#like i got most of the way through the other thing i should have been working on instead of this. cough cough

[yey56]

HARLEY SAWYER X PSYCHOLOGIST READER (morally grey)

You have been working at Playtime CO for some years now, you worked as the head department of psychology but most of your work consisted on providing profiles of the children in the lower levels or as your coworker called them, experiments.

Over the years of working with them and knowing what they are being turned into, you've learned to work with them pre and post experimentation. Another thing you've learned through time was to deal with the partner you were assigned for the project. Harley sawyer.

What is there to say about that man. He is the head scientist in the project but he is absolutely horrible at dealing with them, or with anyone. That's how you were assigned to work along side him . He made the experiments and you maintained them under control.

Initially the ones who needed to be under control where you two because of your crashing personalities. While he was a serious control freak and borderline antisocial you one the contrary seemed to not take things seriously, constantly taunting him and the other stuff and with a permanent sarcastic tone in your voice voice.

Of course at first he didn't like you much, and to be fair you didn't make it easy. Everything he said refering to the experiments was refuted by your obsession to keep a mildly stable mental health in the subject.

Dr Harley sighed heavily looking your way with an annoyed look- What now?- he asked

If you keep treating the subjects like that your are going to break them.-you said in the observation room with him while you were both supervising experiment 1355, a young girl turned into a smiley unicorn.

They're toys, they can be fixed easily- he responded as if he had repeated you that phrase for the 11th time (he did)

You know what I mean Sawyer, they are of no use if their minds break-you explained with a calm smile- or have you forgotten what kind of problems an unstable subject could bring?- your asked him, your question mocking him.

It turned out well with Yarnaby or have you forgotten Dr/Dra (Y/L/N)?- he said imitating your question

You laughed slowly- ah yes the kid you isolated as your pet, great example Dr-

Harley Sawyer was well know for working alone, he didn't like others company and whenever he got an assistant or a guard, he scared them off by being authoritarian or exposing them to dangerous situation. You were the only one at the company who actually could keep up with him.

In the interviews with the children you would lead the conversation while Harley observed and took notes. In the laboratory you were more of an assistant, helping the Dr with whatever tool he needed or just preparing the chemicals.

Even though he hated to admit it, his experiments have been more controlable and causing less troubles since you started working together.

You would be unbothered by the kids, showing enough compassion for them to not recognise you as a threat, but showing not an ounce of regret in your eyes while seeing how Harley turned them into toys.

Do I have to remind you that compassion is useless in this job?- Sawyer said while closing a wound he had made on the experiment while operating

You haven't realised how much time have passed since your prior conversation have ended. It was strange for the doctor to initiate them, usually preferring silence but you weren't complaining.

Compassion can make a person go through great lengths- you said- But I understand that in this line of work it's nothing but a limit, a wall that needs to be broken in order to obtain results.-

For once in a long time both you and Harley agreed on something.

He finally stopped sewing the toys fresh wound and started reading the inform you had redacted about the psychological profile of the child before the operation- you should do another one once she wakes up (Y/L/N)- he reminded you while reading the little notes and highlights you left about her.

You always reserved a space the paper work to express your personal opinions on the experiment and Harley always read them. It's another thing he started doing, considering your opinions and advice as something worth of noticing.

-Doc...-

-Sawyer...-

-Sawyer??...-

-HARLEY!!-

He looked at you not noticing how he had spaced out of his mind for a moment while reading your report.

What is it?- he asked actually surprised that he was actually distracted enough to not hear you.

I was asking you about the experiment 1322, Doey. How are the three conscience developing? are they getting used to they're new body?-you asked. Doey was your favourite experiment so far, it was the one you have showed more interest in and your involvement with him was way bigger than with others. Sawyer didn't understood your fascination with Doey.

Since you both started developing the project, you had shown special interest in the idea of three people combined in a toy. In fact, the reason you had starting working more time with the doctor was because of your eagerness to see how the experiment would turn out.

You have become much more comfortable with one another, even after years of coexisting with each other in the lower levels of Playtime.

Sometimes he would catch himself looking at you while you were with the kids in the interviews. He observed your calm demeanor through the crystal of the observation room. He could see how the children grew more confortable with you while you were joking.

The cognitive abilities of the toys were improving each day thanks to your work so of course the bosses permitted you both to perform as many experiments as needed.

Another thing Harley noticed about the last week's was how you would spend most of your time testing and conversing with 1322. He had grown so used to your presence that it was getting harder to work without you present.

He would never admit that he missed your sarcastic comments about the designs of the toys or how he missed to call you a germ, his germ, whenever you were getting to annoying.

Sometimes when you went to the cafeteria upstairs to get some coffee or a sandwich to eat, you would get him something too.

You haven't brought anything recently and that was because of your new obsession.

He finally finished the last transformation successfully, now the only thing left was for the experiment to wake up and for you to examine them.

Harley wandered through the corridors searching for the one room he knew you would be in, this time, he was the one bringing you a coffee.

He watched you through the crystal of the observation room. You always insisted on talking face to face with Doey. The mass of doe seemed calmer with you around. The two more peaceful personalities of Doey talked to you, voicing their regrets and fears. Though the violent part of the creature always seemed reluctant to talk to you. Not responding what was asked of him or simply not responding at all.

Dra/Dr ( Y/L/N), your presence is required in the observation room number 29- Sawyer interrupted your conversation. Doey seemed afraid for a moment only to turn his expression into an angry one. With a gesture of your hand you calmed him down and signaled silently for Harley to turn on the ice so the doe wouldn't scape.

You exited the room to find your coworker handing you a cup of coffee. You looked at him with a raised brow but accepted it either way.

Well, look who it is.-you said with satisfied grin- I thought you were supervising Yarnaby?- you commented

Yes I was, are you aware of how much time you spend with that... Mass?- he said with contempt- what's so fascinating about him anyways? He's only been trouble.

You're only trouble as far as I'm aware- he rolled his eyes you sipped again- he's a time bomb and I want to be there to see it explode- you finally responded- I want to be the germ that makes him mutate.

Germ... It's a fitting name for you- he laughed with a smooth voice.-

You both stayed silent in the middle of the room, he looked at you calmly while you ended your coffee. He was looking at you trough his glasses without blinking, with his tired eyes.

You looked back at him and when you realised he had his fist raised at you, brushing with his tumb the remaining coffee right next to your upper lip.

Neither of you realised how close you where, the dim light of the room illuminated both of your bodies. Yours against the door and his right in front of you, your external layers of clothing touching lightly.

He got even closer, feeling his breath against your own. His thumb caressing your cheek

He thought about everything that had happened recently. How Pierre and the ones closer to him had started to go against you both in the semanal meeting with the executives regarding the experiments. Pierre's demands being met by your indifference, claiming that you will keep securing the experiments as much as possible.

The doctor remembered how you, just as him, were completely devoted to the project. He had became paranoic for the past months. More irritable, unwilling to socialise with someone who wasn't you or the toys

He got even closer to you, he though he heard you whisper his name. You closed the gap between the both of you. Hands on his shoulders

Lip against lip, his hand still in your face. You felt that Harley was the only human you could trust down here. No one understood you like he did. Your desperation to contribute to humanity, your desire of achieving a more lasting body. One that could endure more.

If you ever shared this with anyone else, you'll probably be in trouble.

Your closeness with Harley and his with you was out of understanding, a feeling of trust and comfortability that had just materialised thought he kiss you were sharing with each other.

He slowly pulled apart, his breathing uneven and one of his locks of hair misplaced a slight smile on his face. His forehead touched yours and he whispered just above your lips- My germ~

Only if you knew... That exact same day Harley Sawyer would be reduce no nothing more than a system, a screen, a conscience.

At the mercy of playtimes desires while you... Well ... Your whereabouts were unknown, even though they knew you didn't get out of the building.

Somewhere... hiding between wires and toy corpses...

I'm in love with the voice of the doctor AKA Harley Sawyer.

My drawing of Harley Sawyer:

[svt-rosalie]

. . . ♡ PREGNANCY ! ? 🪷 AU ★ ﾟ๑

ׁ ׅ ୨ ❪ what could of been! ❫ ୧ ⊹ ࣪

© 2024 , svt-rosalie rosalie masterlist!

content warning / incorrect info on pregnancy and birth, rosie is emotionally, descriptions of birth, rosalie has an at home birth, not spelling checked, brief mention of sex (only brought up once), jihoon is the man we all need in our life

author note / i’m so proud of this! i got the sudden urge to write a pregnancy au for rosie and couldn’t stop writing so here you go! im gonna do some other parts to this au like rosie and her baby in going seventeen episodes, insta post, ect! i hope you enjoy, let me know if you want more AU’s like this :)

one of me is cute, but two, though?

give it to me, baby

juno, sabrina carpenter

THE BEGINNING

✿. rosalie finds out she’s pregnant!

A gasp left Rosalie’s mouth as she sat on her couch, a wave of nausea hitting her faster then she’s ever felt causing her to quickly leap from her spot and rush towards her shared bathroom with her boyfriend Woozi. Her stomach did not hold back as it brought everything back up that she had eaten for breakfast just a mere 4 hours ago.

“Are you okay Rose?” Woozi questioned, you could hear the concern in his voice.

Rosie simply sat there after throwing up and flushing the toilet. Her throat was scratchy and her body fatigued but she nodded her head the best she could.

Woozi rubbed her back with one hand and grabbed some toilet paper to wipe her face with the other. “Is everything okay? You’ve been throwing up a lot more recently from what I noticed.” He questioned.

The girl shrugged her shoulders leaning closer into her significant other, craving comfort. She had been so tired recently — her body felt like it had been rung through a ringer over and over. It didn’t help that she seemed to have caught a bug that made her throw up at randoms times.

Woozi started to chuckle making Rosie look up from her position of resting her head on his shoulder to look at him skeptically.

“What’s so funny?” She asked.

Woozi’s laughter softened but didn’t end as he spoke, “Maybe you’re pregnant!” There was a tone of humor in his voice.

Though as Rosie’s eyes widened and her body became stiff — Jihoon’s laughter died down, “You’re pregnant. . . ?” The statement came out more as a question than anything else.

“We should make a doctor’s appointment.” They both agreed, not realizing it would be the beginning of the rest of their lives.

WE’RE PREGNANT

✿. telling everyone their pregnant

It’s been a couple of months since the couple found out they would be having a child. They were young and in love, though they weren’t married they felt ready for this life. Others had different opinions and concerns especially since they just started their relationship but those words were fed in one ear and out the other.

Telling the company was one thing and the members they were expecting a child was one thing, it was honestly the easiest part they would deal with in the beginning. Telling their parents was another.

Rosalie’s parents are extremely protective of her, not in the sense of “you can’t do anything blah blah you live by my rules till the day you die” but just protective of the fact that she is their baby, their first born and they just want to best for her.

They had already told Jihoon’s family a week before when the couple went to visit the family for the weekend. Reactions of surprise and happiness was overwhelming and the nerves melted away from the two.

“We will be there to help you two no matter the time of day, just give us a call.” Jihoon’s mom had said to Rosalie when she made her way around to hug her.

Now it was time. The couple was sat in the Dumont’s kitchen room gathered around the table, dishes were filled with food as an everyone ate their filling. It was silent for the most part, the only thing heard was the smacking of Rosalie’s little sister Valentine’s mouth eating food and the clanging of metal chopsticks hitting the sides of dishes.

“Okay out with it, what’s going on? You two never act like this during dinner.” Rosalie’s father, Hyeonju asked after swallowing his mouth full of rice.

At those words Rosalie’s palms got sweaty. The speech she had practiced so thoughtfully on to break the news to her parents hasd flown out the window and straight into the pond beside their house.

Hyeonju crossed his arms, “Well—” “We’re pregnant!” Rosalie blurted out. There was no sugar coating it, no ‘Appa, I know I’m young’ speech, just straight for the jugular.

Reactions were mixed between her family, Valentine was confused, her mother had a smile on her face, and her dad; well you couldn’t tell the reaction on his face.

The deafening silence was broken by a chair scraping across the floor as Rosie’s mother got up to her hug her eldest daughter.

“Oh my gorgeous girl, I’m so happy for you.” She said cupping her daughter’s face with tears in her eyes. Her mother went into a tangent asking as many questions about the couple’s pregnancy as possible before she was cut off by her husband.

“Lee Jihoon?” Hyeonju asked. He stood up promoting the boy to stand as well and leave his position of watching his girlfriend and her mom alone. “Yes?” Jihoon answered.

Hyeonju sighed, “You better take care of my daughter and future grandchild, anything and I mean anything gets back to me that is even remotely upsetting — you and I will have words.” said boy nodded and expressed his love for the man’s daughter and their future child. “You have my word, I will be the man your daughter asked for and the best father our child could have.”

Hyeonju nodded and smiled broke out on his face “Come here!” he said, laughing and pulling the boy and his youngest daughter into a hug with his eldest and wife.

The tension in the room disappeared as they all hugged and laughed.

“Wait . . . does that mean Unnie had sex?” Valentine questioned innocently.

Rosalie’s face went red as the group laughed at the younger girls question seemingly meaning no harm by what she said.

It was a good family dinner, and soon instead of just 5 — there would be six!

SHE’S HERE!

✿. rosie finally gives birth

The room was bustling with noise and people. It was finally time for the couples little girl to come introduce herself to her family.

It had been a stressful morning with her water breaking and then immediately her contractions were causing her more pain than she ever expected.

At moment she was sat in her pool of luke warm water. Her desire to have a home birth just like her mother did with herself and her little sister overshadowed any other ideas, only wanting to go to the hospital if deemed necessary. Her mid-wife was instructing Rosie that she was at 9 centimeters dilated and soon enough she would be having to start pushing soon.

The girl nodded and continued to breathe in through her nose and out through her mouth as her boyfriend, Jihoon held her hand close to his chest whilst rubbing her tense shoulder.

“You’re doing amazing Rosie.” Jihoon stated softly, he brought up the hand he was holding to give a delicate kiss. Rosie looked up at him as he was kneeled beside her with tears in her eyes. “Really?” She asked, “Because I’m absolutely terrified.” Rosie groaned out as another contraction hit.

The boy nodded as she squeezed his hand as the pain passed through her. If all she needed from him was to hold her hand through this pain then that’s what Jihoon will do, she carried their child for 9 months and was about to birth her, it’s the least he could offer at the moment.

The couple sat in silence as the midwife came over the check the files dilation once more before confirming she was at ten centimeters and was ready to push.

Rosalie’s mother who was their to assist in any way possible kneeled on her daughters other side offering a hand of support.

“Okay Jihye, on your next contraction. Push!” The midwife stated loudly.

