#just a thought on what next an focus feels like

[fartcloudfartcloud]

What about Logan meeting a reader with more dominance than him? Like what would he do, what would he want to do to them?

*giggles and wrings hands together* You've found my achilles heel mr.69

i dont know if this is what you wanted but im using this as my excuse to write FREAKY SUBMISSIVE LOGAN PORN!!!

warnings: Edging, Logan being mean and then begging on his knees a second later, i do say reader is "5 foot whatever" but if that doesnt apply just ignore it lmao, I do describe him as almost crying every now and then so if that turns u off this might be a skip

This is short (1.5k) but I love submissive men so do NOT be afraid to lmk if you want more :)

Personally, I was raised by a woman way too strong headed to ever be the stereotype of submission, and I'm sure a lot of you share the same sentiment in some way or another. I was always told to never let a man tell me what to do, and I can picture a reader being the exact same way. 

Not mean, not bullheaded or rude, but strong. Tough. Logan had expected to blow through you like he had the rest of his team (or at least how he thought he did, though he was a lot tougher in his head than in action). But when he stood up to you, all 5 foot whatever of you, it felt like you were standing eye to eye.  

You did exactly as you were taught, chin up and shoulders back as you spoke with confidence, and it easily had you slipping into positions of power in the mansion with ease. He admired you from afar for a while, watched as you seamlessly commanded a room, effortlessly organizing missions and handling insubordinate children like it was nothing.  

Logan couldn't describe where the attraction came from. Originally, he thought it was his manly man urges to take a dominant woman and make her pine for him, but you and I both know that's not why you got him going. 

If you were to ask him right now in his current scenario, he wouldn't be able to tell you which was his favorite part. Not sure if it's you under him in between his knees, looking up and fluttering your pretty eyelashes at him like has something to behold; or if it's your firm grip around his cock, effortlessly bringing him so close to the edge before you manhandle him back down to earth. 

It had only been once so far, but you had gotten him bad. Your hands all sloppy and wet working up and down his length with vigor, your filthy loudmouth a never-ending record of come on baby, let me see it, let go for me. 

All that build up, just for you to -right as he whimpers out a breathless "going to fucking cum"- halt all action and grip your flingers tightly around his base. 

It ripped a deep growl from his chest, the feeling almost painful as his finish line is so rudely ripped from him.  

He should've known, he knows you too well too have assumed he could get you all pretty on your knees without some anterior motive.  

"You want something?" You ask him innocently, that stupid pretty smile still spread across your face. He grinds his teeth as the pressure in his stomach slowly simmers down, not enough air in his lungs to formulate a response.  

You slowly start stroking him again, an agonizing pace that has his cock flushed a deep red and practically throbbing in your hand. The sound is pornographic and it's all too much for him. 

He's whining now, head thrown back and noises getting increasingly high pitched as you keep his release just barely out of his reach. If he could focus enough to use his ears, he’d hear you laughing at him. 

He so rudely tries to interrupt you, tries to bring his own hands down to just get himself there, but you wouldn't allow it. You'd make him sit on his hands if you had to, and when you grabbed each wrist and planted them next to his thighs and told him to "stay," he knew better than to disobey. 

"Gotta ask for the things you want, Wolvie." You remind him. It's just basic manners, really, frankly he should be thanking you for still touching him after being so rude.  

"Don't gotta ask for shit," He spits out through clenched teeth. 

See, that was Logans problem. He had too much fucking pride, needed someone to teach him a lesson. Guess today he needs it to be you. 

"Mm you're right, Logan," you've got a smile on your face as you speak that Logan can't read. Either way, he's scared. 

None of it matters though as your hand picks up speed and pressure, resuming your prior ministrations as your fingers suddenly massage every spot with precision. His breath is gone as his head hangs limp on his shoulders, his fingers gripping the comforter like it would save him from your attack.  

"You don't gotta do shit," You're talking but he's not listening. It's all too good, he's being hurdled towards his orgasm faster than ever, he couldn't hear your jests even if he wanted to over the pressure in his ears. He’s gonna cum, he's so fucking close, and your hands feel so fucking good so perfect and it's all so much and- 

"But neither do I," and just like that you're off him. Not like before, this time you stand up and physically take a step back from him, watching his form head to toe as he's forced to cope with his second lost orgasm. 

The groan he lets out is primal, you expect to see him start ripping the pillows and sheets with how his writhing on your bed. He’s on his back twitching, practically crying from the ache pulsing through the center of his body. It hurts, he's so desperate it physically hurts, his hips rutting into the air in search of anything. 

He has no sense anymore, no control over any of his limbs as he falls to the floor and crawls to you, the only thing he can make out in his fogged-up mind is need.  

"Please baby," He begs mindlessly, "You're so fucking mean to me," He's kissing your thighs and pulling at your hands, buttering you up and wallowing in any contact you'll give him.  

Neither of you know how it happened, know at what point in the night he broke and became a whimpering messy puppy, but God did it feel good to watch, to see him yearn for you so desperately. 

His eyes are teary eyed and hazy as he speaks, "I'll do anything princess I'm sorry," He kisses you palm and knuckles and up your wrists, "Please baby I'm sorry I'm sorry just fucking-" His hips involuntarily grind down, his thighs twitching and his hard cock bobbing between his legs. "Please touch me baby I can't fucking take it,"  

He’s a mess, his cock is leaking all over his thighs and the floor, and his lips won't leave your body, lathing kisses anywhere he can, worshipping your body as you stand still and look down at him.  

"Why can't you just behave the first time?" You ask, wrapping your fingers in his hair and gently tugging his hair back, making him look at you as he speaks.  

"Was just playin baby," He kisses the wrist of the hand in his hair, "shouldn't have teased you baby I'm sorry, please baby please," his arms are wrapped around your thighs as he nuzzles into you. It's pathetic, and if anyone else ever saw him like this he's sure he could just explode on the spot.  

"Get back on the bed." You order, taking pleasure in the way he scrambles back to his spot, his legs spread for you and his hands pressed back into their spot next to his hips. He’s disheveled, his hair falling over his face and sticking to his forehead, a thin layer of sweat covering him head to toe. Youd keep him like this forever if you could. 

You decide to take mercy on him though, the sight of him on his knees begging like a dog more than enough to satisfy your cravings. Now, all you wanted was to do was so how pretty he looked once he actually finished for you. 

You find your spot between his legs again, looking up at him all pretty just like before. God you were going to ruin him. 

"Go on. Tell me what you want," you give him one last instruction before giving in. His breath is shaky, his words coming out in a whole different tone than before. He sounds small, on the brink of tears as he whimpers out one last desperate, "please," before you spit in your hand and wrap it back around his cock.  

Instantly he's gone. He doesn't even have the energy to moan or cry, he's just paralyzed. His eyes roll back and his hand clamps over his mouth, no air left in his lungs as the most mind-numbing wave of pleasure works up from his core. He wasn't even cumming yet and it already was making him shake. 

He should've just trusted you, should've known that you'd make him feel so fucking good if he just listened. Never again, he'll never say no to you ever again. 

By the time his orgasm actually hit him, he's laid out flat on his back on the mattress, his mouth dropped open, and his eyes squeezed shut. Both his hands are wrapped in the sheets, stuck in place by his claws that slowly inch out with every rope of cum that comes from him. There's no sound until it's all out of him, your hands not stopping till he's whining and pushing you away from him. 

You watch as he recovers, his chest rapidly rising and falling as he desperately tries to get air back into his lungs, aftershocks still tumbling through him. His eyes flutter back open, not enough energy to focus on anything else though as his claws start sheathing back into his knuckles.  

He sits up as you return from the bathroom with a washcloth, gently cleaning off his stomach and anything that was coated in a thin layer of his finish. He’s sensitive, hissing and gasping as you gently clean his slowly softening length and thighs.  

Once all evidence is taken care of, you look up at him with soft eyes. He looks so amazing like this, his eyes can't focus on anything while his lips slowly pull into a big dopey grin. You let him take you in for a moment, just staying like this with him till he has the strength to speak.  

"Jesus Christ," Is all he says before he presses a chaste kiss to your lips before falling back onto the bed.  

"Are you going to make it?" You tease, cuddling up under his arm where he lay and resting your head on his bicep.  

"I don't think so," He giggles, enough oxygen in his system now, enough strength in him to wrap himself around you and kiss your head. "You were a lot closer to killing me then you think,"  

You giggle and smack his chest, "keep being mean like that and next time I actually will," 

[anniebeemine]

okay, big brown eyes, whatever you say- s.r. x reader

“Why don’t you ever argue with me?”

The question catches you off guard. You glance at Spencer, who’s standing there, awaiting your answer, his brow slightly furrowed as if he’s been pondering this for a while. You blink a few times, shrugging casually as you settle back against the couch.

“There’s nothing to argue about,” you say, the words coming out simple, matter-of-fact.

But Spencer doesn’t like your response. You can see it in the way his shoulders tense and the way his lips press into a thin line. He crosses his arms, his eyes shifting away from you and toward the floor as he runs a hand through his hair.

“I know you hate it when I leave my socks everywhere,” he says, his voice quieter but insistent. “And when I leave the dishes next to the sink instead of in it. I see you tense up when I do it, but you never say anything. Why don’t you just tell me?”

You’re trying to stay engaged in the conversation, but your focus begins to drift. The way the sunlight streams through the window, casting a warm glow on Spencer, draws your attention. His face is lit up in such a way that it highlights the specks of hazel in his eyes, the soft planes of his cheekbones, and the curve of his lips as he speaks.

He looks so beautiful when he talks, even when he's frustrated. There’s something about the way he’s so earnest, so concerned about something as mundane as socks and dishes that makes you smile. You love how much he cares, even when it’s over the little things.

Before you know it, you're smiling at him without even realizing it.

“Why are you smiling at me like that?” Spencer’s voice breaks through your thoughts, snapping you back to the conversation.

Your gaze shifts back to his face, and you realize you’ve completely drifted off into your own world.

“I, uh,” you stammer, feeling your cheeks flush slightly, “I wasn’t... I mean, I was listening, but...”

“But you’re smiling,” he says, confused but amused, his frustration beginning to soften. He raises an eyebrow, leaning in a bit closer. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

You bite your lip, trying to gather your thoughts. “I was just... I don’t know, I was thinking about how much I love you. You’re standing there all serious, trying to figure out why I don’t argue with you about socks and dishes, and I just... I love that you care about that. And I got distracted by how good you look in the sunlight.”

Spencer’s expression softens even more, a small, lopsided smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He shakes his head slightly, but there’s a warmth in his eyes now. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“I know,” you reply with a grin, feeling the tension from the conversation melt away.

“But seriously,” he says, his tone gentler now as he sits down beside you. “You can tell me when something bothers you. I don’t want you to feel like you have to hold it all in just because you don’t want to argue.”

You lean into him, resting your head against his shoulder. “I know. And I promise I’ll try to be better about that. But sometimes... it’s not worth arguing over. I just enjoy being with you, and the little things don’t matter as much when I think about how much you mean to me.”

Spencer wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer. “Well, if that’s the reason, I guess I can live with a few unspoken complaints about my socks.”

You chuckle softly. “Just a few.”

[chaos-in-deepspace]

LADS Zayne: Hard Day in the Office | NSFW

One of my buddies really wanted Zayne jacking it in his office. And so did I. So I did it. Here's a masturbation fic of our favorite doctor.

Unedited Drabble

Pairings: Zayne x Reader Warnings : Masturbation, Public Office Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Zayne

He had thought he handled the situation well. Your appointment had been going well, for the most part. Other than a little playful banter, it had been professional. Just like every appointment with Dr. Zayne.

Then the end of the appointment had come, and you had gotten a bit more casual with the doctor. Placing a hand around his arm as you spoke with a smile on your face, asking him what time he got off today in case he wanted to get dinner after his shift. It was sweet, it was innocent.

So why had Zayne's head gone to the gutter the moment you laughed and told him you'd see him later.

You had left him alone in his office, alone to his thoughts, and not a single one could be considered even somewhat professional. Instead the only thing he could think about was how uncomfortably tight his pants were, and how hot his office suddenly had gotten.

Zayne had checked the time at his computer, looking it over and sighing in frustration. He had at least half an hour before he had to see his next patient. At least if he had work to do, he could distract himself easier. Instead he was at his office, alone, for half an hour.

Trying to do paperwork was basically a lost cause as he shifted in his chair and winced when he could still feel his erection. With a resigned huff, Zayne got up and locked the door to his office before going back to his chair. Behind his desk, even if someone had walked in, they wouldn't be able to see him.

He sometimes hated how complex his clothes were as he began working his belt off and unzipping his pants. He didn't bother fully taking anything off, instead grasping his hard cock and letting out a soft grunt in response.

He was already so damn worked up from you as he used some of the pre cum at the tip to help him glide along his length. His breathing was already a bit shallower as he worked his dick, thinking about all sort of scenarios.

What would you look like underneath his desk at this moment. He could perfectly envision you under the large desk, away from view. Your mouth teasing him through his clothes and you nuzzled up against his thighs, asking him what he wanted. His hands going through your hair as he guided you closer to his cock and your smaller hand going to unzip him and pull out his length.

Zayne squeezed his own cock as he imagined how your mouth would feel. You'd probably be leaving butterfly kisses along the length of it, kissing upwards to tease him until you took the head into your mouth. Zayne closed his eyes now, imagining all of this happening and covering his mouth with his free hand to help stifle the noises he was making.

The things he'd do to you…the things he'd let you do to him. Whatever you wanted he'd be accepting of it. On top, on bottom, switching it up, eating you out, letting you suck him off. If it meant he could be with you, he'd be willing to do it.

Another gasp left his mouth as he felt himself getting close, his pace picking up as he worked his cock. He just needed to cum, to get that release so he could focus on his job. He grunted again as he took in deep breaths.

Would you be willing to swallow it? Zayne had a fairly healthy diet if you didn't consider all the sweets. He'd be more willing to eat things that would make him taste better if it meant he could watch you. Have you sticking your tongue out, showing him his own cum painting your mouth, then swallowing his load.

That mental image was enough to throw him over the edge. He groaned as he felt the warm release coating his fist as he worked himself through it, no longer capable of hiding all of his noises. He was panting again, slumped in his chair as he looked over at the time. Only ten minutes had passed. He let out an almost pitiful huff as he sat back up, then heard his phone chime.

It was a message from you. A short one, giving him the location of the restaurant you wanted to try. He thought it over and blushed, realizing how hard his day was going to be when he thought about you.

[writeriguess]

Hello there, your writing is so cute and sensual! Could I please request the following: Reader being in the bakusquad and suddenly bonding with Katsuki over music (in my head he likes stuff like gojira and a perfect circle), he’s surprised because Reader looks quite innocent and bubbly and that doesn’t quite fit with her music taste. so one day Reader invites him to a music concert and he ends up making out with her sloppily while the music blasts angry screaming. Thank you!!!  

The music was loud, pounding in your ears, an almost violent symphony of screeching guitars and growling vocals. It was raw and unrelenting, the kind of sound that seemed to vibrate in your bones, making your pulse sync to its aggressive rhythm. And there you were, leaning back casually, eyes glimmering with enthusiasm, feeling the rush of it as if it coursed through your veins.

You had expected this to catch him off guard. Katsuki Bakugo—the brash, fiery blonde who seemed to carry an internal rage as hot as his Quirk—was sitting next to you, his brows raised ever so slightly, a telltale sign of surprise.

