#i think the reason why one works over the other for me is

[beloveds-embrace]

Noona you have given me brain worms.

I wonder what the guys would do if they found the scentless reader had entered an enemy house and killed them all before the guys could get close because of their lack of scent? Does John hate using them for intrusions but does it anyways because it's the best chance of everyone coming home alive? Do the guys have a ritual of coming home off missions and rescenting their reader? I really need to stop thinking about this one and get back to homework.

(As an aside I am in LOVE with your writing and I read your works when I get stuck because you craft words so well.)

I claim no guilt over giving anyone brain worms, and omfg thank you!! That’s extremely high praise to me bc i absolutelyyy love your works <33 💕💕 :3 for your first question, they wouldn’t exactly be surprised. It’s why you were brought on the Task Force, it’s what makes you so useful. But once they reached the state of wanting you, and then slowly pulling you in?

They hated it. Hated it every damn time Price gave the order, even if they knew it was the right call.

No scent. No designation. No trace of you ever being there.

You were a ghost, in ways that even Simon couldn’t match. Silent, invisible to the senses, slipping through enemy lines like smoke and leaving nothing but bodies in your wake.

It was useful. Crucial, even. Quite literally the reason why the military had so much use of you. The best chance of keeping everyone alive. Price knew it, hated it, and did it anyway. Every time.

But it never stopped the way his chest felt tight when he had to send you ahead- alone. Never stopped the sharp glances Ghost shot him before you slipped away into the shadows, or the way Soap and Gaz went so still as they listened for any sign of trouble over the comms.

And it definitely never stopped what came after.

The moment you were back- safe and whole but covered in blood- Price’s hand was on the back of your neck, thumb digging gently into your faulty scent gland, his grip firm and grounding. Ghost was right behind him, his presence dark and heavy, crowding close enough to make your breath hitch. Neither of them spoke. They didn’t have to.

Soap and Gaz weren’t far behind. Soap’s hands were already reaching for your gear, tugging straps and buckles loose, brushing against your skin as if to remind himself you were there. Gaz hovered close enough that you could feel the heat of him, his fingers brushing yours when he helped you unclip your holster.

They didn’t leave your side. Not through debriefing, not through cleaning up, not even when you asked them to.

And later- once the adrenaline wore off and exhaustion set in- they were all but dragging you into the nest.

It was deliberate, the way they settled you down in the middle of it, surrounded by blankets that smelled like them, by them. Soap’s hands lingered on your hips, steady and warm, and Gaz was already curling up beside you, pressing into your side like he was trying to leave traces of his scent on your skin.

Price sat at your back, his chest pressed to your spine, one arm looped around your waist while the other cradled your head, tucking it under his chin. He didn’t say anything- just held you there, anchoring you in place as Ghost knelt down in front of you, tugging off your boots and brushing his gloved fingers along your calves and ankles as he went.

And then they started.

Ghost first, leaning in close to press his masked face against your neck. The slow, deliberate drag of fabric and leather along your skin made you shiver, and he didn’t stop until Price hummed low in approval. Soap followed, brushing his cheek against your shoulder before dipping low to nuzzle at your thigh, his hands curling loosely around your knee.

Gaz was next, pressing his forehead against yours and lingering there long enough that you could feel his breath warm against your cheek.

Price was last. His beard scratched lightly against your skin as he dragged his mouth along your throat and jaw, rumbling quietly when you tilted your head for him without thinking.

It took hours. Longer than necessary, longer than it had to, but they didn’t stop until you were covered in them- soaked in their scents and surrounded on all sides.

Didn’t stop until Ghost finally leaned back, pulling his mask away just long enough to press his lips against your temple, and murmured, “There. No one’s getting near you now.”

(If it was before, when you still didn’t realize what they were doing- everything was sharper. Tighter.

They didn’t say anything, but you felt it. Felt the weight of their eyes on you when Price ordered you to take point. Felt the way Soap’s jaw clenched when you slipped away, silent and invisible, like you always did.

You noticed how Gaz lingered by the comms, fingers tapping nervously against the console even though he wasn’t the type to fidget. How Ghost’s hands hovered near his weapons, muscles coiled and ready to move like he was waiting for something to go wrong.

And then there was Price.

Price, who stood stiff and silent until you reappeared, covered in someone else’s blood and staring at him like you knew he hated it but couldn’t bring himself to say so. Price, who didn’t let go of your shoulder the entire debrief, whose thumb rubbed small, grounding circles into your skin every time someone so much as looked at you the wrong way, and you told yourself it was just some weird Alpha instinct that you wouldn’t realize.

They didn’t say anything, not really. Just kept touching- light brushes of Soap’s arm against yours, Gaz’s hand lingering a little too long when he passed you gear, Ghost standing so close you could feel the heat of him against your back.

You thought it was just nerves. Stress. You didn’t think it was something else- not until later.

Not until you were sitting in the nest, exhausted.

Not until you caught Ghost staring at you like he wanted to devour you, or Price leaning in so close that you felt his breath on your skin when he murmured, “Stay still, love.”

Not until Soap tucked himself against your side with a soft, pleased sound, and Gaz let out a low purr, his hands running up and down your arms like he was soothing something neither of you could name.

You didn’t understand it- not then- but they did. The confusion on your face was almost cute if not just a touch infuriating.)

[ellieslittleslutt]

Late Nights

cw: fluff?? vi calls reader cupcake and princess once but that expected. some vague mentions of insomnia i guess.

a/n: uhm so first vi fic that’s wild, defo going to write more roommate vi bc im yearning and i need her so bad it’s not even funny.

wc- 0.5k

🐛°‧🍂⋆.ೃ࿔*:･───────────────

you had problems with sleeping sometimes. wether it was going to bed at a reasonable time or even just getting a deep sleep it was always a problem with you.

tonight was no exception. you were lounging on the couch of your guys’ apartment, doom scrolling on tiktok mindlessly liking whatever you found the slightest bit relatable. it’s was around 1 am which wasn’t too bad but still not ideal. on the coffee table sat a your favorite mug full of sleepytime tea in hopes that it would coax you back to sleep, but like every other time it never worked and didn’t even taste that good.

you were huddled up in the blankets when you saw your pink haired roommate coming out of her room, hair messed up wearing sleep shorts and a sports bra. she didn’t notice you at first in the dark, but then she accidentally sat down on you causing you to yelp smacking her arm “vi get off of me” you groaned.

“shit sorry princess” she mumbled half asleep scooting over. that god damn nickname always got you. you huffed going back to your phone “why’re you up?” you mumbled glancing at her. “i could ask you the same thing hm?” she hums sipping your tea “eugh fuck, this taste like dirty cardboard water” her face in a tight frown putting the mug down. “why do you think it’s half full idiot”

she leaned back against the couch sighing “so wait why’re you up?” she asked glancing over at you. “couldn’t sleep” you hummed resting your head against your elbow looking at her “and you?”“fucking jayce kept calling me” she mumbled with a yawn “asking about how to get bitches.” you chuckled softly shaking your head “viktor?” you asked “you know it.”

you hummed looking over at her kind of star struck by how she looked. you swear you had cartoon heart eyes beating out of your eye sockets. she looked at you with a soft smile patting your shin “wanna watch a movie?” she asks snapping you out of your trance and you just nodded clearing your throat “oh yeah” you said awkwardly pushing yourself up reaching for the remote.

you two both agreed on mean girls because why the fuck not. you sat closer to her your head slowly lolling itself onto her shoulder, vi looked down at you wrapping an arm around you so that you don’t slump down “you’re gonna hurt your neck if you fall asleep like that” she whispered rubbing your arm.

you hummed sleepily in response your lashes resting against your cheeks. vi made the connection that you weren’t going to get back to bed on your own so she paused the movie, and got up slowly lifting you into her arms to carry you back to your room lying you back down onto your blankets tucking you into how you liked.

you don’t know why but just for some reason you felt comfortable around vi, more relaxed and like your self. this is one of the few nights you fell asleep before 3 am and without a melatonin.

vi walked to the door turning off the lamp “night cupcake” she said softly before shutting the door walking off to her room.

from that night on vi would meet you in the couch just so you could yes fall asleep in her arms, totally platonic though… right?

🐛°‧🍂⋆.ೃ࿔*:･───────────────

@autisticintr0vert wifey: @bugbit3ss

[skittles-secrets]

I just wanna say I love your writing sm! 🥰 and I’d like to request hcs on how the batboys act when they have a crush on the reader, and how they work themselves up to asking them out? Tysm!

how they act when they have a crush 😯

bruce wayne

had known the feeling all too well. he'd had lots of crushes before. bruce is worried, though, because most of his other relationships ended in some sort of crazy plot twist and he couldn't handle that again. plus, he was driving himself crazy worrying.

will they not like me after they spend more than a day with me at a time? will they break up with me when they see all the kids? how can i tell them i'm batman?

he got over it though when his eldest son, dick, hit him on the back and encouraged him. "bruce, you can't keep waiting around. if you want something, you have to get it before it's gone, okay?"

so, then he wasn't so afraid of having his little crush anymore.

dick grayson

could've asked you out a loooong time ago. he has the confidence. he has the looks. he was a fan favorite in all of gotham. so why hadn't you? well, he wasn't sure if you'd go for someone like him. he didn't know of your past relationships, let alone if you'd had any. so that's how he talked himself out of it.

it was only when he caught himself giggling at your texts to him at 3 a.m. when he realized that he was down bad. he needed to confess to you. if he didn't, he'd be stuck pining after you and laughing at your texts like a hormonal teenager for the rest of his sad, sad life.

jason todd

didn't really understand the feeling at first. he didn't get exposed to crushes and those sorts of things as a child because he didn't have the luxury of elementary school. then, he spent most of his teenage to young adult years.. well.. dead, so... it's not like he could have been dating anyone then.

that's why he was so confused and nervous. why doesn't talking to you feel like anyone else? why does he mentally scold himself after every conversation for every stupid thing he said.

he realized he had to confess to you on one of the occasions he made you smile. he realized that he wanted to do it over again a million more times, because he wanted to be the one to make you smile and laugh. he wanted to be there for you while you slept, or were sad, or scared. damn.. he really likes you.

tim drake

was no stranger to crushes. he'd always been the type to look at someone and crush on them for years, never say anything, and then it goes away when he realizes that it's never gonna work out. that's what his crush was like, pining after you.

he just automatically assumed that every person he'd like would never even consider dating him. it was weird, because he's a good looking guy and there's no reason for him to think like that.

he realized that he needed to confess to you when he found himself accidentally stalking your instagram so hard he hit the first post you ever made. also, jason called him out for it in front of damian and damian is mean so he got embarrassed and flustered and decided that it wouldn't be so bad if he actually did say something to you.

thank you so much for the request and the follow! i loved this idea, and it was so fun to write. thank you for liking my writing!

[circeyoru]

Love Trial _ Part 2

[Sung Jinwoo x High School Ex-Lover!Reader]

Part 1 ― Part 2 (here)

“I’m sorry. Let’s break up.”

“I understand. I wish you happiness, Hunter Sung. May your days be nothing of smiles and content.”

At the time, there wasn’t much to it, nothing that would make him take it back nor chase after your fleeting form. He, too, turned and left, returning to his work as a Hunter like usual. There was nothing personal, just that he felt like the distance and connection between you two was weaker than what he and you first had all those years ago. 

Well, the difference in your circumstances could be the reason. He was a Hunter and you were a citizen. As bad as he sounded, you two were in different worlds and you both knew it deep down. Yet both of you continued to cling to the hope and familiarity of what you two once had during the peaceful days of school and study. 

The distance felt stronger and farther when he first had the System. He put everything into growing stronger and securing his place so his family would have an easier time. He was grateful for your understanding and the space you’ve given him, but part of him wanted something more, something he can’t place. He was content with you in his corner when things were rough, he thought he was content with that.

More. More. More.

He craved for something more. Like his continuous growth in power and levels, he also wanted his relationship with you to grow. However, as he put more time into the System and its mission for his growth, he should have given you the time of day. Not that he realized until you two met up and told the other what happened recently. 

Shamefully, he kept the System and the power boost he had a secret from you and only told you about the dungeons he cleared. How he was better now and could afford things like medical bills and rent, so you didn’t need to lend him a hand. Effortlessly, you told him everything was going on with your life without many secrets he could sense; it was all so natural to you. Even the part about some colleagues asking you out.

It got him thinking. The situation between you two. Can one really call it a romantic relationship? When the two of you met up after so long, you two shared a meal and he found it hard to even share his mind and situation. There wasn’t much romantic love going on, more like close friends getting together. If people were to see the two of you on the streets, unless you two were holding hands or Jinwoo have his arm over your shoulder, you two looked more like friends.

