#it sounds corny now that i write it out and its not the same as the others. but god

[apparentlysimon]

for years, even before I knew I was a man, I always noticed something the men around me would do. every time they told a joke and I laughed, they would keep it going for as long as humanly possible. I have always struggled with my masculinity, but one day I caught myself telling a joke over and over and over again to my best friend, desperately trying to extend it further and further to keep hearing them laugh because I loved them and the way it sounded. when I noticed what I was doing, it felt like something clicked. I wanted to thank all the men and boys before me who made me laugh, then helped me become a man.

You know that Ada Limón poem where she’s like “i can’t help it i love the way men love”? my dad recently confessed to me that he became a shoemaker because they buried my grandma shoeless

oh…………………………………

[funniestpersonalivefr]

First of all YOU ARE AMAZING i could neverr write like this ,my brain simply can't function when it comes to these stuff, second of all i was fighting the urge to ask you for another older leon x fem reader smut/fluff because i felt like im just gonna be annoying but since i failed to stop myself here it is: "imagine leon has this coworker who he worked with during the alcatraz island incident and managed to develop a crush on her, so after days or weeks of tiptoeing around and aimlessly flirting he finally brings himslef to ask her out and one thing leads to another and BOOM! they have sex" IM SORRY IF THIS SOUNDS CORNY AND CHEESY YOU CAN TOTALLY IGNORE THIS IF YOU WANT SO ANYWAY LOVE YOU BYE

sweetheart

RAHHH IM GLAD YOU LIKE MY STUFF. anyways here's the leon request mwahahaha. nsfw under the cut, mdni. credit to image owner. not proofread and i hope you enjoy, love ya!!

your time at alcatraz was nothing but stressful. you ran around with leon and the others fighting a giant b.o.w. and you were so relieved when everything was over.

the following days you and leon spent the days swamped in paperwork. leon had been especially flirty lately, and you'd be lying if you said you weren't admitting the extra attention gave your butterflies in your stomach like a teenager in love.

how could you not fall for the charming man? he was kind and incredibly attractive but you'd never guess he would feel the same about you. yet there you were, walking into the parking lot with leon as you approached your respected vehicles. the words left his lips seemed to slip out so effortlessly and you felt your heart catch in your throat.

"you outta let me take you out to dinner tomorrow night, if you're free," he says, his low tone brought a warmness into your chest. you look back at him, he's idly standing next to his motorcycle.

"yeah, that sounds great. i'd like that," you say, your tone is soft and shy as you look away. a smile is spread across your lips and leon mirrors with his own face.

your date with leon went extremely well, a nice dinner followed by a motorcycle ride. he was all over you the moment you two had gotten back to your apartment and you were not complaining.

his lips were on your neck as he slammed you into various walls around the house, a trail of clothes following you. usually leon would try to be more of a gentleman but he was completely and utterly obsessed with you.

his crush on you had always been there but something about the alcatraz mission changed it. maybe it was the way you protected all of those around you but his heart fully belonged to you.

your back hits the soft bed, both of you have been stripped down to undergarments and nothing more. his rough calloused hands feel up and down your body, grabbing your boobs. his lips are against yours as your hands tangle in his hair.

leon's bulge presses perfectly between your legs as the two of you grind on each other with desire and need. his touch was gentle as he removed the bra separating him from your tits. your bra was quickly thrown off to the floor, leon's mouth quickly finding its way to your quickly hardening nipple.

his mouth helps to stimulate the bud, letting pleasure rush down your body. you can't help the way your hips buck into his, a groan slips leon's lips and you know you need him inside you right now.

your hands are soon fumbling with his belt, leon catches your wrists stopping you.

"what do you think you're doing sweetheart?" he asks, you whimper out slightly.

"i need you leon, i need you inside me," you say, pleading with him to give you what you want. he can't help but give in to you with the way your glossy eyes look up at him and your beautiful face flushed.

leon lets go of your wrists and you're quick to continue your actions. his clothes join yours and it's not long before he's slipping his fingers in you, stretching you to make sure you can take his cock. you whine out, desperate for his length and leon coos at you.

"be patient now, can't have yourself getting hurt," he says, his tone dripping with sweetness. his fingers start doing a scissor motion and you can't help but moan from his touch.

soon enough your needy cunt is stretched just enough for leon. you can feel him rub his tip through your soaking folds. you prop yourself up and watch as he starts to slide into you, it almost looks like he's disappearing into your pussy.

his movement is slow as he lets you adjust, waiting for you to signal you're ready for more. this signal comes with a roll of your hips. leon starts to thrust into you deeply, his long cock kissing your cervix perfectly.

he continues to plow into you, not sure how long he can last with how deliciously your cunt clenches around him. you're a whiny and moaning mess from how well he's fucking you, and you can feel that familiar pressure building up in your stomach.

leon presses his calloused fingers down to your clit, rubbing it slightly to help push you over the edge. you shudder under his touch as your orgasm approaches, your body shaking as it does. leon's soon spilling his cum into your cunt from the sensation of your squeezing around him.

he's cursing into your ear as his hips sputter, soon pulling out.

"fuck, i didn't mean to-" he says, referring to the cum he just dumped into you. you silence him with a kiss before pulling away.

"i'm on the pill it's fine, plus it was um... it was hot," you admit, looking down. a chuckle leaves his lips as he reaches to your chin, tilting your head to look at him.

"i guess i'll have to do it more, huh sweetheart?" he teases and your face flushes as you roll your eyes. the two of you are completely smitten with each other.

[hwavsg4ch4n]

Awkward|| L.M

Note: hi guys, this is actually a music series (more info linked) bonus. I usually write multiple versions of a smut per song and choose which one fits the vibe the most. this one was actually supposed to be for SYNERGY (linked), but I reworked it and made it better for "Awkward". I haven't been here for a while and decided that I'm the kind of writer that likes to pop in randomly lol. I'm thinking about turning this into a mini-series separate from the music series. After you read this, please follow the link at the end and vote on the pole if you think this would be a good mini-series! ps. word count of 4,783... get a snack.

Disclaimer: I have decided not to no longer put any tags in my works to avoid unneeded spoilers. I will only warn when there are extremely triggering aspects in my work. Read at your own discretion.

Synopsis: You've been single for years, it's sad really. coming up with excuse after excuse as to why you should be okay. Then society introduced the appearance of 'soulmates', and somehow everything got worse. But then there's your boss, what should you do with him...

this is a mature work of fiction (18+), this does not represent any real-life figures, this is just for entertainment.

Music series bonus <masterlist>

You tilted your head back, gulping down the rich red wine as the brisk night air glided across your naked arms.

What was love? It was stupid, at least that’s what you always told yourself. Love is dumb, for the weak; and you weren’t weak. You wished you believed your thoughts, but you couldn’t help but crave love. What it felt like, sounded like, what it smelled like, what it tasted like. 

Jealousy was a disease and you hated to admit that you were practically hospitalized and in a coma from said disease. 

However, solidarity was alright sometimes. It was rewarding, no arguments, no having to worry what your partner was up to if they were taking care of themselves properly. You only had to worry about yourself… is it bad that was your biggest con to single life? Only having to worry about yourself.

You told yourself this for years. That was until early last year, when the CDC came out with a new phenomenon. They called it, soulmates. You thought it was corny. You watched as scientists explained the symptoms, and how it starts. How it feels, how you can differentiate your feelings blah blah blah, it was bullshit in your eyes. But not many felt the same. 

The day after the news of soulmates reached the public, your office became littered with pairings. Mia from accounting and Felix in your branding apartment paired up instantly. Everyone saw that one coming. They were frauds, had to be, the CDC said their research is still new, meaning they’ll need long-term volunteers that they’ll compensate. That's when fake soulmates started appearing. You called bullshit when the news stated authentic soulmates are now being deemed rare. The CDC just wanted to cover its tracks, hiding another economic decline. Soulmates weren’t real.

Your loneliness grew worse because of your slight rebellion. You didn’t put yourself out there, scared someone would falsely claim you as a soulmate. It’s nights like this where you want to let yourself fall in line. Here you are, alone at the Valentine’s Day company party for another year, this time due to self-sabotage. You already hated this holiday, but of course, science had to make it worse. On the balcony sipping expensive wine your boss bought for everyone, you tried your best to drown out the jazz music and giggles as coworkers showed off their engagement rings.

Minho watched you through the glass door of the balcony with hesitancy. He tuned out the conversation he was dragged into. “Mr. Lee, what are your opinions on soulmates.” He looked at the second department secretary, taking in her inquiry, “I’m not quite sure.” He was telling the truth, he didn’t think much of it, if it was true great, if it wasn’t, it didn’t really affect him in any way, probably just another pity thing. The marriage statistic was getting low, he read it in a paper. Minho took one more sip from his whiskey glass before setting it down and excusing himself.

Everyone in the office knew that Minho, the COO of this company, took a liking to you; everyone was jealous in fact. The kind, extroverted, unmarried, painfully attractive man… liked you. The seemingly cold, work-a-holic, introvert of a woman. He’s liked you since before the news came forth with their studies, yet you were oblivious. Your self-esteem is so low that you wouldn’t dare to even think a man like Minho would see you in such a way, not when people are trying to claim the bachelor every day. 

You looked over your shoulder as the balcony door opened. You smiled politely, “Mr. Lee, how are you?” You asked gently. He couldn’t help but smile at the sound of your voice, not even trying to hide the shivers that trailed down his spine at your tempt voice. “I’m doing well, but I couldn’t help but feel bothered when I saw you out here alone. Are you not cold, Ms. L/n?” You watched as he made his way next to you, leaning against the metal railing. He gazed at the city skyline, awaiting your answer.

You took another sip of wine. “It’s a bit chilly, but I can manage.” Short and simple, polite. That’s all Minho got from you. He's never wanted a person to rant to him for hours so badly, but that would be seen as unprofessional. He clears his throat, standing up straight. “Are you not having fun?” He asked. Maybe it was the wine that compelled you to answer him differently than you normally would. “To be honest, Mr. Lee,” He raised his brows, turning to you fully. “What is it?” You let yourself answer. “I don’t really favor office parties.” You chuckled before downing the last bit of your wine.

Minho frowned before biting his lip. “I hope it’s okay that I call you by your name,” He started, “Sure.” He gulped dryly before giving you an offer. “Would you like to get out of here, y/n?” You finally faced him, brows furrowed as your eyes lingered across his figure, taking him in.

White button-up, sleeves rolled to his elbows, black slacks, dark auburn hair fallen into his eyes, the eyes that were surveying you softly. It would be strange, to ride off into the night with your boss on the night the company is rumored to rename the festive party ���soulmates night'. But you’ve had about 3 full glasses of wine, and you’re bored plus inquisitive.

“Where would we be going?”, he smiles.

After bidding an awkward goodbye to your coworkers, and avoiding questioning looks about the two of you leaving together; you finally made it to Minho’s car.  

“Wanna catch a late movie?” Your head tilted in question, he drove out of the parking lot the humming of the engine fills the silence. Smirking to yourself in disbelief, you agreed. 

The ride was filled with conversation, the longest non-work related conversation you’ve had with this man. He spoke of everything you didn’t think he’d speak of. How he missed home, how living in a bustling city was fun, but the sound of waves beat the sound of honking horns. You couldn’t help but ask him questions, you didn’t care if they were the right questions. You were comfortable, too comfortable. Was it the wine you downed? Maybe the grand looking air freshener in his car. It hurts your pride to admit that it might just be him. He smelled nice and spoke to you gently in that voice he would use to remind you of your lunch hour. 

You took in a breath as his hands on the steering wheel came into view, “Oh sweet jesus”. You pressed yourself into the black leather seat. It’s the wine, it has to be the wine. Minho turned to you as he finished parking, “You ready?” 

-

No one was there in the theater, no one but the two of you. You couldn’t focus on the movie, all you could focus on was how you were alone with Minho, completely alone with him. 

You were zoned out until you were pulled back to reality. “Are you enjoying the movie?” He whispered, not looking in your direction, his eyes glued to the projected screen. You couldn’t help but ask bluntly, “What are we doing?” 

