#i had to do it FOUR SEPARATE TIMES. ACCURATELY

[pa-pa-plasma]

okay i do think this one is funny actually. i call it "ace mongus"

[1nk20ul]

Discovering Jon and Martin’s Birthdays

It’s a wonder how much you can uncover about The Magnus Archives using only a bit of mathematics and a smidge of psychology.

Apparently I have too much time for both and can definitively say that I have revealed the absolute best and most accurate dates for both of their birthdays. Feel free to join me as we dissect piece by piece when these two were born and put to rest the age old question: What is Jon’s zodiac sign?

I’ll put the results in the tags as a TLDR if you’re not interested in reading my method and simply care about what star sign they are or what date to put in your calendar so you can go out for ice cream.

Statement Begins.

To find out the birthdays of Jon and Martin, we first must determine when exactly they joined the Archives. This will be important for the wider picture, as after all, the earliest possible birthday must take place after they start working there. We also must understand the Archive team’s speed in order to understand how to space out our statements and find that aforementioned number.

Gertrude Robinson passed away, according to her file, on the 15th of May 2015. This makes 15th May our earliest possible starting date. The next time the day’s date was specified was on 13th January 2016, when Naomi Herne gave a live statement. This is MAG 13, and our latest start date. Obviously, these numbers are nowhere close to the day we’re looking for, but they act as upper and lower limits. Our answer is somewhere inside.

In Jon’s supplemental notes for MAG 12, he states that Gerard Keay passed away late the previous year. Since Gertrude died after Gerard in early 2015, he must have died in late 2014. This confirms that MAG 1-12 was recorded to tape in 2015. We know that MAG 13, the next statement, was given live on 13th January 2016. This creates, at the very least, an almost two-week gap between archiving statements. This is likely due to the holiday season, so the time between 24th December and up to 1st January can be omitted. To recap, MAG 1-12 was recorded in 2015, and MAG 13 onwards in 2016.

The key to determining archival speed lies with Martin. Martin goes missing right before MAG 17 and reappears at the end of MAG 21. As he gave such a detailed account of those two weeks, our archiving timeline can be significantly accurate. MAG 19-20 were more than likely recorded on the same day, meaning three separate recording sessions took place in two weeks. However, it took a minimum of six weeks to record MAG 14-16.

So far, the timeline looks like this:

Now we have to figure out the left half.

Calculating the average time it takes to archive statements from MAG 13-22 (removing any outliers from our calculations), we can find a true average and apply it to the 2015 year. By March of The Magnus Institute’s 2016 calendar year, the Archive staff was able to archive 1.31 statements per week. I double-checked this number by doing the same with the statements recorded between MAG 22 and MAG 39. By multiplying the average amount of weeks it should take them by the adjusted number of statements recorded, it should equal the number of weeks it actually did take them. If the numbers are the same, the average is reliable. Hoping for the number 20, the number of weeks I had calculated... was 20.11. This average seems relievingly trustworthy and fits Elias’ complaint about the staff “barely getting through one statement per week.”

All we have to do now is multiply the first 12 statements by the 1.31 average to determine how many weeks it most likely took to do the recorded work of 2015. This leaves us with 15.72 weeks and makes the earliest and most probable start date somewhere around 5th September 2015. I will round this to 1st September as I am not expecting the team to start working on statements right out the gate, so these extra four days act as a buffer for everyone to get their bearings and find the tape recorder. Also, it’s convenient for Elias’ financials to start everyone on the 1st of the month.

Now is the fun part - the birthdays. We now know that Jon and Martin’s birthdays must fall somewhere between early September and the end of February. Since March kicks off the Archives living with the threat of Jane Prentiss, they have to take place before then. After that point, the team is far too stressed to have the carefree party heard in MAG 161. We also know that Martin’s birthday has to come before Jon’s, as the team mentions going out for ice cream at Jon’s party. This event has to be long enough in the past for Jon to forget about it, so their birthdays must be reasonably spaced out from one another in the allotted time. Likewise, an amount of time must have passed after their start date for the team to be close enough bond to want to celebrate Martin’s birthday.

Martin’s birth year is easy to determine. Martin tells us his age in MAG 56. His birthday could not have happened at this point in 2017, so his birth year must be 1987. In a Q&A, it was speculated that Jon and Martin have birthdays near each other (and one being slightly older than the other), so only 1987 and 1988 are our options for Jon’s birth year. Let’s look a bit closer at that.

Early ‘88 is closer to Late ‘87 than Early ‘87. At Jon’s birthday party, he says he’s turning 38. Martin is 29 at this time. The obvious conclusion to me is that Jon simply adds a decade to his age. (I find this the most hilarious yet believable scenario.) Jonny was also born in 1988, being 28 himself when that scene would take place. As Jon’s childhood details sometimes mirror Jonny’s, I am taking this as a sign of accuracy.

And by doing some additional work that I will not share here, I can reliably say that these are the best observed birthdays for Jon and Martin:

Martin - 23rd November, 1987

Jonathan - 2nd Febuary, 1988

Also, this makes Martin a potential Valentine’s Day Baby. Do with that what you will.

Thanks for reading!

(Full timeline for those who are interested:)

[hoejosatoru]

Roster Hopper - Aoba Johsai edition

Pairings: Fem!y/n X Aoba Johsai players (Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, Kunimi, Kyōtani (mad dog)) all separately. Y/n's skin color/hair color is not specified.

Summary: Y/n bets her friend she can sleep with the star players of Aoba Johsai (Univiersity AU) without any of them finding out.

Original Karasuno version here, Nekoma version here

Word Count: 6.2K

Warnings: Sex with multiple guys (separately), stoner!Matsukawa bc I hc him like that, reader smokes, unprotected sex, oral, fingering, mirror sex, semi publicish sex, rough sex, spanking, thumb in ass, squirting, the works lads were are fucking 5 men in one story, Iwaizumi bias sorry not sorry, not proof read MDNI

"I cannot believe the way these girls act," You huffed, settling next to your best friend and co manager. This was the second time today you had to kick out a bunch of girls trying to get a glimpse of Oikawa from practice.

Your friend chuckled. "You get used to it, but it is very bizarre." You and your friend were managers of your university's highly regarded volleyball team. Your friend did it last year, convincing you to do it with her when the other manager graduated. Oikawa's groupies no longer phased her.

"What is he doing to these girls? I mean he's good looking, but he's just another student," you replied.

"Maybe he's hooking up with them? Like the dick is so good it drives the crazy," your friend said, snickering.

"There's no way he's that good," you chuckled. "Honestly, I feel like he's not even the best on the team."

"You've spend thinking about this?" your friend teased.

"Hey these practices are long, what else am I supposed to do?" you responded.

"Fair enough," your friend said. "So who do you think is the best, then?'

"My guess is Iwaizumi," you replied, "But unfortunately I don't have any proof."

"I don't have any proof either, but honestly I think you're right," your friend replied, "But I wouldn't count Oikawa out. He's gotta be doing something right for these girls to act like that."

An idea hit you. "What if I could get proof?"

Your friend's brow arched. "What do you mean?"

"Let's pick like the top 5 guys on the team. I'll sleep with all of them and then I can rank who's the best." It sounded crazy leaving your mouth, but it didn't make you want to do it any less.

Your friend gaped at you. "I think you might have caught whatever crazy the Oikawa fan girls have."

You shrugged. "Maybe, but come on, aren't you curious?"

"I can't lie, I am intrigued," your friend replied, "But it seems unlikely. That's a lot guys to get through and they're bound to talk."

"I bet you $200 I can do it with none of them finding out," you countered, feeling bold.

"You're on," you friend shook your hand. The two of you discussed details. In order to get the most accurate results, you were to let them take the lead. If you started telling them what moves to do, or what you liked you'd get a skewed experience. And it was crucial none of them found out. If they knew they were in competition, they might try extra hard, which, again, would skew the data in this very scientific study. You both agreed that you would have until the end of the semester to get it done. Fair enough, considering it just started.

"Also coach is super strict about girls," your friend said, "He thinks it is a distraction, so if he found out you might lose your spot." It certainly added to the stakes, but you were willing to risk it. You had faith in yourself. You both easily decided to on Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Kumini, and Matsukawa as the top four, but struggled with the last guy.

Your friend got a devilish grin. "I think it should be Kyōtani." Your eyes drifted to the court where Kyōtani, who the team somewhat affectionately named mad dog, was slamming spikes over the net.

"I think you want me dead," you replied, "But I am curious. Sure let's make him number 5." And so you had your targets set.

Matsukawa was your first attempt because, frankly, he seemed the easiest. He flirted with you a few times at past parties so you figured you had a good shot at this one. You weaved through the crowd at the team house until you found him scrolling his phone, alone. Perfect.

"Hey Matsukawa," you beamed.

He perked up when he saw you, eye flicking over your body. You wore your favorite pair of jeans and a little top that hugged your body perfectly. From the twitch of his mouth, you guessed he liked what he saw. "Hey y/n, what's up?"

"I was wondering if you had any weed?" you batted your lashed at him,

His grin widened. "Course, you wanna smoke?"

"Do you mind?"

"Not at all. We just gotta do it upstairs, cause, you know." You nodded, understanding what he meant. Matsukawa was the only guy on the team who smoked, at least openly. Most of the guys gave him shit about it, saying it would fuck up his stamina and mess with his performance in games. So now, he had to hide it. Which worked out rather well for you.

You followed Matsukawa up to his room in the team house, both careful to avoid attention from other teammates. Luckily, it was a rather crowded party and you were able to make it to his room unnoticed.

"I can roll us a blunt?"

"Please," you replied, sitting comfortably on his bed. Matsukawa smiled, pleased at the look of you in his bed, before turning his attention to his rolling papers. He was quick and efficient joining you with a perfectly rolled blunt moment later. "You're good at that."

He grinned, lighting up, "Lot's a practice. You do the honors of taking the first hit." Matsukawa watched as you took the blunt between your plush lips. It was clear by the way he looked at you this would not be hard. You passed the blunt back and forth until it was finished, feeling a little high.

"You look like you want something," you flirt, holding Matsukawa's gaze. You leaned in closer to him, just inches from his face. "And I think I know what it is."

"Hmm, and what's that?" Matsukawa mused.

"This," you whispered before pressing your lips to his. Matsukawa's arms instantly wrapped around you, pulling you into him. You straddled his lap, playing with hair at the base of his neck as you kissed him deeper. You rolled your hips against him once to test the waters, eliciting a hum of pleasure from him. You continued your movements as Matsukawa let his hands explore your body, squeezing your ass and tits.

Matsukawa was fully hard before you even took your shirt off. He buried his face in your tits, sucking on the soft flesh and kneading with his large, warm hands. His tongue flicked over your nipple, making your arousal pool between your legs. He ravished your tits with his hands and mouth, making you ache with desire.

"Can I take these off?" Matsukawa asked, noting how you've become more needy. His fingers were hooked into pants the second you nodded, pulling them off you.

"Not fair that I'm the only one naked," you noted, pulling at the hem of his shirt.

Matsukawa smirked. "Be my guest." You stripped him down, pulling his stiff cock out of his pants. You ran your thumb over his tip, spreading his precum. You positioned yourself over him, before sinking down on to him with a satisfied sigh. He wasn't too big, but enough to make you feel full and satisfied.

You gripped his shoulders for leveraged as you rolled your hips. Matsukawa groaned as you fucked yourself on him, "God, you feel so good." He leaned back on his hands, allowing him to watch your tits bounce as you rode him. He planted his feet on the bed allowing him to fuck up into you.

"Shit just like that," you moaned, feeling him press deeper into you. Your clit hit against him with each thrust, sending jolts of pleasure through you. You dug your nails into his shoulder as you finally teetered over the edge, crying out his name.

"Fuck," Matsukawa moaned as he spilled inside you. His hips stuttered before finally coming to a stop. Matsukawa excused himself to grab you a towel from the bathroom connected to his room.

"Thanks," you said as he tossed it to you. You quickly cleaned yourself up, eager to get back to the party before it was obvious you were both gone. "Hey Matsukawa? Do you mind if we keep this between us? You know how the guys are, especially with, you know." You nodded over to the remnants of weed on his nightstand.

Matsukawa nodded, not looking to get another anti smoking lecture from Iwaizumi. "It's in the vault."

The opportunity to get with Kyōtani came unexpectedly. It was after practice, but you stayed behind to organize the team storage room. The sound of a ball being smacked around. You peaked out to find Kyōtani smacking the ball as hard as could against the wall.

"Everything okay?" you asked gently. His nickname of mad dog was fitting, as you often felt like you were approaching a feral animal when you had to talk to him.

He didn't look at you as he replied, "Coach said I need to get my aggression out." He smacked the ball harder, it ricocheting off the wall and back to him in a flash. "Apparently it's impacting my game."

"Is that why you're abusing the volleyballs?" you half joked, but he didn't crack a smile. You were beginning to wonder if you wouldn't be able to make this work.

"Yeah, don't know what else to do," he grumbled.

Well, you might as well go for it. "I've heard that sex is a good way to get out aggression."

This caught his attention. He caught the ball and turned to look at you for the first time since you came in. He had an unreadable scowl on his face. "Are you making fun of me?"

"No, not at all!" you replied quickly, "I was reading a sports magazine the other day and a professional athlete was talking about it. Said that he always had sex before games because it helped him calm down and think better." You were impressed at how quickly you thought on your feet, though you did feel a touch bad about lying. You were pretty sure sex relieves frustration so it wasn't that much of a lie.

"Well our game is tomorrow so I don't think I'll find someone in time to help with that," he replied flatly.

"I'll help you," you replied, "I mean, if you'd want that."

Kyotani's brows furrowed. "Are you fucking with me?"

"No, I promise," you replied earnestly. "I know tomorrow is an important game. I can't do anything to help during the game as a manager, but I could do this. Just think of all the spikes you'll get if coach puts you in more." You played at his desire to be in the games more and you could see the gears turning in his head.

"Okay, yeah" Kyōtani replied, "Let's do it. Come here." You obliged, surprised he agreed and buzzing with anticipation over what he would do. When you were within arms reach, Kyotani spun you around, so you were facing the wall. He pinned you in with his hands on either side of you. "This doesn't have to be romantic, it's just business, yeah?"

"Right, no feelings," you agreed. You both were using each other for a bigger goal, so this didn't bother you at all.

Kyotani brushed the hair away from your shoulder, his head dipping into your neck. He licked up the length of your neck before biting into your sensitive skin. It didn't hurt, but the surprise of it made you gasp. "I like it rough," Kyotani began, his hands wrapping your front to squeeze your breasts. "If it's too much, tell me to stop."

You nodded and he continued. He kissed at your neck as his hands traveled down your body and into your pants. He pumped a finger in and out of you, then added another to prep you for him. It wasn't romantic at all, as he stated, but there was something hot about it. Perhaps it was the way you were using each other, or the roughness in his touch, or the fact that you were doing this in the gym where you could walk in on you. It was sinful, wrong. But that turned you on even more.

"Bend over and put your hands on the wall," Kyotani instructed, though he was already manhandling your body into the position. You felt the cold air hit your wetness as he yanked down your pants, making you shiver. You arched your back in anticipation as you heard his pants slide down.

"Oh!" you gasped as he pressed himself into you. He was thick, your body needing to stretch around him. He let out a hiss as he bottomed out, both of you adjusting to the feel of the other. Kyotani wasted no time on adjusting, though, he gripped your hips and began to thrust into you. He snapped his hips hard and fast as your gripped the wall for leverage.

His hand came down on your ass with a hard smack. You moaned at the stinging sensation. "You like that?" he asked, smacking your ass again. "Fuck, yeah you do." Kyotani's pace never let up, making you breathless and sensitive. When he wasn't slapping your ass, he was gripping your hips with bruising force, allowing him to fuck you with all his might.

"Shit I'm gonna-" your words died as you came around him, your body shaking. Your knees buckled, but he held you firmly. He fucked you practically like a rag doll until he came, finishing inside you with a deep grunt. You were not surprised by his roughness, rather your enjoyment of it.

"I think I feel calmer, thanks," Kyotani said as you both redressed. It was almost comical, his treatment of this exchange. Like it was a totally normal thing to happen.

"Oh good, but do you mind if we don't tell anyone?" you asked, "Coach is weird about stuff with girls, you know? I would hate for him not to play you for something like this."

Kyotani's eyes darkened at the thought of being put on the sidelines. "I won't say a word."

2 down, 3 to go.

It was midterms week and everyone was stressed. Big tests and lots of games going on was never a good mix. Part of your job as manager was to check in with players and makes sure they were doing okay. When you found Kunimi and Kindaichi having a heated conversation, you had incorrectly assumed it was about academics.

"Everything okay boys?" you asked the first years. The color drained from Kunimi's face, while Kindaichi had a wicked grin.

"Kunimi is afraid he won't be able to impress the girl he likes because he's a virgin," Kindaichi announced.

"Dude shut up!" Kunimi huffed, his face reddening.

Kindaichi had no idea what gift he just gave you. "Aw, don't be embarrassed Kunimi," you replied sweetly, "There's nothing wrong with that. It wouldn't bother me if I was her." Kunimi relaxed and Kindaichi frowned, not having gotten the reaction he wanted. Before anyone could say more, the whistle blew signaling the start of practice.

When practice ended, you approached Kunimi when he was alone. "So tell me about this girl you like," you said.

Kunimi blushed, embarrassed that the pretty second year manager knew about his girl problems. And that he was virgin. "There’s not much to tell. Just a girl in my class who I think is cute. I've only talked to her a few times, but never asked her out. I'm just nervous that I, you know, would embarrassed myself because..." His voice trailed off because he could not bring himself to say it in front of you.

"Listen, you don't have to worry about all that. You're super cute and she'd be lucky to hang out with you," you began, "But if you're really concerned I'd help you."

Kunimi was so surprised you called him cute he couldn't process the second half of your statement. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, if you want, you don't have to be a virgin," you replied, "I'll show you what girls like. that way you'll feel less pressure with this girl after getting your first time out of the way."

Kunimi blinked. He could not believe you of all people were offering to take his virginity. "Are you serious? You're not playing a prank on me with Kindaichi, are you?"

"I swear I'm sincere," you replied, "All that I asked is you don't tell anyone. If the other guys found out, they might be weird about it."

"Of course," Kunimi nodded. He would not risk ruining this for himself. "But could I tell Kindaichi you called me cute. He kinda has a crush on you and I want to rub in his face since he put me on blast like that in front of you."

You chuckled. "Sure, just nothing about us sleeping together, okay?"

"I promise." You made a plan to meet in his dorm next weekend, as his roommate was gonna be away. You figured if he hadn't spilled the secret by then, you could trust him to keep it locked up.

When Saturday rolled around and no one knew of your little plan, you found yourself in Kunimi's dorm. "We totally don't have to do this if you don't want to," Kunimi said, shifting nervously on the bed. You thought his angst was sweet.

"Don't worry Kunimi, I want to," you replied. You placed your hand on his cheek gently. "You're sure you want to?" Kunimi nodded eagerly, making you smile. "Okay, let's start easy then. Kiss me." Kunimi leaned into and pressed his lips to yours. You slid that hand on his cheek to the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

Kunimi was a good kisser. His lips moved rhythmically, tongue dipping in and out of your mouth with ease. Both your hands explored each other's bodies, getting used to the feel of the other. You almost got lost in the moment, but then remembered you were here for a purpose.

"What's the furthest you've gone with a girl?" you asked after pulling away. Kunimi's pupils were blown out and it took him a minute to respond, like he almost forgot why he was here too.

"Oh, um fingering," he blushed. His eyes kept flicking down the length of your body.

"Did she cum?"

"Yes," he replied confidently.

You smiled, "Good boy." Kunimi blushed deeper and if you didn't have a lesson to teach you'd want to explore that more. "Is there anything in particular you wanna learn?"

"Yeah, uh, going down on a girl," Kunimi replied, "If you're okay with that."

"I'm very okay with that," you grinned. "Let's work up to it, yeah? Just like you've been doing. Girls like when you kiss them and take your time. Gets us turned on." Kunimi nodded dutifully, returning to your lips. You kissed each other more purposefully now. You stripped each other of your shirts and Kunimi gently squeezed at your tits.

He kissed them both, before progressing lower down your body with a line of kisses. He reached your pants and looked up at you for permission, which you gave. "That was a good move, kissing all the way down. You sure you haven't done this before?"

"Honestly? I saw it in a porno," Kunimi replied, making you chuckle. Kunimi stripped off your pants. You spread your legs wider, allowing him to settle between them. He flushed at the sight of your wetness.

"You know how you were kissing me with tongue before? Start like that and we'll go from there," you told him. Kunimi did as you said and you let out a soft sigh when his lips connected to your pussy. He moved tentatively, trying to find the right rhythm. The more he tasted you, the harder he worked, driven to please you.

"Move your tongue higher. A little bit more oh-" your sentence cut off when his tongue found your clit. Kunimi responded to your moan, focusing his energy to that spot. His tongue flicked and swirled over the sensitive bud, making your hips stir. You threaded your fingers through his hair, holding him where he was, though he wasn't planning to move an inch. "Fuck Kunimi!" you cried out, as your orgasm flooded your body. You didn't even have to pretend to boost his confidence; it was that good.

