#i take back my previous posts where i was being mean

[neverthatsirius-jo]

1982, JAPAN'S QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP.

summary — in which james' biggest safety hazard on the quidditch field is not the bludgers but being in love with you.

content — james potter x fem!reader, fluff

word count — ~800

a/n — me posting five days after i said i would never write again and privated all my works: 🤡. thank you @foodiegoogie for reading this before i post <3 (go read her fics, i recommend). no pun in the title this time folks. terrible.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

“You’re so stupid.”

You drag the piece of cotton lathered in rubbing alcohol across the considerable gash that covered the length of his left cheek almost entirely. He winces and you have to bite your lip to try and not laugh.

“I think you mean romantic.” He grabs your hips, getting you closer to where he is, sitting on the counter of the hotel room’s bathroom you were in. It was the fifth hotel room you had been in the past month, while you were following him around Japan, where the Quidditch world cup was being hosted that year.

“No, I mean stupid.”

He sticks out his tongue in response.

The grand final, Japan vs. England—the team James had worked his arse off to get into for years—and he’d managed to get injured in the last couple of minutes of the game, rendering him useless for the rest of it and part of the celebrations. He’d had no time to sulk about it; they’d won anyways, and his performance across the several other matches had been nothing short of phenomenal. The media unanimously agreed on that end. The whole of England too, save for a few pretentious gits that desperately needed to set themselves apart from the rest.

“People are allowed to have an opinion, love,” he’d said when you’d finished your rant against them, red in the face.

“Well, not that one.”

The incident plays in your mind again, and now that you’re not worried about his safety you can laugh about it. You don’t, though, instead biting your lip to prevent it. Excited and proud of your boyfriend for scoring—for the who-knows-th time, you’d honestly lost count—, you had yelled his name and waved your arms to get his attention. And gotten his attention you had; he let go of his broom to form a heart with his hands, letting you know he had dedicated the play to you.

You tried warning him about the goalpost he was dangerously approaching but it had been too late and the crowds cheering drowned out your voice. Not that you were close enough for him to hear anyway. He crashed, hitting the side of his head, and fell off his broom. Merlin knows it could have been much worse if one of his teammates hadn’t grabbed him before he hit the ground.

You’d run to take care of a very disoriented James, who kept trying to joke with the mediwizards—keyword being trying; you are still pretty sure nothing that came out of his mouth made sense—, in one of the medical tents they had for such cases.

‘The culprits that make you end up here are usually bludgers, not pretty girls’ James told you, laying on a makeshift bed, slurring his words but seemingly in a moment of lucidity. You grabbed his hand that was poking around your face and caressed it with your thumb.

That was precisely why you now found yourself at five a.m. cleaning his wounds and changing the plasters on his face after the bar celebrations.

You felt guilty, no matter how much he assured you there was no reason for you to feel that way. You were glad he didn’t seem to care one bit that he had been totally out of it—product of whatever potion they gave him to keep him going for the time being and dispatch him quickly—the moment England raised the cup, celebrating their victory.

“You didn’t like my heart?” He pouts exaggeratedly, lowering his face to find your gaze, now completely focused on the placement of the plaster.

“I’m more fond of your head staying in one piece.” You get his face back to its previous position, acting annoyed. “And in place, please and thank you.”

Once finished with the plaster, you grab his head with both hands and plant a kiss on top of it.

“It’ll heal faster,” you mutter before placing another peck, this time on his lips.

“Oh, yeah?” He quirks an eyebrow, his smile widens. “You should be a mediwitch.”

You pretend to think about it for a second and nod in agreement. You stand there staring at the other for a few seconds—you mainly checking if you have missed any wounds—before he throws his head back and groans.

“What is it?”

“Sirius will never let me hear the end of it,” he lifts himself off the counter, and kneels to pick up the wrappers and pieces of cotton he’d dragged with him.

“He should try hitting his head every once in a while, maybe then he will break a scoring record like the ‘promising rising star James Potter’,” you quote the article he’d run to show you last week, the day after the first match.

He laughs as you get out of the bathroom, both of your arms around each other’s waist, and you leaning on him. England, fans and journalists alike, could try to claim him for themselves all they wanted but he was, at the end of the day, unequivocally and solely yours.

thank you for reading, reblogs and replies are always appreciated <3

back to masterlist

[starshapedsupernova]

i have an actual real date next week this is groundbreaking this is humiliating

[xiao-come-home]

Boothill relationship headcanons;

┏━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┓

✰ Characters: Boothill x reader.

✰ Words: ~1k.

✰ SFW+N//SFW ; SFW mentions no pronouns or gender of the reader. N//SFW section was written with fem!reader in mind.

Warnings: THIS HAS A NSFW PART. MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS skip this section if possible. some of these hc are based on this post, since i wanted to write a little more about it.

A/N: BRAINROT gRR he truly gives me doctor by Miley Cyrus vibes. idk how to explain it but take it

┗━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┛

Boothill:

SFW

he's such a gentleman! opens doors for you, pulls out a chair, kisses your hand when he sees you first for the day, it doesn't get boring for him at all. if you ignore some of his unhinged behaviors, then he's a perfect man.

like i mentioned in my previous post, he's VERY possessive of you. he does like to go to unknown clubs or bars with you to try out their best drinks in his spare time, though he doesn't have you attached to his hip (even.. if he wouldn't probably mind at all), he does keep a sharp eye on you. if a weird guy approaches you and you're clearly uncomfortable, he tries to intimidate the guy away and clearly let him see that you're his (aka placing his arm around your waist and pushing you into him), if being polite doesn't work, well, they have a rough night. not in a good way.

this man SCREAMS BACK HUGS!! since his body is like 90% metal and machines, he loves to embrace you from behind and wrap his arms around your tummy, while his chin rests on your shoulder. he misses the softness of his own skin, so having you gives him a lot of comfort; the warmth you're radiating makes him reluctant to ever pull away. boothill often finds himself touching his cheeks with his robotic arms, when they get warm enough - the feeling almost long forgotten in his mind.

speaking of back hugs: he's also very big on neck kisses, mostly giving than receiving, depending on how he feels, they're either very innocent and loving - very soft, paired with butterfly kisses, or biting you and then kissing it better, when things get steamy.

boothil finds it funny when his hair tickles you when he hugs you from behind. if he's feeling particularly like a little shit that day, he can annoy you the entire day like that, only to respond with "hmm? what do you mean? I'm not doing anything, baby!" ...don't tell him his smirk gives it away, but honestly, at this point, he probably doesn't try to hide it that well.

he DOES slap your ass when you go past him. EVERY time. it doesn't get boring for him, he likes the sound it makes AND how soft it is, bonus if it jiggles, then he's even more proud. he might offer "an apologetic massage," which you rarely agree to (but he'll try until u say yes).

if someone ever tinkers with his Synesthesia beacon, he cannot swear for his life. you might catch him trying to cook, spilling something, and then hearing loud "YOU LITTLE DAISY FLOWER! CUTIE PIE! CURSED FROG!" it's kinda impressive how colorful they can get...

speaking of his voice, he's probably able to manipulate it so it sounds the best according to your taste. although his flesh heart has been gone for so long, he still feels that familiar, warm feeling and squeeze of his own, mechanical one, when your answer is always the same - to modulate it so it sounds the closest to what it used to be, or that the current one is just as pleasant to hear.

he likes to kiss you. no matter where, or when. if he wants to, he'll get one, pressing you against him, cupping your face with one hand, and kissing your puckered lips. once you give in, he kisses you properly, caressing your cheek ever so slightly to ease any discomfort left, only to hold you tightly on your hips and whimper on purpose just to tease you more (i believe in boothill is a little shit theory).

if we assume his face is the only human part of him left (besides his eyes). In that case, he just truly loves the softness of your lips on his. he kisses you as much as he can, and will get all fussy and whiny if he doesn't get his good morning kiss, we-see-each-other-for-the-first-time-today kiss (note: this is not the same as good morning kiss), goodnight kiss and so on. yes, he could get it by himself, but he wants it from you first. he's just very stubborn.

watch out! he likes to draw blood on your lower lip when his intrusive thoughts win. he licks the blood off later, and gives it a loving kiss.

his hair is genuine, so he loves whenever you play with it, brush it, or take care of it in general. it's probably one of the very few human features of his, so if your boothill lets you carefully pamper it, let alone without flooding his cords, he's not only very impressed, but also very willing to indulge in more sessions.

finds it absolutely adorable when you wear his hat when he isn't looking. or, well, when you think he isn't looking.

N/SFW. minors and ageless blogs shoo!

the council has decided that he has a vibrator in place of his real junk. but if you're into experimenting and want him to feel a bit more, hm, natural - he's more than happy to change his parts. shape, size and pace - everything for his lady.

you can probably guess, but that's an absolute ass man. he sees you in tighter pants that hug you just so nicely and might go feral.

eats pussy like a starved man. he has no shame and licks, sucks, and fucks you with his tongue and THE SOUNDS could put the devil himself to shame. boothill always wants everyone to know that you're his, how you scream and moan for him, so in return - he never lets a drop of your juices go to waste, slurping and moaning into your slit.

he's literally so flexible, that he'll fuck you in every position you want him to. if it means he'll get deeper, he's on board. and probably on top of you too.

likes to grope you through your clothes. sounds very tame, but it really gets him going, and might sometimes cause trouble in public.. unless you WANT that trouble.

adding to the headcanon above - he truly just gets turned on by your skin, especially imperfections. stretch marks? he'll kiss them all, scars? he has them all memorized. when he touches you through your clothes, he already remembers what is where, it's like he's edging himself knowing that soon enough he'll undress you completely and see it clearly; he quite literally worships what truly makes you... you.

he. is. so. SO over when you pull on his hair. when you make out, when he fucks you - doesn't matter. DO IT and he'll go absolutely crazy, hissing in pleasure and grinding into you.

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Platonic Yan! Batboys x Batsis darling

A/N: I want to talk about the concept of batsis having a s/o or a crush and how the family would react to that. I'm sure this concept might've been done but if i may speak-

Warnings: Obsession, relationship sabotage, overbearing family dynamics

Requests: always open.

Masterlist

Dick Grayson

I think he's kind of complex about this issue. I don't think !yan Dick would have a problem with you dating in itself. Like there is so many siblings and no way to keep all of these hormonal teen and young adults at bay. He's been there, he gets it.

But there's some conditions. You have to have a good relationship with dick, first. It you are close, that means you tell him...everything. He can easily monitor you and the progression of things. You'll be trusted to tell him is something goes wrong and he can step in. You won't mind Dick tagging along or being generally invasive. You won't forget about him or the family, he knows that you'll drop everything and come running. His grip is already secured firmly around you and your mind so theres no reason to worry. Have fun, be safe.

If you're anything like my previous posts where batsis is not close with dick in the slightest, he'd sabotage that relationship. He's not having it at all. Your dating is a threat to the family. You already have an apprehension of him, so anyone can swoop in and take his sis away. He doesn't want that. He doesn't trust your judgement or decision making skills enough. Dick knows that if someone hurt you or was dangerous, you'd hid it from him. You refuse to give Dick any sort of access to your life so therefore dating is a no. Sorry baby bat, it's for your own good!

But maybe i'm wrong. Maybe Dick doesn't want any of his siblings dating..especially his batsis. I've said before that Dick has given up his previous relationships among other things for the family. His siblings are his most important priority and he's willing to do whatever it takes to make sure they're properly provided for. What if he expects the same. He's jealous over the fact you all get to go out and date and he cannot because he's stuck playing dad? What if he's jealous that you're spending all your time with someone else? You don't have time for your older brother anymore

He's hurt when you embarrassingly hide your partner from him. You're critiquing everything he does and tells him not to call you by the nicknames he gave you. Yan! Dick hates being discarded. And maybe, none of this happened? Maybe you gladly show off your brother to your partner? Maybe just the thought of you one day getting married and leaving him fills his mind. He overthinks about being left here alone like Bruce was...he doesn't want that. He cannot have that. You cannot date for your own good...for his own good

Jason Todd

I don't think he'll ever vocalize his true feelings. and reluctantly allows it. Jason is rather against you dating, but because he doesn't trust anyone outside of the family. Plus he doesn't like that he gets to see you way less now.

Jason would be the brother that'd be cleaning his guns while you're introducing you partner to him. His tone is sharp and he doesn't embrace them once. He wants them to know there is someone in your life that'll kill for you if they hurt you.

I think if Jason sensed the person you were dating wasn't any good, he'd handle it privately. Your partner ghosts you for three days then sends a "i don't want to see you ever again." text. Weird. Everything was going great. Luckily your brother Jason just got back from his three day trip to comfort you.

If the partner is good but he doesn't really get any time with you, i think he's get a little out of character. Suddenly he's a lot more clingy to you when you're there. He's just following you around the entire house and wanting to spend every second with you. If it gets bad enough he will have to intervene with his other siblings. He misses you. This whole dating things sucks, who needs them when you have a perfect family. They're all you need.

Damien Wayne

He doesn't like change. At. All. This family is perfect as it is.

So don't mess it up by changing the natural order of things. This partner of yours is a nuisance. An incompetent, brain dead loser who is dragging you down with them. You don't need them. Damien is rather offended that you felt like you even needed something more outside of the family. What does this prick have that they don't?

He's weary of the fact that this person wanted to date you. Not that you're not enough but you're a Wayne now. People always wants something, if not money, its something else. You're foolish for this.

On a deeper level, Damien feels like he's loosing a parent. It's clear that your partner doesn't like your younger brother or even want him around. He misses you driving him around, reading together and sneaking out. You've never taken his often impolite banter to heart, you loved him as he was. He felt drawn to you. You were like a mother figure to him..don't do this. He;s sad and thinks you don't love him anymore.

Tim Drake

Maybe the least closest to you. You probably think he doesn't even like you but it's not true. He's just an observer more than a hands on type of person. He's just as yandere as the others, he cares. The second he got the name of your partner, he spends all day searching up dirt on them. He has a file of blackmail sitting pretty on his hard drive in case that person hurts you.

He's not confrontational like the rest. He's a bit too socially awkward for that but if he seriously felt you were in danger, he'd stop you. I think he'd mainly plot with the others to sabotage the relationship.

Like Damien, he doesn't understand why you need someone so badly. The family is more that fulfilling to him so why not for you? Time misses the little things like when you'd bring him food to his desk, or usher him to take a break from his computer. He misses your laughter and interactions with the rest of the family. He doesn't feel safe with you being out so much. The world is a dangerous place, it's safer here, where everyone can protect you. They all love you, and their love combined is far stronger than your partners.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

hiii i love ur fics idk if ur requests are on rn but can u do a short drabble of the tiktok trend where the guy hasn't ask his gf to be his valentines day so she "put him on sale" as a joke ofc but she's like

BF FOR SALE ($3.50)

- amazing cook

-crusty feet

- will buy anything u want

any character is fine but i would love katsuki or shoto!!

LMFAOOOO this is for sure the funniest ask ive gotten yet😭😭😭 this is so cute !! and very long overdue I apologize writer block devil was rlly kickin my ass😞 valentines been over but yk i had to write this ! i was rlly hesitating between writing for shoto or katsuki and then i realized i could write for BOTH OF THEM!! and so i did ! i tried honoring your request as best i could, hope you like it <3 !

no pronouns mentioned, pure tooth rotting nasty fluff, use of petnames (my love for shoto and sweets, babe and idiot (lol) for katsuki), katsuki is an asshat but when isn’t he, shy katsuki, shoto is a bit of an airhead, kissing, biting, reader is petty asl lol, lemme know if i missed something else !

todoroki shoto ♥︎

“yn, my love.”

“yes, shoto ?”

the corners of shoto’s mouth pull into a tiny frown at the usage of his first name. no baby, no hun, not even sho. just shoto.

“did i do something to upset you ?” he asks carefully from his spot at the foot of your dorm bed he seems to be stuck at, he can’t bring himself to move until he knows if you’re actually mad at him, and he has an inkling you are.

you look up at him for no longer than a second then look back down at your phone screen “what makes you think that ?” you question back nonchalantly.

“you posted something on your tiktok account..” shoto doesn’t have a clue how to have this conversation with you and it makes him a little nervous, he regrets not going to izuku for advice after all.

“mhmmmm~” you hum, urging him to continue knowing damn well you know what he’s going to say. you wanted to hear him say it himself.

you know shoto’s had no previous relationships before you so these type of things probably don’t mean as much to him as they do to you, but doesn’t everyone want their boyfriends to ask them to be their valentine ? you sure do, and your boyfriend hadn’t asked you to be his yet, so as petty as you know you were being at the time you posted the tiktok he’s no doubt here for right now.

shoto feels like a criminal on trial desperately trying to plead his case with you being the judge. tentatively, he asks “ you said you were..putting me up for sale ?”

immediately it’s like a switch had been flipped. you place your phone down onto your bed next to you, shoto wishes he could take your phone’s place. you cross your leg over the other and bring your hands together like a super villain revealing their master plan “yes. yes i did.”

“oh.”

silence. nothing.

shoto tried—he’s trying. he’s trying so insanely hard to make sense of everything that is you but he simply can’t. he breaks eye contact to think of more to ask but his attention is quickly pulled back to you when he hears you whine.

“uuuuughhh shotoooo~” you moan, throwing your head back against the headboard. “you’re not supposed to say ‘oh’ !” you’re face changes from grumpy to deadpan as you lower your voice slightly to try and mimic him. on any other day this would’ve made him laugh but he’s beyond lost at this point. he clears his throat before speaking again.

“ i don’t know what i’m supposed to say—or what i did for you to want to sell me.” he thinks “and for 3 dollars at that.”

you let out a laugh when you process his words and shoto’s shoulders magically feel lighter at the sound. carefully, he slides a little closer to the side of your bed so he can stand at your bedside. little by little. you pretend you don't notice.

"it's what you deserve for not askin' me to be your valentine."

the secret’s finally out and you get to see how the cog wheels in his head are starting to turn in real time, it has you holding back a giggle when he looks up at you like a deer in headlights.

“is that..why you were mad ?” you nod, humming out a playful mhmm

“ya really hurt my feelings you know ? to think my own boyfriend wouldn’t ask me” you clench your fist over your heart and fake sob dramatically.

shoto huffs out a laugh, relieved to see you’re not actually mad, and goes to sit down on your bed. he tentatively reaches for your hand and squeezes it twice when you let him hold it. before bringing it up to his lips and placing a sweet little kiss to it. it feels as if pop rocks are going off inside of you.

“ i’m sorry for not asking you to be my valentine.” he apologizes, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing your hand “ i was thinking i should’ve, but i didn’t want you to think it was weird since we’re already dating.” his thumb goes to run over your fingers “ i was worried me being too intense would scare you off.” he mumbles.

your eyebrows furrow, you lean towards him to make him look at you “ you wouldn’t scare me off, who told you that ?”

“kaminari. he said ‘coming on too strong scares away the babes.’ ” shoto quotes

you sigh. of course it was that bigmouth portable charger filling his head with this stuff.

you pull your hand out of his grasp and he looks up to protest but you grab his face in your hands before he can say anything, you can practically see him start melting at the contact as he blinks at you slowly, he reminds you of a cat.

“sho” you purr, rubbing his cheeks “ rule number one is never ever listening to kaminari’s dating advice. most of the time it is very wrong.” you explain.

shoto presses his mouth to the palm of your hand “yeah, i’m starting to regret that now.” he speaks into it, you snort. he leans in closer to press a sweet kiss to your lips and you reciprocate, pressing a few more kisses on his lips for good measure “ i’m really sorry for not asking you.” he says in between pecks. you hum in response to him placing even more kisses all around your face. “s’okay. i’m also kinda sorry for putting you up for sale.” you say, running your fingers through his hair while he places kisses on your shoulder.

he lifts his head up to look at you then, an eyebrow raised with an amused expression on his face “kinda sorry ?” he asks.

you nod “mhm. kinda sorry.”

he chuckles to himself, then gets up so he can climb into bed next to you. when he’s positioned how he likes it, with his head in your lap while you comb through his hair with your fingers, he sighs peacefully “well, it wasn’t all bad. i’m glad you think i’m a good cook.”

“what about the crusty feet ?”

“i’m choosing to ignore that part.” shoto smirks lightly to himself when he hears you laugh at his joke, clearly proud of himself for it. “and i will buy you anything you want, to make it up to you.”

“i don’t need you to buy me anything, sho” you roll your eyes with a lovesick smile “ all you gotta do is ask.”

he blinks up at you, looks off the the side as if he’s deep in thought, and suddenly gets off your lap to sit right in front of you. you never think you’ll get over how pretty your boyfriend is and being reminded of it with how close he is to you makes you flustered. he leans in to kiss you passionately and you don’t know if it’s the love he pours into it or the lack of air that has you so dizzy, you don’t dwell on it.

when he pulls away he’s looking at you like you hung up the stars in the sky and he simply, almost shyly smiles at you and asks.

“ will you be my valentine ?”

bakugou katsuki ♥︎

you did not expect katsuki to come barging into your dorm room five minutes after you’d posted your tiktok. the loud sound of someone banging on your door and proceeding to let themselves in seconds later causes you to let out a squeak.

in comes katsuki, phone tightly clutched in his hand and the moment his eyes zeroed on you he’s like a bull charging at a red flag. he stands right in front of you, angry frown on display before he shoves his phone in your face.

“explain this. now.” he growls, you have to hold back a laugh, keeping your face as calm as possible you look between him, his screen then back at your phone.

“what’s confusing about it ? i thought i was being pretty straight forward.”

his eye twitches. “why the hell did you put me up for sale ?! and for three dollars and fifty fuckin’ cents ?!” he exclaims, you can’t help the snort that bursts out of you, though katsuki doesn’t look as amused as you are.

“explain.” he deadpans.

“i think you can figure it out.” you shrug back.

he mutters insults to himself that you can’t catch “well obviously fuckin’ not, cus I wouldn’t be askin’ you if i did.” you simply shrug and look back at your phone. “i wrote it in the caption.”

it takes him a second to process then he’s tapping his password and opening the clock app at super sonic speed. his eyebrows furrow and you see him tapping away at his phone. his eyes widen when he reads your caption and he looks down at you with a mix of desperation and disbelief.

