#look mah i write too!

[demonsfate]

do y'all ever have to block the user in the tumblr radar sometimes? not even because you didn't like their content or anything but because sometimes you're trying to write a depressing drabble and it's extremely hard to do when sexy spock is staring at you

[cookinary]

Buddy doodles cuz he's been on my mind lately

[corvidcrossbow]

~•♡•~ I Like It Long

➳ Summary: While out on a run, you and Michonne start lightly teasing Daryl for having his hair grown out. But there's a hidden reason as to why he won't cut it. (Daryl x Fem!Reader)

➳ Setting: Alexandria, post Savior war

➳ Word count: 1.4k

➳ C/W: Just smut n hair pulling

➳ A/N: This spawned from me writing the context plot of another fic and I was like… wait (And thank yall for the attention on that Mother's Day post??? Yall are so sweet 😭🫶)

My hair is really similar to Daryl's when it's partially or almost dry and it's actually my favorite thing about myself like xbsosjdjdneisnsiasjebeiisjabajissn

You loudly banged your forearm against the glass door of a long abandoned drug store, not hearing any noise inside. Vines and weeds had grown through cracks in the concrete, winding up the sides of the building.

“Sounds pretty clear,” You shrugged, holstering your bow and opting for hand-held blades as Michonne pulled open the handle. You, her, and Daryl were clearing through a nearby town while out on a supply run, opting to make quick work of the task in favor of getting home.

You three entered the building, keeping your guard up in case of any straggling walkers that weren't roused by the initial attempts to lure them towards you. The interior wasn't large, so you could comfortably split off from each other and still be close.

“Seems mostly ransacked. Not much left,” Michonne commented, katana lowered but out in front of her. This had begun to grow repetitive and boring, energy matching the grayness of the lighting.

She took a pair of hair cutting shears off the shelf in front of her, holding them up to your gaze a few isles over. “Think he could use these?” She asked as a smile played the edges of her mouth, nodding back towards Daryl, looking for mischief. His hair had grown quite long over the course of the last two years, the tawny blond darkening into a rich brown, accompanied by a shaggy cut.

“Oh definitely. Jus’ gotta determine which onna us can hold him down long enough to cut it,” You replied with a chuckle, eyes following hers to where the archer stood at the endcap of another lane.

“Shuddup, will ya?” Daryl scoffed, shaking his head with grunt. His gaze didn't break from the advertisement in front of him, trying to ignore your antics. “Ts'fine.”

“Gotta make use of whatever supplies we find, no?” You continued your teasing, trying to hide the grin on your face at his reaction. “You were sweatin’ like a pig all summer, hair tangled all over yer face ‘n what not. When was the last time you cut it?”

“Don’ kno’, don’ care,” He grumbled, and you eyed Michonne again. It's definitely been since the prison, at least. He moved on from the stand. “Plus, winter up ‘ere's gon be colder. Will keep me warm.”

“Daryl, you're ‘bout the only one who didn't freshen up since we got to Alexandria. Don't you at least want a trim?” Michonne pestered, raising her eyebrows at him and shifting her weight to one leg. “You remember Rick's whole hobo-beard.”

“Ain't got no ‘hobo-beard’.”

“But you do look like the only ‘scissors’ you know is the recently searched on your go to porn site,” Michonne chaffed, barely able to contain herself.

Daryl froze for just a second, face flushing as his head whipped to stare back at her. And you two burst out laughing, to which his expression soured.

“Give it up, alrigh’?! Ain't nothin’ wrong with mah hair!” He snapped, accent thick with embarrassment, bowing his head slightly in an effort to obscure it. He readjusted his hold on his crossbow. “Gon shoot tha botha ya.”

“Ay, ay! Jus’ sayin’. Rick scrapped the beard and… maybe you'll finally get some play too,” She winked, followed by a lighthearted snicker.

Daryl groaned again and rolled his eyes, beginning to walk off, but caught your gaze for just a second.

It's not that he didn't want to cut his hair - he didn't care about it – but he wasn't really allowed to either way. There was one major, sexy, moaning reason he didn't cut his hair.

❥-》》—————➣

“Oh, god, Daryl! Fuck! Don't stop… god don't stop,” You cried out, hands clutching his shoulders as your nails began to dig into his flesh. His grip on your hips was bruising, keeping you steady as he pounded up into you at a relentless pace. That grip was the sole thing grounding you in the reality of the present moment.

“Ain't gon stop,” He affirmed, voice gravelly. You moaned wildly, head weakly falling to his chest with exacerbated breaths, his own heaving against your temple. He leaned closer when he could, harshly sucking at your clavicle and boobs, leaving behind a litter of hickeys and little bites that colored you in reds and purples.

The springs of the bed beneath you sounded like they were gonna fold in on themselves, headboard sporadically banging against the wall as Daryl shifted down a little to hit into you at an angle, your clit brushing against him with each thrust. Your back arched overtop of him, shoving his dick into your belly.

“Baby, please… fhuuuckkkk.” You couldn't even think, every thought consumed by the feeling of him. The way he just destroyed you like it's an art he'd mastered, tip brushing against every sweet and sensitive spot inside you, walls desperately trying to cling on, balls hitting up against you, clit grinding on him, slickness coating his pelvis and your inner thighs, his clutch on you just so fucking strong.

You pulled yourself together, lifting your head to see him. His long hair was dark and dampened with sweat, matting up as it stuck to his forehead, obscuring part of his vision. But he was too focused on using you to fix it, didn't dare to remove his hands unless God willed him to.

You moved up, swiping it away, and his blue eyes instantly connected with yours, pupils blown with lust. He (somehow) sped up, starting to slam your hips up and down to meet him instead of just keeping them stationary, now just beating your cunt.

“Tha's it girl. Jus’ keep takin’ me good like tha’.”

His words made you shiver, and you partially fell forward again, nestling your face beside his and snaking an arm behind his head. Your fingers weaved through his messy hair, tangling at the scalp, then tugging harshly as another wave of pleasure ripped through you.

And he whined. There it is. His breathy gasps and grunts mingled with strained whines, and whimpers, as you pulled tighter and tighter at the roots of his locks. His face contorted, eyes nearly squeezing shut, that one vein bulging from his neck, directly on the verge of so much.

“Daryl… inside.., Dar-” You panted, cut off as everything went white and you hit your peak. Your whole body felt electrified, tensing, twitching, walls spasming, toes curling and claws clinging to his frame.

Daryl tipped over the edge almost immediately after, having just been waiting for you to cum first. He desperately pumped into you a few more times, before curving up once more and simultaneously ramming you down as he came deep in you, the warmth of his release spreading through your core, and he threw his head back with ragged breaths.

You were both left a sweaty mess, gasping for oxygen, feeling full and satisfied. Your muscles couldn't keep you up, and you collapsed onto him, loosening your hold at his scalp, his hold on your hips doing the same.

He recovered a bit quicker than you, bringing a hand up and brushing your own messy hair away the second he had the energy to do so.

“Ya alrigh’, sunshine?” He asked between hitches, hoping he hadn't been too rough. He soothingly rubbed his palm over the curve of your body where bruises were sure to form.

You nodded faintly, moving your head so you could breathe better, and you could feel him relax beneath you from the reassurance. He held you tenderly for a while, giving you time to regain your composure. Your eyes were closed in bliss. Few things beat the feeling of Daryl under you, rising and falling with his torso, hearing his low humming as he steadied himself – his softening cock still buried deep inside you, cum ever so surely beginning to dribble down.

You lazily remained in his arms, not wanting to deal with getting up, or the shower you two definitely needed. You took a strand of his hair, affectionately curling it around your finger like a tendril, then letting it go and repeating.

“Ya actually want me tah cut ma hair?” He eventually asked, thinking back to your light mocking from earlier, how you'd laughed as Michonne layered it on. It didn't matter much to him, he'd do whatever pleased you.

“Fuck no. Was just messin’ with you, Dixon,” You replied, kissing the skin of his collarbone right below you, and moving up to find his lips. “You know I like it long.”

The long hair suited him, he looked good with it. You loved to wash and play with it, brush and braid it while he laid in your lap. But mainly, it was easy to grab at, pull on – and close to nothing in existence sounded better than those whines and whimpers every time you did so.

©corvidcrossbow 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified or adapted to other platforms. My work may be translated only if asked and with proof of given consent.

[revelboo]

Man I was just binging on all you writing, barking and running up the walls over it, thinking about how much I hoped ya would do TFA OP and then I refresh and THERE IS MAH BOI?!?!? To the person that sent that ask BLESS YOU AND BLESS YOU FOR *ALL* THE WRITING IM LIVING?!?!?!? IS THIS HEAVEN???? MAYBE!

🤣 I loved TFA when it originally aired, but tend to forget it sometimes

So Hobby Lobby has their model kits 40% off and carry FlameToys in store…

Broken Heart Pt 2

TFA Optimus x Reader

• Weight straining his joints, he can’t move as he tries to keep on his hands and knees, frame curled over the small shape under him. Doesn’t dare try to until he hears Blitzwing fly away and he thanks Primus the triple changer didn’t bother to check to make sure he’d been destroyed, too insane to stay focused on the task. Aware that you’re lying under him, but unmoving now.That even though he’d taken the brunt of the impact, it might have been too much for you and he’s afraid to look too closely at you. To see that he failed and you won’t survive.

• Feeling bruised, you lift your head and can’t believe the big robot is using his body to shield yours. That he’d tried to protect you. And his denta are bared, like he’s in pain as he keeps the rubble off you, his arms trembling. Shifting under him, he makes a noise. “Are you okay? Can you move?” He asks, deep voice strained. “I can’t hold this much longer.” And you realize he’s asking you to save yourself. To abandon him and get to safety.

• Knows Bulkhead is enroute, but not how far out the other Autobot is. Arms already shaking as he tries to keep his elbow joints from buckling. And you’re not budging, too hurt to escape? “What can I do to help?” Looking down he can see your dusty face staring back at him. Terrified, but determined. Making him think of Sari, so small and so stubborn. Venting roughly, he forces a smile. Pretends it’s okay.

• “Get clear. I can try to shift it,” he says, those shockingly blue optics holding your eyes. Exhaling, you crawl out between his arms and tense watching him try to shift the massive chunks of concrete, to get them to slide sideways off of him. One of his arms buckling and he groans, disappearing for a moment as your heart stops. Then the rubble is shifting as he struggles to move it making you realize how incredibly strong he really is. Making you wonder again why he’d bothered to try and save you. Amazed that he’d even noticed you on the overpass.

• Slowly, painfully, he pushes against the rubble and then there’s little hands pulling at the smaller pieces. Trying to help him even though he’d told you to get clear. Can’t believe you’re trying to help him instead of running. It’s a relief when Bulkhead arrives, lending his own hands to digging him out. Head bowed, damaged but alive he accepts Bulkhead’s hand and lets the other bot pull him to his feet. “Optimus, you okay?” Bulkhead asks, glancing down at you and he follows Bulkhead’s stare. “Yeah,” he says, distracted. Your dirt streaked face upturned, jacket torn, and knee bleeding as you wrap your arms around yourself. Trembling now that the danger is over. Cold and hurt. It’s what makes him take a knee, a hand outstretched. “Want to come with us? Get cleaned up?” He offers and you hesitate before cautiously touching a hand to his servo.

Previous

[shixcherie]

Gonna Make You Rock Hard | Jeong Yunho ☆

~ ~ call me chérie ☆

Navigation | Kinktober List

☆ Day 30: Mask Kink (Connected with Rum To My Whiskey (iykyk!😉))

↬ [ Synopsis ] : Under dim lights and the cover of a masquerade party, you’re alone with Yunho, the man you’ve been craving all night, with only one rule: the mask stays on. What starts as a playful bet with Wooyoung soon turns into a sultry, forbidden encounter behind closed doors, where every whispered word and heated touch makes the stakes feel deliciously higher.

☆Word count : 1.8k ☆Genre : Smut, no plot just drunk and fun vibes, Non-idol Au. ☆Pairing : Stranger in the party! Yunho x F.Reader

☆ ☆ ☆WARNINGS : mdni!, reader’s craving for Yunho builds all evening, playful eye flirting, alcohol-fueled tension, mask kink, mild voyeurism, size kink (it’s Yunho, after all), dom/sub undertones, messy and intense makeout sess, fingering (fem receiving), biting kink, praise (pet names like babygirl, baby, cutie), unprotected sex (remember to wrap it, buddies), overstimulation, and filthy talk.

A/N NOTE : With this fic ma chéries, we conclude Kinktober 2024🏆. Thank you for sticking with me till the end. I appreciate and love each and every one of you, and in whichever way you supported this rookie writer, THANK YOU SOO FUCKING MUCH! 💖😘🤗

I love ATEEZ (Atiny for life 💖🏴‍☠️), and writing these fics about them made me appreciate the art they create even more🤩. I also explored new genres and learned that I can write various genres and scenarios (they all did not turn out perfect, but some did and to me what really matters is that I actually gave it a try).

I will be on a short break and then will come back with more awesome stuff for y’all. Till then, enjoy these 30 fics (my first writing work…ahhhhh…this feels surreal). Hope u miss me🥺...cuz I sure as hell will😤. Thank u again for giving my work a chance! Adios! 👋👋

P.S.: My DMs and requests are open now..so feel free to send me any particular requests you guys have or any msgs you wanna send me. I will be gone for now but will be responding to comments & dms. Adios mah loves...Byeeeee.

Before stepping into that dimly lit room with Yunho, you remembered exactly how you had ended up there.

It had started with Wooyoung and his unpredictable games, pushing you to see just how far you would go to prove a point.

“If you’re as bold as you say, then show it,” he had dared, a smirk dancing on his lips as he nudged his chin toward Yunho, the man you had been eyeing all night at the masquerade-themed party at Club Havana. “Hook up with him and prove me right. But here’s the catch,” he added, his grin widened mischievously. “The mask stays on the entire time.”

The cocktails had been flowing freely, and Yunho had looked like an absolute snack, leaving you more than a little tipsy and far too eager to rise to the challenge. The thrill of proving Wooyoung wrong and maybe even showing him just how unpredictable you could be had landed you here, flirting with Yunho before you could even give it a second thought.

The attraction had been instant, his charming smile and intense gaze igniting a spark in you that only grew stronger with each passing moment.