"Okay, I seriously don't believe you've never done that before," you said when you finally caught your breath.

Kunimi beamed, "I swear it was."

"You ready for the next step?"

Kunimi nodded, his cock heavy in his boxers after experiencing you cumming on his tongue. You undressed him, admiring the length of him and the bead of pre cum that sat at the tip. You wrapped your hand around the base of him, guiding him to your entrance. You slid his tip through your wetness, making him nice and slick.

"Whenever you're ready," you said, eyes flicking up to his.

"Promise you won't laugh if I cum quick?" he asked.

"Promise," you smiled reassuringly.

Kunimi slid himself in slowly, gasping at the feeling of your pussy around him. Of course he'd imagined this moment before, but he couldn't believe how tight and wet and warm it really felt. "Fuck," he groaned, stilling himself for a moment. He knew you wouldn't laugh at him but he really did not want to cum the second he put it in.

"It's okay take your time," you said, "plus it's good to take your time. Girls need a little time to adjust, especially because you're big." Calling his dick big gave him the confidence to keep going. He moved slowly, allowing himself to get used to the feeling of you.

You felt so good, though, it was hard for him to control himself. His thrusts became quicker, desperate. He knew he should slow down, but the feel of you wrapped around him was too good to stop. "So good Kuni, just like that," you encouraged. The fast snap of his hips was working up your already sensitive cunt all over again.

"Y/n, I- shit," Kunimi moaned, unable to stop the orgasm that built in his body. His body stuttered as he released himself inside. The sensation sent you over the edge, making you cream around him. Kunimi let out a strangled breath at the feeling of you squeezing around his sensitive cock.

"Kunimi," you said when he collapsed next to you, panting, "I don't think you have to worry about pleasing girls at all." Kunimi smiled proudly, feeling accomplished that he finally lost his virginity.. Little did he know you were beaming from your own accomplishment. You were over halfway there.

After midterms, the mood on the team lightened. Everyone was excited for the big away game you were at, as you got to spend the night at a hotel. It was a much needed break after all the tests. You were doing rounds, making sure the guys were in their rooms and not making a mess of the place.

"Come in," you heard Oikawa's voice from the other side of the door. You entered his hotel room, finding him alone. "What's up, y/n?"

"Just making sure no ones burning down the hotel," you replied, "Who are you supposed to be staying with?"

Oikawa grinned, stretching out on the large bed in an exaggerated fashion. "Got the whole place to myself. Coach accidentally booked an extra room. I bet Iwaizumi that I could get more service aces and this was my prize for being right."

"Very nice," you replied. The gears started turning in your head; this was an opportunity you could not pass up. "Your fan girls were really something today."

Oikawa shrugged, "Can you blame them? I was playing well."

"I think they are more interested in what you could do off the court," you replied.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Oikawa said with a grin that told you he knew exactly what you were talking about.

You yawned in faux boredom. "I guess I just don't get it."

Oikawa scowled. "What do you mean?"

"No offense, but I just don't picture you at being good at... that," you replied. It was risky calculation to infer you didn't think he was good in bed, it could definitely just piss him off. But if you knew Oikawa, you knew that there was nothing he loved more than proving someone wrong.

"You must have a shitty imagination then," Oikawa replied. After a pause he added, "Let me prove you wrong." You had to stifle your laugh. Looks like you played your cards right.

"Someone's eager," you teased.

Oikawa rolled his eyes. "You're the one who came in here and started talking about sex. I bet this was your goal all along."

You feigned nonchalance, "I was just having a chat with you. But I can't lie, now I'm intrigued."

"Yeah, I bet," Oikawa replied, "Get over here." You followed, joining him on the bed. "For the record, I am going to make you say I was right and you were wrong when I'm done with you." His lips were on yours before you could reply. You both tried to take control, but you eventually submitted to him. You were okay with playing into his ego for the greater good.

Oikawa's hands slid up and down your clothed body. You could tell even then he was good with his touch. He ghosted over your core a few times, never truly touching you. It effectively worked you up. "Wait, I've got an idea," Oikawa said with a devilish grin, "I want you in front of the mirror." He nodded to the large floor length mirror in the corner of the room. Your pussy throbbed at the possibilities.

Oikawa sat you in front of him, your back flush to his chest. He pulled your pants down your legs, smirking at the wet spot on your underwear. "That wet already? You're making this too easy for me, y/n," Oikawa's voice was low in your ear, making you stir. He slid your underwear off slowly, no doubt trying to make you more antsy. His fingers trailed back up the length of your leg, calloused and warm.

A low sigh left your lips when he finally touched your center, dragging his finger through your slick. He teased your clit, getting you more worked up before he really touched you. He slid a finger into you, pressing at that sweet spot inside you in slow, lazy strokes.

"Can feel you sucking me in," Oikawa murmured, "You wanted this bad, huh?" You moaned in response as a second finger slid into you. You could not deny, he was good with his hands. His touch was skillful, easily finding what made your body react. He picked up the pace, fucking you with his fingers as his thumb rubbed at your neglected clit. The sound of his fingers plunging into you was pornographic.

"Look at the mess your making," Oikawa said, nudging you to look in the mirror. His fingers were coated in a wet sheen and you were dripping down onto his thighs, soaking the fabric of his sweats. "Bet you wanna cum, huh? I can tell, can feel you squeezing my fingers."

"Please," was all you could gasp. Your eyes fell down to where Oikawa's fingers disappeared inside you. The pump of muscles in his forearms as his fingers fucked you, the feel of his ever growing hard on rubbing against your ass, it was all too much.

"Hmm, I'll let you cause you said please," Oikawa replied, pressing his thumb faster against your aching clit. You cried out his name as he gripped your thigh with his free had, keeping your legs spread for him. You both watched as you came, your cunt fluttering around his long fingers. Your body went slack against him, but he wasn't finished with you yet.

"I'm feeling generous today," Oikawa smirked as he pulled his cock out of his sweats. His dick was as pretty as he was, long and flushed a soft shade of pink.

"How unlike you." You still had it in you to banter with him. Oikawa chuckled, lifting your hips so he could slide his length into you.

"Prepped you well," Oikawa mused, "can feel you sucking me in." He bottomed out with a low groan. He thrust up into you in long, slow strokes. Your nails dug into his thighs as you savored the roll of his hips.

"Can feel you throbbing in me," you retorted, breathless. "Guess you wanted this too, huh?" You mimicked his words back to him. Oikawa shut you up with a particularly deep thrust, making you gasp.

"What's that? I couldn't hear you." His hips were snapping faster now, chasing his own high. You were right, he did want this. And the second he felt you cum on his fingers he knew he wouldn't be able to rest until he felt you do it on his cock. It didn't take long at this new pace for him to get his wish.

"Shit Oikawa," you moaned, your head falling back on his shoulder. Your body totally melted into his as pleasure consumed you for the second time. Oikawa cursed as you squeezed him, spilling inside you. You watched his face contort in pleasure in the mirror and, damn, he really was pretty. Maybe you did understand those girls after all.

"Looks like I was right," Oikawa panted, with a smug grin.

"Looks you like you were," you replied, keeping your smugness internal. Just one more left. "Just promise me you won't tell anyone. You know how coach is with girl stuff. If he found out, I'd probably be fired."

As much as Oikawa wanted to brag about this, he liked you and didn't want you to lose the position because of him. "It will be our little secret."

You were nervous about approaching Iwaizumi, but with the end of the semester approaching you had to face your fear.

"Hey Iwaizumi, would you by any chance be able to help me in the gym sometime? I've been wanting to get into going, but not sure how to use the machines," you asked him one day after practice. Iwaizumi was an exercise science major and often helped the team with work outs.

"I'd love to, it's actually perfect that you asked." Iwaizumi explained one of his class's final was to create a an exercise plan for someone. "Do you mind if I use this for the project?"

"Not at all! I'm glad to be helping you out, too." You agreed to meet at the gym later that week. There was a small gym at your campus that was for athletes or fitness related majors use only. The night you met, Iwaizumi reserved the gym for the two of you to use.

"I figured you'd be more comfortable if it was just us," he explained.

"I appreciate that. Hopefully it wasn't too much trouble for you," you replied.

Iwaizumi shook his head. "Not at all, we do it all the time for our assignments."

Iwaizumi took you through the machines, showing you how to do different workouts. You wore your favorite workout set, the little bike shorts and sports bra fitting your body perfectly. You could feel Iwaizumi's eyes on you, soaking in your body's movements. His hands were warm and firm on your body as he put you into proper form and you swore they lingers on you. Maybe he was just being thorough, but the stirring in your stomach told you it was more than that.

"You did great," Iwaizumi complimented. "Now I gotta stretch you out." Iwaizumi turned red. "Shit, that sounded bad."

You laughed, "I knew what you meant. I love a good stretch." You smiled with the littlest hint of suggestiveness. Iwaizumi took you into the trainer's room, which was a smaller space that had a little lifted bed in the corner. It looked a bit like like a doctor's office.

"Just hop up there and lay down," Iwaizumi instructed. He took one of your legs in his, pressing it up your body like you were in split. You relished the feeling of his body pressing against you.

"Feels good," you said, your voice infused with satisfaction. It was innocent enough statement, but it made Iwaizumi's pants start to feel tighter.

"You are very flexible," he commented, switching over to the other leg. He was so close to you it was driving you crazy. His body was warm and solid, the result of his own workout regimen. His scent filled your nose, woody and spicy. It was driving you crazy.

The tension was palpable as he set your leg back down. You sat up, your eyes locked on his. His body acted on its' own accord, stepping between your legs and pulling you into him. The kiss was frenzied and deep, both of you the secret desire you harbored for the other.

"Do you wanna..." his voice trailed off, breathless.

"Please," you replied.

"Get on your hands and knees for me," he instructed, his voice sweet. He helped move you into place, positioning himself behind you. Iwaizumi slid your shorts and underwear down, cursing under his breath at your wet cunt displayed for him. He gripped the plush of your thighs, burying his face in you. His mouth moved over you just as desperately as his kissed you, leaving you breathless.

He alternative between sucking and licking at your clit. Each time your body jolted with pleasure, Iwaizumi gripped you tighter, keeping you still for him. He pulled away only once, spreading your ass and spitting between them. He return to sucking at your clit as his thumb circled the tight hole. Finally, he sunk his thumb in your ass, pulling a loud gasp from your lips.

"Fuck Iwa!" you cried at. He was driven by your sweet sighs, using his tongue to fuck your dripping cunt as his thumb pressed into your ass. The sensation cause the pleasure in your lower tummy to snap, crying out his name as your orgasm surged through your body.

"Fuck I need you so bad," Iwaizumi said, "Can't wait to feel you do that on my cock." He repositioned your hips, running his palm down the length of your spine to put you into a nice arch. He pulled his heavy, leaking cock out of his pants, rubbing his tip through your slick folds. You couldn't see the size of him, but by the stretch as he pressed into you, you knew he was big.

Iwaizumi dragged his cock in and out of your cunt, low grunts escaping his lips. You were sucking it in, making it hard for him to keep as slow pace. He gripped your hips for leveraged, throwing more weight into each thrust. It was deep and hard in the best way.

"Don't stop," you urged, feeling your release building again. Iwaizumi was fueled by your words, desperate to feel your pussy fluttering around him. Iwaizumi brought one hand around your body, rubbing fast circles over your already sensitive clit.

The feeling building in your tummy swelled in intensity. The different, strange. You realized a second too late what was about to happen.

"I'm gonna oh-" you broke off into a euphoric gasp as you squirted on Iwaizumi's thighs. Your whole body shook, completely overtaken by pleasure. The combination of you squirting and your cunt spasming around his cock was too much. Iwaizumi let out a low, strangled curse as he shot hot ropes of cum inside you. When his hips finally stilled you, you were both trying to catch your breath.

"I promise I won't right about that last part in my paper," Iwaizumi broke the silence.

You laughed. "I appreciate that. Could I also ask you not to tell anyone on the team about this? I don't want them being stupid about it."

Iwaizumi dreaded the thought of his immature teammates finding out. "Absolutely, it will stay between you and I. And, y/n, I know we did this backwards, but I'd love to take you out."

You grinned, "I'd love that too."

***

"Okay enough counting your money, I need to hear the ranking," your friend said.

"Just making sure I got what I earned," you smirked, "but let's get into it."

You put mad dog in last place, which would probably piss him off. Good thing he'll never know. "It wasn't bad by any means. But I definitely enjoyed the others more."

"I just can't believe you had sex on the courts. I'll never be able too look at them the same again." You laughed, then continued.

Matsukawa was next. "He's very much a boob guy. Honestly, really good with them. If he did more foreplay he could have been higher."

"Very fair."

Kunimi was the middle ground. "He was the dark horse for me. I was surprised how good he was, especially with it being his first time."

"Dude is going places," your friend commented. You had to agree.

It was a tough call between Oikawa and Iwaizumi, but you had to put Iwaizumi on top since he made your squirt. "He was so fucking good. And I'm probably biased because I have a crush on him, but I don't care. The evidence speaks for itself."

"Both sound like a great time."

"Absolutely," you nodded, "I understand Oikawa's fan girls more now." You both giggled, then got to planning your outfit for your date with Iwaizumi.

[m1d-45]

renewed

summary: many things have changed in aether's life since he met you...

word count: 2.7k

-> warnings: n/a

-> gn reader (you/yours) + aether as traveller!

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk

< masterlist >

aether isn’t quite human. at least not entirely, not anymore.

it could be argued that even prior to coming to teyvat, he and his sister weren’t entirely human. they were nearly always stronger than the native life wherever they traveled, never lingering long enough for an accurate portrait to be drawn. between their glittering wings and the razor sharp swords at their hips, it could be easily argued that from the perspective of the people they visited they could be called angels.

a few wrote legends about them. the gilded warriors with shimmering swords that blinded as they slashed, so in step with each other that it was as if they were one being. the saviors, the adventurers, the peaceful giants, twin faces atop four wings apiece. lumine always managed to sneak away a copy of these legends, and they privately laughed over the artwork at their camp that night.

“we don’t look that intimidating, do we?”

“i’m fairly certain-… hang on, is that a tail?”

“that’s supposed to my hair, i think.”

“no no, look. it connects lower, here.”

“…by the stars-”

they didn’t see themselves that way, though. they were simply twins, defined by the other in every sense. never apart for long, always stood side by side, trading swords before a dangerous fight as a promise to return them.

‘draw me with courage.’

‘wield me with valor.’

lumine and aether and aether and lumine. they never fussed about the order, so long as they were together. call them whatever you’d like, insults or praise or a simple, tired request to leave, as long as it was both of them. they were all they had left. the other half of their life. to try and pry apart the seam would only result in bleeding hearts, limbs tangling together to at least die by the other’s side. even ‘twin’ was too simple a word to fit the entirety of their lives into. ‘twin’ implied a degree of separation, an impossible gap between them where wind would blow and the world would dig into, pushing them away like waves in a boat’s wake. ‘twin’ was too shallow a word, to bitter, too small to encompass everything they felt.

such fervent devotion could never be considered ‘human,’ for no human would ever live long enough to know the fear that came with knowing everything that swelled would eventually fall. no human would clutch so desperately to the twin pillars in their life—would ever consider basing their world upon two things. they’d call it foolish, even, for what would you do if one collapsed?

aether never liked that question. he didn’t like it when he and lumine first heard it, he didn’t like it when he and lumine heard it a second time, he didn’t like it anytime he and lumine heard it after that. he didn’t like it now, her sword slipping from his hands as he reached, his fingers barely brushing hers.

the unknown god laughed, and he barely had time to feel rage before the world closed in on him and his memory faded away.

aether and lumine. lumine and aether. she was always insistent upon his safety, but just this once he wished she wasn’t. living in whatever stasis she was in within that cube would certainly hurt less than this, bile rising in his throat at his failure.

somewhere in his mind, he knew that it logically wasn’t his fault. he remembered the layer of warmth that had surrounded him mid-battle, saw the reflection of understanding in lumine’s eyes. it wasn’t technically his fault, he didn’t ask to be saved, ignoring that it was his own actions that led to his god’s blessing. perhaps if he wasn’t so strict about the time of his prayer he wouldn’t have to be alone on this beach, though there was no way to find out. the sand stretched on either side, and though it wasn’t infinite, he had not left the immediate area around where he’d first woken up. to move was to move on, to leave, to accept that his world had shattered into a thousand little fragments and to give up on picking them off the floor. he couldn’t leave. to leave was to surrender to this new fate. to leave was to forget about his sister, to forget about his self, to forget about the half of his life he never imagined he could lose.

family and faith. to lose his gods favor was a threat he could live with, as there would only be himself to blame. but his sister?

if he hadn’t fished up paimon, he’s not certain he would have eaten the fish that came up instead.

she was bright, bubbly, at least after coughing up an impossible amount of seawater. she thanked him profusely while wringing out her hair, insisting on helping him in return because “it’s only fair!” as if he wasn’t three times her weight (save her magic) and and ten times as strong.

and he let her. he’s not sure why, but he did. he watched her fumble to catch crabs, ending up covered in sand, and managed a weak smile. it was for her, he told himself, spearing three with a sword that wasn’t his, helping her arrange driftwood into a measly campfire. he hardly felt hungry despite being on the beach for what had to be a few months in local time, but she was so insistent that he have some.. it was for her benefit. he just had to get her somewhere safe, then… then…

“so, where are you from?”

aether looked up from his barely-touched meal, meeting her eyes. they were so wide and earnest, too trusting for someone that just met him.

not that he had any ill intentions. no, lumine would always joke that the day he was willingly rude to another would be the day the sky turned red—something that had been the case on one of the planets they’d visited, much to her delight.

aether turned back to the fire, pushing aside the memory. “another planet.” his voice was hoarse and his throat scratched with salt from attempting to drink the seawater earlier, which was not as potable as he’d hoped. “i flew here with my sister.”

“you have a sister?” paimon looked around, though they both knew she wouldn’t find anything. “where is she?”

aether swallowed salt and bile, taking another bite of his crab just to stall. “how about we talk in the morning?”

she let the topic drop.

he didn’t sleep that night, lending her his scarf as a pillow and keeping watch. she didn’t wake when the moon erased the shadows in the sand, or when the sun first crested the sea, or when the sky fully lightened to a pale blue, birdsong filling the air. one of the remnants from the fire found its way into his hand, reaching out to gently shake her awake. her eyes were heavy and she covered her mouth as she yawned, aether looking away before his own could water.

he drew nothing in the sand as she asked her questions—who are you, where’d you come from, who are you missing, what happened to her, why didn’t you do anything?—sketching out mountains and seas he wiped away as soon as they took form. he spoke for much longer than he meant to, his words pulled out as if they were tied to some invisible string.

when was the last time he was alone for this long?

paimon listened intently, brows drawn and frowning deeply, watching as he carved twin—twin, separated by time and space—stars into the sand. “so… what you’re trying to say is that you fell here… from another world? but when you wanted to leave, to go on to the next world, your path was blocked by some unknown god?”

wow, he wanted to snark, i didn’t know there was an echo out here! but the chance never came. magic gripped him by the throat and his eyes went wide in panic, his mouth shaping words he didn’t choose to say by force. he didn’t want to say what someone else told him to. he didn’t know what was going on. he was being pulled at some ghost’s whims, walking stiffly across the sand. it did not skid from beneath his feet, nor pull his balance one way or another. it was solid as stone, leading him up the beach without warning, without knowledge of why or when it would stop.

when was the last time he was this helpless?

(lumine.)

he stumbled across the shore on uncoordinated limbs, fighting fruitlessly. ahead, slime bubbled up from where the sand met the sea, but the ghost did not stop. mist coagulated into a pale blue blob with hazy spots for eyes, and only then was he allowed to stop. paimon yelped and ducked behind him, a familiar weight sinking into his hand. the slime had barely the chance to turn and see him, jerking up as if surprised, when his arm slashed forward.

a sword. not his sword, not lumine’s sword, but a sword, pulled from nowhere, the dull blade hacking at the blob of its own will until the sludge dispersed and sunk back into the sand. a soft mist lingered above the sand, but he was pulled forward without care or remorse. he didn’t even know if it would have hurt him.

weight hit him between the shoulders, cold spreading over his skin and absorbing into his skin. energy buzzed beside his ear, his earring humming with neither outlet nor conduit. were he anyone else, he would have been afraid, but he recognized the buzz. all at once, he understood. all at once, the weak puppetry was vindicated, his muscles relaxing and letting it happen. your energy sank into him, and he let himself stop worrying.

if you were here, he’d be okay. if you were here, you could fix this.

if you were here, he could find his sister, and everything would be okay again.

aether was not human. not entirely, not anymore, and he knew the people of mondstat could tell. you had stayed to guide his body for a week, alternating between helping the knights with dvalin and exploring the plains of mondstat. he was weak and your grip was frail, his attacks uncoordinated and clumsy, but you were there. you understood. the cavalry captain gave him a long stare as they exited his domain, a mix of curiosity and disbelief swirling in his one eye.

when you finally left, you did so in the middle of mondstat square. a physical weight lifted from his shoulders, the anemo he’d absorbed turning from calm and controlled to pushing at the edges of his form, trying to make him give. the anemo archon approached, soothing the wind with a wave of his hand, pulling him along for a drink and a chat. his knees did not want to bend without your command, his mind fraying a bit from continued exposure.

