#ive got more posts i'll make tomorrow...

[arolesbianism]

I've been thinking abt new game+ friend quests and it's just me going ah yes and they have all these issues and talk abt these things and oh oops this is all accidental foreshadowing

[mingi-s-dimples]

Dear Diary... - San

~"Hi love hope you’re doing well✨ Ive read your San kitten fic and I enjoyed it 😀tremendously 🔥. Now If it’s ok with you (I couldn’t find it in your blog that if you’re ok with this kink or nah) to write [cnc+ dirty talk and corruption kink]with San?? And if not cnc anything that comes from authority figures of him. Pls plssss ignore this if it’s makes you uncomfortable ❤️🍓" ~ queen I haven't written cnc corruption kink in my life. I hope I got the idea, even the slightest 😞.

pairing: san x fem!reader

genre: 18+

summary: san read your little journal.. and that ends with you screaming his name.

wc: 5.6k

warnings: dom!san, big dick!san, he eats her out, dirty talk, some cnc + corruption kink (he kinda softly makes her submit to it when he reads her diary + he doesn't care that she's a virgin and he actually encourages it even more so i guess it works? i'm so sorry i never wrote corruption kink before i promise i'll do better 😞💖), she's a virgin, neck holding and softly choking, marking all over, mamhandling, vaginal sex, he doesn't fuck he pounds, multiple orgasms, she screams out his name duh, some crumb of aftercare, cockwarming, unprotected (she's supposedly on bc but booo use protection!), unedited might edit later, for sure forgot something, completely consensual (after he makes her submit to him!)

Author's Note: woahhhh I haven't wrote in a while ngl. Felt good to be back.. sorry for not posting 😞. Life updates: Had 3 exams and I almost failed one but upsies it's maths 💀, had a bf for 3 days cause he acted weird and he said I'm his everything and that he loves me and that he can't be without me and I was like brotha ew we've been tgt for 3 days... and he got offended and unfollowed me everywhere 💀 boys these days... (i sound like a 70yo granma). Anyways I hope I'll post way more these days! There are only two exams to go, one this Friday and one this Saturday (for tutoring!) so I'll disappear again until Saturday night 🧍‍♀️ but I'll post on Sunday ! everyone cheer pls. Love youuuuuu allll

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member in any way.

The rich scent of steak still lingered in the air, mingling with the faint remnants of laughter and conversation from earlier in the evening. Your small apartment felt quieter now, with only the faint hum of the fridge and the occasional clink of San’s beer bottle against the counter breaking the silence.

The others had left hours ago, leaving just you and him—like it so often did. You couldn’t even remember how it had started, the unspoken rule that San always stuck around longer than anyone else, as if this place belonged to him as much as it did to you.

“You’re really not going to let those dishes wait until tomorrow, are you?” he asked, leaning against the kitchen counter with a smirk. The casual authority in his tone was infuriatingly familiar, yet somehow impossible to ignore.

You glanced at him over your shoulder, rolling your eyes as you stacked the last plate. “And let me guess—you’re going to stand there, drinking your beer, and not help.”

“Exactly.” His grin widened, infuriating and so utterly *him.* “I’ve got my role down. Yours is to overachieve and keep pretending you don’t have OCD about cleaning up after people.”

“I do not—” you started, only to cut yourself off with a sigh. There was no winning with San.

Instead, you gave him a look, grabbed the last of the plates, and disappeared down the hall toward the bathroom. “Try not to break anything while I’m gone,” you called back over your shoulder.

“Don’t worry,” he drawled. “I’ll keep myself entertained.”

San watched you go, waiting until the sound of the bathroom door clicking shut echoed faintly down the hallway. Then his attention drifted lazily around the room.

Your apartment was familiar in a way that made it feel like a second home—organized chaos, with books, mismatched blankets, and stray notebooks scattered across every available surface. It was the kind of place that felt lived-in, every corner a reflection of your mind: half-stressed, half-dreaming.

It was a notebook on the coffee table that caught his eye.

It wasn’t hidden, exactly. Half-tucked under a glossy magazine, its leather cover gleamed faintly in the low light. The word *Private* was written neatly across the front in a handwriting he’d recognize anywhere—yours.

A slow grin spread across his face. “Private, huh?” he murmured, setting his beer down and reaching for the notebook.

He flipped it open, expecting to find the usual: to-do lists, random doodles, or the same kind of perfectly planned schedules you’d been making since grade school. But instead, his eyes landed on something else.

*Sometimes I wonder what it would feel like to lose control completely. To have someone take charge and make me do things I’d never admit I want. Things I’d never say out loud...*

San froze, his grin fading as his eyes skimmed over the words. The meaning hit him slowly, like a low-burning flame that spread heat through his chest and settled somewhere.. lower.

*...to be pinned down, held in place, unable to fight back but not really wanting to. To have someone whisper filthy things in my ear and tell me how much they love seeing me fall apart under their control...*

He swallowed hard, his grip on the notebook tightening as he kept reading. The words painted vivid pictures in his mind—images he’d never dared associate with you before, no matter how many times his teasing had drifted close to the edge.

But this was different. This wasn’t teasing. This was your handwriting, your fantasies laid bare on the pages in front of him.

And the worst—or maybe the best—part? He couldn’t stop reading.

The sound of the bathroom door opening snapped him out of it. He quickly snapped the notebook shut, placing it back on the coffee table just as you stepped into the room.

When your eyes landed on him, standing far too close to the coffee table, your expression immediately shifted. Suspicion flickered across your face, followed by alarm as you spotted the notebook.

“No,” you breathed, your voice almost a whisper. “San... Tell me you didn’t.”

He arched a brow, leaning casually against the arm of the couch as if nothing had happened. “Didn’t what?”

Your stomach twisted. “You didn’t read that, did you?”

He shrugged, the corner of his mouth curving into a smirk. “You left it out in plain sight, sweetheart. Hard not to be curious.”

“San!” Your voice rose in a mix of panic and mortification as you rushed over, snatching the notebook off the table. You clutched it to your chest, your cheeks burning so hot you could feel the heat spreading to your neck.

He watched you with infuriating calm, his dark eyes gleaming with something you couldn’t quite name. “Relax,” he said, his tone deceptively soothing. “It’s not like I read the whole thing.”

Your heart sank. “What... what did you read?”

San pushed off the couch and stepped closer, closing the space between you with deliberate ease. He stopped just inches away, towering over you in that way that always made you feel small—and not entirely in a bad way.

“Enough to know you’ve got some... interesting thoughts rattling around in that head of yours,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Care to explain?”

You shook your head, mortified. “No. Absolutely not. You shouldn’t have—”

“Shouldn’t have what?” he interrupted, his tone sharpening just slightly. “Picked it up? Read it? Or are you just embarrassed that I know now?”

You glared at him, though your resolve was already wavering. “This isn’t funny, San.”

His smirk faded, replaced by something darker, more serious. “Who said I’m joking?”

He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Maybe it’s time someone gave you what you’ve been asking for.”

The room felt too small, the air too thick. Your lips parted, but no sound came out. You couldn’t bring yourself to say the word, even though you knew you should.

San’s smirk returned, slow and deliberate.

“Mhm-” he murmured, his voice heavy with unspoken intent.

His gaze lingered on you, sharp and assessing, as if he could see through every feeble defense you were trying to put up. The notebook still clutched against your chest felt like a useless shield, doing nothing to block the heat of his presence or the weight of his words.

“Not going to tell me to stop?” he asked, the challenge clear in his tone. “Guess that means you don’t want me to.”

You swallowed hard, your heart hammering in your chest. “This is not funny, San,” you whispered, though even you could hear the lack of conviction in your voice.

“Funny? Not even a little.” He stepped closer, his eyes glinting with something darker. “But it is fascinating. You, scribbling all those dirty thoughts down like a good little secret-keeper, acting all innocent around me—who would’ve guessed?”

“Stop,” you said, the word trembling as it left your lips.

“Why?” His brow arched in amusement, though his voice remained low and intent. “Does it make you uncomfortable? Or is it hitting a little too close to home?”

Before you could answer—or even think of a response—he reached out, plucking the notebook from your hands with maddening ease.

“San!” you exclaimed, reaching for it, but he held it out of reach, his grin never faltering.

“Let’s see,” he said, flipping it open again as your heart dropped into your stomach. “Ah, here it is... *I want to be taken—rough, merciless, made to feel like I can’t get enough.*” He glanced at you, his smirk widening at the audible hitch in your breath. “Quite the vivid imagination you’ve got there, sweetheart.”

“Give it back!” you said, your voice cracking.

“Why?” He shifted the notebook to his other hand, holding it out of reach. “Are you scared because I know how badly you want this?”

Your knees felt weak as he stepped closer, invading your space with the kind of confidence that left you feeling unmoored.

“You’re such an ass,” you muttered, trying and failing to glare at him.

“Maybe,” he said with a shrug, his grin sharpening. “But at least I’m honest. You? Not so much.”

San’s free hand brushed against your jaw, his touch light but firm, sending a shiver down your spine.

“You’re blushing,” he observed, his voice teasing but softer. “Is it embarrassment? Ouu, is it.. something else?”

“San,” you said, his name coming out more like a plea than a protest.

“What?” he asked, tilting his head as his thumb traced along your jawline. “Can’t take the heat?”

You shook your head, but you didn’t pull away. You couldn’t.

He chuckled, low and satisfied. “Thought so.”

Without warning, his hand slid to the back of your neck, his grip firm as he pulled you closer. His other hand dropped the notebook onto the couch, freeing him to let his fingers trail down your arm, light enough to make you shiver.

“You know what I think?” he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky murmur.

You shook your head, your breath uneven.

“I think you’ve been waiting for someone to see past all that sweet, good-girl bullshit,” he continued, his thumb brushing along the line of your jaw, “and call you what you really are.”

Your heart slammed against your ribs, the words lodging in your throat. “San...”

His grip on your neck tightened slightly, enough to make you gasp. “What’s wrong? Don’t like hearing it? Or do you like it too much?”

The way your thighs pressed together didn’t escape his notice, and his grin sharpened.

“You’re easy to read,” he said softly, his voice thick with satisfaction. “You’ve been wanting this for a while, haven’t you?”

Your lips parted, a faint whimper escaping before you could stop it.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his fingers slipping lower to trace the curve of your waist. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Your breath hitched as his lips hovered near yours, the air between you crackling with tension. He didn’t kiss you, but the sheer proximity left you trembling.

“You can tell me to stop,” he said again, his voice rough but steady. “One word, sweetheart, and I’ll walk away.”

You opened your mouth, but the words wouldn’t come.

San’s grin returned, slower and more deliberate. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

His free hand skimmed the bare skin above your waistband, teasing and slow, and you felt your knees buckle slightly.

“You’ve been waiting for someone to push you,” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, “to see how far you’ll let them go. Haven’t you?”

You couldn’t answer, your breath coming in shallow gasps.

San leaned back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes searching yours. “Say the word,” he said quietly. “And I’ll stop.”

Your silence said everything, and his lips curved into a smirk.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, his voice low and full of promise.

His free hand skimmed the bare skin above your waistband, teasing and slow, and you felt your knees buckle slightly.

Before you could process his words, his hands were on you again—fast, firm, deliberate. His grip was steady as he lifted you effortlessly, as though you weighed nothing at all. A gasp escaped you, your hands instinctively clutching his shoulders, but the smirk never left his face.

“You wrote about this, didn’t you?” San teased, his voice dripping with amusement as he carried you across the room. “Right there in your little journal. I had no idea you had such... vivid thoughts.”

He dropped you on the bed. San stood at the edge of it, arms crossed, his dark eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and control. You were there, sprawled across the mattress, your chest heaving from the tension that hung heavy between you. The heat of your earlier argument still simmered in the air, but now the power had shifted entirely into his hands—and you both knew it.

“You’ve been quiet ever since,” San murmured, his voice low and mocking as he stepped closer, each movement slow and deliberate. “What’s the matter, sweetheart? Not so bold now that I know what’s been running through that pretty little head of yours?”

Your gaze darted away, heat creeping up your neck, but San wasn’t having it. He climbed onto the bed in one smooth motion, his weight sinking the mattress as he caged you beneath him. One hand pressed into the sheets beside your head, while the other traced the curve of your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

“Don’t even think about hiding from me now,” he said softly, the mockery in his tone laced with undeniable command. “Not after everything you wrote. Not after you left me to read between the lines of those fantasies you scribbled down so... shamelessly.”

Your breath hitched, and you pressed your thighs together instinctively, which only made his smirk widen.

“I have to admit,” he continued, leaning closer until his lips were brushing the shell of your ear, “I didn’t know you could be *this* filthy. Wanting to be manhandled? Thrown around? Tamed?” His breath was warm against your skin, his tone both teasing and heavy with promise. “Tell me, did you ever imagine I’d actually do it?”

“I-..” You shuddered beneath him, your fingers curling into the sheets as you struggled to form a response. But San was relentless, his hand trailing down to your throat, his grip firm but not restricting as he tilted your head up toward him.

“Don’t play dumb now,” he whispered, his gaze locking with yours. “You knew exactly what you were doing when you left that journal out. When you wrote about how badly you wanted someone to take control. To leave you breathless, shaking… *ruined.*”

You swallowed hard, the air between you thick with tension, and he chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through you.

“Admit it,” he murmured, his lips brushing your jawline, his hand still firm on your throat. “Admit that you’ve been waiting for me to push you like this. That you wanted me to see *every* word of it.”

“I—” your voice faltered, trembling under the weight of his intensity. “Mh..mhm” you were only able to mumble some word.

His fingers loosened just enough to stroke the column of your neck. “Good girl.”

He leaned back just slightly, enough to drink in the sight of you beneath him, flushed and trembling. His grin was wicked as he reached for your wrists, pinning them above your head with a grip that left no room for resistance.

“Now,” he murmured, lowering himself until his lips hovered mere inches from yours, “let’s see if you’re ready to live up to everything you wrote, sweetheart.”

Your head tilted back against the mattress, and the tension in the room thickened until it was nearly suffocating. The way San hovered above you, all sharp grins and teasing touches, had you trembling with anticipation. But as his words replayed in your mind, something inside you snapped.

“Fuck it,” you muttered, your voice shaky but certain. “You’ve already read it. You know exactly what I want.”

San’s brow arched, his smirk sharpening as he leaned in closer, his nose brushing yours. “Oh? And what’s that, sweetheart?”

You swallowed hard, your pulse hammering in your ears. “You. All of you. No teasing, no holding back.” Your voice softened, almost a whisper now. “Please.”

San let out a low chuckle, his dark gaze flickering with amusement and something darker—something primal. “You’re begging now?” he mused, his tone rich with satisfaction. “Didn’t think I’d get to hear that so soon.”

“I’m serious,” you said, your breath hitching as his thumb brushed your jawline. “No going back now. Just—just fuck me, San.”

His grin widened, and for a moment, he just stared at you, as though savoring the sight of you so vulnerable beneath him. Then, with deliberate ease, he sat back and tugged his shirt over his head in one swift motion, the fabric landing somewhere behind him.

You couldn’t help it; your eyes roamed over his toned chest, the sharp lines of muscle catching the dim light. Your breath caught, and he didn’t miss the way your eyes roamed.

“Like what you see?” he teased, his voice dripping with confidence as he reached for the hem of your shirt. He didn’t wait for an answer, peeling the fabric off your body just as effortlessly. His gaze swept over you, slow and deliberate, and you shivered under the intensity of it.

“Perfect,” he murmured, almost to himself, before his hands moved to your waistband. His fingers made quick work of the button and zipper, sliding your pants down your legs with maddening precision.

But then he stopped.

Stepping back, he straightened to his full height, his hands already moving to unbuckle his own belt. The metallic clink of it sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away as he worked.

He was slow—so agonizingly slow—pulling the leather free and tossing it aside before unbuttoning his pants. The sharp sound of his zipper being undone felt deafening in the charged silence, and the deliberate pace had your heart racing.

“Enjoying the show?” he asked, his voice smug as he slid the denim down his hips, revealing inch after inch of skin.

You didn’t answer, too captivated by the sight of him to form a coherent thought. Your gaze locked onto him, your chest rising and falling with shallow breaths, and you could feel the heat pooling low in your stomach as desire overtook every part of you.