Minho looked at you, you felt his gaze so you looked back. “Mr. Lee, it’s soulmates night.” He frowned, chewing on his popcorn. His heartbeat quickened, were you implying something?

 It was dark, but you could see him like there was the light of a halo above him. “What do you wish we were doing, Y/n?” Why did he ask you that? Why did he ask like he wanted to fulfill a wish?

You looked away, parted lips and furrowed eyebrows. He couldn’t see your face properly, he took your silence as rejection, and maybe he read you wrong. “I don’t mean to upset you, I apologize. Let’s finish the movie, then I’ll take you home?” You didn’t want to finish the movie, you weren’t even watching the boring movie.

Your heart was pounding, was this what proper desire felt like? It felt different from your crush on the Grey’s Anatomy guy. Was this what being wanted felt like? But he’s your boss… You felt a surge of warmth, a shallow buzzing feeling accumulated in your fingertips, must be excitement. Your conscious almost coming alive, fuck it, give in. You did just that.

Biting your lip you breathed in deep, “I don’t want to continue the movie.” You stated in a whisper. You couldn’t see it clearly, but Minho grew worried, worried he scared you off completely.

“Oh- would you like to, would you like for me to take you home now, Miss. L/n?” He didn’t want to use your first name, afraid of abusing his power. It made you flinch, “I thought you said… you were gonna use my name from now on?” You whispered. Finding his eyes in the slim light provided by the screen.

He licked his lips, although it was out of his nervousness, the action made you gulp. “My apologies, Y/n.” you weren’t aware of it yet, but you held all the power at this given moment. He’d do anything you told him to with no question.

“I do want to get out of here, but I don’t want to go home Mr. Lee.” You said, standing up, and grabbing your purse. Minho stood up as well, eyes never leaving your form as he studied you for unspoken answers.

“I would like to see where my boss lives, I’ve always been curious.” your lashes fluttering, as you peered up at him with a quick pulse and sweaty palms. What if you read him wrong, what if he dismissed you and fired you on the spot? What if this whole ordeal was just because he pitied you for being single for every Valentine’s Day party?

“Well, I should let you overcome your curiosity, shouldn’t I Y/n?” He said with amusement. “After you.” He moved out of the way, letting you lead the way out of the theater.

You continuously asked yourself what you were doing on the drive to his house. Well, you knew what you were doing. You were lonely, and tired of it, taking up a messy offer that could end up in you getting scammed by this man. You’ll apologize in the mirror later. Hitting rock bottom was something you would worry about tomorrow. Your hazy mind only lets you think about his veiny hand gripping the gear shift.

What would happen if you took it upon yourself to place him where you wanted him? 

Working up the courage, you sucked in a breath before allowing your fingers to trace his cufflinks, trailing your fingers around his wrist. His fastened pulse boosted your ego, looking to see his reaction. Minho remained focused on the road, with no intention of stopping you as he blinked and took more deep breaths than a calm human would.

You couldn’t help but lick your lips as you brought his hand to the warm flesh of your warm thigh, just under the hem of your black tweed skirt. Your blood pumped at the thought of how he’s letting you have your way. He wanted this too, to touch you. His hand was warm, and comforting. You liked how pretty it was on your skin, admiring the visual as your nails traced his veins.

Minho didn’t mean to squeeze, he did it subconsciously. He didn’t realize he did it until you gasped shallowly, clenching your thighs around his hand and looking up at him with the lowest gaze he’s ever seen from you.

“Sorry.” He muttered, rubbing his hand along the inside of your thigh in an attempt to soothe, not wanting to get you too worked up just yet. But his touch had the opposite effect. You didn’t want to wait anymore. It was known that Minho’s house was in the rich part of the city, all the way across town. Even Though it was a mere 30 minute drive, the distance felt like an eternity. 

“Minho,” Minho gulped dryly. Your deep tone sent shock waves through his body, he enjoyed how his name dripped off your tongue. “Yes, Y/n?” His voice remained steady, not wanting to ruin something that could get so good. “I want you to pull into the park, I wanna watch the sky with you.” You whispered. Minho’s heart grew soft as you continued to trance his veins. He nodded silently, ready to take every command you asked of him.

You watched as he parked, the view of the city was beautiful, but that wasn’t your focus as of now. 

There was a silence, loud, swallowing the city sounds in the distance. Your body shifted, rotating towards him. Minho turned to you, his grip on your thigh tightening slightly as he took in the view of you. “Kiss me,” Yes you were being blunt, and bold, but you didn’t care. Who cares?

You grinned as Minho pulled you on his lap, his strength not surprising you; considering how his arms looked way too confined in every dress shirt he owned. Your eyes shut as his lips collide with yours. Soft, buttery, warm, so so warm, and buzzing… your lips were buzzing. The feeling of him was clouding your judgment. Minho’s hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer. He tilted his head, kissing you deeper. Pulling back slightly, he watched as you followed him. Minho smiled, softly chuckling. You opened your heavy lids, growing shy to see his gaze. Your lips parted as he pushed you even closer, rubbing against the growing tent in his slacks, you jolted as your core began to buzz as well. Your lips molded with his once more, and the sounds of what you presumed to be fireworks sounded in the distance.

 His breathing was heavy as you disconnected to catch your breath. Minho’s hands tilted your head to the side slightly, breathing you in softly, lips grazing your skin as you shuttered, your fingers gripping his sleeve. He licked his lips before kissing your collarbone, traveling up your neck, absorbing every gasp you let out. 

You feel his hand slide to the back of your head, angling your face down so his eyes can meet yours as he lays his forehead on yours. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you, y/n.” Your heart panged, searching his eyes for truth. He wanted you, Minho, your boss, wanted you. 

Your hands traced his bottom lip, and you blinked softly, “Take care of me then, yeah?” You whispered. He smiled gently, gripping your jaw and pulling you back. 

The both of you suck in a breath as Minho presses his lips to yours once more, his hand pushing your head impossibly closer. He wanted to feel you, meet with you in ways he’d only imagined. You were letting him give you what he thought was impossible for him. Truthfully, he would’ve liked to ask you out on a proper date. But this would suffice if it was what you wanted from him.

The two of you kissed for a while, gradually feeling and touching each other. Feeling what was never seen. Your body grew warmer, the buzzing centered to your stomach as you bunched up his shirt, wanting to feel his skin bare against yours. “Minho,” It didn’t mean to sound like a plea, “What is it? What do you want me to do?” His voice was breathy, low, needy, and ready to please. You couldn’t get enough. “Off.” You tugged at his collar. Barely even a second later, he began to unbutton his shirt. You wasted no time placing your hands on his sculpted chest once exposed, gulping as you stared at his skin. Absentmindedly gliding your manicured fingers across him.

Minho watched your every move, whimpering as your fingertips flicked his nipples. Your nails left gentle scratches, he licked his lips at the sight. He can’t recall ever wanting someone so badly, to the point he was painfully hard, closing his eyes and throwing his head back at the slightest touches you granted him. 

You wanted his reaction intensively, feeling his twitching member under you as you pinched and rubbed his nipples. His chest rose and fell at a somewhat hurried pace, the tips of his ears grew red, and so did his lips as he couldn’t stop licking and biting at them. It’s not like the action helped keep him quiet. His heavy breathing began to get mixed in with soft whimpers.

You smiled, “Who knew you’d be so sensitive.” You mumbled. “Sorry… uhm. I’m not usually like this.” You grinned at his hushed awkwardness. “Trust me, I don’t mind.” You whispered back, your hands continued tracing the outline of him. One by one you left open kisses on his neck, traveling up behind his ear. You sucked at his warm skin, “I hope the secretary doesn’t see what I’m leaving on you Mr. Lee, I think she might have a crush on you.” You said playfully, smiling against his clammy skin, sucking another bruise. Minho’s hands travel to the bottom of your skirt in response, pulling the fabric to bunch at your waist. He squeezes at your thighs as you find the spot that meets his shoulder and neck, his breath shallows. His hips bucking as you suck and nip at the skin. You were hot to the touch, it heightened the feeling of you on him. 

Minho isn’t sure how you got the one up on him, but he lets your hands wander to the buckle of his belt. He looks up at your face, your eyes full of determination as you swiftly take off his belt, unbuttoning his pants. He can’t help but smirk as he feels heat center in his stomach, “You’ve got me right where you want me y/n,” Your movements slow as you start to push his pants down to his ankles, “You’re the only one who’s ever gotten me like this.” Minho watches you bite your lip as he feeds into your ego. His eyes shoot down as you grasp his erection through his boxers. “Haven’t been this hard in so,” his voice shakes as your grip tightens “So long, fuck baby.” Your lips part at his words, looking up to see his head thrown back at the seat. You tap at his tip, the fabric starting to stick to his precum as you admire the bites you left on his skin. 

“Minho,” You call out softly, he opens his eyes to see you staring at his member. The look in your eyes almost makes him ask if you want him to take over. Your eyes were glazed over, your lips pouty as you tug at his boxers, he smirks slightly. “I’ll get these out your way, sorry baby.” Your pussy clenched around nothing at the use of the pet name again, it feels so good to be called that, the buzzing shoots to your core before centering again. It almost felt like a boost of arousal, you were too enraptured by the man in front of you to care.

Your hands returned to his stiffened member as soon as it sprang free, you felt Minho tense at your touch. You looked up at him as you began to stroke him lightly. His eyes were hooded, he watched your hand quickly become slick with his arousal as you pumped at a careful pace. Minho licked his lips, noticing through his foggy mind how you still remained fully dressed. Your thighs only exposed because he decided to tease just once. Yes, his words earlier were to edge on your performance, but they were true. Minho has never been on the receiving end, he loved giving, if you told him to take over he’d do it gladly. More importantly, his need to please was strong, if pleasing you meant stepping back a bit he’s happy too. However, he didn’t anticipate his sensitivity to your touch. He hears himself whimper as your pumping speeds up, the rising heat traveling down to his member. He jolts as the pleasure intensifies. A hand hovers over your pumping one before holding himself back and placing it back on your thigh.

He’s starting to lose a battle, don’t cum, not yet, she’ll get bored soon and touch you somewhere else, don’t fucking cum. He chanted to himself, one of his hands moved to your ass, gripping as his other kept shelter on your thigh. You watched as he shut his eyes tight, his lips parting as he huffed out puffs of air. You smiled in triumph as he began to shake his head side to side, starting to lose his internal war, “B-baby… y/n, I’m gonna c-cum baby,” His voice was hoarse.

You tilted your head, sliding your pumping up to only his tip. His thighs jolted, his eyes opening as he started to look at you for pity. He only saw you looking at his dick dreamily, the heat in his stomach pulses. He swallows down his need to overcome you, opting to let himself relax.

Minho cursed, he groaned deeply, throwing his head back. His brain started to become unmanageably fuzzy. 

“Y/n.” He whispered, licking his lips.

His smooth thighs flexed.“You’re so good baby,” Your lips parted at his soft whimper.

You grin, slowing down your pumping, giggling as he whimpered trying to fuck your palm the heat causing his tip to pulse. “You like me huh, Minho?” Your words were teasing. You were met with an eager nod. Cooing, you slipped off your underwear. You looked into his brown eyes, just when you thought he let himself surrender fully, he had some fight left in him. 

He gripped your waist, biting his lip as he guided you over his throbbing member. You let him sink you down onto his warmth. You whimpered, Minho watched carefully, looking for signs of you needing him to take over. Only for him to get knocked down again, his brows furrowed as you brace a hand on his blushed chest, beginning to ride him. He stared at your clothed chest, your nipples hard enough for the outline to push past your bra and blouse. With heavy breaths his eyes traveled up your littered neck, finally landing on your blissed face. “Pretty,” He whispered, so soft you barely acknowledged it. His brain was swirling with only the image of you, the smell of you reminding him of a warm cabin.