So here you were, leading Yunho through the crowd and away from the party's noise. A mix of drunk excitement from Havana’s finest shots and the thrill of winning the bet coursed through your veins.

The mask you had worn only added to the excitement as you both made your way into the room.

The deep red walls of the room had welcomed you under the dim lights, shadows casting an intimate glow that served as an invitation for the moments about to unfold. As you closed the door, the sounds from the club outside became muffled, leaving you and Yunho in silence. The scent of leather and faint traces of cologne filled your senses, the air in the room growing thicker with every passing second.

You faced him, your masked gaze teasing. His eyes searched yours, curiosity slowly turning into hunger. As you took a step closer, your fingers slid up his chest, moving slowly as you felt the warmth of his skin through his shirt. You could tell it was driving him crazy, not seeing all of you, your eyes just peeking through the mask. He caught your hand, his grip warm and firm, his fingers tracing slow circles against your wrist.

“Are you always this mysterious ?” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, his eyes locked on yours with a delicious mixture of intrigue and excitement.

You gave a sly smile, tilting your head just enough for the light to catch your lips. “Only for the right kind of company,” you replied, your voice filled with playful flirtation.

A slow grin spread across his face as he stepped closer, closing the distance between you. His hand found your waist, his fingers firm as he pulled you against him. His gaze flickered to your lips, torn between playing the game or surrendering to it. His chest rose and fell, his breath quickening as his eyes tried to memorize every inch of what the mask hid.

You reached up, your fingertips brushing his jaw, soft and deliberate. Leaning in, your lips hovered near his ear. “Want to see what’s behind the mask?” you murmured, your breath warm against his skin.

His chuckle was low and rich, his other hand sliding to the back of your neck, his thumb grazing your collarbone. “Maybe not,” he teased, his lips brushing your cheek. “I think I like the mystery. It keeps things… thrilling.”

You smirked, leaning into his touch, your hands gliding to his shoulders. The mask and the tequila shots you had taken fueled your boldness as you pressed closer, your lips brushing his in a kiss that sparked between tender and electric. He deepened it, his hand trailing to the small of your back, pulling you tighter as if he was as captivated by the game as you were.

As seconds passed, his kisses grew hungrier, his hands exploring your curves with desperate passion. When his fingers grazed the edge of your mask, you caught his wrist, stopping him with a playful, breathless smile.

“Not yet,” you whispered, your voice soft but commanding.

His laugh was low and rough, filled with something darker. “Alright,” he murmured, pulling you closer, his hands refusing to leave your body. His fingers pressed into your hips, giving a little squeeze on your ass, which excited you even more. He had surrendered to the mystery, letting the unknown drive him wild as he lost himself in every inch of you he could reach. Everything but what was hidden behind the mask.

The mask had become part of the game, a sensual mystery like a barrier between you that fed his desire and made each touch more desperate.

His hands, once hesitant, now roamed with bold intent, tracing your curves with a hunger that matched the fire in his kiss. His lips crashed into yours, deep and demanding, pushing you back until the cool surface of the wall pressed against you, a faint contrast to the heat building between your bodies. As he surrendered to the game, his restraint slowly slipped away, leaving only the raw, electric energy that burned hotter with every touch, every breath.

His fingers slipped beneath the fabric, brushing lightly before pressing firmly, the sensation making your breath hitch. His touch grew bolder as his fingers found your core, your arousal evident.

Slowly, he slid one thick finger into you, his pace teasing at first, each movement deliberate, as if testing how far he could push you. But as your breaths quickened, he picked up speed, his fingers curling and thrusting in a rhythm that had you gripping his shoulders for support.

The pleasure built quickly, the pressure overwhelming, and when you came undone around him, your moans muffled against his neck, he didn’t stop. Instead, he added another finger, the stretch making your body arch into him. His lips grazed your neck, teeth nipping at the sensitive skin as he drove you toward another release.

Your legs trembled, your forehead resting against his shoulder as you gasped for air, the intensity leaving you weak and breathless. But Yunho wasn’t done. His hands and lips kept you tethered to him, his movements relentless as he worked to break down every barrier between you.

The mask remained, teasing him with what he couldn’t see, but he didn’t care, if he couldn’t uncover your secret, he would take everything else, leaving you trembling and completely at his mercy.

Pressed against the cold wall, the chill against your skin only made the heat between you burn hotter. You felt him move closer, his body pressing into yours. His hips ground against you with deliberate intent, letting you feel every bit of his desire. The friction sent sparks through you, each movement making your breath hitch and your body ache for more.

His hands slid down your thighs, lifting one leg effortlessly, holding you as if he had done this a hundred times. His touch was steady was strong but careful as he tugged your panties away with practiced ease, his focus completely on you.

Your breath caught when he revealed himself, and for a moment, all you could do was stare. A mix of awe and arousal overwhelmed you, your thoughts spinning with the idea of him inside you. His hand moved back to your leg, grounding you, while his hips pressed forward, his hard length teasing against your skin.

The way he moved, slow and purposeful, stoked a fire deep inside, and soft moans escaped your lips, filling the room. Your knees trembled, barely able to hold you, but his strong hands kept you steady as he lifted you into his arms.

You wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, your body instinctively clinging to his strength. His eyes met yours, dark and full of restrained hunger, his expression both commanding and tender. The mask on your face gave you a boldness you had never felt, adding a thrill to every moment. As he positioned himself, his length pressed teasingly against you, and your body arched toward him, desperate to close the unbearable gap.

When he finally pushed inside, the feeling was overwhelming, a perfect mix of fullness and heat that left you gasping. He paused just long enough for you to adjust before he started moving, slow and steady at first, every thrust sending shivers through you. His hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place as the rhythm built, each movement deeper, faster, more urgent. The intensity grew with every second, his pace losing control, his need for you taking over.

The mask stayed on, a reminder of the thrill of the moment, giving you the confidence to completely let go. Your moans grew louder, your body trembling under the pressure of his relentless pace. Stars danced before your eyes as your vision clouded, the intensity of it all consuming you. His lips brushed against your neck, his breath hot and heavy as he muttered low, broken words that sent you even closer to the edge. Every thrust felt like a claim, every move a promise, as if he knew exactly what you needed and gave it without hesitation.

It felt like you had known each other forever, your bodies fitting together perfectly, moving as one. The tension built higher and higher until finally, with one last thrust, you broke apart, the release crashing over you in waves. Your body trembled in his arms as the pleasure overwhelmed you, every nerve alive and buzzing.

Moments later, his movements grew erratic, his breathing ragged as he buried himself deeper into you, chasing his own release. With a low groan, he came undone, his grip tightening on your waist as he spilled into you, his body shuddering against yours. You held him close, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered, “It’s okay. I’m on the pill.” Your words seemed to pull him further into the moment, his tension melting into complete surrender.

Even when it was over, he didn’t let go. His hands stayed on you, holding you close as you caught your breath, your body still humming with the aftershocks. His dark eyes lingered on your face, the mask a silent reminder of the game you had played and won. No words were spoken, but the moment hung between you, heavy with the memory of something unforgettable.

As you both recovered, your breaths slowly steadied, though the air around you remained charged. His arms stayed wrapped around you, reluctant to let you go. With a soft smile, you gently slipped out of his embrace, his hands lingering on your waist as if trying to hold on to the moment.

“Will I see you again ?” he asked, his voice low, almost pleading.

Adjusting your mask, you took a step back, tilting your head playfully. “Maybe… if you’re lucky,” you purred, a teasing lilt in your voice.

Your lips curved into a smirk into a half promise, half challenge as you walked towards the door. Just before disappearing into the crowd, you paused, looking over your shoulder, your eyes locking with his one last time. “Try not to miss me too much,” you added with a wink, your tone equal parts flirtation and mischief.

The club swallowed you, leaving him standing there, still burning from your touch, his eyes fixed on the spot where you had vanished. The mystery of your face still lingered behind that mask.

Even in the shadows, you could feel his gaze following you, and you knew that tonight, you had won the game and you were unforgettable.

~ ~ Chérie ☆ signin’ off

DISCLAIMER: This is totally fictional and not a real depiction of the ATEEZ members. It's all just for fun only so please don’t take anything seriously and keep the mood light around here.

© ShixCherie.

[py-dreamer]

@furornocturna, @violetjedisylveon

hey! Remember that shadowalkers au wip a while back?

And I mean damn, like what a leap? Amirite?

(Just realized I forgot Mac's pouch, Mei, & Wukong's beads

...oops

Pls forgive me I'm a forgetful klutz and am lazy)

Ok so well this be quite the turnabout from the last sketch um:

I included the shadows on the floor, it is called shadowalkers for a reason, and added the wee faces in them like I did for the first piece

The background was a pain in the ass and I tried a lil something something with the lighting/lens flares. Something similar to the lighting in the piece I did where they're cuddling

Now everyone might say multiply on the layers does miracles but can I just saw 'add glow' and 'glow Dodge' are my new best friends? Srsly they give that damn good zest that it needs

I had so much trouble just doing Mac's face in particular. Like the contrast between the dark scalera and light irises was too much even though I did it before and it worked then-

And like his proportions were way off even though they matched the f*cking sketch which looked fine and they didn't match up with Wukong's at all-

Then his hair looked too big and clunky like a large chunk rather than hair and cause Mk's head was blocking it, I couldn't shade correctly-

AND I WAS STARTING TO BLOODY LOOSE IT I WANTED TO PUNCH THIS LIL BI-

But then I made his head bigger and it all worked out 'u'

Here's the og sketch for comparison:

I will admit though, I am quite happy with how my art style has progressed over time and this just might be one of my best pieces.

Genuinely to any of my old marshiemallows, thanks for sticking around! And I welcome any new marshiemallows joining me on my little art adventure so here's love from a random artist on the internet who appreciates your presence to her wacky ramblings and drawings

Oh and btw, I will start to get more busy so pls relax ur expectations in terms of posting schedules (not that I really had one anyways but regardless-)

That birthday challenge was fun but man did it do a number on me

And especially cause I wanna try to focus more on writing the next chap of mah fic 'When the sun sets forever' on ao3

(Shameless plug but which you should totally check out btw, angsty monkies, time travel, Macaque bullying train, it's so much fun)

Oh! And for my fellow marshiemallows who have frequented the dreamscape a couple of times, not guaranteed and I am a wee noob with absolutely no experience in this very little chance I'll do this and it's mainly to see any interest in it so pls don't expect much-

BUT.

[romangolden68]

@scott-golden9 bro was overworking himself recently, busy writing and doing stuff and wasn't able to focus on himself and his bros... I decided to fix that.

I approached Scott while he was busy writing sum story for sumthing, I don't know but gave him one of my patented Roman Protein Shakes. I told him he looked tired and overworked and deserved 2 be rewarded for being such a good worker.

He drank the shake, gulping down all it's golden goodness, and wipes his mouth. I smirk as he kneels onto the floor... huhu, he won't know whatz comin to him! I grab his jaw gently with my thumb and pointer finger and have him tilt his head up to me. Rellllaaaaxxxx brah~ I tell him in a sing-song manner as I watch his eyes start to turn into golden spirals while he stares into my own eyes. I smirk as I feel his large muscles instantly start to relax. The knots in his muscles, the stress, the toxins, all of it was leaving his body in da form of Golden Sweat! I feel and watch his muscles turn relaxed and numb, and as a result, I can see his brain turning to straight up puddy, ready to be molded! I lean forward, letting his hypnotized eyes stare into mine as I whisper into his weak, Puddy brain:

Lift Sniff Grow Bro Lift Sniff Grow Bro

U reek U stink U leak No longer weak U reek U stink U leak No longer weak

U burp U fart U golden U gassy U burp U fart U golden U gassy

U a chav U alwayz a chav U a Golden chav Nuttin but a golden chav U a chav Alwayz a chav U a Golden Chav Nuttin but a golden chav After whispering him those sweet golden truths, I shave his blonde hair to a buzz-cut and grab mah camera before taking a photo.

Huhu, he's letting his Roman Bro think 4 him now huhu.

Anywayz! I continued to stare into his golden eyes as mah hands runned along his huge muscles, feeling that they tense up and compress when I touch them, becoming smaller yet stronger! From the bottom of his calves to his glutes to his pecs and even his forearms, all of it compresses as I dance my hands across his muscles. Unfortunately for Scott though, all of his golden sweat of worries and thoughts isnt leavin his skin.... oh well huhu So, once I feel that he is properlly changed and relaxed, I grab a golden Tracksuit made just for him, and put it on him. I snap him out of his trance

Huhuhu, Welcome Chav Scott, howz u feelin???

Oh shiz brah, I forgot to clean u da remainz of ur brainz! huhu. Keep talking to me brah while I clean u up, call me ur "bruv" and keep saying how good feeling dumb and Chav-like feels. I like hearing it brah, too bad u can barely remember ur past or even what u were working on....

Once I finished cleaning him, I took off his smelly tracksuit, much to his protest, and put a spandex muscle-tee on him.

Huhu, brah, Scott, hope u enjoy being a Chav, bc I don know how to revert u back

So to all my brahz out there...

Say Hello to da NEW AND IMPROVED CHAV-SCOTT BRUV.

[takumifujiwarastan]

"look at me, not him."

pairings: megumi fushiguro x best friend!reader contents: jealousy, sprinkle of angst, a bit suggestive, reader has a bit of traumatic past but not too many details. no established relationship (yet)!

594 words

a/n: very self indulgent bc i js wanted to write for mah boi megumi <3

he couldn't hate yuji.

he couldn't hate the fact that he was stealing your attention away from him more and more with each passing day.

that the small smiles only he could see were now becoming regular when you were around the pink haired boy.

of course, he's more than happy that you're smiling. the shell that had been enclosing you for so long was finally starting to break in the company of safe people who cared about you.

he just wished it was him who made you smile like that.

since when did he start wishing that? he couldn't remember. he couldn't count the days he's spent thinking about you. the nights he spent dreaming about you. you somehow slithered your way into his mind along with every thought that whizzed by.

it used to be just you and him. being unofficially 'adopted' by gojo a few years after he was, you'd come to know him most your whole life. he knew everything about you. he knew the background you came from. the pain you suffered. every hit you took. every time you got back up and kept going.

he missed the days of just him and you. lazy afternoons in each others' dorm rooms, spent basking in the warmth of the sun that shone through the window and talking about whatever. sleepless rainy nights that ended with you in his arms, your breathing in sync with his as the rain pattered against the glass of the window.

and the rare smiles he got to see from you whenever you were with him. him. not yuji.

and its yuji you're waiting for now, as you stand patiently at the end of the hallway, where he said he would meet you after showering and changing after training.

megumi's sharp eyes narrow at the sight of you waiting for someone other than him yet again. without even a second thought he starts padding down the wood floor of the dorm hall.

