#i just have to figure out what i want to DO about it. and also how the hell to explain it

[sceletaflores]

I COULD PLAY THE DOCTOR (I CAN CURE YOUR DISEASE)

pair: logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 4.1k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, established relationship, logan's pov, written with origins!logan in mind, nat veering dangerously closer to a/b/o territory with every passing day, rut cycles, oral sex (fem!receiving), fingering (fem!receiving), multiple orgasms, gratuitous amounts of dirty talk, p in v, rough sex, biting, hair pulling, size kink, belly bulging, pussy pronouns, one (1) single use of the word daddy, scent kink, pain kink, breeding kink ofc, knotting (don’t look at me…), squirting, porn w/ plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: don’t look at me…i don’t know how many times i swore up and down i’d never write something like this but i’m a confirmed liar apparently so…here. i mean i just figured i'm in a rut artistically so therefore the only answer is writing logan in a rut physically...i can do what i want and i don't need to explain myself or my horny thoughts. also, i debated posting this in the wake of everything that's gone down over the past two days that is still escalating and will continue to escalate in the coming weeks, but i think everyone could use a little escape from how scary things may seem right now. take a break from all the terrifying news sites and read about logan wanting to breed you :) kisses!

divider by angel @saradika-graphics!

it's been another six months, and logan needs your help...

The burn starts on the walk home from work, a pulse of heat deep in Logan's gut that grows with every step.

It spreads slowly, sinking into his muscles and seeping up his spine as he rounds the last corner, your place less than a block away now.

It caught him off guard this time, an itch burying itself under his skin earlier in the day only to get worse and worse as he worked.

He usually knew the signs well enough to feel them start creeping in, and he was dead sure it wasn't for another few weeks.

Apparently, he was wrong.

Logan’s jaw clenches as he picks up his pace, every nerve ending in his body straining to break into a full blown sprint at the thought of you, all alone and waiting for him.

His fingers curl into tight fists, nails pressing into his palms to ground himself, though it’s hardly enough. The faint scent of you drifts up from his shirt, not even a long day at the lumberyard enough to drown it out.

By the time he reaches your door, his heartbeat is a heavy thud in his ears, syncing with the building ache of desire wracking through his body like the earth rattling boom of a raging thunder storm.

He fumbles through getting his key into the lock, hands unsteady as he tugs the door open with a little more force than necessary and finally steps inside.

The second he closes the door behind him, the heat surges, thrumming through his veins and flooding his chest. Your scent fills the air completely, stronger now, wrapping around him so thick and sweet.

"Darlin'?" His voice comes out rougher than he intends, but he's beyond caring.

Your voice floats from the other room, casual, warm enough to send a jolt through him. Logan drops his axe from his shoulder, leaning it against the door as he starts down the familiar path to your bedroom.

You're spread out on his side of the bed—oblivious, curled up with a book, wrapped in one of the flannels he must have left the last time he stayed over.

Just the sight of you does something to him, like a match dragged against a strike pad, damned on setting everything ablaze.

You glance up, and the soft smile on your lips falters as you catch sight of him.

Logan knows what he must look like, his eyes all dark and predatory, chest heaving as he rakes his hungry gaze over you like a wolf watches a lamb grazing too close to its den.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just stalks toward you with a purpose that’s as undeniable as the heat pouring off him in waves.

The book slips from your fingers, forgotten, as you lean back, the small sound of your breath hitching under the weight of his gaze is music to his ears.

Logan pauses at the edge of the bed, towering over you, letting himself drink in the way you look. So soft and serene, like some kind of invitation that begs him closer. His flannel draped loosely over your shoulders–shrouding you in his scent. 

The urge to pounce on you fights against his normal instinct to savor every second, to draw it out until the heat pooling in his gut becomes downright unbearable.

“Been thinkin’ about you all damn day,” he mutters, voice thick and dark as molasses, rough from restraint he’s quickly losing. His knuckles brush against your thigh, then tighten, holding you in place as he leans down, his breath hot against your neck. “Thinkin’ about what I was gonna when I finally got my hands on you.”

Your skin blooms with warmth beneath his touch, and he grins against your neck, the edge of his teeth grazing you just enough to make you squirm. He growls low in his throat, that itch he’s been fighting nearly all day clawing its way up to the surface with a vengeance.

The primal urge inside of him screaming to claim claim claim take take take mate mate mate breed breed breed.

You tilt your head to the side with a soft sigh, freeing up more space for him to nose along your skin. “Is it time?”

Logan's breath catches as your question hangs in the air, thick with anticipation. The soft simplicity of it ignites the wildfire burning in his gut, every ounce of restraint slipping away like sand through his fingers.

“Yeah, baby,” he growls, slipping his fingers under the worn cotton of your shorts, feeling the bare skin beneath. “It’s time.”

You shift, hands going to the buttons of his flannel like you’re going to take it off. Logan stops you, taking your wrists in his free hand.

“Don’t,” he breathes, shaking his head hard enough that his hair flows with it. “Leave it on.”

The thought of you covered in his scent, of his scent mixing with yours to claim you on a level only he can discern sends his mind buzzing.

You look up at him with those wide, trusting eyes, and something in him cracks wide open. The tenderness of your gaze pulls at him, like a tether pulling him back from the edge, but that heat still smolders in his blood, fierce and unyielding.

Logan runs his thumb along the racing pulse of your wrist before he drops them. His hands venture lower, fingers pressing against the inside of your thigh, tracing a deliberate path that makes your body tremble under his touch.

You let out a shuddering breath, the scent of your arousal swirling through the air is enough to make him crave more.

In one rough tug, Logan yanks you towards the edge of the bed as he falls to his knees. Your hips held tight in his hands as he lurches forward, burying his nose in the soft junction where your leg and inner thigh meet.

He inhales deep, greedy lungfuls of your scent. A guttural growl rumbles through his chest, his eyes screwing shut at the sheer amount of too much that courses through him. He feels dizzy with it, high on the pheromones pumping from you in waves.

You’re soaked already, the wet fabric of your shorts melded to the shape of your cunt. He can’t help but run his nose along the slick seam of you, reveling in the way your legs twitch on either side of his head, in the short gasp you let out.

“Logan.” Your voice is nothing but a mewl, pleading and desperate.

“Missed you,” he rasps, his voice rough, almost unrecognizable. The edge of need in him makes his hands shake, sliding up your thighs, urging them even further apart as he settles between them.

Logan’s fingers dig into your skin, he lets his thumbs brush up, hooking them into the waistband of your shorts to tug them down your legs in one sharp yank. He groans at the sight of you completely bare, no underwear.

“Fuck, look at you,” he grates, his thumb coming down to slip through your dripping cunt. Your hole flutters desperately around him, needy little clenches like it’s trying to suck him in. “She’s all ready for me, huh? Been waiting for me to come home and give her some attention?”

“Please,” you whimper, your voice thick with longing, the sound going straight to his head, clouding his thoughts. 

Logan’s pulse races as he watches your body arch instinctively toward his touch, the desperate need in your eyes igniting the raw urges coursing through him.

He can’t deny you; he never could. You’re a feast laid out before him, and he’s starving.

Logan leans closer, letting his tongue flick out to taste you like he’s wanted to since he left for work this morning. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, closing his eyes and losing himself in the moment. He licks a broad stripe from your entrance to your clit, savoring the way your body responds, the way your legs tremble and your hips twitch against his mouth, seeking more. “Tastes like fuckin’ heaven, sweetheart.”

The taste of you is intoxicating—sweet and tangy, flooding his senses with every drag and swirl of his tongue.

Logan can’t help but moan against you, the sound vibrating through your body as he dives deeper, his nose nudging against your slick entrance as he shakes his head back and forth like an animal—rubbing the plush skin of your inner thighs red and raw with each rough drag of his coarse beard.

Every flick of his tongue sends a shockwave through you, and he revels in the sounds you make—each whimper, each moan, a siren’s call urging him deeper. He laves his tongue around your clit, sucking it gently, pulling at it with his lips as you writhe beneath him, begging for more. 

He keeps your thighs spread wide, two strong hands pinning them to the mattress so he can devour you just the way you deserve, the sharp dig of your heels into his shoulders only spurs him on.

Your hands bury themselves in his hair, tugging him closer, and he groans into you, letting his tongue delve deeper, seeking out every bit of sweetness he can coax from you. 

It’s pure sin, each sound you make, each shiver that runs through you as he takes his time, drinking you down like a man starved. 

The ache in him intensifies, his own need growing, pulsing. He’s hard, has been hard since he walked through the front door.

His cock strains against the zipper of his jeans, need pulsing in time with each pump of his blood through his shaft, circling around the base, threatening to expand even without the tight grip of your pussy surrounding him. His hips jerk up on their own volition, desperate for any friction.

“Just like that, Logan,” you gasp, voice breathy and trembling with pleasure. 

The way you say his name—raw, desperate—makes his blood run hotter. He grips your thighs tighter, anchoring you to the bed as he drinks you in, wanting to lose himself in you completely.

Logan pulls away just long enough to catch his breath, looking up at you with lust-drunk eyes, drinking in the sight of your sweaty cheeks, your heavy-lidded gaze, the way your chest rises and falls with each shuddering breath.

The pulse of his cock intensifies, urging him to speed things along. The base desire of his own instincts is getting harder and harder to ignore under your adoring stare.

He feeds his fingers into your clenching hole with no warning, a satisfied smirk tugging his lips up at your sharp gasp. He runs his tongue along his bottom lip, the entire lower half of his face still shining with your essence.

Your cunt swallows him, two thick fingers sinking into the velvety heat like it’s nothing.

Logan groans as he feels you clench around him, your walls fluttering and drawing him in deeper. “That’s it, baby,” he mutters, his voice hoarse with need. “So fuckin’ ready for me, so ready for daddy’s fingers in your pussy.”

Your mouth drops open in another devastatingly desperate noise, your hands twist his hair roughly, soft breasts rising and falling each time you gasp for air. The dim light of the sunset filters in through the blinds, highlighting the curves of your body, slick and shining with a thin sheen of sweat.

Every clench of your walls around his fingers shoots a thrill straight to his cock, making him ache with the urge to bury himself inside you. The overwhelming need to take you completely, to mark you and fill you, pulses through his veins until he feels like he might explode.

But he’s not done tasting you yet. Not until you’re practically dripping onto the sheets.

He lowers his mouth back to your core, sucking your clit into his mouth as his fingers pump faster. The sudden intensity makes your thighs shake around his head, and he grins against you. He wants to see you fall apart—wants to feel it.

“Logan—please, I…” You can barely get the words out, voice breaking as your whole body strains against him, desperate and needy.

The wet slap of his palm against your spit soaked cunt is loud in the quiet of your bedroom, blending with the loud keens that fall from your parted lips. He crooks his fingers, rubbing at that soft, spongy spot inside of you.

“Come on,” he mutters, slick lips brushing against your clit as he speaks. “Give it to me, baby. Show me you're ready for my cock."

He drags the sharp edge of his canine against your pulsing clit with barely any pressure, and you're coming.

Your whole body tenses, back bowing off the mattress as you let out a broken cry of his name. The bite of your nails digging into his scalp feels harsh enough to draw blood, a feeble attempt at grounding yourself against the onslaught of pleasure. 

Your trembling thighs tighten around his shoulders, gripping him like a vice as your shaking cunt gushes around his fingers. Logan groans at the feeling, eyes slipping shut as you drench his wrist and chin in your juices.

Even then, he doesn’t let up, fingers pumping relentlessly as he draws out every pulse, every aftershock of your climax, every tiny spray of your release splashing against his wrist. 

He’s lost in the feel of you—slick and trembling under his hands, the scent of your release filling his lungs, thick and intoxicating.

You slump back against the bed, body limp and spent. His own need is a driving, aching force now, clawing at his insides, demanding more.

He slips his fingers free from your dripping heat, dragging them through the wetness coating his chin as he licks them clean with a growl, savoring every taste.

“Good girl,” he purrs, voice thick with pride and satisfaction as he pulls back, leaving your thighs twitching in the wake of his touch. But he still isn’t finished. Not even close.

You barely have time to catch your breath before Logan crawls up the bed, his eyes locked on you, pupils blown with need. He looms over you, hands planting on either side of your head. His cock grinds against you through the rough denim, and you can feel just how thick and hard he is, throbbing through the fabric, demanding to be freed.

With a low groan, he shifts his hips, dragging his bulge along your soaked cunt, sending another jolt of pleasure racing through you. His hands are all over you, gripping your waist, hot and possessive.

“Feel that?” he asks, pressing his lips the wild flutter of your pulse, the need to sink his teeth in the soft skin of your neck raises the hair on the back of his neck. “That’s what you do to me baby. Got me hard as a fuckin’ rock, just aching to be inside you.”

Your arms circle his shoulders, clawing at the fabric off his shirt. “Need you inside me, Logan. Please, want it so bad.”

The pure need lacing your words, your scent calling out to him, the way he can feel the front of his jeans getting soaked through with the slick pouring from your cunt all pull him deeper into the recesses of his hind-brain. 

The mounting desperation to stuff you full of his cock finally reaches a fever pitch.

With a deep growl, Logan rears back as far as he can bear, just enough to tear his shirt over his head before he fumbles with the heavy buckle of his belt to free his aching cock.

He shoves his jeans down, boxers quickly following until there’s nothing separating him from the cool air of your bedroom. His cock springs free, hot and flushed an angry red color, drooling from the tip enough that it drips down to stain the pretty floral sheets of your bed.

Your eyes zero in on him, mouth dropping open at the sight. His cock so heavy it doesn’t curve upward to slap against his stomach, instead it hangs down to sway between his thighs as he moves closer. 

Your legs spread as he nears, slick covered thighs parting to make room for him to slot between them. So obedient, so good, so well trained.

Logan takes himself in his hand, nearly wincing at the blazing temperature of his skin. He secures his hand around the base, squeezing where his knot threatens to pop before he’s even got in you.

He slips the angry head through the folds of your cunt, slapping it against your clit with a wet ‘thwack’ sound. He can feel the way it twitches and shakes, just as desperate as him.

“Look at that,” he mutters darkly, eyes glued to where he’s laid his cock flat against your stomach, leaking pre-come all over your soft skin. “How’s it gonna fit, baby?” He shifts his hips, sawing his length back and forth to see just how deep in you he’ll be.

Your glassy eyes drop, a broken moan passing through your slack lips when you take in the sight. Your hips rise off the bed, grinding your cunt along the seam of his heavy balls, along the prominent vein trailing up the underside.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Logan grits out, eyes hooded and dark as he watches you grind against him. “You’re gonna take it all. Gonna make you feel every last fuckin’ bit of me.”

He groans, gritting his teeth as he presses in further, each inch a battle against the tight, molten heat that grips him like a vice. Your body shudders as he fills you, your slick warmth pulling him deeper and deeper, and he sinks down until he’s fully seated, his hips flush with yours. 

The pressure is mind-numbing, your walls clenching around him in rhythmic pulses that make his vision blur. He stills for just a second, savoring the way your body stretches around him, hugging him in a way that feels like it was made for him alone.

Logan watches your face as you adjust to the stretch, your brows pinched together, each breath coming fast and shallow, your eyes glazed with pleasure.

Then, your hands come to his shoulders, nails digging little crescent moons into his skin as you nod your head, ready.

It’s all the confirmation he needs. His hips pull back before he slams in again, the force of it jolting your whole body. He presses his forehead to your shoulder, teeth bared as he muffles a snarl against your skin.

Logan thrusts again, and again, and again, hips setting a merciless pace as he watches the way your breasts bounce with each thrust, each little shudder.

His mouth waters with the need to taste, to sink his teeth into your supple skin hard enough to pierce clean through, hard enough to scar.