“you’re mad cus I didn’t ask you to be my valentine ?” your bratty huff and turn to the side as you shrug again is all the answer he needs. he looks at you for about 5 seconds longer then sighs.

he sits down on your bed and keeps staring. katsuki bakugou hates a lot of things and one of those things is you ignoring him. a warm hand on your ankle startles you and you can’t even ask him what he’s doing before your being yanked towards him. you squeal, almost missing the smirk on his face or the huff of laughter at your reaction. almost though, so you glare at him. katsuki looms over you until your noses almost touch, then you turn away with a huff. he chuckles, pressing his lips to your neck.

“ yer such a baby, y’know that ?” he mumbles, smirking against you neck. you huff but make no effort to shrug him off “ no i’m not, jerk. is it so wrong for me to want my boyfriend to ask me to be his valentine’s ?” you grumble, trying to ignore the feel of his warm lips against your skin, it’s not working so well for you.

“s’not what i’m sayin, sweets” he nips at your earlobe “‘m sayin’ ya coulda just told me ‘stead of bein’ a baby about it.” you can’t tell if this is his way of trying to apologize. either way, you don’t want to give in just yet.

“i’m not supposed to tell you to ask me to be your valentine’s katsuki, that’s not the point~ !” you huff petulantly. you feel a but childish but, c’mon ! it’s a given to have your boyfriend as your valentine and it wouldn’t hurt your demon spawn of a boyfriend to be a little but romantic once in a while.

he playfully rolls his eyes at you “see, what’d i tell you? big baby.” leaning forward he nips at your nose making you groan and trying to push him away with your palm. katsuki being the powerhouse that he is, doesn’t budge. “ i didn’t think to ask ya cus you’re already mine. so why should i need to ask something that’s a given ?”

your heart beats faster at his words and katsuki takes his chance when he feels you loosing up more and more. suddenly he’s got your wrists in his grip, holding them above you and looking down at you with that sickeningly handsome smirk. you’re almost there, he can practically feel it.

“i—i’m..still mad at you” you stutter out weakly, your defenses are down.

“yeah ?” he taunts.

“yeah. apologize.”

he scoffs, rolling his eyes lightheartedly “why should i apologize ? you said my fuckin’ feet stink.”

“ ah, ah, ah.” you tut “don’t put words in my mouth, i said your feet were crusty.”

“yeah, thanks babe. that makes it so much better.” he sasses, you laugh “and i complimented you ! i said you were an amazing cook !”

“yeah but that ain’t a compliment, ‘ts a fact.” he says matter of factly, you’re eyes threaten to get stuck at the back of your skull with how hard you roll them and he snickers.

he dives in and steals a kiss, and then another one when you don’t stop him. when he pulls away to catch his breath, ready to steal another kiss you stop him by placing your hand on his chest. he looks down at you questioningly and you give him a raised brow in response. he groans.

“fine. m’sorry” he concedes quietly

“foooorrr ?” you urge.

he narrows his eyes at you as if saying “don’t push it” but swallows his words down “ for not askin’ you to be my valentine’s or whatever the fuck” he shoves his now hot face into your neck and mumbles “now quit bein’ all pissed at me.”

you’re happy enough with that, so you wrap your arms around his neck, one of your hands creeping up his nape and into his hair. he sighs contentedly, clearly enjoying the attention you’re giving him.

“thank you. i’m also sorry for saying you have crusty feet.” hearing him scoff at the accusation makes you giggle “and for putting you up for sale.” he hums, happy with your apology.

“..kinda.”

“oi.” he warns. you giggle in response continuing your ministrations in his hair.

“you still haven’t asked me so..” you trail off. he lifts his head up to look at you with a blond eyebrow raised.

“ does this valentine shit really matter that much to you ?” he asks.

you respond immediately “yes.” nodding aggressively to make your point.

he sighs, shaking his head. he looks at you, then looks off to the side in embarrassment, he can be so cute when he wants to be. steeling his nerves he looks you straight in the eyes. fearless with fierce red cheeks and all.

“b-be my valentine, idiot..”

[miam0re]

Post Workout Sexy Time | Sylus

Warning: NSFW, Semi-public sex, arms/veins/hands fetish if you squint, hitting it from the back, petnames(Sweetie), creampie, sweaty bodies, more stuff i probably missed.

Pairing: Sylus X Fem!Reader

Mia's Notes: this post is me whoring over his body, his arms, his neck- also its me coming back into writing yayyyyy! so much excitement to find the motivation to write smut again. To be honest, I forgot how I used to format my posts and went back to see my previous posts, only to get further confused with my inconsistency. I hope the horny words can make up for my lack of structure heuheu. A good 900+ words for all of you mwahh

When you agreed to accompany the boss of Onichynus to his personal boxing club, you expected to just sit on the sidelines and stare at your phone, handing him his water bottle whenever required. However, instead of having your eyes on your screen, your gaze was fixed upon the sculpted body of the man before you. He swung his arms, landing punch after punch to the poor sandbag, the thuds echoing in the scarcely populated gym. After all, how many people would come for a workout in the middle of the night? (that crazy white haired man of course)

The veins on his arms were so prominent, further enhanced by his tightened fists. How the sweat glistened and rolled down his muscular biceps, sliding down his forearm; aren’t you getting a little carried away looking at his arms? I mean, how would it feel if wrapped those strong arms around you and took you then and there? Holding you in place as you helplessly flail around trying to escape his toe curling thrusts-

“Aren’t you getting a little lost in fairytale land?” lo and behold, the man of your fantasies snapped his fingers in front of your dazed face, bringing you back from your thoughts. He chuckled as you mumbled, taking the bottle from you and having a swig of his drink. And as if it wasn’t enough that you were daydreaming about his arms; now watching drops of water slip past the corner of his mouth and trail down his jaw, the bob of his adams apple, the water creeping down where his tank top hid his body from your hungry eyes.

“Sylus.” just whispering his name with that slight horny desperation in your voice was all that he needed to shoot you a devilish smirk and drag you by the waist to the changing rooms. Your heart paced wildly as he locked the doors and pulled you further into the metal locker lined room.

You ravenously tugged at his shorts, pawing at the growing erection that the flimsy fabric failed to conceal. His tongue melded with yours, clothes being discarded left and right in an entanglement of arms and legs as you were finally stripped bare, his mouth claiming territory on your jaw and neck. Overwhelmed with the heat of his lips on your neck, you barely registered the cool metal pressing against your erect nipples, your body pinned chest first to the lockers, making you shudder audibly.

“if you keep making sounds like that, I’m not sure I’ll be able to resist being a little…rough with you.”

His caramel smooth voice made you instinctively arch your back and stand on your toes, as you’ve down countless times prior. His hands went down to securely hold your hips as he ran the tip of his cock in between your folds, gathering your wetness on his head. He sharply inhaled at your swaying hips, slowly nudging his fat tip past your tight entrance.

You thought, like always, he’d grab you by your hair and fuck into you, pushing you further into the locker. But to your surprise, one arm snaked around your breasts, and the other around your tummy, pulling you closer onto his cock. The slow glide of his dick into your pussy was heavenly, your hands finding anything to claw onto, like, for instance, the arms he had you caged with.

“I saw the way you were staring, Sweetie. Do my muscles turn you on that much?” his veins popped out as his arms tightened around your torso, making you gasp. Your nails dug into his skin, feeling his arms tense while holding you taut against his chest, hips slamming at a merciless pace. Your knees felt weak, your body slouched over, but worry not. With the kind of grip he had on your body, you weren’t going anywhere except on his dick. His chest heaved behind you, sweat dripping off his eyebrow and colliding with the drops on your glistening back. The locker room started to feel steamy from how hot and laboured your breaths were, the walls replaying the slapping sounds of thighs against thighs. You weren’t even sure you could feel the ground under your feet anymore, feeling so weightless as Sylus angled his body, allowing his dick to graze against parts of your body not unfamiliar to him.

Wet lips and sharp teeth found your neck once again, drowning out his grunts caused by your body eager to milk him with how it clenched around his cock. Calloused fingers squeezed your nipples as you squealed out his name, being silenced by him nudging your face to the side and kissing your agape mouth.

“Feels so good, Sylus. Make me…cum…please-”

Fuck, if you keep singing praise for him in your beautiful voice, how do you expect him to act sanely? How do you expect him to not brace one hand against the locker, fucking into you till his thighs feel sore and your body can barely hold on? His own mind is jumbled up, on the brink of explosion, just a little bit longer till-

“Fuck, Sweetie-”

Sylus was shaking with the intensity of his own orgasm, grinding into you and holding you in a python like hold, not letting you escape him. There was so much coming out, strings of cum ran down your thighs, puddling on the floor in between your shaking legs.

Sylus wasn’t sure if this was the only round; if your incoherent mumbles were asking for more or not. But since you’re still clutching his arms and clinging to his body, maybe you wouldn’t mind if he slowly started moving his hips again.

[microsofttothemax]

the resentment leo would have with splinter post-krang. i genuinely think they would take a bit for them to recover and be comfortable around each other

why do i think that? here’s some reasons. this is gonna be a HELLA long analysis so be prepared. sit down, grab some popcorn, and let’s dive in

in the movie, after raph was taken, leo goes on a whole rant about how he got the key, he gets the answers, and he will get raph back. yes this is irrational and brash, but not in leo’s eyes. in his eyes, this is a foolproof plan that will work

splinter attempts to intervene, and tell him like it is. “it’s not your plan, you need to work with your team.” however, it comes out as a sharp sting to leo’s previous attitude

“My son, listen to your team. This is not about you.”

it’s meant to be sensible and wise, but to leo, it’s a jab at him. it’s a stab at his cockiness and self-centered attitude, and it reminds leo of why they’re even in this position in the first place. which he hates

most of all, it’s splinter saying it. it’s his father telling him that it’s not about him. because to leo, he’s always been last place to splinter’s affection, and it’s like splinter’s confirming it here

don’t believe me? here:

splinter talks to leo, and it seems that for a minute, he listens to his father’s words. that maybe he should really stop and listen. maybe he should stop and think of a plan, listen to his brothers’ input.

but the second splinter says it’s not about him? leo shuts down. he pulls away from splinter, and refuses to listen to him. and while splinter may be right, it was something leo never wanted to hear

it’s obvious that he has a somewhat testy relationship with his father, and splinter is trying to make up for it by giving leadership advice. but to leo? this is the guy who made him leader to seemingly mess with him, never bothered to give him attention or praise on his accomplishments, and never truly knew leo beyond his “acting as the best to save face” charade

which brings me to another reason. no, i do not think splinter was ever abusive or purposely neglectful to leo, or any of the boys for that matter. but its clear theres a bit of a rift between him and leo. i think that he kind of resents leo a bit (without meaning to) because he sees himself in him. he sees the irrational movie star who never thought ahead, and made too many mistakes to count

an example would be when leo got punched by lou jitsu two times. none of his brothers got punched, why just him? and sure it could be a running gag, but i find it also to be intentional

maybe deep down, splinter still resents leo for being so much like his irrational, unreasonable younger self. that every time he sees leo, he sees his stupid past self, and without meaning to, he at times hates leo because of it. and if he doesn’t hate him, he seems to resent him to some extent

splinter also has plainly stated that donnie was the funniest one to him, (s1ep 1, mystic mayhem) and outright laughed when leo asked if he was the favorite son (rottmnt wake-up alarms on youtube, timestamp 1:59) leo also staight-up said that he was splinter’s least favorite (s1ep 4b, down with the sickness)

so yeah, i can see the resentment leo may have for his father deep down. it could be pretty apparent post-krang, hidden behind his jokes and teases

now don’t get me wrong, they have their moments of bonding, and i do love to read little drabbles and fics where they hug and heal. however… realistically speaking, it would take a while for them to get to that stage of father-son bonding post-krang. with splinter naming him leader out of the blue, to the missing lou jitsu posters on the walls of leo’s room in the movie — and we’re definitely talking about that in a later post, trust — i would bet their relationship as father-son pre and post-movie would be extremely rocky.

another reasoning for this could be that splinter often underestimates and undermines leo’s abilities and accomplishments. far as i’ve seen, the most reaction splinter’s given to leo’s accomplishments is an eyebrow raise

for example, when outsmarting big mama, leo was genuinely proud of spending time w his dad and showing him his abilities. he genuinely thought they were working together. however, splinter didn’t say he was proud or anything, just complained he wished he’d brought donnie (s2ep 2, many unhappy returns)

“I knew I should have brought Purple.”

ouch. that mustve hurt a bit

and yes, i will admit, leo was being a bit of a little shit in this scene, and yes, he could’ve told splinter of the plan before starting to yap and blab to big mama about the plan he cooked up. however, the response splinter gives is not much better. essentially, he’s saying, “i don’t like this kid or his plan, so therefore i think i should’ve brought one of my favored children to solve the problem better.”

and before you go and tell me donnie could’ve outsmarted big mama the way leo did, think for a moment. leo fully admitted to manipulating and lying in an episode before

“I don’t lie, I just… change the truth.”

whereas donnie cannot tell a lie to save his life. i love him, but the guy is a shit liar. he has failed multiple times at it

“We are just typical normal humans.. who got lost in the middle of our normal… everyday human lives— nailed it.”

“Uh… nothing. Just having a typical, normal, mystic-free day.” “What? I said mystic-free.”

“Why aren’t you guys more upset?”

“Oh. This… hurts me. Uh… I’m very sad…?”

raph & mikey aren’t much better. mikey straight-up started sweating when he had to lie to splinter about piebald, and raph has so many different stinks/scents to him that it’d be easy for others to tell he was lying

also, mikey has doctor delicate touch. who does not know what lying or “don’t be blunt” means

and donnie’s really only being extremely straightforward with what he thinks or about what’s going on around him. so it makes no sense as to why splinter would want to bring donnie along to outsmart big mama, unless he genuinely doesn’t enjoy leo’s presence, which seems to be the case

now all of this is evidence to point towards a very unsteady father-son relationship with these two. yes, splinter seems to be a very lenient father, and i genuinely think he wants to be a good dad. however, oftentimes that leads to miscommunication and misread moments, empty promises, and overall neglecting behavior on his part, all without meaning to

so while he does try harder to be there for his sons later in the show, it’s pretty obvious that one brother — who thrived off any attention possible — probably stopped caring about that validation after all that he went through. splinter gives, but leo doesn’t take. he doesn’t bother to, because he thinks it’s either a prank of some kind, or because he just genuinely doesn’t care for his father’s input anymore.

(this was based on that one post about splinter & leo by @midwesternvibes, i just figure i revisit that bc i’m thinkin about it again)

[jo-com]

🎧₊ ꪆৎ ˚⋆. ➛ The other Woman

Charles Leclerc x Fem!reader x Alexandra Saint Mieux

Summary: You’ve grown tired of the baseless rumors that you’re ‘the third party’— worst part is, Charles and Alex doesn’t defend you.

Genre: A little SMAU, Angst, Poly established relationship

Fc: Alexa Demie

Note: there are some grammar errors and this is not proofread also I figured i do an angsty fiction bcs i always write about fluff and just wanted to switch things up! Hope you enjoy thiis!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist. (Part 2)

─────── ─ ⋆˚࿔☕️ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆─ ───────

Your heart clenched from sorrow as you scrolled further down the comment section— a mixed of different emotions coursing through your mind stream, making your heart and head throb with the growing pain.

Every hurtful banters went straight through your heart, as if they were knives; stabbing you in the most gruesome way.

The tears that you tried to held back is now pushing their way out of your eyelids, ready for them to fall down your porcelain cheeks.

As you red more— the feeling of discomfort subdued your thoughts and was in need of comforting.

So that’s what you did. Finding comfort in something or someone.

You hurriedly exited twitter with shaky hands and went straight to your contacts, ready to find the three of your’s group chat.

Expecting them to make your heart at ease and say nothing but endless affirmations.

…

➛ Message

…

Or so you thought.

You let out a heavy sigh— the stinging sensation in your chest won’t stop and was aching even more with each words that they replied with.

The hurt in your heart caused your pent up tears to pour down your cheeks, making a stream of profound sadness evident in your complexion.

You didn’t get why they were like that to you, i mean they did care even if it were a little, but saying that you’re overreacting is just crossing the line. If it were about them, they’d be all over the place. Things really are just different when it comes to you.

As those thoughts clouded your mind— the fear of being abandoned popped up. Planting an uneasy feeling grow deep in your heart.

…

The following days, you’ve avoided them like the plague— canceling their calls and making excuses whenever they ask you to go out, dismissing them with your lame transparent reasons.

But they didn’t buy it and kept on chatting you in all of your social media accounts.

Even after flooding your messages they still wouldn’t stop, and the same goes with your feelings. The hurt will always stay and keep on following you.

Those days also got you to rethink whether or not your important and do they even have a place for you in their heart. Earning a lot of sleepless days and silent cries; all alone in your own embrace.

The only two person who’ve known about your messy state were lily and alex.

Unlike the two, they were nothing but supportive and was giving you the comfort you needed in the first place. You wished that Alex and Charles was like that;

…

But instead of mopping around all weak, you’ve decided to take Lily’s offer in going out.

Unbeknownst to your two lovers of your whereabouts— still hurt from your previous conversation.

…

Miss.yn

Liked by Lilymhe and 12,789 others

Miss.yn Out of sight, out of mind💋

Tagged; @Lilymhe

View all comments

Username1 ATE THAT DRESS UPP

Lilymhe just wow🤤🤤

Miss.yn Love yaa!!

Username2 they could never make me hate u!!

Francisca.cgomes invites when??

Miss.yn Next time, i promise

Francisca.cgomes 🙄🙄🙄

Lilymhe i wanna go again😢

Miss.yn I know u miss me already🤭

Lilymhe i always do though??

Alex_albon weirdo.

Comments have been restricted

…

After posting your pics and not even 30 minutes have passed when you’ve received countless text messages of Alex and Charles.

…

After that, your whole world seem to be falling apart.

You couldn’t even count the days where you just laid in bed and only stared at the ceiling waiting for the hours to past.

Neither Alex and Charles chatted you after. Leaving a big hole in your heart— a hole that only they can fill.

The break up was a stupid idea but it was either that or stay with a relationship that doesn’t value your feelings. They’ve hurted you, not physically but emotionally and you had every right to be angry.

You just wished that they said something to even comfort your tearing heart.

That’s all you wanted from the start. Words of affirmation and comfort from the ones you love.

Was it too much to ask?

…

Hi i am back, sorry for not posting in a while, i really had this writers block that just couldn’t leave😓😓 hope you enjoyed this angst though!!

[vettelsvee]

GOODBYES ARE BITTERSWEET | Sebastian Vettel ✩₊˚.⋆ PART 3: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MAMA! [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]

goodbyes are bittersweet masterlist f1 masterlist | ao3 | requests or let's talk!

ferrari sebastian vettel x ex gf!female reader

word count: 4462

summary: y/n discovers not only that she went viral on youtube on her birthday and that she's offered a reunion with capital records, but also has to face a possible reunion with seb after having no contact with him for four, almost five, years

warnings: settled on april 2018. curse words, angst, mention to y/n being friends with a certain guy who's a singer and used to be a dyed blond (we'll get to know how they met and also hope you like this cameo!). y/n refusing to have any news of seb. translated german (almost every one calls emily mäuschen, which means little mouse).

taglist: [@saltycomicsanimalssalad @hc-dutch @mycenterfold @simplyamberj @spitesfvl-blog @jaydaaasworld @lottalove4evelyn @zoeyjadetice2010 @jehun @ferralari @cosmoscoffeee @mcmuppet @myescapefromthislife ]

a/n: i had to post this, especially today heheh. hope you like this part as much as you seemed to like the others! i'll be waiting for your comments and anons (honestly, daily serotonin), and also remind you that feedback and reposts are truly appreciated <3

© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

2018

April 27th Heppenheim, Germany

If someone had told you a few years ago that your thirtieth birthday would be like any other day, you wouldn't have believed them.

As every morning, you had woken up, although today it wasn’t the light entering through the window that woke you. The voices of Emily and your parents singing "Happy Birthday" in unison were the reason for your abrupt awakening. You forced yourself to hold back tears when you saw your daughter approaching you, with the help of your mother, with a cake in her little hands. Your father was taking the utmost care to ensure the lit candle didn’t go out before you blew it out, and you noticed their pitiful glances falling on you.

You understood. Since you became a mother, you knew what it was like to suffer for a child.

“Happy birthday, Mama!”

After sitting up in bed, you took your daughter in your arms and sat her between your legs. You quickly wiped away the tears and, after clapping a few more times with her, you suggested you both to blow out the yellow candle, your favorite color, together.

Your only wish for that year, as it had been for the previous four, was to finally be able to talk to Seb and explain the real reason why you left in Barcelona almost 5 years ago.

With that thought firmly in your mind, you said goodbye to your parents, who headed to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. You quickly got out of bed, took the clothes you had chosen the night before for Emily and yourself, and dressed her while you told her the sugar-coated version of how you met her father and how happy you were, as you always did almost every time to her since she loved that story. Shortly after you were already dressed, and both of you were heading to the kitchen, where two bowls of cereal were already set on the counter.

“Mommy, what did you wish for?”

The little one's question took you by surprise. If there was something that characterized her and made you think of her father, it was her great curiosity. Not to mention her clearly defined blonde curls and her entire face.

Denying that she was Sebastian's daughter was impossible, and that's how Heike found out she was a grandmother.

“It’s a secret, mäuschen,” you replied, starting to cough immediately, trying not to choke on the spoonful of cereal you had already put in your mouth. “I can’t tell you, or it won’t come true.”

“But is it something nice?” she insisted.

“Well, I suppose…”

You noticed that your mother was watching you with concern while she dried the freshly washed dishes.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take Emily to Hanna’s house?” she asked, interrupting your daughter's incessant questions. “I know you have to clean the bar thoroughly and it takes you quite some time.”

“No, don’t worry,” you assured her. “I want to take a walk with Emily and buy something for Heike and Norbert. Emily wants to see them today,” you explained.

“Norbert told me the other day that we could go feed the baby ducks at the lake!”

