#i have more to say but i also want to say This stuff

[5sospenguinqueen]

Please, Please, Please | Max Verstappen x Singer! Reader

Summary:  What do you do when your ex-girlfriend moves on with another guy? Become needy and pathetic. But, when the guy brings you to tears, Max knows it's his time to save you from further heartbreak.

Warnings: barry keogan (i couldn't find any other men with her that worked), swearing, toxic relationships, pathetic max 

Requested: yes by many of you on the previous part 

Faceclaim: Sabrina Carpenter (she was used on the last one and yes, she's used a lot but I stole her song and her job so I'm also stealing her face)

F1 Masterlist

prev. || next.

part 4 will be the last part so it may seem a bit rushed but i didn’t plan anything else. sorry! these just seem to be getting worse as well, so i’m also sorry about that 

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maxverstappen1 just posted

liked by danielricciardo, liamlawson30 and others

maxverstappen1 a good effort from the team to start on the front row tomorrow 💪 let’s keep pushing tomorrow 🇺🇸

6,633 comments 

user1 twitter is claiming that max and kelly broke up

user2 okay but i actually can’t function until i know if max is free from kelly once more

user3 max please tell us if you and kelly have broken up

user4 i need max and kelly to be done forever this time 

user5 is it true that you broke up with kelly?

→ maxverstappen1 yes. now can we focus on the race

→ user6 @/yn_ln this means you can give him another chance 

→ user7 why would she want to after he ran back to kelly

(comments have been limited) 

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yn_ln just posted

liked by mclaren, actorbf and others

yn_ln surprise! if you have any questions, you can refer to my new single please, please, please 💋

13,850 comments 

user8 the two of them are so cute 

jennaortega i’ll give you all the kisses 

→ user9 i wouldn’t. not with all the men she goes through

→ oscarpiastri whoa now, there’s no need for that 

user10 don’t get me wrong. i’m loving all the new music. but my heart can’t handle all the new layers to this drama 

landonorris okay, little miss hollywood. that music video just proved you’d never do well in a film 

→ yn_ln oi, i act better than you do, mr hilton 

→ hilton we’d be happy to have you both

user11 ew, so she went from a hot motorsport driver to a subpar actor?

user12 wait, what? this wasn’t supposed to happen. she’s gone off script. max is single now, they were meant to be getting back together 

→ user13 she’s not his back-up plan. plus she’s way out of his league 

user14 don’t you think you might be putting strain on her new relationship? i doubt her new guy likes to see everyone preferring the old guy 

→ user15 hopefully that means he’ll leave and we can get her and max back

user16 has anyone checked on max?

(comments have been turned off)

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yn_ln just posted

liked by charles_leclerc, verstappencom and others

yn_ln how to lose a cake in 10 minutes 

16,334 comments 

alexandrasaintmleux the most beautiful birthday girl 

→ francisca.cgomes this dress is going to live rent free in my head 

→ yn_ln thank you for letting me show you both twenty different dresses

→ alexandrasaintmleux just wish you were taller so we could steal some of them 

→ yn_ln can’t believe you’d do this to me on the day of my birth 

→ oscarpiastri technically your birthday is tomorrow. this was just your birthday party

→ yn_ln thin fucking ice, piastri

user1 guys guys guys. verstappencom liked this. i repeat verstappencom liked this

→ user2 okay but that’s not max

→ user1 but it’s an advocate for max so 

landonorris dicaprio wouldn’t want you anyway. you’re too short

→ yn_ln i’ll make my boyfriend fight you 

→ landonorris i’m not scared of your polly pocket boyfriend

→ mclaren you can’t say stuff like this publicly, lan

→ user3 i swear none of them actually like her boyfriend 

→ user4 showing their support for max. he’s the only person who matches her beauty 

user5 no but the hand in the dress is somehow cute and hot 

→ user6 not with that guy. it should be max 

redbullracing happy birthday to our favourite popstar

replies

user7 what do you mean she had to pay for her own birthday meal on her birthday because her boyfriend wouldn’t

→ user8 not even wouldn’t but flat out refused 

→ user9 streets are saying it’s because he’s broke. not exactly like he’s raking in the job offers 

user10 so this man is lucky enough to get a chance with THE y/n l/n, then he refuses to pay for her dinner, and then he yells at her?? all on her birthday???

→ user11 he’s punching above his weight and clearly that angers him

→ user12 especially with the way she looked in that yellow sparkly dress today 

user13 someone clearly isn’t very smart. she writes a song for him - the first one she’s written recently that isn’t about max - and he does exactly what the song asks him not to do 

→ user14 how dare he try to embarrass our queen by yelling at her in front of so many people

→ user15 i’m starting to question if our girl does have good judgement. how could two men do this to her? 

→ user16 definitely doesn’t have good taste

user17 the audacity to yell at her in a restaurant of people, and then continue to do so after you were asked to leave because you were yelling at her

user18 and if i said i saw max verstappen pass them in the street, stop and turn, and start defending her, then what?

→ user18 he was literally yelling at this man whilst holding a crying y/n behind him, and rubbing her arm soothingly 

→ user19 we’d say you’re full of shit and have no tangible proof 

→ user20 this could be true because he was hanging out with charles and some of the drivers. and i just know alex sm got on the phone to her boyf and begged him to send the love of y/n’s life to save her

→ user19 pics or it didn’t happen

maxverstappen1 posted a new story yn_ln posted a new story

landonorris replied to maxverstappen1 i recognise the birthday girl's dress

landonorris replied to yn_ln who’s the 3rd person 👀 → wait why wasn’t I invited

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sorry if i missed anyone. it wouldn't let me tag some of y'all

[rebeccamix]

ha I have a funny story about this as a full-time fantasy author

so back in college, I took a creative writing class and turned in a short story I was very proud of. imagine my confusion when the professor — who I greatly admired and liked! – gave it back with a note saying I had incredible talent, a great command of prose etc, but I really should stop writing fantasy because I was "wasting my time on that genre stuff"

which like, was obviously a bummer to hear as a 20yo, but also! I ignored him. because I liked fantasy! and I wanted to be a fantasy author!

and wouldn't you know it, a few years later, I turned that short story into a book, got an agent with it, sold it to simon & schuster, and it went on to debut as a new york times bestseller. I've since sold eight more books to major publishers; all some form of fantasy, which is great, because this is now my full-time job.

anyways! fast forward to last year. a professor reaches out and asks me to come talk to his classes about writing professionally.

anyone want to take a guess which professor that was? would you guess it was the very same professor that told me to stop writing fantasy now asking me to come give his class advice about writing?

I do still quite like this professor! I happily went and chatted with those kids! But you can bet your ass I also went up to him and asked if he remembered telling me to stop writing fantasy. (He did not, but he did laugh and admitted it sounded like something he would say.)

now, do writers need to read widely? yes!! if you want to write fantasy professionally, you should read and study lit fic, non-fic, poetry, etc – but the flip side is also true. read widely. read all of it. there is so much incredible work being done in different genres. if you're refusing to read it because it's ~commercial~ you're genuinely doing the reader equivalent of only eating a single cracker at a giant Vegas buffet.

if you want to write genre fic, don't let anyone discourage you. hone your craft as you would any other category.

that genre stuff you're wasting your time on might just make your dreams come true.

my creative writing prof also HATES fantasy. as in if she asks for an example of symbolism in a book, and you give something from a fantasy novel, she’ll ask for an example from a “non-commercial book” instead.

I dunno man, people can have preferences, but the second you discount the artistic merit of sci fi and fantasy I stop taking your opinion seriously. and there’s such a big culture in Canada of only valuing literary fiction, to the point where one of our biggest authors, Margaret Atwood, refused for a while to classify her books as sci fi or fantasy. she said they were “speculative fiction”, which is entirely separate and very highbrow (sarcasm).

and I could go on about how Octavia Butler and Ursula Le Guin wrote books every bit as intellectual (and honestly, even more so) than their literary counterparts, but I am also an enjoyer of schlock!! I think there’s artistic merit in animorphs, and in isekais where a japanese schoolgirl reincarnates into a magical spider who has to level up like it’s a video game! it’s like with everything, you can’t draw a clean line that separates ‘art’ from ‘non-art’ or even ‘lesser art’, and pretending you can do so just makes you look ignorant and goofy. in my opinion.

[drchucktingle]

As an autistic person, did you struggle to make and keep friends? And have you found friends through the writing world? I ask because my mom always said i needed to find my people. I did finally find them (they are neurodiverse trans nerds, haha), but not until i was like 30. And i wonder if its true of other autistic people too. So i guess my question is: did you find your people, and when?

thank you this is good question. i have always had a LOT of CLOSE BUDS even from a very young age. i would actually say that i am unusually socially adept in my way and that it is partially BECAUSE of my autistic trot. LETS TALK ON THAT FOR A MOMENT

'BUT CHUCK YOU SAID YOU ARE ON THE SPECTRUM AND AUTISTIC BUCKAROOS CANNOT BE SOCIALLY ADEPT' some say. and sure it is UNUSUAL overall, technically speaking, but there is also an important reason we talk about this as a spectrum of buckaroos and not a monolith

when buckaroos ask me what it is like to be autistic i try to explain like this: there are certain cues and markers from the outside that serve as a sort of identification checklist but because of masking they are not always correct. instead i see it as question of WHAT IS IT LIKE INSIDE YOUR BRAIN?

internally my brain is different. its taking in way more information all the time, including the stuff that neurotypical buds block out, and that can become overwhelming. it is hard to navigate because i do not have that automatic neurotypical 'here is what is important here is what is not' function

so yes i can be easily distracted and zone out as i watch the patterns and fractals spin off. and yes i can miss certain things in social situations. in many autistic buckaroos this makes large groups overwhelming and the OUTPUT of behavior matches what we typically know as signs of autism

FOR ME however, same thing is going on inside, but i have managed to HARNESS that information. even from very young age i see that everyone is DOING THE HUMAN ACT but instead of rejecting that and shutting off i think 'well okay i am just going to do THIS because thats what they actually want'

in other words, most neurotypical buds say one thing that has a kind of spiraling social-cue-related OTHER MEETING (they do this ALL the time) and instead of rejecting that i have trained myself to be REALLY REALLY good at knowing the hidden meaning. it is EMPATHY but on a sort of LOGIC BASED level

and because i have always been pretty good at that, people like to trot around me and say 'wow this is a good friend they understand me'. now for ME that can be a little exhausting and there are things i need to do and stims and all that to release the effort, but overall it is worth it to me

OTHER THING is that i was a successful CREATOR AND ARTIST BUCKAROO from an early age which is socially seen as 'cool' especially when you are trotting around in your youth. it is not particularly FAIR but it is true that some level of fame makes buds treat you well even if you are 'weird'.

of course it can be a sort of FAKE 'treating you well' but as an autistic buckaroo it is still more of a chance than you might otherwise get. this timeline has sort of carved out a very special little sliver of social grace for the token odd artistic weirdo to have a seat at each cool kids table

ANYWAY that is the trot of my life. it is a unique trot that i dont get to talk on much but since you asked THERE YOU GO. every chance i get to say 'I LOVE BEING AUTISTIC' and talk on HOW MUCH IT HAS IMPROVED MY LIFE i try to take a moment and do that. when i was young i had few autistic heroes

and OF COURSE it can be difficult and overwhelming and we need to have space for those stories and voices, but i want young buckaroos who get this diagnosis to know there are ALL KINDS of stories and trots on the autism spectrum. MINE IS PRETTY DANG COOL and maybe yours will be too. LOVE IS REAL

[lackadaisycats]

Hi Tracy, I want to apologize for what I said yesterday, about the boredom. My words were badly used and I did not mean to hurt you or anyone reading the post. I'm sorry.