Sweat drips down the length of his spine, across his brow. It mats down the hair scattered over his chest, his dog tags slick with it when they bounce off his skin with each thrust. The grip of his hands tightens on your hips, it’s taking everything in him to hold back and yet he knows you’ll still bruise tomorrow. 

Pretty hues of dark purples and yellows in the shape of his fingers, ones he’ll catch you admiring in the bathroom mirror, pressing your own fingertips into them to feel the dull ache—to remember this moment.

“Made for this, aren’t you?” he rasps, his voice dark and possessive. “Made to take me, to be mine.”

The words barely leave his mouth before he’s bending down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your cries as he drives into you, pushing you both closer to that sweet edge.

“Fuck, Logan,” you gasp, breaking the kiss as your body trembles under him. “Can–ah!–can feel you in my stomach…”

Your hand drops from his shoulder, slipping between your bodies to rest over the sweaty expanse of your belly. Logan’s eyes follow your path, a feral growl bursting from his chest before he can stop it.

He’s transfixed by it, sure that if he pressed his hand to the soft skin of your lower stomach right over your own, that he’d feel it. Feel the way his cock punches up against your insides, so deep it's like he’s rearranging your guts to make room.

“Fuck.” His voice is nothing but a gravelly rumble, hoarse and dark as midnight. His hips speed up impossibly faster, chasing the feeling of your clenching walls choking the length of his cock so tight he thinks it might snap off at the base.

The flimsy headboard of your bed slams against the wall, creaky mattress springs screaming under his ministrations.

You feel like salvation, like the first rays of light after too many years spent in the dark.

He feels it with each kiss of his cock against your cervix, in the way your lips fit in the junction of his neck, in the red welts your nails leave on the skin of his back. He feels alive, truly alive, for the first time in decades.

“Say my name,” he grates, his hand cupping the back of your neck, coaxing you to look up at him, lips close enough to taste the heat radiating from his skin. “Tell me who you belong to.”

"Logan," you gasp, your voice breathy, edged with desperation as he pushes you closer to the brink. "Yours. Only yours."

A broken, shaky noise falls from his lips as he buries his face in your neck. He mouths at your skin desperately, presses his nose to where your scent is the strongest. 

Flashes of his release spraying your insides play behind his closed eyes, thoughts of drenching you so thoroughly that it has to take only forcing his hips to slam against the rippling muscle of your ass like you have your own magnetic pull. He feels it building, the slow swell of his knot presses against your folds, ready to burst.

“Come on, honey,” he begs, thumb coming down to rub slow circles over your slick clit. “Come with me, soak my cock. Show me how much you love it, how much you love me.”

Pathetic little uh uh uh’s fall from you with every thrust, broken up only by the breathy whines of his name as he pounds into you hard enough to push your body higher up the mattress. Finally, with a loud roar, he stuffs his growing knot inside of your cunt. 

Logan’s teeth sink into your neck before he can even think twice about it, the thick spray of his come filling you as his hands pull your hips down even further over his cock. He needs to be as deep in you as possible, to press forward until he can’t anymore, until his aching balls are flush with your gushing cunt.

He watches with rapt attention as you come with a loud wail, just from the feeling of his knot slotting into place. The clamp of your thighs over his hips is nearly as tight as the way your cunt seizes around him like it’s scared he’ll leave.

He groans at the over stimulation of your cunt milking his cock. Your slick leaks around the base of him, your shaking hole plugged so full it can only slip along the creamy ring to splash weakly against his thighs and hips.

Logan licks along the spot where his teeth pierced your skin, planting one last kiss before he’s taking you in his arms and rolling onto his back atop the mattress. The plush comforter sticks to his skin, your own sweaty body slipping against his as he tries his best to not jostle you too much while keeping you stuffed full of his cock.

He holds you to his chest until your breathing evens out, until your body stops trembling on top of his, until you’re nosing along the column of his neck.

“Logan?” Your voice is tiny, hoarse and scratchy. He feels your hand drawing absent minded shapes along the skin of his stomach. A circle, a star, a figure eight, a heart.

“Yeah baby?” he says, pressing his lips to the crown of your head, eyes slipping shut at the content feeling that spreads through him.

“Love you,” you murmur, voice soft but sure, the words slipping out without hesitation.

It’s the first time you’ve said it today, and hearing those three words from you sends warmth flooding through him.

Logan shifts slightly, pulling you even closer, his hand moving to the back of your head, cradling you with a kind of tenderness he used to think he’d never be capable of. “I love you too, darlin’. More than you know.”

Your body relaxes against him, the lingering effects of your shared intimacy still buzzing through your limbs, but now there’s a sense of peace, of safety, and a deeper connection.

He can feel the way your fingers curl lightly against his skin, the quiet smile that must be tugging at your lips as you press a kiss to the side of his neck.

And in that moment, with everything settled around him, Logan knows that this, right here, is everything.

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[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 2

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible.

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

Contary to popular belief, (which was pretty much that the shadows had no mind of their own, which they had, thank you very much) the shadows did do other thing than to only listen to Master’s orders. 

Of course they listened to Master’s orders. 

But they also did…things that Master didn’t know about…and would never need to find out about…

One example in fact was the amount of gold the shadows had squirreled away throughout the centuries. Not for them, but for Master. So that Mater would never need to worry about that again. So that Master would never need to sleep in a dungeon again, like he had as a child. So Master could always have new weapons and could keep himself safe, so that he would have everything he needed.

Gold wasn’t the only thing they had squirrelled away…they had other things stashed away too! Anyhting that made the appearance of being useful one day! Shiny little things, because the shadows liked that…Sadly Master never made the appearance that he would appreciate the diamond necklaces they had hidden away in a little cave, but maybe one day…

Maybe one day Master would take a wife and she would like them.

The shadows had it all figured out. Whoever she turned out to be, they would make sure that she liked them too. They would make themselves useful so that she would like them.

Even when it had never seemed to work before… The shadows had made themselves scarce around The Morrigan and The Seer because they knew that Master liked them. And if Master liked them…well, then the shadows would make sure that Master got what he wanted.

Master wanted so few things after all…

They even found The Morrigan her favourite red lipstick that hadn’t been made in centuries. Not because they liked The Morrigan, but because Master did.

And in return, she treated Master like that.

And The Seer…oh, somehow that was even worse.

Though The Seer wasn’t the only one the Shadows didn’t like because of that. The High Lord was the other one. And him… oh, the shadows would get their revenge. 

Master was theirs. Nobody talked to Master like that.

(They just needed to wait for the perfect moment…and the High Lord would regret ever treating their Master like that…)

Master had nearly gotten himself killed just because he had wanted to make The Seer happy…and nobody even seemed to care about that. Not really. 

And then Master was working himself to the bone, clearly wanting to forget what happened between him and The Seer…and the Shadows just wanted to fix things, but there was nothing to fix anymore. 

At least now…At least now, finally, Master was listening to somebody with his best interests at first.

The Shadows would find Master a wife. The best wife they possibly could. And a home too.

And so, with their new mission in mind, the shadows set off to find the perfect home and the perfect female for their master.

The home was the easier part.

Mostly because they already owned it for a few decades. 

It was a picturesque Lake House at one of the mountain seas in Velaris, not far off from the House of Wind. It was beautiful and just a few minutes by foot away from the city center but still private and quiet…and the view was spectacular. 

The home itself was warm and cozy, with large windows that let in plenty of sunlight. Master would love it.

It just needed a little…attention. Some furniture…They would need to put the stuff they had filled it with somewhere else but that shouldn’t be a problem, right? 

Master would love it. Now they just needed the right female to share it with for Master…

The shadows were going to find Master a wife… They just needed…They just needed to figure out some criteria at first.

Master had said he didn’t care about how she looked…so that didn’t help them to narrow down the pool of possible candidates.

Nobody with a known mate. Nobody in a romantic relationship… regardless of how loose that was. The Shadows were not going to get Master’s heart broken again, thank you very much… Then all the females that preferred females themselves.

That did narrow it down… at least a little bit.

Then the more…obscure character traits. 

Nobody that was a workaholic like Master. That was never going to work.

Nobody that needed endless other people around them to be happy…Master would just get overwhelmed and shut down…

Nobody that didn’t seem like they were ready for a long term relationship either…once again, they didn’t want to break Master’s heart again…

The shadows had met really bad people. Criminals and murderers…they had seen the worst the world had to offer …but they were surprised by how many females they threw out too that pool simply because of how they behaved towards other people.

Once they had thought that maybe…maybe one female was an option. Dark blonde hair, green eyes…she had a steady job and she liked going out dancing….by the time she made fun of the limp of a soldier, the shadows wondered if every single person they came across was an asshole. They also wondered if there was anyone out there who truly deserved Master. 

But the Shadows refused to give up. They would find the right female for Master, no matter how long it took. They had already acquired a beautiful home for him, and now they were determined to find the perfect mate to share it with...

They could easily suss out anybody they wanted to meet…they could figure out which females were available…The problem was only that…they did find some kind of problem with every female they came across.

The blonde one that made fun of the limp was just one in a very long row of them. There was another one that they thought could have worked…but she got into earhsattering, screaming arguments with seemingly everybody she came across. Master liked his quietness, that wasn’t going to work either…

Another few that didn’t want a serious relationship even when they said they did, which was completely fine but made them useless for the shadows purposes… The Shadows were halfway ready to give up in Velaris and start trying again in another city of the Night Court, when they came across her in a dark back alley.

Across her and probably the dirtiest and ugliest feral cat that the shadows had ever seen.The ugliest cat they had ever seen that she was clearly trying to entice to come home with her.

“H-hey, swe...sweetie,” she whispered, her voice stuttering. She was crouched down o the floor. “Wa—Want to go somewhere war—warmer?”

The cat meowed pitifully and the shadows watched as she wrapped the cat up in the scarf she had worn, not for one moment caring that the cat was goign to ruin it. 

The shadows couldn’t help but keep watching, their curiosity piqued. She was clearly not concerned about the dirt or the torn scarf, and she was attempting to bond with this mangy feral cat. This showed a level of compassion and patience that they hadn’t often come across in their search. 

She seemed determined to help the cat, and the shadows couldn't help but admire her tenacity. 

The cat looked horribly, with matted, dirty fur, two eyes that stared in two different direction and an overbite. Somehow it reminded the Shadows of Master. 

Not with the way it looked…more in the way it pitfully stayed quiet and didn’t attack the female, even as she picked it up, wrapped in her scarf and then took it home. 

She smiled at the mangly back alley cat with so much adoration that the shadows wondered where it was even coming from. Her face was alight with joy as the cat rubbed her head against her fingertips.

The shadows followed along as she brought the cat to her apartment.

It was tiny. Tiny and absolutely stuffed full with books. So many books. Like somebody had tried to stuff the whole library of the Hose of Wind in this little apartment overlooking the harbour.

She had so many bookcases lining the walls, books in little stacks on her dining table and coffee table…or simply stacked on the floor. It was cozy and cluttered and utterly charming. Her passion for literature spilled out of every corner of her home. 

The Shadows couldn’t help but wonder what kin of person would choose to filll their living space with so many books. 

Apparently a person that had no problem with spending the better part of an hour bathing the cat in her kitchen sink. 

Weren't cats supposed to not to like water?

This one didn't seem to care. This one sat calmly in her sink and attemptsed to bite the stream of water flowing from the faucet...which meant it snuffled and sneezed for the big majority of the bath. She soaped him up twice, muttering a constant stream of reassurances that the cat doesn't seem to actually need, given the cat’s complete lack of distress at being repeatedly soaked.

And still she talked to it, constantly, the stutter omnipresent. She showed a remarkable amount of patience and care as she cleaned and combed the feral cat, gently and painstakingly combing out every single matted strand of hair and making sure the cat was clean and comfortable.

The shadows couldn't help but be slightly taken aback. She seemed completely focused on making sure the cat was happy and healthy, and she didn't even seem to mind that she was making a mess of her kitchen in the process. 

​​She scooped said up in a fluffy towel, rubbing it up and the cat purred, looking at her with two eyes that stared in two different directions. It was still the ugliest cat the shadows had ever seen, but she seemed to utterly adore it.

"You need - need a name," she told the cat seriously. She seemed to take this decision very seriously, as if the cat's name was a reflection of his identity. The cat in question was clearly enjoying the attention, purring contentedly as it was rubbed with a fluffy towel. "I thi-ink you are a boy. How about...Hector," she said finally, as if she had carefully considered many options before settling on this one. "I think it suits you.”

"How about some tu...tuna, Hector?" she asked him seriously. "I'll even give...give you the good crystal."

She couldn’t be serious, could she?

Apparently, she was. She fed the mangy back alley cat from a fancy little crystal dish that she put a tin of tuna into with a flourish, putting out another dish with water right next to it. 

She slipped off the apron she had put on, printed with ditsy little florals and sat down next to the cat. Hector happily scarfed down everything she was offering and then came to curl himself up on her lap. “I have a bad track record with males,” she told the cat seriously. “They end up cheating on me with my sister.”

The statement caught the shadows off guard. What? 

Despite that admission she she continued to gently stroke the cat in her lap, clearly finding some comfort in his company. "I'll feed you all the tuna I can find, if you keep me company," she told the cat softly. "I could really use some company."

That wasn’t…that wasn’t what the shadows had expected. Bu the Hector purre, the sound rough and growly and she giggled, sounding sweet and incandescently happy. 

She wanted companionship. That was clear. And she was also used to beng the second choice, when the males she had been with, had cheated on her with her sister. 

They were intrigued. 

They kept watching, hiding between her books, that seemed to span every which genre as she got ready for bed. 

She took a bath, and they watched as she let down her hair from the thick braided bun it had been kept it, ripples of chocolate brown tresses falling down her back…she was pretty too. 

Pretty with dark hair and blue eyes, with lush curves that were swathed into a pair of blue silk pyjamas.

She opened a chest at the end of her wrought iron bed, going through it for a moment and then pulling out a fluffy blanket, into which she wrapped Hector in. 

“Here, you..you can have that one,” she said softly, placing the cat at the end of her bed. “Let’s go to sleep.”

And so she went to sleep, curled up between floral sheets, and the cat purring at her feed and the shadows watched. 

They stayed.  

While she slept, they explored her house, searching for everything that they could learn about her. Searched for a name and her job or her hobbies and…

The answer was found in the desk that was tucked beneath her window in the living room. 

Dozens of pages filled with loopy handwriting were covering it. Drafts of her newest novel. A romance novel. 

Just a few moments later they found a stack of letters…and then were very confused for a little while, because there were letters addressed to two different females. Skylar Alden…and one Sellyn Drake. 

It took them a moment until they realised that both names contained the same letters.

Skylar Alden was Sellyn Drake.

Sellyn Drake, the bestselling romance author. Sellyn Drake, who Lady Death loved to read. Sellyn Drake, whose identity was a secret...

Skylar Alden was Sellyn Drake. 

Skylar Alden, who seemed to prefer to be called Sky, signing everything with just these three letter…and who doted on Hector, the ugly cat..She was also Sellyn Drake, Bestselling Romance Novel Author extraordinaire. 

And she seemed very much content with keeping that a secret. 

But why? 

Why did she chose to hide her identity? Was she afraid of the fame that came with success? Or did she prefer to remain anonymous and blend in with the everyday world? 

The Shadows were intrigued. 

Was this the only secret Sky was hiding? 

The Shadows kept an eye her over the following days. 

They waited for her to do something that would put her out of the running as Master’s wife. Waited for her to have some kind of flaw that they couldn't deal with...but there was nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

They closely monitored her every move, and half the time she didn’t even leave her apartment, preferring to stay curled up inside, write her books, and cuddle with Hector, the cat.