"y/n." he breathes out, stopping just a few feet from you. you look up at him, meeting his eyes that seem to carry unfamiliar emotion behind them.

"hey..." you reply softly. "you alright?" the question falls from your lips so innocently, in such a clueless matter he can't be upset that you aren't spending time with him. his eyes soften at this, then closing them with a sigh.

his fists then ball up at his sides upon hearing yuji's voice at the other end of the hall. he turns his head and shoots him a menacing look, to which the peach haired boy with widened eyes retreated back to his dorm.

you turn your head and watch as yuji goes back into his room, shutting the door hastily. "megumi, me and yuji were going to-" your irritated tone is cut off when a hand is brought up to your face, tilting your head back towards the raven haired boy as he crashes his lips into yours, a small gasp escaping your lips when your back hits the wall. his free hand is seated on your waist, gripping feverishly as he deepens the kiss.

he pulls back a few moments after, looking into your eyes with a fiery anger yet desperate longing at the same time. his hand holds your face so softly, tenderly, contrary to the emotions brewing inside him. his thumb brushing over your cheekbone so delicately, as if you were fragile as glass. you can almost hear the yearning in his voice when he breathes out;

"look at me, not him."

do u want a part 2?

[revasserium]

burn

umemiya hajime; 3,307 words; mostly fluff, tiny bit of angst, young/freshman!umemiya, pre-canon events, lapslock, no "y/n", librarian!reader, childhood friends to lovers, vague ref to ch. 152, ume is a dumbdumb

summary: "it's a pleasure to burn" - ray bradbury, fahrenheit 451

a/n: am i writing umemiya now? who knows. this takes place 2 years before wbk manga events (the first year ume&co are in boufuurin) so pls excuse the slightly ooc ume...

001. the art of war

the library is entirely your idea.

“mah… you’d have to be the one to keep track of all the books though,” umemiya says, grinning as he watches you stock the shelves, your hair twisted up into a messy bun, your arm straining to reach the top-most shelf with a bundle of paperbacks with fraying covers and broken-in spines.

“of course i would! it’s not like there’s anyone else here i’d trust with that.” you turn to fix him with a stare that is already too “librarian-like” and he laughs, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied sigh.

“okay then, consider me your first patron! gimme something to read,” umemiya says, smiling wide as you narrow your eyes. your lips twitch up at the ends — it’s a familiar movement, an unconscious gesture, but one that’s plagued his all sleepless nights and most of his endless days.

“well…” you say, drawing out the word as you slowly saunter towards him, propping your hands on your hips as you pull level with the table in front of him, “what do you want to read?”

“anything you’d wanna lend me,” he says easily.

“boo, that’s such a boring answer,” you shoot back, shifting to press your hip against the edge of the table, crossing your arms as you turn to look back at the half-erected shelves.

you don’t see the way umemiya’s eyes flicker down to the bend of your waist, or the way he licks his lips as he tracks the plush of your thigh as you move to hoist yourself onto the desk, balancing on the edge.

he swallows, clearing his throat, trying not to think about the strange, burgeoning signs of growing up pestering you both at this vital juncture (just last week, his voice had cracked so hard you’d laughed at him for a whole hour straight; and the week before that, he’d almost rammed into a telephone poll watching you jog down the flight of stairs that leads to your tiny apartment).

“then maybe reading a few books will make me not so boring, hm?”

you roll your eyes, hopping off the table to comb through the handful of books. umemiya lets out an internal sigh of relief, feeling the heat in his cheeks recede ever so slightly as you disappear behind one of the taller shelves.

“here. let’s start with this.”

you pop out from behind the shelf, lobbing a thin volume towards him; he catches it out of reflex and stares at the cover.

“the art of war…?”

you grin, all cheek and no shame, “yeah. i mean… fits, doesn’t it? aren’t you starting at boufuurin next week?” you blink before turning back to look around at the small, abandoned storage facility, tucked between a ramen shop and what used to be a dollar store. there’s half a dozen dusty shelves, a few cabinets along the walls, and even a small stepladder that touma had dug out of the back closet for you.

at fifteen, you’re probably the smartest person he knows (and the prettiest, but that’s neither here nor there); at fifteen, umemiya hajime is an iron-wrought confluence of teenage ambition with big ideas and even bigger dreams (who doesn’t have time for things like crushes or girls… really).

“yeah,” umemiya runs a finger along the cover of the little book and flips to a random page, his eyes catching on the line —

the greatest victory is that which requires no battle at all.

002. pedro reyes

three weeks later, he stumbles back with two black eyes and a matching pair of bleeding knuckles.

“that book you lent me?” he says, dropping into a chair with a groan, “kinda bullshit.”

you make a half-startled, half-annoyed noise as you hurry over, setting down an armful of magazines to lean over and look at his face.

“what the hell happened?”

umemiya winces as you reach out to wipe a trickle of blood from his cheek.

“couple of fights — tough ones, but… well, i’m still here, aren’t i?” he says, managing a lopsided grin even as you tut, hurrying away to grab a first aid kit, returning with a warm, wet cloth and a scowl on your face.

“i thought you had a plan,” you say, unable to keep the acid from your voice.

umemiya groans as you press the damp cloth to his bloodied fingers, watching as you wipe each one down, the shocking white of the towel slowly darkening until it’s stained and blotchy with red.

“yeah. i did — punch everyone out till i get to the top.”

you tsk, frown deepening even as he shifts forward to let you wipe at the wounds on his face.

“pretty sure that’s not what sun tzu suggests,” you say, dabbing some kind of cooling gel to a cut right below his eye.

“sun tzu’s never had to deal with the guys at boufuurin.”

you roll your eyes, sighing before pulling back, “there’s an article i read today —” you jerk your head back towards the stack of magazines, “about an artist in mexico.”

“yeah?”

umemiya closes his eyes and lets you do the slow, diligent work of bandaging up his knuckles, one by one.

“he took a bunch of illegal weapons the government had confiscated and melted them down — pistols, knives, shotguns — and made them into musical instruments instead.”

the quiet that follows is thick and steady as churned butter. you don’t look up, your eyes still trained on the careful task of bandaging umemiya’s fingers.

he shifts, pulling closer, his breath fanning out warm against your cheek.

“do you know how hot a fire has to be in order to melt metal?” you ask after another brief silence, finally lifting your eyes as you finish with his hands.

umemiya cocks an eyebrow, “how hot?”

“about 2,700 degrees, fahrenheit.”

umemiya whistles below his breath, “sounds hot.”

“it is. at that temperature, you can apparently force a weapon to forget that it’s a weapon, to remake it into something new — something that wasn’t made to take lives… but to give it instead.”

you wrap your fingers around his, your skin contrasted against the dark blossom of bruises.

umemiya feels his smile slash into something jagged, lopsided and sharp.

“then… i guess that’s how hot i’ll have to burn to turn this whole place around.”

003. grey’s anatomy

looking back, umemiya wonders if that’s the night he changed — the night that you’d held onto his hands as if they were something precious.

he looks up the melting point of metal and the story of the artist in mexico. he thinks about what it must feel like to turn a pistol into a flute, to be the one to teach it to hold a note instead of a bullet —

he stares down at his bandaged hands, feels the dull ache in his muscles and wonders.

once, he remembers when the pair of you were still kids, hollow and lonely and full of a childish rage at the indifferent world — how you’d laughed as he pushed you on a neighborhood swing, but cried when he knocked a guy’s front teeth our for asking where your parents were.

and a week later, he’d found you hidden under the jungle gym with a tomb of a book clutched in your hands. the air had been damp with thunder, the sky grey and electric.

you’d looked up at him with bright eyes, holding out a closed fist —

“ume! did you know that the human heart is the same size as a fist?”

he remembers crawling under the jungle gym to squeeze in beside you, elbow to elbow, hip to hip, peering at the opened book, at the page with a diagram of the human body an all it’s labeled parts.

“oh, cool.”

he’d held up his own fist then, and stared, feeling the beat of his heart reverberating through his chest. he wonders if you can hear it when you’re pressed this close; he wonders, if the sky weren’t breaking apart above you, if he’d be able to hear your heartbeats too.

“isn’t it strange?” you’d asked, leaning over to bump your fist against his.

“what’s strange?” he hadn’t pulled away; neither had you.

your hand relaxes then, fingers loosening till he can see the blood rush back into their tips, tinting them pink. you’d turned your hand and placed it over his still-closed one and squeezed.

“that… a heart and a fist are the same size but… they weren’t made to beat the same.”

004. romeo & juliet

“he loves you, y’know.”

you look up from the makeshift front desk.

tsubaki is sitting with their legs crossed on one of the tables, arms propped on either side of their hips.

“library’s not open for another few days,” you say by way of an answer.

“it’s nice,” tsubaki says, looking around, “you did a good job with it.”

“thanks.”

they hop off the table to peer down one of the aisles of books — all the shelves now labeled with your loopy handwriting, the books clustered by a loose combination of genre, authorship, and spine-coloration.

“it’ll be good for us,” tsubaki’s voice is slightly muted by the layers and layers of books, but the click of their heeled boots rings sharp against the smooth linoleum floors, “having a library — the pen being mightier than the sword, and all.”

they’re smiling when they finally come back around the last row, fingers linked behind their back.

“that’s the hope, anyway,” you say, lips pulling into a wane smile.

you glance up and your eyes catch on the bandage at the edge of tsubaki’s lips, the dark stain at the collar of their otherwise impeccable uniform.

sighing, you run a hand along a yet-unsorted stack of books, shaking your head.

“we’re too young to know anything about love,” you answer, finally.

tsubaki joins you, bending down to pick up the first book at the top of the pile, waving it in the air with a rueful grin.

“i think romeo & juliet would beg to differ.”

you bite your lips, “you know that’s a tragedy, right?”

tsubaki shrugs, “sure, but… wasn’t it beautiful while it lasted anyway?”

you don’t have an answer, and instead, tsubaki giggles, tapping the top of your head with the book.

“can i borrow this? i promise i’ll return it!”

you wave them away with a soft smile.

“that’s kind of how a library works.”

005. fight club

“how long have you been here?”

you jerk up, your entire body screaming with the movement after having been still for so long.

“ume —! you’re awake!” you nearly collapse by the hospital bedside, dropping your head into the pristine white sheets.

above you, umemiya makes a choked off sound somewhere between a cough and a laugh, his hand coming up to pat your head. you melt into the feel of him, the weight and warmth of his fingers as he treads them through your hair.

“where’s —”

“they left — all of them,” you say, lifting your head slowly, “takishii and endo and… all of them.”

umemiya frowns, his hand stilling for a second, “what do you mean?”

you shrug, pulling back till you’re curled up in the bedside seat once more, tugging your knees up into your chest.

“after the fight, they just… picked up and left.”

“so… i lost,” umemiya’s voice is soft.

you shake your head, “no.”

he frowns, “but that’s —”

“you knocked each other out at the same time — it was technically —” your voice snags in your throat as you remember the grizzly scene before you, the crimson sprays of blood, the dirt damp beneath them, their uniforms torn into dark ribbons, the rooftop howling with a savage, winter wind.

“a tie,” umemiya says in a flatlined voice, reaching up and covering his eyes with his arm.

“right.”

you clear your throat, reaching for the tall glass of water on the bedside table.

“here — drink,” you hold the water out to him. he takes it wordlessly and drains nearly the entire glass. you watch, silent, as a drop of liquid trails down his jaw and trickles into the bandages at this throat.

your eyes cut away as he grins, smacking his lips and setting the water glass down.

“ah — that feels much better!”

you’re quiet, sitting vulturine still, refusing to meet his gaze.

umemiya finally slumps back to stare at the ceiling.

“you’re mad at me.”

“i’m not.”

“we’e known each other our whole lives, i know when you’re mad —”

“i’m scared, okay?” there’s a thin, unsteady quiver to the tenor of your voice as your head snaps back up. it’s then that he notices your fingers curled into fists at your sides.

“s-scared? of what? takiishi and endo are gone — you said so your—”

“of you!”

umemiya blinks and feels the blood in his extremities going cold, and for a second, he’s not sure if he accidentally dislodged his iv drip.

the look on your face is inscrutable, anger and uncertainty, but most of all — fear. something about that look makes his stomach curdle inside him.

“i —” he tries to find something to say but nothing else comes out. there’s no excuse, no explanation. he searches you eyes for a tether, for a spark of that familiar warmth and finds none.

slowly, you soften back into the seat and turn to stare out the window.

“it’s not like i’ve never seen you fight… and i’ve never liked it but this…” you bite down on your bottom lip, “it was like… you turned into someone else. someone i didn’t recognize.”

“i’m… i’m sorry.”

you swallow, still not looking at him, your eyes flickering down to your own hands, now lying limply in your lap.

“and then i thought — what if i did this? i — i had to go and make that stupid metaphor about the metal and the melting and —”

at this, umemiya laughs, reaching out to tug you closer. the ease with which he does so startles a hiccup out of you.

“you don’t really think i went and fought like that because of an article about a dude in mexico, do you?”

you purse your lips, cheeks going blotchy with heat. umemiya reaches forward to squeeze your nose, making you jerk back.

“dummy,” he chides, grinning now from ear to ear, but his smile falters slightly as he takes your hands in his, “i’m sorry that i scared you. promise i won’t do it again.”

“hn.” you don’t make to pull away, and umemiya takes that as permission to tug you into his chest, wrapping both arms around you. he buries his face in your hair and breathes in, out, in —

“hm… you really think you have that much power over me?” umemiya asks, a wanton sort of amusement underlying his voice as he finally lets you go, if only to revel in the way your cheeks flood with color.

“shut up! i was — i was freaked out and you were unconscious and i —”

“cause you do.”

your words cut off as abruptly as a dropped call.

umemiya chuckles, scratching at the back of his head, ruffling up his already pillow-mussed hair.

“been meaning to tell you but… i figured you already knew — “ and for once, he sounds his age — young and halting and shy.

after a breath that feels like a century, you finally break into a helpless fit of laughter.

