#i’ve never been more motivated to write do you see the problem

[elendsessor]

yakumo stabbing nuwa to prove he’s not a hypocrite only for nuwa to go “awww you’re so silly i love you too :D” is the funniest thing but he also probably apologized a billion times afterwards

[peapod20001]

I’m the type that can and will cry if think too hard <3

[reyalvr]

SHE'S MINE | 01

I'M ALL IN, I CAN'T REVERSE IT-

synopsis ┊ thrust into the spotlight, ken sato had easily become the next big thing tokyo had seen in decades. alongside his fame came the inevitable string of rumors, of which sprung forth scandals and discrediting information against his image. of course the obvious and most rational solution would be to address them like every other celebrity, but this was ken sato; nothing would ever be rational with him, which is how you wound up with a ring on your finger and the sato name in your papers. 

genre ┊ fake dating, fake marriage, idiots-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, slight angst, chaotic fluff, mild smut

pairing ┊ ken sato x fem-PA!reader, ken sato x fake-wife!reader

warnings ┊ mild cursing, eventual smut, mentions of alcohol, all events in ultraman: rising take place a year after kenji moves back to japan

word count ┊  3.2k

author’s note ┊ WOOHOO part one finally out! thank you so much for all the love on the prologue, it made me so motivated to make this as good as possible hehe >.< each chapter title is based off of a lyric in my writing playlist for this series, lmk if you guys would like me to drop it  ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶. happy reading!

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KEN KNEW HE WAS IN DEEP SHIT. Knee deep, even. If you asked him what was going through his head thirty seconds ago, he wouldn’t be able to tell you even if he wanted to. Everything that happened next was a blur- from shaking hands with the host to walking back to his dressing room, it felt like he was operating on autopilot. Who wouldn’t be, though? He had just announced to the world that he was officially taken; that he was off the market- hooked. Of course, it wouldn’t have been a problem if it were true…

But it wasn’t. 

He had just lied to an audience of a hundred people- not to mention the millions throughout the various streaming platforms the show was being aired on. His nails dug into his palm as he neared his dressing room, the bold, black letters of his name growing larger and larger each step he took. His heart was pounding, and he swore he felt chill down his spine the moment he opened the door. No one could blame him though, not if they knew the inevitable wrath they were about to face. 

You were stood there, eyes narrowed and resting all your weight on your hip. Your arms were crossed, your lips were pursed. The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, staring at each other as you waited for the other to speak up. Ken swallowed nervously, tapping his foot as he tried formulating an explanation. He wasn’t entirely sure as to why he was so overstrung, it was just you. Why should he be terrified of your scolding on his recent screw up? 

“Special someone, huh?” You said through your teeth, finally breaking the tense silence in the room. “So special that nobody on your team knew of her prior to your public love confession?” 

Ah. That was why. The way you were able to see right through him scared him sometimes. He never outwardly showed his reactions, though- at least he tried not to. He cleared his throat before finally moving to plop down on the couch, doing his damndest not to show his jitters. 

“Yeah, yeah whatever. I lied, so what?” He replied, his cocky tone masking the unsureness in his words. “It’s not the first time I’ve done it.” 

Strike one. As if you couldn’t have been any more pissed off, that seemed to be the tipping point. You paused before letting out a deep breath, circling around him. He closed his eyes when he knew you were behind him, and he waited for you to berate him; to remind him of the consequences of his actions. He waited, but it never came. He opened one eye, and he relaxed when you moved to sit on the opposite couch. He was spared… for now.

“What, no scolding?” He decided to test, tilting his head to the side as he watched you. 

You only let out a small laugh, and somehow that was worse than any scolding he’d ever received from you. You were oddly calm, like all your anger had just melted away. Leaning forward, you slid an enclosed piece of paper across the table towards him. 

“Can you guess what this is, Ken?” You ask, your eyes finally looking back up to meet his. 

Ken knew not to answer. He was ready to spit out some witty reply, but the look in your eyes told him that this was going to go down another route; one that he definitely didn’t want to aggravate. 

“It’s my resignation letter.” You say nonchalantly, causing him to straighten up once more. “I keep it handy.”

Resignation letter? Was this real? Were you actually going to quit over this? He opened his mouth to speak up but quickly shut it when you maintained your soul-searching gaze. He tried to relax, yet the furrow in his eyebrows seemed to stay as you continued on. 

“I’m going to be very clear on what’s going to happen next, Ken.” You say, resting your arms on your knees. “This will be the last time I help you clear up a mishap. After everything is settled, I’m gone.” 

Gone. His eyes widened slightly, the palms of his hands starting to get clammy. He let out a light, nervous laugh, looking at you as if you had just said something absurd. Which, in his defense, you sort of did. Again, he had no idea why this news was so shocking to him, seeing as you’d only worked under him for a year and a half. Surely he couldn’t have been that terrible, right? He stared at the folded paper in front of him before speaking up.

“What, uh, what do you mean gone?” He asked through a breathy laugh. “Gone like a break or something? I’m happy to give you one-”

“Gone as in I quit.” You cut him off, standing up as you adjusted the sleeves of your shirt. “Like I said, this is the last time I clean up your mess, Ken Sato.” 

You moved to walk away, but he quickly caught your arm. “Woah, hold on a sec,” He stood up, looking down at you with stunned eyes. “Quit? C’mon, [Y/N] I know I screwed up but you can’t just leave me hanging like this-” 

You scoffed at him then, yanking your arm out of his grasp. “Oh I can’t leave you hanging, huh? Tell me, Ken, how many times have I saved your ass in the last eighteen months I’ve been working for you, hm?”

He swallowed dryly as he tried to recall. He was used to having his name on headlines, most especially after his move last year. He couldn’t go five seconds without seeing his ads pop up on his platforms, hell he couldn’t even go five blocks without seeing a billboard with his face on it. Which all brought him back to one thing: not one negative scandal under his name. With you, he was perfect; jack of all trades in the MLB and the internet’s favorite spokesperson. 

Shit. Strike two. 

You only hummed in response once you read over his expression. “Exactly. So the next time you even think about downplaying my job, remember how I was the reason for your recent success.”

Ken was at a loss for words. Rarely was he ever left speechless, he always seemed to have a response ready for anything. But now was definitely not one of those times. He watched as you bent down to retrieve that dreaded letter, and you shoved it into his chest before moving to finally walk past him. 

“Our flight leaves tomorrow at five a.m, I'll see you in the lobby at three.” You say, not so much as sparing him a glance as you fixed your bag. 

He managed to let out a quiet ‘okay’, gripping onto your letter tightly as he watched you pack up. Damn Ken, you really did it this time, didn’t you? He thought to himself, wondering how- or rather, if he would be able to make things right with you. For the first time in his career, he was thinking about someone else other than himself. 

“Oh and Ken,” You say, breaking him out of his dazed stance. 

“Hm?” He hummed out, averting his gaze to be level with yours. 

“You had better pray that the next assistant you get is half as good as I am.” You said before closing the door, leaving him alone in his dressing room. All of a sudden it felt… quiet. Too quiet. He sighed, dropping down on the couch once more before closing his eyes and masking his face with his hands.

Strike three. 

THE TENSION IN THE CAR WAS PAINSTAKINGLY PALPABLE. Ken’s leg bounced as the two of you were stuck in airport traffic, the car unmoving for nearly half an hour now. Your occasional sighs and the hum of the car’s engine were the only sounds filling the air. He felt like he was going crazy. He hadn’t been able to sleep properly the night before thanks to your bombshell of an announcement. In comparison, though, he probably shouldn’t be complaining about bombshells when he himself dropped one twice the size of yours. 

Still, he was restless. You hadn’t uttered a single word to him since landing back in Tokyo, and the unwanted solitude was driving him nuts. He glanced over at you through his shades, noting the way you were impatiently tapping your fingers against the wheel. Obviously you were still pissed at his little stunt, and the articles following the incident didn’t aid in calming your anger. 

He knew it wasn’t smart, but he needed to talk to you. The sea of red lights in front of him remained stagnant, and he didn’t want to spend another minute in this deafening quietude. He gnawed at his bottom lip before finally breaking the silence. 

“Can we talk?” He said, looking over at you. 

“No.” You replied bluntly.

“[Y/N]-” He started, but one glance from you was enough to shut him up. 

“I am doing you a huge favor by helping you solve the mess you created.” You said as you looked back at the road ahead of you, lifting your fingers and circling your thumbs around the wheel. “I could’ve left right then and there, leaving you to deal with this on your own. But I didn’t, I don’t know why, but I didn’t.”

You looked back up at him, and only now did he notice the circles under your eyes and the paleness of your complexion. Something inside him twisted; he couldn’t tell if it was guilt or regret. Guilt, probably, for having to rely on you to correct his mistakes, and regret for even causing this whole debacle in the first place. 

“The least I’m asking from you is your compliance.” You say tiredly, the glint in your eyes doing most of the talking. 

“Yeah, okay. Sorry.” He managed to get out, leaning back into the passenger seat. 

And just like that, the dreaded silence was back. By some miracle the traffic started to gain some speed, the taillights of the cars ahead of him dispersing onto the road. His head hit the back of the headrest, and he sat through the entire ride back to the Tokyo Dome contemplating his recent choices. 

It was only when you knocked on the window of the passenger side when he realized he had finally reached his destination. He got out, stretching his limbs after being cramped inside the car for so long. He threw on his jacket lazily, not even bothering to zip it up. He went to put on his cap, but then he noticed something odd. 

It was quiet outside the building, the bristle of the trees and the nearby roads the only sound filling his ears. There was something lacking; the neverending shuttering sounds of cameras and eager voices yelling at him to look or to say something. He realized then the lack of paparazzi and reporters outside to greet him, just like they usually did whenever he came back from a trip. His head turned, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked around. Not a single one in sight.

“‘Something wrong?” You asked as you walked past him to swipe your ID into the security system. 

“It’s just,” He said, still looking around in confusion. He let out an airy laugh as he followed you inside, the expression on his face remaining the same. “There’s no paps or anything.”

At that you laugh, albeit sarcastically, waiting for him to get into the elevator. “You know that might be the first time I’ve ever heard a famous person complain about not being bombarded by ill-intent people.” 

“I’m not complaining, trust me.” He says, putting his hands up halfway in defense. “It’s weird. That’s all.” 

“Well that’s what happens when people think you’re spending time with your special someone after being away for so long.” You say, pulling up a press announcement on your phone. 

For a split second, Kenji had completely forgotten that he had to keep up the fact that he supposedly had a significant other waiting for him at home. He let out an ‘ah’, sliding his hands into his pockets as the elevator went up. Again his heart panged, finally realizing why your eyebags were deeper than they usually were. While he may have had discomfort in his slumber, it didn’t compare to the hours you were up trying to get everything settled here.

You held the door open to your office, letting him in first. Once the lights were on, he was greeted with your infamous whiteboard, different scribbles of colorful ink filling up the space corner to corner. He cringed at the bolded date of the talk show he was on. 

“Your bags will be sent here in the next hour, and valet has your bike ready.” You say, doing the usual routine you did whenever the both of you came back from work trips. He sat down on the sofa, nodding each time you reminded him of something. 

“Now, about the issue,” You walk over to the whiteboard, erasing its contents. “We need to find you a fake girlfriend.” 

He choked on nothing, not surprised by the news but surprised by the continued bluntness of your tone. “I beg your pardon?”

“We need to find you a fake girlfriend.” You repeated, emphasizing the words obnoxiously. 

“Yeah I get that,” He finally replied, a look of uncertainty splashing his features. “But you’re making it sound like all we need to do is shop around.”

“Well unless you can give me a face, let alone a name to your special someone, this is the plan we have.” You retort, resting a hand at your hip as the other points at the board. 

“Why can’t I just be one of those celebrities who keep their relationship private?” He questions genuinely. 

“Oh I’m sorry, who was the one who announced that they were in love on live television?” You remind him, annoyance laced in your words. 

He bites back any sort of sarcastic remark that conjures up in the back of his head. You were right, obviously you were right. But some part of him felt it was… unfair to not have a say in this. Stupid, yes, but it’s how he felt.

“Can I continue or is there anything else you want to unnecessarily add?” You ask, looking at him with an eyebrow raised. 

He only lifted a hand, signaling for you to carry on. You go on to explain that whoever ends up “dating” him will need to have to go through a contract signing, NDA included. You draw up charts on your board, showing him the possible stats of his ratings if he’ll be able to pull this off. 

“Your next playoff season is about to start, I suggest we get all this settled by then.” You scroll on your smartwatch, looking at the calendar. “It gives me two weeks to plan everything out. I need you here tomorrow bright and early so that we can go through a list of potential candidates.”

“Candidates? What is this, speed-dating?” He says, making a face at all the analytical parts of your plan. 

“No, it’s a game called ‘save-my-reputation.’” You answer snarkily, narrowing your eyes slightly at him. 

He takes in a deep breath, starting to get annoyed with your remarks. He knew he had no right to, but to think that you were just dictating away at his choices made him feel like some sort of plaything. 

“I just don’t understand why we even need to find a ‘girlfriend’ in the first place.” He massages the back of his head before crossing his arms. “I mean everyone thinks I’ve successfully hidden my love life up until now, what’s the point of going all out?”

He could see you clench your fingers around the marker, and he knew he was close to reaching your tipping once more. All in the span of twenty-four hours. You pinched the bridge of your nose before you spoke up.