Your former in-laws knew that your daughter was their granddaughter, that she was Sebastian’s daughter, but Emily didn’t know they were her paternal grandparents, and for now, you preferred it to stay that way.

You couldn’t deny that it hurt you, but you knew things could be much worse if the couple hadn’t been so understanding. If Heike had believed that you really cheated on her son when you met two months after you had broken all ties with him and his family...

“I also want to buy them something. You know, it’s what I’ve always done,” your mother nodded with a slight smile, perfectly understanding what you meant.

“Have you thought of anything specific, honey?”

“I know Heike went to the market the other day and saw a pot of tulips that caught her attention,” the flower Seb used to give you whenever he had the chance. “I hope there are still some left.”

“I'm sure there will be. You’ll see how you brighten their day.”

I’m sure, you thought to yourself as you finished breakfast. Once you were done and made sure you were a bit tidied up and had everything you needed, you and Emily said goodbye to your parents with the promise of returning in the evening to have dinner together, although you knew you would end up doing overtime at work.

The little one’s blonde hair, completely loose, was tangled by the wind. Her boots were covered in mud because all she did was jump in puddles without letting go of her right hand from yours, and her left from the handle of the Peppa Pig backpack she carried on her shoulders.

“Mommy, why do I have to stay with Aunt Hanna today? It’s your birthday…”

“I have to work, mäuschen,” you said as calmly as you could, trying not to succumb to her gaze. “We have to help granny and pops buy food, pay the rent…”

“But granny and pops are your parents! They have to take care of you like you take care of me,” she interrupted.

You continued chatting cheerfully during the short walk from your house to the flower shop. While the clerk attended to you, Emily couldn’t stop pointing at all the flowers and giving them made-up names.

A few minutes later, you had already paid and arrived at your best friend’s house, who was already waiting for you at her door, arms crossed until she opened them as your daughter ran towards her.

“How is my favorite person in the world today?”

“I’m very good because today is Mommy’s birthday, Aunt Hanna!” she replied, burying herself in her arms. “Mommy said we can go see Heike and Norbert!”

“I bought them yellow tulips.”

You raised the bag with the pot and shrugged as she gave you a disapproving look.

You knew perfectly well that she was thinking the same as you, and you couldn’t agree more. But how were you supposed to tell Sebastian that he had a four-year-old daughter out of nowhere?

You tried to hold back the tears forming in your eyes when you heard the blonde telling your daughter that cartoons were on TV and that she should go watch them because she needed to talk to you. Fortunately, she didn’t object.

“I’m not going to tell you what you should do because we’ve been like this for almost five years and you’re old enough to make your own decisions, but…”

“I want to tell him, Hanna,” you blurted out, finally revealing what had been on your mind so many times. “I don’t know when or how, but I’m going to tell Seb that she’s his daughter.”

“I was going to ask if you were okay, but I see you’re not.”

Her face was completely serious, and you sweared that if today weren’t your birthday and you weren’t more sensitive than usual, she would have given you one of the biggest scoldings of your life.

“You know today is a difficult day for me,” you confessed what she already knew. You handed her the bag with the pot you had bought for Heike, and she hesitated whether to take it or not. “Would you mind taking this to Heike’s house? Emily is eager to see her, and I… I can’t go. Not today.”

“Y/N…”

Still holding the pot tightly to her chest and her compassionate eyes piercing you, you noticed her hesitation, finally speaking after a few seconds that felt like an eternity.

“Have you seen how the video is coming along?”

Your heart raced just thinking about the video you uploaded to YouTube yesterday, singing Red. You hadn’t checked its performance, and it wasn't your intention. Like every birthday, you had turned off your mobile phone and ensured the next time you turned it on, it would be with Hanna present to delete the email your ex-boyfriend sent you annually at midnight on your birthday.

“I haven’t seen it, and I don’t plan to,” you responded quickly, turning away. Her hand caught your wrist swiftly, forcing you to turn around. “Come on, Hanna, I have to go to work.”

“I want to talk about this, Y/N. You can’t act like nothing happened. You can’t keep avoiding it.”

“I don’t want to know anything about that, Hanna,” you answered aggressively, referring to any birthday wishes from the German. “I don’t want to read things I shouldn’t. Besides, considering he has free practice today, do you really think he wished me a happy birthday?”

“You should read it, Y/N. I know things between you and Seb aren’t what they used to be, but still…”

“No, Hanna, I don’t want to read it today, tomorrow, or ever.”

With those words, you turned away without even saying goodbye and started walking towards the bar where you worked, for once in your life, determined and with your head held high.

As you walked away, your friend’s voice grew louder, insisting on what you had already made clear you didn’t want:

“Y/N, you should read Seb’s damn message! Damn it, it could be important!”

You stopped for a moment, feeling a lump in your throat as Hanna’s unusual yelling and cursing echoed in your ears.

You turned once again, now facing her but much less determined and, to be honest, a bit scared, though that didn’t mean you would back down or change an opinion you constantly changed out of fear of facing the situation and wanting to change it.

“I don’t want to talk about Seb, Hanna! Just do me a favor and take the pot to Heike, please!” you yelled, feeling the anger taking over you.

“Y/N, I understand you’re confused and want to tell Seb. Maybe today is a good opportunity to get in touch again and…”

“Damn it, Hanna, I already told you I don’t want to talk about this!”

Your shouts were out of control. Your voice trembled, and so did the rest of your body. You hated talking about Seb and not knowing how to handle the situation, but you hated even more when Emily saw you like this and felt guilty for everything.

Now, with tears in her eyes, your daughter’s little head peeked timidly through the front door, unable to control herself as you were.

Once again, you had failed her as you had promised you wouldn’t.

“Hanna…” you said to the blonde, now calmer. You pointed to the child with your head, and she turned to look at her subtly. “I don’t want her to think I don’t love her or that all the problems are her fault, so please: don’t mention Sebastian when we’re together and she’s around. I don’t want to feel like an even worse mother than I already do most days.”

“Understood, no problem. I won’t bring him up in front of the little one.”

You prayed it would be that way, not just on the way to the bar, which wasn’t far from Hanna’s house, but also once you were inside and started preparing everything. While sweeping and mopping, you tried to avoid the mobile phone, but it was impossible. It had been resting on the counter, still off, since you arrived, and you tried your best to keep it that way. You had your daughter, your parents, and your best friend by your side; Niall, since you told him what happened with your ex, started sending you a postcard a few days before just in case it didn’t arrive on time. Even your ex-in-laws met with you, if not the day before, the day after.

What you were trying to avoid at all costs was the damn email that Sebastian sent every April 27th, which you wished you could read but didn’t because you knew it would leave you shattered.

You sighed and ended up taking the device, knowing that if you wanted to reveal the truth to the sunshine of your life, today was a good day to do it, as Hanna had told you.

“Mommy! We have a present for you!”

You jumped when you heard your daughter’s shouts. She and Hanna were running and walking, respectively, towards you. The little one was carrying a bag in one hand in which you could see the head of Billy, her favorite stuffed panda.

She didn’t hesitate to hand you the bag, with the teddy bear included, as soon as she got beside you. Hanna also approached you as you focused on your daughter, holding a cake in her hands.

“Don’t say anything,” she started, knowing you would ask why. “It was Heike’s idea, and since she knows how much you like cookie cake…”

“Especially hers,” you replied with a laugh, remembering all the times you and her son asked her to make that cake beyond special occasions. “God, you don’t know how much I appreciate it. Did she like the tulips?”

She nodded, placing the cake on the counter.

“She said they would have been better if you had given them to her. She wants to see you, Y/N,” she added.

“I know.”

“Do you want us to blow out the candles again, Mommy?”

Emily’s interruption and question took you completely by surprise. It was impossible to resist the sparkle in her eyes and her curved lips; it was as if you were denying Seb, not her.

“Of course, darling.”

Despite how mentally bad you felt, you made an effort not to show it. You took your daughter in your arms, and together you approached the cake. Prater started the singing, and Emily and you joined her immediately, swaying from side to side.

You blew out the candles as soon as they started clapping and, for once in your life, you wished to see Seb again, even if just for a moment.

A welcome, a new beginning or a farewell, a definitive goodbye. At this point you really didn't care much about it.

Thinking too much about Sebastian Vettel in the past few weeks had been the real reason you decided to publish Red yesterday. As you had composed it while pregnant with Emily.

Seeing your daughter not only playing on the little stage where you were used to sing almost every night with a couple of toy cars, including her father’s Ferrari Formula 1 car, and her stuffed animal, reminded you of the countless times Seb and you promised each other this life, but together.

“First of all, I don’t want you to panic, but… you have to see this.”

Hanna Prater’s words scared you like they rarely did.

With her phone in hand and without saying a word, she placed it in front of you, revealing the views the YouTube video you uploaded had garnered in just a day.

Your eyes widened at the high number on the screen. A small scream escaped your lips, startling Hanna, who imitated you, and even Emily, who ran towards you with great concern on her face.

“Mommy, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, darling,” you assured her, trying to contain the shock. “Keep playing. Aunt Hanna and I are talking about some things for my birthday party tonight.”

Your answer seemed to calm her. She nodded with a smile and returned to the stage, leaving you alone again.

"Yes, I know, Hanna, I have to improvise a birthday party now. I swear I'll do it as soon as we finish all this," you replied, anticipating her reproach.

Hanna shook her head and buried herself in her phone again. She seemed completely engrossed in it; her fingers were constantly moving across the screen, worrying you about everything she was trying to show you.

Hanna, I need you to tell me if it's Y/N in this link.

I mean, you don't have to tell me because I know it's her. She sounds exactly like Y/N, and she plays the piano, which is a plus because Y/N knows how to play the piano.

God, I feel like a mix of Sherlock and a stalker.

You understand me, so...

Jeez, tell her to answer to the message I've sent her, please.

I just want to know if the song is about us or if I'm just getting my hopes up four years after breaking up.

And, with those words and butterflies invading your stomach, you clicked on the link he attached. There you were, playing the piano while singing a song about the same guy who had not only talked to your best friend but also to you.

"Did Seb send you that message?" you wanted to know, thinking it was really a joke.

She nodded.

"It seems he didn't just send you the annual email, but also a WhatsApp message."

"A message and an email that, by the way, I am not going to read. Neither of them," you assured her.

"He knows you sing Red, and he suspects Red is about him," your friend began to say. "Don't you think there are too many coincidences for you two to, I don't know, talk or something?"

"I have nothing to talk to him about," you replied.

"Emily's existence means nothing to you then?"

It meant everything, but you had mixed feelings about telling Sebastian.

He was going to hate you, that was clear, but you didn't want that hate to end up being directed at Emily because of something that was completely your fault.

"Emily means everything to me, but I can't let Seb know, at least not for now. He has many chances of winning the championship this year finally, and..."

Once again, another excuse to avoid reality and the fear you had of rejection.

"Y/N, I love you so much and you know it, but you can't keep going on like this," Prater stated, raising her voice a little. "His parents know, yours know; I know, and possibly a large majority of people in this town. For God's sake, even Britta knows, and I don't even know how she hasn't told him yet!"

"Britta came..."

"I know perfectly well that Britta came looking for an explanation, just what Seb didn't do and maybe should have done even though you asked for space," she interrupted you, wanting to continue her impromptu speech. "If you want to move forward, you have to face your fear for once. If you won't do it for yourself, at least do it for Emily. She deserves to know her father and not ask me why her little friends in kindergarten have dads and she doesn't."

Her words made you feel like the villain of the story, the one doing everything wrong. You wanted to ignore her advice and, as always, avoid the subject, but you knew she was right.

"I can't, Hanna. I can't turn on the mobile phone. Not today."

"Allow yourself to start your thirties on the right foot. Don't you think it's better to face fear with someone than to go through it alone? You have me here for whatever you need, Y/N, and you know it."

You let out a long sigh. You walked to the bar, took your cell phone in your trembling hands, and turned it on, feeling the anxiety and uncertainty increase as the device slowly lit up.

When you entered the code and unlocked it, notifications started to appear.

You gradually checked the YouTube notifications, seeing the overwhelming number of likes and comments. Hanna, whose head was peeking to try to see something, shushed you when you ignored the YouTube-related emails and moved on to the text messages, caring little about what she thought.

Niall told you that going viral on your birthday was not only the best thing that could happen to you and the best birthday present they could have given you, but also a whimsical sign from fate to do something worthwhile with your music. At the end of the message, the Irishman asked you to call him when you could, as it was important.

You moved on to Sebastian's PR message, completely ignoring the Irishman's nudge and other various birthday greetings. Britta asked how you could post a video, singing, without telling her anything and, much less, singing about her client. She said you were crazy and lucky that Vettel hadn't suspected anything about the song or, fortunately, about mäuschen.

You calmed down a bit, but the tranquility barely lasted. Seb's message was the one at the top of the WhatsApp home page. It was more than obvious that it was the most recent, from just an hour ago. Also, it was the least one you wanted to open.

You looked up at Hanna, seeking confirmation you knew you didn't need, and that she had already given you.

"Open it, Y/N. It's okay."

You had to be alone when you did it. You asked your friend to take care of Emily and wait for a moment, that you'd be back in a few moments.

You went into the bathroom. You positioned yourself in one of the corners and sat on the floor, legs crossed and the phone in your hands, and started having flashbacks of the day you broke up with Seb.

Happy birthday, Y/N.

If you can and, above all, want to, please read the email I sent you.

I know it's you. The girl behind the song that went viral, I mean.

The song is great, but I couldn't expect anything less from you. It's pure art.

Your tears were already falling down your face. You took a deep breath and forced yourself, though it might not have been better in your current situation, to open the message your ex was talking about.

As usual, you had received it at midnight. And, of course, the profile picture was still one of the two of you lying in bed, him kissing you, and you smiling, just as you were now.

Dear sunshine of my life,

Happy birthday. Or better said: happy thirtieth birthday. 

I know we haven't heard from each other directly in four years. Maybe you see me on TV from time to time, or maybe not, and the last time I saw you was a few years ago, but that's not the point.

Maybe I wasn't the best boyfriend in the world, nor the best friend. I still wonder what I did to make you leave like that, but I won't blame you, at least not after so much time. I miss you more than I can express, and you don't know what I would give to have the chance to fix things between us.

I can't ask you to forgive me, nor can I force you to come back to me or to have a friendship, cordiality or whatever you want to call it, but I hope we can find the opportunity to forgive each other.

If you're ever ready to talk, or for anything you want, I will always be waiting for you, just as I have done for these past four, almost five, years.

P.S.: My mother always tells me she makes a cookie cake for your birthday, so I hope for your thirtieth she makes a special one and you all enjoy it as you deserve.

Tears blurred your vision as you continued reading Sebastian's words. A wave of emotions, ranging from anger and disappointment to perhaps, confusion, flooded every part of your body.

You began to write that you wanted to talk to him, that what you most desired in this world and what you most regretted was the ultimatum you gave him. That you could meet whenever he wanted to tell him everything that had happened since that day in Barcelona. That Emily is his daughter, that she looks more like him every day, and that you're convinced the moment he meets her, she'll become his favorite person.

After rereading all your words, written in desperation, you stopped.

You couldn't send him that; you couldn't reply, at least not yet. You couldn't give him false hopes, not when the possibility that revealing Emily's existence might affect the championship he so longed for with Ferrari, not just since he joined the team in 2015, but since you both barely knew yourselves.

You decided to delete the message and, instead, phone Horan's number, promising yourself that you would reply to Seb as soon as you hung up. You dried your tears, inhaled and exhaled deeply, trying to calm down a bit more, and left the bathroom with much more confidence than when you entered, as you heard the phone ringing.

Emily was still playing, now dancing to some music, while Hanna was speaking too heatedly in your native language with someone. You tried to pay attention to what the blonde was saying, but the Irishman's voice on the phone caught you off guard:

"Next week. London. Joseph Benson being your personal Britta, maybe?"

You didn't understand anything, and the mere mention of Roeske made you shudder. You knew Niall had done it with the best of his intentions, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt.

"What?"

"Capital Records, Y/N," Niall affirmed. "They heard Red and, although they don't know who you are or who the girl behind the song is, better said, I want to introduce you to them. Maybe I told them I knew the girl behind that..."

You saw your friend ending the call too quickly just to approach you, visibly desperate. She made some gestures, grabbing your arms to try get your attention.

"Jeez, Hanna, wait," you replied grumpily in German.

"Is Hanna there?" the singer wanted to know. "Say her hi for me, and thanks in advance for taking care of Emily next week!"

"We'll talk about it later, Niall. People are starting to come into the bar."

With that excuse, and without giving him time to finish talking, you hung up. You turned to Hanna, who was still desperate, making you also start to get desperate and worried.

"What happened?" you demanded to know, considering she hadn't said anything yet.

"I just talked to Sebastian and Britta."

Her expression had now become more serious. Your chest started to ache, and your heart began to beat faster.

"And...?"

"Sebastian is coming next week," she said in a low voice so your daughter wouldn't hear. "I know you'll come up with some excuse, and that you also have to talk to Niall about I don't know, but he wants to talk. Seb wants to talk to you... seriously."

[ghouldump]

Your lestat x louis x claudia fic EATSSSSSSSS

If your are up to it could you do something with my pretty husband armand and his manipulative ways?

Beautiful Deception | Armand x Reader

ෆ moving to paris, the last thing you expected was to come across the ancient vampire.

lol thank youuu so much, i hope you like this 💕 sometimes i take a while to post because i rewrite my work over and over until i think it’s good. this was a great idea and i don’t mind taking more.

“How long will you continue to claim that you are a vampire?” The interviewer, Daniel Malloy asked. Crossing your leg over the other, you smiled.

“It is merely one of many truths, but I will let you and the readers decide if it should be accepted,” you said.

It had been nearly a year since you turned 100. Since you made the blog, originally to share stories from your past. Despite all events being true, and the website becoming a success, it was all seen as fiction. You were seen as a character, an upcoming writer dedicated to your role, but it would be coming to an end. Daniel, someone you’d been studying for some time now, needed a story, something fresh. He was getting the raw unspoken truth, things you hadn’t shared before, publishing it along with an interview.

“Why now?”

“Why not now, Daniel? We live in a new age, where we people of the night should be known,” you smirked.

Just then, the door opened, and Armand, your partner of over 80 years entered. The sleek black turtle neck was perfect against his glowing brown skin. Turning to him, you looked up in admiration, as he placed a soft kiss on your lips, before sitting next to you.

“I hope you don't mind, my husband, Armand, joining us”

“Armand the vampire? You said some concerning things about him,” Daniel said, trying to get under both of your skin.

“We’ve moved past those times,” you said, as Armand intertwined your fingers.

“Alright, whatever that’s supposed to mean, shall we start?”

“Yes, let’s,” you smiled, nodding.

“Let’s start here…”

Run, run, don’t stop, keep running.

Your heart pounded, as you ran through the streets, gasping for air as you grew more tired. Afraid to look back, you kept going, you were sure you’d drop dead in fear seeing him behind you. Turning on nearly every corner, relief washed over, seeing a store owner closing his shop.

“Sir,” you called out, as you jogged to him.

“No, no, I’m closing,” he pointed at the sign.

“Please help me, he’s going to get me,” you cried, as the man finally turned to face you, genuinely concerned.

“Come in,” he said, letting you into the store. As you came in, he locked the door behind you. With the adrenaline coming down, you could feel pain in your foot from stepping in glass.

“We have to hide,” you told the man, tugging at his sleeve.

“You go,” he pointed to the back, before he went behind the counter, pulling a shotgun out.

Limping to the back of the store, looking back one more time, you screamed as the door burst open, the shop owner being killed instantly. As the elderly man fell to the floor, you cried out, before he appeared in front of you.

“Y/n,” his eyes softened seeing your tear stained face, all of your makeup running down, mixed with the tears.

“Please….”

“You’re moving ahead of yourself, Daniel, we have to start from the beginning, I had just moved to France-

“So Armand didn’t kill the shop owner and was about to kill you next?” He asked, as Armand clenched his jaw, glaring at the man.

“Daniel, you only get one session, you have to get this right, just let the story seduce you as it had done to me,” you said as he begrudgingly nodded, finally ready to listen.

"Here are your keys, rent is due on the third of each month," your new landlord, Henri said, handing the keys to your husband, Phillip.

“Thank you, sir,” he muttered, while you giggled, your eyes exploring the place. Neither of you was the best at French, at least speaking it. Despite the previous months of studying and reciting, your articulation was still overwhelmingly, American.

He didn't say anything, giving you both a questionable stare, before leaving the small apartment. Compacted in size, and already cluttered with furniture, but it was your new home, and that's all that mattered. Shutting the front door, you walked over to the full-sized bed. This was the fresh start you needed.

“What do you think?” Philip asked.

“I love it,” you told him, jumping into his arms.

Living all of your life in the States, you were the youngest of two children. Your father, you never knew, not that it mattered too much to you. It was your mother who came from a wealthy family in France. Before she decided to move to its child, New Orleans.

She didn't talk about her time there much, only telling short stories about your grandparents or her early life in Paris. She was lonely as a child, and her parents were oftentimes neglectful, as a result of having her at an old age.

Having her own children, you and your twin brother, Elijah, from a hookup with an attractive soldier, she vowed to dedicate herself to both of you. She made sure neither of you ever went without, providing the best of your desires.

Around 9, you were certain you wanted to be a performer. It didn't matter how or what you did, the idea of being adored, captivating the crowd, your juvenile mind was set. Your mother soon paid for all sorts of lessons, dancing, singing, and instruments, she was just as determined that you would achieve your dreams.

While you were striving for your goals, your brother, Elijah, struggled with living in your shadow. You took up most of your mother's time, which is how she didn't notice the bullying. He had always been introverted, harmless as a butterfly, nose deep in a book. While you were holding onto hopes and dreams, your brother was guaranteed a successful life with how smart he’d always been.

However, there was a problem, jealousy. She was a demon, stronger than most, willing to compel whoever that would allow, to do whatever their deepest desires were. This is why, on that Saturday evening, on your 14th birthday, you and your mother left for the market, intending on baking a cake for the two of you, she attacked.