“You listen to this?” His voice was incredulous, barely audible over the music blasting through the small speakers of your phone. His crimson eyes flicked toward you, narrowing as if he was trying to figure out some hidden mystery.

You grinned, not even trying to hide your amusement. "What, you thought I was all sunshine and rainbows?" you teased, your voice laced with a playful edge. You could almost feel the confusion simmering off him, and you found it thrilling. His perception of you—a bubbly, seemingly innocent presence in the Bakusquad—clashed violently with the aggressive sounds coming from the playlist you had just shown him.

Katsuki scoffed, but his expression gave him away. He was intrigued, maybe even impressed. His gaze lingered on you a little longer, sizing you up as if the image he had of you had suddenly shifted, taking on a sharper, darker tone.

“Didn’t think you had it in you,” he muttered, arms crossed. His voice held a slight edge, but the usual bite wasn't there. He was watching you closely now, like he was trying to match the music to the person in front of him.

And that’s when the idea hit you.

“There's a concert coming up. Gojira and A Perfect Circle.” You leaned in a little closer, testing his reaction, your voice low and filled with excitement. “Wanna come?”

For a split second, his eyes flickered with something unspoken—an internal battle, maybe—but then his trademark smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Tch. As if I’d miss that.”

The night of the concert arrived faster than you had expected. The energy in the venue was electric, a sea of bodies swaying and thrashing in time with the pulsating rhythm. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, beer, and adrenaline. The floor vibrated under your feet as the music shook the building, the deep bassline rumbling in your chest like thunder. You were right there in the middle of it all, feeling the collective energy, letting it consume you.

Katsuki stood next to you, arms folded as if he was unaffected by the intensity surrounding him, but you knew better. His foot tapped lightly to the beat, his jaw clenched in focus, his crimson eyes scanning the stage as if he was critiquing every note. He was in his element, and it made something stir inside you.

The band shifted into a new song—heavy, aggressive, the kind that made the crowd explode into movement. You couldn't help it; you felt the raw energy surge through you, and you started to headbang, letting the rhythm take over. You could feel Katsuki’s eyes on you, but you didn’t care. You were lost in the music, in the intensity of the moment.

When you glanced over at him, you caught the briefest look of surprise in his eyes. But there was something else there too—something darker, more primal. He watched you with an intensity that sent a rush through your veins. The music screamed, guitars wailing in the background as you both stood shoulder to shoulder, and it felt like the air between you was vibrating with more than just the music.

Then, without warning, the heat between you became too much to ignore. One moment, you were caught in the music, the next, Katsuki was pulling you in, his hand gripping the back of your neck with surprising gentleness. His lips crashed against yours with a force that mirrored the aggressive beat pounding through the speakers, rough, demanding, and unapologetic.

You gasped into his mouth, but the sound was swallowed by the roar of the crowd and the violent music blaring around you. His kiss was hot, desperate, full of a hunger you hadn’t expected. You could taste the salt of sweat on his lips, feel the frantic rhythm of his heartbeat as his other hand gripped your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

Your hands fisted into his shirt, tugging him toward you as the world around you dissolved into chaos. The music became a blur, a mere background to the fire sparking between your bodies. His tongue was wild against yours, rough and unrestrained, tasting, exploring, claiming. Every touch of his lips sent sparks through your body, like electricity coursing through your veins.

He was kissing you like he was furious, like he needed to drown in you to match the wild storm brewing inside him. His lips dragged down your jaw, leaving wet, sloppy kisses along your neck. His breath was ragged against your skin, hot and heavy, matching the ferocity of the music that blared overhead. His teeth grazed your skin, and you moaned softly, your fingers digging into his back, pulling him closer still.

The bass pounded in time with your racing heart, the aggression of the music melding with the heat between your bodies. Everything felt like too much, yet not enough. The pressure of his lips, the scrape of his teeth, the heat of his hands—all of it drowned out everything else. It was messy, intense, and filled with a sense of raw need neither of you could fight anymore.

You broke apart for just a moment, both of you panting, eyes locked. Katsuki’s lips were red, swollen from the intensity of the kiss, and there was something feral in his gaze that made your knees weak. His grip on you tightened, like he wasn’t ready to let you go, and before you could catch your breath, he was kissing you again, harder this time, messier, as if the music itself had taken control of him.

The night became a blur of heated touches and furious kisses, with the music—the angry, screaming chaos—serving as the perfect soundtrack to the storm you had both unleashed.

Katsuki’s lips devoured yours, raw and unrestrained, pulling you further into the whirlwind you had both ignited. The crowd around you surged and moved, bodies crashing against one another, but it was like you and Katsuki were caught in your own universe, separate from the chaos of the concert. The music thundered, angry and visceral, but nothing compared to the intensity sparking between you both.

You could feel the heat radiating from his body, his hands sliding down your waist with an urgency that made your pulse race. The firm press of his fingers against your skin sent waves of electricity through you, igniting a fire in your core that was impossible to ignore. He kissed you like he was trying to claim every part of you, his lips demanding, pulling everything out of you until all that was left was the raw need for him.

His grip tightened as he pulled you closer, your bodies flush against one another. You could feel the hard lines of his chest through his shirt, the warmth of his skin despite the sweat that slicked both of you. Katsuki kissed you with a ferocity that left you breathless, his teeth grazing your bottom lip as his tongue darted past your lips again, sweeping over yours in a wild, hungry dance.

You moaned into his mouth, your hands scrambling to find some anchor in the madness. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, tugging at the fabric of his shirt, desperate for more—more contact, more heat, more of him. He growled low in his throat, and the sound vibrated through your chest, sending a shiver down your spine that mingled with the pounding bass reverberating through the floor.

You lost track of how long you kissed like that—how long the world around you melted away into the background of growling vocals and screeching guitars. Time blurred, the intensity of the moment folding into itself, until all you could focus on was the sensation of Katsuki’s mouth against yours, the way his hands explored your body with a mix of urgency and raw desire.

He pulled back just enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours. His breaths came out ragged and uneven, mingling with yours in the small space between you. His lips were swollen and red, glistening in the dim lights of the venue. You were certain yours looked the same. His eyes were wild, pupils blown wide, and the raw desire simmering in those crimson depths made your knees feel weak.

“You’re… a lot fuckin’ different than I thought,” he rasped, his voice rough from the kiss, but the edge of surprise in his tone was still there. His hand remained firm on your waist, keeping you close as if he wasn’t quite ready to let you go yet. His thumb traced slow circles along your hip, and the gentle motion was a stark contrast to the intensity of his earlier touches.

You smiled breathlessly, meeting his gaze with a playful gleam in your eye. “Yeah? You surprised?”

Katsuki snorted softly, though the heat in his gaze didn’t waver. He smirked, but it wasn’t the usual cocky grin he flashed at the squad. This one was darker, more knowing. “Surprised doesn’t even fuckin’ cover it.” His eyes flicked down to your lips again, as if he was already thinking about kissing you again. “But I like it.”

Before you could respond, he kissed you again, softer this time but no less intense. It was deeper now, slower, as though he was savoring the taste of you. The music still roared around you, the crowd moving in waves, but none of it seemed to touch the bubble that had formed between the two of you. His lips moved against yours with a kind of precision, like he was memorizing every part of you, dragging out every second of the kiss.

His hand slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, his calloused fingers brushing against the bare skin of your lower back. The touch was hot, sending shivers up your spine despite the heat radiating from his body. You arched into him, feeling the rough edge of his fingertips trail up your back, grounding you in the moment.

You could feel the tension coiling in your stomach, the ache that had built between you both since the start of the night. Katsuki pulled away, just enough to catch his breath, his thumb grazing your lip in a way that was both possessive and tender.

“I’ll be real with you,” he said, his voice low, just for you to hear. His eyes glinted with something more than lust now. “You and me? We’re not done. Not even close.”

His words sent another wave of heat crashing over you, and you nodded, breathless and dazed, unable to tear your eyes from him. You could feel the unspoken promise hanging between you, the certainty that this—whatever had sparked tonight—was only the beginning.

But tonight, you had never felt more alive.

Requests are open. Send as many as you like at once.

[chestersturniolo]

“Fine!”

Chris Sturniolo x collegestudent!reader

based on this request (warning; mentions of eating/sleeping habits)

*°:⋆ₓₒ

The coffee table is a disaster—papers scattered everywhere, books piled high in random heaps. You’re sitting cross-legged on the floor, hunched over your notes. Your back aching from hours in the same position as you try to cram more information into your exhausted brain. The exam is looming, and despite how tired you feel, there’s no time to stop.

You barely register the sound of Chris’s footsteps as he walks into the room. His voice is gentle as he crouches down beside you.

“Hey, babe-“ he says, placing a kiss on your cheek. “-Is there anything I can do to help?”

Without looking up from your textbook, you shake your head. “No, I’m fine” you mumble, eyes glued to the page. You flip to the next section with more force than necessary, frustrated by how little you feel is sticking.

Chris watches you for a moment, concerned. He tries again. “You sure? You’ve been at this for hours,,maybe you should take a break. I can get you something to eat, or we could—”

“Chris!” you snap, cutting him off

“I said I’m fine” The words come out harsher than you meant, but you can’t help it. You’re overwhelmed, and his hovering is only adding to your stress. You let out a sharp sigh “Yknow what, maybe I’ll be able to focus better someplace else, without you hounding me”

You don’t even look at him as you start packing up your stuff, shoving papers and notebooks into your bag with irritated movement.

Chris stares at you, hurt flickering across his face. “That’s not fair y/n-“ he says , taken aback. “-I’m not hounding you. I’m just trying to help”

You keep your head down, not meeting his eyes as you zip up your bag. You can hear the frustration building in his voice

“-I’ve been watching you study yourself into the ground for days. I don’t even remember the last time you ate or slept properly-“ he says, letting out a sigh. “-all I’ve been trying to do is help, but if you don’t want me to, fine”

You stand up, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “Fine!” you spit, brushing past him toward the door.

He steps aside as you leave, his voice softer this time, tinged with disappointment. “Fine”

~~

Days passed without a word from Chris. You were too consumed by your studying to dwell on the argument, burying yourself in books and notes until your mind feels numb. The exam day finally came, and when you walked out of the hall, there was a weight lifted off your shoulders. It went well, better than you expected.

But now, the following day, nothing is left to distract you. as your curled up on your couch, the argument with Chris floods back into your mind. It’s like a fog lifting, and you realize how badly you handled things. The stress, the pressure—it made you lash out, and now you regret it. You hated how quiet the space was around you, usually filled with Chris’ voice saying something either flirty, outrageous or hilarious.

Just as you’re lost in thought, there’s a knock at the door. You groan, dragging yourself off of the couch making your way to the door.

As you open it, your heart skips a beat. Chris is standing there, a mix of emotions on his face, holding a huge bouquet of your favorite flowers.

“Chris…” you whisper, placing a hand on your chest, overwhelmed by the gesture but also the regret bubbling up inside you.

He smiles softly, almost testing the waters.

“Hey, ma… I uh- heard your exam went really well” he says, holding out the flowers toward you.

You hesitate for a second before reaching out to take them, your fingers grazing the petals as you admire them. A small smile plays on your lips as you look at the flowers, then back up at him. “Nick told you, didn’t he?” you say with a small smile and playful roll of your eyes. Chris chuckles, nodding. “Yeah, he did”

His smile fades a little as he glances down, then back up at you, his expression turning serious. “I’m really proud of you, y’know-” he says quietly. “-and… I’m sorry. About everything. I just wanted to be there for you, and I guess I should’ve given you more space”

You shake your head quickly, guilt tugging at your heart. “No Chris, it’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have pushed you away. I was so stressed, and I took it out on you…I’m sorry”

He steps closer, his eyes softening as he reaches out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I get it. It’s been a rough time for you-“ He sighs, shaking his head slightly. “-I just hated seeing you so stressed. I just wanted to make it better”

You smile up at him, the tension between you melting away. “You always do” you whisper

He comes forward and pulls you into his chest. His familiar scent seeps into you, and for the first time in days, you feel at peace. After a moment, you pull back slightly, looking up at him with a soft smile

“Come inside?”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

a/n; thankyou for the request anon!! lyly

- 𝑺𝒂𝒈𝒆 ♡

MASTERLIST

taglist: @sturnobsessedwh0re @nayveetbhh @phone4pills @demzzz @dripgodnay

@sturniooolos @monroesturnns @mattsbitchh @slutforsturnioloss @pvssychicken @tsturniolo4

@brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @stvrlighht @witchofthehour @ilyttmatsa @asherrisrandom @l0ver-i @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @fratbrochrisgf @emely9274

[p1utofairy]

★ your next glow up?

note — i wasn't gonna post this now but i figured fuck it why not?! enjoy, my loves! this is for entertainment purposes only <3 take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. p.s. come in my ask box and tell me what you think!

PILE ONE.

pile mf ONE, you are really stepping into a new era! when i tell you this new you is gonna turn HEADS. tuh, you’re gonna be looking like new money. nicki minaj’s ‘new body’ verse is coming to mind lol “you ain’t fuck me, you fucked the old body. you ain’t fuck nicki, you fucked nicole body! ain’t no miles on this here new body, off with they heads these bitches is nobody’s.” OH YEAH OKAYYY, PILE 1. maybe you’ll be hitting the gym more, switching up your diet or possibly getting some cosmetic work done?

whatever you’re doing differently, it’s gonna be noticeable. people are gonna feel like something changed with you overnight like “um when did pile 1 get so bad?” and this isn’t to say you aren’t already attractive…there’s just something about your energy and confidence that just amplified x1000 and people are really gonna feel and see this change in you. you might start experimenting with your outfits a little more, giving off a more seductive vibe. it’s like you're breaking out of your comfort zone especially if you usually opt for baggier clothes or a more conservative look. wait cause why am i thinking of ‘pretty little liars’ when emily is talking to aria about hanna and she’s like “haven’t you heard? she’s the it girl now.” PERIOD, PILE ONE. giving serena page vibes from love island.

there will be a lot of talk about you and even if you don’t hear it directly, trust me, people are gonna try to keep tabs on you. i’m seeing people re-watch your instagram stories tryna figure out who took you that place and who you’re doing it with — oh these people are spiralingggg. this could very well be potential suitors tryna scope out the scenery, but they’re not sure if you’ll be interested in them. they might fear rejection because you just look so damn good and it looks like you’re in such a better space in life and got your shit together; whereas they feel like they lack the resources/finances to be with you. these potential love interests see you as high value, pile 1. they’re intimidated by your beauty and aura. you’ll be more so focused on attracting a partner that can actually make shit happen.

you don’t have time for the cat and mouse games. you want the real deal and i do see you getting the person that you want. you manifested this person into your life and i sense them feeling like they won the lottery with you! i’m hearing that you are sooo mesmerizing on the outside and your heart & personality makes you so much more beautiful. there’s layers to you and i think this next glow up will allow you to really shine and be yourself unapologetically – you’re leaning into the different aspects of yourself that makes you unique. if there’s anything you’ve got your mind set on or something specific you want to do, go for it! whatever you do, you’ll stand out effortlessly and be successful. ‘say yes’ by floetry is coming to mind. “see, i’ve been watching you for awhile…your smile and style. wanna know if i can be with you for the night, alright.” i meannnnn need i say more?!

how to tap into this energy?

listen closely to your intuition! work on your third eye because i’m hearing that you’re a powerful manifester and you don’t even truly know it. even if you do know this, you start doubting yourself and limiting your own thoughts. always think big and bigger because it’s in your reach. don’t get so caught up in the “how?” because your manifestations can appear in many different ways, not just one. you have a clear vision into the future – you just gotta adjust your lens and focus on what it is that YOU want. who cares if it doesn’t make sense to anyone else, as along as you see the vision then it’s a go! listen to ‘i want it all’ by sharpay evans lol you need to embody that song and its energy.