“Thought so,” he murmured, stepping closer, his smirk never fading. “You just can’t get enough, can you?”

You shook your head, your lips parting slightly as you stared up at him with nothing but raw, unfiltered lust. “Not even close.”

His laugh was deep, rumbling, and utterly intoxicating. “Good,” he said simply, lowering himself back onto the bed, his body hovering over yours. “Because I’m just getting started.”

San crawled over you with the precision of a predator closing in on its prey, his movements slow and deliberate, his gaze locked onto yours. His weight pressed into the mattress, pinning you in place as he leaned in, his lips hovering over yours, teasing but not yet giving.

One of his hands wrapped firmly around your neck, the pressure just enough to remind you who was in control. The way his thumb brushed against the side of your throat made your breath hitch, a soft gasp escaping you as your body instinctively arched toward him.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “Already falling apart, and I haven’t even kissed you yet.”

His other hand was down around his cock, his movements slow, lazy, and unhurried as he stroked himself. The subtle motion made your mouth go dry, your gaze flickering downward for a split second before snapping back up to meet his. The heat in his eyes was unbearable, and yet you couldn’t look away, couldn’t stop the way your body responded to the tension crackling between you.

San smirked at your reaction, his thumb pressing slightly harder against your neck as he brought his lips closer, brushing them lightly against yours. It wasn’t a kiss—not really—but the sensation was enough to send a jolt of electricity straight through you.

Then, just as you started to lean up, desperate for more, the hand from his cock moved. Slowly, almost torturously, he trailed it from himself to your thigh. His fingers brushed against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine, before he hooked his hand under your leg and spread it out beneath him.

“Perfect,” he murmured, his voice a low rasp as his palm pressed against the inside of your knee, holding you open with deliberate ease. “Just like I imagined.”

You swallowed hard, your breath catching as he leaned in closer, his lips finally crashing against yours. The kiss was searing, hungry, and consuming, his hand still firm on your throat as he claimed you completely. Your mind was spinning, your body surrendering to the heat of him, to the way he dominated every inch of your senses.

His grip on your neck tightened slightly, grounding you as his thumb brushed along the curve of your jaw. The other hand remained on your leg, his thumb stroking lazy circles on your skin as he shifted his weight, pressing himself closer.

“You’re mine now,” he muttered against your lips, his voice rough and commanding. “No running, no hiding. I’m going to make sure you don’t forget it.”

Your only response was a soft whimper, your hands reaching for him, desperate to pull him closer. And San, ever the tease, chuckled low in his throat, his lips moving to your jaw as he whispered, “Good girl.”

As San’s lips devoured yours, leaving you breathless and pliant beneath him, a quiet confession slipped out before you could stop it.

“I’ve never done this before,” you whispered, your voice trembling and almost lost in the heat of the moment.

San stilled for just a second, his head tilting slightly as he looked down at you, processing your words. The smirk that crept onto his lips was slow and deliberate, a mix of surprise and amusement lighting up his dark eyes.

“You’re a virgin?” he asked, his tone low, curious, and laced with disbelief. “After everything you wrote in that journal?”

Your cheeks burned, and you couldn’t meet his gaze, but you nodded, swallowing hard. “I... I just—”

He didn’t let you finish. His grip on your neck remained firm as his free hand slid up your thigh again, spreading you out even further beneath him. “So what?” he murmured, leaning in close, his breath warm against your ear. “You think that changes anything?”

Your heart pounded as his lips brushed against the shell of your ear, his voice taking on a deeper, more commanding edge. “You want this, don’t you?”

You nodded quickly, unable to form words, and his smirk deepened.

“Good,” he said softly, almost mockingly. “Then I’ll make sure your first time is something you’ll *never* forget.”

He didn’t wait for a reply. His lips crashed against yours again, hungry and consuming, stealing the breath from your lungs. His kisses grew rougher, more possessive, as though he was claiming you in every sense of the word.

When he finally pulled away, your chest was heaving, your lips swollen, and he wasted no time. His mouth trailed down the curve of your jaw, leaving open-mouthed kisses that turned into light nips. His tongue soothed each bite, sending shivers down your spine as he moved lower, down the column of your throat.

“You’re mine now,” he murmured against your skin, his voice dark and dripping with authority. “You understand that, don’t you?”

“Y-yes,” you whispered, your voice trembling with both nervousness and desire.

His kisses continued, his teeth grazing over the soft curve of your collarbone before he bit down gently, just enough to make you gasp. The sharpness of it sent a jolt through your body, and you arched into him, your hands clutching at his shoulders.

“Such a good girl,” he muttered, the praise making your stomach flip as he moved lower. His lips and teeth marked a path down your body, every kiss, every bite leaving a faint bloom of heat behind. He was methodical, deliberate, as though he wanted to cover every inch of your skin.

When he reached your hips, his hands gripped your thighs, spreading them further apart as he settled himself between them. His lips ghosted over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, his breath warm and teasing.

“Right here,” he murmured, his voice dark with promise as his fingers gripped your leg firmly, keeping you pinned in place. “This is where you’re going to feel me the most. Where I’m going to leave my mark.”

You gasped softly, and before you could respond, his teeth sank into the tender skin of your inner thigh, hard enough to sting but not enough to hurt. The sensation was intoxicating, his tongue soothing the bite immediately after, and the combination left you trembling beneath him.

San pulled back slightly, his lips curving into a satisfied smirk as he looked up at you. “You’re already shaking,” he teased, his hands gripping your hips to hold you steady. “You’re going to fall apart for me, sweetheart. And you’re going to love every second of it.”

Your hands instinctively found their way to his hair, your fingers tangling in the soft strands as he hovered over your inner thighs, his breath ghosting over the sensitive skin. The way he teased you—his lips brushing so close but never where you wanted them—had your body trembling with anticipation.

San chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin as he tilted his head up to look at you. His smirk was infuriatingly smug, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement.

“Impatient, huh?” he drawled, his voice low and teasing as he gave your thigh a gentle squeeze. “Can’t wait to have me, can you?”

You whimpered softly, your grip on his hair tightening just enough to pull a satisfied laugh from him.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he murmured, his tone darkening as he settled himself between your legs. “I won’t make you wait any longer. Let’s see how loud I can make you.”

And with that, he dove in.

His lips pressed against your clit, hot and unrelenting, and a sharp gasp escaped your lips as your back arched off the mattress. The first touch of his tongue was slow and deliberate, a languid stroke that left you breathless.

San wasted no time after that, his mouth working against it with a precision that had your head spinning. His hands gripped your thighs, keeping you pinned in place as he devoured you, his tongue flicking and swirling in ways that sent shivers racing down your spine.

“You taste so good,” he murmured against you, his voice muffled but still thick with satisfaction. “Even better than I imagined.”

You couldn’t respond—not with the way he was overwhelming your senses, reducing you to gasps and whimpers as he found every sensitive spot. Your hands tightened in his hair, and he groaned at the pressure, the vibrations only adding to the fire building inside you.

San pulled back just enough to press a kiss against your inner thigh, his lips swollen and glistening. “Don’t hold back,” he murmured, his voice rough and commanding. “I want to hear everything. Every moan, every gasp—let me hear how much you need me.”

And then he was back, his mouth and tongue relentless as he brought you closer and closer to the edge, his grip on your thighs tightening as your body started to tremble beneath him. You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but surrender completely to the way he consumed you, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

Your body trembled beneath him, the overwhelming waves of pleasure crashing through you as you cried out his name, your hands still tangled in his hair. San didn’t stop until your body went slack against the mattress, leaving you breathless, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.

But he wasn’t done—not even close.

“Look at you,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to survey the sight of you sprawled beneath him, still shaking from the aftermath. His voice was low, rough, and dripping with satisfaction. “So pretty when you fall apart for me.”

Before you could respond, San moved with the kind of precision that left no room for resistance. His hands gripped your hips firmly, flipping you over onto your stomach in one fluid motion. A startled gasp escaped you, but it was quickly muffled as he pressed your face into the mattress, one hand splayed across the back of your neck, holding you in place.

“Don’t think we’re done yet,” he growled, his voice dark and commanding as he leaned over you. The heat of his bare chest against your back sent shivers down your spine, and you felt him press his hips into you, letting you feel just how ready he was.

Your heart raced as his free hand slid down your side, gripping your waist possessively. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “I hope you’re ready, sweetheart, because I’m not holding back… at all.”

His teeth grazed your earlobe, and you whimpered softly, your body arching instinctively beneath him. His voice dropped lower, the words sending a thrill through you as he murmured, “You’re mine now. Every inch of you. And I’m going to make sure you *feel* it.”

The blunt heat of him pressed against your cunt, and before you could even brace yourself, he pushed into you in one smooth, unrelenting motion. The stretch burned, but the pleasure quickly overwhelmed it, and you cried out, muffled against the mattress as he filled you completely.

San groaned low in his throat, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulled back slightly, only to slam back in with a force that made your entire body jolt. “Perfect,” he muttered, his voice rough and thick with lust as he set a relentless pace. “You feel even better than I imagined.”

The sound of skin against skin filled the room, each thrust drawing gasps and moans from you that only seemed to spur him on. He leaned over you, pressing his chest to your back as he buried himself deeper, his lips brushing against your ear.

“Take it,” he growled, his voice dripping with authority. “Every. Fucking. Inch.”

Your head spun, your senses overwhelmed by the rough, unyielding way he moved against you. His hand slid from your hip to your throat, pulling you up slightly so he could press his lips to your shoulder, his teeth sinking into your skin to leave yet another mark.

“You’re mine,” he muttered again, his voice ragged as his thrusts grew even harder, each one sending shockwaves through your body. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

“I-I'm yours..! ,” you gasped, your voice trembling as you clung to the sheets, completely lost in him.

“Good girl.. or should I say..” he murmured, his grip tightening as he drove you both closer and closer to the edge, his pace never faltering, never giving you a moment to catch your breath, “good slut?”.

His words made your cunt tighten around him, a grunt escaping his throat.

San’s pace didn’t let up for a moment, his grip firm on your waist as he powerfully ounded into you, every thrust driving you closer to another earth-shattering release. Your body trembled beneath him, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all, and he could feel the way you tightened around him, your breaths coming in ragged gasps.

“That’s it,” he growled against your ear, his voice rough and commanding as he reached one hand between your legs, his fingers finding the spot that made you jolt… your swollen clit. “Give me one more, sweetheart. Come for me again. Let me feel you.”

The combination of his relentless thrusts and the way his fingers worked you had you teetering on the edge in seconds. Your cries grew louder, the tension coiling in your stomach until it finally snapped, a powerful wave of pleasure crashing through you as you screamed his name.

“San!” you sobbed, your body shaking violently as your orgasm ripped through you, leaving you breathless and trembling beneath him.

He groaned low in his throat, his thrusts growing erratic as he chased his own. “That’s my girl,” he muttered, his grip tightening as he buried himself deep inside you, his hips stuttering as he reached his peak.

A guttural moan escaped his lips as he spilled into you, the warmth of his cum filling you completely. He didn’t pull out right away, instead leaning over you, his chest pressing against your back as he kissed your shoulder, his breath hot and uneven.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your damp skin. “You took me so well, sweetheart. Screaming my name like that... you’re so fucking perfect.”

You whimpered softly, still trembling from the aftershocks, and he smirked, his voice dropping to a darker, dirtier tone. “Bet you loved having me ruin you like this. Didn’t you, baby? All that talk about wanting to be manhandled—looks like you got exactly what you wanted.”

Before you could respond, his hand slid to your neck, gripping you firmly as he pulled you upright, your back pressing against his chest. The move made you gasp, your head falling back against his shoulder as he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze, his cock still deep inside you.

“That’s what you get for leaving your little journal unattended,” he growled, his smirk sharp and satisfied as he stared into your eyes. “I bet you loved every fucking second of it. Didn’t you?”

Your lips trembled, but you managed a breathless, “Y-yes… y-es I did..”

San’s grin widened, and he leaned in to press a lingering kiss to your temple, his grip on your neck softening as his free hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you close. “Good girl,” he murmured, his voice softer now but still carrying that edge of dominance.

He held you there for a moment, his arms wrapped tightly around you, his breath warm against your ear. “You’re mine,” he whispered, his tone gentler now, though no less possessive. “Every inch of you.”

Your hands came up to rest over his, your body leaning into his embrace as you whispered, “Always yours.”

San let out a satisfied hum, holding you close as the heat of the moment began to fade, replaced by a warmth that felt just as overwhelming. “That’s my girl,” he said softly, his lips pressing against your hair as he held you, his arms never loosening.

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

[inbabylontheywept]

So. So. I have a horrific backlog in my inbox, and past attempts at answering it have generated more asks. Generally at a higher rate than I could answer the asks. Exceeding escape velocity. And I've been mulling over how to solve this, and my idea was to create a super-bus answer post. It'll be a little lengthy, so, you know. Click read more at your own risk. Roll them dice.

Well, you clicked it. God speed and god bless.

--- @meowserita says

I feel obligated to tell you i stayed up till four am reading a bunch of you stories, because they're incredible. Also feel like saying that the only other times ive stayed up this late in recent memory is when i was binge reading one piece so take that as you will. We'll see how much i regret this but odds are i wont like i didnt regret staying up reading one piece

Hahaha! Ha! Oof. I am extremely flattered and awed and impressed but also, my stories are going to be there tomorrow, and the next day, and maybe forever depending on how this whole "civilization" thing pans out. So. Sleep more. But also thank you for being a mega fan.

I had like, a week long binge of Naruto in middleschool that was awful. I didn't even like the show that much. People recommend anime to me now, and I feel like a former alcoholic turning down drinks at a party. No thank you, there's a 99% that will simply help be relax after work one day and a 1% chance that will ruin my life and I'll catch myself unironically saying "believe it!" years later, and I just can't take that chance. I have too many people depending on me.

---

Anonymous says

i see you are also from Utah. do you have a favorite swig menu item

No. I've never actually been into a Swig. There were a few soda shops back in AZ, but I never really got them either - I'm still not sure how a gummy shark in a blue soda is supposed to make it taste better.

My poison is generally gas station stuff. Slurpees are amazing, and I also like their little pickled sausage snack things. Probably literal poison, but they call to me.

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Anonymous says

four more messages in my head. four more tests of sanity.

hm. troubling. hope you pass.

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Anonymous says

yooo “fireflies infinity mirror room” mention!!! i lived in Tempe for a few years…one time i was making my way down the escalator from the PHX skytrain and there was a group of like 20-30 Mormons (?) at the base of the escalator waiting there to welcome out-of-state Mormons to some sort of Mormon convention in…well, Mesa, presumably? google is now telling me it may have been for the Easter pageant.

That does sound likely. My grandpa was actually in charge of the easter pageant for a few years down there - I actually broke my arm on the little pony Mary rides to Bethlehem. I was trying to keep my little brother and sister on it by using my arms as a seatbelt, but when they fell off anyway, I just had to kids land on my arm from 6 foot drop and got blessed me with a third elbow. I had some crazy ideas on how to become a professional baseball player with it, but my dad insisted we go to the hospital to do drugs, and when I woke up they fixed the damn thing. Could've gone pro.

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@synapticwanderer says

hello! just wanted to say I'm a big fan, your stories make me laugh and sometimes cry and sometimes both, sometimes at once. when my partner asks me what I'm laughing so hard at I read them to them, and sometimes I just go read them to them anyway. thank you for sharing your delightful way with words with us, and I hope you don't mind that I've got notifications on for your posts (you and I think three other writers at the moment) anyway, have a great day!

I don't mind! I hope I haven't ruined that privilege, actually, I shitpost more than most people think. I like mixing happy and sad as well as silly and earnest. But. Yes. A lot of shitposts.

Anyway, thank you for the comment! Happy trails.

---

@funnynamedottxt says

I kept hearing about your wrestling post, and then I saw the word “bisexual” when you were talking about it, so, needless to say, I sought it out immediately.

And, while this isn’t technically part of the actual post, in that reblog where you were talking to that one dude about sexism and societal issues and shit, you made some pussy joke about Lake Michigan and that may just be the best thing I’ve read all week.