Bullies from his class saw him as he was taking out the trash. They never liked the boy, coveting the lifestyle he had been fortunately given. Attacking him, they only meant to roughen him up a bit, until he fought back. Then, filled with that ancient spirit of jealousy, one of them picked up a rock.

Thankfully, one of the neighbors heard the commotion and came running to save him, but the damage had been done. From that point on, your brother was different, as was your mother.

The life that he was once guaranteed to have was gone and your mother spent all of her time focused on caring for him. She still paid for your classes, but you were no longer a priority.

At 18, you met and eventually married Philip, a 22-year-old, journalist. He was very handsome with the most alluring brown eyes and soft wavy hair. He didn't have much money, but once he settled somewhere and established his career, he promised to give you the world.

Your mother disapproved of the marriage, how could you carelessly marry a poor man trusting his empty promises, she screamed at you. Which is why, out of spite, you told her you’d be moving to Paris. You watched as the hardened expression dropped, and sad memories flashed through her eyes. Throwing her hands up, she gave up with her argument, letting you leave, sending a parting gift of a few thousand dollars, before you were out of the country.

Now in the beautiful city, Phillip’s future seemed to be already looking up to be just as bright, as he had already been hired by a popular news corporation. Securing the apartment was simply the final step in your new life, at least that's what you thought.

Immediately, Philip worked day and night, hoping to begin to provide you with the life you deserved. Dates weren't as frequent as they once were in the States, but intimacy was just as regular as before, if not more.

Meanwhile, you oftentimes left home, looking for work. Not many places would hire women and the people who did expected their workers to work twice as much as they were paid. Until The Grand Cabaret, Edward, the head director of the restaurant/theatre was in dire need of new performances.

He'd stopped you on your way home from the store, captivated by your looks, giving you his card. Telling Phillip about the man, he agreed that it could be a good idea. Perhaps even a step towards becoming the big star you always wanted to be.

The next night you went, Philip was going to be out a little later than usual, finishing work. Anxiously, you made your way to the address on the card. Stopping in front of the building, you were surprised by the lack of guests. The establishment was nice, a few people were seated eating, and slow music was playing, but people continued to walk past.

“Ah, mademoiselle,” Edward smiled, as he stepped out.

“Not a busy night?” you asked him.

“People are more willing to eat with an equally lovely performance,” he said sheepishly, his eyes shifting to his left.

Following his eyes, you stared at the theater, Théâtre des Vampires. You could see the line of customers, excited to get into the theater. Although, the workers looked extremely rude and intimidating, dressed in the vampire costumes.

“I’m sure you just need the right act,” you told him, making eye contact with security, catching his brash expression.

“Do you sing or dance…?” He asked, waiting to hear your name.

“Y/n, and yes, I’ve been trained in both, I will admit, I am still not the greatest singer,” you laughed, as you accepted his hand.

“Please allow me to offer you a job here, as one of our employees. I trust your word, I am desperate, you’ll be paid weekly-

“I-when would I start?”

“Tonight…I mean, if it is possible,” he said.

“I can only stay for a while, my husband isn’t aware that I am away”

“Yes, of course, come right this way,” he said, leading you to the dressing room, allowing you to set your things down.

The cast members were all kind, introducing themselves as you glanced at yourself, checking your makeup.

“We have our newest act of the evening, the lovely and beautiful, Y/n,” Edward said, introducing you, before leaving the stage. He could already see the attention shifting to you, excitedly he opened the door, along with the windows, allowing potential guests to see.

“Just follow my lead,” you spoke to the small orchestra before you began singing a song you’d heard back when you lived with your mother. As the audience grew more interested, you felt your confidence rising by the second, as you danced freely, shutting your eyes, thrilled to finally be performing.

That night, for the first time, The Grand Cabaret was a full house. Everyone who passed wanted to see and hear more of your talent. As everyone clapped for you, and you could see now, you would be a star.

“What is the meaning of this?” Santiago frowned at Sam, wondering why he hadn’t been notified about any signaling of the play starting.

“Well…” Sam faced their leader, who stood, waiting for an answer.

“They’ve all gone to that stupid cabaret,” Estelle crossed her arms.

“Cabaret?”

“Apparently there is a new girl, American, she’s bringing them a bit of attention with her…performances,” Celeste told him.

Not saying a word, Armand furrowed his eyebrows, leaving the theater. His steps held a steady stride as he approached the building. Never since the theater had been opened had the place been empty. He had to see with his own eyes, this person, what had you done to take all of the loyal guests.

As he approached the entrance, the first thing he noticed was everyone wearing all black. The Dance of the Dead, starring the beautiful lead, Y/n,” his eyes skimmed the sign.

“Excuse me,” you said, brushing past Armand, and nearly running to the dressing room.

It had been a little over a month since you began working and although at first anxious, you were more than grateful for the opportunity. Edward was incredibly generous, wanting to keep his main act satisfied. You began to recommend themes, scenery, and new music, the guest needed to be able to visualize the show further than what you were giving.

The Dance of the Dead was a mockery of the vampire theater but with your own twist. A few people you'd grown familiar with had gone, telling you about how real everything seemed. How they’d managed to pull off some sort of screenplay, like movies. You never took the time to visit yourself, but saw the action as simply a little fun competition.

As the lights dimmed, Armand sat down, unintentionally gulping as you sauntered onto the stage. Immediately, the music started, along with your dancing. Armand watched as everyone focused, hypnotized as you were oozing in sex appeal. He nearly second-guessed himself about you, it shouldn't be possible for a mortal to captivate so many people in such a way, Armand thought to himself.

Going to your knees, as your head went back, he couldn’t help but think of how supernatural your beauty was, how luring your essence was. Going further to the floor, you faced the audience, your eyes meeting his. He smirked slightly, nodding at you, while you bit your lips.

As the song came to an end, you stood up, bowing your head. The audience cheered loudly, clapping and whistling.

‘Beautiful’ you heard, your eyes going to Armand, as he stood up.

“Thank you,” you blew kisses at the crowd, before going backstage.

He watched in amazement as they still cheered for you, the way that you moved ingrained into his thoughts. Coming from the dressing room, you looked almost different, blending in with the audience. He walked to the door, as you talked with your boss, accepting the envelope, along with a quick hug.

Moving outside, he stayed not too far behind you. Seeing that no one was around, he sped up, intentionally bumping into you.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologized, as his hand brushed against your waist.

“No, it is my apologies, I may be mistaken, but do you work at the Cabaret?”

“Yes, I do,” he watched as your eyes twinkled with joy.

“I’m Armand, I am the director of Théâtre des Vampires,” he held out his hand.

“Y/n,” you went to shake his hand but froze as he lifted your hand, placing a soft kiss near your knuckles.

“I…I have to get home, my husband is waiting,” you told him, emphasizing the title, as he stared into your eyes. You couldn't deny the mysterious man was quite the sight.

“Allow me to walk you home,” he offered.

“Oh no, I wouldn't want to take up your time-

“Nonsense, a woman of your caliber should be escorted, perhaps we could talk business,” he said, making you smile.

“Okay,” you nodded.

“Ladies first,” he motioned for you to lead the way.

Armand was unnaturally enchanting in every aspect, a forbidden fruit your heart told you to stay away from, but your flesh tingled in his presence. It was an unspoken understanding that you could only see him at night at these shows. You anticipated seeing his youthful face, every Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday. He'd sit within the audience, watching your every move. Then backstage, approaching you, he'd always have a fresh bouquet. You would give him a look and he’d say something along the lines of how a star deserves flowers.

“Knock knock,” Armand said, catching your attention, turning from the vanity.

“Hi,” you smiled, standing up, and closing your robe.

“For you, the beautiful star of the show,” he said, handing you the bouquet.

“Thank you, Armand,” you told him.

“You never have to thank me,” he shook his head, reaching for your hand, and placing a soft kiss on top. Pulling away, as your heart leaped, you shifted your eyes.

“I have to get home soon,” you said.

“Right, your husband…it is a shame he doesn't come out to support you,” Armand said, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“He works a lot”

“Unfortunate, I mean for him, because I get to have you to myself,” he said, smirking.

“Are you walking me home?” you asked, your face burning at his shameless joke.

“I'm ready when you are, angel”

You admired Armand, greatly, how confident, bold, intelligent, handsome-wait. Being around Armand, you oftentimes had to remind yourself you were married, as well as him. He had no problem blatantly flirting and laughing as you froze up in embarrassment. The two of you were growing closer than you should have been, while, it seemed like your marriage was crumbling.

“I don't want you working there anymore,” Philip told you, as you replaced the water in the vase, setting it near the window.

“Why? The extra money is helping…” you said, still staring at the flowers, Armand crossing your mind.

“My colleagues have been talking about the place nonstop, they think you’re some exotic whore,” he grumbled.

“Okay? There opinions aren’t paying us,” you told him.

“I don’t need them having you as a subject in the paper, you’re quitting,” he began to raise his voice.

“Philip, the money is great”

“I told you, I would provide the life you deserve-

“When? We’ve been out here for nearly a year and you have no signs of a pay increase. Am I supposed to sit around and hope? My mother was right about you,” you spat.

“What did you say?” He stalked towards you, your hands went up defensively as he walked towards you, as if you were prey. Raising his hand, he held it high, ready to strike you. You’d shut your eyes, waiting for the blow, but it never came.

Opening your eyes, you watched as he stood still, realizing what he was about to do, he shook his head.

“I’m sorry,” he began to repeat, reaching for you before you ran out of the building. As you made it down the flight of stairs, you mentally cursed yourself, realizing you forgot to grab your coat, but were too afraid to go back.

Instead you walked the streets, stopping in your tracks, seeing the familiar faces. The cast members dressed as creatures of the night. You were about to walk towards them when a hand lightly pulled you backward. Gasping, your face relaxed as you bumped into Armand.

“Hi,” you said, breathlessly.

“What are you doing out here, in the middle of the night?” He tilted his head at you. You could ask the same thing, they were all here, a good distance from the theater.

“Just walking around, clearing my mind,” you said, shrugging.

“Something happened?” He asked, a concerned expression on his face.

“I’ll be fine, it’s nothing,” you shook your head. Armand was the last person you wanted to burden your problems with.

“Then allow me to join you, we can clear our minds together,” he intertwined his arm with yours.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to-

“Shall we go to the park? It’s quiet around this time,” he thought, leading you in the other direction.

“What are you all doing out here, in the middle of the night?” You asked him.

“Finding…inspiration,” he smirked.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course”

“Do you think it is wrong to regret big decisions you’ve made?”

“I think there are no coincidences, your mistake can lead you to your biggest culmination, regret is unnecessary, stress about something from your past, but tell me, what is it, you wish could have been done differently?”

“Maybe stayed home, pursued my dreams there, found a husband who was a man of his word, who supported my ambitions despite if others thought negatively of me,” you said, you hadn't realized you were crying until you felt Armand's finger brushing the tears away.

“This is nothing to be ashamed of, your dreams are coming to reality and I am a man of my word, I couldn’t care what anyone has to say when you’re on stage,” he smirked as you started laughing.

“And why is that?” You stopped walking.

“Because my eyes are blessed to see an angel and I don’t want to miss any parts of your beauty,” he said, as he gazed into your glossy eyes. Stepping closer, he pressed his lips against your own, and your arms guilelessly went around his neck.

“Where have you been, all my life?” you peered into his eyes.

“Waiting for you,” he said, kissing your lips, once more.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” you giggled as the kiss broke.

“You’ve been worth the wait, come, it is getting late, I’m sure there are still some hotels opened-

“I can go home”

“Y/n-

“Trust me, I’ll be fine at home,” you smiled, as he redirected the walk to your apartment.

“Are you sure you want to stay here tonight?” Armand asked, as you both stood outside your door.

“Knowing Philip, he left,” you reassured him.

“Come to my theater tomorrow night”

“Okay,” you nodded.

“See you then,” he grinned, pecking your lips, before turning away.

“Edward, I don’t understand?” You frowned, trying to fathom what he was saying.

“I think it’s better this way, I’ve been more than grateful for the business you’ve brought to us, but we can’t risk having the article released, it will do more damage than anything,” he explained, his eyes full of pity.

You had extra time on your hands, stopping at your job, when Edward gave you the news. He was firing you, not because you had done anything wrong, but because he had received an anonymous tip about the cabaret soon to be in the media, and not for anything positive - going as far as being compared to a brothel.

All coverage wasn't good coverage in Edwards's eyes and he knew the target audience would turn away from the establishment in an instant.

“I'm sorry, Y/n,” he said, as you sighed, before putting on your best smile. You wouldn't cry now, sometimes this happened to big stars, you told yourself.

“It is alright, I wish you nothing but the best, goodbye,” you told him, leaving the cabaret.

You never looked back, keeping your eyes forward as you approached the ticket collector. His eyes snapped to you as he slightly frowned.

“There is a line,” he told you matter-factly.

“Is Armand here?”

“You can find out after you get in line just like everyone else-

“Y/n,” Armand walked outside, giving him a look. You watched as he lowered his gaze, almost in submission.

“Come,” he motioned, reaching out. Smiling, you accepted his hand, letting him lead you to his booth.

“Is there a reason you look like you’re on the verge of tears?”

“Just trying to figure out why everything is going wrong in my life,” you said, with a chuckle.

“Perhaps your culmination is closer than you realize”

“I hope you’re right”

“I’m in love with you,” your eyes widened at his words as you spoke at the same time.

“Armand, I-

“Since the moment you graced my eyes, I’ve been bewitched by your presence and…and I don’t want to leave it. I can give you the life you deserve, a stage to perform, love unlike any other, and pleasure beyond comprehension, choose me,” he told you, his eyes went to your lips, before he turned, watching as the lights dimmed.

Throughout the play, you could hardly focus, as your finger interlocked with Armand’s. His thumb caressed your warm flesh, bringing your hand to his lips. You could agree with your former colleagues, the play seemed real, almost too real. If it wasn’t for Armand’s swooning, you would be panicking.

You watched as the girl screamed, begging to be saved, but death came to collect. Surrounding her, her shrieking faded away as the curtains closed.

“That was…intense,” you gulped, as Armand laughed.

“It is all apart of the show,” he reminded you.

“Yes, doesn’t change that it was a little scary”

“You would look ravishing on that stage, whatever you'd like, singing, dance, it's yours,” he told you.

“I have to go,” you bit back your smiled, flattered by his bold promises.

“Stay, for tonight”

“I can't, it has been on my heart to write to my mother, so I want to get a head start,” you told him.

“Then will I see you tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow night,” you nodded, accepting his kiss, before you left, making your way home.

Thinking of the steady decline of your marriage, you worried for your future, if you were headed towards a divorce. Your mother was the smartest woman you knew and although she was disappointed, you knew she would never turn her back completely. Like the prodigal son, you’d return home if it meant better circumstances, and your mother like the father, would accept you with open arms. Your heart wanted to believe Armand, but you couldn’t allow yourself to fall for more empty promises.

Settling back into the apartment, you sat at Philip’s desk. You wouldn't consider yourself nearly as good as a writer as he was, but he had taught you a few things to better your craft. Grabbing a pen, you started a bit formal, it had been a while since you'd seen your mother after all.

As your writing progressed, you poured your emotions out into the paper. Dealing with the suppressed feeling of being the reason for your brother's condition, your failed attempts at marriage, and your career, since leaving home. Glancing at the clock on the wall, you raised your eyebrows at the time. Had it already been two hours of writing? Albeit, there was a pile of crumbled papers.

Suddenly the door burst open, Philip rushed in, terror covering his face. Locking the door, he immediately went to the small kitchen, pushing the stove in front of the door.

“Philip?”

Hearing his name, his head jerked around as he met your gaze. Rushing over to you, he stopped, seeing you back away nervously.

“Y/n, please, I won’t…just let me explain,” he said, opening the manila folder.

“It started when you wanted to work at the Cabaret, I was so excited for you, I started an article, you were going to have an entire page. But…but then my brain began to get distorted and fuzzy, I could hardly think. Before I knew it, the article was on fire. I came to your show and I noticed someone”

“You came to my show before?”

“Always, after the first time, you came home gushing, I promised to try to make it,” he said, pulling out the stack of photos he continued.

“This man, he came to every show, front row, bringing you flowers,” he showed a series of pictures of Armand, some of the photos you were in. His arms around you, his lips pressed against your own.

“Philip-

“Just listen,” he shook his head, stopping you.

“I went to his theater, to confront him, to win my wife back, but then I found this, in his office,” he pulled out more photos.

“He has been watching you since we came here, from the time we arrived, there are photos of you taken. Then, I looked around, and what I saw, they aren't human, none of them. Those aren't plays, they're actual murderings,” he cried, showing the hardly developed pictures of the coffins and corpses in a box full of rats.

“I think he has been getting in my head, since I began to suspect him, I’ve felt like another person is living inside of me,” he said, wiping his tears.

“I waited until they all settled in for rest and I set the hell house on fire, we have to leave, now, we can go home, start fresh, leave all of this behind us,” he stressed.

Moving to your shared closet, he began to rip all of your clothing from the hangers, throwing them on the bed. You stood with your hand on your stomach, trying to process the photos. Indeed, there were photos of you from the moment you stepped off the boat. You didn't want to believe any of these bizarre claims, but here was the proof right in your face.

Unexpectedly, the stove was pushed out of the way, as the door burst open. Armand walked in, his hair slightly disheveled, the scariest glare set on Philip.

“Armand?” you called his name, hesitantly.

“Y/n, run,” Philip told you, as you jumped away from the table, the paper catching ablaze.

“Philip-

“Run, now,” he shoved you, right as Armand grabbed him. His hands around his throat, lifting him off the ground. Philip struggled, trying to free himself, gasping as fangs came out. Armand seemed to be growling at him, before sinking his teeth into him, determined to drain every ounce of blood from him.

“Run,” Philip strained, as you covered your mouth, rushing out the door.

Run, run, don't stop, keep running.

Your heart pounded, as you ran through the streets, gasping for air as you grew more tired. Afraid to look back, you kept going, you were sure you'd drop dead in fear seeing him behind you. Turning on nearly every corner, relief washed over, seeing a store owner closing his shop.

"Sir," you called out, as you jogged to him.

"No, no, I'm closing," he pointed at the sign.

"Please help me, he's going to get me," you cried, as the man finally turned to face you, genuinely concerned.

"Come in," he said, letting you into the store. As you came in, he locked the door behind you. With the adrenaline coming down, you could feel pain in your foot from stepping into the glass.

"We have to hide," you told the man, tugging at his sleeve.

"You go," he pointed to the back, before he went behind the counter, pulling a shotgun out.

Limping to the back of the store, looking back one more time, you screamed as the door burst open, the shop owner being killed instantly. As the elderly man fell to the floor, you cried out, before he appeared in front of you.

"Y/n," his eyes softened seeing your tear-stained face, all of your makeup running down, mixed with the tears.

"Please, don't kill me,” you cried, shaking your head.

“Shh, shh, there is no need to cry,” he consoled you, forcing your head into his chest.

“Why did you kill him?”

“Because he married you,” he admitted.

“What are you?”

“A vampire,” he shifted his eyes as you looked at his face.

“They weren’t acting,” you shook your head, trying to shove him away.

“Not at the end, no,” he confessed. Wrapping his arms you, he walked you out of the store. You continued to try to fight him, but he was much stronger, holding you effortlessly.

Lifting into the air, you gasped, realizing he was floating, no flying! Wrapping your arms around him, you shoved your face deeper into his soft coat. He smiled as one of his hands held your head.

“We were out hunting, when I noticed you, stepping off of the boat. I could hear your precious thoughts, you were sure you'd be the next big star. You had dreams but weren't putting yourself out there, so I sent Edward to you, and I made sure he paid you like the star you are,” Armand said, as his feet landed on top of the museum.

“I showered you with praise and gifts of all kinds, and yet you left every night, going back to him, what is it that he could possibly have that I couldn't give you?” he asked, a gloomy look in his eyes.

“He was my husband, he didn’t have much, but I loved him,” you cried.

“He wouldn’t have given you the opportunities you can have. He would work himself to death, not without cheating on you to fill the void within himself because he knew he could never give you the life he promised”

“You killed him,” you continued to cry. Rolling his eyes, he felt himself growing frustrated with you.

“Because I love you, I can love you better than his wretched human mind could ever think to fathom. I could give you the eternal gift, lavishing you, treasuring you, why can’t you see, has your love for me left that quickly?” he asked, as he grabbed your face, forcing you to look into his eyes.

Glamouring you, he hoped to find the truth, that your heart had turned cold at the sight of him. Wiping your eyes softly, his hand trailed to your lips, brushing against them softly.

“No,” you said, breathlessly.

“Then choose me, you have no need to fear me, we will be companions, equals, I, your maker, and you, my angel,” he said, a bloody tear slipping out of his eye. As he looked away, you snapped out of the trance, your heart ached to see Armand this way.

“I don't think I can forgive anytime soon, but I love you and I want you,” you told him, as you began to cry all over. Reaching towards his face, you wiped the blood away, before cupping his face in your hand. Searching your face for reassurance, you nodded.

“This will hurt for a short moment, but our eternity together will make up for it,” he told you, softly pecking your lips. Swiftly dipping you, you held onto him, as his fangs sank into your neck.

“Then what happened?” Daniel raised his voice, leaning towards you.

“I drank from him, and became his fledgling. I would say the rest is history, but it’s on the blog,” you laughed.

“You forgave him, just like that, after what he had done to Philip?”

“She actually took nearly a decade before I didn’t hear anything anymore,” Armand said, lifting your hand to his lips.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to go back to a few things,” Daniel said, writing on his notebook.

“Okay, let’s hear it”

“Philip said that he came to your shows, nearly every single one, up until you were fired. But, during your time with Armand, he always seemed to working”

“He was saying a lot of things that night, him showing up to my shows was the least important thing to me at the time, but it was like 80 years ago, I don’t remember it like it was yesterday,” you laughed.

“I understand, Philip and Edward both spoke about an article, did this said article ever come about?”

“No-

“The fire was talked about, it took any attention from Y/n,” Armand interrupted.

“And what of the Cabaret? The Vampire Theater?”

“As far as we know, no one made it,” Armand said.

“The Cabaret went out of business a few years into my new life, I hear it’s a bakery now, you should visit,” you told him.

