#its okay yall i filled in the gaps

[hearts4werka]

NNN day 13 | You Can’t Save Me

“I thought I could do it without dragging you deeper. Shit, I was wrong.”

summary: Matt was a gang member and you knew the life as one or alongside one was a constant gamble for your life, never knowing what you’ll roll nor what consequences you will have to face. Today you didn’t know you would be facing one of them out of Matthew’s not informing you that they owed money to the violent rival gang, not thinking as an outcome I’ll have to face the barrier between life or death, will you somehow survive or face the consequences and give into the dark feeling of death?

warnings: ANGST, painful death, hospital setting, gang membership, heavy language, arguing, between life or death, swearing, mentions of B&E as well as fighting, sensitive topics that could trigger some readers & viewers advisory is supervised! English isn’t my first language so these can suck ass

authors note: lately I haven’t rlly been feeling the best and have got into some issues but I still found the courage to write something for yall for NNN and the intro post is gonna be out later tonight and I just gotta finish up some stuff and I’ll post it, luv y’all sm and hope y’all enjoy this one.

no nut november | masterlist | guestlist

The fluorescent lights above flickered inconsistently, a cruel reminder of the life I was currently losing the grasp over. The sterile scent of disinfection filled the air, mixing with the lingering smell of regret. I lay sprawled on the hospital bed, tubes snaking from my body and monitoring the slow and steady decline of my life. The beeping machines around me marked time I had left and even that was slowly slipping away from my grasp of control, each note a reminder of the moments fading away. My heart was still pounding, but I could feel its rhythm weakening.

Matt stood at the foot of the bed, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his leather jacket with his shoulders hunched as if he were carrying the weight of the whole fucking world. His usually cocky demeanor was stripped bare from him leaving only a vulnerable kid who never actually grew up. Tears streamed down his face while cutting tracks through the sweat that adores his skin like a cruel battle map. “Look, I’m really fucking sorry, okay?” His voice cracked like a twig as he took a step closer, desperate to build a bridge between the gap in between us. “I never thought they’d come for you! I swear, I thought I could handle it!”

My mouth felt dry, each breath a labored struggle to grasp any control over my life. “Handle what, Matt?” I bite back, an involuntary bitterness flowing through the veins within my body. “You think you can just barge into my life, drag me into whatever shit you’re tangled in and then act surprised when it bites us in the ass You’re a goddamn idiot!” “I know!” he shouted, fists clenching and unclenching as if trying to beat the regret from his body. “I know, and I’d give anything to take it back. But I was too fucking proud, too stupid to admit we owed those bastards money! I didn’t think they’d get violent, you know? I thought they’d just scare us or shake us down but then they—”

“They busted through the door like a goddamn SWAT team!” I stated, choking on anger and pain I was feeling all at the same time. “You didn’t think they’d want blood? You dragged me into a fucking war, Matt, and now I’m stuck here.” “I didn’t mean for this to happen!” His voice broke like an old doll and he stepped closer to my slowly dying body. “I thought… I thought I could keep you safe. I thought—” His words faded into a heavy silence instead filled with the beeps of machines surrounding us and the muffled sounds of hospital life outside. I could see the regret washing over him in waves, each one crashing harder than the last. I wanted to hate him, to blame him for this whole mess but I knew that life in the gang was a constant gamble for your life and I had rolled the dice alongside him. Now regretting my choice more and more as my life slipped away from my fingertips.

“Why didn’t you call?” I asked finally, my voice barely above a whisper as it couldn’t go any louder without hurting my throat. “You could’ve just called for help instead of trying to take it all on by yourself. We were supposed to be in this together.” He ran a shaky hand through his hair, the weight of his decisions evident in the deep wrinkles now shadowing his forehead. “I was just trying to protect you,” he murmured under his breath, his words barely making it past the knot in his throat. “I thought I could do it without dragging you deeper. Shit, I was wrong.”

Tears continued to stream down his face as he moved closer to my bed, taking my hand in his shaky one. In that moment, his grip felt both comforting and suffocating. All I could think was how this was it, this was the end of my life and I was stuck with the boy who had pulled me irreversibly into the chaos now I’m loosing my life over. “I can’t lose you,” he whispered, desperation dripping from his voice. “Not like this. Please don’t leave me.” The warmth of his palm felt like fire against my cool skin, dragging my attention back into the moment. “Don’t you dare fuck up your life over this, Matt. You think you can just take all the blame?” I gasped, the effort of speaking exhausting me out of every last bit of energy left inside of me. “If I go, you better make sure to get the hell out of here. Get away from this life but especially get away from this… all of it. Just… live.”

“No,” he cried, shaking his head vehemently. “No, I can’t do this without you. I don’t want to! It doesn’t make sense. You’re my—” “Your what? Your fucking partner? Your—” A fit of coughing washed over me, sharp pangs radiating through my chest as I struggled against the pain. “This isn’t a damn movie, Matt.” I took a ragged breath and stared hard into his eyes. “You get to be free, get to choose a better fucking path. Don’t waste my death living the same life.” Matt fell silent then, the resolve in his eyes cracking intensely. I could see the fight draining out of him, and I realized that we had both lost long ago. “Promise me,” I said, the words barely a whisper.

He nodded slowly, his tears blending with the chaos that filled the space between us. “I promise,” he said. “I will. I’ll do it for you.” As my breath slowed becoming less and less consistent, I focused on him and felt the weight of my own defeat. “Goodbye, Matt,” I gasped, my words slurring and fading. “Please, stay with me!” he pleaded, his voice breaking into pieces like shattered glass. But deep down, I knew the battle has finally came to an end. The darkness was creeping in and as I drifted away into unconsciousness, the last thing I heard was the sound of his broken heart echoing in the sterile silence of the hospital room.

@hearts4werka | do not copy, repost nor plagiarize any of my work on here or different platforms. You can be ‚inspired’ by my work but pls credit me and ask for permission first!

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[aspirin82]

Yall we need to stop overly fanonizing the twins, I know its really fun to treat them like your OCs and give them lots headcanons, fan art and fan fiction etc. since Brawl Stars usually gives you bread crumbs about the lore (sometimes even huge chunks) and its your job to fill in the gaps. But like this mischaracterization of them bothered me a lot and yk what? I need to speak up about it. Its also okay if you enjoy these types of characterization of them, I dont mind. I just wanted to share my point of view.

I seen a lot of stuff that would depict Larry as someone who would cry if Lawrie scolded him or “he wouldnt even hurt a fly🥺🥺” type of person. WELL NUH UH!!?

In their lose animation, Lawrie most likely shouts at him and Larry looks scared.

But then Larry fights back and HEAD BUTS HIM? It gets physical real quick.

Finally, in this pic, it even looks like Larry punched him in the face. Also Larry looks mad.(LAWRIE LOOKS LIKE HES ABOUT TO SNEEZE LMAO😭😭)

IN CONCLUSION MY MOST BELOVEDS AND DEAR FRIENDS‼️‼️ Larry is not some innocent baby. He can stand up for himself when he has to. Please dont depict him as someone who is not capable of getting angry. He can.

Besides, Im dating both of them so-

Have a nice week friends!😍❤️

[joekeeryswife]

AHH girl dad! pedro is really just occupying my mind rn….

that one imagine with expecting! reader really has me in a chokehold but just thinking about how sweet pedro would be while your in labor

from the jump, he’d be by your side. the minute you feel your water break in bed and your contractions are feeling a little too real, hes right by your side. his old man brain is definitely a little discombobulated at first bit he’s definitely trying to get you out of your now soaked pjs and into some dry sweats to get you into the car.

thanks to you and all your nesting while pedro’s at work, all the hospital bags were set up and stocked fully for you, him, and the baby, along with the carseat already being installed, you guys were officially set up to be parents!!! pedro knows these contractions are really taking a toll on you so he’d give you all the time in the world to get your bum in the car. as soon as your both seated and settled, the drive over is filled with so much groaning and moaning and squeezing his hand with a freakishly amount of strength, because once again, contractions are indeed, a bitch.

but pedro will let you scream and shout all you need, hes just happy to be there with you. but he cant help but feel some sort of guilt. you both had entered this journey into parenthood but here you were carrying the heaviest load. so he did what he could best. after arriving in the hospital and being sent up to the suite you’d be staying in for the next few days, he’ your number 1 advocate. you want more ice chips? he’s already running down to grab you some more. one nurse isnt following the intended birth plan? best believe he is already asking for a new one. back hurts? hes the first to get behind you and rub it. hes going on walks with you, doing your lamaaze training (which he initially thought was dumb), holding you the exact way you need to be held, whispering sweet nothings, telling you how strong you are and how proud he is of you.

pedro makes it known that he wants to be as involved in the birthing process as possible, however he is needed. when its time to push, hes holding your leg up for you, praising you, helping the doctor count down on the pushes. as terrifying as it sounds, he had never been more glad to make such an effort. getting to watch beautiful, life-changing moment for the both you you. watching your daughter enter the world. i wholeheartedly believe the minute that little girl comes out, hes sobbing. i mean not that you arent but he just can’t express any other emotion what the overwhelming feeling of gratitude he feels. he feels incredibly lucky to have such a wonderful partner. he feels so lucky to have someone who was willing to go through all the troubles and challenges pregnancy presented to you. he feels incredibly lucky to have his heart grown even bigger for the newest addition into yalls life.

the minute your daughter is placed on you chest, it is the first time in a while that everything just feels right, and in place. your heart is more than content. you and your little family.🤍

i have so many thoughts in my mind about dad! pedro pascal, i just have no idea where to put them😭

Labour - p.p

hello angels! i’m honestly fuming because my last pedro fanfic got cut short- idk wtf is up with tumblr BUT… this request was the cutest thing i’ve ever read i don’t even think my writing is going to live up to it. i hope this is okay that it’s a part two to my last fanfic! enjoy angels (p.s dad! imagines are my fave so don’t be shy to put them in my inbox! x) 🤍 ⚠️age gap couple⚠️

taglist (don’t forget to add yourselves🤍) @1-john-4-19 @newtandminhoaretoocute @mavs101 @brilliantopposite187 @mimi-luvzyu (if there’s a line through your name i cannot tag you for some reason x)

"Pedro, get here right now" you shouted as you sat up in bed, looking down at the now soaking bedcovers. he had insisted you go lay down and rest as a few contractions throughout the day had worn you out and now, after an hour of sleep, your water had finally broke. you heard rapid foot steps approaching the bedroom and then the door fly open.

"what?" he looked frantic, and once he saw your anxious look on your face he knew. he walked to your side of the bed and lifted the bed covers off of you and held his hand out so he could help you up which you gently took ahold of. he could see the wet stain on the bedsheet but that was the last thing he was worrying about, he was worrying about you.

he helped you sit up and watched as a contraction surged through your body, making your face scrunch up and a small whimper escape your mouth, you squeezed his hand and tried breathing through it. after the contraction subsided you turned your body so your feet were flat on the floor, getting out of bed had gotten a lot harder and you always had to sit to catch your breath before you could get up.

"i'm sorry" you said as you looked back at the stained bed. he kept his gentle hold on your hand and lent in to give you a small kiss on your forehead. "hey, don't worry. it's only a bedsheet baby, are you okay?" once he saw you give him a small nod and a smile which reassured him enough he let go of your hand and walked to the chest of draws to get you some knew sweatpants then quickly made his way back to you.

"we gotta get you to the hospital love, you've gotta get changed" he helped you stand up which made his heart crush when he saw you breathing through yet another contraction. each one was coming with a whole new level of pain and it broke his heart that he couldn't do anything to take the pain away.

after that contraction finally subsided he helped you get changed into the fresh sweatpants and with that he grabbed your phone and your hand then helped you make your way to front door, he had to grab the baby's bags which were packed by you. you had started packing a month before your due date whilst Pedro was still working/doing interviews and he had never been more grateful that you had done that instead of rushing to do it at near your due date.

the car seat had been installed in the car three weeks ago just incase the baby decided they wanted to show up a little earlier than planned but they didn't, your due date was two days away and it looked like your baby would be coming right on time. once he was sure he had everything he quickly made his way back to you and helped you slip on your shoes and then to the elevator. the ride down to the car park of the apartment complex was filled with groans of pain as the contractions started to get closer together.

Pedro held your hand as the elevator finally stopped on the ground floor and guided you to the car which was luckily not to far away from the elevator, meaning you didn't have to walk far. "babe we have to stop for a second" you said, these contractions were really brutal, so brutal that they actually made you want to cry and that was rare. you had a very high pain tolerance so when Pedro saw you with teary eyes he knew these were really getting to you.

you hunched over slightly as a more painful contraction hit you, this time the pain went to the bottom of your back and lower stomach. Pedro let go of your hand and placed it on your back, rubbing it softly. "you're doing so well honey, so so well" he said as you stood up right again. all you wanted to do was sit down and with the car being in your view, maybe 15 steps away, you knew you needed to get there.

Pedro kept his hand on your back as you both started walking to the car again and you breathed a sigh of relief when you finally made it. he opened the passenger door for you and helped you into the seat. "you comfortable baby?" he asked you and watched you nod your head. you had heard from so many people that contractions hurt but you did not think they would hurt this much. he closed the car door and then made his way to the boot so he could put the bags away.

once he was settled in the drivers side he immediately started the car and started the thirty minute drive to the hospital. the whole ride to the hospital was filled with you groaning in pain with each contraction that came and with that came the soft words of encouragement Pedro spoke to you. this was probably the softest you'd ever heard him and it made your heart swell with love as he tried his best to make you feel better, 'you're doing so well my love, keep breathing that's it' 'you're gonna be such a good mama, you're doing brilliantly honey'

"mother fucker this hurts so much" you said as you squeezed Pedro's hand tightly. he took his eyes off of the road for a split second to look at you. he didn't know why but he felt guilty. you were both becoming parents, both on this pregnancy journey together yet you were the one that had dealt with the morning sickness, crazy hormone changes, cravings, back pain, and now contractions. "i know sweetheart but you're doing so well, we are almost there, five minutes tops" he lifted your hand to his mouth and placed a small kiss there for comfort.

-

you were finally at the hospital in the room where you would give birth to your baby. the nurse had checked and you were only 7cm dilated meaning you had another 3 to go. you were hunched over the bed, trying to get some sort of relief from the pain in your back, laying down did not help at all so you had to stick to this. Pedro was behind you, massaging the bottom of your back as you groaned in pain.

he watched the monitor which was tracking all of your contractions and saw that this one was a lot worse than the other ones. "that's it honey, well done. you're doing amazing" his words of encouragement filled your ears as your hand grabbed onto the bed sheets, keeping them in a tight grasp until the contraction subsided.