Sorry about the run on sentence btw, I know it probably deeply hurts the writer in you, but I find it funny and am too lazy to self-censor sooooo

I'm glad you had a good time reading it. I don't know which gender I'd imagine the great lakes as to be honest. I just know that their thing with Michigan is beautiful and would be very distracting should I ever become an astronaut. I don't want to make fun of people for wanting a better world, and I would actually say I did a botch job on my response. Didn't realize it until several hundred people got mad at me. I know I write well, and the catch .22 of that is that people assume that my ability to read the room is probably higher than it is.

Anyway. I don't fault them for getting mad. Not my finest hour.

And I'm not a snob about run on sentences by the way. English teachers want to make rules about how you write and rules to follow, but that's because they need to grade by rubrics for it to be fair. It turns an art form into something mechanical though. Just make it natural and the rest comes after.

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@00x7 says

Hi. I hope you're doing well.

I had read your wrestling story. I had not laughed so hard in a great many years. I thank you for this, though I am also sympathetic to your misfortunes.

There was enough going on that I was naturally curious if you were or are Mormon, a curiosity born from being someone who grew up as such myself (something that being queer doesn't really bump up nicely against, though you hardly would need to hear such a thing from me), and which visiting your blog quickly answered for me.

Of course, scrolling down for two seconds immediately had me realize that you were also the kid with the grandpa and the worms. I had read the worm story before, but visiting somewhere and realizing it was you was a nearly transcendent experience. My third eye was rather forcibly opened. What a storied life you have had.

Anyway, as an amateur writer, I'm very happy to have found your blog. We don't know eachother, but your words resonate with me.

Whenever you read this, I hope you have a good one. Thank you.

Oh! That's my favorite thing - when people like two different stories with very different tones. It's kind of a would you love me if I wasn't beautiful sort of question - would you like my writing if it wasn't purely silly? And it makes me happy when the answer is yes.

I actually wandered through your blog to try and find your writing, but I didn't have much luck. I'd love to see some, if you're willing. Send me a link if you keep it on another platform. I couldn't do a critique if I wanted to - all my writing knowledge is just gut level stuff that I don't know how to share - but it's just a fun way to know people. And sometimes, I see a style and I go ah, I can pick a few shiny bits off this and wear them around.

---

@turtletotem says Your bio says to tell you if we write, so, new follower here, and i write! Lots of fanfic (links in bio) and also original fiction under Shelly Greene and Elizabeth Belyeu (both on Amazon). Feel free to check it out, but I won’t take it personal if you don’t, lol.

I checked your pages on AO3 for this, and alas - No snippets for me first. You write books and novels, which is something I've always aspired towards, and never really suceeded at. I had this view when I started writing short stories that I'd eventually writer longer stories and serials and in fact I just got better at writing short stories. Which isn't much of a tragedy, actually, but it's a road I haven't really moved forward on yet. Writer to writer.

As a reader, I already have several books I've promised to read people. If you have any shorter works (less than 5k words?) lob them my way though! c

---

Anonymous says

Just read your post about Atlas Shrugged (my condolences, comrade) and I must, simply MUST ask if you've ever heard of The Cobra Commander Dialogues? It asks the very important question "what if Cobra Commander was there and found this all at best inane and stupid, and at worst it offended his villainous sensibilities?" As someone who hasn't read the book OR watched the cartoon I found it very entertaining!

I just took a peeksies at those - they're beautiful. Dialogue is a great weakness of mine, and it is hard not to be a little envious of this writer. Thanks for sharing this with me.

For the curious

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Anonymous says

Your story about the breakup and the olives and the Slim Jim's and your dad made me cry -- not like, tear up, but an actual good cry for a couple minutes. I don't totally know why I reacted like that but I definitely felt better in some way afterwards. So, thanks. I think I'm gonna remember that story for the rest of my life.

The story stuck with me both because everyone involved was good. My ex's dad, the neighbor, my dad - everyone was doing their best. And it was true, wasn't it? Brains are good at remembering bad things. It's a breakup. And it hurt like hell. But the pain of that memory carries with it this feeling well, even when things suck, people don't. I also liked this view of my dad parenting so consciously. It wasn't a background thing to him. He thought a lot about what he was doing, and what he was saying, and how he was treating me. I owe him big for that.

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Anonymous says

What did you do with the left shoes after your date?

So, I think teenagers like being able to convey fuck you, I do what I want through their clothes. There are punk scenes for that, and goth, and other things. My way of doing that was just dressing aggressively badly. Mismatched plaids and sports jackets meant for people half my height and twice my width, purchased from goodwill, and basketball shorts mixed with knee high socks and on and on. That was part of my teenage rebellion.

Anyway, I added the shoes in and just wore mismatching shoes to make the outfit worse, both because it was a fashion crime, and because it was a litltle inside joke with my friends who knew the story. I wound up losing them over the years because I would use the left sets as makeshift projectiles.

---

@galapagos-spinch says

I just wanted to compliment you on your story about wrestling a girl in middle school, you're a fantastic writer

Thanks. I have some regrets about that story, but it was fun to write, and it from a craft standpoint, i am proud of it. I appreciate the comment. :)

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Anonymous says

equality is when young boys aren't allowed physical boundaries i guess

Eesh. We're getting to wrestling asks. Look, when we all signed up for wrestling, we signed up to wrestle girls. It's part of the sport. If your boundary is to not wrestle girls, the way you maintain it is by not signing up for wrestling. The point of my response, which I did not convey clearly enough, was to ask for forgiveness for failure. A middle school boy falling short of the right thing is different from a middle school boy seeking to do the wrong thing, and as a bar, it's...

It's the kind of thing I'd hope people would go, Well, they're shits, but I can't hate them over it. Don't defend us as having done the right thing - we did not. Just, have some grace for the weakness of teens. They're still growing, and if you put too much pressure on them, they'll crumble. And we crumbled.

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Anonymous says

Hey there! Sorry, not actually a question, just wanted to say I've seen posts of yours reblogged before on occasion and I finally started following you because you're a gifted storyteller and your stories are hilarious, poignant, or both!

Oh! A relief. This is so nice. Thank you. Hopefully you read this. Maybe I should turn anonymous asks off or something going forward if I set myself on doing more of these super-bus replies.

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Anonymous says

i am crying with laughter at your stories. the way you tell them is perfect, please never stop

I'll try. I had a several month period of no writing after burning out on HFY. Wasn't sure how to make a genre change. I'll probably have more periods of quiet like that, but to be honest, my writing is probably my favorite thing that I do. I like engineering, and I'm pretty good at it, but I love this, and I am very good at it, and in periods where I don't write it feels almost painful.

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@auronlu says

just sending you some gentle love from an older queer person.

My parents moved to Utah after I went to grad school. I am eternally grateful that my dad turned down that promotion the first time, when I was about to enter high school, because I didn't want to lose my friends and move to Utah and go to school there in the 80s.

So I escaped, but I've seen a little bit of what you had to go through and I've heard from some of my mom's friends that she's made there how hard it is when you don't conform. I'm glad you were able to escape and that you have your own life now.

I bet that girl remembers you and that when these topics come up, she's not as willing to throw people like us under the bus without question.

you did the best you could in a very difficult situation, and by being you, you helped some of the next generation realize the lines they're told about queer people may not be true.

There may have been a closeted or questioning kid in that class, reassured by your example or simple refusal to show prejudice. you don't know what positive impact you had on those kids, but you went in with the best intentions you could and I have a feeling you did more good than you know.

take care and have a good life

( note: my main blog is actuslly @sepdet )

This is actually one of the earliest asks that I didn't want to answer because I didn't want to lose it. For anyone else looking, they're talking about a story I told about teaching primary as a Mormon.

I hope she does. I don't think anyone in the ward ever actually knew I was bi - I kept that very close to my chest. Even after I left. The kids certainly didn't. But they knew that I loved them very much, and they apparently felt strongly that I was a good person. I think the lesson I gave them was that a person can leave the church and still be good. I hope that serves them well.

---

@karmaajr says

UR A FUNNY GUY 🫵

aw yissssss

---

@abisexualfrog says

Hello, I just wanted to say that I really like your stories and the way you write, your style

Sometimes I’m in a bad mood and then I go read a few of your stories -I especially like the ones at your work- and it cheers me up because of how funny it is. (The fridge story? So good)(oh and the water balloon and and and… endless)

Im not super good at compliment because well English isn’t my first language and all that but I figured I could still tell you, can’t hurt.

So yeah I really really enjoy your writing!! It’s so good!

And not just the stories of things that happened to you, the other ones too, they are also very good

This is another one of the ones I kept because I didn't want to lose it.

Thank you for reading my stories. Your english is fantastic. And it is rare to get comments on my old fictional sci-fi pieces - those were kind of my baby's-first-steps. If you read those you are in deep, and I am incredibly touched.

I'd hug you if I could.

---

@rockinhand says

the red bun on those burgers was actually dyed via Beets. i tried it when it was around and it was unremarkable

I know what this is referring to. Surprisingly. But I will leave it be and just enjoy have this remain esoteric bordering on arcane.

---

@newkittypoom says

i saw your reblog on that falin fanart and i was like "wait. this is the 28 eggs snake guy?" and i came from the post about your wrasslin days and i saw you answer an ask about being ex-mormon and well. im definitely following the blog for your writing. thanks for sharing these stories!

thanks for commenting! It's flattering to get recognized online. Means my writing voice is distinct. Got a little niche and I'm thrivin' in it.

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Anonymous says

I'm sure someone must have pointed this out by now, but you weren't dating just because she thought you were dating. If that wasn't the kind of relationship you thought you were in, you weren't dating. She was just being presumptuous. You didn't "accidentally date" someone. You can't. Dating is a mutual, consensual thing.

Yeah. Yeah. Phrasing and all.

--

@nbspacegay says

(1)

Hi I read your dating stories they are hilarious. I am spiritually holding hands with you because I too am terrible at dating. I accidentally pterodactyl screamed at my boyfriend when he told me he loved me once. I did also love him. I just panicked, screamed and then quite literally sprinted away. I also did not have the excuse of being in high school because I was in university.

(2)

if you so choose you can publish that last ask, i sent it becuase i thought you and your followers might find it funny

(3)

also sorry for sending you three messages like a lunatic, but also feel free to ignore it

I haven't been ignoring this, it just got buried and then I panicked and it has been crushing me like an ancient marsh, squeezing out all my peaty-bits until all that was left was an ultra-flamable bed of hydrocarbons.

Pterodactyl screaming at your boyfriend is a power move. You should do it more often. I am going to answer more questions that way. I had a customer with a masters in geology ask me why I could not provide their specified sample rate, sample times, and sample counts, and I had to explain to them that you can actually only pick two of those numbers, and the third just happens, and that the numbers they gave me did not work that way. It's like saying "I need to drive 50 miles, and I want to drive at 15 mph for two hours." I'm like, yo, go faster, or drive longer, but you have given me a multiplication problem that does not work. And they kept arguing with me, despite the actuall oscilloscope screen telling them, hey, bozo, that math does not math, and I kept trying to reason with them, when in fact I should have just pterodactyl screamed.

---

Anonymous says

When I saw your blog title my first thought was that it's a reference to psalm 137 (it's on my mind since it was just tisha b'av) and was wondering why a nonjew would do that, but then I realized you're a fan of Babylon so it's probably a reference to that. And then I googled it and apparently its also a song. So which one/which combination are you referencing?

Also your blind date story was a fascinating read, it made me laugh. Very impressed by your chutzpah

Oh nvm, saw that you answered the above in another ask, feel free to ignore

No, I totally get it. Mormonism robbed and scrambled the iconography of a lot of religions, but the two it yoinked the most from are the Masons and the Jews. Like, it is my culture now, but I will acknowledge that my culture is what would happen if you asked a 14 year old conman from NY to skin your culture and wear it. I can't imagine how weird it must be to hear us talk.

Glad to have you approval on the blind date story though. That was a nightmare.

---

@conkreetmonkey says

Personally I think you should do the egg thing again just for the hell of it. I honestly would because you made it sound fun, but eggs be expensive around these parts

My budget is a liiiiittle bit tight for the next month because my wife is doing occupational therapy, but there's a grocery store nearby that sells quail eggs, and to celebrate her finishing that, I am going to be a dozen and shotgun those bad boys. Hell yeah.

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Anonymous says

bulking must be so easy if you can effortlessly consume 15 raw eggs

No, for two reasons.

The first is that it was not effortless. It was effortful. I had to sweat to get them down. I had to fight them into me. I have a very vivid memory of finishing the eggs, and then leaning over to tie my shoe, and feel the eggs start to actually tip out of me, not even as like, puking, but like emptying water out of a boot. I actually had to sit for a half hour after that for the eggs to actually stay.

The second reason is that eating is easy for me, but gaining muscle mass is not. If I work out like crazy and lift weights, I get very wirey, but I never actually get big. I tried bulking one time, and my muscles stayed the same size while the 20 pounds I gained just went right to my belly and I looked like a grape on a toothpick. Very wild experience. Made my peace with being a skinny nerd.

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Anonymous says

just letting you know that you can sterilise raw eggs by keeping them at 130°F for a few hours, you can do this with a sous vide and eat them with no salmonella concerns

I love tumblr so much but all the people that read a story about some idiot eating 15 raw eggs on an impulse and then went ah, yes, this man clearly owns a sous vide machine and is willing to use it are crazier than I am. Get some realistic expecations of the world. Know your audience. You are setting your bar too high, and will find yourself endlessly disappointed. Stop it. This is why left leaning people are so fucking sad. They read the egg story and think they can solve my life with a sous vide, instead of reading the egg story and realizing that there is nothing in this world that could possibly save my from myself. I am not a stupid person. I am a highly motivated clever person who enjoys doing stupid things. There's no stopping that.

---

@brambledboneyards says

Hey OP I just wanted to let you know I was informed when I was younger that farm fresh eggs will not give you salmonella. I would recommend fact checking this, but if it does remain true I hope you can date the cravings once more

This is actually good advice. I know several people who own chickens down here. Bless you.

---

@queerdo-mcjewface

Some stores sell pasteurized eggs for recipes that require raw or undercooked eggs

Alas, they only sell egg whites down here, which are flavorless. I want the whole egg experience. The slime, the yolk, the cracking open - I appreciate the advice, but no, it's just not visceral enough.

---

@decentmonster says

you'd probably love quail shooters tbh, you can get them at most sushi restaurants and theyre served raw and are really good (also safe to eat)

Also farm-fresh eggs are less likely to have salmonella!!

Two months time, I will eat a dozen raw quail eggs.

---

Anonymous says

I want you to know the egg story is literally one of the funniest things I've ever read in my life. I laughed so hard I woke up my husband

I think that was the first little life-short-story thing I posted. Maybe? I'm glad you had fun reading it.

[platonicmoonwater00]

I see these everywhere. and i mean EVERYWHERE. and also i need motivation so lets go ig

10 notes- i'll drink on weekends too(i forget cos on weekends im just at home and not at school lugging around my frank green in my tote bag)

20 notes- i will(try to) pay attention in class

30 notes- i'll watch my whole watch later playlist on yt

50 notes- i'll actually do the techniques im learning in ✨therapy✨ to help with my anxiety and shitty social skills

75 notes- i'll take my iron tablets every day

100 notes- i'll start my assessments when i get them(i have one due tomorrow which i was gonna finish now but i'm doing this apparently)

125 notes- i'll ask my crush to hangout alone during spring holidays

150 notes- i'll try to go for a run or at least a walk every day

500 notes- i'll write another chapter of my fanfiction

1k notes- i will actually make an effort to get clean

2k notes- if i see someone pretty that i want to go out w in public i'll ask for their number cos holy fuck i need to put myself out there. even if we js end up being friends cos holy shit im lonely

3k notes- i will actually finished the dress i started making

4k notes- i will try to get over my crush cos its ✨never gonna happen✨(she so pretty and masc tho its gonna be hard)

5k notes- (this is so far up here cos idk how to do this so im gonnna need a lot of time to figure out how) im gonna try to demolish the rumour that im gay thats going around a bit.**

6k notes- i will finish all my crochet projects and not start any new ones until im done.

**context. i go to an all girls school and theres a lot of people so its not like everyone knows everyone, even in my year(theres approx. 174 in my year alone, and theres 6 year groups at my school cos high school is 7-12 where i live) but some people know me ig cos i know a few girl who are more notable, im in the top class and i recdntly started sitting with a group that the popular girls call furries.