For cauldron’s sake…she even knitted the ugly cat a sweater so he wouldn’t get cold because his belly didn’t have any fur after she had removed all these mats!

There was nothing, absolutely nothing, that they could find in her life that could even be construed as unkind. 

Sky had a bank account that was full thanks to the books she wrote…and all she paid for with it, was her rent, her food, her regular mail orders of more books…She even donated to one of the orphanages in Velaris, for crying outloud! 

Sometimes she went down to the fishmonger and bought ridiculously expensive tuna for Hector, who she spoiled rotten. 

Though that one trip to the harbour…where the shadows hid in her handbag…well, that one trip explained why she seemed more than content to stay in the privacy of her own home for most of the time. 

Her stutter got exponentially worse when she tried to talk to another person, when it wasn’t just herself and the cat that she liked reading her books aloud to... 

Especially when the person she tried to talk to was an impatient fishmonger that rolled his eyes at her stutter. The Shadows as Sky’s cheeks turned a ruddy red, embarrassment clouding around her thickly. 

The shadows silently bristled. 

She acquired her tuna, paid silently and then kept her head down as she headed back home, cheeks still read, while blue, blue eyes filled with tears. 

And that…that was just pissing the shadows off. 

She hadn’t even been doing anything! She had just stuttered while asking for fish!

It wasn’t like she was doing this on purpose!

One tendril from the Shadows darted out of her bag, waiting until Sky was far enough away that that idiotic fishmonger wouldn’t think she had anything to do with it…

And then they only needed to loose that pesky little screw that kept one of the legs of his table attached…Screw you, Fishmonger. Let that be a lesson to be nicer to other people 

Another customer accidentally jostled said table just seconds later and the shadows snickered to themselves as the fish went flying. 

The tendril silently returned to Sky’s handbag, as she made her way back home. 

Hector got some of the Tuna cut up into small pieces on the good crystal bowl…and Sky gently scratched him behind his ears the whole time. 

The Shadows silently wondered if Master would enjoy being scratched behind his ears, as well. 

“I’ll ha--have dinner with my family to…tonight. You’ll stay here, al-alright? I’ll be back soon,” she promised the cat. 

Hector just purred at her, nuzzling against her hand before the cat began to dig into the tuna as though he would never be fed again.

Her family. Well, the Shadows would totally come along for that…who knew, maybe her family was just as lovely as she was!

They were not in fact as lovely, as she was.

It started with the very first words of her mother who opened the door, Sky juggling her purse and a paper covered tray from a bakery: “Did you bring dessert? It’s not like you should eat any of that.”

Sky paused at her mother's words, the small smile that had graced her face vanishing like water in the sand.

And then it returned, but the difference between her true smile and her fake smile were so... stark.

"Hi-i. I brou… I brought cake," she said, holding out the tray towards her. "Where do you….Whe-ere do…where do-o you want me to…to put it?"

Her voice was shaking. And she was stuttering…stuttering even worse than she had done with that fishmonger.

“Talk properly, Skylar,” her mother admonished her harshly. “Put it in the kitchen.”

Sky gave a small nod, but her eyes were downcast as the Shadows followed her into the house. 

The Shadows were...not impressed with Sky's mother. It was clear that her stutter wasn’t something that she could help, but instead was something that came out stronger when she was nervous or anxious or around other people. 

Sky set the cake on the counter and glanced towards the dining room. The table was already set, surrounded by other people, that the shadows took in, while hiding in the curtains of the living room: 

Sky’s mother was taller than her, blonde and grey eyed. The shadows also got their first glimpse at what probably was her sister. Looking just like her mother, tall and slender…accompanied by a red haired male. And then there was another blonde male, probably a brother…and an older male, who must be her father. At least he shared her dark hair.

“Ah there you are Skylar,” the blonde female greeted her, her voice sickly sweet.

"Hi Claire. Hi-i…ever…everyone," she murmured looking as though she would rather be anywhere but here.

Her eyes briefly flitted to her father. He gave a small nod, but otherwise he looked… indifferent. As though he did not even care.

"We've been waiting for you," her mother said, her voice sharp and curt, "Sit." Sky didn't respond, just moved quickly to the table. She settled down in one of the empty spots, clasping her hands on her lap.

"...Is this what you call fashion?" her sister scoffed.

Sky looked down at her outfit. 

As far as the shadows could tell, there was nothing wrong with it. I cream coloured blouse, a blue skirt…It was a rather pretty outfit in the Shadow's opinion. Sky looked beautiful and charming to them. 

“Did you gain weight, again?” The red haired male said with a roll of his eyes. “You always had a horrible sweet tooth.”

What. 

Since when did that make polite dinner conversation?

Sky didn't respond, even when the shadows could see her hands tightening around each other, looking down as her mother let out an exasperated sigh. “You’ll never find a male like this,” her mother snorted. “Males don’t like it if girls don’t keep up their appearances. The least you could do is try.”

"I'm...sor...re...sorry," the stuttering had gotten worse, Sky practically shrinking into her seat. She was fidgeting, looking as though she wanted to disappear into herself and the Shadows wished that they could just sweep her far away from here.

“How is work?” Her brother asked flatly at that moment. “Still editing your stupid romance novels? I still think you should do something slightly more useful.”

So even they didn’t know. 

Sellyn Drake was a secret even from her family. But then, if her family talked to her like that and it was…normal…then the shadows weren’t surprised. 

“What else is she supposed to do?” the red haired male asked with a snort. “It’s not like she has any skills.”

Sky flinched, not looking at him. The shadows wondered if that was one of the males that had cheated on her with her sister. 

“Oh, come on, Admon. She has some skills,” her sister said at that moment, giving another winning smile. “She can annoy everybody around her with her inability to speak properly.” 

Wow. 

Sky didn’t even flinch. Sky did nothing. 

She just...sat there through all the comments. Sky didn't even try to defend herself.

The whole dinner went by like that. Comment after comment after comment. About her work, about her body, about her clothing, about her stutter… Sky barely had any dinner because every time she picked up her fork with food on it, her mother was shooting her a sharp look. So she left most of the food on her plate and the shadows wanted to bristle. 

She maybe wasn’t as thin as her mother or her sister but that didn’t make her any less beautiful or any less deserving of food! 

When they weren’t making prickly comments about sky, her older brother Orin and Claire, her sister were only talking about themselves. It was quite useful only because the shadows learned stuff like the fact that Claire and Admon were engaged to be married and that Orin was working at a bank…

But none of that information made it worth for them to treat her like that. 

Eventually the dinner finally ended after what felt like an eternity. Sky looking as though she could hardly wait to leave. She rose, and the Shadows quickly into her purse her as she grabbed her purse and her jacket.

"Leaving already?" her mother frowned, standing as well. 

"I…It's get…getting…late." Sky said, her eyes not even lifting to look at her mother.

The words were barely out of her mouth before her mother's hand darted out, gripping her jaw tightly and causing the Shadows to let out a warning hiss. Sky winced in pain as her mother forced her to look up.

��At least try to be polite, if you are utterly useless.”

Sky's eyes widened in pain as her lip wobbled. She looked as though she was going to cry, her hands clenching and unclenching as she tried to stay calm. "I'm…sor-r-r-ry." She whispered.

But her mother didn't even release her grip. "Don't talk to me like you are the one being wronged. Look at you. Who would want you like this?"

The Shadows bristled at her mother's words. Everyone would want her like this, they thought angrily. We would want her like this.

Sky swallowed thickly, trying to fight her tears. She was trembling, trembling from head to toe.

"I'm sor-rry. Pl-please. Let me go." She stammered.

Her mother simply sneered, and shoved her backwards, Sky nearly falling as she stumbled. "You'll never amount to anything." She said coldly. "You're nothing more than a disappointment."

Sky looked absolutely mortified at her mother's words, tears starting to fall from her eyes as she looked down at her feet. She looked like a wounded animal, like someone who had given up. And it made the Shadows burn with anger. How could her own family be so cruel to her? Didn't they see how kind she was? Or how…how sweet she was?

Sky took a step backwards, and then she was running, practically fleeing out the door, rushing into the night. She was almost running, her breaths ragged as every gasp she took sounded as though she was trying to smother her sobs.

Finally, she slowed down, but didn't stop walking.

She just kept walking, her head down, tears still falling down from her wide eyes. Finally, she slowed down, but didn't stop walking. She made her way back home, shoulders caved in, looking utterly and completely miserable, as opened her door with her key…and then the damn burst. 

And she collapsed right on the floor in her hallway, great, heaving sobs escaping her.  

And the shadows just knew one thing with utter certainty: They were going to fix this. They were going to fix this for her and Master.

Even when it was the last fucking thing they did. 

[yanmuffins]

waiter! waiter! more phineas and ferb reader pls!

I wonder how the batfam would react once they catch reader inventions on a random tuesday, like, "hm, what a nice day to look out on the window and HOLY SHIT WHY IS THERE A GIANT ROBOT SPITING FIRE WHILE RIDING A ROLLERCOASTER IN MY BACKYARD???"

the events that would follow this incident would be funny and exasperating, me thinks

also, wouldn't it be funnier if Perry the Platypus was part of the JL? and like, no one knows his identity but Superman, and neither of them are willing to talk about it-

I know it would be very unlikely, since everyone there would have enough neurons to recognize a platypus with and without a hat, but for the sake of shit and giggles, just think of how funny that would be

welp, I needed to get that outta ma chest, I hope I at least made you laugh a little, because seriously this is one of the best ideas I've seen in this tag and I can't stop thinking and giggling about it

Stay well!

context.

first: i was not expecting this concept to be so popular!! the responses i've gotten from everyone are so amazing!!  ( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝) thank you for the ask, anon!! it always makes my day.

i am formally announcing that i will be turning phineas and ferb reader into a fic now. it's too good a concept to pass up. something more light-hearted to work between the other fics i'm writing.

batfamily finding out about reader's whacky inventions would be an event. it so wholeheartedly shatters the image they had of reader to the point they just have to sit with what the hell just happened for a while before they even consider what to do about you next. still so many things that don't make sense. their newest case is how the fuck did we go this long without finding out (Y/N) has been building mechas in our backyard and why are those things always gone when it's convenient.

then the realizations just start dropping on them like an anvil on a looney tunes character. and they kinda feel like shit, cause how did they not notice? really puts into perspective how they've neglected you all this time. so many stunts you pulled right under their nose, on their backyard, their garage, throughout gotham and metropolis. ok, were out there being creative and amazing and you sure know how to spend the wayne family money, they'll give you that, but it was so irresponsible of you! who knows what could've gone wrong. you're not like them! you're a civilian with no training, the only regular teenager in the family, you're the last person who should be exposing themselves doing all that.

bruce goes off on you, screaming about how could you be so reckless, you did all of this behind his back– what? what do you mean he gave his permission? and he is floored, devastated, blood pressure up, when you remind him of every instance you dropped by his office with a document for him to sign or to ask for permission, with proof as you pull out every paper he put his signature without a second look.

and that, ladies and gentlemen, is when reader's dynamic with the batfam does a complete 180 and their little yandere antennae start going off. no more whacky cartoonish shenanigans. at least not without proper supervision. they know you're not a fan of this new arrangement, but you gotta understand they let you go unchecked for way too long! they'll drown you in family activities so you don't even have to worry about it. who wants to build a teleportation machine, anyway? just join them for family movie night.

as for perry, that is going to take them a while longer to figure out. bruce just can't stand another insane discovery, so when batman sees an intelligent platypus wearing a fedora and walking on two feet on justice league headquarters (if we're going by the idea that he's a part of JL), he's just going to think "my kid has a pet platypus. huh."

oh, consider:

dick: "damian, you knew all this time?! our sibling could've gotten into serious trouble! why didn't you tell us about this?"

damian: stares into the camera like he's in the office.

[rjalker]

made with speech to text and I'm not fixing the goddamn typos you can all figure it out

This post is also relevant to nonbinary people and the OP has decided to get extremely upset about somebody gently saying this in the notes instead of just saying yeah I should have mentioned nonbinary people, because this post is literally not fucking exclusive to binary trans people.

And it's literally just exordexism to pretend that this is only an issue that binary trans people face and deal with.

Non-binary people are constantly ignored and erased when people are talking about trans issues, this post and the topics it deal with are not in any shape or form exclusive to binary trans people, the only reason non-binary people aren't mentioned is because of x or sexism. Opie, you're being non-binary does not make this apparently purposeful exclusion of non-binary people from this post any less bigoted, and I was going to fucking ignore it until I saw your absolute fucking flip out in the notes from somebody literally just saying don't forget non-binary people.

If you are making posts about trans people, literally just put in 2 seconds of effort to remember that non-binary people besides yourself exist. That we exist. Almost every single fucking post about trans people on this website is always about binary trans people, and yes you are in fact directly contributing to the erasure of non-binary people by not mentioning us on this post that also applies to us just as much as it does binary trans people. It doesn't matter that you are also non-binary, that just means you should know better.

Not every post on this website needs to apply to everyone, and that's literally not what anyone is fucking arguing, but this post is literally applicable to all trans people, and it is literally x or sexism to not mention non-binary people. It literally fucking is. And if you are more upset by somebody literally just gently saying don't forget non-binary people then you are the fact that you wrote this whole fucking post and didn't mention non-binary people once, I don't know what to fucking tell you You're just extra sexist and contributing to extra sexism that is rampant on this website.

If the post is talking about a topic that is exclusively dealing with something that only binary trans people face, then sure go ahead and do what the fuck ever but there are hundreds of posts on this website that talk about issues that all trans people face like this one that make no mention of non-binary people at all because people are extra sexist, and you are not magically excluded from being extra sexist because you are also non-binary

Your response to the person in the notes just gently asking people not to forget that we fucking exist is you being extra sexist. All you had to do was say yeah you're right. But you instead flip out and pretend like it's a fucking hate crime for somebody to ask you to include non-binary people in your posts about trans issues that affect literally all of us. You are acting like non-binary people are just demanding absolute perfection and all of this bullshit by literally somebody just asking don't forget non-binary people. In a post you made about trans issues that affect all of us where you only mentioned binary trans people

If you want to actually fight extra sexism and transmisia, you do have to put in the fucking effort to remember that non-binary people exist, yes, even if you fucking are one. Because your response to that person's simple fucking statement is completely over the top and is literally just extra sexism.

You do not get to act like non-binary people are just demanding so much impossibility and so much impossible difficult things by literally having somebody to say don't forget non-binary people on the post that literally applies to all trans people and you fucking did not mention non-binary people once.

All you had to do was say yeah you're right. And just edit the post or add every blog that says and this also applies to non-binary people too. That's literally all you had to fucking do. But no. You just had to go and be a fucking exorsexist acting like it's an impossible demand to include non-binary people and act like you being non-binary makes this behavior okay somehow.

And yeah in the replies the OP literally says that this post is explicitly not about non-binary people at all and doesn't apply to non-binary people so I guess we don't deserve the same basic respect as binary trans people! Cool. Great. So fun.

Sarcasm: the way to be a trans ally is to be aggressively fucking against non-binary people being acknowledged at all in conversations that affect all trans people.

I don't think you're a trans ally until you accept trans people who don't want to transition. And I don't just mean medically.

I mean trans men who look indistinguishable from cis women and trans women who look indistinguishable from cis men and they're happy like that. Who have no intention of changing their style, presentation, or even pronouns.

Some women don't look like the stereotypical idea of "woman" and it's the same for men. But they're still men and women. I need you to understand that gender has no bearing on appearance and people's comfort in their own bodies is more important than the fictional idea of what manhood and womanhood looks like.

And, yes, some people can't transition due to disability or funds or whatever and they're included in this, yes. But you need to accept people who don't want to either. Who willingly make the choice to not transition in any way because that's how they're the most comfortable.