"that one was so bad" you said as you stood up straight and turned to face Pedro. he had a sympathetic look on his face. "i know" he opened his arms and you immediately 'fell' into him, needing one of his hugs. they always calmed you down somehow and right now you needed to calm down. "i'm so hungry" you said with a sigh.

you, for some reason, were only allowed to eat ice chips and all you wanted was a burger and actual chips but you couldn't, not until after you'd given birth. "we've run out of ice baby, let me go get you some" and with a kiss on forehead he pulled away from you to go find a nurse. within 5 minutes he was back with more ice chips. "here you are" he said lifting the spoon filled with ice chips up to your lips so you could eat them. "thank you sweetie" you said as you chewed on the ice. he lent in to kiss you on the lips and said a small "you're welcome" before feeding you more ice.

Pedro had been a bit weary of one particular nurse, she was in her mid 30s and was the most judgemental person he'd ever met. she was just not listening to a thing you had suggested and she was just one of those nurses who never listened to their patient, whatever the nurse wanted to do that's what was happening with no debate.

Pedro finally had enough of her when she almost made you cry with her harsh words and judgmental stares which lingered a little to long so she knew you'd notice. you both got judged on a daily basis on social media for your age gap but you had never had any bad experiences in real life, people were always so kind to you and in the thousands of judgemental people where were thousands of supportive people who always said how cute you guys were.

he had waited until she left before he slipped out of the room to speak to someone about getting a different nurse. you were in so much pain and having a nurse who wasn't making you feel any better was not something he'd ever want you to go through. luckily, there was an older nurse who was more than happy to take over. she must of been in her 60s. she followed Pedro back to your room and introduced herself to you. already the atmosphere had changed, she was so sweet to both of you and there was definitely no judgement coming from her.

"y/n, i think because you've been stuck at 7cm for the past two hours you go for a little walk around the ward, it doesn't have to be a long one but it could speed this up a bit and it also means you don't have to be stuck in this room" Mary, the new nurse said to you with a smile. she left you and Pedro alone and with that you both started walking around the maternity ward, hoping that this would finally speed up the process and will allow you both to finally meet your baby.

-

"that's it y/n you're doing absolutely amazing, keep that push" Pedro was holding your left leg and looking at his baby being born. you let go of the push and let your head fall back onto the pillow for a second just so you could catch your breath. "well done sweetheart" you heard Pedro say as you felt a small kiss on your forehead.

"and again y/n, push with this next contraction. well done" you heard Mary say as you pushed as hard as you could through the pain, groaning and the pain became almost unbearable. "that's it sweetheart, keep going" he was still holding your leg but was now by you, comforting you as you pushed. "okay stop pushing sweetie, that was amazing pushing y/n, i can see the head" Mary smiled and your heart swelled at the thought of your baby being here any second.

"okay, another contraction coming, give this one a big push y/n. this will probably be your last one" and as soon as that contraction came, your chin was to your chest as you pushed. you groaned as you felt your baby finally coming out. Pedro was now up again, wanting to see his baby come into the world. as soon as you heard that loud cry coming from your baby, instant tears started falling down both yours and Pedro's cheeks.

"you did it baby, i'm so proud of you" he said, tears rolling down his face as he kissed you passionately. "congratulations you two, it's a girl" Mary quickly put the baby on your chest and you looked down at this beautiful bundle of joy. Pedro thought he could never love anything more than he loved you, but as soon as he set eyes on his daughter his love for her grew, no words could describe how much he loved her.

"hi my angel, it's so nice to finally meet you" you whispered to her as you gently grabbed ahold of her tiny hand. she was beautiful. utterly perfect. Mary took your baby to the other side of the room where she would be weighed and would have all the regular checks any baby had, leaving you and Pedro alone. you moved over in the bed, allowing him to lay down next to you and as soon as he did he pulled you into his embrace.

"thank you" you heard him whisper as a few small kisses were planted on your forehead. he was grateful, grateful that you'd you went through this entire pregnancy and carried your baby, grateful that you'd chosen to do this with him and grateful that you'd grown your baby and now she was here with you both, where she belonged.

you looked up at him and saw that his tears hadn't stopped, they were still flowing freely down his flushed cheeks. you reached your hand up to wipe the tear streaks and smiled. "you don't have to thank me-" "no i do. you have done so much these past 9 months and i'm so grateful for that. i could have never done what you have and and i'm just really really lucky" he said, leaning down to kiss you again.

after a few short minutes of it being just the two of you, Mary brought over a wrapped up bundle of joy who was looking around the room with her dough eyes. "8 ibs and 6 Oz. she's really healthy. i'm going to leave you two alone for a while to give you time to adjust but just ring the buzzer if you need anything. again congratulations, she's absolutely beautiful" after she passed you your baby, you both said thank you and watched as she left the room.

"she's got so much hair" you whispered as you looked down at her, running your hand carefully over the top of her head. she was the most precious thing you'd ever seen. Pedro watched the two of you together, he had never in his left felt like this. he just felt pure love and adoration for the two of you. "she looks just like you baby, she's so beautiful" he kissed your forehead and let his hand stroke her cheek. this was love and he was so excited for the journey ahead.

[intheholler]

reading an article for a class (appalachian studies) and i kept being reminded of u

https://www.guernicamag.com/lost-in-a-misgendered-appalachia/

[positive] [with no foul intent] [its a good article]

i have read this article a few times since you sent it in and i still don't exactly know how to express my thoughts on it.

first: amen

second: yall literally have no idea how it makes me feel when you say somethin appalachian-related reminded yall of me. for real <3333

third: time to get long winded and sentimental, because i've never considered it this way, but it's so true. when i think of appalachia, i dont think about lifted trucks and gun shows.

i think about my badass grandma who was a fiery divorced, sex-positive, weed smoking, unapologetic feminist in her day and who didn't take no shit from no mountain men.

i think about my gospel loving, soft spoken mama who loudly loved jesus, a woman anyone would write off as an average "southern christian white lady" on the surface. how she didn't bat an eye when i nervously told her i was gay as a preteen. i think about how she hugged me and told me how much she loved me, how not everyone was gonna be nice about it or understand but that i was going to be safe and it was gonna be okay. how when i was a kid she stood up to that fire n brimstone southern baptist preacher and got us the fuck out of there.

i think about one of my best friends in high school, a visibly queer butch lesbian in our tiny bible beating western NC town. how fucking brave and cool she was for being one of maybe three "out" queers at school and so visibly queer at that. i think about how she got married to a pretty girl last year in that same town.

i think about two of my close friends who had to grow up so heartbreakingly fast, a pair of sisters who were at the time so young but selflessly spent their free time caring for their terminally ill mother by themselves up in their lonely holler without ever lodging a complaint

i think about my sister who dropped everything to raise me when she was only 23, breaking her back and making shit work because no one else was gonna make it work for us. i think about how one of my great aunts literally cleaned out her bedroom to furnish mine when she learned i was sleepin on a shitty couch in a cold basement.

i think about my other great aunt who apologizes for absolutely no part of who she was and holds fast to her beliefs no matter what. i think about her filling her house with the warm smell of soup beans and biscuits that were gonna feed the whole family when they come later.

when i think about appalachia, i think about the women in my life. appalachia is divine and it is absolutely divinely feminine. it's the heart of these hills and patriarchy taints it like it does everything fuckin else.

as an aside, i really loved this section here. it was kind of empowering:

Despite our region’s diversity and passionate socialist and pro-union roots, many have bought into the capitalist terms and definitions inflicted upon us. The religiosity of the place exacerbates this messaging, and the prevalence of evangelical Christianity in rural hollers means we often internalize toxic ideas about ourselves. Or perhaps we have simply tired of fighting to be seen. The pressure of religious and economic patriarchy, particularly in an exploited region like this one, means we live inside a perpetually loaded question. Nothing is more exhausting than trying to prove you exist. But the consequences of surrendering are stark: worsening wealth gaps, lost histories, continued erasures of diverse people and ecosystems. To live in Appalachia nowadays is to live with our failure to break down systemic racism, and with our complicity in the abuse of our bodies, labor, and land by unregulated corporations and himbo charlatans.

whew, okay. anyway, thanks for sending this in <33 it really made me think. yall should check it out. it's a long read but its worth every syllable!

[greenlightbulbonawire]

Misfits (yeah like the Arcane song)

XLV.

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Summary: From the dark musty cell of Stillwater all the way to the very base of Firelights, but where to from there? Guess you'll just have to let fate lead you.

Author's note: Here's another chapter for yall, Also, props to anyone who actually made it to this chapter and waits for me to post more. It's still crazy to me that actuall people are reading my work T-T. Love you and hope you have a good day!! (also i didnt proof read this so if theres any spelling mistakes and shi lmk and im sorry in advance lol)

previous chapter: Fourty fourth chapter

next chapter: Fourty sixth chapter

Masterlist

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Your eyes peeled open as the dawn of the day came, at first you were slightly confused as to where you were and then you remembered. You looked around, taking in Ekko’s empty room when something wriggled behind you. The boy's hands were snug around your waist and you felt his forehead against your back. Red slowly found its way onto your cheeks again and you could only hope that he was still asleep and wouldn't wake up as you carefully detached his arms from your body. You quietly got up and picked up your hoverboard, the first sun rays of the day started seeping into his room through a small window on the sleeping boy's door. It creaked as you opened it and you froze up, turning your head to look at his unconscious body, but he stayed asleep.

When you finally left his room and silently walked to the edge of his balcony, you swung your legs over it and started up your device, hopping on it and flying towards the entrance to the hideout. You had a certain destination in mind, but before you could go there, you had to go buy something, oh right, money, okay, let's head back to your room and take it maybe, that’d be great. Changing into your usual working outfit wasn’t in the question right now, as it was dirtied up from the junkyard, so even your beloved cloak was unusable at that moment. You grabbed the money and the dirty clothes, stopping by a washing room before you left. The cold stone pressed against your body was enough to fully wake you up and you pushed at it with all your might, until finally it gave in and moved away, creating a small gap for you to slip through into the sewer system, surrounding the Firelights’ hideout.

THe low hum coming off the machine and its weak neon green glow filled the empty tunnels while you took a familiar route. You shot up through a grate hole, its cover kicked away by you some time ago and laying a few paces away. The device shot up as you hopped off and fell into your arms, you had to carry it this time, your cloak being left in the washing room, but compared to the metal piece from yesterday, it was nothing. You left the little dead alleyway and walked into a bigger, more alive street, searching for a food stand. It took a little while but you finally spotted one and quickly made your way over. A smile painted your lips as you spotted a wooden box full of a particularly sweet fruit. You reached into the box to pull out one, but your hand was slapped away by an older man with orange curly hair.

“You want something, you pay for it.” The man stated and folded his arms, giving you a skeptical look, and then a familiar voice echoed from the back of the stand. “A customer?” “Felix?” “[Reader]? Oh it is you! Hi!” The boy came forward and turned to the older man and then he turned to you again. “I see you’ve met my dad.” He chuckled and shook his head, the older man sighed and retrieved into an opened door of the building the stand was built against while mumbling something to himself. “That’s your dad?” “Yeah man, don’t mind him, he’s just wary, that’s all.” “Oh no, it’s fine, I get it, but if you’ll forgive me, I’m in a little hurry, I just wanted to buy two of these.” You pointed to the box you were eyeing a few seconds ago. Felix nodded and reached over the counter of the stand, grabbing a pair of the fruit, throwing them into a paper bag and handing them to you. You paid for them and got on your way again.

It wasn’t long until you reached your desired destination, an empty street, filled with dust and remnants of past life, at night illuminated by a big billboard and its white light. You got greeted by a loud shriek and a dark smudge slamming into you, pushing you off your hoverboard and onto the ground as it licked your face with its split tongue. “Fae! Stop that!” Any attempts at fighting back were absolutely useless and all you could do was wait until your pet salamander was done with greeting you. Fae finally stepped off your body and ran in circles around you, making little happy sounds. “I know, I know, you missed me, I missed you too.” Your arm disappeared into the paper bag and pulled out the fruit, dangling it in the air until Fae noticed it. She stopped running around and tilted her head.

“Can you sit Fae?” You asked her and she sat down politely, wrapping her tail around her legs. “That’s a good girl! Come here!” The salamander broke into a little run and you threw the fruit in the air, she leaped and caught it with her mouth, letting out a murrow, seemingly pleased with herself. You sat down onto the ground and pulled out the second fruit, beginning to eat it as Fae slowly lied down next to you, as if you two were sharing a meal. She finished her piece in a few swift bites, obviously, she was like three times your size at the end of the day, and looked at you with puppy eyes, begging for more. You rolled your eyes and chuckled softly, taking one last bite and giving the rest to her.