You looked down at him, giggling at his starry eyes and beads of sweat, you were unaware of the state his mind was in. You were enthralled by the thought of him being so pliant. Never in a million years did you think your boss would be under you with a flushed face and a throbbing dick. You feel his dick pulse as he squeezes his eyes shut. Your hands make their way to his jaw, “Are you holding your cum from me, Mr. Lee?” His member throbs again. Your voice and playful words have him shaking his head, gripping your ass so hard you're sure there will be a mark, it stirs you on. “Want you to... To cu-cum first.” He whispered. Your walls flutter and tighten around him, Minho’s eyes snap open, lifting you off him, and you forget about his strength for just a moment.

You peered down to see his jumping member and quivering thighs, precum leaking and he tried to catch his breath. You didn’t let him, you swatted his hold away, ignoring his groan as you seethed him back into your warm hole. “Ah, fuck I can’t hold it, baby.” He rasped out, listening to how wet you were. You didn’t answer him, tuning out his winning, starting to chase your own high that's been building up while watching him. The buzzing started to spread. You gripped his shoulders, pushing yourself closer to him. Minho’s hand placed itself on your sweaty back, bracing himself. His other hand slid down to your thigh, grazing where he was buried into you. His grip tightened, spreading your slick puffy lips slightly. “Min, that's so good.” You whimpered. He hummed, burying his head into your neck. He shifted, widening his legs the best he could, and started to meet your thrusts. 

Your mouth formed an O, tears forming in your eyes as he hit the gummy spot you never reached on your own. Before you knew it your body began to go numb from the pleasure, the buzzing reached every inch of you in what felt like a millisecond. Minho felt your muscles detense, he whimpered as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He chuckled tiredly at the sound of your babbling. You finally needed him, you were close and god knows he is too. He fucked into you like you’ve unlocked a different part of him. 

“Gonna c-cum min.” You whimpered, “I know baby, I Know.” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, feeling his self control finally coming to an end. He grunts, taking a hand and reaching between your radiating bodies. You moan so loud you're sure any late night hikers would be able to hear you. Your thighs shake as if it feels you’re physically experiencing the color red, the buzzing now being heard in your ears, distracting you from your release covering his thighs as yours shake. Minho grunts before he bites down on your shoulder, seeing sparks of deep green as he squeezes his eyes shut, spilling himself into you as he starts to hear crackles of fire. 

When you close your eyes you're met with the visions of the man that’s under you. Images of his life, his milestones,  you feel what he felt all in the blink of an eye. The images seize, and you’re yanked out of the dreamy state, catching your breath. You gulp, slowly facing him. His eyes meet yours, “Did you see that?” he whispered. You nodded, your fingertips still buzzing. “I-is this that soulmate thing?” his voice slightly above a murmur. Your body tensed, “What?” He looked into your eyes, he could almost feel your fear, “U-uh nothing.” He lifted you off him gently, ignoring what the sight of his release dripping from you did to him. Minho watched as you straightened yourself out in the passenger seat of his car. His eyes glanced at the foggy windows before returning to your now tense form.

Were you his… soulmate? He thought it was just a speculation that scientists made up to give the single population hope. He cleared his throat, putting his softening member back into his boxers, and lifting his pants up. “I’ll, uhm… I’ll drive you home.” Minho licks his lips nervously as he puts on his wrinkled button down. He looked at the time on his watch, 12:57am. He moves to turn on the engine. 

“You believe them?” Minho glanced your way, taking in your question. “Do you believe what they say on the news?” He blinked, thinking of a proper answer as he started to drive out of the parking lot. “I mean,” He turned to enter the freeway. “If it’s on the news, there has to be some truth.” You took in his words, rolling down the window. “Y/n, the… symptoms that they described, that’s what just happened.” You frowned, looking out the window taking in his words. “I saw you, your middle school graduation,” you glower at him, his eyes were on the road, only glancing at you briefly. “I saw your first, and only relationship…” He paused, seeing your hands clasp together nervously out of the corner of his eye. He changed the topic, “When I… finished, I saw green, a forest green. And I heard fire, like a campfire.” 

You gazed at his side profile. Without a word, you looked forward. You gave him the directions to your apartment.

As he pulled into your driveway, you grabbed your purse putting it on your shoulder. Minho said nothing when you opened the door as soon as he came to a stop, not even giving him a chance to put the car in park. You stepped out, your heels clacking on the pavement. You took in a deep breath before bending down, coming into his view again. You looked at his longing eyes, waiting for you to say anything to grant him peace of mind. “I’ll see you on Monday Mr. Lee.” With that, you closed his door. Gulping down anxiety as you steadily walk to the entrance of your apartment.

-

Link to vote for this to become a series [click on me]!

[formulateez]

mission failed (TEASER) | op81 + ln4

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader x lando norris

genre: filthy smut with a hell of a build up summary: the last time oscar and y/n had their fun, lando had to hear all of it. out of playful retaliation, he tries to fuck with them as a joke, but it backfires and he ends up literally fucking with them. word count: definitely something over 4-5k words, it's not exactly finished right now note: for the sake of the plot, oscar and lando share an apartment in monaco and y/n has been friends with the both of them for quite some time now :D

warnings: 100% nsfw, threesome, lots of making out, oral (m and f receiving), just barely any mxm but its not really the focus here, someone gets restrained for a moment, use of pet names, definitely more but i have yet to actually reach the smut part! i also haven't decided if i wanna make it a dp fic or not... :P requested?: no, but @/ay7ton's reblog gave me the inspo for this fic so i felt inclined to write it bc who wouldn't wanna get tag teamed by landoscar :D

extras: dividers and banners made with template from @/cafekitsune !! gif is from @/oqiwans !! // also!! if anyone would be interested in being in the taglist for whenever i get to posting this fic, feel free send me an ask or a dm!! <33

Oscar listens closely for the sound of the door locking, almost guaranteeing a few moments of privacy. You could feel Oscar almost tense up, looking over to your left to glance at Oscar. Before you could have a chance to speak, Oscar's lips already found themselves on yours.

Despite your eyes widening, you don’t hesitate to return the kiss. It’s gentle yet still heated, leaving shivers trailing down both of your spines. Almost as if neither can get enough, the kiss deepens, and Oscar moves to softly push you onto your back.

Oscar's hands roam your body with familiarity, while your hands find a slight grip in his hair. Your hearts nearly pound in unison as you both knew that Lando could walk into the living room at any moment. The both of you fought to keep your situationship a secret, but the adrenaline from the risk of getting caught brought too much excitement to pass up. You find yourself consistently peeking at the bathroom door, almost bracing for Lando to interrupt the moment.

Oscar's lips softly graze your cheek as he starts to trail kisses down your jaw, making their way to your neck. You lightly grip Oscar's hair, silently warning him to not leave any visible marks.

Oscar’s lips briefly tug into a smirk before he softly whispers, “Pretty girl, you know pulling on my hair like that is just going to make me wanna mark you even more.”

You rolle your eyes as you tug him down by his hair to connect your lips again. Both of you were momentarily distracted and didn’t notice that the shower had just shut off.

Panic flashes through Oscar as he hears the door unlock, and he abruptly breaks apart from you. You almost didn’t want that moment to end, and you found yourself wishing that Lando would occupy himself just a little longer. You couldn’t help but want to steal a few more kisses from Oscar. With the way Oscar's final glance towards you appeared, it seems as if he thought the same. The both of you quickly situate yourselves and return to whatever you both were previously doing on your phones.

Oscar debates in his head before opening his mouth to speak. “I had fun watching those two Transformers movies with you earlier. I used to think the movies were kinda corny but they’re fun to watch with you.” You felt a slight blush creep onto your cheeks as a soft smile tugs at your lips. 

“Yeah,” you contently sigh, “I had fun too, usually people don’t really enjoy my taste in movies.”

Oscar returns your smile before taking a step towards you, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. Gently grabbing your waist, his voice drops to a low, intimate tone. “Speaking of which, I was thinking we could continue that fun in my room. Free from the worry of Lando wondering why we’re taking forever to clean up.”

[dorlilymylovesss]

James wanted to rip Regulus to pieces. The sight of his perfectly pressed clothes, the way he held himself with an untouchable air, as if the whole world was beneath him, made James's blood boil. But it wasn't just Regulus, it was the whole Black family. They treated Sirius like he was nothing, like he didn't matter.

The Blacks had nearly broken his best friend, twisted him to the point where he had almost stopped being himself. Sirius struggled to break free of his family's suffocating grip, and James had been there every step of the way, picking up the pieces they'd broken.

And now Regulus stood before him, the epitome of everything James despised. The same blood, the same name, the same privileges that had turned Sirius' life into a nightmare.

If James had the chance, he wouldn't even look at him or sit next to him. But today, unfortunately, he was forced to be alone with him in the same classroom.

He had two choices to ask for help in potions from Severus Snape or Regulus, both of this variants were terrible, but he had to choose Regulus because Snape would rather rip his head off then spent his time on him. But Regulus, to his surprise, had accepted his offer and agreed to help him.

James sat stiffly beside Regulus, every muscle in his body tense. He could barely believe he was in this situation, forced to rely on the one person he wanted nothing to do with. The classroom felt too small, the air too thick, and the silence between them was suffocating. Regulus, with his immaculate appearance and that infuriating calm, didn’t seem the least bit bothered.

"Do you understand this part?" Regulus asked, his voice as neutral as ever, pointing at a complicated section in their Potions book.

James gritted his teeth. He wanted to snap, to tell Regulus where he could shove the Potions textbook, but he needed to pass this class. And no matter how much he hated it, Regulus was good at this.

"Yeah," James muttered, not looking at him, though the truth was he didn’t understand a thing.

Why had Regulus agreed to help him in the first place? James couldn't understand it, and it was eating him. He wanted to believe it was some twisted game, Regulus's way of showing his superiority over him, of making him feel obligated and stupid. But as they sat in silence, Regulus didn't gloat or mock him. He simply explained the essence of the potion with a calmness that made James grit his teeth.

"You seem a little confused, but that's alright, this potion isn't as complicated as it seems. I have a book that should explain its nature perfectly. Wait here, I'll be right back to get it."

James nodded curtly, his eyes following Regulus as he walked away.

As Regulus disappeared through the door, James slammed the book shut and rubbed his temples.

And that's when he noticed the small notebook that Regulus usually always carried with him, on the table.

He had always wondered what he was writing in it. Perhaps he was describing some forbidden dark spell that could make a person suffer like crucio. Or something worse.

Curiosity took over. When Regulus was out of sight, he hesitated for only a moment before reaching for the notebook. It was small, bound in green leather, with a snake-shaped clasp that closed it securely. God, how corny. His fingers fumbled with the clasp, and he briefly considered the possible consequences of invading Regulus' private thoughts. But the curiosity was too strong.

He managed to open the notebook without a sound, and he stared at the pages in utter disbelief.

The first page had a drawing of Sirius sitting by the fireplace.

Next was a picture of a smiling Barty and Pandora, drawn with colored pencils.

Continuing to turn the pages, James saw more intimate drawings - scenes from different places, moments that seemed to have great meaning to Regulus. Notes were scribbled in the margins, observations about each person and snippets of thoughts.

When he reached a particular page, his eyes rounded. It contained a picture of James himself. He was standing in his Quidditch uniform, holding broom with his hand.

He flipped to the next page, hoping to find something to dismiss the drawing as just a picture with no deeper meaning, but instead he found something more. Regulus drew various moments that seemed to revolve around him - James' triumphant expression after winning a match, his laughter during a joke, even the quiet, pensive look he often wore when he thought no one was watching him.

His hands trembled slightly as he flipped to the last page of the notebook, which was different from all the others. It was completely filled with his name.

James, James, James, James, James, James, James, James, James, James, James, James, James, James, James, James, James, James, James, James, James, James, James, James, James, James, James, James

James's mind raced.

Was Regulus in love with him?

The door creaked open and Regulus appeared with the same neutral expression on his face that he always had. James, who only moments ago had slammed the notebook shut and thrown it back on the table, sat with a flushed face. Regulus didn't seem to notice the change in the surroundings on the table, he simply set the book aside and continued explaining the potion.

"Are you alright?" Regulus' voice was even, almost too calm, as if he didn't notice the storm raging inside James.

James answered as calmly as he could without giving away the chaos inside. "Yeah, just... just need to focus."