“how interesting, that you’re still standing after a week without rest,” the bartender remarked, the glass in his hands obviously an excuse to keep them above the bar. “what’s your name, outlander?”

he did not think of his own name. no, when he went to answer, he thought of the name you had given him, the one you whispered as you sheltered him from the unknown god’s wrath. it was not his, but it was yours, and wasn’t that what he was asking for?

it took too long for him to answer. red eyes narrowed but eventually chalked it up to exhaustion, giving him directions he couldn’t hear. the captain led him to a room in the back, but he didn’t sleep that night, sitting at the window and searching for the thin sliver of stars.

he didn’t need to eat anymore. he could, certainly, and it tasted fine enough, but he didn’t exactly need to. he’d thought it odd, at first, that barbatos was healed strictly by the wind, but he understood now. he spent his free time sitting under vanessa’s tree, half-asleep as he waited for your return.

you were his source of energy, of will. you knew answers to problems he’d have given up on, and if you didn’t then you tried and tried and tried again until you got it right. you were the power that purified dvalin’s tears, you swept the wind to fix the holy lyre, you cleared the seals around decarabian’s tower. he was a medium, and he was happy with that. your presence waxed and waned, the lapses without you seeming to pass by in a blink.

a few of the knights worried for him, but he knew your vessels understood. none held as much of your power as him, none were as reliant on you, but they understood. they excused his oddities with a kind smile, paimon always at his side to make sure he didn’t waste away the day simply sitting in one spot. prior to coming to teyvat, the concept of elemental sight was something he was only vaguely familiar with. a few planets had some talented witches that could feel the flow of energy through the ground and grass, who could watch the mist in the air and predict the weather. he’d never experienced it himself before. now, the world lit up as his eyes took on a teal sheen, your power mixing with the anemo within him to grant him insight. the world was so vibrant, even the most mundane sights capturing his attention. how could he not stare? if he had it his way he’d always view your creations like this.. but whenever paimon snapped him out of it he’d come out of it with a headache, not to mention his staring tended to be off-putting to those around.

a lot of his new behaviors were. when within your control, he moved stiffly, with repetitive motions forecast well in advance. you chose what he said, when and how he moved, you controlled the very flow of elements through his body. it was harder and harder to think for himself without you there and though paimon handled most of the conversation, there was only so much she could say.

“who are you looking for?” lumine. his sister. himself. the knowledge was there but his throat was closed, unwilling to move without your order.

“thank you for your help.” you’re welcome. don’t worry about it. it was nothing. all he could manage was a stiff nod, eyes flicking to the sky, counting the days until your return. he’d gotten a good grasp of your routine by now.

“who are you?” yours. a traveller. lumine’s. he could not blame those they ran across for their suspicion, even though he wanted to. could they not feel the remains of your presence lingering around him?

they had to go to the rite of decension soon. liyue was holding off, though, waiting for your arrival. they’d never dare to make you miss it, so aether felt no hurry to leave. he laid in the middle of windrise, staring up at the stars. he used to sit atop the knights’ headquarters, but it took too long for the lights of the city to turn out and he liked picking out the various constellations.

his was up there, somewhere. he didn’t have a vision like your other vessels, but he could feel it. it was written right beside your decision to save him and not lumine, alongside your actions in mondstat and everything you’d do in liyue. fate, you’d called it, well-acquainted and intertwined.

aether fell asleep on wet grass among cold wind. he did not get sick, nor was he attacked or otherwise hurt. why would he have been, anyway? your blood was in his veins; he had nothing at all to fear.

[freak-accident419]

You Were Everything

Derek Danforth x AFAB!GN!Reader

Summary: It’s been a few years since the divorce. When you accidentally got pregnant by Derek, he left immediately out of fear, leaving you pregnant all alone. Compromises and communication had become established and all he could do now was call your daughter. But one day, just like some others, he asks to see her in person again.

Word Count: 2.3k

Content: angst, mentions of accidental pregnancy, reader is divorced from Derek, ‘P/n’ = parent name (what your child would call you, whether it be mommy/daddy/etc)

(A/n: I’ve gotta stop being inspired by Richie Jerimovich… reader is afab yet implied/intended to be genderqueer—either nonbinary, genderfluid, transman, transmasc, etc. but it can also apply to cis fem readers. Anyone with a uterus. I know this arrangement isn’t accurate—the custody thing—but it makes things more dramatic, you know?)

-

“Y/n, please.” You heard your ex-husband plead over the phone.

“Derek, we’ve already talked about this countless times. I’m not going to change my mind,” you sigh wearily.

Things with Derek were… complicated, to say the very least. You had once been married to him a few years ago, and everything was going so well. That is, until he got you pregnant.

It was a complete accident. You two always thought you were being safe. You both never planned on pregnancy, let alone even talked about the possibility of having a child. And with your conditions, you weren’t even sure you would be willing to raise it, to carry it all those nine months. But you went through with it anyway.

When Derek found out, he was utterly terrified. He never thought of himself being a father, he never thought he’d ever be the father of your kid, and he especially never thought you would even have a kid of your own. And so, out of sole fear and impulse, he just left one night. Gave you space, you supposed. But things ultimately just ended up in a bitter divorce. Derek was barely there for you.

Which was why you were so insistent on not letting him see your daughter. Jessica or Jess, she was named after Derek’s mother. She was four-years-old now, only communicating with her father on the phone, consoled by the lie you told her that he lived across the globe. During your pregnancy, he still paid for the medical bills, child support, formula, et cetera, yet he was separated from you. Therefore, you simply denied him visitation for your daughter, court-ordered, because you believed he didn’t deserve to see her. He left you alone for all those months, knowing how drastic of a concept pregnancy was to you. You never planned to let him see her.

“Y/n, please. Just for a day. Or even—even just an hour! Let me see my little girl. Please,” he begged with hopeless desperation. It was insulting to you, the fact that he finally wanted to be part of you and your daughter’s life.

“I’m not changing my mind,” you assert forcefully. “You left us. You left her and you left me.” You two always had this same conversation with the same statements and reasons. He had always brought up the possibility of seeing his daughter. This same conversation happened nearly almost every month.

“C’mon. She—she deserves to have a dad present in her life. I can’t just—just call her up all the time while she just believes I’m across the sea and unable to see her!” He urged imperatively to his ex-spouse.

“You’re right. She does deserve to have a dad. A present dad, a good dad,” you utter pressingly. “But that’s just not you.”

Derek pinched his nose bridge in frustration and sighed. He felt terrible. He felt so regretful and so horrible and undeserving of seeing his daughter in person. But he was also selfish—he needed to see her. Derek believed that he learned from his mistakes. Ultimately, he didn’t want to be a father in the beginning because he knew he was unfit. That is, until recently, when he shut down UDG and Nine Star.

“I know I messed up. I know—I know things ended horribly and—and you will never forgive me, but… but I just wanna see Jessica. Not even for an hour? Even five minutes? Five minutes, Y/n, come on, five minutes. Let me have this,” he implored. A part of you felt bad. After all, deep down you still loved him. But you kept remembering every grueling and difficult second while you were pregnant and alone.

“Derek, we’ve already had this conversation. You can continue to call her just like it has been for the past four years. But that’s it. You—” you paused in your tracks as you looked at the kitchen table, the plastic cup of milk tipped over, the drink spreading across the surface. You rushed to get napkins and you soothe your daughter. “Hey, sweetheart. It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s just spilt milk. Easy to clean. You’re okay.” You wiped the milk with the napkins after setting the cup back up. She was a sensitive child, so she was definitely upset about the spilled drink, yet you were able to distract her from the accident. “There. See? All clean. Did you eat your vegetables? Oh my, you did! All of them? Good girl!”

Your sweet, higher pitched voice transmitted to the other side of the phone, Derek hearing you speak to your daughter. His heart nearly stopped as he began to hear the muffled babbles of the toddler in the background of the call. His voice softened immediately, and he couldn’t think about anything but the presence of his daughter.

“She… She’s been eating her vegetables?” He asks softly in awe.

You bring the phone back to your ear. “Yeah,” you answer simply, looking down at her as she continued to eat her lunch.

Derek felt a rush of pride. Even though it was something as small as finishing vegetables, he was extremely proud of her. He always was.

“Is she—is she there?” He inquired breathlessly.

“Uh, yeah,” you reply.

“Can I talk to her?”

“Derek—”

“Please.”

You sigh, pausing. You only let him speak to her for a certain amount of hours and at a specific time of the day, but… you figured there was no harm in letting him speak to her right now. “Fine,” you yield.

After handing the phone to your daughter and telling her who it was, you caught the sudden change of her expression—she nearly beamed.

“Hi, daddy!”

Derek felt his heart explode and his whole world practically stopped at the moment he heard his child’s voice again. Sure, he gets to call her every day, but he could never get used to it, to the feeling, to her voice. The way she called him her father with enthusiasm and exhilaration, as if he was worth all the excitement. Then his lips curled into a soft smile once he fully processed the moment. “Hey… hey, baby, how are you?”

“I’m good!” She chirped sweetly. “Guess what?”

“What is it, sweetheart?” He replies excitedly.

“I can do a cartwheel now!” She exclaimed.

“Oh really?” He chuckles softly.

“Yeah! My friend Emmy, who-who’s in gymnastics, she showed me how!” Derek smiles as he continued to hear the purity and cheerfulness of his own daughter’s voice. His heart melted every time he heard her, every mispronunciation, every babble.

“That’s amazing, honey!” He praised with admiration.

Her happiness was overwhelming. While he was proud of her—and he was—he couldn’t help but feel miserable. He couldn’t be there to see it. To see his daughter, unlike other kids, finish all her vegetables without any problems. To see her do a cartwheel for the very first time.

“I wish you could see it, daddy! It’s so cool!”

“I bet it is, Jess,” he replies joyfully, ensuring that there were no hints of anguish in his tone. “I wish I could see it too.”

It hurt him a lot, if he had to be honest—not being able to see his daughter and her achievements and growth in person. It was slowly, deliberately killing him.

“And-and yesterday, p/n’s friend Josh took us to the aquarium!” she giggled.

Oh, right. Your new boyfriend. Josh.

Josh, the one who always took you out to dinner whenever he could. The one who treated your daughter with ice cream regularly.

Josh, the one with a clean background and normal, humble life.

Josh, the one who Jess mentioned on several occasions, especially whenever she brought up your happiness.

Derek felt his mouth become dry, obligated to lick his lips. He gulped, attempting to disregard the whole painful ‘Josh’ thing with a relevant question. “Yeah? What kinds of animals did you see there?” He asked curiously.

“There were a lot of fishes, and penguins, and seahorses, and turtles, and octopuses! But my favorite were the seals,” she babbles gleefully, completely ignorant of the entire situation.

“That sounds so fun, baby,” he replied with a wide smile. “Why are seals your favorite?”

“I don’t know. They’re just really cute,” she shrugs with an innocent giggle. “P/n said that they remind them of you, though.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Your p/n said that?”

“Mhm!”

“Me? Seals?”

“Yeah. They said it was because you had big puppy eyes,” she giggles.

Derek laughs. It felt nice to hear that you still spoke of him to your daughter, let alone fondly. And it was also very typical of you to say; hearing that was inexplicably nostalgic. It warmed his heart. “Can’t argue with that.”

A pondering thought lingered in his mind as he thought about you, and he felt it eating at him.

“Hey, baby, can I ask you something?” He implores gently.

“Okay!” she replies simply.

“Is… Is your P/n happy?” Derek felt nervous as he asked this question.

“Yeah!” she babbles cheerfully. “They’re always happy!”

There was a wave of a warm, bittersweet feeling in his chest as he smiled softly to himself. But also relief. He still cared about you, so, so much. Derek regrets leaving you that day. He wants to come back for Jess, of course. But he also wants to come back to you.

Derek opened his mouth to speak, until suddenly—

“Oh. P/n wants to be back on the phone.”

Derek’s smile falters immediately. He knew you never really approved of any interaction between him and your daughter, so he assumed you wanted to cut the call short. But in the end, nothing would be enough for him. Not a five minute or five hour call. He would sacrifice anything to see her. But he knew that as long as you never forgive him, it’ll never happen. “O-okay, baby. I love you, okay? Give—give the phone back to your p/n, please.”

“Okay! I love you! Bye daddy!”

He sighs as he heard the phone being passed to you, taking a deep breath as he prepared to speak to you once again. It was kind of draining, mostly because he was intimidated by you. Speaking to you was just a reminder of his failure, of how he failed you.

“Hey,” you sigh.

“Hey…”

There was a slight pause until Derek spoke up.

“So… seals remind you of me, huh?”

You groan playfully and place a hand on your forehead. “She told you that?”

“Mhm. I mean—personally, I don’t get why you’ve always talked out my eyes being ‘big and brown,’ like every time, you always said that same thing—”

“Because they are,” you chuckle under your breath. Little did he know, and little did Jess know, that she had his eyes. You had mixed feelings about Derek indefinitely, especially because of the past. But there was something so invigorating about talking about your daughter with him. “Did she tell you about the cartwheel?”

“Yeah,” he replies with a grin on his face. Knowing him for a long time, you could imagine how his face looked just by the sound of his voice. “I’m so proud of her.”

“You know, um… she’s very invested in math right now,” you bring up.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, there was this, uh, cartoon… on the TV showing simple math problems and uh… she just sorta fell in love with it. She wanted me to teach her more,” you reiterate. “Derek, she’s four.”

Derek listened in awe, becoming more and more amazed by his daughter.

“Really? She wanted to learn math?”

“Yeah,” you were practically beaming. “She is so smart, Derek,” you affirm, “Our—our daughter, she is so smart.”

”Y-yeah. She—she really is,” he replied briefly with mere astonishment.

That was the first time that you referred to your daughter as his. ‘Our,’ echoed in his mind. ‘Our daughter.’ He wasn’t sure that you even caught that, that it was intentional, because you said it so naturally and quick, but… he couldn’t help but feel good about himself—about everything—after that.

There was a short pause before you cleared your throat. “Hey, um… I thought about it a lot and, uh… I have this business thing across the country… and, um… I was planning on having my mom watch her or a sitter, but, uh…”

You pause, afraid to even make the proposal.

“I wanted you to watch her. On that weekend. You can, uh… finally meet her, spend time with her, and…”

Derek was in complete shock. His eyes were wide, he felt his entire body freeze, it was like he couldn’t move.

“When is this?” He uttered quietly in disbelief.

“In two weeks,” you answer, “Are you up for it?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course. Of course, I…” Derek was incredibly astonished. Was this even real? You were finally going to let him see his daughter? “Of course. I’ll—I’ll be there.” He was so prepared to cancel every single plan on that weekend, clearing up his schedule just for Jess.

“Y/n, thank you. Thank you so much, I…” He was still in utter shock. It was unexpected after all, just a few minutes ago you had denied him again. But while your daughter was calling him, you got an email from your work, reminding you about the business trip. You weren’t entirely sure why you changed your mind like this. You just hoped that you wouldn’t regret it.

“Just… please don’t mess it up,” you sigh exasperatedly.

“I—I won’t,” he says confidently. Derek felt his hands shake ever so slightly, eyes watering from the realization he had—he was going to see his kid. For the first time, he was going to see his child.

“Okay.”

Derek felt emotional. He was actually going to see his kid. He was actually going to watch her cartwheel, he was actually going to hold her. He could take her out for ice cream like… how Josh had.

Derek gulped as he pondered.

“Y/n?” He mumbles silently.

You hum in response.

“I, uh… How are—How are you doing?”

“I’m doing alright, Derek,” you reply briefly.

You said his name softly this time, however—not harshly like before. It tugged on his weak heartstrings as if they were useless, frayed string.

And then there was an awful, deafening pause.

“I, uh… I still really love you, Y/n.”

You felt your heart sink before it shattered completely. Your vision began to become blurry with your now glassy eyes. It hurt. This all hurt.

Derek wouldn’t know much this affected you, however. He could only hear your voice or your silence. He’d never know how awful you felt just from hearing that, like how awful he felt from blurting it out. He believed you completely moved on from him. But he adored you, to say the very least, hopelessly. It was simply a cry for a second chance.

There was a terrible, piercing silence. Were you still there, behind the phone?

“Y/n…?”

You were speechless for too long as his words lingered horribly in your mind.

Then finally…

“I know,” he heard you reply softly, under your trembled breath.

“I—I still care about you,” you add. Wrong. You still love him too. But he would never know that. He would be foolish to assume without hearing the three words leave your own lips. And you couldn’t. You couldn’t tell him that you still loved him, because he would just hold on and hope longer. So instead, you express your gratitude for him. “Um… Thank you for… for all the good times… for being in my life…

You were a wonderful experience.”

[porcelainbunnyprincess]

🎰♥️💵𝕃𝕠𝕒𝕟 𝕕𝕚𝕘𝕘𝕖𝕣💵♥️🎰

Pairing: Vendetta! Leon Kennedy x Fem! reader (afab)

Summary: You lost your game of blackjack against Leon, but you can't afford to pay him, so, he comes up with another form of payment.

A/N: I don't know how accurate i made the blackjack game, haven't played in a while.

Tags: Nsfw (Minors do not interact), Gambling, oral (F recieving), unprotected P in V (Don't be like this two, be safe), debt paying sex, older Leon, creampie,

thank @explorevenus for being my beta reader, love u.

Text dividers

Ah casinos, nothing better for your drunken ass than the smell of whiskey and blood inside of the room, paired with the hypnotic sounds of the machines inside of the casino, and the clinking of glasses and discarded liquor bottles. Sometimes, the table beside you would suddenly become agitated and you would turn around to the men yelling and cursing, throwing punches over an accusation of cheating, or the fact there was no money to pay their debts.

As the dealer came back, you found this time, your game wasn’t against the dealer himself, rather, a man across the table from you. dark brown hair juxtaposed against his ice blue eyes, not lying around it, this man was hot. Sure enough you two were given each other's names through the Dealer, who just in case, ran over the Casino’s rule for the game, Blackjack.

“you two will start with two cards upside down, and set your wagers each” Each of you with different amounts of casino chips, some stacks larger than others depending on the color. “The word hit will give you one more card. Stand, will give you none. double down means you’ll up the wager and get a new card, and surrender means the game is halted and your opponent wins”

Quite simple. you had the opportunity to create four stacks of cards, and pray to the lord, you chose where to place them correctly so that one of the stacks would amount to your total.

“Whoever scores a perfect 21, wins. if none of your stacks amount to 21, the closest one will win”

His voice seemed tired of explaining this, who knows how many times. and the ‘chin’ of the sloth machines rumbled through the room. Both of you nodded, giving room for the dealer to shuffle the cards and throw them upside down towards each of you.

Leon, your opponent was smirking at you the whole time “Good luck Dollface, you’ll need it”, he was rather cocky, taking his cards and laying them down very carefully.

“Sure” you replied back, just taking your time to pick if you would stack them up or divide them, but you decided to keep them separate. Staring at him, wondering how he could be so confident, for all he knew he could get all high numbers and get fucked.

“Mr. Kennedy, your turn”

“hit” a card was slid to him.

Game on. for what felt like eternity you two ordered around the poor dealer, more and more cards slipped into your hands, Leon kept upping the wager over and over again. Like a broken record he repeated “Double up” and added more and more black tokens, he seemed so confident to just keep upping it a hundred at a time, and every time he did, your heart pounded as he reached numbers there was no way in hell you could pay.

You could give up sure, but that would mean paying the absurd amount he was setting up, it almost felt like he was forcing you to keep playing, looking at him, his smirk alone could tell you that he knew you couldn’t pay if you lost, he knew you would be fucked if you lost.

"Double up" Leon said again, almost laughing. Apparently you weren't being so good at hiding your face of absolute horror as he added another Black token to the pile. 

34 black tokens, piled in 3 lines of 10 and one of found. You were in too deep, 3,400 dollars at game here, and you simply couldn't process how the fuck was he so calm.

"Miss" the dealer called you back to reality "you gonna up the wager too?"

His eyebrow lifted, and honestly looked at you with an amount of concern.

"No, i… i stand"

"Very well"

You barely had added any tokens yourself, maybe amounting to 500 dollars, which was still a ridiculous amount. But your gut felt even heavier when you remember that added up, the entire bet was almost 4000.

"Double up" and this time… he added 5 tokens at once.

"YOU'RE ACTUALLY INSANE?! 4,400 DOLLARS?! Down the fucking drain? Are you stupid?" You slammed the table and caused the piles to come crashing down.

"You can't afford it?" His laugh was something that sent shivers down your spine, making you feel warmth inside of you "Because then we can do some arrangements when you loose"

He sounded so confident.