“Ken. You told the world that you were in love.” You say in an eerily calm tone. “You got yourself into this mess, now you have to get yourself out of it. And unless you want to say goodbye to your stardom, this is what you need to do.” 

He opened his mouth to speak up but was cut off by your phone’s ringing. You answered, spewing out a quick and formal ‘thank you’ to whoever was on the other line. You sighed, placing your marker back down on your desk before you walked past him towards the glass door. 

“Your bags are here.” You say, opening the door. “Your bike’s parked outside and everything should be good to go.” 

Your demeanor had changed in a split second, going from PR manager to assistant in the blink of an eye. At times Ken wondered how you were able to juggle everything. It wasn’t the main thing that was on his mind, he had… other, more serious things to worry about. Like the other secret he had kept from you all this time; Ultraman. He shook his head, trying not to focus on his double life on top of the situation he was in. 

Ken knew that your words were a sign to get up and get out, and he did just that. You followed him all the way back down to the lobby of the stadium, handing him his duffel bag and walking him to his bike. Despite your earlier mood, you did your checks on his motorbike that he had grown accustomed to after a while. 

“Tomorrow, bright and early.” You remind him, crossing your arms as he got on his bike. “Please.”

“Tomorrow, bright and early.” He repeats through a huff, slinging his bag into the compartment attached to the back of his motorbike. “Got it.” 

You only hummed in response, turning away to walk back into the stadium. He didn’t know what it was that came over him, but before he knew it he was grabbing your arm softly once more. Your head spun around to look at him, more of your stray hairs spilling out of your updo. At this angle the sunset brought out the shininess of your eyes, the early evening shadows accentuating your features. 

He swallowed before he continued. “You know for what it’s worth, I really am sorry.” 

Instead of another curt response, though, you sighed as you pressed your lips together. He lets go of your arm then, not wanting to invade anymore of your personal space than he already has. He can see you poke your tongue into your cheek, a habit you did when you were in contemplation. 

“Well,” You finally breathe out, your expression relaxing. “If you’re actually as sorry as you say you are, you’ll do as I say.” 

“‘Course.” He says before his face gets obscured by his helmet. He nods towards your direction once more before finally revving the engine. 

Only time will tell what the outcome is, but whatever it is, he hopes he ends up in the one where you don’t loathe his very being. 

reyalvr © 2024 … do not repost, alter, or steal my work.

tags┊@mochminnie, @rreasonablydumbb, @sincerest-one, @fruticake, @lunaryasha, @lovingyeet, @sugacor3, @arrozyfrijoles23, @fennecspage, @mmeerraa, @azryaa, @akiradailylifes, @montybooks, @mmv-ymvm, @hore4ken, @greeniegreengreen, @meikoo, @random-3455, @todaywasafairytale07, @mythicalmoa, @imafangirlofeverything, @astylos, @vynwan-cbq, @rosegiyanabing, @icedberrytea, @ken-zah, @letharue, @chi222, @flooftoof, @c4ttheart, @ymrai, @stxrrielle, @alpha-mommy69, @ewitscat, @lightsinmycity, @furblrwurblr, @ayamago, @sugururawr, @secretlyapartofthisfandom @shellspider, @oh-kurva, @noraimp

[bruhnze]

Actual goals AF - LUCY x ONA

This fic is brought to you by the inspiration I got watching the Chelsea – Crystal Palace game. Lucy’s goal truly moved me. Or maybe I was just in a little ✨mood✨ to write some smut, who knows.

warnings: smuttttttttt, also some fluff.

summary: post match facetime

words: about 2.4k

‘’Babyyyyyy.’’ Lucy shook her shoes off as she bursted in to her apartment, Ona on FaceTime, she had specifically waited to call her until she’d have some privacy. But in the elevator up to her apartment she couldn’t hold her excitement anymore.

‘’Luce.’’ Ona giggled, seeing the chin of her lover. ‘’beautiful goal, very cool, very casual.’’

‘’Mhm.’’ Lucy smirked, finally looking in to the camera as she had shedded her coat off somewhere in the hallway too. ‘’That’s actually why I called you baby.’’

‘’Is that so.’’ Ona said, chuckling, rolling her eyes. She knew all too well what their traditions where regarding goals, assists, sometimes tackles. Lucy playing good meant, Lucy feeling good, Lucy feeling good meant Lucy getting in a certain mood. She had never complained about it ever, oh no, fucking with a post-match euphoric horny Lucy was one of the best things this earth had to offer and it was all for her. She loved it.

‘’Did you watch the game.’’ Lucy asked excitedly, wondering off to her bedroom.

‘’Mhm, ofcourse.’’ Ona shook her head, ‘’I just told you your goal was a very good goal.’’

‘’Do you remember that match we both scored?’’ Lucy trailed off, ‘’That was-

-yes Luce.’’ Ona interrupted her girlfriend, ‘’I remember perfectly, I’d say our best performance yet.’’

Lucy narrowed her eyes, the game had been nothing special, a bad game maybe even, there had been six goals made that match.

‘’No, I’m not talking about football performance.’’ Ona rolled her eyes. ‘’And don’t act so surprised, you started this call and your motives are very clear.’’ She said sternly as Lucy dropped herself on her bed.

‘’Motives?’’ Lucy smirked, ‘’I can’t call my girlfriend after I’ve scored.’’

‘’You would’ve called me straight away in the car.’’

‘’Maybe I wanted to listen some music, maybe I didn’t have my phone connected to the car and I didn’t want to text and drive.’’

‘’Maybe you waited until you were home so you could have phone sex.’’

Lucy’s eyes widened at Ona’s bluntness, ‘’I-.’’

‘’Ohhh, sorry I totally misinterpreted.’’ Ona said cheekily, changing from sitting against the headboard to laying on her stomach, kicking her feet in the air as she bit her lip looking at Lucy on her screen. ‘’Tell me about the game then.’’

‘’Phone sex.’’ Lucy repeated, seemingly the only words she had picked up. ‘’Well if you want that.’’

Ona rolled her eyes, ‘’don’t turn this all on me now.’’

‘’You’re right,’’ Lucy chuckled and sat up straighter, ‘’I wish we were in the same room right now so fucking bad.’’

‘’Oh yeah?’’

‘’Mhm,’’ Lucy groaned from the thought alone, she had some very vivid memories coming to the front of her brain all of a sudden, she shifted and started kicking her trousers down, ‘’but since I’m not there,’’ she shifted getting the pants past her ankles, ‘’you can maybe get some stuff out.’’ She boldly suggested.

‘’Stuff?’’ Ona chuckled, she had always found Lucy’s prudeness funny, for someone who did so many unholy things she had suspiciously much problems with calling things by their name. She herself was very openminded, very comfortable around the topic. Sometimes she even thought talking about sex was the most important part about sleeping with someone.

‘’Uh yeah.’’ Lucy scratched her neck, ‘’get the, uh.’’ Her cheeks flushed, she cleared her throat, ‘’get some toys, uhm.’’

Ona looked back at Lucy with an unfazed smile, ‘’which ones, love?’’ she said with a little smirk.

‘’The one I bought you most recently,’’ Lucy started, a little more certain, already getting wet about the thrill of seeing Ona ride the thick silicone dildo, possibly sooner rather then later. ‘’And a vibe.’’ She added after some quick thought.

Ona chuckled, ‘’mkay.’’ She shuffled and Lucy saw nothing more then a little forehead, a little ceiling, a little shoulder as Ona rummaged through the drawer.

‘’Okay lay them on the bed, and now first undress.’’ Lucy said, her eyes fixed on her iPhone, ‘’put the phone up on the nightstand, show me baby.’’

‘’Mhmmm, a performance for a performance.’’ Ona said as she propped her phone up against a stack of books she had yet to read.

Ona giggled, ‘’guess you deserve it after that performance, hm?’’

"Yeah because i did so well tonight"

‘’You’re so sexy, I miss you so much.’’ Lucy said as she watched Ona undress.

She watched intently as Ona sensually undid herself from her clothes. It didn’t take long until she was just in her panties as she hadn’t been wearing much.

Lucy’s breath hitched at the sight of Ona standing there, clad only in her panties, her skin glowing under the soft light of her bedroom. Ona smiled knowingly, that playful smirk Lucy loved so much.

“You like what you see, don’t you?” Ona teased, running a finger along the waistband of her panties.

Lucy swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. "You know I do, baby. Now, why don’t you get rid of the rest? Slowly."

Ona bit her lip, loving the control she held over her even through the screen. She hooked her thumbs into her panties and slid them down her hips, drawing the moment out, knowing exactly how to keep Lucy hanging on every movement.

Lucy’s hand drifted down between her own thighs, her fingers brushing over the wetness that had been building since they started talking. “Fuck, Ona, you’re so hot. I need you so bad. I need you right now.”

Ona chuckled softly, her hands roaming over her own body, teasing herself with light touches, grazing her fingertips over her stomach and up to her breasts. She lingered there, squeezing softly, knowing how much Lucy loved watching her play with herself.

Her body was already starting to respond, her skin warming under her own touch. Her fingers drifted lower, brushing the inside of her thighs, making her hips shift. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

Lucy groaned in frustration, her eyes locked on the screen, watching as Ona’s hand slowly crept closer to where she wanted to be, to where she wanted to have her mouth, her fingers, her strap. Ona’s fingers slipped between her legs, grazing over her folds as she bit her lip, letting out a small sigh that made Lucy’s pulse race. Lucy could see the glistening wetness on her fingertips, the subtle shiver that ran through Ona’s body at her own touch, and it drove her crazy.

Lucy’s chest rose and fell with labored breaths, her fingers already wet from her own arousal. “So fucking hot,” she muttered, eyes glued to the screen. “Now grab the vibe.”

Ona’s lips parted slightly, excitement flashing across her face as she reached for the small vibrator, holding it up for Lucy to see. She pressed it against her inner thigh first, letting the vibrations tease her as she rolled her hips forward. Lucy’s breath hitched, watching intently as Ona played with herself, her body responding to the vibrations before she even touched her clit.

"Fuck, Ona, you’re driving me insane," Lucy groaned, her own body arching slightly in response to the sight. "Now... put it where I know you need it."

Ona bit her lip, slowly moving the vibrator between her legs, letting it hover just above her clit, teasing herself, and Lucy, for a few more moments. Then, with a shaky breath, she pressed it against her clit, her hips jerking as the pleasure shot through her. A soft moan escaped her lips as her eyes fluttered shut, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through her body.

“Ona…” Lucy’s voice was strained, desperate, her self-control slipping. She bit her lip, trying to regain some composure as her own hand mimicked the motions on her own body. Fuck a build-up she thought. “Pick up the dildo,” she instructed, her voice dropping low and husky. “I want you to use it, ride it for me.”

Ona looked at her phone a little desperate, she was just getting started.

‘’You look so pretty riding it.’’ Lucy cooed, ‘’Please baby, show me how pretty you are.’’

She put the vibrator off and tossed it further onto the bed. She reached over, grabbing the other toy and positioned herself at the edge of the bed, making sure Lucy had the perfect view by turning her phone a little bit. “Like this?” she asked, her voice dripping with sweetness, teasing as she climbed over the silicone length, lowering herself slowly until the tip barely touched her entrance.

Lucy’s fingers moved faster against herself as she watched, her heart racing. “Fuck, yes. Just like that. I want to see you take it all.”

Ona didn’t need to be told twice. She slowly sank down onto the dildo, her head falling back with a soft moan as she felt it stretch her. Lucy’s breath hitched, her eyes glued to the screen as Ona began to move, rolling her hips in a slow, deliberate rhythm.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Lucy groaned, her body trembling with need. She could feel herself getting closer, the sight of Ona riding the toy pushing her over the edge. “Touch yourself for me, baby. I want to see you cum.”

Ona’s hand slid between her legs again, finding her clit as she rode the toy, her hips moving in slow, deliberate circles. The sensation of the dildo filling her deeply, combined with the teasing circles on her sensitive clit, made her gasp, her moans filling the room as she followed Lucy’s command. The pleasure built quickly, her body tingling with the intensity of it, her legs shaking slightly as she rocked against the toy.

Lucy’s eyes were half-lidded, her own pleasure nearing its peak. “That’s it, Ona. Let me hear you, baby.”

Ona’s moans grew louder, her body shaking as she rode the toy harder, her fingers working her clit in fast circles. “L-Lucy,” she panted, her voice breaking.

Ona’s breath was ragged, her body teetering on the edge. “L-Lucy... it feels so good,” she whimpered, her voice breaking with the intensity of it. Her fingers moved faster against her clit as she quickened her pace, the toy filling her deeply with each roll of her hips. “I’m so close...”

Lucy’s breath came in short gasps as her own climax built to a crescendo. “Cum with me, Ona,” she whispered, her fingers moving faster. “Cum f-for me.”

That was all it took. Ona’s body tensed, her back arching as the orgasm crashed over her, her moans spilling out freely. The sight of Ona coming undone was too much for Lucy, she followed her over the edge, her own body shaking as waves of pleasure pulsed through her.

For a moment, neither of them could speak, the only sound filling the air was their heavy breathing. Ona slumped forward, resting on her arms as she caught her breath, a satisfied smile on her face.

As the waves of pleasure finally subsided, both Lucy and Ona remained in a blissful, breathless haze. Ona collapsed back onto her bed, her body still tingling, while Lucy lay sprawled out on her own, her heart slowly returning to a normal rhythm.