Just friends. Maybe best friends..?

That’s why he did what he did without remorse. Without realizing his fault. Without realizing the heartbreak he gave you.

Jinwoo thought it was fine to just downgrade you to the status of ‘friends’ instead of staying loyal as your romantic partner. Instead of even trying to revive this distant and strained relationship.

When Cha Hae-In appeared in the picture, he thought ‘This is love’, so he pursued it. A unique bond and connection unlike any other. He was slow to it, but it was worth it, he thought. There was that skip in his heart and minor butterflies in his stomach, so it had to be, right?

A date with Hae-In in the amusement park proved otherwise.

“What a coincidence. Didn’t expect to see you two here.” Choi Jong-In smiled while coming over with an ice cream cone and cup in his hands. “On a date?”

“Guildmaster.” Hae-In bowed his head in respect, though one could notice the blush on her face. “What are you doing here?”

“A causal outing with a friend of mine.” Jong-In answered. He raised his hands to gesture at the icy treat. “Was put on ice cream duty cause I flinched during a roller coaster ride.”

Hae-In laughed, “How does anyone notice that? They’d have to be staring at you the whole time.”

Jong-In nodded along with a smile, “You’re right; this friend of mine really was doing that the entire time, only cause staring at me was better than the ride and wanting free ice cream. I’m happy to oblige either way.”

“Jong-In! What’s taking you so long?!”

The familiar voice made Jinwoo’s head snap over to the side. There you were, walking through the crowd, panting a bit from a suspected run and dodging other people. He did notice a mid-freeze from you, but you continued to walk in his direction.

“Speak of the devil.” Jong-In chuckled and met you halfway, “Slow down, I’m not going anywhere.”

You glared at the fire mage and snatched the ice cream cup, “I’m scared my ice cream would melt! I didn’t care about you!”

“Ouch.” Jong-In playfully acted hurt.

You looked over Jong-In’s shoulder to see Jinwoo and Hae-In. You nodded your head in their direction and greeted them, “Hunter Sung and Hunter Cha. It’s good to see you.”

“Likewise.” Hae-In nodded, while Jinwoo only managed to nod without a word of exchange.

There was silence in the air, Jinwoo can’t help but stare at you, making you nudge closer to Jong-In’s side. A flame burned in his chest at your actions. He didn’t fail to notice how you tugged at Jong-In’s sleeve before the fire mage spoke up, “Well, it’s about time we head our way. Have a good time you two.”

Ironically, this time when you turned and left him, he wanted to chase after you. Just as he took one step and his lips parted, a weight on his arm grounded him. He looked down to see Hae-In shily smiling up at him. “Do you want to try what they did? Sounds fun!”

Right, you have had the best ideas to light up your times together. You can turn dull activities to something worthwhile.

“Let’s.”

As time passed, he found himself longing for your presence more and more. He’d see you while it was Hae-In he was spending his time with, scroll through your past chats with him (he’d see you online and offline from other chats presumably), and even hesitate to call you from time to time. He was always able to stop himself from actually calling you or texting you at the last second, swiftly coming to a sense of guilt. 

Then he buried himself in fights. Dungeons, worldly events, extra quests from the System. Anything to keep himself and his mind off of you, to remind himself why he said those words to you in the first place. It was his Hunter role that made things different, so he thought he’d be happier while attaching himself with a talented Hunter like Hae-In. However, in the end, all he only managed to do was foster more and more guilt and ache from his decision to be apart from you.

His blasted mind kept going back to the scene of you with Jong-In. He did know of your friendship with the man, that you had met him during your college days, an experience that he had to cut short due to his urgent need for money. Thinking back, why you didn’t first break up with him to go to Jong-In was a miracle. Since he was a lowly E-Rank and Jong-In was a successful S-Rank.

What a fool he was to give you up just like that.

He made attempts to see you again; the least he could do was treat you as a friend when he was such a heartbreaker. Through the eyes of his Shadows, he searched for you. Yet, every time, you were busy with your work or you were with some friends of yours. It looked as though you were well off without him, while he was wallowing in his own self-created sorrow. Your smiles without him was like a stab in his heart time and time again. Why did you stay with him when you were far better without him?

Silently, he sent his Shadows to protect you from any dangers. Call it a sixth sense or something, there was this uncanniness of you always glaring in the direction of where his Shadows were, as if you could tell he was looking at you and when.

.

.

.

“Will you allow me to call you mine?” Jinwoo asked the big question on his knee while you stared at him with your hands covering your mouth, obviously hiding a gasp. 

! NOTIFICATION

[WOULD YOU LIKE TO RESTART THE WORLD?]

YES NO

Words wouldn’t form and your eyes started to water. The only thing you managed to do was nod your head repeatedly, showing him that dazzling smile of yours and the echo of your laughter surrounded him.

! NOTIFICATION

[WOULD YOU LIKE TO RESTART THE WORLD?]

YES NO

Jinwoo rose to hug you. His arms opened and reached for you, yet the moment you were within arm’s reach, you faded to nothing. The smile on his face and the giddy feeling in his chest all disappeared like it was never there, replaced with an ache in his heart.

Jinwoo’s hand clenched as he stared at the spot where you once were. Imprinting into his mind that that was a reality he should have made come true and not here. “I know that all of this is an illusion…”

.

.

.

When the war was won and the Monarch of Destruction was no more, he had kneeled down in exhaustion. His mind hallucinated that you would be there to hug him. His ear would be against your chest as you would hug his head to close to you, you had always used your own heartbeat as his calming music after the deadly raids. It was the most melodic tune he had ever heard in his life. It would be fast initially, then slowed down to soft beats that his heart would follow. 

Of course, he’d never have the luxury of that anymore.

If only he had one more chance. “Just once more.” If only he hadn’t been so stupid to make that mistake. Your presence, your voice, your heart, your smile, your love. He could have it all again. If only he had a chance to start over. “Could I use the Cup of Reincarnation just once more?”

Soon. He’ll see you again.

.

.

.

My nightmare is over, and now, I’m with my younger sister, my mother who’s healthy, and my father who didn’t disappear. I was given the last chance to set everything right. I won’t lose this opportunity. I can now rewrite the future that is to come. But, just for a little… Isn’t it okay for me to just treasure this peace that I’m feeling? As a reward for myself.

He knew his duty and he knew when he’d meet you. High school was the fated time and place where the two of you left in love and started going out. This time, he’d fall in love with you and cherish you. Only you. Without the whole thing with gates and Hunters, he wouldn’t have to leave you to attend college. This time, he could attend college with you. By your side.

First. He has to deal with the Monarchs.

.

.

.

Jinwoo stayed seated as he stared at the melting buckles of ice cream he left untouched. The sweetness from the cold dessert had lost its flavour. To be thrown away after one’s purpose is fulfilled was a terrible feeling. Was this for you left when you were abandoned by him all that time ago? He hated this feeling and he hated himself for not realizing it sooner.

Just then he turned his head to the side, the glass showed the streets outside and the people that crowded it because of the giant gate he made for his return. His eyes weren’t mistaken. It had to be. There you stood, a younger form from what he recalled, but definitely you. You were staring at the ice cream shop’s menu with a thinking face before looking down to your phone and started moving once more.

He practically leapt out of his seat and ran to the doors. He saw your back disappear into the crowd and the call of your name from someone, someone he didn’t think would be there with you. Then you were gone again. He could have sent his Shadows to search for you or follow you, but it wasn’t a meeting that would do him much favour. In time, he’d meet you in high school. 

To wait a while longer then…

Manhwa Scene Used (just in case any of you wanna re-read): 161 (illusion with Reader), 179 (Jinwoo’s return & ice-cream shop)

Note: A bit longer, but it's cause Jinwoo's POV is bits and pieces since he needed to balance his depression and saving the world. You know, hero/MC stuff.

This got dragged on for posting cause I got annoyed with the people asking when/where's part 2 when there are responses above theirs already. Please just check before you ask something. It's not that hard, guys...

Part 3 in the works, no promises on when it'll be out

𝕮𝖎𝖗𝖈𝖊 𝖄.

My Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist: @my-arietta @mydearestbeloved @skylar896 @o-qi-shisme @the-dumber-scaramouche @mochinon-yah @waka-babe @ditmemay1234 @mangooes @cottonbeeeeeeee @gurlie919

[ghouljams]

Nasty Dog

(cw: Fae!Soap x f!reader, pre-negotiated consent but not from you, groping, public sex, exhibitionism, dub-con oral(f!receiving), dub-con fingering, fae contracts)

The look you give your boss is nothing short of absolute malice.

Price does nothing but smile, before tossing the dress onto the bar and nodding at it more pointedly.

"Change." He orders.

"I'm not wearing that." You insist.

"Should've seen what he picked out first, be glad I talked 'im down." Price tells you; it doesn't make you feel any better. You still stare down the fabric on the bar and wonder if you could even consider that a dress or something closer to a long shirt.

An incentive, Price had called it, a reward for a job well done. You understand the concept, you just don't know why this has to involve you.

"He's gonna try to fuck me over the bar," You try appealing to reason. Price is a reasonable man, mostly, surely he wouldn't want his bartender unable to pour drinks.

"I'll keep hold of 'is leash." Price assures you. Somehow it isn't comforting. Not that you find anything about the man particularly comforting. He's a decent boss but no more trustworthy than any other fae you've dealt with. Still, if he says he'll keep Soap on a tight leash then that's what he'll do.

"Fine," You relent, "but if I even see his dick I'm quitting."

The threat holds no weight, you have a contract with these assholes, and you know better than to break it. Price still raises a brow, likely thinking the same thing. You grab the skimpy dress with a grumble and go to one of the back rooms to change.

Stupid sex club. Stupid faeries. Stupid job that you stupid need to pay your stupid fucking bills.

-

It's late into the night before Soap even shows up. You're so busy mixing drinks, pouring pints, and trying to tug down the back of your skirt, that you don't even notice him slip behind the bar.

You do notice him when you turn to grab the Aperol, and your eyes immediately flick to the tent in the front of his pants. You scowl when you meet his eye.

"Keep it in your pants," You tell him, doing your best to avoid touching him as you reach around him to grab the bottle.

He doesn't give you the same courtesy, reaching down to lift your skirt as you lean.

You yelp at the sudden exposure and immediately attempt to cover yourself again. Soap's hand is firm where he's got your skirt held, and though you tug at the edges your ass remains out. Soap clicks his tongue.

"Didnae give ya the panties like Ah asked."

You give up on tugging your skirt down in favor of twisting to push at him. You shove his hands, his chest, anything you can make contact with.

"Let go," You demand, feeling something awful warm when he drops to his knees.

"Don't mind me, bonnie." Soap hums, his hands dropping your skirt to grip your thighs. Your hands follow his and you bend to try to slide his hands off of you, only to feel his teeth against the swell of your ass. You stiffen, shooting back to your full height in an instant. You glance at Price across the room, and he holds his hand up with a smile.

Bastard. You can almost hear him telling you to get back to work.

You try to move to grab a new bottle, and Soap keeps you tightly in place. The only thing you can reach is the beer taps. You shoot a quick glare Price's way.

"Pints only for a minute," You tell the patrons seated on the other side of the bar, before you turn your attention back to Soap, "because that's all you're getting, one minute."

Soap doesn't respond except to shuffle closer between your legs and make himself comfortable. You grab a glass and tug the tap's handle to pour a pint for the man that slides up to the bar. Your eyes dart over him, assessing, and you switch to a cider over the lager you'd grabbed. You'd love to give him something with raspberry, maybe muddled with gin, light but stiff, but you're stuck.

Soap's tongue drags over the sleek silk of your panties, and you nearly drop the glass in shock. It takes all your self control to finish the pour, set it on the bar, and keep your face straight. His thumbs rub over your panties, spreading your clothed folds before he licks his tongue over you again. You shudder and push at his hands again, his grip feels like iron, his fingers digging into your thighs to a near painful degree.

The man on the other side of the bar gives you a strange look before retreating to some dark corner.

Another long lick followed by a deep groan, before he's peppering kisses over your ass and dragging your panties down to your knees. There's a measure of care to the press of his lips that you choose to ignore and then forget entirely when he bites your ass hard. You yelp and snap a hand over your mouth to keep from disturbing any of the men on the other side of the bar.

A placating kiss is planted on the fresh bite, and you twist to catch Soap's eye.

"Okay, that's a minute," You tell him, uncaring whether it is or not, "that's all you get."

"Ah dinnae agree tae that." Soap tells you, "Price says Ah have ya for the night."

Your gaze jerks to Price. Then around the bar. You can't find him. Is he even here? What happened to holding the leash?