[starseungs]

okay, if i were inside that damn fic or anyone in the fic istg minho is the real one for saying something about seungmin but ugh i also want to “get your shits together bitches or else” 🤺🤺🤺 i’m happy they are all good at the end 🥲 there were a lot of emotions like seungmin bro especially y/n kumukulo dugo ko sa inyo !! it ended happy so i’m happy, congrats for not turning this into angst 🙇🏻‍♀️

( take a shot. ksm )

REAL OMG MINHO IS THE BEST CHARACTER IN THIS NGL 😓 the way he actually keeps seungmin in check (sorry changbin but like the professionalism in minho shows more)

at the start of the story, minho's portrayed as if he's the one closest to seungmin in the industry, but as more gets revealed we see that he's not actually that much closer to him than y/n quickly became. minho joked around too, but he only ever dropped the professional speech whenever he was stressed, and seungmin never actually lets his guard down around him (also evident in minho's povs) still he tries to be a good pillar for seungmin since even though you wouldnt classify them as close friends, minho still cares a lot about seungmin. maybe with the development with y/n, also bringing changbin into the circle, he'd finally see seungmin in his natural state and become closer !! but thats for others to think about since its kinda an open ending

for y/n and seungmin, they clashed a lot in the beggining because i practically made them to be exact parallels of each other (even changbin and minho are), but as they communicate more it shows their similarities and how their differences can fill each others' gaps. theyre still immature af for doing all that in a high-profile film (sorry im a T in mbti) but i guess its reasonable enough especially in a place far away from home, tensions can run high and you could see a different side of you that you never wouldve considered in your natural habitat. another factor would be what theyve gone through from the academy up til the present in the industry. still i hope you see them as a couple with potential now that theyve sorted things out !!

i was never tempted to make this angst actually 🧍‍♀️ i was planning for it to be romcom, but when i wrote the outline and draft, it lacked substance so i tried it out with actual enemies to lovers and it clicked (tho in the teaser it was still considered rivals to lovers until the 4th scene when i re-evaluated their dynamic and changed my mind) either way this fic was going to have a happy ending whether yall liked it or not cause for a fic this long, if i was the reader i would love for my time to be repaid AHAHAHAHAHA unless yall are looking for smth to hurt that bad (i like writing angst but im not actually good at reading angst)

it was such a long drive to the end of this fic ngl (i think u alr know abt that) but i dont think i would do as well if i didnt take that three weeks. i refused to write whenever my brain didnt have a vision and had like five revisions of the scenes that followed every time i completed one ,,, i really am happy with how it came out tho since this is now my new child fic 🤧💓

well thats it !! thanks for coming to my fic talks <3

[dumfanting]

Questionable Conduct, ch 2

Chapter 1

AO3 Link

Rating: E, explicit, minors fuck off

Warnings: Jedi/trooper, (therefore) power dynamics, first times, casual sex, breast/nipple play, fingering (f receiving), oral sex (f receiving), cumming untouched, penetration, PiV, creampie

Notes: Fem reader, second person perspective, present tense

6917 words

(I know I said I’d post this three or four days ago, but 1- I wound up cutting a huge chunk out and then rewriting it twice, and 2- I’m helping my mom recover from a major surgery so she took precedence. I don’t often hype my own work, but this is good. And it better be for almost 7k words! DOGMA FUCKERS COME GET YALL JUICE)

F! Jedi reader/ Dogma

Dogma takes his turn with you, and despite a few speed bumps, the night ends perfectly.

“Tell me what to do,” Dogma says, an equally eager and hungry look in his eyes.

You look at him through your lashes and bite your lip, then prop yourself up on your elbows, moving your face inches from his. He closes the gap and your mouths clash. You snake your arms under his, hook your hands over his shoulders from behind, and pull him with you as you lie back down. Your tongues meet and the needy groan that comes from him fills your mouth. Your hips buck upward against his and he grinds down against you. This happens a few more times before you finally break apart.

“Okay,” you say, panting. “I’m nearly naked, what do you think comes next?”

Cautiously, Dogma hooks his thumbs into the elastic of your panties and starts to pull them off, but stops himself, looking between his hands and your face.

“Sorry. I-is this okay?” he asks, clearly nervous again. You stretch your neck and softly peck his cheek, smiling at him.

“I’m glad you asked,” you say. He starts to move his hands away from you, but you gently grip his wrists, holding them in place. “Do you think I’m okay with this?” you ask, taking on that patient tone again.

“Yes, I-I think so,” he says.

“But?” you prompt.

“But, um, I need to hear it from you directly first, right?” he says, his eyes searching yours.

“That’s right. You should always make sure, good job,” you say, and he makes a small but pleased sound after hearing your praise. “Ask me again,” you say, relaxing back to where you were moments ago.

“Are you okay with this?” he asks, lightly dragging his thumbs along the elastic again and sounding a little more sure of himself. You let his wrists go.

“Yes, I am,” you say before kissing him deeply, your hands coming up to hold either side of his head.

With your explicit permission granted, and still kissing you, he slides your panties downward off of your hips and over your knees before you kick them off. Now completely bare beneath him, you break the kiss and sit up against the headboard of your bed. He shifts back, watching you carefully and breathing heavily. You throw the sheets to the side and open your legs, leaving your wet cunt on full display for him, which is exactly what you wanted.

Dogma's eyes travel down your body, and when he sees your hot sex at last, his jaw drops. Maker, he’s so cute, you think, and can’t help but giggle.

“Do they all look like yours?” he asks, absolutely entranced. You explain that most human women have the same parts and structures, though they will all vary to some degree and feel different from person to person. You even go so far as to hold your labia open and point each part out, naming them. You save your clit for last to emphasize its importance, telling him about sensitivity and nerve endings.

All the while, Dogma is listening with rapt attention, as if going over a briefing before an important mission. You feel a sudden surge of affection for him when you realize how seriously he’s taking this. He meets your eyes for a brief moment before he shyly turns his head away. You softly say his name and ask if he’s alright.

“Yeah, sorry,” he says, looking at you again.

“What are you thinking?” you ask.

“Just wondering how I got this lucky,” he says. The expression of unguarded admiration you see on his face is unusual to you; you’ve never had a partner look at you like that before. Realizing this, you feel a fluttering sensation in your chest which startles you. That’s new.

Dogma looks like he’s going to say something else, but you lean forward and cut him off with a heated kiss. He breaks away first, breathing heavily.

“What was that for?” he asks, confused.

“Do I need a reason?” you ask in response. He regards you for a moment, then shrugs. He then scoots himself between your legs and gently pulls you toward him by the shoulders. He kisses you, but this one is different from the others before; it’s softer. Somehow, this seems much more intimate, and you feel the flutter in your chest again as it happens. He shifts himself and presses his forehead into yours, breathing you in.

“Thank you,” he says, his voice a soft murmur. “I really can’t put into words how much I appreciate this.”

Your heart races as you sense a wave of emotion from him, strong enough to make you physically shiver.

“You don’t have to tell me,” you say, matching his low volume. He sits back and studies your face, looking mildly confused. You take his hand and rest it upon your inner thigh. “Show me,” you whisper, settling his hand gently between your legs.

Dogma swallows loudly and looks at you like he can’t believe you’re real.

“Really? But, I don’t know-,” he says.

You interrupt when you lean forward and kiss him, mirroring his softness.

“Just do what feels right. I’ll stop you if I need to, okay?” you say.

“A-are you sure?” he asks, nervous.

“Please, Dogma,” you say, unknowingly fulfilling his earlier fantasy of you.

He realizes this and groans, turning his hand around to cup your heat. When he feels how wet you are, he breathes in sharply and his eyes widen. He mutters something under his breath, and you giggle before kissing him deeply. When you break apart, you lean forward enough to speak softly into his ear.

“That’s right baby. You did that to me,” you say, your voice husky. He curses under his breath and subtly moves his hand, the heel of his palm grazing your clit and making you gasp. He obviously notices so he does this a few more times, drawing higher breaths out of you with each pass. He slides his index finger along your slit, carefully exploring you. You shift your hips, opening yourself up further for him and making his finger slip against the entrance of your hot cunt. His breath hitches, and he tears his gaze away from his hand to your face, meeting your eyes.

“Can I-?” he whispers, freezing himself until you speak.

“Yes. Touch me,” you say, and he groans, then uses his free hand to hold the back of your head, crushing his lips against yours with a deep moan, the sound making your hips jerk forward.

As this happens, Dogma slips a finger inside you, and it’s your turn to moan. With this encouragement, he starts to slide around inside you, mapping your body out even further.

He’s clumsy, and you make a mental note to bring up keeping his nails short and filed afterward, but right now that doesn’t matter. With each soft gasp and twitch of your body, you can see him growing more comfortable and confident in what he’s doing, and his enthusiasm makes up for his inexperience. He twists his wrist and presses up into a specific spongy area, and you suddenly break away from him.

“Oh fuck,” you pant.

“Shit,” he says, freezing. “You okay?” he asks, and you feel the concern coming off of him.

“Y-yes, I’m fine,” you say, gasping. You grip his jaw, kiss him hard and say “do that again, and don’t stop.”

Dogma does as he’s told and when you cry out in pleasure he can’t help the low groan that escapes his throat.

Emboldened by the sounds you’re making for him, he slips his finger out, then adds another and thrusts them both in and out of you, being sure to focus on that soft spot. After about a minute of this, he angles his wrist again, sliding the heel of his palm against your clit for the second time, and you whimper.

“Good Maker baby, just like that, don’t stop,” you gasp, grinding yourself down onto his hand as a shiver of arousal creeps up your spine.

True to form, he obeys, and seconds later you feel your orgasm wash over you like a strong tide, making you cry out as you clamp yourself around his deft fingers. In an effort to stop you from getting too loud, he holds you tightly and kisses you, swallowing up all your moans and gasps to keep for himself. It doesn’t take long for you to quiet down, and he takes this as a sign to stop. He carefully slips his fingers out of you while you cling to him like a lifeline, gasping.

After a moment, your body relaxes and you slump down into a heap on your back, trying to fight dizziness as you catch your breath. Dogma lies over you, caging you beneath him with his forearms on either side of your head a second time, watching you carefully.

“That was good then?” he asks softly, and he’s so earnest that you can’t help but grin at him.

“Very good, honey, yes,” you say, sitting up enough to softly kiss him.

He smiles confidently at you for the first time ever, and it transforms him entirely; you almost don’t recognize him. His face is relaxed out of his usual neutral frown, and his typically narrowed eyes are opened wider, at ease. At this moment, he’s not thinking or worrying about anything, and he looks like a man without the weight of a war on his shoulders. You realize his guard is completely down, and that he’s trusting you with this vulnerability.

You feel the flutter again, slightly stronger, and barely hold back another shiver. In the furthest recesses of the back of your mind, a small voice that sounds too much like your Masters tells you that this could be a problem later.

Then I’ll deal with it later, you think, stubbornly ignoring the voice.

Dogma drags the finger that was just inside your pussy along your bottom lip. You don’t think he realizes this, so you decide to surprise him. You open your mouth, sliding your tongue over his still-wet fingers and sucking them clean, all the while never breaking eye contact. His jaw drops and he groans your name as you keep this up. Once you’re satisfied, you take him by the shoulders and pull him down even with you, kissing him deeply.

The moment your tongues meet, and Dogma gets that small taste of you, he pulls away from you and curses.

“Dank ferrik,” he pants, and you can tell he’s trying his best to not take you here and now. “You taste amazing, can I get more?”

You bite your lip and nod enthusiastically at him. He thanks you with another soulful kiss, and you spread your legs again for him. He shifts backward, but when he glances between your soaked cunt and your face, you notice the hesitation in his eyes. After a moment passes and he doesn’t move, you sit up and gesture for him to come closer to your upper half again, which he does.

“Talk to me honey. What’s holding you back?” you ask, taking on that patient tone as you softly cup his cheek. He relaxes into your touch, and after appearing to debate with himself, he eventually speaks.

“I- I want to, so badly, but I’m worried I’ll screw up,” he says.

“It’s alright baby, I know this is still new territory for you,” you say, understanding, before you softly kiss him.

“Please, what should I do?” he asks, almost begging, and you feel another strong wave of affection for him.

You gently hold the back of his head and pull him even with your bare breasts. Confused but compliant, he takes your right nipple between his lips and gently sucks at it, flicking his tongue over the hardened bud the same way he had earlier. You groan at the feeling, and he notices, gradually using more pressure and nipping at your tit. You whine and your hips twitch against him. With your hand still on the back of his head, you push him downward again past your waist. When you feel his hot breath on your throbbing clit, you meet his eyes and it looks like he understands.

“Here too?” he asks, whispering.

“Be mindful of your teeth and pressure, but god, yes, just like that,” you say, dragging your nails along his scalp.

He parts his lips, but hesitates again. You gently hold his chin and lift his face to better see him.

“You don’t have to,” you say. “Remember, when you say ‘stop’, everything stops. What happens from here is entirely up to you, Dogma,” you repeat, speaking firmly but not unkindly, the way you had before all of this began. You can see the want in his eyes and sense it pulsing out of him, but you still move your hands away from him entirely, signaling that he’s free to leave.

“I…” he says, stopping to swallow loudly. “I’ll just start slowly, if that’s okay?” he says.

“Whatever you’re comfortable with honey. Take your time,” you say.

Dogma shifts forward and kisses you with that same softness from earlier. You make a pleased humming sound and press your forehead into his, then you both stay like that for a moment, eyes closed, breathing each other in. Eventually he moves, murmuring a barely-audible ‘thank you’ before slipping back downward.

As he does, you reposition yourself, widening your legs a little more and laying back, looking up at the ceiling, correctly guessing that he won’t feel as pressured as he would if you were watching him. When you feel his breath on your skin again, you reach down and take one of his hands into your own, interlacing your fingers and giving him a reassuring squeeze. He shyly squeezes you back.

There’s a tense pause. You can hear him taking a deep breath. The next thing you know, his lips are on you, and you gasp.

Just as he had earlier with his fingers, he cautiously feels around you with his tongue, carefully exploring your body. After about a minute of this, he boldly licks a wide swath upwards along your pussy, barely grazing your clit as he goes. Your grip on his hand tightens and you whine. He slides his strong tongue between your lips and circles it around your entrance, lapping up as much of your wetness as he can. He moves his tongue between flicking the tip against your clit and tracing it around your opening. You squirm in an attempt to feel more of him on you and inside you. He wraps his lips around your aching clit and hums. You react by bucking your hips upward against his mouth and he responds by using his free hand to hold you in place.

When you try to move but can’t, he chuckles and you realize that he’s teasing you.

“Oh god,” you groan, desperate for his touch. He tugs at your hand and you reposition yourself so that you can see his face. The raw need that you find in his eyes and feel pouring out of him makes you shiver yet again.

“Say my name,” he says. “Beg for me, Commander.”

“Fucking touch me again, please Dogma,” you whine, giving in and begging, fulfilling another one of his fantasies. His hips jerk forward against the mattress.

“Sith hells, I love the way my name sounds coming from your mouth,” he says, breathing heavily. “Do you have any idea how fucking long I’ve wanted this?” he says.

Before you can respond, Dogma drops back between your legs and plunges his tongue into your cunt without hesitation, and you clap your hand over your mouth to hold back a loud cry. He dips in and out of you, and the sound of him slurping at your pussy is obscene.

He switches tactics, withdrawing his tongue and replacing it with his two fingers, instead focusing his mouth onto your clit as he fucks you with his hand. With a series of quick taps to the head of your clit, you feel yourself convulse, so close to another orgasm but not quite there yet. You realize that he’s edging you and whine.

“Oh, fuck, please, I’m so fucking close,” you say between gasps for air, nearly sobbing with need.

“You going to come for me Commander?” he says, shocking you with this sudden display of confidence.

“Yes! By the Maker Dogma, I am begging you to let me come,” you say, trying unsuccessfully to grind yourself down against his face.