It's alright. No need to apologize, but thank you in any case. After the fact, I realized I might have misinterpreted what you were saying to some extent. I apologize back if I did. What I said about finding other things to keep you interested, expanding your interests, and putting energy into making your own things still stands, though.

This might be tangential or off-base, but I know "hyperfixation" is how a lot of people (in casual, not diagnostic terms) describe their relationship to fandom, and it sort of makes it seem like a given fandom should be expected to occupy that much space in your life, or like it should become your veritable identity. But I don't think that's a healthy way to approach fandom. It's okay to be really interested and inspired by something, or to be briefly fixated on it. It's also okay to get sort of bored with it and move on after time. You can love something at a distance. You can come back later...or maybe you'll grow out of it and become more interested in other things. Hopefully lots of other things! That's part of growing up or growing as a person. I think it's healthy to maintain multiple interests and to make friends in varied spaces. Get inspired by lots of stuff! The more the better. Define yourself for yourself, not entirely by which fandom space you're in at any given time. You are more than what fandom you're in.

[nemisuki]

New Colors 

Synopsis || A grumpy 5 yr old wanting his classmates' attention!

᧔o᧓ || katsuki bakugo x f!reader, she/her pronouns, pure fluff, short oneshot, bkg pov, kid bkg & reader, jealous bkg, deku mentioned, both in preschool, open ending, he’s just a lil guy, 488 word count

He couldn't believe what he was hearing! 

An extra actually managed to take her attention away from him?! Ridiculous!

And out of all people... of course it had to be the nerd.

The blonde frowns from across the classroom – practically burning holes through poor izuku's skull – his displeasure evident in the way he furiously fills his page with crayon.

For a five year old, the teachers noted that the boy had quite a temper, so they didn't think much of it when he stomped out of his seat a few minutes later.

Assuming he's simply having one of his infamous tantrums.

Instead, he marches towards her direction – right after izuku retreated to his seat – feeling like a small fireball, destined to explode but holding back his fury for her sake.

The exchange between y/n and izuku bothered him more than he liked to admit.

Her innocent gaze meets his and before she could get a word out, his hand reaches down to grab her coloring book, the other pulling her hand to follow.

Hmph, as if he'll let Izuku snag her away.

She's beyond speechless. Stumbling a bit but soon pauses as he drops her hand, watching as he places her book at the table next to his.

"Sit."

He doesn't wait for a response as he plops down in his own chair, going back to filling his All Might coloring sheet like nothing.

Though his pink cheeks are clearly noticeable to anyone who'd look his way.

"o-oh but my crayons-"

He nudges his own box of crayolas towards her, not making eye contact as he focuses on coloring inside the lines.

The boy can hear her sit down beside him, a small sound of awe escaping her lips as she takes a crayon for herself.

"thank you kacchan! you always got the best colors!"

A cheerful smile immediately forms on her face, her mood brightening up instantly – legs happily kicking back and forth under the table – another testimony to her increasing joy.

"hmph of course i do! the best for the best!"

The feeling of triumph fills his veins but the cocky smirk wavers from his face as he looks at you. A fluttering feeling in his chest as she giggles to his words.

He averts his gaze as his blush deepens.

"...you can borrow them too but only if you sit next to me from now on."

"ah- really?! okay i promise!"

"just don't give them to anyone else...... especially him."

He mumbles the last part to himself, waving off her oblivious expression as she asks him what he said.

Bakugo Katsuki does not share – whether it's his lunch, school supplies or toys – steal one of his valuables and it's absolute mayhem.

But to the stunned teachers who saw it all, and the shocked kids when he actually offered stuff to someone, it seemed he added another treasure to his list... you.

Poor innocent you.

✦ ⎯⎯⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨ masterlist || taglist || intro || socials ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⎯⎯ ✦

a/n ||| idk where this idea came from but here u goooo! it's rlly short bc ngl i got superrrr lazy today so enjoy this little drabble! bring back innocent fluff i say... lowkey wanna make a story of them as babies bc thats so funny to me for some reason lololol. OMG ALSO DOES ANYONE REMEMBER THE 64 PACK OF CRAYONS THAT HAD A SHARPENER INCLUDED IN THE BOX?! BRING THAT BACK!!! tags ||| @leleyro @zaiban2989 ໒꒰ྀི ´๑  ̫๑`  ꒱ྀིა

[dailymanners]

I've gotten a few people who seem to misinterpret what this post is saying, and for some reason read it as "when you're in line you need to turn around and check how many items the person behind you has or else you're a bad naughty citizen"

It seems they missed the part where I said "especially if you are approaching the line at the same time" which means you'd have a clear line of sight over how many items they have. I mean if you *want* to turn around and see how many items the person behind you has that's nice of you, but not necessarily what this post is talking about. I mostly had in mind when I made it those moments when you're approaching the line at the same time as someone else.

I made this post because myself and several people I know have noticed in the past few years, it could just be where I live but it could be more widespread, that if you're walking up to the line at the same time as someone else, a lot of people will start power walking or outright sprinting to get there before you, even if you clearly have less stuff. Myself and my loved ones have noticed more people also trying to aggressively shove in front of you even when you clearly have less items.

Maybe this is just another case of Icelanders being Icelanders, Icelandic people are infamously bad at queueing and respecting the queue order. But also based on the notes I get on this post from people all over the world it really seems like Iceland isn't the only place people could use a reminder to be courteous and considerate when lining up for something, whether it's the bank or the grocery store or the office canteen.

Offer to let other people go ahead of you in line, especially if you're approaching the line at the same time. This is double applicable if you're in a store and the other person has fewer items than you.

This is a small gesture of kindness that in most cases will cost you very little time or effort. It shows consideration for other people's time. Especially in the case of being in a store and letting someone with fewer items than you go first, there is no sense in making someone else wait for you who would otherwise be able to get in and out much quicker.

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Neighbour - Noncon

With your electricity out and your devices dead, you have no choice but to turn to your neighbour for help. He's more than willing to welcome you into his home. Really, you're lucky he's such a nice guy.

Tags: male yandere x gender neutral reader, noncon, somno, just the tip anal, daddy kink but only if you squint, 3.3k words

Living in the middle of nowhere had its perks. Privacy. Untouched nature. Peace and quiet.

But after the third day with no electricity, those perks were starting to look pretty damn weak. Your fridge was sitting in an ever expanding puddle. Almost all your devices were dead. And if you had to take one more cold shower you were going to cry.

It was when you were digging through your drawer looking for desperately needed batteries that you found your neighbour's number. He'd offered it to you a little while after you moved in, and while you two were on friendly terms, you'd never actually spoken for longer than a few minutes. You sighed, looked at the 10% left on your phone and decided that desperate times called for desperate measures.

You: hey, it's me. I still haven't got any power. Do you mind if I come over to charge some stuff?

He replied almost instantly.

Unknown: aww that sucks

Unknown: come on over. I've got hot stew and a generator

Unknown: and you can take a hot shower too if you want

Score. And to think you found him intimidating at first. Just goes to show that you can't judge on appearances. You packed a change of clothes, your devices and the last tub of ice cream that wasn't totally melted. You'd find some way to properly pay him back but a tub of chocolate fudge double cream wasn't a bad way to start.

He was waiting on his porch when you pulled up. A bear of a man in a flannel and blue jeans, a five o' clock shadow darkening his jaw.

"Howdy neighbour," he drawled, opening your door for you while you grabbed your stuff. "Regretting leaving the city yet?"

You huffed a laugh. "You do NOT want to know the answer to that."

His cabin was much larger than yours, a two storey behemoth with wide windows and exposed beams. It had a rustic charm - like some natural park Air BnB where they charged a weeks pay for just one night. A little too big for just one man. Didn't he get lonely?

"I brought some ice cream and chocolate to say thank you. And also because it miiight have been melting."

He opened the door for you and ushered you through with a hand on your lower back.

"Hell, I'll never say no to something sweet."

There was a fire burning in the fireplace and a stack of logs in a crate next to it. He was so much better suited to this life than you were. He locked the door behind you and slipped the keys into his pocket.

"Old habit," he explained with an easy grin.

"Why don't you get settled? I'll plug your stuff in."

You handed over your tech with a relieved sigh.

"Thank you. Really. I'm so behind on work already and I haven't heard anything back from the power company."

"I wouldn't hold my breath," he said. "Once ended up going a week straight with not even a light bulb flickering."

You winced. "It gets that bad?"

"Yep. Especially in winter. Gets dangerous then too."

He tilted his head at you, concerned. "You need to get yourself better sorted before it starts snowing. I hate to think of you stuck out there when the blizzards start rolling in."

God, could you be any more of a city slicker? You rubbed your neck, embarrassed.

"Thanks. I've been here a few months now and I guess I just didn't realise how serious things can get."

"It's all good. But if I'm honest, I get worried thinking about you out there all alone. Plenty of drifters end up passing through. Not a good place to be alone, not for a little thing like yourself."