“i can’t believe it…” you say, burying your face in your hands.

“can’t… believe what?” umemiya blinks at you.

“that it took you nearly dying for you to admit that you liked me.”

“hey! in case you haven’t noticed, i’ve been kinda busy this year!”

you roll your eyes, “yeah, yeah — had to go save the world first. then you get to kiss the girl, right? end movie, roll credits.”

umemiya cocks his head, “well, i dunno about the world but definitely — wait, what did you say about kissing me?”

you crinkle your nose, “i didn’t.”

“yeah you did.”

“i did not — i was just making a general statement about cliches in superhero movies —”

“oh, so you think i’m a superhero?”

“ume! stop it — mph!”

later, umemiya would recall fondly to anyone who will listen that yeah, he does get to kiss the girl after all.

006. fahrenheit 451

“451,” you say, standing at the door of the newly minted makochi library.

it’s dark outside, and umemiya stands by your side, stretching his arms over his head with a wide yawn.

“huh?”

“451 degrees,” you say again, turning to press a small silver lighter into his hands. he stares owlishly at it before looking back at you, clearly at a loss.

“that’s how hot it has to be for paper to catch fire.”

umemiya stares.

“i was thinking,” you say, turning back to the dark, but pristine library.

“uh-oh — oof — ow!” umemiya makes a show of clutching his side as you jerk your elbow back for another blow. he dodges out of your way with a dopey grin.

you sigh, turning back to the library, “but i was thinking that… there’s gotta be a better way — an easier way, right?”

this time, he stays quiet to let you speak.

“because yeah, it’d be nice to melt all the weapons in the world and turn them all into nicer things but… there’s a better way to do things.”

“yeah? and what’s that?” umemiya turns the lighter around and around in his palm.

you turn and head for the door, locking it behind you. the moonlight washes your skin in a ghostly silver as you turn to face him.

“we rewrite the story,” you say.

umemiya flicks on the lighter and lets the fire dance between them. his breath catches on the liquid gold in your eyes.

“is… that even possible?” he asks.

you reach out a steady hand, letting the tips of your fingers barely skim over the shifting flame.

“sure it is. all of human history is just a story written by the victors. and… 451 degrees isn’t nearly as hot as 2,700.”

umemiya smiles then, letting the lid of the lighter click shut. the fire snuffs out, leaving only a thin trail of spiraling smoke behind.

“sounds a lot more reasonable, too. much less scary,” he says.

you laugh, turning towards the main street. he watches you go for a second before pocketing the lighter and making to catch up. when he levels himself with you, he reaches out to take your hand.

“fires don’t have to be scary,” you say, giving his hand a quick squeeze, “for most of human history… it’s brought people together — over a hot meal or a good story. a lot of the time… it’s the only reason we get to survive.”

umemiya pulls you in to loop his arm around your shoulder.

“hm. i like the sound of that way, way better.”

bonus:

“so… just makin’ sure — you don’t want me to burn down the new library you spent all this time setting up, right?”

“no you dumbass! it was just a metaphor.”

“oh. right — yeah, a metaphor, duh.”

[reverie-obsessingtime]

Is Jiaoqiu a Self-Annihilator?: an analysis into the Self-Annihilator condition (with Acheron and Jiaoqiu as case studies)

Soooouuuu pink fox man huh so pretty right? Sure nothing sad going on in the background..... *sobs*

This be the kind of brainrot you get as a Acheron main and Jiaoqiu haver 😮‍💨 :,)

sighs....WE ARE BACK IN THE BUILDING AGAIN!!!😭

Ok ok, enough fooling around let's get to business *rolls sleeves*. I'm gonna be using S-A for short to refer to Self-Annihilators through all this cause it's a mouthful to write.

TRIGGER WARNING: this post tackles depression and speaks of the nihilistic feelings it brings. It's not too major but if talking about stuff like this can be triggering, please advance with caution.🙏

What does it mean to be a Self-Annihilator? And the similarities between Acheron and Jiaoqiu's stories

Tldr: basically to have severe depression but much worse! :D (yaaaaay! :D)

From the ever so gracious Data Bank, S-A are described as people who have unintentionally but ireversibile stepped into the shadow of IX

To better understand these flowery words by giving Acheron as an example:

When it comes to Acheron, she stepped into THEIR shadow when it all lost meaning to her. She fought against the kami with other blades only for everyone to die. She managed to finally slay the kami but at what price? Why could that sword only be forged from this situation? Why did all have to be swallowed by naught for this blade to be made? What was the point of all this fighting and struggle if it all ultimately ended this way? If the ending never existed? If they all walked into IX shadow a long time ago?

Two worlds how pointlessly fought against one another, only for the ending to be even more pointless.

Because of all this trauma, like all soldiers coming back from a pointless war that had to witness all their fellow soldiers die, Acheron developed severe depression aka unintentionally stepped into IX shadow.

Depression isn't something you actively choose or agree with, it (annoyingly) chooses you and clings to you all the time and whispers in your year even when you don't agree with it anymore or actively try to fight against it.

You develop it from trauma (also H2O is water) and even when you are out of the environment that traumatized you, even when life is going great for you, when you have a limitless future ahead of you, it still exists and clouds ur judgement about those said things. It is something that you are stuck with. It's illogical nihilism and is sadly very hard to shake off...

But you CAN do it. Acheron and the other Self-Annihilators are proof.

There are two types of S-A: the ones who give up and succumb to it and the ones who fight back. Much like in real life (sadly)

Acheron is someone with severe depression who, despite it being uncureable, chose to show defiance against the predicament it brings by fighting back against it and actively trying to prove it wrong. Wrong not to herself, cause she knows THEIR wrong, but to prove THEM wrong to THEMSELVES.

How does this all connect to Jiaoqiu's story?: A Moment Among the Stars and Character Story Analysis

Both Acheron and Jiaoqiu have trauma from war, war that asks them "what was the point of everything you've done in the end?"

For Acheron:

What was the point of fighting if the ending was predetermined?( "Even if the ending is predetermined, that's fine. There are countless things that humans cannot change. But before the end, there are many things that humans can do while on their journey.")

For Jiaoqiu?

....

"While the Alchemy Commission is a good place to be, it is ultimately not compatible with my wish to practice medicine for the masses. The one place that requires a healer the most is undeniably the battlefield where the Yaoqing's forces are."(-Character story I)

And mah man was NOT ready for what the battlefield will ask of him and his master knew this but sadly also knew he couldn't stop the ambitious youth so he let him go. ("The elder looked as though he wanted to talk the youth out of his decision, but he ultimately decided against it.")

"A healer's purpose is to mend wounds and save lives. You pull the dying from death grip....only to see them march back into it. Saving one person is child's play. Saving the world is as hard as reaching the heavens. Do I press forward, or run away?"

Faces with this, Jiaoqiu can't help but be consumed by nihility. Question what's the point? My purpose as a healer is to save them from death grip but despite me doing that they will have to go charging back into it again and again until I can no longer save them. Doesn't that make my actions are, ultimately, pointless? I save them from death, give them hope and then they have to go back out there again and have it ripped away by an arrow. The hope of victory, of living to see it, of making it, I give it to them by saving them from death and then they have to die anyway but live through the pain of the hope I gave then being ripped away from them along with their lives.

So why save them? Give them hope? If they are gonna ultimately die? Why just not let them die at this point? And if I do that? Then what's my purpose? My purpose is to be a healer and save them from death no matter how many times but I just CAN'T bring myself to do it anymore faced with the pointlessness of it...

( -Jiaoqiu.... probably.....for legal and anti-missinfo-spreading reasons he, in fact, did not say all that)

Saving one is easy, but saving them all from death grip? Not so. Faced with the weight of that? Does he keep going or run away? Should he keep going through the pain of the pointlessness of it all or run away from it(like a coward, because it's too much)?

"You can't help but ask yourself... How does a healer heal himself?

Faces with all this nihility, he is at loss as just HOW to heal himself, the healer, amidst all this. Jiaoqiu's at an impasse, not knowing what to do, emotions conflict with each other.

"They answer with victory- Every life saved makes for the salvation of all."

"They" probably refers to all the soldiers, the ones that got healed and made it, the ones who didn't and the ones on the bed getting bandaged up.

Which is interesting. Interesting because despite them giving this answer, he still hasn't returned to the battlefield.

"Those I saved only ended up as another dead soul when they dived head-in back into the battlefield. I prefer to no longer engage in such futile efforts." ( -Jiaoqiu Character Story IV)

That despite being given the answer, the scars and terrors of the past will not make it easy to accept it or march forward with it. And that's ok. That is human and ok.

We don't actually know when he was given this answer, if it was after he started working on Feixiao or not. (something to further note on)

"Now you must make another choice... Will the result of this treatment be "life" or "death"? Are you ready to face the end... Jiaoqiu?"

Here he is probably talking about Feixiao. The choice he made to return, in a way, back to the battlefield, the place that traumatized him so much he accidentally walked into IX shadow. Only this time, it's for one person only.

Will he be able to heal her or will she die? And is he ready to face the conclusion of the case that is Feixiao, whatever that conclusion and the answer it gives might be?

The physical changes that come with being a Self-Annihilator and the suspicious desing choices in Jiaoqiu

WOOOOOOO welcome to section two of this analysis that is gonna be so much more easy for me

Now, let's have a refresher of physical and other changes that come with being a S-A:

-skin turn into something like rotten wood, full of holes and scars

-endocrine system disrupted

-becoming unable to distinguish between pleasure and pain and turning numb to everything

-loss of memories

-loss of senses

-corporeal body, mental cognition, and personal memories will gradually fade away

(Ik what makes me violently rage? WHY ISN'T HAIR TURNING WHITE IN HERE!?!?!?!)

Now based on all of that and using Acheron as comparison (while being mindful that her Emnator powers might make some parts of her S-A different) let's look at Jiaoqiu and take some notes:

-both her and Jiaoqiu have two white hair streaks that are in the same place just mirrored.

-in Jiaoqiu's lightcone description he asks himself "How many springs has it been?" suggesting that he MIGHT have memory problems like Acheron.

-in his character story IV Jiaoqiu says the spicy food boarders on pain and Owlbert commented that the pain might make him feel alive so maybe dulled senses as well (?)

-both of them have their hair turning white. While Acheron's Emnator powers make her able to hide it (refer to one of her idle's when she lets her guard down and her hair starts turning white) Jiaoqiu's hair is a light pink but not THAT light and you can see how the white hair fades into his normal not yet discolored hair. This change in hair is not recorded in the Data Bank oddly enough so we don't know how much time this takes to fully happen. 🤷😮‍💨

-lack of taste. Both Acheron and him can't taste the flavor of any food that isn't heavily spicy or strong in flavor. Acheron directly tells us that through the peach and her favorite drink being Wake the Heck Up. Jiaoqiu's like for spicy foods can easily be brushed as him just being a spice fanatic until you read his character story.

In the first one he eats lotus petals and comments "Sweet and refreshing, it delights the plate" showing a liking to them. But in IV he comments "Ugh, too bland" when eating them again. Even his master comments, "I remember you preferred bland food before joining the army." to which he responds "People... tend to change.".

The change comes from his III story, after Lan hit the battlefield with THEIR arrow, killing both enemies and soldiers. A moment that traumatized him so much that after it all died down, he felt cold from the inside and put EVERY spice he had into his cauldron and only then was he able to feel the taste

"When his already numbed sense of taste finally picked up on the spice, a jolt of current ran through him. He felt alive for the first time! It was a sensation that bordered on pain."

And all of these similarities, ARE FUCKIN SUSPICIOUS!😁😁

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

Tldr: I'm going insane (the end)

I hope Hoyo's headquarters burn down actually cause I'm tired of getting brainrots from these characters!!!😭

Hoyo literally allergic to leaving pink foxes alone (and melanin- HOW SAID THAT!?🫢)

Anyway who wants to join hands and pray in a circle for Jiaoqiu S-A confirmation cause at this point you don't make Acheron and this mf after and add all that to him with it being completely coincidence ESPECIALLY THE HAIR AND SPICY FOOD HOYO YOU BETTER CONFORM THIS OR ISTFG OSNDODBDODDBODDN

I'm so normal!!! 😁

Anywaaaayyy if you read this far thank you soooo *mwah* muuuuuch🙏 hearts and repost are very much appreciated as it keeps me posting here :,D If you liked this I have some other stuff posted that might pick ur interest. Ik I'm not the best at putting it all together in a neat way but I'm trying my best, I usually keep all this in my head 😅

May the sunlight brush your cheeks, flowers tickle ur skin and butterflies kiss ur nose! :)

[oh-goddess-of-chaos]

⠀ 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 – 𝐣. 𝐝. 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ✧‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (navi. & masterlist. & tag. )

「 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 」 yandere!jason dean 𝒙 female!reader

「 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 」 in which you try to break up with jason dean, but you find that doing so is a lot harder than you anticipated.

「 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 」 man-handling, murder / death, manipulation, toxic / abusive relationship, unconsensual kissing, threatening, swearing, generally psychotic behavior, implied / referenced stalking, general yandere themes.

「 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 」 1.2k

「 𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐧'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 .⁺ ˖ ⌒ this one's a bit on the shorter side, but it was fun to write!

"You killed her."

Those were the only words you could think to utter staring at your deranged ex-partner. "You fucking killed her, didn't you?"

In spite of your current rage and distress, all J. D. could seem to do was offer you a devilish grin and a smirk. "Well, I wouldn't say killed her, just... I put her out of her misery, is all. Charity work, really."

"You did it. You murdered my best friend. Do you think this is a joke?"

"Well, it is quite funny, if I do say so myself."

You weren't quite sure what you were feeling at the moment. Anger was one thing, but heartbroken, too, for you had lost the person that was closest to you.

And yet, your inner turmoil aside, you felt a terrible, terrible smile slither its way across your face - a not because you were happy by any stretch - the situation you found yourself in was by no means one that'd cause you any feelings of joy - but simply because you had no idea what else to do.

"She was right. I should have stayed away from you. You're not a rebel. You're fucking psychotic."

"Well, you say tomato, I say 'to-mah-to'."

You grated your teeth together. "Just get out, J. D." You were much too tired to play any of J. D.'s mind games. You just wanted him gone. And for a moment - for one beautiful moment - he seemed to consider doing what you asked. But, alas, he was never one for folding so easily.