As the lesson dragged on, James couldn't escape the feeling that the dynamic between them had shifted irreversibly. The notebook had opened a door that James wasn't sure he wanted to walk through, but now that it was open, he couldn't ignore the new, uncomfortable reality.

"If you need any more help with Potions," Regulus said in a measured tone, "Just let me know.

Their lesson was already over, which made James sigh in satisfaction.

The moment he was outside the classroom, he leaned against the wall, trying to clear his head.

[shhh-secret-time]

is me again hiiiii:•)

you don't have to do it right away, but the sp writing fandom is pretty busy with irl stuff from what i can see and i'm literally dying of withdrawals from no lovesick-idiot mccormick like its such a vital need for me to be alive. suave kenny is great, but STUPIDLY red-faced kenny fumbling a corny pickup line? [SLAMMING THE TABLE]

if you have a crumb of anything at all with kenny being a dummy when it comes to his lover, spare please if you want actually i'm not forcing give it now it's ok 🤲

ALSO HOPE UR DOING OK!!! :•D

- 🪼

Well hi you! I'm glad to see you back! I hope you guys don't mind that I combo'd yours together again! I'm so glad more of you are asking for Kenny! I couldn't resist the "Can't take a compliment to save his life" Kenny. Because same.

Warning: NSFW, Strong Language, Bad Flirting, Praise Kink

Pairing: Kenny x GN!Reader

The way his hair lays across your lap makes it look like little strands of golden thread. Such a peaceful look on his face would make any man jealous. That little thought tickled the front of his brain, how lucky of man he was.

Kenny opens his eyes just a bit, heavy lids beckoning him to close them again. It takes all his willpower not to listen to the sleepy siren song. But how could he even consider that when you look so beautiful.

He takes in every little detail he can. Watching your eyes move across your phone, it's hypnotic. You're not paying attention to him and sometimes he likes it that way. Getting to admire you in peace like this, without you trying to hide the things he loves so much about you.

But sure enough, when you feel his loving eyes on you, you stop and raise a brow down at him. He can't stop the lazy smirk that tugs at his lips. It makes you smile in return and Kenny feels his heart pounding in his chest.

"How's the most beautiful person in South Park feeling?" Kenny purrs up at you.

His flirting makes you chuckle and run your fingers through his hair. It only encourages him, you know that. Just a bit of attention from you and he becomes an addict wanting more and more. All you did was smile and laugh, and he's already pushing for more of that sweet sound.

"I don't know, how is he feeling?" You hum softly as you push the shaggy bangs out of his face.

You have to stifle back another laugh when you see his eyes widen. Even more so when a small blush begins creeping up his neck. He'd be lying to himself and any God that was listening if he thought you were going to shoot back like that. His heart wasn't ready, not by the way it slammed against his chest.

"You're a big flirt Angel. C'mon now, don't upstage me at my own art." He says trying to recover from the little counterattack.

"But Kenneth," Oh the way you say his full name. Even in that playful tone, it would make him stand at attention. "You're the real piece of art here."

And oh, the way your fingers trace down his jawline, like you're trying to memorize all his features on touch alone. Kenny's breath hitches in his throat, hoping that you don't feel the way his face heats up under your touch.

"S-Sweetheart. You're laying in on a little thick."

"Am I? I don’t think I tell you enough."

How can you sit there and tell him something like that so easily? The shade of your eyes holding such a deep passion. You look at him as if he's the most precious thing in the world, like the most devoted would their God.

"I don't think you hear it enough. I love you, Kenny. I love you so very much." You pause for only a moment, "From the way you smile at me with that earnest smile. I know you're trying so hard…even when you're tired, you're smiling and it's so beautiful."

Fuck.

"Oh, and the way you take care of those around you. I could go on for hours about how I adore you for that. You always make sure other people are happy before yourself. That heart of yours is gorgeous."

Fucking shit.

"And the way your eyes light up when you get excited. Oh, it's so cute! Pretty lavender eyes, I get envious when they're not on me. How could I not admire you as art?"

But they are! Always! He wants to tell you that, but the way you speak so softly. The way your voice drops to a whisper, tracing his lips as you speak. He can do nothing but open his mouth in awe. The blush on his face deepens and crawls up to the tip of his ears.

Just as he throws his arm over his eyes, burying his flustered face into the crook of his elbow, you let out a laugh. The sound rings out like a bell, a sound he wants to remember for the rest of his life.

"Kenny, don't hide from me baby~. Please." You know his weakness, a whisper against the shell of his ear in that pleading tone.

Kenny groans and slowly moves his arm away. He's barley able to look you in the eye. The way he tugs his bottom lip in between his teeth tells you everything you need. His face is such a deep red you think his skin is going to be permanently stained by that cherry color. In between nibbling on his bottom lip, the soft pink flesh quivers into a wavy line. From the way his fingers tap against his knuckles you know he wants to pull his hood up and pull the strings to hide his face.

So, you take them in yours and bring them up to your lips, pressing a kiss onto his bruised looking knuckles. You trail your kisses from his knuckles to the palm of his hand where you nuzzle into the warmth.

"And how could I forget these hands. These hands that protect people… these hands that hold me when I need it. The way you touch me with them makes me feel so loved." You hide the little smirk in his palm, watching the way he tries to hide into the side of your thighs.

"I-…I do love you. I love you so much." You think you hear him moan but it's hard to tell from the way his muffled voice barely reaches your ears.

If it was there’s no way you were going to let him hide them from you. You let his hands face go and cup the side of his face. Just like before you bend over and guide his face back towards yours. Your lips brush against his not quite kissing them yet, you want to see if his mind is still working.

Luckily, it still is. Once he registers that you've got your beautiful soft lips on his, he presses into them with a shaky breath. It feels like he can't catch his breath the way the kiss pulls the air out of his lungs. The rhythmic pounding of his heart picking up speed made its way up into his ears. Every time you pulled away traces of mint would make his mind hazy, only for your lips to anchor him right back in.

Kenny's kissed you before, plenty of times he'd ambush you and pepper your faces with an assault of his love. He’s snuck up behind you and dipped you in his arms, placing a passionate kiss before you could even register what was going on. A few times it earned him a smack on the shoulder or a punch but every time it was worth it.

Kenny's kissed you with want and need behind every little press of his lips. Everyone who knew him knew he was a physical lover, expressing admiration in touch. What better way to tell you how badly he craves you than with a long-drawn-out kiss?

Kenny kisses you with a toothache, how sweet you taste moving your lips across his.

He reaches up. His fingers through the locks of your hair, intertwining fingers through them so carefully one would think you were made of glass. His faded lifeline brushes against your chin and settles right on your jaw line.

His lifeline.

You.

"I love you." Kenny repeats himself.

"I love you too." So do you. Sneaking in the affection, weaving it between the kisses that just won't stop.

You can't stop, not when you can feel all the love, he's giving you. Normally it's his tongue that sings your praises. Kenny McCormick gave you all he had and more. He was a well of devotion and how you wanted to just keep pulling from him.

But sometimes you needed to remind him to take his fill. He could take from you more than he does, that it was alright to be a greedy man. That he didn't need to give so much without getting a little in return.

"No other man makes me feel like you do. When my time comes, I'll always remember you Kenny and all that you do." You whisper with that beautiful smile coming across that gorgeous face.

God if you only knew what you were saying to him. If you knew how heavy your words sat in his heart. You'd remember him? Through everything you'd remember him.

Your words echoed in his mind, your voice sounds like you are worshiping him. It should be the other way around. It's always been the other way around. He was put on this earth to serve, and when the universe gave him you, he was rewarded. Every time he felt the cold embrace of death, he'd wake up the next morning with his head in your lap.

Warm and safe. Home.

Does a man like him deserve more? Does he deserve to have his heart beating so deeply from your praise. Did he deserve to feel the way your lids lower, staring at him like he was the low lamp light of heaven?

"Can I tell you something Ken?" You start to say, snapping him out of the spell you've put him under. "I think I'd love you no matter what universe we were in."

Did you know just how much he'd do for you? The things he'd do to get back home to you. That there wasn't a god or death in the universe that would keep you from him. What he would do to anything that tried to get in between the two of you?

That was it. This is what was going to take him out, but if it was you maybe he wouldn't care.

Luckily it doesn't, not this time anyway. Kenny pulls away from your touch, sitting up with his back facing you only for only a moment. He knows he hasn't said anything in a while, but his silence doesn't scare you. You know him better than that. You know him better than any person has even bothered to.

He twists his body until he's facing you with either leg resting by your hip. His knees propped up to cage your body with his. Hands find home on your waist, pulling you into their lap. Kenny tilts his head like he's going in for another kiss.

"I know we would. I'd find you and give you my heart every time." Confession never sounded so saintly, not by the way Kenny says it.

The blond doesn't even seem to mind that his face is still a deep crimson, that he's all but shaking while holding you. The man's a lovesick fool.

"And I'd give you mine. My Kenny."

"My Angel."

Lips connect again ending the praise and sweet names. Hands begin exploring bodies, mapping every inch of skin. Calloused fingers push up against your soft skin and Kenny can't help but damn himself for how rough they feel against you.

But you seem to love it. You seem to love everything he does. When the pads of his fingers trace up and down your spine it makes your arch your back, chest pushed into him. The barrier of clothes has never really been a problem for Kenny, but tonight they were the source of his frustration. He needed to feel you against him, to touch you and feel that warmth that makes his skin buzz.

When your shirt is peeled off you expect him to dive straight towards your flesh like he had done so many nights like this. Instead, his hand comes up to the back of your neck and he presses his forehead against yours. He calls you an angel again, reminding you that you’re his, before his eyes trail down your form.

Why couldn't he just put into words how you made him feel? Put it in a way that wasn't a stupid pick-up line or some filthy comment. Kenny wishes he could just tell you, tell you how you're the only thing that makes him feel like this. He wants to tell you all the things you're so quick to tell him. But he can't. He can't form love on his tongue like you. He forms love on his tongue the only way he knows how.

His head dips down right where your shoulder connects with your neck, pressing a kiss into tender pulse of your heartbeat. Hoping it'll carry down your body landing right where it needs to. The pleased sigh it pulls from you tells him that's exactly where it went. Kenny speaks to you through chapped lips on skin trailing down your neck. Where he'd normally leave red splotches, tonight he leaves promises.

I love you. - a kiss on your collarbone, he lays you on your back against the bed.

You mean everything to me. - he bites your flesh and swirls his tongue, tasting you.

Don't forget this, don't forget me. Please. - he begs with a shaky sigh as he comes up for air only to dive right back to the other side of your neck.

Your hands slip into the folds of his orange jacket to push it down his arms. He tears himself away from you just long enough to grant your silent request. Sitting on his knees, he tosses the jacket to the side where it disappears somewhere in your room. Next is his worn-out tank top that leaves him bare to the cool air.

"You're so pretty Ken." Your voice and hand beckon him back down as you trail fingers up his chest.

He groans into the crook of your neck followed by a soft moan. He can feel himself slipping each time you compliment him. The feeling fuels him further, tugging your bottoms off. You feel him fumble for a moment until his thumbs hook into the waistband of your underwear, there he smooths out the flesh under them with the pads of his thumb. Rolling your hips up against him, you can feel just how pretty he thinks you are.

"M'gonna make you feel so good baby." He promises as he finally removes the clothing separating you.

He finishes removing your underwear and starts working on the rest of his clothes. Pants with a silver chain on the side and boxers that only served to keep him away from you. His silver necklace dangles off his neck between the both of you as he crawls back over you. Somewhere along the way he hooks his arm under your leg, pushing it up towards your head. His other hand follows by skimming up your thigh and gathering it up into his palm. They guide your legs apart, opening you up for him.

"I know you will." You laugh. Not at him. But in a way that's so carefree, "You always do, you're so good to me."

Kenny's hips buck forward in response pulling another sweet moan from you. Another one of many he hopes. He bites his lip when you take his member into your hands, gently guiding it into your warmth. It's slow the way he nudges the tip against you, opening you further to him. He wants you- needs you to memorize every inch of him so he takes it slower. Sinking further into you until he bottoms out.