PILE TWO.

hey, pile 2! i’m hearing you’ve been putting up with the bullshit for wayyyy too long and this next glow up is gonna be a proper FUCK YOU to all your haters! i feel like people take your kindness for weakness and you feel like you don’t get the respect you deserve. you can deal with a lot of passive aggression in your relationships or friendships and people expect for you to suck it up and be okay with it. what i’m mainly picking up is that you like to keep the peace. you don’t want to ruffle anyone’s feather, but it just makes it worse for you because you’re not truly expressing yourself and your emotions. this keeps you up at night like “ugh! i should’ve said this or I should’ve stuck up for myself and finally cussed so and so tf out.” but you don’t because you know why, pile 2? you’re better than them, simple as that.

you wouldn’t treat anybody how some people treat you, and the reality is that it’s so much harder to be nice than it is to be mean. anybody can be mean and say hurtful shit if they really wanted to, but to always be graceful and kind in the face of adversity and ignorance? rare af. +10000 aura points! don’t let anybody make you feel less than or like you can’t speak up for yourself. this next glow up you’re going to use your voice and really make it known that you are not to be fucked with, okay?! you will be standing your ground and really popping your shit in the most calm and collected way possible & people are gonna be like “wait…did [y/n] really just clock me like that?!” and you’re gonna be standing 10 toes down on it as you should. they’ll have no choice but to respect you lol. you will start to realize what is worth your time & energy and what isn’t.

you might start cutting off people that don’t mean you any good and really start to focus on yourself and your energy. no more walking on egg shells and sparing peoples feelings, this is YOUR life and you have a voice just as much as they do – so use it! i think you’ll also be meeting new friends & a potential love interest during this next glow up. i’m hearing ‘how stella got her groove back’ lol so yeah some of you might be playing the field a little bit.

some of you might just want something casual and nothing more because you just want to focus on your own healing journey. you’ll start to understand why things had to happen the way that they did & why certain relationships didn’t work out the way that you thought they would. you’ll be able to decipher what you are and aren’t willing to put up with and honestly i just see you bossing tf up and advocating for yourself no matter who doesn’t like it. that tiktok “nobody loves you baby! you should only love yourself – ON MY SOUL!” just randomly came to me lmfaooo this is your ‘i’m focusing on what really matters aka me’ era and i think it’s exactly what you need pile 2.

how to tap into this energy?

i think you need to transmute the negative energy that people try to project on you into something positive. 12:12 on the clock, yeah. like look at this way, if people doubt you, don’t respect you or don’t feel like your capable of achieving great things then use that to your advantage. let them underestimate you all they want, and then BAM boss up on them and show them who tf you are. what they don’t know only makes you stronger. you have the power to make some powerful ass connections and make a name for yourself so be calculated & strategic with your moves. people will be eating their words when it comes to you, pile 2.

PILE THREE.

pile 3 your next glow up is gonna be a bit of an emotional rollercoaster ngl, but very rewarding nonetheless. i’m hearing that one tiktok sound “you gotta take the good with the bad, smile with the sad. love what you got and remember what you had.” so yeah i think you’re really gonna be figuring out how to transmute your energy and create something from it – whether that be a job opportunity, a love offer, a trip, etc. there’s something that you really want and you’re doing the work to make it happen. you have the plan, you just need the platform lol.

for some of you, i see a major relationship coming to an end. this could be a lover or a best friend, but this person will be exposed because they’re not who you thought they were. this person has very sneaky/deceptive energy and you’ve been in the dark about this for way too long. this person/connection means a lot to you, so you will feel like this is a tough situation to completely walk away from; but my sweet pile 3’s you will be more than okay! you will be spectacular! 10:10 was just on the clock.

allow yourself to sort through your emotions and learn from the situation, don’t let it weigh you down. sometimes we get too caught up in how long we’ve been with somebody and all of the good memories we made with them, that makes us hesitant to move on. sometimes things just run its course and you’re no longer in alignment with that person. you can’t force anything or anyone in your life that doesn’t align with your highest self and that can be very hard to process when emotions are involved but i’m happy to let you know there’s light at the end of the tunnel.

i see some of you traveling to a place you’ve always wanted to go and possibly meeting a potential love interest. in this next glow up, you’ll be doing things that you’ve always wanted to do cause there’s no one holding you back. you’re stepping out of your comfort zone and just taking a leap of faith – high risk, high reward. you’re gonna be making time for yourself and also prioritizing your hobbies/interests. this is beautiful, pile 3. i see you really getting in touch with who you are at the core. be kind and gentle with yourself, because you are a precious gem that a lot of people value and care about.

how to tap into this energy?

stop giving your power away. work on your throat chakra, my loves. your voice is your power and it’s one of the major keys to your success. a closed mouth doesn’t get fed, so you need to speak up and communicate what it is that YOU want and not just say what people want to hear. this next glow up will really have you standing in your power. release is needed especially verbally cause you know that tight feeling you get in your throat when you’re tryna stop yourself from crying? yeah no more of that. no more walking on egg shells, pile 3. say what you feel and stand on it & watch how the tides turn in your favor. mwah!

PILE FOUR.

alright, pile 4! for this next glow up i see you moving. some of you might actually be moving into a new home or apartment and it’s gonna grant you so much peace and comfort. for others of you, this could be you moving on emotionally from a toxic relationship and/or familial bond and finally getting the clarity and peace you need to cut all ties and move onto something better. whatever the situation may be, it was weighing heavy on you and making you feel very down.

you’re gonna feel so free when you leave this situation behind, it’s not even funny. i’m hearing that you were a gilded bird in a cage. some of you could’ve been moving from place to place, not feeling quite settled or financially stable. if you feel lost right now and like you don’t know what to do with your life/where it’s taking you, i just wanna say keep going – W.A.Y.S. by jhené aiko is coming to mind. “if there's one thing that i learned while in those county lines, is that everything takes time. you have gotta lose your pride, you have gotta lose your mind just to find your peace of mind.” awww yeah that’s your theme song for this next glow up. things might not make sense right now, but please trust me when i say that everything is going to work out in your favor & things will be better than you could ever imagine.

you will be blessed with the tools you need to get to this next phase of your life. you are the source, pile 4. whatever you put your mind to, you can surely achieve! don’t let 3D circumstances throw you off, you are so abundant and prosperous you will see in this next glow up just how much of a powerful manifester you really are. you’re still trying to find yourself and figure out where you fit in in the world, but you don’t have to put yourself in a box, pile 4. pave your own way and once you do others will want to follow suit. no one can see your future the way that you do, so keep doing your thing because i’m seeing that you will come across people/friends that share similar interests and niches as you. awww pile 4 you’re going to find your soul tribe.

you have this flighty energy about you (air sign energy/esp gemini) like you’re from one thing to the next and you can’t figure out what you truly want to do. some of you might be in college or almost about to graduate and when people ask you “do you know what you want to do?” you’re like uhhhh….]>|>]^>.]€]€]£ like you truly don’t know but like that’s okay cause actually you do know! on a soul level, you know. what’s understood doesn’t have to be explained pile 4 lol people might not get it now but when you pop out living the life you’ve always dreamed of, TUH. they’ll understand then.

how to tap into this energy?

get out of your head so much and just vibe, pile 4. you can plan plan plan all you want but the reality is: shit happens! it might annoy you or make you feel incredibly frustrated when another problem or inconvenience pops up in your life, but there’s nothing you can’t overcome. it’s life. you will be greatful for these experiences in the long run because it will be another bridge that you’ve already crossed and dealt with, so you won’t fold under pressure – you’ll just already know what to do. you got this, pile 4. shit is about to get really good for you.

[l4ndonorizz]

sleepless nights / lando norris

pairing: lando norris x reader

song: chase atlantic - falling

summary: unable to sleep, lando calls you in the middle of the night, seeking comfort. What starts as a late-night conversation turns into an emotional confession, as hidden feelings come to light and change everything between you

wc: 1.6k

The soft buzz of your phone on the nightstand broke the silence of your room. You blinked groggily at the screen, trying to focus as the late hour made everything seem hazy. Lando’s name lit up the display, and a small knot of concern formed in your chest.

It was nearly 2 a.m.

Swiping to answer, you held the phone to your ear, voice thick with drowsiness. “Lando? It’s really late. What’s going on?”

There was a pause, the quiet sound of his breathing filling the space between your words. “Yeah, sorry,” he replied, sounding hesitant. “Did I wake you?”

You sat up a little, pushing the sleep from your mind. “It’s okay. I wasn’t really asleep yet. What’s up? You sound… off.”

He let out a deep sigh, the weight in his voice unmistakable. “I can’t sleep.”

Your concern deepened. Lando was usually carefree, the type who always found a way to joke through anything. But this time, he sounded different—worn out. “Again?” you asked softly, knowing he’d struggled with sleepless nights recently.

“Yeah,” he admitted, his voice quiet, almost defeated. “It’s been like this for days. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

You pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders, settling deeper into your pillows as you listened. “What’s on your mind? You wanna talk about it?”

Lando hesitated, and you could almost picture him running a hand through his messy hair, trying to find the right words. “It’s just… everything, I guess. Racing, the pressure, what’s next… I can’t shut my brain off.”

Your heart ached a little at how tired he sounded, and you wished you could be there to help ease whatever burden he was carrying. “I’m sorry, Lando. That sounds exhausting.”

“It is,” he said, his voice tinged with frustration. “I hate it. I lie there for hours, and my head just keeps spinning.”

You listened as he vented, the words pouring out now that he had someone to talk to. Lando rarely let people in like this—he preferred to keep things light, brushing off the hard stuff with a joke or a smile. But tonight, he was raw and unfiltered, and it made you realize just how much weight he carried on his shoulders.

After a few moments of silence, Lando spoke again, his voice softer, almost hesitant. “Do you think… do you think I could come over?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Come over? Now?”

“Yeah,” he replied, and you could hear the vulnerability in his voice. “I know it’s late, but I don’t want to be alone right now. I think… I think I just need to be around someone.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and without hesitation, you nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “Of course, Lando. You can come over.”

“Thanks,” he said softly, the relief in his voice palpable. “I’ll be there soon. Can we stay on the phone while I drive?”

You smiled at the thought of him wanting to keep talking to you, even during the short drive. “Yeah, of course.”

You heard the faint sounds of him moving around, probably grabbing his keys and pulling on a hoodie. The soft rumble of his car’s engine started in the background, and then he was back on the line with you, the quiet hum of the road accompanying his voice.

“What’s been keeping you up the most?” you asked gently, not wanting to push too hard but knowing that sometimes it helped to talk through things.

Lando sighed, the sound tired and heavy. “Honestly? I don’t know. It’s like… I’m trying to be everything at once, you know? The perfect driver, the perfect teammate, even the perfect friend. But no matter what I do, it never feels like enough.”

The vulnerability in his words hit you hard, and you wished you could reach through the phone and just hold him. “Lando… you don’t have to be perfect,” you said softly. “You’re allowed to have bad days, and you’re allowed to feel overwhelmed.”

“I know, but it’s hard,” he murmured. “I keep thinking about the future, what’s next, what I’m supposed to be doing… and I just don’t know.”

Your chest tightened with empathy as you listened to the quiet frustration in his voice. “You don’t have to have all the answers right now, Lando. You’re doing your best, and that’s all anyone can ask of you.”

There was a long pause, the sound of the road faint in the background as he processed your words. “You always know what to say,” he said finally, his voice quieter. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the warmth in his tone, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. “You’d be just fine,” you joked lightly, hoping to ease the tension, but even as you said it, you knew that wasn’t entirely true. He leaned on you in a way that felt different from how he leaned on others, and deep down, you’d always known that.

“You think?” he teased, a hint of his usual playful tone creeping back into his voice. But then, after a brief pause, he added more softly, “I don’t know. I think you’re a bigger part of my life than you realize.”

Your breath caught at the unexpected honesty in his words. There was something about the quiet of the night, the intimacy of the late hour, that made everything feel more open, more real. “I think you’re a bigger part of my life than you realize too,” you confessed quietly.

Lando didn’t respond right away, but you could hear his breathing on the other end, slow and steady, as if he were thinking carefully about what to say next. “I’m almost there,” he said softly, his voice carrying a weight that told you he wasn’t just talking about the drive.

A few minutes later, you heard the faint sound of his car pulling up outside. “I’m here,” he said, his voice gentle as he stepped out of the car.

You climbed out of bed, pulling your blanket around you as you padded to the door. Opening it, you found Lando standing there, his hair tousled from the drive, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. His face was soft, tired but relieved, and something in his eyes made your chest tighten.

“Hi,” you said quietly, stepping aside to let him in.

“Hi,” he replied, offering you a small smile as he stepped inside, kicking off his shoes by the door. You closed it softly behind him, the quiet of your apartment wrapping around you both like a warm blanket.

Lando stood in the middle of your living room, looking around for a moment before turning back to you, his expression soft but serious. “I’m sorry for showing up like this,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me,” you reassured him, stepping closer until you were standing just a few feet apart. “I’m glad you came.”

He looked down at his hands, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie, and for a moment, he seemed almost unsure of what to say. “I’ve been thinking about a lot of things lately,” he said softly. “Mostly about you.”

Your breath hitched at the confession, and you took another step closer, your heart pounding in your chest. “About me?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I’ve been thinking about how much you mean to me. How you’re always there for me, even when I don’t deserve it. And… how scared I am of losing you.”

The vulnerability in his words made your chest tighten, and you felt the urge to reach out and touch him, to reassure him that you weren’t going anywhere. “You won’t lose me, Lando,” you whispered, taking his hand in yours. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He looked down at your joined hands, his thumb brushing softly over your skin. “I care about you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “More than just as a friend.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and suddenly, everything felt clear. The late-night phone calls, the way you always felt so safe around him, the way your heart fluttered every time he smiled—it had all been leading to this.

“I care about you too,” you admitted, your voice soft but sure. “More than I’ve let myself realize.”

Lando’s eyes softened, and he stepped closer, his free hand coming up to gently cup your cheek. “I didn’t want to mess this up,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over your skin. “But I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way.”

You smiled, your heart swelling at the tenderness in his voice. “You’re not messing anything up,” you whispered back.

For a moment, you just stood there, the world falling away as Lando’s gaze locked with yours. Then, slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours in a kiss that felt like a promise—gentle, warm, and filled with everything that had been left unsaid.

When you finally pulled back, Lando rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I think I can finally sleep now,” he murmured with a small laugh.

You smiled, your heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks. “I think I can too.”

[kumkaniudaku]

Stay A While (3)

Summary: Terry get's a lesson in love and shares it with Patrice.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 5,049

Part: 3 of ??

Warnings: Smut (18+)

One. Two.

"Well, James, how you been?" 

"Honestly, Pop. I don't know where to start." 

Wooden spoons banged and scraped across pots on the stove while Marvin scooped red beans and rice into a small ceramic bowl. He'd long shed his work coveralls for an open flannel shirt and khakis to spend some quality time with his only son. 