(theyre a pretty big group and popular girls hate them cos one or two of them are trans - ftm, ftnb etc, no mtf cos my lovely/s catholic school wouldnt let trans girls in- several of them are gay, a few of them are emo, most of them are poc's and a few of them dont have english as their first language. overall they are seen as the "weird kids" in my year)

so this rumour apparently is going around that i like a girl in my class(i absolutely do but if you havent noticed my school is hella hoomophobic and i could very well get beat) which js isnt ideal and is gonna lead to a lot of issues, especially if a lot of people start believing it so if you guys have any advice pls lmk. and its not like i can js get a fake bf and show him off cos its a GIRLS SCHOOL. if i reconnect with a friend from primary school tho we could pretend to be dating and like make a post on social media. but then kids at his school would find out and hed either have to tell them its fake(which would eventually find its way back to my school, and when i say eventually i mean immediately) or he couldnt get a girlfriend so that probs wouldnt work.

i know it sounds like im making a mountain out of a molehill but ive got years to go here and i dont want to spend all my high school years getting bullied bc even if i went to a teacher about it or smthing id have to like analyse them first and try to figure out which ones are homophobic or not.

like learning about why "being gay is a sin"(pretend im saying that really mockingly) is literally in our curriculum.

holy shit that was longer than expected.

no pressure tags: @wishiwereheather13 @loserboyfriendrjl @fracturedsunsets @chasingthemoony @stars-and-leather @starsofleo

thats all im doing idk how you guys can stand js copy and pasting moots over and over i cant do this i did the first six that came up and that seems like enough 🤷‍♀️

begun doing

going to do

finished

[number1mingyustan]

Habit (part ii.) —k.sy

GIF by chogiwapadada

fuckboy!hoshi x fem!reader

Genre: fwb au, college au, fuckboy au, angst, smut

Warnings: kissing, cursing, oral (m.), unprotected sex, penetrative sex (doggystyle),explicit smut

Word Count: 3.3k

part i. part iii. part iv.

_______________________________________________

(a/n: i was gonna wait like a week to post this but i got impatient 😊)

"Shorty," Soonyoung nudges you.

You, Seokmin, Soonyoung, Nai, and another one of your friends, Joshua, are all out for lunch together. You're all engaged in conversation and enjoying your food when he nudges you.

"Hmm?" you turn your head toward him.

"Can I come to your dorm tomorrow night?" he asks.

"What?" you question.

"Nai and Seokmin have plans involving her coming to our dorm and they're definitely going to kick me out. I thought it would be cool if you and I could hang. If you're busy it's fine though, I'll just ask Akari if–"

"You can come over," you cut him off.

He smiles and thanks you before picking up the conversation with the rest of the group happily. There's a million thoughts lingering in your mind but you choose to push them away.

__

The next night Soonyoug comes over and you end up in the same position you were in four days prior. You're underneath him, only half dressed and panting.

You made it halfway through some stupid movie before he kissed you. The tension had been high since the moment he entered your dorm room. You were only wearing a tank top and some shorts and his eyes had been on you since he stepped through the door. Neither of you was truly paying attention to the movie and it was only a waiting game before his lips were on yours. You kissed him back, of course. Pretty soon your back hit the mattress and the rest is history.

You've tuned out the voices playing on your computer, however the lights in whatever is going on in the movie are illuminating the room. His hands wander as he kisses you, cupping your breasts, playing with the hem of your shorts. His touch is so delicate yet needy.

He hooks his fingers into your shorts and pulls them off, tossing the fabric onto the floor. You decide to push back onto the mattress, flipping the switch and climbing on top of him. He doesn't resist even though he's much stronger than you. You crawl up his body, using one hand to shut your laptop before your lips find his again. You're grinding down on him, the absence of your shorts creating a thin layer between your bodies.

You nudge your noses together before planting a quick kiss on his lips. He reaches his head up for more in hopes of kissing you again, but you have other plans. You allow your nose to brush against his once more, but your lips don't touch. Before he knows it, your head is just above his crotch, hands fiddling with the strings of his sweatpants.

"Wait," he stops you.

You completely freeze, looking up at him. "What?"

"Do you know what you're doing?" he asks.

A beat.

No way this fucker thinks you don't know how to suck a dick.

"Soonyoung, who do you think I am?" you question.

"Shorty, it's not like that. I just wasn't sure how much um... experience you've had with this," he explains.

You glare at him. "You should know by now I’m not some sort of virgin Soonyoung," you reach your hand into his sweatpants. "I told you my problem was that the guys couldn't make me finish, not the other way around."

Matter of fact, you've given head more times than you've actually had sex. Guys tend to be pretty selfish, but in this moment it's actually kind of working in your favor. And oh, were you about to prove him wrong.

You pull off his sweats and his underwear together. He’s already half hard and you waste no time getting to work. You spit on his cock before stroking him in your hand. You start of slow, progressively getting faster as you turn your hand along his length.

You feel his body relax and sink into bed sheets as he sighs out of satisfaction. Bingo.

Seconds later, half his length is down your throat and you continue stroking him. You thrust his cock into your throat with each bob of your head, taking a little bit more of him with each movement.

“Holy fuck Shorty,” he gasps.

You’re moving quickly, allowing his cockhead to nudge against the back of your throat each time you bob your head. His cock is coated with your saliva, easily slipping in and out of your mouth and down your throat.

His body starts to grow tense again.

You’re still stroking his length with what you can’t fit in your mouth. You allow your tongue to run along the underside of his cock every time you bob your head. His breathing grows shaky.

“Shit-yeah that’s good,” he moans as he places his hand on your head and pushes it down.

There’s tears prickling the corners of your eyes as his cock gags you, but you can take it. Your eyes peak up, admiring how beautiful he looks right now, His body is sinking into the bedsheets and his eyes are screwed shut. His lips are parted and you can hear him moaning.

You like it when he makes noise. When he talks to you, moans because of you. He's so responsive, it sends tingles through your body. Fills you up with warmth in more ways than one.

His hand guides you as he continues to push down on your head. Usually, you hate it when guys are selfish and push your head, but with Soonyoung, his hand guiding your head has you completely soaking your panties. You press your thighs together as you take him deeper into your throat to ease the tension. You feel his thighs grow tense and he suddenly pulls your head up. You look up at him with confusion.

He’s panting softly. “Fuck, I was so close. Didn’t wanna cum in your mouth.”

You pout. “I wanted you to.”

He pulls your body back on top of his and kisses your forehead. “Maybe next time Shorty, gotta fuck you properly now for treating me so good.”

He pins you underneath him.

“Yeah?” you tease.

“Yeah,” he flips you onto your stomach. “Best fucking head of my life.”

Your ego swells when he confirms what you already knew.

You were only wearing a tank top and panties, making everything much easier for him. He slides the thick clothing over your head and pulls it off. He leaves a trail of kisses down your back until he reaches your ass. He slides your panties down slowly.

“This wet just from sucking me off huh?” he tosses the soaked fabric onto the floor.

“Shut up Soonyoung,” you breathe out.

You don’t even need to look at him to know he’s smirking right now. He pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor.

You feel his bare cock press against your ass.

“Soonyoung,” you say.

“Hmm?”

“You’re forgetting something,” you remind him.

“No I’m not,” he presses a kiss on your shoulder.

“Soonyoung,” you warn.

“Shorty you told me you’d let me cum inside next time so I didn’t even bring any condoms,” he lies.

"Soonyoung you always have condoms on you," you remind him.

He sighs. "Okay fine you got me, but you said I could."

He begins peppering your back with gentle kisses. "Please," he whines.

You really shouldn't be considering this. Yes, you told him he could but that was in the heat of the moment. You didn't think he'd actually remember it. You know you trust him and you both know that you're on the pill. And you're really really considering it.

“Fuck,” you breathe out. “You’re lucky I’m on the pill.”

It’s all the permission he needs before he’s sliding his cock into you from behind. You both moan out loud at the feeling. You're so wet, he slides in with ease, filling you up inch by inch.

He regrets not making you cum beforehand because he fears he might not last long. You feel so fucking good, he’s losing his mind.

His hands hold your hips in place as he slams his hips into your backside. He’s mesmerized by the way your ass recoils with each thrust.

His hips pick up in speed, fucking you rougher and faster. Your moans are echoing off the walls and filling the space.

“Holy shit Soonyoung,” you cry out.

You may never want to go back to protected sex. It’s an entirely new feeling, having him stretch you open raw. It feels so fucking good and so very intimate.

He snakes his hand between your though, rubbing quick circles on your clit. He needs you to cum before him, needs to feel you throb around him while he can really feel you.

You’re crying out in pleasure, moaning his name like a chant. He pushes your head into your pillow, muffling your sounds, but giving him better access. With you bent over more, he can pound into you better.

His cock is hitting deep inside of you, dragging out and pushing in at a fast pace. He’s grunting in your head, fingers circling faster as his hips grow erratic.

Your warning is muffled, but he’s close enough to hear you tell him you’re cumming. Your whole body spasms when you cum. Your tears have started to stain your pillow and your legs grow shaky and wobbly.

The throbbing of your cunt sends Soonyoung into overdrive when he cums. He's so caught up in how good you feel, he nearly forgets to pull out. Thankfully he does, slipping his cock out of you and stroking himself quickly until his cum coats your ass.

He lets out a curse before his body collapses on your bed. He runs his hand through his damp hair before placing a kiss on your shoulder.

“You okay?” he asks.

You lay on your bed, face sinking into the soft sheets. “Yeah,” you breathe out.

“Okay good,” he sits up. “Need to get you washed up.”

He disappears into your bathroom, turning on the shower before returning. “C’mon Shorty.”

Huh? He wants to shower with you? Does that mean he’s staying the night?

He helps you out of bed and into the shower where he joins you. He helps to wash your hair and body, sure to get in his few sneaky touches.

“Shorty,” he says, scrubbing into your scalp.

“Hmm?” you hum.

“I want you to come to my show,” he says.

“What show?”

“My dance performance,” he lathers his hands with more shampoo. “It’s a month from tomorrow in the Fallin' Flower Theater and I want you there.”

Soonyoung was a dance major. Dance has been a passion of his since he was little and being able to pursue it in college felt like a dream to him. He even claims that he danced before he walked as a baby.

Why he was in your Economics class while you were a Business major? Simple, his parents.

He told you about it once over lunch. His parents saw dance as a hobby and not something to be taken seriously, especially not as a career path. They signed him up for dance classes when he was 3, and he'd been doing it since then. Jazz, hip-hop, contemporary, and even a little bit of tap. Soonyoung did it all, and he loved it. But they thought he’d grow out of it after high school, and were mortified when he told them he wanted to pursue dance in college.

They told him they wouldn’t pay for his education if he was going to be throwing it away for some ‘stupid hobby.’ Told him he should be studying something that would bring money and value into his life.

But he was able to convince them, as long as he minored in something business-related and maintained at least a 3.5, his parents would support him.

He still hated how they viewed his passion, but remained grateful for the opportunity nonetheless.

“It’s gonna be a really big showcase and an important night for me,” he explains. “So will you come? It’s at 7.”

“Yeah I’ll be there,” you assure him. “I don’t think I’m doing anything anyway. And if something comes up, I’ll cancel.”

“Really?” he beams. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

Once he finishes washing you up, he insists that it’s his turn and crouches so you can wash his hair for him.

“I like the blonde on you,” you say as you scrub his hair.

“Yeah?” he smiles. “Akari told me she liked the sliver I had a little while back, was thinking of doing that again.”

Oh.

Akari.

Your heart sinks at the mention of her name. You feel like such an idiot. Of course, he’s still sleeping with her and God knows who. You don’t know how you let yourself forget.

You’re not the only one.

You just let him fuck you raw and now he’s talking about another one of the girls he’s sleeping with. You started to feel special because he stayed and showered with you, but he probably does this with everyone.

How dumb of you.

It's not his fault he's so likable. You don't think he's doing it on purpose, you really hope not. It's your own fault really, you shouldn't get your hopes up so much.

You finish washing up in silence and tell him you’re tired. He takes it at his cue to leave and redresses himself. He even helps to tuck you in and you hate that it makes your heart race.

He promises to text you when he’s home safe even if you’re asleep when he does. It bothers you that you have to hold back a smile at the gesture.

He sees himself out silently and your heart and your mind struggle to understand if you wanted him to leave or to stay.

__

You can't help but wonder if he's always been good at this. It's been two days since you last slept with Soonyoung, yet here is is sitting next to you in Economics telling you about some video game he and Seokmin have been obsessed with recently.

He’s been coming over more often. Just about any time Seokmin and Nai are together, he ends up in your dorm. And you open the door every time.

He usually stays after too, playing board games, watching movies, or just talking to you. He orders food and cuddles with you when you have the time, but it’s so hard for you to read him. You can’t quite figure out what’s going on in his head.

There’s days where he leaves too, cleans you ups and puts his clothes on and leaves after only a few words. It doesn’t happen often, but it hurts more each time it does.

He treats you so well in the bedroom, fucks you good too. He tends to be touchy too, playing with your hair or simply running his fingers along your skin. It drives you crazy, that he can treat you like his girl in the bedroom and like you’re just a friend in class.

It’s infuriating how good he is at this. There’s a million questions running through your mind, but you bite your tongue. Figure you’ll spare yourself the embarrassment.

__

It’s been about a week since the last time you saw Soonyoung outside of class. And now Nai has dragged you to a frat party so she can see her boyfriend. And you know if Seokmin is here, Soonyoung will be too.

Nai disappeared about 30 minutes ago with Seokmin, leaving you to fend for yourself. The music is loud and there’s not enough alcohol in your system to drown it out. You haven’t seen Soonyoung anywhere and you don’t want to be here anymore.

If he is here, he’s probably upstairs fucking someone without you as so much as a thought on his mind. You hate to admit that the only reason Nai was able to convince you to come was because you thought he’d be here.

Oh.

“Shorty!” his voice calls.

You turn around, seeing Soonyoung make his way down the stairs. Leina follows close behind him and you bite back a frown.

You’ve got a good idea of what they were doing upstairs a few short moments ago. You feel your heart twist and tighten at the sight.

This shouldn’t bother you. You and Soonyoung are just friends, and just because you’ve been hooking up, you shouldn’t be getting any ideas. You’re not his, and he’s sure as hell not yours.

He completely ditches her and makes his way toward you. He very drunkenly pulls you in for a hug. He doesn’t let go as quickly as you thought he would, he hold you for a moment and your body grows warm.

“Hi Soonyoung,” you greet him.

“I had no idea you were here,” he frowns, finally releasing you from the hug.

“Yeah, I was just on my way out though,” you tell him.

“What?” he shouts. “You can’t leave!”

“Nai dragged me here and then disappeared with Seokmin like 30 minutes ago and I don’t know anyone else here,” you tell him. “And I have an exam tomorrow and I can’t say I’m in the mood to meet new people.”

He frowns. “I’m here though.”

“True,” you smile. “But you’re also very drunk.”

He huffs. There was no denying that.

“Fine, I’ll walk you home,” he says.

“Oh no—you don’t have to-“

He’s already disappearing back upstairs before you can finish. “Just let me get my jacket!”

He comes back downstairs a few moments later with his jacket and leads you outside. You tell him again that he didn’t have to do this, but he assures you that he doesn’t mind.

The two of you walk at your own pace, engaging in drunken conversation. It’s pleasant, talking to him. Even though you’re both intoxicated, you still have really meaningful talks with him.

"Wait," he stops suddenly, causing you to stand still.

He pulls his jacket off his body and wraps it around your body. "You looked cold."

"I was," you smile at him. "Thank you."

"Of course," he beams at you drunkenly.

"So, Soonyoung," you start.

"Nah Shorty," he interrupts. "Hoshi, call me Hoshi."

"Hoshi?"

Hoshi. It's a nickname that he's had since he was young. He doesn't really remember where it came from, probably his mom. But he rarely lets anyone call him that. It's a nickname that only his family and really close loved ones used.

The people he really cared about and loved.

"Yeah, Hoshi," he smiles. “It’s only fair since I always call you Shorty.”

"What's your show about?" you ask.

"What show?" he questions rather drunkenly.

"Your dance performance?"