You turn back to Soap and it feels like all the air has been punched out of you. He holds your gaze with those awful electric blues, and makes you watch him burry his face back between your legs. You twist back to the bar, your back twinging at how quickly your muscles tighten at the first touch of his tongue against your skin.

You grab another pint glass as one of the patrons on the edge of the bar grabs a stool in front of you. You need a distraction from the boiling anger you feel. So you can just be traded for favors? Given out like a prize for a job well done? What's next? He'll be selling you with the girls in the back rooms?

Heat slicks its way up your spine at the twist of Soap's tongue over your clit. Warmth slides back down to melt between your legs, pooling and tingling to following the steady flow of lapping. Over your cunt, between your folds, Soap's face held firm against you even as his hands slide to spread you apart. Waves of sensation that wear like a steady beat against the rocky beach of your self control.

Your hand shakes on the tap as you pour Guinness for a man that looks like he'd prefer a sour. The stout overflows, leaking down the glass and sliding over your fingers as a new wave of pleasure sinks under your skin. You don't bother drying your hand off, or apologizing, you barely get the pint on the bartop without cracking the glass.

The man gives you a once over as he takes it, and you grip the edge of the bar to try and gather your wits about you. You swallow down a sharp noise as Soap drags his tongue in strange familiar shapes over your clit. Your breathing feels uneven, and your hips push back into his touch without your brain telling them to.

It's all too hot, too wet, too focused, for you to keep a thought in your head. Your hands shake against the bar, fingers flexing open and closed with the overwhelming desire to grab and pull at the head between your thighs. You squeeze your eyes shut against the shot of pleasure that zips through you, tightening in your stomach before swirling between your ribs. You bend at the waist, pressing back, aching for more. Those strange familiar tracings are driving you mad.

(Johnny)

Each little flick and roll against your clit making your body shudder and react.

(Johnny)

Your cunt feels hot, electrified with the aching need that drips from it.

(Johnny)

His nose presses against your entrance, grinds teasingly against the wet hole until your breath is shuddering and you're halfway to begging him to fill you.

(Johnny, Johnny)

He pulls back to push his wiggling tongue into your cunt, and you nearly sob in relief. Your head feels like it's stuffed full of cotton, the throbbing pain behind your eyes is starting to recede back into the recesses of your mind. You hadn't even noticed it before it was gone.

Not that you notice its absence, not when your entire being seems to be focused wholly on the way your cunt stretches around Johnny's tongue. The warm wet muscle pokes and prods, wiggling and licking at your soft inner walls when it isn't fucking in and out of you like a promise.

A whimper leaves your lips when his tongue leaves you and drags another rough stripe over your cunt. It feels dangerous, loaded, intent. Some singular goal already accomplished, a deer finally shot allowing the hunter to feed, you almost feel Johnny smile.

You lean over the counter, the cold, wet, wood seeping into the thin fabric of your dress to cling to your skin. Despite the sudden chill your mouth falls open as Johnny sucks at your clit, his tongue rolling over the sensitive bud in crashing waves of pleasure. Your lashes flutter, your eyes roll, and the customer in front of you leans back on his stool. The soft moan that drops from your lips seems to roll like iron across the bar, making every patron pick up their glass in the vein hope of not looking like they're watching you.

Johnny doesn't break from his ministrations, shaking his head as he tries to press closer to you. The stubble along his jaw scratches at your thighs, and you try to swallow down some of the spit that's collecting on your tongue as he swipes broad strokes with his own through your slick folds.

One of the patrons reaches over the bar to touch your cheek, and when you flinch away Johnny growls. He pulls his mouth from your cunt only long enough to warn the man:

"Anyone touches 'er I'll have their heid."

The threat shouldn't send prickles of heat over your skin like it does. Not for the slow way that Johnny puts his mouth on you again, a low growling hum as his lips close around your clit that rocks little jolts of heat through you. His tongue flicks tight short licks against the sensitive bud and each one seems to build a crescendo of want that coils tighter and tighter in the pit of your stomach.

Every muscle in your body pulls tight, forces the arch of your back as you push yourself desperately back into his attentions.

You drop your forehead against the bar with a pathetic whine. You feel pathetic, vulnerable in a way you've never experienced. Every patron at the bar seems to have their eyes on you, you can feel them like a brand, and that attempt to touch you... Knowing they're watching you fall apart, watching Johnny do whatever he likes to you because of a deal he made with your boss- You just hope none of them are wondering what they have to do to earn the same reward.

Johnny's head turns to press his lips to the soft skin of your inner thigh, smearing your slick across the skin, and pushes a finger into you. Your lip wobbles at the not-quite-full feeling, at the burning slide of his finger in and out of you. You can feel his eyes on you too, but where your customers' eyes rove hungrily over your body, Johnny's are focused solely on the way your cunt swallows his thick finger.

His lips mover against your thigh, silent murmurings that your ears strain for over the music of the bar. A second digit slides gently in beside the first, his fingers scissoring to watch the stretch and God it just melts through you. You feel the stretch like a slow warmth that spreads through your pelvis and dribbles down your thighs. Out and in, his fingers dive into you and pull back with just the taste of your slick on his knuckles.

It's less overwhelming than his mouth. Enough of a thought coalesces in your brain to make you lift your head off the bar.

And to feel a sharp jolt of fear burst through you at the way the patron across from you tugs at his belt.

No.

No, you can't do this. It's too much. There are too many people and they're going to think you're something more than just the bartender. They're going to try and touch you, or make you touch them.

It dowses over your heated skin like cold water, making you prickle and tense, shaking with something so close and yet so far from pleasure that your body can't seem to decide what to do with it.

You're not sure who you mean to call for help, but a name springs to your lips faster than your tongue can pick it up.

"Jo-" Johnny's hand wraps around your mouth, his body plastered against your back in a second. The rush of fear leaves you in an instant as his lips find the shell of your ear. His fingers never leave you.

The gentle thrust of his fingers into your tight cunt feels almost like a lifeline, a sensation you can hold onto that you can't confuse for anything else.

"Ahm here, hen." He murmurs, his eyes flicking from your face to the patron's hand. "Ahm nae gonna let anyone dae anythin'." More than an assurance, a promise. You sink back into the feeling. "Take it as a compliment," His lips drag over the top of your cheek, up to your temple, "look so pretty that they cannae help touchin' 'emselves."

You half expect him to leave you like this, to go back to where he'd been between your legs, but he doesn't.

Your fingers find his forearm and grip it tight, something to hold onto as his fingers pick up the pace. In and out, in and out, faster and faster, harder and harder, until you can't stop the high moans that Johnny's hand muffles. His lips press everywhere they can, peppering the side of your face and the length of your neck with something that feels almost like affection as your hips rock and your muscles spasm.

Each thrust of his fingers hits right where you want it, pushing at that wet ache that seems to radiate pleasure. You claw at Johnny's arm with both hands as your back arches to a near painful degree, and he releases his hold on your face to grab your throat.

He fixes his mouth against yours in a searing kiss right as you come, your cunt fluttering around his fingers. Wet squelching rings over the music, filling your ears, and his palm with the sound of your pleasure. His tongue sweeps against yours, and you swallow the rush of saliva the feeling brings.

Johnny looks terribly pleased when he pulls away.

Pleased and delightfully fuzzy.

Your brain is still working through all the sex hormones and the red lighting isn't helping your vision.

You think you should be... mad at him.

You do your best to scowl at him.

"I hope you're not expecting anything in return." You insist, though your knees feel weak enough to drop to the ground right there. Johnny hums.

"Already got what I wanted." He informs you.

Your eyes narrow.

Whatever the fuck that means, it probably isn't good for you.

You fend off his groping the rest of the night, and lock up with a strange(familiar and terrifying) weight on your chest.

[livwritessometimes]

Can you please do a part 2 to “a footnote will do (for me)” with Charles Leclerc?

Perhaps, something like this: She moves on with someone else (one date), and he sees them, gets jealous and chases her. Apologising and grovelling all the way till they make up?

I loved that fix but it was heartbreaking

If The World Was Ending

: Charles Leclerc x Reader

: If the world was ending, you'd come over, right?

: Part 1

: Main Masterlist

: Author's Note - Here you go! Hope this heals the heartbreak from part 1 :)

...

I was distracted And in traffic I didn't feel it When the earthquake happened But it really got me thinkin' Were you out drinkin'? Were you in the living room Chillin' watchin' television

It's funny how life works—why is it that when you're in a rush, you find yourself stuck in endless traffic. Charles let out a sigh; he was exhausted. The past few months had not been the best for him. The season was finally over; he should have been out there relaxing but all Charles could think about was how they lost the constructor's championship. He knows it's not his fault—not entirely, at least—but he couldn't help letting his mind wander. Things had been good for a while; the constant hustle bustle had made his life better. The calm now left him with too much time on his hands to think. It had left him with time to think about his brother's engagement. He still remembers how happy he was the day he got the call from Enzo. It gave him time to think about Arthur—how he got to race with his little brother by his side. That memory brought a smile to Charles' face. It also gave him time to think about Alex; his Alex. Before he could think of anything else, Charles was brought back into reality by his phone ringing. It was her.

"Hey, I was just think-" Charles said before he got cut off by Alex.

"Are you okay?" She asked, voice a little panicky.

"What-ya of course, why?" He questioned, confused by her sudden panic.

"We just had an earthquake, did you not feel it?" She questioned.

"Oh...no not really. I'm stuck in traffic, i didn't feel much," Charles answered.

"Oh good! Alright, I'll see you soon, yeah?" She asked.

"Ya, I'll be there in 15, hopefully," Charles said before he hung up.

Setting his phone down, Charles looked out of the window once again, waiting for the traffic to clear up. As he waited, his mind went to one person—someone who had been on his mind for a while now. He knows he shouldn't think about her, he has a girlfriend and she has a boyfriend—or at least that's what he assumes based on what Arthur had said. Charles had no business thinking about Y/n. It was his fault they drifted apart. Had he not completely ignored Y/n after her confession, they would still be in touch like they used to be, instead of become strangers who only see each other now at big celebrations.

Finally free from the traffic, Charles made his way towards his house. It was a Friday, which got him thinking: Was she out drinking? He wondered if Y/n felt the earthquake. Or was she at home, chilling and watching television with her new boyfriend? As much as he did not want to admit, the thought of that left a bitter taste in his mouth. Which was weird, because Charles was clearly happy with Alex. Why would the though of Y/n being happy with someone else hurt his heart? Not wanting to think further about this, Charles finally got out of his car and headed towards his apartment, to his girlfriend and dog waiting for his arrival.

It's been a year now Think I've figured out how How to let you go and let communication die out

Life was different now for Y/n. She had different goals, and different priorities. It's funny how so much can change in the span of a few months. Y/n had moved to a different house, one that was closer to her best friend, Arthur. She liked this house a lot better than her last; good lighting, a great neighborhood, and living super close to your closest friend—what more could she ask for? However, the real reason why Y/n liked this house so much was that it was in a location far away from him. She wouldn't have to worry about bumping into him every time she'd make a grocery run or go to her favourite coffee shop. Things had been good. She hadn't thought about him in a long time. It's weird how quickly you can go from talking everyday to barely seeing each other at all these days. Y/n preferred it this way. It honestly felt like a year had passed since she'd last seen Charles' face in person. Of course she still saw him on TV, but it just wasn't the same. Y/n even started seeing someone, all thanks to Arthur. This guy was good and clearly into her. It felt nice to finally be wanted. After chasing something for so long with no result, it was refreshing to feel wanted. Y/n figured that if she gave this guy a chance, maybe that would be her ticket to forgetting about Charles. And so far, it had worked. Y/n finally felt like she could move past what had happened between her and Charles. She had finally figured out how to let him go.

I know, you know, we know, You weren't down for forever and it's fine I know, you know, we know We weren't meant for each other and it's fine

Y/n stood in the kitchen, helping out Arthur's girlfriend with the snacks. It had been Arthur's idea to host a game night after watching a couple of reels about college kids hosting annual game night. 'I'm starting a family tradition,' is what he'd said when he invited Y/n and her boyfriend to his house. Rolling her eyes at the memory, she looked at the man in question, laughing at something Y/n's boyfriend had said. Slowly, she trailed her eyes to the left towards, the older Leclerc, only to find him already looking at her. Y/n quickly turned her head and focused on what Jade was talking about. Even though she had moved on, seeing him still felt strange. Every time she looked at Charles, she saw the face of the man she had loved at one point in time. It was also the face of the man who had rejected her. But that's okay now. She had accepted that they weren't meant for each other, even if it was a hard pill to swallow.