James was their shared middle name in a long line of Richmond men dating back to their family migration from New Orleans to Fayetteville in the 50s. Marvin was a proud, honorable man. He never said a bad word about anybody, and no one had a bad word to say about him. He taught Terry how to play football, make a pot of dirty rice to perfection, and the importance of ensuring a lady never touched a doorhandle in his presence. He was the reason Terry joined the Marine Corps after a career in the NFL looked unlikely. He was the reason his boy spoke softly and carried a big stick. And he was one of only two people Terry trusted with his heart. 

With two bowls and spoons on a serving tray, Marvin made his way to the kitchen table. He stopped short to get a good look at his son with blue green eyes even more captivating than Terry's. He noted the new frown lines developing on his brow and the lone grey hair sprouting in his goatee. His boy was stressed and confused. He didn't need a conversation to tell him that but welcomed it anyway. 

After sliding one bowl across the table, he took a seat with his signature grunt. "Start at the top. Plenty of time still left in the day." 

Terry quietly thanked his father for his generosity and avoided the question by eating the first bite of his meal. They ate in silence for several seconds until Terry took a deep breath. 

"I think I've been okay. More ups than downs lately, but the downs are pretty damn low. I'm having a tough time sleeping. I'm barely working. I feel like a burden for Treece more than I feel like a man who can actually do something for her." 

"Being a man is about more than what you can do." 

"Yeah, but…" Terry trailed off, trying to gather his thoughts. "It's just - things weren't supposed to be this hard. I gave this country a lot of my time, and I guess I expected to say my goodbyes and roll into my next chapter. Now, my plan b needs a plan b, and I'm out of options." 

"You're not out of options. You don't like askin' for help. Proud like your grandaddy." 

"And you too." 

Marvin chuckled and shook his head as he took another spoonful of food.  "This ain't about me."

The two men shared a laugh, their voices sounding nearly identical as they bounced off the walls. He was the spitting image of his father, both in stature and moral compass. 

"What do you need, James?" Marvin had grown serious again, making Terry avert his eyes to focus on his food. "I'll save you the stress of asking, but you gotta tell me what I need to offer. Is it money?"

"Not much. Enough to pay some bills until the end of the month, and I can have it back to you. I think I have a shot at this job on base if I can get through the second interview."

"How you getting back and forth? I know y'all do the Lyft and Ubom thing these days. Ridin' around with strangers like we didn't spend a whole decade tell y'all not to." 

Terry laughed. "It's Uber, Pop. But, no. Treece is out for the summer, so I'm…using her car when I need it. I don't wanna take advantage of her." 

"Those some of the bills you need help paying?" Marvin's question was answered with a silent head nod and eyes filled with shame. He softened his voice as he reached into his wallet for the cash he had on hand. "It's what you're supposed to do. Ain't no shame. That money is for yourself. Give me til tomorrow afternoon to have more. Five grand enough?" 

"Ah, Pop, I don-" 

"We didn't work as hard as we did for nothing. Plus, it's your college fund money we never withdrew. You're lucky your mother hasn't used it for renovations. She's been eyeing your sister's old room for an indoor she-shed or whatever the hell it's called." 

Marvin sounded exasperated by the concept of his wife's latest project, which amused Terry. They hadn't changed since the day he left. They were just two people who had been in love since the day they met and remained committed to supporting each other through the ebbs and flows of life. 

Standing from the kitchen table, Marvin shuffled around the corner to the garage entrance and returned with a ring of keys and a pile of mail. He tossed them at Terry and returned to his seat. 

"What's this?" 

"Keys to GMC outside. Take it. You might need to run it for a little bit and change the oil, but it works fine. The rest is your mail." Terry opened his mouth to protest and received a glare from his father in return. "I gave you my best speech about askin' for help, and here you go ruining things. Take the truck before I tell your mama."

"Alright, alright," Terry laughed as he raised his hands. "I love you, Pop." 

"Love you, man. I'm proud of you." Not ones for the warm fuzzies of hugs, the two extended their arms across the table for a quick fist bump before returning to their meals. Marvin let his son eat in peace for a few moments before the corner of his lips curled in a knowing smile. "So…Patrice Ellis, huh? That little love letter you wrote in 10th grade finally coming true?" 

"Pop." 

"Ah, come on. It's alright to be in love, son. She's a good girl. Got good folks, too. What's the holdup?" 

In love? The more Terry attempted to negotiate the gravity of the phrase within himself, the more he had to reckon with the idea that his father may not be that far off base.

Terry slowed his eating and looked at his father for help. "You think I'm in love?" 

"Oh, I know you are. You didn't come back to Fayetteville for me, did you?" 

"How would I know, though? How did you know?" 

Marvin stopped eating to sit back in his chair. A fond smile crossed his face as he thought of his younger years. 

"I knew I was in love when I wanted to show up every day and do the work to be with her. It didn't matter if she pissed me off or if we disagreed about decisions. At the end of every day, I can look at her and know I'm where I want to be forever. Plus, I still get a little fired up when she walks through the door all these years later. I ain't much to look at, but your mother is…" 

Marvin let his sentence drop to whistle at the mention of his wife. Terry pretended to take exception but eventually laughed at his father's antics. He quickly relaxed into a contemplative state. 

"I wanna be the best I can for her," he spoke softly. "I get…sad when she's gone for too long. Sometimes, I find myself forcing conversation just to make her look at me because the light in her eyes is the only thing keeping me grounded most days. What does that mean?" 

"You don't need me to answer that, son. Go with what you know." 

Before Terry could seek more advice, the mechanical roar of the garage door made Marvin nearly spring out of his seat to greet his one true love. 

Outside, Patrice was nearly doubled over from laughter in the front seat. 

Diedra "DeeDee" Richmond was the quintessential Southern black woman. Like a prim and proper belle, she wore her color-treated blonde hair big to match an even bigger personality.  She wore heels with every outfit and never left the house without earrings, but she could also drink and cuss like a sailor. 

When she offered Patrice the chance to tag along for her monthly Sister Circle meeting, there was no chance she'd miss the opportunity to ditch Terry and kick it with the upper crust of Black women. 

"And, girl, Rita thinks we can't tell that she took every one of those appetizers out of the damn freezer section. At least go to the Publix bakery. Finger sandwiches ain't that expensive." 

Amid their gossip session, the garage door's chime caught Dee Dee's attention, effectively ending her one-woman show in favor of giving her husband the eye. Behind him, Terry stood with a nervous smile and puppy dog eyes that he directed at Patrice. 

"Marry a Richmond, child. You'll never lift a finger for the rest of your life. Lord knows I love me some him. Hey, baby!" DeeDee advised as she watched Marvin nearly float to the driver's side to open her door. 

Patrice watched Marvin and DeeDee fawn over each other like teenage lovers until the faint pop of her door opening brought her back to life. 

Terry stood in the gap with his hand out to offer assistance. She accepted without protest, letting him gently pull her from the passenger side with her bags in tow and close the door behind her.

"I missed you." 

Terry's admission came in a sweet voice as he dipped his head to place two chaste kisses on Patrice's lips. Only the knowledge of his parents 10 feet away kept her from turning an innocent display of affection into something vulgar. 

Patrice chased his lips once he pulled away, earning a deep chuckle that vibrated her chest. 

"We kissing in front of the parents now?" 

"Too much," he asked, suddenly embarrassed. 

She used her thumb to wipe lip gloss from his bottom lip before rising to her tip toes to kiss his nose. "No. You're perfect." 

Dee Dee and Marvin watched the young couple giggle at nothing in particular with broad smiles and full hearts. 

"Treece, when's the last time you had some of my red beans and rice?" 

Marvin's question made both of them jump like children caught in the act with the realization that they weren't alone. 

"Way too long," Patrice answered, her stomach almost growling at the mention. 

"Then have dinner with us. We'd love to have you." 

Patrice looked toward Terry for confirmation, making Dee Dee cackle as she started up the stairs into her home. "Child, forget him. Terrence don't run nothing 'round here! Come get this food."

Terry's eyes grew wide at his mother's dismissal while Patrice dissolved into an uncontrollable fit of laughter at his expense on her way into the house. 

"Oh, that's funny," he asked, following her lead. "That's the last time I let y'all hang out unsupervised." 

Three extra hours at Terry's parents' house wasn't enough for the tandem to abandon their new night routine. 

Patrice stood at her bathroom sink, scrubbing the day from her face while Terry made himself comfortable on her closed toilet lid. Sometimes, he read something from Patrice's bookshelf, both preferring to simply exist in the same room. Other times, he watched baseball on his phone and attempted to provide color commentary despite Patrice not showing interest. This time, though, he sat with relaxed shoulders and low eyes while she moved through her beauty routine. 

Something about the sleepytime body wash had him laser-focused on how her legs looked a mile long beneath her nightshirt, oiled to perfection and glistening under the warm vanity lights. He wanted to reach out and touch her. Maybe pull her closer by her thighs and whisper every single nasty thought on his mind below her navel until she promised never to leave his side. 

But, he shook his inner man loose and leaned forward to re-engage with her as she called his name. 

"You know you should use a gentle exfoliant every once in a while. It'll help your breakouts. Use some of my sunscreen, too. It's dangerous for you to let the sun hit your face with no protection."

Blah, blah, blah. Everything she said sounded like a chorus of 1000 angels to him. She could've revealed the cure to cancer, and he would be too lovestruck to notice. 

Knowing his restraint was dwindling, he stood abruptly and stretched his arms above his head with a yawn as she added moisturizer to her face.

Patrice watched him take up space behind her through the mirror, shifting so he could leave something to remember him by on her shoulder and neck. 

"Good night," he spoke between kisses, the words muffled against her skin. 

"Already? It's not that late, is it?" 

"I promised Corey I'd help him with football practice at Francis tomorrow morning."

"He'll run you ragged if you don't speak up." 

"I'll speak up. I promise." 

Using what little space she had, Patrice turned to rest her backside on the counter and face Terry. She used her index finger to hook his gold herringbone chain and bring him down for a kiss. Or kisses. It'd been so long since they could have each other in this way. Time and experience, both together and separately, had them maneuvering like professionals. Each kiss was teasing and sensual in equal measure. A tangible mastery of retreating and aggression made the pursuit of one another worth the wait. 

They'd lost track of their exhibition until Terry's phone buzzing against the toilet seat jolted them back into reality.

Patrice flattened her palms against his chest to create some separation and end what would surely turn into blurred lines if they weren't careful. "Good night, TJ.  Grab that exfoliant out of my shower before you leave. It's in the caddie." 

Terry took the gentle redirection in stride, smiling at her through the mirror before turning to do as she had asked. Patrice used what little focus she could muster to secure her headscarf to her head, desperate to extend her box braids for one more week. 

"What's this?" 

"What's what?" She didn't bother to look away from her task until the low hum of her vibrator caught her attention. She whipped her body around, too stunned to reach for the bright pink toy that had Terry smirking as he examined its buttons. "That is my personal property for personal and private use." 

"When's the last time you used it?" 

"It's been a while. A month or so." Mostly true. She couldn't say she hadn't thought about it more recently.

"Since I've been here?" 

She shrugged. "Kinda hard to get comfortable when there's a person on the other side of the wall." 

The mere sound of the only thing to touch her in two years made the hair on her arms stand at attention. Her eyes darted between the toy and Terry, who made himself familiar with each speed and pattern, cycling through dirty thoughts and intrigue as he held the device against his arm to get a feel for the intensity, 

Setting one? Bearable. A softball. Setting three? Maybe she'd call out his name from the pleasure? Setting seven? Surely, she'd hang on to him like a wet t-shirt on a Playboy model while she rode the crest of her orgasm. 

The possibilities excited him to no end. He needed to test each and every theory.

In two clicks, he returned the toy to its original setting and then off completely, holding it in one hand while taking slow steps to close the gap between him and the only person on his mind. 

She shifted her weight nervously as he approached, unsure how to respond until he towered over her with a look she knew all too well. 

Desire. 

Their senses were heightened. Everything felt surreal, almost as if one misstep could send them flying through a portal back to a more disappointing reality. 

Terry could smell the faint hint of mint on Patrice's breath before dipping his head to nip at her bottom lip with his teeth. She responded like he knew she would by making him work for his prize. Patrice never let him intimidate her. Not for their first time together all those years ago, certainly not now. 

He chuckled before leaning in again, this time leaving a trail of short kisses from her jaw to her clavicle. He inhaled deeply, breathing in vanilla and the subtle spice of his cologne from moments earlier.

Suddenly, Patrice felt weightless. Her feet dangled briefly and without warning as Terry took her from standing to sitting on the cold, hard counter before she could protest. 

Patrice fought for stability, using the peaks and valleys across the expanse of his muscled arms as her anchor in the dizzying experience that was his affection. Her lips parted to draw in sharp breaths and release airy sighs of approval in a feeble attempt to remain present. At the same time, he kissed his appreciation wherever his lips saw fit. Her legs acted under their own power to spread wider and make room for whatever came next. 

Her hands left a trail of tingles as she dragged them from his arms to the back of his head, down the sides of his face, over his tank top, between his pecs, and, finally, into the waistband of his shorts. 

Surprised by her touch, he lurched forward to grab her wrist. "Not this time," he whispered, unsure he meant what he was saying. 

Patrice nodded in understanding, earning a sloppy kiss for her obedience. 

There was no discerning where his mouth ended, and hers began. They were on one accord, hungrily tasting, exploring, and consuming each other without holding back. 

Then, the low hum returned. This time, it was closer than Patrice remembered. 

Cold silicone soon caressed her inner thigh. A low whimper escaped past her lips as she made eye contact with Terry. He leaned close enough to speak against her mouth. 

"You trust me?" 

"Mhmm," she answered, fighting to keep her eyes open as he moved further up her leg. 

"Let me take care of you, then. Take these off for me." 

Trembling fingers latched onto her boyshorts, pushing them to mid-thigh for Terry to take care of the rest. As quickly as he was gone, he'd returned for another taste of her tongue. Languid and unhurried, he used the time to relax her while slowly inching the vibrator to her center. 

Initial contact made her hips buck forward, and her head softly hit the mirror behind her. Terry chased her with sloppy kisses at the base of her neck. 

The slow and steady setting was enough to get her wet and sticky. Terry'd be lying if he said the thought alone didn't have him wanting to renege on his early statement and dive in with reckless abandon. But, he remained steadfast in his pursuit of her pleasure. 

Once the initial shock had worn off, Patrice ground her hips slowly, making small circles while the vibration worked to settle her nerves. Terry took a break from leaving praises in the form of kisses on her throat to smile at his girl. 

"You're beautiful. You know that?"

She gripped his chin and pulled him closer for a fiery kiss that he let her lead. "Yeah. But, I love to hear you say it." 

"Good," he answered, grinning at her confidence as he upped the intensity on her vibrator. Her eyes clamped shut as her entire body tensed. "Stay with me." 

A deep, steadying breath turned into a silent scream as Patrice gave in to the natural urge to hold her breath. Terry used his free hand to sneak up her tank top and grope one breast while pressing his lips to her ear. 

"Breathe, baby. In and out." He modeled the behavior until she found the strength to match his tempo. "There you go. You feel good?" 

"Yes, yes," she whisper-chanted to the ceiling, her head thrown back in unimaginable euphoria. 

"I want you to feel this good every day. You deserve it, right?" 

A twisting, turning feeling at the pit of her stomach forced her to draw in a deep breath to steady herself. Her answer came in a soft moan. "Right." 

"Damn right." Pressing his forehead to hers, he zeroed in on each of her features twisted in unthinkable pleasure. 

She kept her mouth open to sigh and moan as she saw fit. Her nostrils flared in a rhythm as she tried to force herself to breathe through every peak and valley of the moment. Her brows were knitted, and her eyes closed as if she were too afraid to look at him. He wondered what she was thinking. 