“Baby,” Ona murmured, still catching her breath, her voice gentle and affectionate. “You okay?”

Lucy, flushed and exhausted, managed a soft chuckle. “Hmm, better than okay,” she replied, her voice raspy from the intensity of it all. “You… you’re incredible, Ona.”

Ona smiled softly, her fingers absentmindedly tracing circles on her stomach as she basked in the afterglow. “You too, Luce. I wish I could hold you right now.”

“God, me too,” Lucy sighed, the reality of the distance hitting her again now that the euphoria had passed. She propped herself up on her elbow, looking at Ona’s face on the screen. “Soon though, yeah? We’ll be together soon.”

Ona nodded, her eyes softening. “Mhm,” she agreed, with a short hum. She reached for her phone, settling into a more comfortable position, her head resting on her pillow. “But for now, let’s just stay like this. I want you here with me… even if it’s through the phone.”

“Yeah,” Lucy agreed, her voice quieter now, as if the vulnerability of the moment had calmed her completely. She mirrored Ona’s movement, laying back on her own pillow, holding her phone close to her face. “Me too.”

They lay there in comfortable silence for a few moments, just the sounds of their soft breathing filling the space between them. There was no need for words, just the quiet intimacy of being connected, of feeling each other's presence even across the distance.

“Hey,” Lucy whispered after a while, her voice thick with sleepiness. “Did I tell you I love you today?”

Ona giggled softly, her eyes closing as the warmth of Lucy’s voice lulled her. “You might’ve, but I wouldn’t mind hearing it again.”

“I love you, Ona,” Lucy said, her voice full of sincerity, a smile tugging at her lips despite her tiredness. ''I love you so, so much.''

“I love you too, Lucy,” Ona whispered back.

They continued to talk in soft murmurs, sharing gentle words of affection and reassurances of their love, the exhaustion from their long day and intense moment slowly catching up to them.

Lucy’s voice became softer and slower with each word, and soon enough, Ona could hear the steady rhythm of her breathing, knowing Lucy had finally drifted off to sleep. A smile spread across Ona’s face as she watched her lover sleep through the screen, feeling an overwhelming sense of peace.

“Goodnight, my love,” she whispered, not expecting a response. She cuddled up to her own pillow, her phone still resting besides her.

Within moments, she also fell into a deep, peaceful sleep, the two of them connected by the soft glow of their phones.

Their hearts were fully intertwined even if they were miles apart.

//

yupp

[ecoterrorist-katara]

“Katara deserves a quiet life after the war, so becoming a healer (who made no contributions to the field) is actually a good arc!”

It is already bizarre to me that in ATLA, Katara is this confident & combative & ambitious girl who LOVED to fight and wanted nothing more than to help as many people as possible…then comics!Katara and TLOK!Katara showed neither her previous personality traits nor a career commensurate with those traits…

but it’s even more bizarre to me that ATLA fans would defend her trajectory as if it were some kind of progressive story of recovering from war trauma.

I’ve seen multiple takes like this. “Katara is not a YA heroine, she’s not a bloodthirsty girlboss who loves fighting so it’s actually a good thing that she doesn’t have to fight anymore” “after everything she’s been through she deserves a quiet life and a loving family”

For Katara, fighting in the war was actually empowering. It didn’t burn her out. It didn’t disillusion her. It didn’t take more out of her than she can give. Katara is not Katniss Everdeen, who needed to step back and discover her own agency and a sense of peace after fighting in a war she never chose to start. Katara’s war trauma largely happened before she took an active part in it. After she chose to be a part of the war, she became a waterbending master, made close friends, found her father again, got closure for her mother’s murder, defeated the Fire Lord, and met the love of her life. If Katara were a real person, maybe she’d be traumatized, but nowhere in the text of ATLA does she exhibit the sign that she’s tired of fighting on behalf of the world. If anything, she just got started.

If you take her post-ATLA arc at face value (vs as bad writing), it’s a tragedy of a woman who has learned to minimize her own relevance and her own power. In The Promise, she begins deferring serious decisions to Aang. She doesn’t even express a strong opinion about the fate of the entire colony of Yu Dao, or the fate of her friend Zuko. In North and South, she accepts Northern encroachment of the South in the name of progress. In TLOK we see her not as a politician or a chief, but rather as “the best healer” — albeit one who apparently never established a hospital, or trained acolytes of her own, or done anything to help people at scale, which she has always wanted to do. It’s even more egregious when you remember that in Jang Hui, she was not satisfied to simply heal the sick as the Painted Lady. She wanted to solve the root of the problem, so she cleaned the river and committed full-on ecoterrorism. Just because the war is over doesn’t mean she wants to stop helping people. In fact, the problem she addressed in Jang Hui is exactly the type of problem that would become more prevalent after the war ends, judging by the rapid industrialization between ATLA and LOK.

In the original ATLA, I think Katara is about as close to a power fantasy as you can get for a teenage girl, because she gets to be messy and goofy and powerful, even though she also had to perform a whole lot of emotional and domestic labour. But post-ATLA, she doesn’t get power and she doesn’t get to make a change. She gets love and a family. That’s it. And her grandkids don’t even remember her. Her friends and peers, on the other hand, were shown doing all sorts of super cool things like, you know, running the world they saved.

It’s not feminist to say that a female character deserves “rest” when she’s shown zero inclination that she wants a quiet life. Women who want a quiet life deserve to get it — I think Katniss’ arc is perfect — but women who want power deserve to get it too, especially when they’re motivated by compassion and a keen sense of justice. There’s nothing feminist about defending the early 2010s writing decisions of two men. Like just admit that they fucked up! It’s fine! Maybe they’ll do better in the future!

[finnbbl]

Hey, I saw your requests are open. Would you write something for 3Racha where something sad happens and the reader turns non-verbal to try and cope with it?

It's just a problem that I always have and I would like to know how you think the boys would react :)

3Racha when you’re nonverbal

3Racha Written

Prompt: Being friends with the main producers of a music group had its perks. But when you’re asked to accompany them a certain gathering, you hesitate when you figure out who will be there.

Genre: Angst/Comfort

Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Implications of trauma, alcohol and dr*g mention, I don’t think there’s any swearing, reader goes nonverbal.

A/N: I wanted to first start off by saying I apologize it took me a bit to get out. I’ve been in my own slump and I’ve found it super hard to find motivation for anything, especially writing and posting.

I wasn’t sure if you wanted a specific incident to happen where the reader goes non verbal, so I hope this is okay. I also wasn’t sure if you wanted it romantic or not, so I just kind of wrote what felt right in the moment. I tried to leave the situation vague so it could match with anyone’s experiences. I personally don’t like it too much (I honestly hate my writing so it could just be that LOL) so I can make a separate post with a text version, of course it would be a little bit different than this. Please let me know your thoughts 🙏

Requests - OPEN

Masterlist

Please read disclaimer in masterlist

Parties were the absolute worst. If you were forced to choose a least favorite thing on the planet, parties would be it. They’re loud and crowded; Worst of all, he’s always there.

3Racha had been nominated for an award. They had been invited to a big award show, a one where afterparties usually follow. You were incredibly proud of them, knowing just how hard they worked. They meant the absolute world to you, and to see them put their best foot forward and exceed tipped you over the moon. Previously, you’d turn them down when they’d ask you to attend with them, and you had a very good reason. Firstly, parties just weren’t your thing. You never fit in with everyone else growing up. Secondly, you knew that he was going to be there. You didn’t know what to call him. Putting a label on things had never felt right to you before. If someone were to ask him, he’d tell them you were together. But if someone were to ask you, you’d say it was complicated and you were content with how things were. You did that with everyone that seemed to be more than friends with you, commitment was a scary thing. But you did know that he was someone you never wanted to be around ever again.

You remember the way he’d always ask you to accompany him to one. He was the partier in the “relationship.” However, you’d always preferred to stay in. Nice and cozy in your blankets. One night, you decided to try and get out of your comfort zone. You wore something different, and put effort into your appearance. The moment he let his hand “accidentally” linger over your ass was the first sign of a mistake. The night only went downhill from there. Next thing you knew you were drugged and taken advantage of. It took you months to recover, months to find the will to get out of bed. Only Chan out of the three knew of this incident, but only very very vaguely. He only found out because he was the one nursing you back to your normal self again. You avoided giving him details, he doesn’t know the person, time, nor the place. You wanted to stick to using being tired as an excuse to politely turn them down. There was no way you could let them find out that you were just too weak to attend said gathering, especially because they don’t know what happened.

You listened to the boys explain how excited they were for this one. How this was such a big award, and how it was going to be so much different. The excitement that laced their voices made it hard for you to deny the question you knew was coming. “Do you think you could go with us this time?” They knew the answer every time they asked this question. A hesitant no, almost as if you were thinking about it. In reality, your mind was fighting off bad memories. It was hard not to think of it when even the topic was brought up, there’s no way you could bring yourself to revisit the place it happened. He was always going to be there, just like he was at every one while you knew him. Again, parties were his thing. So you were confident no matter which one you attended, he would be there. You were scared, to say the least. Scared of seeing him, scared of being pushed back into that dark room, scared of reliving what had made you feel so lifeless.

However, Han’s unintentional puppy eyes drew you closer and closer to the edge. How you wanted to see them happy. You weren’t sure if it was only platonic or if there was some hint of romantic feelings for them there, but you knew you loved them so much. Although the three knew the usual answer, they still proceeded to ask. They felt as they should always invite you, even if they know what your answer would be. However, this time you surprised them. With a quick purse of your lips, the words fell from your mouth. “Fine, but only this once.” The way their faces lit up when you agreed to go to with them brought a smile to your face. Though it quickly dissipated as your brain grabbed back at those awful memories. The guys were too lost in excitement to notice, but you’d prefer it that way. Everyone else had their own problems, so you hated adding your own on top of them.

The last few nights leading up to the award ceremony were filled with anxiety. Sleepovers with Chan were a mutually agreed way to get both of your minds off of stress. However your anxiety still managed to claw its way through what was supposed to be a comforting barrier with him. Chan was next to you, fast asleep which was something that was rare for him. Meanwhile, you silently cried next to him. Hours passed and you were still unable to fall asleep, too busy fighting off the horrible memories. Horrible memories of a time in your life that left you numb. You couldn’t shake it, knowing that he was going to be there. He was a popular artist, and you’d already checked the lineup for the event. His name was there, and now you were petrified. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell them you changed your mind. They were so excited, so you dealt with it.

The night of the party arrived. You’d isolated yourself for the day, hoping to prepare yourself enough for what was about to come. Hours passed and next thing you knew you were sat between Chan and Changbin on a fancy couch. Despite it being a fancy event, Han sat on the back of the couch with his feet on either side of you, his hands slowly running through your hair. It was a common thing for you to do with the three, often being very touchy with each other. It was to the point where you questioned if you were more than friends. While you didn’t kiss, or do anything beyond that, you were very hands on. Cuddling, hugging, playing with each others hair or outfits, you name it. However, you couldn’t decipher whether it was platonic or if there was a hint of romance in there.

Suddenly, an all too familiar voice snapped you out of the peaceful thoughts that managed to distract you for.. at least a little while. Soon enough, your worst fear of the night happened. He placed himself on the couch right across from you guys. The first 20 minutes or so, he had the subtlety evil smirk on his face.

However, you knew it would dissipate sooner or later. Based on your experience with him, he was an extremely jealous person. And given, how important skin-ship was to you and the three boys, it was only a matter of time. It happened when Han noticed you were quieter all of the sudden. His fingers came to a slow stop in your hair to travel down to your shoulder. His head leaning down to your ear to whisper something.

“Are you alright, jagiya?”

It was quiet, quiet enough where only those within a 3 inch radius could hear. So you wonder why you saw that man who you feared, drop his smirk to a frown. Maybe he read Han’s lips and noticed the word ‘jagiya’ ? Either way, you ignored it, and with a nod and a small smile which was noticeably forced, you brushed off Han’s worries insisting you were just tired. Changbin took notice of his member’s concern, and leaned in close to reassure you that the event would be over soon. You gave him the same smile and quietly thanked him.

Thats when he suddenly started staring daggers at you from across the room, his hand clenching onto the almost empty soju bottle. He was drunk, for sure. That had to have been the scariest part. It only added more fuel to the fire, you were silenced. Except nothing was physically stopping you from speaking. Your head dropped down, staring at your nails that now started to dig into the palms of your and in an attempt to quiet the voices in your mind. It was a bad habit you picked up when you got anxious. Recently, it’d been worse so you currently had crescent shaped markings left behind on the center of your hand. Han noticed the tension in your body, and leaned down to express his concern once again.

“Are you sure you’re alright? You’re very tense.”

No response. As much as you wanted to reassure him that everything was okay, you couldn’t. It felt as if your throat was closing up, you couldn’t speak or move. You were anxious, overstimulated and all you wanted to do was jump out of the window. Anything to escape.

Your eyes were now staring daggers into the floor, and your body was completely still. Did you even hear him? He wondered at your lack of response, however it didn’t take long for him to pick up on it. But before he could say anything else, Chan’s hand gently but swiftly grabbed yours. Holding your hands in such a way that your nails couldn’t fight their way through your skin again. Chan was a very observant person, so it didn’t take him very long to notice the marks on your hands. That’s when Han recognized what was going on, Changbin following in their suit not but a few moments later. Once again, Han leaned down to say something. He was well aware that you were nonverbal right now, but he said it anyways hoping you could at least muster the energy to tell him you wanted to leave. You suddenly felt a hand on either shoulder, which were now rubbing soothingly into your tense muscles. “Do you want to leave? Chan still has to say his goodbyes to everyone, but I can take you outside.” This sentence was whispered into your ear, and the word ‘leave’ sparked your attention. You nodded almost too eagerly.