A trans person who doesn't transition is just as much their gender as anyone else of that same gender. Please get that through your head.

To any trans men who don't want to transition or change their appearance in any way: You're a man. You've always been a man. You will always be a man.

To any trans women who don't want to transition or change their appearance in any way: You're a woman. You've always been a woman. You will always be a woman.

The way your body looks doesn't matter in the slightest, your gender is real and legitimate and valid regardless of any other factors.

[flemingology]

kitbag chronicles ─ alessia russo x reader

in which: you voice your love for alessia through the notes you put in her kitbag

warnings: none, tiniest bit suggestive if you squint

wc: 1.4k

a/n: finally got around to writing something for my number 1. this is so incredibly random and it's all over the place, but idk i lowkey kinda like it... i think? idk i probably shouldn't reread it because i might hate it if i do. hope you enjoy!

Ever since you and Alessia started dating, the England striker had made it very clear that she loved the little things you did for her. Memorising her coffee order, remembering her favourite flowers, new scented candles in her favourite scent on a bi-weekly basis. If you asked Alessia, she would say you were the most thoughtful person she’d ever met.

You’d grown to love the smile you put on your girlfriend’s face with those small displays of affection. You were forever seeking new ways to show your love for her, without stating the obvious over and over again. It kept both of you on your toes, always working on your relationship and making the other fall in love with you over and over again.

The last couple weeks, you'd found something new to do for Alessia. Her busy schedule keeping her away from you almost every single day of the week, you had to find ways to work around it and to remind Alessia that, even when she was at the club, you were thinking about her.

Since a couple months, it had become a little tradition that you prepared Alessia's kitbag. It wasn't much work at all, all she put in there were a shirt and a pair of trousers, or shorts – based on what the weather was like that day in London. You insisted that you did it for her, claiming that that way you felt like she had a little part of you with her during the day.

Today, though, you felt like trying something different. When you were younger, your mum always prepared your lunchbox for when you went to school. To make it a little extra special, she always added a little note for you to discover when you had lunch. It could be something funny, a drawing or simply a reminder how much she loved you – you didn't mind the teasing that came with it from your friends.

You figured it would be something Alessia loved, seen how much she usually liked it when you did little things like that for her. So this morning, after putting the blonde's training top and trousers in her kitbag, you grabbed a note and started writing something down. You decided to keep it simple for your first time of doing this, something you knew would just give Alessia a little spring in her step for the rest of the day. "Go get em, Lessi. Can't wait to have you home with me again tonight," is what you decided on, quickly putting away the pen and putting the piece of paper in her bag before she could see what you were up to.

When Alessia left later that morning, you pushed her kitbag in her hands, as you did every day. With a sweet, lingering kiss to your lips and a quick hug, she was out the door with the promise of cooking together later that night. Love goes through the stomach, or whatever they say.

It was no longer than 30 minutes later when your phone chimed with a message from your blonde lover.

From: Less 🤍 I got the note, baby. So cute. I love you so much :')

You smiled brightly at your phone screen, a warm, fuzzy feeling coursing through you at the idea of Alessia opening her kitbag and finding the note. You quickly typed a message back to her, wanting her to read it before she inevitably had to get her day going at the training centre.

To: Less 🤍 It's true, though. Counting down the hours until you're home, like every day. Go kick ass, my love. x

With you working from home, it had been quite the adjustment. Normally, when Alessia went to the training centre, you'd also leave the apartment and be on your way to your office. But with Alessia's recent transfer to Arsenal, swapping Manchester for London, it wasn't so straightforward anymore for you to go into the office everyday. 2 hours 30 on the train or easily 4 hours by car, it just wasn't doable anymore for a daily job. So you and your boss agreed that you could work from home in London, with one visit to the office a month. You were forever grateful for the opportunity, very glad that you didn't have to find a new job in London, but it brought its hardships too.

Quite frankly, you grew quite bored at home. You had your work, and you always managed to fill the best part of 8 hours with whatever you had to do that day, but the house felt empty without Alessia. A new city, new surroundings, new apartment, you hadn't quite accustomed to it all yet and you hadn't failed to make it known to Alessia that you missed her terribly whenever she was out at training.

Nonetheless, you would never stand in the way between her and her career, it was just another obstacle that you two would have to face and manoeuvre around, but you were certain that you would navigate it perfectly. You had a strong relationship, and everyone around you would probably say that you were made for each other.

With the knowledge gathered that Alessia enjoyed her little note, you took it upon yourself to give her some more frequently. Not every day, because you didn't want her to grow old of them, but you sprinkled some in throughout the week – keeping her on her toes.

It wasn't until one particular morning at the Arsenal training centre that Alessia realized that her notes wouldn't just always be you loving up on her. She'd left you high and dry that morning before leaving, feeling you up and kissing all over your body until her alarm went off. She was reluctant about finishing what she had started, despite your whining when she left you alone in bed and had started getting ready for her day. She didn't want to be late, understandably, but she also left you with a very uncomfortable throbbing between your legs. Her promise of continuing her ministrations later that night hadn't really convinced you, and you decided to tease her a little about it through a note.

This time, unlike all the other times you'd left a note in Alessia's kitbag, you didn't receive a message about. Not just that, the Arsenal striker hadn't texted you all day and you couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious about what you did. You didn't want to push it too far, but you were starting to feel like you did. You texted her a little after lunch-time, wishing her a good gym session, but you got left on read.

Later that day, when Alessia came home, you were nervous to approach her. You were upstairs, finishing up on a couple of e-mails, before you went downstairs and joined the blonde who had plopped down on the couch and turned on the football. "Hi, baby," you said softly, pressing a kiss against her cheek. Alessia tried to put on a sour face, but her resolve weakened quickly when you pressed another few kisses all over her face.

"That was mean, you know?" cocking her head at you, eyebrow raised and index finger pointing at you. You couldn't hide the smile that crept on your face. "Don't give me that, Russo! If anyone was mean, it was you. This morning. Leaving me all worked up like that," you reasoned, pointing your index finger right back at her, poking her nose in the process causing a small smile to form on her lips.

"You know what, you're probably right," your girlfriend started, leaning closer towards you and trapping your body in between her arms, positioning the two of you so she was hovering over you on the couch. "That was so incredibly unfair of me and I think it's only right that I get the opportunity to make it up to you."

Alessia dipped her head towards your neck and started pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses on the skin there. You hummed and tangled one of your hands into her hair, slightly tugging when you could feel the scrape of her teeth on your sensitive skin. "You're lucky I love you, Russo," you breathed.

"Oh, I know. Now let me show you just how much I appreciate you, please."

[chris-prank]

A desperate yandere in your area

Chapter 2 : Surprise visitor

Sub pathetic yandere x GN reader

Previous chapter

(This is a work of fiction for entertainment purposes only, I do not support yandere behaviors in real life)

CW: NSFW, collar, praise kink, masturbating in secret, handjob, voyeurism, teasing, porn with plot, yandere behavior, mention of stalking, reader is horny too and L bomb

Word count: Over 2K

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You sat on your bed, putting headphones in your ears. It had been a truly tiresome day, so you figured that a little alone time was well deserved before doing any house chores. Setting comfortably against your pillows, you selected one of those “man moaning and whimpering” audios. You closed your eyes as the delectable sounds filled your surrendering. 

You were starting to get into it, when suddenly, a moan seemed to have been louder than the others. They were also small whimpers…Weird…You decided to not pay much attention to this as your body relaxed. Your hand creeped down your pants when you went in the mood again. 

You were making rhythmic movements, trying to imagine a pathetic man in front of you making all these slutty moans. Even in your while enwrapped in your fantasy, you swore some noises were always too loud to be coming from your headphones. You used your clean hand to pause the audio and there it was again! A small whimper!

You checked your phone and no, the audio hadn’t started again. It was so faint that it was difficult for you to pinpoint where it was coming from. You took out your headphones and really tried to concentrate on the source of the noises. It almost sounded like an injured animal, maybe a cat had gotten into your apartment ? You knew that one of your neighbors had one, so it wasn’t impossible. You sigh in defeat, knowing that you wouldn't be able to finish what you started. You took a blanket and got off your bed. You roamed around the room as quietly as possible, not wanting to alarm the poor unknown creature. As you got closer to your closet you could feel your heart pulsating in your ears, the whimpers were coming from there. You raised the blanket, ready to throw it if the animal showed any sign of aggressivity.  

In one swift motion you opened the closet door. And there was… Jacce sitting on the ground, pumping his cock forcefully. He was so engrossed by the smell of your shirt covering his face, that he had failed to remember to keep it down. You didn't even scream or move. You felt like you dissociated from your body, as if you were watching this surreal outcome from a second point of view. 

The man opened his eyes when he was just about to cum, finally noticing you standing in full height before him— just like he had fantasized on so many occasions, but this time it was real. 

“F—ngahh—uck.” His eyes rolled back for a second, his body shuddering while he ejaculated. Ropes of cum shooting unintentionally in your direction.  

His sudden climax reactivated your nerve system. You dropped the blanket on him, ran out of the room and into the living room. Not only was there a man that broke into your house to masturbate, this intruder was JACCE! The barista you liked! This was the most horrifying situation you've ever been in. You regretted dreading that it could have been a wild animal, because it would have been better than whatever this was. 

You could hear shuffling noises behind you, certainly him trying to put his junk back into his pants as fast as possible.

“Hey w-wait.”

When you turned to face him, his expression was still stuck in this dazed state of the aftermath of cumming. Like clockwork every time he took a step forward you would step back.  

“Y-you weren’t… supposed to see th-this.” He breathed out like he ran a marathon, “let me ex-explain before doing anything… p-please.” 

Jacce looked down at your hands before looking back at you. You didn’t answer but didn’t make a move either. The man took that as a sign to continue. 

“I… I know what it looks like… A guy that you barely know, touching himself in your closet… in your house…” He hesitated at the last part, “but I’m not a creep! I-I did this because I love you!”

Love me?! You had noticed before that he gave you more special treatment compared to other clients… but you never expected this! You felt your body getting weaker, as if you were about to faint from the stress. 

“Are you… going to hurt me?”

Jacce's expression seemed to drop at the question, as if he was heartbroken that you thought he would do such a thing. This was not going as planned and he hated himself for it. You weren’t supposed to find him in your closet. You weren’t supposed to see him like this. 

“I could n-never hurt you! I love you!” He was speaking with conviction, “I just want to be there for you! To serve you like you deserve… If anything you should be the one hurting m—”  

“What are you talking about?!” You cutted him short in a panic, “I don’t want t-that!”

“What!? B—But I can be so good for you!” His voice raised slightly in desperation,  “most guys are too stupid to even split the house chores! I'm ready to do everything for you!”

You stepped back while he kept walking forward. He was so absorbed in waves of emotions to notice the fear in your eyes. He gripped his shirt, his hands trembling and tears forming in the corner of his eyes. 

“I would NEVER take you for granted! I would be the most attentive and obedient person in your entire life!” His entire body was now shaking violently, “I don’t even have to be your boyfriend, I can be your pet!” 

You didn’t know what to do. Your brain was going thousand miles an hour, making it near impossible to settle on something. While trying to think clearly, you also had to focus on what he was saying. He kept going on and on about the fact the he wanted to… serve you. What if it was true and not just excuses to make himself look less bad? 

You decided to test your luck. It's not like you had another choice. Jacce was taller than you and getting him more agitated was not a good idea. You builded up all the energy you had left and talked over him in an authoritarian tone. 

“Sit down against the wall.”

And he did. 

All the panic that contortionned his face had completely disappeared, replaced by an expression of anticipation. He looked sincere about his intentions… but you couldn’t totally believe him just yet. The fear in your guts was still present, but it was slowly being overshadowed by something else. Your mind kept wandering back to the whimpers he cried out while touching himself and how cute he looked all desperate. You could sense the familiar sensation creeping between your legs the longer you looked down at him. Jacce seemed to be also stimulated by the turn of events, because he quickly placed his hands between his legs, not wanting to blow up his small chance with you. This pose gave him an even more submissive look, which made you go crazy. 

What if… maybe we could both take advantage of this situation. 

You were indeed craving for someone like this. Until now you could only find them in fiction and even then it was hard to dig them out in the sea of dominant love interests. Jacce would get your attention and you would be able to feast upon the site of his patheticness. You were definitely twisted to consider this outcome about a man who broke into your house, but it’s not like you would be doing anything wrong. It's your house so your rules on how to deal with intruders. 

“Let me see what's happening between your legs.”  You tried to keep the confident facade as you spoke. 

Jacce's shoulders jolted a bit in embarrassment, but he did reveal the tent in his pants. He looked so disheveled with his flushed face and his coat lazily falling off one his shoulders. So hot. 

“Do you want me to make it better?” Your voice was dripping with such honey, that you were even shocked by it. 

He nodded frantically. Consent was something crucial and he had just gave it to you with indisputable enthusiasm. 

You got down on your knees to get better access to him. You reached your hand out for his bulge, caressing it, which made his body tremble in anticipation. You unzipped his pants and slightly pulled at the rim of his boxers. His erection sprong out, finally letting you have a good look at it. His dick was 6.5 inches, the foreskin pulled back to reveal his pink gland, now on the verge of turning red. The tip was crowned with little pearls of precum, some of them sliding down his shaft like water drops on a car window. It made your mouth salivate just by thinking of wrapping your lips around it and admire his face contorted in pleasure. 

Jacce was clearly trying to stay quiet, but when you spat in your hand, he couldn’t help but whimper at the thought of what was going to happen. You rubbed your palm on his tip, which made him buck his hips, before wrapping your fingers around it. Your thumb was barely reaching your index finger and that warmed your lower half even more. The idea of something like this stretching your inside was so enticing.

“T–thank y–you… Haah… I’ll be so so good to you, I promise.” 

Jacce leaned in, clinging to the front of your shirt. At last he was feeling your divine touch. A part of him still couldn’t believe the turn of events. He imagined that you would have at least tried to hit him or something. But no, there you were, willingly giving him a handjob like a merciful master. You squeezed the base of his shaft, admiring the precum oozing out of the tip. You started to stroke him at a medium pace. Surprisingly, his voice was more soft spoken than what you expected. He was murmuring needingly into your ear while his drool stains your clothes. Jacce was still sensitive, since he had already cum not too long ago, causing him to swallow back cries multiple times. 

“If you want me to continue you’ll have to answer some questions, ok?” 

You felt like you were babying this grown man, talking to him like that. But he didn’t seem to mind, since he nodded without a complaint. Your grip started to loosen up tho, since that wasn’t a satisfying answer. 

“Use your words or I’ll stop making you feel good.” 

“I’ll–I’ll answer!” He whined.

“Good job.”

He shivered at the praise. That’s what he had dreamed of hearing from you for months. You picked up the paste again, pumping him harder. His head fell back as he unconsciously reached one hand out to his hidden collar. You were taken aback at the sight of it. How depraved is this guy!? Without thinking, you placed your index and middle fingers in the loop and tugged at it, making him moan like never before while jerking his head back up. You were pretty sure he almost came just from that. 

“First question… How long have you been stalking me?”

“I st–started five months ago Mmm-Ahh… ” He sobbed, it was so hard for him to speak, “Y-you were always so n–nice to me when you N-gh came into the coffee shop. I wanted to kn-know more.”

You’ve been going to that place for about a year, so at least he hasn’t been doing it for that long. You were a bit taken aback that you never suspected anything though. This guy has been either really good or very lucky until now. 

“Do you break into my house often?”

“N-no.”

You abruptly stop touching him, forcing him to speak again.

“I–I swear! I only did it six times!”

He arched his back and whimpered, urging you to stroke him again, which you happily obliged. It was hard not too! 