Little? You wanted to feel indignant, but looking at his bulk, you reckoned that most folk probably seemed little to him.

He lead you to the fireplace and poured you a mug of coffee from the pot that was waiting for you. He jerked his head at the hunting rifle on display above the mantle.

"I can teach you to shoot, if you've got some free time."

You took a sip of the coffee, internally debating with yourself. You could see the sense in your offer but you weren't a big fan of guns. Hell, just being around them was nerve wrecking enough. Maybe -

You looked down at your mug in surprise.

"This is some really good stuff."

The coffee was strong, bitter in the best sort of way. You could catch a hint of chocolate in it too. Just sweet enough to make your toes curl.

" 'Course. Only the best for my guest. Help yourself to another cup. I'll just put your stuff on charge and be right back."

You finished your drink in a few sips and happily poured a second serving. Hot coffee... man, you didn't think three days without it would be so tough. Usually, you were pretty sensitive to caffeine. But by the time your neighbour came back, your head was tilted back and you were half asleep.

You tried to shake yourself out of it but he just laughed and pushed you back down.

"You probably haven't had a good sleep since the power went out. Just rest. We can talk once you wake up."

"I'm sorry..."

"It's fine." His hand was still on your shoulder, thumb rubbing small circles into your neck. "It's just fine with me."

You drifted off after that. Into a deep sleep without any dreams. Waking up was like slogging through molasses.

"Finally up sleepy head?"

It was dark outside and your neighbour was on one knee in front of the fire place, coaxing fresh wood to catch.

You sat up slowly. Your muscles ached and there was a strange, salty taste on your tongue.

"My heads killing me..."

He stood, poker still in his hand. "You must be starving then. I've already got some food on the stove. You'll feel better after you eat."

You didn't feel hungry at all. If anything, you felt almost hangover.

"Thanks," you managed. "I'm sorry to be such a bother."

He waved you away. "I don't mind a bit."

He came back with a bowl of steaming hot chow and stood with his arms crossed on the back of your couch while you ate.

"It's real late. I reckon you should stay over. I don't want you driving on dirt when it's so dark."

"Oh, it's fine. I've already put you out so much."

"Don't be silly. I insist."

You shivered without meaning to. That almost growl, low and bordering on menacing. It was so familiar, so...

"Just like that. Look at you, half asleep and still desperate for my cock."

"You like the taste? Yeah, I bet you fucking do."

"Ain't just gonna use your mouth next time."

You squeezed your eyes shut. Where the hell was this coming from? Were you remembering some sick dream from this afternoon?

"You okay there neighbour?"

You nodded. "Just my head."

Maybe he was right. Driving when you were so disorientated was just asking for trouble.

"If you really don't mind... I'll be happy to sleep over."

He laughed, a deep, rumbling thing. "I'll make the guest room up special, just for you."

"Could I use your shower too?"

"I offered didn't I? Come on, I'll show you where it is."

He took you to the master bedroom and jerked his thumb at the en-suite.

"Hot water is the most reliable in there. Door doesn't close that well though, so don't mind it. I'll be downstairs when you're done."

You brushed your teeth carefully. You lips felt sore, bruised in a way you couldn't explain.

You waited until you heard his footsteps going down the stairs before you stripped off your clothes. You stood under the hot water for a good few minutes, luxuriating in the feeling. The bathroom was thick with steam when you finally got to scrubbing yourself. The door was open just a crack and the bedroom beyond was dark. You forgot all about it until you heard the creak of the hinges.

You whirled to face the door, your hands coming up to cover yourself. The steam was too thick to see through. You called his name.

Nothing.

You stepped out with suds still on your thighs and pushed the door open. The room beyond was empty.

You sighed. God, you were being paranoid. Your neighbour was a great guy. It was unfair of you to treat him like a peeping tom when he'd gone out of his way to make you comfortable. It must have been just an errant draught.

You stepped back into the shower and rinsed yourself off. But no matter what you told yourself, you still kept an eye on the door.

When you went to change into your fresh clothes, you spent at least five minutes hunting for your underwear. Did you drop it somewhere? Oh, please say your undies weren't just sitting in the middle of his hallway. That would be beyond embarrassing.

Eventually you gave up and just decided to go without them. Not comfortable at all but still better than walking around in a towel to look for them. And much better than calling your neighbour in to help. Wouldn't that be fun? 'Hey neighbour that I don't know that well, you haven't seen my intimates lying around, have you?' Yeah, you'd never again get invited over after something like that.

When you were dressed, you found him already on his way up the hall. He was carrying a glass of water and some pills.

"Thought you might still have a headache, so I brought you some painkillers."

You paused, nervous but not sure why.

"Thanks." His hands dwarfed yours when he handed them over. You didn't recognise the name of on the pills, but they looked harmless. You tossed them back and gagged at the bitter aftertaste.

"They pack a punch, so tell me when you start to get drowsy."

"Aye aye captain."

You followed him to the guest room. It was at the very back on the second story, quieter than the rest of the house. A huge glass wall gave you a view of the forest disappearing into the darkness. You could see the ghost of your reflection in the glass, your neighbour a hulking, shapeless mass at your shoulder.

He took a seat in an armchair across form the bed and stretched out his legs. You perched on the edge of the mattress, still feeling a bit like an intruder.

"How long have you been staying out here?” you asked.

He smiled at you, teeth glinting almost wolf-like. "Got you curious?"

"A little. Folk in town say they hardly see you. I don't know... I'm just wondering if you ever get lonely."

He was quiet and you cursed yourself for being so nosy. You hurried to fill the silence.

"It's just that I get a bit lonely out here too. 'Specially when it's so quiet. And I guess I was wondering if it's the same for you."

He smiled at you, rueful. "At times. Used to be worse, but I've got a new interest to keep me occupied nowadays."

"Oh yeah? What?"

"Bird watching."

"Really? What do you look for?"

The way the room was lit up, you couldn't see his eyes. They fell into shadow and you only had his lips to read his emotions by. He smirked, slow and almost mocking.

"Just one bird I look out for. Flighty little thing. Tends to get caught by predators a lot. You’d probably recognise it."

The polite thing to do would be to ask what it was called. You didn't. Some part of whispered that you wouldn't like the answer.

You must have been quiet a little too long because he took it as his cue to leave. He stood, a mountain of muscle, his eyes not quite as nice as they seemed that afternoon. A trick of the light, surely. He wouldn't hurt a fly.

"You rest up. Got a busy day tomorrow."

"G'night."

He was gone before you thought to ask what he meant. And you were passed out on your pillows before you realised it. He was right. The pills sure did pack one hell of a punch.

You were aware of a shadow at the end of your bed. You weren't fully awake, and your limbs were slow and heavy with more than just sleep.

"Who..."

The shadow reached down and one warm paw circled your ankle.

"Just me little bird."

You knew that voice. It was the voice that brought you warm food and invited you in from the cold. You could trust it. Could go back to sleep and not worry about anything.

'No,' some part of you hissed, 'He's not as safe as you think.'

"Cold..."

The shadow laughed and it was the laugh of the fox finding the rabbit's den. Nasty. Hungry.

"Cold huh? Don't worry baby. I'll warm you right up."

He yanked your ankle towards him and your whole body slid down the bed. You were too drowsy to stop it.

"Knew you were gonna be mine the second I saw you," he cooed, hands running up your thighs.

His fingers slipped under your waistband, nails scraping your hip bones.

"Dumb little thing from the city. Doesn't even realise I've tripped all their breakers. That's why you don't have power baby. It's all me."

His fingers were as big as the rest of him. Thick, meaty. Skin rough from working outdoors. You whined when his fingertips scraped the edges of your hole.

"No underwear. You needy slut. That's practically a written and signed invitation to fuck you."

He pulled your pants down to your ankles and pushed your knees up to your stomach. And you were too out of it to stop him. Limp and pliable as a fuck doll.

Your tight ass was exposed to the cold air, entirely at the mercy of whatever he wanted to do.

"Cute." He circled his thumb around the rim, almost pushing in but not quite. "Wanted to be in this ass since you first showed up at my door all those months ago. Lookin' up at me all sweet. Fuck, it's enough to drive a man to desperation."

He lowered his head and you could feel his warm breath washing over your thighs.

He dragged his tongue across your hole. Some part of you must have been more awake than the rest, because your whole body jerked away from him.

"None of that," he cooed, hands digging into your thighs and dragging you back. "I haven't even gotten started yet."

He licked you again, deeper this time. The flexed tip of his tongue pushing at your entrance, and to your dull horror, actually slipping in. He moaned and you could feel the vibrations all through your crotch.

He pulled out and spat, rubbed it in with his fingers. One of them pushed in until the second joint, curling into your walls so rough that you gasped.

"Please..."

"Please what?" he mocked. "Please fuck my tight little ass? Please cum inside me? Use your words little bird."

"Please...stop..."

That made him laugh again, made him shove his finger in all the way to the knuckle. Twisting so cruelly as he pulled out and jerked back in.

"Stop? Stop? After all the work it took to get you here? No way baby. I'm not slowing down and I'm sure as fuck not stopping."

You heard the sound of his belt unbuckling, followed by a sharp intake of breath when he nudged his leaking head against your hole.

"You’re not going to remember this. And I'm not going to leave any evidence."

He pushed your legs tighter against your chest.

"So as much as I want to fuck you rotten, you're gonna have to be happy with just the tip."

He'd done a good job loosening and lubing you, but it still burned like a hot poker when he forced his way in. He groaned, almost in pain.

"You're fucking choking me. God, do you want my cum so bad?"

You could feel when the tip was in. That tiny difference in thickness between his head and shaft was oh so noticeable when your ass was clenching and fluttering around it. It was the smallest mercy, but mercy nonetheless.

He was panting from the effort of getting it in, the effort of holding back. The size difference between you almost perverse. Like a draft stallion trying to mount a pony. In every way, he was just too fucking big.

He spat in his hand and brought it to his cock, ran his palm up and down his shaft with sickly wet strokes. The combination of his palm and your squeezing ass was fucking delicious.

He had great stamina but fuck if it didn't feel like you were milking him.

He let go long enough to smack your ass. It almost finished him. You clenched around him so hard it felt like his tip was getting fucking crushed.

"Shiiiit, you're the best hole I've ever had. Can't wait 'til I can go all the way."

You whined, pitiful as snared prey. There were words there, though they were too slurred to make out. Something about Daddy and please and stop. He ignored you.