“If I’m not busy, I will think about it. What about your mother and brother?”

“I checked on them a few times, but the bloodline has ended with me,” you said, your smile faltering.

“I see,” he nodded, writing a note down.

“I trust you will do well with my story Daniel, reflecting on my past, I was a child, I didn’t have a real grasp of love and what it meant. I cared for Philip, he is who influenced my writing, but I can finally understand how much I didn’t actually love him,” you told him before he stopped the audio recording.

“Well, that’s it,” he sighed, saving the contents, before closing the computer.

“Lovely, would you like to stay for dinner?” you asked, as Daniel rubbed his head.

“No, I already made plans,” he said, his head feeling distorted and fuzzy.

“Awe, too bad, let me at least walk you to the door,” you stood, leading him to the front door of the spacious penthouse.

Sitting alone, Armand clenched his jaw, his eyes sharply piercing the air. Years upon years, nearly reversed in a single session. He could tell by the way Daniel was asking these questions, he wanted you to remember the obvious, but the truth was far too blurred for you to ever remember things how things were.

From the moment he saw you, he wanted you, filled with jealousy seeing you kiss him. He immediately began to find information about the two of you, watching from a distance. He did hear your thoughts, about how you wanted to be a star, which is why he sent Edward to you. The Cabaret had been nearby for some time now and hardly got any attention, you could work there for a while until you were ready for his stage.

Philip had been to nearly every show, but Armand was too far into your mind for you to ever notice him. Dancing and singing for the vampire alone, he had changed your memory too many times for you to even recount your performances. His breaking point was after stalking you, approaching your apartment, his heart shattered hearing you moan for him. The man he despised.

Lastly, he wished him turning you was as romantic as you made it out to be. After you told him you didn’t love him anymore, he promised that you would learn to love him again, before draining you. The thought of the fire infuriated him, his hate growing towards him. Philip ruined his plans and for that, he paid with his death. You were supposed to be turned, in the most beautiful way, becoming the lead actress at his theater. All of his plans, plans for you, the both of you, went to waste, because of him.

Armand knew some would come to this conclusion, and begin to question why. The answer was simple, so simple that many would hate him for his actions. He was jealous, seeing someone have what he wanted, so he took it. He had lived too long to care about his decisions hurting others and he held no regrets.

“Hey, are you coming to get ready for bed?” You asked, coming back to the entrance of the living room. Standing up, in an instant, he stood in front of me.

“Am I forgiven for my choices, my angel?” he asked, rubbing his face against your hands as you held his cheeks.

“You don't have to ask, don't let this story get to you, it's in our past,” you told him, furrowing your eyebrows at him.

“I love you,” he smiled, kissing your lips.

“I love you too,” you told him, kissing him once more.

“I'll join you soon,” he said, watching as you turned, walking away.

Armand would never admit how prideful and monstrous his nature could be. Selfishly, he has taken you away from any and everything you knew, keeping you all to himself. However, none of these things mattered, he had won, in the end. You were a star, only meant to perform on his stage.

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (XXVIII)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts 💚 (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... Danny has another hashtag breakdown! Man, we've got a lot of these, huh? It's YJ's fault this time; whoopsie doodles! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

“Danny,” Diana says from the door.

Danny looks up from his place in the book. It’s definitely aimed at younger kids, but it’s a pretty wordy picture book; there are a couple paragraphs he can’t quite parse, but he’s making pretty good progress on the words he can’t recognize.

It’s a story about a cat who misses its mother. Danny tries not to relate to it too much.

“Hm?” he asks, flipping the front flap of the dust cover over his current pages to mark his place. The book goes back onto the nightstand, beside his space shuttle; Danny uses the railing beside his bed to support himself stepping up and out of his wheelchair, leaning on the railing until he can figure out…wait, where’d he leave his old people walker?

“This walk is long. You will want your chair.”

Well, then. Couldn’t she have said that before Danny did all that pulling? Danny falls back into his chair, kinda peeved. “Fine.”

Diana smiles. She doesn’t have to wear the mask around him anymore— Danny’s pretty sure that his injuries have been declared as clotted, or sealed, or whatever at this rate. They for sure swabbed his ectoplasm and came to some kind of conclusion, anyway, which means he only looks gross, but isn’t, like…actively leaking fluids.

On the one hand, gross! But, well, you know. Nothing for it but bandaids and time.

And her face looks nice. Danny hadn’t known what she’d looked like, before. She smiles when she sees him. Her light eyes crinkle, and her lips turn up… She’s nice. Danny’s sure that she’s only there to be in charge of him in case he gets scary, but she’s in charge of him and she’s nice. She doesn’t have to be nice; lots of people have been in charge of him and been mean about it. There was that one guy who kept holding him—with the taser—

(Time slips away from him, a little. When he gets back to the world in front of him, Diana is carefully looking at his face, the back of her hand stroking the back of his.)

Danny’s in his chair. He’s not…there. He’s in his chair, on a big space station (????) with a bunch of really colorful fighters on it, and Diana is touching his hand (that’s so much weaker and slower than it used to be) and he’s not hungry and he’s only scared because of memories. He’s safe. He’s not being pinned down by the neck so that they can strap down his wrists and hips to the table—they’re not shocking him—he can move his fingers, he’s not stuck in his core—

His core throbs. Danny bites into his bisected lip, and tries not to cry.

“Are you alright?” Diana asks, voice gentled. The soft touch of her hand doesn’t stop. “We can wait. There is no—“

Danny shakes his head, and takes his hand away so he could wipe at his eyes. It’s fine. Bad memories are everywhere: in the walls, in the floor, in the ceiling, in the hands of people taking care of him. That’s not… There’s nothing Danny can do about that. That just. Takes time.

…He think he might have that time. Now. He thought he would die for good in that five by five box, waiting for something that would finally end him instead of just keeping him in a cycle of injuries he never fully healed from.

But now he’s not. He’s here.

He wants to keep going.

“Alright,” Diana says, slow and careful. “Hold on.”

Danny doesn’t hold on—or, well, you know, he engages his core muscles and all that, but he doesn’t cling to his arm rests or to the frame of his chair because he knows that Diana is really, really strong, but she also really, really doesn’t want to hurt him.

She rolls him out of the medical wing and into the space station proper. Danny feels like he’s been here before, but he doesn’t remember it super well. Maybe it was when he was sick or something? Either way, a lot of different people wave at him as they go by—or just straight up stare, if they’re rude—and Danny generally just watches people rush by, carrying all kinds of equipment, and a potted plant, and a…starfish in a jar…?

Oh, the starfish waves at him???? Danny waves back because?? What??

Danny rolls to a stop at a smooth, cylindrical elevator. It looks like a giant test tube.

…Oh boy. Danny takes a deep breath, and holds it. Reflexively. Sure, this elevator probably isn’t like being dunked into water to see if his body absorbs ambient oxygen from the atmosphere or if his biology is truly not oxygen-based, but the memory is. Bad.

They go upwards. Nothing happens but Diana’s pushed button.

Danny exhales.

They get off at a section of the base Danny’s never been to, and it's essentially just a long, somewhat narrow hallway. The walls are actually painted a creamy off-white here, and there’s…like…decorative panels towards the base of his wheels trailing down the hallway? An orange ceiling, too?

Huh??

The rooms are numbered, but they’re not plain steel like in other areas downstairs; some of them have stickers, or drawings, or marker written straight onto the door itself. They look...cozy...? Danny thinks so, anyway, compared to the rest of the ultra high tech space base.

They roll to a stop in front of a door. It’s got a number on it, same as all the others, but there’s a box cutout taped to the front of it. The—

—The print is of the same style of space shuttle Danny keeps next to his bed, inked onto glorious cardboard medium.

Danny stares.

“Gegrapa,” Diana urges, so gentle. Too bad that, uh, Danny doesn’t know that one. He looks at her. She mimes touching the door— Oh. Got it.

Danny leans forward just enough to touch the door with his fingertips.

The door says something in a robotic voice, but the synthesizer is too mangled for Danny to make out the words. The door slides open horizontally into the wall, instead of the way the other doors open like portals or from below, and it’s kind of cool?

Inside is a bedroom. Danny stares.

…No, it’s actually a bedroom. Not a medical wing, not a cot, not a repurposed conference room or—it’s actually got a bed in it. Like. A real one. There’s a wooden headboard and it’s got a mattress on it that’s thicker than a VCR.

There’s constellation sheets on a bed big enough to curl up on.

There’s a nightstand, a small desk on the far wall—there’s a little lip where the bedroom dips into a tiny sitting room, a small television on a table and a small table and chair. It’s kind of…it’s kind of like a little hotel suite.

Danny’s mouth goes dry.

He doesn’t move, and Diana doesn’t wheel him in. “It’s okay,” Diana says, and—Danny almost flinches when she touches his hair, but it’s only Diana, who’s never hit him, and they’re fine. He’s…safe. It’s safe. He’s safe here. “Do you want to go in?”

Danny doesn’t move. His hands don’t touch the wheels. They’re shaking; he puts his hands in his lap and he tries to breathe. “…What?” he asks hoarsely.

“A rum for my Danny,” Diana murmurs, quietly. Danny’s heart throbs at the possessive. “You are healthier now. You do not need doctors every hour, but only sum hours. You cuðe spenda more time here, all ana.”

Words go by so fast even at Diana's smooth, unhurried pace— and Danny licks dry, split lips. He looks around the room—and the room is small, sure, but they're in space. Space will always be a premium. Even in this small room, though, the furniture is sparse and placed distant from each other…distant enough that Danny can wheel around freely in his chair.

There’s a Moon clock display hung on the wall over the doorway, and Danny can faintly see the outline of what he assumes is the current lunar phase as seen from Earth.

Having the lamp isn’t exactly the same as glow-in-the-dark-stars, and thank goodness for that. If it had been, Danny might have cried.

(Or, he realizes, something burning in his eyes that isn’t ectoplasm, maybe he is crying.)

“...Me?” Danny asks, terrified to know the answer. Is this room for him?? Is he getting a room here? Is he supposed to stay here? On the moon?! Is he supposed to stay with everyone here, in a tiny room, where there’s nowhere to go and nowhere to escape?

…It’s a bedroom. It’s already so much more than the stupid guys in white ever gave him.

“Yes,” Diana says, and lets go of his hair. “Use it, or do not. Sitta here, or sitta in the medical bay, but now you have two choices.”

Okay. So Danny has choices. He swallows his feelings—they taste a lot like snot—and rolls himself inside to inspect the room.

There’s another little fridge inside the sitting area. It’s not right next to the bed like it is beside Danny’s cot, but it is the same style of fridge. When Danny pops the door open, it has the same styles of snacks. Fig Einsteins. Peanut butter squeezies and applesauce squeezies and yogurt squeezies. Protein shakes in bottles. Pedialight. Hummus packs.

Danny might still need someone to open the snack packs for him. That’s kind of a high dexterity food, if he thinks about it.

“If you wish to sitta here, we will visit you all you like. There is a belle at your bed,” Diana says, and walks in with all her purple scrubs and tied-up hair to point to a little button on his nightstand. It’s red. It’s got a little smiley face sticker next to it, and Danny thinks he recognizes the style from one of his nurse’s bestickered name tags. Belle is probably a direct cognate for bell. He’ll be able to get everyone to come up here if he needs help.

…Okay, that’s kind of nice. To have personal space. He hasn’t had that since… Danny’s eyes squint as he thinks; he rubs an eye. Wait, when had he been squatting under a conference table? Was that a real memory??

Diana is very tall, even in the little space, but when she ducks her head, the gesture makes her a little smaller, a little more manageable for Danny’s lower-than-usual-gaze. Now that he can see her expression, she looks soft, and even uncertain, even though she looks stone and strong on the television when she goes out to fight. “Do you like it?” she asks.

Danny fidgets.

He—does. He likes it a lot. The room doesn’t have any windows, but if Danny moved all his things in here, got used to being able to come and go, and people coming in and out…this space could be just another space. It’s quieter than the medical ward. More peaceful.

…The room is utterly devoid of other people.

(Danny thinks of The Box. Danny thinks of being in The Box.)

(Danny doesn’t like remembering The Box.)

“I am scared,” Danny admits to his twitching thumbs, his fingers itching for a fidget toy or one of his physical therapy tools. Diana’s face immediately drops.

“Why are you scared?”

I’ll be alone Danny wants to say, but he doesn’t know the word for alone and he struggled with phrasing. “No…people here.”

“That is triewe. You would have more dīegolnes here,” Diana agrees, and straightens out of her crouch. “Is that good, or bad?”

It isn’t good and it isn’t bad…? Danny isn’t sure how to phrase it. It’s neither. Being alone is just scary.

“You not hurt me,” Danny tries, knowing he’s missing some connecting word in the middle. He ignores how Diana comes back to kneel beside him, because if he looks at her, he won’t say anything. “Do not.”

“No,” Diana says, from beside and below him, gentle, careful. “We do not.”

No. They don’t. Danny swallows. “Bad…hurt me.” He doesn’t know the word for Earth or planet or even downstairs, so he just meekly points downwards.

Diana stills. It’s like watching Vlad’s Maddie cat spot a bird to hunt down. Danny tries not to feel pinned. “On eorþegearde?” she asks, still light, still gentle. Danny can hear a shadow of steel, though, and he counts himself lucky that she’s never treated him like an enemy. Danny quickly nods. His eyes squeeze shut.

“Who?” Diana asks feather-light.

Danny doesn’t want to tell them what he is. Admitting the name of the agency hunting him itself would be given in.

…But maybe if he doesn’t say the name…and they...and they promised they'd help hide him...

He wants to be right. Danny wants to be right that they're nice, and that they want to help him. Danny wants to be right that they want to protect him. As long as he never, nevernotevernever tells them he's a ghost...

Maybe someone will help him. This time.

“Bad,” Danny repeats, because he genuinely has no idea how to translate?? “Wants…hurts me? For…” WHAT WORDS DOES HE KNOW? Danny gives up and just draws a y-shaped autopsy incision on his chest. It goes down from his collarbones to his belly button.

Diana watches. Her eyes are sharp.

“Do you feel safe with the staff dunstæger in medical?” Diana is quick on the ball with the question and Danny nods quickly—he’s never alone there, and no one’s ever hurt him, and people whose job it is to help people are always coming in and out, and Medical helps them too.

“Good,” Danny whispers. “Talk…talks to me.”

“Ealne weg,” Diana affirms firmly. Whatever that means. “We will cepa you safe.”

You safe and we is all Danny needs to hear. He could probably cry by himself, but Danny wants the comfort anyway; Diana lets Danny take her hands into his, and he lets tears fall into someone else’s grip instead of his own.

*

Bruce is halfway to the monitor room before he feels himself be picked up from underneath the armpits.

Usually finding himself at inappropriate heights involves horseplay from Clark. No one else would be so bold as to actually put their hands on him within the professional setting of the Watchtower—and Bruce has worked very, very hard on maintaining a reputation that keeps the handsier of his fellows at bay.

The culprit is not Clark this time. Bruce finds himself looking downward at Diana’s tearstained face, fury and resignation warring in her expression.

Bruce is careful not to sigh. “Wonder Woman. What is the matter?”

“Someone,” Diana grits out, voice carefully modulated to cut out her own pain, “Hurt my charge.”

On the one hand, the situation with their patient is exactly as Bruce had expected. The circumstance is tragic. The circumstance was predictable.

On the other, Diana's new upset means that Bruce now has more information to work with than ever before.

Bruce can work with this.

“Tell me everything.” Bruce’s voice is just as firm—even held midair like a cat. “I will help you in every way I can.”

[mylight-png]

The "Free Palestine" movement is genocidal. Straight up. It's not just a few select slogans they use or some fringe members.

The very name of the movement is genocidal.

I had a conversation with my former roommates last semester where they refused to understand why "Free Palestine" in and of itself as a statement is a problem.

To them, it's a liberation movement. But the first issue arises when we ask who or what is being liberated.

What, in modern geographical terms, is Palestine? Where is Palestine? Who is the ruling party of Palestine?

Anyone with even a bit of knowledge would realize that this is a trick question. There isn't any country actually called Palestine.

When people refer to Palestinians, they typically talk about the people either in Gaza or the West Bank, which are two separate entities with two separate governments.

So who are we supposed to be freeing? Gaza, which has its own government in the form of Hamas? Or the West Bank, which has the PA as its governing group? (By the way, the PA has this little thing called pay-for-slay I suggest you look into, but that'd be a post for another time.)

The actual term "Palestine" most commonly is used to refer to the entire area of where Israel, Gaza, and the West Bank are located.

Which brings me to my main point. When people call to "Free Palestine" they aren't calling for a two-state solution. Identically to their call for "from the river to the sea", this slogan calls for the complete destruction of Israel.

A lot of people have already spoken on the issue of why "from the river to the sea" is genocidal in nature, so I won't be going too in depth on that. My point is more so that those two phrases are equivalently malevolent in nature.

There's also the people who call themselves "pro-Palestine". If we take into consideration what "Palestine" as a term means, we're left with two interpretations.

First, they just use that instead of "Free Palestine", making their use of it still equivalent for wanting the entirety of Israel gone.

Second, they want Palestine to "win" in the war.

Now, since we've established that there isn't actually a country called Palestine right now, they're either rooting for the PA or Hamas to win.

As I recommended before, it'd be fantastic if you could just take time to read up on what pay-for-slay is. As a quick summary, that's exactly what it sounds like. The PA pays people money for killing Israelis/Jews. (That's the very vague version, since this isn't the point of the post.)

Therefore, you can probably imagine what would happen to Israelis if the PA were to take over Israel (G-d forbid).

If, G-d forbid, Hamas were to take over Israel, we'd end up with a series of atrocities akin to the horrors of Oct 7th. How do I know? Hamas leaders have repeatedly promised to repeat Oct 7th again and again and again.

Both the PA and Hamas have killed their own people for suspected collaboration with Israel, in rather cruel ways. So you can probably imagine what'd happen to Israelis in both scenarios.

I have seen very very few people who align themselves with either phrasing of the movement actually calling for two states, or for any viable solution. (And no, a ceasefire that leaves Hamas in power is not a viable solution. We had a ceasefire until the moment they attacked on Oct 7th.)

(I say "very few" as an allowance that some may exist, but in reality I haven't seen any.)

If your solution involves the dissolution of Israel and giving power to either the PA or Hamas, congratulations. You are actively backing a genocidal "solution".

And much like a previous "solution", most of the victims of this proposed genocide would be Jewish.

[propertyofwicked]

SECRETS part 3 - LN

lando x fewtrell!reader

no content warnings for this part ! :) (there is more fluff in this part, finally)

p.s i wrote half of this on a train that smelt so bad so if its bad we blame thameslink <3

previous part -> next part

masterlist the playlist

max decided he’d talk to his sister later, right now, he needed to focus on being there for lando. right now, they were sat in the mclaren garage, qualifiers underway and lando doing so well. even y/n started to believe she was a lucky charm. and indeed, lando now believed she was 100% his lucky charm.

the moment his post-qualifying responsibilities ended, he came bounding over to y/n and max, first taking max into what y/n could only describe as a bro hug, ending when he swiftly moved to embrace her, mumbling a chant of ‘thank yous’ in her ear. he caught max in an awkward stare, prompting him to let go of y/n.

“thank me? what for? that was all you lan,” she said, smiling up at him as she moved her arms to cross over her chest.

“thanks to my lucky charm,” he said to both of them, but smirking at y/n, “im starting 2nd on the grid tomorrow. strong start means a strong race,” he finished, still beaming from ear to ear.

“me and y/n are going out for some food in a bit if you wanna join mate,” max said, smiling back at his friend.

“yeah sounds good. ive got to shower, but i’ll swing by and pick you both up from your hotel at 5?”

“perfect, see you there mate.”

the drive back to the hotel was silent, y/n assumed her brother was tired, her brother was in fact thinking. more specifically, thinking about his sister and where she had been the night before. he tried to stop his mind wandering further and yet, images of his sister and best friend infiltrated his thoughts. max’s brain couldn’t stop dwelling on the way lando embraced his sister, how his hands gripped at her waist, and then he thought back to that night in monaco. the way his best friend stood behind y/n, his hands on her waist, her head rolled back onto his shoulder as they danced to the music. before he knew it, the fear and anger he thought had dissipated months ago, was bubbling back inside of him, his hands gripping the steering wheel to ground him from the feeling.

y/n noticed. of course she did. spending 20 years of your life around someone tends to give you the ability to read their every emotion - and this one was one that y/n was not too familiar with. max usually held his anger and sadness well, so the only times she’d seen this was in his earlier driving career when races didn’t go his way. she hoped so desperately he wasn’t angry with her, after all, nothing had happened, and as far as she was aware, nothing would happen.

by the time 5 o’clock came around, max had returned to his normal self, conversing with y/n normally. that’s a good sign, y/n thought to herself. and now, he was chatting to lando as he drove them to a restaurant outside of the town they were staying in. it was all going so well, max was calm, y/n and lando were friends again and nothing could ruin this moment.

“y/n, why is your lip balm in lando’s centre console?”

shit.

“oh i think it fell out the top of my bag when i climbed in the back,” she said panicked, her eyes quickly darting to lando, who was suddenly very interested in the road ahead. max seemed ok with her answer, humming with a quick nod before continuing his conversation with lando. y/n, however, was filled with a new wave of anxiety. why did she feel like this? she hadn’t even done anything? and yet, her mind was now plagued with guilt.

her hands came together, playing with her fingers and twisting her rings around to calm the anxious thoughts, a trait she’d had since childhood. lando glanced at her in his rear view mirror, seeing her facial expressions - her eyebrows furrowed and her mouth falling into a natural frown. he then spotted her hands. he tried to join her into the conversation, tried to distract her, but soon enough they were parked and walking into the restaurant. max chose to sit opposite his sister, leaving lando and y/n pushed together in the booth.

her foot tapped the floor, shaking her whole leg, as the boys talked, y/n chiming in occasionally.

“mum and dad are coming up tonight for the race tomorrow,” lando said to max, but his hand came to brush the side of y/n’s bouncing leg, his finger drawing small circles on her thigh, “they’re staying in your hotel i think.”