“That’s my good girl,” he purrs, diving back into you again. His hips twitch and he takes your clit between his teeth, without using too much pressure, and sucks at the head, passing his tongue over it at the same time.

You clamp your hand down over your mouth again, desperately trying to muffle your loud moans. You remember that he’s still holding your hand and grip him white-knuckled, rocking yourself against his face.

He suddenly hums loudly around your pulsating clit and you come so hard that you squirt for the first time in your life, soaking Dogma's face and the bed below.

He drinks it up and groans into you, the vibration pushing you into overstimulation. Your entire body locks up and you quiver around him. Your hand flies from your mouth to the back of his head, and only when you scratch your nails along the back of his neck does he let up on you.

He shifts back, and you can feel him panting against your hot skin. As a finishing move, he locks eyes with you and licks a wide path along your pussy, flicking the end of your clit with the tip of his tongue just one more time and wrenching another orgasm out of you. As he does, he frees your hand and you quickly slap both over your mouth, barely muffling a loud scream as you come for a third time that night.

Panting and sweating, Dogma sits up and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, then quickly scoots towards you and lies at your side before unconsciously imitating what you had done with him earlier: He holds you tightly to his chest, tucking your head under his chin.

“Fuck, I went too far, didn’t I?” he says, his worry over you bringing him back to his senses.

It takes you a few attempts to speak, but you’re eventually able to manage it.

“No, no you didn’t. I could have stopped you, remember?” you say, still trying to catch your breath.

“Then why didn’t you?” he asks, moving to look you in the eye.

“Easy,” you pant. “I was enjoying it too much,” you say, chuckling.

He can’t think of anything to say, so he instead softly shakes his head at you and presses his forehead into yours. As you relax, you feel yourself melting into a fucked-out puddle between him and the mattress.

The two of you stay like that long enough for your body to stop spasming and your breathing to even back out.

As you relax, you stretch your legs and feel a wet spot that you know didn’t come from you. You sit up to investigate, supporting your weight with your arm. When you see your right calf resting in a puddle of cum, you realize what happened. Dogma sits up, wondering what you're doing, then sees what you found. You glance over at him, and you don’t need to be Sensitive to feel his embarrassment. Heat erupts across his cheeks, and he hides his face behind his hands while flopping down onto his back with a loud groan. You hold back a giggle with effort and lie back down beside him.

He mumbles something you can’t fully hear. You gently take hold of his wrists and pull his hands away from his face. He opens his mouth to say something, but before he gets the chance, you kiss him softly. Only pulling back once you feel him relax, you shake your head at him, just once.

“S-sorry, I, um,” he says, stumbling over his words and unable to look at you. “couldn’t stop it,” he says, his voice barely reaching your ears.

“Aw, baby,” you say, carefully holding his chin and turning him to face you. “It happens sometimes,” you say, then pause to think. “If it helps, you aren’t the only one here who’s done that,” you say. The relief you sense from him is so sudden and strong you can’t help but chuckle at him.

“And before you ask, no, I’m not telling you who, you guys talk enough shit as it is,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“Besides,” you continue, softening your voice and scooting even closer to him, “I’m flattered.” You two kiss, then settle back down and relax into each other again. Neither of you know how long you stay like that.

Eventually Dogma sits back up, pulling you upright with him. He settles his arms around your waist, and you link your hands behind his neck, pulling him closer and kissing him deeply. He backs away first, and when his eyes meet yours, you Sense that same intense emotion pouring out of him that you did earlier. You feel that odd fluttering sensation in your chest, but once more ignore it in favor of relishing the peace that’s settled over you both.

“S-so,” he eventually says, nervously keeping his voice down. “Um, what happens now?” he says, shifting back from you. You scoot forward and press your forehead against his.

“You can go back to your bunk,” you say, taking on that patient, understanding tone, and he visibly deflates.

“Or,” you continue. “You can stay here and see this night through. What do you want?” you ask. He swallows loudly.

“Um,” he says, then chuckles nervously. “I mean… What else is there?” he says. You lean back and regard him for a moment.

“Well, you haven’t fucked me yet,” you say, matter of factly with a smirk, and he groans.

“Good maker,” he says, speaking at a normal volume, “do you want me to?”

“I don’t want you to,” you say, but before the disappointment completely spreads across his face, you suddenly grab him by the shoulders, yank him towards you, and kiss him deeply. It’s so long before you two come back up for air that you’re both panting.

“I need you to,” you purr into his ear. Dogma wraps his arms around you and rolls you onto your back, kissing you feverishly the entire time.

“Fuck, say it again Commander,” he growls, nipping along your collarbone as he hover over you.

You grasp the sides of his head, move his face a breath away from yours, and say his name.

“Dogma,” you say, your voice dripping with lust. “I need you to fuck me,” you say, and he groans in your ear.

Appearing to move without being conscious of it, he nudges your legs apart with his knees, grasps his hard cock by the base, and teases you by dragging the head up and down your folds, pausing to rub it against your clit. You let out a needy whine and shift your hips in an attempt to take him in.

He continues this for a few seconds, then glances up and catches your eye, freezing. You grip his shoulders and kiss him, losing count of how many times you’ve done so tonight, and when you pull away, you smile at him.

“You made sure to check,” you say, though you’re barely holding yourself back. “That’s my good boy. Go ahead.”

He whimpers at your praise and his hips twitch forward while he tightly grips yours.

He carefully lines himself up and shifts forward with his knees, pushing himself inside of you far enough to bottom out, then he takes a moment to savor the amazing new feeling of your hot, wet cunt surrounding his cock. His face is turned upward, his eyes closed. His mouth is open in a soft ‘O’ and he’s already breathing heavily. Maker, he’s perfect, you think. You move one of your hands and hold it over his on your hip, then take the other and press gently into his chest, over his pounding heart.

When he meets your eyes and you see the pure, unguarded awe on his face, you feel another strong surge of affection for him. You stretch your torso upward enough to softly peck his lips.

“Will you fuck me, Dogma?” you ask in a whisper.

He slips his hips backward, almost pulling out of you entirely, then abruptly slams himself forward, hard, and hits you so deeply that you moan. With a low growl, he nips at your throat before kissing you, pulling himself back out.

“Yes Ma’am,” he says, then snaps his hips into yours, making you both cry out.

You lie back down and rest an arm behind your head, arching your back and drawing your legs closer together, tightening your grip on him. He curses under his breath before carefully moving back and forth a few more times. He looks down at you, and you can tell he wants to really let go and take you, but he’s hesitant to do so. You prop yourself up on an elbow and gently hold the back of his head, pulling him down closer to you. As you kiss him, he bucks his hips down into you, making you whine against his mouth. You lean back and he whispers your name.

“Please,” he says. “What else should I know?”

You kiss him again and quickly tell him that it’s difficult for you to come from just penetration, and in fact a lot of women are like this. Before he asks what he can do for you, you gently take his hand off your hip and position it over where your two bodies have connected, telling him to work your clit like he had before. Once more listening carefully, his face is serious as he takes it all in.

“Yes, ma’am. Anything else?” he asks.

“Oh there’s a hell of a lot more, though we aren’t going there any time soon. But, as a final note, try to ask where they want you to cum before you do. The safest bet is outside, if they don’t make it very clear to you,” you say, and he nods.

“That’s all you’ll need for now. Like before, you just do what comes naturally, and lI’ll stop you if I need to,” you continue. He lets out a nervous exhale before pressing his forehead into yours, murmuring yet another soft thank you.

“You’ve done so well for me tonight, my good boy,” you coo, and his hips involuntarily buck forward, thrusting his cock into you and making you both gasp. You prop yourself back up and kiss him passionately. He breaks away first.

“Please, Commander, I want you so badly, can I?” he says, almost desperate.

“I want to hear you actually say it,” you tease. He swallows loudly again, then takes a deep breath.

“Commander, I… I want to,” he says before pausing, and you can tell he’s working up the nerve. “Oh my god,” he says under his breath. He clears his throat.

“I want to fuck you, I need to feel what it’s like for you to come around my cock, please,” he says, making your heart beat even faster.

“There’s my good boy. Fuck me Dogma, I’m all yours,” you say, and no sooner had the words left your lips, he crashes his own into you, and the two of you exchange a deep, soulful kiss. He interlocks his fingers with yours, and you give him another reassuring squeeze. Before continuing in earnest, he shifts between having you lie back or sit up against the headboard, trying to find a position that feels right, pausing regularly to check in with you or ask what to do.

After you suggest something, he slips out of you and sits himself up against the headboard, swapping places with you. He crosses his legs, tucking his ankles under his knees, and watches you anxiously as you also start to move into place. Keeping your legs open, you straddle his lap and grip his shoulders for stability as you oh so slowly sink yourself onto his hard cock.

When he hilts into you completely, he whines your name, and it’s music to your ears. Straddling him, you link your hands behind his neck and your chests press together. You giggle, then speak softly in his ear.

“You know something? I love the way my name sounds on your lips too,” you purr, and Dogma curses, wrapping his arms around your upper body.

He hooks his hands onto your from behind, getting a good grip on you.

After he softly says your name again, all but begging you to move, you decide to stop teasing him.

You keep your hands on his shoulders and use him as leverage to lift yourself up. Once you feel his cock head at your entrance, you smirk at him and slam yourself back down. His jaw drops and he whines. Again, slowly bending your knees and using your thighs, you lift yourself almost completely off of him, only to quickly let yourself back down.

You eventually fall into a rhythm, and despite the ache in your knees and the burning in your thighs, you hold steady; The pants and gasps and moans you’re working out of Dogma are exactly the motivation you need to keep moving.

Just as your legs start to tremble from the effort, Dogma takes the lead. He switches his hands from your shoulders to your hips, spearing himself into you as he makes you bounce on his cock. His grip is tight, and you may be bruised afterward, but you don’t care. If anything, the thought of carrying his marks on your body turns you on even more.

As he fucks upwards into you, you cling to him for dear life, panting a mix of curses and praise into his ear, encouraging him to continue. After a particularly deep thrust, you clap a hand over your mouth, muffling the loud moan that escaped from you just in time.

Slowing, but not stopping, Dogma moves to kiss you, relishing in the novel sensations of your moans in his mouth. He breaks away and speaks.

“I want you on your back,” he says.

“Then put me there,” you respond with a smirk.

With that, still fucking you and holding your hips, he unfolds his legs, moves to his knees, and lays you on your back. His hand holds the back of your head until you relax into the mattress, then he slides it down your neck and upper chest before cupping one of your breasts. He watches, seemingly mesmerized by the way they bounce in time with the thrusting of his hips. You notice this, and so you stretch your arms upward over your head as you arch your back, exaggerating their motion.

He fucks into you harder in response, then slips his hand back down, moving from your tit to the point where your bodies meet. You watch him pause briefly, as if to remember something, before he clumsily jabs his thumb against your clit.

He’s using too much pressure though, and when he sees the discomfort on your face, he takes this as a sign to stop. As he meets your eyes, he quits moving entirely, bending at the waist to bring his face closer to yours.

“That was too much,” he says softly. “I’m sorry mesh’la.”

“Hey,” you respond, cupping his cheek yet again. “At least you noticed, and before I said anything at that,” you say, dragging your thumb along his cheekbone.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asks, genuinely worried.

The odd flutter happens again, but you’re able to ignore it, instead entirely focusing on Dogma.

“No, baby, you didn’t. It just pinched a little,” you say. You can tell he’s about to apologize again, so you stop him from doing so by holding the other side of his face and kissing him feverishly.

“You don’t have to apologize honey, you’re still learning. I don’t expect you to be perfect from the get go, okay?” you say, assuaging his concern. He simply nods at you.

You relax again and grind your hips against his, giving him the okay to continue, but he only moves after you nod at him.

You aren’t sure if it’s because he’s now being cautious about hurting you, or if he’s finally running out of energy, but you notice that he’s more careful with you this time. The strokes of his hips are evenly measured, softer, and so much more sensual than before.

He steadily moves faster, but doesn’t resume the pace he had set before stopping. You can’t remember the last time someone was this gentle with you; it was refreshing.

As he finds his rhythm again, you drag your arms back down, bent at the elbow, even with your sides. You intend to wrap them around his back and hold him close, but he stops you by taking one of your hands into his, once more interlacing your fingers together. He uses his other hand to brush a few stray hairs out of your face, then leans further downward to kiss you again.

You hum into him, and use your free hand to hold the back of his neck and keep him at your level. You start to raise your hips to meet his thrusts, and he switches tactics, focusing on depth now, and it’s working.

You moan into him as he plunges himself further into your hot cunt, and in response, he slips his thumb back down to your clit. Watching your face, he gently rubs around it, gradually pressing against it. Your breath hitches and you curse.

“Yes baby, just like that, don’t stop,” you whine, and he continues to rub tight circles around the head while still penetrating you.

You feel a familiar tension start to develop just above your pelvis, and squeeze his hand as you gasp his name.

“Oh, fuck, Dogma, don’t stop, I’m so fucking close now,” you say, your voice high and your tone desperate. He crushes his lips against yours.

“Good,” he says, then picks up speed while still hitting you deeply, his grip on your hand growing stronger. “So am I.”

You feel the tension intensify, and once again raise your hips in time with his thrusts, this time without stopping. He groans and fucks you harder, all the while keeping his thumb moving just right around your tender clit.

“Oh, fuck,” he suddenly half-shouts.

“You gonna cum for me baby?” you ask, your voice husky, and he whimpers.

“Oh fuck yes, where-?” he pants, and you decide to break one of your rules.

“Cum inside me Dogma,” you say, looking into his eyes. “I want you to fill me up.”

No sooner had the words left your lips, his muscles locked and you could feel his cock twitching inside you, painting your walls with his seed. He stays still, panting for a moment, before continuing to fuck you, matching his previous desperate efforts. Your surprise at this is almost immediately overshadowed by the tension in your belly finally snapping.

As you come, Dogma cups the back of your head while kissing you. You pull away with a curse when your legs lock into place, quivering as your pussy milks any remaining cum out of him. He curses before pulling out.

He watches your legs relax again, and after they do, he can see his cum dripping out of you. He groans your name, and you decide to really make an impression on him. You flex your kegels and more of it flows out of you. Meanwhile, you watch his face, thinking again about how fucking cute he is.

You relax yourself completely, panting for breath. Dogma tears himself away from your leaking cunt, appears to think for a moment, then gets to his feet and goes into the refresher on shaky legs. You barely notice this, so you’re mildly startled when you suddenly feel a warm, wet rag wiping you clean. You prop yourself up on your elbows and he awkwardly sits back from you.