Moans mix in the silence of your room. Until you lull your head to the side with that same pleased smile. "That's it. You feel so good Kenny. Come on love, have me like only you can do."

He almost feels bad when he squeezed your thigh, so sure that you'll complain about the bruise later, but you know what you're doing. You know praising him lead to this point, even if that wasn't your intention. To pull a gasp from him was just a little treat, one you were happy to have again and again.

When he drags his cock out of you, you mewl and squirm under his grasp. Your back arches again trying to encourage him to take more of you. Every long drag brush against your walls, every move feels calculated. He knows your body, knows where to push and grind to pull every sweet sound out of you.

Every time you call out his name, he feels his control lose and any other time it wouldn't be a problem. Right now, he hates it, he wants to take this slow and show you what you mean to him. But he can't, not when you press a kiss onto his throat whispering praise after praise into his pale flesh.

Kenny's hips snap forward, long slow thrusts have turned to sharp quick ones. "Say it again." He pants in-between each slam, "tell me you want me."

"I want you! God, please!" You cry out just as you wrap your arms around his neck.

"Again!"

"I want you, Kenny!"

"Fuck!"

He can feel it, he's at the end of his rope. That fire at the pit of his stomach is raging, consuming too much, but he can't finish yet. Not when you haven't. He inhales trying to focus on making you feel good. Making you feel like the way you should, but it's so hard when you're clenching around him and saying all the things that make him weak.

That's when he hears it, the way your tone pitches up an octave. You're not moaning anymore, they're silent cries of pleasure. Your nails dig into his back, and he hisses, you're close. So close.

"Ken- I'm gonna…I'm gonna cum!"

He doesn't even register when you do, not when you pull his own release from him. Kenny's moan is muffled by the way he turns his head and captures your lips again just as he spills himself into you. His cock twitches and throbs inside you, where he stays locked and connected for a few more beating moments.

A breath.

Shame washes over him, this was supposed to be about you. He was supposed to take his time.

A heartbeat.

Show you just how much he loves you because this was all he was good at. All he was ever going to be good at. Using his body to-

A laugh. Yours.

You're giggling and peppering kisses across his face. Gentle hands cup his face and hold it there. That smile that wakes him from the internal battle he put himself through.

"Kenny! You're crushing me baby!" The way you say it makes him think you don't really mind. The way you kiss his nose makes him think you're just happy he's in your arms. The way you hold him makes him think. Why'd he ever wants to be anywhere else. He smiles and presses his lips into your cheek blowing a kiss, lips make your skin vibrate.

Kenny’s just happy to have a home.

[emeryleewho]

My post about quality critiquing is still going around and it's reached a whole new group of people who seem to think it's a flop, not because it's "too nice" as many of the early critiques said, but because it's "not nice enough".

I don't know how to tell y'all this, but the point of critique is not to be nice nor is it to scathing. It's to be *informative*.

A review that says "this book is trash and the author never deserves to write again" isn't trash because it's mean (though it IS mean, and unwarranted). It's trash because it literally says nothing. I know nothing more about this book than I did an hour ago. I know more about the reviewer (and the general asshole energy they have) than the thing that they're reviewing.

A review that says "This book does nothing more than tie a bunch of corny tropes together with weak prose and poor grammar that couldn't pass a second grade English class through the lens of cardboard cutout characters with the emotional maturity of Teletubbies" is a FAR more scathing review, but at least it TELLS us something. If I'm the type of reader who actively seeks out the tropiest of stories, I can read this review and gauge that this actually might be an okay read for me because it sounds like this person is mostly frustrated with the elements of this story not being super original, and guess what, that's exactly what I'm looking for! On the other hand, if I HATE tropes or weak grammar, I can probably assume this won't be for me. This review is still eviscerating the novel, but it does so in a way that allows other people to draw conclusions from it.

And guess what, it's also written in a way that allows others to disagree with it! "Oh, you think the characters are emotionally immature? Well, in chapter 12, they discuss the complexities of blah blah..." Now, we can have a discussion among fellow readers and critics, which also leaves room for potential readers to see the discussion and say, "Oh, now I get why they felt that way. Sounds like I would agree. Or maybe sounds like I wouldn't."

The idea that every critique needs to be nice OR mean to a work completely misses the point. Sometimes you love something. Sometimes you hate it. Both of these are fine. The point is that if you're going to try your hand at writing professional (or even semi-professional) critique, you need to understand that critique is *also* its own written art that serves an actual purpose. If you just want to go be snarky on the internet because a book pissed you off, than this isn't about you, but too many people throughout publishing & education seem to think that critique is about people's feelings, and while feelings will always be a part of it (we're human after all), it's not *the point*.

And frankly, reviews are meant to be interpreted just the same as books are. There have been *scathing* reviews that actually convinced me to pick up a book because I knew the reviewer and I clearly had opposite tastes based on what they said made the book suck, and that's exactly how reviews are supposed to work. They're not meant to coddle an author's feelings OR lash out at them for writing something you hated. They're meant to give enough info that other readers can draw conclusions.

[taegularities]

hi! I don't think you'll remember me, but I'll try anyways. I was that one anon who once said that your writing brings me comfort, although I'm sure you get a lot of that, and it's still pretty difficult. I talked about the "a thousand reasons why" yjhd-based fic several months back.

I read your new work, the "you're okay" fic with yoongi. you said that it was something that you wrote to get your feelings out, or something along the lines of that.

You wrote about how you felt, but I felt heard. I swear I cried halfway, and I wish, oh, really wish I had someone like Yoongi in my life, or even tried seeking out for that someone. Because then I wouldn't have to suffer alone, right? but it's a worrying thought too, you want to stay away to not "infect" people around you, or burden them with your problems - at least, that's what I feel. and based on what you wrote, I think you feel that way too. it's been so hard to reach out for help, whether it's professional help or just a helping hand from a loved one. recently, I have tried therapy, and while it feels uncomfortable now, it feels nice to have an environment where my feelings don't go unheard. and I hope you have the time and the self-love to think about yourself and ask for help when you need too. In a way, we all need love and support, we just don't know how to reach for it.

I told you then, back when I sent an ask for the first time, that your writing provides me comfort. with your new work, I can confirm that this hasn't changed.

also, since it takes a pretty long time to introduce myself, and because I like how you reply to my messages (actually I love it, you're such a soft fluffy cloud on a clear pink sky for me and I love rereading what you wrote) I'm switching off anon, cause I want my celeb to know that I exist ^~^

awh, love, hi 😭 this is the sweetest and gentlest message, and you have no idea how much comfort it brought me, too. since you read you're okay, you can probably imagine that there are many good but also many bad days… so a lot of times, lovely people like you honestly bring me the peace i seek, and reading this ask was just what i needed this week.

first off, thank you for reading the fic at all. i know it's heavy and not for everyone; but yeah, i truly did write it to get my thoughts out without caring about its 'success' at all, but at the same time, i hoped that some would read it and connect with it and know that there's some hope left? might sound so corny, but the fact that you feel heard kinda shows me that i did something right here, and that my intention came through. i hope you find a yoongi for yourself, love, but you'll never be alone.

we don't see it and we truly do think we infect ppl, right? but someone's always around (i am, too <3 even though an online presence is different, i understand) – and i'm so proud of you for doing therapy. i really hope it yields positive results. and thank you sm <3 i have been doing my best to open up as well.

i'm beyond relieved and glad that you find comfort in my writing. even if i can help just a little, then that's enough. and i also feel so flattered that you think about me so highly 🥺 so yeah, i appreciate you being here and reaching out. kjsfnksaf i'm def not a celebrity hehe but i am super happy to meet you 💕

[juneleaf]

finished dragon age: the veilguard. 2/10 that shit was buns. combat was cracked out though. that aggro? fucking annoying. i need to see about who coded that shit. when it was good it's great when it's bad its fucking dogwater lol. looking at taash storyline. "i can only be rivaini or qun i cant be both or neither. and no YOU gotta choose. but i dont employ the same logic to my gender though 😀😀😀".

also why was bellara the one in their bar episode. i thought davrin was their bestie? also isabela isnt your wife trapped in the fade or something? go get her instead of waltzing around in that ugly ass fit

goofy ass crows. "heh... contract accepted 😏" x100. like what??? writing off house aranai as the drunk uncle at the family reunion. mandatory play through of all dragon age games for these devs NOW. girl fuck lucanis's ugly thigh high boots too! and why is he the most dripped out veilguard and rook only gets military uniform in 5 different colorways???

corny ass lords of fortune. "we dont sell culturally important artifacts but WE get to decide that" what if i start airing out this dank ass hole in the ground?

shoutout my girl neve though love her to death. her and bellara and also harding are like the best parts of the game. also sometimes makes it feel like its assan and davrin instead of davrin and assan.

shoutout to dragon age elvish for being the most shit sounding fake language. i get it not every fake language can be high valyrian pouring out of daenerys's mouth but fuck couldnt they at least have tried? rolled some Rs or something.

tldr; im ngl i spent half the game pissed cuz of the lyrium dagger bug. maybe that colors my opinion a bit but this game was still buns. will i still talk about it? yeah. i spent too much money to not post about this game. anyway if you still havent bought it just download a crack version lol

[iiusia]

2, 3, 4, 13, 21, 23, and 24! I WANNA KNOW ABOUT YOUR OLIVIAVERSE YES YES

2. Summarize this au in 5 sentences.

im always so bad at this kinda stuff but i will try my best

olivia saves herself and tries to slowly relearn how to live. eli's been saving himself every day for years. mariam tries to keep them (and herself) together. they love each other so much :(. it'll work out, eventually.

3. Did anything inspire this au?

lichrally any story ive read that has slice of life/bittersweetness TBH!! but for the latest thing id say the line tender by kate allen / après céleste by maude nepveu villeneuve (french book saurry)

4. What is a major change you made?

this story used to have magical realism with birds as a thouroughline but i ended cutting that part out i felt like it was Too Much for this story yk... but i do wanna end up writing magical realism sometime soon

(that's why there's a bird in the parking lot in that snippet i posted a while back!!)

13. Write a lil snippet set in this verse.

thought id give a little uni arc olivia + lauren (for the first time? i think?)

Lauren pulls the headphones away from her ear. "Anybody you want to talk to?" Olivia, who's sitting on the small couch bolted to the side of the ship, gives a dismissive wave. "No," she says, still typing away furiously at her laptop. Lauren frowns and lowers the headphones to her neck. "Are you sure? It's been two weeks. No one that needs to know that you're not dead?" Olivia's fingers still, and she shoots Lauren a quick smile, all teeth. It's somewhat tight at the edges. "Nope," she says, shutting her laptop screen and gingerly setting it aside. "It's fine. I'm going to go get some fresh air. All that screentime is starting to make my eyes hurt." She leaves before Lauren can get a word in edgewise.

21. What makes you most excited about this fic?

i just LOVE writing these guys. you dont understand they live in my head so much that putting them down into words is a relief. like i just think that a dynamic like theirs is so fun to write... its about the deep love its about the loyalty its about the care its about the you-might-mess-up-sometimes-but-i-will-love-you-anyways DO YOU UNDERSTANDDDDDD

23. Do you have other ideas for how to continue this au/other fics that could be written in the same universe?

honestly the way im writing this now its kind of just disconnected scenes for fun yk so i could write Literally Anything... BUT for the sake of answering this question i do want to write more scenes for what i call the uni arc (olivia moves away for uni and everything she's tried to ignore blows up in her face)

24. Ramble about something you haven't gotten to talk about yet.

okay. honestly. been trying to figure it out but i lowkey want to make this story christian in some way?? idk like theres christian poetry there's christian fiction (mostly fantasy) but i havent ever read a christian story with These Vibes you know. i want to write a good story that is also christian!! is that too much to ask!!! i have no idea how .... honestly everything i think of sounds cringe and corny but maybe thats the like. social conditioning talking. fantasy stories have it easy because they can have magic and stuff so its easy to integrate but for this story thats like. the POINT is that its realistic and down to earth and they're all just People trying to get by. i cant really make it an allegory or a metaphor yk? it has to be real .... but then if i say "olivia starts to believe in her uni arc and becomes a christian" that just sounds silly to me!! (or maybe. again. its just that the worlds pov is that christianity is corny and silly and it could actually be good but IDK!!!)