"Ma'am, please sit back down"

The dealer commanded, guiding you into your seat "Stand", you almost immediately barked back, you weren't going to contribute to his stupid little bet.

"Sir?"

"Stand"

Game was over, he seemed rather fascinated at your reaction. And as the dealer turned the cards over, you began to count each stack, 12, 17, 22 and 19.

You had even gone overboard, but as long as he didn't have a 20-21 you'd be ok, you should be, but to your absolute dismay you say how the cards being flipped were telling a completely different story.

17,20,21 and 18.

"Leon kennedy Wins the prize of 4,400 dollars"

The color from your face drained as the realization you had to pay him more than half of a month of your salary hit you, while he stood up and held his hand out.

"Good game doll, you came close"

You took it, shaking and trying to figure out where that money would come from.

"I told you, if you can't pay we maybe can do an arrangement hun"

Your eyes lit up almost instantly as he offered an alternative, quickly standing up and listening to him.

"I noticed how you looked at me" his hand reaching for your hair "and i also noticed how pretty you are" playing around and tangling his fingers in-between the locks.

"How about you keep those 4 thousand and I'll give you the night of your life in exchange?"

You took a good look at him, he was built like a greek god and honestly you saw no problem with the idea of paying him by letting him use you, it even sounded like a reward for you.

"Really?"

"Yes, I don't need more money" he snorted and pulled you closer, whispering into your ear "so?"

"Fuck—" a drowned whimper paired with the thrust of your hips, Leon had you sitting on his desk, legs on his shoulders as he passed his tongue through your clothed cunt.

Debt paying didn't sound so goddamned bad when the form of payment was letting yourself be eaten out by someone to the likes of Leon.

"Fucking dripping" he laughed "all just from my tongue? Fucking slut"

He proceeded to push your panties to the side, enjoying the look of your pussy covered in slick. Pushing his face into you while sucking greedily at your clit.

Your hips rutting into his face, making him groan into your pussy and sending waves of pleasure through your core as the vibration hits you.

You hands on his hair, he lowers his tongue, teasing your entry before pushing it inside of you, making you twitch and let out a moan of his name.

"There go" he laughed against your cunt, pulling away and making you whine in need.

He unbuckled his belt, slipping it off and discarding it to the floor of the office. Snapping open his pants and pulling himself out.

You bit your lip as he stroke the shaft, his tip weeping with precum.

Not even letting you react before he pulled your thighs and dragged you closer, making you gasp before he began to tease your slit with his head.

You made a whimper and gripped harder to the table, so much it'd leave marks on the wood. Leon laughed "how sensitive" lowering to your face before kissing you, prodding your mouth open and getting your tongues to dance and swirl around each other.

Soon enough he directed his cock to your entrance and began to sink inside you, making you moan against his lips.

Stretching you with his dick, he finally pulled away from your lips "taking me so well, right bunny?" You nodded desperately like an idiot, making him laugh.

He began thrusting slowly against you, enjoying the look on your face of pure pleasure with your eyes rolled back.

The little noises spilling from your mouth were like no other music "You enjoying paying i see" he mocked, before suddenly pulling halfway and then slamming right back into you.

The lewd scream you let out, somehow didn't get listened to through the rest of the white house. He dug his fingers in the plush of your thighs as he rammed into your wet cunt.

"Gonna fill you up, nice and good" he grunted "and you'll be a good slut and take it".

It was the fact that you pathetically kept bopping your head and agreeing to his every word that got Leon even more aroused, especially with how tight your walls are squeezing him.

"f-fuck, Leon I'm—" 

"I know pretty girl" you were painfully obvious to read, he reached out a hand and began making circles on top of your swollen clit, chasing your high more than his own, despite being close himself.

And it didn't take long for you to reach orgasm, legs twitching harshly from pleasure.

"That's it, that's a good girl" he muttered, some thrusts later and you could feel him spill inside of you, making you feel this weird pleasure.

He pulled out, and watched with a smirk as his cum spilled out of your pussy.

"Debt paid young lady" he laughed.

Maybe you should lose games more often.

[capricorn-the-goat]

*POV* the chain figuring out the timeline

SKY: Alright, let’s say this again because Hylia almighty… I’m from the very beginning of the timeline, right?

LEGEND: yep, no one in your time period has ever heard of anything called Hyrule and you created the master sword.

FOUR: And I’m next, because my time period comes only a century or so after Hyrule’s founding and there’s no mention of Ganon anywhere.

TIME: Yep. And I’m next, because everyone else has heard of me?

LEGEND: correct. Which leads to the timeline split…

*groans*

WIND: … I come from a time where you defeated Ganon as an adult because of our stories and legends matching with your adventures? And I have to be separate from everyone else in general because my hyrule was flooded?

TIME: yep.

TWILIGHT: and I come from a timeline where you went back in time and stopped your adventure from ever happening? Simply because of the fact that I’m your bloodline descendant and therefore come from a time period where you had kids?

TIME: *grimace* yep.

LEGEND: And I come from a timeline where you lost, because we have the stories of a hero who was killed.

HYRULE: and I therefore have to be in the same timeline because he exists as a legend in my time period.

LEGEND AND FOUR: yep.

WARRIORS: so… where the hell do I exist?

FOUR: our working theory is that you were originally part of Twilight’s timeline, but because of what happened in your adventure, you’re now a part of what we call the Unified timeline, where you have elements of a lot of time periods crammed into one timeline.

WARRIORS: oh, ok, great.

LEGEND: and wild probably exists in this new timeline or in any of the others. He’s too far out to accurately judge.

*10 seconds of silence*

WILD: did I accidentally eat those weird mushrooms again or was that entire conversation real?

LEGEND: *rubbing his eyes* no, it’s rea-… again?

[malum-forev]

Non Exclusive

Bucky warmed the single beer he’d been nursing for hours by holding it with both hands. He blew air into the top of the bottle, making the glass whistle as he shifted on both legs. He glanced your way twice, not wanting to make it obvious he was staring. 

Sam pulled up next to the brunet, switching up his flat beer for a newer, colder one. 

“How much longer are you going to be lurking in the shadows?” Sam asked. “People have already started asking me who the peeping tom is.”

“I’m not staring.” Was all Bucky said. 

“Staring, wanting to burst Garrett’s head with your mind, tomato, tomato.” Sam sipped his beer, leaning back on the wall to join his friend. “You look pretty jealous Buck. I thought you said you and (Y/N) had agreed on just sex.” 

“It is just sex.” Bucky rolled his eyes. 

Bucky let his blue eyes roam your body, he had made it his personal mission to memorize the curves on your body. It was like he had X-Ray vision and he could accurately pinpoint where each and every one of your moles and scars were.  

Sam hummed. “If you two aren’t exclusive, then tell me who you’ve fucked other than her lately.”

Bucky realized it would have been too embarrassing for him to say he’d turned down more than a couple of offers. To be honest, once he got used to this new world, Bucky was- what’s the correct word?- he was liberated. 

When Dr. Raynor told him he was free and he’d asked her “Free to do what?” 

He didn’t think fucking every single woman within a five-mile radius would be her answer- but that’s what he did. And it was amazing. He wasn’t used to women being so open about how he made them feel, Bucky had even asked for pointers to make the experience more pleasurable for them. There wasn’t a clause in his contract that forbid him from fraternizing with other agents and boy did he make some of his higher ups wish they did. 

The Winter Soldier had gotten quite the reputation for being an expert in the one and done category. Making women all around the compound want him even more, wishing they would be the ones to return the soldier back to his 40’s ways. None of them had been successful. 

But something changed when he met you. You’d been on the team for some time now but you had never expressed any interest in him. Until that night. For Bucky, his life would be separated into two categories: Before You and After You. 

It was a late night and you came into his office with your tactical suit zipped down to your waist with a tight cropped shirt underneath that begged to be taken off, your hair that was usually up in a ponytail had been let free a long time ago.

Bucky gulped as you leaned over the table to reach for something, your breasts taunting him.

Before he knew it, your lips were on his. You were running your hands through his short hair, trying to grip anything. Your ragged breaths only pushed your breasts closer to him, making him go feral. 

“I’m not looking for anything serious.” He panted.

Your devious smile only made him harder. “Neither am I.” 

Ever since that day, he’d been entranced. Of course he enjoyed sex with other women but with you, Bucky felt a deep connection. Like you were made for him, you introduced Bucky to a pleasure high he didn’t think was even possible or existed for that matter. 

It started when he called you after a mission, wanting to get rid of pent-up aggression. Bucky was extra happy when you’d told him you were more than happy to let him use your body, that day he’d introduced you to the stars. Fucking you into oblivion. 

Then, it was once a week at least. 

“Training has been-“ Bucky said between thrusts but you shushed him. 

You craned your neck from your position on all fours, locking with his darkened and lustful eyes. “Concentrate on me, on us.”

Bucky thought it was a miracle he didn’t come then and there, just from your words. 

You laid in bed with him after the two of you had finished. You closed your eyes and leaned your head back on his almost flat pillows before focusing all your energy- whatever he hadn’t drained- into lifting your body. 

“A-are you leaving already?” Bucky’s voice was just above a whisper. 

“I didn’t think you wanted me to stay longer.” You chuckled. 

Bucky’s eyes furrowed. “What makes you think that?”

“I thought you used those as a quick fuck quick exit tactic.” You pointed at the uncomfortable pillows. “You know, to make your guest understand they shouldn’t overstay their welcome.”

When you came over a week later, a couple of things had changed in his room. On the nightstand opposite his were a couple of boxes of tampons, one candle, a toothbrush and an oversized vintage t-shirt of his. You fought back a smile as you saw a brand-new fluffy pillow rest next to his flat one on the bed with the tags still attached. 

“Did you take some pointers from romantic comedies?” You bit your bottom lip. 

Bucky smiled, kneeling between your legs perched at the edge of the bed. “Concentrate on me.” 

You threw your head back with a moan as he lowered his head in between your thighs. 

“I’ll take your lack of an answer as a no.” Sam laughed. “The fuckboy became the simp.”

“What of course I’ve been seeing other people.” Bucky scoffed. “Yes, I’ve been doing a lot of that. Recently. Constantly.”

Sam crossed his arms over his chest. “Then I assume you won’t care if I told you Thor is coming to the compound next week.”

The sound of his name made the blood coursing through Bucky’s veins become hot. He clamped down on his molars. 

“I thought he wasn’t returning, at least not soon.” Bucky tried to sound relaxed, like he totally didn’t care that the man you have the biggest crush on would be training with the team. 

Sam shrugged. “Something about having intel.”

“What kind of intel could he have that we couldn’t easily get.” Bucky rolled his eyes and sipped the beer. 

“You’re seriously considering you have more information than the literal God of Thunder?”

Bucky cleared his throat. “It’s not like I care anyways.”

“You don’t?” Sam pushed.

“I. don’t. care.” Bucky enunciated each word, following your hands as you placed them on Garrett’s chest. 

“When’s the whole Mr. Casual act going to stop?” Sam asked. 

“You know me-“ Bucky let out a strained smile. “Monogamy bores me. Being with only one woman, for the rest of my life, the whole get married and spend eternity wishing I would die at the same time as her so I don’t need to spend another minute of my time on Earth without her- yeah that doesn’t sound like me.” 

Sam judged his friend silently. 

“She can go home with Garrett and I wouldn’t care-“ Bucky laughed into his beer. “Plus he’s like a full four inches shorter than me so- yeah I don’t care.”

Just as Sam was about to say something, his friends eyes lit up and for the first time in hours he saw Bucky look not miserable- dare he even say happy?

You strutted towards the soldier, your happy glow transferring onto him. 

“How about you take me back to your place, Sarge?” You whispered into his ear. 

Bucky’s face lit up and he took your hand, quickly waving back at Sam. “If you have an emergency, don't call!”

I'm the worst at writing even mild spice so pls don't kill me if this is cringeeee. I triedddd and I'm a sucker for slutty Buck.

tagged: @kpopgirlbtssvt @shara-ne @namelesssaviour@hallecarey1

[bloodyinkandquill]

Rocket and sibling Reader

ok it is a full week since i last worked on any of these, lets try and get like three done and post them all, we got rocket and singling reader first coolio, ok technically we have shuriken x knife reader then toxic yuri reader x scythe but i have no clue what to do for the shuriken x knife reader imma reach out to the requester if they didn’t request on anon and ill do the scythe after this because i kin rocket so i wanna do this first, even if i self ship with scythe

- Even if Pokémon doesn’t exist in the world of Phighting you and your brother are straight up Team Rocket Jessie and James, one of you spawned, hung around the spawn building for a little while when suddenly ‘you have a sibling here you go’

haven’t worked on this since the 21st it’s the 15th now, ok let’s do this shit i’ve got kesha playing for motivation it’s only 10:30 i got this… let me read his wiki real quick so this is as accurate as possible, alright let’s do this, chappell roan decided to play but im not complaining about good luck babe

- Even thought one of you is older by a few months, maybe a year at most, you just decide to say you’re twins, sharing a spawn day even if legally that is not your spawning day, while still in the spawn building’s care you get each other a small but heartfelt gift, either stolen, bought with stolen money, or hand made, you both kept every gift

- You both had explosive and dangerous gears, and with how violent Playground is you both end up angry and in a lot of fights, but the only demon either of you let your guard down around is each other, dressing the others knuckles with stolen gauze as they either boast about the fight they just won or grumble that they didn’t even try

- Since unless you’re both in private you don’t let your guards down if either of you wanna discretely say ‘I’m here’ you softly bump horns, almost in a pavlovian fashion both of you instantly calm down some

- You two only really had each other so you both were very clingy to each other, falling asleep in whatever shelter you could cuddling to conserve warmth, and it makes it easier to protect each other in case someone stumbles upon you two, usually thought you would take turns sleeping and the other would keep watch, Playground is fucking dangerous so neither of you felt too comfortable both sleeping at the same time, especially when you had no home, just abandoned buildings or dark forgotten alleyways

- Rocket is a bit more reckless than you, so you on probably four, maybe five separate occasions had to grab him and book it, a wrongly timed and placed rocket and people were chasing you wanting you dead, he’d laugh maniacally and you would join him, once you two were somewhere safe that is, but if you got hurt because of him he’d feel like shit, if it was bad he might even cry and beg for you to forgive him, but you could never stay mad at your brother, after all you only had each other

- When the incident happened that cost him an arm and a leg you weren’t spared, coming out with your own bad injuries too, you both knew, you had to get out of this place, it was too dangerous and you couldn’t loose each other, so you left once and for all, vowing to never come back

- -Skip to after Zuka adopts you i’ve wrote how i think that went down before for a creative writing assignment i don’t wanna do it again sue me

- You slowly began to relax, Zuka gaining your trusts slowly but steadily, giving you what you needed, space, a shoulder to lean on, a trip to a rage room, whatever, overtime you both calmed down more, redirecting your anger to pyromania, ok maybe not the best but fire and explosions were fun!

- One day Zuka called to you that you had guests, when you went to the living room the last thing you expected to see was a deity but his son was chill, the three of you got along great, slowly becoming amazing friends, when he recounted a time two years ago he dyed his horns green to match his dad it gave Rocket an idea

- From that day onwards Rocket had you or Sword help him carve his horns to look more like your adoptive father, you’d chat, gossip, smack talk, and bicker while shaving down the extra parts on your bother’s horns, it was during one of these monthly times that you jokingly suggested maybe you two could become phighters, fast forward two months later you were sneaking out to go sign up for the next phight, Zuka wouldn’t approve so it was easier to ask for forgiveness then to ask for permission

- Even as you two changed your relationship never really did, you two stayed incredibly close, still pretending you were twins and even if you were no longer alone you both knew you could rely on each other to hell and back

coolio hope this is good lemme work on the next one, it’s 11 if i keep up with this pace i’ll have the three finished before midnight then i can do the final request(s?) tomorrow morning since i’ve got classes

[sapphicseasapphire]

Miscellaneous Cryptid au lore bits that are too short/too specific to make it into individual posts!

If you want more information about any of these, feel free to ask! I’m always willing to ramble about my Little Guys haha!

(In no particular order)

• Sky’s wings are too big to fit through doors. He will 100% for sure run into people in a crowded street. Because of this, he stays behind when the others go to villages. This gets incredibly lonely for our friendly little bird boy so eventually it’s decided that someone has to stay with him. This leads to one on one bonding between Sky and everyone in the Chain! (Except Time)

• Four can control water, earth, fire, and air, but not particularly well. Jack of all trades is a master of none. That being said, each individual color is a master of their element, so when separated, they are a FORCE to be reconned with. Their diminished power as a whole is a huge source of frustration for them, but I can’t let them be too powerful.

• After the their adventure is over, Time lives out the rest of what would have been his mortal life with Malon, then he takes care of his children, and his children’s children. But eventually he’s just… lived too long. His humanity falls away and he becomes more and more of a God and stops interacting with mortals almost entirely. Except when the other Links are born in their own eras, Time looks after them Father Time style and if they fall, he rewinds to before they were injured (their last “save point”) and pushes them to a better path. (Game over. Continue?)

• Even if someone is born with the blood of a God, their powers need to be awakened. This usually happens in a moment of desperation. For example, during Time’s adventures, he meddled with the flow of time so much that it became his dominion. Twilight’s powers awakened when he was like two years old. His parents had been killed by monsters- monsters that were now looking for him. And in his desperation, he looked to a squirrel in the tree above and he copied it. The monsters lost track of him, ignoring the animals of the forest. Time was gifted, well… time… because against a falling moon, it was his last hope. Twilight was gifted shape shifting because he had no other chance of survival.

^ Hylia doesn’t count because she was one of the original Goddesses. Many of the Zeldas, while they do possess the blood of the Goddess, have not had their awakening. Yet.

• Warriors will sometimes blurt out random sets of data without being prompted. He’ll ask to run calculations on things that no one has ever asked him to. And while the others might find this confusing, it’s his way of expressing his interests. Of learning more about the things that he likes, of telling people about the things that he likes. This happens rarely, but when it does, Sky drops EVERYTHING to talk with him, so excited to see him opening up.

• The Legend of the Godkiller is a very idealized and not very accurate retelling of Sky’s final battle against Demise. It paints him as a very confident, willing knight of the Goddess. Full of righteous anger and absolutely thrumming with power. In the story that Time knows, Sky wasn’t even scared. He knew he was capable of killing Demise, and he wasn’t even surprised when he was cursed. This is… far from the truth.

• Yeah, Time knows about Sky’s curse. But what’s he gonna do? Confront him about it? Tell the others? And risk drawing the wrath of the Godkiller? Absolutely not.

• Wild is more sentient than he lets on. He understands more than the others might think. He’s a little chaos gremlin who gets so easily distracted and acts more like a wild animal than a person, but he’s very smart. He couldn’t do long division but he can tell that… something’s not right with Sky and the Master Sword. The others haven’t caught on yet.

• Wild KNOWS THINGS. That he SHOULDN’T.

• Hyrule is so incredibly timid by nature. He’s used to being hunted: first as a fairy, sought for his healing magic, and then because of his blood curse, sought by monsters to bring about the revival of Ganon. Because of this, he’s incredibly shy. Until one of his companions gets hurt!! Then he’s ALL BUSINESS and he speaks with the authority that one might expect from a fairy so powerful.

• Speaking of that! At first, no one knew he was a fairy! He was afraid that they’d bottle him (they had other bottled fairies in their pouches when he’d first met the others, so it was justified). He kept up his glamour until he physically couldn’t anymore. The others knew he was a magic user- he tended to fight less with a sword and more with his spells and had an affinity for healing, but they didn’t know JUST how powerful he was until his glamour fell apart.

• Hyrule’s glamour can change the way that people see things, but it cannot change the physical shape of something. (Except himself, because his body is mostly magic anyway). For example, he could hide Four’s horns, but if you were to touch the top of Four’s head, you’d still feel them! He can make Wild look like a Hylian, but that doesn’t make their antennae go away. This is why Sky can’t go into towns: his wings may be invisible, but they’re still there, they can still feel pain and can still bump into people and walls. So… he can’t fit, unfortunately.

• The best swimmer (aside from Legend, Ravio, and Wind) is Sky. Which is weird, right? One might think that those massive wings would slow him down. But he has the Water Dragon’s Scale! Everyone’s so surprised when he starts racing people and WINNING. When he jumps out of the water in a spiral spin. Legend can call him a cheater all he wants, but he’ll be a hypocrite for it. He can’t say anything about using magic items to bolster abilities.

• Legend and Wind go from enemies to best friends in the course of like a month. They bond over a war and the ocean, and their connection is strengthened by the conflict that they’re both familiar with. Honestly a big reason that Legend warms up to Wind is that Ravio is fond of him. Also it’s actually impossible to hate Wind. Also he went to Outset that one time and was ablel to better understand Wind’s perspective.

• Wind dies a little bit inside every time Aryll or his grandma call themselves a Sea Monster. But he doesn’t have the heart to correct them.

• Ravio was never really afraid of Wind himself. More so… afraid of the monster that he had the potential to be (Ku). When Wind was never corrupted, Ravio had no reason to hate him! So they became friends during the War of Eras.