And that’s what Rosalie did. It took the girl only 15 minutes to push her child out into the world which caused the medical staff and mid-wife to laugh out stating “We’ve got an eager little girl ready to meet her Omma and Appa.”

Despite being exhausted and out of breath, Rosalie took her baby girl in her arms after she was cleaned off and checked for any signs of health issues. A wave of relief came over the young girl and her partner as they watched their little Young-mi take a breath in and a breath out.

They were alone together for the first time in hours, the medical staff and her mother took their leave after cleaning up the girl, checking for any signs of tearing (thank god there was only a tiny one, she got stitched up in minutes) and getting her dressed and on a bed to be as comfortable as possible.

“We did this.” Rosie stated blissfully. Her voice cracked due to the strain of her yelling out as she pushed a couple of minutes ago.

Jihoon shook his head at her words.

“You did this. You kept her fed and healthy, you made sure she had a safe place for nine months, you brought her into this world. I wouldn’t have her without you, so thank you. Thank you so much.” His words didn’t go unspoken without tears shedding from both parties eyes. Rosie titled her head up to reach the boy sitting next to her and placed a sweet kiss on her lovers lips, cherishing this moment for as long as she could.

“Welcome to the world Lee Young Mi, you’re gonna be so loved.”

T͟I͟M͟ELINE.✶ 🧸

july 2020, baby is conceived august 2020, rosalie and jihoon find out they are pregnant september 2020, company is told about pregnancy november 2020, gender of the baby is confirmed december 2020, fans receive the news of rosie’s pregnancy december 2020, rosalie and jihoon go on pregnancy leave march 2021, baby yvonne dumont/lee young-mi is born

♡: ANNOUNCEMENT POST!

Liked by saythename_17, everyone_woo, and 4,678,092 others

parkjihye ♡

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rosalienews there is no way…….

tigerose I KNOW THEY ARE LYING WTFFFFFF

rosiecheeks woozi works quick don’t he

saythename_17 열일곱 번째 멤버를 맞이하는 것이 기다려집니다

translation, cant wait to welcome the 15th member of seventeen

roseswrld HOLY FUCK HOLY FUCK HOLY FUCK

rosepetals y’all i have nobody i can share this news with, what am i supposed to do

smelltheroses i died, came back to make sure it wasn’t a joke, died again

woozi_universefactory ♡

click here to join rosie’s taglist!

taglist — @angie-x3 @alixnsuperstxr @allthings-fandoms @peachyaeger @sakufilms @aysxldea @swagcandyfun @wonwooz1 @s4nsmoon @seolarzone @miyx-amour @novwonia @marissa-11 @magicsoyeon @skzfairies @btskzfav @vhsdolly @iamawkwardandshy @yaebbinnie @conniesbbymama @jihoonsbbygirl @kaitieskidmore97 @cheolsboo @mars11rules67 @svt-manon @g4ns3y

[thatoneautisticshark]

Just a cute little thingy. Also please please send asks. I have literally no ideas :[

Gaz sighed, flopping on the shitty safe house bed. His damp hair making him shiver. The days had been scorching but somehow the night was still cold. Didn't help the power was out, and his shower to get the layers of caked mud and sweat off was freezing.

He groaned, too worked up to sleep. The mission had stretched much longer than it was meant to. Should have been an easy in and out, week long at best. They were one week three, and it was the first time since the start of the mission that they were not sleeping in the mud.

So he couldn't complain too much about the safe house, because at least it was a shelter, and they were getting flown back to base tomorrow.

Ghost was in the other room, probably fast asleep. He had been acting off the last few days. Quieter, more on edge and snappier. A simple joke that he would usually have returned, got him told to ‘Shut his bloody trap for once in his life, or he'd be on latrine duty for three months’.

Needless to say there was a bit of tension between them at the moment. Gaz couldn't really blame Ghost. After all, a mission tripling in length and being stuck in the hot humid climate sucked. But Ghost was known for being resilient, and unshakeable.

Gaz had personally seen the man with three bullet wounds still crack shitty jokes. But yet, something on this had really thrown Ghost off.

He didn't seem to be injured, wasn't holding himself weird, so at least that was something.

Gaz'd mentioned it to Price over radio, who had given a knowing hum and just told Gaz to leave it for now. That Ghost would go back to normal once they left.

Gaz knew not to push it. His lieutenant was a complicated guy, and although he didn't know all his past, he certainly knew he had been through a real shit storm. He knew it wasn't gonna happen, but he wished Ghost would just talk to him.

They were friends and he was worried. But not like he could force anything.To say he wasn't looking forward to Ghost hopefully getting back to normal was an understatement however.

Gaz rolled onto his back, fiddling idly with the cord for the lamp as he thought. He glanced up as he heard movement through the open door into where Ghost was staying.

He glanced up, looking at the hulking figure. “Lieutenant. What do you need?” Ghost didn't answer, walking closer. Gaz just blinked at him.

Maybe a 6’4 man who was built like a brick wall walking towards you at night should be intimidating, but it wasn't. It was Ghost afterall, no way in hell he would hurt his team. Gaz knew that much.

What he didn't expect Ghost to do was just… flop on him? He was evidently careful not to land with all his weight, but he just flopped on-top of Gaz.

Settling against his chest as if it was the most normal thing ever, head tucking beside Gaz’s neck.

It was only when Gaz felt the slight tickle of hair, and the warmth of skin he realised. Ghost wasn't wearing his mask. Or a balaclava or anything.

He was bare faced.

Cuddling Gaz.

Gaz blinked, trying to get his bearings. “I-wha?... Lieutenant?”

The breath tickled his neck as Ghost just murmured “Shut it, Garrick”. It was a sign of how much he wasn't himself, with the fact it wasn't so much an order, and felt more like a plea.

Gaz conceded easily “Okay, okay, shutting up.” He whispered tracing a hand absently along his superiors back. When

Ghost sat up ever so slightly, Gaz found himself surprisingly disappointed that Ghost was moving…

Until Ghost simply moved his head, tucking it under the sergeant's chin, resting on his chest and settling back down with a soft hum.

Within minutes he was softly snoring, and his grip was looser.

And Gaz was very confused.

And very stuck.

But he couldn't bring himself to be annoyed.

[genderqueerdykes]

A bunch of intersex people on here got pissed and blocked me because I said that PCOS is a serious condition that requires medical treatment a lot of the time. They were arguing saying "People just don't like how it makes you look, they hate that we don't look cis! It doesn't need medical treatment at all!"

Except it does. PCOS raises your risk for cancer, it causes pre-diabetes, it makes your hormone levels all fucky, not to mention the acne! The list goes on and on. But apparently I am intersexist for pointing those things out. Literally every other person I know with PCOS has been blown off by doctors and left to suffer, like they will have incredibly painful cysts and insulin resistance and doctors will drag their feet and make excuses not to help? "Just lose weight." "Pain is normal it's probably cramps"

I had to fight so hard to get them to realize I had an actual cyst and that was why I was in so much pain! The treatment is for your health, like laser hair removal is aesthetic but the actual medical treatment is IMPORTANT. I fucking hate that people are saying you should forgo it entirely. They are spreading medical misinformation.

But apparently I'm intersexist. It pisses me off. I'm not the only one either I've seen them dog piling others who point this out. Can you say something on this? People are going to put themselves needlessly at risk just to prove that they're intersex enough, "you're only gaslighted by doctors into thinking you need medical treatment". It's so fucking stupid. It's not the same as genital mutilation or surgeries on intersex babies. It's for your fucking health...

god i just let out the longest, most existentially exhausted sigh. i am so sorry you had to go through this. this is 100% those people assuming the absolute worst and jumping on you for it. i actually have a lot to say about this as well, so thank you for taking the time to send this ask.

this is reactionary behavior. there is no rationale, only emotion. i think they are misinterpreting you on purpose in order to be able to go off on you. i think that's all there is to it. like they're reading what you're saying and going "oh so you think all intersex people should try to have their conditions 'CORRECTED'???" and crying intersexism, failing to realize that a lot of intersex variations are literal health conditions that can and do make a person sick. these are fucking MEDICAL CONDITIONS, y'all! it's not JUST about your genitals & hormones! it's not JUST your secondary sex characteristics! hormones affect so much more than just your primary and secondary sex characteristics, they actually affect way more of the body than most people realize!

i'm not afraid to say it anymore, but a lot of intersex people on here are just straight up fucking bullies. i actually do not interact with too many other intersex bloggers on here because i do not like the amount of hostility & outright transphobia. so many intersex bloggers on here are proud to be transphobic as fuck. like it just absolutely fucking disgusts me that so many intersex people on here are taking the route of rude disenfranchised asshole who thinks it's okay to be mean as fuck to other queer people because we don't have a lot of visibility. that's not other queer people's faults. stop assuming every other queer you meet is going to be intersexist. stop pouncing on people who aren't hurting you.

They were arguing saying "People just don't like how it makes you look, they hate that we don't look cis! It doesn't need medical treatment at all!"

THIS is what's intersexist as hell because a lot of people with PCOS do not have an outward appearance that would indicate that they have an intersex variation. a lot what goes on with PCOS happens inside your body. how the hell are you supposed to be able to see someone's cysts just by looking at them? you have no idea if that "perisex cis woman" standing next to you at the grocery store is actually perisex, or if they shave their facial hair and make sure they don't look like they have a five o' clock shadow because they don't want facial hair. some intersex people DON'T like "looking intersex". some people get body dysphoria from their hormonal imbalances. not every intersex person "LOOKS" intersex.

Literally every other person I know with PCOS has been blown off by doctors and left to suffer, like they will have incredibly painful cysts and insulin resistance and doctors will drag their feet and make excuses not to help? "Just lose weight." "Pain is normal it's probably cramps" I had to fight so hard to get them to realize I had an actual cyst and that was why I was in so much pain! The treatment is for your health, like laser hair removal is aesthetic but the actual medical treatment is IMPORTANT. I fucking hate that people are saying you should forgo it entirely. They are spreading medical misinformation.

100%. this has nothing to do with you saying that someone needs to have their intersex condition "corrected". i can't believe someone would just tell you that while you're trying to convey that you quite literally needed medical care. PCOS can be a very painful condition to live with. as a teenager, i was having such heavy periods that i was having to change pads every 45 minutes. i HAD to see a gynecologist about it. i had low iron. it was making me anemic from the amount of blood i was losing. it wasn't just a routine trip to the OBGYN, i was having a serious medical issue and i needed help for it. i wasn't trying to "CORRECT" my intersex condition, i was trying to address a symptom that was caused by my intersex condition. now THEY tried to "correct" it with estrogen, but that's not what i was trying to do. i just wanted to stop suffering.

and you're right about diabetes & insulin resistance. this is extremely common in PCOS. hormones heavily affect that part of your health. like what, are people expecting someone with PCOS who develops diabetes to not seek treatment for it because that would be them "CORRECTING" their intersex condition and being "intersexist" somehow? was me seeking help for bleeding so much i was anemic intersexist? this is ridiculous. a lot of intersex variations come with health problems. we're not saying that being INTERSEX is a health problem, but intersex variations can CAUSE health problems, and nobody should have to just deal with that because it's somehow intersexist to seek medical care.

i'm really sorry you experienced that. on god, so many of the intersex bloggers on here are just straight up bullies. i'm just saying it. it's people taking other people's lives personally and getting offended when another intersex person doesn't shut up and listen to them and agree with them blindly. i've seen way too many intersex people on here who are proud to be aggressive assholes. why are we doing this to other intersex people? we shouldn't cannibalize our own. god fucking damn. it's not community if we're tearing each other apart.

let other intersex people decide what they do and don't do with their bodies. if the way another intersex person governs their body upsets you, move the hell on. stop making it their problem.

im so sorry you had to go through this anon. you deserve to be able to talk about YOUR OWN EXPERIENCE AS AN INTERSEX PERSON. it find it absolutely disgusting that there are people on here who want to try to talk for you instead. unreal. i hope you have a great week anon, stay safe, and i hope that things are going better for you in terms of your health.

[astercontrol]

omg I have some complicated feelings about this.

so there's one comment in the notes about how "lazy" employees would refuse to send an email for customer convenience even though it would take "just 2 seconds" to send. Which... yeah, valid complaint

but it's more than just "laziness" on the part of employees (although there definitely are a lot of employees who have lost all empathy for what customers and patients are actually going through, and that's its own whole problem, and it's frustrating as hell for those employees who still do care).

It's also a systemic "laziness" on the part of corporations: a refusal to put certain things in their own employees' job descriptions and to allot enough staffing to do those things.

yes, at my pharmacy job it could take 2 seconds to send an email, IF there was an established template for emails and an easily accessible button to select, customize and send it for the patient who currently needs it. But if it isn't so seamlessly integrated into our job, it will require composing the email from scratch on our own.

Which still isn't a LOT of time and work… but, suppose it takes 1 minute. Then multiply by, say, 30 customers who need it done per day per employee (in a busy pharmacy day shift). That's 30 extra minutes of work for the employee who gets those 30 calls. Who, in many cases, is already assigned more work than physically possible to complete in a day, even skipping all breaks, and will be penalized for taking any overtime. If this extra email-sending is not explicitly a required part of the employee's job description, an already overworked employee is not likely to try and make time to do it.

Now, I'm the kind of employee who still does this sort of thing for patients who ask. And I did this even at my worst and most overworked jobs. Where it was thankless work, each individual case more likely to get me yelled at than praised by management (although, once I'd established it as an expectation customers had, I'd then also get yelled at for not doing it, by both customers and management, once the managers got the customer complaints). No-win situation for everyone.

Another source of frustration for the busier pharmacies I've worked in: The responsibility of calling for prescription transfers. Everyplace I've worked has had basically the same rule: If a patient wants to get a med transferred from one pharmacy to another, calling for it is the responsibility of the pharmacy that is to receive the prescription.

I think the reason is partly corporate self-interest ("no pharmacy takes on the extra work of making calls to give away their own customers to another pharmacy. The pharmacy getting the new business has to work for it.") But it's also probably an issue of responsibility for error-- if I call another pharmacy to transfer out a prescription because a patient told me to, I'm at fault if I've been given the wrong contact information and end up transferring it to the wrong pharmacy.

Or, if the patient hasn't even looked into whether the other pharmacy even CAN fill this prescription, they just think it'd be more convenient-- then, if I call the other pharmacy to transfer, they are likely to assume I know what I'm doing (especially if I get an entry-level, barely trained employee, as is often the case). They'll accept my word that they should be able to fill it. And then, if it ends up being something they don't sell, or an insurance they don't accept, THEN we've got the prescription stuck at a pharmacy that can't do anything with it, and it'll be another whole mess to get it back, and then it's my fault for not just leaving the work to the pharmacy that's invested in getting the new Rx.