[yagamisdiary]

I have a love hate relationship with the fact that you enjoy making us suffer throughout the entirety of your books and making us think they will have a bad ending just to give us the best possible endings ever 🥲 ugh i love you so much youre my favorite author ever, while im here i apologize for the incoming paragraphs but i just need to say it:

1. Idk how you do it but the book covers you choose are always so perfect like?? Idk if im explaining myself but i feel like they capture the vibes of the books perfectly

2. Ok now this is kinda personal and i dont mean to sound like im venting, but have you ever read a fic that impacted you so much to the point where you find yourself still thinking about it to this day 😭 bc that's how i feel about both of ur books, they're so beautifully written and i'm always thinking about the characters or going back to read random parts of the books (edit: i had this paragraph written way before parasite was removed okay but i started rereading eldia yesterday because im truly heartbroken, devastated, downcast, miserable, dejected and inconsolable by the fact that its finished)

I discovered you in july-ish 2021 during parasite era but didnt actually read it until june 2022, i was devastated when i finished it but also had to cleanse my soul cause i accidentally burnt my self out during the last few chapters (i mean it in a good way lol, it was rlly hard to read the last 2 chapters 🙇‍♀️ they were written really well and i felt unsettled while reading the beginning of y/ns whole breakdown, i could feel the gloomy depressed vibe it had if you get what i mean), so anyway i moved on to Eldia. At that time, it was fairly new so there were only like 10 or 11 chapters, ive been keeping up with Eldia ever since and its truly bittersweet to see it end like i was literally full on sobbing for no reason 🥲 probably the sentiment of being a reader for 2 years idk lol. Anyway what im trying to say is that your books were one of the only things that helped me escape reality in 2022, i didnt really find joy in anything and hated my life, however ive definitely improved ever since, so im honestly rlly thankful for you Amara 💕

Edit: i just know it sounds stupid and youre probably tired of hearing the same thing over and over, but i've had this written out for like 5 months and was kinda scared to send it because i felt like it was corny, but with Eldia's resolution i felt encouraged seeing all these people tell you what they think :P so sorry for the long ass paragraph lmao, i just needed to say it because i know in 10 years ill be a grown ass woman and still thinking about these books, theyre attached to my brain forever (like a parasite, ironic)

Ok so i doubt ppl will read this (or that you'll even read all of it) so if you reached the end i must say that you actually ate with the baby names in Eldia 🤭 im saying it here to avoid accidentally spoiling anyone but Andromeda 😪 i remember in early july i sent you an anon ask saying that i pictured you as a girl mom and even listed a few names, i was gonna list Andromeda so its kinda funny to me 😭 and Elrose?? Andromeda is my fav name but Elrose grew on me and i actually rlly like it, idk why it just sounds and looks so satisfying OMG DAMN I JUST SCROLLED UP AND DID I REALLY WRITE ALL OF THAT?? IM SO SORRY AMARA 😭😭 i definitely had way more to say but i feel bad now, it was gonna be an anonymous ask but atp i'll just let it be public

to conclude i must say that whenever someone asks me what my favorite books are, i hate that im not able to say "Oh my favorite books are parasite and eldia" because they're considered fanfics and not 'real books', i think thats really stupid, not only because fanfiction is just as valid as what ppl consider 'real books' but because there are so many fanfictions turned into real books or movies?? Ok im done (for now) but as you can tell im not really good at going straight to the point sorry for writing about 10 paragraphs love you queen vivan las escritoras latinas 🤞

1. honestly i find a pic that fits the vibe i want the book to give before i even write the story then i just somehow find a way to incorporate the cover

ex) eldia’s cover is jean with wine all over him, iykyk there’s an exact scene in eldia that references the cover

2. thank u so much 🥲 the ppl who have stuck around the longest always say the most sweet stuff bc yall really have been alongside me for so many years now and were like growing together which is kinda cool

3. i wanted a name that had ambrose and elijah both in it and it was either elrose or embrose but i ended up liking elrose more, embrose was too similar to ambrose

4. i don’t mind the length of the message at all! i love love love reading all the stuff i receive and the ones that are the longest stick with me the most. 🫶🏼

[ciaossu-imagines]

Any long term reader of mine knows how dear to my heart the polyship of Hakkai/Reader/Gojyo is. Like, I am so incredibly in love with that polyship; it’s one of my self-ships…I just love the dynamics there! So, used the same prompt again and hope the Saiyuki fans enjoy the headcanons!

Who accidentally pushes a door instead of pulling/vice versa?

This is Gojyo. It’s usually when he’s drunk though, so he kind of has an excuse. Or at least, that’s what he’ll say!

Who doodles little hearts all over the desk with their initials inside them?

I feel like, though not a desk, Hakkai would have done this at least once on a scrap piece of paper. He rips it after he’s finished using it and it never gets shown to anyone because Hakkai likes to be a little secretive of just how much you and Gojyo do mean to him.

Who starts the tickle fights?

Out of the two of them, Gojyo would be the more ecstatic to find out that you are ticklish if you are. He really, really delights in pinning you down and being goofy, tickling you and having you smile and laugh and beg him to stop. He won’t stop until you’re squirming under him and breathless from laughter though…and let’s be honest, with all the squirming you did, he only stopped so that he could lead the affection in a much naughtier direction.

Who starts the pillow fights?

Gojyo starts them…Hakkai finishes them. I really don’t feel much more needs to be said there.

Who falls asleep last, watching the other with a small affectionate smile?

It could be you, or it could be Gojyo. Hakkai likes to get to bed earlier, whenever possible, while Gojyo likes to go out at night to the bar or stay up late. He likes when you stay up late with him but he understands when you need to turn in early too, and coming to bed and seeing your peaceful face is a nice sight to behold��his second favourite of your facial expressions, to be honest.

Who mistakes salt for sugar?

It’s you or nobody. Gojyo doesn’t eat a lot of sugar and Hakkai cooks enough to know where each is kept, and to keep them quite a ways apart.

Who lets the microwave play the loud beeping sound at 1 a.m. in the morning?

Gojyo is actually really good about stopping it just at the last couple seconds so that it doesn’t beep, actually…however, he never thinks to clear the time off the microwave, so that’s another issue in and of itself.

Who comes up with cheesy pick-up lines?

Some of Gojyo’s dialogue with women, just canonically, shows that he definitely does this every now and again. They just always come across as endearing or charming though, no matter how corny or trashy romance book dialogue-esque they would seem coming from anyone else.

Who rearranges the bookshelf in alphabetical order?

Hakkai is the more organized out of all of you. He likes to have everything in its place and pretty solid systems for organization and alphabetical is the most common one to use. Not only is the bookshelf probably in alphabetical order thanks to him, but the spice rack and medicine cabinet is as well.

Who licks the spoon when they’re baking brownies?

You and Gojyo always have a playful fight over who gets to lick the spoon…which almost always ends in him saying you can have it, you starting to lick the spoon, and him surprising you every damn time by licking the other side and then turning it into a steamy kiss, after which he always mentions that you taste particularly delicious.

Who buys candles for dinners even though there’s no special occasion?

I feel like little romantic gestures like this are very much Hakkai’s style. In all of his memories with Kanan, it’s not the big events or sweeping grand gestures that he remembers vividly, but all the little quiet moments and all the small day to day things that instantly pop into his head. It’s also why he likes making you tea or coffee and remembers how you like your eggs cooked.

Who draws little tattoos on the other with a pen?

While he loves you, Gojyo might just be childish to write ‘property of Gojyo’ on you for shits and giggles if you let him near you with a pen. Hakkai would remind both of you that drawing on yourself is a bad habit and very childish and you probably shouldn’t be doing that. So, you’d most likely be the one doing this.

Who comes home with a new souvenir magnet every time they go on vacation?

I feel that Hakkai isn’t really into materialistic gifts or things heavily and souvenirs aren’t a huge thing to him. Magnets hold no appeal to Gojyo but if he can, he likes to decorate with souvenir shot-glasses from places you travel to or might buy you a piece of cheap jewelry unique to a certain area you guys travel to or through.

Who convinces the other to fill out those couple surveys in the back of magazines?

Okay, but nobody, and I mean NOBODY, will ever convince me that Gojyo would not be all over those quizzes in Cosmopolitan…or that he wouldn’t read a lot of the articles in the magazine either.

[turvuren]

cAN I CAN I CANICANICANIIIII

CAN I ASK YOU TO WRITE SOMETHING #WHUMP ABOUT MOON!PHOSPHOPHYLLITE/LITTLE VERS!PHOSPHOPHYLLITE????

and at the same time I’ll share my thoughts on this topic, like, you can ignore them but I just wanted to share so yeah

Maybe Moon / Phos M/F uhoh

I think Phos barely knows Moon...Like, she saw him a couple of times but that was all🤔

Moon is damn tall. Imean...5'8-5'9"??????? And Phos, on the contrary, is a rather short huh, small cute and fragile >:з

I think they would have a small age difference, about a year..

In general, that's all I would like to say, lol, bro. You don’t have to include thoughts in general in the post if you do write something, but it would be great if they were in the post :0

lol i usually write rutile centric stuff 😭😭 I'm pretty indifferent towards phos but I'll try OK SO ive had this idea for a while... sibling phoses. i couldnt think of a way to write them with diff names without it sounding corny in eng, i liked genki phos anyways. like imagine his literal name being winter or moon... or by god, joy. lol

name should be self explanatory. genki - happy, so its the og phos. tsuki - winter. winter phos. tsuki - moon. thats it

cw incest sorry not sorry.

"What the hell is that fucker's problem?..." "What?" Phos shakes her head, gesturing at the man with the weird bucket hair and that weird prosthetic eye. Because no way in hell there's anyone with a natural white iris, right? And heterochromia doesn't work that way. Never does. Her roommate, some weird girl Phos doesn't even bother remembering the name of, just shrugs. "That's just how he usually acts. I think he's a third year." "Still a goddamn weirdo." Phos is messing with the vending machine when he comes across her again, and she just about screams in shock - until she gets a nice, long look at that stupid face. "...brother..?" "Hiya. Long time no see?"

There are 3 Phos's - at least in this small little town. The youngest, Genki, the middle child, Fuyuki, and the eldest half brother to Genki and Fuyuki - Tsuki.

See, Tsuki was a little bit of a brat. And a troublemaker. Genki had never met him, only told stories of him - don't ever turn out like your brother, yadayada, he had been a little bit more than just a handful after - "You're a murderer," Genki says, getting a bit scared now. "How...? Aren't you supposed to be in prison?" Tsuki laughs. "Parole, kid. Anyways, never really seen you in person. What's your name again...? Gen...?" "Genki. You're..." "Tsuki. Your beloved big brother-" "Hell no!" Genki backs away. "Look. Get the hell away from me. I've seen you, watching me these past few... everything! What do you want?" Tsuki laughs again, grating, grating sound against her ears. "What? Can't even look at my own little sister?" "Absolutely not. Go fuck yourself." "What? We just met and you're telling me off?" Genki shakes her head. "You're a damn criminal. I will NOT associate myself with the likes of you - now if you'll excuse me, I have CLASS-" He grabs her by the shoulder and presses his lips against hers. For a moment, Genki is a stunned, unable to react, but as her thoughts return she pushes him away. "What the fuck-?" "I'll make this quick," Tsuki cuts her off. "I'm single. Lonely. You don't wanna see your big brother-" "Cut it out with that big brother crap! You're not my brother, I only have one, and that's-" "Fuyuki? Oh, he's much more pliant compared to you, isn't he? But that's what makes me... endear you. You're so much more feisty, more personality." "I-" "Back to the point. Nobody likes me around here." "And what makes you think I do?!" "Well? We're family. You share my blood. My dirty, murderer blood." "That's not true. We're not even-" "Fully related? That's true. I guess you're only half murderer." "Cut it out!" "No." Genki grits her teeth. What an infuriating bastard. Not even anyone else comes close to this level of... of... "Look, Gen," Tsuki sighs. "I just want someone to spend time with little ol me. Don't you pity me?" Genki narrows her eyes. Maybe... maybe. He's... kind of making her feel bad. "Fine. What do you want?" Oh, but how wrong a decision that is.