With that, Han motioned for you to stand up, saying something to you excuse yourselves. Chan let your hands slip out of his, looking over at his band mate and Changbin to silently communicate everyone would be leaving soon. You were unsure of what he said, now focused on not making eye contact with a certain someone right across from you. The closer to you that Han got, the more anger you could feel emitting off of the man in front. That only left you more anxious. Suddenly, Han put his arm around your waist gently to guide you out. The anxiety started to die down as you stepped out of the building, but the tears you were fighting didn’t. “You okay?” Han softly questioned as your eyes looked up to meet his. It took him not but a brief moment to notice your glossy eyes. He immediately pulled you in for a hug, which caused you to break down. Still unable to speak, you only mumbled out incoherent words that the male tried so hard to pick up on. Fortunately for him, he was able to make out a few words which told him everything he needed to know.

You felt unsafe is what it was. Although he wasn’t sure why, it was a step. Han would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t sense anger and tension in the room. The reason was what he couldn’t figure out. His head rested on yours, gently rocking you back and forth hoping to calm you down. Suddenly the door opened, but you remained still. As Chan and Changbin walked over, your breathing began to slow down. “Sorry n/n, I did my best to get us out as soon as possible. They don’t know when to shut up.” Chan apologized and rubbed his hand up and down your back. “Come on, we’ll talk later. Let’s get her out of here.”

Once you all arrived home, everyone went to their dorms. Except you stayed back at Chan and Jeongin’s. Although the younger was in the middle of a brand deal, which left you and the latter alone in the dorm. The trio agreed it would be better if you stayed with one of them for the night, so they decided on the leader’s as it would be the calmest. Your body lay next to him on his comfortable mattress, the lights set to a soft and comforting purple color with the tv playing a movie on the lowest volume. The male laying next to you, with his hand running up and down your back. Your eyes followed the movements of the character on the screen, but your brain wasn’t absorbing any of the plot. It was obvious this was a difficult night for you, but Chan just had to know.

“Feel free to not answer, I know you’re still not in a talking mood..” He led on, and your head raised to make eye contact with him. “Was that the guy… from you know.”

You did know, you knew exactly what he was talking about. Your facial features remained still, looking back and forth between both of his eyes as you mustered up the energy to get some form of response out. With that, you only nodded before turning back to the movie. Chan could swear he felt his heart break and everything suddenly clicked in his mind. If he had known it would only cause you anxiety, then he wouldn’t have pestered you to go for so long. “I am sooo sorry y/n.” His other arm found its way around you as he rested his head on yours. “We wouldn’t have pressed so hard if we knew what was going on.”

Although you didn’t respond, your hand found its way to his and gave him a light squeeze to reassure him that it was okay. “I know I don’t know the whole story but you can always talk to me about how you’re feeling, alright?” A small smile formed on your lips and your head nodded against his, nuzzling further. He let out a light and squeaky giggle as he ran his fingers over your knuckle gently. It was in this moment that you realized it was all going to be okay.

[ddejavvu]

Love to Lie - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader (Part 4/FINAL PART) / Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Summary: Your worst fear is recognized when Bradley’s jet goes down with him in it. You’re not sure why you’re still his emergency contact, you’d broken up two weeks ago, but when you rush into the hospital room, you discover that you have a chance to fix the mistake you’d been cursing yourself for. The only problem is, you have to lie to Bradley, and you discover that you love doing it if it means you get to be with him again.

Contents/Warnings: fem!reader, Mitchell!reader, angst, angst with a fluffy/happy ending, amnesia trope, hospitals and their subsequent medical details, memory loss, goose and carole are still alive because i say so

WC: 4.1K / navigation / inbox

A/N: the real last part! i sincerely hope you enjoyed this series, it's very dear to my heart and so is all of the wonderful feedback you've given me on it. I love hearing what you think, it keeps me motivated to write more for you and I'm just so happy that I got to share this with you all. Thank you to anyone who's enjoyed this, I'm privileged to have shared your time and gotten your love in return. <333

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

You feel like he’s gutted you. Like he’s plunged the hand holding the ring right into your stomach, twisted it so that the gem inside slits your insides into ribbons, and wrenched it back out dripping and glistening in crimson.

He looks so hopeful, eyes earnest and shining as he stares at you, that damn ring held between you like a life preserve. Like if you let him toss it over your finger, reel you in with his tender heartstrings, you wouldn’t drown. You’d escape the dreadful ocean of grief that’s been slowly filling your lungs since you’d left, you’d give your tired legs a break from treading water if you could just say yes. The word is on the tip of your tongue, and your achy heart begs you to say it, but you can’t.

Not when he doesn’t know.

“Bradley,” You whimper, reaching out to lay a gentle touch over his hand. You wrap your hand around both his own and the ring, squeezing tightly, “I have to tell you something.”

Bradley’s enthusiasm wanes. He hadn’t waited long enough. You’re not in love with him yet; he rushed into things just like he had before and he’d ruined it. How did he manage to ruin it two times? The best thing in his life, and he’s fucked it up twice in a row now. 

You’re looking at him with eyes full of sadness, and he catches a flash of pity in them; just like he’d feared. His stomach sours and he balks, spooking like a startled horse.

“No, no. No, it’s okay, you’re- you’re not ready yet, sweetheart, that’s okay. We can wait,” He babbles, wrenching his hand out from your own and jamming the ring back into the drawer, like if he can just get it into a safe zone, it’ll hit undo on the entire fiasco.

“No, baby,” Your face screws up, a barely-withheld sob behind your frown, “Baby that’s not- we really need to talk. Okay? I promised we would today.”

“I- I know, but-” He stammers, trying to evade your gentle touch as you pry his hand back from his dresser drawer, the ring still clutched inside and lining his palm with a layer of sweat.

“Let me talk,” You plead, “Brad, I need to come clean. Please?”

He’s sure you can see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallows what little saliva there is in his mouth, “Okay.”

“Two weeks ago,” You start, and the words feel leaden on your tongue; impossibly heavy. “-before your crash. You- you remember Javy’s crash, yeah?”

“Yeah,” His breath catches in his throat, visions of his teammate's poor girlfriend swimming in his mind. Visions of the woman he never wanted you to have to be.

“That really-” You choke on a sob, “That really freaked me out, Bradley. I realized that you could go down like that. I- I’ve always known, y’know, ‘cause of your dad. But I just- I was so young when that happened, and it wasn’t fresh, so when Javy went down… I had this revelation. That I could-” Your voice tampers down into a weak whimper, “I could lose you, Brad. I could say goodbye to you one morning and not get to say hello again in the evening. I just- lost it,” You admit, brushing away stray hair from over your red-rimmed eyes, “I’m sure you noticed I wasn’t the most pleasant to say goodbye to in the mornings. But- but baby, I was always so happy when you came home, because it meant I had more time. It felt like some awful time bomb,” You recall, “Like every time I said goodbye to you would be the last, and I couldn’t rest until you were back home. I’ve never felt like that before, I’ve always had confidence in your abilities. Even on deployment, I know you’re working with people who have your back,” You sniffle, “I’ve always known you could die, but it’s never felt that much like you would before. But then- Javy wasn’t the one who crashed,” You explain, voice thick with blubbering tears, “I mean- that was just his jet malfunctioning. And then all of a sudden I- it was like I remembered that I could lose you in some freak accident. Like it wouldn’t have to be your fault, it could just happen, and you could die. Like your dad, Bradley, I- I didn't wanna lose you like we almost lost your dad."

“That is,” You collect yourself, swallowing a heavy sob that leaves your throat achy and gutted, “My nightmare, baby.” You tangle your fingers with his where you’re still clutching his hand, squeezing tight enough to probably bruise the guy, “I don’t know what I would do if I lost you. I would die if I lost you, Brad. Even if I was alive, I’d be dead inside. I need you, I need you in my life, Bradley.”

What you’re saying sounds good to him. Terrible, of course, if he didn’t come home one day. But he is home, and you’re telling him you need him, and he can’t figure out why in the world you’ve said no twice to putting on the ring. 

“You have me,” He vows, squeezing your hand right back, “Honey, you have me right here, right now. Why won’t you let me keep you?” He presses the ring into your palm, and you both feel the metal band burning your skin like it’s been superheated.

“You asked me to marry you before you crashed,” You blurt, and even though slamming a wrecking ball into your reverie of late feels like stabbing yourself in the chest, there’s something gratifying about telling the truth. About finally coming clean, about telling him exactly why you can’t say yes.

“You sat me down, and you gave me the sweetest speech in the world,” You recall with tears thick in your voice, “About how you loved me, and how you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me, and- and you proposed, and I said no.”

He chews on the inside of his cheek, analyzing the grief in your voice. You sound anguished, like you’re upset with yourself for saying no, but you didn’t say yes this time around, so he can’t believe what he hears.

He takes a deep breath, cutting off whatever you’re going to say next, “I know.”

It feels good for him to come clean, too. Even if he's dreading what'll happen, even if he thinks there's a good chance you'll march out the door, he's glad to be done with the lies. He'd loved them while they'd lasted, but they went down in flames just like his jet.

“-and-” You stop, blinking twice, “What?”

“I know,” He admits, “I- I remember, honey.”

“You- what?” Your eyes widen, and you lean forwards, gazing imploringly at Bradley, “Brad, you- you remember? You remember everything now?”

“Yeah,” He nods, watching as you process the information.

You feel sick. You’re not sure why, because you’ve already told him the truth. But memories are different than retellings, and you both know that. No explanation on your part would have conveyed the crushed, betrayed look in his eyes when you’d declined his proposal; there’s not words in the english language suitable to describe how desperately he’d pleaded for you to stay, even in just the simplest of touches to your waist, trying to pull you back to him that night.

Now he remembers that, now you’re on the same page, and when you turn it, you’re not sure what you’ll see. 

The end of a chapter? The beginning of a new one? Or the blank back cover of a book, perhaps, if your luck has run dry. 

“When did your memories come back?” You ask, your voice sounding faraway and dazed in the back of your mind. You’re not even sure you’ve really said it, you’re too wrapped up in worrying about what he’s thinking. If your confession had spurred on his memories, you’re not sure you’ll ever get a chance to put on that ring.

Bradley swallows what little saliva is in his mouth, “A while ago.”

“How long?” Your brows furrow impossibly deeper, your brain running circles trying to figure out what’s real and what isn’t, “Like- like since this morning?”

“Since I woke up,” He confesses with a heavy heart, because lying to you hurt even if he’d loved the outcome,  “In the hospital. I- I didn’t remember at first, but they came back, uh, in a few minutes.”

You feel like you’ve walked into a cloud of smoke. Everything around you is foggy, and your brain can’t process what he’s told you. It feels like he’s lying to you, like he’s tricking you and pretending that he’s known the entire time just so as not to feel foolish. But that’s not Bradley, he doesn’t need to be smarter than you, or faster than you, or better than you, so you know he’s telling the truth.

“But- why did you lie?” You stare at him with tears glimmering in your waterline, and he���s sure this is what he looked like when he’d asked you not to go that night. Betrayed, confused, heartbroken.

“Because you did,” Bradley whimpers, wanting nothing more than to swipe a thumb under your eye and gather the tears there on his skin, taking the burden away from you.

“You came in and you asked to kiss me, and- and I wanted you to. I didn’t want to talk about what had happened, because I didn’t want you to walk out again, so I just- I lied. And I let you lie to me, too.”

You think back, and you remember how you’d walked back into the hospital room, on the verge of tears with nerves rolling in your belly. And you’d asked to kiss him, you’d given him the perfect opportunity to lie, and he’d taken it. And you can’t be mad at him, because you’d lied, too. You’re slightly hurt. It doesn’t feel good knowing that your lover- or, ex-lover lied to you. It feels even worse to know that Bradley lied because he thought you’d leave him if he told the truth. Like you’d turn tail and run, whooping through the parking lot about being free at last. But you’re the one that put that thought in his head; you’re the one that ran away. So you can’t blame him for keeping you on a short leash.

You feel too many things at once. You feel like a monster, like a cruel heartbreaker that had shattered Bradley’s to pieces. You feel confused, because you’re still processing that the past few days were entirely fake on both ends. You feel slightly betrayed, like you wish Bradley would have just told you. But you didn’t tell him either, and that makes you feel like an asshole. Too many feelings are bottled up inside, and they gush forth in a messy round of tears, one worse than Bradley’s ever seen from you.

It sets him in a panic, and he’d already been misty-eyed before. Now his own tears roll in fat droplets down his cheeks as he muscles down his sobs for your sake, dropping your hand only to take up your waist. He drags you closer on the bed, but it’s uncoordinated and a struggle as your limbs don’t cooperate. You’re limp like a ragdoll, and once he finally has you positioned in his lap he buries his face in your shoulder to soak his tears into your shirt.

“I’m sorry,” He whispers, his chest heaving and shaking with sobs, “I’m sorry I lied. I shouldn’t have, I- I know it was wrong. I just- I wanted you to stay, honey. And I thought it would be okay if we were both lying, because then I could make you fall in love with me again, and- and it was a stupid plan, I’m sorry. I should have told you, I’m sorry, I- I never wanted to make you cry. I’m sorry, honey, please don’t- please don’t cry. I love you, please, don’t cry.”