"OH!" he giggles to himself. "It's like... a guy who's been shielded pretty much all his life. And so he runs away from home and ends up in this huuuge city. And at first he's scared and he feels out of place, but then he meets like a bunch of other people and goes through this whole journey of self discovery and love and stuff."

"You're telling that story entirely through dance?" you ask.

He nods. "Yeah it's kinda like the nutcracker where you have to rely only on the movement and the music to understand because there's no words."

"Hoshi that's amazing," you beam.

"Thank you Shorty," he grins.

"Is it one of those one man shows?" you ask.

He shakes his head. "No, there's other people in it. It's mostly me though, and I choreographed everything."

"That's so impressive, I can't wait to see it," you tell him.

Your walk has come to an end as you two approach your dorm. You start to slide his jacket off your body, but he stops you. "Keep it, I'll get it back another time." he yawns. "It looks cute on you."

Why is your heart beating so fast right now? Fuck, you really need to get inside. "Thank you for walking me home" you smile.

"Of course, you're good company Shorty," he winks at you.

"Are you sure you'll make it to your dorm okay?" You ask.

He nods, assuring you that the alcohol is starting to wear off and that he's fine. You trust him.

"Goodnight Hoshi."

"Goodnight Shorty."

_______________________________________________

© number1mingyustan - Do not repost without permission.

[writingquestionsanswered]

https://www.tumblr.com/writingquestionsanswered/730814386289131520/defining-terminology-via-pov?source=share

I saw this post and it inspired me to ask a similar question I was dealing with. Is it weird for the narrator to explain time skips or off screen events? They always feel so unnatural when I write them. Ive seen it done, but I can't judge the best way to do it.

Narrator Explaining Time Skips and Off-Screen Events

Nope, it's not weird, no matter who your narrator is. Your narrator is there to tell the story to your reader. If there is no way to show something through action or explain it through dialogue, the only other alternative is to have the narrator explain it.

With time skips, that's almost always going to be the narrator's job rather than something shown via action or told via dialogue, simply because action isn't often the best way to show time passing (though it can certainly work in some cases), and dialogue doesn't usually come right at the beginning of a scene (though it can sometimes.) The point being, although you certainly can show time passing with action or explain it through dialogue, a lot of the time it's just explained in exposition, aka narration. I talk about that in these posts: Guide: How to Skip Time in Your Story, Subtle Scene Transitions, and Skipping Broad Gaps in Time without Timestamp.

With off-screen events, you really have your pick between exposition, action (yes... action... I'll get to that in a second), and dialogue. It just depends on what works best for the scene/story. So, for example, let's say a secondary character had to run an errand for the protagonist, and what they find out from that errand is important, but showing the actual errand playing out isn't important. So, it happens off-screen. You can have the narrator explain it:

While Todd and Amy started pulling down the interior walls, Anna went to city hall to find out next steps for permitting. After waiting all afternoon to speak with someone and being told to come back the following day, she returned to the house feeling defeated but bearing mochas from their favorite coffee shop.

Alternatively, you could use dialogue to show this off-screen moment:

"How did it go?" Todd said, dropping his sledgehammer when he turned and found a defeated-looking Anna, who at least came bearing coffee.

"Not great," she said, handing him and Amy a mocha from their favorite coffee shop. "I was at city hall all day waiting to talk to someone in permitting, and after I finally got to speak with someone, they told me to come back tomorrow."

Amy frowned. "Yikes."

If the off-screen event happened before the story begins, or happened off-screen but was particularly important or memorable for the character who experienced it, you could also potentially use deep memory recall, a flashback, or a dream to show it happening. This wouldn't really be a great choice for Amy's long wait at the permitting office, but for the sake of the example, if it was worthy, it might look something like this.

Amy woke with a start, drenched in sweat, her nightmare addled brain telling her she was still inside the permitting office. The nightmare had been so real, she could still smell the stale coffee that permeated the small room--could still hear the quiet sizzle of the mildly flickering fluorescent lighting. She'd been suck waiting to speak with someone all afternoon, and they'd told her to come back tomorrow. Now she felt like she'd been through the ordeal twice in one day. She wasn't sure she could stomach going back again in the morning. She would have to make Todd go in her place.

I hope that helps! :)

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[1d1195]

Neighbors IV

What's this?! A timely update?!

Read the other parts here: Part I Part II and Part III

I could be persuaded into one more part if needed. I'll make a series post for this tomorrow probably as well so it's easier to find.

🐱 I hope you enjoy once more.

Disclaimer: EVERYTHING I know about being a doctor comes from WebMD and TV. I'm fully aware this is outlandish. But it's for the plot ya know?

She looked like she was going to collapse. Harry took that moment to stand closer to her. The back of his hand touched hers. She leaned towards him almost instinctively. He took this as his signal to press her against his body. He wasn’t going to let her down. He would never let her collapse.

There was no other way to explain it and Harry had searched his brain over and over to get to the bottom of his emotions. He wanted it to be anything but what he was feeling. But there was no other word. Harry was mad. He wanted to see her. He missed her dearly. Missed Rory just as much, too. But he knew it wasn’t his business or duty to be part of the decision. He had no say in the matter. He could only love her as much as she’d let him.

And he did love her. He never thought he didn’t or couldn’t. She was an incredible mother and her gentleness, kindness, and sweetness on top of her beauty was so much for Harry. He was lucky to get to know her over these two years. While he was mournfully upset over not being around her, he did understand why she pushed away like this.

Of course, he understood.

He still hated it.

So Harry went about his day as if she and Rory weren’t part of his life any longer and it killed him but he would do anything to make her happy. Even if it meant he couldn’t see her anymore.

*

She was about to lose her mind.

Rory hadn’t seemed like himself in days. Based on the spots on the back of his throat she assumed it was strep. But she took him to the doctor, got the antibiotic and moved on. When he didn’t get better after the five-day course of antibiotics, they sent him home again with another five days’ worth of treatment.

But it was now day seven pushing on day eight. Rory wasn’t getting any better. Rory was tired all the time. He was quiet. So quiet it scared her enough that she was watching him sleep rather than sleeping herself. He was clearly in pain, and she couldn’t take it anymore.

Topped with not being around her best friend that was literally and figuratively a stone’s throw away. Her brain was all but fried.

After the first bout of non-working medication, she began researching. It was a horrible idea, but it was the only thing she could do. She wasn’t a medical professional. All she knew was from TV shows and she knew that they only did rare diseases to make the show fun and exciting.

This was not fun nor exciting.

Her heart was aching for Rory. It was one of the only times she ever wished she had someone to lean on when she felt so broken. She knew if she called Harry he would come running over and he would help with whatever she asked. It seemed so unfair to ask him for help. She had done it all on her own until Harry arrived in the neighborhood.

But would it be so bad to ask Harry for help? He was perfect in every way and obviously adored Rory. She had no doubt Rory would be a priority in Harry’s life too. If he wanted it, who was she to deny him of it?

“Mumma, I don’t feel good,” Rory mumbled. It broke her thoughts of Harry. She wished they didn’t because she was about to plan an apology that Harry deserved and she prayed he would accept. If he didn’t, she would understand. Only an idiot would let someone like Harry slip out of their life and she was the front runner for the village idiot.

But when she looked at Rory her heart broke again. He coughed once more shaking his little body, and she had enough. “Okay, baby we’re going to go to the doctor’s again,” she murmured scooping him into her arms. He was getting bigger and that also broke her heart. It wasn’t the time, but it was all she could think about. But he was sick and still so little. Stuffing her feet into the sneakers that were at the door not letting Rory out of her arms for a moment, she then wrapped his coat and a blanket around him because it was naturally raining and raining hard. Scurrying to her car she settled him into the back on his car seat. He coughed again, right in her neck, and groaned. “I know, baby, I know,” she sighed.

Getting into the front seat she turned the key.

Click.

Surely this was a dream. “No, no, no,” she said smacking the steering wheel. “Please, please, please,” she begged.

Click.

“Goddammit!” She hissed under her breath smacking the wheel.

“Mumma?” Rory whined.

“Yes, baby?”

“My tummy hurts,” he said.

“I know, Rory, I’m sorry. I’m...” she felt tears of frustration start behind her eyes and she thought about just running with Rory in her arms all the way to the hospital. But she did have one other option. Before she could process her own idea, her phone was pressed to her ear, she called Harry. Her heart was racing. He didn’t answer.

“Fuck,” she croaked again. It was late of course he wouldn’t hear it. Normally, Rory would giggle out that was a bad word, but he just stayed silent, turning red, hot, and more sick by the second. “C’mon,” she said quickly and retrieved him from the backseat. She hurried across the street and started banging on the door.

Harry startled awake to the sound of his phone vibrating incessantly; nearly falling off on his nightstand paired with an incessant banging that he couldn’t fully understand where it was coming from because his brain was still sleeping. He couldn’t even make out the name on his screen because his brain was still fuzzy, and his heart was slowly working up to regular speed. He felt shocked as he answered tiredly. His brain only worked at the quarter of his normal speed. He cleared his throat, eyes still closed. “’Lo?”

“Harry, please come open the door. Please, please, please,” he had never heard anyone sound so desperate and terrified in his whole life. His eyes opened as if they were spring loaded. He was sure he looked like a horror film. But now his heart was racing further.

“Yeah, yeah, love. Hold on,” trying to shake the sleep from his brain. The distress in her voice made him want to fly down the stairs and he nearly yanked the door off the hinges. He only had seconds to make sense of what was happening but all he could think about was someone hurting her or Rory and how he would do anything to make sure they were both safe. The last few weeks meant nothing. There wasn’t time to qualm about it.

She was clutching Rory to her body; her face was in absolute anguish and Harry was in awe that she could even stand with the weight of whatever she was carrying mentally in addition to Rory. Harry was flicking his eyes back from her to Rory. His chest ached almost as much as hers at the sight of Rory: pale, cheeks pink, and covered in spots. “Something’s wrong with Rory, my car won’t start. Can you drive us to the hospital?” She rushed out her eyes so pleading Harry could have cried.

“Shit. Yeah, yeah, of course.”

Harry grabbed a pair of shoes and coat by the door. Didn’t even put them on and ushered the pair of them to his car in the soaking rain. She slid into the back with Rory cradled in her arms. Harry was terrified. “Mumma, it hurts,” Rory mumbled. His quiet voice, nearly devoid of emotion, made Harry weak, and he pressed his foot further onto the gas pedal wishing it wasn’t raining so he could speed the way he wanted to all the way to the hospital.

“I know baby, I know,” she whispered soothingly.

Harry struggled to put his shoes and coat on as they ran inside to the emergency room. He knew they must have looked insane. She felt insane as she told them he was sick and all the things she had done since the onset of him feeling unwell. They eyed her suspiciously and then her son but of course took the boy and ushered her and Harry to the waiting room.

They ran more tests and while they did, she began pacing, staring at her phone, tapping on the screen as she searched and scoured the internet for something that could help. “Love, I know you want to help, but googling won’t do anything but make you worry.”

“Harry, something is wrong with him,” she said as if he didn’t know why they were there. She could feel the anger projecting onto Harry and she hated it—it wasn’t Harry’s fault she was mad and scared.

But of course, Harry was perfect and didn’t mind her anger was geared toward him in the moment. “I know, love, I know,” he said almost defensively. Harry was also scraping his mind for ideas of what could have happened to the poor boy. His leg bouncing rapidly in anxiousness. “I jus’ don’t want you t’worry unless there is something t’worry about,” he promised.

She sighed out an apologetic breath in his direction and kept her nose glued to her phone continuing her search.

Fortunately, the medical professionals returned shortly thereafter; her phone slid into her pocket and she stood up anxiously but hopeful. She looked at them expectantly awaiting a cure-all for her poor little boy. Somehow she missed it; probably the lack of sleep making her less aware than normal...but Harry could see it in their eyes. They were going to break her heart. “It’s just strep, ma’am.”

She shook her head, her face crumpling in pain that existed in someone else’s body. “No,” Harry could see the torment coursing in her own body. She looked like she was going to collapse. Harry took that moment to stand closer to her. The back of his hand touched hers. She leaned towards him almost instinctively. He took this as his signal to press her against his body. He wasn’t going to let her down. He would never let her collapse. His own heart was racing in fear that the poor little kid was sick as hell. Harry had never seen a child so run down. He felt bad for his mum in that moment—all those times he didn’t feel well, and she had to go through feeling like this. Rory was obviously not his own, but he was prepared to donate every last drop of his blood to the sweet kid if it meant he would feel better and be cured.

“I know when your baby is sick—” The doctor began.

She pressed her fingers to her temples shaking her head, rapidly.

“No, no, no... you don’t know. You don’t understand. This is not me being a crazy mom. I know I sound like a crazy mom. This isn’t that. I know my baby. Something is wrong with him. There is something wrong with him and I’m not leaving until something is done!” She was all but shouting and Harry put a hand on her back.  She started to march over to the waiting area again, she began pacing once more. Harry felt helpless looking at her from where the healthcare stood back to her. They discreetly called for a psychologist while continued Googling her little heart out. Harry felt his head snap defensively at their words as a woman picked up a phone at the desk. Harry would not let them talk about her when she was merely feet away.

“Excuse me,” he murmured at the counter blocking their view of her, but more importantly, her view of them.

“Sir,” the nurse behind the desk started; phone to hear ear.

Harry shook his head, not moving his gaze from her eyes. “I know you’re calling for a psychologist,” he said quietly avoiding raising the tone of his voice at all so she couldn’t hear. They faltered for a moment. He could see their surprised look; how could Harry possibly know that? He narrowed his eyes at the woman on the phone as the voice at the other end began to speak. He pulled his ID that resided in his coat pocket for home visits; he was lucky he didn’t take it out. They looked over his credentials and then back to Harry. “She doesn’t need that,” he shook his head stating it firmly.

She glanced over at Harry at the counter curious what they could be talking about. “Harry?”

“Just a moment, love,” he said to her not moving his gaze from the woman waiting to speak into the receiver.

“Mr. Styles, surely you understand that from lack of sleep and—” The doctor began.

Harry shook his head. “She is fine,” he repeated. “You need to fix her son.”

Harry knew they still didn’t believe him. She was soaking wet and wearing two different sneakers from leaving in such a hurry. They looked at Harry pleadingly, as if he would suddenly change his mind because they were both medical professionals. He denied their silent pleas. He refused to aid them in ignoring her maternal instinct. He knew she wasn’t crazy. Crazy people didn’t wake up their neighbors they were no longer speaking to in the middle of the night. Harry knew she wished it was strep. Strep would be getting better and she would be calmer.

“Harry?” She asked again coming over to the counter. The doctor took his chance once more as the nurse hung up the phone.

“Ma’am...it’s—”

“I swear to God, if you say it’s strep, one more time, I will respectfully throw your tablet,” that wasn’t helping Harry’s sanity case, but it wasn’t uncalled for in his eyes. “If it was strep, I would have it by now! That kid threw up, coughed on, and drooled all over me. It’s not strep! He’s not responding to the antibiotic.”

There was a second doctor that overheard her rising tone and joined in the little circle of trying to maintain calmness. “Ma’am, we’ve run every test.”

“Run them again. It’s not strep!”

“Ma’am, we can’t just—"

“Love,” Harry whispered under his breath trying to keep her level. He believed her of course, but he didn’t want her to get tossed aside because she was scared. The arguing was reaching near hysterics. It was getting past midnight and she was not crazy, but she was close to losing her mind. Harry couldn’t keep her calmer much longer even if he wanted to—he wanted Rory to be tested again just as much as she did. She started pacing again as she scans her phone.

They list through the symptoms and options of what is wrong with him. She kept repeating ‘no’ like a mantra as she read on her phone. Yes, all of the symptoms sounded like strep. Maybe it was tonsilitis, they could send her home with yet another antibiotic. They looked at Harry again pleadingly, but his eyes didn’t stray from her. He was getting increasingly worried about her; he wanted her to be okay just as much as he wanted Rory to be alright.

“Kawasaki disease,” she said suddenly. Holding her phone out to them as proof.

“He doesn’t have the strawberry tongue or any other earmarks—”

Phone back to her face and she slid the screen further. Her eyes were desperate, tears forming in the corners. The doctors clearly wanted to throw away her phone as much as she wanted to throw away their tablet.

“Rocky mountain spotted fever. We went for a beach walk in the dunes over a week ago,” she said and looked at them pleadingly. It was one of the illnesses listed it was nearly impossible. But this was impossible, and she was exhausted. And she had to try.