Genki buries her face in her hands as Tsuki pulls away, cigarette smoke filling the hotel room. Bite marks over her exposed shoulders where the covers can't hide her shame. "Well? That wasn't so bad, was it?" Dirty. So dirty. This murderer ... and her. "You did a great job there, sis. Don't mope about it. Poison isn't so bad. At least he died quickly. Painlessly." "Painlessly? Really?" They're not so different, are they?

[mikichko]

Top 5 Fave Songs Right Now

Tagged by the absolute beauties @stellewriites and @dragonnarrative-writes 🥰💕

i've been in a yapping mood so apologies boos <3

🐍 Cobra by Megan Thee Stallion

A rap rock song?? About resilience and her struggle with trauma?? Count me tf in! No, but seriously I love Cobra and how Meg's one of the few female rappers that's been candid about her experience with trauma. Everything from the song title, lyrics, and video production highlights Meg's resilience. And in turn, helps me be proud of my own (corny!)

🥰💀 Romance del Enamorado y la Muerte by Diego Lorenzini

A musical take on a Spanish poem from an anonymous author. It's a tragedy of how this man tries to flee from death to be with his love. Ultimately, he falls and meets his end without reaching his love. I absolutely adore the sound of this song, it's akin to that of modern boleros. Whenever I feel homesick or miss the sound of home I play this :)

Fever by Inner Wave

In a time when I feel like cynicism is on the rise this song makes me feel so hopeful! It sounds incredibly dreamy and makes me just imagine a scene where you spot someone you're meant to meet from across the room. So so good

Ojala Me Olvides by Laura Itandehui

This song fuels my angst but also brings so much comfort to me at the same time??? The idea of wishing someone to forget you and your love?? Ugh. I love it so much, my neighbors must be so tired of hearing me sing this song

ETA by NewJeans

THIS IS A BOP!!!! I love this song so fucking much man. I love NewJeans sound and its such an upbeat little tune I love putting it on when I'm out walking. Does me so much good I swear.

no pressure tags (sorry for the double tags if any): @buttdumplin @kyletogaz @starsofang @gemmahale @xxshadowbabexx + anyone that had vanilla ice cream today :)

[jamiekb]

Listening to TMA for the first time (Part IX)

Part I II III IV V VI VII VIII

121-141

#121 Far Away: We really started off with a bang didn't we. I had honestly forgotten about this guy, but it'll be interesting to see him again (maybe, hopefully) or perhaps he really just came to give John a pep talk from avatar to avatar. And it's sweet that Georgie went to visit John, I really like her, I certainly hope nothing more happens to her please. Did she recognize Oliver as the End? Or why did she wanna catch up to him?

#122 Zombie: Funny statement to grab before John woke up. So Georgie is fine but she's gonna take a step back. What happened at the Institute, I'm sure nothing good with Lukas in charge but is Martin okay?? Where is Melanie? What happened that they had to get rid of stuff, did something attack? And I just thought how does it work for the main place for the Eye to be under supervision from some other Fear?

#123 Web Development: Good to know everything's gone to shit. I feel just as off-kilter as John must, like walking into the middle of the action and you're constantly trying to keep up, solid writing and directing on the team's part. So Melanie has basically the same attitude as Tim but more intense, Martin is isolating like John used to (or has been forced into it), Basira is still our solid rock and John is still trying to come into his own just in a slightly different way. I haven't mentioned it but that's really cemented by the fact that John has stopped saying his position and is now just The Archivist, then again he was changed. Regarding the statement it's kinda interesting, love how John (as the actual writter of the show) can make digital things sound spooky, I feel like many people struggle with that, it always seems a bit corny, but not for TMA.

#124 Left Hanging: Not much of an opinion on the story, I prefer the other stories for the Vast. But it is interesting that Martin is really going out of his way to avoid John, like I know he's following orders from Lukas and is probably very shaken from basically loosing John but it's still very weird. Can't wait for many more episodes of this before this dinamic changes, not.

#125 Civilian Casualties: Ok so now something is possesing John??? Is it Gertrude with her knowledge or just like the Archivist spirit? merging with him? Well in any case it seems that Melanie might be a bit more stable now, good when many Fears are waiting to attack them. And again John is a collection of different scars.

#126 Sculptor's Tool: I stand corrected apparently, that was a whole lot. Ok so now the statements are getting a bit more obvious with how they relate to what is going on or relevant for the Institute. So now Martin is an assistant for Lukas who is avatar of the Lonely. That's why he's keeping Martin away from everyone and especially John, though I'm guessing there's a second part to that in that John is the Archivist and that somehow interferes with whatever they are trying to stop. What are they trying to stop by the way? Another becoming for something else? Peter mentions the bigger picture, something other than the rituals, and that's what he needs Martin for, thus why he needs to gather more energy for the Fear. Still cryptic but I guess it all boils down to, it's gonna be a bad time for Martin. Wonder if its the Institute that's gained some sentience or just the Eye that's "listening" to the tapes and appearing the recorders. Wonder if John can listen to that tape or maybe have it just appear same as the devices, I'm guessing that would be a bit too simple.

#127 Remains to be Seen: I thought Jonah was a woman, nothing to it just a random thought. Anyway what will Elias tell Basira? I don't really know, maybe something about how Lukas is using Martin or how John is progressing. Melanie has mellowed out (haha). John is still a bit lost though.

#128 Heavy Goods: I almost feel bad for Breekon, it truly was lost. It seems to happen every once in a while, like when Michael became Helen. These things go againts their nature and thus are unmade in some way. Hope we get to "see" what Basira is up to, how she manages to wrangle a bit of logic from the nothing that are the Fears. And again more progression for John and his abilities, he's slowly coming into more power, wonder if he could rival Elias at some point. With some time he could do more about the knowing things and extracting stories from people/things. Already his questions are way more powerful and precise.

#129 Submerged: I'm gonna go with since John is much more elevated now that the Eye itself want to kinda help and is giving him those little pushes. You might not want the new abilities John but better to have them and know what they do than be caught unaware in the next situation. Also he sounds so awkward when he intercepted Martin, and poor Martin he just wants to keep John as safe as possible, cause the man just keeps getting beat up and has recently just died. I just hope you don't loose yourself Martin dear.

#130 Meat: Yeah no for this one I'm a bit lost. So something to do with a body is what John needs to get back? Like a corpse or like a person? If it's a person could it be Georgie? Cause if it's a corpse I really don't know who he could use, unless Jan Presntiss' ashes count. I do agree that the church can be fascinating, living a bit of that myself at the moment. Gertrude really was quite pragmatic, wonder what that means when John can't shake off the last of his humanity, nothing good for him I'm sure.

#131 Flesh: Great sfx for the rib taking part, though I still couldn't quite hear all of Jared's statement I'll maybe go back and read it. Again, will there be anything left of John? Wonder if he can like regenerate them, or at the very least not be bothered by loosing two ribs. Nice to see Melanie work out her feelings and John understanding his friends a bit more. And I hope we get to see more of Helen, I like her/it. It doesn't seem to be truly malicious at this point in time so I'll take it. I like Basira but not that big of a fan of her wanting to keep John in the dark, I'm sure she thinks it serves a purpose, but what could it be?

#132 Entombed: Such a good episode!!!! Sometimes when I'm litening to an episode I would like some visuals, like when it's a statement about the Vast or the End, or the Stranger as well, but for this one nothing could better convey the feeling of not being able to reach out to someone you know is close, all encompassing earth not letting in a single ray of light. A black screen I'm sure would just distract from the feelings that Daisy lets out and their fear of just being trapped forever. Also, what were those voices??? Like were Basira or Martin doing a shitty summoning of John just putting on a bunch of statements? Just a coincidence and it was John as he tried to concentrate?? Hopefully that gets explained

#133 Dead Horse: Did Basira get tangled up in a Fear? She's just going round and round, you can't really rely on her anymore. Maybe she still didn't make it all out during the Unkowing, or it just isn't like she wanted it to be. Interesting theory on the Hunt. Seems kinda ironic that in trying to change the world they get lost in the Chase and don't want it to end.

#134 Time of Revelation: Revelations indeed, that was quite a bit of outright explanation. Then we have two rituals to be looking out for, the Eye and stop the Extinction. For the later Lukas is trying to recruit Martin after he struck a deal to protect his friends at the Archive I guess. And I didn't recall the name of the claustophobia thing being Too-Close-I-Cannot-Breathe but it makes sense of course. Ah so it was Martin that put the tape recorders on, but what compelled him, the Eye? Maybe even the Web since it likes to pupeteer people?

#135 Dark Matter: Finally the last statement from the space exploration, it was not what I was expecting. So Elias is one of those enemies that not even distance keeps you safe, almost feels like he's from the Web and not just the Eye. He's not wrong that it wouldn't have happened without Basira there, but I don't really like it. Still I wonder if Elias knows that now John is aware of it.

#136 The Puppeteer: Nice to see Neil the animatronics guy return, he sounded cool and the concept of him being a puppet bit by bit is quite interesting. So more movement so to speak from the Web. But I don't recall this Alison lady, in any case it was a nice bonding episode for Daisy and John, I do like them together (platonically). So Basira is off to investigate so I'm guessing this connection with Daisy will help John stop the Darkness thing. And was the therapist a whole thing or just Melanie hating recordings now?

#137 Nemesis: Damn at this rate I'm gonna have to keep track of which rituals have failed and when. The again it is pretty obvious only two are relevant at the moment. I'm guessing the one from this statement is what I usually refer to as the War, but apparently it's proper name is Slaughter. I need to go back to that episode where they list them, so I can keep them clear. As to the tapes that John is finding I'm sure that Elias is prefectly aware of what he listens to and when, just like he said to John when he complained about being fed information bit by bit.

#138 The Architecture of Fear: Yay, more Elias. I do like his voice but of course as not that his purpose is being obtuse about information and kinda playing everyone at the Institute. Well in any case it is nice to have it confirmed that there is a new fear emerging, they're actually gonna try to end everything as we know it, to the point where the other ones want to stop it and that Martin is trying to help John as much as possible through reading the statements. Which actually I have a question about that, does he still listen to the tapes because he feels compelled or does he just kinda soak up the knowledge because he's the Archivist? In any case poor Martin, the Lonely really isn't great for him and he hasn't even like sworn himself in properly.

#139 Chosen: What did you see John??? Or was it just too much effort? Anyway it was cool to have another nice wrap up (or as close to) for the Lightless Flame. Again, we knew quite a bit but it was still a bit scrambled. I'll be honest I could do with another listen to fully comprehend but I'm pretty good with what I managed to understand so far.

#140 The Movement of the Heavens: Ok interesting duo, Basira and John, I do like Basira but she's been a bit iffy the last few times. Anyway this will be they're what second or third time derailing a ritual? The Darkness like they have said in the past can sometimes be a bit meh. Although I do like the imagery of the intense nothing that is just slightly different from the Vast, also the weird thing they do with the water.

#141 Doomed Voyage: Damn John you're really coming into your own I see. And yes I agree a bit hypocritical of you Basira to feel uncomfortable about what John can do. Many a time you've basically bemoaned that he didn't have control of his abilities, well now is the time you want him to have more, whatever abilities those may be. Never forget that as much as John wants to be "good" he's at the mercy and whims of the Eye, after all he started on this path because he always wanted more information, no matter the cost. Anyway cool to see more on that front and of course tie up more loose ends. A few chapters ago I was wondering what had happened to Salesa when John read his statement so I guess now I know.

I'll just leave at that because the next seems quite interesting from the description and this is getting quite long

[dreaming-of-the-endless]

Tuck Me In and Walk Among Dreams

You can tell the paper had been expensive, thick even. A twist of black ribbon tied to the hole punched on top of it. Words, bold and serif simply said: “Tuck Me In and Walk Among Dreams.” At the back was a drawing of the bookmark pointed at a book and a person tucking the book under their pillow. A small bubble indicated the person was now dreaming of the book.