He thinks he’s allergic to your tears. His chest hurts, his face burns, and the front of his shirt is slowly sticking to his chest where you’re crying against it. He’s not sure he can handle much more of this, he can barely breathe and if you don’t stop crying soon, his lungs might collapse. He doesn’t like that you’re crying; even though he knows its a messy situation, even though he knows it’s complicated beyond belief, he’s worried that lying to you fractured your trust in him, and that won’t look good on his permanent record, especially not when he’s waiting on a yes or no from you regarding marriage.

“Honey, please,” He knows he’s not the only one at fault, he knows you’re just as guilty for lying as he is, but you’d done it out of pity, and he’d done it out of greed. You’d played pretend with him so that he didn’t lay alone in a hospital bed, but he’d lied to you so that you wouldn’t leave. He’s kept you trapped, and he’s worried you’ll break free from the cage and run.

“I’m sorry,” He cries, clutching tighter at you when you try pulling away, scared you’re on your way out, “No, honey, please, I’m so sorry-”

“Stop apologizing!’ You beg, a raw quality to your throat that bleeds into your voice. You can’t take it anymore, you can’t let him blubber out sorry after sorry for something he’s not at fault for. You wish he’d been honest, sure, but you couldn’t possibly blame him for continuing the game that you started playing.

“Just- stop, please,” You breathe, quieter now this time. “I- You’re not the one that has to be sorry.”

“But I am,” Bradley gushes, clinging tight to you, still nervous you’re trying to leave. But you’re stationed to stay in his lap, smearing away tears with the skin of your wrists.

“Well don’t be.” You huff, frustration swirling in your chest, all self-directed, “Don’t- don’t apologize for my mistakes! Bradley,” You whimper, rubbing at your eyes hard enough to see swirls beyond your vision, “I left you. I rejected your proposal, and I left you, and then when you almost died, and forgot I left you, I lied to your face. You had amnesia, Bradley, and I lied to you, in what world should you be apologizing? You should hate me,” You decide, stomach churning at just the thought, “I’m so sorry, Bradley, I- I’m so sorry! You should be throwing me out, you should kick me to the curb, and-”

“I don’t hate you.” He says, his voice gruff. He says it plain and simple, like it’s easy. Like there’s no hard feelings, like he’s not perturbed at all by your dishonesty, your betrayal.

“I love you,” He continues, and oh, does that drive the nail into the coffin you’re trapped in, “I love you so much, honey, I just don’t understand you. Why did you leave?”

“I was so scared,” You’re getting tired of saying it, but you know you have to, “Javy crashed, and I realized you could, too. Brad, I’m so sorry, I was so selfish, I didn’t wanna go through that. I left you because I didn’t wanna get hurt. I- I left to save myself from mourning your loss. But it didn’t work, and- and you still crashed, and I still almost had to mourn your loss, and it still hurt, so- so bad, Bradley. It hurt so bad,” You blubber, and he pulls you back into his chest.

“I know,” He murmurs, and you can’t fathom why he’s still comforting you, why his large, calloused hand is rubbing sweet, soft, soothing circles over your back like you’re not a traitor, “I know, honey, I can’t imagine. I’m sorry you had to get that call.”

“Come on,” You plead, your fists clenched in Bradley’s shirt, nails digging into the fabric, “Bradley, this- this isn’t fair. You should be mad at me. Even if you-” You can barely say it, the thought sounding like a fantasy; too good to be true, “Even if you love me, you should be upset. That I left, that I- that I lied, you can’t do this. You can’t comfort me, and you can’t apologize.”

“I can, too.” He argues, his brows furrowed and his mustache turned down with his frown, “Sweetheart, I know you’re sorry about all those things, you told me yourself. I know you’re sorry you left, I know you’re sorry you lied, it’s okay. It hurt when you left, but I never hated you. I wanted you back,” He admits with a shaky voice, “I wanted to fix things. And when you asked to kiss me in the hospital, I chose to let you lie to me even though I knew the truth. I liked it, baby, I loved it, because I had you back. You’re sorry, and- and I’m sorry, and we’re both sorry, so let’s do something about it. Let’s fix it, baby, please.”

“I want to fix it,” You sob, “I really do, Bradley. I- I wanted to pretend forever,” You confess, “Because it felt like it did before I left, and- you have no idea how much I wanted that back, Brad.”

“Me too,” He agrees with a rough sniffle, “I- I wanted you to pretend forever, honey. I really did, I- that’s why I proposed again,” He cringes at the memory, at the second time he’d asked to no avail, “Because I just wanted you to keep pretending, and say yes, and I thought- I thought I might be able to make you love me again, so I went for it, but I shouldn’t have. I should- I should’ve talked to you first, I should have told you the truth, but I just- I was scared, and-”

“Oh, Bradley,” You gush, grabbing the back of his neck and tugging him down into a hug. You might be smothering him, you’re not sure if he can breathe where he’s buried in your shoulder, but he doesn’t care. He’s clutching you like you’ll disappear if he doesn’t, and you’re horrified that he might really think that, but you understand why he does.

“Marry me,” He begs, “Please, honey, marry me. I’m not mad at you, I love you, please, just- just marry me, please. I can’t lose you again.”

“You won’t lose me,” You promise, tears flowing steady down your cheeks, “Honey, I promise, I won’t walk out unless you want me to.”

“I don’t,” Bradley shakes his head, his arms encircling your waist even tighter now, “I don’t want that, honey, please- please don’t.”

“I won't,” You promise, “But Brad- do you want to marry me for love, or because you’re afraid I’ll leave if you don’t?”

“I love you,” He croaks into your shoulder, and you know he’s not lying to you now, “I mean- I mean of course I’m scared to lose you. But I’m scared because I love you, and I still wanted to marry you even before this happened, before I was scared. I’m not trying to tie you down so you can’t leave, I’m trying to love you forever. It’s love, honey, I love you.”

“I love you too,” You wail, unperturbed by your messy, tear-stained, snot-streaked faces as Bradley lifts his head out of your shoulder to kiss you. It’s desperate, sloppy, and uncoordinated, but it’s the first real kiss you’ve shared in a long time, and you wouldn’t change a thing about it if you could. It’s all desperate, grabby hands and quivering breaths as you familiarize yourselves with each other again, remember what it’s like to be honestly, truly in love with each other. You’ve thrown the lies away like a hardened cast, and the bones beneath it have mended, still tender but whole again. You can’t get enough of him, you can’t take your hands out of his hair and you can’t press your chest up against his enough. He feels the same, he can’t possibly tug your hips further against his own, and he can’t dig his nose any further into your cheek or he might poke a hole there. But he wants to, so he tries.

You’re ravenous, not with desire but with love, the purest and sweetest form of it. You’re so glad to have him back, to really have him back, that you can’t care about your leg falling asleep where it’s bent awkwardly against his lap, or the stickiness of his tears on your cheeks. All you care about is Bradley, all you know is Bradley, all you ever want to know is Bradley.

He reaches for your hand while still engaged in the kiss, and you swear you feel your heart crack when you pull yourself away to stop him in his tracks.

“Wait,” You pant, wondering why he’s doing the same when he’d practically stolen the air from your lungs, “You’re absolutely sure you want to marry me? Even though-”

“Jesus,” Bradley huffs, keeping the ring in one hand and reaching for your face in the other. He squishes your cheeks together, until your lips are puckered and he can brace his forehead against your own, eyes wide and grin exasperated, “Yes! Yes, I really want to marry you, even though you left, even though you lied. I lied, too, honey. You left because you were scared, and that’s why I lied. I get it, okay? I’m not gonna turn on you, I love you. I want to marry you.”

“But- but we should work through this,” You propose, pointedly not swatting him away when he poises the ring over your marriage finger.

“Okay. We can work through it in marriage counseling,” He promises with a breathless smile, the expression wholly genuine because for the first time in three weeks, he’s confident you’ll say yes, “Because I want to marry you. Do you want to marry me?”

You’re not fucking this up a third time.

“Yes!” You gush, and you squeal when he jams the ring onto your finger, moving in for a kiss far more eagerly than you’re prepared for. It’s like being greeted by an overexcited puppy, one that’s a bit too big to be ramming into you, but that you can’t tell no. He kisses you voraciously, joining your hands together so that the metal band on your ring finger rubs against his own skin.

“I love you,” You pant, in a rare moment of being able to drag oxygen into your lungs, “And- I’m sorry. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” Bradley swears, kissing you again before you can murmur any more apologies, “It’s okay. We’ll be okay, baby. We’ll work through it. You were scared, so I’ll help you however I can so that you’re not so scared. And I was scared, so I’ll probably be a bit of a clinger for a while. That’s it, baby, we don’t have to break up.” He promises, “That’s all it is, honey. We can work through it. We love each other, we can do this.”

“We do love each other,” Saying it feels like a blessing you’re casting over yourselves, an affirmation that you want to say in the mirror ten times before starting your day, “I love you, Bradley.”

“I love you too, Y/N,” He hums, dissuaded very little when you turn your head to look for your phone. He presses the same frequency of kisses to your cheek as he had your lips, and you let him smooch away at your face while you hunt for the device.

“Here!” You find it tangled in the bedsheets, “Brad, let’s tell everyone.”

“Hm?” He glances sideways at your phone, “Oh. Yeah, my parents are probably worried.”

“My dad, too.” You hum, “I told him at the store earlier.”

“I told my parents then, too.” He confesses, “But- but they’re not mad at you, or anything honey, they understand.”

You marvel at the revelation, that that's the reason Carole had been so confident bidding you goodbye.

“I.. told your mom already,” You realize you still haven’t put all of his puzzle pieces together for him, “Uh, she knew before you woke up, actually. She was the one to suggest that I pretend nothing happened. She didn’t want you to be too stressed in the hospital.”

His brow furrows where he’s in the middle of kissing your jaw, and he pulls back to evaluate the new information. But he’s not angry, more exhausted. He chuckles weakly, “I told her today, she pretended she had no idea. Damn, that woman is a good actor.”

“Very good,” You agree, snatching Bradley’s hand out of his lap to curl your own over the back of it. Your hands are stacked palm-to-back, with Bradley’s resting on the blanket and yours overtop. Your ring glistens in the afternoon sunlight and snapping a picture of it is one of the most gratifying things in the world, second only to the feeling of it laying permanently on your finger. You’ll have to put this one in the photo album, the beginning of a new chapter.

Bradley doesn’t let go of your hand after you snap the picture, only flips his own beneath it so that he can hold it more securely. He puts his chin over your shoulder to kiss your cheek as you use your only free hand to type out a group text message to your family members. Bradley’s squadron will be next on the list, but for now, your family receives the shot of your hands intertwined, a ring glistening on yours.

I said yes this time.💗

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

[sjywrites]

༊*·˚ Prada & Versace

: ̗̀➛ 𝓢ugar 𝓓addy!𝓛ee 𝓗eeseung x 𝓕!reader. 𝓖enre smut, fluff, age gap, s2l. 𝓢ypnosis where reader is a broke and single college student celebrating her best friends birthday, and at said party she meets someone who might solve more than just one of her problems. 𝓦𝓒 estimated 5-10k. 𝓒𝓦 age gap, oral (f! and m! receiving), unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!), pet names (good girl, baby, slut in an affectionate way!), mentions of alcohol, both hee and reader smokes, reader is a bit intoxicated but still fully aware of what she’s doing.

𝓝ote this is a sneak-peak of the actual story, this is the first story I’ve ever posted on tumblr so if you see anything that I can improve, please let me know. I want the first story I post to be good enough for me to be motivated to keep writing!

This is purely fiction and is not meant to interpret how the idols act in real life!

,, not proofread + english is not my first language ! ೃ⁀➷

Flashing lights, loud music and the smell of sweaty bodies. That’s what most clubs look like, and this one was no different.

It was Ryujins 19th birthday, and she wanted to celebrate it with just her closest friends and her girlfriend. That’s why Y/N agreed to it in the first place. She’s not used to social settings and spends most of her time stressing over finals, so being forced into a social setting wasn't making her any less stressed. Her and Ryujin are the complete opposite of each other and she can’t really remember how they became best friends, but somehow they did. And that’s why she’s in this position right now, pressed between strangers in a club that reeked of alcohol, dressed in a skimpy black dress that barely covered her up.

“Hey Y/N, get me another drink will ya’!” Ryujin shouted and laughed, fully intoxicated. “I don’t really think that’s a good idea Ryu” I said, a little worried about her condition “you’ve had a lot already” I tell her, hoping she would just give up “It’s fineee, I’m fineee, trust!” She laughed and grabbed another beer. I tried to stop her but she was too fast. I just gave up and sighed, trying to reason with her when she’s drunk is like trying to argue with a wall “You’re gonna throw up later I’ll tell you that.” I grabbed my lighter and walked outside for a smoke, leaving her to Yeji, her girlfriend. I love Ryujin, but sometimes she can be a handful to look after.

I walk out on the balcony, leaning against the rack and admire the glowing night sky, letting the cold wind run over my body. It’s a relaxing moment until I hear someone approaching and I assume it’s either Ryujin or Yeji, until they lean against the rack beside me. Build too big to be either of them, I look over in their direction. A tall, hot guy with glasses stands there. He lights a cigarette and looks over to me. I forgot how to breathe for a moment, embarrassed, I looked away slightly. When I look back to see if he’s still there, we make eye contact. He’s close enough that I can feel the heat roaming around him. And I can't tell if it’s the embarrassment or the close contact with the man that makes my cheeks heat up, but I’d rather not find out.