The doctor shook his head moving her phone screen up a bit as he read. “They’re not in these parts and he would have blackened crusted skin around a bite.”

Desperate once more, she marched into his little cubicle around the corner. The nurse standing by moved out of the way quickly as she yanked the sticker monitors off his skin, pulled the finger monitor off, untied the little gown off his body. Alarms beeped behind her as her eyes started scanning his body. How could she have missed a bite? How could she not have checked for tick bites? This was all her fault. Every second of it.

“Fuck,” she whimpered as she continued scanning, she didn’t see anything on him, and with each scan of his skin she felt more and more hopeless. Surely, she would be sedated in a matter of moments if she didn’t find something—she was certain that was the protocol, and she couldn’t help but start to think they were right through all her exhaustion. Tears were clouding her eyes and she could hardly see his skin through her blurred vision. “Harry, help me,” she begged, her voice cracking violently.

Harry didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed Rory beneath his arms, holding his sick little body up while she examined more of his skin. Harry let her. He would do anything to help her. He saw the panic on her face. He knew she didn’t want to be right, but she knew it was the only thing that was going to keep Rory from being sent home without treatment and without her being admitted to a psych ward.

“Ma’am,” they started. “We already looked over his whole body and we didn’t find anything...we can prescribe a different antibiotic if the treatment continues to be ineff—”

She was still scanning, ignoring the words that were coming from the medical professionals. Harry felt helpless. Totally helpless as he held his limp, tired little body. She maneuvered his limbs every which way. Please find something. He silently begged.

Finally, she lifted his hair up and started searching along his scalp. She gasped, covered her mouth, as tears dropped down her cheeks. “Like this?” She croaked. The doctor stepped over, and examined the black, scaly spot silently.

There was a moment of nothing but hospital beeps and quiet breathing. She waited expectantly, her eyes moving from Rory’s scalp, then to the doctor, to Harry holding Rory’s tired little body.

“We need more scans,” and then suddenly, finally, there was a call of a series of actions, and once more they whisked the little boy away on a gurney and moved swiftly down the hall.

“We’ll be right back,” the older female nurse promised. She was the one standing by when they entered Rory’s cubicle. Harry noted, now that the excitement is over, that she was the only person who wasn’t staring at the sweet girl as if she was insane. “You did great, Mom,” she praised, squeezed her arm reassuringly. “Good catch. He’ll be fine,” her smile was so kind it melted the anxious girl.

She paced the floor a few times as she started to cry harder again, hand over her heart and her breathing was so uneven, Harry actually worried she was having a cardiac episode. “Harry,” she croaked eventually. Harry pulled her to his body. His chin on top of her head. She shook with cries and Harry gently rocked her. Kissed the top of her head.

“S’okay. S’okay,” he promised rubbing her back. “You did it, love. You figured it out.”

“M’sorry. M’so sorry I cut you out and that was so stupid and you didn’t have to be so nice and take us here and watch me be insane—"

“No, beautiful. S’okay. Don’t worry about that, you’re forgiven, of course. Completely. S’okay,” he promised squeezing her as close as he could trying to keep her together when she was falling apart.

They were silent. Harry held her close to his chest, combed her hair down not moving except for a gentle sway of their bodies in the middle of the hospital hallway. Harry let her cry and he held her as tightly as he could. He hated why he was holding her, the idea of something happening to Rory made him want to kill someone, himself. But he was so grateful to hold her.

“Mr. and Mrs. Styles?”

“Oh, um...no—” Harry started feeling his face warm as he turned to the doctors to correct them. His hand stayed protectively on her lower back, and she leaned against him once more as if she would fall without Harry behind her. With one hand she wiped her eyes and then with the other grabbed Harry’s free hand as tightly as possible. Anchoring herself.

“How is Rory?” she asked, didn’t even bother to correct them at all. The moment wasn’t lost on Harry, but it did move to the back of his mind because Rory was of course more pressing.

“He’s going to be fine. He’s already responding to treatment.”

Harry felt the air fall from her body as if she released the weight of the world off her back. “Can we see him?”

We. Harry melted more.

“Of course,” he gestured to the room.

She hurried from Harry’s side, pulling his hand with her. “Hey Rory, love bug,” she cooed, cupping his face, and rubbing her thumb over his round little cheek.

“Mommy?” He asked wearily.

“Hi baby, how are you feeling now?”

“Hungry,” he sounded sleepy.

She giggled with a teary smile. “Yeah? Let’s get you some food...did you see Harry is here?”

“Hi, Rory,” Harry waved with a grin. “Feeling better?” Rory blearily looked at Harry for a few moments. He didn’t say anything to Harry and for a second, Harry selfishly worried it was too late. That time apart from him, despite all his best efforts to assure Rory he would always be there, was too much for his little heart. Harry betrayed his trust, and it wouldn’t be the same.

“Mommy?” He finally turned his gaze from Harry. It made his stomach churn fearing the rejection of a five- year-old—the only one that mattered. If there was no Rory, there would be no her.

“Yes, my love?” Her eyebrows pinched together because she had never seen Rory act so weird toward Harry. Even when she was doing everything in her power to keep him away. It made her stomach flutter with nervousness as well...unaware that Harry felt the same way.

“Can we be friends with Harry again?” He asked looking back at Harry nervously.

The smile nearly broke Harry’s face in half. He chuckled quietly while she also sighed with relieved giggles. Nodding, she squeezed Rory’s hand. “Yes, baby. We’re going to be best friends. Would you like that?”

He nodded then looked at Harry and smiled his sweet little grin. “Can we have s’mores when we get home?”

“S’more what, lad?”

Rory giggled the sweetest little giggle. “Don’t be silly, Harry.”

*

She held him in the back seat because they still didn’t have a car seat and it was still dark as ever outside as it neared four-thirty in the morning. Harry parked in her driveway, hurried to the door to open it, and pulled Rory into his arms. “I got him, love. You’ve carried him enough tonight,” he murmured. The tiredness was finally catching up to her and she let Harry pull him from her arms. Unlocking the door, she let the three of them in the house and Harry carried the sleeping boy to his room. She pulled his covers down so Harry could settle him in. Once all snuggled up, she kissed his forehead and sighed with relief as he slept soundly. Harry ruffled his hair gently. They left his room, and she closed the door quietly.

They walked wordlessly to the living room, and she sat on the couch leaning back against the cushions and staring at the ceiling blinking rapidly against more tears that were threatening to form. Harry sat beside her, so close he could feel the heat of her leg next to his. He wanted to reach out and touch her face, wipe that tear away that slid down her cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For driving...for staying...for...” she shook her head. “Everything, Harry. Thank you,” it was so much undeserved gratitude. As if Harry wouldn’t reach into his chest at any moment and yank his heart out for her if she asked for it.

“Kitten...’course. Y’did all the heavy lifting,” he said and reached out to squeeze her knee. Her lower lip trembled violently, a sob threatening to bubble out of her chest which seemed so ridiculous now that all the danger was gone. The night must have been catching up to her all at once because at that moment she was crying soundlessly. Her chest aching and she started sniffling, she pressed a finger to her lips. “That was really scary,” she heaved.

“It was,” he nodded in agreement, his heart aching for her sadness, and nervousness. He watched her swallow around the pain that she was finally feeling of not knowing what would happen.

“I wouldn’t...if you weren’t...if you...if Rory—”

“Hey,” he said grabbing her hand from her mouth and bringing it to his own. He pressed a kiss to her knuckles so gently, it hurt her nearly broken heart all over again. He enjoyed the feel of her skin touching his lips and he pulled her up to a sitting position. He cupped her face with his other hand and rubbed his thumb along her cheekbone. “M’here,” he promised. “Always. For both of you.” She looked so nervous; her lip still wobbled. “What, beautiful? What’s wrong, love?” His eyebrows pinched together worried that she was going to have a breakdown that she couldn’t have before in the hospital.

She was still wearing two different sneakers and Harry was still in his coat. If she had time to worry about her appearance, she would have thought about how stringy her hair looked from the soaking rain and how her eyes had to be red from a lack of sleep and all the crying.

“M’so in love with you,” she croaked. Harry felt his heart warm every crevice of his body. He imagined hearing those words from the moment he met her and missed the idea of them when she wasn’t speaking to him. He thought he would melt into a puddle. “I can’t be,” she admitted and Harry felt ice brick over his veins. “I have a son and he is going to be first for the rest of my life and I want to put you first and you don’t deserve that. You deserve someone who will love you and put you—”

The relief Harry felt in her explanation melted the ice threatening his veins all over again. An exhausted smile played at the corner of his lips. He shook his head as she spoke, not even listening to the rest of her sentence. “Kitten,” he said taking both sides of her face and bringing it closer to his. The tip of his nose bumped hers. “I love Rory. And I love you. ‘Course, we’re going t’put Rory first. S’why you’re the best mum in the world. But jus’ because he’s first doesn’t mean you don’t deserve a love of your own,” he told her.

Harry was worried she was so tired she didn’t actually hear him. “...We?” She whispered eventually. The tears were still falling. She felt broken. Felt entirely too vulnerable with someone she’s known for too long. With someone she shouldn’t feel vulnerable around. But the last time she was this vulnerable with someone she loved so much, it was thrown in her face, and she was left alone on a couch just like this.

Harry tilted his head at her looking at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. “Always, beautiful.”

“You love me?” She whispered. Harry nodded silently.

“So much,” he said.

“Really?”

“Truly.”

She wasn’t proud of the way she contorted herself in that moment, throwing herself at him like a teenager and not a twenty-seven-year-old mother of a kindergartner and kissing him like she had been dreaming about kissing him.

But Harry was too long gone to care and enjoyed the moment of utter bliss in kissing the sweet woman he adored for the last few years while her son slept healthily and happily in his bed upstairs.

--

@claimingharrystigertattoo @mopeymousey @vmpellie @reveriehs

[elimoskowitzs-wife]

Hawk x fem!keene reader

Warnings- underage drinking, crying, kissing, self harming, mentions of being sick, I'd say it's angsty

It was aisha party and everyone was drinking you walked from hawk to get a Mr pibbs and walked to your other friend Demitri

'for once I like a party' you chuckled at the tall brown haired boy 'good you should be keene you can't keep avoiding them' demitri said and you rolled your eyes sipping from the Mr pibbs bottle

You stumbled because you was tipsy and Demitri caught you

Hawk saw the way you smiled and thought you was flirting

You took the last Mr pibbs and shortly after Miguel walked over looking in the cooler 'sorry I got the last Mr pibbs' you said to the curly haired boy

He got a different beer and walked off until you chased him 'Miguel is it Sam you've been so off today' you say

Miguel nodded and you tried comforting him when you felt a large hand on your shoulder it was demitris

'yn don't look over there' Miguel saw over demitris shoulder moon and hawk making out

You ignored and looked over seeing the boy that had called you babe and baby all day and the boy you kissed not even two days ago kissing making out with his old bully

Your heart skipped a beat as you dropped your beer into the sand tears pricking at your eyes 'I'm gonna walk home I'll see you guys at school' you finally got words out

'yn you can't walk over to the other side of reseda' Miguel tried to stop you but you was running off the beach tears spilling out your eyes

Demitri walked over to hawk after moon walked to Yasmine 'what are you doing hawk' demitri exclaimed 'what dose it look like' hawk scoffed 'pulling yns heart out and crushing it into millions of pieces she loved you' hawks eyes scanned out looking for you but you was gone

You stumbled into your house and got some vodka more than one bottle and sat drinking it out the bottle

Your brother walked in stopping you but you continued he then finally got you to stop and walked you in your room

The next morning robby woke up to you throwing up and he wasn't letting you go toi school

It was days after the party everyone checked your Instagram and the last thing you posted was you drinking at the party

Then you missed the extremely important test that's what worried everyone the most

Hawk walked to yours after school hesitating to knock on the door but when he did you answered and went to shut the door but he put his foot in the way

'let me explain please I can't loose you yn your my world I love you' he said and you looked at him at the last 3 words you pulled your sleeves down on your hoodie because skin was exposing

'fuuuuck I'm so sorry I made you do it again I was jelous and you probably hate me and I understand why' until you pressed soft lips to his scar 'you don't hate me' he stuttered out

'no dummy I was just hurt because I'm not as pretty as moon and knew I didn't have a shot' you looked at him

Hawks pov

I saw Demitri hugging yn I should've known he had a thing for her maybe he didn't

Moon used to bully me but I was jelous that Demitri moved in on the Ive crushed on for years so as soon as moon walked over and she was flirting with me I placed my red solo cup on the sand as she kissed me my hand was under her chin

When moon walked away to Yasmine Demitri came to me

'what are you doing' demitri shouted at me 'what dose it look like' I scoffed at him 'pulling yns heart out and shredding it to peices she loves you' demitri shook his head at me as I looked over the beach and didn't see her I fucked up

I kept messaging her hoping for a reply but I just kept getting left on opened

Yn I'm sorry I thought you and Demitri was flirting so I kissed moon I didn't mean it yn please -opened 5 minutes ago-

I flopped on my bed I messed up bad ill speak to her at school tomorrow

That idea flopped she wasn't in fuck what have I done

The next day yn missed the test it worried us all she was on about this for months I went to her apartment after school hesitating to knock but I did she answered going to shut the door but i stopped it with my foot

'let me explain please I can't loos you your my whole world I love you' the last 3 words slipped out but they was true. Yn looked at me pulling her sleeves down I stared at her in sorrow when I saw a few red marks on her arms

'fuuuuck I'm so sorry I made you do it again I was jelous I know you probably hate me' she cut me off with a soft and gentle kiss 'you don't hate me' I stuttered

'no dummy I was hurt because I'm not as pretty as moon and knew I didn't have a shot' she looked up at me with her doe eyes

'oh yn your more than pretty' I hugged her

We laid in her room and fell asleep my arms around her and her arms around me with Dr who in the background

[randomfoggytiger]

Forever amazed by the amount of content you have created for the fandom in what feels like such a short amount of time! Thank you for helping keep this show alive!! What are the analyses/fics/lists that you are most proud of/pleased with that you've done?

Thank you! That compliment means the world. :DDDD

Couldn't pick one, but tried to keep things simple.

FIC LISTS

One doesn't stand apart from the rest, but Fics That Deserve More Comments (Part I)-- and Fics That Deserve More Comments (Part II) and Fics That Deserve More Comments (Part III) and Fics that Deserve More Comments (Part IV)-- is my favorite conceit.

FICS

I'll never forget the outpouring of love for my first fic Son of Egypt, so that is definitely on the list. Runner up is "The Dead Are Everywhere, Scully"; but I'm unutterably proud of both.

I also treasure all of my Fictober Wrap Up and Eight Nights of Mulder Master List fics (except the last one for 8NoM.)

Chariots of Fire  makes me chuckle.

The Bill Scully POV fics were a way to flex the nuances of his character. (They can be found through the Bill Scully POV tag.)

Fics outta my comfort zone that I'm proud of: "Kids Today, Huh?", The Hospital Where You Slept, and "I Know You. It’s What I Do."

META

I'm most proud of All IVF Roads Lead Away from The Unnatural and to Millennium, Fire and False Romance, Ice and Love, and How Scully Taught Mulder to Hug because they got the most traction.

In love with? Today: 1. "Proving" Mulder Knew He Was the Father of Scully's Baby, 2. Scully Is the Conduit Conductor and Mulder Is the Dancer, 3. Mulder Is a Brooder; and Scully Is His Concluder, 4. One Son: An Intense, One-Shot Analysis of “You’re Making This Personal”, 5. Never Again: An Intensive Essay and 6. The Mulder Family In-Depth. Also: anything Season 8 or Arcadia.

XF MUSICALS/FANVIDS

These are my passion projects, I admit.

TINH: Scully’s Solo, S2 Abduction: Mulder’s Torment, Drivin’ Right Along, CSM and Diana: The Riddle, and Milagro: Hellfire have my heart.

Others that make me equally proud: 1. Syzygy: Everything You Can Do I Can Do Better, 2. Mulder and Samantha: Miracle of Miracles, 3. Amor Fati: If I Never Knew You, 4. The Mulders: Sunrise, Sunset, 5. Monday: There’s Always Tomorrow, and 6. Memento Mori: I Bring You a Song.

