#it's just every time I think I might be feeling better I think of how excited I was

[cutetanuki-chan]

sometimes I see people being confused where alectostasia ship came from so here's a little bit of run down

I'm not really good with words so it might be clunky

what we know from the text

Anastasia tries to achieve 'perfect lyctorhood', something goes wrong during her ascension, John kills Samael, Anastasia fails her attempt

Anastasia moves to the ninth, continues working on the house or only founding it at that time

John asks Anastasia to help build the tomb 'I built that tomb with Anastasia, designed every inch of it.'

somewhere between working on it and Alecto's entombment, Alecto and Anastasia make a vow where Alecto basically swears as a cavalier to her 'Alecto said, I remember my vows. As I swore to Anastasia I swear to you. I am in your service until you bid me the favour, and whatsoever you appoint I shall perform, and consider the vow rendered. This is what I promised, until such a time as you deal with me as you see fit.'

as John leading Alecto to the tomb, she asks to see Anastasia 'She had said, There are almost no beautiful things left. Where is Anastasia? Let me talk to Anastasia.'

presumable Anastasia is the one to inflict to the ninth house importance of keeping her bloodline and worshiping of the tomb through all of those years

Anastasia's bones are in the tomb 'She looked back beyond, and she saw Anastasia, tucked where nobody would find her: Anastasia, all bones. Not really Anastasia. But Anastasia’s body without the meat on it, snuggled right into the curve of the rock, ready to close the door whenever it was opened. She remembered Anastasia.'

Alecto immediately getting chill after tasting Harrow's blood 'The child was silent; but her blood was on Alecto’s lips, and through that blood Alecto was made to understand what it was, and was astonished exceedingly. Alecto put away wrath and said: Thou art the blood of the tomb-keeper.'

Alecto saying sorry for Samael

the implications

the vow on itself is very interesting, at first we all know how usually normal cavalier and necromancer relationships are. then for Alecto to comply to that, indicates she should be pretty trusting of Anastasia, and their relationships at least somehow better than with other lyctors who were terrified of her

then there's also the tombkeeper blood thing, what serves as a check note for Alecto after waking up, and means the initial purpose of the ninth house was actually waiting for rock to roll away

and one part of the vow seems to imply 'if anyone beside a tombkeeper wake you, slay them as they came to hurt you', as could hinted on a protection from other lyctors who wanted to kill Alecto? (Then Alecto remembered the vow, and turned back upon the altar to face the second child and raised the sword with wrath in her heart, for they meant to bring destruction upon her.)

then the matter of Anastasia's bones laying in the tomb next to the rock. not sure if it's just her skeleton or she made herself a some construct mechanism from her bones. and not clear if she got entombed on her own volition or John closed them both there, but being entombed together five feet apart cause we are not gay

there's also some oddness in Alecto immediately after waking saying she's sorry for Samael, but I won't go into that here, anyway Anastasia was trying to find a better way to lyctorhood and I think in her more close relationships with Alecto she figured out something that John wasn't telling them, before or after her ascension

and some theories

I think I first heard this theory from @/mayasaura, that ninth house tradition of telling secrets while submerged in the salt water could've corelate with Anastasia trying to have a talk like that with Alecto since she feels the most at ease in the salt water, so means pool time for alectostasia too

another one that I really like but not sure how much legs it actually would have in canon, one of the reasons Nona was so enamored with her body cause Harrow is a spitting image of Anastasia, first saw @/corvophobia talking about it

coming back to Harrow, could there be anything more to her taking immediate affection to the Body a la some fuckery with Anastasia's spirt/tombkeeper's blood

more people explained it better, I try to reblog most of the theories in my side blog, you can check it out there but some of it explicit just in case

anyway in conclusion, as I keep procrastinating with my work, I don't think they were making out 24/7 in Canaan house in canon but something for sure happened there between them

[silentstaresfanficandfanart]

you know this post seems a lil sad to me, cause when I was stuck in a corn maze I only managed to get out because there was an enthusiastic effort amongst everyone in the corn maze to help one another get through it, pointing the way and offering hints and asking questions When I was in the dmv so miserably early the doors hadn't even opened yet people were bringing over big buckets for others to sit on, and when inside there were so many random acts of kindness between the individuals there and silly little interactions that by the time I finally got my driving test done there was an air of kinship in the air and I only got out so quickly because another person realized she'd gotten something wrong paperwork wise and gave me her place in line

And when I hurt my wrist as a kid everyone kindly held open doors for me at every turn When my mom and I got stranded in the middle of no where thanks to a car issue like 5 different people stopped by our car and asked if we were okay, offered to help, (we were waiting for the repair guys or something like that) and warned us "its a bad area so be careful" and yet not once did anything bad happen at all, every person we saw was kind and worried for our wellbeing...(which while that does make me wonder what on earth they were trying to warn us about it did give me the impression at the time that perhaps they just all had some sort of beef with other, but i was a little kid so I wouldnt really know, it seemed to me like it was in fact a much nicer than average area)

When tragedy strikes don't people rush out to help?

When there's a hurricaine, a fire, a tornado, an earthquake, don't neighbors rush to help and protect one another? don't we try to save each other? don't we express heartache and rage when the first response ISINT to help? Why is it that our first response is rage? grief? heartbreak? when the first response to a bad situation is to take advantage of it or to abandon those suffering, or worse yet, to yank them back down?

Because we are social animals Crabs dont likely understand why they cant get out or even that theyre forcing the other crabs to stay in the bucket when they yank and pull, they just think its a way to pull themselves up, they dont have enough going on to grasp how physics works or to be cruel and want others to suffer with them.

Selfishness does exist, but it's not the rule

it's the exception, and we shout and point when it happens.

Of course we notice, because kindness is the rule

do we know the names of every single individual to ever save another human life? let alone to save thousands? Have we memorized the names of heroes who eradicated disease or created safety guidelines or fought for rights and for goodness in this world? Is it not the names of those we revile that we focus on most

telling our children of their crimes?

Why don't we focus more on every hero? Because theres just too many of them, because being a good decent human being is the norm.

Maybe not perfect, maybe even a pretty messed up human being but with a good heart, goodness knows I know a lot of people who while you might not say "thats a great person" you'd also never call them cruel or evil, just that they could use some help or deserve better lives.

I truly believe humans for the most part are good, and I say this without denying the evil exists. I am vividly, horrifically aware of the darkness in this world, but I refuse to let that define our race because to do so would be to excuse those who chose to do the wrong thing.

I believe humans are above all else, defined by the fact we can chose right or wrong. I dont want those who do evil to be the ones who represent us, in my mind or in anyone elses mind

They are the exception to a kinder rule.

this is just a me ramble though , my opinion thats not more valuable than anyone elses, just one I felt like sharing, because maybe it will bring someone some relief...

I used to feel guilty as a child for being human, for being something as horrible as that, and I know maybe some others did or do too

But remember please like mewtwo once said, its not the circumstances of your birth which defines you, but what you do with the gift of life.

we are not evil we are capable of it.

we are not good

we are capable of it.

and we will do both in our lives.

but I have been pleasantly surprised now that I'm older and know more about the world to see that in fact the world isint just like in history books overflowing with grief and pain, and convinced that since everyone said children were naive and unaware, that it must be worse than I could ever imagine

but in fact the world is full of the mundane, and every day normal people go about their lives and chose to be decent to one another and often do much more kindness than we will ever know.

I'm glad we arent crabs in a bucket

i love you all

people are like "if you put crabs in a bucket they can't escape because they keep pulling each other back in, this is called crab bucket mentality and describes why people don't help each other" and never acknowledge that crabs do not naturally occur in buckets, a human with more power had to put them there

[legomaster333]

from classmate to boyfriend, jungwon has always been attentive towards you ୨୧ yang jungwon x fem, wc 0.4k

⠀⠀ ͏⠀⠀ ͏ ⠀ ͏⠀⠀ ͏⠀⠀ ͏⠀ ͏· · ୨୧ · ·

classmate!jungwon who you always find quietly saving you a seat, even if he acts like it’s just a coincidence. he smirks slightly when you thank him, but the pink dusting his ears gives him away.

classmate!jungwon who never stammers but still gets a little flustered when you catch him staring. he always remembers the little things—like how you take your coffee or which pens you prefer for notes.

classmate!jungwon who notices when you're tired and casually pushes a coffee toward you, acting nonchalant but tapping his fingers against his cup as he waits for your reaction. "thought you might need this."

classmate!jungwon who always offers to walk you back to your dorm, his voice steady but warm.

"it’s getting dark," he says, eyes holding yours this time. "i’d feel better if you weren’t alone."

bf!jungwon who always has a hair tie on his wrist, smoothly handing it over when you need one. he even stayed up all night watching tutorials and practicing how to tie hair just so he could do it for you if you ever needed help.

one evening, as you're cooking, he gently gathers your hair and ties it back without a word, his fingers careful and precise. "don’t want it getting in your food," he murmurs, a small, proud smile on his lips.

bf!jungwon who gives you a small bottle of pepper spray one day, his ears turning pink as he says, "just in case. i’d worry too much if you didn’t have it."

bf!jungwon who insists you use his name whenever you order food for pickup because he thinks it’s safer.

"but why yours?"

"because it's safer to use a guy’s name," he shrugs, but the way he fiddles with his sleeve betrays how much he’s thought about it.

bf!jungwon who instinctively pulls you closer in a crowd, his hand easily finding yours like it belongs there, his cheeks slightly pink but his grip firm.

bf!jungwon who melts when you rest your head on his shoulder, tilting his head slightly so he can rest against you too, pretending it’s no big deal but secretly loving every second.

bf!jungwon who gives you his hoodie even when he’s freezing, rolling his eyes playfully but still nudging it toward you. "i’ll be fine, just take it."

bf!jungwon who never lets you doubt how much he cares about you. who makes sure you’re safe, warm, and loved every single day.

"i don’t care what happens, i just need you to be okay."

he has and always will put you first.

© legomaster333, all rights reserved.

letters from author here comes the poll winner! ill post the jake draft i have like tmrw or the day after (or whenever i finish my actual english essay..)

[bluebirdsfeathers]

Her Intern

──────･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

Relationship: Ceo!Wanda X Butch!Loser!Reader

Summary: You get a look into what it’s like to be on the receiving end of Wanda’s temper, but she could never be mad at you.

Words: 1.3K

Warnings: age gap relationship (R is early 20s, W is like 40), mention of stocks, Yelling if that stresses you out.

A/N: Wanted this to be longer but I’m starting class again on Monday and I’ve had way more work to do than I thought. Hope you enjoy this. I’ve tagged everyone who asked, if you want to be tagged in the next chapter, let me know.

Inspiration

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

──────･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

──────･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

The silence in the room made every minuet feel like an eternity. No one dared to speak. You could feel your pulse rise as the clock hand inched closer to the number nine. This morning you had gotten ready on auto piolet, showered and once again put on your wrinkled shirt. You hadn’t bothered investing in any new clothing since you began working with Pietro. The lack of dress code made you feel like it wasn’t necessary, so this was still your most professional shirt. It was the same one you’d worn your first day here, now you worried this would be your last.

Sleep hadn’t come fast last night. You’d stayed up for hours running possible situations and outcomes, planning what you’d say for each one in excruciating detail. But by the time morning came all those preparations were gone from your mind. The only thing you could focus on was the memory of Wanda catching you in her office.

She looked so angry.

You blinked away the sting in your eyes and nose, not wanting to cry, not now at least. That could Wait till after the meeting, when you could lock yourself in the bathroom away from prying eyes.