I take a look at the man in front of me, scanning him up and down. Dressed in a suit too fine to be worn at a basic club, hair styled in a way that makes it look almost untouched, and his eyes, his eyes were so easy to get lost in. I snap out of it when I realize I’d been staring for a while, a slight smirk on the man's lips as he leans down to my level.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer”

✩ ♬ ₊.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A/N please let me know if you want me to finish it! Likes and reblogs are very much appreciated ♡ (Also someone please teach me how to make my posts aesthetic I've never posted on Tumblr before so I don't know how it works 😔)

[superdupersunny420]

A Little Visit - Sam (Stardew Valley) x GN Reader

wk - 1.6k

Blurb - Poor farmer hasn’t had a lot of motivation to do… anything really. A certain blonde skater wanted to check up on them.

Sam is such a cutie and he’s all over my tiktok right now so, first fic had to be him <3

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You hadn’t written a letter to your parents in a while. Your mom made sure to write often and your dad often put little messages into her letters for you. The motivation to get up to a desk or table never really hit, at least that was at the start.

No motivation to write a letter moved to no motivation to plant any seeds for the season and when it hit the 11th day of summer, you had no motivation to get up and go to the Luau. Spending all day in bed, only getting up to go to the bathroom or get something to eat, felt better than having to get up and ready for the day. If someone of Pelican Town were to ask why you have been hiding away in your little home on the farm, you wouldn’t have much of an answer for them, a shrug of your shoulders at most. As much as it sucks for you to not have an answer, it’s just the way it’s always been. Periods of time where even the simplest of tasks would be so difficult for you, where even simply getting out of bed is such a chore that you can hardly achieve it.

‘Maybe that’s why my parents have been sending me letters more often.’ They probably realise that you’re in one of your… moods.

However, your mopping around was interrupted by a knock on the door. Debating on whether you actually wanted to get up and answer, the knock progressively got louder until you flung the blanket off you and waddled your way over. You didn’t know what you were expecting but it definitely wasn’t the blonde hair boy you’ve been crushing on practically since you’ve come to pelican town.

Sam stood at your door, a sheepish smile on his face scratching the back of his neck.

“Hey.”

You quickly shut the door in his face. You knew you looked a mess; in the same clothes you’ve been sleeping in for… who knows how many days. Your hair greasy and messy from doing nothing except lying in bed in the heat. He couldn’t see you like this and oh god, the farm. You haven’t been out to tidy the farm in a while and your lack of crops must have been a pathetic sight.

“Um… you okay?”

But that’s also when you realise you can’t just leave Sam standing outside. He was obviously here for a reason, one of which you weren’t even willing to hear him out on before rudely slamming a door in his face. So after a few seconds of peptalk and mentally preparing for socialising, you opened the door once again.

“Sorry bout’ that. Um, ignore the appearance, I… haven’t got ready today?”

It sounded a lot more like you were trying to convince yourself than him, but Sam didn’t point it out, he just smiled. The same cute grin he always has on his face, the one that brought butterflies to your stomach and made your heart skip a beat. It was a weird thing to think about, the fact that whether you’re fully presentably or looking the messiest, he still has the same look in his eyes.

“Ha, no problem! I just thought I would swing by, see how things are.”

Oh. Well, guess he must have noticed you haven’t been out much.

You pushed open your door to allow him to come in and offered him a Joja Cola (knowing he liked them) all the while getting yourself a drink and trying to make yourself look at least a little more presentable. After grabbing drinks, you both take a seat at the small table. Sam looked around, feeling a bit awkward with what to do. He’s come over to the farmers house but doesn’t really know what to do now. ‘Hey, I’ve noticed you’ve not left your house in like 11 days? What’s up with that? Also, I lowkey miss our chats and you so where have you been?’ wouldn’t really be the way to go about this all.

“So is everything okay? Did you need something?”

No time for him to think though, Sam looked at you with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Uh, yeah- no. But…”

He took a second, taking a sip of his Joja Cola and putting the can down, looking at his hands for a second before looking back at you with a face of concern.

“I don’t want to be nosey or be pushing you in anyway, but I’ve noticed you’ve not really been, out? You weren’t at the Luau either. I just… I don’t know, I was worried for you. You’re always about the town, it’s weird not seeing you around anymore.”

You stare at Sam for a second, processing what he just said. You never really realised that other people would care, or even realise that you weren’t up and about. You really didn’t really know what to say, only having it in you to look at him with a frown on your face.

“Obviously, if you don’t want to talk about it that’s fine! But, I’ve got no plans today and I’m not at work so if you’re wanting some company?”

Sam smiles, the same stupid grin on his face and you can’t help the small smile on yours as tears well up in your eyes.

“Sam, I- You’re too sweet.”

Pink rushes to Sam’s checks and he waves one of his hands in the air.

“Hey! What friend would I be if I left you in here all alone.”

You shuffle a bit in your seat and look down at your hands, knowing that Sam was still waiting for an answer to his original question (are you okay?). You’ve never really opened up too many people before, only your mom and dad knowing about your problems, it’s hard for you to be honest. But, Sam sits, a small reassuring smile on his face, one hand holding his can of Joja Cola, and his other being used as a head rest. His eyes held no judgment, and he gave no indication that you were in a rush. He was willing to sit there for as long as you needed.

“I don’t know, I just… I always have periods where I just, lose all my motivation. It sounds stupid I know.”

Sam shakes his head and goes to butt in; however, you don’t let him. If you don’t get it all out now you don’t think you’ll be able to push yourself to get it out later.

“And I know it’s not that simple. I can’t just stop being a functioning human being but its’s so, so hard. I can hardly get out of bed, which means I’ve just let the farm handle itself and I couldn’t even push myself to go to the Luau. God, I haven’t even written to my family in ages. I just… can’t. Everything feels like such a chore, and I- “

You stop to take a deep breath, tears welling up in your eyes. You’d been looking down at the table since the start of your rambling, not having it in you to look at Sam.

“Woah, man. Seems like a lot you’ve been dealing with.”

Sam’s smile is gone, instead it’s replaced with a face of concern. He doesn’t push you to look at him or anything, he just continues with what he’s saying.

“It’s okay to feel down in the dumps, you’re human it’s bound to happen. And you’ve done so much since you’ve first moved to pelican town, if I’m being honest, I’m amazed you’ve only just reached the burnout stage. But you don’t have to deal with this all alone, you’ve got the whole town to help you with things! And you can always come to me if you ever need anything, I’m happy to help.”

You look up at Sam, eyes red from crying, face looking puffy and messy, but Sam says nothing. He just smiles at you, looking at you with a face of compassion.

“I know me saying all this isn’t just gonna cure your problems but, I hope it helps. And as I said, I’ve got no plans today so I’m happy to help or keep you company!”

You stand up and walk over to Sam’s side of the table, instinctively he stands up at well, and you wrap your arms around him. He’s quick to crush you into a hug back.

“Also, I’ve missed our talks, I have new music to show you AND I beat my high score on my game!”

Sam quietly whispers and you let out a little laugh and smile, even though you know it’ll take a little bit more for you to break out your habits, you’re happy you’ve got a friend there to help you along the way.

“So! What should we do, farmer?”

Sam grins at you and puts a thumbs up. You laugh at the nickname and take a second to think.

“I need to write a letter to my parents, and maybe if I have the effort, I’ll plant some seeds tomorrow.”

Sam nods and puts up an okay sign.

“If you want, I can go to Pierre’s and buy the seeds you need while you get busy writing?”

You smile at Sam and nod, quickly scribbling down a list of the summer seeds you need and handing over the money he’ll need. You walk to the door and see him pick up his skateboard as he turns to wave.

“Be back soon! You better get writing!”

You turn into your house with a smile, grabbing a pen and paper before sitting at the table. You’re thankful for your visit from Sam, and even more thankful for everything that he’s willing to do for you, his friend.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

hi! how common do you think students having time turners actually was, as we're only given a handful of examples? and do you think there was an ulterior motive to hermione being given the time turner? i really value your insights and this is a question that's been annoying me for years.

hi!

I don't think it's common at all. I was always under the impression Hermione was literally the only student who ever received a time-turner. I believe it had to do with Sirius Black being on the loose and Hermione being friends with Harry and not just about her schedule.

Even though the time turner Hermione receives is very limited:

According to Professor Saul Croaker, who has spent his entire career in the Department of Mysteries studying time-magic: ‘As our investigations currently stand, the longest period that may be relived without the possibility of serious harm to the traveller or to time itself is around five hours. We have been able to encase single Hour-Reversal Charms, which are unstable and benefit from containment, in small, enchanted hour-glasses that may be worn around a witch or wizard’s neck and revolved according to the number of hours the user wishes to relive. ‘All attempts to travel back further than a few hours have resulted in catastrophic harm to the witch or wizard involved.

(From Pottermore)

It doesn't seem like a common procedure:

“It’s called a Time-Turner,” Hermione whispered, “and I got it from Professor McGonagall on our first day back. I’ve been using it all year to get to all my lessons. Professor McGonagall made me swear I wouldn’t tell anyone. She had to write all sorts of letters to the Ministry of Magic so I could have one. She had to tell them that I was a model student, and that I’d never, ever use it for anything except my studies. ... I’ve been turning it back so I could do hours over again, that’s how I’ve been doing several lessons at once, see? But ...

(PoA)

Considering how McGonagall had to send multiple letters back and forth and not just the one usual form for student time turners, it makes me believe Hermione was a special case.

JKR wrote her as a special case, according to her:

Secondly, I had Hermione give back the only Time-Turner ever to enter Hogwarts.

(From Pottermore)

Now, JKR basically wrote herself into a problem. The problem was why was Hermione the only student given a time turner and how could other students who achieved 12 NEWTs (Tom Riddle, Bill & Percy Weasley, and Barty Crouch Jr) could've done so without the use of time travel?

Let's start with the second question. How they could accomplish 12 NEWTs without a time turner? Honestly, it's kinda easy to explain. Like, I have sat over scheduling classes at Hogwarts for a while, knowing the amount of teachers and such. How classes seem to work is that between 1-5 years the students are divided into groups of two houses for different subjects.

For example, Potions & DADA are a joint class of Gryffindor and Slytherin, meaning that Hufflepuff & Ravenclaw take these classes together. Herbology is a joint class of Gryffindor & Ravenclaw (meaning Slytherin & Ravenclaw likely have Herbology together) and so on for other classes.

In the first 5 years, we see the elective subjects are similarly split. We see Gryffindor and Slytherin take their electives together (only Gryffindors in Divination and Malfoy and other Slytherins are at Care with the main characters). Later, in the NEWT classes in the final two years, many students seem to drop out and you have classes with all the students in the year for all 4 houses. (I might make a full post explaining all of this and the evidence for it in more detail, this is just an overview).

But basically, it means that for OWLs at least, it's very possible to take electives at another time with the other half of your year. Also, considering the number of students, over 5 years split in 2 plus 2 less split apart years and 11 teachers, each student is likely to have a few free blocks in their schedule due to there being only one teacher per subject. This would allow to schedule subjects so a student could take 12 NEWTs without any scheduling issues.

Now why Hermione's case was special. I think it's a combination of multiple things happening together.

First, It's very likely that with the complicated scheduling at Hogwarts Hermione fell on a year where her schedule really was impossible. We know Ancient Runes doesn't happen at the same time as Care or Arithmancy as she keeps taking it so it's possible they had a real scheduling problem that specific year for electives.

Second, I mentioned in the past I believe Dumbledore was aware Sirius was innocent and he was the one who told Harry and Hermione to use the time turner to help him and Buckbeek. When they go back in time, the past Dumbledore (who shouldn't know they went back in time yet) actively helps them with the plan to release Buckbeek:

They were still ten feet away from the forest, in plain view of Hagrid’s back door. “One moment, please, Macnair,” came Dumbledore’s voice. “You need to sign too.” The footsteps stopped.

[...]

“Where is it?” said the reedy voice of the Committee member. “Where is the beast?” “It was tied here!” said the executioner furiously. “I saw it! Just here!” “How extraordinary,” said Dumbledore. There was a note of amusement in his voice.

(PoA, 401-402)

I don't think Dumbledore knew exactly what the circumstances would be at the end of the year, but I think he and McGonagall agreed Hermione's scheduling issue was a good excuse to get someone near Harry with a time turner that just might save his life if the worst came to it. Or, at least something along these lines.

So, basically, a schedule that was unluckily impossible that year added to Harry's unique circumstances and I think it explains why Dumbledore and McGonagall would go out of their way to make her an exception. Or at least the best explanation I could come up with.

[seakicker]

I’ve been writing for about ten years privately and publicly and across multiple different websites, fandoms, and eras of favorite characters. I first started writing fanfiction physically in notebooks I stashed under my bed since I didn’t own my own laptop until I was 18, lol. I had originally started writing as a means to cope with feeling like The Ugly Kid because I never had a serious relationship in my pre-teen and teenage years. I was always on the chubby side and, given fanfiction’s tendency to depict readers as extremely thin and physically much smaller than the character in question, I sought to make my own stuff that would, hopefully, alleviate some insecurities and give a place to people who felt similarly to me as a kid. Well, I also started writing because I was horny and hormonal and just wanted to fuck pixels, but that much goes without saying. 