He pushed in a little deeper and watched your face scrunching up. So helpless, so fucking caught. That was what did it. The knowledge that he could do this to you at any point and you'd be helpless to stop it.

He came inside you, snarling through clenched teeth, his fingers digging into your thigh hard enough to bruise. You'd notice the marks in the morning and chalk it up to just being clumsy. But he'd know. He'd see the bruises peeking out from the hem of your shorts and his cock would twitch just a little at the memory of leaving them.

His cock pulsed. Shot strings of spunk deep inside you. You could feel it. Hot, too hot. Gross. Make it stop. Get it out.

He pulled out with a wet pop. His cum drooled down and he took a minute to work it back into you with his finger. Your hole was gaping just a little and it made his balls pulse. If he had the time...

"A real fucking mess. And on my good sheets too. You're a terrible guest."

He mopped up whatever cum remained with a balled up piece of martial that he pulled from his pocket. Even in you stupor, you recognised it as your missing underwear.

"Terrible guest, but the perks of having you around are pretty fucking sweet."

He dropped your knees back to the mattress, pulled your pants back into place and roughly yanked the duvet over you. He grabbed your jaw and smiled at the lost, drowsy look in your half open eyes.

"Got a big day tomorrow. Gonna wake up and find your whole house was flooded. Ruined. Gonna have nowhere to stay but with me."

He sounded smug. It made your guts twist.

Outside, the night grew quiet. A predator was hunting and most prey knew better than to catch its attention.

"I made sure of it. All your family and friends in the city are away from home. There's no one around to help you out..."

He tightened his grip just enough to watch the fear start dancing in your eyes.

"No one...except me."

He let you go and smiled that same warm, comforting smile from that afternoon.

"Dumb little thing. Got no clue how your water mains work, do you? Got no idea how easy they are to sabotage."

He tutted. "Got me so damn busy. I'm gonna have to run to your place, fuck shit up and be back here before you wake up for real."

He traced his index finger over your lips and left behind a sticky coating of spunk. You'd wake up tasting salt again, with no memory of why.

"But it's fine. I forgive you. After today we'll have plenty of time together. Rest of our lives in fact. So just sleep tight and forget what you think you've dreamed."

There are perks to living in the middle nowhere. Privacy. Untouched nature. Peace and quiet.

There are perks, but unfortunately for you, your neighbour isn't one of them.

[jisungiesvzz]

Hii I absolutely loves ur fanfic!! Would u mind doing a jeongin version on unexpected?

I'm sorry this took so long to write! I’ve been having heavy workloads from school and I've also had writers block ugh. Anyways, I hope you enjoy :).

Crossing Lines

Idol!Jeongin x fem!reader

Warnings: kissing lessons, making out, neck kissing

Word Count: 2.7k

Author's Note: please let me know if I missed warnings, otherwise enjoy :)

Versions: Hyunjin // Han // Jeongin

—

The afternoon sun streams through Jeongin's apartment windows, casting golden hues across the living room. You sit cross-legged on the floor, a small velvet pouch between your fingers as you rummage through its contents.

"I still can't believe I forgot my jewelry," you sigh, carefully examining a silver chain with a small fox pendant. "You sure you don't mind me borrowing yours?"

Jeongin smiles from his position on the couch, phone in hand as he scrolls through his social media feed, hoping to run across a good hang out spot near you. "What's mine is yours, y/n. Three years of friendship earns you jewelry-borrowing privileges."

Giving him a soft smile, you hold up one of his earrings to the light, a simple silver hoop that catches the sunbeam and sparkles.

"It's scary how well you know me," you laugh, sorting through more pieces. "Like, you knew I'd forget something tonight."

"That's why I always keep extra stuff around for you," he replies, setting his phone down. "I am fully prepared for Hurricane Y/N."

You playfully throw a small cushion at him, which he catches effortlessly. You can't imagine your life without these little moments—the casual hang outs in his apartment, the inside jokes, the way he always seems to understand exactly what you need.

"Hey, remember that truth or dare game at Chan's party last week?" Jeongin suddenly asks, a tint of curiosity in his voice.

You groan, instantly knowing where this was heading. "Please, not this again."

"I'm just saying," he continues, sitting up straighter, "I was surprised when you said you've never been kissed. I mean, you're twenty-two!"

You feel your cheeks warm, lowering your voice to a near mumble. "So? Some people are late bloomers..."

"It's not a bad thing," Jeongin says quickly. "I just... I don't know, I just assumed you had."

You shrug, suddenly finding the jewelry in your hands incredibly fascinating. "I guess I've just never found the right person... or the right moment."

A weighted silence settles between you, unusual in its intensity. You can feel Jeongin's eyes on you, but you can't bring yourself to meet his gaze.

"I could teach you."

The words hang in the air, simple yet earth-shattering. Your head snaps up, certain you've misheard.

"Teach me what?"

Jeongin's expression is unreadable, a mix of nervousness and something else you can't quite place. "How to kiss. If you want."

You feel like the air has been sucked from the room. This is Jeongin—your best friend, the person who holds your hair back when you're sick and who can make you laugh until your sides hurt.

"That would be weird, wouldn't it?" you manage, your voice barely above a whisper.

He shrugs, attempting nonchalance though you can see the tips of his ears turning pink. "Only if we make it weird. It's just a skill, like teaching someone to drive or cook."

"A skill," you repeat skeptically.

"Yeah," he says, sliding down from the couch to sit across from you on the floor. "And then when you meet someone you actually want to kiss, you'll be ready."

You bite your lip, considering the possibility. The idea sends butterflies swarming through your stomach, but there's also a strange sense of... curiosity.

"Nothing would change between us?" you ask cautiously.

Jeongin shakes his head firmly. "Nothing. We're best friends first, always. This would just be me helping you out."

You take a deep breath. "Okay."

"Okay?" His eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"Yes. Teach me." You confirm, your heart pounding through your chest.

Jeongin moves closer, his movements careful and deliberate. "So first, it helps if you face each other," he explains, his voice lower than usual.

You readjust your position, suddenly hyperaware of every inch of space between you and him. The jewelry laying forgotten on the floor beside you.

"Usually there's eye contact," he continues, and you force yourself to meet his gaze. His eyes—those familiar eyes you've looked into a thousand times—now seem different, deeper somehow.

You tried convincing yourself that it’s just kissing lessons but something about kissing him feels more intimate than it should.

"Then what?" you whisper.

"Then, one person usually leans in. Sometimes both." His hand comes up to gently brush a strand of hair from your face, and you feel your breath catch. "Sometimes there's touching. Like this."

His fingers trace a feather-light path along your jawline, coming to rest at the nape of your neck. The sensation sends shivers down your spine.

"And then?" Your voice is barely audible now.

Instead of answering, Jeongin leans forward, closing the distance between you. His lips press against yours, gentle and questioning. Your eyes flutter closed instinctively, your hand tentatively reaching up to rest on his shoulder.

The kiss is soft, a brief moment of connection that ends almost as quickly as it began. Jeongin pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours.

"That's the basics," he says, his voice rough around the edges. "A simple first kiss."

You nod, unable to form words. Your lips tingle where his had been, and you find yourself wanting more—a realization that both thrills and terrifies you.

He's your best friend. Right…?

As if reading your thoughts, Jeongin speaks again. "Then there are... deeper kisses."

"S-show me..." you whisper, surprising yourself with your boldness.

This time when he leans in, there's an urgency that wasn't there before. His lips capture yours more confidently, one hand cradling your face while the other slides around your waist, drawing you closer. You respond instinctively, your fingers tangling in his hair, gently tugging at the strands.

What started as a lesson quickly transformed into something neither of you anticipated. The kiss deepened and you feel yourself being gently guided backward until you're lying on the floor, Jeongin hovering above you, your lips never parting.

When you finally break apart, both breathing heavily, you stare up at him in wonder. His hair is disheveled where your fingers have been, his eyes dark and intense.

"Innie…" you breathe, not knowing what else to say.

Without a word, he dives right back in, capturing your lips with a newfound hunger. There's no hesitation now, his movements filled with a hunger you’ve never seen before — his body pressing down against yours making you gasp into his mouth. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer, any thoughts of keeping distance between you long forgotten.

"There's more I can teach you," he murmurs against your lips, his voice husky with want. Before you can respond, his mouth begins to trail along your jawline, leaving a path of fire in its wake.

"Different types of kisses," he explains between soft pecks along your skin, "are for different sensations."

Your breath hitches as his lips reach the sensitive spot just below your ear. Instinctively, your head tilts to give him better access, your fingers tightening in his hair.

"Like here," he whispers, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. Then his lips press against your neck, gentle at first, then with increasing pressure. The sensation is entirely new to you, electric pulses shooting through your body with each kiss.

"Innie," you gasp, overwhelmed by the feeling.

His hand slides up to cradle the other side of your neck, a small smile forming on his lips at the nick name as his thumb gently strokes your cheek, his kisses become more intense. You feel the gentle graze of his teeth, followed by the soothing warmth of his tongue against your pulse point, a soft moan falling from your lips as he repeated the action.

"Some people," he murmurs against your skin, "are more sensitive here than on their lips." As if to demonstrate, he places an open-mouthed kiss at the space where your neck meets your shoulder, causing you to arch involuntarily against him.

You're lost in sensation, any remaining thoughts about this being just a lesson completely gone. Your hands roam across his back, pulling him closer as he continues his thorough exploration of your neck.

When he finally returns to your lips, the kiss is different—deeper, more confident, as though he's staking a claim. You respond with equal fervor, the taste of him now familiar yet intoxicating.

As Jeongin pulls back slightly to look into your eyes, a small smile plays at his lips. "So," he says softly, "how was your first lesson?"

"I- I don't know what to say," you softly gasped, still recovering your breath.

Placing a soft peck on your lips, he sits up off the ground, gently taking your hand in his. "Come on. Let's go finish our original plans for the day."

Heart beating through your chest, you let him guide you off the ground and through the front door — the heated moment hanging in the air. A small part of you wishing it hadn't ended.

—

The next evening, you were in Stray Kids' dorm, squeezed comfortably between Jeongin and Hyunjin on the large sectional sofa. Chan had insisted on a movie night—something about needing to unwind after their intense practice schedule—and naturally, as Jeongin's best friend, you were included in the invitation.