“P-please u-use me, use me, use me! I want to be your dumb ngAhhh little puppy…” 

The words were spilling out of his mouth with pure urgency and he bucked his hips against your palm uncontrollably. All clear signs that he was close to release. You couldn’t count the number of times you fantasized about turning someone into such a mess, but now that you were experiencing it, your simple imagination was nothing compared to the real thing. Your own self control started to waver the more it went on. Jacce knew that he was about to cross his limit as well, closing his eyes shut, preparing himself. But the grip around his cock loosened, until it completely disappeared. He whined and moved his hips, searching for the touch of your warm hand again. 

“W–why did you stop? I–I told you what you wanted to k-know!” 

You didn’t answer, only looking at him with an indecipherable expression. All the moans, whimpers and other noises he let out, made you so horny that it was becoming too much to bear, but you knew it would make him way too happy to be used to make you cum. You couldn’t let him release either. He didn’t deserve it, not yet anyway. 

“I’m not letting you cum.” 

“Wh-what!? W-why?!” He complained again. 

“You broke into my house and stalked me for five months.” You swiftly got on your feet, “bad boys don’t deserve to ejaculate.”

Bad boy was like the last nail into the coffin for the pathetic mess. In Jacce’s top ten of the worst things you could say to him this one was pretty high. Small tears rolled down his cheeks as a result.  

“You… you’re right… I’m sorry.” He sniffed.

You did feel a little bit bad for making him cry and wanted to fuck him dumb too. No, not tonight. You had to hammer that in your brain to resist your desires. You decided to at least help him a bit before kicking him out. 

“Let's get you cleaned up.” 

“N-no! I–I’m supposed to be the one to–to take care of you.” he whined.

You gave him a stern glance, which shut him up instantly. You came back with a bottle and a wet towel in hand, crouched down in front of him and handed out the water. He took it, chugging it halfway in one go. 

“T-thanks, you’re so nice to me… even when I don’t deserve it.” He whispered, looking away with a subtle smile on his lips. You could sense that, despite his guilty look, he was celebrating this whole situation on the inside. 

With the towel you cleaned off his cock, still covered in a mixture of your spit and his cum. Jacce was looking at you like a puppy who made a mess and was watching his master taking care of it. His breath was getting heavy again and you could feel his cock twitching through the towel. He was totally getting turned on at how gentle and attentive you were to him. This had transformed into the perfect domestic fantasy in Jacce’s twisted mind. 

“I’ll help you to the door if you think your legs aren’t strong enough yet.”

“I thought you accepted me! Can’t I stay!?” 

“I haven’t made my final decision yet.” You crossed your arms,“if you really are a good boy you will let me think about it.”

Hanging over his head the possibility of being yours was enough for him to accept your request. He didn’t even consider the fact that you could call the police the second he leaves. Besides, the fact that you decided to touch him, instead of all the other decisions possible, was making him a bit more confident. After helping him up, you opened the front door and waited for him to leave. Jacce stopped, now the roles were reversed with his figure overtowering you. 

“You promise to think about it?” He whispered anxiously. 

“Yes, now please get out.”

He nodded and you watched Jacce for a bit to make sure he was really leaving, before closing the door. You looked down at the spot where the desperate man was previously sitting. You could feel your guts twist again, urging you to satisfy the heat between your legs. You sighed as you went into your room. The dirty audios you used to listen to were definitely not going to be enough to satisfy you anymore. 

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I love nothing more then making a reader who is horny for the yandere too 😌

Link for the chapter on Ao3

Here is an other old sketch I made for this chapter back in 2023!

[found-pham-ily]

@harvestandhearth

I almost didn't write this because of the amount of hate I was getting but you were so excited I figured one little addition wouldn't hurt.

Tw Cop!Danny if you don't like don't read.

It had been an offhand comment. Walker had notice the ghost boy...now man had seemed upset. Upon hearing Phantom's plight he had made the suggestion, become a cop.

Danny wasn't a fan of cops, too many bad things done under the guise of protecting and serving. But he'd failed at becoming a fire fighter. The heat from one of the training events had all but hospitalized him, which got him kicked out. Thanks to the meta protection acts and the open secret of who he was no one judged him for his weakness.

Then he tried for the Emt route, but between his poor high-school grades effecting any chances at a scholarship and the time he had to spend fighting ghosts he didn't really manage well and ended up dropping out. But hey he picked some stuff up and used that to patch people up post Ghost fights.

He considered a social worker too, but he couldn't exactly fight Ghost on the clock, and the lack of action made it a slog. After so long of being a vigilante, the need for action was a second nature. The Ghost biology needing to fight didn't help either.

Walker's idea buzzed around his head. It made sense in a weird way. He could actually help people, fight Ghost on the clock, and get a decent pay check...

His sister ever the busy body had asked why civil service jobs? Why not go for Nasa like he dreamed of. With the acts repealed and him being labeled a meta he could legally do so. But those damn grades ruined it.

So a cop be became. It was disturbingly easy to become one too. Worrisomely so. He was both good and bad at his job depending who you asked. The people despite their teasing loved him. He had always done his best for them, he only rarely used any form of violence with people, and when needed nothing more then the bare minimal to safely stop them. Hell he'd taken a few bullets from other cops to save people.

The other cops hated him, Danny didn't subscribe to the usually loyalty and standards a cop had. You did something illegal and abused your power he'd report it in such a way consequences had to be given. Yeah he'd keep his partner safe, and did his job well but he broke the status quo. He also made the whole force in Amity look bad. He was so good he made them look incompetent.

But despite all he did Danny wasn't free from the social scrutiny. Both from the living and the dead. Ghost mocked him for becoming lame and joining the cops. Humans just went with the stigma, not unfairly so; and it just fueled him to do his job better. To prove to people that just because he wore a uniform he wasn't full of hate.

Apparently he did his job too well. At least that's what he assumed as he sat in an office a Green Lantern in front of him. "So let me get this straight, you want me to become the face of a civilian branch of the Justice League?" Danny was still bitter about all the help he didn't get as a budding child hero.

"Yes, your work as both a cop and a meta dealing with supernatural threats has gained an online following. We want people to know that we work with the authorities and accept metas in non-hero jobs." Hal could tell the man was suspicious of him. Which wasn't unfair since the league seemed to always recruit metas into hero jobs.

"You wouldn't have to do more then you already do aside the occasional press conference." He continued.

Danny sighed and thought on it, this would secure his job that he knew was on the chopping block due to his 'insubordination'. They couldn't fire him without a major backlash if he had the Justice League on his side. But he didn't like the idea of being some sort of symbol. He just wanted to help protect people, and maybe throw some punches with some ghosts. He was a simple man after all.

"Fine but I want the medical benefits the League offers." Medical was expensive, and while Danny healed faster then the average person that didn't effect the initial bills. And he had to go to the hospital for paperwork's sake.

"That can be arranged." Hal was just glad he didn't get the expected rejection from the ex-teen hero.

[mareastrorum]

Adding onto this. I'm an attorney, but I don't work in this area.

Get an estate planning attorney. Don't rely on services like Legal Zoom because they're literally just forms that may not be the best option for you or your family. You want a lawyer for the advice.

Family, estate, trust, guardianship/conservatorship, and adoption laws all vary by state. They don't change very often, but they can be difficult to navigate. What the documents are called, what they can do, and what happens without them all vary by state. Get an attorney licensed in the state where you live.

Most attorneys in this practice area offer packages like (a) a simple will alone, (b) a full set of documents, (c) trusts + other docs, etc. These packages usually are meant to cover a certain amount of hours working on the documents, including the back and forth discussions and going in to sign the documents with witnesses and a notary. Your retainer agreement will likely mention that if they go over that number of hours, there's an additional charge; it's unlikely that prepping the plan would take more than 10 lawyer/paralegal hours except in complex cases. Depending on the attorney's experience and geographical area, it may be a few hundred dollars for a package.

Some attorneys may suggest an hourly rate instead of a package. Don't psyche yourself into thinking you'll save money because you'll save money by not asking questions. You should ask questions. Get a package. People who need to pay an hourly rate (for however long it takes) are people who have so much money and so many assets to account for, they don't really worry about the rate or the hours.

Before you meet with an attorney, make a basic list of what you're worried about. Do you have property or savings that need to be taken into account? Do you have kids? Is anyone on their second+ marriage? A good attorney will have a pretty comprehensive questionnaire or interview to figure out your needs, but you still want to go in with a general idea so that you're ready to talk about it.

You may want to ask the attorney if they work in more than just estate planning. An attorney that also does probates, adoptions, guardianships, etc. is actually a good sign because that attorney has a better idea of what happens when things go wrong. Some firms have attorneys that do one area, but they group to share their clients as they need each of these services. It's not uncommon, and it's not a bad thing.

Basic list of potential documents you may need (again, varying by state):

Will: When you die, who gets your assets after your debts are paid? If you don't decide this, the state has default "intestate" rules that may fuck over your partner, kids, etc. This is the document where you ask your attorney if there's ways to ensure that your partner and all dependents will receive what you want them to even if your legal relationships are invalidated. (Sometimes, a will can direct all assets to a first choice, then to a second choice, and if it turns out someone is still underage, hold the assets in a trust. They can be conditional sometimes!)

Personal property designation (sometimes can be separate from the will): When you die, do you have specific items of personal property (NOT MONEY OR LAND) that you want to go to specific people? For example, maybe you want to leave everything of value to your partner, but you have a Babe Ruth baseball for a cousin. Maybe you want to avoid your family fighting over who gets what pieces in your Beanie Baby collection. You'll be dead; let everyone be angry at you instead of each other.

Guardianship nomination (may be part of another document): Who would you nominate as guardian of your children and wards if you (and your spouse) die or are incapacitated? THIS IS INCREDIBLY IMPORTANT IF YOU ARE NOT IN A CISHET MARRIAGE. BOTH OF THOSE THINGS: CISHET AND MARRIAGE.

Financial Power of Attorney: Who do you want to handle all of your assets if you are incapacitated? Literally everything. This person could fleece you, so it has to be someone you trust not to do that. Often times, you can also name a backup in case your chosen person is incapacitated, and it's suggested in case you and your partner get into an accident. (NOTE: Sometimes, if you are a single person with a fair amount of assets, it can be a good idea to name your attorney. This might be a preferred option if your next of kin cannot be trusted. It costs money, but if you are at all worried about what your family might do, at least have that discussion with your attorney so you can learn your options.)

Healthcare Power of Attorney: Who do you want to make all medical decisions if you are incapacitated? Who do you trust to make decisions you would have wanted? Who do you think could handle this without getting their own emotions in the way? Who would actually be available where you live to make those decisions? You can also name a backup for this as well.

HIPAA authorization: Who is allowed to access your medical records if you are incapacitated? This should at least match your healthcare POA, and you may want to allow biological relatives to do this too if you have any genetic predispositions.

Health Care Directive/"Living Will": Do you want to be resuscitated if your heart stops? You can decide either way, but this means your next of kin doesn't have to make a snap decision on your behalf while you are actively dying.

Trust: The utility and purpose of a trust HEAVILY VARIES BY STATE AND YOUR CIRCUMSTANCES. For example, they are super popular in California, but they're usually excessive in Washington. There's also different kinds of trusts. Ask your attorney what the benefits would be over a traditional will. Maybe it's worth it, maybe it's not.

This is a scary time. Making a plan means you're ready if something goes wrong. Breathe, talk with your loved ones, and make a plan.

Before January 2025:

If you are a USAmerican in a relationship that might be affected by legislation that dissolves same-sex marriages, who may no longer be recognized as next-of-kin, especially if you have children, get your rights in writing!

Your marriage certificate may not be enough to prove you have rights to make medical decisions for non-biological children or for a same-sex spouse or partner.

Go to a lawyer, get it spelled out as clearly as possible that you have a voice in emergency medical and legal situations.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

not me doomposting about l*ona again

I pointed out in an older post that Leona seems to demonstrate a unique ability to unite others under a common cause. This is in spite of the lore stating that it's very difficult to get different kinds of beastmen to see eye-to-eye, so much so that Sunset Savanna's acting king, his older brother, has yet to really unify their people.

WELL.

***Spoilers for Leona's Nightmare Suit vignettes below the cut!***

A central theme to Leona's Nightmare Suit vignettes is figuring out what makes someone worthy of being "king". At the start, everyone is reminded of Jack Skellington's status as the "King of Halloween, which makes him the most important person in town. However, Leona's quick to point out that the title isn't what's important, but what one achieves is. He then expresses interest in what it is exactly that Jack Skellington does around here to earn his crown. Jack describes his duties as making Halloween the scariest it can possibly be. He drives around in his buggy, walks his dog Zero through the local cemetery, studies and conducts experiments, and reviews the proposals from Halloween Town residents. An important part of his job is considering his people's ideas! But Leona thinks there could be a more efficient way to do this rather than having the king read the proposals one by one. We can see a divide between their ways of thinking; Jack is willing to hear individuals out whereas Leona is focused on efficiency. This is also reflected in how they assign tasks later in the vignettes. Jack has everyone going up one ladder to decorate, while Leona commands the witches to do this task, as its much faster for them to do on their brooms. I don't know if this was intentional, but the way Jack rules feels reminiscent to how Leona often describes his older brother, Farena/Falena. So often does Leona mention that Falena is too kind and cares too much for others, which impedes on the political and economic gains he could be making if he were just more focused on his goals. “[Falena] could just focus on the kingdom’s affairs–you know, his JOB–but nooo, he’s gotta be the caring big brother who’s nice to everybody." (If you want to read a more in-depth analysis of Falena vs Leona's priorities when it comes to ruling, please read this post.)

Leona claims that the qualifications for king around here are actually really simple--and yeah, maybe there's nothing more to his line than this, but considering that in his home country one's order of birth is also a strong determinant, a merit-based system like what's seen in Halloween Town probably is simpler to him. And that means it's his time to shine and be acknowledged when he wasn't successful at earning this recognition back home.

Now, what REALLY surprised me in these vignettes wasn't that Leona knows how to boss around his peers and put their strengths to use (for example, he tells Vil, who has an eye for detail, to look over the embroidery, and Idia, who is a science and math whiz, to handle difficult calculations). It's that Leona is also perfectly aware of the abilities of the Halloween Town residents--people he has only known for less than three days--and uses them and their skills well too. That's an insanely short amount of time to get to know an entire TOWN'S worth of people and what each of them are like... yet he just pulls it off effortlessly????? HUH... This earns him the praise of Dr. Finkelstein, the mayor, Jack, Sally, and Skully. Sally in particular highlights Leona's strengths very concisely, stating that he can accurately assess the situation and give appropriate directions on how to act in that situation. Skully adds that Leona technically doesn't move himself or do any of the dirty work, he's focused solely on giving orders. This makes him a "king" and a leader of equal standing as Jack Skellington. And then Skully--SKULLY, THE OBSESSED HALLOWEEN OTAKU THAT THINKS HALLOWEEN SHOULD BE A VERY SPECIFIC WAY--says that Halloween was made possible by not one, but two great kings this year. It just goes to show how much one can truly accomplish when not barred by a negative environment and a lack of social support.

One definition of "king" that is offered in these vignettes is "the one who can bring everyone together". That's certainly something that both Leona and Jack do, albeit in very different ways. But then, at the end of the Halloween Town segment of the vignettes, Leona acknowledges that "king" can be defined another way. He realizes that Jack is recognized as king not just because he's a leader, but because he's also needed and loved by the townspeople. This, too, is a "king". However, it seems that this is a definition that Leona somewhat looks down upon, as he basically apologizes to Jack for not thinking highly of him at first. Again, Leona prioritizes getting shit done, no matter what the cost of it may be--and even if it earns him the ire of others. This, as I said earlier, puts him in stark contrast to Jack, as well as his own older brother. But here and now, we have Leona finally seeing the strength that a different kind of ruling can have instead of always speaking so disparagingly about it. Even if it's just a little... it feels like he's growing and learning, doesn't it?