The clock reached nine and the doors to the conference room flung open, Wanda entered leaving the door to slam shut behind her. Everyone in the room sat up straight and turned their attention to the red head, everyone but you. You couldn’t bring yourself to look, instead keeping your head down hoping the ground would swallow you whole.

“Good morning,” Wanda began as she retrieved some papers from her briefcase, “I know I’m taking you away from your work, but I wouldn’t have called this meeting if there wasn’t something important that needs to be discussed.” Her tone was polite, but anger was bubbling underneath. As she finished speaking her eyes scanned the room, eventually landing on you. Wanda faced twitched with annoyance at fact you weren’t looking at her. She cleared her thought before continuing. “Once I have everyone’s attention, I’ll tell you why you’re all here, or better why one of you isn’t.”

You took the hint and slowly raised your head, not expecting to find Wanda staring directly at you, stern eyes softening for a moment before hardening back over. Her words finally reached your brain, and you glanced quickly around table, the other interns seemingly doing the same.

Theo.

Theo wasn’t there. He hadn’t come in with Wanda, which was strange considering how he’d normally be following her around like a lost dog.

“I expect you to already know this, but Westview Paper is the most trusted news sources in the country,” Wanda paced at the front of the room, her voice and posture portraying nothing but power. “We take pride in being able to provide the American public with honest unbiased reporting. So what do you think might happen if an employee threatened that reputation?” She was now stood directly behind you; the room fell so silent you could hear your heart as it raced.

“They would be fired.” The silence was broken by an intern sat across from you. Despite his suit probably being worth more than you all make a month, fit him like a kid playing dress up in his days wardrobe, and he looked like he’d just been caught. Wanda let his words hang in the air for an uncomfortably long time.

“Yes, thank you Jake. They would be fired.” As Wanda moved back to the front of the room her fingers ghosted the nape of your neck, something so innocuous it could have easily been an accident. “Theo had gone behind my back, fed information about stories we were publishing to outsiders, and all to boost his stock portfolio.” Her voice dripped with distain. “He is no longer working here, in fact, he will no longer be working for any publisher this side of the Atlantic Ocean.” She gave her words time to breath, making sure we all understood the gravity of the situation. Your mind went back to yesterday, standing in her office when she came out angrily yelling down the phone, that’s what she was talking about.

“Now I called this meeting as a warning to all of you. You aren’t children anymore, this is the real world, your actions have consequences that go far beyond timeouts, or early bedtimes. So if any of you even think about trying anything that will tarnish the reputation of this organization, I want you to really consider what it means to throw your life away! A life that, I might add, for most in here was handed to them. Dismissed.” With every sentence her voice grew louder, the anger finally bubbling over as she slammed her fits onto the table.

There was a mad scramble for the door as everyone collected their things and piled out the room.

“Y/n, I want to have a word with you.” Wanda called out with a lingering trace of rage. The other interns turned to look at you as you awkwardly shuffled back from the door. Your anxiety was already high and now you truly felt like you were going to combust. It took a moment for the room to clear but once it had, and the door closed you jumped into speech.

“Ms Maximoff, I’m so sorry, Pietro said it was okay, not that it’s his fault, I should have never invaded your privacy like that.” The word vomit just kept coming. “I was just meant to drop off the magazine and leave, I shouldn’t have stayed as long as I did. I’m so sorry, I understand if you want to fire me.” With those last words your lip wobbled, and you could do nothing to stop the tears.

Wanda, who up until now had been watching you ramble with slight bewilderment, moved to comfort you. “Y/n. I’m not going to fire you, don’t be silly,” she shushed, placing a hand on your shoulder and motioning for you to sit down, “quite the opposite actually.” You sat down trying your hardest to steady your breathing. “What do you mean?” You asked, wiping your nose with your sleeve before Wanda instinctively handed you a tissue from the box on the table.

“First, I wanted to ask if you were okay.” She leaned in placing a gentle hand on your knee. “Yesterday, in my office, you left so quickly. I was worried about you.”

“You were worried about me?”

“Yes, y/n! I was because…” Wanda stopped herself and leaned back in her chair. “Because you are my employee, and I think you have a promising future here at Westview.” You go to speak but Wanda continues, “Which is why secondly, I wanted to ask if you would be interested in taking over as my intern. I can give you some time to think about…”

“Yes!” You blurted out a little louder than expected, your cheeks flushed as you saw Wanda’s shocked expression. “I mean yes Ms… I would… I’m sorry I didn’t mean to. It’s just… are you sure you want me?” Before you could start to spiral again, you were brought back to reality by the sound of Wanda giggling.

“I’ve wanted you from the start.” She stood up and began walking to the conference room’s door. “For the position of course.” She added before leaving.

As you sat alone in the room you couldn’t help it as a smile crept across your face. You were going to be her intern! Then the reality of the situation hit you. You were going to be her intern.

──────･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

Tag list: @wandaslittlehorns @starfire1008 @mirage018 @viosblog112 @nebthetautora @ciaoooooo111 @cowboy-hunter

[ilonii]

Choso who goes absolutely feral the first time you let him hit it raw.

Not a fan of birth control and advocate for not having kids unless your married, you couldn’t really afford to risk not using some sort of protection, in this case. Condoms.

However, you recently decided it was time to invest in Nexplanon. So, after the surgery, and three grueling months of non-stop spotting, you finally decided it was time to reward Choso for being such a kind and understanding boyfriend.

“F-fuck Cho, slow down” He had been going at an impossible pace for the past 10 minutes, and wouldn’t let up.

His constant brushing of the spongy spot deep within your walls was beginning to drive your crazy. It was mind numbing pleasure that wouldn’t relent. Any longer and you’d be cumming for the third time tonight.

“I can’t. Too good” And boy was he telling the truth. Choso had never felt anything like this before. So tight, so warm, so wet. It was everything he managed and more. All he could think about was burying himself as deep as possible. Chasing a high like he’d never seen before.

“So wet, so warm”

“Choso please I don’t wanna cum yet”

“Go ahead, it won’t make me stop” His words clearly had an effect on you. Every time he spoke, he could feel you tighten around him. You were so worried about you cumming again, you failed to realize just how much this was affecting him too. At this rate Choso might just finish before you.

“Need to feel you deeper”

He now had you in the meanest mating press. Your knees were nearly digging into your chest, his forehead touching yours, and his cock inching further into your sopping cunt. He was impossibly deep you could almost feel it in your chest.

“Cho oh my god, I can’t I can’t”

“You can and you will” “Don’t give up on me now, be a good girl and take it how I taught you”

“Please, please”

“Please what”

“Please I wanna cum”

“Then do it” The feeling that had been slowly building for the last 20 minutes was finally tipping over the edge. White hot pleasure coursing through your veins. An irreparable feeling of ecstasy that had you throwing your head back and stars clouding your vision.

“C-cho”

“I’m hear baby, you’re doing so good. Gonna let me fill you up now? Gonna milk my cock real good?” His thrust got faster if that was even possible. He was not plowing you into the mattress, hips stuttering with his orgasm swiftly approaching. It was only a matter of time before his milky white cum was decorating your walls.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck”

“Chooo, so full”

He pulled out, his cum leaking from your gushing hole bit by bit. But he couldn’t just it go to waste. He scooped the escaping liquid with his fingers, and slowly shoved it back in, restuffing your hole with all the creamy goodness it let escape.

“Cmon baby, you’re supposed to keep everything I give you in this greedy hole. You know better than let anything slip”

“I’m sorry”

“It’s alright, looks like I’m just gonna have to give you some more”

You could feel him begin to stiffen against your thigh.

Boy were you in for a hell of a night.

border by @carnage-cathedral

[naamahdarling]

Set reminders on your phone to refill your scrips as soon as you can do so. This will get you a few extra days of meds a month. Set those aside to cover your ass during delays.

Your pharmacist may be able to help you move things around so all/most of your monthly things can be done at once.

Keep a list of your meds on your phone. If you're worried that this particular provider is over sensitive and it might make you look overprepared, you can always drop in a line about how your your friend or relative insisted you do it, haha, but it really has made things easier.

Keep a list of every medication you have been given, when you started it, when you stopped taking it, and why you took it and why you stopped. This is especially useful if you are trying out different medications, like for depression or ADHD or whatever, and you wind up trying two or three or five different things in a relatively short period of time. You think you'll be able to remember the first one or two and don't need to write it down, but trust me, it is very possible he will need that information and not be able to remember it.

Jot down any phone call you received or place, and the name of who you spoke to, and what time the call occurred. Make a note of what was said.

Yes, bring people to appointments.

Have people there when you are on the phone if possible.

You can introduce them as your advocate, if you think that might be advantageous. This works better on the phone, where they should introduce themselves. In person, they should be dressed nicely, even if you look like crap. They don't have to talk for you, just be there. This made a huge difference when resolving my boyfriend's major issues at a psych clinic.

If you bring someone to an appointment and want them to come back with you, go up to the front desk and ask for a release that will allow them to do so. Some places aren't super strict about it but you still want them on the record for phone calls and such. Other places, such as GAC and reproductive health clinics, can be a lot stricter (for good reasons) and you will absolutely need the release.

Always ask how long a medication will take to work, and how long you should wait before contacting them if it doesn't seem to be working. This is an extremely helpful thing to know but they often don't remember to tell you.

When trying to get a bureaucratic problem fixed, always act as though you are just so glad to be speaking to THE person who can help you. Act as though they are the solution, make them feel appreciated. If all they can do is refer you to someone else, brilliant, they still did you a tremendous favor! I know it's really hard to be polite sometimes, but if you have a beef with a clinic or insurance company, but not the person you were speaking to, it doesn't pay to be actively rude. Even if you do have beef with the person you're speaking to, it still doesn't pay to be rude.

When dealing with red tape, always ask what the next step is, and whether you need to do it or whether they will do it for you. Know how long it should take something to be done, and check back in when that time arrives. Even if you have a really great relationship with a clinic, this is such a helpful thing to do for both of you.

Record all phone calls. Talker ACR and Talker ACR Helper, used together, will let you. Download them from app site, stores don't have them. Obviously, don't do this if it's illegal where you are. This is incredibly handy for reference, if you need to go back and check who you spoke to, ask a friend for an opinion, or see if they really said that absolutely batshit thing you think you heard them say.

If you are treated poorly and feel that you can do so safely without compromising your identity in a way that will lead to further poor care, leave bad reviews on major review sites, and encourage other patients to do so as well, if you know anyone in the same position. Google reviews are actually useful to people, they are one of the first places people check, but there are physician review sites as well. Leave reviews there. If you have multiple other patients leaving reviews, over time you can tank a clinic's rating. (Obviously do not have your entire friends group leave negative reviews over the same incident. That will lead to what you say being dismissed, and on some sites removed altogether.) If it prevents even one person from wasting their time or getting hurt, it's worth speaking out, especially if the issue is bigotry. I have avoided clinics and providers where homophobia/transphobia/fatphobia was mentioned, and considered that a bullet dodged.

With reviews, be clear right up front in the first line whether it was clinic staff or the provider that was the issue. Providers often work at more than one facility, so if you find out that this is the case it's perfectly acceptable to leave a bad review for them at that facility as well. I keep track of the couple of people who openly verbally abused me or who almost caused me harm, and make sure that bad reviews follow them wherever they go. Be aware you may be burning bridges, use discretion and possibly an account that is not attached to your real name. If there were identifying features to the encounter and you don't want them to know it was you, do not include those, or disguise those in a credible way. You can also wait a while. If they leave a response with the number of a clinic manager, consider calling them back. It isn't always helpful, but it can be super helpful if the clinic manager was unaware of what's going on.