What the others don't know is how everything changed between you and Jeongin just twenty-four hours ago.

The memory of his lips on yours, on your neck, makes your cheeks flush even now. You've spent most of today exchanging knowing glances, the anticipation of seeing him again had your stomach in knots all day.

"Everyone good with the movie choice?" Chan asks, remote in hand as he navigates through Netflix.

You barely register what film he selected—some action thriller the group has been wanting to watch. All you can focus on is Jeongin's proximity; the subtle scent of his cologne, the warmth radiating from his body next to yours.

"Y/N, want some?" Felix offers you the bowl of popcorn from across the coffee table.

"Thanks," you murmur, reaching for it. As you settle back with the bowl, Jeongin shifts closer, his thigh now pressed firmly against yours.

The lights dim as Chan starts the movie. Under the cover of darkness, Jeongin's hand finds yours, his fingers intertwining with yours between your bodies where no one else can see. Such a simple touch shouldn't send your heart racing, but after last night, everything is different.

Twenty minutes into the film, you're not following the plot at all. How could you, when Jeongin's thumb is tracing lazy circles on the back of your hand? When his breath occasionally tickles your ear as he leans over to whisper some joke about the movie?

By the thirty-minute mark, his hand had moved to your knee, resting there casually as though it belongs. The weight of it burns through the fabric of your jeans.

Halfway through the movie, during a particularly intense action sequence that has everyone's attention fixed on the screen, Jeongin's hand begins to move. Slowly, torturously, his fingers trace upward along your thigh, just far enough to make your breath hitch, gently squeezing the flesh.

You shoot him a warning glance, but the innocent smile he gives you in return is betrayed by the mischievous glint in his eyes. He knows exactly what he's doing.

His hand retreats momentarily when Changbin gets up to refill drinks, but as soon as everyone is settled again, it returns—this time sliding to your inner thigh, his touch feather-light but unmistakably close to where you could feel yourself growing needy. Your body responds immediately, heat pooling low in your abdomen, his hand now venturing into territory that makes your pulse quicken and your thoughts get jumbled up.

When his fingers inch higher, gently squeezing your thigh, you nearly jump. It's too much—the darkened room, his members just feet away, completely oblivious, and Jeongin's touch threatening to unravel you entirely.

"Bathroom," you whisper, standing abruptly. Jisung pauses the movie, looking up at you questioningly.

"Just need a quick bathroom break," you explain, forcing a casual smile. "Don't wait up, I've seen this part."

You slip away from the living room, heart hammering against your ribs as you make your way down the hallway. The cool bathroom tiles are a relief under your feet as you close the door behind you, leaning against it and exhaling slowly.

"Get it together," you mutter to yourself, turning to face the mirror — your reflection showing flushed cheeks and bright eyes.

Splashing cold water on your face, you hear a soft knock at the door.

"Y/N?" Jeongin's voice is low, just audible enough for you to hear. "You okay?"

Taking a deep breath, you open the door just enough to see him standing there, concern etched across his features—though the darkness of his eyes tells another story.

"I'm fine," you whisper. "We should get back before they—"

Before you can finish, Jeongin has slipped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click. The bathroom suddenly feeling much smaller with him in it, the air between you charged with tension.

"What are you doing?" you ask, voice sounding small.

"I couldn't help myself," he admits, closing the distance between you. "Sitting next to you, not being able to really touch you... it's driving me crazy."

"Your members are right outside," you remind him, even as your body betrays you by leaning toward his.

"They're absorbed in the movie," he counters, his hands finding your waist. "Besides, I told them you weren't feeling well and I was checking on you."

"And they believed that?"

A small smile plays at his lips. "Felix gave me a knowing look, but the others are clueless."

Your protest dies in your throat as Jeongin presses you gently against the wall, his body flush against yours. Any restraints from before evaporated into thin air as his lips capture yours in a kiss that's hungry and desperate.

Your hands immediately find their way into his hair, pulling him closer as his tongue meets yours. This isn't the careful instructional kiss from yesterday—this is raw need, months of pent-up desire finally breaking free.

"I've been thinking about this all day," he murmurs against your lips, his hands sliding under the hem of your shirt to touch and squeeze the bare skin at your waist. "About you."

Your response is lost as his mouth moves to your neck, finding the sensitive spots he discovered yesterday. The sensation pulls a soft moan from you, which Jeongin quickly silences with another kiss.

"Quiet," he whispers, a teasing glint in his eye. "Unless you want everyone to hear."

The thought of being caught should terrify you, but instead, it only heightens everything—the racing of your pulse, the heat of his touch, the urgency of your kisses.

His hand slides back to your thigh, higher than he dared in the living room, his fingers tracing patterns that make your breath catch. When he presses his hips against yours, you can feel exactly how much he wants you.

"Innie," you gasp as his lips find a particularly sensitive spot below your ear.

“Fuck, y/n.” he grumbles against your neck, softly nipping and licking at the skin there, eliciting more moans from you.

“Innie, ngh, you’re gonna l-leave marks,” you whined, your defiance falling short as you arched into him.

“We should stop,” he mumbles between open mouthed kisses.

You both knew you should, but neither of you make an effort to move.

A sudden knock on the door makes you both freeze.

"Y/N? Jeongin?" It's Chan's voice. "Everything okay in there? Movie's almost over."

Removing himself from your neck, Jeongin clears his throat. "We're fine, hyung. Y/N just felt a little dizzy. We'll be out in a minute."

"Okay," Chan replies, though you can hear the question in his tone. "We're thinking of ordering food after."

Footsteps retreat down the hallway, and you both release the breath you've been holding.

Jeongin's forehead drops to yours, a small laugh escaping him. "That was close."

"Yeah," you let out breathy laugh. "We should get back."

He nods, stepping back reluctantly, but not before pressing one more lingering kiss to your lips. "This isn't over yet," he promises, his voice low with intention.

As you straighten your clothes and Jeongin attempts to fix his hair, you catch his eye in the mirror. The boy who was just your best friend yesterday now looks at you with an intensity that makes your knees weak.

"Ready?" he asks, hand on the doorknob.

You nod, knowing that while you're about to return to a room full of his members and pretend nothing has changed, everything has. The line you crossed yesterday isn't just crossed—it's been erased entirely, replaced by something new and thrilling and completely uncharted.

As Jeongin opens the door, his hand finds yours for just a moment, giving it a squeeze before letting go. It's a promise of what's to come, once you're alone again.

And suddenly, you can't wait for this movie night to end.

[moody-alcoholic]

This Is Going To Hurt

Part 2 - There's Pleasure In Pain

Summary: Poly141 x reader, established relationship, medic reader, kidnapped reader, mini fic.

CW: Dead dove don’t eat, mentions of torture, suicidal thoughts, childbirth, blood, medical stuff, medical inaccuracies.

AN: Yes I know about the show 'this is going to hurt' I haven't seen it but from what I do know it's good so check it out. Also as an aspiring midwife this was so fun to write.

Part 1

Enjoy <3

You don't know how long it’s been. 

Hours? A day? 

More people have questioned you, with new questions.

‘Where was the convoy heading?’

‘Who give you the intel.’

‘What are the Americans up to?’

Some of the questions you don’t even know the answers to. Makes it all the more easier to ignore them. It feels relentless, like it’s never going to stop. Death would be easier. 

You remember one of the first things you were told in training, a dead medic is no use to anyone. You remember once during a training exercise you ignored Price’s order to fall back, instead you ran into the field to pull someone out. 

It was the angriest you’d seen Price get. He screamed at you in front of everyone, chewed you out with the entire platoon watching. That was the night he told you he loved you, they all did. You’d never seen them get so emotional before, especially over a training exercise. 

‘You’re not allowed to put yourself in danger like we do. You need to keep us alive, and we’ll keep you alive.’ You remember John saying that, the way he apologised for screaming at you even though he was in the right. The sex that night was amazing. 

It makes you smile thinking about them. You’ve been thinking about them alot when you’re not being tortured. You have to assume they’re not coming for you, that's what you were taught. If you’re ever captured; don’t talk, don’t trade, don’t let them break you. Not that you have a choice over the last part, it’s all a test of willpower. 

You wonder how long it will be before they break you. You can handle the waterboarding to some extent, these people are evil though, terrorists, the worst of the worst. They don’t care about human rights, they’re not answering to any UN or even their own countries' laws. These people could do whatever they wanted to you and there is nothing you can do.

You secretly hope they’re coming for you, you’d like to imagine Simon and John tearing up buildings to find you, breaking the rules and hunting down every last person who laid a finger on you. They’re soldiers though, they have orders to follow, other people’s lives are at stake not just yours. 

You’re a liability now. They have no way of knowing what’s happening to you, if you’ve talked or where you are. You hope they know deep down you’ll keep your mouth shut. You’ll keep them safe, even if it is from a distance. 

The door to your room opens and you stand. A man walks in and grips your arm tight. You’ve stopped struggling, there’s no point. He walks you past the room you’re usually taken to, it makes your stomach drop. Somethings wrong, something’s changed. Maybe this is it and they’re going to kill you. 

You hear a woman scream, you dig your heels into the ground. The man says something in Arabic then continues to drag you along. This is bad, there is no way this ends well. You can still hear the woman screaming. Maybe they have someone else they’re torturing. He stops you outside a door and knocks. 

A few seconds later it opens. A man is standing there, he looks young, even with the beard, he’s the only person you’ve seen without his face covered. You hear a woman groan, he moves to the side and you see a woman bent over a table with another woman rubbing her back. 

You’re still taking in the scene when the man in front of you says something then pulls you into the room. The door is closed behind you, you look at him confused. 

“Do you know how to deliver a baby?” He asks, you recognise the accent. He’s the person who patched up your arm. 

“Do I look like I know how to deliver a baby?” 

“No, but you’re a woman and a medic.” He says “She’s Khaled's wife. If this baby dies he’ll kill me.” 

“Great, he's not going to like it if I kill her.” You scoff. This can’t be happening. 

“You’re dead anyway.” He says, it’s like a knife to the heart. Now you want to help even less. The other woman rubbing her back asks something in Arabic. 

“She’s been in labor for 13 hours, I think something is wrong, she’s not progressing.” The man asks. 

“Then take her to a hospital. I don’t know how to do this, I don’t even know where to start.” You say holding your hands up. The woman screams again and it makes your head ring. You look round the room, there’s a bed and some basic supplies but not much. 