“Sorry, should I not-?” he says, but you notice that he doesn’t sound as anxious this time.

“I’m just surprised you thought to do that,” you admit, grunting as you move into a sitting position.

“Y-yeah, I um, overheard one of the guys say something about it a long time ago,” he says, casually dropping the soiled rag onto the floor. He grabs a thick towel you didn’t notice before and spreads it over the wet spots on the mattress, covering it up so you both won’t feel it.

You lie back down, opening your arms for him, and he eagerly joins you. You turn onto your side and slip your arms under his, holding him close. Dogma does the same, settling his arms around your waist and burying his face into your chest.

Not wanting to move again, you raise a hand and use the Force to pull the covers back up over the two of you. Dogma yawns and shifts himself, stilling when his head is roughly even with yours. You touch your foreheads together and he whispers yet another thank you. You softly shake your head at him.

“You don’t need to keep doing that, you know,” you say quietly.

“Maybe not but I want to,” he says. He’s quiet for a moment, then speaks again.

“I was being serious earlier, nobody has ever been as kind to me as you’ve been tonight,” he continues, rubbing his thumb against your skin.

“And I’m being serious now,” you say, lightly dragging your fingers along his scalp. “That’s terrible and unfair.”

“Well,” he says, “this makes up for it.” He smiles softly at you and you almost don’t recognize him again; it’s so unusual to see him with his guard down, let alone relaxed to this degree.

“Happy to help then,” you say, smiling back.

The chrono on the wall chimes, and you both turn your heads to look at it. He’s been here for almost two hours, and you both curse under your breath.

“Are you needed anywhere else?” you ask, turning back toward him.

“Not this late, no,” he says. You can see the conflict on his face, and ask what he’s thinking.

“I should go,” he says. He sits up, rests his elbows on his knees, and holds his head in his hands. You also sit up, and hold an arm around his shoulders. Your other hand gently pulls his away from his head.

“But…?” you ask, prompting him to continue.

“I,” he says, pausing to sigh. “I feel like I should stay with you.” he says, turning his head in your direction.

You smile softly at him and cup his cheek. He leans into your touch, closing his eyes and noticeably relaxing with a long exhale.

“Then stay,” you say. “Jesse and Hardcase know you’re here, remember? I’m sure they’ve told the others by now, they’ll cover for you.”

Dogma holds back a scoff, but you see the brief change in his expression.

“You seem so sure,” he says.

“I am sure, Dogma,” you say sternly, sitting back and crossing your arms. “Every last one of them has agreed to keep each other out of trouble when it comes to me. That’s a direct order from their Commander,” you continue.

Dogma startles you by laughing. It isn’t loud but he’s never laughed around you before.

“Good soldiers follow orders,” he says, shaking his head.

Something about that sentence unsettles you, but you brush it off.

“Alright then,” he continues. “Orders, ma’am?” he asks with a smirk. You playfully roll your eyes and jab his shoulder before falling onto your back with your arms above your head, returning to where you were a few minutes ago.

You notice him shamelessly watching the way the movement made your tits bounce and can’t help but shake them a little while you laugh at him. He realizes that he’s been caught, but instead of looking away, he smirks at you before quickly coming toward you and hovering over you on his hands and knees. He meets your eyes, and you can sense it again, whatever that strong emotion is.

Before you can ponder this any further, he surprises you by wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close and rolling the two of you over so that you’re on top of him. The startled sound that comes out of you is cut off when he stretches his neck and kisses you. You hum into him, content, before reluctantly pulling away. Your eyes meet and you hold back a shiver at the adoration and gratitude you see in him. You sigh and lightly trace your finger across his facial tattoo.

“Stay with me, Dogma,” you say softly.

“Is that an order?” he asks with a smirk.

“If you want it to be,” you say.

He makes a show of thinking about it, then pulls your face even with his. He kisses you yet again, and when you break apart, he smiles widely at you.

“Yes ma’am.”

Taglist: @kaminocasey @madameminor @jennamelinda12 @arctrooper69 @the-cantina

To be added to the tag list for this series, reply to this post.

Chapter 3

[seventeen362]

listen i get saying taylor is gay but you HAVE to remember Wildebro was the one who wrote it. it explains all of that. as a guy, i can confirm we usually do not understand women. i have a female friend who thinks constantly holding hands, touching all the time, and actual kissing is not romantic. taylor being straight made complete sense to me when i was reading, because i don’t have any real reference for her behavior.

No amount of askreddit posts or questions to friends are going to fill that knowledge gap. at least for me.

Idk this is going to be kind of a rant.

But after Taylor kisses rachel during the miasma, rachel is not good with that. In her own rachel way, of course, but she is still very unhappy about that turn of events.

How does this translate thematically? rachel is loyal, explicitly *like a dog is loyal to its owner*. so what is this thematically?

people have made arguments that there were plenty of other ways to do the fluid transfer, but how many of those would’ve actually worked?

It’s specifically fluid-to-fluid transfer. putting it on her skin would’ve been too slow, and with rachel being rachel, taylor putting a bug in her mouth or something might have actually accelerated rachel’s willingness to kill her, parasite or not.

what about with tattletale? thematically they’re kinda-siblings, kinda-parent/child, kinda-friends, kinda-a secret fourth thing. tattletale specifically treats taylor the way she does because her brother committed suicide and she doesn’t want to see that happen again.

i’m not sure about yall, but i don’t think lisa shares that kind of similarity with amy.

this has the same vibe as people digging a few inches deep into brian’s character, seeing “lol larping as 40yo” and ignoring the several feet left to dig there. There’s a lot to see here, and the narrative theming goes a lot beyond “lol larping as 40yo”. Okay, what does it say that brian had to be an actual supervillain to support the rest of that lifestyle? what does it mean in the context of him always having some part of his trigger immortalized? is his desire to be just Some Guy his compensating for the fear he felt? how does that relate to him lying to the group about his trigger? how does it thematically tie in with imp’s trigger happening to begin with?

and that’s just one example!!!

there’s so much more depth to this stuff than “lol larping as 40yo man” or “haha lesbians kiss”. don’t even get me started on how many more parallels there are between eden’s crash and annette’s that people just… miss. there’s so much to analyze there. i get that most of the worm fandom isn’t interested in actually engaging with the source material, but still. it irks me.

rant over

oh dear

[quillvine]

I posted 246 times in 2022

53 posts created (22%)

193 posts reblogged (78%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@quillvine

@blueeyesatnight

@youvebeenlivingfictional

@kittensmctavish

@brandyllyn

I tagged 139 of my posts in 2022

Only 43% of my posts had no tags

#quill is not in the house (queued) - 45 posts

#quill fic recs - 41 posts

#quill writes - 14 posts

#goncharov - 11 posts

#we love blue in this house - 10 posts

#we love brandy in this house - 5 posts

#timezone reblog - 4 posts

#eurovision - 4 posts

#we love tali in this house - 3 posts

#we love qvo in this house - 3 posts

Longest Tag: 107 characters

#the owner of possibly the most beatiful hands in cinema history. you like walking down hallways and talking

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Thank you so so so much for 600!!!

Today I just hit 600 followers and let me just say I am so grateful for every single one of you.

The facts that I hit 600 is mind-boggling. I hit 500 of February of last year, it hasn’t even been and a whole year since I hit my last milestone and now I’ve hit another one??!? I cannot comprehend that, you guys are literally the best.

I also basically went on an unplanned, unannounced hiatus. Before posting “Can You Feel My Love?” the last thing I wrote and posted was for my 2020 Halloween celebration and those were basically little blurbs. 

“Falling For You” was my last actual fic and it went up in September of 2020 it’s been more than a year since I wrote something of substance. The gap in activity was due to some big life events that happened to me in late 2020 and 2021 and I was so so scared that I had hit my peak as a writer all the way back then before all of my life stuff happened. 

I was sacred to get back into writing because I put so much pressure on myself to make my gap in content to justifiable and worth it. I felt that if I didn’t come back with 10K word fic that was just so beautiful and wonderful that my break wouldn’t have been ‘okay’ in the eyes of all of you guys.

But as I posted again you all proved me wrong. The response to “Can You Feel My Love?” has been so positive and it’s done a lot to soothe my writing anxiety. Quite frankly, after seeing your responses I feel a little silly for feeling the way I felt at all.

What I’m trying to say, if my long long ramblings are too much for you to comprehend, is thank you. I basically sat on my ass and cried and posted zero fics for more than a year and you guys still showed me so much love in the form of like, reblogs, asks, and being amazing friends.

I am so grateful for every single one of you and I have no idea how I will ever be able to repay you for all the love and joy every single one of you have brought to my life.

xoxo, quill

3 notes - Posted January 3, 2022

#4

not me remembering the 7 (8 if u count the bonus) angsty hotch storyline that i planed wayyyy back in july 

4 notes - Posted April 28, 2022

#3

tell me something good. i’ve a had a rough day today

5 notes - Posted June 1, 2022

#2

WHY WAS EVERYONE IN TOPGUN MAVERICK HOT

8 notes - Posted July 8, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

my lover is the sea

aaron hotchner x reader

a/n: so this is the first of what will (hopefully) be many installments of call of the ocean. i already have a second part knocking around in the ole google doc and i’m really excited to share everything with yall! please let me know if you spot any errors because full disclaimer this fic was started more than a year ago and has been very slowly pieced together with little bits of tape

masterlist | call of the ocean master list (coming soon)

__

It is the peak of summer when you first meet him. The sun feels impossibly hot for this time of year and it makes for an incredibly miserable trip to the market.

You normally wouldn’t even go into town when the sun is blazing its fury on the earth, but you have it on good authority that the cargo ship that just docked has a little something special for you.

When you get to the town center it is already filled with rowdy sailors elated to be on dry land, making the already crowded market even more cramped and your thin patience even thinner. But, if you weren’t jostled and elbowed to high hell and if the sun hadn’t made your skin sickly hot, you would be rather endeared by their eagerness.

Even though your days at sea are long behind you, you remember what it felt like a hot meal at a tavern for the first time in ages. You remember what it was like to have salt in your hair and what it was like to see deep blue everywhere you looked.

The thought of the ocean tugs at a familiar feeling in your chest, one that you should have buried down a long time ago.

You were never good at letting things go.

Shaking off your thoughts you finally start to push your way through the crowd and to your destination, a little stall right in the center of the market, yet tucked away protected by the hustle and bustle of the crowd.

A cheerful call catches your attention, it’s the stall’s owner, one Miss. Penelope Garcia. She motions you over with a wave of her hand, excitement clear on her face.

“Come, come! It came and just as you requested, and it looks beautiful,” her voice cuts through the crowd loud and clear and you push even harder through the crowded market to make your way to her.

It seems that Penelope’s excitement is too great for her to simply stand still and wait for you to make your way to her market stall and she meets you halfway moving through the crowd with an “excuse me, excuse me! Coming though, please sir move, I have to- ”

Her words are cut off with an ecstatic squeal when she finally reaches you and immediately takes your hand to pull you through the throngs of people. Navigating the crowd with the same ease as she did before she deposits you, safe and sound, in front of her market stall.

“Oh my darling it is so nice to see you again!”

“It’s nice to see you too Penny,” you tell her as she reaches for a little paper wrapped package.

“Here it is, all nice and snug just as you requested,” she says pushing your package to you, “I hope you don’t mind, I had a little peak. I just couldn’t help myself.”

You give her a warm smile and assure Penelope that it’s okay, her curiosity will always be her downfall.

Your fingers shake slightly as you move to unwrap the package. Whether it’s out of excitement or fear you don’t know, but the drumming in your chest only intensifies when you finally tear through the paper wrapping to reveal a thick book, worn with age.

The Morrowson’s Compendium of Earthly Creatures, the beautiful leather bound cover reads. Flipping through its worn pages you see that it’s inside is littered with colorful illustrations.

“Thank you Penny,” the words come out breathless, your voice soft with awe, “it’s exactly what I was looking for.”

She gives you a blindingly cheerful grin, “anything for you my lovely.”

The two of you say your goodbyes and you begin to make your way through the market to your next destination. As excited as you are to go home and turn through the gilded pages of your new book you still have some shopping to do.

Your mind is always on the book though, thoughts never drifting away from its worn cover and colorful illustrations as you look over vegetables for blemishes and examine cuts of meat.

Lost in your thoughts you end up running into a fair amount of people which in turn causes many angry exclamations to be thrown your way. You just mutter your apologies and scurry past them, desperate to finish up and go home.

As you finish up at the bakery and start to finally head back home you run into yet another person.

Only this time you’re not able to get away with a halfhearted mumbled apology. Your things spill to the ground, rolling every which way and you have to scurry to pick them up lest they get snatched up by an unsavory passerby.

It isn’t until you have brushed all the dirt off your clothes that you think to even check to make sure you have all your things. Your first instinct is to reach for the book that should be tucked snugly away into your basket-

See the full post

22 notes - Posted October 7, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

looking at her is kind of bittersweet. i wish i spent more time on here you know?

I still stand by My lover is the sea though, like read it pls if you haven't yet. I'm very very proud of her

[kevindayprotectionsquad]

The Foxes and their totally real horseback experience

Okay, so, I made this in the Kindle app notes on like my second or third reread of the Kings Men so bear with me, but here is how I think horseback riding went for the Foxes. This is also loosely based on my own experiences lol!  

Neil: The vacation was his idea, so he feels obligated to join when it is decided (suggested by Allison) to go horseback riding. He is actually super nervous go, both because of his injuries and because he’s never even seen a horse up close before. It helps to see the upperclassmen (and Nicky) so excited. He never even had a fish growing up, so he has no animal experience, and doesn’t understand how he is supposed to control a whole horse. On a good day, where he was feeling himself and not like a walking pin cushion, he would struggle with the concept of riding. Now he has to worry both about not hurting himself more AND control an animal that is much bigger than him. Luckily he gets a sweet, old gray horse that just follows the other horses, and doesn’t even need Neil. 

Andrew: Is. Absolutely. Terrified. Internally screaming the entire time, but will not admit it. He refuses to look like a wimp in front of everyone. When they are brushing the horses, he is holding the brush as far away from him as possible. The pinto pony swishes her tail and stomps at a fly, and it takes everything in Andrew to not jump out of his skin. Neil has to talk him into finishing brushing her. He makes sure Neil is on safe first before even worrying about getting on himself. He contemplates just walking away, but forces himself (with a pep talk from Neil) to get on the pony. He wants to be offended they gave him a tiny pony, but he is also grateful he doesn’t have to get on anything bigger. He has exactly zero trust in the pony. He spends the entire ride counting down until he can be done with the whole thing. 