Or you may have found a magic bookmark and found yourself facing the same thing over and over again.

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

AO3 LINK

You were in an antique shop; the smell of the old and aged tastes sweet in your mouth.

Alas, you’re only window shopping. Money was tight, so you settled on gazing or tracing objects you knew you’d never trace again. Not unless you return with that sweet, sweet cash.

Yet, in the end it was not the old books, rusted furniture and things tied together by strings that caught your eye. In fact if you were a little more discerning you would have missed it all together.

In a box, tucked away and piled with old notes and letters long forgotten, you saw it.

It was a bookmark.

You can tell the paper had been expensive, thick even. A twist of black ribbon tied to the hole punched on top of it. Words, bold and serif simply said: “Tuck Me In and Walk Among Dreams.” At the back was a drawing of the bookmark pointed at a book and a person tucking the book under their pillow. A small bubble indicated the person was now dreaming of the book.

Interesting…but also…

It was unremarkable: you have seen better, prettier bookmarks – made of gems and gold and deft fingers to mark a pause in your book. Hell, even the words sounded corny but as you twisted and turned the thing, something screamed for you to buy it.

It was ridiculous. It was a bookmark.

But it cost only one dollar.

So you bought it. If the cashier judged you for such a pittance of a purchase they didn’t say a word. Despite it costing you nothing, they tucked the little bookmark into an envelope – for safe keeping, you supposed.

You placed the envelope into your bag and then like most impulse purchases, forgot completely about it.

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

Your dreams did not.

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

You dreamed of a being surrounded by light and glass and it’s cold. A man comes and demands.

“Give me youth, power, immortality.”

“I cannot. They are not mine to give. Let me go.” You said calmly, like a teacher educating a rather slow and dim child. He’d snarl and leave but you remain locked up. You’d cry, the tears felt hot on your cheeks, your breath steamed the glass so you did not notice.

You’d wake up just as the reflection cries back at you.

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

Work was a tiring slog that ensures you have food and house above your head. You look forward to going home, to read or watch or listen to songs each day. You accepted this was now your reality, you had come to terms with it – to do otherwise was insanity.

“Have you read the Sandman comics?” your colleague asked. He was one of those men – cheery and childlike even as three decades approached him. You don’t mind it – in this day and age it seemed as if everyone had either retained that childlike wonders – you think it’s because all those adult milestones have become near impossible to achieve.

“Just a volume here and there,” you said, remembering the time you checked for online scans when the show was announced.

“Did you finish it?”

“Not really but since the show’s coming on…”

He shoved some volumes at you; exclaiming its virtues, from writing to its art and its impact on mainstream culture. You don’t ponder too long why he does this. This was what he was – you were one of the few people in the office who enjoyed Western comics, most of the others were into Manga – and you don’t blame them. He continued rambling that it’s rather self-contained and the continuity was not so convoluted. There were 75 volumes and some spin-offs but nothing like the Gordian Knot that was the continuity of most popular comic titles.

(You tried to dip your toe into the Marvel and DC Universe and came out regretting everything.)

You promised to read them and return them once you’re done. He looked like he could not wait. You’d like to think it’s because the show was coming out and he just wanted someone to – in his words – squee – about it.

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

You were on the train – bored you took one volume to read. It was a rather interesting story: of an immortal being ensnared by a magician – who then created a cage of pure glass to trap him. And every night the villain would demand to the cold and unspeaking being:

“Give me youth, power, immortality.”

Your fingers paused, your eyes strained to read the words.

No, those were not unique words. Any villain worth their salt would demand those things.

(You can feel the coolness of the glass, the stillness of the air and the heat of your tears)

The train stopped and you’re shaken from your reverie – you dipped into your bag and found an old forgotten envelope and slipped it at where you had stopped.

Normally you’d dog-ear them (heresy, you know) but this was not your book and you were not such a heathen that you’d ruin another person’s property.

As work flew behind you and you entered your apartment, you did your usual ablutions and slowly destressed. Despite what happened earlier you took the volume with you.

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

You dreamed.

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

You were there, in the basement, the cold stones seeped into your feet as you stared at the large glass cage in front of you.

“Give me youth, power, immortality.”

You rolled your eyes and without even thinking you blurted: “Oh, fuck off.”

The villain stared at you and you stared at him and you ignore the one in the glass because what on earth made you say that?

The man, Roderick, backhanded you so hard you fell to the floor. Pain lanced up your lips as you clutched your face, feeling blood trickling onto your fingers.

“How dare you? You dare tell me to fuck off? YOU?” he started to rage and you’re unsure how to react because why does it hurt? Why does this hurt – this a dream!

Then, quiet as it was loud, Roderick stuttered, “-wait…who are you?”

You feel stars piercing through you but you merely turned to stare back at Roderick, confused and hurt.

The world spins and you swore you felt sand between your fingers.

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

You’re back in the basement, standing behind Roderick, the pain is gone and as you touched your lips, no blood touched back. The magus demanded again, the same three things as starry eyes stared back, uncaring –

Wait, no.

The man in glass wasn’t staring at Roderick.

He was staring at you.

Something clicked in you: this is a dream. A lucid dream.

You had them before, had them and had felt pain, fear and all other senses. It was rare but it happened. The man in the glass – Dream, Morpheus, the Sandman -? Oh yes you were reading weren’t you? Reading and had fallen asleep, of course.

Roderick began to rant, you didn’t give him the chance and as he leaned forward, spittle flying everywhere you punched him in the back of the head. The old man crumpled forward and you winced as your fist ached.

You look at Dream, feeling giddy with power as you stepped forward, eager to break the circle.

You forgot you were not alone.

Alex Burgess didn’t bother with fists, you hear a loud gunshot and there was great pain and you feel cold, so fucking cold and wow that’s a lot of bl –

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

You’re back in the basement, standing behind Roderick – your heart’s beating a million miles per second. You turned to look, remembering to pay attention this time. The old coot was not alone, Alex was there, so young and pale faced, there were a few men, decked with weapons standing nearby as Roderick demanded the impossible from his prisoner.

Dream stared at you and you could have sworn he looked concerned but that was ridiculous. You remembered that he was a stoic bastard with an infinite well of spite at this stage. It took the comics 70 years before he toned down his Dramatic personae but a smidge.

Still it was a dream – this time you managed to wrestle the gun away from Alex – this is a dream, you can kick ass here – and ass kicked you do and you reveled in it. It felt good, swinging like you’re some badass heroine, snatching guns out of people’s hands and shooting them dead and such.  

However, you soon learn that when it comes to close combat though – a knife was far more efficient than the gun in your hand.

One of the guards sinks a blade into your chest and before you could warn him to not pull it out – remember if you get stabbed leave the weapon in if not – well, he pulled it out and blood gushed out and it’s cold again and for fuck’s sake this was –

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

You’re back in the basement, standing behind Roderick.

Dream watches you and you ignore him – you spun your heels and marched up the door – you were outnumbered this dream is stupid and what good are you if you kept dying – you just wanted to set the idiot free – maybe there’s a fucking bomb upstairs that you can use – anything cause clearly you’re not kicking ass with whatever you have here -

…but as soon as you opened the door -

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

You’re back in the basement standing behind Roderick.

This time you screamed.

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

You tried everything – at one point you conjured up fire from your fingertips, nightmarish creatures with sharp fangs that tore Roderick and his useless posse to bits. But always – ALWAYS someone would kill you. It could have been a gun, a knife, the fucking cane – at some point you slipped on blood and cracked your skull. That had been embarrassing.

You had tried running, but as soon as you touched the door the dream resets.

“Give me youth, power, immortality.”

Followed you like a curse.

THEY WERE NOT EVEN IN THAT FUCKING BOOK.

At one point you didn’t wait, just ran up to the glass cage trying your fucking best to rub the circle out. For an old fart, Roderick was damn good at breaking your limbs. Sometimes he used his cane, sometimes Alex shoots you, sometimes the guard punches you until you can feel your skull cave in and what delight was that.

Dream watches you – his face marbled flesh.

You tried waking up. Sometimes when the dream resets you muttered, begged and prayed to wake up. But no matter how hard you were still there – back in the basement standing behind fucking Roderick.

You babbled to Roderick that Dream doesn’t give a shit – that Roderick will die and Alex will be cursed and it wasn’t fair you were there with them – none of them were real – just some dude’s figment of an imagination made popular. Roderick dismissed you, thinking that you’re lying, and whenever he believed you were some minion of Dream, had the guards take pleasure in slowly breaking every single bone in your body.

Sometimes he makes Alex do it. The kid would weep, his face covered in tears and snot but he’d still do it. You didn’t forget in before, he shot you without flinching.

And how you loathed them, him, this world and why won’t you wake up?

Dream does not speak. He does not move.

Why were you trying to save him?

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

You are standing behind Roderick. In the basement. The walls are made of soft vellum. The words were inky black and it bled to the floor.

Tuck Me In and Walk Among Dreams.

tuCk MEE In ANDd Walk Among DREAMS

dreams TMEE and WALK

W A L K

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

You’re standing behind Roderick down in the basement.

W A L K

You know what? You’re going to wait.

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

Roderick blusters and yells, Alex looked down to his feet and the guards watched all of us; not even masking how disturbed they felt. Eventually Roderick slammed his cane and turned heel – even as bloviated as he was, he had limits.

You waited as they left wondering how many circles of this weird ass dream can you go before you try to maybe crush Roderick’s stupid eyeballs into his skull again when you realized

You were alone. Some part of you were waiting for Roderick to teleport back – say those damn fucking words and you wondered if the waking world you had gone into some coma when you realized.

Nothing was happening.

Dream stared at you.

You. Alone.

A breath escaped your lungs. You didn’t dare to think, you just walked; each step free from death and distraction until you reached the edge of the circle. Dream’s eyes widened and you wondered how could someone like him even see you when all of the universe were in that face of his.

You used the edge of your shirt and with one hard swipe, broke the circle.

The Endless shot up as shocked as you are calm.

You can feel sand again, twirling between your fingers, rough, coarse and irritating.

But oh, so welcoming.

The walls were vellum and it made the basement feel brighter against the vortex of sand and not even the inky words could darken it.

“Thank you.”

He whispered and the world spins as you finally, finally wake up.

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

You are sitting in your bed, the comic fell onto your lap, the envelop marking the page peeled back to show the bookmark you bought. It was still dark and you felt somewhat rested and worn out at the same time. You flicked your bedside lamp and pondered the objects on your lap.

For a moment you wondered if you had, perhaps been drugged or maybe you ate something horribly wrong before sleeping. Lucid dreaming that vivid could happened under various circumstances but – to be honest you never had one so fucking vivid before.

You pulled of the bookmark from the envelope; feeling the vellum texture and words in your hands. “Tuck Me In and Walk Among Dreams.” Stare back at you. Feeling exhausted you pull it out before you noticed something.

The comic book was open to the page where Dream was about to escape. Except that wasn’t it – you remembered him being drawn stuck in a ridiculous glass cage, nude as the day he was born. That wasn’t the bit that caught your attention.

Not the fact that Dream was standing amongst broken glass, sand pooling at his feet – pages too early, no.

It was whom he was holding in his arms.

Though drawn in ink and stylize you recognize yourself anywhere.

Your heart stopped, the familiar cold runs up your spine as you tried to reconcile what you’re seeing.

It’s you: it’s you in his arms, fainted like some fucking princess from a fairytale and he’s some weird prince off to take you to his kingdom. Your fingers trembled and you blinked again and again, hoping it would change but it did not.

Not when the light flickered out and you’re plunged into darkness. Not when you felt sand – real, honest to God sand caressing your skin and the only light in the dark were galaxies that spiraled on a face too white to be human.

“Thank you.”

Sandstorm roared around you, swallowing your screams as someone – something - wrapped its arms about you and lifts –

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

The world spins again and the lights flickered back to an empty bed, except for an open comic book and a pool of golden sand on its sheets.