I don’t think writing has much of a place in my current life for a variety of reasons and, despite what I said the other day, I don’t see it being a part of my future and I’m okay with that! It’s a hobby that has served me very, very well for nearly ten years (roughly half of my life now since I’m 22)— I’ve learned to like myself so much more than I ever thought I would have as a teenager, I’ve opened myself up to different ways to express myself and my sexuality, I’ve met a lot of really cool people, and I think I’ve been able to help other people out quite a bit, too. I always worry about coming off as overly pretentious or self-righteous when I talk about helping people through the power of porn fanfiction, but when I’ve received so many messages over the years about how I’ve helped other plus size people learn to feel a little more secure or how I’ve helped people feel less guilty about masturbating and enjoying sex, I think it’s a fair statement to make. I’ve had tons and tons and tons of good times as a writer, but I think reading these messages about helping other people are absolutely my favorite times to look back on. It makes me feel really good. 

I’m in a completely different stage of my life now compared to when I first started writing and I don’t think the hobby appeals to me much anymore. I do think the tumblr game of notes and numbers and interactions has stressed me out some, but it’s by no means my main motivation to hang up my hat and move on to a new era of my life. I don’t care about getting a bazillion notes or a million followers, I just like to be a slut online and help other people feel good about themselves in the process, but any person who makes content will be the first to tell you that it does hurt at least a little when you make something you’re insanely proud of and it gets an amount of likes/reblogs/kudos/comments/etc you find disproportionate to your follower count or subscriber count. Nevertheless, I try not to focus on numbers too much and, while I’m somewhat successful at that, I and many other writers and artists do feel that tumblr has a major problem with interaction, reblogs vs likes, and engagement and tumblr staff’s own decisions to introduce things like community labels certainly don’t help. 

As I said, numbers are not my main inspiration to quit. I’ve experienced near endless burnout since about January of this year where none of my ideas feel unique and original, none of them excite me, and nearly all of them make me worry that other people won’t enjoy them. It’s hard to want to write when you don’t feel like you’re making anything good, and, as I’m sure you all have noticed, I’ve taken a lot of breaks this year to hopefully get myself back in the swing of things, but I never return feeling refreshed and excited by new ideas, so that was the biggest indication to me that I’ve simply grown out of another hobby and I’m a changing person with changing interests and desires, and that’s okay! I’m emerging into a new stage of adulthood after graduating college and beginning to move out of my parents’ house, and so a shift in my hobbies and likes is to be expected. I had a conversation with another writing friend of mine who gave up writing publicly about six months ago, and my feelings sounded a lot like his, so that also suggested to me that I’m just ready to be done. 

I’m infinitely thankful to everyone who’s ever been a part of my writing journey, whether you reblogged a fic once or were a regular emoji anon who stopped in frequently. I really cherish the memories I’ve made and I was always insanely excited to see people claim new emojis, see regulars in my inbox talking to me, and read nice comments and messages. When I say that writing has been a pivotal part of my life for a decade now, I mean that in so many ways, especially in the way that it has brought so many cool and nice people to me. I’ve made mistakes and I’ve said and done things that hurt other people, and I’m grateful for the forgiveness and reconciliation others have given me just as I am thankful for all the people who have supported me throughout my online presence. 

I do feel guilty about leaving, but you guys deserve a proper goodbye instead of me putting my blog on hiatus again and just leaving it there to sit. I’d like to formally leave instead of just going dormant or disappearing, and this is that formal departure. I’ve had thoughts of quitting in the past, but those were when I was already feeling upset with other things in my life so I knew they weren’t real, but I’ve been thinking about this consistently for about four months now in clear mindsets and headspaces so I know it’s a little more real. I put myself on hiatus this last month to really think about it and, while it’s natural to go back and forth on such a decision and try to talk myself out of it, I really am ready and I don’t feel like I need to convince myself to stay when I’m not happy with my content. I owe you guys regularity and consistency, and I’ve failed to be a consistent writer or poster these past few months or so, and I’m sorry for that. I’ve talked about it a lot with my boyfriend and my close friends, and I feel it’s best for me to move on now and try some new things! I’m excited for this next stage of my life as I seek out a new career, look to move in with my boyfriend and get out of my parents’ place, and maybe get engaged too ☺️ 

My tumblr and AO3 will remain up with the same usernames and whatnot. I can’t even thank you guys enough for everything you’ve given me in the past years. I’m happy to call you guys friends and the “parasocial BAD!!!!!” debate that pops up in fandom circles needs to stfu because building a friendship with your audience and allowing yourself to be human with human feelings instead of some blank figure behind a screen is literally normal, lol. When people say nice things to you, it’s normal for it to feel good. When people say rude things to you, it’s normal for it to feel bad. 

Thank you for 10 years of love and thank you for reading! 

💛💛 Juju

ps think of me whenever you see pregnancy

[the-golden-comet]

✨Writeblr Interview✨

Thank you for tagging me @nczaversnick , @phynewrites , @mrbexwrites , and @foyle-writes-things ! Appreciate the heck out of y’all 💛✨

Short stories, novels, or poems?

Novels for sure, to read and to write! ✨

What genre do you prefer reading?

Same ones as I write—BL Romantasies, high fantasies, low fantasies, adult fiction, Slice of Life, Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Angst/Fluff/Smut 💫✨

Are you a planner or a write as I go kind of person?

Little of column A, little of column B. I think a healthy balance between the two makes for some great planned (and unplanned) adventures! 💛✨

What music do you listen to while writing?

So funny thing….I don’t listen to music when I write. But, my favorite writing white noise is gameplay of Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Dead by Daylight, or Friday the 13th without commentary, played at a very low volume. Something about a revving chainsaw sparks my motivation to write (or maybe it’s fear? 🤔)

Favorite books/movies?

Anything Disney +mutuals’s stories ✨

Any current WIPs?

So far finishing up YWIMC before I move on to something big….👀✨I have a lot of stories on the back-burner and am focusing on one at a time 💛

If someone were to make a cartoon out of you what would your standard outfit be?

Very comfortable gray-knit turtleneck or hoodie, comfy pants, stylin’ shoes, and my bag of holding (numerous things. Backpack I carry around that has all my daily necessities ✨)

Create a character description of yourself:

Okay picture Link from The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword. Got it? Okay. Make him gay. Give him some cartilage piercings. Maybe a few eye bags due to the insomnia. There you go. ✨

Oh also make him chaotic good. Because the world needs more kindness, and I will give the world more kindness. The world does not have a choice in the matter. 🌏💫✨

Do you like incorporating actual people you know into your writing?

Considering what I write? Absolutely not.

Are you kill happy with your characters?

Depends on the character and the narrative. I like happy endings, but sometimes a character must die. 🤷‍♂️

Coffee or Tea while writing?

While I write? Water. While I wake up? Coffee. While I get ready for bed? Tea.

Slow or fast writer?

Fast writer, slow motivator. Once I get on a groove I can usually go on 5-6 hour writing binges at a time. I just have to get there first with all of my projects….🫠✨

Where/who/what do you draw inspiration from?

Myself mainly, and my friends and mutuals secondly. I’ve been writing for myself since I started making fanfictions as a teenager, so I’ll never NOT make stories for myself. Gaining a supportive community on writeblr has given me an extra boost of motivation, because now I feel like I’m writing for myself AND for my friends and mutuals ✨

If you were in a fantasy world, what would you be?

The person that somehow finds themself in harrowing situations only to stumble my way out of the problem through sheer coincidence and bullshit. Or a bard. Probably a bard. Maybe both of these things 🤔✨

Most fav book cliche:

Two dumb idiots (/positive) go on an epic quest and learn about each other in the meanwhile. (See: The Emperor’s New Groove)

Least favorite cliche:

One-trick pony characters that lack depth, or exist just to check off a box.

Favorite scene to write?

Anything involving the two main protags.

Reason for writing?

My own personal enjoyment, and to share my crazy mind with the world for entertainment and create joy and inspiration to a community of genius minds (You. I’m talking about you. Yeah, YOU. Keep writing, keep inspiring, and keep on keeping on) 💖✨

Thank you again! I’m going to tag (no pressure): @tragedycoded , @wyked-ao3 , @gioiaalbanoart , @sableglass , @words-after-midnight , @saturnine-saturneight , @marlowethelibrarian , @davycoquette , @lychhiker-writes , @glasshouses-and-stones , @aintgonnatakethis , @honeybewrites , @drchenquill , @theink-stainedfolk , @the-letterbox-archives , @ominous-feychild , @mysticstarlightduck , @finickyfelix , @autism-purgatory , @moltenwrites , @rivenantiqnerd , @thecomfywriter , @somethingclevermahogony , @authorcoledipalo , @houseplantblank , +open tag ✨

[choicesficwriterscreations]

March Creator of the Month: Bayleedraws-sometimesx

Each month, CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers or artists, and this month’s creator of the month is the lovely @bayleedraws-sometimesx!  The writer is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page. Past COTM's can be found here. Center photo by the lovely @bayleedraws-sometimesx!

Quick Links:

Tumblr Blog

How do you want to be known on Tumblr? 

Baylee

More below...

When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played? 

I think it was in 2018, and I first played Bloodbound 1. 

When and why did you join Choices fandom?

It was December 2020. I was really struggling at that point; my whole life had changed, and I still hadn't come to terms with it after a year. It was just an escape. 

How did you pick your blog name? 

It’s just my name and what I do. 

Pull up the first post in your archive, and tell us about it!  

It’s just a pfp i did over halloween. It’d me dressed like Sally from Nightmare before Christmas. 

Do you write fanfiction, create fan art, or are you one of those really gifted people who do both? 

I used to want to be a writer. I really love writing stories, I’ve never really written any fanfiction, but technically, I can draw and write. 

How long have you been creating for Choices and for any other fandoms?

It’ll be four years in December since I’ve been creating Choices-related stuff, but ever since I was a little kid, I’d get obsessed with different shows/ characters and write/ draw them. 

What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to create for?

My favourite book is definitely Bloodbound. I love drawing BB related stuff because I have a slight obsession with Kamiliah 

Share your first Choices fanfic or fan art that you posted with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were creating it today?

It was a drawing I did for @ao719. I think I would change a lot if I were to draw it now. I don’t really like it anymore, and my style has definitely changed over the years.  I find it really embarrassing looking back at old drawings. 

What is your favorite piece of fiction or art that you created? 

A BB animation (I still haven't finished), but it was really fun writing the story and designing/ drawing everything. 

Do you have a creation that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to do well but found it could use a little more love?

I never expected any animations to do well and was very surprised when they did. I’m really sure that I would like to get more attention. 

If you could only draw one style or type of art for the rest of your life, what would it be and why? 

I don't know. I’m moving into my own flat soon, so I’ve been drawing some scenery pieces I’m going to put up once I’m there. I find them really therapeutic to draw, so maybe that. 

Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs?

Sometimes. 

What element of art do you struggle with most?

Probably finishing the pieces off. By that point I’ve stared at it for so many hours that all I can see are  the problems with it. 

Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

Absolutely, I’m going through a lot right now so there’s quite a lot of things that i really do want to finish but i just dont have the motivation. 

If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to see your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you show them first? 

Maybe. My big brother taught me how to draw, so occasionally, I’ll let him look at some of my drawings. 

16 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing or art? Are there any artists that influence you?

I can’t think of anyone published that I looked up to or have really inspired my artwork. There’s definitely people that i know in my life that have. 

Which one of your creations would you like to see fiction written about? 

I have absolutely no idea lol 

Do you write original fiction or create non-fandom art? 

Yeah, I love creating new characters and really animations doing animations of my original characters.

What other hobbies do you have?

A lot of crafty things. I was taught how to sew, knit, and crochet as a kid, and those are things I still enjoy doing now. 

[nouearth]

a letter to spider-man.

peter parker x male reader.

summary: spider-man launched his own help line and you need his advice in talking to your crush: peter.

wc: 1.2k. genre: fluff, comfort!fic. warnings: holland!peter, social anxiety, mention of death, crushes, college!au.

peter wasn’t sure what made him decide to do this: a spider-man help line. one day, he woke up and wanted to fulfill a sense of purpose more than he already has—to help out the public more, to build a community that peter has been wanting to fix since the death of his aunt.

so far, they’ve been pretty simple tasks: walking the dogs, helping a blind woman with grocery shopping, fixing a broken pipe with his webs—it was all out of the kindness of his own big heart. a heart that his aunt once nurtured.

it was hard at first. from being a ‘save the world’ hero to a ‘save the dog from burning up in a locked car’ hero, it was a downgrade one might find—peter did at first. 

but it’s been a while since he saw the relieved smiles on the public’s faces whenever he swung from the corner. true happiness that he was envious of at times, but nonetheless grateful for, and so that would become his motivation. 

maybe it can make the world a better place if people happen to be inspired by his actions. small stuff that regular civilians can achieve. a domino effect that peter hoped for.