But if the world was ending You'd come over, right? You'd come over and you'd stay the night Would you love me for the hell of it? All our fears would be irrelevant

Hours had passed, and the entire group was now sprawled in different corners of the living room. They had spent the last few hours playing a variety of games, which had led to several heated arguments between the Leclerc brothers. Who would have thought they could get so competitive over board games? The night slowly died down and Enzo was the first one to leave. Arthur had dragged Y/n's boyfriend into a different room to show him something she didn't care enough to pay attention to. Making her way outside, she could see Alex and Jade in the kitchen cleaning up the aftermath of such intense game night. As she stared outside, she felt a presence next to her, followed by a soft, 'Hey'. Turning slightly towards the sound, she found Charles standing next to her, staring at the sky. "Hey," she murmured, glancing back ahead. "It's been a while...," said Charles, his gaze fixed on her. "It has. How have you been?" Y/n asked, keeping her eyes ahead, avoiding eye contact. "I've been good, I think," Charles said, his voice a bit uncertain. "How have you been? I see you're dating someone new now," He added, a hint of bitterness laced in his tone. Turning to face him, Y/n said, "Yeah, I have. He's a good guy. In fact, Arthur was the one who introduced us." Charles felt betrayed. How could he not, his own brother was responsible for this. "How is Alex? Oh, and how can I forget about little Leo?" She added. Upon her question, Charles glanced towards the kitchen where Alex was laughing at something Jade had said. He should feel happy—he has a girlfriend who loves him; he should be over the moon. Yet, for some reason, his mind wandered back to the lady in front of him. He could see the sincerity in her eyes—it was the same as when she had first offered him a lift to Arthur's party. The moon cast a soft glow on her face, and it took everything in Charles to not reach out and caress her cheek. Y/n raised an eyebrow at Charles, waiting for him to answer her. "Oh, yeah, things have been good. They're good," Charles said bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck. "Good," Y/n replied, watching as her boyfriend make his way into the living room. "Well, that's my cue. I should get going. It's—it's been nice catching up after such a long time," Y/n smiled at him as she walked into the living room towards her boyfriend. Charles stood there for a moment, watching her leave with her boyfriend. Glancing back at the sky, he muttered to himself, "Good...but not the same without you."

I tried to imagine Your reaction It didn't scare me when the earthquake happened But it really got me thinkin' The night we went drinkin' Stumbled in the house And didn't make it past the kitchen

Y/n slowly made her way to the bathroom, taking off one earring at a time. She felt her boyfriend press a gentle kiss to her forehead before heading off to change his clothes. Staring at the mirror in front of her, she let out a sigh. Tonight was harder than Y/n had expected. Seeing him again shook the very foundation she had spent months building. It baffled her how Charles still held so much power over her. Talking to Charles after such a long time brought back so many memories, but one in particular stood out. She wasn't sure if it was the starry night that had reminded her of that day, or if simply being in Charles' presence had sparked that memory.

*flashback*

It was after a particularly rough Grand Prix that Y/n and Charles found themselves getting absolutely wasted. It was a quiet bar near Y/n's house, one that didn't have many visitors—especially considering it was 3 a.m. Slowly getting up, Y/n stumbled, losing her footing. She fully expected to smack the floor when a strong pair of arms broke her fall and steadied her. "It's okay, I've got you," Charles said as he led her out of the bar towards her house, not once letting go of her. It took them exactly 8 minutes to get the lock to Y/n's door. She remembers it because that's how long Charles kept on hugging her, leaning into her for 'moral support,' as he liked to call it. Slowly the two stumbled into her house. As they walked inside, Charles lost his footing and fell to the floor, pulling a drunk Y/n down with him. Worried, Charles quickly sat up, looking at Y/n to check if she was alright. His worry soon eased as the room was filled with Y/n's laughter. Seeing her laugh, Charles couldn't help but join in. He laid back down besides her, still smiling. "I love you Y/n/n," said Charles as he pulled her in for a hug. Unbeknownst to him, Y/n instantly sobered up when she heard him say those three words. There lay a drunk Charles, happily snuggling with what he assumed to be a drunk Y/n, forgetting about all the worries in the world and just being content lying there with her. Alternatively, there lay Y/n in the arms of the boy she realized she saw as much more than 'just a friend,' thinking if the world were to end tomorrow, she'd be happy to die like this—in his arms.

*present*

Finishing the last step of her nighttime routine, Y/n made her way to her bed, into the arms of her boyfriend. She knew it was wrong; she shouldn't think like this. But one thought lingered in her mind—It's not the same.

Ah. it's been a year now Think I've figured out how How to think about you without it rippin' my heart out

The drive back home was a silent one for Charles and Alex. For the first time in a long time, Charles felt happy. Not once did he think about racing or losing the championship. Not once did the negative thoughts that had plagued his mind for months resurface. He'd like to think it was because of the game night, but no matter how much he wanted that to be true, he knew that wasn't the reason for this happiness. It made him wonder if he had made a mistake—getting together with Alex so quickly, adding Leo into the mix. It made him wonder what would have happened if he had given her a chance, if only he had waited to see how things might play out. Charles thought he had matured. He figured it had been months now, it wouldn't affect him as much. But he was wrong. Even now, after all this time, thinking about her, about them, still breaks his heart.

I know, you know, we know You weren't down for forever and it's fine I know, you know, we know We weren't meant for each other and it's fine If the world was ending You'd come over, right? You'd come over, right? You'd come over, you'd come over, you'd come over, right?

Charles just couldn't fall asleep. No matter how hard he tried, he lay there, in his bed, wide awake. He looked to his side to find Alex passed out with Leo by her feet. As much as he hated to admit, he did not find the sight as comforting as he used to. Looking back at the ceiling, Charles could not bear to let his thoughts run wild for another second. Quickly, he got up and changed into his tracks. He figured a jog would help calm his mind down. And so, that's what he did: he grabbed his keys and made his way out of the house at 2 a.m. for a late-night run.

The second Charles stepped onto the street, he ran. He ran for as long as his feet could take him. After running for what felt like hours, Charles stopped by a park. He took a moment to look at his surroundings and realized he was far away from his neighborhood. Instead, he realized he was much closer to the place he had just come home from a few hours ago—he was near Arthur's neighborhood. Making his way inside the park, Charles spotted someone sitting on one of the benches. As he walked closer, he realized that it was the one person he wanted to get out of his mind. "Y/n?" said Charles in a confused tone. Looking up at the sound, Y/n came face to face with Charles. "Charles! What are you doing here?" She asked, confused by his sudden presence. "I could ask you the same," he paused to look at his watch before continuing, "That too, at 3 a.m.?" Not knowing what to say, Y/n scooted a little, inviting the boy to take a seat next to her. "I couldn't sleep," she said in a quiet voice. For a while, neither of them said anything. The two sat there in silence, enjoying the peace and quiet.

"Do you ever wonder what would have happened if things had gone differently?" Charles questioned, breaking the silence. "Huh? Differently, how?" Y/n asked, confused about what the boy in front of her was getting at. Charles knows he shouldn't say it, but he couldn't help himself. In his mind, it was either now or never. "Do you ever wonder if things would have been different, had I—had we, um..." Charles hesitated. "Had we what, Charles?" Y/n asked, now turned, giving him her full attention. Taking a deep breath, he continued, "Had we gotten together? Had I reacted differently to your confession? Do you think things would have been different then?" Stunned at his question, Y/n was taken aback. "I don't see the point in bringing this up now, Charles. It doesn't matter anyways," she said, slowly turned away from the boy. In an instant, Charles grabbed her hands, stopping her. "It matters to me, Y/n, please," he pleaded. "I don't know, Charles...I don't know, maybe?" Y/n said. Letting out a sigh, she continued, "Why now, though? Why now, when I have a boyfriend and you have a girlfriend...and a DOG, for fuck's sake." Y/n suddenly felt anger towards the boy. Why was he having these doubts all of a sudden? And why now, of all times? She had finally gotten used to living without constantly having him in the back of her mind. So why now? "Don't you think I know that? Don't you think I'm aware of how wrong all of this is? I tried to forget you. I tried really hard to forget every single thing about you, and for a while, it worked. I was happy; I was so happy with Alex, and then we got Leo. I felt complete...but it only lasted for a while. Every time I had a bad day, you were the first person I thought about calling. Every time I won a race or got a podium, your eyes were the ones I searched for as soon as I got up there. Do you think I wanted this to happen? Do you think I enjoyed breaking your heart back then? I hated myself for the way I reacted," Charles said, finally letting go of every single thing he had been holding onto for such a long time. "WELL THEN WHY DID YOU REACT THAT WAY?" Y/n said, losing her cool after Charles' outburst. "I—I don't know," he said, ashamed of the way he handled things. "I just assumed, if we became a couple, things wouldn't work out, because let's be honest I know my luck—they never do, and then we break up. So, I not only lose you, I also lose a bond that I held so close to my heart," he continued. Y/n was at a loss for words. It felt like a fever dream. All she wanted was for Charles to want her. And now that he did, she wasn't sure what to do. Somehow, amidst all this chaos, Y/n's mind drifted to Alex. She wondered if Alex was aware of this, If she had her doubts. She thought about how happy Alex looked earlier today. Snapping out of her thoughts, Y/n got up. "Charles...I'm sorry but we can't—I can't do this. Think about Alex. How can you do this to her? I have a boyfriend now, and for once, I don't have to hope that he feels the same way I do. For once, I don't have to doubt the feelings that we share—whether they're real or not. I'm sorry, but there will never be an 'us,'" Y/n said as she started to walk towards her apartment.

"You said 'feelings.' Does that mean you don't love him?" Charles questioned. Turning back to look at the boy, who was now standing as well, "What?" Y/n asked. "You just said 'the feelings you share,' and not love. Does that mean you don't love him? Is it because, deep down, you know, you still love me?" Charles questioned, taking a step closer. "I'm sorry, Charles," Y/n said as she walked away, leaving Charles all alone in the middle of the park.

I know, you know, we know You weren't down for forever and it's fine I know, you, know, we know We weren't meant for each other and it's fine

The next time Y/n heard about Charles was a few months later. She had decided to spend the day with Arthur and Jade. The trio had spent the majority of their day lounging and watching movies. As the day progressed, they slowly got comfortable on the couch and started to talk about a variety of things, with a glass of wine in hand. Somewhere in between, the conversation about Enzo and Charlotte's wedding came up. "Hey Y/n/n, do you have a date in mind?" Jade asked. Y/n had broken up with her boyfriend not long after that night in the park with Charles. Arthur gave Y/n a sad smile. He knew about Y/n's crush, and Charles' rejection. He also knew about that night in the park. "Umm...not really, I don't have anyone particular in mind," said Y/n with a little hesitation. "Ahh, you know what? why don't you go with Charles? I always thought you two would make a cute pair," said Jade as she got up to get some more snacks. Upon hearing this, Y/n shot Arthur a look. "What?" she asked. Taking a sip of his drink, Arthur said, "He broke up with her." He continued, "He broke up with her a while ago...A few weeks after the park incident." Y/n didn't know how to react. "I didn't say anything because I didn't want you to feel guilty over their breakup," said Arthur. A soft 'Oh' was all Y/n could mutter. "Just know it's not your fault. He chose to break up with her. This has nothing to do with you," said Arthur. Getting up to go get another bottle, he turned around and said, "I know things are complicated between the two of you, but for what it's worth, don't let this guilt stop you from going after what you want. That is, if that's what you still want." With that Arthur left Y/n alone with her thoughts.

But if the world was ending You'd come over, right? You'd come over and you'd stay the night Would you love me for the hell of it? All our fears would be irrelevant If the world was ending You'd come over, right?

Everything about tonight was perfect—the lights, the decoration, the location; it was all perfect. Y/n felt honored when Charlotte had asked her to be one of her bridesmaids. She still remembers how she could not stop crying and how it took both Enzo and Charlotte to calm her down. Standing in front of her was Enzo, a man Y/n considered to be her older brother, looking as handsome as ever. Locking eyes with her, Enzo smiled at Y/n. 'You've got this,' she mouthed to him. Diverting her eyes, Y/n made eye contact with him. Standing tall in an expensive suit was none other than Enzo's younger brother, Charles. The two had not spoken even once since that night—not when they arrived at the wedding location, not at the family dinner, and not even when they walked down the aisle together as the groomsman and bridesmaid. It was clear that Charles wanted to talk to her. He made many attempts to convey that. Y/n, however, wasn't ready to have that talk. Doing so would mean the two would have to come face-to-face with the fact that they unintentionally sabotaged their relationships for each other—something Y/n was not ready to accept.