Filing complaints with state licensing boards typically isn't difficult. Consider doing so if something truly egregious happened. Also, you can typically check medical licensing boards to see if there have been complaints filed or measures taken against a particular provider. Different kinds of provider may have different licensing boards, make sure you are looking at the right one for the type of provider you are seeing. If the professional does not appear on the licensing board website you may need to check a different organization, or even in a different state. The licensing boards are typically made up of medical professionals, so they are less likely to rule in favor of the patient than if they were patient-led as they should be, but a pattern of behavior, once established, can lead to future action and help others.

Do not threaten legal action. If that's the route you want to take, move in the shadows. If there's going to be a lawsuit, they should hear about that first from your lawyer. Don't give them warning, don't telegraph your actions. This is what a lawyer told me, so I'm assuming it's good advice.

That said, super politely asking for the name of the clinic manager or for regional/corporate headquarters can get things moving. It's a little aggressive, so take care with how you go about it, but a couple of times when I was in dire straits it was the only thing that got things done.

Good luck!

I've been disabled for almost 29 years. Here's what I've learned.

Tablets sink and capsules float. Separate out your tablets and capsules when you go to take them. Tip your head down when taking capsules and up when taking tablets. Liquigels don't matter, they kinda stay in the middle of whatever liquid is in your mouth.

If your pill tastes bad, coat it with a bit of butter or margarine. I learned this from my mom, who learned it from a pharmacist.

Being in pain every day isn't normal. Average people experience pain during exceptional moments, like when they stub their toe or jam their finger in a door, not when they sit cross-legged.

Make a medical binder. Make multiple medical binders. I have a small one that comes with me to appointments and two big ones that stay at home, one with old stuff and one with more recent stuff.

Find your icons. Some of mine include Daya Betty (drag queen with diabetes), Stef Sanjati (influencer with Waardenburg syndrome and ADHD), and Hank Green (guy with ulcerative colitis who... does a bunch of stuff). They don't have to be disabled in the same way as you. They don't even have to be real people. Put their pictures up somewhere if you want; I've been meaning to decorate my medical binders with pictures of my icons.

Take a bin, box, bag, basket, whatever and fill it with items to cope with. This can be stuff for mentally coping like colouring books or play clay or stuff for physically coping like pain medicine or physio tape.

Decorate your shit! My cane for at home has a plushie backpack clip hanging from the end of the handle and my cane for going places is covered in stickers. All of my medical binders have fun scrapbooking paper on the outside. Sometimes, I put stickers and washi tape on my inhalers and pill bottles. I used my Cricut to decorate my coping bin with quotes from my icons, like "I've seen enough of Ba Sing Se" and "I need you to be angrier with that bell".

If a flare-up is making you unable to eat or keep food down, consider going to the ER. A pharmacist once told me that since my eye flares can make me so nauseous that I cannot eat, then I need to go to the hospital when that happens.

Cola works wonders for nausea. I have mini cans of Diet Pepsi in my coping bin.

Shortbread is one of the only things I can eat when nauseous. Giant Tiger sells individually-wrapped servings of shortbread around Christmas or the British import store sells them year-round. I also keep these in my coping bin.

Unless it violates a pain contract or something, don't be afraid to go behind your doctor's back to get something they are refusing you. I got my cardiologist referral by getting in with a different NP at my primary care clinic than who I usually saw. I switched from Seroquel to Abilify by visiting a walk-in.

If you have a condition affecting your abdomen in some way (GI issues, reproductive problems, y'know) then invest in track pants that are too big. I bought some for my laparoscopy over a year ago and they've been handy for pelvic pain days, too. I've also heard loose pants are good for after colonoscopies.

Do whatever works, even if it's weird. I've sat on the floor of the Eaton Centre to take my pills. I've shoved heating pads down my front waistband to reach my uterus.

High-top Converse are good for weak ankles. I almost exclusively wear them.

You can reuse your pill bottles for stuff. I use my jumbo ones to store makeup sponges and my long skinny ones to hold a travel-size amount of Q-Tips.

Just because your diagnostics come back with nothing, it doesn't mean nothing is wrong. Maybe you were checking the wrong thing, or the diagnostic tool wasn't sensitive enough. I have bradycardia episodes even though multiple cardiac tests caught nothing. I probably have endometriosis even though my gynecologist didn't see anything.

You can bring your comfort item to appointments, and it's generally a green flag when someone talks to you about it. I brought a Squishmallow turkey (named Ulana) to my laparoscopy and they had her wearing my mask when I woke up. I brought a Build-A-Bear cat (named Blinx) to another procedure and a nurse told me that everyone in the hall on the way to the procedure room saw him and were talking about how cute he was. Both of those ended up being positive experiences and every person who talked to me about my plushies was nice to me. If you don't feel comfortable having it visible to your provider during the appointment, you can hide it in your bag and just know it's there, or if you're in a video appointment, you can hold it below frame in your lap.

Get a small bucket, fill it with stuff, and stick it in your bed (if you have room for it). I filled a bucket with Ensure, juice boxes, oatmeal bars, lotion, my rescue inhaler, etc. in October 2023 in anticipation of my laparoscopy and I still have it in my bed as of January 2025.

If your disability impacts your impulse control (e.g. ADHD, bipolar disorder), you should consider setting limits around your spending -- no more than X dollars at a time, nothing online unless it's absolutely necessary, and so on. Or, run these purchases by someone you trust before committing to them; I use my BFF groupchat to help talk sense into myself when I buy stuff.

Feel free to add on what you've learned about disability!

[onsomenewsht]

I've got peace and I've got love

About a surprise for your birthday even if you hate your birthday

》 Alexia Putellas x Reader

》 words count: +1k

》 for anyone who needs to feel celebrated

Birthdays are a complicated matter.

You don’t hate them, no one really does.

People should be loved loudly, their mere presence on Earth should be reason enough to celebrate them.

You care about your family and your friends, baking cakes and inflating balloons and dressing up for a themed party are not a problem - you’re the first one to arrive and the last to leave.

Celebrating your birthday though? Hell, no.

For most, it doesn’t make sense.

A day in a whole year when anyone is entitled to be under the biggest spotlight, getting gifts and all the wanted attention. Yet, you’d rather hide in the remotest corner of the planet than hear someone sing “happy birthday” to you.

Despite the insistence and the repeated attempts over the years, your mother has finally accepted that you don’t want to make a big deal out of it. Your best friend has accepted that you’ll avoid a surprise party like the plague. Everyone who knows you, knows it.

Alexia included.

At least she knows now, after last year.

The two of you got together just shy of three months before your birthday. Bless her good heart, she thought a surprise ambush might be appreciated.

She’s not going to make the same mistake twice in a row, but she wants to do something.

“You told me she hates birthdays”, Alba points out, a bit confused, sipping her coffee as if her sister isn’t in the middle of an inconclusive rant.

“She hates her own, not birthdays in general”

“I still think you should just buy her a nice present, wish her a happy birthday and move on like she asked you to do”

“It seems so, I don’t know, incomplete?”, the blonde tries to explain, “How do I make sure I show how much I appreciate her if I can’t celebrate her?”

“You better celebrate her every day, not just on the birthday–”

“I do it, idiot!”

Alexia is quick in her jab, but thankfully the younger girl is used to her attitude by now.

Cup saved from any spill, Alba barely has enough patience to give another, simple pearl of wisdom, “So do it like any other day, but, you know, on her birthday”

It’s good advice, even if she’d never admit it.

Alexia spends most of her day off plotting, her free time during the week before your birthday completely taken over by careful planning and prep.

You can tell immediately that something is off, but you let it slide because she’s cute when she’s on a mission, and you don’t really want to spoil her fun.

At the stroke of midnight, like a mischievous fairy godmother, your best friend calls you to sing a personalized rendition of “Die, Die My Darling” like every year since you’re sixteen and think you’re oh-so-funny.

Your mother sends a present from the entire family, along with a picture of a cake you’re not going to eat but you’re glad they’ll enjoy in your name. Alexia’s mother and sister send flowers, and you have to reassure your girlfriend that it’s a genuinely appreciated sentiment.

Said girlfriend kisses you for every year spent on this Earth and then moves on, as if nothing happened. As if nothing is going to happen.

It’s suspicious, really suspicious.

The day passes by without any major incident.

At work just a few colleagues know it’s your birthday, they politely hand you a card with bad jokes written all over it. You mindlessly send the same three reactions at every text message, nonetheless appreciating everyone who remembered and took the time to wish you a happy birthday. A kind waitress adds a slice of dessert as you pick up take-out at your favourite Mexican place, probably prompted by Alexia when she ordered over the phone and sent you to the restaurant.

Guard down, you open the door to your girlfriend’s apartment, still not connecting the dots.

Thank the goddesses and gods above for that nice waitress, because what you find inside is definitely a first and the food wouldn’t have survived the surprise if not for the well-secured package.

Soft music - that, to your shame, you only realise too late is your favorite record - resonates through the room, which is filled with dozens of floating balloons reaching the ceiling.

You take a few tentative steps inside, noticing pictures carefully tied to each string with numbers scribbled on the corners.

Snaps of the past year, memories so simple in their significance you sometimes fail to give a good measure of. Dinners out with friends, an unflattering portrait of an early morning during the summer, the first time holding your niece. You linger over a photo of you and Alexia talking on Mapi’s couch, neither of you looking at the camera, as it’s clear you had eyes only for each other.

“I’ve never seen this one”, you whisper, emotion thick in your voice.

Your girlfriend is leaning on the further wall of the entrance, a confident stance failing to hide a note of nervousness. The way her hands are buried in the pocket of old sweatpants and her eyes are studying every single macro-expression shifting on your face are a clear tell for you.

"Ingrid sent it to me some times ago”

“It’s beautiful”

“It is”, she agrees easily, still not daring to come closer.

Alexia’s gaze drops as soon as you notice there’s a handwritten message on the back of every photo, her cheeks flushing slightly.

You take the time to read each one attentively, smiling at her thoughtfulness and the care she put into all the moments chosen. People and occasions that hold meaning for you, no matter how big or small. You feel love in every single one.

“You put a lot of thought into this”

“I had to sacrifice a couple of good ones”, she mumbles, almost upset with herself.

The commitment to matching the number of pictures to your age it’s impressive, you have to admit.

A burst of laughter fills the entire apartment, Alexia finally meeting your gaze and taking in how moved you’re by her surprise.

The fear of overstepping had been like an annoying voice, whispering in her ear as she scribbled on the back of the photos or tried to wrap gifts without running out of patience or tape.

“Do you like it?”, her doubt creeping in her voice.

“I don’t hate it”, you joke, still eager to ease her worries, “No one has ever put this much thought or effort into– I don’t know, celebrating my birthday, I guess”

“You deserve to be celebrated”

You take the few steps to fill the gap between you two, food forgotten somewhere behind, and throw yourself into her already open arms.

“Thank you”

“I love you”

The kiss you share is a clear enough answer. Sometimes, it’s not even necessary to spell it out - action speaks louder than words, they say. She holds you for as long as you need, music still playing softly in the background.

“Is this a good moment to mention that you have to open as many presents as you have in years?”

“Alexia!”

[rinffection]

♡ Sickeningly Sweet!