Kevin: Poor Kevin also struggles with the concept of riding. It’s not like exy where he is in complete control of his racket and where he sends the ball. Horses think for themselves, so whats stopping them from killing all humans? He tries to tell himself this is just another sport, and that he can do it. He pays close attention to the instructions on how to get the horse to walk, how to steer, and how to stop. He starts to feel more confident... Until his horse starts walking. The bay mare is absolutely not going to hurt him, but she also isn’t going to let him just sit there. If he wants her to stop, he has to make her stop. He has the “I don’t want to hurt her” mentality, and she takes advantage of him. By the end of the ride, he has gotten the hang of it, and has decided he loves the mare. He secretly named her Athena. He thought it was fitting. 

Aaron: Also. Absolutely. Terrified. Just like Andrew. Does not trust his pinto pony. He thinks he’s too good for the whole thing, but he will be damned if he is going to be shown up by Neil and Andrew. He stays as far from the pony as possible. When he finally gets on, he realizes sitting there is not that bad, but as soon as the pony starts walking he goes into Panic Mode. It doesn’t help that the pony keeps getting left behind and speeding up to catch back up with the the others. Aaron is only happy when he is safely on the ground on his own two feet. 

Nicky: Is so excited. His favorite part is grooming his horse. He loves how soft the horses are. Especially their noses. He sneaks pictures of the twins brushing (being terrified) their ponies. He loves that the twins got matching ponies. When he is on, he really wants to gallop, but thinks trotting is too fast. Luckily his black gelding is the patient sort, and knows when Nicky is asking for more than he can handle, and takes good care of him. Nicky has an absolute blast. 

Matt and Dan: They feed off each others energy and have similar reactions to the horses. They are in awe and want to learn as much as they can about the horses. Dan asks a million questions and Matt is right next to her listening carefully. Matt doesn’t want help putting his saddle on and accidentally puts it on backwards. Luckily, the sorrel gelding forgives Matt when he gives him a cookie. Dan loves how bold her black mare is, but is a little nervous to get on. She gets over it quickly when she see Matt get on. He is immediately having fun, and Dan doesn’t want to miss out. Matt decides he wants a horse ranch when he retires. Dan lets him dream. 

Renee: This isn’t Renee’s first time around horses. She participated in a horse therapy program for at risk youth after escaping the gang, and actually really enjoyed it. It was similar to the trail ride operation.The gray mare she is assigned to loves her, and Renee loves her right back. No one is shocked. Everyone loves Renee, why wouldn’t animals love her as well. She happily chills in the back of the group, letting the mare pick her own pace. 

Allison: This is also not Allison’s first time around horses. Horseback riding is a rich person’s game. The social aspect, the fashion, the blatant flaunting of money. When she was younger, before exy, Allison rode competitively. She was an eventer, much to her parents dismay. They wanted her to be a hunter/jumper. Thats what all the other girls in the family’s circle of frends were doing. But Allison loved the thrill of going full speed on a cross country course, the adrenaline rush she got in a stadium jumping jump off, and loved all eyes being on her in the dressage ring. The hunter ring didn’t offer her any of that, and she gave it all up for exy. She doesn’t regret it. A trail ride with her teammates isn’t the same, but she gets quite the kick out of watching them all trying to figure the horses out. The trail guide gives her the difficult chestnut mare and Allison has to chuckle to herself. She always loved the sassy ones. Up until the trail ride, Allison had never shared her horse person side with her teammates, but she couldn’t help but show off a little. Seeing all their faces when she sends her borrowed horse over a fallen tree was priceless. 

[thenon-fictiondays]

ok i know I've never posted anything about this fandom before but i know there's a lot of confusion in the sabikui fandom about who the kid on the cover of volume 8 is and im doing some digging so lemme take yall on a JOURNEY (spoilers for LN obvs)

so I know a lot of people have been hoping that this kid is a Milo-Bisco Iovechild and pointing out stuff like the blue highlights in the kid's hair, and referencing sources saying they raise a child together. This post may come as a bit of a disappointment in some ways particular for the shippers but like....I promise that whatever you're imagining, this is gonna be a wild ride.

so I was looking at some stuff online and came across an article on some of the plot points from the novel according to some of the readers (meaning ofc that the info is only as accurate as the readers' interpretation and translation skills) that Bisco and Pawoo get married and have a kid. Presumably, this kid

given that she looks exactly like Bisco and her name is listed as Akaboshi Sugar. So I was just assuming that she's Bisco and Pawoo's kid and Milo helps Bisco raise her bc.....thats what makes the most sense?? So when the sources said 'Bisco and Milo's child' what they meant was the child that they raise together. BUT. I was talking to my friend about it bc she's the one who dragged me into this fandom, and she found a summary of the volume in jpn. Now, the summary states that Pawoo is pregnant.......but it also explicitly states that Milo delivers a baby. It doesnt just say that they HAVE a kid, it says that Milo gives birth. Cue me and my friend losing our minds.

but wait there's more!

after we're done freaking out in DMs Im going about my day but in my head is just wtf wtf Milo has a baby wtf and then 3 hours later it hits me

yeah, Im dumb. this makes 8000x more sense. (But like....the word the desc used is 出産 and I've never seen that used to describe someone else helping someone to deliver a baby.) My friend and I are debating, she thinks that the kid might belong to the other Akaboshi (sexy dreds lady pictured above), I think its Pawoo's and Bisco's and we got queerbaited hard. My friend does some more digging and finds a reddit thread with commenters saying it actually IS Milo's kid via some kinda mushroom magic. I'm like please god let this be true I want this to be true so bad. but at the same time.....this is still shounen and I'm 99.99% sure society hasnt advanced far enough to allow this level of queerness in shounen. At this point we're like, okay we gotta read the novel and find out wtf is going on. So my friend bought it online and I get to work reading (ok, skimming).

First thing of note: Pawoo is indeed pregnant with Bisco's child...and by child I mean mushroom half-god half-human. Don't ask me what this means or how it works.

Second thing of note: Milo asks Akutagawa for baby names (this actually has nothing to do with anything i just thought it was really cute jdhjsjk)

at this point im like ok cool whatever the mushroom magic probs refers to the apparently super-powered mushroom baby Pawoo is carrying. Except...

Third thing of note: Milo has apparently been experiencing morning sickness. Well, it's not explicitly called morning sickness, but he's been having the same pregnancy symptoms as Pawoo and hasn't been able to find a medical cause. He's also been hiding it from Bisco so as not to worry him. Supposedly, it's a side effect of being imbued by Bisco's life force??

Fourth thing of note: Eventually he's struck with intense stomach pains and yells that there's something in his stomach. At this point I was highkey skimming bc it was very late and I had a headache, but a few pages later a child has appeared.

so.........................................yeah I think Milo just gave birth to Bisco's child

I guess I'm spending my day off doing a closer reading to try to fill in some of these gaps, lmk if anyones interested in an update 😅

[officialbruciewayne]

ooc.

Okay so what I mean by this interpretation of Batman is that, whether he is right or wrong - which is a mighty big if - the ideological gamble that Bruce Wayne was taking when he created Batman is that Gotham can only be saved by restorative justice, not punitive justice.

The only way to heal his city is to save its soul, and the only way to do that is to give it a pathway out of its cycles of corruption, power brokerage and retribution.

Bruce focuses on corruption and filling open power vacuums, since he believes that suffering is fundamentally caused by corruption, whether that's through desperation or directly as a function of power misuse.

But that's not what we're talking about here.

Batman breaks the power blocks within the city, as well, but importantly functions as a stop gap on retribution.

Instead of a back and forth of desperation and vengeance, Batman - because he is not a person - insists on ending that cycle by dispensing justice that fundamentally preserves life and opens the door to restoration. It stops the cycle at the point of harm, whether that is retributive or initiative.

Essentially - he interrupts this process at both the point of Suffering and Retribution and puts people in praxis time-out.

There's flaws in his thinking - the Joker is a great example of a flaw!

The ideology makes a massive assumption that everyone can be reformed, it also assumes that only individuals are capable of ethics, and insists that people give up personal vengeance for the greater good, whether they want to or not. But this post isn't about whether Bruce's beliefs are correct, or flawed, or whatever.

It's about why it means he can't kill!

If Batman kills someone deliberately, if Batman commits murder, then the entire concept of restorative justice dies with it because Batman is no longer interrupting between suffering and retribution, he is dispensing retribution.

Worse, because Batman is an ideological symbol, this action can never be undone and is ethically duplicable. No killing, not even once.

The premise is that what begins in blood can only end in blood.

Therefore Batman cannot kill. He should not.

Conveniently, Bruce Wayne cannot kill.

What do I mean by that? Bluntly? He's a coward.

With more nuance, Bruce Wayne is fundamentally traumatized by the violence of taking life and his psyche cannot survive being its deliberate perpetrator. It can barely survive being its inadvertent cause.

To Bruce, murder is a horrific demonstration of entropy - an act that cannot be undone (at least without moral erosion), and therefore cannot be a solution. This trauma arises from witnessing the murder of Thomas and Martha Wayne, but also the murder of Joseph Chill, and intergenerational trauma as a Jewish man.

It is a unique evil to him.

If Bruce ever does kill he won't be the same person afterwards and the person he will be is- in his opinion -fundamentally a monster. The monster that came into existence, kneeling in his parent's blood, that howls for retribution, that screams for suffering.

That's the monster that Batman is fighting every night yall.

That's the point. That's why.

Bruce Wayne should not kill.

He won't be a person anymore if he does.

Anyways, that's just what this fucked up man thinks, what does he know.

ooc.

Batman cannot kill because he should not kill.

Bruce Wayne should not kill because he cannot kill.

[jean-does-not-have-a-horseface]

How about a Levi x reader where his baby kept asking for him when he was at work so the reader has to call him while he’s in his office and him and the baby have cute convos on FaceTime even though they can’t even talk yet

Oh woah I loved this so much anon, I hope you enjoy my sweetheart 😭👉🏻👈🏻 everyone thank you in advance for reading I love yall

Pairing: Levi/ Reader ft baby Kuchel

Tags: fluff, domestic, daddy Levi, drabblity drabble

Warnings: None it's just that Kuchel is the sweetest baby and Levi is a workaholic dad and he canonically loves rice okay?

Face time

Golden rays of light peaked through the gaps of the story curtain illuminating the otherwise dull, gray and overly cold office, basking the walls in mellow tangerine. The bubbling sound of the well known ringtone filled the room, lingering as it bounced form wall to wall, getting louder with each passing second.

With tired eyes, Levi took a good look around the room before picking up his slim device in his hands. His finger dragged the jade button of acceptance, his chest leaving out a heavy sigh as he finally let go of the round, metallic pen that rested between the digits of his right hand. His face lit up, pale skin shimmering under the pumpkin colored light, his cheeks puffing up with a fresh huff of air.

"Dadda!"

The high pitched voice caressed his ears softly as his eyes squinted in pure delight masking the stoic man's face with a rather rare expression. His obsidian orbs were glued to the screen, his finger coming to lightly stroke down upon the pixels that formed his daughters teeny chubby face.

"Hey Levi, are we bothering you?" You asked waving an enthusiastic hand at him.

"Oh" he paused "Not at all, I needed a break actually."

The little girl cheered on your lap, her significantly smaller fists quivering before her collarbones on pure happiness.

"She can't wait for you to get home." You announced and your daughter nodded vigorously. "She blurted something about beauty and the beast while I put on the songs earlier. Tell daddy baby!"

"Booetey dah dah beeat!"

The little baby spoke with half confused expression on her face as her grey eyes wobbled with want between you and Levi. A tiny miscellaneous smile appeared on her lips, her few sets of teeth peaking slightly through her cherry lips as a sound of laughter escaped her upon realisation of her actual words.

"Okay, Beauty and the Beast it is!"

"Are you going to watch all of it Kuchel?" You smiled at her, poking the tip of your finger in her squishy cheek.

"Ya" she spoke with a sly laugh.

Levi sighed, running a hand through his shaggy bangs as he watched whike you struggled with trying to softly take Kuchel's hands away from the phone. The baby whined slightly, her chubby hands coming to softly tap onto what Levi guessed were her little thighs. Instinctively Levi brought down the bar on top of his phone eager to check at the time.

7.30 pm.

The ravenette's head throbbed from all the paperwork he had supervised and signed during the day. His mind run to you as his eyes watched you sympathetically. His chest was burning at the thought of coming home to you, taking a hot bath and sinking into the comfortable couch that stood proudly in your living room. He was growing impatient as he thought about your hands on his nape, rubbing soothing circles on his sore skin as he held Kuchel on his lap while the TV played her favorite Disney princess movie.

Damn he wanted to come back home. He didn't want to be stuck here behind enormous piles of paperwork just to get a decent paying promotion.

His sore arm felt like a log as he moved the phone to another spot, the camera quickly catching another angle of his sharp face. Deciding to ignore it he felt his eyes squinting once again at the sight of his daughter's bubbly little speech.

"You're tired, aren't you baby?" You inquired, your lips pushing into a thin line.

Levi took his hands off of his forehead and tried to half chuckle at you, yet the exhausted look on your face prevented him from doing so. Kuchel couldn't seem to sit in one place as she chirped for him, screaming occasional father honorifics at him as she tried to grab the phone off of you. Secretly, Levi resented that you had to stay with Kuchel for most of the day while he was trying to get that promotion.

But more money meant that you could out her in a good daycare once you'd have to get back to work after your maternity leave expired. And Levi felt responsible to help as much as he could when it came to his family so long as he could enjoy cozy nights at home like the one that was currently inside his head.

Seeing that his tongue had grown dry despite the bittersweet saliva of hunger, Levi savored the mellow taste as he felt his stomach spread and buzz in protest to its emptiness. Hunger growled angrily at the fleshy walls of his digestive organ and seeing that it was past his usual dinner time, Levi clicked his tongue in annoyance.

"Do you need anything to eat?" Levi questioned, his eyebrow cocking slightly at you as he spoke. "I think I should just come home, I'm too tired for these shitty papers."

"Languageeee!"