• Ravio joins the Chain very late. But we love him anyway.

• Twilight has little nicknames for everyone. If he calls them by their actual name/their title, they’re in trouble.

• Four only splits around Sky, Warriors, Hyrule and Twilight at first. Actually, the first person they split in front of was Sky but that was an accident. Once they determine that it’s safe, they start doing it around the others… slowly but surely…

• Post God Reveal, Legend and Four join Sky in the “distrust Time” corner

• Time wields Wars’ sword because Wars has deemed him the most powerful. Because of this, Warriors will go with Time when their adventure comes to an end. (This way, neither of them have to face eternity alone).

• I know I made a whole big long post about what happens to Mer if they don’t soak, but I neglected to say that all that will happen to Aquili too, just to a lesser extent. Wind needs to soak as well, just not as often as Legend and Ravio do.

• Mer cannot assume their natural form if they have anything on their legs/feet where their tail would go. Ravio’s… not wearing anything under his robes. And Legend… isn’t wearing anything under his skirt. Being barefoot definitely isn’t ideal but it’s better than the alternative: being unable to soak and drying out. Now, they could simply remove their shoes/pants, but they’re traveling and often in battle and they don’t always have the time to shed their clothes. If they need to jump into the water? They jump into the water.

• During Legend’s adventures, him being Mer was a secret. (The Zora were already antagonistic- imagine what they’d do if they knew he was a war mongering Mer!) This is why he needed flippers or a magic item to be able to swim- something on his feet or something magically imbued to keep him from transforming.

• For Sky, Link and Aepon are generally completely fused, but there are certain events that can force an imbalance between their influence over him. For example, if he’s hurt and takes a heart potion for healing, the body is healed, his Link half is healed, but is Aepon half is still weakened. The others might notice that he acts differently after taking a potion and he just seems very… unwell. Distressed, panicked. But also, he has both Aepon dreams and Link dreams. And depending on their frequency and severity, they can affect how he acts when he wakes, at least until both halves are sufficiently awake.

• When Sky’s Aepon half is more dominant, he is actually legitimately a bird. He doesn’t speak, he just chirps and squawks and trills like a bird. He looses all sense of personal space. And he’ll LOOSE IT if his feathers are touched.

• Sky can’t see well at night but he has a much greater endurance for looking at bright things.

• Hyrule hangs out around Sky as much as he can because Sky can’t take heart potions and also his bones are literally hollow and can break a lot easier than the others’

• Hyrule is a GIFT to this world and I don’t draw him enough.

I have a LOT MORE to say about these guys but this is just off the top of my head right now. Also I don’t want to spoil story elements! But let me know if you have any questions or want more context! I have short stories written about like half of these.



[jolenes-doppelganger]

Hi, I really enjoyed the way you write about Rose, so I was wondering if you could write a one shot about Rose The Hat/fem!reader where the reader is a member of the True Knot and can predict the future. As per the story of the book, part of the True Knot left Rose because they were afraid of Abra and the reader went away with them, however she saw a vision of Rose's death and came back just in time to save her :) sorry if my request is not clear, because I write with the help of a translator :)

[Hello lovelies! Super cute ideas! :) I definitely had fun with this one. I hope you don’t mind that I combined both of your asks to write this, I figured they were similar enough to do so.]

Doomsday

Rose the Hat x Fem! True Knot Reader

Summary: The tension between Rose the Hat and Reader leading up to the accident of the Overlook is both productive, and almost damning. Between the love triangle provoked by Rose’s dual pursuit of both Crow Daddy and R, Reader’s visions that produce a future Rose is too stubborn to acknowledge, and the fracturing of the True Knot following the failed capture of Abra, the world comes crashing down both metaphorically and literally as Rose is pulled back from the brink of death by Reader.

Warnings: Alludes to violence, description of gunshot wounds, dying via car crash, implied murder, more death. A metaphysical slap?Hurt/Comfort, hella angsty. Allusions to sex, but you don't get any. (Womp womp).

A/N: This is a re-imagining of the events of Doctor Sleep, what I would consider a healthy split between the book and the movie. It may be tempting to romanticize Rose as the victim here, (she’s evil and really, really, really deserves it), just don’t. The adapted 'Lodsam Hanti, Sabbatha Hanti' chant was translated with the help of this Reddit thread.

Word Count: 5.6k

Waking up in Snakebite Andi’s and Silent Sarey’s trailer felt… Wrong. Mostly because you’d been sleeping in Rose’s trailer for six months. Rose had been on the hunt for ‘the whale’ ever since she felt Abra looking in on her at the supermarket. She’d enlisted you to help. Sure, you could predict when it would rain, accidents, hell you’d predicted the 2017 Eagle Creek fire. The steam from that accident had been weak. Very few deaths. Not a proper ‘Big One’, as Rose called it, but there was something odd Rose had noticed. After taking a particularly good meal, as you’d had once or twice given how new you were to the Knot, you’d get these visions. Real proper visions. Rose had hunches, mostly. They were pretty accurate for hunches, but you, you got images. One trip into a casino, and the True Knot had walked out four hundred thousand richer, not like they needed the money. No, the Knot never needed anything, except steam.

“You gonna go back to the watchtower with Rose?” Andi yawned, in a bra and underwear.

As welcoming as Andi and Sarey were, they weren’t quiet hosts. Noise canceling headphones made little difference. You’d spent your night in interrupted sleep cycles, covering your head with a pillow as Sarey and Andi fucked like rabbits. 

“I don’t think Rose wants me there today.” you answered.

“How come?” Andi asked.

Silent Sarey came up behind Andi, pressing her face into her lover’s neck. The two of them were adorable, the token queer couple in the troop of mostly straight men and women that made up the Knot. The twins were the next closest thing to queer. They didn’t really have gender identities, and they weren’t their own people. They kind of existed as facets of each other. Neither one had a gender or identity separate from the other, you supposed that might’ve made them nonbinary. The twins didn’t do labels aside from being ‘the twins’.  That was their thing. 

“Well…” you stammered, shaking your head to rid yourself of the extensive internal monologue, “She just doesn’t need me. You guys are going up to Frasier to get Abra today, and there’s nothing for me to do except stay with Rose. 

Sarey gave a nod. She struggled to communicate with most people in the Knot, except Andi. She’d whisper away in the lisped speech pattern she had, snuggling closer to her younger lover. But the nod was nice. It was her way of saying, ‘I’m listening’.

“Alright, well, I should be getting ready, we’re heading out early.” Andi smiled.

You nodded, pulling on your shoes and exiting your trailer. You didn’t need to be a witness to the farewell sex the couple would inevitably have. Besides, the morning was too fresh to spend in a stuffy trailer.

“Hiya Dreamie.” Barry the Chunk hooted.

Dreamie. That was your name. It’s what everyone called you, and you didn’t mind it. Better than ‘loonie’ or ‘make-believer’. There were worse words, but it was early. No sense in ruminating on the bad.

“Hi Barry.” you smiled back.

The camp was waking up. And you needed some time away from the masses. There was a tingling in the back of your head, an incessant itch. It was the telltale sign of a vision, and a big one. You debated going up to the watchtower. Rose would get the cue, but you and Rose weren’t exactly on good terms right now. Crow wasn’t on good terms with you.

“Dreamie. Rose wants you.” Crow said, scruffy voice jarring you from your thoughts.

“Speak of the devil.” you mumbled to yourself. “Got it, thanks Crow.”

“It’s Crow Daddy to you, Dreamie.” he gave a smile, too white teeth throwing off the otherwise cleverly hidden sneer.

“Got it.” you gave a curt nod.

Then it was back into the lion’s den. You gave a knock on her trailer door before you came in. A noncommittal hum was the permission granted. One step into the trailer and it was clear Rose and Crow had been fucking. The trailer reeked. 

“It’s nice outside, you should open a window.” 

Rose stretched her arms, in a set of mens pajama pants and a sheer bra. Always with the bras, was she allergic to shirts or something?

“Got any dreams, Dreamie?” Rose smirked, not unkindly.

Like it or not, Rose was always in a good mood after a night of fucking. Always. 

“I have an aura, actually.” you sighed.

“Of course you do.” Rose smirked. “I can feel it, the second you walked in. You get this smell to you.”

She stretched again, rotating and twisting her back until her entire spine cracked. It was a bit eerie, watching how far she could bend.

“Someone’s thoughts are loud this morning.” Rose teased.

You shrugged. She was unusually receptive this morning. Or just allergic to minding her own business. You said that one in your head a bit louder.

“Childish, really.” Rose rolled her eyes, stepping out of her bed and coming forward.

You shrugged, giving her an innocent look. Rose raised an eyebrow, and then she pounced. All six feet of her moved with the agility of a cat, snatching you for a deep hug.

“Hmm… You really do have that aura coming on… You always smell like sandalwood. It’s really strong.” Rose hummed.

“And you stink of sex.”

Rose gave a sharp laugh, pressing you tighter against her.

“You don’t like it? It’s my signature perfume.” Rose joked.

The thought was gag worthy. Mostly because the stench of sex was ninety percent Crow’s BO. God that man stunk sometimes.

“I’ll take a shower if you make me some coffee, hmm?” Rose smirked. 

“Deal.”

Rose smiled, turning and walking towards the shower cubicle in her trailer. She was connected to a water pump currently, she could enjoy a long, extensive shower at the cost of virtually nothing. This campsite was Knot property, after all. With her behind the closed door, you had an opportunity to fumigate the room with fresh air. Every single window in the trailer was open. You stripped her bed, mostly because a night with Crow out meant a night with you in. And sleeping in sheets someone had fucked in? Not ideal, to say the least.

“Honeybunch, I forgot a towel, do you mind?” Rose called.

You paused what you were doing, going to grab her a towel. You made it about halfway to the door before the aura in your head got deafeningly loud. It was always awful, getting a particularly intense vision. First your ears would ring, really fucking loud. And then you’d get nauseous. All the saliva would dry up on your tongue, your hands would shake, and the world would go fuzzy. If you could compare it to something, you’d compare it to how a diabetic felt when their blood sugar dropped. This wasn’t a crisis of the body, though the body exhibited symptoms, it was a crisis of the psyche.

“Honeybunch? Hey, Dreamie, hello?”

You couldn’t focus on Rose. You were hunched in her kitchen, head in between your knees, breathing in and out really slow.

“Dreamie? Helloooo?”

The water turned off. Rose opened the bathroom door sticking her head out. She looked up, at where your eye level would be, and then right back down. Rose swore softly, grabbing a robe hanging outside of the bathroom door, pulling it on.

“It’s a bad one, huh?”

You nodded, it was all the response you could give.

“Well let me know when the symptoms…”

Her voice dulled. High pitched ringing, deafening. Your vision swam and all you could do was focus on your breath before images slammed into your skull.

Gunshots. That was what you heard. A forest clearing with railroad tracks. Teeny town? Yes. Teeny Town. Your hands were shaking, a gun in them. A gunshot through your head took you out. Immediately your perspective shifted, slamming into another person only to be killed milliseconds later. In between the pain of shifting perspectives and violently intense sensations of being shot over and over, there were shapes. People contorting, half-translucent, bodies disappearing into clouds of smoke. All of this was awful, but what was worse was the scene change.

Darkness, a calm drive on a quiet road, music playing over the quiet buzz of radio static.

 The switch was so quick it gave you metaphysical whiplash, almost like your brain was rattling in its skull. A child’s voice with a man’s tamber. That’s what you would describe it as. Looking into the rearview, you made out the shape of a small girl with dark curls and deeply old-looking eyes. Too old for a child, like they were borrowed from a man’s broken stare. Your eyes were dark. A bearded face. Crow. It shook you to see through his eyes. The perspective of the world matched, almost like you were Crow. You couldn’t make out what the girl was saying, but you could make out the threat in them. That was before the car swerved, steering wheel slipping in your hands. This death, was drawn out. You could feel every bone in your neck and upper spine shatter as your head went right through the windshield. The realization that you were going to die, the horrible sense of anguish. And then you cycled. Once, twice, dust. 

“.... okay….. How long… Seizures.. Gone…”

So many voices spoke. Your head ached, so did your body. It felt like someone had shoved you into a dryer on the highest tumble setting, you were so sore.

“...There she is! Dreamie, wake up.”

Colors blurred together, someone shoved something into your lips. A straw. You sipped, juice hitting your tongue, bleeding into the metallic taste there. It stung; somewhere on your tongue there was a cut.

“Jesus, Dreamie, you scared the living shit out of us.” Barry said.

Your body lurched. An image flashed, what you thought would be another lurch from a shotgun was entirely different. Barry burning up with fever. Red welts all over him, like that childhood illness your Mom had vaccinated you for. Pox?

“Hey, hey, easy.” someone whispered.

Rose looked down at you, her face contorted into an expression that would surely accelerate the aging of her smile lines.

“She’s never had one this bad… She was seizing for five minutes before she stopped. Then the last one you saw for yourself.” Rose told Walnut, the doctor of the Knot.

He nodded, taking off the blood pressure cuff and stethoscope he’d been using.

“Well, she’s stable now, it should be okay for the group to leave, we’re already delayed by-”

“NO!”

Rose jolted, gaze snapping downwards. She gave you a confused, angry look.

“What do you mean no? Jesus, send them off already. I can handle little Ms. Visions here.”

Your mouth was so dry, tongue bleeding and swollen. Grabbing for her wrist, you tried to get Rose to understand, to listen, at the very least.

“Shh, tell me in a minute.” Rose replied.

You squeezed more insistently. Rose pursed her lips, looking down at you with a warning look. You stayed silent. Even if the Knot left without you being able to warn Rose, she could always call them back. You stayed with Apron Annie while Rose dressed, slapping her topper on her head before slipping out of her trailer door.

“You sure gave her a scare, you know?” Annie smiled sweetly. 

“I… I saw something bad.”

“I figured. You tell Rose first though. I wouldn’t know what to do with your visions.” Annie shook her head.

You curled into the older woman’s grasp. She’d been a runaway slave before the Knot. Crafty, quick, an avid reader. Nobody read more than Annie, simply because no one refused to be fooled like Annie. 

“And your hair is a rat’s nest, lord have mercy.” Annie sighed.

She got up, getting some of your hair tools before setting down to the task of combing out and braiding your hair. It was comforting, the massaging of rosemary oil into your scalp relieved some of the ache in your head.

“Walnut said to keep drinking that juice. Your blood sugar dropped during the seizure. You’d best listen.”

You nodded weakly, sipping the juice without complaint. Annie’s accent was creeping back in, it always did when she was being stern with somebody. 

“You jus’ rest here awhile.”

←→

It was safe to say Rose didn’t believe you. You’d sat down with her and explained the vision front to back, the men who’d done the shooting and Crow’s death via car crash.

“Rose, I know what I saw-”

“I. Don’t. Care.” Rose snapped. “We need this Abra girl, and the bitch child isn’t going to kill the team.”

Denial. Always with the fucking denial.

“Rose, please.” you tried to coax her.

“No, don’t ‘Rose’ me. Your blood sugar dropped, you had a seizure, and…”

Even Rose was having a hard time believing her own lie. She didn’t want to be wrong. Abra could fix all of the True Knot’s problems. Steam on demand? God, what a novelty. After Grandpa Flick had died, Rose had gone frantic. They’d lost three True in twenty years. Three. That was like losing three family members in two weeks and Crow was getting old. Last night had been an anomaly for them. A whole night of love making three weeks after they’d taken steam? God, that never happened. Rose was still aching from it, still sore from the intensity of it. How often could that be if they were taking steam every three months? Could Abra withstand every two? Every two months for ten, twenty years? They’d consistently age backwards. A secluded ranch, a house? Somewhere permanent? Rose needed that more than she cared to admit.

“Please call them back.” you pleaded.

Rose shook her head immediately. 

“No. No, no, NO!” Rose snarled. ‘They’ll snatch the girl in Frazier, kill the family if necessary. It’ll take three hours tops. I can’t lose this chance just because you had a bad dream.” she snapped.

She watched your mouth bob. There was real fear in your eyes, real anger. It reminded her of a child fighting a tantrum. God, you really were young. Seven years in the Knot, snatched at seventeen, eighteen? A baby. You were a total baby to her, and so fragile. You were young enough and new enough to your gifts that Rose could take a chance on your dreams being wrong. It was plausible that your gifts had far more variability than just visions of the future. She wasn’t going to waste the best catch of her life because someone had anxiety.

“When they all die, it’s your fault.” you mumbled, getting off the floor of her trailer and practically running out of the door.

“Come off your soap box, Dreamie!” Rose growled.

You were gone. But someone else was waiting at her doorstep.

“Rose, Walnut called. The sickness that took Flick? Barry has it.” Annie anxiously whispered.

Rose’s breath caught in her chest. The sickness? Flick had died of old age, exasperated by heart conditions, not a sickness. But that was a lie too. For a week now, members of the Knot had been waking up with red spots on their bodies. Walnut had brushed it off as a skin condition from the bad showers, but privately he had told Rose a different story. The Knot was sick, they needed steam. Steam from a young, healthy, vaccinated child like Abra. Chicken pox was his diagnosis. And the True Knot weren’t healthy enough to withstand it.

←→

A night later, Walnut called. Barry was getting worse. He was starting to cycle. The group was scared and facing the possible passing of one of their own. There’d be no time to delay, they needed to work fast, leading Crow to split up and take a more direct approach to the girl’s residence. For the first time since the invention of the interstate, Rose told her people to speed.

“Rose, Dreamie is asking for you.” Annie interrupted her thoughts.

Rose turned, smiling up at her longtime friend. The smile fell off of her face, landing on the floor like a glass dish. Her stomach lurched. Annie had a spot on her neck, a big one too. Giving a tighter, less genuine smile, Rose slipped out of her trailer. Dreamie was curled up in a camp chair. She looked cozy, in blankets. Rose’s mind was elsewhere, she had every reason to prepare for a fight.

“If you’re here to tell me-”

“I’m not.” you cut her off, looking up at her gently.

Rose let out a breath and then nodded. She motioned you up, sat in the chair and opened her arms. You were a comforting weight in her grasp, and you smelled faintly of sandalwood. You’d have another vision soon, not that Rose cared. What was more pressing was the weight of your body on hers leaving her feeling soft, a bit vulnerable.

“Spend the night with me.” Rose whispered. “No strings attached.”

Rose needed it. She needed the intimacy of a night with someone young, inexperienced.

“What about Crow?” you whispered back, face twisted into an anxious look.

Rose sniffed, letting out an annoyed breath. She’d had enough of your anxiety for three decades. But they were so close to getting it all, and Rose wanted it all. 

“Crow isn’t going to find out. One night, one.” she whispered, eyes glimmering with an unfamiliar softness.

God, what you wouldn’t give for one night. The teasing, the pet names, the sleep overs… And it wouldn’t be rough, judging from the look in her eyes.

“Okay.” you breathed out.

Rose smiled, kissing your temple. You both stood, her hand in yours, bare feet padding across the dirt of the campground. Her trailer smelled of incense which meant she’d been meditating extensively, probably astral projecting to ensure the troop headed to Abra was okay. There were a few candles lit, adding to the ambience.

“Come here.” Rose whispered, shutting her camper door. 

Her arms found your waist, her mouth on your neck. She was so damn tall, and soft. Soft everywhere now that she was aging. You liked her soft, it was comforting.

“Lay down on the bed for me.” Rose whispered.

You complied, walking backwards, meeting her blue eyes. Your thighs hit the bed, and you scooted, backward, laying flat over her comforter. Her mouth was on yours, lips soft, tempting, and tongue flicking out to taste you throughout the kiss. After every kiss she’d give a soft hum, her fingers lazily slipping under your shirt to caress the skin underneath. Her fingers were soft, and she gave a sly grin, shifting her hips to straddle you further. Your arms tangled in her hair, enough to tempt her into removing the topper. She did, leaning further into the kiss. You would’ve thought someone like Rose wouldn’t like soft, wouldn’t find the moments of drawn out foreplay and intimacy worthwhile. You were wrong, so so wrong. Her mouth on your neck, her hands grasping you tight, bodies tangled like pretzels. This was right, this was the moment.

←→

An early morning call awoke Rose. It was from Walnut. She was on the phone for thirty seconds, and then her hands were wrapped around your waist. “Wake up, wake up!” Rose said, distressed. “Wha..”

Her hands were everywhere, lifting you up, throwing open the curtains to illuminate your body. She ran her hands over every inch, skimming every mark, every mole, every soft stretch mark. Rose didn’t relax until she was sure you didn’t have a single mark. 

“Oh, thank god.” Rose almost wept with relief, clutching you tight.

“Rose, what’s happened?” you asked, now wide awake and worried.

“The Knot has chickenpox. It killed Barry.”

Your body tensed. You’d never told Rose about the vision you’d had of Barry. “Chickenpox? Chickenpox can’t kill-”

“It doesn’t kill rubes. We aren’t rubes, Dreamie.” Rose growled out. “And if we don’t find a cure it’ll kill all of us.”

All of us? 

“Rose, I was vaccinated as a kid.”