In practice, though, the way it's done is ALSO an absolute mess.

At my busier former workplaces, it would go like this:

I pick up the phone. It's one of our current patients, calling to say they need their prescription transferred to another pharmacy. I tell them that they will have to call the other pharmacy to call us. They fight back, pointing out that this is extra work for everyone (because at that point, me calling the other pharmacy would be just one more call, whereas them calling the other pharmacy and having them call me would be two more calls.) I agree but reiterate that it's our policy. The patient hangs up. Then later-- assuming that those two calls out of my control actually went through-- our pharmacy will hear from the other one, and we'll start the transfer process.

BUT I'd better have made sure I added a clear note on the patient's profile about their earlier call, AND that my coworkers actually bother to look at the profile notes. Because, turns out that call wasn't just wasted time on the patient's part-- even though the patient may now think it was.

Because, if we don't have any record of the patient's earlier call, then whichever of my coworkers received the new call is now just getting a random out-of-nowhere call from another pharmacy asking us to give them one of our customers! And there've been issues with pharmacies that have done that without even having the patient's permission. SO we've got to call back again to confirm with the patient that they actually want this. It's the most excruciating game of phone tag and everyone involved totally hates it.

And this is before I even get into the subject of calls that involve doctors' offices or fucking insurance companies.

Which… no, I'm not going to get into that now. (crashes in exhaustion)

I think this is just a trend everywhere but I've been very frustrated this week by how much admin work is being outsourced to me as the patient/customer.

My orthodontist tells me I can make an appointment with the surgeon. I call the surgeon. They tell me I need a new referral. I call the orthodontist. They do a referral. I call the surgeon. Referral didn't come through. They tell me about their special unique system we have to use. I call the ortho again and walk them through the referral. I call the surgeon. They say the referral was missing some details so they have to do it again. I call the ortho.

The insurance company calls me about repair shops. I give them the name of the repair shop which I already gave them yesterday. They say they're not in their system but I can use them, but I have to call the repair shop to ask them to contact the insurance company. I call the repair shop and they say the insurance company is supposed to email them.

I feel like at a certain point these constant fetch quests become unreasonable?? Is it too much to expect these groups to communicate with each other instead of making me run back and forth between them???

[hy6erion]

Hii! I know I just send in an another request but this idea also popped into my mind and I feel like you could write it quite well so I didn't want to send it to someone else.

Viktor×reader, where readers way of expressing their love and care is by taking care of people and trying to help as much as possible to make life easier for everyone they care about (opening doors, making food, helping a friend study, all the small and big things). I think viktor would struggle to accept that reader cares for him and isn't just babying him. Him slowly realising that he can ask for help not only when it's absolutely necessary but also just when he wants help because it would be easier. But then also getting stuck with the feeling of the reader being so caring for everyone. Love confession or something? Idk

Sorry for sending two requests in a row, take your time please.

~🍒

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐞 - 𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

✰⍣..𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩- 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞.

⇢ 𝐧𝐨 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲/𝐧, 𝐠𝐧! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭

𝐢 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 (╥╯^╰╥)

Viktor was used to doing things alone. It wasn’t a matter of pride—at least, not entirely. It was habit. Necessity. He had learned early on that asking for help often led to disappointment, so he learned to manage on his own. He had learned to be independent, to push forward no matter the difficulty, to adjust his grip on his cane and keep moving even when his leg ached and the weight of exhaustion pressed against his skull.

That was why he struggled with you. Because you—without hesitation, without expectation—made his life easier.

It started small, things he could brush off. You holding open doors when you walked ahead of him, waiting just long enough so he wouldn’t have to catch the handle himself. You adjusting his chair in the lab before he sat down, subtle, like you hadn’t even thought about it. You bringing him tea when you got your own, setting it down beside him without a word.

But it wasn’t just him.

You did it for everyone. Helping Jayce reorganize his disaster of a desk when you noticed him getting frustrated. Bringing Claggor coffee when he was pulling an all-nighter. Tutoring some first-years when you saw them struggling with equations you could solve in seconds.

You were thoughtful in a way that seemed effortless, as if your care for others was woven into your very being.

And it unsettled him. Because the more he noticed it, the harder it became to ignore.

He had spent years learning to work through pain, through difficulty, through exhaustion. He only ever asked for help when there was no other option. And yet, with you, help was simply given—before he could even think to ask.

And worse than that, you didn’t just do it because of his leg, or because you pitied him. You did it because you cared.

That realization was the most difficult thing of all.

The lab was quiet save for the occasional scratch of pen on paper and the rhythmic tap of Viktor’s cane against the floor as he moved back and forth between his desk and the chalkboard. He was immersed in his work, half-formed calculations filling the margins of his notebook.

Until—

“Viktor.” Your voice, warm and familiar, pulled him from his thoughts. He looked up just as you placed a plate of food beside him.

He frowned. “I didn’t ask for—”

“I know.” You shrugged. “But you haven’t eaten all day, and I was making something for myself anyway. Figured you’d appreciate not starving.”

Viktor’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know,” you repeated easily. “But I wanted to.”

That should have been the end of it. You turned to leave, already heading back to your own work, but Viktor’s grip tightened around his pen.

“…You do this for everyone.”

You paused, glancing over your shoulder. “What?”

“This,” he gestured vaguely at the plate, at the general atmosphere of you. “You help everyone. You—” He exhaled sharply, frustration edging his voice. “You don’t have to keep looking after me.”

You blinked, head tilting slightly. “I don’t have to. I want to.”

Viktor shook his head. “You should not waste your time worrying about me. I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can,” you said, more firmly this time. You took a step closer, crossing your arms. “But just because you can do something alone doesn’t mean you have to.”

Viktor opened his mouth, then closed it again, unsure how to respond to that. He had spent so long believing he was only allowed help when it was absolutely necessary. When he physically could not continue without it.

But you—you were offering it simply because you cared.

And he didn’t know what to do with that.

It took time.

At first, he tried to resist. If he needed something from a high shelf, he would stretch for it. If his leg ached after hours of standing, he would grit his teeth and bear it. If his hands trembled from exhaustion, he would steady them himself.

But you were there.

Not pushing, not forcing—just there. And it became harder to ignore the fact that things were simply easier when he let you help.

The first time he asked for something—really asked, not because he had no other choice but because he wanted to—it was almost painful.

“Could you… hand me that book?”

You didn’t comment on the hesitation in his voice, didn’t make a big deal of it. You just passed him the book and went back to your work, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

And maybe, for you, it was.

So he tried.

He let you carry an extra cup of tea back to the table when he saw you holding two. He let you adjust the strap of his bag when it had slipped. He let you—just once—walk beside him at his pace without feeling the need to keep up.

And then one day, without thinking, he said, “Could you help me with this equation?”

And you did. No hesitation. No expectation. Just a simple, of course.

And he realized—he liked it.

He liked knowing that there was someone who cared enough to notice when he needed something. He liked the ease of it, the weight lifting from his shoulders.

But then— Then he caught himself watching you help others. Not just him. Everyone.

He told himself it didn’t matter. That it was simply who you were.

But the next time you reached out to help Jayce with something, something hot and tight twisted in his chest.

“Do you—” He hesitated, words feeling foreign in his mouth. “Do you care for everyone the way you care for me?”

You looked at him then, truly looked, as if you were searching for something beneath his carefully neutral expression.

“No.” Your voice was quiet, but certain.

His breath caught.

You took a step closer. “I care about a lot of people. But you—” A small, almost nervous smile played at your lips. “You are different.”

Viktor swallowed. He had spent so long avoiding the truth that it almost knocked the air from his lungs.

You cared for him. Not because you pitied him. Not because you saw him as weak.

But because you wanted to.

Because you loved him.

And suddenly, he was laughing—soft, breathless, incredulous.

Because maybe—just maybe—he loved you too.

[taelortot]

The Sun and the Moon

Part zero: Introduction (four screenshots and drabble)

Characters are in college!!!!!

Megumi Fushiguro was not known to be the most patient person in the world. Growing irritated with those who took up too much of the allotted time he allowed for. This would apply to basically everything— getting ready for the day, deciding on what to order at restaurants, perusing the grocery store when only going in for one item— and the list goes on and on. His patience was limited, growing thinner and thinner as the days passed. Megumi was also not known to be the sweetest man in the world, no no no. Quite the opposite really. Snapping at those who interrupted him, growing angry with people who got off task, and frustrated when no one could pay attention for more than 5 minutes.

That applied to everyone. Everyone he’s ever interacted with his whole life. Everyone who has looked his way.

Everyone except y/n.

It baffled his friends. Seriously throwing them through a loop that the man who yelled at them for speaking over him, was now allowing this petite girl to interrupt him to say the clouds look pretty.

“They do, baby” he would smile, turning his full attention to his girlfriend, taking in her beauty as she looked towards the sky.

Huffs and sighs coming from his friends, eyerolls and arms crossing as Megumi allowed his girlfriend to point out little shapes she saw in the puffy white clouds.. instead of continuing to discuss the plan for the mission they were going on in a few days. When his attention eventually returns to where it should have been, his hands always find their way to the girl who is sitting as patiently as she can. Holding her hand in his, calloused thumb brushing over the pretty promise ring he purchased a few months ago. Or one hand on the back of her neck, fingertips massaging her skin, running his fingers through her soft vanilla scented hair.

It wasn’t always like this. It took time. It took time to realize she was always going to be 20 minutes late no matter how early she started getting ready because— “I couldn’t decide between this pink skirt or the other one” or “I couldn’t find my wedges so I had to change my whole outfit to match these ones” and Megumis favorite “I lost my cherry lip gloss that you love so much so I had to find it, doesn’t it taste good?”

So he learned to be patient with her. Only because y/n is hands down the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid eyes on. AND, she always gave him road head when they are running late to make it up to him.

Oh and he’s so fucking in love with her it’s stupid.

So fucking in love with the vanilla scented girl.

Sweet and syrupy. Sticky and warm. Like sugar cookies and waiting for Santa to come down the chimney.

Giving Megumi a taste at the childhood y/n insists he should have had.

At first Megumi couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that y/n was definitely not all there—In a constant state of carefree living. At first, he truly wondered if she was dropped on her head a few times—only because the shit that came from her mouth were absurd most of the time.

“Do you think if I pet raccoon I could train him to dance?”

“I really wish I could see an alien and ask it if they like ice cream— oh my god what if they don’t even have ice cream? Should I buy some just in case they visit me tonight?”

“Do you think your puppies can smell when I’m sad?”

And that list goes on and on and on. Mostly consisting of questions Megumi has now learned how to answer. Even if the answers don’t make sense.

"I'm pretty sure he could learn to dance, sweet girl."

"What flavor do you think they would like, baby?"

"I think they can sense your emotions, pretty girl"

When I say it took time for Megumi to really understand y/n, I mean it took TIME. But, after finding out the girl has severe adhd, it all made sense. Now he can sit back and enjoy that funny things she does.

As well as relishing in the comfort she gives him. It's like no other. How understanding she is, how she cares for him, how she takes care of him in ways he cannot comprehend. No one has ever taken the time to understand him, to REALLY understand him. Growing fiercely protective of his baby, keeping her safe from those who wish to tear her down in any way they could.

"you're not stupid, pretty girl. they are just jealous of how beautiful you are"

Now... that's always a touchy topic for y/n. Sure, the girl may be a bit ditzy and unaware-- but, why would she need to have a brain when Megumi could do all the thinking for her? A word Megumi heard a lot was 'bimbo', a word he had to look up after some frat guy called y/n that. And... while that might be correct, Megumi didn't see anything wrong with that. Well, the only issue he had was that every person who saw y/n sexualized her. Other than that, he had no issue with how naive and attractive she is. Always making sure to grab a handful of her tits whenever any male looked at her chest a little too long. Earning a giggle and a-- "Gumi, that tickles!"

God she was so innocent. And soooo in love with her boyfriend of 1 year.

There was something about the way she looked at him. A twinkle in her eye or something. It started from when she first made eye contact with him, as if the word stopped and he was all that mattered.

As if he's the one who drags the stars out of the dark every night.

As if he is the reason the moon shines so bright in the dead of night.

Or maybe Megumi was the moon to her. Illuminating the dark to guide her home, keeping her safe from what lurks in the shadows.

Like the way the moon influences the tides with its gravitational pull, Megumi pulled her in whatever direction was best for her. And no matter what, with Megumi by her side, she knew there would always be another bight night.

Another night to sleep safely.

Another night to hear the owl's hoot.

Another night to stay up late talking to the love of her life.

Just another night to be with him.

His little innocent girl— well mostly innocent. The things he’s done to her would surly send them both to hell.

But!! We can discuss that later.

Anyway, there isn’t one thing Megumi wouldn’t do for y/n. He would go to the ends of the earth just to see that pretty smile. While he remained standing with a cool and calm exterior, his body vibrates when he sees his girl. His chest on fire when he sees her smile. Oh god, and don’t get him started on her laugh. When he dies, he hopes that’s the last thing he hears.

It’s like on a semi cloudy day, the way the sun peaks out from behind the clouds, shining rays bursting through to create the most elegant shadows. Or when the sun shines down on painted glass, a mosaic of colors dancing on the sidewalk.

Maybe she’s just the sun.. maybe y/n is Megumis' sun. The thing that keeps him warm, the thing he needs every single day to survive, the light in his dark heart, reminding him that there will always be another day.

Another day to see the sun.

Another day to hear bird chirping.

Another day to be see the love of his life.

Another day to kiss her.

Another day to hold her.

Just another day with y/n.

taglist: @vellichor01 @loveyislost @gradmacoco @koreluvsspring @ersharyzst

[melodyreads]

Matchmaker

hamzah x reader

summary: The reader's friend has been trying make a move at Hamzah ever since she started seeing his online personality. While the reader tries to be a supportive friend, her feelings seem to be getting in the way of things. What if he feels the same?

this came to me in a dream, hope y'all enjoy

---

"Oh my god I can't do this"

It had been like this for almost an hour now.

You and your friend Holly were in the bathroom of Mandy and Martin's apartment. Music echoed in the background as Y/n leaned against the bathroom door tapping her foot as she started to get impatient.

"Seriously girl, just go talk to him. It's really not that deep, you're making it harder than it needs to be."

Y/n didn't care if she was being blunt it was what her friend needed to hear. She had always prided herself on being a good friend. Always offering to be the DD. Always listening to the boy's problems no matter how often she recommended the friend should just break up with him. So after Holly begged her to try and hook her up with Hamzah, the answer would obviously be yes. Why wouldn't it be? Being straightforward and honest came easy, so why did she feel she was holding something back.