"No."

You drew in a sharp breath. "Excuse me?"

J. D. took a step closer to you. You held your ground, hoping to give off the impression that you weren't intimidated by what he might do; you knew he had a loaded gun on him, and his unpredictable nature didn't ease your racing heart.

"I'm not leaving, and you can't make me."

"J. D., this is my house."

"Well, technically it's your parent's home, and I doubt you want to get them involved, unless you'd like two more of your loved ones with their brains blown out."

You stiffened, your throat tightening up. Upon your lack of a response, J. D.'s mouth curled into a wicked smile. "That's what I thought. Now, how about we both go out to 7-11 and grab a couple of slushies?"

J. D. outstretched his arm in order to grasp your hand, but just as your fingers brushed, you jerked backwards. J. D.'s smile faded.

"Y/n - "

"I'll call the cops - I'll fucking call the cops on you, J. D.!"

J. D. raised an eyebrow and began nodding. "The cops?" He inquired. "Tell me, when they arrest me, do you think they're going to ignore the fact that you somehow knew for a fact that I killed Heather, Kurt, and Ram? What proof do you have that doesn't incriminate yourself? What will you say when they ask you how you know it's me? You wrote the letters."

"Yeah, well I didn't murder people!"

A strangely exuberant laughter escaped J. D.'s lips. "You didn't, did you? Then you didn't give Heather that mug of liquid drainer? And you also didn't shoot Kurt?"

You paused briefly, thinking of a quick defence. "Well I didn't know that was the wrong cup! And Kurt - I was just so shocked - "

J. D. took a step forward. You took a step back. J. D. grinned. He continued his approach until you inevitably collided with the wall, letting out a small gasp. "Admit it, Y/n!" He trapped you with his arms. "You say I'm evil, but look in the mirror! We're the same! We both do fucked up shit, and we like it! I saw that look on your face when Heather died. You were glad."

"We are not the same. I did not want them dead. Whatever you thought you saw in me when Heather died, it wasn't there. You're delusional, J. D. Now, I'm calling the cops, so don't even try to - "

"You can't call them. You know that. The moment you do your parents would be dead - and, besides, you know you couldn't pay to have a lawyer send me to jail. I know your parents wouldn't be able to afford it."

He was right. And you hated him for it. You didn't even ask how he knew your family wouldn't have sufficient funds - at this point, you'd be surprised if he didn't know something about you or your personal life.

"Well, I'm not coming with you, no matter what you'd do. I'd rather - "

J. D. didn't allow you to finish, forcefully swallowing your words with the press of his lips. The kiss was anything then what it should have been - it was greedy, feverish, demanding. You didn't have so much as a moment to breath as J. D. devoured you, leaving you terribly, terribly breathless. His icy fingers tug into your skin, surely leaving bruises, and you shuddered at the feeling of his wandering hands along your exposed skin.

J. D.'s kisses now were not what they once were. A million years ago, they sweet and tender, a warm interlocking of souls on a cold winter's day. They were beautiful and wonderful and tasted of nothing but kindness and thoughtfulness. But this one was nothing like the ones you'd experienced in the past. It was hungry, rough as J. D. pressed you plush against him, searing as opposed to warm, poisonous as opposed to tender.

It was after what could only be described as an eternity that J. D. pulled away, staring at your dizzy self with a satisfied expression upon his face.

Because, at last, here you were, like a bird with clipped wings, caught in J. D.'s trap, the one you'd unknowingly watched him craft bar by bar.

You froze as you felt two arms slither around your waist, firmly pulling you to J. D. He liked you like this - he could practically smell the fear radiating off of you, and it was intoxicating. Neither slushies nor cigars could compare to the high he felt from your presence.

"You're not leaving. You can't. And, besides, I'd kill you if you did." He let out a satisfied sigh. "I worship you - can't you see that?" You shivered as J. D.'s warm breath tickled your ear. "We were meant to be, darling. There was a reason we met... you were made for me."

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding as J. D. slowly let you go, grasping your chin between his forefinger and thumb. You naturally diverted your gaze.

J. D. grabbed your arm and squeezed it tightly, causing you to let out a small yelp. "Look at me."

Hesitantly, you obliged, your stomach knotting when you caught the dark glimmer in J. D.'s eyes. It was then that you knew - knew that you'd never once be free again, knew you'd be forever bound to J. D.

"We're going to fix this fucked up world together, Y/n."

© do not translate, steal, or repost any of my works elsewhere without consulting me and gaining my consent.

[jennydwren]

My Arthur: Some Night Thoughts

In between the cancellation of The Acolyte (there's still hope, Clone Wars came back) and the premiere of Rings of Power S2 -- and I PROMISE you that each and every dudebro I blocked in these situations on the former bird app either had crypto in bio or a timeline that was entirely focused on a sports team... I mean, why not think about RDR2? I want to think what it means that so many players speak of MY Arthur, like we all have little pocket Arthurs as pets. "I like my Arthur to be a scary bad guy so I keep him shaved bald." "Well, my Arthur looks his best with Level 7 or 8 hair and a Level 1 or 2 beard." "This time I'm making sure that my Arthur has the best satchel and the Legend of the East outfit." "I always pamper my Arthur before a hard mission. I buy him a ribeye steak at a saloon, get him a bath, and let him sleep just one more night in a hotel. I feed him up to Overweight before Guarma and Chapter 6." "My Arthur is high honor. He would never do XYZ." "Oh yeah? I think my Arthur loves being low honor and beating the crap out of people." "Weird. My Arthur's favorite missions are the dinosaur bones." All of these Arthurs are different and yet the same. All of them are doomed. You have to rewind the timeline and go back to a Chapter 2 save to have a healthy Arthur who can chat and sing with his compadres at the campfire. Nobody's Arthur, until you take him out of the game and into some of the absolutely and utterly beautiful fanart and fanfics, can succeed with Mary Linton, or Charles for that matter. The R* canon Arthur is always doomed. What does it say about us that we can't bear to let go of him, even though his own dialogue tells us he clearly sees the writing on the wall as early as Chapter 1? Is it just the natural human abhorrence of the reality that we too will someday die without accomplishing all that we wanted to? I can relate. Big mood, Arthur. In fragmenting into all of these disparate Arthurs -- Roger Clark has pointed out more people own copies of the game than live in Ireland -- maybe that's how the egregore, the Arthur conjured from the collective consciousness of millions of individual players, stays alive. Many writers of fanfics want their Arthur to be theirs. Not just a rough fuck on daddy's kitchen counter, although I've read that story too, and not just the Not Enough Beds trope, though that too was a fine story. They want to smash Arthur because who doesn't? But they want him to love them, despite R* Arthur having not one single solitary relationship skill. This new Arthur teaches you to draw (the preponderance of Arthur fics I've read involve a "you" reader). Your wish that he address you as he does a mare, "That's mah good girl," comes resplendently true. Sometimes, such are the fix-him powers of You that You and he escape the gang before the name Thomas Downes can be uttered. Arthur's heart beats for You and You alone. Sometimes he protects You from danger. Sometimes he accepts a free sample of sponge cake from You in a bakery. All of these Arthurs go out Arthuring all over the wrong but familiar RDR2 America, often with You at their side. Sometimes You even find him on the cliffside before his rattling last breath, and drag him to safety and a warm, dry climate. One Arthur I read was even saved by a doctor in Mexico with the only available treatment of the period -- collapsing part of the lung -- and recovered fully, having four kids with Sadie Adler and saving most of the RDR world along the way.

You can have your Arthur and play him too. Indeed, a fresh shot of Roger Clark's bravura performance -- combined, as he is the first to point out, with the animators' work, for example giving him the most delicious lower lip -- compounds the infatuation should it threaten to recede.

People suffer profound grief over this game. Of course, it is their own grief from non-digital life: "It is Margaret you mourn for" -- Gerard Manley Hopkins. Perhaps the loss of their Arthur and the way his surviving friends gradually adjust to the loss helps people make room for the holes in their own lives. But that's the thing. That's the comfort at the bottom of the grief pit.

Because once you find your Arthur, including within yourself (I don't just mean cosplay, but I've seen people of all genders don the stained blue workshirt, the suspenders, the neckerchief, the goddamn hat, and wear Arthur on their bodies)... you can't ever really lose him. He changes you. And that may be the strangest and most wonderful thing you can say about a work of fiction.

Keep sharing your Arthurs. The chibis, the young Arthurs cradling poor Isaac or reading to child John Marston, the AUs, the low-honor black coyotes and the high-honor 14-point stags. Marthur, Charthur, Albert Mason x Arthur. All the versions of him. Because they're also You.

[from-now-on-im-switzerland]

Oh mah God, your jasper fanfics are so stinking cute! A continuation of the baseball one would be perfect!

Like maybe after hanging out with her the feelings get stronger and he decides to distance himself in worry, and the reader, albeit confused, respects him and is a little heartbroken. Maybe at one point he worries about her for a moment when Emmett tells her she didn't look well (she's sleep deprived from stressing about him but trying to keep it to herself) so he pulls a creepy (can't find a better word) Edward and shows up outside her room and senses her heartbroken ness and feels like he has it too but brushes it off thinking it's just hers instead of his own. She starts getting closer to the wolfs and he tries acting like it doesn't bother him and pretends he could care less when she starts sitting with them in the cafeteria after he shows back up at school. And it's not until Alice has a vision of her getting discovered by volturi and "ended" that he starts keeping an eye on her again, and when a guard of the volturi blends in at the school and he notices does things begin and yeah....or something like that lol take the idea into your jar of boredom writing or something 😂

I feel like you'd write this perfectly! And spot on with the jasper and his accent..

Uhm...YES!? You're so creative this is such a good idea. I should be doing my college coursework right now, but this is all I'll think about so I'm doing it right now!! Also forgive the gammer 🥲😫

Okay, it won't be a DIRECT continuation of the Baseball one-shot bc it's already part of of a different fic I'm writing. I'm just gonna take out Y/n's friends but the baseball game still happened okay?

(sorry 🙏) (I don't know if that made sense.)

>I just like the cold.

>Jasperxf¡reader

>As I said, not a direct continuation but instead the start of a new series? (lmk)

>could be a tad longer that what I'd usually write 🥲

>TW, Panic Attack

°Jasper's POV°

When I saw her eyes for the first time, in that cramped hallway, I melted inside. My icey veins (filled with the venom that could end her life in an instant) were fueled with warmth as they must've once been long before. And that all too familiar burning sensation at the back of my throat hasn't left me alone since I caught her scent for the first time.

I thought it was just me being hungry. I hadn't eaten that day and it could've been that she just had tasty smelling blood. But knowing my luck, that obviously wasn't it. I can't put my family through this again, I just can't. I've tried to maintain a friendship with her for the fair few weeks she's been here but it's getting harder and harder.

I can't believe I was once angry or annoyed with Edward for falling for a human. I guess karma's a bitch huh? Y/n has no clue about my feelings, I hope. Why would I tell her? So I think it's best, for her safety if I just stop being friends with her. It'll keep her so much safer I know it will.

"I thought that too" Edward said, appearing in the corner of my room.

I didn't jump, I heard him race up the stairs.

"What?" I asked, annoyed I was interrupted by Mr Thought Police himself.

"About Bella. Remember when we left for half a year? And I left her? I thought it'd make her happy. Safe. But it took us both almost dying for me to realise we were safer together.." Edward said, reminding me of the very thing I wanted to try and avoid.

"But that's you, Eddie. You and Bella, by then she already loved you, by then she knew the risk and by then it was too late for stupid mistakes. I'm in a grey area right now, where she doesn't know a damn thing and I just want to keep her safe." I said, sighing as I heard Emmett approach my room aswell.

"Bro, she really likes us.." Emmett said, racing over to the other corner of my room. "I mean for some reason you specifically, but she's told me! We're actually like best friends now so if you want me to be the middle man..just let me know." He said, winking.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, I've seen you together before, walking around the school. You've been especially close ever since you almost abliterated her head with a baseball...but oh well."

"Do I detect a hint of jealousy, Jasper?" Emmett teased. Edward laughed as he joined our brother over at his side of my room.

"No Emmett you don't, because I have no right to be jealous in the first place, she's not mine to be jealous over." I said, not meeting thier eyes.

"But you want her to be." Edward said.

This drew my attention as I looked up and saw his face. Care and amusement radiating off of him.

"I'm glad you find my dilemma so amusing, none of us ever laughed at you, you moody asshole" I said, throwing a pillow full force in his direction.

He caught it. "It's just funny to see how much of a little boy you're being about something that is so crystal clear" he said, tossing back the pillow.

"Oh yeah? And what's that?" I asked, fed up now.

"She's your singer. Just like Bella was mine. I've heard your thoughts, they're too loud to ignore. That feeling? that burning? It's nothing you've felt around anyone else is it?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, but I don't want to have to go through the same old debate of “do we turn her or not” and that's even if she feels the same way.." I said.

"Dude, you're literally an empath. You can find out yourself" Emmett said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I hate using my gift on her as it is. The thought of manipulating her in any way makes my skin crawl, alright? If it's to help her then I can deal with it but I won't just use it to be nosy, that's not fair" I said. "you can still be friends with her if you want Emmett but I can't do it. I won't let myself drag her into this life. I know you wanted the same thing for Bella, Edward but maybe I can make it happen for Y/n. If anyone deserves a blessed life, it's her." I said, walking out my room, speeding out the house and into the forest to clear my head.

I just need to keep away from her. I'll keep her safe that way.

°Reader's POV°

This week had been..strange. Emmett had been even more friendly then he usually was; it was perhaps due to the fact that he could've killed me the other week with that baseball, but y'know, life goes on. And at no point had I even had a chance to speak to Jasper. Even in class, he'd moved seats. Of course, that was his last resort after they wouldn't let him change his lesson plan.

It ached my heart a little because, I really liked him and for some reason it's like a flip had been switched in his brain and he no longer wanted anything to do with me. It was Friday, and I was determined to atleast get a conversation with him.

While Emmett was babbling on about something to do with gorillas, I interrupted him. "Emmett when did you..uh...see Jasper last?" I asked.

"last I saw he was with Rose and Bella in the cafeteria.." I saw a small glint in his eye as he answered. "But..i don't think he wants to talk to you.." he said just as I began to walk off.

"Have I done something wrong? Did I say something? Is he..is he mad at me for something? Why won't he speak to me?" I rattled off a few of the questions I'd kept to myself all week.