How blue lock boys show you how sweet they are to their girlfriend!

featuring! Isagi Yoichi, Meguru Bachira, Itoshi Rin, Seishiro Nagi & Chigiri Hyoma.

a/n : hellloooooo :3 back with some blue lock head canons, ahhhhh!!!!!! Anyways I’m writing this as I watch the shining so plz spare with me.

notes : mxf, afab!reader, sfw headcanons, NOT PROOFREAD

ISAGI YOICHI!

definitely compliments you on dates! — whether your outfit or face :3

when he sees something that reminds him of you, he buys it for you immediately!

after scoring a goal, his eyes immediately go to find yours. When he does, he gives you a big puppy smile.

adding to above, he would text you instantly after the game, asking if he did well today or if you saw that goal he shot!

late night calls after a whole day of soccer training! He actually sleeps better after hearing your voice.

he always holds your hands when you guys walk together.

sends you a bunch of lovey dovey TikTok’s, when he has time, of course.

whenever he gets jealous, it’s always in a cute way. he wouldn’t start a fight but instead he would hug you a little tighter after the guy is gone.

loves to make those cheesy couple TikTok’s with you! He actually enjoys it a lot.

MEGURU BACHIRA!

THE MOST PLAYFUL PUPPY EVER!! He will literally cuddle with you every chance he gets.

okay but his love language is just physical touch. He loves hugging or giving you kisses all over your face!

he likes drawing little doodles of you and him on his notebooks whenever he’s not paying attention in class.

likes to send you voice messages during evening’s all about his day, and loves when you send back too :3

since he’s always playing soccer by himself, he likes to drag you with him so he can teach you to play as well!

adding to above, he would pat you on the head with his golden smile whenever you do something correctly.

likes to have sleepovers with you! (mostly so he can cuddle with you when he goes to sleep)

whenever your frustrated over something, he lets you rant to him like he’s your bestie.

he will lay down with his head in your lap while he yaps to you.

doesn’t mind doing your girly stuff with him. As long as you have your pretty smile on your face, he’s happy!

ITOSHI RIN!

like a lot of people say, he doesn’t like showing PDA, but when it’s just the two of you in a room, he’ll immediately become a clingy puppy.

you might think he’s nonchalant, but he actually remembers every little thing about you! Whether it’s a habit you have or your favourite snack.

he buys you things without telling. Like if you were eyeing a necklace or a snack, he would buy it for you :3 (even if you don’t say anything)

regularly checks up with you via texts!! He’ll message you good night and good morning texts, and sometimes ask ‘did you eat?’ or ‘it’s getting late, you should go to sleep’.

he likes to keep things that remind you of him in his room — whether it’s a present, card, a trinket from the date you guys recently went or even photos of you two! He acts like he doesn’t care, but he actually does….

Rin always waits for you! after class, training, for a date or after a game, he would wait for you so you can walk with him! (He wants to make sure you’re safe when you walk home and that no guys hit on you.. lol.)

rants to you about sae and the ‘annoying’ teammates he has to deal with because he trusts you! While you guys cuddle on the couch or bed, of course.

DEFINITELY lovesssss giving you forehead kisses! He thinks it’s cute how you’re shorter than him.

cares for you. And when I mean he cares for you, I mean he would give an icy glare to whoever’s making you feel sad. (and sometimes it wouldn’t be just a glare….)

gives you his jacket or hoodie when you’re cold. It’s a quiet gesture, but he doesn’t need you shivering or catching a cold, and sometimes, he lets you keep it. It smells like him anyways!

watches your favourite shows or movies with you! He might grumble about how ‘this is so boring,’ but he actually secretly enjoys spending time with you— even if he had to watch your girly stuff with you.

SEISHIRO NAGI!

pulls you into naps with him! He loves sleeping, but he also loves you.. so why not both together?

lets you play with his hair. he probably doesn’t like it when others do it, but when it’s you, go wild.

always has your hair tie on his wrist. You don’t go a day without seeing it on his arm. (or maybe he’s just too lazy to take it off)

loses video games just for you to win. And when you ask about why he seems to be lacking, he’ll reply with ‘dunno, I guess I was distracted by you’.

lazy pecks on the lips. Sometimes it’s to shut you up while he’s gaming or sleeping— but he likes seeing you blush after anyways.

his go-to dates are definitely sleepovers, just so he can cuddle with you while watching a movie or something. (also, it’s because he’s too lazy to go out, lol.)

asks you to feed him because apparently, eating is too much of a hassle.

teaches you how to play a video game he likes — just so you can play with him!

makes you wear his hoodies, and sometimes, he even lets you ‘borrow’ it! He actually likes seeing you in his clothes, especially when it’s a bit too big for you.

shows you off. Like when someone asks him about his packed bento that you made for him, he’ll nonchalantly say ‘my girlfriend made it for me.’

CHIGIRI HYOMA!

LETS YOU BRAID HIS HAIR!!! Since he has long hair, he lets you style it however you want. (even if it ends up looking like a funny mess)

he’ll tie or braid your hair for you. Since he has long hair, he basically knows how to tie and braid hair like the back of his hand.

hear me out…. he discusses hair products with you. Sometimes even lets you share his favourite hair mask!!

buys you your favourite flowers every time you guys have a date together. It’s a way of showing how much he cares.

matching always. When you get him something matching, like a bracelet or necklace, he insists on keeping it on every day.

he’s probably the person who takes you out on the BEST dates. Like this guy lives for aesthetics. Just imagine him taking you out to watch the sunset, canoeing down a pretty river or finding amazing small cafe’s to try out with you!

soft/hard launches you on Instagram. He posts you on his story, and always takes photos of the both of you going on dates to post onto his page!

he takes the best pictures of you, lol. You don’t even need to train him into taking good photos for your Instagram, he’s just naturally good at it. Usually after he takes the pictures, he’ll compliment you and say ‘it was all because of how pretty you are’.

writes short poems or notes for you. It’s one way of showing his love— through words!

celebrates every holiday with you. Whether it’s Christmas, Valentine’s Day, or Halloween, he goes out his way to celebrate it the best with you!

after notes! : Hai again everyone.. :3 I think you can probably tell who’s my favourite in here…. lol…. But anyways, lmk if you guys want any fics on these headcanons! :p

[transformers-spike]

Don’t know if you’ve answered this before or not but do you think there’s any bots that are into boobs. Yeah I know some might be into organic valves, but what about boobs? Do you think they’d have some sort of a fascination? Like not just the softness but the fact that our boobs have nipples- something they haven’t seen on their fellow Cybertronians. Maybe a mix of curiosity and fascination. I can def see it becoming some sort of a fetish for some. Can’t stop thinking about it.

Oh boy - I had to call in my resident tiddie enjoyer for this. It's @drunkeninlovesailor - she's got a lot more to say on boobs than I do

"What a magnificent ask OP. As a fellow boob haver and appreciator, this sounds like the perfect job for me.

Now, among cybertronians, chassis structure can vary, which is why they aren't particularly weirded out by the fact that some of us humans have more prominent chests than others, but they will find it fascinating to understand how that difference comes to be. The medics especially, like Ratchet and especially Knock Out, will want to look deeper into the anatomical structure and of course, their fascination also comes from a place of scientific curiosity.

But do explain to them what they are and why they are so. Ratchet will be incredibly fascinated by the fact us humans possess natural means to provide nourishment for our young, to further tie in how humans are a marvel in terms of reproduction. KO will certainly be more fascinated by the reason behind their softness and alluring appearance, and he perks up weirdly at the mention that they are associated with sex appeal.

I don't think there are any bots who won't like the boobies. Of course, some bots like Starscream could bitch about the fact they get in the way, but I mean, look at elements like Breakdown and Shockwave. If they can brawl. So can you. Forget anything the pretentious chicken is saying.

Anyway, do let your bot SO feel your boobies, they'll be enamored with them. If the human body is already soft, breasts are the softest thing they could hold. And the skin itself is softer, too.

They are indeed fascinated by the fact your chest seems to respond to external stimuli much like the rest of your body. Every faint touch elicit a response - even better, your chest area seems to be more sensitive than other parts of you, especially the nipple area, whose sensitivity is comparable to that of genitalia. Wait until you mention that boobies are considered private parts. They'll first shrivel up at having touched a personal part of you so lightly (unless you are KO or Shockwave, those mechs have no shame. Other bots like Dreadwing will apologize a million times for breaching your personal space), then they'll be blushing at the fact you decided to show them anyway.

They marvel at the way your skin gets goosebumps and your nipples change conformation, too. If you happen to have a generous amount of chest area, they'll love how squishy it is. Please, hold them while they're in mass displaced form, they have never felt such softness in their lives."

[squarebracket-trickster]

This is also why "writers" who use generative machine learning (so called "AI") baffle me because what I want is 100% control over the words on the page. I'm trying to get something out of my head and into the real world, and I'm not going to settle for an approximation. I want it to be read *exactly* like it is in my head, and no matter how advanced machine learning software gets, it will never be able to perfectly replicate what I want because it can't read my mind.

If I wanted an MLS to perfectly represent the story I had in my head I would have to give it *very* specific, detailed, precise directions. So precise, in fact, that I would just have to write out the whole story exactly how I wanted it, which... why would I be asking an MLS at that point... the work's done.

And to the "writers" that say, "well, I just use it to help me fill me the gaps when I'm stuck": every single sentence, even word, in a story contributes to its overall effect - from the mood, to the tone, to the atmosphere, the "aesthetic", the characterization and character development (including how likeable and shippable you find the character), the plot and worldbuilding (including the internal logic of the story which sets the audience's expectations for what is possible and what feels like a cheap cop-out) and, of course, the themes; and all stories have themes, whether the author intended them or not. I would like 100% control over all of these, thank you very much. I want my story's aesthetic to be as much a vibe as possible, my characters and plot consistent, every opportunity to improve upon the story seized in just the way I'd like it, and if I am going to accidentally write some problematic theme, let it be because of my own shortcomings as a human being that I can learn better from, and not because I pasted some text from chatgpt into my story without thinking about its implications.

Why do I write? Because I want to have a voice. I want to have the skills to put my experiences and ideas into words, and where my ideas aren't fully formed I don't want to turn to a machine that might contradict or recontextualize what is mine, that wouldn't make the connections I would or seize the opportunities I would seize if only I had the skill and took the time to fully form an idea for myself.

Something, something, the insidious politics of machines speaking over people: depriving us of our own voices, the ability to describe what is happening to us and in the world, to communicate effectively with each other.

Even when it's just entertainment, it's just genre fiction, it's just fan fiction, "it's not that deep": it is. It always is. Words shape our reality; they preserve the status quo, or they challenge it. They connect us, divide us, hurt us, comfort us. I would like the power to be as intentional about my words as possible. Even when it's not that deep. I will never let a machine tell me how to think; I will never let a machine speak with my voice.

I feel like we really lost something when we started looking at writing as a reader-centric product meant to appeal to the desires of a specific audience rather than a writer-centric approach of someone writes whatever particular thing particular compels them/whatever weird thing the demons in their head want to talk about, and people out there who are also compelled, and/or relate, find that writing. A lot of discussions of writing really center around what readers want rather than a writer's exploration. Sometimes as a reader I don't know what I want. I click on a fic or pick up a book I'm not sure about but that looks interesting, and I love it. Reading what I expect to get is it's own joy, but we always need to expand our horizons and not get mad at creators for not always writing what we want/expect.