She gripped the door handle once more, "Just follow my lead, it's all gonna work out."

Holly let out a sigh of relief, "Seriously Y/n.. what would I do without you."

Y/n flashed her a reassuring smile before turning with a more serious expression flashed her face. Y/n knew that this was Holly's first time actually meeting Hamzah, but it definitely wasn't hers.

Hamzah had been talking to Y/n over Instagram DM's for months now. From casual replies to story posts to sending each other random memes, it was easy to determine they would get along once they finally met each other at a party.

It was almost intimidating how well they got along, Y/n admired all the effort he put into his channel and how well he managed it all. Turns out, thousands of girls felt the same way.

With Holly's hand in yours, you searched for a familiar face through the crowd until you ran into Mandy.

She turned around looking surprised, "There you are! I've been searching everywhere for you two." Mandy pointed behind her, the boys have been so obsessed with that karaoke machine, I should have never purchased it."

Y/n looked past Mandy to see Hamzah and Martin singing karaoke together as if it were a competition on who could make the most noise. Hamzah wore a pink colored shirt that fit him a little too good with a hat that allowed his dark curls to peak through.

"That's a inappropriate way to describe your friend" she thought silently.

Y/n thanked Mandy before walking up to the boys with microphones. As she approached them she could feel a slight tug on her arm as she turned around to meet Holly's worried expression.

"Don't worry" she mouthed as she continued her way over to the duo. Her heart seemed to beat harder as she reached out to touch the arm of curly-haired boy. Probably due to him being the subject of the night.

As he turned to look at you, Hamzah's face practically lite up at the sight of your face.

"Y/n! Where have you been?" He reached down and hugged you with his one free hand and still held the microphone in the other. "I kept asking Mandy about where you ran off to." Y/n chuckled into the embrace. "I wasn't even gone that long,"

"Felt like ages." He muttered. Y/n tried not to think about how just one arm completely wrapped around her waist and how his fingers dug into her hips just right.

Holly cleared her throat.

"Shoot" She almost forgot why she was here.

Y/n released Hamzah with a jolt as she stepped to the side to introduce her friend, "I wanted you to meet Holly. Holly this is Hamzah, Hamzah this is Holly."

"You said that already" Holly said softly.

"Did I? Well... you get my point." Y/n looked back to Hamzah to see him he was staring back at her almost in disbelief.

Hamzah blinked, as if suddenly snapping out of a daze. His usual easygoing smirk returned, and he turned to Holly with a friendly nod.

"Hey, nice to meet you," he said, extending his hand.

Holly hesitated for a second before shaking it, her grip noticeably stiff. Y/n could feel the tension rolling off her friend, and she silently begged Holly to just relax. This was what she wanted, right?

"You too," Holly replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Y/n talks about you a lot."

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat. Did she really? Before she could gauge Hamzah’s reaction, he chuckled, looking between the two girls.

"All good things, I hope?"

Y/n forced a laugh, ignoring the way her palms suddenly felt clammy. "Mostly," she teased, hoping to lighten the mood. "Except for the part where you butcher every song you sing."

Hamzah gasped dramatically. "Excuse you, I was putting on a performance. It’s about passion, not pitch."

Martin, who had been silently watching the exchange with an amused grin, finally spoke up. "Man, you’re gonna pretend like you weren’t just screaming into the mic?"

Hamzah shrugged. "I was creating a vibe."

Y/n rolled her eyes, but she was grateful for the slight shift in energy. She glanced at Holly, who still looked nervous but was at least smiling now. That was progress.

"Speaking of vibes," Hamzah said, tilting his head. "You’re acting different tonight."

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat. "Different how?"

His eyes searched hers, as if trying to figure something out. "I dunno," he admitted. "Just... different."

Holly laughed, breaking the moment. "Probably because she’s been hyping me up for this conversation all night."

Hamzah raised an eyebrow. "This conversation?"

Y/n winced. So much for being subtle.

"She thinks you and Holly would make a great match," Martin chimed in, completely oblivious to the way Y/n’s stomach twisted at hearing it said out loud.

For a split second, something flickered in Hamzah’s expression—too fast for Y/n to catch. Then, he smiled. "Oh yeah?"

Holly nodded quickly. "I mean, yeah. You seem cool. And I think we’d get along?"

It came out more like a question than a statement, and Y/n resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands. She wanted to help, but something about this whole situation felt... off.

Hamzah glanced at Y/n again before turning back to Holly. "Well, I appreciate the intro," he said smoothly. "But I gotta admit, I didn’t expect this."

Y/n frowned. "Expect what?"

He hesitated, then grinned. "You playing matchmaker."

Her stomach dropped. There was something in the way he said it, something that made her feel like she had completely miscalculated. Before she could respond, Hamzah lifted his mic again.

"Anyway," he said, turning to Martin. "We got a song to finish."

And just like that, the moment was over.

Y/n watched as he walked away, laughing as Martin passed him the next song choice. Holly exhaled beside her.

"That wasn’t terrible," she murmured.

Y/n nodded numbly, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something had just shifted. And she wasn’t sure if she liked it.

--

The night continued as if nothing had happened. Holly chatted away, occasionally stealing glances at Hamzah, and Y/n did her best to stay present in the conversation. But her mind was elsewhere.

She kept replaying Hamzah’s words in her head. You playing matchmaker.

Why did it sound like there was something more behind them?

After a while, Holly got up to get another drink, and Martin was too busy butchering the lyrics to some 2000s throwback to notice the way Y/n was zoning out.

That’s when she felt someone slide into the seat beside her.

"Hey," Hamzah said, voice lower than usual.

Y/n turned to him with a surprised look plastered on her face. "...Hey."

He exhaled, drumming his fingers on the table. "So... Holly, huh?"

Y/n forced a smile. "Yeah. She’s great, right?"

Hamzah tilted his head, studying her. "She seems nice."

There was something careful about his tone, something measured. Y/n suddenly felt exposed, like he could see right through her.

"You don’t seem convinced," she pointed out.

He let out a soft chuckle. "It’s not that." He paused, then shook his head. "I just—I need to ask you something."

Y/n’s stomach tightened. "Okay?"

Hamzah leaned in slightly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Why are you trying so hard to set me up with someone else?"

Her breath hitched. Feeling as though she had just been accused of murder. "What?"

"You heard me." His eyes searched hers, serious now. "Is it because you actually think we’d be good together? Or because you’re trying to convince yourself of something?"

Y/n’s pulse quickened. "That’s not—"

"Because if it’s the second one," he continued, his gaze unwavering, "then I need you to tell me right now."

Y/n swallowed hard. The air around them felt heavier, charged. "Hamzah, I was just trying to—"

"To ignore this?" he interrupted.

She froze.

Hamzah ran a hand through his hair, as if frustrated with himself. "Look, I wasn’t gonna say anything. I thought maybe I was imagining things. But then you tried to push me toward Holly, and all I could think was—why would you do that? Unless you were trying to avoid something."

Y/n’s heart was pounding now.

Before she could react, he reached out, gently taking her hand in his. It wasn’t dramatic, wasn’t rushed. Just quiet, steady.

"Tell me I’m wrong," he said. "Tell me there’s nothing here, and I’ll drop it."

Y/n opened her mouth, but no words came out. Because she couldn’t say it.

"What would Holly think?"

As if he could read her mind Hamzah sighed and spoke again, "Can you please stop thinking about what everyone else wants and just tell me.. what do you want?"

Y/n felt a pang of guilt matched with a sudden urge to jump on top of the boy in front of her.

Hamzah exhaled, his grip tightening just slightly. "Y/n, I like you."

The words settled between them, heavy and undeniable.

She sucked in a sharp breath. "You—"

"I like you," he repeated, softer this time. "Not Holly. Not anyone else. And I think... I think you feel the same way."

Y/n felt like the entire world had just shifted.

Because, for the first time, she couldn’t run from it.

But she was done running.

Y/n placed her hand on the side of Hamzah's face and pulled him in for a kiss that made her forget about every person that could be watching around her.

He matched her vigor as their lips moved against each other with fever. His free hand grabbed at her waist as if it would disappear if he let it go for too long while his other hand softly ran up and down the arm still cupping his face.

Y/n broke the kiss with a shaky breath as she finally spoke, "I like you too."

The moment the words left her lips, something in Hamzah’s expression shifted. Relief. Something deeper.

"You do?" he asked, as if he needed to hear it again to believe it.

Y/n let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head. "Yeah. I do."

A slow, lopsided smile spread across his face. "Then why were you trying to set me up with Holly?"

Y/n groaned, covering her face with her hands. "Because I was just trying to make everyone happy. I thought... I don't know, I thought the two of you might have got along and I figured that was more important than what I wanted."

Hamzah chuckled, tugging her hand away from her face. "You really thought that would work?"

She shrugged, feeling suddenly shy. "It was worth a shot."

He shook his head, amused. "Y/n, I’ve only ever had eyes for you."

She felt her breath hitch at these words.

"From the moment we met," he continued, his voice quieter now, "it’s always been you."

Y/n felt her heart squeeze.

And as he laced his fingers through hers, Y/n realized she had been waiting too.

[prettylynnpup]

The Neighbor

You'd been hearing tale on and off about someone moving in to that empty house across the street. These tales weren't new though - it seems like there'e been at least one "rumor" per year, and they've always been wrong.

At least, they used to be wrong. Until xe moved in.

9:30 PM, you'd just gotten off of work and finally made it home when you got a knock on your door. "Who the fuck would knock at 9:30?" You pondered to yourself. Because, as far as you remembered, nobody in this neighborhood would knock so much as past 6.

You walk to your door, not knowing what to expect, and you open it. On the other side of the door is a girl you've never seen before. Long black hair, a black dress, chains, some green accents, and a collar were the things you thought most notable about xer. You weren't sure why, but you were especially taken in by that collar, almost like it was stealing your vision away from xer beautiful-

"Hey, neighbor. I just wanted to stop by because I'm still meeting everyone in the neighborhood. Name's Fern."

*click*

Fern... You couldn't stop repeating xer name in your head, no matter how hard you tried. You could swear that you heard a click when xe said xer name, but you elect to ignore it. The name kept repeating and repeating, making it harder to think. At least, until xe waved a hand in your face.

"Hey! Earth to uh, whatever your name is, are you doing okay?"

'Yes! I'm splendid actually!' You wanted to say in response, but found yourself letting out a gentle bark.

"What was that? I think I misheard you?" Fern probes.

You bark again, more confidently.

"I guess I didn't mishear you then, did I?" A glimmer seems to appear in Fern's eye when xe realizes that, yes, you did just bark at xer twice.

"How about we operate like this: one bark for yes, two for no?"

You bark once in response. If you're not going to be able to use your words then goddamn it will you find another way to communicate with the gorgeous owner woman standing on the other side of your door.

"Do you know why it is that you're barking?"

You bark twice. No clue.

"So you didn't notice?"

You turn your head in confusion. Notice what? Did xe do something while you weren't paying attention?

"And you 100% don't remember me at all?"

You bark twice. 'No.' These questions were starting to get really strange. What did xe mean, remember xer? This is xer first time over to your door, right?

"Good. Good puppy."

*click*

A shock went down your spine as you felt yourself get turned on at that phrase. You were painfully embarrassed to be turned on in front of new company, and even more so by the thing that turned you on. Being called a good puppy? You'd never been into petplay - you tried being an owner for your last partner and it just really didn't work out.

Fern walks into your house, heading straight for your kitchen.

'Hey! What are you doing in here? Get out of my house!' Oh right, all you can do is bark. So, you follow xer around your house and bark and bark and bark while xe rummages through your cabinets.

"Puppy, sit."

Your body obeys. You're now on the floor, entirely against your own will. You try to get up, but your arms are so heavy and your paws hands feel so stupid.

"There we go!" Fern loudly announces as xe finds whatever it is that xe was looking for. After a few seconds of fiddling, xe moves behind you and your tail starts wagging gently.

Wait, you don't have a tail, right? How would you be able to feel wagging if you don't have a tail? What the fuck is going on?

*click!*

You feel something tighten around your neck... Your owner put your collar on! Yay!!! You love your owner and you're so glad that xe's back!

Wait... N-no, you don't... That's not right... Something's wrong...

"There we go, that's my sweet pet~"

You start panting... Owner's words feel so good... Maybe you should just fully give in, but only this once right? You won't submit any more after this...

*click!*

You feel a tug from your collar... Owner leashed you today! Thank goodness, you wouldn't want to get lost. Owner picks up a set of keys from the ground and locks that old house, and you and owner start the journey to xer house.

"Finally, fully my little puppy~"

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[akindaflora]

Say it with Conviction

Bangchan (idol) x Reader (Fluff)

Warnings: Thoughts about depression, Insecurities in not being enough, Some kissing and some suggestive themes were mention. Bangchan is called Chan, Channie, and Christopher.

Description: Morning depression hits you hard as you awoke in your lover arm. He finds you crying and he comforts you with words of passion and truth expressing his love for you.

Author note: Hey gang was feeling major morning depression and I just couldn't help but think about Chan and how he might comfort a lover in deep insecurity about their relationship. Instead of mopping I wrote this. Now glad that I did because in a way it did help me feel less alone in my little delusional bubble. Hope this warms you as much as it did me when writing this story. :)

WORD COUNT 2,357

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You have always dealt with deep depression since you could remember. Always sad on days you should be the happiest scared for the start of a new year wondering if worse things will come. But when you got together with Chan, you did your best to hide the sadness away. Afraid he would leave like all the others did when they found you crying over nothing or laying in your bed like the wakening of a funeral.

“You are always sad, why can’t you see the good in the world,”

“You are so self-centered it’s not always about your problems,”

“I can’t take it anymore Y/N it’s your birthday and all you can do is be anxious,”

“You need help and I just can’t be it,”

The phrasing of words from past lovers cut through your heart like a knife. Constantly afraid you were undeserving of love and constantly holding back to show only the best sides of yourself. It had been a problem with most of your relationships. And yet while you tried to build your walls so high only a few ever stood up to the test. Your close friends who'd never let you shut them out and to your surprise Chan.

That was the most surprising thing about your relationship with Chan. Every time you tried to push him away he’d do something unexpected getting a laugh out here and there. Finding the root of the problem before you could even find the words to explain. Even going so far as to wash you when the world was heavy. And he never said a word against it only that you should always feel comfortable talking to him about anything. He made it his purpose that you were to always feel love even if he was miles away. And when you simply needed space to process he would give you it but never stopped at making sure you eat by sending a few deliveries here and there. Sending a bouquet of your favorite flowers with simple love notes that remind you why he loved you.