The vignettes end on flashing forward to Leona back at Savanaclaw dorm. A few of his freshmen students are goofing off right before magift/spelldrive practice is about to start. As soon as Leona shows up, the freshmen snap to attention and rush off to change for practice. Jack (Howl, not Skellington, lol) remarks that usually the other first years are so lazy, but their attitudes completely changed when their dorm leader appeared. Ruggie chimes in, saying that Leona keeps the entire dorm in line... THJBAEBVUFAEIYAFIOYBVADFILH ThEN HE CALLS THEIR KING THE BEST... AND JACK AGTREESS... WHAT DO YOU MEAN, SHUT THE FUCK UPAS ALREADY STOP POGINTONG OUT HE'S A AGOODFK leADER DFOR YOUE AEPEOPLE YADFJKHAFLIYVDGVYUADGVUEGAVN

In response to the praise, Leona says that simply scolding misbehaving students doesn't make you a king. If it were as simple as that, it would be a pretty cheap throne build only on flattery. The vignettes end with him telling everyone to move their asses to practice. lh WDBHFAIYOEAIYEIYF BUT TAHAT'S PRETY YMASSIVE FOR HS CHARACTER... These vignettes demonstrate that Leona's not fixated on the title of king, but what it means to truly "be" a king and leader. He doesn't value being called a "king" if he feels it's easily earned, he wants to prove himself worthy of it and earn that title through his talents. This all circles back to a thought I had a while ago: that what Leona is after isn't the literal seat of king, but all the things that come with it but was denied of in his childhood. Respect, admiration, recognition for his abilities.

And 💦 Leona doesn’t realize it yet (either that, or he’s in complete denial) but… He also fits that second definition of “king” 😭 He’s the type of person that gets things done (like what he believes should define a king) BUT GIS DORM MEMBERS ALL ALSO NEED AND LOVE HIM…

OOoogohoggoOGH... OTL I hate how well it comes together...

[gamblersdoll]

hi hun! Love ya work and everything bout it 😼😼 deserve more recognition fr I’m not too sure bout your rules for asks so feel free to deny but but but it’s rotting at my brain and I need it satisfied 😞 but reader being a brat and bakugo going to punish her at home but then she falls sick and it turns into domestic bakugo taking care of reader mhm? I’m so sick rn and I want domestic but I also want like Ughughugh idk babe do what you want with it just brain worms LOL

implied smut, fluff, comfort, domestic katsuki !

ping!

the notification goes instantly to his phone, you putting your phone down and laying against the mattress the both of you shared. your phone immediately goes off, taking a peak and its just him rambling to himself practically..

‘im going to fuck you up.’

‘keep playin with me at work and im going to play in your pussy next.’

you smile to the phone, but your stomach somewhat churns for whatever reason. you probably have another stomach bug, being prone to stomach issues and back issues. you reply really quickly, tossing your phone and groaning into the pillow in the fetal position.

it doesnt take long for him to get home, however. he busting through the room and seeing you curled up, he thinks your ready for him to take you like he did last weekend.. but something’s off, your skin is greenish and clammy. “hey.. you good? the matter?”

“dont feel good.” you mumble, hands clutch your stomach and moan. “sorry.. i know you were excited about fucking—“

“hoe, shut up.” he grunts, scooping you up and taking you to the bathroom. “where does it hurt?” he asks, watching you lift your shirt and he feels around. “here?” he asks, rubbing your neck and kissing your cheek. “sounds like you got another stomach virus.”

“yeah.. you dont have to be around—“

“didnt i just tell you to hush it?” he asks, flicking your head and starting a bath. the waters’ cool, him slowly settling you inside. “sit here for a sec, relax and ill fix some food.” he mumbles, talking about hes calling for the next week.

“you dont have to..” you mumble watching him untie his boots.

“i do, because i know im going to get sick and its for sickness and in health, stupid.” he replied, glaring at you. “you do know that i love you, right?”

you nod, feeling some what better.

eventually, he has you take some herbal tea and put you on the bed. “just rest, youll be okay— and we’ll figure it out.”

“are you mad that we cant fuck..?”

“have you or have you not been dating me for four years?” he asks like you had six heads, putting a hand on your stomach. “no im not mad, yes i still love you, no i wont hold it against you, no im not mad i got to miss work, yes i will stay with you.”

note taken.

[strwberri-milk]

hi! I love ur works they're all so sweet☹️ i was wondering if i could maybe request the l&ds men with a reader who has a constant tummy ache😔 i wake up, tummy ache, on my period, tummy ache, i try to sleep, tummy ache. it's a constant pain💔💔

anyways thank you so much and have a wonderful day🩷🩷🩷

lowkey stomachaches are so uncomfortable :(( same w headaches for me i say as though thats not the whole reason why theyre called aches

Zayne is immediately on you to try and figure out if there's something else going on that is leading to the fact that you have chronic stomachaches. His brain doesn't really turn off when it comes to doing things for your health so he can't really help but try to solve you problem.

Regardless, he's very good at giving you things to soothe your stomach, figuring out what sorts of things he can give you to help settle it. If you just want his presence, you got it but not without also drinking something or eating something easy to digest to make sure you at least get some nutrients that also help you feel better.

Xavier strikes me as the kind of person who doesn't really suffer from aches and pains or if he does he just totally ignores them so he's not sure what to do. He'll ask if you want medicine or some sort of tea he heard helps settle an upset stomach. He'll ask periodically if you're feeling better and tends to get you foods that he knows you can stomach because he doesn't want to accidentally make things worth.

Rafayel will practically be holding you even more than usual, palm over your stomach as he lightly uses his evol to act as a heating pad. He'll also massage your stomach absentmindedly, paying attention to your reactions to ensure that he doesn't accidentally make things too warm, or too rough. He'll also learn how to cook better meals for you if needed, wanting to feed you and shower you with attention to help you feel better.

Sylus also keeps his hand over your stomach, cooing at you gently whenever it gets really bad and asking what things you want. He'll spoil you with attention and treats - literally anything you want, he has it but amplified to 10 because he hates knowing that you're hurting and he can't do anything about it. He'll check in on you often, asking if you're feeling better or if there's anything else he could do to besides dote on you.

[illiath-the-fae]

As I'm currently in the process of returning to my original country, given that my adopted home is now full on fascist, here's a few things anyone needs to be aware of. I have done this once before when moving to my current country, so I remember most of my pitfalls.

Make sure you have passports and other ID as appropriate (talked about a bit before, obviously).

In addition to the ID and passport and all that, make sure you have multiple copies, including some stored in your stuff in a waterproof document case. You might not be able to return to get copies in the future, so get them BEFORE you go.

When it comes to your stuff, make sure you triple check what is, and what is not, allowed to go to the other country. Those glasses you want to bring? Might be banned in the other country due to something with the glass. Those wall ornaments? Might be banned due to having wood in them. Medications? Make sure you have prescriptions for them, or replace them when you get to the new country. DO NOT try to send/take something to another country if you can't point to how it is okay by the available documentation the other country provides. This goes for EVERYTHING you intend to take.

Obviously, this one is important, make sure you are actually allowed to move there. There are many countries that just won't allow immigration without a long and complicated process that can't happen while you are in-country. There are also countries that have already said they're extending asylum rules for transpeople and other LGBTIQ+ folks. However asylum rules are STRICT about what you can and can't bring with you.

Pay attention to the rules of the country you are going to, look up the "core laws" as much as you can before going, check anything that has been recently legalized in your originating country, etc. A little over a decade now my partner and I were going to move to another country, but there was questions if they'd accept our marriage as being legal. Even my medications at one time caused concerns with international travel, and what was legal and what wasn't.

You WILL be taking less stuff than you think you will. No matter what you have to take, no matter how little you have, things will get lost/destroyed/confiscated by customs/whatever. So figure out those things you HAVE to have, make sure you have copies (if they're documents), and try to "hand-carry" as much stuff as you can.

You might NOT be able to take your pets. Seriously. Some countries absolutely forbid you from bringing your pet with you, no matter what it is. Some of those have ways to allow it, but be prepared to not have your pet for up to a year if you do that. And you'll need to pay for it not to be with you for that year too.

I can give much more advice, but it's specific to situation/country/etc.

Anybody have advice/resources for emigrating out of a country?

To answer your questions 1) yes, this is a sincere and legitimate request 2) yes, I'm aware this process is long and laborious (unless things escalate to the point we need to go full refugee which God forbid) and 3) it would be two adults (40s, advanced degrees, decent if not ideal health) and two minors.

[joannasprose]

ellie williams x nervous!reader

content warning: slight insecurity, a nervous girl who doesn’t know what to do with herself, fluff, comfort (as always), vague angst, proofread this time! (proofread but not edited, sorry I’m lazy!)

note: I found this in my drafts, I didn’t even know I made something like this and decided to post it :) also you can thank my mind (in good ways and bad), because I have another Ellie post that will be ready soon 👀 trying so badly not to post back to back though 💜 (this one is a little rushed and not as good as my others because I completely forgot what it was about 🫡)

| ellie can tell that there’s something up with you. when you finally tell her, she can’t help but be slightly amused.

———

ellie’s hand has yet to leave the small of your back. as the two of you walk through the unfamiliar bar, you cling onto her a little more tightly.

she watches you—unbeknownst to you—as your brows furrow, as you begin to chew the flesh of your cheek. “you okay,” she questions, now leading you over to what you assumed to be the bathroom, closing the door and locking it behind you.

her hand moves slowly to the side of your waist, pulling you closely towards her, holding you gently. you smile, a nervous one as your arms nervously wrap around the sides of her shoulders and loop around her. “yeah. i’m okay, i’m just…” but you’ve stopped yourself.

it had now been four months since both you and ellie had started dating. even then, before she knew of your feelings—her actions had never failed to make you nervous. sure, she had her moments where she would stumble over her words while a rosy hue coated her cheeks. but the moment she had figured you out, the teasing became relentless. not that you minded it, though.

“I’m fine. It’s fine.” you say, eyes once leaving every inch of her figure and darting to the tiled floors, the decorative picture frames—anything but her.

“Y/N,” ellie says, the softness of her eyes never leaving as she spoke, “tell me what’s on your mind. you know I won’t judge.” her hand abandons your waist, now grazing over the skin of your cheek, holding you gently.

“It’s stupid. It’s nothing really,” you begin. this time ellie doesn’t interrupt, practically forcing you continue on with your ramble. “the people. they make me nervous. and you—“ you say but interrupt yourself. you almost don’t see it. the way ellie’s eyes flicker in guilt, the way her grip on you loosens subtly, as if to free you from the overwhelming feeling of her presence.

“no-no. that’s not what I meant.” you say as you scramble for words. abruptly, you pull her closer to you, a tightening hug that she embraces with you when the feeling subsides. slightly.

“you just. when I’m around you, I don’t know what to do with myself. you make me nervous, it’s just embarrassing. and yeah, I know we’ve been dating for a couple of months now,” ellie watches as you continue with your ramble, the words falling from your tongue mindlessly. she just waits, watches, “but I don’t know. It’s stupid. I’m sorry.”

ellie pauses, and she looks at you, pulling away just to see your face. you look away, eyes finding the hem of her shirt but she pulls her hand to your cheek, making you look at her now. “I make you nervous?” even if you hadn’t looked at her, you could practically hear the smile on her lips. you push her away, now embarrassed.

“ellie, stop,” you say, dragging out the letter p when you say it. You try to sound irritated, but you find yourself fighting away a smile.

“What? I like seeing my girl smile,” she begins, grabbing your waist, pulling you closer to her as the music from the house becomes distorted, slowing becoming nothing but background noise. “And, I don’t want you worrying about anything okay?” ellie backtracks, nearly cringing at her words, “not that, I could just make you not worry, you know? Like I’m not forcing you or anything. I hope it didn’t come out that way.” this time, you find comfort in ellie’s loosely put words.

And as you smile, when you smile, she stops, watching you like she always has.

“It’s okay ellie. I get it.” You pull her closer to you, and this time you don’t hesitate when you push your lips against hers. for a moment, her lips are still, presumably in slight shock—but she quickly recuperates and kisses you back.

after a moment, you pull away and speaks, “you’re not shy anymore? you can kiss me now?”

you shove ellie playfully away from you, muttering asshole, under your breath.

In the height of the night, even with your undying anxiety, you’d always known ellie would be there to comfort you no matter what.



[teliphone]

Corrupt Desire

Summary: You’re an FBI agent who successfully captured the deadliest hitman, Rio Vidal. You hate to admit you have fallen in love with the criminal. Rio's psychotic games rope you back into her life. Just as she calculated, you can’t help but fall to your knees for her. Her beauty and sinister mind make her too irresistible. 

Warning(s): Smut, Oral, Fingering, Manipulation. 

Word Count: 5.9k 

-

“Put your bag in the bin please,” The security guard orders from the side. You take your large bag off your shoulders and place it into the bin. The guard slides it past the metal scanner and gestures to you to step forward. Before you can grab your bag, a female guard stops you. She snaps on light-blue latex gloves as she looks at your figure up and down with a stern face. 

“I have to search your body for any weapons or illegal substances,” She explains. You shyly smile and nod your head. A body search is a requirement when entering through this specific prison. She walks over til she is face to face with you. Her blue eyes stare briefly into yours, causing you to glance at the ceiling. She starts to run her fingers along your arms. Then you feel her slide down your hips to your thighs. Her fingers tug around the inside of your waistband. Lastly, she quickly slides along your core area. You feel a small blush appear out of embarrassment.

“You’re clear,” She reports. You quietly thank her and straighten yourself to grab your bag. She nods her head and tosses the gloves into the trash. She disappears behind the security door. You reach into the bag and shuffle around to find your ID card. You press the card against the glass and the front desk security writes your information down. The gates buzz and unlock. You tighten your grip on your bag and hesitate to step ahead. Before you can proceed, gates swing open and a man with a gray beard walks out. Judging by his badge you could tell he is the head warden of the prison. His button-up shirt is wrinkled with an obvious coffee stain around the stomach area. You avert your eyes up to his face to avoid staring. 

“You must be the FBI agent coming to interview Rio Vidal,” He assumes while rubbing his belly. You feel your stomach turn at the mention of her. 

“Yes, it’s nice to meet you,” You greet with a smile. You bring out a hand to shake, but he looks away too soon. You stare at your awkward hand with an embarrassing blush before placing it back on your side. He starts walking down the halls while explaining to you about the interview you were about to conduct. You quicken your steps to catch up with him. You glance around the hall, examining how everything is locked up and secured. It is also eerie quiet. 

“-Rio refuses to speak with anyone but you,” He informs, bringing your attention back to him. You furrow your eyebrows.

“Why?” You question. He lets out a dry chuckle as if you just asked a silly obvious question. He doesn’t respond which makes you want the world to swallow you full. He leads you to another gate, a step closer to where the prisoners are stationed. He stops walking and presses his key card on a scanner. The gate buzzes and clicks open again. He opens the gate for you and gestures to you through. As you walk in, you take a peek through a random room and accidentally make eye contact with an inmate. Tattoos coated his whole skin and his dark eyes are calculated. He is getting checked up by a police officer. The inmate tilts his head slowly and smirks. He looks at you hungrily and jerks his hand up and down in a provocative gesture. The officer snaps his finger in front of the inmate and yells at him to focus. You quickly look away and grimace in disgust. 

“Sorry about that. Most inmates here have been locked up for ages… they tend to get hot pants,’ He laughs, ‘We get the most dangerous criminals in our facility. Our security is more uptight. It’s hard to do anything around here… if you know what I mean.” 