“good thing you did well today then isn’t it,” max replied, laughing slightly, “i can drive them to the track tomorrow morning if they want?”

“i’ll ask, im sure they’ll be glad. dad hates driving before my races, gets to nervous and forgets to indicate,” lando responds, joining max in laughing at the thought of adam norris forgetting how to drive.

“i’m just gonna run to the toilet, do either of you want a drink whilst im up?” max asked, pushing his chair back under the table as he stands. y/n nods, asking for another diet coke whilst lando declines, holding up his half full glass.

the moment max disappears from sight, lando takes y/n's hand in his, brushing his thumb up and down the back, her leg slowing its bouncing.

“what’s wrong?” he asks, quietly, sad eyes coming to meet hers.

“my lip balm lando. i don’t want to know the conclusions max will jump to, and i don’t want to be on the receiving end of his anger.”

“it’ll be fine, i promise. he’s got nothing to be angry about, we’ve done nothing wrong.”

“you didn’t see him earlier. i thought he was going to rip the steering wheel off.”

“we’ve done nothing wrong,” he repeats, “besides, you’re a grown woman who makes her own life decisions. fuck it if he has a problem.” y/n nodded in response. he had a point. she was a strong independent woman, she didn’t need her brothers permission to do anything.

for the rest of the evening, she re-joined conversations, feeling a new sense of confidence in herself that she had been lacking all weekend.

-

race day had approached quickly, y/n found herself sat in lando’s drivers room. max and lando’s parents had gone for a walk to grab some food, leaving the two of them alone. lando was pacing, his pre race nerves grew stronger every minute. quite frankly, y/n was sick of it - she sat back on the sofa, her eyes darting back and forth like the audience at a tennis match as she followed lando’s strides back and forth across the small room.

“lan?” she asked him, but he didn’t stop moving, and barely grunted to acknowledge that she’d spoken.

“lando? can you stop pacing? you’re making me dizzy,” she said with a sigh, and he finally came to a stop, and turned to look at her.

“sorry,” he said, smiling at her, as she stood up and walked towards him.

similar to last night, she took both of his hands in hers, pulling them to rest at the top of her chest. her eyes found his, staring directly into them.

“you nervous?”

“how could you tell?” he said, laughing slightly.

“you don’t need to be, you smashed qualis and you’ll smash this. besides, your lucky charm is here to save the day,” y/n said, adding a grin at the end of her sentence. the room fell into silence as he mulled her words over in his head. she was still looking at him, and he tried not to break the eye contact, but his eyes gradually dropped to look at her lips. she was still smiling at him, trying to calm him down the only way y/n knew how to. and she was still smiling at him when he leant down slightly, closing the gap between them even more.

“can i kiss you?” he asked slowly, as if to test the waters, the tension between them rising more than it ever had.

“i think that would be ok,” she said. he didn’t wait to join their lips together finally, pressing a soft kiss to her lips as his hands dropped from hers to fall and grip her waist softly. y/n’s hands moved to rest on the back of his neck, pulling him in closer, his tongue swiping her lower lip as her mouth parted to deepen the kiss.

he could’ve stayed in that moment forever, and he would’ve if a knock hadn’t interrupted the moment - y/n tensed up at the sound.

“lando are you ready? it’s time to get in the car.”

“uhh, yea. just give me a second,” he said, glancing down, first at y/n, panic leaving her shoulders as she established it wasn’t max, and then down to his fireproofs, readjusting the rest of his suit around his waist.

“we need you now, lando,” the voice said again, staying behind the door.

“we’ll continue this later,” he said pressing another kiss to her lips and her forehead, before walking to the door.

she grabbed her phone, her best friend was the only person she could trust to advise her now.

“well done lando, that’s p2,” lando’s race engineer announced through the radio, cheers erupting in the garage. y/n moved to cisca’s embrace, celebrating his win, after spending the entire race on the edge of their seats. the group, consisting of max, y/n and lando’s parents moved round to where lando’s car would pull in, excited to celebrate his podium with him.

when he was finally free from the cockpit, he moved to push his visor up, eyes darting around the crowd in hopes of spotting a familiar face. he spotted his mum first, and then the girl stood next to her. her smile could outshine the sun, he had thought to himself as he made great strides towards the group. lando reached over the low fencing, grabbing his mum into a tight embrace, her hand rubbing up and down his back supportively. when he stepped back and looked to his right, he saw y/n again. still smiling up at him. he would never get tired of seeing her smile.

his hands moved to her face, holding her jaw, eyes staring into hers. she couldn’t see his smile through his helmet, but she knew he was beaming. her own hands had risen to hold the sides of his helmet. he stared for a second longer before moving to pull her into an embrace tighter than his mums.

“my lucky charm,” he said to her, loud enough for a few people around her to hear.

“go get weighed and finish up. ill see you after,” she said as he pulled back, him nodding at her. just as he turned to celebrate with the rest of the team, she pulled him back.

“oh, and lando - im proud of you.” with that he left.

y/n turned to her side, looking at cisca, who was still smiling, an odd glint to her eyes. she then turned behind her, expecting to see her brother. but he wasn’t there.

“adam? where’s max?” she asked the man who had been stood next to max.

“he, um, he just left. didn’t say anything to me. he just kind of, walked off?” lando’s dad responded, looking as confused as she did.

this was not good. in fact, this was very bad.

★ ☆ ✦ ✧ ✩ ✶

tag list: @harrysdimple05 @scopeiguess @hiireadstuff @landosgirlxoxo @natt9598 @phantomxoxo @val-writes @secretgal66 @ririyulife @littlehoneyfreak @leclercdream

[bananayuyu]

Cabin Fever [part 4]

Pairing: Yunho x f reader

Genre: fluff and smut

Word count: 9.9k

Summary: Sometimes actions have consequences for your fragile body, your morning getting off to a sore start. The day thankfully offers you a calm morning, a long-overdue conversation, and a desperate Wooyoung bringing laughter to everyone, in his own special way.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, fingering, voyeurism

A/n: Apologies for how long it took me to post this chapter, I kept editing and rewriting different sections of it because I wanted it to be perfect. I realized recently how much this series means to me, I think because of how much I relate to the main character, and the kind response I've gotten from all of you <3 I'm so glad to be finally posting, and will definitely continue to write the other parts I've planned. I really hope you all enjoy!

Linked here is my masterlist where you can find the previous parts. Again let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist! (it will be six parts in total if everything goes to plan)

Taglist: @certifiedmoa @pautiny27 @luvbit3z @dawn-iscozy @artistic-rendition

@yeosangiess @drinkingrumandcocacola @smally97 @kierraperkins3 @newworldwritings

@peachyy-jooniee @lucid-galaxys-world @arigakittyo @staytinyroha @yoonjikim

You wake in a blurry haze, the early morning light shining gently in through the window. You wonder for a moment if another storm rolled in last night, if the light is so soft because the sky is blanketed in clouds. A quick glance at your phone tells you it's just the light of dawn, the sun not risen enough yet to fully brighten the room. You groan internally, wishing your body let you sleep in after the crazy day you'd just had. You lay awake for a while, eyes still closed, as you hear Yunho's steady deep breaths of sleep. You try to let your mind rest more, but soon you can tell there's no point, your brain desperately chewing through every intense conversation you'd had the day before. As quietly as you can you sit up and scoot yourself off the bed, rubbing your eyes as you walk yourself to the bathroom.

Immediately upon standing you notice the feeling, a slight soreness deep in your core. It almost doesn't feel bad, at least initially, and it makes you giggle to yourself, remembering your previous night. You hadn't expected Yunho to fuck you so hard, and truthfully you loved it. Miraculously your body had been able to take it, maybe even needed it because of the emotionally exhausting day. But you also knew you might pay a bit of a price for it now. You'd certainly joked with people like Ari, or Wooyoung, about being fucked so hard you could still feel it the next morning. And in theory it sounded like the best case scenario, like something everyone would want. But now that you were here it also felt a little concerning, that your muscles were that sore.

You were quiet in the bathroom as well, not wanting to wake anyone in the living room. You carefully clean your thighs, wiping a damp towel over them, and gently brushing it past your core to clean yourself there as well. Immediately the contact feels a bit painful and you wince, frustration bubbling in you as you breathe deeply, taking a moment to let the pain subside. No matter how many times you try to pretend it isn't true, your body always has a way of reminding you how fragile and delicate it is. With a sigh you finish up, tossing the towel in the hamper, then washing your hands. Making your way back to the library, you open and close the door as carefully as possible, gently settling yourself down on the pull out couch that hadn't been used now in days.

You hadn't had a chance the whole trip to crack open your book, and with the chaos of the previous day some calm, focused reading sounds oh so perfect. You grab it out of your bag and begin reading, the sun slowly brightening as the day starts to bloom. Yunho is still sound asleep, his breaths so gentle you almost forget he is there. Eventually your stomach grumbles and you head out to the kitchen, being met with Seonghwa and Hongjoong sipping their first coffees of the day.

If you're entirely honest, it feels a little uncomfortable seeing them, especially Hongjoong. Though you tried the previous night to just move on, to forget what happened, the tension still lingers, especially now that you know so much of why Hongjoong acted the way he did. You aren't sure if he's told Seonghwa anything yet, and you don't want to say anything that could make things awkward between them, so you decide you'll take your breakfast and head outside, hopefully getting to spend a little more peaceful time by yourself. With a quick hug to both of them you head out to the fire pit, your tea in one hand, breakfast in the other, and book tucked precariously under your arm.

It's refreshing sitting outside by yourself, under the shade of the forest trees, your book the only company you have. You normally spend a lot of time alone, so sometimes on these trips you get a bit overwhelmed by everyone. As the sun begins moving across the sky the day gets warmer, Yunho's hoodie now feeling a bit too heavy. You realize you've been wearing it for days now, and probably should change into something else. But you kick that thought aside, relishing the feeling of being in it. You don't entirely understand your own feelings yet, but something about wearing his clothes feels perfectly right.

"Hey, nerd," you hear Yunho say, lifting your head up to see him walking over towards you, his own breakfast in hand.

"Hi," you respond, smiling at him, but returning to your book. You were just nearing the end of a chapter, and you really wanted to finish it.

"You'd rather read then talk to me?" he jokes, plopping down in a chair next to you.

"Just give me like two minutes," you say, eyes still not leaving the page. Yunho just nods and starts wolfing down his breakfast, glancing over at you occasionally to see if you're really that focused. Apparently, you are, which is something he loves so much. As much as he jokes with you, he finds it precious how lost you get in the things you read.

"Ok, we can talk now," you say brightly, sliding your bookmark into the page you just finished. It makes Yunho chuckle, his eyes bright with adoration.

"I wanted to ask you a question," he says, quickly taking another bite.

"Okay," you respond, not sure where he is headed.

"I wanted to see if you felt okay with everything that's been going on, you know, between us. Make sure I haven't crossed any lines," he says.

"Not at all," you say, looking back at him. You seem reluctant to talk much this morning, which isn't like you, and Yunho feels a bit concerned. But he really wants to know where your head is at; he just honestly didn't think he'd be the one to have to bring this up. You were the one who was so good at talking about your feelings, but you hadn't said anything specific about it yet. Well, maybe you did that night you both said 'I love you,' but nothing had been said since.

"So how are you feeling?" he asks.

"Well my vagina hurts, but otherwise pretty good," you laugh, adjusting yourself in your seat to try to alleviate the soreness.

"It hurts?" he asks, with genuine concern.

"Like it's sore, you know, from last night's activities," you say, cringing at yourself. You didn't feel like you couldn't say 'it's sore from you fucking me so hard,' but some part of you wishes you did.

"In a good way? Or bad way?" he asks.

"Um, kind of both?" you respond, not really sure yourself. "I don't hate it but it's, well, worse than ideal. I have to be careful when I sit," you say, trying to keep yourself from laughing again.

"What's so funny?" he asks you, thankful to see you laughing and not grimacing in pain.

"I just never imagined actually having this conversation with somebody," you say, smiling. You appreciate when ridiculous moments happen, and remind you that life doesn't have to be so serious all the time.

"Was I too rough?" he asks, making you giggle again.

"No, I liked it," you say. "I mean, I guess maybe, I just... I haven't really had this happen before," you say, still laughing. "It's probably cause your dick is, um, so big." You turn to see Yunho fighting to keep a smile off his face at your comment, his head turning away from you for a moment.

"Was it just too hard? Or too long?" he asks, making you burst into laughter harder. "I mean, how I fucked you y/n, not my di- ugh," Yunho covers his face, his cheeks reddening some.

"You're being so funny right now," you say. You can't help but find it terribly adorable how awkward he can sometimes be.

"I'm trying to be serious," he says, fixing you momentarily with a stern grimace, which only makes you both laugh harder. After a few moments you both calm down, making eye contact again.

"For real though, I don't want to hurt you. Was I too rough?" he repeats, truly wanting an answer.

"No, you really weren't. I liked it, I liked it a lot. It felt really good. Sometimes, with the way my body is, I have to sacrifice the future days of pain for doing something I really want to do. Sometimes I feel it's worth it. If I spent my life trying to prevent myself from ever feeling pain, I'd never get to do certain things. And obviously I have to be careful how often I do things like that, because usually it means I have to recover for a day or two, or even longer. But I can do it occasionally. I can deal with pain, extremely well," you finish, emphasizing the last two words.

"But I don't want sex with me to cause you pain," he says, eyeing you. "Is that really worth it to you? Aren't there things we could do that wouldn't hurt you?" he asks.

"Well, honestly part of the problem last night was probably that I just like, put your dick inside me without any warm up. Which was on me, I take full responsibility. But like, if you finger me first, it helps the muscles relax. Just doing that probably would have prevented most of this pain," you say.

"Thank you for telling me that," he says, his mind intently focused on every words coming from your lips.

"I liked what happened though, it was very..." you trail off.

"Feral?" he asks, making you laugh yet again. You put your face in your hands remembering everything, especially the way he grabbed you and flipped you over, and the sounds he made in your ear when he finally came.

"Yeah, I liked that," you giggle, face still hidden. You sigh into yourself, basking in the feeling of this conversation. You never thought you'd be having it with Yunho, and you realize that despite everything you couldn't be more comfortable. He knew you so well, and explaining all of this to someone who didn't know you at all would have been ten times more complicated.

"Y/n, I have to tell you something," he suddenly says, his tone completely different. You quickly put your hands down, turning your body in your chair to face him, as he sets his plate down on the ground, turning to face you as well.

"What is it?" you ask, trying to keep yourself from tensing up.

"I- I don't really know how to say this, I'm sorry if I start rambling. I just, I just need to say this, even though I think you already know, but in case it isn't clear. I-" he takes in a shaky breath, quickly letting it out. "I love you, obviously, I have for many years. But I'm also in love with you, and I don't know if you realized that. That's why certain things just keep coming out of my mouth, when we're having sex, and I'm sorry if it's weird. It doesn't seem to bother you but, I know we hadn't talked about it. I like calling you baby, it feels right, but if you want me to stop, or you want any of this thing, between us, to stop, you just say the word. I don't want anything that I ever do, or say, to make your life worse. You already deal with so much shit all of the time, and it would be my worst nightmare to know that I'm adding to that." Out of nowhere you feel a tear hit your cheek, quickly followed by one hitting your bare thigh. Yunho is staring at the ground between you, not able to stomach seeing your reactions in real time. "Above all I love you, and I want you to be happy, and even if tomorrow you tell me you never want to sleep with me ever again, I'd still love you, I'd still want to live with you and be your friend. I'm serious, I mean that. I would not hold it against you, I would not make things awkward. I don't feel like you owe me anything, at all. But you should also know if you want me to be more than a friend to you, I would gladly oblige. I know I should have probably told you this before we started having sex, but..." finally he trails off, looking up at you.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," he says seeing your tears, thinking he's upset you.

"No, don't apologize," you squeak out, trying to get ahold of your breathing.

"What's wrong?" he asks, coming to kneel next to you, taking your hands in his.

"I- I don't know," you croak, tears still streaming down your cheeks. You truly don't know why you suddenly burst into tears, after having such a calm morning. What Yunho said was sweet, unbelievably so. Your head spins, all the conversations from yesterday again playing through your head, like twenty radios going at the same time. It's incredibly overwhelming when your brain does this, and you grab your ears momentarily to try to make it stop. Yunho wipes the tears from your cheeks, sitting patiently as you calm yourself, as you finally wipe what you think are the last of the tears with the sleeves of his hoodie.

And when you finally look up you're met with big brown eyes that feel like they're looking into the depths of your soul, making your heart ache with a feeling so intense you can't name it. Suddenly the world slows, everything stops. It's just him and you, in this vast forest, and everything feels alright, like it's meant to be. Suddenly you're not feeling your sticky sweaty skin under the hoodie, or the ache in your core. You can't feel any of it when sat in front of you is your favorite person in the entire world. It hits you like a train, that realization. You'd never get over how kind he was to spend nights in the hospital with you, when you were so out of it you hardly remembered a thing. You could have said anything; you knew you acted strange when you were there. But still he was there for you, still he treated you the same. This beautiful, tall, talented man who could have been doing anything he wanted with his life. You could imagine doing everything with him, imagine living with him forever. You couldn't trust him more or respect him more if you tried. You realized the myriad dialogues playing out in your head had gone away, left with only one; a part of you, screaming at the top of her little lungs, 'how did it take you this long to realize?!'

"I'm-I'm so sorry I didn't see it sooner," you stutter, leaning down to hug him, to hold him tight. You have so much you want to say to him, but it's hard to get words out with how overwhelmed you feel.

"Shh, it's okay," Yunho comforts you, holding your head in the crook of his neck.

"I love you too," you say, struggling to find the right words. "I mean, more than platonically, I love you. I'm sorry it took me this long to realize it."

"I thought, maybe, that was the case," he says, chuckling into your hair.

"So even you figured that out before I did?" you ask, huffing out a laugh.

"What do you mean, even me?" he responds. You sit up to look at him again, putting your hands on his shoulders.

"Literally all of our friends knew we liked each other before I did," you say, like it's groundbreaking news.

"Does that surprise you?" he asks, incredulous.

"Well, yeah," you respond.

"They always do that though, don't they? I mean we all knew Hongjoong and Seonghwa liked each other since forever ago, it was just a thing. Sometimes I feel like they know me better than I know myself." You nod in response. It was definitely true with your friend group, time and time again.

"But Yunho, if you thought I liked you why didn't you ask me about it earlier?" you ask.

"I didn't want to put you in an awkward spot," he says, stroking his hand comfortingly down your arm.

"But, wait, how long have you suspected I like you?" you ask.

"Um, a while," he says, trying to think. "I don't remember exactly, but probably the last year or so."

"Year??" you ask, genuinely shocked. "How- what made you think that?"

"The way you are with me, when you're sick. I don't think you realize the things you say..." he trails off, grabbing your hands in his again.

"Oh god, what have I said to you?" you groan, trying to look away.

"It's nothing embarrassing, I swear. You just become so clingy with me, in a different way than you are with Seonghwa. Like, in a literal sense, not wanting me to let you go. You've asked me to sleep in your hospital bed before, and nurses have to kindly ask me to move so I'm not in the way. You will sometimes cry about how worried you are that I'll leave you, in a way that made it feel like we were already together. One time you said you were scared I'd stop loving you because of how sick you were. You'll profess your love for me, beg me to stay with you forever. Things like that."

"That sounds intense," you say, imagining it from his perspective. You shudder at the thought, a part of you feeling sick at how overwhelming it must be to care for someone like you.

"Well, yeah," he responds.

"I'm sor-"

"No. Don't do that." He grabs you tightly again, wrapping you in his arms. "I'm grateful for it all. I'm just so glad we finally talked about this. I'll always love you, no matter what happens. I want you to always remember that."

You nod into his shoulder, squeezing him tightly, just as you hear some foot steps approaching.

"Hi guys, I'm sorry to interrupt," Ari starts, speaking gently. You both break apart to give her your attention. "Can I borrow a pad, or a tampon or something?" she asks you, fidgeting. "I don't know why, but my period started today when it wasn't supposed to till like, next Tuesday."

"Oh my god, of course," you say immediately. "They should just be in my bag, easy to find. Feel free to grab whatever you need. Oh and my Tylenol, it might be in the bathroom if it's not in my bag."

"Thank you so much, you're a life saver," she says over her shoulder as she heads back in quickly, nearly breaking into a run. This cabin is messing with our hormones, you think. At first the thought amuses you, but then it feels scary too. Because what if everything that had happened between you and Yunho here, wouldn't feel the same back home? What if your feelings would change? It had taken the chaotic events of this trip to bring them to the surface, and would the monotony and business of real life bury them again?

There's also the possibility that it was inevitable, that all along this was going to happen. It certainly seems that everyone else thinks that, and that offers you some reassurance. But you can't help your own doubts, and your intense fear of what this means. It's all finally in the open, your feelings at least. But will you actually date? There is so much to discuss, and although he knows a lot, Yunho doesn't know the full of extent of your health issues. How much it can affect you, randomly for weeks or even months, how your sex drive changes, your moods change, your likes and dislikes even, if complicated medical issues are happening. You know you're bound to be pissed at him, to not want his attentions sometimes. You know he's bound to be way busier than you; which could be a good thing, you remind yourself. But if spending less time together feels almost relieving in a way, then is dating really the right thing to do? Maybe relationships with other people in general aren't really something you're built for. It's not like you've made many friends since high school, and the ones you have are almost exclusively online. You feel your soreness again, like a stabbing reminder of how messed up your body is.

"What are you thinking about?" Yunho asks you, cutting off your train of thought. It takes you a few moments, but you manage to collect your thoughts.

"Do do you realize how sick I am?" you ask, your voice small.

"What do you mean?" The look he gives you is one of genuine care. It makes your heart flutter.