PERSONALITY TYPING

I'm super, duper proud of MULDER, The Spooky INTP and SCULLY, The Enigmatic ISTJ (which I then applied to Mulder and Scully: Love and Touch for INTPs/ISTJs, and an analysis of One Son-- Part I and Part II-- and Never Again.)

OFF-SHOOTS

My "live-blog" reacts to Return to Me (from the POV of Someone Averse to RomComs) and IWTB (Losing My Mind) crack me up.

Did a few Personality Typing posts for Hank Moody and other movies (Return to Me, Bringing Up Baby, and What Happens Later.)

Lastly, David Duchovny’s Face: an Aesthetics Study got me hooked on exploring fashion-- Seasonal Color analysis, body types, essences, etc.-- through the lens of David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson. (You can find those posts through the randomfashiontiger tag.)

CONCLUSION

Thank you for making me feel special this weekend~. :))))))

[sinon36]

Ghost x undercover!reader (HC) Part V

warnings: violence, blood, mistakes, badly written British speech, I got some inspiration from The Rookie for the undercover part

P.S. I wrote all day and now as I post this it's 2.30 a.m. and I'm too tired. I'll make links and all the other things work tomorrow. I'm thinking of adding one more part.

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI

- the fifth time you meet it’s at the shooting range on site

- Price informs you that the TF 141’s crew likes to challenge each other for the title of the best marksman and you’re invited to participate as a guest to help you bond better with one another, and indirectly and subtly gauge your skill in action, as you’ve deduced; you surprise them with the affirmation; you’d like to point out that underestimating you, will be their mistake, but you refrain from doing so basking in the advantage you have over them

- you don’t make the winning title; you knew you wouldn’t; that title is always disputed between Ghost and Soap; but you do make a good impression; though you avoid having to get in a shootout on missions, knowing there’s more risks than worth the trouble, your aim is excellent; you can hit a target both stationary and mobile targets at various distances; not many can manage the feat, but you take training seriously, always in competition with yourselves, not others; being focused on self growth is one of your unspoken passions; you take interest in anything and everything that presents benefits to being a better undercover agent

- the final round is a battle between the grumpy British and the jesting Scott; it’s a close score, but Ghost comes out victorious; your heart flutters as he turns to you making eye contact; brown eyes scan your face for any sign of emotion; but you don’t play his game; you turn around without another word or reaction, on your way to getting back to your work;

- unbeknownst to you, Ghost watches your departing figure like a hawk, action which the rest of his teammates take notice of; ‘Dowie ye coudnae impress th' bonny lassie, Lt.?’ the Scott chuckles at his own words; Price has to intervene before Ghost can reduce the numbers of members the 141 has

- your preparations include finding an outfit that’ll catch the attention of that lewd middle aged fucker; and there is no person more suitable for that than Soap; you ask the captain to lend you Soap and a car to take to the town next over where you know you’ll find a dress shop; he agrees without qualms, knowing it isn’t a joyride but an important errand for the mission; he doesn’t have to know that the two of you had fun, caving ang giving in to gossip like school girls; you talked about anything and everything; Soap is awfully curious about your work, asking you to describe methods and procedures; you indulge him with the promise that he’ll help you pick a dress and shoes; he can’t say no as he gets too ogle at you trying on different dresses that hug your form perfectly and expose all the right parts of you, attracting the attention there;

- ‘Bein’ an undercover agent is similar to being an actor or actress. The only difference is that you might get killed or worse if you forget your lines.’ You synthesize trying on a fitted red dress that shows just enough cleavage and is long enough that you don’t have to worry that your behind will get exposed with wrong move; you and Soap decide that this one is the perfect one, paired with black stilettos; with a bit of makeup and a blow out you’ll look better than most models, as per Soap’s opinion; you agree without a smidge of modesty

- everything in place by the time you have to roll out and begin the mission

- you book a room at hotel that’s close enough to the club your target like to frequent; the plan is simple, seduce him and bring him to the room where the TF 141 will be waiting, ready for some not so pleasant information extraction

- everything goes smoothly; you manage to catch his attention the moment you walk up to the bar passed the VIP lounge area; he flies like a moth to the flame ignorant of his own demise; with his capture your fist phase of the mission is done; now comes the harder part

- you teach Soap how to be an undercover agent; he’s quite good at it, just as you anticipated it; you teach him all the important stuff and go over so many scenarios that he must be prepared to face; you teach him how to cover his tattoo seamlessly, with waterproof foundation; all goes smoothly

- ‘You’ll let me do the talking, as I’ll play your employer. Remember, you’re my bodyguard. If I die you won’t get paid. It’s ok to show concern for my safety but don’t make it emotional. You can’t be attached to me in there. You don’t know me like that in character. Rule goes if I’m dead or captured you save yourself, no questions asked. You can figure later wat to do, once you’re safe. You don’t panic, no matter what. Keep it cool, it makes it easier to find on the spot decisions. Remember, it doesn’t have to be perfect, it has to be credible. Ignore any comments and insults, but never back down from a confrontation. Shew ‘em you’re strong, dangerous if needed, ready to fight if necessary. But don’t provoke. Confrontations mean unnecessary risks. We need those. And if the situation goes to shite we pull out. Mission can get fucked; our lives matter more. Understood?’

- ‘Yes ma’am.’ And with that the undercover boot camp is over; ‘Get as much rest as possible. Out there you’ll be on high alert every moment. It’s not the same as on the battlefield where you worry about where the enemy is shooting. Here you must fool the enemy, get them to trust you, to accept you as one of them. You’ll have to worry about your words and gesture. The smallest flinch can trigger a chain of events that’ll get you killed.’

- ‘Got it. No flinchin’’he ads in jest; you know he’s smart enough to understand the dangers and not take anything lightly; but this is his way to cope with the stress; you allow it

- you establish your identities; you are the chemistry student that cracked under the pressure of debt, and took to the streets to cook; you’ve got experience and you can prove it; your notoriety already out on the streets through well placed rumours

- he’s your back up; freshly out prison, you’ve got inmates wrapped around your little finger ready to attest to that; he did time for arms deal and an armed bank robbery that ended with an IED explosion; he knows how to build them how to make them work; he’s a professional; learned from his grampa who served in the IIWW; he’s your bodyguard; his job is to keep you safe, no matter what; his nickname: Scotty, for obvious reasons

- the plan is sound now let’s see the execution; you get approached by one of the cartel lieutenants one day in broad daylight; he proposes to you a meet-up with the boss where you can prove you’ve got skills; you accept on the condition that your bodyguard stays at your side through it all; he accepts; the day comes where you two are picked up and taken to your audience with boss; he asks you live proof and you cook for him, fast, efficient and professionally; you obtain fentanyl with a purity of 98%; highest there is; he’s impressed; but he asks Scotty to step outside with his own bodyguards and let you finish the details of the deal; a matter of security, he’d argument; the fewer that know the better

- you agree and give Soap the order to go and wait for you outside office; he’s hesitant but obeys; good boy you mentally praise him

- but once your left alone the real test begins; he grabs your hand and pulls you flat against the desk, a gun to your head; you’ve been in this situation before so you don’t lose your cool, but on the outside you play the scared woman cornered by her would be killer; you know Ghost watches through the scope from the next building’s rooftop eager to drop him at your sign; Price and Gaz are on the roof waiting for a sign to breach through the windows; but the goal isn’t killing him; the goal is using him to catch a bigger fish; so you play your part begging and swearing up and down you’re not an infiltrator; Soap can hear your distress through the door but he doesn’t do more than threat the guards; ‘If mah client dies ye'r a' deid. Git it?' they share a look and nod in apprehension; he stays put

- ‘It’s all a show, Soap. If you don’t hear the catch phrase then you needn’t worry about me. I can handle my fare share of assholes.’ He trusts you know what you’re doing

- crying you get the drug lord to believe you; you show weakness and he soaks in it; men are easy to manipulate once they think they’re in control; he lets go you run out the door and get Scotty to get you out of there; once in your hotel room you both exhale in relief; you did good work an it worked seamlessly;

- phase three consists on working for the drug lord, getting him to open up to you; it allows you to point out Scotty’s skill; he considers it and then takes the bait making him his assistant in the arms deal related problems; Scotty gives good advice; he gains more trust; and with that comes the biggest opportunity: getting access to their computers; he instals a remote backdoor and boom: Laswell has know access to everything; she finds the location, date and time of the RV where the next deal will be negotiated with the head of the terrorist cell; everything works like a well oiled machine; this triggers the final phase

- phase four, affectionately called The Take Down begins immediately; Laswell sends Price back up, highly trained marines; they strike at right moment; you and Soap are present for the whole ordeal; it’s a bloodbath really; both the cartel and the terror cell gets annihilated; you get out without a single scrape; you laugh once more as lucks favours you again

- after the mission you all spend the evening at the bar; Laswell joins you in spirit being stuck over the pond at the CIA HQ, debriefing a plethora of generals and other higher ups of your success; you on the other hand relax over a few drinks; nothing too wild; just a quick celebration to let your hair down

- you step outside for a smoke; Ghost joins you; you sit in silence until you voice the question that has plagued your mind for months now; ‘What did ya mean by that?’ he stays silent, fretting, searching for the right words

- ‘Ya saved me arse.’ He settles on the crude phrasing; you’re confused; ‘Care to remind me how?’ more silence; he sighs; ‘Ya dragged me outta that facility. With y’r pretty little handsies and body half me size. Ya made quite the impression on me.’

- realisation hits you as you make eye contact; brown orbs stare into yours filled with admiration and something more; something you can’t quite put your finger on; you blush and look away; fuck

- you stay silent; but then you make a mindless admission: ‘I made the right decision that day.’ ‘That, ya did, love.’

- the following day you make another decision; instead of going back to HQ, you ask Price for a private meeting; he agrees believing you want to request escort back; you don’t; you tell him you made your mind; ‘Y’r mind about what, agent?’ without a beat you voice your choice: ‘I wanna stay, indefinitely.’ He eyes you up and down not really believing his ears; any person in their right-mind would take that golden ticket and get as far from the front lines; but you’re not; you’re bonkers; the sergeants were right; but he can’t stop you; that golden ticket guarantees you an open seat in any branch

-  he doesn’t admit but he’s pleased with your choice to join his task force; you’re one of the best and he’s got an eye out for those, like a collector; he’s only a bit worried about your bond with Ghost; he hopes it won’t end up in disaster; but he trusts your professionalism and moral code to do what’s best for the world above all

Previous part here.

Next part here.

[sugar-omi]

Okay so we've had leaving Cove for Baxter but what about an uno reverse card here? A post step 4 scenario where MC leaves Baxter and figures out they've always loved Cove?

P.S. Love, love, live your writing!!!

im so glad you sent this!! tysm for the praise<333 i feel like this could relate to this: question abt the reverse also i didn't think abt it then, n maybe i said this but to finish that thought. (eta now that ive linked it, BABE U LITERALLY RAMBLED STFU<///3) but baxter accepts your feelings bc he's desperate for love and he's pined after you for years. ALTHOUGH if i were to write it canonically, he would be so offended that you'd even bother and encourage you to leave cove before you hurt him. cove would do the same, if you confess to him he would Instantly lose all respect n interest in you and would all but spit at you if you did BAXTER WOULD ACTUALLY CALL YOU DISGUSTING AS WELL... i like to imagine cove would bc yk, i like the parallel, but he wouldn't and he'd prbly go "is that what you think of me?" bc he'd feel like a piece of meat in that situation

tags : Angst (w happy ending for you), Hurt/Comfort, breaking up w baxter, unrequited to requited love, falling out of love w baxter

synopsis : you break up with baxter because you realize you don't love him anymore. then you realize someone else is piquing your interest...

baxter is surprised, but he also expected this...

lately you'd been pulling away, and you've been lost in thought. and he's walked in on you crying a few times and you didn't want to explain to him why.

he feels his blood go cold, and he feels pressure wash over him.. he tries not to cry or choke up when he speaks.

he has to act like a gentleman. he needs to be understanding. he needs to be the strong one because you're sitting on the floor and crying, apologizing and hiding your face in your hands.

your sobs and shaky form hurts him more. he knows it's not your fault. it's his, in all honesty.

he left you so cruelly 5 years ago, and even though you've been together for a year and shared many happy moments with hushed giggles and loving kisses, you couldn't find the same love for him as when you were young.

baxter tries not beat himself up, pushing down his darker minds degrading chorus...

he puts a hand on your head, smoothing his palm over his pants. his palm hurts from digging his nails into it.

tonight is going to be rough. tomorrow will be harder.

"it's okay y/n. we had a good time together right?" baxter smiles. although the thickness of his voice makes you tuck in on yourself more.

he continues soothing you, ignoring the tears in his eyes. "i understand... we're so different now, it's not surprising it didn't work."

baxter's humorless and watery laugh makes you cry more, and you know he's crying now too. "we should stop looking back on the past now." baxter pets your head, trying to milk the last bit of affection from your dying relationship.

he feels like his world is opening up.

you turn your face away and wipe roughly at your tears. you know you look like a mess, but you feel so overwhelmed, and you have enough shame to not want to face baxter.

you finally look up at him, baxter lifting his gaze from his knees to look at you, glazed amber staring back at you. your heart clenches.

even though you don't love him the same way anymore, this kills you all the same.

"i'll... get my stuff tomorrow." you whisper.

cove was torn when you got with baxter.

he's always loved you, and when you still pined for baxter even after that summer, he got accustomed to putting his feelings aside to let your relationship grow.

but now you were sitting on his couch, looking distant at his fish tank.

your eyes were blurred with tears, and it took everything to curl yourself into the corner of the couch.

"y/n?..."

...

cove goes to call out again- "yeah?" you mutter, your words tiny and soft. weak. forced.

"what can i do for you?" cove wanted to gather up all your pain and take it away. so that the only thing left was for you to be happy.

...

you lick your lips, fixing your feet that were sliding off the cushion.

"i don't know. nothing for now." you turn and try to smile. "this is okay for now, i'm sorry for bugging you i..."

you swallow. "i don't wanna be alone right now."

cove comes closer, wrapping his arms around you, hiding your face in his neck. "i don't mind, i'll always be here for you."

it's silent for a long moment, the only sound being the TV cove didn't turn off at your insistence.

less sound meant your thoughts were louder.

you focused on the trickling water of the tank and it suddenly made you aware of how dry you were after crying.

you wrestle your arm free from the blankets and cove's hold, and you feel him watching your every move.

after drinking half the glass, you lean into cove's chest and take in the sound of his heartbeat.

cove is the only thing that keeps your head from spinning and the world from crashing.

you huff. this is frustrating. you're frustrated with everything, mostly with yourself.

"do you... wanna talk now?" cove inquires gently, rambling about how you don't have to but it might help.

you don't say anything for a bit, tracing the waves and lines of cove's tattoo.

"..even though i pined for him for so long..." you start, slowly letting the words come to you. "i thought this was it, i thought i was over him leaving me. but..."

you start to cry, so you sit up to turn around, hiding your face in your hands.

"i spent so long being sad that.."

"i spent so long being angry that.."

"i spent so long being angry then sad and missing him that.."

you swallow, muttering. "that i didn't even realize when i stopped loving him..."

it's quiet. and you don't look up to see if cove heard, but you assume he did since he asks a interesting question...

"then.. why are you so sad? i mean i get it, but..." cove groans, trying to word his thought carefully and correctly.

"i'm sorry.. it just seems like you're upset about something else, too..."

you exhale shakily, despising the tears still pouring from your eyes.

you take in what cove asked, debating what to say before you speak. "i thought this was what i wanted, but now i..." you start crying, overwhelmed.

cove just pulls you back into him, deciding that was enough talking for tonight, and now it was just about cheering you up.

it's been a few months, things are... different. some days are difficult. but most of them are better, just a bit mellow.

it took a bit, but your new apartment finally feels like home, and you can sit in the silence and solitude of it without feeling like your chest is caving in.

at least for today.

you and cove laugh, falling onto your new mattress after finally getting it through the door.

after the giggles die down, you flip over and look at cove. "thanks for helping."

cove turns his head to smile at you, "nah. derek did most the work."

"well, he's not here to receive my 100th thanks, so just take it."

cove laughs heartily.

lately, cove has started to look more handsome. ethereal, in fact. and you can't look away..