[delugyu]

hi!! i was wondering if i could request a one shot based on the GGUM mv where yeonjun is a cocky and bratty k pop idol that belittles everyone and basically the reader is like his mananger who’s had enough of his behavior and decides to teach him a lesson and he’s super submissive.

btw i LOVE your writing. cold, curse city was amazing <3

jumped for joy when i saw submissive yeonjun YAYYYYYYY (also thank you!!! hehe)

(wc: 2k / warnings: mean dom!reader, sub!yeonjun, reader’s kind of a bitch but yeonjun is too so it’s okay, degradation, humiliation, oral kinda idk eating pussy thru the panties, unprotected sex, edging..?)

you’re pretty sure that the biggest source of your headaches on any given day is the man you’re watching right now—on a tuesday at eight in the morning—who’s trying to convince you that the interviewer deserved it earlier when he called her an idiot.

“yeah, no. that’s never happening again,” you say plainly, cutting off his long-winded explanation. if only he could catch on when you’re trying to leave no room for argument, but unfortunately he has the most major case of lacking respect and decorum that you’ve ever seen.

“so you think it was okay for her to say that being bratty is my whole brand?” he asks.

“well, if you keep acting the way you do, then you can’t be surprised if that’s what people focus on.” you won’t lie: his brash personality is definitely good for gaining attention. his PR team never has to work too hard, since they know yeonjun’s going to do something stupid to get him on the news anyway. you’re jealous, cause you’re over here busting your ass to make sure he doesn’t go too far and ruin his career.

“i’d be selling a fake image if i was out there kissing babies and shaking hands,” yeonjun says.

“so the better alternative is running your mouth until half the country wants you beaten up?” you don’t want him to act like someone he’s not, but you also don’t want him to be such a dick to everyone.

“stop acting like you know me or the things i want,” he says. it lights a fire inside of you, rage burning at his insinuation. “i don’t want a nice, clean image. i fucking hate it when you try to force that onto me.”

he walks away into his dressing room, probably done with you and this conversation, but you’ve had it. you’re pissed, and he needs to learn that he doesn’t sit on top of the world. you mutter out quick apologies to the staff you push past in your haste to follow yeonjun.

before you can step into the room, yeonjun slams the door in front of your face. “yeonjun, are you fucking kidding me?!” you bang your fist against the door when turning the knob doesn’t work.

“go away,” he says from behind the door. you let out something like a growl in your frustration, feeling like you might just rip all your hair out. it’s too early to already be doing this.

“why do you throw fits every time i try to tell you to have some respect? you can never just bite your tongue for a second.”

you’re met with silence. you hate when he starts tuning you out. you’ll have to pop a few tylenols after this to keep your headache from killing you.

you start up once more, “you think anyone’s gonna look at your art before they look at you as a person? what’s the point in making good music if the person behind it is such a jackass?”

again, no reply. you sigh, running your hands down your face as you try to collect yourself. this isn’t worth it. he’s never going to change.

“i’m thinking i should just quit and let you deal with whatever asshole comes in after me,” you say, just trying to stir him into giving you a response now. you usually keep yourself from going back and forth with him like this, but he’s been on your nerves way too much recently. you were bound to explode with how much he’s been testing you.

the door finally opens. you don’t waste a second when you push it wider and enter the room, shutting it behind you. he’s crossing his arms, eyebrow raised like he’s waiting for you to scold him some more.

“you actually gonna quit, or was that all talk?” he asks.

you scowl and push on his shoulders until he’s sitting on one of the chairs. his eyes widen for a second like he’s surprised you actually put your hands on him. he should be grateful you don’t do worse.

“listen, i’m not going to take your shit anymore. i’m not giving you a choice. you need to have some respect.” you look down at him with ice cold eyes. he squirms a little in his seat; you almost find it funny.

“i don’t know how you expect me to do that. this is just how i am,” he counters.

“shutting your mouth would be a good start.” you put your hand over his lips when he opens them to start talking again. “see, you’re already trying to bark. just listen.”

you keep your hand there, and you’re kind of surprised that he doesn’t even try to move you away. your other hand grips the back of his chair so that you’re leaning over him, and you finally feel like you’re more powerful than him. you feel like he might listen to you for once.

“if you don’t want to be seen as a brat, then don’t be a brat,” you say. “you can have a tough image without annoying everyone. people see you more as a toddler than as some cool guy.”

his eyes dart down, and you realize that, with you leaning over him, he has a great view of your cleavage. he’s staring at your tits. scandalized, you grab his jaw to tilt his head all the way up, so he can either stare at the ceiling or look at your face. he chooses the ceiling.

“are you trying to make me hate my job? do you want me to quit?” you ask.

his eyes find yours at that, and you’re a little surprised to not find any fight in them. he shakes his head and keeps his mouth shut.

“you can answer now,” you say, letting go of his jaw.

“don’t quit, i like you as my manager,” he answers quickly. you huff out a laugh.

“well you sure as hell don’t act like it.”

“i’m sorry,” he apologizes—and sounds completely sincere, too.

you stand up straight, assessing him silently. you let your eyes rake down his body, noticing how he doesn’t move an inch. looks like you’ve finally put him in his place. it’s such a shame that it practically takes you bullying him to get to this point.

“so you’re gonna cool the tough guy act?” you ask.

“i dunno, maybe you should test how obedient i can be,” he prompts with a growing smile. wow, and you were doing so well.

“get off that chair.” immediately he does, standing up and waiting for his next instruction. you laugh at how pathetic his switch up is. you’d love for the nation to see yeonjun now, so eager to follow your orders. how far will he go?

you decide to test it out. “kneel.”

he’s just as quick to follow through with that, too. a power rush is already surging inside you, pumping adrenaline through your body. he looks up at you from his position on his knees. there’s still some space between you, though.

“come a little closer. crawl to me.” your pleased smile stays on your face as you watch him obey, keeping eye contact as he inches toward you.

“this is so funny,” you say as you look down at him. for the first time in your life, you see him look embarrassed. his eyes dart off to the side, unable to take the torment. “eyes on me. don’t you dare try looking away again.”

his cheeks glow with a subtle red tint, you notice as you take in his face. “would you be so kind as to apologize to me again?” you ask.

“i’m sorry,” he answers promptly.

“hm. better than that.”

he looks confused, but you know he’s desperate to follow because he’s quick to oblige. “i’m sorry i was such a brat to you and everyone else.”

“you were a brat. what do you think brats like you deserve?”

you feel him shiver. “punishment,” he answers meekly.

“that’s right.” you place your foot on his crotch, not paying any mind to how hard he is already. “what a shame you were so bad. you could’ve came today.” you take your foot off him and spread your legs apart. “get me nice and wet for your cock.”

“w-what?” he stammers, looking up at you all scandalized.

“i’m not in the mood to repeat myself.” with all the eagerness he’s ever had, yeonjun grips onto your thighs and dips his head beneath your skirt. he starts licking your cunt over your panties, tongue working adamantly against you like he’s scared to do it wrong or poorly.

you sigh, relaxing into the feeling. this is better stress relief than any amount of medicine could give you. maybe you’ll be resorting to this more often.

he wraps his lips around your clothed clit and sucks, then swipes his tongue across the swollen bud. he’s deeply focused on pleasuring you, repeating any little action that makes your legs twitch. you hate to admit it, but he’s getting you wet so fast.

“guess this is the only way to shut you up, huh?” you ask, and you feel him nod in response. “should i do this more then?”

“yes,” he pulls away to say, replacing his mouth with his fingers rubbing quickly against you. “do it as much as you want.”

“is the promise of pussy the only way you’ll—fuck, just like that—respect me?” his fingers run wildly over your clit, desperation oozing off of him.

“only yours. i’ll do anything for it.” he presses into your core, grinding his hand against you. “you’re so wet. please sit on my cock.”

you hum, wanting to say no and torture him more, but you can’t deny how bad you want to feel him inside you.

“sit on the chair and undo your pants,” you instruct. you slide off your panties as he does that.

you sit on his lap and give his dick a few quick jerks before aligning it with your entrance. he makes more noise than you do as you sink onto him, which would make you snicker if you weren’t so busy adjusting to his size.

“you moan like a bitch,” you hiss out as you finally take all of him in. you stay bottomed out for a minute, letting yourself get used to the stretch, grinding your hips every now and then to hear him whine.

“please move, i need more,” he says after a minute.

“don’t tell me what to do.” you start moving anyway—not because he begged you to, but because you’re getting needier for your orgasm. “this isn’t about you, brat.”

he keeps whining as you bounce on his dick, throwing his head back and dropping his mouth open. he sounds so much better when he’s moaning like a whore instead of bitching at everyone on earth.

you gasp when you feel his fingers on your clit, playing with the bud with endless need. even when he bites his lip, little noises keep spilling out of him, and a part of you is almost afraid that someone’s going to hear him.

“i’m close,” you say as you lean back a little, letting his dick hit a new spot inside of you. his eyes shine when he sees your body start twitching.

“i want you to cum so bad, please please give it to me!” his begging throws you ever the edge, biting your lip so you don’t make any sound. breathy little noises escape you instead, which yeonjun seems to like just as much.

you swat his hand away when it becomes too much, catching your breath while you ignore yeonjun’s twitching dick inside of you. yeonjun’s losing his patience, grabbing your hips needily.

“i need to cum too,” he says, brows upturned and almost looking pitiful. you enjoy the feeling of him inside you for a couple more seconds before getting up.

“isn’t that too bad,” you say. his jaw drops, and he goes speechless yet again. “don’t look so surprised. didn’t i tell you that you won’t be cumming today?”

the betrayal on his face suddenly makes this job worth every penny.

[tactical-jellyfish]

The Mistakes That Have Been Made

Part two :)

Warnings!: Angst, angst, and more angst. Reader will be MAD sad for most of this. Poorly-practiced, unhealthy polyamory. Reader will experience a LOT of gender and body dysphoria over the course of this (though I will do my best to keep it gender-neutral throughout, bear with me), but there WILL be comfort over that.

You spent most of the night following the surgery in a light doze, after a certain man named Gary walks you to your room, only slightly entertaining your efforts to walk upright on your own two legs.

Of course, he can't stay, he's got things to do, and he's not your fucking nurse, but he still makes you unlock your phone and watches you set the timer so you take your antibiotics first thing in the morning.

He still leaves to fill up his own water bottle, and sets it by your tiny, shitty nightstand, and he still brings the thing to your lips to make you take a couple sips, even as you try not to drift off right then and there.

When you look up with tired eyes, he offers a small, sympathetic smile, and leans down to gently bump your forehead with his own.

It's... an oddly endearing gesture, considering that's a grown-ass man, but your delirious smile seems to inspire more of that gentle treatment, because when his hands are free again, he's finger-spelling to you once more.

I googled some stuff for the recovery. Should I send you the links to the articles?

You melt, just a little bit, but nod, tiredly resting your heavy head on the pillow beneath it, just really soaking in not feeling like you're dying. Feels great, you've gotta say.

"Yeah. That'd be real sweet of you, luvie. Thanks for all the help."

He beams at you. You hate to admit it, but you smile, too.

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

The day after is slow for you. Seeing as you're one organ down, it feels perfectly fit to work quietly in your own small office space, finding more information for prospective ops down the line.

It's comfortably-paced, much unlike how you'd been before your mistake. Back then, you were frantic, under a deadline you knew wasn't realistic trying to find documents that didn't ever exist.

Your job feels so much better without Price and the team on your ass. They never understand how discovery works, they think it just happens in a way that's frankly, stupid.

And, you're no liar, you'll say that getting periodic texts from your new friend really does brighten your mood.

Roach was a riot. And you forgot how it felt to be with that energy, the spark of new meat that you had felt yourself losing in the team.

He's a good lad, might have to get him a dinner, as-

Your train of thought is (rudely) interrupted by your door opening, without a knock or anything, and an irritated Johnny standing behind it.