"I- just- I don't know what this is going to be going forward, but like, I can't date someone in the normal way. No, that's not a good way of putting it," you sigh into your hands. Gathering yourself you start again. "Dating me isn't even like dating someone with a diagnosed disease or disability. My health issues are ever changing, and none of them have been truly figured out. Obviously I've fainted since I was young, but sometimes I go through periods where I barely do at all, and then other times it's super frequent. Sometimes I randomly develop an allergy to a new food, and I have to basically obsessively read through every item I buy at the grocery store to make sure I'm not accidentally injesting it. There was a time, three years ago, when I had no desire for anything sexual for like, half a year. My periods were so bad, and everything down there just always felt weird and it hurt, and I literally thought I might never feel horny ever again. These things just, happen, and there's no way for me to predict them. And it would mean that, being with me, would be different," you finish, with a huge sigh.

"I know all of that already," Yunho says, sighing himself.

"But, so- what do you want to happen?" you ask, finally getting to crux of what you wanted to know.

"Whatever you want," he says.

"That's not true, that can't be," you say, feeling dubious. "There must be something specific that you want."

"I want to date you," he says. "But I knew you might not want that, because of everything you have going on. So whatever you're willing to do, I'm in."

"Yunho," you sigh, frustrated. Frustrated because those words feel too good to be true, and as much as you trust him in so many ways, a part of you still wants to run away in doubt. It's a huge deal, trusting someone with this part of you, and it's just hit you now that you've been sleeping with him, in more ways than one, and you haven't batted an eye. If he ever did something, in any scenario but especially a sexual one, that hurt you, it would be so hard to recover. Things had happened in the past to make you understand that. You were so determined to never let those things happen again, that you'd basically stopped dating or even thinking about it. You could physically please yourself, and have your friendships to give you companionship. You'd never felt very centered on romantic relationships anyway. You had so written off the possibility of developing another romantic relationship that you'd stumbled into one without much of a thought. It made you feel so stupid, so immature. It was hard not to scream at yourself internally.

"What do you want to happen?" he asks you, placing a hand on your knee comfortingly.

"I- I don't want to lose you," you say, sighing into yourself. "And I don't want to get hurt. I don't want- I- I don't know."

"I won't hurt you," he says, squeezing your knee.

"I know you'd never intend to, but you can't guarantee that," you say. "And I can't guarantee I won't hurt you, either."

"Isn't it still worth it?" he asks.

"It depends what we decide to do," you say, eyes soft.

"I love you," he says again. It's all he can think to say right now, seeing how much you seem to be spiraling. And it works; it brings you back down into your body, into the chair you're sitting on. Suddenly you feel heavy, like the weight of all of your thoughts crashed down on you in an instant.

"I love you too," you say, nearly tearing up again. "This got way too serious and heavy," you say, trying to shake loose the dread starting to fill your veins.

"Why don't we do something fun today, then?" he asks.

"Like what?" you ask, nodding your head.

"Do you want to go to the falls, just the two of us? I felt bad you couldn't really join in the other day when we all went. If you feel up to it," he says.

"That sounds perfect," you reply, smiling at him. You're thankful he seems okay leaving the conversation where it was. You could feel yourself coming undone a bit, your thoughts running out of control, and you knew there was truly no use in continuing. You needed to reset, to calm down, and Yunho's suggestion seemed like just the thing to make you feel right again.

***

Inside you both change into your swimsuits, grabbing towels and water and snacks for your journey. Yunho liberally applies sunscreen to your body, obviously enjoying the proximity, but also genuinely wanting to protect your skin. You burn extremely easily, and sunburns always make you feel exhausted for days.

"Everyone, the two of us are going to the falls," he announces to the room as you head towards the back door. "Follow at your own risk. Consider this your official warning," he says, eyeing everyone, making you giggle at the implication. He hopes they know what he means.

You take the walk slowly, again picking flowers from the path and putting them in his hair. It's hard for you to resist your little habit, given just how beautiful the landscape is out here. You love the wilderness, but your friends and family and life are in the city, so you cherish your moments out in nature when you can. Especially when you get to place flowers in Yunho's shaggy hair, that you absolutely love. You still haven't told him that, and it gnaws at you now that things are different between you. It wasn't something you would have necessarily thought to tell him before. You generally avoided having strong opinions about others' appearances because you just didn't feel it was your place. But your opinions about his clothes, his hair, had always been a bit stronger. You'd certainly noticed it from time to time, that you reacted when he borrowed his dad's suit for a wedding, or when he'd cut his hair a certain way. Maybe a part of you felt awkward about telling him that, in a way you wouldn't about any of your other friends. You'd justified to yourself that you never said anything because he didn't care about those things either, so you didn't need to say it. But now you realized, maybe it was because you felt nervous. Because there were lingering feelings there that you weren't really aware of.

"I really like your hair right now," you blurt out, not wanting to wait any longer. You were done being distant from your feelings, not understanding them when it came to him. It was too important to you now.

"Oh, really?" he asks you, turning to you with a smile as you near the lake. "The other day my mom said I desperately need a haircut," he laughs.

"No, I like it long like this," you say, admiring your work. You know the flowers will disappear as soon as he dives in the falls, but for now they're beautiful.

"Then I'm keeping it," he says, sighing contentedly as you finally reach your destination.

The falls are beautiful today, the sky bright and blue reflected in the sparkly clear water. You set your things down on a smooth rock, far enough from the edge that they won't fall in. Quickly Yunho dives in, and you follow after him much more carefully, gently lowering yourself into the wonderfully chilly water. The temperature is a welcome pairing with the heat of the day, and you sigh, taking a deep breath before finally dunking your head under. You swim out towards the actual waterfall, breathing in the mist that forms at the bottom, the sound nearly deafening when you're so close. But it feels electric; moments like these always do, when your body is well enough for you to be out experiencing something intoxicating and brilliant. Yunho sidles up beside you, pulling you with him as he ducks through the water to come behind the fall. Behind there is a small cave, invisible to the outside world, with light bouncing across the ceiling as water droplets skip along the surface, finding their final resting place after their journey over the cliff.

Yunho's hands are on you quickly, as you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders. He's holding you up, making it so you don't have to do any work, so that you can just breathe deep and enjoy the peace of the cave. In the water your bodies move slowly, sensually, and it makes you want to touch him as closely as you can. His wet hair sticks to his forehead, water beading down his face and shoulders. The gentle light dances across his face, and the steady sound from the falling water is almost hypnotizing. Your lips are on his before you know it, and it feels just right to open your mouth as he sucks on your bottom lip, letting out a soft moan. His hands are groping you, holding you up by your ass, snaking underneath your bikini bottoms. In here it truly feels like only you and him exist, and you release into that feeling, into the realization of just how strong your feelings for him are. You keep kissing him, small pecks of love, running your fingers through his hair and brushing it out of his face. You tug on it gently, not knowing if he likes that but so intoxicated by the pleasure you're feeling. Yunho groans, making you tug harder, your breathing speeding up from his reaction.

"I wanna fuck you out here," he says over the rushing water, his lips swollen from the kiss. You groan, grinding your hips into his as you lick across his lower lip, coaxing his mouth open again. Your tongues swipe over each other, you both incredibly hungry for more.

"Follow me," he says, starting to make his way back out of the cave. The bright sun feels shocking for a moment when you exit the dimness of the cave, but it feels wonderful. Like you've been transported back to literal paradise. You follow behind him as he swims towards the muddy bank of the lake, the part that boarders a bunch of trees and is relatively shady. When you arrive he lifts you up, sitting you down on the side of the lake where he can reach you.

His lips are back on yours in moments, his hands now able to explore the entirety of your bikini, snaking underneath your top to feel your chest, rubbing his thumbs enticingly over your nipples that are already hard from the cool water. A gentle breeze blows through the woods, making your wet skin feel cold. Your body shivers, from the breeze and from Yunho's touch, and you sigh in pleasure.

"Can I take this off?" Yunho asks as he tugs at your bikini, and you nod, starting to help him remove it. "Wait," he stops you, just for a moment. "You don't really answer me, when we're having sex. Do you like being so non-verbal?"

You just nod in response, showing him just how much it's true.

"Do you like me telling you what to do? Or do you want me to ask?" he continues.

"Either," you say, managing one word.

"And you'd tell me if you didn't like something?" he asks.

"Of course," you answer, feeling it's important. "I just don't like having to talk too much."

"I understand," Yunho nods, taking in your answer. He actually finds it incredibly hot, but again, it's not really something you've fully talked through yet. He so badly wants to know that he isn't hurting you, ever.

"Take this off then," he says, gently tugging on your bikini before pulling back from you. You throw it on the bank behind you, and it falls between two flowers in the grass.

Your feet sink into the mud as he pulls your legs again towards him, gently pushing them open. With your arms behind you, and bare chest to the sky, your naked body is on full display. Yunho's hands trace over the entirety of you, his legs still in the water as he kneels down, bringing himself closer to your center. He eyes your cunt hungrily, and it makes you throb, just how much his demeanor changes when he's finally truly in control. Your whole body buzzes from your surroundings, from the knowledge that you're in the wide open air and anyone could see.

"You like being naked in the forest, don't you," he says, seeing the way you so freely tossed your clothing, how comfortably you bore yourself to the world. You blush and giggle, soaking in the smells of the forest and grass behind you.

Yunho's hands slink down your thighs, finally coming to gently brush over your slit, when you jolt back in pain. The wimper that escapes you is pathetic, the realization of just how sensitive your pussy still is hitting you. It makes you upset, almost irrationally so.

"What's wrong baby?" he asks, immediately coming to comfortingly stroke your cheek.

"She hurts," you pout, looking down.

"Does she need a break today?" he asks.

"I guess," you say, frowning dramatically.

"That's okay baby, you don't need to be upset," he says, pulling you into a hug.

"But I want to do stuff," you whine into his shoulder.

"If your body needs a break, then we should give it a break," he says logically, making you roll your eyes. You feel petulant, and just want this time at the falls to be perfect.

"Is there anything that would help her feel better?" he asks, stroking a hand down your back.

"You could massage her," you say, smiling into him.

"What do you mean? Inside or outside?" he asks. You know it doesn't really make sense, the idea of massaging a pussy. But it makes sense to you.

"Just outside like, real gentle," you say, your voice small.

Yunho pulls back, gently bringing his hand down to your slit again. You inhale sharply at the initial contact, your body reacting without your control. But soon his methodical, slow movements up and down start to feel good. You body finally relaxes into it, your head dropping back as you soak in the warmth of the air. Yunho continues moving his fingers up and down, over and over brushing gently over your clit when he reaches the apex of his movements. The pleasure grows steadily each time and soon you're moaning softly, dropping to your elbows and spreading your legs even wider as your body starts to revel in the feeling.

"Does it feel good baby?" he asks you, and you nod your head, whining in response. He moves his thumb up to focus on your clit, gathering the wetness from your entrance and spreading it around. He adds more pressure to his small circular movements, the focus making your clit feel hot and sensitive. Waves of pleasure run down your legs and race up your abdomen, making your body feel sizzling hot in the summer air. You arch your back further, pushing yourself harder into his fingers, chasing the pleasure.

"You want more?" he asks, making you mewl in response. "I know you can take more baby, even if you're sore. Relax your pussy for me," he says before lining up his other hand, gently gathering more of your wetness on his middle finger before pushing it inside of you. You gasp instantaneously, again wincing at the initial pain. But with his other hand working your clit the pain quickly leaves you, your insides feeling like they're melting from the pleasure. His long fingers feel like they reach all the way inside of you, all the way into your guts, and it feels electric. Your breathing is ragged, your awareness no where else but your core and his fingers. "Good, you're so relaxed for me. I knew you could take it," he says, slowly pumping his finger in and out, focusing on putting pressure on that spongy sensitive spot that feels the best. "That feels good, doesn't it?" he asks, and you moan in response, almost whimpering. It makes blood rush to his cock seeing you so engrossed in how good you feel, the way you can so fully submit to him and your body and all the pleasure it gives you. "You need more," he says, no longer asking. He adds another finger, careful at first to not stretch you painfully fast. Once he can tell your body is ready for it he pumps faster, still focused on adding pressure in the right places.

Your moans are higher pitched now, your clit feeling red hot with pleasure. Your pussy is still sore but it feels so good, his movements mimicking the night before but not as rough, your body remembering everything that had transpired between the two of you the past few days. It's like everything with him; it builds, slowly, and suddenly you realize it's the best feeling in the world having him in control like this, able to read your body perfectly. A true dream come true, and it makes your head fuzzy with desire as you realize just how much you like it when he touches you all over, when he takes you out to a lake in the wide open air and touches you where anyone could see. Your careful, boring life would never have anyone suspect you like this and yet he could see, he knew. It almost feels fated that you went down this path, not knowing for so long what your true feelings were. Truly, how could this get any bett-

"Baby, stop thinking," Yunho says, bringing you back to him. And in a moment you're coming, the feeling ripping through you from your clit, making your whole body tingly with warmth and pleasure. The tightening muscles of your core are sore, but still clamp down around Yunho's fingers as you ride it out, your hips rolling to meet his movements. "Good girl, good girl," he repeats in your ear, or at least it feels like he's whispering into your ear, your eyes closed and taking in every sound so vividly. You finally lay fully flat on your back, riding out the last of your orgasm, your body limp and relaxed against the dirt and grass on the bank. Finally you blink open to look at him, seeing the blown pupils you love so much, taking his hand off your clit with a small 'too much.' He smiles at you, stroking that hand across your stomach and leaning down to kiss you, hungrily coaxing your mouth open and then pulling back to suck on your bottom lip.

***

And unbeknownst to both of you, Wooyoung watched on from behind a tree, his hand down his pants as he palms his painfully hard cock, trying to offer himself some relief. He understood Yunho's implication a mile away, and after spending a long time coming up with a good excuse, trekked his way up the hill to find you two. He really was getting incessantly horny on this trip, which wasn't completely out of the ordinary given his typical predisposition to horniness. But something on this trip especially, the amount of sex happening around him, made him feel insatiable.

As he crested the small hill before the lake he saw you two immediately, saw Yunho's hands under your bathing suit and your head thrown back in pleasure, the perfect curve of Yunho's back as he leaned into you, his hands possessively roaming. Wooyoung felt himself getting hard immediately, especially as he snuck around to between the trees, the threat of being caught adding to the arousal pooling in his pants. He saw you two talking, saw some exchange happen. And then your were stripping off your bikini, throwing it behind you, and your naked body was bare to the sky. He'd told you a million times how hot you were, and you usually laughed it off; but he truly meant it. Though he couldn't hear any of the words between you he could sense your submission and the way Yunho was taking control, the way he comforted you when you seemed to be in pain, and the way he reached down again and touched you differently. Wooyoung wished he could experience Yunho's domination, how kind and gentle it was. It wasn't his usual style, not what he usually wanted. But something about seeing the two of you together made him ever so slightly jealous; it made him think of the woman he was now involved with, how he missed her hands on him.

His hand provided him some pleasure but it just wasn't enough, just couldn't satisfy him the way he needed. His dick was hard and leaking in his shorts, and the longer he watched he just didn't care anymore; he pushed them down, his movements becoming more erratic as he chased his pleasure, not caring when he heard some twigs snap under his foot. The pleasure was good, so good, but he knew it couldn't be enough for him. Did he just watch you come? God he needed the feel of someone else, the intensity of fucking another person. He needed a better look at you, needed to see all that he could, so he stepped beside the tree, a larger branch snapping under his weight and echoing against the cliff, making Yunho's head snap up.

"Wooyoung, Jesus Christ," Yunho laughed, lifting himself off of you and helping you sit up, his two fingers still inside you.

"Oh my god, Woo," you laughed too, seeing his boner even all these feet away. It made you feel good, your core clenching a moment as your realized he'd been watching.

"Sorry, I-" Wooyoung sputtered, not sure what to say. Desperately he pulled up his shorts, his cock creating an obvious tent in the material. You both keep laughing, looking over at his pathetic face, his cheeks red from being caught. Painfully, it turned him on even more, the way you both were laughing at him. "This isn't fair," he whined, trying to look away from your naked bodies.

"What do you mean?" you asked him, still laughing.

"I'm fucking horny," he whined again, his tone still pitiful, but the smirk on his face betrayed just how much he was loving this. "And you guys just keep laughing at me; I'm not even trying to be funny."

"What are you trying to do then?" Yunho asked, eyeing him.

"I-" he started, stopping himself.

"Woo, just say it," you giggled, loving every moment of seeing Wooyoung like this.

"I'm trying to- I need someone to fuck me," he blurted out, finally.

"And you're hoping it'll be me?" you jokingly batted your eyelashes at him, making his head feel fuzzy. "Or, him?" you asked, pointing at Yunho.

"Either of you, I don't care," Woo responded, his whole body flushed with how turned on he was.

"You don't prefer me?" you asked, acting like you were hurt.

"Y/n," Wooyoung groaned, his hand coming put to cover his face. "I know you're fucking with me," he sighed, trying to collect himself.

"Yeah, stop messing with poor horny Wooyoung," Yunho laughed, his hand still inside you. He liked feeling the way your pussy clenched as you teased Wooyoung; you clearly loved doing it, and he filed that thought away for later.

"You both suck," Wooyoung groaned, carefully untangling his shoe from the broken branch, making his way back towards the trail.

"Woo, maybe just ask someone instead of sneaking up on them," Yunho called, his tone light as he chuckled. Neither of you really minded his intrusion, it just probably wasn't the way he was going to succeed at his little mission.

Tumbling down the trail Wooyoung almost broke into a run, adrenaline from the conversation he'd just finished coursing through him. As he neared the cabin he tried to slow down, steadying his breaths as he spotted Mingi shooting hoops by himself, shirtless and no doubt sweaty in the afternoon heat. Taking Yunho's advice he decided to play it as cool as he could, approaching Mingi with a clear goal instead of messily stumbling up a mountain in a pure horny haze.

"Mingi!" he called out, making his way over towards the court.

"Hey Woo," Mingi replied, passing him the basketball. Wooyoung wound up, missing the basket completely, the ball bouncing away into the grass.

"You really are terrible at shooting," Mingi laughed, jogging over to pick up the ball.

"Not nice," Wooyoung pouted, his arms crossing over his chest. "I'm very good at plenty of other things," he stated, jutting out a hip.

"Oh, sure you are," Mingi joked. You weren't the only one who enjoyed messing with Wooyoung; in fact, it was kind of a default setting for most of you. It was just too fun, seeing him get all flustered and bothered in the way that he did. The crazy thing was Mingi hadn't even seen Woo's shorts yet, too focused on retrieving the basketball a moment ago.

"I am," Wooyoung fixed Mingi with a steely gaze, just as Mingi wound up for a shot. The ball bounced off the backboard, headed straight for Wooyoung, but he didn't even bother catching it as he continued to stare Mingi down.

"Woo, what are you- oh my god," Mingi laughed, finally seeing the tent in his shorts. "Did I do that?" he joked, pointing. Wooyoung's face grew pink again, that feeling of being caught doing something bad returning in full force.

"Well, yeah," Woo responded, snaking his eyes down Mingi's entire body. "You're out here playing basketball shirtless, how was I supposed to react?"

Mingi smiled and laughed, honestly flattered by Woo's admission. "So you had an anterior motive, you didn't actually want to play with me?" he asked, jogging to the back of the court to pick up the ball Woo had let go.

"Mingi, I'm horny," Wooyoung groaned, eyeing him pathetically.

"I'm shocked," Mingi responded, laughing again.

"Mingi," Woo groaned again. "I need someone to help me, to, take care of it," he mumbled, his body tingling with embarrassment.

"Just go jack off, if it's that bad," Mingi replied, shooting the basketball again. It was all so casual to him, this conversation not affecting him the way Wooyoung hoped. Well, that was a failed attempt. Grumbling something incoherent Wooyoung walked away, heading towards the back of the house until he spotted Seonghwa and Hongjoong out by the trees, laying together in the grass. He walked his way over, determined to play it right this time.

"Hi guys," he said brightly, finally coming upon them to see Hongjoong on top of Seonghwa, their lips pressed together in a deep kiss. They were more tangled together than Wooyoung realized, and he braced for the response.

"Oh my god, Woo, you fucking scared me," Hongjoong sputtered, lifting himself enough to look at him. "What's up?" he asked, confused by the sudden interruption.

"How- how are you guys, doing?" Wooyoung asked hesitantly, trying to tread lightly.

"Um, good. We're kind of in the middle of something," Hongjoong replied, Seonghwa holding back a laugh underneath him.

"I know, I- um-" Woo stuttered, not able to come out with it.

"Woo, is something wrong?" Hongjoong asked, getting annoyed.

"No, I'm-"

"Okay then what are you doing! We're clearly in the middle of something!" he nearly yelled, his dick hard in his pants and frustrated with the lack of action he was getting. Wooyoung pouted, the sharp sound of Hongjoong's voice penetrating through him. He liked being yelled at like that.

"He probably wants to join us," Seonghwa laughed, his body still lax against the grass.

"Oh, I should have guessed," Hongjoong replied, laughing too. A moment lapsed, the two of them giggling into each other, before their faces came close again. But just before they could kiss again Seonghwa held his hand against Hongjoong's shoulder, stopping him.

"Woo, seriously, we want to spend some quality time just the two of us," Seonghwa said, his voice gentle but his demand clear.

"God, all of you suck," Wooyoung huffed before turning on his heel, stalking his way back towards the cabin. He now had his sights set on the bathroom, his needs growing too severely now for him to keep wasting time hoping that one of you would join him. It was time to deal with this himself, even if it wouldn't compare to what he really wanted.

When he busted through the door he didn't even consider acting normal for everyone; his desperation was too severe. Ari noticed his strange demeanor right away, pulling him aside in the hallway.

"What's wrong?" he asked, her voice soft.

"Nothing, nothing," Wooyoung replied, trying not to be driven crazy by how attentive she was being. God, he really just needed to lock himself in that bathroom and get this shit over with.

"Woo, clearly it's something," she said eyeing his crotch, wracking her brain for what exactly it could be.

"I really shouldn't have worn these damn shorts," Woo sighed, shaking his head at just how poor his choice was. They truly were the worst, the thin grey material leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. "Sorry, I'm just so horny right now and no one I asked was willing to, uh, sleep with me," he laughed. Saying it out loud made him realize how silly it all was, some of his tension melting away.

"Woo, I-" Ari looked over to San, seeing him engrossed in a conversation with Yeosang and Jongho. "Give me a sec, stay right here," she said before grabbing San, pulling him into their shared bedroom for a quick conversation. Soon she had returned, Wooyoung waiting patiently with his hands covering his crotch as he tried to act as normal as possible.