The man goes over to a book he has laid out on the bed and brings it over. To your surprise it’s in english. 

“This is all I have, I’ve done everything so far.” You scan over the book and turn the page, you see diagrams of anatomy and pictures of a vaginal birth. You try to think of anything you know that could help. You’ve seen documentaries, you’ve learnt some things, you close your eyes for a second pinching the bridge of your nose. 

“Okay. Get her on the bed.” You say looking over at her. The man orders the women around, as she moves you see supplies on the table. You go over looking for gloves.

“Do you have anything sterile?” You ask, turning to look at him. He shakes his head.

“My bag, you must have taken it when you kidnapped me. It has sterile supplies in it.”

“We’ve used it already.” He says.

“All of it?” You ask shocked. There were enough supplies in there to last at least a week. 

“We needed the supplies.” He says. You sigh pulling on some gloves. What you have will just need to do. You go over to the bed and he follows, the woman's laid back hair is stuck to her face as her friend grips her hand and whispers at her in arabic. 

You let the adrenaline calm you, you ground yourself before you sit on the end of the bad. She looks down at you and grits her teeth through the contraction. Shit, you should be counting them right the time between them. You don’t have a watch you start counting in your head. 

“Do you know how far apart the contractions are?” You ask. He asks the woman who replies. 

“2 minutes sometimes 5 minutes.” He says. That’s good right? Means she might be ready to push soon.

“Has she had a baby before?” You ask. 

“This is her 6th.” 

“6th?” You turn back to look at him. You’re not sure what to do with that info though, Does that make her more or less of a high risk. At least she probably knows what to do by now, she probably knows more than you. 

“Can you ask her to pull her legs up. I need to check internally.” He talks and she nods, her friend helping her get comfortable - well as comfortable as she can be. You’re not sure you’ll be able to tell how dilated she is, it’s more to check if everything feels right. Although, you’re not sure what the vagina of a woman in labor is supposed to feel like. 

You smile at her, you have to be confident, she needs to have faith in you. You’re trying to be as gentle as you can, you doubt she’s had any pain relief. You don’t envy her right now, going through labor for 13 hours like this, in this heat, you do feel sorry for her. 

“I can feel the head.” You say, it gives you a boost of confidence. “Can you ask her if she’s had any urges to push?” 

You look over at her as she nods. You pull your hand out, you look down at blood on your fingers, your stomach sinks. 

“Is that bad?” The man asks looking over.

“I don’t think it’s fresh. It could be normal, she is pushing a baby out.” You say taking the gloves off. You walk over to the table to grab a towel and he joins you.

“What should we be worried about?” He asks in a low voice even though you don’t think the women can speak English. We, there's no we, it makes a lump form in your throat.

“Hemorrhage. I’m assuming you don’t have blood.” You say, he shakes his head. So that's a death sentence. 

“The cord could wrap around the baby's neck.” He says. That could be happening right now and you have no way of knowing. You turn back to look at her. There’s no way to monitor the baby right now, you have no idea if it’s in distress and that could be why the labor is taking so long. 

“If she’s having urges to push, maybe she could try?” You say. 

“What if that makes things worse?” 

“I don’t know you’re not exactly set up for a cesarean.” You say. He sighs, you can tell he’s nervous. You should be nervous but you think the surge of adrenaline is keeping you going. Besides, what's the worst that could happen to you? They kill you? They’re probably planning on that anyway. 

There’s a knock at the door and the man goes over to answer it. You watch him out of the corner of your eye hearing him talk. You look back down at the tools. You pick up another pair of gloves and a towel and go back over to the bed. 

You lay the towel out and pull the gloves on as the door closes and he comes back over to you.

“Have you ever done CPR on a baby before?” You ask him. Prepare for the worst, hope for the best.

“Only in practice.” You turn looking up at him confused. “I’m a doctor, well I was training to be one.” 

“You should be doing this, not me.” You scoff shaking your head

“I wanted to be a neurologist.” He says, you sigh, you don’t care, you’re mad he didn’t tell you. 

“Do you have something to clamp the cord with?” You ask looking over at him, he goes over to the table and comes back with an actual clamp. You take it from him and place it on the bed. The woman groans again and you look over at her.  

“Tell her we’re going to try pushing, after the next contraction.” You say getting yourself comfortable and moving her legs so they’re apart. You feel awkward all of a sudden, this is definitely not something you thought you would ever be doing, especially not here of all places, as a fucking hostage. 

You look down-holyfuckingshit. There’s the head. 

“Push, push, tell her to push.” You call as you move your body to get your hands into position. You’re not really sure what you're going to do. Support the head right? Don’t let it fall out of your hands. You’re shaking as she pushes and the head comes out. You see eyes, a nose and mouth. 

The lips are slightly blue, it makes you hold your breath. 

“Tell her keep going, she’s doing great.” You say. You need her to keep going, you need to get this baby out. As soon as the shoulders are through the rest is easy, it just flops out. You look up at her and smile as you reach over for the clamp. 

“I need another clamp.” You say, you place the baby on a towel. 

Why is it not crying? It should be crying. 

You wipe its face, nose and eyes. Cry dammit, you’ve never wanted to hear a baby cry more than anything. 

“Here.” He says handing you another clamp. You turn the baby on its side and start rubbing his back. You’ve seen people do this on TV before. 

“Come on, come on baby.” You mumble. When it cries you almost start too. You roll it on its back as its crying rings in your ears. You take the clamp out his hand. He has the scissors too, you nod at him. 

The woman is shuffling on the bed, she’s asking something. “She wants to know the sex.” the man asks. 

“B-boy. It’s a boy.” The words catch in your throat the adrenaline is wearing off now, you swallow hard you need to keep it together. Your hands shake as you cut the cord. The other woman has moved over to you holding her hands out. You nod, wrapping the baby and handing it to her.

You hear a knock on the door and the doctor leaves you. Or you guess he’s not really a doctor. You look back down between her legs. You’re not sure what to do now, you’ll have to wait for the after birth right? 

She’s not bleeding out though, that’s a good thing. You’re taking your gloves off looking over at the woman stroking her baby's head. You let yourself smile, holy shit you just delivered a baby. Johnny would love to hear about that. Your smile fades as you remember where you are. 

“They want to take you back.” The doctor says as he comes over to you. You nod looking at the person standing at the door. As you get up the woman calls out for you saying something in Arabic. You look over at the doctor. 

“She says thank you. And she hopes you have a safe journey home.” He looks away from you. You turn and smile at her nodding your head. 

“Congratulations.” You say and go over to the door. 

“Oh by the way.” You say turning back to him. “The placenta, when it comes, make sure it’s complete.” 

“How will I know if it’s complete?” He asks. 

“Maybe there’ll be something in the book.” You say shrugging. He nods as the man in the door reaches out, gripping your arm and pulling you out. 

___

The door to your cell opens. You watch as the doctor comes in carrying a plate of food and a bottle of water. Suddenly your stomach grumbles and your lips smack together as you realise how dry your mouth is. 

He sets them down on the slab of concrete you think is supposed to be a bed. You look over on the plate, there’s flatbread and what looks like hummus. You don’t care what it is, you’re so hungry you’ll eat anything. 

You look back over at him, if you eat you’re breaking down your defences, gathering your strength just so they can torture you more. You are so hungry though, the weaker you get the more likely you are to give up intel you know you shouldn’t. 

“It’s not poisoned or anything.” He says you look over at him, you hadn't even thought about that. 

“How’s the baby?” 

“Good, they’re both good.” He says leaning against the door. 

“Where did you study?” You ask. 

“America, Princeton university.” He says. 

“Fuck me, and you chose to come here?” You scoff. He doesn’t reply, pressing his lips together. 

“You should eat, you might not get another chance. They won’t leave the plate in here.” He says nodding at the food.

“What? I deliver your leader's son and I get some hummus?” You spit at him, you want the food less now. 

“Better than letting you starve.” He says. Starvation would be a pretty horrible way to die. You shuffle over to the plate, opening the water bottle first and trying not to drink it down so fast. You can’t help it though, you don’t even care that it’s warm, it feels like you haven’t had a drink in weeks. 

When you’re done you put it back down letting out  breath. You pick up one of the flatbreads and pull some off dipping it into the hummus. 

“Why’d you leave America?” You ask. 

“I couldn’t stand it. I thought it was the way to a better life. Then I saw all the abominations, I had to leave.” He says, you raise an eyebrow at him. 

“Why are you here fighting in a war that isn’t yours to fight?” He asks, theres hostility in his voice. 

“You keep blowing shit up in our country.” You say as you dip more bread. 

“You’re special forces or something aren’t you?” It makes you stop chewing, you look up at him. 

“I’m a medic.” You say.

“No ones ever lasted through torture the way you do. Most of them give up after a few hours, or a day.” He says. So it’s been longer than a day, you don’t know if you should be glad or not. It’s been over 24 hours and they still haven't come. 

You look down at the food, suddenly it’s sitting heavy in your stomach. You remember the feeling of ingesting all the water and the feeling of it coming back out when your stomach’s full. You put the bread down and push the plate away. 

“My name is Sayyid.” He says bending down to pick up the plate. 

"I'm not going to tell you my name." You say. He nods pressing his lips together.

"Good luck" He says, nodding and leaving the room. You don't need luck, you need to get the hell out of here.

___

The car ride went in silence. No witty remarks from Johnny. There’s no filling the deafening silence, the only noise is coming from the engine and the wheels turning on the dirt roads. 

48 hours that's how much time Lawell could realistically buy them, if Shepherd was going to send shadows after them they have to move quick. Ghost pulls the car up to the building. 

This is the closest they can get to the next town without being spotted, there's an al-qatala base there. That’s where they’ll get intel, that's where they’ll find out where you are. It’s too late now though, the journey to get here was long. 

“Gaz, Soap clear the place, we’ll wait here.” Price says as Ghost turns the engine off. There’s no reply, just the sound of doors opening and closing. Price watches them walk round the car and over to the front door. The building will be empty, as soon as they’ve confirmed that though, they can hide the car. 

“I shouldn't have put her at the back.” Price says as he watches Gaz and Soap enter the building. 

“It was the right call.” Ghost replies. Price sighs, yeah it was, he didn’t expect things to go so wrong though. Ghost's hand lands on his thigh, he looks over at him. He can see the softness in his eyes. 