"y/n?.."

you hum, looking back at the ceiling. fuck you got caught.

"you're doing it again y'know?"

you whip around to look at cove, who has a smug grin on his face. "what? that's the second time you've said that! what does it even mean?!" you exclaim, slapping cove's chest with the back of your hand.

he laughs joyously, "like you're thinking philosophical thoughts!"

you roll your eyes, "ooo big words there, ocean boy. wouldn't you like to know about my philosopher thoughts." you mock, teasing cove with a grin you don't bother to fight coming across your lips.

"yep." cove pops the 'p', simply agreeing that he wants to know what's on your mind.

you watch each other in silence, and your eyes fall on his lips and he parts them to speak but you beat him to it, muttering lowly and if it wasn't for the emptiness and tranquility around you, he wouldn't have heard it.

"i'm thinking about how pretty you are..."

cove stills, you can hear his breath hitch and he stops breathing for a moment.

you continue, letting the water flow now that you've opened the gates.

"i know you've always had a crush on me, and please don't think i'm playing with you.." you swallow, keeping eye contact so as to will yourself to go on, although the depths of cove's glassy eyes make you flatter a bit.

you curl your fingers into your palms, keeping yourself from petting his cheek.

"at some point i started to.. realize just how much you are there for me. and i.." you lick your lips, "i love you."

cove starts to cry, and to that he sits up to hide his face.

you sit up as well, reaching out to cove's back. you don't know if you should touch him or not...

he cries for a bit. eventually, you do reach out, curling your fingers in the fabric of his shirt. you can't bring yourself to come closer, not sure how to comfort cove or if you even should, but you want him to know you're still here and waiting.

waiting for what? you're not sure.

waiting for him to seek your comfort? waiting for him to reject you? either way, you're waiting, and he turns around when he finally stops the waterworks.

"y-you mean it?" cove chokes, and you nod.

"yeah." you whisper, like any louder approval and it'll come off as half-hearted.

he pauses for a moment, looking at you. searching your gaze and trying to pick your brain apart.

"did you... break up with baxter because you...?" he can't say it, like he's not allowed to. like if he says it, it might shatter.

"love you?" you finish, "no. breaking up with baxter had nothing to do with you or my feelings for you."

"good, good..." cove repeats, sagging a bit in relief. "can i ask you one last question?"

"anything, cove." you assure, antsy to what will come out of his mouth. maybe this is all leading to rejection, but at least he'll know you loved him.

"you aren't saying that because i helped you through your breakup, right?" cove approaches softly. he doesn't mean to offend you, and you take none.

"no!" you lean forward, snatching up cove's hands. "i didn't say it right earlier.. what i meant was, i stopped seeing you as just a friend." you fret a bit, softening as you think about how you see cove now.

"i was hung up on what i couldn't have with baxter, and i know it sounds bad, but once i realized i was living in my head too much and didn't even know what i was feeling until after the fact.."

you intertwine your hands with cove's, looking up at him. "i realized life was so much better than in my head, and there was, is, someone greater than i could ever imagine."

you don't realize it until cove reaches up to wipe some tears from your cheeks. you laugh, "you're crying too, dummy."

cove laughs, holding your hand against his cheek.

"i've been waiting so long to hear you say that." cove cringes, "well... maybe too long. you're so hard to get over, i could never do it..."

cove looks at you with affectionate eyes.

"does this mean..?" you question, a bit egear but holding your horses.

cove laughs and nods. "yeah. i love you too, y/n."

you beam, taking his face in your hands and resting your foreheads together. "we'll take it slow, if it helps."

cove flushes, feeling a bit bold and is flustered by the fact. "not too slow, i've been waiting almost 17 years for this."

cove is the one to close the gap, swallowing your words before you can tease him, laugh, or agree.

you let him, letting cove pull you down to earth again and into him, as he always does.

[inkbedou]

Célio - Cryo!Lix

first of the three, created originally by @sammys-magical-au , we got Cryo!lix, aka Célio!

(IMPORTANT NOTE; i will post three ISWM!Lix designs! I'll be posting the second one tomorrow and the third the day after that!)

cool in the face of danger and rational in even the most difficult of situations, Celci's second in command strives to protect and assist all colonists in their travels with his trusty goggles and his cat Wafer by his side, no matter how dire or simple the situation at hand is.

more info about him under the read more!

i always imagined him to be more like little lix than irl lix in personality (mostly meaning more confident xd)

is kind of quiet, but in a "i dont have anything to add" way most times. in that sense, he is a little cold

as shown in top right, he adores fog, and will always be the first to volunteer to fix cryo just so he can sit in that foggy room for a while

since making Cruz, ive begun to have three things that all my lix egos must have: a cat, a weapon and an inclination towards literally anything artistic. and thankfully sammy had already come up with an artistic thing for him! to cope with the trauma from the wormhole business, he enjoys painting :D

as also shown above, his cat companion is an alien kitty named Wafer! i decided to keep the original design i had made for him cause i love how vibrant the colors are :DD

i have always imagined that the little free time he gets, he spends joking/talking/gossiping with Celci. mostly about Engineer. kinda how Celci is always complaining ab mark in ISWM but Celio listens and jokes around what Celci says

apart from that, i like to imagine that at some point before the Invincible II was done, Celio and Celci enjoyed ice skating together :D (listen i love the idea of ice skating i needed to put it on a character and these fit perfectly so,,)

the idea for his huge hoodie honestly came from the fact that i just recently got a similar one and its so warm and comfy i thought it would fit really well XD

finally, his weapon isn't really a weapon, but a smoke bomb! his goggles have technology that allow him to see heat signatures, so he can throw his smoke bomb, put on his goggles and see the enemy without the enemy seeing him B)

i feel like i should mention that i know Célio is more a Brazilian name than Portuguese, but u gotta agree with me that it fits perfectly with Celci!

it was super fun making Célio, and next up is reactor!lix !! thank u for reading this all if u got to this point!

[duchessonfire]

Whatever AU you create I live for it, honestly I'm your biggest fan at this point. Feel free to expand! The abo, supernatural twist, the motherfucking reverse sugar that i did not expect 😂 what kinda dynamic do you envision? Are they overall similar to savior except for some key point or is the energy between cegan completely altered? What are the vibes ��

Also! What are you thought on Negan's evolution and can you add your twist as to where do you think Carl can fit in it

(ive never watched dead city and stopped twd years ago coincidentaly right after carl died i keep up a bit with spoilers so i got the gist of it. But from what i can see he's become a fundamentaly different person. Swagger still there but dialed down enough to make me sad 😔 wbu do you keep up? id be impressed if you did cause that's some damn comitmment.

Listen i've been trying to recreate your magic by combining ao3 tags lately but nothing seems to fit! Its the age difference, its the slow burn with what started as someone playing meanly and exerting their power on someone else only to be hit with the feelings 🫢, it's the top tier d/s subtext, its the jealousy and the two step forward one step back, its the smut tbh mostly the smut, simply put it's giving.

And absolutely no rush and dont feel obliged to answer but what kinda irl timeline are you predicting for part 3 and 4 and the neganpov? You've been churning out updates lately (22k high quality chapter within a month; we are spoiled god bless🫂).

I'm frothing at the mouth waiting for your next update. You sincerely bring me joy.

Hi again Cegan lovely! ✨

Thank you so much for this sweet message.

The dynamics of the other Cegan project I have planned will be very much similar to the Savior!Carl universe with Carl and Negan going from enemies to lovers. The only one that is truly different is the reverse sugar daddy AU where I'm going for a Carl that is super shy and vulnerable, really a gifted kid who has trouble connecting with people and who clings to his crush for his former PE teacher for dear life. I'm really excited about those projects even though I have no idea when I'll have time to write them 😅

I am still heavily involved in TWD universe and I have watched the main show until the end, as well as the Daryl Dixon, The Ones Who Live and the Dead City spinoffs. I was very unhappy with Negan's characterization in the last season of TWD but Dead City really brought a breath of fresh air and I'm excited to see what lies in store for Negan in season 2.

So funny thing, part 4 of the Savior!Carl universe will cover Rick's arrival and the war between the Saviors and the other communities, but because I want to stick closely to canon, part 5 will deal with the time Negan spends in the cell and the Whisperer War. So I have in fact plans for Carl and Negan's relationship even after Negan loses his empire. (I'm actually very excited about their new dynamics after that happens ❤️‍🔥 While Negan will go softer, Carl will become a lot harder and more ruthless so that will be pretty amazing to explore...).

I'm so happy that you enjoy the Savior!Carl AU 😍 If you're looking for more Cegan content, I recommend looking at my bookmarks. If you enter Carl Grimes or Negan Smith in the "other work tags to include" section, you will be able to see all my Cegan bookmarks. I especially recommend the fics by Gemjam: Wildflowers and Genesis, which are really the main inspiration behind the Savior!Carl universe, but in my bookmarks you will find loads more of amazing works by amazing writers! Happy reading 📖

So for the time-line, part 3 will finish this summer for sure, hopefully by beginning of July. I will post chapter 10 this week (hopefully today or tomorrow), and then it's only two more chapters to go. The time-line for 4 is a lot blurrier because I still have a lot of brainstorming to do. Same for part 5 and for the Negan's pov. Ideally, I would like the Negan's pov to post at the same time as part 5 because Carl will spend a lot of time away from Negan while he's in the cell, so posting Negan's pov at the same time would still giving readers a healthy amount of Cegan next to the plot of part 5.

Thank you again for such a lovely ask and I hope you have an amazing day 💐😘

[kcgyatt]

I'm thinking about if I should post this on twt or here, but i feel like ive been neglecting ts for too long so imma just drop this random bs i thought of!!!! What i thought of is 'how would all the top 10 interact with each other' or even 'would their story collide or something??' i add alot of random add ons so if u get confused on what's the topic MY BADDD

I keep thinking about TJ's relationship with GB whether if they opps or neutral. I made up a story on how would they connect like "Oh what if TJ's crashout over his village getting massacred is responsible of GB's wife dying lmfao" I KNOW IT SOUNDS STUPID his wife could've died through a bell falling on her maybe its simple likes that heh BUT THAT ALSO SOUNDS STUPID like there's literally no way that THAT way of dying could lead to GB being a nonverbal assassinator (doing out of goodwill 🥺) anyways i cant rlly feed on this... ehh i guess you could this a theory. it rlly just popped out of nowhere?

another connection i can make with TJ is loli YAYYYY!!!! I've been wondering about what their relationship is with each other since in the old chibi arts on the CN twt acc; it shows them really close together and i found it cute heheh,, i feel like it built off being called the 2 "cutest, mascot-y" looking heroes, had competition, and got closer since TJ was struggling over internet mechanics; seek out loli's help then BOOM.

omg THESE TWO. THESE TWO I SWEAR. They're so cute together GGRR!!! really big fan of them. It's obviously VERY friendly and its so adorable. I thought about on how they got very close to each other.. It's either because they're in the same agency that provides entertainment, OR that Queen is a heavy rock metal enthusiast since the start and taken interest in LC before even meeting her. I theorized on what's the reason behind Queen's interest in rock. FIRST!!! Queen was being strictly monitored when she was younger; leading for her to feel isolated and she detested it. Soon, she found comfort in rock music because that's the only thing that provided her air in her life (yay good ending) found LC's music, got interested, BOOM then it leads to their friendship YAYYY im not gonna do a deep dive into their character but im just gonna assume what their statuses are with each other on the surface. (i might do it soon tho) I didn't include Loli and Nuonuo because im talking abt the top 10 GRRR I'll just continue this tomorrow if there's more hints about the heroes meeting up. I'm too lazy to find more sources

[v3nusxsky]

Hello again buddy!! I saw your post about opening lesso requests back up and im so excited!! I was wondering if you could do another romantic agere fic where reader is sick and it makes her slip more often and lesso takes care of her really well and is just super cute and fluffy? Im sick rn and ive discovered that it makes me slip way more often than usual and i thought itd be a cute fic idea, thank you so so much!! Keep up the amazing work!! <333

-🪩

Poorly Bubba

*Authors note~ I love writing Agere fics*

Trigger warnings~ age regression, (little r cg lesso) momma lesso sickness (throwing up )

Prompt~ see ask^^^^

The first symptom you had was a sore throat, nothing too unmanageable but enough to be annoying, then there was the pounding headache. Combined with the stuffy blocked knows and the churning of your stomach it was safe to say you clearly had some kind of bug. For you, your regression tended to be more frequent and a lot deeper when you felt under the weather.

Your sleep had been broken multiple times that night, but this time you felt nauseous so you ran straight to your shared bathroom, urging sounds filled the room alerting your girlfriend to your current state and pulling her from her slumber. Sleepily, she found her way to you, holding your hair back and rubbing circles into your back. You hated being sick, so not only were you being sick you were also choking on your own sobs.

"Sweetheart, your okay my darling it's all okay" she murmured hoping to soothe your already frightened self. "Momma" you sobbed curling into yourself. "It's okay little dove, you're okay momma has you." She whispered pressing a kiss into your hair as she flushed the toilet. "Dove, are you finished darling?" To which you nodded as you continued to cry. Lesso seemed to reach up to the sink to fill a little cup with water before handing it to you. "Here baby, sip this okay? It will help"

With a few sips of water, all you did was curl up into your girlfriend whimpering as you were hit with a bout of stomach cramps. "Momma brush?" You whimpered and she reached to grab you a toothbrush. "Here dove, let's brush those toothy pegs darling" she cooed before helping you clean you teeth.

With all your needs being met she helped you make your way back to the bedroom, before coming to snuggle you up to her chest, your nose buried into Lesso's neck, breathing in your scent. "Momma. I no feels god mmm hurt" you whined curling up into her more, clearly the cramps were playing you up something nasty but your tiny brain couldn't handle that fact. It became too much for you, all you could do is cry. "Oh my dove you're okay! Momma has you, what do you need baby? You want your baba? Noms? Ems?" She was reeling off the things you normally would ask for in this headspace, avoiding anything food or drink oriented.

"Wan noms ems nmm mommas" you whined wriggling unhappily as you couldn't get comfortable. "Okay baby let momma up okay?" Which caused you to whine more and clutch into the women's clothing, "no go no momma no weave" you whimpered over and over as she attempted to hush you, "baby I'll be two seconds love. Just two okay?"

True to her word Lesso returned quickly with ems and got you all snuggled back into bed with her. Ems tucked into your chest as she allowed you to have her fingers to suck or chew on. Whatever you needed she would give you, truly she just wanted you to feel better. She hated when you were sick knowing just how scared you were. "Momma is here baby you wanna go nini?" She murmured as you were blinking sleepily trying to fight the exhaustion. "Mmm. Mkmmma stway" you whimpered and she immediately nodded. "I'll stay my dove, we can both take the day off tomorrow and make mommas dove all better okay?"

You let out a pleased hum at the idea of staying home with momma, that meant snuggled in bed and a whole lot of comfort. "Now nini my darling dove momma loves you" she mumbled dropping kisses onto your head. "Nini momma wuvs " you mumbled before sleep took you. Lesso stayed on alert all night incase you had another bout of sickness, which thankfully you didn't.

Word count~ 753

[evatethysquid]

Day 24- Journal

Elians journal...?

(Hey this is pretty cringe sorry I'm bad at writing)

///

I've got this letter....from some....Heir? So...I've finally found somewhere to severe my purpose?

Instead of just being called a wildcard. Why am I doing this? There is no point to feeling. I am bound to the goddess of justice. That is my only point to live isn't it?..

I swear....I remember her?...

My job is to kill for justice. To do the dirty work. So....? Being in the dungeons count?

who knows.

I am only good at killing.... After all.

Ive killed a lord

But...When I judged some of them....I only saw redemption.... they...

there are so many.... Mercenaries...

When was the last person who.... I've talked to?

They were nice.

I don't remember.

Maybe things have just got more interesting. Perhaps not. Although I do not want to talk.... But I suppose if I have to....

Then so be it give me your worst.

And if I have to fight bugs....

But... I do wonder why... Out of all people. Me. That was hired.

Maybe I could have a life. I suppose, but....

What if I forget again?

///

(Hey. I know have of this whole paragraph didn't make since but, I'll explain it if you guys want to, also sorry for not posting yesterday I'll post tomorrow hope you enjoyed <3)