—april 10th

dear spider-man, so, this is a thing now, huh? the future is so unpredictable, so i actually never thought i’d be writing to you. well, i guess the future would be me texting you like you advertised, but i like writing. it makes my hand cramp, and my handwriting is terrible (sorry, i hope you can still read this), but it feels good. like... shouting at the sky, i would imagine, so i prefer it. i’ve also been watching a lot of ‘80s and ‘90s movies, which could also be a major factor.  and i just realized i’m supposed to tell you about my problems! this is kinda hilarious because i think i’ve probably rewritten my letter six times already.  also, are you living your citizen life as a therapist or something? because why else would you be helping people this way? not that we don’t appreciate it, but it’s different. you’ve probably stopped reading by now, but in case you haven’t, i’ll keep the rest short. i guess my problem is… i like this guy. i know you’re not a relationship therapist (your secret is safe with me if you are though), but i figured a guy like you knew how to talk to people? you save people on a daily basis, so you probably aren’t scared anymore, right? that theory worked better in my head, to be honest, so scratch that! anyway, his name is peter. we’re both freshmen in college, so we’ve been seeing each other a lot, especially since we’re in the same classes. did i mention that i’m a guy as well? i don’t know him that well. i’m pretty quiet, i guess. invisible, maybe? it’s funny. sometimes, my professors would forget that i was even in their classes until i would speak up. but besides that point, he probably doesn’t even know that i exist either.  the perks of being invisible—i’m not even sure if there are any, because i’m noticeable enough on days where people want to say stuff. mean, terrible stuff. i wonder if he notices me, though. probably not, but a guy could only hope. i think we’d get along. again, hope! he’s smart and humble, always insecure of his own answers even though he knows—everyone knows—that it’s correct. kind, too. also awkward, like me. but the cute-awkward, not the me-awkward. i like him. i want to be friends with him. maybe even more? but i’m not greedy! i can settle with being friends.  i guess, how can i approach him?

thank you, (m/n)

it caught peter off guard at first—seeing his name in the same vicinity as spider-man became a jump-scare. even though, the sender kept everything pretty vague to keep the named crush relatively anonymous, there was a gut feeling telling peter that it was him—the culprit of (m/n)’s stolen heart.

nah, there are so many peters..! just a coincidence.

it took him longer than he thought to come up with a sufficient reply. usually, a task would’ve been done because all he had to do was use his body, his webs to do good—not his words. inexperienced yet excited, peter smiled while writing his letter.

peter wasn’t great at consoling people. hell, he couldn’t even make himself feel better. but he’ll try, like he always does. 

—april 23rd

hi (m/n)! sorry for taking so long to get back to you! life’s been crazy with everything going on. did you know that there’s been at least ten deli robberies that i managed to save this week alone? something about that chicken salad sandwich drives people nuts… like you, peter’s actually been pretty swamped with exams and graduation. i also want to congratulate you for being the only one that has written a letter to me instead of using the chat service! i’ve never written a letter before, so excuse my rustiness. my handwriting is way worse than yours. mine looks like if you gave a dog a pen and made it write. freshman year of college is a big year for you, for everyone. i remember the feeling of feeling so lost!  still know the feeling.  don’t get me wrong. yes, i’ve become braver since i started this spider-man stuff. but i still get scared, you know? life is so unpredictable and you never know when something might go wrong, and unexpectedly go so right.  like, just the other day, i got anxious when i was ordering from a drive-thru! they didn’t hear me, so i had to repeat my order. then again, because the mic sucked or whatever! even though it was only me, i felt so embarrassed, like my cheeks swelling and itchy skin type of nervous. but then it quickly went away because… okay, well i got my burger and fries pretty quick, so that helped. but you know what i mean? there’s this potentially negative outcome that we’re so afraid of. when in reality, it’s only ever so fleeting. you said he’s a nice guy, right? he could also be scared to talk to you, and you would never know because you’re too busy knocking yourself down! everyone is awkward. I’m awkward. so are some of my family members, my friends too. and that feeling won’t ever go away. sometimes, it’s meant to be shared. being invisible isn’t so bad sometimes. i definitely know the feeling, even wished for it at times. you can listen to music without being bothered, that’s a bonus! but from what i’ve noticed from feeling invisible, it would always come when i was being unkind to myself. i had the worst perception of myself in the eyes of my peers, and that made me withdraw. i purposely isolated myself because i was being unkind. the way you view yourself reflects onto others. not all the time, sometimes people are genuinely just assholes. but from what you’ve been telling me about this peter guy, he seems pretty special. if you’re awkward, be awkward and laugh it off. there’s nothing more charming than being genuine, and being kind to yourself is part of that progress. I’m rooting for you (and peter)!

from your friendly neighbor, spidey.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[starastrologyy]

Astrology Observations 🥀

Please do not plagiarize anything that I write 🤍it’s common to see people with *similiar* observations/posts but completely copying my posts word for word is not okay!

Okay back to the observations!

Aries on the Ascendant of a composite chart can indicate a couple who really enjoy being active together. This is a couple who comes across as being very intentional and ambitious. I’ve seen this placement in the composite charts of couples who really enjoy working out together and being out and about! There’s and aura of competitiveness and confidence about this couple!

People with their natal Sun in the 12th house tend to be very private about their personal lives. This is magnified if they have Scorpio placements too. You’ll never really know what’s going on in their lives, even if you think you do.

Back to composite charts. Couples who have a lot of Mars energy or Aries placements in their composite charts tend to move really quickly. As in, they probably started dating very quickly or were intimate early on in the relationship.

Saturn on an angle in a composite chart can show a couple who have been together for a very long time, or perhaps they are ‘bound’ together by marriage (7H) , business (10H) or family/a shared home(4H). (5th house composite Saturn can indicate that the two people are bonded by the children they have together)

When your Mars makes a conjunction to another persons IC in synastry, it can have a similar affect to the moon conjunct mars aspect. However, the Mars person had the ‘upper hand’ in this dynamic. Many People believe that this aspect can create problems of the two wish to live together. But, one would have to observe the aspects that Mars makes, in order to determine that. For example, if Mars makes trines, and sextiles to the IC person’s personal planets, the IC person may be motivated to be more proactive when it comes to their home, family, and even their professional life (as the MC opposes the IC). If Mars makes hard aspects to the IC individuals personal planets, there can be conflict in the home if the two people live together, or the Mars person may trigger considerable amounts of emotional unrest in the IC person. (The entire synastry chart & the aspects mars makes will tell you how this aspect is likely to manifest! )

If someone were to create placements that indicate being a potential “sugar baby” Saturn on the Descendent would be one of my top contenders. This is especially true if the ruler of the descendent is placed in the 10th or the 8th house (in addition to Saturn being on the descendant). Venus or Jupiter in the 8th house can also make people want to spoil you financially in general.

Uranus in the 4th house of a Birth Chart is common in the charts of people who moved alot in childhood. A Sagittarius IC can indicate that you may have immigrated as a child. If the ruler of your 4th is in the 9th, this may apply to you too. I’ve seen Gemini on the IC come up in the charts of people who grew up in two (or multiple) different households! This could be because their parents divorced, so they alternated between two homes (but it can be for any reason really).

Sun square or opposite Moon! Is common in charts of people who have divorced/separated parents. In some instances their parents never married!

People who are more likely to be involved in long-distance relationships are often very “Uranian” as in Uranus is strongly aspected in their charts, or perhaps they have significant planets (moon & Venus) in Aquarius. Uranus or Aquarius on the descendent can also indicate the propensity to attract long distance relationships.

Pluto closely aspecting your personal planets or an angle in your chart, can make other people act very strangely (extremely) around you. Pluto is polarizing, so you may find people border obsession or repulsion when it comes to you. I mentioned that I have Venus conjunct Pluto natally (it’s a separating aspect thank goodness)! But I have had my own fair share of stalkers both romantically and platonically! (I have actually had to file a restraining order once). Some of these “stalkers” have been people who have openly expressed their dislike towards me. So, Pluto is very much a double edged sword. Although attention can be flattering at times, it can also be very dangerous, Nevertheless, I’ve noticed this kind of dynamic with people who have Pluto squaring the Ascendant or the MC too! Pluto on the descendant can result in exes always coming back or partners having a hard time letting you go. Alternatively, you may be the ex who can’t let your past or there go, it all depends on your entire chart!

Significant South Node & North Node contacts in synastry rarely point to a relationship that is meant to be long-term or the “end all and be all”. I find that Saturn is more telling in terms of longevity. However, south node & north node contacts in synastry are very karmic in nature. These relationships often reveal or trigger our shadow sides, and they last until we have learnt the lessons that are necessary for us to move forward in life. These relationships can be very painful and hard to let go, especially if Venus is involved!

It’s so cliché to say that water moons have spiritual gifts. But I honestly personally know about 4 water moons who have intuitive/psychic gifts! I have also observed that Neptune in the 12th, can give someone an unmatched level of intuition! As in, these people are not always necessarily “psychic” but they often sense what is likely to unfold before it actually happens, and they can accurately read situations and people around them! Neptune in the 4th can indicate coming from a family of people who are spiritually gifted! Sometimes, it can indicate that you are the one with a spiritual gift! Neptune in the 10th, or Pisces on the midheaven can also indicate working as a tarot reader, psychic, or anything involving spirituality.

12th and 4th house placements have been common in the charts of people who are spiritually or psychically gifted in my own personal research. Pisces/Scorpio or even a cancerian influence over the 4th, 8th, 12th and sometimes the 1st house also applied! People with Mars or Saturn in the 12th house were more inclined to believe that they were being spiritually attacked by another person (many believed that they had been victims of witchcraft at least once in their lives). Please note that I don’t believe that witchcraft is an inherently evil or bad thing, I am just reporting my findings!

[malicedragoness]

Nsft Havik Headcanons Part Two

It’s been almost a year since I wrote Part One of Havik headcanons. And I’ve had these ideas for almost just as long, but didn’t have the motivation to write it.

But I do now. 😏

These seem more tame than Part One, but wait until you get to the end. It’s worth it.

Please read the warnings before continuing. Havik is his own warning.

WARNINGS: Dismemberment, hair pulling, dick specs, piercing/needles, body horror.

-Havik is not used to gentleness. When you first get together, he flinches away from your touch. Especially with his scars. He’s familiar with pain not tenderness.

It’s going to take time for him to get used to such sweetness, but once he does, he loves it when you play with his hair. Gently scratching his undercut, running your fingers through his bangs, massaging his temples. It’s therapeutic for him.

Don’t be surprised if he detaches his head and plops it in your lap for you to play with his hair. It’s his ultimate way to relax.

-Speaking of his hair. He also likes it when you pull on it during sex. Don’t tell me he doesn’t. Have you seen his brutalities where he holds up his head by his hair? He likes it.

To feel the prickles of pain on his scalp when he’s deep in ecstacy will have him cumming in minutes.

-Secretly loves to be called a good boy. He didn’t know this about himself until one day, you beckon forward to lay his head in your lap. He obliged and you started playing with his hair and chuckled, “Good boy.”

He fucking shivered!

Havik would never admit he likes it. But he won’t tell you he hates it either.

-Dick specs: I’ve mentioned this in an OC x Havik fic, but I’ll reiterate.

It’s a shade darker than the rest of his skin with a big bulbous tip. A bit over average length, but he’s packing girth! Three veins run along the sides, blood continuously pulsing through them, giving it an angry appearance. (Imagine seeing those veins on Titan Havik ;)) And heavy balls hanging below.

-Switch, but tends to be on top more often. When he’s in the mood, he’s eager to express it. As soon as the two of you are alone, his hands are all over you, teeth nibbling your neck, letting out breathy groans.

He doesn’t mean to always take charge. His eagerness gets ahead of him and he can’t help himself. If you want to be on top, you just have to be more assertive and take the reins and he’ll fall into place for you. He’ll be interested to see how you take control of him.

-Without lips, it’s pretty hard for Havik to kiss. A lot of it is going to depend on you to let his tongue into the warm confines of your mouth and curl around your own. It might get sloppy and messy, but it doesn’t make it any less enjoyable.

And instead of cheek kisses, he gives you nips and licks when he thinks no one is looking. Also likes to nip your fingers and shoulders.

-Piercing play. I’ve gone over how Havik gets off to pain. And piercing play would be right up his alley.

Piercing play is the act of piercing the body with needles for the experience and/or pleasure rather than having a permanent piercing. (Pictures)

Havik would love to lay down and be your personal pin cushion. Experiment on him. Start with simple designs to more intricate ones. Each pierce of a needle will have him grunting in pleasure and send a little shiver down his spine, and tingles throughout his nerve endings.

If you want to give him a permanent piercing, especially his nipples, he’s down for it. Any gift from you is something he will cherish. And if those nipple piercing happen to rip off in battle?

No problem. He’ll let you stick him over and over again. Anything to satisfy you.

-This head canon may sound far fetched. But stick with me here.

Havik can have two dicks.

Not for very long. But it’s achievable.

Whenever he rips off his limbs and uses them as weapons, eventually they dissipate. He can do the same with his cock.

Let me explain how.

Havik doesn’t completely rip off his dick. He makes a cut at the base of his shaft where it meets his abdomen, and slowly starts to pull it downwards to separate it from his body, but not quite all the way. Just enough to make the atoms in his body think his cock is missing and another shaft grows in its place.

He won’t have it for long, so have all the fun you can while he’s sporting two dicks.

If you have female parts, he’s up for double penetrating both your holes, or just your vagina.

If you have male parts, he’s willing to use both in you, but he’ll be nervous about it. More power to you, chief!

Or if you simply want to ride one cock and stroke the other, watching Havik grit his teeth and groan in pleasure, that’s fun too.

Just know he’ll respect whatever boundaries you put in place, and wants to give you as much pleasure as you give him.

He’s your chaotic guard dog.