Did she want him inside of her as much as he wanted the same for himself? Was she yearning for more pressure? Could she feel how much he loved her?

"Don't get quiet on me. I want everything. Let 'em hear you. You need more?" 

A quick glance down helped him reposition the vibrator on her already sensitive bud, earning a guttural curse as appreciation for his good deed. 

"Fuck! Don't move. Please don't move." 

Terry obliged for the moment, too entranced by his view of her flower on full display for his viewing pleasure. Glistening. Wet. Beautiful. Appetizing like nothing he'd ever seen before. He pulled the toy away and replaced its presence with his thumb. Slow circles and firm pressure made her want to close her legs to escape the overwhelming stimulation, but her attempt was futile. She was at his mercy. 

"Damn," he whispered to himself, enamored by the way her body reacted to his touch. 

Every revolution around her clit brought with it more wetness at her entrance and indentations in his arms from her nails gripping for dear life. 

It wasn't enough to touch her. He needed to taste. 

Using his middle and ring fingers, he teased his introduction with gentle brushes against her inner lips. She keened for more against his mouth as she held his face close. He granted her wish and pushed into her slowly, immediately feeling her warmth envelop his long digits. 

Their mouths hung open, breaths being traded between the two as he set a slow pace. Not enough to bring forth a release. Just enough for Terry to get what he came for. 

Removing his fingers left him with a coating of clear arousal nearly dripping to his knuckles. Patrice watched him as he smirked at the sight, examining it like a jeweler appraising precious diamonds. 

When he'd seen enough, he put both fingers into his mouth and closed his eyes to savor the taste. Patrice's mouth hung open as if waiting for her turn to experience the wonders of her juices. 

Had she closed her eyes for even a second, she would have missed Terry extending his tongue from his mouth to allow a mixture of his saliva and her essence the chance to slide from his tongue in anticipation of a new host. 

Something profound and hungry within her made her lean her head back and hold her tongue out to receive all that he had to give. It excited her, delighted her, and aroused her like never before.

Like a lewd work of art, spit connected their tongues in what would otherwise be seen as an infraction among more proper circles. But fuckin' wasn't proper, and all forms of affection were welcomed in their home. 

Almost immediately, Terry rushed to reward her with a wild and frenzied kiss that nearly surprised him. 

Primal. Carnal. Intense. Fucking disgusting. He loved every minute of it.

The race was on. Terry kept their lips connected as he returned the vibrator to her clit, dialing up the settings to a level below their max. 

Patrice's moans and his couldn't be distinguished from one another. Her hips bucked wildly. Her fingernails left marks in their wake as they scratched at his arms and back. Her body twitched and seized in anticipation of the inevitable. 

"Oh my - fuck!" Satisfied tears slid from the corners of her eyes and down her cheeks to her man's awaiting lips. "Terrence!" 

Terry remained locked in. A man possessed. A one-track mind focused on nothing other than completing the mission. 

The first stage of her orgasm came without a warning. Heat washed over her as if she'd stepped outside at high noon, making her skin almost unbearable to live in. Her toes curled, her voice caught in her throat despite the intense desire to release a scream from the depths of her soul into the atmosphere. 

She thanked Terry and God in Heaven for blessing her with the opportunity to touch the moon and the stars without ever leaving her home. Terry used his free hand to grip and massage her thighs, knowing that the best was yet to come. 

Patrice's voice began to climb as the main event approached. Shallow breaths gave way to loud gasps for air, which came rapidly while she did the same. She was suspended in a beautiful bliss and already sad about the prospect of coming down. 

Her lover reveled in the opportunity to see her unraveling at the seams. 

"I'll always come back to you, beautiful. No matter what, okay? Look at me." His request earned intense focus from Patrice under hooded eyes. "You're so pretty. Say it back to me. Tell me you're pretty."

"I'm so pretty!" Impending release sent all her words out in one breathless sentence. 

He smiled at her compliance. "I know you're close. Hold my hand."

Her fingers scrambled against the counter, filling the spaces between his fingers and gripping with enough force to turn her knuckles a lighter shade of brown. 

"That's my girl. I love you," was all he could manage before Patrice let out something akin to a squeal, turning his declaration into background fodder. 

Sensitive, overstimulated, and completely spent, the after-effects of her release had her panting to recover. Her ears rang with a heady feeling that could only be compared to a few puffs of homegrown bud. 

Terry held her through it all, propping her up while her body sagged against him for stability. He put aside the vibrator to run his palms up and down her legs while he showered her temple with whispered praises and sweet kisses. 

He waited until her breathing was even before gingerly pressing his forehead to hers. "You good?" 

His smirk was incredibly smug. He was proud of himself, and for good reason. She was open to giving credit where credit was due. 

"You can never leave this house without me again. I hope you're happy." 

"That's the whole point. My granny taught me some things during them summers down in New Orleans, you know?" 

"Oh, so this is some magic shit?" 

"Family business, baby. Gotta have the last name to find out." A playful glint in his eyes and a squeeze to her waist made Patrice's stomach feel butterflies that she thought would never return. Terry tapped her nose with his index finger and stepped back. "Stay put. I'll clean you up." 

Patrice scoffed. Stay put. As if she could go anywhere. As if she wanted to go anywhere.

Like the perfect gentleman, Terry was tender with his care. A warm towel to soothe sore muscles and ensure a thorough cleanup was mandatory. The extra loving was complimentary for only his favorite lady. 

"Stay with me tonight," Patrice requested as he slid her panties back up her legs. 

He shook his head and smiled while prompting her to lift her hips. "I don't know if that's a good idea, Treecey." 

"I just wanna be next to you. Nothing more." 

Terry regarded her doe-eyed plea with a small smile as he helped her off the counter. He pulled her into an embrace, fiending for one more kiss. She obliged happily until he'd had his fill. 

His hands slid from her sides to her ass for a generous squeeze before answering. 

"Okay. Whatever you want. Let me handle something real quick, and then I'll meet you there." 

Patrice accepted her victory with a silly happy dance before turning to make enough room in her bed for an extra person. Terry sent her on her way with a light tap to her ass, amused by how something as simple as sleeping next to each other was exciting for her. 

Once she was safely out of the bathroom with the door shut behind her, he finally found time to take a deep breath and compose himself. The actual test of his strength was in the next room, and he couldn't risk the trust he'd worked so hard to build. 

After adjusting his shorts, he picked up his phone and sat on the toilet lid, hoping that watching dog videos or Nationals highlights would clear his mind.

He had every intention of opening the web browser on his phone until he noticed a series of messages from an old friend.

From: McBride 

You check your mail? 

Trial against chief starts in two weeks. Gonna need you to testify to take him down

Know you said you weren’t coming back

Do it for Mike

---

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @oniccah @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @deja-r

[ask-me-later23]

Weathering the Storm.

Spencer Reid x Reader in which Spencer comforts reader while they work through their intense storm anxiety.

Warnings: severe anxiety/fears of thunder and lightning.

A/N: I know this isn't everyone's cup of tea but hurricane is currently hitting FL and this is how I am coping. It might not help everyone but it helped meeee.

The noise was too much. It was all too much.

Between the quick flashes of light, the intense roars that followed, and the incessant scraping of branches against your window, it was all just too much.

It didn’t start off slowly, as you were used to with storms. No, this morning it seemed like the perfect fall day when you went to get coffee just down the block. You could even remember enjoying the soft breeze that brushed against you as you walked. This all seemed so far ago, so far away. 

The clouds rolled in quickly, followed in suit by the zips of lightning in the distance, and the grumbling that seemed to mock you. You hardly made it back inside before they began taunting you in full force. 

At any other moment you might have found this scene humorous. You’ve seen true horrors everyday, come face-to-face with real life monsters on a regular basis, yet here you are: sobbing and quivering over a thunderstorm. Brought to your knees by mother nature. 

But it is not any other moment. Right now you can’t even think straight. All you can focus on is how loud everything is. You clamp your hands over your ears in attempts to muffle the world around you, but it seeps through. It always does. 

A loud rapping at your door startles you, forcing out a loud whimper. Panic begins to set in. What happened? Is someone hurt? What’s going on? All questions you had no answers too. You hear the raps again, softer this time.

Suddenly, through the panicked haze, you remember Spencer was supposed to come over and drop off some case files. You attempt to move towards the door from your corner, but find all of your limbs refuse to answer to you anymore. Your fingers remain clenched to your head, and your legs are stuck curled up in front of you. Another whimper escapes your lips.

A moment passes and you think he gave up on you and left, but then you can hear the soft creak of the door being opened. How did he get in here? What if it isn’t him? What if it’s an intruder? What if-

“Y/N? The door was unlocked, I thought I heard something. Are yo-” Spencers concerned voice suddenly halts and footsteps begin rushing over to your currently hunched over body. 

“What happened? Are you okay?” You feel him kneel down next to you, a warm hand places itself on your knee, but your body jerks away from the sudden contact. His gaze burns a hole into the top of your head, but you can’t force yourself to look up and open your eyes. 

Suddenly another loud BANG goes off outside, sounding every single alarm inside your head once more, and you recoil from the noise. You hear Spencer readjust on the cold floor.

“The storm,” he whispers. Despite the softness to his tone, there is no question or uncertainty to his voice. 

You hear more shuffling, followed by footsteps walking away, and are suddenly worried he’s going to leave you. He didn’t sign up to be here for this, for you. He just came to drop off files. You might have a close bond but that does not mean he’s obligated to help. A soft sob escapes your lips, and then you hear the footsteps coming back towards you. 

“Shhh… It’s okay.” You feel him sit back down next to you. “You know it’s actually a myth that lightning can’t strike two places in the same spot. There are hundreds of places where lightning can strike twice. The Empire State Building gets struck about 100 times a year.” He moves closer. “Astraphobia is the actual name for an intense fear of thunder and lightning, and it is the third most common phobia in America. However, your actual chances of being struck by lightning are about 1 in 12,000.”

Slowly, you feel him brushing your back gently. This time you do not flinch. 

“In 1955 there was this huge thunderstorm in Belgium that set off over 40,000 pounds of explosives left over from the battle of Messines in World War 1. But the only casualty was a single cow.” You are enveloped in warmth that you didn’t know you needed as he slowly places a blanket over your shoulders. 

You can slowly start to feel yourself relaxing as you focus on his words. You stop shaking and your breathing begins to slow. “There’s a thunderstorm that forms regularly over Tiwi Islands that they named ‘Hector the Convector’ from September to March.” He pulls you in closer, hugging you tightly with one arm through the blanket. You slowly regain feeling into your limbs and lean into him. 

“Aristotle used to believe that thunder was caused by a collision of the clouds,” he continued his rambling as he cupped his other hand across your face.

“Thank you,” you manage to croak out. He wipes the tears away from your face and you finally manage to look up at him. His disheveled curls looked all over the place, yet framed his face perfectly. His brows were pushed together and the corners of his lips turned down in concern. “You don’t have to stay…it’s okay.”

As if wanting to make you seem a fool, mother nature sent another loud roar your way, causing you to shrink right back into his arms. “I’m not going anywhere until I know you’re okay.” His arms gripped you securely. 

You both stay there for the rest of the night, even after the clouds dissipate and the storm calms. You don’t say much, just sit wrapped in each other’s arms in comfort.

[yuri-is-online]

I can't believe it took me this long to notice that Ace's newest birthday groovy has him without his facepaint. It makes sense, why would you sleep in that? But now I'm just imagining the first time Yuu really sees Ace's face "naked" (assuming that they didnt see/pay attention his first few nights at Ramshackle, they had bigger things to focus on like being isekai'd, the ghosts and whether or not their bed is gonna give them tetanus) and getting flustered because for some reason that feels too intimate! Put your makeup back on, whore! (Deuce is just like "Should I put mine on too"? 💦)

this is such a cute little slice of life concept ♡

Yuu goes to drop something off for the Headmage at Heartslabyul and asks Riddle if it's ok to swing by adeuce's room just to say high. Riddle decides that's ok! Just so long as Yuu makes sure to head back before curfew and they promise (fingers crossed behind their back) so off they go to say hello. Maybe they really just weren't paying attention the first few times around or maybe Ace just didn't bother wiping off the makeup the first time he stayed over. Either way Yuu pops in to say hello and teases Deuce a bit about whatever happened during the day and then Ace walks in.

Just like any good shoujo, time slows down when the cranky ginger tsundere walks in. It's been a long day! He had basketball practice and oh hello Yuu what are you doing here? Maybe Ace cracks a joke about how you "missed him that much huh" and "couldn't stay away" but you don't hear him because your thought process has turned into static.

"Yuu?" He's actually worried now, you look a little sick.

"P-put your make up back on! You look naked without it!" And then you book it out of the dorm while he sits there confused, trying to do the math in his head if this means you might like him too.

"Should I put mine on too?" Deuce is so genuinely distressed by this he probably apologizes the next morning burying you and Ace under even more embarrassment lol

[thelonelyshore-if]

Croft Drabble

Or, Croft wakes up next to MC for the first time.

Yellow-tinged dawn light leaks in through the gaps in the blinds. 

The bedroom is warm, much warmer than they’d like, and something sharp is digging into their eyebrow. Croft sleepily reaches up, slowly drawing awake as they fumble for their piercing there, worried it’s gotten caught on something.

Instead they find a paw reaching out and poking them.

“Bones, lemme be,” they mumble, still mostly asleep. They turn their back on their cat, ready to burrow deeper under the covers. Maybe if she can’t reach them she’ll leave them alone.

They manage to roll over without issue. The problem comes when they bump into something warm and solid and altogether surprising. Their heart leaps into their throat as they feel your weight shift against their torso. 

Right. You stayed over last night.

The proximity between your two bodies is small enough that Croft can feel the warmth of your skin. They lay pinned between your sleeping form and their hungry cat. Shit, shit, shit.

Croft needs to figure out what the hell their next step is.

It's still early enough that the room is bathed in darkness. The morning glow from the window outlines you in dull light. They watch the slow rise and fall of your chest, mind spinning and mouth dry. You appear to be soundly asleep.

Which is good, because Croft is freaking out. 

They need to think about this, but they’re struggling to make sense of anything when you’re so close to them that any shift of their body shrinks the space between you. Bones mews in their ear and they want to push her away, but they don’t dare risk waking you. They’re completely paralyzed.

Where are they supposed to put their arms? Can they wrap them around you? Are they allowed? You stayed over, and their body buzzes with the memory of the night before, but this feels so intimate. So close. It’s been years since they’ve woken up beside somebody, and they’ve forgotten all the rules.

Bones hmmphs, halfheartedly pawing at their face one last time before hopping off the bed. Thank god. They need a minute to think, and her begging for breakfast isn’t making this any easier.

Their eyes trace the backlit lines of your body with an interest that isn’t nearly as detached as they’d like. An anxious, fluttering sort of feeling blossoms in their chest. 

Butterflies in the stomach is an apt description, but so cliché. A torso full of insects is a concept made for horror, and yet it's a descriptor so often used in romance. They’re briefly distracted when they wonder at the origin of the idiom. A familiar annoyance unfurls when they remember they can't just look it up. 

Focus. They need to think. You'll wake up eventually, and they need to figure out how to be normal when you do. 

Croft’s breath hitches when you roll over. Panic sets their thoughts unraveling when, for a moment, they’re worried you’ve woken. They’re not ready, they don’t know what to say. They scoot backward in the bed, trying to put more space between you for no reason other than their own uncertainty. Thankfully, you remain asleep.