Even when you felt alone he was always there. Apart of you was afraid that one day he’d wake up and leave. Walk through the door and never speak to you again but every day he found new ways to stay. Planning trips so you always had something to look forward to. Buying matching clothes or jewelry so you’d both have a piece of each other no matter the distance. He always did his best to respect your boundaries and still somehow pushed the limit that you didn’t know could be pushed.

But as you lay on his chest listening to his heartbeat you couldn’t help but to let a few tears slide down your face. If there was one thing Chan was scared of in your relationship it was your tears. “You never make a noise when you're sad, please find me don’t close yourself off, you don’t even have to say a word,” he would say as he would caress your head and hold you like it was all he was ever made to do. And while you wanted to wake him up you didn’t. The voices in your head had been growing these days. Reminding you of all the things he did for you but what did you do for him?

Nothing

The voice ranged deep in your head reminding you of feelings you did your best to talk yourself out of. As if he could sense your sadness in his sleep his hand that rested around you tightened pulling you closer to him, his spirit trying to remind you that you were his everything. Tears fell from your face even more like a damn breaking gushing from your eyes. You thought about getting up to whip your eyes before he woke but you remained frozen in his warmth more afraid to ruin the sleep that he desperately needed. No matter the painful thoughts telling you to leave him before he did. You couldn't, he is everything you could have ever wished for.

With that thought you carefully tilted your head to look at him. He was smiling in his sleep, your heart clenching at your lover. You slowly brought a hand to his face pushing away the wild hair that peaked towards his closed eyes. And softly you fell into a trace slowly running your hands on his nose. Softly touching around the shape of his lips. He slightly shudders at the feeling of your touch and his eyes slowly opening. His hand sleepily looking for your face but his eyes shot open at the feeling of your tears.

“what’s wrong baby,” he said voice groggy with sleep as he turned to face you not letting go of your waist. “did you have a nightmare?” he said whipping the tears from your eyes. You only smiled at him, your morning sadness slipping away at every touch.

“It’s nothing do you want breakfast?” you asked stroking his cheek as his eyes looked at you with worry frowning only a bit at your dismissal of your own emotions. He studied your face looking deep into your eyes searching for whatever may be the cause to make you cry so early in the morning.

“It’s not nothing if it makes you cry, tell me what’s wrong I'd find a way to make winter stop if it made you too cold or hid the sun away if it made you too hot. There is nothing in this world that’ll stop me from caring even about the simplest things that make you cry, tell me please so I can find a way to bring you peace,” he said with urgency. You only smiled quietly at his determination to bring you joy.

“but I'm happy right now see I'm smiling,” you said giving him a light peck to ease his mind. “your the reason I'm smiling now so you have nothing to worry about,” you said running you fingers over his furrowed brow you began to try and leave the bed. Key word tried. Chan didn't let go only pulling you closer. Rubbing softly at your back gliding up and down from your arms as he looked see into your eyes.

“Yeah but I found you crying, why didn’t you wake me what do I always say,” he said but as he started you said the words in sync, “Always find me” him giggling at your joking expression. “it’s nothing to worry about I promise,” you said after he still didn’t let go. He only pulled you in more in response. Your head back to his chest as he caressed your head. You couldn’t help but sigh in relief. Tightening your arms around his waist.

After what felt like hours only a few seconds he spoke again into your head. “You know when you say it’s nothing, I get afraid that you’ll leave. I’m afraid that I’ll never be your cure anymore,” he said quietly almost in a whisper. If you weren’t so close you’d probably miss it. Your head rose from his chest quickly as you looked into his eyes sternly. “I would never leave you, Chan, if anything I’m more afraid you’ll leave me thinking I’m too much or too little,” you said caressing his head softly. Trying to push away the fear from his mind.

“Is that why you were crying this morning,” he asked quietly. Putting your head back in his chest you sighed. He always found a way to wiggle the truth out of you. You both never being good at hiding from each other. It was always scary how well you both could see each other and how easy it was to confess your darker sides. But yet you never ran from it. If anything it brought you both closer like it did in this moment.

Tracing shapes on his chest you began to whisper out, “I’m afraid I don’t do enough for you,” you said quietly. He remained quiet as if giving you space to explain more as his grip tightened slightly. “You do so much for me love, you give me space when I need it, you buy me flowers and food and you even help me wash when I can’t. I’m afraid all I do is take from you. I’m worried I don’t add up to you,” you said with a bit more courage. He pulled back slightly pulling you both up to sit and look at each other but he didn’t let go. Fear ranged in your eyes as he did so worried that your words had woken him from this dream to a nightmare of reality.

He looked in the distance as if trying to find the words. This is it said the voice in your head he’s gonna finally break up with you.

He took a deep breath before looking at you carefully reaching for your face to rub away the tears that flowed with ease. And he softly kissed your forehead before he spoke.

“My love, you do more for me than you can even see,” he said with determination. “I’m never leaving you if anything you’d leave me. You do so much for me. When I’m sick you take care of me with such care. When I get hurt from practice you force me to rest and even go so far as to find ways to ease my pain. You make me lunches with cute notes that taste only of your love. When it’s my birthday you make me the most beautiful cake and get only the most thoughtful gifts that I don’t even think about. When I’m stressed from work you give me massages that help ease my mind. When I go to bed sometimes I get too excited to sleep because I can’t wait to experience another day with you. You fill my mind even when I dream it’s only about you. You’re so caring and kind and you have these moments of true bliss that I work hard to keep on your face. Hell, even now when you are crying you are more worried about me. You are my everything I'd never leave you.” In between every sentence that left his mouth, you couldn't help but smile gripping onto him as if he disappeared and he did the same looking into your eyes with worry as he said each sentence. But no matter how worried he was there was a fire of determination to prove his love was real and that you were his end game. “if anything I'm trying to find ways to keep you with me forever. I’d plead to the gods just to have you again in another life,” he said again rubbing your cheek as you laughed.

“Your obsessed with me aren’t you,” you said sweetly looking into his eyes. He only nodded smiling at your smile. “Good because I’m just as obsessed with you,” you said back. his smiling deepening as he rushed to take your lips.

“You’re forever mine,” he said in between pecks. You giggled at his possessives. “And your forever mind right,” you asked questioning. He looked at you with slight confusion a small pout. “Say it with conviction,” he said looking into your eyes studying your face as you smiled again, “Your forever mine,” you said this time with just as much determination as him. He smiled as he peck your lips.

“Louder,” he said simply. “say it again but louder,” he said again pleading running through his voice.

“YOUR FOREVER MINE,” you said again. Him slightly wincing at your loudness but he giggled as he pecked your lips again.

“And don’t you dare forget it,” he said going back in for a longer kiss. Deepening as your lips moved. You sighed happily feeling every loving thought every loving touch he tried to tattoo upon your heart your soul.

The kiss grew with urgency to help you remember this moment for the next time that stupid voice was in your head.

He suddenly pulled away but not before pecking the areas of your face. You giggled in response, “Channie” you said softly with giggles still slipping from your lips. He pulled back so he could kiss your lips softly only touch your lip as if stamping his love with approval.

He pulled back again this time picking you up in his arms as he led you to the kitchen. You laughed loudly and slapped his chest softly.

“What are you doing,” you said as he walked looking down at you with a smile.

“Oh nothing just taking the love of my life to the kitchen so we can have breakfast together,” he said as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

Your heart beating at his words and looking at his face for any lies or anything foul but as you looked you only found his love for you. You only leaned up kissing his cheek. “And what does the love of my life want to eat,” you said whispering in his ear. His cheeks blushing at your question.

He smirked a little something naughty brewing in his mind, “I’d say you but sadly humans have these things called stomachs and while I think you are more than enough I guess I can settle for some pancakes and maybe if you're keen I can have a little nibble of you,” he said setting you down on the counter. You looked away as a deep blush settled onto your face. Still to this day, you could never understand how he could be so sweet and charming to so devilish in a mere second.

“Christopher,” you said covering your smile as he only laughed kissing the side of your head. “chocolate or blueberry,” he said simply in response pulling your face back to his own smiling face.

“Chocolate,” you said back with your own smile. But as you tried to get off to help with the ingredients he shook his head keeping you there. “Nope not today,” he said rubbing circles on your hips with his thumb. “Today my love gets to sit pretty as I make them breakfast,” Your face forming to protest but he silent you with a kiss that linger only slightly before pecking again.

“If you're really itching to help you sit their and tell me hot I am when I mix the batter,” he said again. You only laughed at him, “your egos so big,” you said looking lovingly into his eyes. He only scoffed, “How could I not be when I get to wake up to the love of my life every morning,” he said inches away from your lips.

You only pushed him away before he could kiss you again, he looked slightly offended at you pushing him away but smiled as you blew him a kiss, “You dork just go make the pancakes and maybe I’ll cheer you on hot stuff,” you said jokingly his smiling winding at your words as he caught your kiss bringing it to his heart.

Oh yeah, you guys were definitely stuck with each other. But you wouldn't have it any other way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After reading notes: hahahaha I hope I didn't fill your delusions too much. But when looking for my own stores to read I can't help but feel a lack of soft Chan moments. He always written as the leader and this tough steam engine that could if you read the feugo like stories. And while I don't disagree with him being this hot dom, I can't help but to crave more of his softer sides that we get to see pop out every once in awhile when he decides to make his presence known in content. I treasure those moments because it reminds me that he still gets to feed into that inner child every so often. I just hope he feels as loved as he does with Y/N in this. Sorry brb gonna go write in my diary about being obsessed with some random Idol that doesn't know I exist. Ha very much feeling spain again. RIP :(: Hope you enjoyed, write again soon.

[yuripira4e]

Rather than devotion, I would argue It’s a matter of how much they take their relationship for granted. To me, because Spock was not often forced into random relationships with little emotional pull for the fans but he would act as if was his true love (cough Kirk), and just his general personality Spock is always shown as the “straight man” of the duo and this diligent, straight laced “Vulcan” way he is makes it that much more interesting when he will unadhere to any morals or beliefs for Kirk and no one else. Really our only example of someone he should be willing to do that for was T’Pring who he straight up doesn’t know and dislikes in regular canon. He’s consistent in his small acts of love and it adds up so wholly and fully and it is truly peak devotion. He would never disregard how meaningful their relationship is because he understands the weight of his actions and giving up his strict set of morals and makes his decisions to solemnly. But Kirk wouldn’t either. If anyone asked Spock is undoubtedly his best friend, his right hand, and the person he cares the most for. He shows this constantly with his actions (if we’re talking devotion let’s talk blowing up his entire ship, risking his career and life, and his just unrivaled desperation to get Spock back and make him remember him). However he’s also this charismatic, intelligent but impulsive, and not generally law abiding character. He’s forced into relationships constantly that the writers couldn’t write with the formula “he chooses Spock over them” because that would have been really too gay for that time period. Yet it didn’t stop him from doing it anyways. His wants and beliefs change so much and he loves so freely everything and everyone around him that it’s harder to see his devotion for Spock when it’s not so pronounced as “he would do this thing only for him” (minus the whole giving up his entire life for him snd never leaving when things got difficult part thing) but it’s also what Spock loves about him. Kirk wouldn’t be Kirk if he wasn’t willing to do whatever to save everyone he could and didn’t fall in love with the universe around him in ways Spock was always still learning to do and appreciate. Kirk takes his unfiltered love for everything around him for granted sometimes and the relationships it’s earned him. For main example, Spock. Kirk does choose women or adventure or whatever over Spock sometimes, never maliciously or even really genuinely because he always does choose Spock in the end, but the second he looses any connection or respect from Spock he’s right back where he belongs and wants to be. He takes their bond for granted sometimes because he truly acts like he couldn’t imagine it ever withering and no matter how down bad he is for the new woman he barely knows, he knows it couldn’t hold a candle and he doesn’t expect it to. (More angsty if you believe he just hadn’t really realized his own feelings and always thought of Spock’s love as a baseline for all his needs and his romantic pursuits as what he was supposed to add onto his life). He shows his love in big actions, with the same small ones as Spock littered through out. He thinks about him all the time and would disregard that love for life just for his love for him. His thought processes in some of the novels are crazy he’s truly never not thinking about Spock or if he isn’t he never questions their relationship or if he’d ever need to choose someone over Spock. Because simply put, he wouldn’t and everyone knows that. Neither are more devoted, they’re equally insane about each other. Anything Spock would do for Kirk, he would do 10x over in every universe, but their priorities and thought processes are different.

Don't get me started on how Spock is so much more devoted to their relationship than Kirk is.

[cherryknotsclub]

ON THE RIDE HOME | 𝖓𝖊𝖌𝖆𝖓 𝖘𝖒𝖎𝖙𝖍

✘ summary: negan gets a little too jealous when someone stares at you longer than they should, and he won't wait to get home to prove how much you're his.

✘ pairing: sugardaddy!negan smith x fem!sugarbaby!reader

✘ warnings: jealous negan, daddy kink, fingering, semi-public sex, car sex, breast and nipple play, slight impact play, very dubious negan at the end

It's a silent ride from the restaurant back to Negan's place. It's never usually like thism You'd either be chatting about what's been going on in your lives or teasing and toying with each other in preparation for the "cardio" that you always had after a date.

You play with the hem of the mini dress you were wearing—a vintage Chanel piece that Negan had gotten you a few months ago. You wonder if he didn't like your choice of outfit for the night. But he certainly would've made you change instead of looking you up and down with a smirk on his face if he truly didn't approve.

It's definitely a revealing dress with the way it hugs your curves. The skirt just barely covers your ass and the sweetheart neckline shows off your breasts. But then again, most of Negan's gifts have at least one of the two criteria.

"You alright?" You finally ask, unable to contain yourself. You can't stand the deafening silence any longer, and you have no idea what could've possibly set him off. "What's wrong?"

Negan glances at you before returning his eyes on the road. "I'm fine, doll."

"No, you're not," you argue, crossing your arms. "You're being quiet. What is it?"

You can see Negan's grip on the steering wheel tighten as he sighs. "The fucking waiter back in that restaurant."

You raise your eyebrow. "And? What about him?"

"He was staring down at your tits every chance he got." He grunted, eyebrows furrowing. "Every damn time he came over, he was hovering behind you and staring at 'em."

You can't help but smirk. If there was one thing you loved about Negan, it was how so damn possessive he was of you. He loves showing you off and have everyone looking at you, but he absolutely hates it when any of them try to make a move on you.

"Someone's jealous," you teased, poking his shoulder. Leaning over to him, you kiss his cheek and start rubbing his thigh. "I love it when you're jealous."

"Doll, I'm not jealous."

"C'mon, daddy, no need to be grumpy," you whisper in his ear, your hand sliding up his thigh, going higher and higher until it arrives at his crotch.