Her expression tensed, and then relaxed. But then she frowned, a furious expression on her face.

“That’s because you’re young. Spoiled by modern medicine.” she spit.

You reached up, cupping her face. Rose was lashing out because she was scared, and upset. One of the Knot had died. Her family had died. You leaned forward, kissing her forehead. Rose didn’t cry, but she reached forward, cradling you tight.

“Thank god you’re vaccinated.” she whimpered.

←→

The Knot didn’t take Barry’s death well. There was a bit of hysteria, hysteria Rose struggled to calm. She leaned on you more and more, spending her nights tangled up with you in her sheets, an escape from her stress, from the hunger that was starting to claw at everyone’s throats. She had gray hairs again. Her crow’s feet were pronounced, skin starting to go scaly from sun damage. You didn’t love her any less, taking time to appreciate every bit of her changing body in between the bursts of passion. You aged too, turning from 17 to 21, almost 22. It wasn’t much of a difference, you were already quite young for a Knot member. But the hunger was awful.

“My joints ache, I’m going to take a shower.” Rose sighed, rolling out of bed.

She leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your sleepy face. You smiled, watching her pull on sweats and a shirt before grabbing some things. She meant the camp showers. They had a bit more space than her RV stall, you couldn’t blame her. The heat was more consistent too. You went back into a blissful sleep. It was broken fifteen minutes later when you heard a scream.

Half dressed in a pair of panties and an oversized shirt, you were running out of Rose’s trailer, bolting through the campsite in the direction of the scream. It was Rose, crumpled in Annie’s arms in front of the shower, sobbing in confusion and anger. Her towel was sagging.

“Rose, Rose.” you whispered, kneeling down and helping to cover her.

Her hands landed on your shoulders. An image burning forward. Gunshots, cycling, a smoke filled campsite.

“They’re dead. Everyone is fucking dead.” she sobbed.

You’d made it to the steps of her trailer before she collapsed against the steps, wailing like the dying.

“Crow!”

An image flashed through your mind, fear and pain as the vertebrae of your neck compressed, body flying through the windshield. Everyone had died, just as you’d predicted. Rose hadn’t listened.

←→

“That the last of it?” Annie asked, out of breath.

“Yeah, just two boxes.”

You were busy packing your things into Annie’s and Diesel Doug’s truck. In the days following the death of eight of the most prominent True Knot members, chaos had erupted. People packing their bags, convinced death was on their doorstep. The chickenpox was taking someone every other day now. Everyone was running, everyone was fleeing. You were leaving for a different reason, more personal. Rose had lashed out at you, blaming the entire loss of the crew on you. Rose insisted that if she had known that the visions were serious she would’ve called back the team. Your visions were serious, she just hadn’t listened. More fighting, more name calling, more discord. 

“I’m sorry Rose treated you that way.” Doug sighed, shifting the car in gear. “We’re all grieving, but treating you that way was a shitty thing to do.”

You nodded once, sneaking a glance in the rearview. Rose stood in front of her trailer, arms crossed, top hat balanced on her head. You could feel her thousand yard stare from here.

“You’re gonna die out there, Dreamie.” you heard a voice crawl through your ear, invasive and almost wet feeling.

“Well at least I won’t die alone.”

A phantom sensation cracked through the bones of your face, like you’d been slapped. You let out a choked cough, catching Annie’s attention. 

“I’m fine, choked on my own spit.” you mumbled.

“Bitch.”

You didn’t get a response. You figured she was saving the last laugh for later.

The drive into the Montana mountains was rough. Snow was starting to fall.

“You had to take the Denver route?” Annie groaned. 

“Who the fuck goes through the rockies at this time of year? It would take days!” Doug growled.

They were both irritable, both covered in red spots. You were in denial this time. If they died you really would be alone. Maybe that was Rose’s last laugh. The three of you settled into the hotel, Doug and Annie in a king bed, you in a twin pullout. Everything was quiet. Too quiet. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen, and you sure as hell couldn’t sleep. An overcoat on, boots crunching through the gravel, you set out to explore the area around the hotel. 

You felt a bit dizzy, probably from the altitude. Sitting on a boulder for a bit didn’t help, deep breaths of cool mountain air just made you feel sicker. Your ears began to ring, and that’s when it all added up. You were ready to brace yourself when-

“My, my. What a temper you have.”

You were speaking through Rose, a man’s flushed, pained face underneath her as Rose batted away his arms like he was nothing but an overgrown toddler.

“So much fire. Such a waste.”

You could feel Rose’s anger, her hatred for this man. You recognized him, he’d shot a few of the True Knot at the Teeny Town campsite. And his stare was so familiar.

“Or maybe not.”

It was horrific, this vision. You could feel everything Rose was doing, her sighs of delight as she ate the man’s steam, her thumb in his thigh. Rose was cruel, but this cruelty made your stomach churn in knots. 

“Oh, you’re not alone in there.” Rose breathlessly gasped. “What are you hiding? What’s in those?! Something special, huh?!”

That disgusting, inescapable feeling of dread clawed through you. It was impossible to speak in visions, but you wanted to. You wanted to scream. You could see the boxes as she saw them, alive and vibrating. They were full of darkness, and in Rose’s haste she wasn’t inspecting the aura, she was ravenous for food, for blood.

“They’re not special. They’re starving.”

The vision was a blur from there. Horror, fear, pain as Rose was eaten alive. You awoke on the ground of the hotel reception room, gasping for air and shaking.

“She has these seizures, poor dear.” Annie was tiredly explaining to the frightened hotel receptionist.

You didn’t let them give you juice. You didn’t let them feed you. There wasn’t time.

“I need the car.” you gasped to Diesel Doug. “Stay here.”

←→

The drive up into the mountains of Colorado was awful. You’d been taught to drive in the snow three years earlier by Jimmy Numbers, but this was something else. You’d loaded up Diesel’s trusty all wheel drive truck up with gas at the final station, filling up both tanks with diesel. You were driving up the mountains at night, hands glued to the wheel. Rose would be proud of you, pinpointing the location of the vision through memory alone. But this wasn’t about being proud.

The lights of the Overlook were on. You didn’t have time. Rose’s trailer was parked outside, you didn’t have time! You turned off the car, leaving the keys in the ignition, doors unlocked. It was so cold up here, one of the doors was frozen shut. You didn’t have time to break through the door, so you made the next best decision, breaking through a window with an axe. It was boarded up but the wood had rotted, giving you enough bend to punch through the wood with the butt of the axe. There were voices, not from people. The same darkness of the man’s boxes lingered here, and the whispers added more adrenaline to your movements. The hallways were mazes. It felt like this stupid hotel was trying to confuse you, to trap you here. It wanted blood, it knew you were hindering its meal.

“... I seem to have nicked your femoral artery. Gonna bleed to death, huh?”

You knew that voice. Well. A kid darted by you. Jet black hair, dark skin. Abra.

“You’re…” she stammered, backing away.

“I’m not here for you. Go.” you snapped at the little girl.

You turned, following the direction she’d come from. A large hall came into view, stairs descending downwards. Rose was crouched over the man, voice echoing. You attempted to step down the stairs, but there was some kind of force keeping you there, confusing you. Why did you even want to go down there in the first place? No, you were here for the little girl, weren’t you? Because you’re hungry. The woman at the bottom of the stairs is hungry too. You can’t let her catch the girl before you do, you’ll go hungry.

There was something you were forgetting. You looked down at the woman below you, confused. She was gasping in pleasure, feasting. You were so hungry too. You saw where the little girl had gone too. You knew where she was. No. No, the woman was important. You could feel it, an unmistakable, annoying little scratch in your brain. You were close to remembering something, almost like you were trying to remember a dream.

Dream! No. No. Dreaming? Day dreaming? Dream… Dreammmmmm……. 

Dreamie. Rose, the vision, the hotel. The tricks of the hallways, the bad aura. It all connected in your brain.

“.... Not special. They’re starvi-”

“NO!”

In your haste to get to Rose, you have walked, half slid down the stairs. There were about ten figures between you and Rose. All reaching all starving, all grabbing, all-

“The girl is in the maze.” you gasped. “She has more steam than all of us combined.”

The figures jerked, each turning to look at you with a peculiar, inhuman hunger. If the Knot were vampires, these were phantoms. Demons of the night, more deadly, more encompassing. The kind of dead that don’t stay dead.

“The maze. A girl named Abra.” I gasped.

They pushed forward at once, nearly stampeding you in their haste to eat. The man was heaving, reaching for the ax. You kicked him in the ribs, hard. Rose lay on the ground, crumpling in on herself, red dots crawling up her arms in accelerated fashion. The dead had taken much of her steam.

“Rose, Rosie.” you gasped, reaching for her.

She looked skeletal. It was the kind of skeletal that a True Knot took on before they started cycling.

“Steam.” she  weakly pointed to the man.

And you both were starving.

←→

Rose sat in a camp chair outside, feet propped up. She was soft looking, back to the usual look she got in between feedings.

“Mmm…” she hummed, twitching slightly.

“Crook in your neck?” you asked.

“More like an itch.”

She looked up, holding her arms out. 

“Let me see my beautiful girl, hmm?”

You smiled, curling in her lap. Tilting her head back, she exposed her jaw. You took the bait, nibbling softly as she sighed in contentment.

“I’m itching to open a canister.” Rose smirked. “Get nice and full, spend the night in the sand…”

She was getting old again. And the spots were coming back.

“Rose, can we try the siphoning method?”

She rolled her eyes.

“The pox spots only show up when I haven’t eaten. They go away once I’m full.”

You leaned in, nuzzling your nose against hers.

“It can’t hurt to try.”

Rose sighed, and then nodded. You both arose, walking into her trailer. She took out one of the canisters. You’d filled it with the spirit of the Overlook twins after they’d fed from Abra. It was easy enough, coaxing out the spirits. They’d gorged themselves on the little girl, ripped her to shreds, practically. Open up a canister that had a tiny bit of steam, and they’d pounce, only to be sucked inside with the vapors of steam. That’s all these spirits were, after all. Steam with a bit of bite. They tasted good, too.

“Alright, do you want to do the ritual?” Rose asked.

“You’re Irish is better than mine.” you smiled softly.

She nodded, holding your hands in hers.

“Meabhair, suaite, gortú” We are the chosen ones.

“Wounder rúnda, gortú” We are the fortunate ones

“I ngach slí gortaithe” We are the True Knot and we endure. What is tied can never be untied.

You took deep breaths of the steam in, filling your lungs with the haunted essence of the twin girls. Once the entire can was bubbling in your body, you reached forward, breathing the steam that had now become your essence into Rose’s awaiting mouth. In theory, you were breathing your own essence down her throat. Your vaccinated essence.

Her lips found yours once you were done, her hands tangled in your hair as she kissed you hard. She tasted like the blackberry mojitos you’d made an hour ago, tongue rolling over yours.

“I love being alive with you.” Rose moaned, half pulling, half dragging you out of the trailer. She was young again, twenty seven, shimmering and panting with desire.

“Rose!” you giggled.

Her hands ran under your skirt, grabbing your thighs mischievously.

“It is broad daylight.” you snickered.

“And I don’t see anyone around, do you?”

She took an inhale of your hair, catching a whiff of an aura hanging over your head.

“Dreamie, no seizures.” Rose playfully warned.

“Shh. It could be a Big One.” you winked.

It was a new year’s celebration, anyway. A new year, a new decade. Twenty-twenty. Something about those numbers screamed food, or more so, misery. But for the True Knot, misery was food, death and destruction was food.

Tag List: @bjoerkumlaut, @lovelyy-moonlight, @coffee-is-my-oxygen, @appparadox407, @ilovehotactresses, @marvelwomenrule

[marsplastic13]

'Complicated' (part 20) - Kaz Brekker x reader

Idea - Kaz Brekker hires a prostitute to overcome his touch aversion, and be a better man for Inej, but things take an unxepected turn. Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Prostitute!Reader, (had to use y/n because I'm bad at names) Genre: modern AU, slow burn word count: 5.8k notes: HI EVERYONE! I know I got a bit lost with this story but at some point I felt that we all forgot about it, but some people asked me to continue and I found the time to finish it!! Thank you so much for every interaction in the past months <3

@millercontracting @coldmermaidhologram @syd649

@luffysprincess @cryptidghostgirl @beekeepingageissome

@hufflepuff-16 @lukepattersin @jay-is-a-pinguin @le-clair-de-lune @theravenphoenix26

“Do we really have to do this?” Kaz murmured, still with his eyes closed. His face was buried in her cleavage, where he had slept for the previous hours, inhaling the scent of her cherry-scented body oil.

“Yes,” Y/N laughed at his sleepy voice. “We invited everybody; they will be here in a few hours.”

“Then I can sleep some more.”

The past night, Kaz had been called for an urgent job that went on from 1 am for approximately twelve hours. When he finally got home, he just collapsed in Y/N's arms and was still there, not even changing out of his clothes.

“We have to get things ready,” reminded Y/N, who was starting to get annoyed at being used as a pillow.

“We are the ones that got engaged; they should throw the party for us,” he protested weakly. They invited both of their friend groups over after months of keeping them accurately separated. Kaz felt that disaster was around the corner.

“Sure, baby. But since it's not like that, we have to get up.”

“Nina asked me if she needs to bring something,” he remembered, refusing to move while Y/N tried to shove him away.

“A new liver,” she replied confidently. “Come on, let me get up. I can't feel my arms anymore.”

“How long did I sleep?” he asked, finally moving away.

“Almost four hours,” Y/N stretched her arms, getting up.

“Not enough. You can set up everything alone, right? You're such a strong, independent woman; you don't need me.” Kaz smirked into the pillow, trying to get to sleep again.

He heard Y/N sighing annoyed, “If you're not up in five minutes, I'll test if your PS5 is waterproof.”

“You wouldn't,” he replied with a hint of concern.

“Who knows?” she teased, her voice carrying a mix of amusement and threat.

Kaz groaned, rolling onto his back. “Fine, fine. I’m up.”

Y/N smiled victoriously, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “Thank you, love. Now, let’s get this party ready.” 

Kaz dramatically got up, dragging his feet and leaning on the kitchen door. He watched Y/N as she bustled around, setting things up. She was already in full party-prep mode, her movements efficient and determined.

“So, is Inej coming?” she asked without looking at him, her voice casual but carrying an undertone of curiosity.

Kaz sighed, replaying his last conversation with Inej. The memory was a fresh wound, his words echoing in his mind. He cursed himself once more for the terrible choice of words he had used to break the news to her. His words always seemed to fail him in front of her.

The memory of her eyes lighting up when he told her that Y/N wasn’t his girlfriend anymore still haunted him. He had realized immediately the poor choice of phrasing and corrected himself, saying they were engaged. But the damage was done. A veil of hurt had passed over her eyes, even though she had quickly masked it with a small smile and said she was happy for them. 

“She stayed vague, but I don't think she's coming,” Kaz replied, trying to keep his voice even, though the regret lingered in his tone.

Y/N hummed in acknowledgment, not letting any real reaction transpire. She continued setting up, but Kaz could tell she was processing his words

“My friends are coming over like 30 minutes before yours,” Y/N said, handing Kaz bottle after bottle to set on the table.

“Why?” he asked, puzzled as he arranged the drinks.

“To be already tipsy when your friends arrive and because we haven't seen each other in ages,” she replied with a casual shrug.

“You had dinner together last night,” he pointed out.

“We were used to sharing the shower. Yesterday is ages,” she quipped back with a mischievous grin.

Kaz sighed, a sense of impending doom washing over him. Whenever he was left alone with her friends, there was always at least one who hit on him, just to see him panic. He could already imagine the teasing and the sly comments that would ensue.

“Have you decided what to wear yet?” he asked, trying to shift his focus and curious about her choice. She had been bugging him about it for days, seeking his opinion on various outfits.

“Yes, my engagement ring,” Y/N said with a grin, turning to look at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Kaz shot her an unamused glare. “Y/N,” he said, trying to sound stern but failing miserably.

“All this time and you’re still terrified of me,” she cooed, getting closer to mess with his already messy bed-hair.

“Yes,” he chuckled, a sense of warmth spreading through him despite the playful banter.

Kaz was finishing getting ready when he heard the noise of Y/N's friends entering their house, already screaming excitedly. He took a deep breath, bracing himself for the onslaught. It was a relatively small gathering, just the two of them, Y/N’s ex-roommates, Nina and Matthias, and Jesper and Wylan. They had decided to keep the engagement news between themselves and a few close friends for as long as they could manage.

With a heavy sigh, Kaz reached the kitchen where the girls were already taking shots. The moment they saw him, the screaming intensified. At least they had stopped trying to hug him after one particularly memorable time when all three of them launched themselves at him to greet him, and he had almost had a heart attack on the spot.

“Finally, we thought you were hiding from us,” one of them teased.

“I was,” Kaz nodded, taking a shot from Y/N's hand.

“I want you at your best behavior tonight, please,” Y/N said, locking eyes with each of her friends, her tone half-serious, half-playful. “This party has to end with me and Nina as best friends.”

“Best friends?” Kaz raised a brow, a hint of skepticism in his voice.

“At least friends,” Y/N conceded more realistically, “I like her when she forgets about my job and actually talks to me.”

Kaz pulled her closer, pressing her back against his chest. “You’ll be fine,” he murmured in her ear, his voice a comforting rumble.

He knew that she cared about his friends’ opinions, and considering they had definitely gotten off on the wrong foot, Y/N was trying to fix what was fixable. The tension between her and Nina, in particular, had been a point of stress. Kaz admired her determination to bridge the gap, to make amends and build a positive rapport with the people who mattered to him.

His friends arrived all together, and Y/N’s friends quickly pulled them into a chaotic mix of introductions and distributing drinks. The room buzzed with energy as everyone settled in.

“Nina, I love your dress! You look stunning!” Kaz heard Y/N’s enthusiastic voice cutting through the noise.

“Thanks, I bought it saving lives,” replied Nina, her tone matter-of-fact.

Kaz turned to see Y/N's enthusiasm dial down a notch, but she nodded and smiled anyway. “What can I get you to drink? I got that white wine you said you liked.”

If Nina was surprised by her unusual politeness, she didn't show it. “Wine is perfect.”

Kaz released a breath. Maybe it wouldn’t be a total disaster after all.

Music blasted through the speakers, drinks flowed freely. Kaz chatted with Matthias, the only two who managed to avoid being dragged onto the dance floor. Something felt off, though. There was an uneasy sensation in the back of his mind.

“Y/N,” Kaz called his fiancée from the improvised dance floor. She smiled and stumbled toward him, sitting on his lap and taking a sip from his glass, making a face of disgust.

“You don’t like it?” he laughed.

“Only on your lips,” she said, tapping his nose playfully.

“Y/N, where are the neighbors?” Kaz asked, his worried look betraying his concern. She had said she would handle them.

“Who?”

“Y/N, the neighbors.”

Y/N’s lips spread into a wide grin.

“Oh Ghezen, what have you done?” his concern deepened.

“Nothing! I went to politely invite them and they politely refused.”

“And?”

“And nothing, I politely brought them brownies,” she said with a small laugh, avoiding his gaze.

“When did you make brownies?” he raised a brow.

“Grandma’s brownies,” she specified in a guilty whisper.

Kaz’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You gave them edibles? You drugged our neighbors?”

“Drugged is such a strong word, Kaz! They’re just going to get a good night of sleep.” She shrugged, tracing her lips.

“I can’t believe this.” Kaz shook his head, half-amused, half-exasperated. “I didn’t even have time to try them.”

“Oh, so that’s the problem,” she laughed, clearly amused.

Kaz chuckled, pulling her closer.

***

One year later

Kaz was at home, deeply engrossed in the mundane task of emptying boxes from the recent move. After he and Y/N had gotten engaged, the topic of buying a house had come up often, but they kept pushing it off. That was until they stumbled upon a beautiful attic apartment with a spacious terrace. It hadn’t required much discussion—they simply knew it was the one. Without hesitation, they bought it, and now here they were, trying to make it their own.

As Kaz hung up clothes in their shared closet, Cinnamon, their energetic dog, dashed around the house, still exploring the new territory. Though they had moved in a few days earlier, Cinnamon’s excitement hadn’t worn off. Every corner still seemed like a new adventure.

Suddenly, Kaz heard Cinnamon’s barks grow more enthusiastic. The dog darted to the front door, her little paws scratching at the wood in a frenzy of joy. Kaz paused, listening closely, and sure enough, moments later, the door creaked open.

Y/N’s laughter filled the hallway as she greeted Cinnamon, who was practically vibrating with excitement. It was as if they hadn’t seen each other in years. Kaz smiled to himself, shaking his head as he grabbed his cane and made his way out to join them.

When Y/N spotted him, her grin widened even more. She dropped her purse onto the floor, not bothering to properly put it down, and rushed toward him. Without a word, she wrapped her arms tightly around him, pressing her body close to his.

“What’s all this enthusiasm about?” Kaz asked, his voice tinged with amusement as he returned her embrace, holding her close.