Your eyes are closed, expression lax. Peaceful. Your lips hang open, the soft curve of them a siren's song. Croft remembers how those lips felt against theirs, hot and eager, and–

Wait. Frustration flares and they’re sidetracked again. Another cliché. A siren's song. Basic and unimaginative. Can they really come up with no better way to frame their own desire? Especially when it consumes them so thoroughly that just the thought of last night sets their cheeks on fire. There must be something better. They lose themself for a moment in trying to find the right words.

Croft closes their eyes, silently chiding themself. Their thoughts aren't a narrative, a garden of words needing to be pruned down to the roots with shears until they resemble something half passable. 

It's just…they're so nervous. Easier to berate themself for thinking in clichés then focus on the pit of dread in their gut. 

No, not dread, this isn't one of their novels and they don't dread this. It's the wrong word, it's more like terror and fuck that isn't right, either, and they're doing it again. Spiraling into the word choice for the book they're writing in their head rather than dealing with the storm of emotions pinning them to the bed like a butterfly being pinned under glass and– 

You move closer, shifting your body until you’re nuzzling into them. 

Croft stops. Stops thinking, stops breathing, stops being. 

They don’t dare move. You’re so close. They still don’t know where to put their arms, but apparently you want to be close to them. They hesitantly wrap one arm around you and you make a noise, a pleased little sigh that makes them want to cry. The way you press against them shuts off their brain.

You stir.

“What time ‘s it?” you mumble. 

“No idea,” they answer, voice breathy. Uncertain. They can hardly believe you’re here.

“‘Kay.”

You smile against their chest. Your breath is hot. It tickles, and Croft’s breath hitches when you press a kiss to their sternum. 

Croft feels like they're going to throw up. Or cry. Or maybe both. 

You just feel so fucking good. You slot together perfectly, like you were made to lay interlocked in each other's arms. They lay frozen, but steadily they find themself relaxing again. You’ve drifted back to sleep. Minutes drag past and the tension in their muscles bleeds away. 

Focusing is impossible when you’re pressed so tight against them. It’s like their thoughts want to race, like they always do. The panic wants to reappear, to send them in a flurry of anxiety and uncertainty. But instead all they can think about you.

And it’s beautiful. Wonderful. Croft shifts until their face is pressed in the curve of your neck. They breathe in the scent of you. Marvel in the feeling of you. Slowly, slowly, sleep starts to overcome them.

They don’t fight it. Why would they? You’re here, and this is exactly where they want to be.

[earthtoharlow]

Don’t Like The Lights

Sequel to Flashing Lights series, must read Flashing Lights first to understand

Series Masterlist

16. March 14th

It was late and Maryse was exhausted, lying in bed next to Jack. She shifted under the covers and looked over at him before sighing, seeing him sleeping peacefully. The twins had been particularly active that night, kicking and moving making it hard to get in a comfortable position. At this point she was going to sign them up at Mockingbird Valley as soon as they were born. 

She rubbed her belly, feeling another kick, but this time something was different. A sharp pain shot through her abdomen, taking her breath away. At first, she thought it was just the babies being active again, but as the pain grew stronger, she realized this wasn’t just kicking..

Maryse reached for Jack, who was still snoring next to her. “Babe…Jack…I think it’s happening,” she said as she started shaking him awake.

Jack sat up immediately, now wide awake. “What? You aren’t due for another few weeks!” 

Tears welled up in her eyes as the pain intensified. “I know…it’s too early.” She whispered loudly, starting to panic. “It’s too soon, they’re not ready!”

Jack quickly got out of the bed, throwing on sweat sweatpants and a hoodie. Reaching for the hospital bag they had prepared weeks ago. “Hey, it’s okay. Let’s just get you to the hospital.” 

Tears rolled down Maryse’s cheeks as she shook her head. “But what if something goes wrong? I’m not ready, I’m—”

“We got this,” Jack interrupted, his voice firm but gentle. “You’re strong, and our babies are going to be just fine. You’ve been carrying them for months, and they’re ready to meet us.”

She nodded weakly, still scared, but his words settled some of the fear bubbling inside her. “Okay,” she whispered, letting him help her toward the car.

With a reassuring squeeze of her hand, Jack said, “Let’s go meet our babies.”

As they sped through the dark streets, the hospital still a few miles away, Jack kept one hand on the wheel and the other resting gently on Maryse’s thigh. She was gripping her belly, her breathing controlled but strained as another contraction came and went. The tension in the car was intense and Jack wanted to lighten it up. 

With a slight grin, he glanced over at her, his voice playful. “You know… if we time this right, they’ll probably end up being born the day after me.” His birthday was a few short hours ago as it was now past midnight. 

Maryse, between deep breaths, shot him a tired but amused look. “You seriously think you’re that lucky?” 

He chuckled, turning his attention back to the road for a second before looking at her again. “Hey, I’m just saying… twins love a grand entrance. They want their own day but close enough to remind everyone who their dad is.”

Her eyes fluttered shut as she braced through another contraction, and for a moment, he thought maybe his light-hearted joke wasn’t working. But as the pain lessened, she turned to him with a small smirk. “Let’s just hope they’re not as dramatic as their dad.”

He laughed softly, the sound a brief comfort in the intensity of the moment. “I don’t know about that. If they’ve got even half of your fire, we’re in for it.”

When they finally arrived, the doctors confirmed that she was indeed in labor but only three centimeters dilated. “You’ve got some hours to go,” the nurse with a sympathetic smile, helping her adjust the bed for comfort.

As Maryse tried to focus on her breathing, Jack sat beside her, tapping his fingers on the bedside table. At first, it was a soft rhythm, something to distract himself from the nerves, but it soon became obvious he was making a beat out of the rhythm of her breathing.

Maryse clenched her jaw, exhaling sharply. “If you don’t stop tapping,” she said through gritted teeth, “I’m going to get really mad.”

Jack froze mid-tap, eyes wide, then sheepishly pulled his hand away from the table. “Sorry, just trying to help,” he muttered, a crooked grin forming.

She shot him a look but then sighed, leaning back into her pillows. “Maybe help by not turning my labor into a mixtape.”

“Noted,” he said, settling back, a little quieter but still grinning.

In between contractions, Maryse looked up at Jack with a weak smile. “I’m hungry,” she whispered, her voice laced with exhaustion. “Can you get me something?”

Jack, eager to help, nodded quickly. “I got you,” he said, rushing out of the room.

A few minutes later, he returned, his arms overflowing with snacks—chips, candy, granola bars, a banana, even a couple of drinks. “I, uh… I wasn’t sure what you could have, so I just grabbed everything,” he admitted sheepishly, holding up the pile.

Maryse blinked at the assortment, then gave a small laugh despite the situation. “I can’t eat half of that, but I appreciate the effort.”

“Which one can you eat?” Jack asked, looking a little lost.

She pointed to the banana and granola bar. “Those will do. Thanks, baby.”

He handed them over, still looking concerned. “I’ll eat the rest,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood, but his eyes stayed glued to her, watching her every move with worry as she nibbled at the food between breaths.

“You should probably call your parents… and mine,” she said, in between bites

Jack hesitated, not wanting to leave her side for even a second, but nodded. “Okay, I’ll call them. But I’m not going far.”

Maryse squeezed his hand, appreciating his presence. “I know. Just… tell them it’s happening.”

Before Jack walked out the room Maryse stopped him. “Hey, babe?”

Jack turned around, “I love you, and so happy to be on this journey with you.”

She could see him getting emotional, Jack walked back and pressed a long kiss to her forehead, and then to her lips. “I love you more.”

“Yuck.” Maryse says with a grin before pushing him away. “Now, go call our parents and Urban so you can relax a bit.” 

He kissed her forehead softly before stepping aside, pulling out his phone. “Hey, Mrs, Monet” he began quietly, trying to keep his voice calm, though the excitement and worry were palpable. “Sorry, Margot… It’s time. We’re at the hospital… yeah, for real this time.”

As he made the calls, Maryse breathed deeply, bracing herself for the next contraction. Knowing their families would be there soon brought her a bit of comfort. Even though things were happening faster than expected, she felt better with Jack by her side and their loved ones on the way.

Jack came back into the room after stepping out to make the call, his face slightly flushed from rushing back to her side. He took a seat next to Maryse, gently lifting her hand again.

“I just got off the phone with your parents,” he said, his voice calm. “They’re taking the next flight out from New York, but they probably won’t make it before the babies are born.”

Maryse let out a soft sigh, her face showing a mix of disappointment and anxiety. “I was hoping they’d be here in time.”

“I know, baby, but my mom and dad are on their way. They’ll be here soon,” he reassured her, squeezing her hand. “My mom’s gonna bring all the calm energy you need.”

She forced a smile through the pain, “Good. I need that right now.”

Jack leaned in and kissed her temple, his thumb gently rubbing her palm. “You’re doing amazing. Just a little longer, and we’ll have them here.”

She nodded, trying to focus on his words instead of the contractions. “You’re staying with me the whole time, right?”

“Of course. I’m not leaving your side,” he promised, his eyes steady on hers.

Maryse smiled and gave him a tired look, wincing as another contraction rolled through.

“Hey, Urban just got here. He’s in the waiting room.”

“Good. Maybe he can take some of your nervous energy because it’s making me nervous too.”

Jack chuckled, trying to play it cool but knowing she could read him better than anyone. “I’m not that nervous.”

She raised an eyebrow and let out a small huff, “Babe, I can see you tapping your foot like you’re working on a beat, again!”

He looked down, noticing his foot bouncing anxiously, and sheepishly smiled. “Alright, maybe I’m a little worked up.”

“Go tell him to come in here,” Maryse added, squeezing his hand, “Maybe he can calm you down.”

Jack nodded, standing up. “I’ll bring him in,” he said, giving her hand one last reassuring squeeze before heading out to get his friend.

When Maryse saw Urban walk in, holding his film camera with a mischievous grin, she narrowed her eyes at him. “You really brought a camera in here?”

Urban shrugged, still grinning. “Gotta document the moment, right?”

She let out a low groan as another contraction hit, her face scrunching up in pain. “I’m in way too much pain to yell at you right now… but trust me, I’ll make up for it later.”

Urban chuckled, holding up the camera defensively. “Hey, I’m just capturing memories.”

“I better appreciate these photos when this is all over,” she muttered, shifting uncomfortably as the pain intensified. “Because I swear, if I look like a mess in them, you’re gonna regret it.”

Jack chuckled, rubbing her back. “You’ll look amazing—“

Maryse gave him a tired side-eye. “Whatever.” But deep down, she knew she’d treasure the moments Urban was capturing.

Just as another wave of pain hit, Jack’s parents finally arrived. Maggie swept into the room, her eyes immediately going to Maryse, taking in her exhaustion. She wasted no time.

“You two,” she pointed at Jack and Urban, “go get some coffee. I can tell you’ve been getting on her nerves.”

Jack blinked in disbelief. “I haven’t! I’ve been—”

Maryse shot him a look, eyebrow raised. He fell silent, his argument dying before it began.

Maggie gave him a knowing smile. “Mmhmm. Go on. We’ll keep her company for a bit.”

Urban snickered, nudging Jack as they reluctantly headed for the door. “Told you she’d notice.”

Jack grumbled, glancing back at Maryse as she waved him off, already more relaxed with his mom by her side. “Yeah, yeah. We won’t be long,” he muttered, trying to salvage a little pride.

Maryse just smirked, leaning into his mom’s comforting presence as they left the room.

Maggie turned to Maryse with a gentle smile. “How are you doing, sweetheart? Feeling okay? I really hope he’s not driving you too crazy in here.”

She let out a tired chuckle, her body relaxing a bit now that the room was quieter. “Honestly, he’s been doing great. He’s just… really nervous, and it’s kind of rubbing off on me. But he’s been sweet.”

She nodded, her eyes soft with understanding. “He gets that way when he cares a lot. I’m so happy for you two. This is such an exciting time.”

Maryse smiled, her eyes tearing up a little. “Thanks… I can’t believe this is actually happening.”

His mom leaned over, squeezing her hand. “You’re going to be amazing parents. Both of you.”

That reassurance settled something in Maryse, the warmth of it wrapping around her like a blanket.

A few minutes later, Jack popped his head back into the room, grinning like a kid caught sneaking candy. “Can I come back in now? I miss you,” he said, eyes soft as they landed on Maryse.

She rolled her eyes, trying to suppress a smile. “You’re so cheesy,” she muttered, but the warmth in her voice gave her away. No matter how much she pretended to be annoyed, that sweetness was exactly what she needed right now.

His mom laughed, patting his shoulder as she passed him on her way out. “Alright, you two, I’ll let you have your moment.”

Jack quickly walked over to her bedside, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “I can’t help it,” he said softly. “I love you.”

Maryse rolled her eyes again, but this time, she smiled wide. “Ew. You really do.”

Before he could respond, her face scrunched in discomfort. She gripped Jack’s hand tightly, her voice shaking. “Get the doctor or nurse, please,” she urged, barely able to keep her breath steady.

Jack’s eyes widened with concern as he quickly stood up, rushing to the door and calling for help. A nurse hurried in within moments, checking Maryse over before nodding. “It’s time. You’re ready to push.”

Panic mixed with excitement flashed across Jack’s face as the room suddenly buzzed with activity. The nurses quickly started prepping everything while another handed him a set of scrubs. “We need to get you into these now,” she instructed.

Jack fumbled with the clothes, his hands shaking as he tried to put them on. He glanced back at Maryse, who was focused on breathing through the pain. He could tell she was terrified, but there was no time to dwell on that now. He had to be there for her.

“You got this, baby,” he called out, though his own nerves were showing. He finally got dressed and rushed back to her side, ready to hold her hand through what was about to happen.

Maryse gave him a tired but determined look. “You better be right here the whole time,” she said between breaths.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, squeezing her hand as the doctor arrived.

The doctor stood at the foot of the bed, ready for the arrival of their twins. “Alright, Mrs. Harlow, it’s time to push. Give me a big one,” the doctor said, voice calm yet firm.

Maryse didn’t even register being called “Mrs. Harlow,” too focused on the overwhelming pressure and pain. Her entire body trembled as she braced herself, gripping Jack’s hand so tightly that he winced, but he didn’t dare complain.

“You’re doing amazing, babe,” Jack encouraged, his voice soft but steady. “Just breathe. I’m right here. You’ve got this.”

With a final push, their son was born. His tiny cry pierced the air almost immediately, bringing both of them to tears. “It’s a boy!” the doctor announced, but before they could fully process it, the doctor encouraged her to push again. “One more, you’re doing great!”

But before she could catch her breath, the next contraction hit, signaling it was time for their second baby. “You’re almost there,” Jack reassured her. “One more. You can do this.”

She bore down, pushing with all her strength. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and the room seemed to fade around her, everything focusing on the task at hand. She groaned with the effort, her face contorting in pain, but she didn’t stop. The sound of the doctor’s calm instructions blended with Jack’s reassuring words, both keeping her going.

Jack leaned in, kissing the side of her forehead, his heart racing as much as hers. “Just a little more, baby, you’re almost done.”

Maryse screamed as she gave one last push, The doctor held her up, but the room fell into an eerie silence—she didn't cry

Her heart dropped. She looked over at Jack, panic in her eyes, and she squeezed his hand even tighter. “Why isn’t she crying? What’s wrong?”

Jack’s face paled, his eyes glued to their baby. “Come on, baby girl,” he whispered under his breath, his voice trembling. “Come on.”