"Mind tellin' me why ye werenae runnin' feckin' drills today? Ye said ye'd fuckin' spot me."

You're not surprised that his voice is supremely annoying to you right now. Normally, that Scottish slang is a comforting noise, a reminder of the company you hold, and how they've always had your back.

This time, you kind of want to knock him in the jaw for it.

This anger, it will pass.

Maybe.

"If you've got an issue, go to Price. It's not my job to fill you in on every little detail of my life, and I have a job other than training that I need to be up-to-date with."

The metal of Gary's water bottle makes a quiet noise on the textured plastic of your desk as you raise it to take another sip, effectively silencing Johnny for just a second as you hear him sputter to himself.

"Th' fuck are you- you're not drinking coffee."

Of course that's the thing he notices. He can't notice when you're on death's door begging for help, but he knows how you take a morning beverage.

You really wanna punch him now.

"Detox."

You answer is terse, not quite like you, and he furrows his brows.

"Ye're hidin' somethin', ain't ye? S' it 'cause of the mission? 'Cause that was a stupid call, an' you can't fix stupid."

What a way to make amends, Soap, show up at my door and insult me after a brief interrogation. Charming.

"My god, would it kill you to shut your mouth just once? Is that too big an ask, now?"

Harsh. That was harsh. You know it was, and that it was a mistake, but when you open your mouth to apologize, Johnny beats you to it.

"Fuck you."

The slam of the door makes you cringe, and look back down to your documents, the little notes you've drawn in the margins and the highlighter that's smudged the pen just a little bit.

Before you dwell too long, there's a quiet ping.

A small, stupid looping video pops up when you open the offending chat.

It's a poorly-rendered cockroach, spinning is stupidly whimsical circles and turning colors as a song you don't care to name plays in the background. The text under it is what makes you soften.

medicine checkk in!!! take the medcine if you havent :)

His spelling is amateurish at best.

You're really fucking screwed, with that one, and you know it, but still, you set the phone down, and open a new tab.

British Sign Language basics. You could do that.

Part One | Previous | Next

[left4gospels]

“UNTOUCHABLE”

Short story

✟ ✟ ✟

(Drawing by me, I hated the full version but i liked how I drew Ellis so this is what you get.)

First time writing something and posting it publicly so uh i hope you guys like it. Was just an idea I had. I dont like this it could be better.

TW: Death, violence, Keith is sort of a douche, mid story.

╔══•●•══╗

“Ellis and his best buddy Keith were driving on the road, heading to the nearest evacuation station with no idea what would happen to them. With rumors of an apocalypse, neither of them were taking it seriously. Keith always had that invincible energy that nothing could touch either of them when they were together, so why would Ellis doubt him? They were fine, everything would work out in the end.

That is, until they run out of gas. Then everything starts to get a little too serious for Ellis.”

╚══•●•══╝

The chevy sped down the empty backroad, gravel crunching under the tires and trees blurring by. Ellis kept one hand on the wheel and the other draped over the shifter, his fingers tapping to the rhythm of ‘Don't fear the reaper’. Keith sat in the passenger seat, his worn boots propped up on the dash like he owned the damn thing, tearing into a stick of jerky he randomly found in his pocket. They’d taken one of the many backroads of Georgia to avoid the crowd towards the evacuation station– a hotel Ellis hadn’t been to since he was a kid– leaving the road clear for him to step on the gas.

“Man, this don’t feel real, does it?” Keith said, his mouth half-full, cheeks puffed like a chipmunk as he looked out the window. Ellis turned down the radio to hear him. “Remember that ramp off of White Bluff? I was drivin’, and I hit that shit goin’ like 120! Dave nearly shit his fuckin’ pants. You puked all over my dash, I was fuckin’ pissed.”

Ellis glanced at him, laughing at the memory. “Dude I know! I was just thinkin’ about that! Oh man, that was so funny. I’d do it again, ‘except last time we weren’t dodgin’ zombies n’ shit.”

“Hey, we ain’t seen no zombies yet? If we do, just run them fuckers over. Nothin’ but a speed bump.” Keith grinned, the kind of grin that made him look like a kid trying to get away with something. It was that grin that normally got Ellis into trouble. Keith had a way of turning bad ideas into brilliant ones, and Ellis had a bad habit of going along with them. Like the time Keith got it in his head to make homemade fireworks, or the bumper cars, or the gators. Keith always liked the thrill of having one foot in the grave.

Even when Keith’s ideas blew up in their faces—literally, in the case of the fireworks—Ellis always trusted him. Keith just had this way about him, this dumb kinda confidence that made you believe nothing could ever touch you in his presence. And until that day, Ellis believed him.

“Man, that would be so cool. Use em’ as a ramp, oh– like the Dukes of hazzard!” Ellis cheered with a gleaming smile, both of them laughing.

“Just the good ol’ boys…” Keith sang the tune to the opening. “That used to come on every mornin’ after the news. You remember as a kid, playin’ as them? Man, we were stupid. I’d watch it again though.”

Ellis smiled and swallowed hard, his throat suddenly tight. He didn’t want to think about the news– how all those people died in Macon, or how they might never see another tv show again. Now that the evacuation was mandatory, it all seemed different. He gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. Ellis didn’t like to think about shit like that. So he avoided those thoughts for as long as he could.

“Y’think this hotel’s gonna be as fancy as it used to be? Hell, I ain’t been to The Vannah in a fuckin’ dogs age. Last time I was there, I think I was with Cindy,” Keith asked, breaking the silence. “That bitch that left me at the tunnel of’ love'?”

“Ha! Yeah, I remember that.” Ellis snorted, adjusting his hat. Who’s he kidding? They’re gonna be fine. “Oughta be paradise with all this shit goin’ on. Bet there’s gonna be a shit ton a’ people. Hope they ain’t zombies like on the TV.”

Keith laughed, that wheezy, half-choked sound that always got Ellis laughing too, and for a moment, the world didn’t seem so bad. “Pft, I wasn't payin’ attention to that. That news lady they got on channel 7 is a fine piece, I can tell ya that.”

Then the fuel light dinged, Ellis groaned. They should’ve fueled up before, but everyone was in such a rush to leave, they figured they might as well be too.

“Goddamn, already outta gas,” he muttered, hitting his steering wheel. “This is some bullshit. I told you we should’a gassed ‘er up.”

The gas station came into view a mile or so down the road, a lonely convenience store from when people worried about gas prices and not whether they’d live long enough to pay for it. Ellis pulled the truck into the lot, the tires crunching over broken glass and debris.

“Where the hell are the people? They already left? Man, I better not get a flat from all this glass, I'm serious.” Ellis said, shaking his head as he turned into one of the pumps.

“Shit, this place looks like a scene outta a horror movie,” Keith said, leaning out the window to get a better look. “Betcha there’s bodies in the back.”

“Shut up,” Ellis grinned, slapping him on the shoulder. “Ain’t funny.” He said, despite his smile.

He killed the engine and stepped out, the heat slamming into him like a wall. Goddamn the Georgia heat was relentless. It was quiet. No birds, no wind, just the sound of his boots on the pavement as he walked to the pump. He glanced around—two empty cars, both with busted windows, but not a soul in sight. I mean damn, he didn’t think it would be all peaches and cream, but he definitely didn’t expect nothing like this.

“Hey, you think they got snacks inside?” Keith called from the truck, stepping out and shutting the door.

Ellis smiled and looked over his shoulder, Keith’s words distracting him from reality– like they always did. “Oh, that’s a good idea right there. Man, I could go for a slurpee– or a beer.” He shook his head. “You think they make beer slurpees?”

Keith didn’t answer, and Ellis figured he ran off somewhere to find some food. He was silently wondering if he still had to pay or not, gripping the pump handle, his fingers trembling just a little. He hated how quiet it was. Hated how weird this whole thing felt. He started getting wrapped up in his head again, something he never does. Maybe this whole flu thing was a bigger deal than he thought.

“El,” Keith called again, catching Ellis’s attention.“You see that?”

Ellis turned, following Keith’s gaze to the corner of the lot. A shadow darted between two cars, quick and low, like an animal.

“Prolly just a dog or some shit,” Ellis said, though he didn’t believe it himself. Just ignore it, he told himself, get the gas and go.

Keith snorted. “Yeah, a dog the size of a goddamn linebacker.”

Ellis laughed at that, setting the pump back in its cradle and turned toward the truck. “C’mon, we’re leavin’. Not a man here, so I ain’t payin’. And I sure as hell ain’t killin’ no dog.”

But Keith wasn’t in the truck. He was a good twenty feet away, crouched beside an overturned box, squinting at something on the ground.

“What'd ya find? Hurry your ass up, man.” Ellis smiled, approaching him. Ellis usually didn’t mind the way Keith treated all this like it was just another story they’d laugh about later, it kept his mind from wandering to the parts of this whole mess he wasn’t ready to think about. He didn’t know if he ever would be. Now, Ellis was starting to get a little worried. But he’d never let Keith know that.

Keith looked up, grinning like an idiot, waving the yellow cylinder in the air. “Found me a box of Twinkies! They ain’t even opened!”

“Awh, yeah! Get some and let’s go man, cmon. Move your ass.” Ellis said, beckoning him with a little more insistence in his words. The hairs on his neck stood up, watching as Keith shoved a couple more in his pocket.

“Alright alright. Damn, don’t get your panties in a twist–”

And then it happened.

The “dog” from before launched itself at Keith, moving faster than Ellis blink. Keith barely had time to scream before the thing was on him, its claws ripping into his chest, its weight slamming him to the ground. This wasn’t a dog, this was a human– or it was at one point– as wild as an animal

“Keith!” Ellis yelled, his voice cracking, pulse skyrocketing. “Holy shit!”

The thing snarled with gritted teeth, blood already dripping from its mouth from God knows what. Keith thrashed and yelled, using all the force he could to push the thing off, but it was no use. It’s hands– almost clawed, tore into Keith's ribs, jabbing into his organs again and again and again. This thing wasn’t like the zombies in movies. It wasn’t looking for brains or running on hunger– it was looking to kill.

Ellis grabbed the crowbar he kept in bed of his truck and ran, his legs moving on instinct. The first hit connected with a sickening crunch, sending blood and bits of bone flying. The Hunter reeled, its claws twitching, but Ellis didn't stop. He brought the crowbar down against its skill– feeling every hit– until the thing was a lifeless heap of infected flesh on the ground. Ellis stared in disbelief for a second, panting with burning lungs, before he heard a babbling cough beneath him.

“Keith!” Ellis gasped, forgetting the crowbar and dropping to his knees beside him. Blood pooled on the asphalt under Keith's body– his shirt and flesh shredded to pieces. Keith’s eyes were wide, his chest heaving, blood pouring from the gaping wound in his side, coughing up more of the red liquid from all the internal damage. Ellis reckoned it must’ve hurt something fierce, but the sheer shock and adrenaline must’ve kept Keith from feeling a thing.

“Ellis,” he choked out, his voice weak, looking down at himself in complete disbelief. “Holy fuck, man– holy fuck!” He repeated, his mouth gaping open in surprise. “What the fuck was that thing?!”

“Shit!” Ellis yells, shaking his head. “Holy shit, man! No, it's alright. You’re always fine. Remember the fireworks? The gator?” He tried to chuckle, but it just came out as a choked sob. “Keith, c’mon man, get up! You’re alright…”

Keith tried to smile weakly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Man, this ain’t the same, Ellis! I’m all– I'm everywhere…” The corners of his lips turned downwards. His hands trembled as he attempted to sit up, he couldn’t seem to look at anything but his organs pooling out of his body. Keith gurgled, more blood rising from his throat and out of his teeth. His breath was ragged and thick, the thing must’ve hit one of his lungs.