A low hum leaves Negan's throat as you grab his semi-hard cock through the fabric of his slacks, your fingers wrapped around and palm pressed against his girthy length. Rubbing his cock, you feel it harden and grow under your touch. Licking your lips, you reach for his zipper before he grips your wrist to stop you.

"Not yet, sweetheart. We don't want to get in an accident because my dick's down that pretty throat of yours now, do we?"

You blush as you pull yourself off of him. Too eager to please him, you almost forgot he was driving. You look out the window as the trees and cars pass by your line of view. The car then goes off the road and onto the grass before Negan parks it behind a couple of trees.

"Why are we stopping?" You ask, looking at the array of trees that barely covered the view of the highway, and likely unsuccessful from hiding the parked sports car on the side of the road from the passing drivers' end.

That's when Negan reclines his seat as far as it could before patting his leg. "This is where I'm gonna fuck your brains out, doll."

Your cheeks get hot, both out of being shy and being turned on by the risky situation Negan put the both of you in. Just the thought of having his thick cock stretch out your tight pussy in such a place makes you squirm in your seat. Still, you can't help but ask—

"What if we get caught?"

He chuckles before leaning over to you, his lips pressed to your ear while his hand rubs the inside of your thigh. "Honey, if that happens, I'll just fuck your sweet pussy even harder. I don't care how they do, but everyone's going to find out that you're mine."

He spreads your legs open, forcing your short dress to hike up and reveal the wet spot on your panties. "Look at you, sweetheart, I barely even touched you and you're already ready for me."

Negan presses the pad of his thumb against your clit through the soaked fabric, making you gasp. He pushes your underwear aside, before sticking two of his calloused fingers in your hole, your juices making them slide in easily.

"I saw the way that waiter was lookin' at you. You have no fucking idea how badly I wanted to punch that piece of shit in the face," Negan growls as his fingers pump in and out of your needy pussy, his thumb toying with your sensitive nub. "I wanted to bend you over the table and fuck you in front of him and everyone else at that shitty restaurant staring at you, let 'em know you're mine."

Your moans become louder as his fingers work themselves inside of you faster, your back arching as your nails dug into the luxury leather of the passenger seat for support. With your chest pushed out, Negan takes the opportunity to grab the front of your dress and pull it down, your tits spilling out. The cold air from the air conditioning hits your nipples, making them erect.

"I've been starin' at these since I saw you tonight—I fucking loved watching them bounce and jiggle with every move you made." He reveals, squeezing one of your breasts in his free hand. With his thumb and index finger, he rolls your nipple between them, pinching and pulling at the hard nub. "I know those fucks at the restaurant were staring at 'em too. But y'know what, sweetheart? I don't blame them."

Negan's lips latches themselves onto your other breast, tongue flicking and rolling around your nipple. You arch your back further at the sensation, his face pressing against your tits while his greying stubble grazed your soft skin. His fingers continue pumping themselves in and out of your pussy, the squelching sound of his fingers against your folds mixing with your moans and pants. You're getting close to cumming, so close to making a mess from his fingers alone.

Just as waves of pleasure were about to come over you, Negan yanks his fingers out of your pussy and takes his mouth off your tits. You can't help but cry out, legs shaking from how good he was making you feel.

You whine, looking at him with doe eyes and pouty lips, which only made him chuckle as he licks off your juices from his fingers.

"Do you want to cum, doll?"

You nod your head eagerly, desperate to continue what he'd put on hold. Instead of his fingers continuing to work it's way inside you, your non-verbal response only gets you a smack on your inner thigh, making you squeal.

"You better use your words, honey." He says, his hand hovering over your thighs as a warning. "I know I fingered you good, but I doubt it was enough to make you dumb."

"Yes, daddy, I want to cum. Please let me cum," you splutter, lustful desperation laced in every word that left your mouth.

He grins, satisfied with your answer, before taking off his shirt, giving you a view of his stubbly chest and his tattoo-covered muscles. You lick your lips in anticipation as he unzips his pants and pulls out his thick, veiny cock, which is proudly standing upright from how hard it already is.

"Don't think I'm gonna do all the work for you, darling." Negan grunts as he leans back in his seat, tapping on his thigh.

You fully pry off your dress and underwear from your body before eagerly crawling over to his side of the vehicle and straddling his lap. Positioning yourself over his cock, some of your wetness travels down from your folds and directly onto the veiny shaft. Hitching your breath, you start to sink onto his member, letting your needy hole be filled with his length. Moans leave your lips as you're stretched wide open by his girth, eyes almost rolling back at the all-too-familiar feeling of his dick inside of you.

Eventually, you have taken him in until the base, all in one thrust. You stay seated on Negan's lap while his cock was snuggly deep inside you. Biting your bottom lip, you looked up to Negan, who was humming lowly at how tightly you were squeezing him. Even after all this time, he could never get enough of the feeling of your inner walls wrapped around him.

"That's my good girl, taking my cock so well." He grins, reaching behind you to spank your ass, your skin rippling at the contact. "Now, show me how badly you want to cum."

You don't need to be told twice. Your hips start moving, almost as if raising and falling on their own. You start with slow, methodical thrusts, savoring the way his dick filled you up every time you went down on him. But it just isn't enough. You can't control yourself; his cock feels so good inside you. It's not long before you're bouncing up and down his thick length, both of your grunts and moans filling the air inside the vehicle.

You place your hands on his chest to steady yourself, nails almost digging into his skin at how addictive it was having his cock inside you. Negan has you stretched out so good, almost as if his cock was made to stretch and fill your pussy.

"Atta girl, show me how much you want this cock," Negan growls, his calloused hands toying with your bouncing tits. "C'mon baby, be a good fucking girl and cum all over Daddy's cock."

His words are like music to your ears. You pick up the pace, ignoring the burning in your legs from constantly thrusting yourself on his dick. You don't care how tired you were; it feels so goddamn good. Eventually, you lose all sense of rhythm in your thrusts; you're just mindlessly and sloppily riding his cock with one goal in mind.

"Fuck, I'm getting close," Negan grunts, before grabbing your hips and slamming upwards into you.

With the tight grip of hands on your hips, he's forced you to stay put as he fucks your hole. Negan leans forward to latch his lips on your neck, his teeth gnawing at and sinking into your skin. A mixture of moans and cries leave your lips as your legs shake from the sensations he's putting your body through.

The pressure continues to build from the pit of your stomach until you're finally over the edge, euphoria coming over you as your body shakes from your long-desired orgasm. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as Negan continues to slam his cock inside your quivering pussy, before you feel spurts of his hot cum shoot inside you.

Negan's fingers loosen on your hips—which you're sure will bruise from his grip—and you allow yourself to sink back down on his cock, keeping his seed plugged inside of you. You lean forward, pressing yourself against Negan, who immediately wraps his arms around you as you both come down from the high of your orgasms.

"Daddy, that was amazing," you breathe out, your fingers tracing over the outlines of the tattoos on his sweat-slicked chest.

He chuckles, running his hand through your hair. "You always say that, doll."

Just then, you start seeing red and blue lights and the sound of sirens. You look up and see a police car parked behind, with a uniformed officer stepping out.

You quickly scramble to get off Negan's lap and put your clothes back on, but he grabs you by your waist and slams you back down on his cock. "Not so fast, darling."

"What are you doing?" You squeak, squirming as his vice-like grip forces you to stay put with his dick inside you. "There's a cop coming over!"

Negan just laughs—as if it was incredulous for you to not want to be seen in such a situation.

"Sweetheart, did you think I was joking when I said I wanted everyone to know you're mine?"

[corkinavoid]

back to the old house the smiths

right person wrong time

winter evenings aesthetic

i really love your work thank you so much💖

DPxDC At the End & In the Beginning

All it takes is one little misstep.

He slips on the layers and layers of ice and snow covering the once concrete floor, tries to catch himself on the wall out of sheer reflex, and something silvery, metallic, and clanky goes clattering down. Dick doesn't even have time to feel his heart sinking as the object hits the icy floors, bounces, hits a table leg with a loud bang - metal to ice, it echoes through the abandoned, frozen and forgotten lab - and-

There's a beep, a hiss of pressurized air being released, and then, whatever it is that Dick dropped lights up and shoots a white, blinding beam out of itself.

Dick covers his eyes from the flash, since even the lenses of his mask are not able to dim it in the slightest.

Yet, he puts his hand down almost immediately when he hears the most unexpected, absolutely impossible sound.

A cough.

There's a man kneeling in front of him. A rather fit man, actually, despite the fact that Dick only sees his back and it's mostly covered with a black cape; he's got broad shoulders and, wow, those biceps are thicker than Dick's thigh. Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration, but they are big.

He is probably focusing on the wrong thing there because the man's hair is white, just as the snow around them, and floating like a flame. Which is arguably a more important detail than, well, biceps.

"Fucking kid," the man growls under his breath.

Now, Dick is a vigilante. It's pretty much in his job description to get stuck in an all-around confusing clusterfuck situation at least once a month. And yet, watching a buff man with flaming hair and some kind of beef with some unknown kid come out of... a thermos, okay, not the weirdest thing to store a man in, still takes its honorable place among the top ten confusing situations in his life. Not to mention that-

He must have made some sort of a sound, because the man turns around suddenly, his glowing red eyes locking with Dick's.

There's a long moment where neither of them says a word, both too stunned to react. Then, the man blinks.

"Huh," he says very eloquently, "At least he's had a few years, I guess."

Dick blinks, too, snapping himself out of a stupor. "What?" He asks, not sure where to start, and the man snorts.

"I mean, when I was imprisoned - according to this timeline, at least - you were still Robin. If you're Nightwing now, that means it's been a few years, at the least. Is your brother still dead?" He asks conversationally, rising from his kneeling position. Only he doesn't stand, he floats a few inches above the floor, and Dick might have suspected him to be Martian if not for the very wrong green hue of his skin and obviously more human-like, albeit a bit feral, features.

"What?" Dick asks again because he still understands absolutely nothing. The man gives him a weary, exasperated sigh.

"You know what, nevermind. Not like I care," he brushes his previous words off, "Where are we, anyway?"

Oh, that Dick can answer. He's almost glad for understanding at least something from all the stuff that comes out of the man's mouth.

"Amity Park," he says, "I don't know any street names here, but I've been trying to get to the starting point of this eternal winter apocalypse, so-"

"Stop right there," the man raises a hand in the air, frowning, and his face looks a tad bit lost, but mostly just sharp, eyes dangerously narrowed, "Winter apocalypse?"

Dick debates if he should be answering that at all, given the circumstances and the unknown origins of the entity. But, on the other hand, there's literally no way anything could get worse than it is.

"Yeah. We've got another ice age on our hands, and it looks like it started here. Like, right here," he gestures around himself, to the missing roof that looks like it was blown away, to the abandoned and frozen over lab equipment, and the layers and layers of snow and ice.

The man looks around as well, and Dick might be imagining it, but there's a flicker or recognition in his eyes as he takes in everything around him. Dick, however, decides it's his turn to ask questions now, "Who are you?"

"Name's Dan," the man introduces absently, not looking at Dick, and then his lips twist into a bitter smile, "I am the cause of the apocalypse." There's a pause where Dick feels his stomach abruptly sinking, and then the man adds, "Ah, not this apocalypse. A different one."

"Err, I feel like one apocalypse is enough. No, actually, one apocalypse is too many apocalypses. Please don't make more," Dick can't help but deadpan, and Dan barks a laugh.

"I've already made one. Not here, in a different timeline," he glances at Dick, "You've managed to stay alive till the very end in that one, too, actually. I guess your family is just very well adjusted for world ending events."

Different timelines are not an unfamiliar concept, and weirder shit has happened in his life, so Dick decides to believe it. However, that comes with a consequence of a dawning understanding: he is standing here, chit-chatting with someone who's caused an apocalypse. And he, albeit unintentionally, freed him.

"Relax, blue pants, world domination is not exactly interesting when there's nothing to dominate," Dan huffs a laugh, evidently noticing Dick tensing up, "Besides, it looks like no matter what my alternative self did, the result was all the same. We just had different approaches."

"What?" This is the third time Dick is asking this. He feels very stupid, yes, but he can't bring himself to ask more detailed questions. There's just too many confusing points.

Dan raises his head up, looking to the dark skies above them.

"If you say the eternal winter started here, then I believe I know what caused it," he says in a detached, emotionless voice.

Dick can't help but feel a spark of hope in his chest, "Really?!"

"Yes," Dan doesn't look at him, his flaming hair dimming slightly, "A destruction of a particularly powerful Ice Core would definitely achieve this effect." He pauses, and Dick knows he should ask for more context because he still understands nothing, but something in the man's posture, in his tight expression and firm line of his lips stops the words from coming.

So, instead, he asks, "How do you fix it?"

Dan's eyes finally snap back at him, and his eyes are red like blood and so, so tired.

"You can't fix death, Richard Grayson. It's too late."

~•~•~•~

I sure took my time with this one, I'm sorry.

I didn't get to explaining much in text - and I'm much too lazy to turn this into an actual fic even if it has the potential to be one - so, long story short, the Bad Fenton Parents Ending happened, only no one came to rescue. Danny spent too much time down in the lab, strapped to the table and cut open, but no one came. In the end, either Fentons have done something to his core, or he couldn't handle it anymore and self-destructed/destabilized from all the suffering. His core exploded, causing the winter apocalypse that quickly spread. Months/years later, what remained of the heroes have located the original source of where it all started from, and Nightwing went to investigate, looking for any kinds of clues to reverse the ice age.

Honestly, I kind of played with both the trope and the aesthetic here - I mean, it's definitely 'right person wrong time' when you think about it, Nightwing did find Daniel Fenton in the lab, but it was much too late, and it's definitely a 'winter evening' but probably not the one you expected.

At least I got the song alright? Actually, no, I twisted the whole meaning of it as well. Anyway, I like what it turned into, even if it's surprisingly depressing.

I'm adding a little aesthetic that I used for this piece:

Hope you like it!

[stellamarielu]

friendly competition

declan o’hara x female reader

summary: on a business trip with declan, the two of you are forced to share a room which can only lead to rising tensions and unspoken realizations.

content: nsfw, 18+, enemies to lovers-ish, one bed trope lets gooo, angst, arguing, hate sex, infidelity [but does it really count if his wife left him??], oral m & f receiving, cock warming for a hot second, dirty talk, kinda rough, unprotected sex [oops], finishing inside [oops again]

author’s note: she’s hereee! i had so much fun writing this one so thank you to whoever suggested hate sex with declan lol i hope it lives up to your expectations

—

Declan didn’t work with you very often. He had exchanged plenty of pleasantries and seen you around the office enough to know he didn’t care to talk to you more than the occasional “Hello” or “How are you today?” He knew it was rude to be so judgmental and short with you, but he was only in the building for one thing and it wasn’t to make friends. He was there to produce hard hitting journalism in the form of an unoriginal talk show to please the one and only Tony fucking Baddingham.