"Woo, come with me," Ari beckoned, holding out her hand. He grabbed it, following diligently towards the master bedroom. Once inside Ari sat him on a chair, her and San facing him while they sat on their bed.

"Woo, you seem very in need, and well, we're offering to help you," Ari started, not a single awkward pause tainting her sentence.

"Wait, really?" Woo asked looking between the two of them, absolutely shocked. They were the last people he'd ever have thought would be open to this, mostly because he'd never even met San and had no way of knowing what sort of thing he was into. But even Ari, she'd never seemed like the kind of person who'd want to share.

"Yes really. We can, tonight, if you want to," she finished, San nodding along. They'd actually discussed this possibility of this exact scenario about a month before, both laughing at the time about how unlikely it was to really happen. But they both found Wooyoung attractive, and decided they wouldn't rule out the idea of messing around with him together. At that time San had only seen pictures and spoken to Woo on the phone a few times; still, his interest was piqued.

"I-" Woo stuttered again, his words failing him badly with how fuzzy his head had felt for nearly the entire afternoon. "I don't know if, if my girlfriend will like it," he suddenly blurted out, surprising everyone, including himself.

"You have a girlfriend?" Ari asked.

"Yeah, that woman Mingi told you guys about, that choreographer," he responded.

"So things are really that serious, between you two?" Ari asked, so curious. There was no judgement in her tone, this was just truly a bit out of character for Wooyoung.

"We haven't discussed it yet," Woo replied, his own eyes still wide.

"Why didn't you invite her to come along?" San asked him, smiling at how genuine Woo's surprise clearly was.

"I- I didn't even think to," Wooyoung sighed, shaking his head.

"You should text her, we've still got a few days. And aren't your cousins leaving tomorrow morning? That'll free up some space on the couches," Ari said, smiling genuinely at Wooyoung.

"Fuck, I should," Woo smiled, the corners of his lips turning up ever so slightly. "I'm sorry guys, I hope I'm not making you feel rejected or anything, by saying no. I'd gladly fuck both of you, any day," he finished, making them both laugh.

"Don't apologize Woo, it's no big deal. Go, go text her," Ari responded, shooing Wooyoung out of the room. It was honestly so adorable how genuine Wooyoung was being, so careful with this woman's feelings, and it made Ari so happy to see her friend experiencing what all of you had wanted for him for so long.

***

The day pulled to an end, the sun starting to fall beyond the tree line, covering the sky in a beautiful subtle shade of orange. S'mores were on the menu tonight, the whole group of you gathered around the fire pit as Yunho and Mingi stoked the fire, their faces lit up with the brilliant light of the flames. You sat wrapped up in Yunho's hoodie again, yawning hard as you shivered in the cold air of the night. Earlier, when you'd finally made it back to the cabin, you'd realized your skin was burnt, and it only took a few hours for the exhaustion to start setting in. So much for trying to be careful, you thought. But it really was worth it today, getting to spend all that time alone with Yunho.

"How was everyone's day?" Ari asks from San's lap, a blanket wrapped around the two of them.

"So good," you smile at her, and she waggled her eyebrows at you, making you laugh. "I wish I could go to that waterfall, like, every weekend," you say, a murmur of agreement passing through the group.

"I'm sure Wooyoung wishes you could do that too," Yunho adds, looking over at Wooyoung with a smirk.

"Do tell," Ari prompts him, seeing clearly he has a story to share.

"Well, Woo came and interrupted me and y/n while we were, you know, in the middle of the things out by the lake. It was funny," he laughs, smiling at you.

"He did the same to us," Hongjoong responds, making both you and Yunho's eyebrows jump up.

"Woo I told you not to sneak up on anyone else," Yunho chastises him, laughing harder.

"Damn Woo, you really asked everyone today," Mingi laughs, smirking.

"You all are such cunts," Wooyoung responds, fighting back the laughter himself. "You just keep rubbing it in my damn face how you're having sex every goddamn day we're here."

"I haven't been," Mingi retorts, earning an eye roll form Wooyoung.

"Okay well you're rubbing it in my face how perfect your body is, so yeah, you still qualify as a cunt," Wooyoung responds.

"Did you text your girlfriend Woo?" Ari asks.

"Girlfriend?" you ask, looking at him expectantly.

"Yes, girlfriend. And yes I did; she said she has to check her schedule but she's probably coming tomorrow," Woo responds, looking almost nervous.

"Oh my god Woo, this is so exciting!" Ari responds.

"Wait, are you two like, together together? Officially?" you ask. Woo nods, that shy smile not leaving his lips.

"Look at him, he's growing up," Seonghwa sighs, making you all laugh. There is a palpable relief washing through the group, at seeing Wooyoung willing to explore a relationship again after swearing everything about love off so long ago. High school relationships can be so scarring, and a big part of you felt so thankful you never even considered dating at that age, despite at the time feeling like you were missing out on something to integral to growing up.

"And what's the deal with you two?" Ari eyes you and Yuho, smiling at the way your eyes can't even meet hers.

"We haven't talked about it yet, we'll tell you guys in our own time," Yunho responds, not angry by any means but firm enough to shut down the line of inquiry.

"Things are good," you add, seeing the curious looks of everyone.

"Your boyfriend is really cool, by the way," Jongho says to Ari, earning a small chorus of 'so true' and 'I agree' from the group.

"Thank you, that's so nice to hear," Ari responds, snuggling closer in San's lap. "You always worry what people will think of your boyfriend, especially your favorite people."

"He seems basically perfect," you say, Ari's face lighting up with a smile. San has finally lost the battle with himself, his own face curling into a shy smile that makes his dimples pop.

"Aw look, he's blushing!" Mingi calls, making you all break into giggles once again. "Here, who wants the first one?" he asks holding up a toasty marshmallow, Wooyoung holding out his plate of graham crackers and chocolate. "Be careful guys, they're gonna be really hot," he says as he pops another marshmallow on his stick, carefully holding it the perfect distance above the now-steady fire. Eventually you all have hot marshmallows on your plate, the chocolate melty inside the delicious sugary sandwich you all are enjoying. Well, everyone except you has melty chocolate, because of course chocolate was one of those pesky things you couldn't eat. Still you enjoyed the treat, resting your head against the back of your chair as you all chowed down, the group falling into near silence.

"She said she can come tomorrow morning," Wooyoung suddenly announces after checking his phone, the light from the sun nearly totally gone now. You all murmur in approval, genuinely excited to meet this woman who your dear friend so cares about. Soon everyone is done, wiping their faces as they finish the last of their s'mores, the fire slowly starting to die as Yunho and Mingi let it burn out. In the darkness of the night you can see so many starts, the sight always taking your breath away when you have the chance to see it. You lay staring up for a while, trying to find the constellations you know, your eyes eventually feeling too heavy to hold open. Soon you're woken from your slumber by Yunho, as he carries you inside to properly go to bed, your head resting against his shoulder as he carries you. You're out moments after snuggling into the soft sheets of your bed nook, your mind enveloped in a comforting darkness after the wonderful day you'd just had.

[actuallysaiyan]

Hi again!

Here are the requests for DBZ that I mentioned in my previous ask!

Feel free to write them when you want/can!!!

Dating Vegeta would include headcanon

Dating Future!Trunks would include headcanon

Dating Android 17 would include headcanon

Dating Goku would include headcanon

These headcans can be just SFW or both SFW and NSFW.

It doesn’t really matter to me!

warnings: smut, oral sex(fem and male receiving), mentions of trauma, possessiveness, protectiveness, fluff, vaginal fingering, possible mentions of violence word count: 1.7k pairings: Vegeta x Fem!Reader, Future Trunks x Fem!Reader, Android 17 x Fem!Reader and Son Goku x Fem!Reader a/n: I didn't know if you wanted it all in one post, but I figured it was easier for me to do it like this! I hope you really enjoy!!!

SFW

Don’t expect much in terms of romance. He’s not that kind of man. But don’t fret, he will always be there to protect you and defend your honor.

If you show him any kind of affection, he’ll be so flustered and not sure how to handle it. Usually he gets quite irritated, but in reality he’s loving it so much. He wants you to be soft with him.

That being said, if you were to argue with him and fight as well, he’ll be so happy and so turned on. Saiyans do enjoy a feisty lover and they want to feel challenged.

But Vegeta doesn’t always want to fight. He wants domesticity as well and wants to feel loved just as much as anyone else. Show him the softness of a human lover and he will always come home to you for more affection.

He might surprise you sometimes by offering affection of his own. He’ll be red faced and stuttering, but he’ll offer you his heart and soul when he realizes you’re the one for him. You’ve got a lover for life. NSFW

Vegeta wasn’t the most experienced when you first met him, and he was so shy and flustered the first time you tried initiating anything intimate. His hands fumbled and his mouth felt dry and his brain was blank.

With time, he found the right rhythm and touches just for you. He figured out exactly what you like and became the best at pleasuring you. Even if you are more experienced than him, he shows you just how much he enjoys pleasuring you.

Despite what you initially thought, Vegeta loves to give more than receive. He really loves being between your thighs, tongue gliding so perfectly against your wet folds. He drinks up your nectar like it’s the nectar of the gods.

Vegeta enjoys many different positions, but his favorites are doggy and mating press. Both for different reasons as well, considering they give him different kinds of control and feeling.

Sometimes he enjoys sensual, slow sex where you both take your time pleasuring each other. Most of the time his pace is rough and animalistic. He’s very loud during sex, lots of growling and grunting. 

SFW

He’s so considerate of your feelings, but at times he can be flaky and miss dates. He’s not always the most focused when it comes to those kinds of things, but just know he really means well and never wants you to feel abandoned.

He likes to surprise you with cutesy things. He’ll make you a bouquet of wildflowers, draw you something he knows you find cute, make you a playlist of songs that remind him of you.

Trunks will always have your back no matter what. He will defend you with his life. You are the greatest thing to ever happen to him and he won’t let you slip out of his grasp no matter what.

He enjoys spending quiet time with you. You two can be seen cuddling in his bedroom, watching a movie you’ve both seen a million times over. Or you can be in the forest together, walking around and enjoying nature.

He’s big on romantic gestures and often uses them to excuse his flakiness. He’ll plan romantic dates for you even if it’s not always available to either of you because of the way the world is in your future. Trunks wants you to be so happy either way.

NSFW

He’s good with his hands. Trunks enjoys massaging your whole body first to really get you so relaxed and loose for him. Then he likes to suck on your nipples while he fingers you slowly. You’ll be dribbling all over his hand before long.

He’s obsessed with your scent. It could be part of his Saiyan instincts that kick in, but he loves your natural scent. He rubs himself against you just to get more of it on him. And the scent that comes from your pussy makes him drunk on you.

Trunks likes to act tough sometimes, but he absolutely crumbles if you give him a blowjob. He can barely look down at you as you have your lips wrapped around him because the scene is much too erotic for him to handle.

He’s a big fan of lingerie! Get dressed up for him and show off your body in those silky, lacy bits of clothing for him. He’ll spend so long just admiring your beautiful body and undressing you ever so slowly.

Trunks loves pulling out and cumming all over your ass or pussy. He enjoys looking at you with his seed all over your body parts. If you ask him to cum on your face during a blowjob, he’ll bust right then and there. He views it as marking you up.

SFW

He’s awkward at first. He doesn’t truly believe you’ve got feelings for him. He’s done so much bad in life, he figures his chance at romance was over. But when you show him softness, he’s melting.

Give him time to blossom and he’ll become the perfect boyfriend. He enjoys the closeness of being your boyfriend. He wants you to rely on him whenever you can. He’ll show you he can be so reliable.

Android 17 comes with a lot of baggage, and he never wants to open up about it. He’s ashamed of his past. But from time to time, when he does open up to you, please listen to him. The more you listen without judgment, he will be more open to telling you about his past this way.

If you were to play with his hair while kissing him, he’d be so flustered. His cheeks would be so pink and he’d look away. But he absolutely loves it when you play with his hair and kiss him so softly.

He worries a lot whenever he can’t be around you to protect you. He’s vowed to protect you for the rest of his life. It’s a way for him to cope with what he’s done and how to continue to live for a cause that’s worth it.

NSFW

Android 17 has an obsession with cumming inside of you. When he learned that his sister had a baby, he became a man who was relentless with trying to have his own baby. If you don’t want kids, make sure you get on some sort of birth control.

He loves slow and passionate sex more than fast and rough sex. Being able to take his time with you is the best feeling in the world. He’ll be in missionary position, your legs wrapped around him and all he can think about is how happy he is.

He’s big on kissing you slowly and letting it build into something else. Making out makes him hard like a horny teenager. There’s just something about your warm tongue rubbing against his that makes him dangerously close to busting in his pants.

He may need aftercare after sex. It takes a lot out of him emotionally, so just lay there with him and play with his hair and enjoy the pillowtalk. If it gets too intense in his mind, you can just kiss him and get on top again to let him fuck away the pain.

Android 17 loves to go on and on and on for hours. He’ll exhaust you with his stamina. He is a fucking machine, literally and he uses that to his advantage all of the time. Just remember your safe word!

SFW

He’s not the most clever when it comes to love, but he knows how to show you his affection through actions rather than words. He may come across as really dumb a lot of the time, but he surprises you.

You can expect cute little gestures often. He’ll give you wildflowers, hunt you an animal for you to cook, or even just pull you into his arms after a battle to kiss you all over your face.

Goku is so possessive and protective. Nobody is going to get between you two. He’s going to show anyone who’s interested that you and him are so close and nobody can ever break you up. 

He’s got to have at least one hand on your body at all times whenever he’s near you. He’s also big on hand holding and wrapping his arm around you to keep you close to him as you two are out walking.

Doesn’t always know how to be the most romantic and he might actually ask for advice from Bulma to show him the right things to do or say during a date. He cleans up really good too and looks amazing in a suit. It’s not his favorite thing to do, but he’d do it for you.

NSFW

Goku is needy and wants to fuck all the time. Sometimes it’s even when it’s an inappropriate time. You’ll need to try and get him to behave as much as possible. But sometimes he just wants to shove his hands down your pants and feel your wet cunt against his large fingers.

He loves fast, wild and sloppy sex. Sloppy and wet kisses, snapping his hips so fast and hard, bruising grip against your hips, leaving scratch marks down his back as you try to hold on as best as you can.

Goku eats pussy like it’s his last meal. He devours you like you’re the only flavor he wants on his tongue forever. He’s really good at it too, using his instincts to figure out exactly what you like in terms of getting head.

His fingers slide so deep inside you, reaching places you didn’t even know could be reached just with fingers. He holds you on his lap, fingers deep inside you curling against that sweet spot as his thumb rubs against your swollen nub.

He’s messy with cumming. It’s always a bit inside and a bit outside, just messing up your pussy with his seed. He loves to play with it afterwards, pushing it back into you and then smearing it all over your clit. He’ll easily make you cum again like this after he’s had an intense orgasm of his own.

[vinceaddams]

@mxbuster replied to your post “Being a part time alterations tailor may be a very...”:

Omg you are amazing. If you ever want to do a tutorial…….

​Sorry for the delay, I put the photos in a folder on my desktop and immediately forgot they existed.

Alrighty, here is how I shorten modern jacket sleeves.

First I should note that:

I work for a suit store that doesn't take very many outside alterations, meaning almost everything I alter is from the same few brands and I'm used to a specific construction. Other jackets from other brands may have different construction, but it shouldn't be too wildly different.

All the jackets I work on have false buttonholes, or none at all. If you've got one with functional buttonholes (statistically unlikely, but not impossible) you're kind of screwed, unless you need to shorten it by so much they'll all be turned to the inside.

The amount you need to shorten it by should already be marked on the sleeve, or you should have a measurement written down. The salesmen leave a little chalk line for me.

Start by cutting the buttons off. (Both this shop and my previous job use razor blades for this kind of thing, so I can only assume it's common in the professional tailoring world.)

Then turn the sleeve inside out. There will probably be a section on the lining seam where the 2 edges have been topstitched closed. Carefully pick this out with a seam ripper on both sleeves. If it doesn't have this, just open a section of the seam, but not too close to the end of the sleeve.

Often the sleeve lining will be tacked to the outer sleeve's seam allowance in a few places, and you can cut these if they're in the way.

Now you can easily pull out the threads that were holding the buttons on, and can remove the false buttonholes if there are any.

Most of the buttonholes on the jackets I do at work are chain stitch, which means they're easy to pull out quickly once you get one end loose and can un-chain them, but some of them aren't and take a lot longer. I especially hate the ones on the sport coats that have a little contrasting bar tack at the end, those ones are the WORST and take forever to pick off.

There's a seam holding the ends of the lining and outer fabric together. Cut it off.

On jackets with a particularly loose fabric there may be a bit of blindstitching around here holding the end up, same as there is inside a dress pants hem, and you should remove this first. It's big and loopy on the inside and you can find the end and pull on it to make it come apart, just like the string on a potato bag.

There's probably also a bit where the edge of the jacket sleeve is stuck in place with a bit of fusible tape, so pull that apart. Cut through the threads where the seam allowance is sewn to itself, and pick apart the seams that form the corners of the vent.

(I use the razor blade for this too, by pulling the 2 halves of the seam in opposite directions and cutting the threads in between, but you'll probably want to use a seam ripper.) Don't cut the top part of the seam on the vent though, that bit where the seam allowance juts out to provide extra material for the overlap should still be sewn shut, as you can see at the top of the photo below.

Turn the sleeve back right side out and mark the new line all the way around. At work I mainly use wax chalk which disappears as soon as you iron it, but regular chalk works too, it'll just take a bit more work to brush it all off after.

Press out all the creases from the old seams at the corners. (I have to be careful not to get steam on my wax lines, or else they'll disappear.)

Now press the end of the sleeve in and make the new crease. Sometimes I press out the old crease first, if it's far enough away from the marked line, but sometimes not.

I like to press both layers of sleeve at once in the middle, avoiding squishing the sides, and then I press each of those side bits using this little dense pillow thingy we have at work. It's kind of like a tailor's ham but small. You could easily make one and fill it with scraps, it's a useful thing to have. Make sure the overlap & underlap are facing the correct way.

I then straighten out the sleeve and see how the lining length looks. The end of the lining is usually quite wrinkled, so I press it first.

Here the lining is barely protruding, so I didn't trim anything off, but if there's more than about 1.5 cm sticking out past the sleeve then I'll trim that excess off.

Turning the sleeve back inside out, trim any excess off the folded up bit. I try to keep this bit about 4.5 cm wide, so this one just needed a little bit removed.

At this point you may want to add a bit more fusible interfacing to the button area, but it usually goes pretty far up, so I only do this if I'm shortening the sleeve by a LOT. (And if I'm shortening it by that much then there probably isn't enough overlap left to redo the vent.)

Now there should be creases showing where the new vent corners will be. On the underlap side I mark a little + right where I'll start sewing there.

And on the overlap side (the one with the mitred corner) I mark a diagonal x and then draw a line over the whole corner with a ruler, like so.

That is NOT your stitching line!!

This corner isn't perfectly square, it's a slightly wider angle. So when I fold that corner right sides together and match up the lines I start sewing from the tip of that marked line at the fold, but I veer off at a slight angle (in the direction of the seam allowance) and end about 4 mm out from it.

It's not very clear in the below picture, but you can hopefully see it.

Flip those 2 corners right side out, turn the whole sleeve right side out again, and press those corners nice and flat. I use the little sleeve pillow for this too.

Then you can pin the overlap shut just the way you want it to sit, turn it inside out again, and carefully re-pin it so the pin is on the inside, before removing the first pin.

(I actually skip this step and just pin it from the inside and go straight to the rest of the sewing up, and then press the corners after the lining is closed up, but I've done hundreds of these at this point so you'll probably want to do it this way.)

Sew the two halves of the vent together so that it'll stay closed. Just a tiny spot of backstitching on the seam allowances, like so.

Now you can match up the ends of the lining and outer sleeve and reattach them. I always start with the seam opposite the vent, since the vent side doesn't line up precisely.

I put them together like this, right side to right side, and pull those ends out through that opening in the lining before pinning it closed.

Then sew it, starting and finishing on either side of the vent.

There will likely be a small gap between the ends of the seam, since the vent is in the way, but this doesn't matter.

On the non vent side, clip into one of the seam allowances right below the seam.

Fold that seam allowance right sides together, keeping the rest of the sleeve out of the way, and sew it to itself. This is the same bit of stitching you removed earlier in the process, and it helps to keep the end of the sleeve from sagging.

If the seam allowances are too small or frayed you can also just turn it back right sides out and stick a bit of fusible tape in there.

Stuff everything back so that it's right sides out but the sleeve itself is still inside out, and redo that topstitching on the linings. (Or do it for the first time if there wasn't any. You may want to press the lining first if you don't have two nice creased edges.)

If this is your own personal nice jacket you might prefer to slipstitch it closed by hand, or to instead machine sew it closed from the inside and hand sew the lining back to the end of the sleeve, but I'm obviously not going to do that for my very low paying alterations job.

Turn the sleeve right sides out, sew the buttons back on, and you're done!

Nice mitred corner and all!

The first time I did this it took me over 2 hours because I didn't know what I was doing, but 5 years later I've got it down to about 45 minutes.

If the sleeve needs to be shortened by so much that there isn't enough overlap material left to redo the vent, then I just sew it shut and fold the whole thing up. I have to add new interfacing behind the buttons, as mentioned. For this I also need to turn it back right side out before I close up the lining, so I can stick the not-vent-anymore area to itself with some fusible tape.

Sometimes I have to lengthen sleeves, and for that the process is fairly similar, except of course I have to carefully unpick the seam at the end of the sleeve instead of cutting it off, and I sew an extra strip of fabric to the end. (I keep a box of cut off ends from some of the pants I've hemmed for this.)

For that you also need to use fusible tape for both seam ends, because when you've added an extra bit on you can't sew the seam allowance to itself. The amount you can lengthen a sleeve by is limited, since you need to make sure the new piece of material is entirely folded to the inside and out of view.

I hope this helps and makes sense!