The ceremony was beautiful. Y/n even shed a few tears at the couple's vow's. It was finally time for their reception. As everyone was making their way to reception venue, Y/n was pulled into the corner by someone. Before she could say anything, she heard "Shh, It's me," and then the owner of that voice came in view. "Charles," she said, although her voice came muffled under Charles' hand. Smiling at her, he said, "I wanted to talk to you, which I think you have noticed by now, considering you suddenly vanish the moment I make my way towards you." Removing his hand from over her mouth, Y/n said, "What do you want Charles?" "Isn't it obvious by now? I want you, Y/n. I know what I said in the park was stupid and selfish. I shouldn't have unloaded my feeling onto you like that. I know I should have figured things out for myself before I did anything. And I've learned it the hard way. I know I hurt a lot of people in the process, and I genuinely regret that. If I could go back in time and reverse things, I would. But you also have to know I have never been more sure about anything else in my life than I am about you since that night in the park. I love you, and I have loved you ever since I met you. I want to be the person you call after a long day, the one you think about every time something good happens in your life. Most of all, I want to be the one you think about, no matter what," said Charles, holding nothing but sincerity in his eyes. Y/n let out a few tears she didn't know she had been holding in. "How are you so sure things will work out? How do you know we're not going to wake up in a year or two's time and realize how big of a mistake this was? And how things would have been better had we let them be just the way they were? How?" Y/n questioned Charles. "I don't, and I can't be sure that this will work out," said Charles. Taking a step forward, he held onto Y/n's hand before continuing, "But I know that you're worth the risk. I had to learn it the long way," he said with a smirk, upon which Y/n smacked his arm. "Charles!" she said in a tone of warning. "I'm sorry, mon amour, but you should know, if the world was going to end tomorrow, you'd be the only person I would want to spend the night with. No matter what happens I want you, Y/n. You're worth the risk," said Charles.

No, there wouldn't be a reason why We would even have to say goodbye

"Are you sure about this, Charles," said Y/n as she looked at him. "I'm more than sure, mon amour," said Charles, his eyes gleaming with nothing but sincerity and love. And so Y/n nodded her head. "Yes," she said as she looked at the boy kneeling in front of her. Jumping up in joy, Charles let out a scream, "She said yes!" All of a sudden, their friends and family came out from where they were hiding, all excited to congratulate the couple on their engagement. Y/n was pulled into an embrace by none other than her best friend, "You knew, didn't you?" she asked. "Of course I knew, who do you think helped him pick out that ring," said Arthur, still hugging her. "I'm happy for you," he said as he pulled away. "Me too," Y/n said smiling up at him.

As Y/n looked at Charles, she knew no matter her fears and doubts, she would never regret this decision—ever.

...

[ssaluss]

This one in particular gave me ideas, im sleep deprived and my wisdom teeth hurts so much i feel it in my eyes, so its perfect for writing lez go.

Him looking different could be an accident depending on wich take you wanna go for his origins, if he was lab created for, idk, GUN getting quirk and wanting something that could counter shadow but obey them, just for this little silver thing that looks useless and physically weaker to appear, they discard the project cause they made it in the molds of the ultimate lifeform and not only it seems weaker it also do not look like him at all so it do look like a failure.

If you go with the biodadow, albinism is a thing and its just cute in general cause i think its funny if silver being this really strong character (he can FLY USING HIS MIND and we dont talk about it enough) just getting sunburned cause he forgot sunscream.

Not trapped into any specific thing (lab, bio, just spawned) it also could just be like a mutation in general that its not commonly found between the blackarms that make them physically weaker but mentally stronger (yeah like rpg stats my boy but them in wisdom and called a day). This ine can tap into the prophecy territory like, these mutated blackarms were attack and distroyed cause their mind wouldn't bend to the hive call and they were so strong they were challenging their leader ignoring the call and even assuming control of others, that's why they were exterminated and every B.A. with the mutation were quickly terminated, but as they don't exist in silver's time, and anyway he got this alien DNA, his chaos signature and his DNA just worked together for him to get this mutation.

Now, im going to get this last bit and tie it along with him constantly having the white noise AND why shadow just don't interact much with him in cannon, lets dive into it and i really need painkillers now.

So, as i said before, he has an unique mind and control over the call, the concept for some reason remembered me of the force in star wars, whatever, so, as his mind is stronger he can just always be in tune, but as most of his futures are apocalyptic and idk from wich he came, he just don't know what he's doing, he feels like he should hear something, sometimes he even gets this feeling someone is reaching out (in the hypotesis of shadow being trapped like in 06 or something like that). The white noise is there cause he can't turn it out, he can turn it down, but its always in the back of his mind.

When he travels back in time, shadow is not a fan of being too close to him and always seems annoyed when he tries to be polite (i like my silver with edge so i like when he's salty like the 14 year old teenager boy that he is). Shadow's actually feeling some connection, he doesn't like it one bit cause it feels like its gnawling in his brain and he can't point out why, silver came from the future and all but he doesn't seem to know him so why does he feels that way? It clicks when, someday, the gang is called and everyone is there to help, even the future boy, shadow's there fighting when he feels something is wrong, a sharp feeling in the back of his head, soom followed by a familiar voice ecoing inside his head, the words clear...

"HELP ME!"

People talking about what if Shadow was Silver’s dad y’know but NOT ONCE have I seen anyone say that if that’s true, then Silver has black arms blood

[persicipen]

𑑛 “TOUCHY” ﾉ ALBEDO, DILUC, KAEYA. GENSHIN IMPACT

gn reader ﾉ words 1.4k ᯽ making out in public. diluc’s office in dawn winery, so not that public. slight exhibitionism. touching them under the table. jerking them off. pouty and pleading reader ﾉ rewritten ᯽ ADULT CONTENT ﾉ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ᯽

ALBEDO ﾉ

Perhaps he knew your intentions beforehand. He doesn’t mention it or give you any indication, and yet you keep glancing his way when you get comfortable in the chair and expect him to follow your lead.

“Could you tell me why am I even bothering with giving you special potions when even without them you’re so needy, hm?” Albedo smiles into your flushed cheek, letting go of your wrist.

He turns to the side, focusing on the sketchbook before him. One would think that he’s just sulking over the newest research and scribbling ideas on the paper; that’s why he’s hiding his face behind the golden curtain of his hair. Precisely, that was his intention, and he’s happy to know that no one would suspect him of allowing you into your perverse desires.

You look up at him with a pout on your lips, whispering in a muted voice, “I promise I’ll be good! Please…”

After a moment of consideration, the alchemist shrugs nonchalantly, as if he couldn’t care less. Oh, but he does, especially when it comes to his laboratory at the knights’ headquarters and how you manage to convince him to allow such activities there. He’ll never admit it out loud, though, not even if it means keeping your desperate moans from the other knights.

“Fine,” he murmurs after pretending that he’s lost in his work again. “You can touch me.”

That is all you need to hear — hands already working on his belt unabashedly. Before anyone who could notice what was going on, your hand sneaks under the cloth. Ah, judging by the way Albedo sighs as you wrap your palm around the hardening cock, maybe it’s not that difficult to get caught after all.

With slow strokes, you continue pleasing him as well as you can without attracting unwanted attention. Smearing the delicate precum around his tip, lubricating his shaft just to make your moves dulcet to his senses. Though it may take some time, there’s nothing better than edging him gently until he loses his cool right here and then.

As expected, it doesn’t take too long before he whispers a ragged warning.

“We should stop, I need to focus on—”

Your hand stops moving along with his words; you simply keep your palm wrapped around his cock, squeezing it tighter. Ah, that seems to do the trick, as you notice the growing smile on his face.

“Ah, well,” he swallows back another moan, threatening to leave his lips. “I suppose five more minutes will be enough.”

The smirk he shows you sends a pleasant shiver down your spine, just like his own hand does when it rests on your knee, making his fingers brush up and down your thigh teasingly.

DILUC ﾉ

The request that has been hanging in the air between you two left him utterly shocked and embarrassed. Battling with the thoughts of what’s proper and the fever taking over his senses as you keep looking at him with your sweetest pleading eyes, he grunts heavily. You two are alone in his office upstairs; there’s no way someone could walk in on you. Unless Adelinde comes in without a reason.

“We shouldn’t…” He breathes out, barely audible even to himself when the blood is rushing through his ears — and somewhere else too, but it’s such a shame to admit it. “Why do you always d-demand such things from me? It’s highly unbecoming for— oh!”

Just as you planned, the very moment he says those words, you kneel before him, eyes focused solely on his expression that contorts in pain from the restraint.

“Are you sure?” you ask, blinking innocently at him.

Even if he wants to reply, he has no strength to do it; he’s just opening and closing his mouth as his cock keeps pulsing in the tight embrace of his trousers. Archons, he knows he can’t win against you! You’re just too dear, too beautiful, too kind. He so easily gives in to your sweet manipulation, but only because he associates your touch with love.

Despite his apprehension, he is the first one to groan in defeat, “Alright, please…”

What makes him regret his decision almost instantly — and makes him melt right away all over again — is the bright smile that blooms on your lips. Just as innocent as it always was.

“Of course I’ll take care of you,” you whisper back, quickly undoing his belt with skillful fingers.

As his cock springs free, warm and heavy on his stomach, the tip already smeared in pearly precum, he cannot help but look at you with tenderness. Despite knowing how naughty you are, how perverse your ideas may be sometimes, he’s still gentle towards you. He loves you for that as much as he does for anything else.

When he reaches out to you and caresses your cheek, you lean into the touch, looking at him from your position right in front of his erection. You decide to torture him further, licking the pad of your thumb to wipe pearlescent droplets off his tip, relishing in the way he bites his lower lip to muffle the moans.

His hand moves to your hair, pushing them aside so he can watch your every move as you swallow his cock into your wet mouth.

KAEYA ﾉ

The tavern at this hour was a busy place, almost too busy for your liking, though the chatter and the cheerful singing created an intimate setting, one where no one was really looking at you despite being in the crowd. Perhaps Kaeya wanted it like that, not really interested in taking you home straight away, not when you have had the idea of touching him now.

Not yet, though, because in this moment, he was happily nursing his drink. The usual one, as he would often tell you that simply nothing else beats its taste, and enjoying himself while watching you from behind the glass.

After a moment of staring at you intently, he says in a smooth voice, “If you want me, why don’t you tell me what you’re thinking about, sweetheart?”

And you’re the one left to blush at his suggestion. He wasn’t exactly wrong. So what if you wanted to get him aroused right here and now? That shouldn’t be something to feel embarrassed about! Even if there were a few people sitting not too far from you, minding their own business.

With newfound determination, you glance at your partner for the night and give him your best attempt at pouting.

“Please? Pretty please? We’ve been here for nearly an hour already and…”

It works. He must be really into that. And into you, but of course. Usually, he would tease you for a while longer, making you say in detail what you wanted from him — all before giving in, of course — but maybe he felt generous today, or maybe he was excited, too, as evident by the darkening blue of his eyes.

Soon, you reach out under the table, sliding your hand up his thigh slowly but surely. At last, you are cupping the bulge through his pants, feeling him twitch and stiffen. Kaeya lets out a shuddering sigh, keeping his gaze glued to your face, lovingly eyeing how you bite your lower lip in concentration.

He wraps his fingers around yours, moving your hand just like he would when he took care of you. Oh, what a pleasure that was. You realise you missed his touch more than you thought. It shows how desperate you were to hear his low groans right by your ear — or rather, to watch his lips part slightly and listen to his breath hitching in his throat.

To let you sneak inside his tight pants, he puts the half-full glass on the table just to focus more on the warmth of your palm. You stroke his heated cock properly, spreading leaking pre around its tip like a glaze, tapping at the slit when it produces more. His chest rises and falls, faster and faster as he leans down closer to you, enough to make his forehead rest against the side of your head.

“You’re making me go crazy, dear…”

[natthehorsewitch]

A story in manifestation

Let me tell you a story about witchcraft and manifestation:

On November 9, my beautiful Jake (Del Mar WSS) was found deceased in his stall. The day was filled with grief and tears, phone calls no one should have to make to his insurance, trying to organize a necropsy on a holiday weekend, and then trying to find transport for his remains to the university so he could get the necropsy done.

Jake’s breeder (we’ll call her K) was in disbelief when I called and told her the news but she (from over an hour away) managed to organize transport for Jake AND get the necropsy started on a Saturday of a holiday weekend (have I mentioned it was a holiday weekend?) During one of our many phone calls back and forth this day I had made a joke about Kyle, Jake’s full brother from this year and how I could buy him now. (She’s produced two horses I’ve called in love with on sight and they were Jake and Kyle. And both times I was unable to buy them right away because life).