His bad attitude about work wasn’t helped by the fact that his home life had become an absolute shit-show since moving to Rutshire. Between his failing marriage and his daughter’s constant frustration with him for meddling in her dating life, he found himself desperate to stay out of his own home. He worked late most nights and poured himself empty into the never-ending glass of Corinium television.

So when Tony asked him to go on an overnight trip to London for a work prospect, Declan agreed without so much as a second thought. His boss then decided to add that you of all people would be joining him, and it had Declan’s head spinning with regret.

You were everyone’s favorite producer and subsequently the one person Declan couldn’t stand sitting next to in meetings. Simply put– you annoyed him. The way you walked, the way you talked; Declan was constantly irritated by your happy go lucky personality. You were always so cheery and optimistic, and it got under his skin. It was so unrealistic for someone to be that happy all the time. It was all fake, he knew it had to be; the constant smiles, the sing-song tone of your voice, the way you had everyone wrapped around your finger with your constant jokes and can-do attitude. Surely it was all a ruse to become a network favorite so you could climb your way to the top. Whatever the reason was for your encouraging outlook on life, Declan told himself he could suck it up for a day and be cordial on this little business trip with you. 

He had done a good enough job once you arrived in London. The two of you were so busy with business matters that you didn’t interact much.

You were your usual polite and perky self, yet he found himself much less annoyed with you in this environment. Maybe it was because you weren’t around the others from the office, or perhaps he had psyched himself out the night before, losing sleep over the idea of being stuck with you for 24 hours, when the reality of it was much less jarring. 

The point was Declan was beginning to find your presence much less unbearable than usual.

However, that all came crumbling down once you checked into your hotel for the night. He was standing at the front desk fuming with annoyance while you were just standing next to him all pleasant and nonconfrontational. 

“Like I said before, neither of us booked the room. It’s through our company, but I can assure you there should be two separate rooms under the name.” 

Declan’s voice was loud and stern; not quite a yell, but if this woman at the front desk tried to convince him he didn’t know what he was talking about one more time, it would be. 

There had been some sort of mistake with the hotel booking. When you and Declan checked in you were given the keys for one room with a single bed. Declan had argued many times that you should have two rooms, but the woman across from him had no issue disputing his claims. She informed Declan that there was only one room on the reservation and the hotel was currently at capacity so there were no extra rooms available to even attempt solving the problem at hand. 

While Declan was growing more livid by the second, you were nothing but calm and cooperative– a complete pushover. 

“It’s really okay! We’ll figure something out, no worries.” 

Your voice was unphased and you were smiling apologetically at the staff that was now gathering at the front desk. You took the room key and shuffled Declan off toward the elevators. 

He was looking at you with the most aggravated expression imaginable. He wasn’t even close to being done debating with the hotel staff, he was determined to right their wrong. He always got what he wanted.

Yet here you were pulling him away from the conflict with an annoyingly hopeful tone in your voice, regardless of the shitty situation. Why the fuck were you being so nice.

“Declan, there’s nothing they can do. We’ll just have to figure it out with one room.” You were doing your best to level with the angry Irishman as he shot you another look of irritation. 

Pressing the button on the wall in front of you, you silently hoped that an elevator would come available so you could just get to your room as fast as possible. You were certain Declan was going to continue fighting you on this, so getting away from the lobby was your current priority. 

“That’s absurd, I’ll just take a train back home this is ridiculous.” 

“Seriously? That’s how big of an issue sharing a room is?” you were laughing at the silliness of the situation.

“We have a meeting in the morning with that guy from BBC. Are you planning to hop on another train to get back here by 8am?”

He just stared at you as if answering a silent, “if that’s what it takes.”

“Fine do whatever you want but I’m staying in room 553 and enjoying free breakfast in the morning.” Looking down at the key in your hand as you spoke, you recited the room number printed on it in a sleek black font.

With that, the elevator doors in front of you opened with a ‘ding’ and you were taking a step inside. Declan was deliberating for a split second before he followed behind you, the doors closing and sealing his fate. 

“I’ll even sleep on the floor if that makes you feel better.” You were lightly laughing but you meant it. 

You didn’t want Declan to be upset or uncomfortable. It was just one night; you could deal with whatever repercussions found you tomorrow if it meant he would be in a good mood and not yelling at hotel employees. 

After your offer to sleep on the floor echoed in the small space, his head snapped in your direction. His expression was a mixture of humor and impatience.

“You are absolutely not sleeping on the floor.” His voice was a low hum matching the deep whirring of the moving elevator. 

You looked ahead avoiding eye contact with Declan. The thought of sleeping next to him suddenly making your chest warm, and you couldn’t tell if it was out of anger or excitement. No– it couldn’t be excitement, you hated him. Well hate was a big word to describe the feeling you had toward Declan. It was more indifference with a hint of aggravation for the way he thought he was better than everyone else. He was always riding around the office on his high horse, so smug and reserved in his own little world detached from the rest of you, unless he needed something or wanted to overstep.

It was always about what Declan wanted and he never cared to interact with anyone who didn’t serve a purpose for whatever project he was working on.

He was nice, sure, but it was only ever surface level. He was all work and no play and, in this moment, the most stubborn man you had ever met. So why on earth did you have butterflies in your stomach at the thought of sharing a bed with him.

Maybe it was his thick accent, the one you noticed the first time he said hello to you months back. Or possibly, it was the way his hair was all messy from running his frustrated hands through it over and over again in the hotel lobby. No, it was probably because you hadn’t had sex in god knows how long, and the idea of sleeping next to a perfectly handsome man had you just a little worked up.

But this wasn’t just any man, it was your coworker. It was Declan O’Hara who was nothing but professional and arrogant. Not to mention he was married, so there was no way in hell anything would happen between the two of you, not that you wanted it to.

The elevator doors opened once again and the two of you were stepping off onto the fifth floor. This time you were following his lead. Of course he wanted to be the one in charge– shocking. 

“I’ll call down and see if there’s someone else, I can talk to.” Declan was saying from ahead of you leading the charge down the long hallway. 

“Declan it’s really okay, I don’t think it’ll kill us to be in the same room for a night.” You were laughing off his annoyance, but you’d be lying if you said his persistence wasn’t beginning to drive you bat-shit crazy. 

With that you were at the door to your room, Declan fidgeting with the key only to swing the door open and pace inside. You were hardly even through the entryway by the time he was calling down to the front desk. 

After two separate conversations that both ended in the same response and nearly an hour of huffing and puffing, Declan gave up.

You were laying on the fully made bed just listening to him rant when he finally came to terms with the reality of your situation. 

“I need a drink.” Was the last thing he grumbled out before trapsing out of the room and to the bar downstairs. 

Such a diva, you thought as you stared at the ceiling and listened to the door slam shut. But you also thought about how hot he looked when he was angrily pacing around the room. The way his eyebrows knit together in frustration and how his voice dropped an octave in annoyance. What the fuck was wrong with you? It was getting late, maybe you were just tired and in the beginning stages of a sleep deprived delusion. You gave in to your exhaustion, changing into comfortable clothes and crawling into the only bed in your shared hotel room.

Meanwhile, Declan was down in the lobby nursing a glass of bourbon.

If he were being honest with himself he needed a distraction. 

He had been so angry about the room situation earlier that he hadn’t even let himself think about the fact that he was going to sleep next to you. But then he was walking the floors of the shared room, fuming about the whole situation and you were just sprawled out on the queen size mattress with your eyes on him, listening. You were carefully paying attention as he spewed curses and complained about the woman at the front desk for the hundredth time in an hour. You didn’t even look annoyed. You were simply listening. It was unsettling and even a bit thoughtful the way you just laid there letting his angry words fill your ears without a single response or objection. Relaxed on your back with your head turned to face him as he paced the room, he couldn’t help the subtle drift of his eyes on your body. Your shirt had come untucked and was bunched at your waist exposing your midriff and Declan was staring, his eyes wandered to the skin of your stomach as he talked. It looked so soft- you looked so soft, all spread out on the bed like that. He quickly realized his gaze was raking over your body and he snapped back to reality, deciding to get a drink to clear his mind and prepare him for the night ahead. 

Now he was taking a small sip from the same glass of bourbon that he’d been working on since he sat down at the bar. Each sip of his drink only making him think more about you on that damn bed. The bed he would inevitably be laying in, right next to you. Maybe he should sleep on the floor.

He gave up hope that the alcohol would help with the problem at hand and downed the rest of his drink in one swig, standing from his chair and trudging toward the elevators. 

Once he was back inside your hotel room, Declan noticed your body underneath the covers of the bed, sound asleep by the looks of it. He searched through his things to find a change of clothes before walking to the bathroom, silently thankful that you left the lamp on in the corner of the room to illuminate his steps. Of course you would make sure to leave a light on for him- Jesus, did you always have to be so considerate? 

On his way back from changing clothes, he tried not to let himself think about how weird it was– seconds away from lying next to your sleeping body. Someone he barely knew and didn’t even like. 

“I figured you might try to spend the night in the lobby”

Your quiet voice was finding him as he made himself comfortable on his side of the bed, as far away from you as possible. He was surprised to hear you were awake, it somehow made everything feel even more awkward than before.

“Thought about it but I don’t know if I’d be able to get comfortable on the shitty barstools they’ve got down there.” His voice was stoic, barely a hint of humor in it despite the sarcasm of his words. 

“It wouldn’t kill you to have a little fun you know. To smile or tell a joke every once and a while?” 

You were talking at the wall. Your bodies were facing away from each other, at least two feet of empty space between your backs. 

“That was a joke.”

“Jesus you’re so literal.”

You sounded annoyed. Declan had never heard such a cruel tone in your voice before. It was a far cry from your usual kind attitude.

“Sorry we can’t all be little rays of sunshine.” He was mumbling into his pillow, unsure if you could even hear him.

“I’d rather be a ray of sunshine than a grumpy, arrogant, asshole.”

Declan was stunned into silence. 

“Sorry that was mean.” You were too polite to insult him without an immediate apology.

“Again with the apologies. Here I was thinking you had finally grown a backbone.” 

You sat straight up at his words, bringing the comforter with you causing Declan to roll over at the loss of warmth.

“What the fuck is your problem?” That was the second curse word to leave your mouth that day, must be a new personal record, Declan thought.

“My problem? My problem is having to spend my entire day with someone so invested in what other’s think of her that she can’t even have a personality of her own.”

It sounded so harsh as it rolled off Declan’s tongue, but the day was catching up to him and he was beyond pissed, he had to take it out on someone, and your presence was all too convenient.  

“Yeah and my idea of fun is listening to you bitch about not getting your way all day.” 

Third curse word, you must be going for an Olympic medal.  

“I mean really Declan, the sooner you realize the world doesn’t revolve around you the happier you’ll be.” You were laying back down, your head meeting the pillow with a muffled thud as you looked up at the ceiling. 

“I’ve never met someone with such a gigantic stick up their ass.” 

Your words were left floating in the air between you. You were beginning to feel bad for being so rude, but you had finally had enough of his negative attitude, and you didn’t feel like playing nice anymore. The silence ringing in the room was deafening and you feared the two of you might not speak another word to each other for the remainder of the trip.

And then Declan was chuckling. A real, genuine sound of amusement.

“God you’re right, I’m a miserable fuckin’ bastard aren’t I?” 

He was staring at the ceiling alongside you mumbling something about the stick up his ass under his breath as he laughed.

He seemed tickled by your insult, but you couldn’t help but feel bad for the guy. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t overheard all the gossip about his wife supposedly leaving him for another man. Not to mention how Tony Baddingham was always using Declan to fulfil his own personal vendettas. It was all just sad. No wonder he seemed so angry all the time. The poor guy needed a break, and instead you were just adding to his despair. 

After his soft laughter died down and the room was once again filled with silence you decided to speak up; putting your bright attitude that Declan despised so much to good use.

“Not all the time.” You were correcting his previous statement. The one about being a miserable bastard.  

You weren’t lying. There were times you found Declan charming– endearing even. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t found yourself glancing over at him in meetings to see the way he always listened so intently to Daysee when no one else did. Or the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed at one of Seb’s many dumb jokes. Come to think of it, maybe he wasn’t as self-absorbed as you had painted him out to be. 

“No?”

He was turning his head in your direction. His dark curls contrasted with the cotton pillowcase they rested on. You were staring into his eyes; they were surprisingly kind. It suddenly felt so intimate, lying in bed next to him. 

“Sometimes you get this goofy little smile on your face.”

As if on cue he unknowingly gave you the exact grin you were thinking of. You smiled back at him, the two of you facing each other in the dark. The light of the moon shining through the sheer window curtains was just bright enough for you to appreciate the gentle curve of his lips. 

“I can be mean you know.”

After allowing yourself to see the good in Declan, you wanted him to know he was just as wrong in his assumptions of you. Afterall, you did just curse at him three times. 

“Oh yeah?”

He was challenging you with a raise of his eyebrow. 

“Prove it.” He was still smiling at you from his side of the bed, his once silly grin now an enticing smirk. 

“Tell me what else you hate about me.”

His voice was like velvet in your ears, wrapping around your mind and tying your inhibitions back with a neat little bow.  

“You think you’re better than everyone else.” Your delivery was confident as you hit him with another insult.

“Is that right?”

He was slowly trailing his hand up the empty space between you, bringing it to rest gently on your face before tracing your jaw with his fingertips.

You were frozen under his touch, almost ashamed at how such a simple gesture had your heart racing. You were hungry for someone’s touch, anyone’s touch, and right now, Declan’s touch.  

“What else angel?” 

He was watching his own hand as his fingers drew lightly down the curve of your neck. The pet name fell so easily from his lips that you were convinced he’d thought about this before; about calling you sweet names with his hands on you.

“You always seem so unimpressed by everything.” You were listing off another of the many things that annoyed you about Declan, but you had to try your best to sound composed. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he had you falling apart under his touch. 

“Nothing is ever good enough for you.” 

“Nothing? I don’t know about that.”  

He was closing the space between you replacing the touch of his hand on your neck with his lips and you couldn��t keep a quiet gasp from slipping from your mouth. 

“Your company seems to meet my needs quite nicely at the moment. I’d say more than enough.”  The movement of his lips against your neck as he spoke sent a pleasant chill down your spine. 

Declan had no idea what possessed him to cross such a prominent line, perhaps it was the proximity of your scarcely clothed body, or the way he could feel the heat radiating from you underneath the shared blanket, or maybe it was the way you opposed him; after all, he would never turn down a friendly competition. 