Y/N pulled back slightly, her eyes sparkling with something he couldn’t quite place yet. She fidgeted with her engagement ring, a familiar habit of hers when she was excited or nervous. “I’m done,” she said, her voice soft but full of meaning.

Kaz blinked, not quite understanding. “You’re done?”

“I’m retiring,” she said, her bright smile making her words even more surreal.

“You—what?” Kaz’s eyes widened in disbelief, the words not fully sinking in. “Are you sure?”

Y/N nodded, her smile only growing. She took his hands in hers, squeezing them gently. “Yes, I’m sure. I told my roommates earlier today. It was my last day.”

Kaz stood there, his mind racing as he processed her words. “Are you saying that—”

“We are getting married, love,” she whispered, cutting him off gently before pulling him into a long, tender kiss. 

***

Three years later

Kaz sat quietly in a corner, sipping his drink and trying to block out the noise of the children running around. The party was in full swing, filled with laughter, and the chaos of kids playing. It had become a common scene lately—ever since Nina and Matthias started having kids, it seemed like the gatherings always revolved around their growing family. They were already on their third child, and rumors were flying that Nina might already be pregnant again.

This time, it was one of their children’s birthdays, and everyone had gathered for the occasion. From his point, Kaz watched Y/N sitting cross-legged on the carpet, entertaining the birthday girl with a stuffed animal. The little girl’s delighted laughter filled the room, and Y/N’s face was lit up with a warm smile. It was a familiar scene; Y/N was always so good with children, her natural ease with them undeniable.

Jesper, appearing from nowhere, slid into the seat next to Kaz, grinning. “So? When are you going to pop out a little Brekker?” he asked, elbowing Kaz playfully. “You’ve been married for years now.”

Kaz took another sip, shrugging, trying to play it off. “We’re still thinking about it,” he replied, his tone deliberately nonchalant.

Jesper nodded toward Y/N, who was now lifting the birthday girl into her lap, spinning her around while the child giggled uncontrollably. “Look at her, man. She’s great with kids. You have to give up and have one already.”

Kaz’s lips pressed into a thin line as he muttered, “We’ll see.”

But the truth was, they’d been trying. They’d started trying for a baby not long after Y/N had left her job, both of them quietly optimistic. At first, they brushed off the lack of success, chalking it up to stress from wedding planning and the whirlwind of their new life together. But after months of no results—no pregnancy scares, no missed periods—they couldn’t ignore it anymore. Each month, Y/N’s cycle came right on schedule, a reminder of the growing distance between them and their hopes of starting a family.

Eventually, they had faced the possibility that something was wrong. It took time, and a lot of courage, but they finally decided to see a doctor. They sat in the sterile office, hands tightly clasped together, waiting for answers. And then the doctor’s words hit like a punch to the gut. 

It wasn’t that they couldn’t have kids— they could, just not with each other. Kaz’s sperm quality wasn’t optimal, and Y/N’s body, while healthy, wasn’t responding in a way that made pregnancy likely for them. The doctor had explained that Y/N might get pregnant if Kaz had healthier sperm, and that Kaz might be able to father children with another woman. But together? Their chances were close to non-existent.

The devastation was immediate. Right outside the doctor’s office, Y/N had broken down in his arms, her sobs heavy with disappointment and grief. Kaz held her as tightly as he could, his own heart breaking alongside hers, but he tried to soothe her the best he could. “We still have options,” he had whispered into her hair, “We’re young. There’s always adoption.”

But as the days passed, and they talked long into the nights, Y/N made a difficult decision. She wasn’t willing to go through the physical and emotional toll of IVF with such slim chances. The process was too invasive, the odds too low, and they both feared the heartbreak of trying and failing. It was a decision made out of love and self-preservation, one they agreed on, but it didn’t make it any less painful.

Over time, they learned to move past the sadness. They embraced their childless life, filling it with things they loved—spontaneous weekend trips, lazy mornings in bed, late-night adventures, and the freedom to live on their own terms. The pain still lingered beneath the surface, but they found solace in each other and in the life they were building, even if it wasn’t the one they had originally imagined.

They hadn’t shared the full story with their friends. It was still too raw, too personal. But for now, they were comfortable in their decision, finding joy in the quiet moments they shared. Watching Y/N laugh with the children at the party tugged at something in Kaz’s chest, but it wasn’t the same aching sorrow it once was. It was softer now, a bittersweet acceptance of what was and what could never be.

***

Fifteen years later

Kaz was pacing back and forth in the living room, his mind racing as he glanced at the clock. Y/N was late. She should've been home by now. He had called her a dozen times, but each attempt went straight to voicemail. Every unanswered ring only deepened his worry, a knot forming in his stomach. He didn’t like this—something felt wrong.

Finally, on what must have been the fifteenth call, someone answered.

"Love, where are you? I'm—" Kaz started, but a man's voice cut him off on the other end of the line.

"Mr. Brekker?" The unfamiliar voice made Kaz freeze.

"Y-yes?" Kaz’s heart began to pound, a creeping sense of dread overtaking him.

"Mr. Brekker, your wife was involved in a serious accident. She's currently in surgery at St. Vaska’s Hospital. You should come immediately."

For a moment, Kaz stood frozen in place, his mind reeling. The world around him seemed to blur, his thoughts racing ahead, but the urgency in the man’s voice brought him back to the moment. Without hesitation, he grabbed his keys and flew out of the apartment, leaving everything behind.

The drive to the hospital was a blur. Kaz’s mind was eerily blank, functioning only on autopilot. His hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white, but his thoughts refused to settle on anything concrete. Every second felt agonizing, like he was teetering on the edge of something he couldn’t control.

When he finally arrived at the hospital, the sterile lights and hurried movements of the staff did nothing to ease his anxiety. They guided him to a waiting room near the surgery wing, telling him it would be some time before Y/N was out of surgery. He sat down, but sitting felt impossible. He stood, then paced, then sat again—repeating the same motions over and over, trying to keep his fear at bay. Hours passed, each minute dragging on like an eternity.

He considered calling Alice a few times, but quickly dismissed the idea. She was already dealing with her own health issues, and the last thing she needed was added worry. Besides, he wasn’t even sure what to say. He couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge the worst-case scenario.

Finally, a doctor approached him, and Kaz felt his chest tighten.

"Mr. Brekker?" the doctor said, offering a tired but reassuring smile. "Your wife is out of surgery. You can relax; she's going to be okay. Both your wife and the baby are safe."

Kaz blinked, his mind struggling to process the doctor's words. "The baby?" he repeated, his voice thick with disbelief.

The doctor chuckled lightly. "Yes, your baby. Your wife is almost four months pregnant, Mr. Brekker. You didn’t know?"

Kaz stood there, too stunned to respond. His brain tried to catch up with what the doctor had just said. Pregnant? They had stopped even considering the possibility ages ago. After all the failed attempts and the devastating news from the doctors, they had made peace with the idea of not having children. They’d grown to love their life as it was—just the two of them.

Before he could ask more questions, the doors opened, and they wheeled Y/N into the recovery room. She was still unconscious, her face pale, bruised, and covered in bandages, but she was alive. Kaz rushed to her side, his hand instinctively reaching for hers. He pushed a few strands of hair away from her face, his touch gentle, almost reverent. Despite the injuries, despite the bandages, she was safe. 

And pregnant.

He sat down beside her, staring at her peaceful face, barely able to process what was happening. He thought about the past years, how they’d thrown themselves into their lives, embracing the freedom that came with being childless. They had taken trips, stayed out late, and enjoyed their spontaneous lifestyle. But now, out of nowhere, they were going to be parents.

Kaz couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. His mind replayed moments from the past few months. Y/N had put on a little weight, but he had thought it was due to her finally being at peace with her body. After battling eating disorders for so many years, she had been making such great progress. She looked healthy and radiant, better than ever. It hadn’t even crossed their minds that she might be pregnant.

He leaned down, placing a soft kiss on her forehead, the feeling of relief finally settling in. He whispered quietly, almost to himself, “We’re going to be okay.” 

Hours had passed, and Kaz hadn’t moved from Y/N's side. He watched the steady rise and fall of her chest, the quiet beeps of the machines providing a strange comfort in the otherwise sterile room. He had been holding her hand, his thumb absentmindedly brushing against her skin, as though the constant touch would somehow anchor them both to reality. His mind was still spinning with everything the doctor had told him. 

Pregnant. It was surreal.

He had no idea how to feel, and that uncertainty gnawed at him. There was joy, yes, but also fear. 

Finally, Y/N stirred. Kaz sat up straighter, watching as her eyes fluttered open, slow and groggy. She blinked a few times, clearly disoriented, her gaze taking in the room before settling on him. A soft, weak smile curved her lips, but Kaz could see the pain lurking behind her eyes.

“Hey,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from disuse.

“Hey,” Kaz replied, leaning closer. His voice was softer than usual, an edge of worry still lingering. “How do you feel?”

“Not good,” she tried to make a weak smile, but winced as she shifted slightly in the bed. “What happened? The last thing I remember is—" She paused, her brow furrowing as she tried to piece the fragments together.

“There was an accident,” Kaz said, his tone steady despite the turmoil still swirling inside him. “But you’re okay now. You’re safe.”

Y/N exhaled a shaky breath, her body relaxing just a little. She squeezed his hand, her touch reassuring, but her eyes still searched his face, sensing that something else was going on.

“There’s… something you need to know,” Kaz started, his heart beating a little faster. He wasn’t sure how to tell her, how to put this kind of news into words. “The doctors found something when they were treating you.”

Her eyes widened in alarm, panic flashing in them. “Is it bad? Am I—?”

“No, no,” Kaz quickly reassured her, his hand tightening around hers. “It’s not bad. It’s just… unexpected.” He took a deep breath, meeting her eyes with a mix of awe and disbelief. “You’re pregnant.”

Y/N stared at him, her eyes going wide, her lips parting in shock. “What?”

“The doctor said you’re almost four months along,” Kaz continued, his voice softer now, gentler. “You didn’t know.”

Y/N’s hand instinctively went to her stomach, her fingers pressing against the fabric of her hospital gown. “Pregnant?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. Her gaze drifted down as if she was trying to comprehend this new reality, as if her body suddenly felt different to her.

Kaz nodded, watching her closely, unsure of how she would react. Her expression was a mixture of shock, disbelief, and something else—something softer, something that mirrored the feeling stirring inside him.

“I didn’t even realize…” she murmured, her voice trailing off as her fingers gently traced her stomach. “I thought we couldn’t—” She stopped herself, her eyes filling with tears.

Kaz leaned forward, his forehead almost touching hers. “I know,” he said quietly. “That’s what they said.”

For a moment, they both sat there, stunned by the realization that after all the heartbreak, after everything they had been through, the thing they had given up on was happening.

Tears slipped down Y/N’s cheeks, but her smile was radiant, brighter than Kaz had ever seen. She laughed softly, almost in disbelief. “A baby?”

Kaz let out a breath and nodded. “A baby,” he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N’s laughter turned into a soft sob, and Kaz gently wiped away her tears with his thumb. She was overwhelmed, but the happiness in her eyes was unmistakable. She reached for him, pulling him into a gentle, tender kiss. 

Y/N’s laugh was soft, though tinged with disbelief. “Aren’t we a bit old for a baby?” she teased, the humor in her voice doing little to mask the shock she was still processing.

Kaz chuckled, though his own shock was evident as well. “Well, apparently not,” he replied, his hand gently squeezing hers. The room felt lighter, despite the weight of the news they had just received.

Just then, a nurse entered the room, clipboard in hand. She had a gentle, reassuring smile, but her expression shifted when she saw the mix of emotions on their faces—tears glistening in Y/N’s eyes, Kaz looking more vulnerable than usual. 

“Is everything okay?” the nurse asked, her tone soft and careful.

Y/N looked up at her, her voice shaky but filled with hope. “Is it true? Am I really pregnant?” she asked, her hand instinctively resting on her abdomen as if she were trying to feel the truth for herself.

The nurse’s smile widened. “You didn’t know?” she asked, surprised. “I thought for sure you’d have noticed some signs by now.”

Y/N shook her head, a soft laugh escaping her lips. “We had no idea,” she admitted, glancing at Kaz, who nodded in agreement, still processing the enormity of it all.

“Well, congratulations! You’re a little over four months along,” the nurse confirmed, her eyes bright as she shared the news.

Four months meant they had been oblivious for nearly half the pregnancy. The shock of it was almost comical, though neither of them could laugh just yet. 

“Wait a second,” the nurse said, setting down her clipboard. “I’ll be right back.” She left the room quickly, leaving them in a quiet moment of stunned silence.

Kaz couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief. He moved closer to the bed, leaning down to kiss Y/N’s forehead. “You really didn’t feel anything?” he asked softly.

“I thought I was just getting soft,” Y/N joked with a small smile, her hand still resting protectively on her belly. “I didn’t want to fall back into those old habits,” she admitted, her voice softening. “So, when I noticed the weight gain, I didn’t let myself obsess over it. I thought it was a good thing—proof that I was healing.”

Kaz reached out, his fingers brushing her cheek. “You are healing,” he said firmly. 

Before they could say much more, the nurse returned, wheeling in a portable ultrasound machine. “I thought you might want to see your little one,” she said warmly, setting it up beside the bed.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. Kaz was already at her side, holding her hand as the nurse prepped her for the ultrasound. The cool gel was applied to Y/N’s belly, and the nurse moved the probe gently across her skin.

“Ready?” the nurse asked, glancing at them with a smile.

“Yeah,” Y/N whispered, gripping Kaz’s hand a little tighter. Kaz gave her a reassuring squeeze, his eyes fixed on the screen.

The room was quiet for a moment, the only sound being the soft whir of the machine. Then, suddenly, the screen flickered to life, revealing the unmistakable image of their baby. The soft, rhythmic sound of the heartbeat filled the room, steady and strong.

Y/N gasped, her free hand flying to her mouth. Tears welled up in her eyes as she stared at the screen. “That’s... that’s our baby,” she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion.

Kaz was speechless, his gaze locked on the tiny, fluttering heartbeat. He’d been through countless challenges in his life, but this—this was something entirely different. Something he never imagined he’d experience.

“There they are,” the nurse said, her voice soft, pointing to the screen. “Your baby looks perfect.”

Y/N let out a soft sob, overwhelmed with emotion. Kaz bent down to kiss her forehead again, his own eyes misting with unshed tears.

“I can’t believe it,” Y/N whispered, her voice full of wonder. “We’re going to be parents.”

Kaz nodded, his throat tight with emotion. He could hardly believe it himself, but there it was, right in front of him—proof that life had a way of surprising you, no matter how much you thought you had things figured out.

The nurse smiled at them both, clearly moved by the moment. “I’ll print out some pictures for you to take home,” she said, quietly excusing herself to give them a moment alone.

Once she left, the room fell into a quiet, reverent hush. Y/N stared at the screen, her fingers tracing the faint outline of the baby that would soon become their whole world. Kaz, still gripping her hand, couldn’t help but smile—an uncharacteristically soft, genuine smile.

“We really did it,” Y/N said, laughing through her tears.

Kaz nodded, his heart full. “Yeah,” he whispered, “we really did.”

They sat in silence, just watching the screen, watching their baby. Neither of them needed to say anything—words would never be enough to capture what they were feeling in that moment. 

***

As Y/N and Kaz gathered their closest friends for dinner, a blend of excitement and anxiety hung in the air. After years of hiding their struggles with fertility, they knew it was time to share the truth. Jesper, Nina, Wylan, and Matthias filled the cozy home with chatter, oblivious to the weight of the moment ahead.

Kaz glanced at Y/N, her hand resting on her growing belly, and they exchanged a knowing look. It was time.

“Alright, everyone,” Kaz began, his voice steady yet tinged with nerves as he cleared his throat. “We wanted to share something important with you all tonight.”

Nina looked up, her curiosity piqued. “What’s going on?”

Kaz hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of the words he was about to say. 

He took a deep breath, preparing to lay bare their past struggles. “Shortly after our wedding, we were told by doctors that we likely wouldn’t be able to have children.”

The room fell silent, the laughter fading as the weight of Kaz’s revelation settled over them. Jesper’s smile faltered, replaced by a look of disbelief. “Wait, what? You were told that?”

Nina’s eyes widened, and she reached for Y/N’s hand. “How did you keep this from us for so long?”

Y/N felt the tears prick at her eyes as she spoke. “We didn’t want to burden you all with that. We thought we could just move on and accept it.”

Matthias furrowed his brow, processing the information. “That’s… a long time to carry that alone.”

Kaz nodded, a wave of emotion washing over him. “We found our ways to cope, with time we accepted it.”

“But then something unexpected happened,” Y/N said, her voice gaining strength. 

Kaz felt the excitement building within him, ready to share the twist in their story. “And now… Y/N is pregnant.”

A stunned silence filled the room, and it was as if the air had been sucked out of it. Jesper blinked in disbelief. “Wait, are you serious? After everything you just said?”

“Yes, actually pregnant,” Y/N confirmed, laughter mingling with tears as she wiped her eyes. “Almost six months.”

Nina was the first to recover, her eyes sparkling with joy as she rushed over to hug Y/N tightly. “Oh Saints! This is incredible! How did you keep this a secret?”

“We were still processing it ourselves,” Y/N chuckled, overwhelmed by the wave of love surrounding her. “We didn’t want to share anything until we were sure everything was going fine.”

Matthias, who had remained silent, stepped forward, his expression a mix of happiness and shock. “This is unbelievable. I can’t believe you went through that all those years and now… you’re having a baby?”

Kaz nodded, feeling a smile stretch across his face. “We really had no hope left.”

Jesper’s eyes darted between Kaz and Y/N, his mind racing. “That’s mind-blowing!”

“Right?” Y/N beamed, her heart swelling as she felt the support of her friends. “It’s been a rollercoaster, but we’re ready, kinda.”

Wylan grinned, his eyes bright with excitement. “Have you thought about names yet?”

Kaz chuckled, shaking his head. “We’ve barely wrapped our heads around the fact that we’re going to be parents!”

As the conversation flowed, filled with laughter and joyful exclamations about the future, Y/N and Kaz exchanged relieved smiles. They had faced their fears, shared their long-held secret, and were met with nothing but love and support from their friends.

***

Baby fever hit Kaz and Y/N like a whirlwind, consuming their every thought and action. The moment they discovered they were having a girl, they could hardly contain their excitement. Eager to share the news, they rushed to the hospital to find Alice, who had been recovering from her health issues. 

The atmosphere in the hospital was bright and sterile, but the excitement that radiated from Y/N and Kaz infused it with warmth. As they approached Alice's room, they could already hear her familiar, comforting laughter echoing down the corridor. 

When they entered, Alice looked up from her bed, her face lighting up with joy. “Oh hi! Look at you all smiling” she exclaimed, adjusting her glasses and beaming at them. 

“We have news!” Y/N blurted out, her eyes sparkling. 

“What is it?” Alice leaned forward, her curiosity piqued.

“We’re having a girl!” Kaz said, his voice thick with emotion. 

Alice’s eyes widened in surprise and delight. “A girl? Oh, that’s wonderful! Are you thinking about names?”

With shared glances filled with affection, Y/N replied, “We’ve decided to call her Miracle.”

Alice erupted in laughter, her joy echoing in the room. “Miracle? Are you kidding me?” 

Kaz and Y/N shared a confused look, “Why? Is it-”

“I get that it’s a miracle that you were able to have a baby, but you can’t be serious, come on! Miracle! I can’t believe you two.”

Alice laughed so much at them that they left the hospital still with flushed faces.They went straight to the nearest bookstore, bursting through the door with the shared mission of finding the perfect baby name book. 

***

On the day they finally held their baby girl for the first time, emotions surged through them. Y/N cradled the tiny bundle in her arms, her heart swelling with love.

Kaz stood close by, his heart aching as he watched Y/N gently caress their daughter’s cheek. “I’m so sorry she didn’t get to meet her,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. 

A tear rolled down Y/N’s cheek, glistening in the light as she nodded, her heart heavy with the memory of Alice. “Me too,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. 

“Hey, little one,” she said, her voice steadying as she spoke to her daughter, “you have to thank your great-grandma for not naming you Miracle.” A chuckle escaped her lips, lightening the atmosphere just a bit. 

Kaz laughed softly, shaking his head in agreement. “Not our proudest moment, sorry Alice,” he said, a bittersweet smile on his face. 

[goodluckclove]

On Not Writing

Hi! I'm back. i had a fun two days of doing absolutely nothing writing related, including scrolling this blog. Wife and I played a lot of Valheim. Took a lot of bike rides. Watched Interstellar for the first time - pretty good, kind of silly at the end. It was my first two-day weekend in probably three months, so it was much-needed, hard as it was.

And it got me thinking of some things I wanted to say to the community here. It's especially targeted towards younger writers, of which I used to be one, but I think it can apply to anyone who finds themselves despairing over how much they aren't writing.

Let's imagine you're sitting with me in this coffee shop. It's an overcast Portland morning and I just inadvertently vivisected a croissant. And as we sip our drinks (I ordered a lavender latte), you lament to me. I don't know what to do, Clove. I just haven't been writing!