After all the chaos was over and I was at home the breeder called me and told me that someone had flown from Texas to California to look at Kyle and she was sending her trainer to look at him the following Thursday and organizing a PPE for him. Nothing was expected to pop on the PPE and nothing really did. There was apparently one anomaly that our vet didn’t think was a big deal. He’s only 5 months old there’s a good chance he’s going to grow out of it. (I personally think rads on baby babies are pretty pointless as so much can change as they grow.)

Ok. Well, if it’s meant to happen it will, I thought. Over the next two days, in my grief I became physically ill at the idea of Kyle going to another home if I didn’t throw my hat in the ring, so I did. I told K I was interested and I would match the offer and waive a PPE. She of course refused to sell him out from under these folks (because she’s a good and moral person which is why we are friends). The trainer came out and seemed to like him as well and was impressed with my friend’s breeding program. At this point, there was no reason to believe he wouldn’t sell. I went to check out her other babies last Saturday and there was no zing with any of them except Kyle. Kyle was so much like his brother but not like him at all, but the most attractive thing: his brain works the same way as his brother’s. They weren’t the same horse but they were similar in the ways that mattered to me. That caused me to buy Jake in the first place.

I immediately went home and did a manifestation meditation. I did a meditation where I envisioned I owned Kyle and what that would look like. Then I wrote his name and birthdate and my name and birthdate on a bay leaf, both sides. Wrote his name on a black chime candle (he is black). And lit it.

I prepared a jar, cleansed with with dragon’s blood incense, and in my cauldron mixed lotus (lock opening) rose (luck) star anise (luck) dandelion(wishes, also represents Hecate and it was her night!), a “fortune” mixture I was given (Haven’t the foggiest what was in it but I needed some “Fortune” and thus it made its way into the spell), and some of his brother’s hair. I put that mixture in a small jar with a small piece of green aventurine and tiger’s eye. I sealed the jar with the wax from the candle over the cauldron, burned the bay leaf and used it to light the remnants of the spell herbs and hair on fire. Then I let the candle burn all the way down and placed the jar near my token of Epona and my hematite horse carving on my altar. I did all this with him in my mind, envisioning him coming home to me.

By Monday I still hadn’t heard. I charged a citrine shaped like a moon. I carried Ehwaz, Jera and Uruz in my pocket with the citrine. And Monday night I came home and did a repeat of the spell (sans hair though because that’s now a precious commodity), put my tokens around a black chime candle carved with his name and my name to charge them and let the candle burn all the way down.

Yesterday, I carried my tokens again and K called me around 10am to tell me that against all odds, the buyers mysteriously passed on him and did I want to work out a deal. I did and I signed a contract and now I own Kyle!

Everyone: meet Kyle (registered as Divination WSS because how I got him was ~ m a g i c k ~)

I was thinking about changing his name to Death Valley WSS (the breeder’s name theme is places in California and his sire’s name begins with a D) but that gets mixed reviews and my mom is absolutely against it and he’s her grandchild now .

If you read this whole thing, please comment because you deserve a cookie.

alt text for all photos: photo of a black colt with three white socks

[oleandequill]

A Reflection of Nothing in You (SG TFOne Fanfic)

Sort of a prequel to this and also based off of my other post because the holiday prep has slowed down a bit and I felt like writing something otherwise I might explode. I really should probably focus on the games I'm playing but I just love writing too much lmao

So have this, more of my SG TFOne!Megatron being a Medic for the Decepticons propaganda /j (okay the reason he's in this role is cause I don't think he would have had a reason to take the leadership from SG!Starscream and well the Decepticons might need a scientist/medic cause they all seem to be military mechs - though I'm sure they probably do have a medic among them... surely).

“Is that your cannon, or are you just excited to see me?”

If that question had been posed before the procedure, Megatron may have been agitated enough to shoot the mech in the chassis. The words themselves were enough to send disgust through his processor, but it was because of the question rather than who had asked it. The lack of reaction in his blue optic must have caught the other mech’s attention since he froze, giving Megatron the opportunity to slam the end of the cannon against that purple helm. With the other mech stunned, he quickly moved away.

There was a tense silence, even with the ongoing chaos around them. Megatron took a moment to turn his optic away, catching a glimpse of Thundercracker and Skywarp as they attempted to carry an unconscious Starscream from the battlefield. Truthfully, Megatron had been prohibited from entering the battlefield after his recent stunt. However, as the medic, he found that disobeying Commander Starscream’s order was necessary if they wanted to keep more Decepticons alive. Besides, how could he have stayed inside the base when the communication lines were blaring the same message over and over?

‘Commander Starscream has fallen! Fall back!’

He genuinely thought his wings would crack at how fast he had flown over. Fortunately, it had merely been a misreport. The axe had taken most of the chassis off, but the spark was still intact. If he had been a second later, maybe the Decepticons really would have lost their leader. Luckily, as per usual, his presence on the battlefield was always enough to distract the mad Prime from pursuing who he had been fighting. His relief for Commander Starscream was short-lived though as he was left alone with the Prime. No other mech would dare to intervene now.

“Your optic…” It was whispered so quietly that he’d nearly missed it. Megatron trained it back towards the mech before him, a sort of indignation rising in his spark. But not at the Prime, no, it was only a reaction to the audacity of this mech to mention his optic when he was the cause why one was missing in the first place. Even now, it was difficult to look at the other without focusing on the singular blue optic on the Prime’s faceplate. His optic that the other mech had torn from its socket. “Do you recognize me, Dee?”

Although he knew the carnage around them was because of the Prime’s inability to relinquish power, Megatron could almost understand what his old self saw in Optimus Prime. Maybe there was still a part of the Prime’s spark that was Orion Pax. Surely there was, because why would he have created reprogramming to rid himself of the feelings he’d held for the other mech? If Orion Pax had truly died, then his old self would have had no reason to hold on. He would have had no reason to commit such an unethical act to free himself from the sparkbreak.

“My memory circuits are intact, Prime. I know who you are.” He kept the cannon trained on the mech in front of him. The emotional part of him was aware that there was something inherently wrong about the emptiness in his spark. He was missing a crucial component inside him. The memories of their past were still there in his processor, but there was nothing to feel - as though the memories were merely flashing images. “You were once Orion Pax, maybe you still are, but that doesn’t matter anymore. You are nothing more than the enemy of freedom to me.”

There was a tense silence before the Prime began to stomp his way towards him. He didn’t hesitate, firing off a singular shot that the other mech immediately dodged. The Prime didn’t dare get any closer, instead, his mouthplate opened - showing how hard the other mech was venting. The Prime’s red and blue optics had softened, even if they still held lingering traces of anger. They flickered to the rest of the Decepticons still left on the field, as if searching for someone to blame. Then, his gaze was drawn back to him. “Dee… what have they done to you?” 

“According to my memories, you always insisted we should not be afraid to do what we want. That it is our right to… be more than what we are and that we should make our own choices.” His tone was even, unable to feel a hint of guilt despite shooting at a mech his old self had once loved. The emptiness in his spark was unbearable, but Megatron had no way of reversing the procedure - not that he wished to do so. “Why do you try to deflect the blame instead of believing that I made this decision myself, Prime?”

“Because you wouldn’t dare—” The Prime growled out through gritted dentas. A disbelieving smile appeared on the other mech’s faceplate, his servos twitching by his sides as though he wanted to pull Megatron closer - either to keep him in his arms or shake him, Megatron was not quite sure. His memories of the other mech were confusing. At some points, Orion Pax had been rather clingy. In others, he was rather pushy. “You wouldn’t dare… Come on, Dee. A mech like you? We both know you wouldn’t do something so cruel to anyone. I thought that was my job, remember?”

“I distinctly remember calling you cruel.” He nodded. His old self must have been desperate if he had resorted to reprogramming technology. If the emptiness in his spark was unbearable, Megatron had to wonder what the sparkbreak must have felt like. He wondered if it was the same reflected pain that was on the Prime’s face, as though he had lost something he could never get back. “Understand that the me before you feels nothing for you, but I believe my old self loved you very much. He must have if he was willing to break his own moral code.”

The Prime had closed his optics, letting Megatron’s words wash over him. Then those optics opened, and the mouthplate was back on. “A new technology you created then?”

“I created it, yes.” Megatron started to back off, seeing from the corner of his optic that most of the Decepticons were beginning to retreat. He could hear his own communication device beeping rapidly, an order to fall back.

The Prime followed slowly after him, those optics trained on his faceplate. “Care to share?”

A rueful smile found its way to his dermas. “So you could use it for your own selfish gains? I’d rather you take out my other optic than ever give you the blueprint.”

“Oh Dee, I wouldn’t use it for selfish reasons.” The other mech had the audacity to laugh. “I only want to fix you.”

“You’d only make me worse.”

He turned while indiscriminately taking a singular shot at the mad Prime again. He didn’t know if he hit his target, having already transformed into his alt and flying away.

Now that he had properly met the Prime after the procedure, Megatron couldn’t help but worry that his apathy would only make the other mech more wrathful.

[rayofmisfortune]

Realized I've never really provided context for this? Or I may have lmao. Anywho found the context to this doodle in my notes app and may as well post it hehe

The drabble and au by extension take place after a video from nearly a year ago at this point. I'm not at all caught up to the current events. There are some mentions of things that make no real sense show-wise but they are connected to a one-shot I had written for this au, sort of a prequel-ish thing before everything went to shitz. No real need to read it, but it provides some more context to why Solare is going off at Wamoon here. The fic if anyone's interested.

Anyway without further ado, le ✨context✨

"Are you sure the exit's this way?"

"As sure as any other of the dozen times you've asked, I'm losing more and more hope of ever getting out with each time you ask me, Moon."

"Right, right."

The two trapped attendants round yet another of the labyrinth's corners. Each turn and twist of the path diminishing their spirits more.

Moon batted at the watery end of his nightcap. "I just hope that when we get out it won't be to find out Ruin's crazy face leering down at us."

Solar's shoulders stiffened at the mention of Ruin. They were the one reason they were even trapped in here. Though he can't really blame them. They couldn't have known their rescue mission would turn into such a disaster. He really hoped they were okay.

"I hope they're okay."

"Who? Sun and the others back home?" Moon tilted himself, manhandling his watery nightcap. It got too close to brushing Solar again.

The firey attendant peered around a corner. "Those too, but I was more so thinking of Ruin."

Moon swatted at Solar's gloved hand. "Psssh. Why him? If I'm being real with you, I don't trust 'em farther than I can throw 'em. Which..." he considered, "is rather far." Moon shock his head as if to shake the wrongly used expression away. "What I mean is, I don't trust him. Don't you see how suspicious it is that Eclipse comes back shortly AFTER you're knocked out. The only person there to witness the whole thing didn't see anyone and was SITTING with you for an hour waiting for you to wake up? Ruin's been there with you unconscious long enough to copy over your files to use to make Eclipse."

The exit/entrance was down a darkened hall. Hopefully no... lurkers would jump them before they can get to it. It's all been rather peaceful thus far.

Solar turned around to look Moon in the eye. He shook the hand Moon batted at previously. The leather helps with avoding any pain reactions, though it does still leave a slight sting. "No, no I don't."

Moon sputtered. "Wha- wh- you can't be serious. Did he brain wash you while he had you knocked out as well?" He adds on in a mutter. "I'll have to check your systems for any out of place protocols..."

"No, no THEY didn't. Don't think I can't hear you, you will be doing no such thing." Solar was trying to hold back from raising his voice. Moon's been going on and on about Ruin betraying them. He's been TRYING not to snap, keep his promise to Ruin. He really was. And he'd been doing a stellar job at it. As seen in the lunar bot openly doubting said merged AI.

He'd had enough. He'd had enough of this. "It's them, not him. For one."

Moon's vocalizer stuttered, getting a retort ready. Solar shushed him before he could even think of opening his mouth. "No, no no shut UP for once and let me talk." Solar ran his hands over his face. "You are SUCH a hypocrite, you know? You have no proof of them working on something behind your back, but EVERY proof of them just trying to reach out and help. Yet you turn them down or send them away at EVERY TURN. Do you know what happened on Christmas Day? Why I left?"

"I just thought you w-"

"No, no let me FINISH!" The flames around Solar's head flared up. "I went up there, because I saw Ruin watching us from the balcony. You know, at first I thought they were spying on us to gain some form of information out of it, as you kept on hammering in my head at EVERY chance you got! No, no that wasn't why they were there. You wanna know WHY?"

"Why was he th-"

"THEY were there because THEY were LONELY, Moon! They came to the Daycare to help YOU with clean up." Solar jabbed a finger into Moon's chest. "And you wanna know the best part? The COMPUTER ITSELF told them where we were! Would it do that with someone who has bad intentions? NO! NO IT WOULDN'T!"