He lets out another chuckle, proud of his humor. You give him a nervous forced laugh. Thankfully he buys it and continues showing you the way. 

“About Rio… you mentioned she refuses to talk to anyone?” You bring her back into the topic. The reason why you’re here in the first place. 

“Correct. Many officers and detectives have been trying to get her to speak. All she says is to bring you,” He answers. You nibble your bottom lip and feel anxiety creeping up. It was one simple reason: you were the one who got her caught and arrested. 

“How… has she been?” You ask. 

“She’s quiet and lonely. No one dares to talk to ‘lady of death’.” He chuckles at the nickname that has spread throughout the prison. You look down at the floor. You clench your hands around the strap of your bag and shake your head. No, you shouldn’t feel bad. She’s a criminal. 

Before you know it, you have finally reached a room with a gate. It’s guarded by two guards with a rifle attached to their bodies. They stand with their heads lifted high. Their faces lack emotion. You have never seen someone guarding a door with guns that big. You wonder if that was necessary. The Warden notices your staring. 

“We need to take great precautions with Rio,” He explains. He unlocks the gate and you peek inside. There is a simple table with two chairs placed on opposite sides. There is nothing much else in the room, to limit any harm that could be done. You tug your bag closer to your body. 

“You don’t need to worry. There will be a guard inside the room with you. We will be watching in a room next door with the cameras we placed,” He assures. You weren’t necessarily nervous about getting harmed. You were anxious about seeing her. Nevertheless, you squeeze a smile at him and start walking into the room. You notice the installed camera in the top left corner. A camera that doesn’t voice record and only visually records. You take a seat furthest from the door. You place your bag down and pull out a file, notepad, and a pen. You place your hands on top of the notepad and start playing with your fingers. The waiting game is eating you up, making you more nervous than ever. You self-cautiously brush your hair to make yourself look decent and press your lips together to try and get some color in it. It has been a long time since you have last seen her. You stop your movement and drop your shoulders. You feel guilty thinking about the past. Guilty about the things you did to her. 

-

You were placed on a top-secret case by your FBI team. Rio Vidal is the deadliest hitman. The mission was simple: Get close to Rio and get her to let her guard down so she can be captured. The only reason why you were chosen is because Rio has a history of being with younger women. You didn’t realize how much she trusted you until the doors of her apartment were getting kicked down. She quickly rushed to shield you. You feel your heart crack in guilt. Officers full of gear rushed in and pulled you away from her while the other half grabbed her. She thrashed against their hold. You yell at the officers to be more gentle on her as she is being shoved onto the ground to be handcuffed. Your FBI partner walked over and gave you a pat on the back. Usually, you would be happy, but in this case, you couldn’t. When Rio looked at you, you could see the realization sink in. It was a slight movement, but you saw it. Her eyebrows furrowed, and her eyes expressed hurt. Just as quickly as you saw it, as fast it disappeared. She replaced it with a cold-hearted smile. You tense up and freeze. That’s the last sight you saw of her. 

-

You see a body appear behind the gate. The bright color orange catches your eyes first. You feel your heart stop pounding. There is Rio Vidal in the orange prison uniform. She stares at you with an unexplainable expression. You nervously gulp. The gate swings open and the guards push her to take a step. She stumbles a little. Her hands are cuffed with loose chains around her ankle. The metal chain sounds loud in the quiet room. The guards shove her into the seat and she lets out a soft grunt. You flinch at their actions. You believe they didn’t have to be that aggressive with her. They turn around and start to leave.

“Excuse me,” Rio speaks up. Her voice sounds deeper and raspier than you remembered. The guards stop in their tracks and look over. She brings her handcuffed hands up and waves them. 

“How can I have a pleasant time with my date if I’m cuffed?” She smiles. You feel your cheeks warm up. They look at you for permission in which you nod your head. You trust she won’t do anything. Rio smirks and brings her hand to the guards. She watches closely as they take out a key and start unlocking her handcuffs and chains. She slowly rolls her free wrists and hums in delight. The deep sound from her throat makes you gulp. Finally, one guard leaves while one remains in the room near the door. Rio turns her body fully to face you. You take note of her features. Prison hasn’t been gentle to her. Her eyes look tired and wrinkles are starting to form. But even with that, you couldn’t deny the attractiveness that she holds. She tilts her head up as she examines you as well. She bites her lower lip to try and conceal her excitement. 

“I missed you,” She confesses. You avert your eyes to the guard and back to her. You feel embarrassed to have someone else hear a criminal flirting with you. She narrows her eyes and shakes her head. 

“If you can’t keep your attention on me. I want him out of the room,” She demands. You widen your eyes. 

“That is unnecessary,” You explain. 

“If you don’t get him out of the room. I refuse to talk,” She says. You furrow your eyebrows at her. She shrugs her shoulders and leans back onto the chair. She playfully looks around the room to keep herself entertained. 

“Rio…” You try getting her attention. She ignores you. You let out a sigh. This is no good. You need to get the job done. You look at the guard and gesture at him to leave. He hesitates at first but decides to listen. Rio’s lips curl into a smile when she hears the gate behind her close. She places her hands on the table and leans forward. An attempt to close the distance. You lean back, but the back of the chair limits you. 

“Finally. Just you and me,” She grins. You let out a shaky breath. Your eyes flicker down to her lips in a second, but she catches it. Your hand slides to grab a pen. You click it and place it against the notepad. 

“I am here to talk to you about the victims you killed-“

“Did you miss me?” She cuts. She smiles innocently. Her eyes are wide like a doe, except you know she is far from innocent. The woman in front of you is sinister and well-calculated. 

“Rio, that is inappropriate to ask,” You warn, fidgeting with the pen. She ignores you and continues talking while playfully tapping her fingertips against the table surface. 

“You came sooner than I expected. Couldn’t resist seeing me?” She teases. You accidentally grip the pen harder til your knuckles turn white. 

“I am here for my job. Not for you,” You snap. She widens her eyes as she smiles, trying to act offended. 

“Will you look at that? You seem to have grown into your big boy pants,” She snickers. You were about to snap back til you narrowed your eyes at her. Her lips start to twitch. 

You know what she was doing. She was trying to rail you up and observe if she can still control your emotions. You knew she was secretly obsessed with dominance. You’ve seen it sparkle in her eyes when you fall into her schemes. She had made you go against your morals and unknowingly act like a puppet on a string. 

“I am not going to play your games this time,” You grumble. 

“Oh sweetie… you’ve already stepped into my playground,” She whispers. Chills run down your spine, but you try your best to ignore her. You slide a photo of one of her victims in front of her. You point your finger at it. 

“Tell me why you decided to kill this man,” You order. She tilts her chin down to look at the victim. She fakes a yawn and shrugs her shoulders. 

“He deserved it,” She sighs in boredom. You slide another photo to be side by side. 

“How about him?”

“Same thing,” 

“Him?” You add another photo. She gives the photo a quick glance, not even trying to fully look. 

“I didn’t kill him,” She addresses. She brings up her short fingernails to inspect. She notices a little dirt and focuses on digging it out. You let out a disbelief sigh, feeling your frustration building. 

“Yes, you did,” You remind her slowly. She lifts her head in amused shock. She leans her head to take a good look at the photo. Her eyes scan the face and then light up.

“Oh! Yes, yes I remember him now. I must have forgotten,’ she giggles, ‘Men look and act too alike.’ You quickly jot it down. You already knew this about her, but it is a small start. 

“So all these men have the same characteristic,” You repeat. She groans and rests her chin on her hand. 

“Yes, isn’t it obvious?” She mumbles. 

“I just need a clarification-“ She cuts you off by saying your name. The way your name rolls off her tongue sends a chill down your spine. It’s the dominating tone she loves to use. You immediately stop talking. You peek up at her between your lashes. She licks her bottom lip and dramatically waves her hand.

“I’ve been waiting for so long to see you and all you’re talking about is some foolish men?!” She fake cries. She pauses between her amusement to think. You furrow your eyebrows at her random action. Suddenly she brings her hand out to touch yours. Her rough fingertips rub the softness of your skin. Your mind storms with thoughts. You fight against yourself from enjoying her touch. Your breathing shakes. The corner of her lips curl into a smile when she realizes your inner struggle. Reality kicks in and you jerk your hand away. Your eyes dart to the camera. There are people on the other side watching. You didn't want them to see. She narrows her eyes and smiles daringly. She can tell you’re worried about the camera. You glare at her, ignoring the pounding of your heart. She pouts and returns her hand to her side. Your tense body starts to relax as you see her lean away. You thought it was the end of her playfulness, but it was just the beginning. 

“They can’t hear us,” She whispers. Suddenly you feel her foot dragging up your calves slowly. You widen your eyes at her to try and stop her. But that was pointless. You self cautiously nibble your bottom lip to ignore the build-up in your lower stomach. You dry swallow and force yourself to look normal. Her eyes darken when she realizes you’re not pulling away. She figures that underneath the table away from view is where she can mess around. 

“I’ve been lonely here,” She sighs, drawing small circles with her fingers on the table. You couldn’t speak as if she cast a spell on you. She drags her foot higher, touching the inner side of your knee. You let out a soft hick in your breath. Your cheeks start to feel warm.  

“Rio,” You warn vocally. She points a finger at you in a taunting way. 

“Let me ask you questions,” She glares. You couldn’t believe how easy it was for her to switch roles. You feel your jaw clench. Why are you so weak around her? It was as if you were the one in handcuffs.

“Did someone touch you while I’m in here?” She challenges. She asks in a joking tone, but you know better. You keep your face stone cold and refuse to talk. Her smile slowly drops. 

She misread you. 

She starts laughing like a maniac with her head tilted back which exposes her bare neck. Within a second she slams her fist onto the table. Your heart skips a beat in fear. Her face darkens and she clenches her jaw. The guard pounds onto the gate as a warning. 

“Who was it?” She commands. How dare she accuse you of such action. You lean close to her face. Her eyes waver at your presence, secretly enjoying your closeness. She nearly leans in, but she composes herself. 

“I am nothing like you,” You grimace. Your expression was laced with disgust. 

“Oh, but you are… admit it,” She taunts. You break eye contact to look down. The room is starting to get stuffy. You shift in your seat uncomfortable.

Rio knew this little part of you the moment she laid eyes on you. You were too infatuated with her crimes. You were never scared around her. You wanted to understand, but the lines between investigation and interest started to blur. You enjoy the chaos that Rio brings… and you hate that. You wanted to just be a normal FBI agent, but everyone else around you is too simple-minded. You needed a spark in which Rio satisfies. 

A nudge of her foot brings you back. Before you can react, she leans her body across the table to invade your space. She inhales your scent and sighs in pleasure. She misses you so much she couldn’t believe how long she was able to last without you. She tilts her head til her lips reach your ears. 

“You feel sick that you love me,” She whispers. Your heart slams against your chest. 

She caught you. The real truth.

You shove yourself away from the table. The chair squeaks awfully against the floor. Photos and papers flutter around and drop. Rio lets out a sickening cackle during the chaos. The guards barge through the gate and rush in. She puts her hand up in surrender. They roughly pull her arms back to handcuff her. She grunts in pain as they manhandle her. The warden rushes to your side to check up on you. 

“Are you alright?” He worries. You place a hand on your racing heart and dry swallow. You glance over to see Rio being dragged out of the room. She tries to give you one last look, but the guards tug her. 

“I am fine,” You reply, brushing your clothes in an attempt to collect yourself. You shakingly grab your bag. You give him a forceful smile before walking out. As you walk down the long hallway you place a hand on your forehead as a headache kicks in. 

-

You slam your hands against the metal table. The tight handcuffs around your wrist are starting to hurt. The detective in front of you rarely budges. Her gray suit hugs her curves well. She points at the bank blueprint. 

“Tell me how you planned the heist,” She orders.

“I didn’t do it!” You argue. She narrows her eyes and leans back into the chair. She tries to read you deeper. You didn’t understand how you got into this position. The detectives are accusing you of a bank heist on which you truly had no time to do. You’ve asked for your FBI team, but the police station refuses to allow you to talk to others. 

“Then explain to me why the robbers knew your name and address. They told us that you were the one who hired them,” She argues. She slams more photos onto the table. Evidence that shows purchasing receipts under your name and many more. You shake your head in shock and confusion. All of this does not make sense. You look up at her with pleading eyes. 

“Please let my FBI team handle this case. It wasn’t me,” You cry. It was a setup, but from who? There are plenty of people who are against you due to your label. The detective shakes her head and starts collecting the papers. She stands up and tugs her suit.

“If you’re not going to cooperate with me. We’ll find another day to discuss. Have fun being locked up for the time being,” She states as she struts away. You tug on the handcuffs and cry out to her. Begging her to let you go and that all of this was a setup. You didn’t care how the metal was digging into your skin. You were innocent. The door shuts, leaving you behind to sob alone in the empty room. 

-

You watch outside the window of the large van carrying other prisoners. Each woman has a different background and crime. You squeeze yourself the furthest away from everyone. You didn’t belong here. The van slows down in front of the prison you were at not long ago. An officer slides the van door open and orders everyone to get out. You helplessly follow along with everyone else. Getting out was a little hard due to the limitations of the handcuffs. The new set of inmates walk in a line to the first room. Everyone is ordered to strip to shower, do a full body search, and then given an orange suit. An officer starts directing everyone to a specific section of the prison when another officer stops you. 

“You. Come with me,” He orders. The other inmates look at you curiously but don’t dare to speak. They start taking a step away from you. You shake your head no, anxiety creeping up. 

“Why?” You squeak. 

He clenches your shoulders and drags you away from the inmates you came in with. You thrash against him til you eventually stop. He tugs you along without saying anything else. You anxiously look around to try and understand where he was bringing you. You notice he was bringing you deeper into the prison. The area begins to be more dark and eerie. You pass by many prison cells. Each is filled with women gawking at you like predators. A few of them whistled and laughed. You’re starting to realize this section of the prison is different from the one you were previously assigned to. 

“W-where are you taking me,” You ask. You try to stop walking, but he continues to push you along. After a few more minutes he stops in front of a prison cell. 

“This is your cell from now on,” He finally speaks up. He removes his hand from your shoulders. You immediately start rubbing the side of your shoulder to ease the gripping pain. He takes out a chain of keys and starts to unlock the cell. The gate swings open and you notice a woman with her back facing you already in it. Your cell partner. You take a step forward to go in, but then quickly stop. The woman in the cell turns around with a sinister smile. 

“Hello, my love,” Rio purrs. Your blood runs cold. You turn and attempt to run, but the officer grabs your body. You fight against him as much as you can. He grunts at the amount of force you're putting out. 

“You can’t put me in here!” You cry out. He pushes you into the cell and slams the gate shut before you can escape. You put your hands out to try and grab him. He quickly slips away and walks down the hallway, ignoring your begging. He disappears and your sobbing quiets down. You clench onto the cold metal gate. It was no use. Shaking, you turn around to face her. She stands at a good distance with a calm expression. 

“Are you done?” She asks. You glare at her venomously. She chuckles, her eyes twinkling. She brings her fingers up to her lips and rubs her bottom. 

“Just you and me again,” She smiles. 

“Don’t touch me,” You warn me. She looks at you offended and points at herself. She shakes her head no slowly.

“You have no authority to order me around anymore. We are both here wearing orange suits-“

“I don’t belong here. It was a mistake,” You huff. She starts laughing a little hard while holding her stomach. She collects herself by letting out one small chuckle. She immediately stops and playfully narrows her eyes at you. She takes a teasing step towards you. You try taking a step back, but the gate traps you. 

“I know it was a mistake,” She starts. Your fearful face starts to drop. Your mind racing with the words she just spoke. 