"Woah, calm down. It's..." he hesitated. "it's not my place to say but I think he might just be trying to avoid talking to you because he knows if he does, he won't be able to not talk to you. " he said, in a really confusing tone.

"You've complicated this way too much than you needed to. Is he still there now?" I asked reffering to where he said he saw him.

"Pretty sure, yeah."

I took off without a thank you, which I felt bad about, but I was too focused on getting that conversation with Jasper.

I was almost running to the cafeteria, as I knew the bell was going to ring at any moment. I made it in the cafeteria and spotted him immediately, and he saw me too. His eyes met mine for less than half a second, before he looked to the floor.

He left his conversation with his sisters and went to walk out the opposite way that I was coming in. I ran this time, and caught up to him.

"Hey! What's going on? Have I done something?" I asked, needing answers.

He audibly sighed and closed his eyes, breathing in. "No, you haven't. You haven't done a thing, I promise." He said, and began to walk away again. I moved infront of him to stop him from walking away.

"Don't walk away from me, I wasn't finished. If I haven't done anything then what's the issue? Why can't you talk to me I want to be here for you." I tried to take a hold of his hands but he wouldn't let me touch him. And he didn't meet my eyes, he refused to even look at my face.

"Because...Y/n" I heard his voice shaking. "I just can't be around you, it's not your fault, you're not the reason why I just-" he paused, and bit his inner lip. "I just can't okay?" he said, pushing past me. He sped off down the hall not looking back, leaving me behind.

The bell rang through the halls, louder than I'd ever heard it before. It started to hurt my ears but my eyes couldn't pull away from his figure.

Tears swirled in my eyes as I watched him walk off, and my breath quickened. Then, what I feared, that feeling tightened up in my chest. No. Not a panic attack. I can't, not at school. I took one last look at Jasper walking off before racing back out of the cafeteria and into the school parking lot.

The cold air hit me like a kind wave, and the small droplets of rain coated my face as I looked up at the sky, desperaty wanting it to swallow me whole. It was a small sense of relief before the feeling washed back in like the tide. I ditched my backpack and jacket, throwing them on the floor, needing the coldness on my skin. I tried to slow my breathing down but it wasn't working. I made my way down the steps, now in a short sleeve t-shirt, tripping slightly on the last step as I made my way across the lot. My breathing wasn't slowing and I couldn't stop it, I guess I'd just have to ride it out.

"..Y/n?" I heard from the trees.

I span around, my breath not halting and my panic increasing. As my heart rate was about to rocket even more, Seth Clearwater stumbled out from the trees. I had met him a few times, he and his friends all the way down at the Reservation were good friends with the Cullens.

"Seth?" I aksed, I didn't want to start hallucinating people. That would be a whole new area for me that I wouldn't be able to keep up with.

He made his way over to me. "Yeah, it's me. It's Seth. What's going on? Hey...hey" he was inches away from me now. I tied to move away but he stepped closer in fear I was going to somehow hurt myself. My tears wouldn't stop and my head was looking very which way "Y/n. Look at me."

His order sent a small shockwave into me for a second and I snapped my eyes up, his face blurred due to the tears streaming from my eyes. He took his thumbs and wiped under my eyes, but new tears replaced the stains he wiped away.

"Breathe with me okay?" he asked.

I wanted to try, there's nothing I hate more than this shit. But sometimes you can't help but just ride out the attack until it's done. I nodded my head vigorously and he began to breathe, waiting for me to follow suit.

"Okay in..." he took a breath in and let it out softly. "..and out.."

I tried my best to follow suit but my throat needed as much air as it could get. And it kept speeding up the pattern.

"No Y/n with me, c'mon you got this.." he said, holding my hands.

"In.." he breathed in once again and I followed suit. "and out" he breathed out again.

Slowly but surely my breathing returned to a somewhat normal pace but my shaking didn't stop.

"there you go.." he continued the pattern as he slowly walked me over to a stone wall, and sat me down.

"You're freezing, Y/n." he said, touching my cheek after wiping yet another tear..

"I'll be fine..I like the cold when these things happen.." I laughed slightly, to ease the awkwardness, if there was any.

"I know, it helps a lot doesn't it?" he said, sitting down next to me.

"wait, you've-"

"yep" he cut me off, with a sheepish smile. "I get it. You're inside somewhere when that ugly feeling hits. You beeline it for the nearest exist and the air just gives you something else to feel. It doesn't stop it, but it definitely helps. The cold, it..it helps you feel something different other than that thing in your chest.." he said, describing what it was like for him.

I nodded along as he said so. "yeah..that's...exactly it." I smiled.

He looked up from staring at his feet and smiled back at me, before frowning. "Y/n your lips are slowly going blue, I know how much the cold helps but I won't let you catch hypothermia.." Seth said, pulling me into his chest and offering me a hug.

He was so so warm. It wasn't a stuffy warm either, the kind of warm where you feel sticky. It was that cozy warmth. That homely warmth on a winter morning.

I shivered in his arms at the contact. "Oh..jeez your pretty hot. Are you ill or something?" I asked.

He chuckled slightly. "No Y/n, I'm just a warm person.." he admitted.

"C'mon, let's get you back inside.." he said, rising us up to our feet.

"No!" I wriggled out of his grip, my heart fluttering again, in slight panic. I feel if I see him again today, I'll get worse.

He took hold of me again gently. "Okay..I'll take you home yeah? We just gotta grab your stuff that you graciously dumped on the stairs.." he said, smiling.

I laughed slightly as we walked slowly over to the steps. He jogged up them and picked up my stuff. He placed my jacket over my shoulders and carried my bag over to my car.

He walked confidently over to the drivers seat.

"I swear you're like..16 can you even drive?" I asked, a smile paying on my lips.

"I'm 17 now actually. And it's fine don't worry, hop in" he said, unlocking the car with my keys he must've taken from my pocket.

We got in the car and threw our seat belts on.

"Thanks for this Seth. Aren't you missing a lesson right now though?" I asked, I didn't want to ruin his education.

"Oh nah, me and the boys are on a part time timetable for this school and the one down by the Rez, so don't worry about it...anyways.....where's the handbreak?"

My eyes shot in his direction only to see him holding in a laugh.

"Uh. What do you mean where's the handbreak?" I asked.

He finally giggled. "Don't worry, I'm just joking. We'll be fine. I've never been to your house though, so you can be my sat nav" he smiled turning on the car, and pulling out of the car park.

°Jasper's POV°

I walked away from her. Every fibre of my being telling me to look back. I fought against it, but gave in. I looked back and saw a glimpse of her as she rushed out of the cafeteria.

What am I doing?

I felt the dread and panic leaking from her as I started to walk away. And I just left her. I left her feeling that way. I know I'm doing this to keep her safe but I can't pretend that I'm perfect, leaving her in fear.

Special thanks to my power, I'm extremely sensitive to even my own emotions and with years of practice I've managed to get a good control of it, but Y/n..I feel her emotions so much more than anyone else's.

My still heart is telling me not to go near her, to keep her safe...but her scent, as much as it tempts me, it deals me a great source of comfort..I can't explain it. I'm near her and I feel safe. I'm a monster and have nothing to fear really, but in her presence it's like we're the only two on earth.

Which is why I must do this. I can't that let angel be manipulated by the devil deep inside me. I won't allow it.

I let out the breath I was holding in during that encounter, again not that I needed to, but I think people would notice if I wasn't breathing. I made my way to the science block and yippee! I was next to Sire Brain Detective and his wife.

I was waiting outside the classroom to catch Bella before Edward got there. I caught her scent in the hallway and rushed to her side.

"Hey Bella, can you just maybe kinda block my thoughts from Edward please?" I asked, a sheepish smile following close behind.

"Why?" She asked, squinting her eyes a little.

"Well you've never had the problem, but Edward is very nosy. And I'd just like my thoughts kept to myself for today." I said.

We kept on walking into the classroom and to our seats.

"So it's nothing to do with Y/n then?" she quizzed.

Even hearing her name makes me feel sick.

"No. Bella..just please can you do it?" I was begging her at this point as I smelled Edward down the corridor.

She looked up as she caught his scent too. "Okay, but you owe me" she said.

"Thanks Bella." I said.

Edward walked in the class and met my eyes immediately, a hint of confusion crossed his face before he sat down next to his wife and realised. "Oh c'mon how is that fair?" he said.

"How is what fair?" Me and Bella said at the same time. We looked at eachother breifely before opening out books as instructed to.

°Reader's POV°

Awkward, sweaty and sleepless. That's all I feel right now. I close my eyes and he's there. I open my eyes an he's all I can imagine. Everything I tried, I couldn't get him off my mind. I even tried counting sheep, but the sheep soon morphed themselves into horses, then I soon saw him riding a horse, actually imagining him as a Cowboy. I snapped my eyes open and drank some water I left by the side of my bed, before making a last attempt to get some sleep.

After what seemed like hours of tossing and turning in the same directions over and over again, I got up and opened my window. Again, the cold air washed over me and it was almost instant relief. Just like Seth said, it gives you something else to feel.

I watched the trees as they swayed in the wind, thier green leaves brushing against eachother at each breeze. Out of all the places my Mum had placed me while she did her book tour, Washington was probably my favourite so far, well specifically Forks. Since the beginning of the year, (when my Mum's book tour started) I'd been placed in a random city in the state she needed to visit, and Forks was this really nice and small town. Where everyone knew everyone. Of course, the thought of litteraly everyone talking about me as the new arrival didn't appeal to me at all, but when I had moments to myself, it was impossible for me not to gawk at the nature around me. The grey skies, while annoying to some, gave me a nice comforting feeling. The rain, which everyone hated, was my favourite weather. I don't know what it was.. I guess I just like the cold.

I was pulled from my thoughts as my phone buzzed under my pillow. It was my mum calling, I answered of course, but I wandered why she was calling at 4am.

"Mum? what's up?" I asked, trying to hide my tired voice.

"Oh my god Y/n I'm so sorry.. I forgot about the time zones...go back to sleep, I'll ring you at a better time.." she said.

"wait what do you mean the time zones? you're in Washington too?" I questioned, wandering what she meant.

"No..honey, that's why I called. I got to my hotel and they said they had my reservation booked for next year, so they flew me out to the state I was supposed to be in." She said, sounding ashamed. "I tried to mention you, and say how I could catch my own flight..but.. they-they wouldn't listen to me..."

"Mum... Mum it's okay, don't worry about it I'll be fine okay? Just make me proud." I said.

"but I only gave you enough money to last a couple months not over a year..nearly two! And you're in your last year of school, what will you do all day? How-"

"Mum" I cut her off "I'll get a job, it'll be fine. You've been doing book tours since I was like 15, I know how to live on my own." I said.

"but that was when you were 5 minutes down the road...or a bus drive away..now I'm on the other side of the country!" She panicked.

"wait, the other side of the country? where did they fly you to?" I asked. The phone went silent for a few seconds before she answered.

"I'm in Georgia, honey.." She said. "I called you as soon as I had time, I'm sorry I've left you there, I can book a flight and cancel the tour-"

"-No, Mum don't. I'm not gonna pretend hearing you were in Georgia didn't scare me a little bit, but I'm perfectly fine here in Forks. I like it here.." I said honestly.

"but honey-"

"No 'buts'." I said. "Mum some kids leave the nest at early ages, some never leave..maybe it's my time to make a life for myself.." I said, with tears threatening to spill.

"I-in Washington, are you sure?" Mum's voice was shaking by now.

"Mum, I'm old enough. I know it's scary, it'll be difficult too but.. sometimes life just throws you in a new direction and you can't help but see where it takes you.." I said, wiping a tear from my cheek.

"Hey, I'm supposed to be the one full of wisdom little lady" she joked. "well...I guess it isn't the craziest idea you've had." she said, sadly.

"so yeah?" I asked.

She took a deep breath "Yes Y/n, yes. Start your life.." she said.

"Okay.." I said.

It wasn't long before I was off the phone and trying to sleep again. I prayed when I rested my head on the pillow, he wouldn't plug my mind, but much to my dismay he returned and my heart ached.

I closed my eyes and managed to drift off to sleep just before my alarm rang for me to start getting ready for school. The ringing of the bell threw me back to that moment. That moment he left. Just like that.

°Emmett's POV°

Since the day Jasper told Y/n that he couldn't be near her anymore, she hasn't been in. And I'm worried about how she's taken it.

I didn't tell Jasper I was gonna go pick Y/n up today as I didn't want him to go all emo and be like “ugh you're gonna smell like her all day!” so I instead took my absolutely, positively, non-judgemental wife.

"So why are we on our way to a humans house right now?" Rose asked me from the passenger's seat of my jeep. "what purpose is she serving us other than pleasing our noses?"

"Babe, she's my friend..and I'm worried about how she is. She didn't come in at all last week since Jasper didn't want anything to do with her, and I'm not gonna let my idiot of a brother be the reason she fails school.." I said, keeping my eyes on the road.

Rose went silent and looked out the window. "Just let me know when we're there.." she said, closing her eyes.

"That would be now.." I said, pulling up outside her house.

I got out the jeep while Rose stayed in, and made my way to the front door. I hesitated before knocking and waited for an answer. A good minute went by, so I knocked again and as I did, the door flew open.

"I told you three times already, Mrs Henderson doesn't live here anym-" she cut herself off when she saw my amused face.

She rubbed her eyes. "Emmett?"

"The one and only!" I replied.

"What are you doing here?" her voice was drained, and she looked a lot less bubbly than before. Her eyes drooped slightly and dark circles hung below them from lack of sleep.

"To get you to school, missy!" I said, not wanting to comment about the elephant in the room.

"But Emmett, Jasper said-"

"Fuck what Jasper said, it's your life and it's your school too. What..just because he's being a little bitch right now that means you can't get educated? I don't see how that's fair.." I said, crossing my arms.

She rolled her half-lidded eyes. "Okay, let me get changed.." she said, turning back into her house and shutting the door.

I celebrated my victory behind the wood of the closed door and waited for her to open it again. I sat on the step and prepared to wait, when the door swung open again. She stepped out with all her stuff. "C'mon then, let's go." she said, plastering on a fake smile.

"I thought you were atleast gonna cook some breakfast? It's like half seven in the morning..." I said, standing up and leading her to the jeep.

"Nah...not hungry." she said, climbing in.