Moon glared at Solar through the rim of his hat. "That DOESN'T prove anything, Solar! They could have even the computer fooled!"

"Ooohoho, doesn't it? If I'm going by your oh so SOUND logic. Then by all means, I would be in the right to assume you're not some new guy, with no knowledge of past events. But just the Old Moon pretending to have gone through a memory wipe! Taking enjoyment in making everyone fumble to keep him in the loop of things when they're all in deep SHIT! Taking the chance to throw all his misdeeds into some personality he calls the Old Moon."

Solar took a step back. "No, no, what you did. Was throw a person clearly struggling to come to terms with the situation they suddenly found themself in to the wolves. The first chance you got, you threw them under the bus. Discarded them like an unwanted TOY. And then you're SURPRISED when they distance themself when they clearly see they aren't wanted..."

Solar turned around, back towards the next exit. He took in an artificial breath. "I hope you're proud of yourself."

Solar didn't look back. The automatic door activated by his elemental signature to let him through. He had his fists tightly clenched, shivering in barely held restraint. He waded through a pool of lava. If he looked at Moon's face any longer, he's sure he would've done something he'd regret.

Moon stood in the empty corridor. Speechless. Thoughts running through his mind so fast he couldn't focus on a single string of thought. Was... was Solar right?

Some future stuff for the au

✨No context✨

[blissfulrain12]

Cockpit Conversation Analysis

So I just wanted to go over my thoughts on this conversation cause I think people miss out on a few things. It's the first conversation we see between Curly and Jimmy when it's just the two of them. Before it happens we're told that Jimmy has been difficult with Anya, making her job harder and saying things that are sexual harassment (if the cartoon horse question isn't actually on the eval). We go into the conversation with the framing that Jimmy and Curly are friends. They've known each other for a long time and Curly is confident Jimmy won't bullshit him. Except on the way to the cockpit we get Curly's one and only bizarro moment and it's an expression of fear and anxiety. With this context in mind let's look at the actual conversation.

Transcript from @familiarartistname they're awesome for providing these.

I've already talked about these lines a bit but to sum up Jimmy asks Curly to fake it and Curly refuses to forcing him to go through the eval.

What I want to point out for this post is that Jimmy's not wrong in his assessment of how useless the psych evals are. I think his general irritation with the eval helps mask his disdain for Anya. Especially if being attracted to cartoon horses is an actual question in universe and not just an easter egg on the in game eval sheet. If it is I think this is part of why Curly and Anya don't take Jimmy as seriously as they should here.

I also think it's important to note how and when Curly bends the rules. He'll do Jimmy's eval for Anya but he won't make up answers for Jimmy. I think this is an example of the balancing act that Curly is engaged in as captain.

These next lines are interesting to me. One is that Curly seems to take separation of what PE needs to know and not know. He makes it clear that whatever Jimmy says here is not going to be repeated to the company. He does something similar for Anya when he thinks she took the gun during a breakdown over the layoffs. Notably he doesn't open up to Anya during his own eval. I wouldn't be surprised if part of the reason he doesn't is because of a lack of this distinction. This is also another example of Curly doing that balancing act of being a captain. Managing what the company should know while protecting his coworkers' mental health.

The other interesting part is Jimmy's answer to the question. He likes it cause they're in control here. I think Jimmy is the most positive about working for PE and it's all because he feels in control. I think people miss it but Jimny is happy for the most part pre layoff. He's in control what more could he want?

I think it's interesting that he says this because on paper Jimmy's not in control. I've seen people call Jimmy Curly's co-captain but he's not. He's just the co-pilot and by the looks of things isn't actually of higher rank than the rest of the crew. Post crash it takes 2 months for him to take the captain title and he gets push back from the others. If he did outrank them or was co-captain leadership would have instantly passed to him but it doesn't. Yet Jimmy says "We're in control" because Curly's control is his control because he controls/leeches off of Curly. I think this line is our first warning sign that something's not quite right with their relationship.

This part of the conversation has a lot going on even though it's so few lines. First it tells us that Jimmy liking the job is unexpected because he's struggled in the past and people praise Curly as a captain and Jimmy doesn't like that.

Focusing on Jimmy's line I think this is the first line that people pick up on that their friendship is strange because who tells their friend people praising them is annoying? If you look at the flow of the conversation there's no reason for Jimmy to bring this up as well. It goes "How are you?" "Great" "That's unexpected because of your past" "Yeah well people praising you is annoying". They're not talking about Curly or how people see him as a captain. Jimmy brings it up and calls it annoying simply to hurt Curly.

Jimmy takes Curly bringing up his struggles as an attack so he attacks back by making him feel bad about something good. Remember that when Jimmy brings this up during the birthday scene he misquotes Curly as saying "struggle of a life" when that's not what Curly said at all. That's how Jimmy felt about it though. This also isn't the last time Jimmy uses Curly's success as a captain as a weapon against him either. The way Jimmy does this is also very emotionally abusive. Jimmy isn't just framing praise for Curly as bad but bad because it upsets Jimmy. It might not seem like much but comments like these are links in a chain, they add up together.

For Curly's part of the conversation I've seen interesting interpretations of what those "struggles" were but I think we do lose some context sometimes. It's important to remember that Curly thinks Jimmy's struggles would've led him to dislike being a freighter pilot. Meaning his struggles are most likely more personal in nature.

So Jimmy switches topics again by asking Curly what's bothering him. Jimmy also does this during the birthday party scene. He seems very intune with Curly's emotions able to see past any attempts to hide it and see that he's upset. Which does indicate their closeness and friendship.

As for the last line looking at this transcript made me realize how much the fandom associates this suicidal imagery with Curly even though it's Jimmy who says it. In fact I don't think Curly ever describes his feelings like this it's always Jimmy who says it about Curly. This is a very odd way to ask your friend why he seems upset and iirc the next time Jimmy brings this imagery up to Curly is right before he attempts a murder-suicide.

(The line "And that's bad?" should be green as that's Jimmy.)

Curly's answer to Jimmy's question is very interesting because it's not uncommon for people his age to feel this way. We spend the first part of our lives growing into, discovering, and establishing the people we're going to be. When we hit our 30s/40s it's natural to look over who you've become and what you've made for yourself and ask "Am I satisfied with this?" I think for Curly he's leaning towards "no".

It's not that Curly thinks he's above his job, he's just not satisfied in it. It's like how Swansea isn't satisfied with the life of a family man even though society says that's the "right" way to live. Curly is weighing the risks and benefits of staying in a steady job he's successful at vs starting over with something that will satisfy him even if he's not conventionally successful at it. It's a heavy decision to make and we know from the dlc for How Fish Are Made that Curly regrets not changing sooner.

As for Jimmy's response, he in fact doesn't get it. It's fascinating how Jimmy took Curly's words about life satisfaction and turned it into being about career success and hierarchy. Curly's feelings have nothing to do with reaching the top of his career but Jimmy can't see this. Jimmy sees the world through Capitalist/Patriarchal hierarchies and has a habit of projecting his feelings/pov onto others. This is the closest he can get to understanding where Curly is in his life right now. Which makes sense because Jimmy comes from poverty and has struggled in the past he's not at the same life stage as Curly.

It's also fascinating that again we see imagery that the fandom associates with Curly being something Jimmy says about Curly and that Curly never expresses. The only time this imagery comes up for Curly iirc is his bizzaro sequence leading up to this conversation with Jimmy. The ladder is a metaphor Jimmy imposes on Curly. He also kind of imposes this sense of ambition onto Curly. Like it's only natural that after reaching the top of one ladder a man would look for a new ladder to climb.

There's something about the last thing Jimmy says here that is necessary to point out because I think people miss it. Jimmy turns the conversation back to himself. He's made Curly's feelings about himself and once again made Curly's feelings in opposition to his own. Curly's dissatisfaction while being at the top vs Jimmy still climbing.

Lastly Curly knows Jimmy doesn't get it. "Something like that" indicates Jimmy's interpretation isn't right and later in the birthday party scene Curly reinforces this by saying things like "what I was trying to tell you". So yeah Curly knows that Jimmy doesn't understand him but doesn't try to explain further.

Curly's last bit of dialog in this scene is him comforting Jimmy. Remember how I said Jimmy recenters himself despite the conversation at this point being about Curly? This is what I mean. Jimmy asked Curly to be vulnerable with him and Curly ends up comforting Jimmy. Jimmy gives Curly no words of reassurance here, in fact Curly doesn't even get understanding.

In comparison see my Dead Pixel analysis where even though Curly doesn't see the pixel he still believes Anya and aligns with her opinion of the screen being nice. There's no alignment here between Curly and Jimmy, they are talking about 2 different things and it's one sided in Jimmy's favor. In the Dead Pixel convo notice how Anya continues to open up to him, she goes from the pixel to the time left to the locks. Curly in comparison stops trying.

This line also establishes Curly's belief in Jimmy. A belief that even this conversation demonstrates that he shouldn't have. But it's subtle and I can't blame Curly for missing all the things wrong here when so many of the fandom misses it too. We give the conversation the benefit of the doubt because they're friends and we don't know the full scope of Jimmy yet. It's also interesting cause this is the only time Curly says he believes in Jimmy outright and yet the way he believes Anya about Jimmy brings up questions for another time.

Alright last bit and it's from Jimmy himself. So two things from those first lines. One we have Jimmy back to feeling good from Curly's belief in him. A reminder that back when he was asked how he was doing he was fine. Jimmy's feelings are the priority here. Two we see Jimmy's insecurities in here. He's insecure about how his eval comes across. He's very insecure about how he's precieved which comes up again and again through his obsession with reputation, being a hero, and being a patriarch. I also think this points to where his struggles might be in. The evals are labeled as psychological but the actual questions are about employee productivity. Which part of that Jimmy is worried about I'm not sure.

Then we get the message from corporate and Jimmy is instantly out of there. Which brings me back to the beginning. Jimmy likes it there cause "we're in control" and yet when the responsibility of that control shows up he excuses himself. Granted there may be a rule that no one else can be in the room when messages come in but that reinforces the fact that Jimmy doesn't have any power on paper. He's not a co-captain. Jimmy's sense of control comes from his power over Curly.

So yeah my final thoughts? This conversation is unhealthy and it's the nicest conversation we see Jimmy have with the actual Curly. We get a little joking around here and there but one on one longer convos? This is as nice as it gets. In context Curly experiences feelings of fear, anxiety, and isolation on his way to this conversation. It's full of unhealthy moments and the one sided prioritizing of Jimmy's feelings. The status quo for them has not changed yet. If this is an example of what their average conversations are like their relationship is emotionally abusive.

Imagine having a friendship where you have to always prioritize your friend's emotions over your own. Where if you say something that bothers them they take verbal potshots at you. Where they make you feel guilty for being more successful. Where they make your vulnerabilities about them. It's like I said it's links in a chain. By themselves it's not a problem but together over time these behaviors will do damage to a person.

And putting this conversation back into context this is one of three verbally abusive moments we witness in the span of a week. And there are indicators that in each that these abusive behaviors aren't new. Curly in this conversation doesn't question Jimmy claiming control or the "praise for you is annoying" comment. None of this is weird to him and that's a bad sign. Abusive behavior was already normalized on the Tulpar, it was a powder keg waiting to happen.

[dolphincultleader]

Woozi being the first person you ever felt comfortable enough with to show your art

T/w- Reader sorta has self esteem issues, a few curses

A/n- Guys i am so sorry for the inactivity. Life has been throwing shit at me nonstop and I was in a horrible place the last week. I managed to get myself together and write this. I hope you enjoy this and I'll try to write more

Word Count- 1027

---

...

You loved to draw. You loved how it expressed feelings that could not be said in words. But in no way did you consider yourself an artist. It was always a silly hobby for you. You never even thought of expanding it into anything more. Showing others what you drew made you feel very silly.

The few months you had been dating Jihoon has been no less than a dream to you. He's just so... perfect. In every way. You truly felt like you had hit the jackpot. Sure, he prioritised his work a lot, but being a workaholic yourself, his habits never bothered you.

You admired him and his confidence. You admired how he could just put words from his mind together and make something so amazing.

You had never wanted to share your art with anyone else because of the fear of being judged. That was until you met Jihoon. He was so wonderful, in every way imaginable. You knew he would never judge you. He'd never criticise you unless you asked for constructive criticism. Being around him was so easy for you. Yet your fear was way too deep engrained

---

Now, as you paced back and forth in front of his studio door, you contemplated everything. What if it's so bad that he can't stop his face from morphing into one of disgust? What if it's so bad that his idea of you, as a person, gets affected.