You know what I say to that?

Good.

This is a new hot take of mine that I, once again, worry about upsetting people with. Because I see a lot of guides here about how to write, or how to write consistently, or how to write through writers block. But I haven't seen a single person talking about the inverse - how to not write. Or - perhaps more accurately - how to exist as a human being separate from your identity as a writer.

This is a problem for me.

Listen - I started young. I was 12 when I wrote my first novella, and 13 when I completed my first novel the next year. Adults in my life were impressed by the big-eyed child writing so many words. They encouraged me. I wrote two more novels, and they continued to encourage me. Because of the potential, right? I could be successful. I could be famous.

People stopped pushing me to try other things. I saw I was getting validation as a writer, so that only pushed me to continue fixating over something I was already enjoying and getting pretty good at. Dad had me writing two thousand words every day, because that's what Stephen King did. At 16 I finished four full-length novels, which everyone thought was really cool and interesting. I was also sporting dual hand braces every day throughout the winter to cope with the carpal tunnel I still struggle with to this day.

There is encouraging a person in their passion. There is also poisoning them with the belief that their self-worth comes from pursuing that passion. This is entirely, absolutely, even more true for younger writers and artists.

I am enraged for the young writer in my heart and in my head. Because they worried about a lot of the same things I see people worry about on here. Oh, if I don't write I'm not a writer! And to an extent they're right, as to be a writer you need to at some point write some stuff.

But here's the fucking thing, Young Clover - a child should not strive for the work ethic of a professional adult. You did not need to write 2k words a day to be a writer. You were a writer as soon as you updated that terrible Invader Zim fanfiction you wrote when you were 10.

And more than that, though, the most important thing to a person should not be their job and aspirations. If you don't write every day, you're still a writer. If you've never written anything, you aren't - and that's fine. You might write something later down the line, or you might not. Either way you are still entitled to exist on the planet and capable of living a full and passionate and wonderful life.

Hear my words: being a writer is not more important than being a human being.

If you aren't writing right now, maybe you're not supposed to be. Maybe you're meant to be nurturing your relationships, or nurturing yourself. Maybe you're supposed to be volunteering. Or meeting new people. Or gaining a new field of knowledge. Or getting really good at making focaccia bread. Or watching every Mark Wahlberg movie.

I don't like to hear this any more than you do. If I was told that I, for some reason, was not allowed to write for the rest of my life, I would be miserable for maybe a long time. After that passed it's my hope that I would move on and do other things, because my worth is not dependent on being a writer. I like doing it. I like being it, and I hope to be one for the rest of my life. But I never want it to be the first thing people see when they look at me. I don't even like bringing it up in conversation with people I don't already know.

So yeah, if you have "writer's block", maybe consider putting down the pickaxe and getting some rest. Step away entirely from the large boulder that stands between you being the next Stephen King or Brandon Sanderson or Teen Dystopia Writer no. 2321. Take a break, and I mean an ACTUAL break, not the kind where you spend the whole time sulking about work.

I am legitimately begging the writers on here to have developed lives and interests outside of writing. I am begging because I do not have that and it has consistently been one of the hardest things of my life.

You prioritize living outside your writing and it will improve the quality of your writing when you get back to it, as it'll allow you a frame of reference that extends beyond our niche industry. Or it might make you realize that, while you enjoy writing, what you really love is ceramics. Or game developing. Or mutual-aid activism. Or the movies of Mark Wahlberg.

It is not your job to treat yourself like you already have a dozen deadlines and an audience teetering on the edge of disappointment. That's ultimately not going to help you. Your job on this earth is to exist fully, for the sake of the universe that wants so desperately to live vicariously through you.

So breathe. Breathe and calm down. You aren't a failure and there's nothing you have to prove. All you have to do today is drink some water and have a nice snack while you look at a cloud.

Please be kind. All of us need to be kinder to each other and to ourselves.

That's all I want to say. I love you dearly. Please let me know if you need anything.

[simplyluunaa]

Hii could you please write korekiyo/mondo/Gundam (separately) x trans male reader (chubby if comfortable)

Pls& thx

:)

˙⊹ ੈ✰[With a transmasc + chubby reader]✰ ੈ⊹˙

-ˏˋ. rules + masterlist ˊˎ-

Fandom: Danganronpa

Characters: Gundham Tanaka, Korekiyo Shinguji, Mondo Owada

Warnings: !!NOT SPOILER FREE!! Talk of dysphoria, top surgery scars, binding, mentions of weight

Tags: Established relationship, fluff, transmasc! reader

A/N: Thank you so much for my very first request!! I did my very best to make this as accurate as possible, so I hope you enjoy!

˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡⟢Gundham Tanaka

Getting this right out of the way, the Four Dark Devas love you

More body fat means you’re warmer!!

They might start preferring you over Gundham tbh

When finding out you’re trans, I feel like Gundham wouldn’t react all that much

Maybe make a comment on how he supposes even the dark gods who have crafted you can too make mistakes

His view on you doesn’t change one bit, though if you’ve had top surgery he will want to see the scars

Won’t ask, but he might try and sneak a peak whenever possible

I also feel like he’d have some basic knowledge on stuff like this, maybe due to some online friends or something, so if you haven’t had top surgery and use a binder, he’ll remind you to take breaks, not wear it while you sleep, stuff like that

On the topic of bodies – he likes that you’re chubby!!

He’s pretty thin himself, which can lead to him getting cold easily, so having you around to warm him up is nice

He also likes to sleep on you

If you’re ever feeling dysphoric, he does his best to help you however he can

If you want to just lay in bed and cry for a bit, he’ll be there for you, if you want a spontaneous late-night hair-cut, he’s already got the scissors, and he’ll affirm your masculinity however he can

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡⟢Korekiyo Shinguji

He has met so many people, of so many sizes and identities, that you don’t at all seem odd to him

Not to say he doesn’t find you interesting though

When finding out you’re trans, his reaction will just be like…nothing

He does not react

Maybe a ‘hm.’ but that's all you’re getting out of him

Once you open up to him about it though, he may occasionally ask questions

If you’ve had top surgery he asks to see the scars

I feel like he’d want to study the recorded instances of transgender people in the past, like in ancient Rome and stuff

And he will tell you about it

I feel like he’d like laying on your lap or stomach (if you're w/ it comfortable ofc!!)

Would read while snuggled up with you, just being together in silence for long periods of time

If you’re ever feeling dysphoric, he’ll go through a list of reasons why the features you’re upset with are not inherently feminine or anything to be ashamed of

But if that doesn’t help, he asks what will help you, and will do his best to assist you

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡⟢Mondo Owada

When finding out you’re trans, being so honest, he may not understand 

Like you might have to run it by him a couple of times

He’s a little bit dense, I fear

Also very protective, like if anyone so much as looks at you wrong he’s on the defensive

Even if it has nothing to do with you being trans or anything

Want to see the top surgery scars if you have them, and will ask

Also, asks like a million questions

Some may seem a bit insensitive, but he’s really just curious and wants to understand

If you wear a binder, he’ll end up doing research and worrying about you, so he’s constantly reminding you to take breaks, not wear it while you sleep or exercise, all that

On the topic of you being chubby – he does not care all that much!

He does like knowing he can hug you tight and not hurt you though, that’s good

I feel like he’d very much want you to lay on him

Like a heated weighted blanket 

If you’re ever feeling dysphoric, he genuinely has no idea what to do

He’ll try his best to re-affirm your manliness, maybe ends up yelling at you because he’s nervous

If you tell him what he can do to help though, he is ON IT

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

[naturecalls111]

i love your drawings so much<333 your art is so perfect like the anatomy looks so beautiful!!!! how did you learn to draw that anatomically correct? like do you use a lot of references or do you just know how to draw bodies atp? bc im struggling with anatomy lmaoo

Wahhhhh!!! 🥹 Thank you so much!!! I'm holding this praise very close to my heart right now!!!! I've spent a lot of time over the years doing studies and having images of muscle group diagrams open while drawing, so I'm super happy to hear it paid off!

So I don't really use references anymore when I start drawing and composing the pose, but I absolutely still reference diagrams of muscle groups when I find myself hesitating with the way certain parts of the body may appear. Something like this, for example:

Something that gives me an exaggerated idea of what that part of the body looks like so I can soften it to my liking. My main goal when using reference isn't to do a 1:1 replica, but rather understand What I'm Drawing while I'm drawing it. At this point of my art journey, I'd prefer having more practise in manipulating these muscles than just practising drawing what I can see.

(Worth mentioning I absolutely still practise observational drawing, and it undoubtedly aids this aspect of my drawing, too. I used to use fanart specifically to practise it, but this year I've taken to separating my fanart from my study art because I find that it allows me to be less miserable when it doesn't come out good LOL now I just do oil painting which helps me focus more on general shapes and values)

Using these types of categorised diagrams has also helped me simplify that initial structure of the body when I'm sketching. Having general markers of what muscle goes where definitely helps me set the position of the body in the long run.

I very, very highly encourage the use of references always, but especially when still learning to get more confident with anatomy!!!! Me not using references for poses is very much at the cost of having anatomy that could be even More accurate LOL I merely know where to place the lines to make things look Passably believable. Buuuttt that's also just the process of improving. Imagination is a muscle that has to be trained too. What's been helping me find a happy middle nowadays is drawing with references that cover small parts instead of using the reference for the whole illustration. FOR EXAMPLE!!!

I had drawn this much of the catlaila I recently posted without a reference before I was like.. Huh. I can't really figure out what I want to with the arms, but I also don't know what is Physically Possible to do with the arms here, so I'll experiment with my 3D poser (WHICH BTW I LOVE AND USED TO USE RELIGIOUSLY FOR EVEEERYTHING SO!! GO DOWNLOAD LOL it's called MagicPoser) and I had adjusted the models up to this point before being like, ok yeah this is enough for me to go off of as something that is physically feasible. So the posing of the rest of the models is whatever because I just needed to know what Laila's arms would look like. This was the final linework:

Like, it's still not a 1:1 with the reference, but it's just enough that it seems feasible !! My personal opinion is that sometimes reference doesn't capture the Shapes that I want it to, even if it's more realistic, so it's ok to break rules and just go with your flow lol... It's shocking how many times I've thought references of real human bodies look unrealistic and ridiculous HAHA Hence focusing more on learning the muscle groups/shapes so that I can adjust to my liking without sacrificing the integrity of the anatomy...

Also, not necessarily on anatomy, but I use plenty of references when I need to see things like how tight shirts stretch over breasts, or how cloth sits at a certain angle, or, honestly, hands. I almost always draw hands by looking at my own. I cannot stress enough: I use plenty of references. I am not a magician and I don't have perfect memory, even after four/five years of studied drawing x)))

Anyway. I've yapped so much. I try to be detailed in my explanation of anatomy because god knows how much I struggled with it!!! I STILL do. If you ever catch the link to it, I often stream these drawings and you'll see how many times I duplicate these layers so I can erase whole sections and try again, or how often I'll attempt the position of a leg over and over before I feel its right. The final product is so quick to digest but the process is frustratingly finicky, I promise, LMAO.

I hope this wasn't too convoluted and long, and I wish you the super best on your anatomy journey! If you ever need help and catch me at the right time, I'm totally open to giving any work a second opinion ! :3c

[winniefrezcomics]

THE FAIRY DALE POST

(Credit to @zennyzach / @perisprinkles for this certified banger)

Hi what’s up hello, decided to do this separately from the previous question so it would be easier for those who want to avoid it to do so dndbdhdhdjdjbh

to all the Dale fans out there, I’m sorry to admit that I am not among you- as much as I appriciate what an accurate depiction of an emotionally abusive parent he is, I am NOT manifesting a redemption arc for his ugly ass, and hope that Dev gets to stand up to him in a BIG way in the shows future 🥰

Anyway: Is Dale Still a shoddy father in the Fairly normal Parents AU?-

YES. He’s WORSE, actually!! ☠️

Trust me when I say the read-more is necessary here- PLEASE read the content warnings before deciding to proceed- covering fairy Dale and Fairy Devs relationship requires me breaking away from the wholesomeness of the rest of the AU to cover some darker topics-

CONTENT WARNINGS: dalepreg, mild NSFW text, unwanted pregnancy, references to pregnancy termination, emotional abuse, parental neglect, manipulation, unhealthy parental relationships, Dale Dimmadome in general

Okay, with that out of the way-

One important thing to note about my swap au is that, in the time period the ask blog takes place, ALL the faires are adults! Which I point out only to explain why, at this point in the story, Dev has ALREADY had his gigantic falling out with his father (that’s, tbh, pretty similar to the one I like to think HUMAN Dev eventually has in my personal hc timeline for him) SO YEAH, Dev and his father are currently NOT on speaking terms, and he really dislikes talking about him (Perry has never so much as learned Dale’s NAME. He’s that secretive about it after storming out and getting cut off, but I’m getting ahead of myself snsbdbdbd)

SO, TO START AT THE BEGINNING- Something I have yet to discuss in the ask blog bc we aren’t far enough in the plot yet for Dev to openly speak about magic (yes, plot ☠️) is the fact that Poof’s role as the “first fairy baby in a thousand years” actually belongs to FOUR faries in the swap AU- Dev, Hazel, Winn and Jasmyn!

(Aaand maybe some other kids from ANW too, it’s not carved in stone yet how many characters this includes 🤷)

The reason that so many fariy babies were born at ONCE- (inciting PURE CHAOS in fairyworld, I’m sure) is due to an anti-magical comet passing over fairyworld (which I have not yet worked out the name and specifics of, yall will have to give me til Hazel arrives to get THERE sbdbxjshdjdjjdd 😂)

BASICALLY the anti-comet, unbeknownst to anyone, weakened and warped the magic spell in place that prevented fairy babies from being possible-

-go ahead and assume this middle part for yourself lmao-

Once the pregnancies start making themselves know. FOR THE MOST PART fairy couples are ECSTATIC to learn that they’re expecting- and because the comet violated nothing in Da Rules, they were ALL allowed to keep thier miracle babies (don’t ask abt Antony wheeze, I’m still thinking abt it tbh 😂)

So all of fairyworld is abuzz with excitement about all the expecting miracle parents… with the exception of one. Dale ‘Day-breaker’ Dimmadome, owner of the corporation that runs most of fairyworld, and the LAST FAIRY ALIVE that should have been entrusted with caring for a child, has also found himself expecting (don’t ask me how it happened lmfao, let’s just say “partied too hard in fairly Las Vegas” and leave it at that ☠️☠️☠️)

Needless to say, Dale was NOT on board with the idea of being pregnant, giving birth, OR raising a baby, so he has the AU pairs research every possible solution to the ‘problem’ right away, and keeps his pregnancy a secret for as long as possible.

However, all of that changed when the future visions started. They were mild, at first- just strangely frequent moments of Deja vu in Dales day to day life running his company, and strangely accurate dreams every now and then. BUUT as Dev continued to develop and grow, the visions got clearer and clearer, until Dale finally got fed up and went to see a fairy fortune teller, who informed him that his unborn baby must be the source of the prophetic dreams, and they would only get more powerful with time. Even in his fetal state, other clairvoyants Dale went to see could tell- DEV was going to be a VERY powerful one.

Okay so here’s where the “eugh” REALLY starts for me- (if it hasn’t started for u already screams)

Once Dale realized how USEFUL the future visions were, he decided to halt his research, and carry the baby to term, so that he could continue to have the visions, as he considered them an advantage while expanding his corporation.

Much to Dales dismay however, the SECOND the baby is BORN, Dale loses the clairvoyance ENTIRELY, buuuut now that Dale knows he has something to GAIN from doing so, he decides he DOES want to raise this child, so that it can be of use to him in the future (tho by “raise” I of course mean “make the AU pairs raise ☠️☠️)

I don’t have a drawing of them yet, but fun fact, fairy Dev was raised by two au pairs (the AU’s pixie equivalent) that are based on his drones from ANW- their ‘names’ are technically just strings of numbers, but Dev nicknamed his two servants/gaurdians/weird robotic gay dads “silver” and “Gold” 🥈🥇

I’ll infodump on them too if anyone asks abt em, but this is the Dale post wheeze, back to the horrors-

Dev grows up barley knowing his father, but slowly gets more and more demanding of his fathers attention with time, desperately wanting to form a relationship with him. Eventually, Dale relents, allowing Dev to spend much of his time by his father’s side, almost like a teeny tiny advisor or smthn? Baby Dev couldn’t be happier, but Unfortunately, it’s Dale, so ofc he had ulterior motives. basically as SOON as Dev was able to talk, Dale began to constantly ask if he had had any new visions, even getting dev private magic/ fortune telling/ clairvoyance lessons, to try and hone his child’s skills as much as possible as quickly as possible.

At first Dev thinks nothing of how hyper-focused Dale is on his future-seeing powers, and is just happy to be included and close to his dad for once. He’s more than happy to have visions for him, recounting them with excitement, and delighting in the praise whenever his insight was considered “legitimately helpful”

However, as time went on, and Dev gained the context of meeting the OTHER fairy kids and thier families, he couldn’t help but slowly start to question his fathers “parenting methods” - if you could even call them that ☠️☠️

(Hazel Wishingwell heard a rumor about a secret fairy child being spotted on a balcony of the Dimmadome building, so she, Winn and Jasmyn went to investigate! WIP of a comic I’ll finish eventually. maybe. probably.

poor dev lived a very Elsa-esque, isolated life before he made three gremlin friends who started routinely “kidnapping” him from his damn repunzel tower to have fun and hang out 🥺💕)

This ever-growing sense of unease continues to eat at kid Divination, and part of him starts to wonder if his dad really DOES only care about his powers like his friends say he does…

they are all. horrified. To learn how little attention and affection Devs father gives him. ESPECIALLY because the three of them have incredibly loving parents that have been calling them “miracles” and “gifts” thier whole lives, while Dale has basically done nothing but COMPLAIN to dev about how HARD it was to carry him for all those months, especially when he wants Dev to stop questioning him. ☠️

So one day, as an experiment, Dev LIES about his future vision. Since Dev realized there was no way for anyone else to witness and vouch for the accuracy of his vision-retelling, he decides to advise his father AGAINST the deal he was prodding Dev to see a prediction for, despite his vision clearly telling him that the partnership would be extremely profitable. Dev does this for a few reasons, but it’s a decision owed in no small part to the fact that, the more successful partnerships his dad is involved with at any given time, the less time he has to spend with his son (not that his “spending time with” involves much outside of Dev telling his dad his visions and Dale ignoring any non-biussness conversation his literal child tries to start with him 🙃)

This works for a while, with dev estatic to be getting to spend more time with his dad, even IF his mood is consistently terrible from having to back out of so many potential partnerships that he thought for SURE would work and be profitable, but it didn’t occur to him that his son may be LYING until one day, a partnership HE turned down BLOWS UP after pairing with a DIFFERENT company. When confronted, Dev immediately breaks down and comes clean, trying to defend himself by claiming he “just wanted to spend more time with him”.

Dale is BEYOND un-moved by the sentiment, and swiftly bans dev from his office and advisor council, seeing very little of him for most of devs teen years (tho of course they pass by and interact now and then, Dale goes out of his way to steer clear of Dev is his “emotionally volatile state” or whatever)

Once Dev is a young adult however, Dale makes him an offer for how Dev can once again be useful to thier family business: since dev has been continuing to hone his magical abilities even in his fathers absence, by 17/18 he’s quite the skilled clairvoyant, so Dale offers to instate him as an offical employee of the Dimmadome corporation, and have him offer fortune telling services for a Hefty price.

Dev agrees, and it’s fine at first, but dev quickly realizes he HATES his job, and in addition, seeing into the future MULTIPLE TIMES A DAY was really starting to take a toll on both devs mental AND physical health (he started to struggle with migraines -hence the glasses- and near-constant dissociation episodes, to the point where dev often found himself disoriented and unsure if what he was seeing was real or a vision, if that makes sense?)

Dev eventually has enough, and works up the nerve to, at first politely, tell his father that he needs to quit his job. It takes dale and dev quite a bit of back and forth before Dale realizes the EXTENT to which dev is intending to quit (cold turkey) emotions rise steadily, until the attempted professional resignation has dissolved into a SHOUTING MATCH between a father and son

After dev SCREAMS every single thing he’s been holding back for YEARS into his fathers face, he storms off, and hasn’t been back since. Dev also indirectly trashed his office, because Devs magic reacts on its own when extreme emotions are at play (he gets the flaming hair thing from his dad tho dbdbdbendnd)

Current day dev actually isn’t SURE where he and his father stand, but he assumed it wasn’t good after all his credit cards stopped working, forcing him to take a job as a godparent to earn a living himself (Hazel was MORE than happy to drag him to godparenting school tho lmaoo)

SO YEAH THATS PRETTY MUCH IT

I miiiight make it canon that Dev and his dad reconcile and reconnect after Dev saves fairywolrd, but that’s getting into spoiler territory wheeze

TYSM for the question! Apologizes if this made anyone uncomfortable to read, but thanks for getting all the way down to the bottom of this ungoldly long ramble too lmaooo 🥺❤️