I got in too, and put the radio back on.

"Hey Rosalie" Y/n said, tiredly a sheepish smile across her face.

My head quickly turned to my wife and I begged her with my eyes to be nice. But she didn't even look at me and instead looked for Y/n in the wing mirror.

"Jasper's an idiot, but he cares about you and he's doing this for your own good, I'd take it as a win." she said, before closing her eyes again and turning up the radio.

I started the jeep up again after a small awkward silence with nothing but the music blaring and began to drive to the school.

"yeah but does he know how much it's actually hurting?" Y/n whispered, any normal person wouldn't have heard it but of course me being a beautiful, immortal, gifted being...I did.

Passing through the familiar streets of Forks, it didn't take me long to get to the school, I parked the jeep and Rose got out. I turned around in my seat to face Y/n. Her sleep-deprived look catching me off guard once again.

"You ready girl?" I asked, grinning.

She sighed. "Not really, Emmett" she replied sadly, staring at a particular stone wall in the car park.

"Well c'mon, you got this. Let's go" I said, getting out.

It wasn't long before she climbed out herself. As she shut the door.

"Thanks for dragging me in Emmett, but I'm gonna go incase he appears from around the corner or something.." she said, with low energy as she dragged her feet toward the doors of the school.

°Reader's POV°

I couldn't thank Emmett more, I wouldn't have been able to get here on my own accord. It's just a shame I didn't have the energy to express my gratitude to him as much as I wanted to.

It was about 10 minutes until my first lesson so I walked to the cafeteria to get a drink. As I opened the doors, I saw Seth and some of his friends from the Rez sat at a table and so I wasted no time in going over there.

"What are you lot doing here?" I asked.

"Part time, time-table in each school! How do you keep forgetting that?" one of them said.

"Uhm..Seth?" I looked to him for help, I could barely remember any of the other's names.

"Alright, sit down." he pulled a chair from the table behind him and turned it next to him, facing their table. "Here we have Quil, Leah my sister, and Embry." he said.

I had only met the rest of them once but Seth I had seen a number of times, and he's who I was closest to...now for a very obvious reason.

"So what's your first lesson?" Quil asked.

"Science.." I said quietly, biting the inside of my cheek afterward to simmer down the anxiety I felt creeping in.

I started boucing my leg too, which Seth took notice to. He offered me a smile, which I returned, weak as ever.

The bell rang, louder than before, and I covered my ears, burying my head down against my chest. Each time I hear that bastard bell it gets louder and louder, and the memory of that last conversation with him gets clearer and clearer in my mind.

°Jasper's POV°

"I'm telling you man..she's-"

Emmett would not stop. I told him I didn't want to hear it, but he was following me all over our house, not leaving me alone.

"her eyes don't look the same, she doesn't have nearly as much energy as she used to, I haven't seen her smile, and if I'm being honest I don't think she's eating properly.." Emmett said.

Hearing his words made my non-beating heart ache.

"I've been picking her up all week and she never eats breakfast, and when was the last time I saw her eating in the cafeteria? Uhh let me think, I haven't!" he said, in my face.

I was looking at the floor, guilt riddling my body. She's like this because of me.

"I get it. Emmett. Okay?" I spat, my voice quavering.

He moved back slowly, almost realising that this was hurting me too, and left my room.

After staring out the window for another moment or two, I sped off out the house before anyone could question it. I ducked and dived between branches, breaking them if they were too big for me to dodge. I raced through the woods rembering the route to her house when I met her before school, when we first started to talk to each other. I ran to her. Wondering what I was going to do when I got there, would I beg her to forgive me? Would I stop this madness and just tell her everything? At this point, I couldn't see anything but her angelic face, and hear her sweet voice and before I knew it, I came to a swift stop by the trees of her house.

I approached it slowly, still deciding what to do, until I lingered by the side of the house where her bedroom was. I climbed up a tree that rested just by it and waited to see her or atleast hear her.

"fuck sake..just go away!" I heard her complain as she slammed the door to her bedroom. "You don't want anything to do with me so why won't you get out of my head!" She panicked, her voice wailing as she spoke.

"It's not fair.." she said after a minute of silence. She got up. "It's not fair." she repeated. She tossed her chair on the floor. "It's not fair!" she threw a picture frame against the wall. She repeated those three words, growing more aggressive each time and trashing a new part of her room until she ran out of energy.

She breathed heavily and sunk against the wall, sobbing. She cried, and it was like a thousand hot knives were cutting me all over. She cried and I had to fight as hard as I could not to rush in there.

She cried and I felt heartbreak. My breath quickened too, as her emotions laced with my own. Sat in the tree in that moment I didn't know which emotions were mine and which were hers.

She cried and cried until she fell asleep, and that's when some of her emotions filtered away from my body. Though she fell asleep and tears were still staining her cheeks, the aching in my heart wouldn't leave or subside. It stayed.

[strawberrydutchling]

Little Coffee Shop II | Transformers Au

Summary: You meet Jazz!

You like your job. But that doesn't mean you don't have your least favorite part of it. Case in point, cleaning the dishes. Specifically, cleaning the burn stains of the pans after accidentally putting them on a high flame for too long.

'That's the last time I take chocolate-making lessons from a short video.'  You internally sighed after you finally finished rinsing the last of the bowl.

In the process of putting them on the dry rack, you heard the hanging chimes by the door ring.

"Hellooo~, [Name]? You here?" A loud voice boomed through the once-quiet atmosphere of the cafe. A small gasp almost left your lips in surprise. You knew fully well who that voice came from.

"Jazz, is that you? Hold on a second, I'll be right there! "

You picked up the pace putting them all on the drying rack as quickly as you could, wanting to personally greet one of their f̶a̶v̶o̶r̶i̶t̶e̶ customers.

(Regular is an understatement. Though you were not hiring, Jazz occasionally plays live music for the cafe, when he's not busy with assignments and student Council work. You once asked him about it, and he simply replied he 'just really loves playing music and enjoyed the vibe of the place' as he put it.

... Noble his words may be, you're pretty sure he's doing it 'cause of the free snacks and drinks that comes with the gig. )

After wiping your hands with a dry cloth, you step out of the staff room, ready to greet the young mech.

You walked out of the staff room, and there stood a figure standing by the coffee bar, dressed in white and black. You could see Jazz's face beaming the moment you came to view it. "He~ey! There you are! Mah favorite barista!"

He sure has a way with words, and his accent adds more charm to it.

You couldn't  help but share the same sentiment and gave your own brightened face."Good morning, Jazz. It's been a while." Summer break is 3 months for the university, and it didn't seem much has changed for Jazz by the looks of it. Same stance, same attitude, and same blue visor.

Though... is he taller? The last time you saw him, he was just about your height! But now, he was looking down at you...

Wow, Summer growth sprout is no joke.

" 'Certainly has! Sorry, I didn't stop by on the first day. It's only been the first week and some of the profs are already bombarding us with quizzes. " He sighed in exasperation.

"It's fine. student life isn't exactly easy, so I understand. But I am honored that you even thought about visiting me." You smiled at the compliment, if not, flattered even.

"Well, why wouldn't I? 'is not every day I get to enjoy good coffee and chat with a cute barista. "

. . .D, did he just--?

Oh....

OH!

OH MY PRIMIEJDJD-- um, Sir?? It's too early for this!

"aurgh-HEM!" You let out a rather loud cough, turning away like you're going to break a neck to prepare the ingredient... and to hide the rising flush on your cheeks.

Did I forget he has a...way with words, too? Unfortunately, you still aren't used to ... that.

"W-what can I get for you?"

You heard a low chuckle coming from behind, which you chose t̶r̶y̶ to ignore. He sat on a stool, which was facing right in front of you. "I'm feeling like taking a Double Espresso today. So, I'll have that. "

"Mhm. Cool, cool. .." You muttered, nodding and writing it down on a pad (still refusing to look back). Jazz is a variety type of mech, willing to try everything on the menu. Sometimes he will ask for something creamy, or something bitter... It really depends on what he's feeling.

Though, either way, he usually like to accompany with something sweet. Something like...

"Would you want a slice of cheesecake to go with that?"

Though you weren't looking, you could tell by the faint gasp that those words caught his attention.

"You got it on strawberry or blueberry?"

"Both."

"Then, I'll take the strawberry—"

"Okay, one slice of strawberry... "

"... 'Cause I want to taste something as sweet as you. "

.  . . . .

Dear Primus, help you.

｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡☕｡･ﾟ♡ﾟﾟﾟﾟ

An amused laugh escaped Jazz's as he watched you scurrying into the back room. He could feel his grin grow when he heard a faint sound of am embarrassed groan, barely audible but he knew it came from you. It's cruel, but just couldn't help it! It can be fun to tease you.

It's the way your face make when he pulls out some unexpected lines, ranging from a nonchalant blank face to frozen surprise 'as a deer-in-the-headlights.'

Once that amusement subsidized and the laughter died down, he sat there in comfortable silence. The soft melody of jazz music playing in the background. He takes a look at the place, eyeing every little detail. Nothing much has changed- same white accent walls, and same decor with the motivational words.( Even the one that says: Keep Calm, Fuck Shit up, courtesy from a certain red and orange speedster.) There's even the small stand where he used to do play live music. He's thinking about doing that again soon.

And most of all... same you. Same adorable you. 

"I'm back!"  Your voice snapped him out of thought, leading him to turn head and watched you push the door with your back as both arms were currently occupied carrying ingredients.

"Sorry, 'had to get a few things." You sighed as you placed the items on the counter.

You turned back to face Jazz. It seemed like you've already calmed down from his little teasing. A calm, service smile now evident on your face.

"Your order will be ready in 5 minutes. "

A low amused chuckle rumbled in his chest. "Take your time, doll. I'm not going anywhere any time soon. "

ANOTHER CRITICAL HIT! Just when you calmed down too... At least you didn't almost drop the cup (this time).

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

Comment on who you would like to meet next. They're highly appreciated!

[lizandbo]

Izuku and katsuki crushing on you hcs

katsuki

lawd have fuckin mercy💀🖐

Ohhh boy

Mans is in pure denial at first 

Like oh maybe it’s for how admirable y/n is and that’s why I get so giddy whenever I see them lmao katsuki wishes

POOR BABY DOESNT KNOW WHAT TO DO BUT LIKE… WONT GO TO ANYONE???

like he perks up so fast when he hears your name 

Or like whenever you said something you like or interested in something he tries to think about what he could do in that category of your interests

Bro I totally think he’s gonna be fucked up tho like…

After a while he comes to the conclusion he may PERHAPS semi really likes your everything about you ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

He’d get so mad at himself for acting like a ‘creepo’ even tho 99.9 of the human population has dealt with thinking and dreaming about a crush

In the worst places too

Maybe while in the shower too many times but we might not need to know that🤡

But like when y’all become friends and actually get to know each other he MIGHT ask you out

BUT BUT I HAVE A FEELING HE WOULDNT WANT TO

It’s like too embarrassing yk? And he also wants cherish the friendship he has with you:(

Sometimes he acts like an asshat but his acts of service makes up for it <3

Speaking of acts of service he would totally do shit without you even knowing 

Like putting tape/sticky note writing your name on your leftovers in the fridge so it won’t get eaten 

Making your favorite meal

Leaving your laundry folded on your bed while your out doing something

He’s petty enough to not put it in your wardrobe but alrighty

Feel like his bro Kirishima has to be his support dude yk

Always checking up on you through Kirishima 

This mans ego…. Dude idek if it can get any bigger when you talk literally anything about him

But man does he get pissy af when you talk remotely anything negative bout em

He’d have this smug look kinda like at the music festival or some shit 

like dis bad boi right here

BUT HES SO CUTE WHEN YOU CATCH HIM STARING AT YOU

which isn’t often but broooo he gets so red 

Like a damn strawberry

Or a skinned squirrel 

Who knows

Izuku

oh mah gah he’s so bad with crushes😫

Like he’s not even trying to crush on you

It just so happens to be crushing on you so hard that izuku might shit his pants whenever he sees you

He just a flustered little baby that’s all

Izuku just wants to kiss you but loses his shit whenever you go near him in a five feet radius 

Everyone knows he has a crush on you

Like it’s so fucking obvious 

Can’t hide his feelings for shit

Bros kinda a stalker ngl 

But in a good way yk

He talks to allmight about it to see if he could help 

Tries to point him in the right direction but he’s also a single as a Pringle so he don’t really know what he’s doing lol

He’s like those cheesy parents when having a ‘crush’ conversation

Later on izuku just kinda goes his own way 

He takes down notes about you

Sometimes there are really really weird shit he notices

Just the random gestures, reactions and habits makes you wonder how in the actual hell did he learn this information??

One of the seven world wonders 

Izuku himself is a world wonder💀

Anyways, he tries to accommodate your unspoken desires by small gestures 

Like warming up a towel in the dryer right before you get out of the shower

Gets gift cards for your favorite places

Hands you a water if you don’t already have a drink 

He’s just a thoughtful stalker /hj

Izuku doesn’t realize how personal his actions can be or how he mentions something that you do

He snitched on himself one too many times

It kinda made you suspect he had some feelings towards you 

And when you questioned it bro went flying

You may never see him again

[sissylittlefeather]

How the Web Was Woven: Chapter 14

A/N: I told y'all this one would be coming quickly. I can't let my babies be unhappy for too long. ICYMI: this is the soulmate/time travel AU between Elvis and a fem!reader. We pick up in 2023/1973 in a rather tense moment.

Much love always to @ccab for loving me and loving what I write. You's mah best frend.

Need to catch up? Here's my Masterlist.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, angst, alcohol use, cussing, a car accident, injury, hospital, and then the good stuff, kissing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, I think that's everything.

Word count: ~3.4K

You sit on the couch staring at each other waiting for his answer.

******

You sit in silence for a few minutes before you can't stand it anymore.

"Elvis? Did you move on?"

"I don't know."

You feel like someone stabbed you in the heart and you struggle to breathe.

"I need... something... I just... I'll be right back." You get up, grab your purse, and stumble to the door of the suite. The kids will be safe with him and your mom.

"Y/n, wait!" You hear him as you close the door quickly behind you. When you get to the lobby, there's nowhere for you to go. Instead, you head to the bar and order a glass of wine. You try to sip it slowly, but it doesn't last long, so you order another.