The seconds felt like hours. The nurses quickly began rubbing her back, gently stimulating her, and finally, after what felt like an eternity, the sweetest sound filled the room—a tiny, soft cry.

Both Maryse and Jack let out a breath they didn’t realize they were holding, tears streaming down their faces. “She’s okay,” the doctor reassured them, “Sometimes it just takes them a minute.”

Jack’s legs almost gave out from the relief as he leaned over to kiss Maryse's forehead. “She’s okay,” he whispered, voice cracking. “They’re both okay.”

Once the nurses had cleaned the babies, they gently placed one in each of their arms. Maryse cradled the first twin, their son, while Jack held their daughter, his face lit with awe. The room was quieter now, the cries subsiding into soft coos, and the nurses hovered nearby, curious as they asked the question.

“So, what are their names?” one nurse asked, a smile on her face.

Maryse looked up at Jack, her heart swelling. This was the moment they’d talked about, dreamed about. She shifted her gaze back down to the tiny face in her arms, brushing a finger softly across her son’s cheek.

“Noah Thomas,” she said softly, pride and emotion lacing her voice.

Jack smiled, glancing down at their daughter, who was already settling in his arms like she knew she belonged there. “And this little one is London Paige,” he added, his voice full of warmth.

The nurses beamed. “Beautiful names,” one of them said, making a note on the clipboard.

As they looked down at their children, Maryse and Jack exchanged a glance, both overwhelmed by the love and responsibility that had just entered their lives. Noah, with his tiny features that mirrored Maryse, and London, with her resemblance to Jack, made the moment feel even more surreal.

“They’re perfect,” Jack whispered, leaning in to kiss Maryse's forehead again, unable to tear his eyes away from their babies.

Maryse smiled tiredly. “Yeah, they really are.”

The nurses gently took Noah and London to the adjoining station to check their vitals, Jack turned his full attention to Maryse. He leaned closer, cupping her face in his hands, brushing his lips against her forehead, her cheeks, and finally planting soft kisses all over her face.

“I’m so happy right now,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You did amazing, babe. I can’t believe we just brought two beautiful babies into the world.”

Maryse laughed lightly, still feeling a mixture of exhaustion and exhilaration. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” she replied, her eyes sparkling with tears of happiness. “You were right there with me the whole time.”

Jack nodded, his eyes shining. “And I wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else. You’re incredible.” He paused, watching her with a tenderness that made her heart swell.

“I can’t believe we’re parents now.”

“Right? We are really doing this,” he replied, grinning ear to ear, his voice filled with excitement.

Just then, the nurses returned with the twins, both of them sleeping peacefully in their tiny blankets. “They’re doing great!” one of the nurses announced, beaming at the new parents. “Everything looks perfect.”

Jack’s eyes lit up as they approached, and he turned back to Maryse. “Look at them,” he said, pride swelling in his chest. “We made those little miracles.”

Maryse couldn’t help but smile as she watched him fall into that instant connection with their children. “They’re our world now,” she said softly.

She leaned back against the hospital pillow, she couldn’t help but smile at Jack, who stood by the bassinet, completely mesmerized by the tiny babies they had just brought into the world. She watched him, his eyes wide and full of love, and felt a warmth spread through her chest. All the pain and stress they had just endured felt like a distant memory. Before the exhaustion pulled her under, her mind wandered back to the whirlwind of the past year.

From the dizzying heights of success with her music career to the unexpected news of her pregnancy, it had all felt like a beautiful, chaotic dream. 

Their late-night talks, the way he made her laugh when she was feeling down, and the countless times he had gently reminded her of her strength—it all played like a montage in her mind. The stalker incident, the Super Bowl performance, and the challenges of preparing for two little ones felt like a lifetime ago. Yet here they were, parents of two, ready to take on whatever came next.

She glanced at Jack again, who was still transfixed by the babies, his expression a mix of awe and pride. That sight filled her with warmth, and as her eyelids grew heavier, she felt a sense of gratitude wash over her. They had fought through it all together, and now, with their family finally complete, she knew they could handle anything.

***

AN: EVERYONE SCREAMMMMMM!!! Noah & London are hereeeeee ;) a day after Jack's birthday of course poor maryse haha please let me know what you think and if you like their names 🫶

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[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Good evening (or morning, afternoon, wherever u r) to you, Miss Raven, *tips hat* How do you do?

First of all, I was reading through the your canon Malleus romance analysis and i’ve just gotta say I love how you give a realistic approach to these characters and their world! 🙌🏻

But that also got me thinking, how would Leona prioritize his romantic vs royal life?

As second born prince, I wanna say Leona actually has more breathing room to pick whoever he wants as a partner (if the royal family doesn’t arrange a marriage before he gets that chance), plus, the Sunset Savanna’s next heir apparent is already born, so really there’s nothing worry about succession unless something happens to Cheka and or Falena. But at the same time Leona is still ridiculed by his people, so will that have any affect on who he wants to be with if he happens to choose someone other than another beast(wo)man or someone in a class lower than a noble?

And even tho he isn’t first in line for the throne, Leona is still royalty. I think he could pick a partner who is more private and less sociable with their life, but I also think they still might need to be prepared for the royal life, lack of privacy, speaking with the public, and other royal duties (even if Leona himself won’t do them).

TL;DR Do you think Leona’s status as second prince actually gives him a benefit for who he can pick as a romantic partner and how would the people’s view on him affect this, and what do you think would expected of Leona’s partner in the royal life even tho he’s not first in line for the throne?

What’s your take on this?

Related posts: Malleus / Kalim

Greetings 🎵 Life’s been a bit stressful lately, but I’m getting by! Busy planning something big for the blog too, so excited for that.

I think you must be talking about that post where I discussed what the expectations would probably be for Malleus’s future spouse? Thank you for the praise though! While anyone can ship themselves or their OC with Malleus in the latter, there’s certain in-universe logic that must be followed in the former. It feels very different to be a character in that world versus an outsider looking in. Being able to switch and see from those perspectives is important, I feel.

My thoughts on this topic aren't as concrete as what I laid out for my Malleus post, mostly because we don't know as much about Sunset Savanna's politics and since Leona isn't burdened by the same expectations as the crown prince or first in line to the throne. I feel like this post will be a lot of speculation, so just be cognizant of that.

As Leona is right now, I don't think he has much of an interest or an obligation to find someone. His focus seems to be on tending to himself and his own goals to help those around him, be it his juniors (Epel, Jack, Ruggie, etc.) or his country (due to his internship at a energy and mining lab). I definitely feel like that's where his priorities lie, and anyone he might take on as a life partner would also have to have a passion and dedication for this kind of service, whether they also engage in it or they at least support Leona's endeavors.

I also think that Leona would personally want an intelligent partner that's able to hold their own in a discussion, but only to a certain extent. Like, they have to be able to coherently express their own thoughts but I don't think he wants to deal with someone so stubborn that they constantly put up a fight with him if they happen to disagree. Leona has demonstrated multiple times that he finds it a hassle when people don't listen to him, so he tries to put himself in situations where he doesn't have to face that in the first place. For example, Leona states that he dislikes Silver and Rook, as they constantly act on their own and seem to disregard anything that others around them say. Additionally, he lacks a vice dorm leader because he made the conscious decision to not pick one, as he doesn't want someone challenging his decisions. Leona also strategically caves to his sister-in-law's demands to avoid wasting time and energy in an argument, since he knows that beastwomen tend to be strong-willed. His partner would have to know when to step back and give him space or when is not a good time to keep pressing a point. That means there'd be a certain element of emotional intelligence involved too, not just general wisdom or knowledge.

In these circumstances, I don't think there would be as much of an importance placed on the social status of Leona's spouse since he's like... what? Fourth in line to rule? His father is still alive, Falena/Farena is still fine, and Cheka's there too. The chances of Leona actually having to step up to that plate are low. There's no pressing need for Leona to find a partner or to produce an heir of his own. I don't recall there being lore about his older brother and sister-in-law having an arranged marriage or what social class his sister-in-law is from, so... there's not a lot to go off of there. I think, at the very least, we can assume there's not as much pressure for Leona to be in an arranged marriage since he isn't the crown prince. I don't get the sense that Sunset Savanna is as conservative with its social expectations as Briar Valley is, so it's doubtful whether or not the public would care about a royal marrying a commoner or a beastman marrying a non-beastman. To my latter point, there doesn't seem to be as strong of a racial divide between beastmen and humans (unlike fae and humans), so I don't think this would pose a major concern. But hey, maybe they do care a lot about status since Leona's flashback keeps harping on the importance of birth order--but that ultimately has no baring on the commoner versus royal thing. Maybe this is me being too much of an idealist, but I do think it would be possible for Leona's partner to come in and prove themselves, since their reputation (unlike Leona's) isn't already marred by being second in line to the throne and having a golden child to be compared to. If anything, I feel like the people would fear for the safety of Leona's spouse rather than what their "marrying outside of the norm" means for the country. Since there's a negative public view of Leona, I feel that this would translate into worry for the spouse rather than assuming they are "just as bad" as Leona. They're an outsider with a completely separate background from Leona's, and that I doubt that most people have the magic to rival his strength. Where would their fear of the spouse be reasonably coming from? I think the more likely situation would be the public feeling sympathy for the spouse (like, what if Leona's magic harms them) and wondering what they must see in the second-born prince. There might be a lot of gossip or concerns swirling around their courtship, little judgmental whispers and passing glances that are hard to avoid, maybe some hissed warnings to be careful around Leona, etc. The spouse should be careful how they react to public opinion though, as lashing out could make them be perceived as ill-tempered and crude, a poor reflection of both their own attitude as well as confirming preconceived notions of Leona. They should be equipped to handle socially complicated situations with grace and tact. When it comes to Leona, they should also be ready to provide him with some emotional support—not as a therapist he trauma dumps to or anything like that, but as a trusted and nonjudgmental confidant.

I think the spouse would receive the harshest scrutiny should they step into a more public-facing role… like if they started to enact or push for policies that go against the country’s reverence for nature and living in harmony with it. They would most certainly get pushback for it, maybe earn ire for not being “attuned” with its people. Leona’s spouse would, at the bare minimum, be expected to represent the values of Sunset Savanna and to engage in its ceremonies and traditions. For example, Leona—the second prince—is meant to train the winners of the Bead Brawl. Whatever royal duties are set for the spouses of the royal family… well, they should be prepared to fulfill them.

On the subject of privacy and sociability, it might actually be a drawback if Leona’s spouse were private and not sociable. Not being seen or interacting in public very often means people are left to their own devices and assumptions—and if Leona is the first person they associate with his spouse, it could lead to the public forming negative thoughts. "Oh, they're withdrawn because they don't care about us. Oh, they must be moody and hard to get along with." There’s a lot of earning trust that has to be done, especially if Leona intends to enact social reform, so I think it would make for better optics if his spouse really put themselves out there and was proactive in the community. Instead of framing themselves as a shut-away or some rando that married into the royal family, they have to be willing to step outside of their comfort zone and act like a leader if push comes to shove, show how outgoing and determined they can be.

Last thought I have on this matter I guess is related to how Leona’s loved ones would react. I don’t think the named characters would care about the details all too much?? Farena appears to respect his brother and treats him warmly, even when Leona brushes him off. He’d want Leona to be happy and at his best mentally and emotionally when and if he decides to help govern the country. And Cheka, well… maybe he’s a little too young to fully understand what’s going on, but I think he’d want his uncle to be happy too. I’d say even Kifaji would be on board with it, though perhaps not as openly as Farena or Cheka. He’s a stern older man, so I can absolutely see him scolding Leona and nagging him about his choice of partner—but in the way that a concerned grandparent would, you know? Not in an outright malicious way like the Briar Valley senators might. Unlike them, Kifaji can see the good in his prince and wants the best for him, even if he comes off as too overbearing at times. Kifaji doesn't unnecessarily act vitriolic or belittling to Leona, he states truths (that Leona acts improperly at times) and earnestly expresses his wish that Leona recognizes his own potential. He'll probably pull up to interrogate the spouse (because he cares that Leona marries someone who loves and values him), but ultimately give his blessings along with a plea for them to take good care of his second prince.

[suzukiblu]

Thank-you sentences for u-h-h-g-h behind the cut; Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good! (( chrono || non-chrono ))

. . . wait, actually, is he gonna have to start reading biographies and historical stuff? He’s a dad now. The other dads are gonna expect him to know stuff about the Civil War and World War II and, like, lawnmowers and how to grill, aren’t they. His dad didn’t even grill, Mom did! Dad always got distracted by his book or something and let the hot dogs burn! 

Billy is not optimistic about his capacity to mow a lawn, though at least they’re in an apartment. Like–probably somebody handles that, right? That’s gotta be a thing, doesn’t it? 

. . . he should check with Batman about that, maybe. 

. . . . . . and also figure out what the wisdom of Solomon knows about how grilling works. 

Or, uh–work on the focus thing, maybe. Definitely the focus thing. It’s just–it all feels like so much, and Billy doesn’t wanna mess up and wreck Lynn’s whole entire life and make him miserable forever or ever make him feel like any of those foster “families” and social workers ever made him and just about all the other kids he knew in the system feel or– 

Billy wonders if he could maybe find a god to talk to about asking to borrow, like, the forethought of Apollo or the precision of Arachne or the strategy of Ariadne or something sometime (though definitely not the concentration of Atalanta, because one golden apple and he’d be right back where he started). Like if he could maybe swap it out with the stamina of Atlas or the courage of Achilles when he needs to, that’s all. Just when it’s, like, situationally useful or whatever. 

. . . he’s really not doing a good job with this focus thing at all, yeah. Which he’s pretty sure he’s thought a few times now already, too, just–

He’s just really nervous, still. He’s really glad Lynn doesn’t hate him or think he’s lame, but he could still totally do something that’d make Lynn hate him or think he’s lame and–

Focus. 

“Want me to serve?” Billy offers, pointing at the plates. “I mean I know I don’t know how much you need to eat yet, but neither do you, and I’ve seen a lot more people eat than you have, sooo . . .” 

“. . . you’ve seen Superman eat?” Lynn asks, looking–uncomfortable, briefly, and looking down at the plates in his hands. Billy’s gonna have to start finding stuff for him to look at instead of people, he’s pretty sure. Like, little puzzles Lynn can be messing around with or little crafts he can be doing or something, so people just figure that’s why he’s not making eye contact with them and not, like, him being antisocial or something. 

“Oh, yeah, tons of times,” Billy says, since that’s a valid question and all, considering actually the way big majority of the people he’s seen eat were human and Lynn is actually not, so actually that might not be helpful anyway. Superman’s diet would be way more useful to know about. But the problem there is–“But like, I don’t ever really know if he really needs to be eating or if he’s just doing it to be polite? ‘Cuz I do that sometimes, definitely. But also sometimes it’s just ‘cuz something looks good? So yeah, I dunno. I’ll have to ask him when I get a chance, maybe I can catch him after the next League meeting. Or I guess I could email him, I guess that’s a thing . . .” 

He doesn’t really use his League email or messaging accounts or anything like that, like, basically ever, but Batman did give them the phones and all, so he’s not gonna have to go to the library to do it anymore, sooooo . . . 

Lynn doesn’t say anything; just keeps his eyes down and on the plates he’s still holding. Billy tries not to frown. Lynn doesn’t talk much or make eye contact all that much, so far, so it’s not like it’s new. Just–he doesn’t know, really. He’s still got this weird feeling like something’s wrong, all of a sudden. 