Kuchel screamed as you smiled at her father. With a slight nod and the familiar look of assurance on your face you told Levi that he shouldn't have to bring any take out for you to eat, you could just cook and call it a day, but that man clashed his tongue to his pallette as soon as you uttered that, a somehow sly smirk formed over his face.

"I actually want to cook alone with you, you brats. Wait for me won't you?"

"Of course we will baby!"

Another couple of bubbling giggles echoed through the walls of his office, this time acting as the only warmer he could ever need as the sky turned into a soft mixture of azure and violet. You and Kuchel waved maniacally at him, sending him a thousand kisses through the screen before pressing the button to hung up.

Immediately, Levi pushed his chair back, his legs straightening as he stood half exhausted and half proud over his spot. Shoving away any trace of paperwork that was on his way, his mind run through all the recipes he was eager to try out tonight as his mouth almost drooled at the thought of all the rice he cook for the night.

Oh, perhaps you could make fried rice, he told himself, almost smiling at the thought, that seemed like a great idea.

Taglist: @sasageyowrites @nobody-knows-anymore @ackermans-freedom-inc @ladyofpandemonium @hawkssnugget @berrijam @callmepromise @levisbrat25 @melancholicmonologue

[flowerflamestars]

Hotter Take: If you think Rhysand and the IC are the good guys, you probably also think Dumbledore is cool and do not and will not acknowledge just how manipulative and shitty they are.

P.S: Azriel, hidden depths or just a slightly more insightful lapdog? Got into an argument when i said he probably doesn't have a personality

Correct and PERFECT TAKE. If you think they're fabulous you are also, 85% more likely to find Severus Snape noble and tragic.

AZRIEL!! Oh god, okay. I have three distinct thoughts on this:

1) He is...laughably without a personality. Like, I'm sorry, but S/JM has not effectively written a group dynamic that feels feasible/realistic/semi-allows everyone to be people since Queen of Shadows. Her books thrive on having a whole band of people together, but there is zero main character/side character balance.

Is part of that because he's The Scary Quiet One? yes, sure. No reason to be chatting up Feyre (who is a child!! god. B A B Y. I reread acomaf and I AM SEETHING but that is neither here nor there)? yeah probably.

which brings me to 2) Everything. Pretty much everything we (myself included, because writing him in Starlight was very fun) like about Az...isn't strictly canon.

It's canon-adjacent. We're filling the gaps because there is almost nothing but a sketched outline. And it works SO WELL- because Azriel, almost more than Rhysie himself, is a big sexy trope trap.

He's the Quiet One with the dry humor! the (we pretend) heart of gold! Longing! Service! Loyalty from the Shadows! He is a LITERAL CINDERELLA STORY. Darkly handsome but BLUSHING. Scarred gentle hands! Daddy issues!

It is right there for the taking.

3) it is right there for the taking and canon takes NONE OF IT.

Like. Azriel is almost better as a menacing background shadow because the second you interrogate...really, any part of his character, nothing makes sense. Nothing.

His story is predicated on pain, right? Horrible suffering until he could talk to darkness. Its almost like he can read minds. his gift is secrets. It is a journey of improbable survival.

But to get secrets out of people. He brutally tortures them??

Which, is made further redundant not just by his gifts...but the fact...that he serves not one, but two mind-readers???

Azriel is transparently traumatized by having been the one to find Morrigan dumped in Autumn, stripped and halfway to death. It fucked him up SO BAD- which makes complete and total sense considering that like...he comes from this brutal suffering, and this culture that not only wanted him dead, but his mother dead, one that we're given to understand (which we are NOT EVEN TOUCHING THE RACISM YET) seeks to harm women, and anyone different.

And then, instead of being someone safe for her, bonded by the fact that Az came for her, Az found her....Azriel spends five hundred years scaring her?

Azriel disobeys orders and sense to save Elain. We, without his POV, scrabble to dots to connect: Az, who will always come. Az, who cannot stand not to try. Who cannot handle the idea of her tortured, harmed-

And then canon give us his POV- and's like. She was mine. I'm going to duel her soul-bonded man and MURDER HIM?? Because i can do it better! I GET TO HURT HER.

What, and I cannot say this enough, the fuck.

Ignore all the potential, all the fanon, all the fun to be had: Azriel is a professional torturer with anger issues whose love interests are exclusively traumatized, vulnerable women.

(He is also. Incidentally. The most Illyrian-looking of the three Illyrian bros, and yes, this is so fucked up)

It's...not anything new. It's not even bad in an interesting way.

The peeks of possible personality get squashed, almost immediately, by the actual narrative! One jokey night drinking with Feyre because he is, you know, a person, does not cancel out that in THOUSANDS of pages he was so vague fans essentially...made up a whole man is shape.

And. I'm sorry, but even internally there's some hmm who is this character??? dissonance.

Mr. Trauma make me Weird About Women, sees emaciated, visibly hella bruised Nesta, and is like immediately: who hit you???

but then. When his 'brother' thinks its like...the funniest thing in the world that Nesta fell a height that left her IMMORTAL FAERY BODY still fucked up the next day...he doesn't care?

He's like hahaha Cas I'm here to make sure you keep it in your pants about the prisoner WINK WINK

but. One of the only clear character beats we HAVE about him is that Az is the renegade who will Free Every Woman in bondage. Morrigan, who probably has the most reason to have an unstinting opinion of Az, tells Feyre he was going to save her from SPRING

yall. I am not going to read the Az book, I'm sorry.

[joontier]

Subliminal in Scrubs | V2; report xii 

pairings: dr. jeon jungkook x female reader

chapter rating: PG-15 | genre: humor, workplace relationships

warnings: none to note

word count: 2.6k

g/n: jungkook is a brat wbk; also,,, hoseok here is supposedly as old as seokjin heh i had an internal debate whether or not i should include two other scenes but aslkdfjkasljfas but i ended up with this instead skjff hope yall enjoy!! 

[taglist]:  @nottodayjjk @ditttiii @zeharilisharaban @btsbunny07 @turquoiseandplaidinautumn @aamxxrii @codeinebelle @btsmakesmehappy @stargukkie @moonchild1

Subliminal in Scrubs (the records) |  navi. | m.list

The orientation went by like a breeze with Ms. Narae’s quick run throughs of Woocheon’s clinical processes and systems, training programs, hospital expectations, and the explanation of the rest of the map of the hospital you weren’t able to cover during your tour earlier. Before she wraps up, she retrieves your IDs from underneath the table and places them on top of the desk for everyone to get later.  She dismisses the orientation exactly ten minutes before twelve, requesting everyone to head straight to their department’s on-call room after the break.

Soomin, who you’ve recently discovered to have her own Youtube channel, takes out her phone and records a video. You watch from the side as Soomin does her thing, until she tries to call you all over and officially introduce you as good friends turned work colleagues to all her subscribers. 

You hadn’t really expected this whole vlogger thing from her, especially when Soomin was a bit reserved when you were first acquainted with each other, but then again, as your friendship grew, you realized that she had a bit of Chohee in her as well and you thought that’s what caused you to gravitate towards her naturally. 

“Anybody up for lunch?” Soomin asks, rubbing her hands together after she finishes her short recording and tucks her phone back in her pocket. “Yeah, I’m starving...” you murmur, placing a hand on your belly as you hear your stomach grumble its complaint. 

“I heard Woocheon is known to have the best hospital food in Korea. Ever.” Jungkook says, looking around. You’re starting to get skeptical about how Jungkook is lingering around Jimin...Or was it the other way around now? “Shall we?” With Jungkook’s undeniable proposition, Soomin briefly glances at your reluctant face, her own lips pursing with your reaction. “Fine,” you sigh. 

There’s no getting rid of Jungkook now. 

Woocheon’s cafeteria...does not look like a cafeteria at all. 

You weren’t expecting an...urban haven of some sort, a portion of the hospital that you had least envisioned to what seems to be the warmest part of Woocheon. The laminated flooring, faux wooden grain wall panels, along with the suspended lights from this wave-like uneven wooden ceiling - it was as picturesque as a spread on an interior design magazine. 

The interior could easily outrival any other kitchen in the city. “Are you sure this is not some hotel we just walked into?” Jimin questions as he marvels over the sleek urban design of the cafeteria. There’s even a café - which you recognize holds the same logo as Good Day café. You ought to confirm this with Jimin later. 

As you near the serving area, the unmistakable aroma of roast beef fills your senses, making you hungrier than you were just seconds before. “Please don’t tell me Woocheon is actually serving roast beef...” 

You practically salivate at the sight of the food in the counters, a lot of which you realized were influenced by western food culture. There were three different kinds of salad to choose from, baked potatoes, burgers, seafood stew, stir-fried meat, as well as the Korean classic side dishes that you’d never miss in a meal.  And, true to your trusty sense of smell, roast beef was at the end of the line up in all its roasted glory.  

“Yeap,” Soomin says as she turns to face you, “You have three options for the sauce too: mushroom gravy, pepper sauce, or truffle sauce,” Soomin replies matter-of-factly, pointing at the farther end of the food counter. 

“Oh I love this place already!” Exclaims Jimin who’s undecided between eating to his heart’s content and risking a stomachache on the first day of work, or sacrifice half of the dishes for a later time in your stay at Woocheon. Thankfully, Jimin decides on the former. 

“Make sure you have your IDs ready,” Jungkook announces as he joins the line after you. “You’ll have to tap it against this tiny device then they will automatically deduct the total amount of the food you got from your account.”  

Jimin’s face falls instantly at the realization. Jungkook claps the other man’s back, face crumpled as he keeps his laughter in. “Still love this place, Jimin-ssi? Don’t worry now, the three of us can pretend we didn’t hear anything at all.” 

With features forlorn, Soomin makes a hilarious attempt to appease Jimin’s disappointment by stating facts - “Jimin-ah. Hospital food isn’t free.” 

“Yeah. I realize that now,” Jimin replies, an ingenuine smile playing on his lips. 

“Cheer up though! Ms. Narae did mention faculty and staff get a five percent discount on all hospital services...just so happened that they included the cafeteria there as well.” 

Albeit reluctant about the price, Soomin manages to convince your entire group to try out the roast beef for once (and probably your last too. Figures.) “Oh, and by the way, there is one thing that’s free actually. It’s the drink of the day - free for all staff. One each, and available during lunch only.” 

Your eyes travel to the end of the counter straight away at Soomin’s reminder. Calculating the number of cartons left and the people left in the queue, you’re beyond pleased at the fact that you’ll be able to get a free 250ML carton of banana milk today, and also the last person to do so. 

Unfortunately for you, a staff member returns to the counter and retrieves a tetra pack, claiming it was for a senior doctor who forgot to claim the drink. Much to your dismay, a middle-aged man in a white coat was waving to the counter, with his other hand pointing to his tray to prove that he really wasn’t able to take any milk with him. You can’t hide the scowl that creeps on your face. 

Through your peripheral vision, you notice Jungkook closely monitoring the milk as well, the same look of disappointment evident on his face. Maybe losing the milk wasn’t that bad. After all, if you couldn’t one, Jungkook wouldn’t be able to score one either. 

While Jimin checks out his food, one of the kitchen staff suddenly retrieves another carton from the other side of the counter, mumbling about how it must’ve fallen over earlier. You were just about to grab it when the lady at the till calls you next, and you’re forced to move your tray sideward so she can calculate the total amount of your order.  

When you look up to grab your free drink, Jungkook reaches out at the same time and manages to snatch the milk quicker than you. “Hey!” Jungkook simply shrugs his shoulders at your indignant tone. “Sorry darling, finders keepers.” 

You stare at him in disbelief, until the lady calls for Jungkook next, a little too loud for your liking. Your eyeroll comes almost involuntarily, and you shake your head as you follow where Jimin and Soomin were headed to as they look for a seat. 

Jungkook arrives shortly after you do, so you immediately lose the chance to rant about your annoyance towards the latter. He decides to sit across you and you don’t have the chance to complain about it either when he sticks the straw in his milk while he smirks at you. 

What an actual kid. 

You promised yourself you won’t let him get to you, choosing inner peace over fighting with a brat. Besides, two can play at this game, and it’s going to take more than a small carton of milk for him to truly vex you, so you simply smile at him back, returning the favor (of course, while secretly wishing he might choke on his banana milk too).  

“Would you guys mind if I recorded a little bit?” Murmurs of agreement are heard across the table. “Alrightey then,” says Soomin, “This time, none of you boys will be able to escape the camera this time around.” Just as you’d expected, Jimin and Jungkook whine in chorus, vocally expressing their petulance towards Soomin’s ‘vloggering’. 

“Hey! For all you know, you two might even bring more subscribers when I put you two as my thumbnail!” 

“I’m shy…” Jimin argues as he poorly covers his face with his small ID, yet continues to peek through the small gap between the card and the lanyard. 

Soomin rolls her eyes at their childishness and records her food first, praising how surprisingly appetizing the hospital food is. She proceeds to pan the camera towards you as you say hi for the second time today. As Soomin moves onto Jimin, he instantly puts his ID down and waves at the camera sporting a cute smile. “Everyone, this is what ‘camera shy’ looks like nowadays.” 

On the other hand, Jungkook, shameless as ever, pretends to not pay any regard to the camera but he decides to chew on his food with much suave, jaw tightening with every bite of the beef. Soomin calls on Jungkook to say hi, to which he responds by introducing himself and punctuating his statement with a flirty wink. 

For some reason, you feel your stomach drop at the action, causing you to look away momentarily while Soomin instantaneously switches back to her front camera, “Okay, everyone, let’s just pretend these two weren’t flirting with the camera just now.” Soomin shakes her head at the two, deciding that was enough content about lunch at the hospital cafeteria. 

“Shame the camera couldn’t handle it,” Jimin says, pouting as he places a hand over his chest. 

“Maybe it was the lady behind the camera that couldn’t,” adds Jungkook who continues to wink, alternating both his eyes before making a weird face. 

“Okay Jeon. I think that’s enough winking for today.” 

Jungkook wouldn’t stop though and Soomin finally looks at you for help, “Diagnosis: winkitis, ophthalmologist recommends immediate enucleation.”

“Of course! How could I forget? A wink for this young lady over here too.” Jungkook turns to you now but you simply squint your eyes at him as you fake choking on thin air, “I think I might have lost my appetite altogether.” 

As the three of you head back to the locker rooms to retrieve your stuff before going to the surgery department, another hospital staff stops briefly on their way to greet Soomin. It’s the third time in ten minutes and you’re starting to think Soomin knows not just ‘someone’ from the hospital. Strangely enough, they all seemed like they came from different departments too. This particular person must be of high authority or someone really famous to have people greet her as often as this. 