Pressing his palms to the wound, Ellis tried to stop the red stream from spurting out as best he could, but it only stained the back of his hands. Keith began to choke, and cough out another gush of blood onto his shirt. His wide eyes settled onto Ellis’s face, tears streaming slowly down them. Keith never cried.

“I think I'm gonna die, man…” He whispered, voice quivering as his hand reached for Ellis, fingers weakly gripping his shirt. “That thing knocked the life outta me.”

“No,” Ellis whispered, his voice breaking, shaking his head in denial. “Shut up, man. No, no, no. No, man you’re not gonna die.” He pleaded, silently praying, repenting for every sin they’ve ever committed. Not Keith man, he couldn’t lose his best buddy.

“Shit, Ellis man.. I don’t wanna die…” Keith said, his panicked voice dropping low, words slurring. “I’m– You’re my best friend, man…” His eyes grew big for a few seconds, so full of fear, looking up to the sky at something Ellis couldn’t see. Ellis shook his head, his lips beginning to move, begging for him to keep holding on. Begging for God not to do this to either of them. Keith took a few more ragged breaths, and one last sticky heave, before his eyes shut. His body went slack, head lolling to the side.

“KEITH!” Ellis yelled, shaking him now. “No, no no no. Man, c’mon man!” He said, gripping hard on his shoulders. It was then when he realised he was crying himself. Keith was dead. Keith just died in front of him, in his arms. “Shit!”

Ellis abruptly stumbled to his feet, sticky with his best friend's blood. He studied his muddy hands, palms up, palms down. He could feel his pulse in the tips of his fingers, his hands sore from gripping the crowbar so hard. Staring at Keith and the zombie's lifeless body, a numbing despair settled over him. It all happened so fast… so fuckin’ fast.

He had to get out of here.

Ellis climbed into the driver’s seat, fumbling with the keys and staring at his hands. He found a grease rag in the compartment of his truck, desperately scrubbing his best friend’s DNA off his skin, though it didn’t do much but dry them. His blood was in the beds of his fingernails. He started the engine and pulled onto the road, hands trembling on the wheel. He didn’t look in the mirror, he didn’t dare look back.

He was going to the evac station– he’ll meet Keith there.

Keith wasn’t dead. That wasn’t his body dying in Ellis’s arms. He was back in the truck, laughing about Twinkies or pools or something stupid. Or better yet, somewhere at home with a beer and a shotgun, safe as can be. Yeah. He’s alright.

Keith was fine. Ellis never saw anyone die.

He had never seen a zombie before.

Nothing could ever touch him.

✟ ✟ ✟

[emsdevs]

I’m a sucker for Angst, so a heaviest of heavy Angst will always do it for me, like I need my insides to feel like it’s being stabbed and overwhelmed with all sort of emotions. Bonus point if it’s long. Hope this isn’t too much to ask for maybe I’m getting too carried away loll Could you do it with Justin Herbert please?

No Strings?

a/n: nonnie you sent this at the perfect time! I've had justin on my schedule for a while, but couldn't figure out what to write for him, so this worked out perfectly! this does not have a happy ending but i might be open to a part two if enough people want it. enjoyyyy :)

masterlist | NFL Masterlists | Justin Herbert Masterlist

You swore you could handle casual. When you started whatever you had going on with Justin, you swore you were the kind of person who could have a casual relationship, but now you aren’t so sure. When Justin asked you out four months ago, you never would’ve expected to be where you are now. It had all been going so well. The dates had been everything you could’ve asked for and more, and Justin was the perfect gentleman. It all began to go downhill after your third date. You had invited Justin into your apartment when he dropped you off, your intentions clear, and he had followed you inside. You two had been sitting on the couch when things began to get serious, the kiss you were sharing heating up.

Justin pulled away, looking slightly guilty. “I feel like I need to be honest with you about something before this goes any further.”

“Um, yeah, okay,” you were a little confused, but you let him speak.

“Look, because of the job I have, I really can’t do anything serious right now. I know I’ve probably led you on a little bit, but I swear I’ve never had any intentions to hurt you,” he stared at you, looking nervous.

“That’s okay!” you speak up too quickly for your liking. “We don’t have to stop unless that’s what you want. I can do casual.” Surely, you could. It couldn’t be that different from a normal relationship.

“You sure? I don’t wanna overstep if casual isn’t something you’re comfortable with.”

“Yeah, of course. No strings attached. Just having fun.”

As Justin leaned back in, you were thinking that this could definitely work. Justin was great, and this would keep him in your life without overstepping any boundaries. You could do casual.

~~

Turns out, you can’t do casual. You’ve been trying to stay normal, but you realized two days ago that you were falling for Justin, hard. You’d been keeping it to yourself, not wanting to scare him away, but it’s getting more and more difficult. He’s just so sweet, and the things he tends to do for you simply cannot be casual.

Is it casual when he plays with the ends of your hair before you get out of bed in the morning? Is it casual for him, even though he keeps all your favorite snacks at his place for when you have movie nights? If it’s casual, why does he keep a drawer free so you have space to keep a few clothes at his place? If it’s casual, why does he know you better than you know yourself? Why has he gotten you your favorite flowers every two weeks since you went on that first date with him? Why does he know “How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days” is the perfect movie to cheer you up after a long day? If it’s casual for him, why is he acting like he’s in love with you?

Eventually, it had gotten to a point where you couldn’t stand lying to him or yourself anymore. After four months of no strings, you had to talk to him. You finally got the chance one night when he invited you over for a movie night. Before the movie got started, you decided it was time to break the news.

“Justin… I actually think we need to talk,” you wiped your hands on your pants, feeling them already starting to sweat from the nerves.

“Oh! Uh, yeah, sure. What’s up?”

“I just really need to say this, and I know you probably won’t like it, but I need you to listen until I finish,” you pause, waiting for him to nod. “Okay, so, I just feel like we’ve definitely crossed some lines in this arrangement, ya know? Like we both have a drawer at each other’s places. We’re spending the night together, and sometimes, we hang out without even having sex. I just… this isn’t what we originally agreed to,” you were avoiding saying what you were truly feeling.

“So we’ll step back some? I don’t know. That doesn’t seem like something to be worried abou-”

“I caught feelings for you, Justin,” he just stares at you, shocked, “I know we said no feelings, but we’ve just gotten a little too close. We don’t have to stop or anything. I’m a big girl. I can handle-”

“No. No, we should stop,” he cuts you off, and it’s your turn to stare.

“Seriously?”

“We said no strings. I told you I can’t do relationships because of my job. If you have feelings for me, this needs to stop now before it can get worse.”

“Right,” you stood robotically, grabbing your things and walking out of Justin’s house with tears in your eyes. The worst part? He didn’t even try to stop you. Somehow, with one sentence, you ruined something that could’ve been so good for you, that had been so good for you.

~~

Now, it had been three months since that night, and you hadn’t spoken to Justin since. You’ve been going through the motions, just doing a fairly normal routine to make it through your day. You wake up, get dressed, go home, shower, cry while you eat your sorrows away, sleep, and then do it all again the next day. Nothing has felt right since your breakup with Justin, if that’s what you would even call. How can you break up with someone you were never really dating. 

You’ve found your confidence to be much lower recently, too. You couldn’t count the amount of time you’ve wondered where you went wrong. Why did you have to tell him? Why would he not even try? Why didn’t he follow you? Today, you found the answer.

You had decided that a day out would do you some good, so since you had the day off, you got dressed and walked around the city. You were about to go into one of your favorite coffee shops, one that you had brought Justin to many times. As you neared the door, you caught a glimpse of something that shattered your heart in a second. There sat Justin across from some girl you’ve never seen, looking too close to just be friends. You watched as she stood, kissing his cheek before she wandered off to the bathroom. A bright smile made its way onto Justin’s face, a smile you had never managed to bring out of him. With your heart broken all over again, you made your way to a close friend’s place. It was closer than yours, and you knew you didn’t want to be alone right now.

He had told you he couldn’t be in a relationship, but what he really meant was that he couldn’t be in a relationship with you. The questions began to set in again. Were you not pretty enough? Not popular enough? Did he need someone in the same tax bracket as him? Did he really just not like you? Did he think you weren’t good enough for him? Was he lying the entire time, every time he told you how special you were to him

Even with all the questions you had, you knew two things for sure. You were done with Justin Herbert, and you definitely could not do casual.

taglist: @heartsforjh @irishmanwhore @heartforherbert @jusaints @one-sweet-gubler

join the taglist

[meo-eiru]

Theo doesn’t talk to her.

Not because he doesn’t want to.

Because he can’t.

Because every time he even thinks about opening his mouth, his throat closes up, and his hands shake, and he feels like he might just throw up on the floor.

She’s right there, inches away, talking to someone else, laughing like it’s nothing, like it’s so easy to be… perfect.

Theo grips the hem of his sweater and looks down, brown curls spilling over his face, hiding what he doesn’t want the world to see. His eye burns, his single, lonely green eye, the one thing that makes him stand out in all the worst ways.

She can’t see it.

She can’t see him.

He wants to be seen, but only by her. Wants her to notice, but not too much. Wants her to hear the words he can’t even say.

"Y/N..."

The name is a fragile thing in his head, something that might shatter if he says it too loud.

He watches from the corner of his eye as she reaches into her bag, fingers brushing against something, a pen maybe, and the thought of how easy it would be to hold that hand makes his chest feel hollow. He knows the shape of her hands better than his own. Knows the way her lips move when she’s lost in thought. Knows how she tucks her hair behind her ear when she’s concentrating.

But she doesn’t know him… maybe that’s for the best. Because if she ever really saw him, saw the way his fingers twitch when she’s too close, saw the way he lingers just a second longer in the places she’s been, saw the way his thoughts wrap around her name like thorns, and his eye—

She’d run.

They always do.

(Back with a short fic for my favorite cyclops)

I have to admit I was so immersed in this I actually tried to like it as if it was a post and not an ask in my inbox

My god op you write so beautifully, you really made me feel his loneliness.

Theo is indeed very lonely, he usually doesn't mind it. He made peace with the fact he would probably spend his entire life alone around elementary school. He's alright, it's not like he's jealous of the people who go out with their friends, do romantic stuff with their lovers or just... exist without the fear of the other person finding them disgusting.

But your sheer existence makes all his resolve crumble down. His sweet, beautiful, perfect y/n. Someone who can do wrong. Even if you did hurt someone you probably had your reasons.

He loves you. He loves you so much. For the longest time he couldn't even bring himself to think like that in his head because someone like him doesn't have the right to think of you in such ways.

But even as the monster he is Theo still has emotions. Some too strong for his weak body to handle, so he tries to make it better.

He sketches you as he secretly watches you from a few seats behind, he writes your name over and over again like a prayer, he secretly follows you home and takes you pictures. Sometimes he intentionally skips his lesson to go rummage your locker, if he's lucky he'll find a piece of clothing and will try to relive himself while hugging and smelling it for the next hour or so.

He doesn't want to be seen, but he wants you to see him. He doesn't want to be noticed, but he wants you to notice him. He doesn't want to be touched, but he wants you to touch him.

He often fantasizes about you catching him as he tries to steal one of your belongings. He wants you to make him regret it, but also become aware that he is there. He wants you to talk to him even if it's to call him a creep. Because Theo is a coward, he's a coward who pathetically stalks you instead of actually having to courage to speak up. So he wants you to do it. He wants you to one day turn around and see him, your eyes to meet his.