He thought about his current relationship with his wife who claimed he paid no attention to her, while in fact she was the one paying no attention to him– running off to sleep with his best friend and shamelessly flirting with other men in his own home. He had been so loyal for so long, catering to her every whim and it did absolutely nothing to mend their broken connection. She kept him at her disposal, on a leash like a dog, and he had grown tired of it. She didn’t love him, not really– not anymore.

So why was he trying so hard to make her stay when he knew she wanted to leave; trying so hard to please her when he knew it was an impossible task. He had held onto her for dear life with the crippling fear that no one else could possibly want to be with him, yet here you were preening under his touch and whining at the feeling of his lips on your neck. 

All he knew in this moment was that he needed to hear more of how much you wanted him. He kissed down your jaw, savoring the sweet little sounds you made as his lips connected with the warmth of your skin. 

“Keep going love. What else?” 

He was encouraging your harsh comments as his hand slid to the waistband of your shorts, his words humming into your skin. 

“You curse like a sailor.” That one made Declan chuckle into the crook of your neck. Such a harmless insult, fitting for the innocent lips speaking it. 

He was moving his body to hover over yours, your back now flat against the mattress. 

“Oh, so you don’t like my foul mouth, that it?” 

His voice was laced with ulterior motives as he continued placing kisses on your neck trailing them lower one by one until he was sliding his entire body down your torso, dragging the comforter to the foot of the bed as he moved. He pushed up your shirt ever so slightly placing one gentle kiss just above the waistband of your shorts looking up at you with a devilish grin. 

“Maybe I can change that.” 

He didn’t even bother taking off your pants, he just pulled your shorts and underwear right to the side in one swift movement and placed a hot wet kiss straight to the bundle of nerves at your center.

Another shocked gasp was leaving your lips at the sight of Declan between your legs. He was kissing and sucking on your clit, doing things with his mouth that you hadn’t felt in a very long time– or perhaps ever. You were trying to keep the moans from spilling from your mouth, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how good he was making you feel. 

Declan could feel it though, the way your body was tensing up and the sighs of relief that you were so desperately trying to hide. It only surged him on more, causing him to lap at your core in a way that he knew would have you losing your control.

The second you felt his tongue flat and heavy dragging through your folds, you were sending a hand down to thread through his curls. You were holding onto his hair in an attempt to gain some sort of stability, afraid that you might lose yourself in the pleasure coursing through your veins. 

You could feel your release spiraling closer all from the work of Declan’s tongue when it was all suddenly gone. The feeling of your core tightening, the warm sensation building in your chest, Declan’s mouth on your cunt; all of it gone in an instant. 

He was crawling back up to assume his position perched above you.

“How you feelin’ about my dirty mouth now angel?” His voice was so hushed and deep you thought you might drown in its bottomless allure. 

The familiar feeling of frustration for the man above you was clouding your mind as you sat up pushing him to his back. The sudden switch in positions gave you a control you’d always longed to have over Declan. 

“Like I said earlier,” 

You took this new opportunity of power to straddle his waist, running your hands over his chest. 

“Always so arrogant.” 

Your whisper held a sultry twist of innocence, and it had Declan stirring from underneath your body.

You decided to give Declan a taste of his own medicine and followed down his body with gentle kisses, mocking what his lips had done to you just moments ago. You were hooking your fingers in the waistband of his pants allowing him to lift his hips to assist you in undressing him. You were shoving them off and settling in between his legs, lowering your head to meet his erection and placing a sweet kiss to the tip of his length before taking him into your mouth.

The groan he let out at your actions was so guttural you couldn’t help but take him deeper into your throat. 

“Fuck- not as gentle as you let on, huh angel?”

He was practically growling as he caught a glimpse of you staring up at him. Seeing you like this was so out of character, the vulgarity of it had him throwing his head back on his pillow. 

You were absolutely ruining him with your mouth, his panting breath was like music to your ears. It was so satisfying having him like this. You were working deliberately with your tongue to coax more moans from the man before you, treating his pleasure like a challenge that you were determined to conquer. 

“Christ- that sweet little mouth of yours.” He was mumbling between moans and it had you humming onto his cock. 

You were ready to combust from the taste of dominance as you took your mouth off him, a small sigh escaping his lips.

“Thought you didn’t like how sweet my mouth was?” Your voice was taunting as you moved back to sit over his lap, your legs on either side of his hips. 

“Keep talking to me like that, and you might just convert me.”

He was eyeing you, the warm embrace of your cunt just one thrust away from his throbbing cock. 

In an instant you were easily sinking down onto him, already soaked from having his mouth on you. 

“Fuck darlin’.” His voice was a low snarl as he grabbed onto your hips pulling you down onto him until his cock was fully sheathed within you. 

You could feel his fingertips digging into your side. With your hands splayed out on his chest, you steadied yourself. Feeling the stretch of him as he filled you completely. You needed to move, needed the friction of him pushing into you, but his hands were holding onto you hard keeping you from rocking your hips against him.

“Feels good doesn’t it angel?” 

You were moaning out a muffled “mhmm” to his question but you were nearly shaking with anticipation as you waited for his grip to ease up so you could move. 

“You wanted this huh?” Another question was coming from his mouth.

“Didn’t complain about the one bed thing because you wanted to fuck me.”

You had no idea how he was carrying on a conversation all nonchalant like his dick wasn’t buried deep inside of you right now. 

“Probably been thinkin’ about it for a while now.” 

His voice was deep and on edge as he accused you of having dirty thoughts about him. Always so cocky, he couldn’t help but tease you in such a vulnerable position. 

“In your dreams O’Hara.” You fought back from on top of him, your voice only wavering slightly from the pleasure of your current state. 

He wasn’t expecting you to be such a smartass. He lifted you with the grip he had on your hips and pushed you back onto the bed, staying inside of you as he maneuvered your bodies. 

“What was that?” He was asking with an edge of annoyance in his voice. 

You couldn’t repeat yourself; couldn’t even think straight due to the sweet gratification of finally feeling him moving inside of you. Declan was thrusting into you at a slow pace, but he was driving deep with every movement.

“Cute that you thought I’d let you be in charge.” He was almost chuckling above you, but you could hear the words faltering at his own pleasure. 

“Now be the sweet little thing we both know you are and take it like a good girl.” His voice was breaking with grunts and groans as he pushed deeper into you with each thrust. 

You really didn’t care if his words were degrading, you would let him win this battle if it meant he’d keep fucking you like this. 

Your fingers were reaching up to intertwine in his hair, clutching and pulling at his dark locks and earning a deep moan from the man above you. His hips were snapping into you at a delicious pace and your hands were losing their grip in his hair only to slide down his back, leaving marks in their wake.

The sound of him mercilessly plunging into you was masked by the breathy noises falling from his lips. The sounds he was making were all the proof you needed to know he wanted this just as badly as you did. Both of you had been so desperate to be touched, to be appreciated, to finally feel some sort of release; the growing tension between you acted as a catalyst for your grand undoing. 

You were so wound-up, your release just within reach as Declan continued to hit a spot that had you whimpering out his name. 

“Fuck- so good.” His mumbles were nearly incoherent as he kept a quick pace against your body. 

“Gonna cum for me? I can feel ya sweetheart.” 

All of the endearing nicknames he was giving you were starting to add to the fuel of your pending relief. Maybe you had wanted this all along– maybe you longed to have Declan calling you sweet little names as he fucked his frustrations out on you. Everything about the current situation had your toes curling and your body tensing. 

“So tight baby.” His head was falling to the nape of your neck, sucking and kissing as he mumbled sweet nothings into your skin. 

He kept going and you were whining out in pleasure as you let the pressure building within you disperse, your release crashing onto you. Declan hardly acknowledged your orgasm, he just continued thrusting into you even harder than before.

You were squeezing and clenching around him as he fucked you through your orgasm and the feeling of it had him losing his mind. 

“God, I can’t take it anymore.” He was groaning into your neck as he drove into you at an insane pace. 

“Feel so fuckin’ good around me like that angel.” 

The feeling of him sliding in and out of you had you biting your lip from pure overstimulation. His words were so breathless and drawn out; just mumbles coming from a man on the edge of ecstasy, but they were turning you on in a way you couldn’t even understand. So you dug your nails ever so slightly into his shoulder blades bringing his body closer to yours, your chests meeting and heaving against one another. 

“Gonna cum sweetheart.” He was panting out a warning of his release, but you didn’t let him pull away, instead you pushed him further into you, signaling your need to have him finish deep inside of you. 

That’s what did him in; you grabbing at him, begging him to cum inside of you with the pull of his body against yours. Fuck it was hot. He was coming undone in seconds. The rush of his orgasm causing the filthiest profanities and whimpers to tumble out of his mouth. He was driving deep into you with each twitch of his cock, filling you with his warmth. 

“didn’t realize you’d be so good in bed.” you were smirking underneath his body, now lazily collapsed on top of you.

“must’ve felt good getting all of your pent-up frustration out.” Patting him condescendingly on the back, your sarcastic words flowed out as a breathless whisper.

Wearing an entertained expression, Declan Shifted his weight just enough to glance at you with an eyebrow raised.

“And I’m sure you enjoyed getting to let loose for once.” Returning your sarcasm with a jab of his own, he replied.

“Probably good for you to be a little bad sometimes.”

He was copying your demeaning gesture and patting you gently on the head, convinced that he had won this round.

my masterlist

[moon-ayyye]

Hi just got back from stalking your page. I love your takes on Jason! Do you have any thoughts about Jason and Damian’s relationship, like if they met in the League of Assassins or something? I really haven’t read much comics but I feel like their dynamic would be interesting

Thank you!

As for Jason and Damien, I like it when they have a good relationship from the League of Assassins, it's a guilty pleasure of mine when they're really tight, but that's not the case in canon since Jason is supposed to be 'bad'. They really don't like each other, and it's funny as hell

Of course, they have their moments, but so do Cass and Jason, and I wouldn't say they like each other at all. I still love a good Jaycass dynamic because they're my faves, guilty pleasures and all that, but it's simply unrealistic.

I think the main reason Damian hates Jason is because Bruce does. Or at least acts like it. Because think about it: Jason does what Damian was raised to do, kill their enemies and not show mercy, but it makes his father angry, and Damian's idolisation of his father is the most integral part of his character. I swear there was a panel where Damian said it's fine if he didn't exist if Bruce's parents didn't die because he wants Bruce to be happy.

This level of unhealthy idolisation means that nothing holds more weight than Bruce's word. At least he's kinda breaking the mould in recent comics, with him volunteering at the hospital.

Back to his relationship with Jason, though. Damian internalises that Jason is what he would be like with his father should he go back to the ways of the league, the way which he was raised, and that would cause him to hate Jason due to projection. If DC pushes the whole batfam thing with Jason again, I'd imagine they would be pretty close, since they've both been through a lot, and have a lot in common, but they'll probably always be antagonistic.

In short, these bitches MESSY

[kkink]

so i have this one headcanon: mc goes to a party to forget the crush on jin, and meets haku. he offers to help.

_______________________________________

your fingers are already damp around the neck of another sweating bottle when you realize how much you've been drinking. the burn is welcome, smoothing out the rough edges of your thoughts, dulling that old, familiar ache in your chest. you don’t want to think about jin. don’t want to think about the way his voice had sounded - so flat, so unmoved. like it hadn’t cost him anything. you knock back another sip.

a laugh cuts through the noise, sharp and easy. you know that laugh. turn your head and see him - haku, lounging near the bar, one arm draped over the back of a chair, the other nursing a half-empty glass. his uniform jacket is missing, sleeves rolled up like he doesn’t have a care in the world, the veins in his forearms flexing. he catches you looking. grins.

“thought you were allergic to this kind of scene,” he says as you drift closer, half-shouting over the fifteen other ongoing conversations. “what changed?”

your tongue is also loose from the alcohol, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing. that you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for jin. so you just lift your drink and nod your head, a non-answer. haku just looks at you like he understood. (he does.)

“so you got an L from the ice king, huh?”

the words shouldn’t sting as much as they do. you shrug, eyes dropping to the floor.

“that’s a shame,” haku continues, and there’s something almost genuine in his voice. but then—“stop making that pathetic face, though. you look like a kicked dog. don’t tell me you’re still in love with that idiot?”

haku watches you for a moment, then leans in, close enough that you can smell the faint trace of coconut and vodka on his breath.

“let’s help you get over him then. should be easy.” his voice dips, playful, but not unserious.

you tilt your head, eyes narrowing skeptically. “how?”

he smirks. “how about you go out with me? we can be friends, but you can kiss me. do other things. distract yourself. what do you think?”

his eyes glint under the shifting lights, the weight of the bassline pressing between them. something in his voice half a joke, half not.

you blink.

and then you laugh.

because it’s haku. haku, who flirts like it’s breathing, who’s probably said some version of this line at least twenty times tonight alone. haku, who once told a spirit she was the most beautiful ghost he’d ever seen before exorcising her five minutes later.

you shake your head, amusement curling at the edges of your lips. “actually, that sounds like a great idea,” you say, matching his tone, matching his game. then you tip your chin up, eyes glinting under the shifting lights. “should we start now?”

his smirk stretches, lazy, knowing. he doesn’t answer right away—just watches you like he’s waiting for something. maybe for you to break first, to laugh it off, to take it back. but you don’t. and suddenly, the air between you feels different. thicker. heavier.

haku tilts his head, gaze dipping briefly to your lips before flicking back up. and then, he grins like he’s won something.

“you’re dangerous when you drink, huh?”

you hum, feigning innocence. “i have no idea what you mean.”

he chuckles, tipping his glass against yours in a slow, deliberate clink.

“alright then,” he says, like he’s accepting a challenge. “let’s see where this goes.”

the heat of the party presses in from all sides, but suddenly, it feels like the only real thing in the room is the space between you and haku. the crowd is still moving, the music is still pounding, people are still drinking and laughing and existing around you—but it all feels a little distant now, like background noise to whatever this is.

his eyes don’t leave yours, that lazy grin still playing on his lips, like he’s waiting to see if you’ll flinch. if you’ll break first. you don’t.

you take another sip of your drink, the alcohol humming in your veins, making everything feel a little looser, a little easier.

“so,” he says, tipping his glass back, swallowing the last of whatever was inside. “if we’re starting now, what’s the move?”

you scoff, rolling your eyes. “you’re the one who made the offer, figure it out.”

he exhales a short laugh, then tilts his head, considering. the dim, shifting lights cast sharp lines over his face, catching the faint sheen of sweat at his temple. you can tell he’s enjoying this—this little back-and-forth, this game—but there’s something else under it, something you can’t quite place.

then, without warning, he leans in.

______________________________________________________

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