He wasn't a mean and judgmental asshole, you reasoned with yourself. For god's sake, you were dating this man. You cursed under your breath and you turned away from the door, sketchbook in hand. If it was just a silly hobby then why did it matter so much to you?

You looked at the door again, hesitating.

The door suddenly opened.

Shit.

Jihoon stood at the doorway, phone near his ear, clearly talking to someone. Your widened eyes made you look guilty. What if he thinks you were eavesdropping.

Double shit.

He narrowed his eyes at you, you stood there frozen for the first few seconds. The muffled sound of a woman's voice came from the other side of the phone. You opened your mouth to speak just as his eyes dropped to the sketchbook you clutched to your chest deeply. He met your eyes while you smiled sheepishly. He gestured you to go inside while he left to get something, humming to whoever was on the phone with him.

As you entered his home studio, you let out a breath you didn't realise you were holding. Did he think you were eavesdropping? Fuck. Before you could spiral more, he reemerged in the entryway. Still on the call. His other hand clutched a wattle bottle.

After a few minutes, he bid goodbye and cut the call. He didn't look at you as he settled in his chair. Your mind thought of excuses to leave. He was your boyfriend for fucks sake. Why were you so scared?

You didn't even realise that he had gotten comfortable in his chair and turned to you. He looked over at you with curious eyes.

"Wanna tell me something, love?" He eyes the sketchbook, a teasing emphasis on the word love.

You cleared your throat.

"Well, I uh... want to show you something..." you paused, gawking his reaction. He hummed, amusement displaying in his face. Why the fuck did he look so hot? He waited patiently for you to show him.

You suddenly dropped your head in your hands and groaned.

"Never mind it's dumb" you muttered as you quickly made a beeline for the exit.

He gripped your wrist, preventing you from going. He sure had strength.

"No it isn't. Why don't you show me?"

His voice made shivers run down your spine in the best way known to humanity.

"Promise to not laugh?"

"I can try" he stated, clearing teasing. But the shit eating grin got knocked off his face as soon as he saw your face drop. He raised his hands in surrender.

"Just joking, of course I wont laugh."

You silently handed him one of the many sketchbooks you have. This was your most recent one and your proudest pieces laid here.

You sank to the couch again, head in hands as you heard the sound of pages turning. After a few minutes, you looked up at him.

Motherfucker had a poker face.

You immediate thought was-

He hated them and couldn't think of how to tell you.

And then a smile flashed his stupidly cute face.

"Do you... hate them?" You asked in a soft voice.

That made him look up from the sketchbook, brows shot up at your question.

"What do you mean by 'hate them'?"

"I uh... It's always been just a silly hobby"

He got quiet at that. Just staring at you. The fuck does his guy want?

"For just a silly hobby, you're damn good at it"

Pink tinted your cheeks at that. You were never good with compliments.

"You mean it?"

"Do you have eyes woman?"

You laughed at that.

"No, I am serious. How come I never noticed how talented my baby is?"

"You're the first person I have shown my part to... ever"

His eyes widened in shock and he muttered something silently that sounded a lot like "holy shit".

"You're joking, right?"

"It has always been silly to me..."

He shook his head at that. Placing the sketchbook gently on his desk, he got up and made his way to you. A slight grin playing at his lips. He inched closer to you while having a lovesick look on his face. How the fuck did he get so lucky, he wondered.

He placed his hands on your shoulders, pushing you back as he placed his lips on you. The kiss was so tooth rottingly sweet and gentle that you felt like you could melt. Your lips parted, giving entry to his tongue. After a few moments, you both pulled away, breathless.

"Sometimes I want to shake some sense into you"

"Well, you can fuck some sense into me..."

You knew your words would go straight to his dick.

---

Masterlist

[xitsensunmoon]

Hi Xits! It's so nice to see you on my dashboard again :DDD

I have a few questions about your boys if you don't mind answering them (and if you can/want obv):

1) Will y/n mend their clothes at some point? Or buy the same but new outfits?

2) (dunno if it's been answered before, probably yes but-) do they need to charge in addition to drinking blood or is charging like what would be normal eating for a human-then-vampire? (They can but it doesn't do much to relieve their hunger?)

3) I remember in one of your old comics (and yes I'm still thinking about it) Sun warned y/n to stay away from Moon during one of his episodes (virus induced? Starvation? Virus induced hunger??? Mmhh) How frequently do they happen? Does Sun have similar moments? And if he does who's gonna tell y/n? I don't feel like Moon would care much about their safety at the beginning...what if they both have one at the same time?

4) do they smell the scent of blood or do they detect it like how in fanfic the dca can detect injuries and heart rate?

5) do they want to return to "normal"? Can they return to normal?  (how did they get like that in the first place. I'm still looking 👁️👁️)

7) how old are they? How many years have passed from their daycare time? How would they react if someone mentioned the topic? do you have some of your (delicious) angst at hand?

8) are there others like them? 🌚

9) moon can sing. Why he not sing. Me want moon sing.

10) they have access to a PC and internet. What do they do online? Do they try to interact with others? Do they play games? If yes, what genre do they like?

And last but not least: how was your day? Did you have nice holidays? :D

Sorry for the long ask but I might return (eventually) with more questions >:)))

Hi!!! Haven't seen you in so long!

1. It is a bit difficult to find something- anything- that will fit them, so the only thing they can do is properly fix the clothes they have. So yes, you definitely will end up taking care of their outfits and even spend a bit of time to teach Sun and Moon how to take care of them themselves.

2. Oh they wish they could renew their energy by charging.

3. All I can say as of now, the "episode" has happened because of Moon's own negligence, what exactly has happened is yet to be discussed.

4. They smell the blood, but not in the exact same way human sense of smell works. It is more of its own separate sense, disturbance in the force if you will haha. The word "feel" would fit a bit better. Like humans can feel change in temperature, they can feel blood... even if it's in a vessel.

5. :)

6. It's been less than a decade.

7. Not that they know of...

8. His lullabies were always reserved for people he cares about, when he's happy or peaceful. None of these things are the case as of now :(

9. They prefer to limit their Internet activity to a minimum, for their own reasons. But if they do use it, only as observers. And to play offline games. Like Stardew walley. They fight over it a lot. Sun even has a little notebook where he keeps quite detailed notes on how to "properly and more effectively" play the game. Moon wants to flush that thing down the drain so badly...

And as for me - I'm unfortunately spending my holidays sick<///3 I had some very tasty food tho jsjsj hope yours are better!!

Also I love long asks!! Especially when I know I can give an answer hehe. Do return :)

[galaxyseclipse]

man I’m really bad at doing these on time lol

anyway, combining days two and three(and arguably four) into one because yea :3c

and this one comes with a little doodle as well

—————

Day 2 and Day 3: Cold and Scars

Ivory walked inside the house and quickly closed the door. She hummed her usual greeting as she stamped the snow off of her shoes. She waited for her fiancé’s whistle from the kitchen, but there was no response.

She probably has her headphones on still, it is earlier than usual.

She took her shoes off and left them on the mat near the door. Her hat came off next, releasing the ends of her tentacles. It and her coat were hung up on the rack on the wall and she finally left the doorway.

Ivory walked upstairs to their office. Surprisingly, the door was open, but they weren’t in there. The nearby bathroom was also seemingly empty. She checked the spare room as well before heading back downstairs.

After looking in the kitchen a second time, she finally went into the bedroom. Tsunami was lying on the bed, asleep. Somehow she hadn’t heard her calling for her and woken up.

Do I wake her? But she looks so peaceful and cute like that… I could just get in bed with her, I’m still really cold…

Ivory quickly changed out of her work clothes and climbed into the bed, next to the sleeping squid. They rolled onto their back and she got an idea for how she could warm back up even faster. She morphed into her octopus form and delicately crawled underneath their shirt to lay directly on their stomach. She curled all of her arms around themselves to get as much of her body under there as possible. Shockingly, they still didn’t wake up.

They must be really asleep… either that or I do this more often than I think I do

Watching their chest rise and fall with their breaths and listening to their heartbeats almost put her to sleep as well, not to mention how much warmer it was down there. She wanted to stay awake, though, just in case they rolled over again.

To distract herself from her sleepiness, Ivory studied her new surroundings. The shirt over her was one of Tsunami’s favorite grey sweatshirts. They always wore this one on days when they weren’t planning to leave the house, such as today.

Underneath her was their stomach; strong and muscular, but with just the right amount of “squish” as they called it. The skin was littered with markings from various battles, both ink and not ink-related. The fresher and deeper ones were much darker and more noticeable. The stains from multiple skirmishes in turf wars coloring their skin made it like a morbid mural. For some reason, though, the ones that weren’t from ink battles interested her more. Something about the animalistic scratches and bite marks was incredibly appealing —if not attractive— to her. Unfortunately it was hard to tell which ones she had made from the ones others had put there before her.

She didn’t notice she was running her tentacles along some of the marks until her fiancé moved again and grumbled.

“What the… What’s…” the collar of the shirt was lifted. “Vee, what are you… what time is it?” It was dropped again and they moved to probably grab their phone. “Why are you back so early?” They shuffled to sit up against the pillows.

Ivory crawled to poke her face out of the shirt’s collar. “Heater broke, couldn’t take it anymore…” she answered pitifully. “It’s too cold out… can I stay in here?”

Tsunami hummed playfully for a second. “Fine, I guess. But stop rubbin’ me like that, please.”

—————

ugh, idk if I’ll be able to get through everything else within the week

creative juices went down the drain like the instant I started this lol

[pretend-theres-a-name-here]

I thought it could be cool to do like Jayce hanging out with Caitlyn, with the discussion turning to relationships and Jayce's feelings towards Viktor, possibly set during the episode 3 - episode 4 time skip.

Thanks for the suggestion!

A Realization

“He’s like my brother!” Jayce defended, and it wasn’t weak, it wasn’t.

It was the second time he’s had to tell Caitlyn that and she didn’t seem convinced. If you asked him how he found himself trapped in a debate about his own feelings he wouldn’t know what to tell you.

They were having their monthly night in, a time they both booked and set aside to curl up on Jayce’s couch, watch cheesy dramedies that neither would tell another soul they liked, eat pizza like their life depended on it and spend time together. Lately, the conversation has been turning to Jayce’s love life, or lack thereof, and Caitlyn was really pushing tonight. 

Every time she asked about his par—friend, a ‘how’s Viktor?’ sang way too suggestively in his opinion, he’d tell her it wasn’t like that. They were just partners, colleagues, friends, that was it. That was all they could be.

“Jayce, you’re like my brother,” Caitlyn grabbed his shoulders, forcing him to look at her, “I don’t feel this way about you, do you feel this way about me?” 

“W—I—I mean no, but that’s…that’s not…It’s different.” Ok maybe that was his only defense and maybe she had just completely disarmed him but that didn’t mean anything—that didn’t change anything!

Jayce was…fond of Viktor, of course he was, how could he not be when he spent nearly every day with him? When he sat back and just watched Viktor work, hunched over his desk or leaning against the whiteboard because he was too stubborn to reach for his cane, so determined on their dream.

Caitlyn was still holding on to him, “How’s it different, Jayce? Why is it different?”

Jayce thought about all the reasons it was the same, the instinct to protect him the same way he would Cait, the bond that formed so quickly after breaking into Heimerdinger’s office, but even that didn’t feel how it did with Caitlyn. So, he thought about all the ways it was different.

He thought about coming back to the lab late at night and finding Viktor passed out on his desk, walking him back to his room or guiding him to the couch when he wasn’t fully awake despite his insistence that he was fine and could keep working, how Viktor would push him away with no real intent behind the action but allow Jayce to help him anyway. He thought about the way Viktor laughed when they made a breakthrough and then thought about why his stomach flipped at the sound. He thought about how he had memorized Viktor’s voice without meaning to and how he was just waiting to hear it again every time they were apart.

When he looked up again, not even halfway through the list of ways this thing with Viktor was so different, special, he saw Caitlyn looking down at him with a knowing smile.

He sighed, flopping back against the couch and letting himself fall into her lap, “I think I like Viktor.” He mumbled, pulling a throw pillow over his face.

He felt her laugh, “I know.”

Jayce didn’t think this conversation would go anywhere in the future, no hope that the other man felt even a fraction of what he did, but he would find himself sitting in the same spot with the same girl, telling her all about their first date, their first ‘I love you’s. She would be the first to know all that happened, ‘a best friend’s right’ as she called it.

And later, on another monthly sleepover, he would show Caitlyn the ring tucked in a velvet box, hidden in his pocket for when the time was right.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just a short one for this morning, if you’d like to make a request and help me out of writers block THIS is a list of what I write for.