“We’ll get her back, John.” 

“I know, I just hope we’re not too late.” 

Banners by plum98

[wojtekaneko]

Thank you @kasztanek86 @rainbowhedgehog123 @shishkas @astheflowersgrow for all your malevolent sweets suggestions from my last post! Here they are, all of these were very fun to draw c:

[graciedollie]

Sevika or Grayson x fem reader who dolls up on the daily basis and feels insecure about their bare face

Bare Beauty

𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚

You and Sevika been talking for a good while now—maybe a couple weeks or so—and she’s never seen you without your makeup off. Whenever she saw you, always dolled up with beautifully done makeup. Each and every time. It was a late night for you, chilling at home while watching some series that you’ve been binge watching for the last week and snacking on some of your favorite snacks.

While being in the comfort of your own place, you didn’t wear any makeup and just let yourself be. Mind you, you wanted to show Sevika the real you, but you weren’t just quite ready for that, so you just simply always dolled your face up when you two would go on dates and when you’re at home, that would come off—unless you would randomly do your makeup to take some photos to her whenever you both missed each other. Other than that, it was always makeup around her.

You say there in your couch with a blanket draped over you snuggly, face free from foundation, lipstick/lipgloss, mascara/false lashes, and highlighter. Your face had some blemishes since you’re human—you’re gonna have them regardless—and had little pimple patches across your cheek, forehead, and chin since your skin did NOT wanna cooperate. There were times you felt insecure about your bare face since you were used to the makeup, but even still, you couldn’t help it. Ignoring that gnawing gut in your stomach, you went back to watching your show until there was a knock on the door—thinking it was your doordash deliverer.

Happily getting up, you dashed over to the door, excited to be greeted with savory smell of your food—only to be met with Sevika looking at you, holding your doordash order in her hand. You nearly felt like crawling into a corner and dying. Your eyes widened as you took in her silver eyes peering into yours while also taking in your face, seeing that it was a rare sight to see you out of makeup. “Sevika…I didn’t know you were coming over today…”

“I know, but I decided to come anyway—by the way, your food was left on your doorstep.” She murmured lowly, nonchalantly at that as if you were just bare face right in front of her. She raised a brow at your bewildered expression, “what???” You shook your head out of your daze, crossing your arms as you just shrugged. “Nothing, I—don’t you see me without any makeup? I look hideous, Sev.”

She stared at you as if you were dumb before scoffing, sliding past you through the door and setting the bag of food on the coffee table before turning to you as you shut the door. “You don’t look ridiculous, love. I was wondering when I was gonna see ‘you’ out of all that stuff you were nearly wear 99% of the time we go somewhere.” You rolled your eyes at her snarky comment, earning a cocky smirk from her as she settled on the couch while pulling you close to her.

“Oh fuck off…i’m serious though, Sev. I literally have pimples big as tits on my face—i can barely cover them with my patches!”

“So? You don’t even look like shit without your makeup, love—I can assure you that you look absolutely perfect in my eyes…” Her arm wrapped around you waist as she flashed you a warm smile, seeing a peek of her tooth gap. She placed a warm kiss to your forehead before chuckling lowly, “yeah, maybe the patches aren’t doin you any justice, baby…”

“Sevika!”

𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐬𝐨𝐧

It was a peaceful night as you were winding down from the little outing you had earlier during the day. It was nice, of course, but you missed your wife dearly and would send her photos of you—all of which you had your face dolled with your usual makeup. Now, Grayson seen you a little of times with your makeup off, but not fully since you would try to do light makeup still. That was cut short when you started to notice pimple decorate your face—yeah, no more of that.

The house felt empty without Grayson since she was working late doing her respective duties as usual and you understood that, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t miss her. She’s your wife, so why would you not? You sat at your vanity while wiping off the leftover makeup, leaving you in a bare-pale-pimple covered face. You didn’t really like being bare faced, especially whenever you would be around Grayson.

Yeah, of course she always made sure to assure you that you were beautiful as the moon is in the sky countless of times, but you couldn’t grasp that. You slumped back in the chair as you sighed, leaning on your forehead before your ears picked up the sound of the door creaking open and heavy footsteps following to where you were. There she was, standing in all her glory, Grayson looked at you with a warm gaze, taking in the small frown etched on your lips.

“There’s my gorgeous wife…”

You couldn’t help but dry laugh at her, knowing she was just tryna boost your mood and also meant it as well. “Mhm, i’m everything but that right now, baby..” She rolled her eyes briefly as she stalked over to you, rubbing your shoulders as she placed a kiss to your cheek before finding her way to your lips—earning a hum of approval.

“Don’t be so down, love. You’re still precious in my eyes—makeup or not. Yes, you look gorgeous with your lovely makeup, but I also adore you without it. Wanna know why?”

“Why?”

“Because that’s who I really fell in love with on that faithful day when you were rushing out and bumped into me, panicking that you were running late and didn’t even have any makeup on..”

god this woman was your everything.

You turned to her with a small pout of adoration and thoughtfulness at her words, taking you back to the memory you first met. “Baby, you remembered..”

“How could I not remember the time I fell in love with my world?”

hope you enjoyed bbys!! (sorry if this lowkey cringey or corny and short!!☹️)

taglist 🏷️ @thesevi0lentdelights @snugglybunny11 @maneskinwh0re @ivorydevil @jolenes-doppelganger @pavelyasz @supalcina

[muletia]

Heya!! I LOVE your pocket AU and your OP obsession is so damn relatable ^-^!! I love reading and re-reading… and RE-re-reading your work and everyday I look at your account at least once! You’re so cool and your work is just *genuine chef’s kiss*

Now… I never ask anything to anybody… requests aren’t really something I do so I’m just gonna go for it… in your pocket spouse AU.. imagine a human who’s like SUPER talented in art… mostly traditional art… and he/she/they become a pocket spouse… and ONE DAY… this human draws their spouses as a beautifully drawn masterpiece… I wonder how they’d react… (I’m mostly asking for TFOne… but I don’t mind if you put TFP OP in there lol)

I can imagine Sentinel finding this super cute and bragging about it, even asking his spouse for more… buying his little lover the stuff it would need to create more masterpieces like that…

I only have an idea for Sentinel… but I also wanted to know how YOU’D think they’d react… anyway I think I yapped a lot… idc I love your work enough to make it worth yapping about! Which is a RARE occurrence even for me.

- With luv, Meg >:3

hello! and kdbskvu thank you so much for the kind words!!! <3 hope you'll enjoy these short headcanons <3

[tfo] sentinel x human!reader [tfo] b-127 x human!reader [tfo] elita one x human!reader [tfp] optimus prime x human!reader

word count: 1200

Sentinel is thrilled.

Finally, someone has managed to capture his beauty and magnificence in art, naturally, without exaggeration. The way you have transferred his image onto paper is truly admirable, and in his optics, it is a masterpiece. Not only because he is the inspiration behind your artwork, of course. Though he will undoubtedly go on and on about himself, criticizing every tiniest detail and pointing out proportions, he is still genuinely happy in his own egotistical and manic way that his adorable pocket spouse has gifted him such a delightful present.

Naturally, your painting will be displayed in a very visible place so that every bot can admire how talented Sentinel’s human is, and so the self-proclaimed ruler of Iacon can boast about you and your skills. After all, you are his pocket spouse, you must be the best, and your artistic talent must match the grandiosity of his ego.

One portrait/artwork will definitely not be the last. The moment Sentinel discovers that you have a knack for transferring his likeness onto paper in such an exquisite way, he will definitely ask for more. This time, however, he will suggest that he be your live model to make it easier for you to capture his beauty. And yes, he will be striking different poses (you ARE drawing him like one of your French girls), expecting you to capture every single one. You’re going to have a lot of fun with him. Of course, your patience will be tested, he will underestimate how long a single drawing session can take, so expect some hurrying up, but his nagging will fade into the background when he praises your skills, staring at the drawings with a kind of genuine admiration you have never seen in him before.

You mentioned traditional art, so Sentinel will definitely find a way to scan his portrait onto his datapad. He glances at it whenever he doesn’t have access to the physical copy, or simply when he starts missing you while dealing with the utterly boring (and manipulative) business of ruling a city under his forged Prime title.

And yes, you will never run out of art supplies with him around. Sentinel will make sure you have the most exquisite drawing tools, ensuring you never run out. You must keep creating such magnificent works of art for him!

"Oh Primus, oh Primus, this is for me? Really?! Oh, I’m so happy! No one has ever drawn anything for me before! Thank you, thank you so much!" dies

To say that B-127 is happy with your drawing would be an understatement. He is ecstatic, absolutely over the moon that you willingly did something for him. Ugh, his sweet pocket spouse! He will literally be ugly crying while yapping about how much he loves you, how beautifully you drew him, and how grateful he is for such an amazing gift.

As thanks, he will smother your entire face with kisses (still sobbing and wailing) before pulling you into his chassis, holding your artwork in his other servo, unable to take his optics off it.

"Is this really how you see me?" He looks so cool, so good. Whatever self-image he has built in his processor, whether it’s B-127 or Badassatron, you have managed to perfectly capture it on paper. And he will not let you forget it. Will tell you this the first, second, and fiftieth time, because Bee will not shut up about praising your skills for a long time after receiving his portrait.

Sometimes, you catch him staring at the drawing, wearing an enormous, dreamy smile while his digit gently strokes the paper, careful not to damage it.

At some point, he will shyly ask if you could make another drawing — but this time, he really wants you to be in it too. Whether it’s you sitting on his shoulder or holding hands, B-127 wants you to be in every part of his life, always and forever. And that includes a snapshot of your life together, captured on paper <3

Elita’s reaction may not be as explosive as Bee’s or Sentinel’s, but internally, she is barely holding herself back from bouncing off the walls with excitement. If she could, she would staple your masterpiece to her spark.

When you show her your drawing, Elita takes her time. She studies it carefully, searching for details, memorizing every single feature, immersing herself in human art. The silence as she does this is deadly and nerve-wracking — but then, a simple and meaningful, "It’s beautiful." and you know you did a good job. That’s a rare compliment from her, after all.

Elita doesn’t praise often. She doesn’t like sugarcoating things. So when she does compliment you, it’s like winning the lottery.