[0omillo0]

KIM SEUNGMIN X FEM! READER 𐙚₊˚⊹

a/n: pure fluff <33

syn: you and seungmin have been seeing eachother for some months. you were friends, yes, but you had feelings for him. ofc he didn’t like you back, did he..?

ᡣ𐭩

You had always wondered what it would feel like to be in love with someone who didn’t love you back. The kind of ache people wrote about in songs, or spilled into poems. You never thought it would feel quite like this, though—a slow burn in your chest that grew heavier every time Seungmin crossed your mind.

And Seungmin was always on your mind.

Your crush on him had been obvious for months, and although he was sweet, charming, and funny, he never made it clear if he felt the same way. You’d catch him staring at you sometimes, but he’d always look away, expression unreadable. You tried dropping hints, but Seungmin was impossible to figure out. After a while, you convinced yourself that he just didn’t like you the way you liked him. If he did, he would’ve said something by now, right?

Which is why you were sitting in a cafe right now with Jisoo. He was nice. Easy-going, and he’d made it clear early on that he liked you. So you thought, maybe if you gave someone else a chance, you could get over Seungmin. Maybe Jisoo could be the person to help you move on.

Your phone buzzed on the table, and you glanced down, unlocking it to see the message.

Seungmin:

Where are you?

read 18:40

You bit your lip, glancing up at Jisoo, who was rambling on about his plans for the weekend. He didn’t seem to notice that you were distracted.

You:

Out with a friend. Why?

read 18:42

There was a long pause. You could see the three dots blinking at the bottom of the screen, then disappearing, and then blinking again. Finally, his reply came.

Seungmin:

Never mind.

read 18:51

You frowned at the message. What was that about? For some reason, your heart skipped a beat, but you quickly shoved your phone back into your bag, determined to focus on Jisoo. This was good. It was a step in the right direction.

But that lingering feeling in your chest didn’t go away.

The next few days were strange.

Seungmin was everywhere, as usual—at mutual gatherings, in your group chat, sending memes to everyone except you. But there was something off. He wasn’t talking to you like he normally did, barely even acknowledging your existence. Every time you entered the room, he found an excuse to leave. When you tried to talk to him, he’d give one-word answers or act like he hadn’t heard you.

It stung.

By the third day, you were sure something was seriously wrong. Seungmin never ignored you like this before. Had you done something wrong? Said something that pissed him off?

Your phone buzzed again. It was a message from Jisoo, asking you to hang out tomorrow. You sighed, scrolling through your chat history with Seungmin, hoping to find a clue as to why he was acting this way.

But there was nothing.

Frustrated, you typed out a message to him, your fingers trembling slightly.

You:

Hey. Are you mad at me or something? You’ve been ignoring me for days. Did I do something?

seen 10:37

You stared at the screen, waiting for the three dots to appear. Nothing. Seungmin had seen your message, but there was no response.

Your heart sank. You tried to convince yourself that you didn’t care, but the truth was, you did. More than you wanted to admit.

That night, it rained. Hard.

You sat in your living room, the sound of raindrops pelting against the window almost soothing. The TV was on, but you weren’t paying attention, your mind too preoccupied with thoughts of Seungmin.

Your phone vibrated on the couch beside you, and for a moment, you thought it was Jisoo. But when you glanced at the screen, your heart stopped.

Seungmin:

We need to talk. Now.

seen 21:50

You blinked at the message, not sure how to respond.

You:

Okay? About what?

seen 21:51

This time, the response was immediate.

Seungmin:

About you. And Jisoo.

seen 21:51

Your chest tightened. Why would Seungmin care about that? Did he…? No. He couldn’t possibly—

A knock at the door interrupted your thoughts. Startled, you jumped up from the couch, heart racing. You weren’t expecting anyone.

But when you opened the door, there he was—Seungmin, soaked to the bone, his hair plastered to his forehead, water dripping from the edges of his jacket.

“Seungmin?” you gasped, eyes wide. “What are you doing here? You’re soaking wet!”

He ignored your concern, stepping inside without invitation. His dark eyes bore into yours, and for the first time in days, he wasn’t avoiding you. No, he was looking right at you, as if he’d been holding something in for too long and couldn’t take it anymore.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice tight with frustration.

You blinked, confused. “Tell you what?”

“About Jisoo,” he spat out, like the name itself was poison on his tongue.

You stared at him, speechless. “What… What does Jisoo have to do with anything?”

Seungmin’s jaw clenched, and he ran a hand through his wet hair, his chest heaving. “Everything! How long have you been seeing him?”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. He knew? How did he even—?

“That’s none of your business, Seungmin!” you shot back, feeling a surge of anger. “Why do you care?”

“Why do I care?” Seungmin laughed, but there was no humor in it. Just bitterness. “Because you’re seeing someone else. Because I thought you were—fuck, I don’t even know what I thought. But I didn’t think you’d just go off and start dating someone else.”

“You never said anything!” you shouted, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “You never showed any sign that you liked me, Seungmin. I’ve been waiting for months, hoping you’d do something, but you didn’t! So I moved on.”

Seungmin stared at you, his chest rising and falling rapidly. The rain was still pouring outside, thunder rumbling in the distance, but the storm inside your apartment was far worse.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Seungmin whispered, taking a step closer to you. “I liked you, Y/N. I liked you so much that it scared the shit out of me. But I didn’t want to ruin anything between us, so I held back.”

Your breath caught in your throat. He… liked you? This whole time?

“I thought you didn’t like me,” you said, your voice breaking. “You never showed it.”

“I thought I had time,” Seungmin admitted, his voice low. “I thought if I waited long enough, I’d figure out how to tell you. But when I found out about Jisoo… I realized I didn’t have time. You’re slipping away from me.”

You stood frozen, your heart racing as the weight of his words settled in. You weren’t sure how to process any of this.

“I was trying to get over you,” you whispered, not trusting your voice to be any louder.

Seungmin took another step forward, so close now that you could see the raindrops clinging to his lashes. “And now?”

You swallowed hard, your gaze flickering down to his lips before meeting his eyes again. “Now… I don’t know.”

Seungmin’s expression softened, and his hand reached out, gently cupping your cheek. The warmth of his palm against your skin sent a shiver down your spine, and your heart pounded so loudly in your chest you were sure he could hear it.

“Tell me to leave, and I will,” Seungmin murmured, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone. “Tell me to walk away, and I won’t bother you again.”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out. Instead, you found yourself leaning into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut for just a moment.

That was all Seungmin needed.

He closed the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours with an urgency that took your breath away. His hands were in your hair, pulling you closer, and you melted into him, your fingers clutching the fabric of his wet jacket.

The kiss was desperate, like he was making up for all the time he’d lost. And in that moment, everything else faded away—the rain, Jisoo, the doubts that had plagued you for so long. It was just you and Seungmin, tangled up in each other, finally giving in to what had been building between you for months.

When you finally broke apart, gasping for air, Seungmin rested his forehead against yours, his breath ragged.

“Fuck, I missed you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve been an idiot, haven’t I?”

You let out a shaky laugh, still catching your breath. “Yeah. You have.”

Seungmin pulled back slightly, his gaze searching yours. “So… where do we go from here?”

You hesitated for a moment, then smiled, your heart swelling with a warmth you hadn’t felt in a long time. “We figure it out. Together.”

Seungmin grinned, his dimples making your heart do a somersault. “Together, huh?”

You nodded, biting your lip.

[kikyoupdates]

Bloodthirst ⭑˚💋⭑ 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑢𝑒: 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑖𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡

bnha x vampire!reader

reverse harem, my hero academia x fem!reader, my vampire!reader, slowburn

As punishment for your sins, you, a young vampire, are banished — not just from your home, but to a different world entirely. Now, you find yourself in a foreign place where Quirks and heroes are the norm. In addition to coming to terms with your new life, you must also face your greatest challenge: controlling your massive thirst for blood.

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The intoxicating scent of blood. The feel of it being smeared across your cheeks, some of it even dripping down your chin. And best of all... the taste. On the night you nearly killed someone, that was all you could focus on.

“...[Name], please...”

In the darkness, a voice quietly choked out those words. It was a desperate cry, weak and hoarse. They’d been calling out to you like this for several minutes on end, but you were too entranced to take note of it. You just kept on drinking from their neck, relishing in the sweet flavor that enveloped your throat and tongue.

If your parents hadn’t intervened when they had, you would have become a murderer.

“What in the world are you doing?! Stop it right now!”

Before you could make sense of what was happening, you were being pulled away from your prey. All you could do was thrash about furiously. In your present state, you were no better than a feral animal. All logic and reason had left your mind a long time ago. What remained was nothing but hunger and selfish desire.

It wasn’t until someone slapped you across the face, hard, that you finally came back to your senses. At first, everything was fuzzy, but eventually, the images stopped dancing in front of your eyes, and you were able to take in the scene.

A friend of yours, a rather close friend, as a matter of fact, was laying helplessly on the ground, blood staining the length of their neck. A good deal of it had even soaked into the front of their shirt. They weren’t moving either. You could barely even tell that they were breathing, what with how subtly their chest was moving up and down.

Eyes wide, you slowly patted the sides of your face, fingers coming back coated in crimson. Their blood, and it was all over you. So much blood... it was too much. You did this? You took this much blood from them?

“Wait,” you started, but it was too late to bother making excuses for what you’d done. Your friend was lifted up by someone and taken out of the room in a hurry, no doubt to receive immediate treatment. Their body looked limp in the arms of the person carrying them. If you hadn’t known better, you might’ve thought they were already a corpse.

And you had no one but yourself to blame for it.

“You foolish girl!” It was your mother, the same person who’d slapped you in order to bring you back to reality. She grabbed hold of your shoulders, teeth viciously grit from anger. “Do you have any idea what you've done? How could you possibly lose control and do that to your own friend? You nearly killed them! They might die because of you!”

You blinked, tears slowly slipping down your cheeks. “I... I didn’t mean to—”

“No! There’s no excuse! I’ve told you time and time again not to get carried away. Not to let your thirst for blood cloud your reason. What am I meant to say to that child’s family? They’ve been devoted retainers of ours for countless generations. You’ve single-handedly destroyed the trust we worked so hard to build up!”

She clenched her fist, looking as though she wanted to hit you again, but unlike you, she was able to control herself. Then, she stood up, expression devoid of any emotion.

“This was the last straw,” she said coldly. “You never learn, [Name]. Us vampires are more powerful than we even realize. You cannot simply take what you want, whenever you want it. There are limits to your greed and gluttony. As your mother, I cannot continue to excuse such irresponsible behavior.”

“So... what are you trying to say?” you gaped. It was all too much to process at once. It hadn’t even really sunk in that you’d nearly killed your friend. You still couldn’t believe that you were capable of such a thing.

Your mother turned away from you. “Enough is enough. You haven’t corrected your mistakes after all this time. I’ve given up on trying to get through to you. As for the severity of your crimes... you will be punished accordingly.”

She left without explaining any further. Still shocked beyond belief, your entire body sagged. Once again, you touched the sides of your face, marveling at how much blood was staining your skin. It wasn’t normal for a human to lose this much blood. It wasn’t normal for anyone to lose this much blood.

Your mother was right. What you’d done was disgusting and inexcusable. Whatever the punishment was, you wholly deserved it, and you would accept it without protest.

At least, that was what you’d thought.

“Banishment?!” you cried out, panicked. “I understand I committed a grave mistake, but surely that’s taking it too far!”

You stood in front of your entire family. The king and queen, your mother and father, were seated at the forefront, staring down at you with remorseless eyes. Everyone else had gathered too—your many siblings, your uncles and aunts, your cousins. Even your grandparents, who were normally nowhere to be found, had made an appearance for your judgment day.

“It has already been decided,” you father glowered. “No one else in this family loses control of themselves the way you do. Time and time again, you allow your craving for blood to render you blind to the suffering of others. As the rulers of this kingdom, we cannot allow such conduct to go unchecked, even if you are our own kin.”

You could feel your entire body shaking. “But banishment... just what am I supposed to do? Where am I supposed to even go? I’ll take any other punishment! Just not this! I’m afraid. Please... mother, father, everyone... don’t get rid of me. Don’t make me be on my own.”

“It isn’t a permanent solution,” your mother sighed. “But for a while, this much is necessary. We cannot continue to be soft with you. You’ll learn the consequences for your actions the hard way. Once you’ve matured and learned to act in a manner befitting your position, you may return.”

“But I—”

“There is no room for arguing. We’ve already made up our minds.”

Tears continued to well up in your eyes. Of course. You understood the weight of a life, and how close you’d come to nearly extinguishing it. But you still couldn’t help but be afraid. You were only fourteen years old. To be cast away like this, left to fend all for yourself... it wasn’t such an easy thing to stomach.

So, this was it, then. This was the last time you’d see your family, for god-knows how long. Until they somehow decided you were worthy of returning home.

While you wiped at your eyes and kept from sobbing outright, a few cloaked figures stepped forward. You didn’t recognize any of them. These people weren’t from your family. In that case... who were they?

“Mages,” your mother answered calmly, having all but read your mind. “We brought them here in order to carry out your banishment.”

“Why would you need mages to do something like that?”

No sooner had you asked the question, you felt a horrible sense of dread, even worse than what you’d experienced thus far. The mages made a circle around you and ignored your pleading expression, opting instead to pull out some crystals from their cloaks and extend them towards you.

“Mother, father,” you trembled. “What... what’s happening?”

Not just your parents, but all of your family members looked solemn. They clearly knew what was about to come next.

“It is a fairly complicated spell,” your mother eventually said. “A large amount of magic is needed to transport someone to a different world.”

Wait, what? A different world?

You understood now what that horrible sense of dread was. You weren’t just being banished from your home. You were being banished from the only world you’d ever known.

“Please!” you cried out, trying to rush forward as a last-ditch effort. It didn’t work, though. The magic tethered you in place, making your entire body feel as though it had turned to lead. You couldn’t move. You could only squeeze your head as the gravity above you more than doubled, forcing you flat to the ground.

The last thing you saw was the grave look your parents gave you.

“Remember, [Name]. Remember this feeling, and never take a life for granted ever again.”

Light surged before your eyes. It was a foreign, disorienting feeling, and the scream you let out died in the back of your throat. It felt like everything was happening in the span of an inhale, but somehow painfully slowly as well. Whatever the case, you were helpless to do a damn thing about it.

After what was either a second or a whole eternity, you finally came to.

“Miss! Hey, miss! What’s the matter with you?!”

You peeled your eyes open, letting out a soft groan. Some middle-aged man was hovering over your fallen frame, lightly poking you on the shoulder every few seconds. Based on his expression, he was concerned, bewildered, or some combination of the two.

And he wasn’t the only one.

You quickly realized you were surrounded by a group of people, all of whom were staring down at you in visible confusion. Apparently, you were still lying flat on the ground, but in the middle of what looked to be some sort of road. Not only that, but there were strange contraptions all around you. Machines with four wheels that were travelling along the road, although most of them had stopped because you were dead in the middle of it.

Wearily, you pulled yourself to your feet. The group of people kept on pestering you and asking if you were alright, but you ignored them and breezed past. You needed to get your head on straight, but a quick look at your surroundings was really all you needed to confirm your worst fears.

This definitely wasn’t the world you were used to. Your own family had just kicked you out with no regard for your wellbeing, although you supposed that was the price to pay for the sins you’d committed. Crying about it more wouldn’t accomplish anything. You had no time to wallow in self-pity either.

Now, then. What the fuck were you supposed to do next?

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