Back in the suite, your mom comes into the living room to find Elvis on the couch with his head in his hands.

"John?" She says it gently, trying not to startle him. He sniffs and wipes his eyes and looks up at her.

"Oh, Cynthia, I'm sorry. Did we bother you?"

"Not at all. She left, didn't she?" He nods. She sits next to him on the couch. "Do you know where she went?"

"I have an idea."

"Then why are you still sitting here?" He looks over at her suddenly.

"I really don't know." He stands up and heads towards the door. He turns back when he reaches it. "You'll-"

"I got the kids. Go."

"Thank you." He walks out the door and makes his way to the lobby.

He was right about where you would be. You're still at the bar nursing your third glass of wine. He walks up next to you and pulls out the chair.

"Anybody sitting here?" You smile a little before responding.

"No, but my husband is the jealous type." Then you look down at your drink. "Or, at least, he used to be."

"He still is." He sits next to you at the bar and you scoff. "Hey. Don't be like that."

"Like what? Like my husband doesn't love me anymore?" You drain your glass and gesture to the bartender that you want another. He can't help but be reminded of the party you went to together in 2010 and it breaks his heart.

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't not say that." He sighs deeply.

"Honey, can we just try to be happy? For the kids?" The bartender brings you your glass of wine and you turn and look at him.

"Why don't we just make a portal and send you home to Linda?"

"How do you...? Right. No, I want to spend more time with the kids."

"That's fair. I'll be nice. Then we'll get you back to your girlfriend."

"Y/n..."

"No, you know what. Don't." You take your ring off of your finger and set it on the bar in front of him. "Here. Give her that."

You drain your glass and stand up, but you've just pounded a whole bottle of wine in less than an hour, so you stumble a little and he catches you. He grabs your ring off the bar and then steadies you as you try to walk. You pull away from him and try to stand on your own.

"I'm fine. I don't need you to save me. I do things by myself all the time. Who needs a husband?"

"Y/n, you're drunk. Please let me help you." Without warning, you start to cry. He lifts you into his arms like a baby and flashes back to all the other times he's carried you like this before: when you were sad and drunk in college, when you and he finally made it home in the snowstorm, and when he carried you across the threshold of your Vegas honeymoon suite. How did you get here from there?

You cry against his chest as he takes you back up to the room. Inside the suite, your mom has gone to bed. He takes you to the room you're intended to share and settles you in the bed, removing your shoes gently. When he goes to leave and sleep on the couch, you grab his hand.

"Stay with me. Please." He's not sure if you mean tonight or forever.

"Oh, honey, I-"

"Please."

"Okay." He takes his shoes off and lays down on the other side of you. His heart feels like it's in a vice and it takes him a long time to go to sleep, even with you snoring quietly beside him.

******

The next morning, you wake up tucked up under his chin with his arm around you, just like the first night you stayed together. But this time, when you wake up, you pull away and get out of the bed. You hear the kids in the living area with your mom, so you make your way in there to them. Your mom brings you a glass of water and you sit down on the couch. John Jessie immediately asks about his dad, so you send both kids in there to wake him up. The laughter that spills from the room when they do makes you want to cry all over again.

"I'm taking the kids today." You turn to your mom.

"What? No. He's here to see them. We should let them be together."

"There's plenty of time for that tomorrow. You two need a day."

"No, mom, we really don't."

"Yes. I'd give anything for another day with your dad. I'm not letting you throw this away. Not without trying. I'm taking the kids."

And she does. She takes them to the beach and promises to be gone until dinner time. You and Elvis just stare at each other in silence.

"Do you need fried potatoes?" He knows you and how you deal with a hangover.

"Yeah, I really do."

"Come on." You head downstairs together to your rental car in silence. He agrees to drive, as always, and you head to a breakfast place you've found on your phone. As you ride, he pulls your ring out of his pocket.

"Put this back on your finger." You hear the edge to his voice and it irritates you. What does he have to be angry about?

"And if I say no?"

"Y/n, I'm not asking."

"Why the fuck would I put that back on?"

"Because you're my goddamn wife!"

"Am I?! Because you don't seem to want me to be!" He turns and looks at you and you can feel the rage rolling off of him.

"PUT THE FUCKING RING ON YOUR FINGER."

"FUCK YOU ELVIS."

"FUCK ME? FUCK ME?! I-"

He doesn't get anything else out though because he's taken his eyes off the road and completely misses the red light. The other car collides with yours on your side and you skid across the intersection as the sickening crunch of metal on metal rings through you both. Time seems to slow down as you're thrown around inside the vehicle. Everything goes black.

******

When Elvis comes to, someone else has called 911 and the emergency personnel move around quickly, hollering to each other as they work.

"Sir? He's regained consciousness." He's strapped to a gurney and they're loading him into an ambulance. When he realizes what's happened, he immediately tries to sit up.

"My wife-"

"They're extracting her from the car. They'll meet us at the hospital." He tries to get off the gurney.

"No. I'm not leaving her. Extract her? Is she okay?"

"Sir, calm down-"

"Calm down?! WHERE IS MY WIFE?!" They close the doors to the ambulance and give him an injection of something to calm him down. He drifts off into a kind of twilight sleep again.

The next time he wakes up, he's in the hospital. He sits up suddenly and goes to get out of the bed. The nurses rush in to settle him, but he won't be settled. He yells at anyone who will listen that he needs to find you.

Finally, the doctor comes in as he's trying to rip his IV out.

"Mr. Burrows, you have to stop. We will take you to your wife, but you need to calm down first." He sits down on the edge of the bed breathing heavily.

"Where is she?"

"She's been admitted."

"Admitted? No. That means-"

"They're running some tests right now, but she still hasn't woken up."

"No. No no no." He collapses on his knees beside the bed and weeps. The doctor is deeply affected, but helps him back onto the bed. He has the nurses remove Elvis's IV and monitors and helps him get dressed.

"Let's go see her." Elvis nods weakly and the doctor leads him to your room.

When he sees you in the bed, he falls to his knees again and rocks back and forth crying. The doctor helps him into the chair next to your bed. Elvis holds your hand and presses it to his lips.

"God, honey, I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry. Please wake up." You don't, not yet, but he wills you to open your eyes.

The doctor has seen a lot of trauma and a lot of broken husbands. But something about the way Elvis weeps hits him differently. He leaves you alone together.

"Please, honey." Elvis kisses your hand over and over, begging you to wake up. "I can't do this without you. God, I love you so much. Please don't leave me."

You lay in the bed not moving with the monitors beeping quietly. And he sits beside you, praying desperately to God that you wake up soon.

******

Elvis calls your mom to check on the kids and let her know what's happened. She's dying to come to you, but she knows someone has to watch the kids and he's in no position to do it. Besides, there's no way he'd ever leave you.

The doctor eventually comes back with the results of your tests. You have a very small brain bleed that they're hoping will resolve itself soon. They're not exactly sure why you haven't woken up yet. Elvis assumes it's his fault and spends the hours while you sleep beating himself up for hurting you, both physically and emotionally. There's not a single doubt in his mind anymore that he loves you and wants to be married to you. Almost losing you is killing him and he wants nothing more than to take you in his arms and love you the way he always has. He stays by your side through the rest of the day, not even leaving to eat, and settles in for a night watch.

Finally, around 3:30am, you stir a little. He sits up and watches you carefully. Your eyes flutter open and he's overwhelmed with emotion.

"Elvis?" You whisper quietly.

"Oh God, y/n, I-"

"Shhh... it's okay."

"No it's not, honey. It's not okay at all. I'm so sorry. For everything."

"This wasn't your fault."

"Yes, it was, but I mean even more than that." He kisses the back of your hand again. "I love you so much, baby. I love you with all of me and I can't believe I ever thought I could be without you."

He moves a piece of your hair off of your face and runs his fingertips down the side of your cheek.

"You still love me?" You ask quietly, voice quavering.

"God, honey, yes. You are the love of my life." You smile, your eyes watery, and nod gently. He climbs into the bed next to you and holds you close to him.

"I'm yours, y/n. Forever."

******

They release you from the hospital a couple of days later with instructions to rest for three weeks before you fly home. You obviously can't afford to stay in the hotel for three weeks, so you find some small bungalows on the beach and rent one for you and Elvis and one for your mom and the kids. The doctor said you need to rest, so he recommends the kids stay with your mom, especially in the beginning.

Elvis is the perfect caretaker. He keeps you fed and hydrated and entertained and makes you sleep and rest to heal.

At the end of the first week, you find yourselves on the couch together. He's watching a movie on tv and you're scrolling on your phone. You roll over a sexy edit of Elvis on Instagram and accidentally turn the sound on. The song is dirty and it gets his attention before you can mute it.

"Honey, what are you watching?"

"Nothing!" You answer quickly, really hoping he doesn't press the issue. But he can tell you're hiding something and the curiosity gets the better of him.

"What is it? Just show me." You get a strange look on your face and now he's determined to see what you were looking at.

"No!" You giggle and he crawls toward you on the couch. "No! No!"

You try to push him away with your feet and he moves them out of the way to crawl between them and up your body to reach for your phone. He's on top of you now, trying to grab your phone. You move it around over your head and try to use your other hand to keep him from getting it. In the process of moving your phone out of his reach, you turn the sound up and accidentally click on the edit again. The song plays and when you bring your phone back down to turn it off, he snatches it and looks at the screen, still in his position between your legs.

It's a sexy edit of him shirtless and wet in the movie Fun in Acapulco. You bury your face in your hands and blush a deep red. He watches it and then looks at you surprised. Then, he busts out laughing and looks back at the phone.

"Is this what you're into, honey? I guess I should be glad it's me."

"Oh my goddddddd." You want to melt into the couch.

"Mike Windgren, though? That movie is terrible. Honey, what is this?"

"It's a TikTok." You answer from behind your hands.

"Are they all videos of Mike?" You pop your face up and laugh.

"Oh, no! They have them for all of your movie characters. And just for, like, you..."

"I wanna see."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do! Show me!" You reluctantly open TikTok and go to your saved videos. You hand him your phone and cover your face again. He scrolls through them and laughs. A few of them make him blush, though. He stumbles upon one of him from the Aloha concert and is amazed. You realize what's happening and try to wrestle the phone back away from him. He holds you at arms length and laughs while you play fight your way up him. Eventually, he stands up and holds the phone behind his back. You stand up and face him.

"Honey, you know, you don't have to watch those. I'm right here. You could just turn on some sexy music and look at me."

"Oh, shut up!" You say, blushing. But then you look up at him. And he looks down at you, energy gathering in the space between your bodies. He puts his hand on the side of your face and runs his thumb over your lips. You can tell he wants to kiss you, but it's been so long that he's not sure if he can. Slowly, he leans in and presses his lips to yours. He might look older than the first time, but his kiss is the same and you melt into him like butter.

You walk backwards to your bedroom, shedding clothing as you go, mouths still smashed together. When you get to the bed, you're both naked, but before he lays you down, he steps back and looks at you. He reaches a hand out to caress your breast and run his thumb over your nipple.

"God, y/n, you're such a beautiful woman."

"I figured I was getting too old for you."

"Never."

"I wasn't even sure you wanted me anymore. Not like this."

"Honey, I will always want you." With that, he lays you down on the bed gently and begins to explore your body with his mouth. You've done it so many times, but something about this feels new and sacred. He kisses every part of you and the sensation of his hot mouth on your skin makes you drip with need.

He finally makes his way to your center and presses a kiss to you between your legs. Then, he begins to move his tongue on you just how he knows you like it. He could be with a thousand women and still remember your body and the way you taste and feel. This is everything you've both been missing and he licks you like his life depends on it. The overwhelming sensation of pleasure courses through you as he moves his tongue over and around your sensitive bud. He slides a finger into you and feels how your body reacts. Suddenly, everything else melts away and there's only you and him and the love he's making to you. You feel the coil of your orgasm tightening and know you won't last much longer. He can tell you're close too and he ramps up the movements of his tongue. Finally, the dam breaks and your release rushes through you in wave after wave of ecstasy. He tongues you through the high and when you come back down he pulls away sighing.

"I love the way you feel when you come, baby."

"Mmmm... now it's your turn." You respond breathlessly. He climbs up your body and lines himself up with your entrance, teasing you with his tip.

"I've waited so long to make love to you, y/n." He pushes into you slowly, letting you feel every inch of his cock. A soft moan escapes your lips and he groans. "The sounds you make... mmmm baby, you make me crazy."

He starts to slide in and out of you in a gentle rhythm, hitting all the best places inside you, kissing your neck sensually. He moves gracefully on top of you and you want to cry it feels so good.

"I've missed you so much, baby." He sets his head on your shoulder as he fucks you in the gentlest way you've experienced since the night he proposed. This feels like a kind of renewal of your vows and he moans into your mouth as he kisses you deeply.

He starts to thrust a little faster, but never changes the gentle pattern of sliding in and out of you. Your walls begin to flutter around him and he groans, knowing that the end is coming for both of you. He fills you fully with each movement as his speed increases.

"Fuck, Elvis, it's so good."

"It is, baby, it really is." He rolls you over on your side and positions your leg over his hip. The gentle thrusting doesn't change, but the intimacy seems to increase as he looks into your eyes and peppers you with kisses. His cock slides in and out rhythmically and he grunts with the nearness of his climax. He whispers between kisses as he pushes in and out.

"I love you, y/n. This is a new beginning for us. And I'm making a promise to you. I will never question us ever again. You are the one who my soul loves. We are everything."

He thrusts gently a few more times as he holds your hip and moves ever closer to his release. The tears that slide down your cheeks are happy ones and you press your forehead to his and he whispers again.

"I belong to you and you alone, y/n." He kisses you passionately and pushes into you one more time.

"God, yes, Elvis!" You cry out as you tumble together into the sea of your orgasm, the waves crashing over you in a tender expression of your love. He holds you there shuddering and pumping weakly until he comes back down to earth. You lay there looking at each other, basking in the rediscovery of your love.

"I will love you until the end of time. And if you're ever gone again, I will wait for you." You put your hand on his cheek and kiss the end of his nose, unable to speak, but the vulnerable gesture says everything you'd say with words.

You lay there together for a long time, just taking each other in and reveling in the shared pleasure of the experience.

A portal appears and you don't even acknowledge it. You're both too wrapped in the web of each other to notice anything beyond the boundaries of your intertwined bodies.

******

Until next time...

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

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