On the surface, she may seem indifferent, and her reaction may come across as cold or ungrateful — but inside, she is overjoyed that you chose to spend your time capturing her likeness on paper. And in such an amazing way!

This is an especially key moment in your relationship because, at first, Elita didn’t understand the hype around pocket spouses. You were assigned to her, not her choice, and it took her time to warm up to you. But this gift, this drawing, ignites little sparks of a growing bond. A bond that, if nurtured properly, could become something truly special.

Optimus is deeply touched that you chose to spend your time drawing him, but he is also intrigued. So this is how you see me type beat.

You give him a new perspective on himself — one that he has never thought about before. For the first time, he can look at himself through your vision of him. Maybe… just maybe, it will help his self-esteem a little?

Of course, he won’t let it show. His reaction will be humble, but he is happy. Immensely so. It is a great honor to receive something from you, especially something given from the heart, not out of obligation. His gratitude won’t be overly expressive as words suddenly seem to get caught in his intake, blocked by the overwhelming emotions — but he will make sure you know how thankful he is. That he sees how much effort you put into this, and that your artwork is masterful.

He will definitely hang it above his desk in his habsuite. A risky and irresponsible choice, because Optimus will constantly catch himself pausing his work to admire and analyze the masterpiece you created for him.

He is still working on understanding human art and its meaning, but in this case, he is certain that you have done an incredible job.

He will try to repay you. He is a busy mech, always with so much on his servos, but for you, he will always carve out some free time to prepare a gift in return. And as an old-fashioned mech with a romantic spark, he would write you a poem.

It will be cryptic, intricate — just like his overwhelming and tangled feelings for you. But it will be a glimpse into his spark. A moment of unveiling, revealing a part of himself he keeps hidden.

He will read it to you in private, in a quiet, intimate place, hoping that you will cherish his love almost as much as he cherishes the gift of your artwork <3

[self-winding]

Get that "debut" moniker away from your name. Prove you can sell your shit and keep working.

I'd disagree with this part. Being a "debut author" actually works in your favor, marketing-wise. Because you're the shiny, exciting new thing. Past publishing credentials are only a plus if you're a well-known name with a following.

Source: Been published by two Big Five houses. Before I was picked up by an agent I had published a number of novels and novellas (mostly romance/erotica) through a series of digital-only indie publishers. I made some money (albeit not a lot) through these titles, but they did not in any way help me from the angle of getting an agent or being picked up by a publisher, because I wasn't a big name, and because the book that got me an agent was YA so there wasn't much of a crossover readership.

I don't recommend self-publishing unless you have an existing platform (such as a YouTube channel) with a lot of followers. Otherwise it's like firing a t-shirt cannon into outer space, and it's also easy to waste a lot of money on advertising yourself and SEO stuff. There are so many stories of self-published writers spending hundreds or thousands on advertising and getting like, five sales as a result. Like, self-published books do occasionally get popular and go viral but these are extreme statistical outliers. Unfortunately it is just really hard to make money on books these days. Even big publishers kind of suck at it. Many books don't earn out their advances.

I do agree with the part about how important comps are. Agents and editors don't like to take risks, they are mainly trying to jump on existing trends. You ideally want titles from within the last three years to compare to yours. They shouldn't be obscure but they should also not be too big; like, comparing your book to Harry Potter or GoT or LOTR won't get you anywhere. Go to your local library, look at the new stuff, find books that are roughly in the subgenre you are aiming at, books with covers that look sort of how you imagine your cover looking, read them, and if they fit, use them as comps when you query. Say specifically what it is about those books that overlap with yours. i.e. the aesthetic, the setting, themes, etc.

Editing to add: yes, being in the right social circles does help you get published (which is bad for me because I'm a hermit) but I'd argue that knowing the market and the specific market niche you fit into and being able to write a good piece of marketing copy (i.e. your query letter) which displays your understanding of market forces is actually just as important as social status and more important than the "objective quality" of your writing. And while it can be soul-crushing and involve some creative compromises, it is a skill that you can actually learn, one that will concretely impact your chances.

I find it personally offensive how many bad writers can get published so easily.

[spiraling-stardust]

I have a habit of imagining ways that act 5 could have gone differently, and in doing that I ended up coming up with this AU. Basically, Siffrin is a ghost, and he and Mal du Pays are following the party and occasionally helping them out from behind the scenes as they deal with the aftermath.

During the fight against Mal du Pays in act 5, the rest of the party doesn’t make it in time, and Siffrin gives up on his wish and kind of just. Dies. For real this time. Mal du Pays takes form, and then it finishes off the King itself and runs off right before the party arrives to see what’s left. It ends up encountering Siffrin who is now a ghost, and starts following them around, so I guess they’ll be watching the rest of the party together now.

Mal du Pays is… More tame in this AU? Still a little shit, but not as much now that it actually took form. It’ll say some stuff that Siffrin would definitely not take well, but it’s not necessarily being intentionally malicious, it’s just in its nature as a Sadness. Like how a cat doesn’t shred furniture to be mean, it’s just a cat. Still sucks though. Since “homesickness” is the feeling at its core, it often becomes fixated on anything potentially related to “home”, and since family was also like “home” to Siffrin but still felt impossible to keep, this resulted in Mal’s interest in the rest of the party and its unwillingness to attack them and only them… and also its clinginess. The damned thing will not go away.

Siffrin is still very much coming down from the act 5 shitstorm at the start. They didn’t learn to talk about their problems, and they’re still under the impression that their family hates them. And on top of that, he’s actually genuinely dead now! He can see through himself, he always seems to glow a little, and he has to concentrate just to pick something up. Eventually some of these problems will improve, either through practice or by observing his family, but it’s definitely a lot to recover from and adjust to… And it’ll take awhile since he’s also gotta keep the Sadness he created from attacking strangers and deal with the stuff it pulls on him.

The rest of the party is still dealing with the aftermath, and have no clue they’re being watched (yet). Loop sort of joins the group in Siffrin’s place, and there’s a lot of 2hats-related issues from that (the whole situation is complicated, they didn’t even want to be there but stardust had to go and die and… oh. Maybe they still have a place among them as someone else? Cue the spiral of internal conflict). Lots of pain and suffering to go around, but I promise it’s not all just misery!! There’s some shenanigans, comfort, and even some fluff mixed in there! I swear! In fact there’s a pretty good amount of shenanigans. An actor joins the stage crew… Chaos may ensue hehehe

[jabberwockypie]

So I'm having a hysterectomy on March 10th. I've wanted to do this for literally the last 20 years because my periods have always been terrible, and I finally have a doctor who's like "Ah, you are an Adult who can have Bodily Autonomy and Make Your Own Decisions About Which Organs You Want Yeeted."

I am thus asking for some help with some expenses related to surgical recovery, etc.

It'd be really helpful to have more wiggle room in the budget for getting take-out if I'm not feeling up to cooking or managing stairs, easier food I can ask Lynati to heat up for me and bring upstairs - stuff like that.

The big goal, though, is that after I recover from surgery (and am no longer at risk of bleeding on things) I'd like to replace my mattress. My mattress sucks. It has collapsed in on itself, and this is REALLY not good for my back and it hurts.

Astraea actually thinks the mattress is fabulous because it had a huge divot in the middle that is fully 6 1/2" deeper than the regular height of the mattress, so she can snug up in it and be in a little fort. She will, in fact, bite me, if I try to move her out of it.

Help me break my poor little kitty cat's heart, and help me to get a new mattress, please?

I'm not currently in dire, desperate straits, but I am disabled and on a fixed income, and everything is expensive and stressful, especially with *gestures* The Current Political Situation.

Also my friend Arin keeps saying "This is Astraea's hole, it was made for her" and I would like her to stop referencing that short story, and she will only do this if I replace the mattress.

If this is something you can help with without hurting yourself, I would really appreciate it.

The Paypal address is arintradeditforcookies (at) gmail (dot) com

Thank you.

[miange1]

if your requests are open , may i request a donnie fic where the reader (male) is kinda very feminine and donnie is internally homophobic but its less because the reader is feminine? im not really good at expressing myself sorry 🙏🏻🙏🏻 also smut if possible but fluff is okau too LOVE YOUR FICS MUAH ignore if your reqs are closed

DONNIE DARKO

feminine male reader(as in looks), this is short, donnie trying to make reader seem like a girl, it kinda works, bottom reader, donnie being a weirdo, fantasizing, oblivious reader, dirty thoughts but no actual sex, masterbation, other stuff idk

note: steady callin my phone i don told u b4 dat it's ova lea me loneeeeeee😩

you were pissing him off. it's not that you did anything to overall upset him, you were just..you. and to him, there was nothing wrong with that but at the same time everything was wrong with that.

when he first saw you, he accidentally mistook you for a girl who had grabbed the wrong uniform. was all the more confused when you came into the bathroom and started using the urinal. his crush for you instantly shattered, but only for a bit.

he had been confused and angry. why weren't you a girl? why did you have to be a guy?

he was starting to weird himself out, even when he'd found out sometimes certain thoughts would sneak through.

if you looked like a girl, then you'd take his dick like one wouldn't you? yeah, that made sense..

he'd think about it a whole bunch. think about his hands squeezing at your waist and plunging himself inside of you to make you cry out all for him.

your voice was beautiful, sounded like a girls too. "morning donnie!" god, why'd you have to do that? turn him on like that, you had to be doing it on purpose.

it was worse when you'd get close to him, made it look like you were flirting with him. "dude don't get so close man..that's weird." his heart would twinge each time your face would fall, and you would apologize and move away from him.

'fuck, fuck why did i say that?'

the thought of being gay was just too unnatural to him, he couldn't handle it.

after gym class it was worse. when you'd take your shirt off he could smell you even more. he saw your lips moving but heard none of it. his nose would twitch whilst he tried so hard not to stick his nose to your neck and inhale deeply. you smelled so good..like a warm bakery.

"donnie? you listening?" "yeah, keep talking.."

he took one of your clothes once, kept it and never washed it so the scent would stay on. he'd be obsessed with your smell, jack himself off. "pretty..so pretty.." even when he came all over his palm he couldnt stop, couldn't stop thinking of your body pressing against his.

the way your hair shaped your face, those soft features you had just made him want to fuck your face and make you take it down your throat.

"donnie, did you accidentally take my shirt? you know, the one with some cartoon character on it." he'd shut his locker, shrugging like he had absolutely no clue.

"mm..no, not sure i do."