When you round the corner, at the end of the corridor is a lady in formal attire, sporting the same ID as yours  and it’s Soomin who approaches this person this time. As she pulls the person aside, she urges the three of you to go ahead, telling you she’ll catch up in a moment, leaving you sandwiched between Jimin and Jungkook who tower over you easily. 

“Jimin, do you happen to know who it is exactly she knows here?” 

The blond shakes his head no. “She’s never mentioned anybody in particular...all I know too is that she knows somebody here.” 

“Some relatives perhaps? Maybe she’s a family member of a renowned doctor here?” 

“How about her Youtube channel? Maybe she’s famous then? How many followers does she have?” 

You quickly tap on Youtube on your phone with Jungkook’s prodding, looking up her channel on the app. “It says here she’s got quite the following actually... “ you tilt the screen for them to see, “six thousand followers…” 

“That can’t be it. The second one who greeted her was at least in his mid-fifties...Boomers couldn’t have possibly been following...what does she vlog about again? Um… a day in the life of a med student…” 

From behind you, you faintly hear a ‘goodbye’ and you clear your throat, alerting the two of Soomin’s return. “What were you guys going on about here?” 

Jungkook chuckles, smoothly making up an alibi as he takes your phone in his hands, “Hope you don’t mind us checking out your channel…” Surely enough, your screen was showing a video of Soomin studying for her finals. 

“As long as you subscribe, it’s fine with me.” She gives you all a thumbs up. “It’s been a while since I posted anything though...Maybe if we get to the on-call room early, maybe I could film a few shots too! Come on!”  Soomin hooks your arm in hers and drags you to the locker rooms, leaving the two boys standing there in the middle of the hallway.

You figure the four of you were the first interns to arrive, as most of the doctors lounging around were either in their scrubs or heading out for lunch. “Soomin,” Jungkook seemingly deep in thought, taps the girl’s shoulder. 

“Hmm?” 

“Remember when you bumped into me on the day of our graduation...you were with someone right? Um...Jung...Ho...I can’t quite remember his name…” 

“Oh you mean Jung Hoseok? He’s my cousin.” 

As Jungkook opens his mouth to reply, someone calls Soomin from the other side of the room. “Soomin! You’re here!” You spot the surgeons you’ve met during the hospital tour earlier this morning - Dr. Min Yoongi, Dr. Kim Seokjin, and Dr. Kim Namjoon. You all bow promptly as soon as they stand up. 

“I didn’t really have that much of a choice,” Soomin grumbles as she gets squished with each of the doctors’ hugs. “Come on! You’re saying that as if Woocheon isn’t any good at all!” 

The three of you stand awkwardly in the corner while Soomin and the other doctors mingle with each other. You nudge Jungkook’s elbow, “Hey what’s with Soomin’s cous--?” 

“Oh right! These are my friends - ________, Park Jimin, and Jeon Jungkook.  We’re all under your care now.” The three doctors call you over, extending their arms out for a handshake, “Ready to lose your social life?” Dr. Min asks, his bright tone contrasting his drift. 

“It’s an honor to meet you Dr. Min, Dr. Kim, and Dr. Kim.” You bow curtly. “Oh doctor? It's too much! Call us sunbae instead. Oppa is cool too when we’re not working.” Dr. Seokjin’s handshake lingers a little longer than usual and you feel your cheeks start to heat up. “Besides, I don’t know what I’m doing most of the time.” 

Yoongi visibly grimaces at Seokjin’s words, while Namjoon covers his face with his hands, mumbling, “Hyung.... For the love of god, please make sure the patients never ever hear that…” 

Namjoon’s reaction elicits laughter from the whole group, but someone’s laugh stands out above all and it’s coming from the other side of the door. Soomin seems to recognize the voice instantly. “He’s here!” 

“Soooommmiiiiiinnn!!!” A loud voice echoes throughout the room. He hugs Soomin briefly, and addresses the rest of you. “Wassup bros?” The newcomer gives each of the surgeons a dap in greeting then turns to greet you three. 

“The whole gang's here!” He says, rubbing his chin, “Let me guess...Jeon Jungkook, _________, and Park Jimin, right?” 

Eyes wide in surprise, you nod slowly. “Soomin here has told me all about you!” Soomin is behind the man, drawing a hand across her throat. “My name’s Jung Hoseok, by the way. Nice to finally meet you all.” 

“He’s the next chairman of the Woocheon Medical City,” Seokjin whispers as he winks in your direction. Hoseok elbows him in the ribs. “No I’m not.” 

“Ah yes. Correction. Not yet.” Seokjin mumbles, massaging his sides. You, Jimin, and Jungkook look at each other with knowing gazes. So that’s the ‘someone’ Soomin knows. 

Woocheon ought to be...interesting.

© joontier 2021

[writeblrfantasy]

excerpt from acogs: agathon

been a while since yall have seen acogs content, hm? this has to be one of my favorite pieces of it, certainly one of my favorite backstory pieces. i'm so endlessly proud of this part and i just. ahhhh. please enjoy nikolai's innocent childhood bisexual love <3

wc 2100

When Nikolai was ten, he met a boy.

He had brown skin and golden eyes, and the wonder in them could’ve only been matched by Nikolai’s own. His hair never seemed to lie smooth, no matter how much he pushed it down, contrary to Nikolai’s, which always stuck flat to his head and forced his tickly bangs into his eyes. It still does.

He carried the sun around with him, captured pieces of it in his eyes, infused its warmth into everything he touched. Nikolai heard the sun in his laugh, saw it reflected in his smile. In his confused, cagey, ten year old heart, he understood he was around something special.

Agathon, that was his name. Agathon. So smoothly it rolled off the tongue.

He and his family, all seven of them, arrived in Nikolai’s town with their canvas covered wagon, their camels—this was when Windcarpets were less trusted than they are now—and right into Nikolai’s heart. They came from a remote village on the Urkon-Cairic border, a family who made their living from weaving rugs and clothes.

Nikolai was interested in them the day he saw them, but he always thought they paled in comparison to Agathon. His parents were kind to Nikolai, always offered him honey cakes and tea when he visited, and Agathon’s siblings shared their toys. Agathon’s eldest sister taught him to play the lute.

But Agathon…oh, Agathon.

Agathon took to Nikolai immediately. His first words to him were, “You have spots on your face!” which Nikolai later understood to be the light smattering of freckles that appear across his nose in the summertime, put there by the sun.

He and Agathon spent their days talking about everything and nothing, as ten year olds did, racing each other through the long grass to the west of their desert town. Where the Pelia ended on the north side, at the edge of the village, they would drink and dip their feet and shriek when the water was too cold.

In the winter, on the rare days when the cold rains came and they all had to go inside, Nikolai would beg his mother to let him stay at Agathon’s house until she gave in. The two of them slept side by side under layers of fur that only got used once a year, for occasions like this.

Agathon’s father would read them stories by the fire. Nikolai’s house didn’t have a fireplace, and he was always fascinated by this one. Those were the soundest nights of sleep he ever had, his head nearly buried under fur with Agathon’s hair in his face, his father’s soft voice lulling him to sleep. Nikolai took to calling him Father for a while.

Nikolai rapidly felt himself falling into something he was too young to know. All he understood was that his chest seemed to be expanding every day, a little more, filled with a little more sunlight and warmth every time Agathon laughed at one of his jokes.

Nikolai didn’t ever want to say goodbye to him at the end of the day, he wanted to stay for dinner and stay in Agathon’s room, sleeping on the floor by the fireplace if it was too hot for the furs. They would stay up all night talking and waiting restlessly for morning to come, where they could wander farther than their parents knew and would’ve never let them go had they known.

His mother never invited Agathon to their house, but that was okay. Nikolai didn’t want her sourness, her constant scolding bringing darkness to the light in his chest. One touch of Agathon’s hand and he swore he could fly into the very sun that beat down on them every day.

Nikolai once pressed his lips to Agathon’s cheek on impulse, no self-restraint so young, and he remembers the swoop in his stomach before Agathon turned his head and smiled at him with all the warmth in the world. Nikolai didn’t know what it meant, but he knew enough to sigh in relief and accept it when Agathon grabbed his hand. They ran through the grass field together that day, instead of a race.

And then, like most things in his life, his mother ruined everything.

That’s not something he realized until he was much older and she was dead. Hell, even recently, thanks to Katya, he’s been examining her ghost differently. Agathon was the first in many, many incidents she stripped away his privacy, his privileges, down to the way he thought about himself and his desires. Everything became about pleasing her just enough to keep her off his back.

Nikolai had been working up the nerve to tell Agathon how he felt for a few months, because even then he knew that sort of thing wasn’t always met kindly, when his mother broke the news. They were moving, going north to the capital city Thiria, leaving the town he’d lived in his whole life. Agathon wasn’t coming with them.

It would take a year, his mother said, but she would establish herself and her ideas enough to get her son elected by the community as queen. Nikolai had never had a day of sword training in his life, he couldn’t be a king, a fighter, but he had a silver tongue. He would be a queen.

The clever system of choosing queens and kings in every Actium country puts a pressure on the person to be worthy of the throne. If they are both a good diplomat and a good fighter, they choose whichever label they like best. If they are neither, they should not be on the throne. How simple.

After he’d be elected, his mother would buy herself all the fine clothes and indulge in all the food and get all the attention she’d lacked in her lonely life. Nikolai was merely an instrument. Which is exactly what happened.

It’s an accident that as he grew up in the throne, he started to care about Urkon and the people who brought their problems to him every day. When he learned about the ticking time bomb in his front yard, the one that wouldn’t ever explode but always had a small chance, he breathed through it and went on.

He grinned and bore the knowledge, at eleven, twelve, thirteen, that Urkon was so much more than his little western village and Agathon’s old home. He dealt with farmers who needed a land dispute settled, ambassadors from the west and east and north, he had servants waiting on him, silk and velvet, stuffy city air.

He goggled at just how much his mother didn’t care, but how much effort she put into pretending.

He has risen from nothing, as they all do, to luxury and power, bringing with him an unconscious air of the inexplicable magic that stems from the Staarenclock. From the cerulean diadem that drips from his hair while he sprawls on his throne, to the shining black paint on his fingernails, to the jewelry that rests on his neck, he attracts, he seduces, disappoints.

He’s never tried, and until he was queen, he never noticed. When he did, it became a tool to sate his momentary desires, a temporary fix for his long term ache, a way of fooling people. No one believes a pretty queen is capable of anything.

Good.

Nikolai doesn’t remember much from after his mother’s bombshell announcement, which is partly good. It’s a lot of gaps in numbness and anger he can never get back, and she’s not around to fill in the details. He remembers holding back tears so many times with Agathon, not wanting to ruin their last precious weeks together.

Nikolai went kicking and screaming. He doesn’t want to know how he looked to the villagers, to Agathon’s family. He remembers the tears running down Agathon’s face, the gold fading at long last from his sunshine eyes. Nikolai’s mother was dragging him away, he was no longer close enough to touch him and shudder through the warmth seeping into his skin. Just the knowledge that he no longer could made him ache for it all the more.

Agathon was screaming for him, too. The pair of them must’ve been the most dramatic thing the townsfolk had ever seen, acting like they were dying. Nikolai remembers the agony on Agathon’s mother’s face, the effort it was taking her to hold her son back from running to Nikolai again. He broke free anyway, sprinting toward Nikolai and tripping over himself.

They were locked in each other’s arms for one last time, ugly crying into each other’s shoulders. “I love you,” Nikolai said, as he had seen Agathon’s parents tell each other while they cooked side by side, laughed, shoved each other playfully when bickering. He knew it meant something. He knew it meant everything.

His mother picked him up and carried him on her shoulder the rest of the way, but he watched Agathon mouth it back.

He only had a year with Agathon, but being ripped away from him was like reaching into his chest and pulling out an artery. He had never known pain like that. He told his mother over and over that first year when she was working her way up in Thiria that his heart wouldn’t stop hurting, he missed home, he wanted to go back.

Of course, he didn’t miss the town that much. Thiria was intimidating, but there was so much to do, always something to occupy him. The one thing he missed more than anything in the world was Agathon and his sunshine smile.

As a child, his feelings were so much rawer. He didn’t bother repressing them because he didn’t know how yet, and his mother wasn’t deep enough yet in her madness to teach him to.

Two years later, when he was queen with his mother the real queen behind him, while he tried and failed every day to buck off her hold, he met Saige.

He had forgotten and moved on from Agathon somewhat, of course. He learned from both his mother and practicality that he couldn’t spend all day crying in bed and begging to go back, threatening to steal a camel or a Windcarpet when he got truly desperate. Agathon wasn’t in his head every moment of every day, but he took one look at Saige and it all came back.

The day he met her, he had heard nothing about her but the king who had been put through hell and needed no one but her war of vengeance, and she heard nothing about him but the queen whose mother always seemed to be there.

The day he met Saige, he got his mother to leave them alone for a while. Looking into her brown eyes, her little smirk, her friendly smile, a little piece of his chest ached, but in a different way than it did for Agathon. Hers was the ache after a dislocated joint snapped back into place. Hers was the stretch in the morning, an ebbing headache, the ache of waiting for a healing wound to finally close over. Something that punched the breath out of you, but in a way that was right. Like it was supposed to happen.

The day he met her, he heard Agathon’s parents in her voice, bickering, shoving each other, watched her move and saw them bumping hips as they did the dishes together. He saw Agathon mouthing his final words to him when she spoke.

He’s never told her this, but Saige healed him. It only got better after that day. After stumbling, falling, she guided his feet and helped him find his footing. She did not replace Agathon, because that would be a disservice to both of them. Nikolai found space easily in his heart for her. It was as though she had just been waiting to move in to the space he had prepared for years.

He loves her. He would burn down the world for her, as he hopes she would do for him.

He doesn’t tell Kayani that, however. He skims over the depth of his feelings for Saige—he’s at peace with them, he has nothing to be ashamed of, and he’s pretty sure she knows, but it’s for them. Not Kayani, not anyone else. Not that.

When Nikolai’s done, Kayani is still watching with rapt attention, a bit of shock. He looks up at the moon and inhales. He didn’t realize he’d been rambling so long. Saige is still asleep, thankfully.

“Did you ever try to find him again?” Kayani asks.

“No. It was never the right time, even after her death.” He thinks of it, now. Trying. But the thought makes his chest ache, so he puts it away.

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