You noticing him, you knowing him, you insulting him, you loving him.

[midnightfict]

What History?

— 𓆩𓆪 —

𓆩 Lee Byung-Hun x F!reader 𓆪

Summary — Squid Game fans have been shipping two actors not knowing they have a history together.

A/N — aaaa, writer’s block is killing me. but the reqs i've been getting is starting to help. i promise i’m currently drafting for the other reqs.

request post

— 𓆩𓆪 —

The room was brightly lit, cameras positioned at every angle, and a familiar nervousness settled in the pit of your stomach. You weren’t new to interviews, but something about these promotional videos always made you a little jittery. Maybe it was the anticipation of how fans would react, or maybe it was the fact that sitting next to you was none other than Lee Byung-hun—your former high school boyfriend and now your co-star in Squid Game Season 2.

The two of you walked into the room together, followed by director Hwang Dong-hyuk, who greeted the crew with a casual nod.

“Alright,” a staff member announced. “We’re shooting two videos today. The first segment is watching fan edits, and the second is reading fan letters. Just react naturally, have fun, and remember—no breaking into hysterics.”

Byung-hun chuckled beside you. “That sounds like a challenge.”

You smirked. “You sound scared.”

“I might as well be. Have you seen those AI edits of me and Lee Jung-jae?”

The staff gestured for silence, signaling that the cameras were rolling. You introduced yourself to the camera, followed by Byung-hun and Dong-hyuk. The screen before you flickered to life, and the first video started playing.

The first edit was cinematic—a high-energy montage of Squid Game 2’s most intense moments. Gunfights, chase sequences, close-ups of steely gazes. It had everything. The booming orchestral soundtrack made every scene feel ten times more dramatic.

Byung-hun let out an impressed whistle. “Did we actually shoot something this cool?”

You nodded. “Because I don’t remember looking this badass.”

Dong-hyuk leaned forward, squinting. “Wait—when did you do that roll behind cover?”

You snorted. “That’s the one where I landed wrong and bruised my entire arm.”

Byung-hun grinned. “Ohhh, right. And you tried to play it off like you meant to do it.”

“I did mean to do it.”

Dong-hyuk shook his head. “That’s not what you said when you screamed in pain afterward.”

Byung-hun burst into laughter. Your light punch to his side silenced him, earning a dramatic yelp.

“Give respect to your elders!”

You gave the camera a look. “He’s so dramatic. We’re literally only one year apart.”

The next edit was a deep dive into In-ho’s past, set in black and white with emotional piano music. It contrasted his life as a police officer with his role as the Front Man, highlighting the tragedy of his choices.

Dong-hyuk hummed thoughtfully. “This fan basically made a better teaser than we did.”

Byung-hun nodded. “Can we hire them?”

You pointed at a particular shot. “This scene—this is when you had to retake your mask removal, what, twenty times?”

Byung-hun groaned. “Ugh. The mask kept getting caught on my hood. Every time I tried to look dramatic, I just looked stuck.”

Dong-hyuk chuckled. “We had to cut out three takes where you sighed right into the mask.”

Byung-hun held up his hands. “No need to expose me like that.”

Then came the brainrot edit. An animation of Squid Game characters dancing to some bizarre, upbeat song.

You had the biggest grin—too silly not to laugh. The video didn’t even make sense.

Dong-hyuk had his brows furrowed, an amused but not entirely entertained smile on his face.

Byung-hun, on the other hand, sat perfectly still, eyes locked on the screen. No one could tell what he was thinking.

When it ended, you all exchanged an awkward glance.

“I mean… I like it. It’s an interesting video,” you said, wiping tears from the corners of your eyes, still laughing.

Dong-hyuk fixed his glasses. “Is this what people see when they watch my show?”

Byung-hun crossed his arms. “They didn’t do me justice. Why is the Front Man not included in this video?”

The staff smirked. “Don’t worry, there’s a Front Man edit in the next one.”

The next video was different. The music was softer, the pacing slower. It highlighted your character’s interactions with In-ho—subtle glances, moments of hesitation, scenes where your characters moved in sync. It wasn’t obvious in the actual show, but with the way the editor framed it…

It almost looked like something was going on.

Byung-hun blinked. “What’s this?”

Dong-hyuk raised an eyebrow. “They created scenes that aren’t even in the series.”

You squinted. “Are we too old to understand what this is?”

It was a ship edit.

Silence.

Then, Byung-hun let out a slow, amused chuckle. “Well. That was unexpected.”

Dong-hyuk crossed his arms. “You two do have really natural chemistry.”

You cleared your throat. “I mean, our characters have history, so—”

Byung-hun nodded. “Right, right. Former police officers.”

Dong-hyuk hummed. “Well, I had another love interest in mind for In-ho, but thinking about it… your characters being shipped makes sense. Maybe I should make it canon in Season 3.”

Both you and Byung-hun snapped your heads toward him.

“Huh?!”

The crew erupted into laughter. Dong-hyuk smiled and closed the segment with a thank-you and a Squid Game 2 promotion.

After a quick makeup touch-up, a staff member placed a stack of envelopes in front of you, Byung-hun, and Dong-hyuk.

Dong-hyuk stretched his arms and grinned. “Alright, let’s see what the fans have to say. If anyone insults my writing, I’m walking out.”

Byung-hun smirked. “I’d say you’re bluffing, but we all know you’re dramatic enough to do it.”

You laughed. “Place your bets, everyone. How many letters will be about Byung-hun’s attractiveness?”

Byung-hun scoffed. “Excuse me, I am a serious actor. Not just a handsome face.”

The cameras rolled.

You picked up the first letter and smoothed it out before reading aloud.

‘Dear Director Hwang, your storytelling is a masterpiece. Every scene feels like it has so much depth and emotion. How do you come up with such gripping narratives?’

Dong-hyuk’s face lit up. “Ah, A letter for me!”

Byung-hun immediately reached over, fingers grasping at the paper. “Skip it.”

You swatted his hand away. “No, let him have his moment.”

Dong-hyuk straightened his posture, adjusting his jacket with mock importance. “Well, since you asked… My process is simple. I think, ‘What is the most stressful, painful situation I can put my characters in?’ And then I do that.”

Byung-hun leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. “I knew you enjoyed torturing us.”

Dong-hyuk grinned. “Absolutely.”

Byung-hun exhaled, then grabbed the next letter from the pile, unfolding it.

‘Was filming action scenes difficult? Especially the parkour scenes.’

You didn’t hesitate. “Oh, definitely. That scene where I had to jump from bed to bed? I had bruises for days.”

Byung-hun winced at the memory. “Oh yeah, you took a pretty bad fall.”

You sighed dramatically, throwing your arms up. “And no one even said ‘cut’ when I landed wrong! I had to just lie there in pain.”

Dong-hyuk raised a hand in defense. “Okay, to be fair, it looked intentional.”

Byung-hun let out a deep chuckle, shaking his head. “You heard it here first, folks. The director is a masochist.”

Dong-hyuk smirked. “It builds character.”

Byung-hun rubbed his temple. “I worry for your future wife.”

You sifted through the pile and grabbed the next letter.

‘To Byung-hun, was it difficult wearing the Front Man’s mask for long periods of time? It looks heavy.’

Byung-hun groaned dramatically, flopping against the back of his chair. “Oh, you have no idea.”

Dong-hyuk snorted. “He complained about it every single day.”

Byung-hun sat up, pointing at him. “Because it was a legitimate problem! The mask was so heavy, and it pressed into my face so much that I had red marks after every shoot.”

You bit back a laugh. “And let’s not forget the time it got stuck.”

Byung-hun groaned, covering his face with his hands. “Oh, please, let’s forget that.”

Dong-hyuk smirked. “We have footage.”

Byung-hun immediately turned to the camera, eyes pleading. “Dear editors, if you have any mercy, don’t include that clip.”

They did.

Dong-hyuk chuckled and grabbed the next letter. “‘Director Hwang, who is your favorite character in Squid Game?’”

He let out a dramatic sigh. “Yikes. That’s like asking me to pick my favorite child.”

Byung-hun smirked. “But we all know you have a favorite.”

Dong-hyuk tapped his fingers against the table, pretending to contemplate. “Well… I have a soft spot for In-ho.”

Byung-hun gasped, clutching his chest as if he’d been struck. “You love me?”

Dong-hyuk’s deadpan stare didn’t waver. “I said I love In-ho. Not you.”

You burst into laughter as Byung-hun recoiled in mock betrayal. “Wow, I won’t return to Season 3 then.”

Dong-hyuk ignored him, his expression thoughtful. “I love complex characters, and In-ho has so much depth. There’s still so much left to explore with him.”

You leaned in. “So, does that mean he’s safe in Season 3?”

Dong-hyuk smirked. “I mean, it’s possible, but I don’t know. We’ll have to find out.”

Byung-hun cut in, laughing. “What do you mean you don’t know? You created the story.”

Dong-hyuk simply shrugged. “Let’s just say… No one is ever truly safe.”

The next letter Byung-hun picked up seemed harmless at first.

‘I don’t know what it is, but…’

He stopped mid-sentence, chuckling as he glanced at the camera, then at you and Dong-hyuk. “I don’t know if I can continue reading this without someone getting mad.”

Silence fell over the room.

Curious, you snatched the letter from his hands and scanned it. A laugh bubbled out of you. “Who’s gonna get mad over this?”

Byung-hun gave you a knowing look, subtly hinting at someone you had dated during filming.

Your expression faltered for half a second before you quickly masked it with a tight smile. Keeping your mouth hidden from the camera, you mouthed, “We broke up.”

Dong-hyuk grinned and leaned forward to peek at the letter over your shoulder. “Well, well, well. They think you two have some history together because you make the characters so compelling together.”

Byung-hun cleared his throat, spitting out a joke before anyone could dwell on the comment. “Have you guys ever considered we are both just very good actors?”

Dong-hyuk stroked his chin, looking thoughtful. “Seeing how everybody seems to ship you two, maybe I should create a romance movie with you both.”

You and Byung-hun turned to him in horror, simultaneously shaking your heads.

Dong-hyuk simply shrugged. “What? The fans love it. I should give them what they want.”

Byung-hun laughed nervously and quickly faced the camera. “Okay let's end it! Thank you for watching this video. Don’t forget to watch us on Netflix!”

After finishing the shoot, the three of you parted ways—but the internet did not.

A week after the video was published, fans went crazy. The shipping theories got worse. Your social media was flooded with comments. Multiple media outlets invited you and Byung-hun for interviews together, riding the hype.

One afternoon, before another press event, you texted him.

Want to grab coffee before the next interview?

Thought you’d never ask.

At the café, he took a sip of his drink and smirked. “Remember how broke we were from getting coffee every other day in high school?”

You groaned. “Oh god, that was what? Twenty—no, thirty years ago? High school was rough. I don’t even want to remember that.”

“You’re mean. So I meant nothing to you?” He feigned hurt, holding back a smile.

“Oh, shush. You know what I mean.” You playfully pushed his forehead as he held the door open for you. “Besides, we lasted ‘til university, no—”

Click.

A camera shutter.

You froze. He froze.

Through the café window, a crowd had formed. Some held up phones. Others were whispering excitedly.

Fuck. They found you.

Byung-hun exhaled. “Well, I guess there’s no turning back.”

Then, with a smirk, he grabbed your hand, laced his fingers through yours, and yanked you out of the sea of screaming fans.