“I mean… look at you. You wouldn’t even hurt a fly,” She whispers. Once she is in front of you she brings her hands up to your chin, slightly gripping it. She looks lovingly into your eyes. 

“I did this to you,” She whispers a confession. You try to shove her back, but she resists. You’ve lost all your strength from earlier. She grabs your wrist and pulls you away from the gate. She gently pulls you deeper into the room and wraps your hand around her shoulders. She then places her hands around your waist and pulls you close. 

“It was easy really. Planning and planting your name in the heist. It was like playing chess,” She whispers. Her breath tickles your ears. She starts swaying her body, forcing you to follow along. A slow dance as she inhales your hair. 

“You manipulating freak,” You choke out. She lets out a soft hum. Her fingers draw slow circles around your hip. 

“You caused this,” She claims. You close your eyes and clench your jaw. 

“I only have a few more days with you till your silly team takes you away from me,” She sighs, pulling away from the hug. She cups the side of your face with her hands. Her eyes are dilated with need. She leans her face to kiss you, but you turn your head to the side. Your heart has a mind of its own. It is pounding loudly. 

“Don’t do that,” She frowns. She takes your hand to place it on her chest. You can feel the fast beats of her heart underneath your fingers. A blush appears on your cheeks. She truly does feel for you. 

“I’ve been good. I waited for you,” She begs for approval. You turn your face to glare at her again. You were not willing to let your walls down. 

“It was my job to seduce you, what do you not understand?” You snap. She shakes her head in denial. Her pupils are black like the void. You could get lost in them. 

“But you fell in love during the act,” She argues. She wants you to admit the truth. She wants you to stop lying to yourself. Your eyes start to water in anger, confusion, and denial. 

“That’s… not true,” You try to sound truthful. 

“Do you really not feel anything when I do this?” She asks before softly pressing her plump lips against yours. You clench your fist as she rarely deepens the kiss. She gently pulls away to examine your reaction. You let out a shaky breath, chest pumping up and down. She’s a genius body reader. You knew you couldn’t lie anymore. 

“You’re a criminal… I shouldn’t think this way,” You reject her. You feel your eyes starting to tear up. Your inner struggle is resurfacing. She rubs her thumb against your bottom lip. Her eyes fill with love.

“Don’t think… feel,” She whispers before kissing you again. Your mind threatens to come up with lies until you decide to feel. Just like what she said. She’s a psychopath, her moves are always calculated.. but god you love that so much. Even if this is part of her plan to get you to break, you will give in. You love her sick mind. No one else can think the way she does. 

You kiss back with caution. You shamefully believe a small kiss wouldn’t mean anything. She hums between the shared kiss and it stirs something in you. You wanted to hear it again. You press into the kiss with more passion. Your mouth opens to slide your tongue into her mouth. The feeling of need bursts through your body after being kept hidden. Her tongue touches against yours. She smiles between the kisses as she moans again. She knew she successfully broke you again. You were hers and she never felt happier. She never felt this amount of satisfaction when killing men. No, only you were the one to evoke this feeling in her. 

“Kneel,” She demands as she pulls away from the kiss. Your lips are wet, red, and slightly swollen. You try to kiss her again, but she places her hand on your head. She chuckles a little as she pats your head to go down. You look at her with worried eyes, but she gently assures you. You eventually obey her and start to kneel on the cement floor. The ground is rough on your knees. You rub your hands on her thighs before looping your fingers at her waistline. You tug and help her get her pants and panties off. You lick your lips as you stare at her core. She spreads her legs and gently tugs your head to come closer. Her scent clouds your thoughts. 

“Reward me. I’ve been waiting so long,” She begs. You have never heard her this needy before. You give her inner thighs kisses before you split her folds with your fingers. You stick out your wet tongue and slowly lick her clit. She sighs and rubs her fingers through your hair. Your tongue continues to circle her clit so that you can get her more wet. You give her clit a few sucks which causes her to groan softly. She licks her lips and grips your head harder. Your tongue drags along her slit and back up to her clit. Her juice is starting to leak out more. You hum in satisfaction as your saliva mixes in with her silky juice. Your tongue pushes into her core to collect more. You go back to her clit to lick and suck harder and faster. She rolls her hips into your mouth. You look up to see her cheeks red. Her mouth slightly opens and her lower exposed stomach flexes. You roll your tongue harshly against her clit and she moans. 

“Fuck… I miss this,” She breathes. She puts two hands on your head and pushes you into her. She uses your head to please herself at the pace she wants. You close your eyes and stick out your tongue to make yourself a use for her. Her hips thrusting into your mouth becomes more harsh. Her liquid starts to spread all over your lips and chin. She moans a little louder, causing you to tap her thighs to warn her to stay more quiet. 

“Your mouth feels too good,” She grunts. You grip her thighs to keep her still as you suck and lick hard. She rolls her head back and moans. Her face expresses ecstasy and pleasure. Her eyebrows are furrowed and her mouth opens to whimper and moan. She looks so good like this. Your cunt clenches painfully at nothing. 

“Keep going, I'm close,” She hums. She grabs your hair hard, almost making you cry out. Her juice is rolling down your chin. Her moan starts becoming high-pitched, indicating how much closer she is. You bring your middle and ring finger up. You easily push it into her wet pulsing core. You pull your fingers in and out quickly, before curling and pressing into her walls. You don’t lose focus of your pace. She brings one hand up to cover her mouth from moaning too loud. Her thighs start to shake uncontrollably. She reaches her high and eases herself out by jerking her hips into your mouth. She cusses and moans while gently patting your head. Once she finishes, she tugs your head away from her wet core. Your lower face is covered in her sweet juice. Her chest moves up and down as she catches her breath. She smiles sweetly at you, still kneeling, waiting for her orders. 

“Come here,” She says. You stumble a little getting up from the hard ground. You take off the orange suit. The cold prison air prickles your skin. She pulls you into another passionate kiss. Her finger starts playing with your core, causing you to moan into her mouth. Your cunt is already wet from pleasing her. She easily collects your silk with her middle finger to mess with your clit. You were louder than her, causing her to shut you up with kisses. She doesn’t go slow, she rubs quickly and ruthlessly. You gasp and grip onto her shoulders. 

“You wanted this,” She chuckles. 

“Y-yes,” You pant. She shoves her long middle finger into you. She finds it coming in and out too easily. She decided to add in her ring finger. She wants to feel your walls squeeze around her digits. You feel the air in your lungs getting shut off for a moment. The stretch feels so good. You jerk your hips into her hands. 

“Stay still,” She orders, spreading your legs more. She leans her face back to kiss you as she thrusts her hands into you harder causing your legs to shake. You let out a loud moan which makes her stop. She leans back and glares at you. You were too loud. She takes her other hand to grip your face. Her face is stern. 

“Keep quiet or else the guards will remove you,” She warns. You quickly nod your head while licking your lips. It might be a hard task, but you’re not willing to risk it. 

She releases her grip from your face. She places her hand over your mouth to shut it. She returns to adding a third finger in without warning. You sob into her hands. Your stomach clenches in pain and pleasure. The wet sounds of her fingers thrusting into your core are embarrassingly loud. She loves it so much. If she couldn’t hear your screams at least she can hear this. Your silk is running down her knuckles, making a mess. She leans her lips to your ears and whispers praises. 

“You’re such a good dirty girl for me,” She purrs. You clench around her digits and shut your eyes. You cuss into her hands. Your legs start to shake and you feel yourself getting close. She hungrily craves your orgasm. She keeps her fast and harsh pace, causing you to hold onto her or else you will fall. You moan and whimper into her palm. She can feel you getting close. She knows your body too well. 

“Come for me baby,” She licks the shell of your ears. With a few more harsh thrusts, your breathing stops as you release yourself to her. She continues fingering you through your orgasm. Your liquid rolls down your thighs. She removes her other hand from your lips and you gasp for air. She gently pulls her three fingers out of you. Your core is still pulsing. She shushes you and kisses your forehead, then your cheeks, then to your lips. You try your best to kiss her back as you still feel lightheaded. You pull away, holding her face close to yours. 

“I love you,” You weakly confess. You allow yourself to feel. You didn’t care if everyone was going to judge you. She pauses in awe. She couldn’t believe it at first, but your words finally reached into her heart. She engulfs you in a hug. You can feel the vibration from her laughter. The sound echoes down the hallway. The guards and inmates furrow their eyebrows. The first time they hear the ‘lady of death’ in pure happiness.

[levandright]

i want to request a riki fluff drabble! soulmate au but it's the reincarnation type where they receive or dream memories of their past when they reach a certain age.

-⭐ anon

Eternal Bond

pairing : riki x fem reader ୨ৎ content / warning(s) : fluff, enemies/rivals to lovers, past lovers, soulmate au, riki calls you his sweet dove, highschool au ୨ৎ word count : 842

synopsis. in a world where everyone has soulmates and gets memories of their past lives when they turn seventeen, you’re completely shocked to find out that riki—your biggest rival since elementary school—was actually your soulmate in your past life. back then, you were his kind, devoted fiancée, a noblewoman engaged to a rebellious prince, and the two of you were totally in love. but in this life, all you and riki do is compete, pushing each other harder every year. ᐢ..ᐢ lev notes : thank you for requesting this ⭐ anon <3 i had a lot of fun making this! hopefully you like it. my requests are very much open so feel free to send one <3

you had braced yourself for it since your birthday months ago, but nothing could have prepared you for the shock of remembering your past-life memories. the truth that your past self had been engaged to him, to riki, was something you could barely wrap your head around. he, the rebellious fourth prince, and you, the kind and loyal fiancée. it seemed unreal—especially since, in this life, riki was your biggest rival, the person you’d been trading snide remarks with since elementary school, and someone you were constantly trying to outdo.

but the memories didn’t lie. he was your soulmate. that fact settled into your mind, slowly softening the sharp edges of your rivalry with him. it was confusing, but no one else understood why you’d suddenly started holding back in arguments or why you’d bite your tongue when he’d tease you in class. it felt silly at times, but the warmth from your past-life connection began to weave into your present self, and try as you might, you couldn’t hide the change.

of course, riki wasn’t an idiot. he noticed. you could feel his eyes on you more often, watching you closely whenever you crossed paths. there was a spark of suspicion behind his gaze, as if he were waiting for you to slip up. as much as you feared he’d figure it out, there was also a secret, thrilling hope that he would. so when december 9th rolled around—his seventeenth birthday—you couldn’t help but wonder if he’d remember his past-life connection as quickly as you had.

the day came, and you tried your best to avoid him, slipping through the halls and sneaking into class a few minutes late. for the morning, it worked. but you knew that wouldn’t last.

lunchtime came, and you slipped into the library, hoping to find a quiet spot where you could just be alone for a while. you settled into a corner near the back, buried in a book, trying to ignore the anxiety stirring inside you. but then you heard footsteps, and when you looked up, there he was. riki.

he stood by the table, arms crossed, a glint of determination in his eyes. you froze. “you can’t hide in here,” he said, his voice casual, but you could tell something was off. he wasn’t leaving.

riki walked toward you, and with each step, your heart raced. before you could react, he slid into the chair across from you, leaning in slightly.

“care to explain yourself?” he asked, his tone sharper than usual.

you blinked, feigning innocence. “explain what?”

he raised an eyebrow, his gaze intense. “you know exactly what i mean. we’re soulmates,” he whispered, low and filled with frustration. “and i find out now of all times? you could’ve told me earlier.”

your heart hammered as you nervously glanced around the library, thankful it was mostly empty. “i didn’t know how you’d react,” you said quietly, looking down at your hands.

riki let out a frustrated sigh, the tension rising. his eyes were no longer playful. “so you thought you’d just pretend nothing had changed? watch me get all confused about why you’ve been acting… different lately?” his voice dropped, and his gaze softened for just a moment. “what, you thought i wouldn’t notice?”

the silence between you both was thick, charged with so much unspoken emotion. you avoided his gaze, biting your lip. “i didn’t want to make things weird… especially with how we’ve been.”

for a moment, he didn’t say anything, his eyes studying you carefully. and then—bam—he leaned in suddenly, placing a hand on your wrist, his touch sparking a reaction deep inside you. you jolted slightly, memories flooding back in waves, overwhelming you.

he tilted his head with a teasing grin. “you talk too much, you know that?”

before you could protest, riki closed the gap between you, his lips brushing yours in a gentle kiss, almost hesitant but filled with all the weight of your shared past. it was as though time had folded in on itself, and for a second it was like the two of you had never been apart.

when he pulled back, his smile was faint yet triumphant. “my sweet dove. you’re still as stubborn as ever, huh?”

you stared at him, wide-eyed, your heart racing. his words, that pet name—it felt so familiar, so right and yet so foreign in this life. “you… remember everything?”

riki nodded, a smirk tugging at his lips, though it was softer than usual. “every last bit.” he leaned back, crossing his arms. “now that we’ve got that sorted, what are we going to do about this rivalry of ours?”

you blinked, a laugh comes out of you unexpectedly. “maybe we can take a break from it… just this once.”

he chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “i’ll consider it… for my dove.”

and for the first time in this life, you felt something stronger than rivalry, something that bridged the gap between your past and present—a feeling that maybe, just maybe, love could make its way through everything.

perm taglist. @honeybelleee @honeychocos @manaah02 @kozumesphone (open!) requests. open!

©levandright

[mynameismad]

What have I been up to?????

Hey all! I'm sure you're all cycling rapidly through the stages of grief like I am, but I thought I'd just check in and let everyone know what's going on with me and when they can expect more comics!

GOOD NEWS: I got a concept art job! I've been working freelance for a client for about two months now and things are going great! Honestly working on short assignments with weekly deadlines has been an amazing break from the slow, constant march of longform comics. I am surprising myself every day and haven't been this excited to learn and grow as an artist in a very long time. Moving forward, I would like to find a full time job in games and stay there, rather than continuing to hustle full-time in comics. I've paused my Patreon for the foreseeable future.

THAT BEING SAID: I will always be making comics!!!!!! I love them a lot, they've been good to me, and I have all these ideas in my head that NEED to be let out. I want to start making them in my own time, rather than as my main source of income. We'll see how long it takes to find true stability in concept (maybe never, lol) but in the meantime I will keep drawing my silly little guys and posting them online for everyone to see. I have to! I have to keep going and making the art I want to see in the world! We have to keep going!!!!

SAKANA: hoping to get back to the fish boys sooner rather than later. I've been stuck on whether to end the latest chapter right away or get a few more pages in there. We're moving into a HEAVY part of the plot, which will be trickier to write, so I've been procrastinating lol. Please don't take my extended absence as proof that I'm walking away from the story: I've just been busy with a new job and I don't know exactly how to get to the next chapter yet!! (also, jsyk, the Webtoon mirror is something I was doing for fun! not a priority!!)

RR: I actually have a few different projects started for RR! Chapter 2 is like 9 pages in, but then I paused and started work on a 20ish page minicomic, which is like 7 pages in. I'm going to finish the mini first and hopefully upload it to itch.io. For Chapter 2, I created this really elaborate environment in an effort to force myself to learn Blender, but then I got a job....so I have no time to learn Blender lol. Still trying to figure out whether to simplify or push forward.

OTHER: yeah...I am a comic artist at heart so obviously I have a million things I want to do. But SAKANA and RR are the highest priority right now!

UPCOMING: I am pursuing other freelance work for shorter, more manageable projects! If you need somebody to redline all your thumbnails, critique the first draft of your synopsis, or make a 20-40 page comic, please keep me in mind!

In closing: I'm locking my twitter accounts tonight and moving away from the platform for now. I'll be here, Instagram (@/mad_rupert), and BlueSky (@/madrupert). Thanks for sticking with me, let's hold onto and support each other in the coming weeks, months, and years! Let's keep going!!!!! I love you all so much!!!