#of course this could change and I could feel a sudden burst of energy to draw them again

[sulfadimethoxine]

Chica y moondrop

[fortheb0ys]

Just thinking of cumming in Soap numerous times. You're tired, nearly falling asleep. He's crying his face a complete mess. Cum's leaking out of his ass and the base of your cock soaked it in.

You had already been tired from your schedule being taken up by training the rookies. Relaxing with your boyfriend and going to bed early was your plans for the evening but not Soap's.

No, his plans was to be fucked stupid for hours.

Now he's riding you as your eyes flutter, trying your damn hardest to stay awake. He's getting desperate, chasing a far high.

He wants another round. Getting tire was something Soap wasn't going to be for long time. He'd cum more times than you could count and with little down time he'd start right back up again which is an instance like right now.

Soap had just came for the fifth time and you three. You're extremely exhausted and Soap quite the opposite. He could go on for another two hours but you were ready to call it a night.

He bounces vigorously with a pout adorned on his face, frustrated at your lack of effort. His orgasm was so close. All he needed was your hands all over him. To bite, pinch, grope, anything. No, all he got was lazy squeezes on his waist. Your tired fingers weren't enough to bruise him.

Noticing Soap's disappointed attitude, you try to engage with his wants. You'd massage his sides, grip his waist to slam him down on your cock. Just to stop when you became tired once again.

You're both dirty, covered in cum and all you wanted to do was fall asleep with Soap in your arms.

"Come on, baby. Need ta cum again. Just this once, please." Soap would beg as tear pooled in his eyes.

You look at the pout on his face as tears stream down his cheek. A new found energy courses through you. With all the strength you can muster, you flip Soap onto his back and begin slamming into him.

"Johnny, one last time and you let me sleep. Deal?" You snarl, making it clear that it WAS going to be the last one.

Soap nodded, slightly scared how quickly you changed your demeanor. You pulled his knees back till they touch his shoulder. Soap face twists to discomfort than to pleasure as thrust into him without warning.

You were going at it hard and fast, wanting to quickly get things done. Even with the sudden burst of energy you weren't sure how long it would last.

Rythm was no where to be found as you continue to fuck hard into him. Words tumble out of Soap's mouth in incoherent babbles. His velvet walls constrict around you.

You hit deep inside him in this position. He can feel you rearranging his guts. He places his palm on his lower belly, the tip of your cock pushing against it with each thrust. The feeling sends him into the stars, his vision blurry.

With a final thrust, you both come undone.

He got what he wanted though now it feels all too much. His spend cock sits between his folded legs, pathetically weeping out the last few drops of cum.

Pulling out of his gaping hole, Soap whimpers at the lost. You turn to your side tired and finally able to sleep. Your eyes feel like lead and your cock aches.

"Ask again and I'm sending you downstairs with a dildo and I'm locking the door."

With that Soap finally stills for the next, eyes closing as he pulls you close.

This was sitting in my drafts idk if it's any good, I didn't proofread it🤷‍♂️

[hunkpossession0]

I AM A SWIMMER NOW I GUESS

Saw this hot hunk at the beach today, that wetsuit made my boner start growing. Now I’m in his body, and I can’t believe my luck.

It all started this morning when I decided to hit the beach. I was feeling restless, yearning for a change, something exciting to break the monotony of my everyday life. As soon as I arrived, I saw him. Towering over everyone, his broad shoulders and chiseled chest were perfectly defined through the tight, black wetsuit clinging to his muscular frame. His short hair glistened in the sun, and every movement he made was a display of pure, effortless power.

I couldn’t take my eyes off him. As he waded into the water, the way his wetsuit accentuated every muscle and curve of his body made my heart race and, to be honest, made my boner start growing. I knew I had to find a way to get closer.

As he emerged from the water streaming off his perfect physique, I felt a burning desire to be him. The intensity of this longing was unlike anything I had ever experienced. I watched him check his watch, noting the impressive times from his swim. This guy was dedicated, and his hard work had clearly paid off.

Fueled by envy and desire, I followed him discreetly as he walked along the beach. He seemed to be in his own world, confident and relaxed. I felt a strange, overwhelming sensation, and before I knew it, I was standing right behind him, feeling a surge of power and an inexplicable connection.

With a sudden burst of energy, I grabbed his shoulder. He turned around, eyes widening in surprise. Before he could react, I focused all my thoughts and desires into one single point, imagining myself as him. The world seemed to shift and blur for a moment.

When my vision cleared, I was looking down at a different perspective. I glanced at my hands—his hands—strong and tanned. I ran my fingers over the wetsuit, feeling the tight material against my skin, my new skin. I had done it. I was in his body.

I walked towards the water, feeling the power in each step. My new muscles rippled under the wetsuit, and I reveled in the sensation of being so strong, so alive. The beach seemed different from this vantage point, people’s eyes on me, admiration, and envy clear in their gazes.

After an hour or so, I took a break, sitting on the beach and marveling at my new form. I noticed a watch on my wrist, the kind swimmers use to track their training times. Curiously, I checked it. His – my – times were impressive. No wonder he had such an incredible physique; this guy was dedicated, and his training was clearly paying off.

I couldn’t help but run my hands over my new body, feeling the hard muscles under the wetsuit. The sensation was intoxicating. Every touch sent shivers of pleasure down my spine. I looked down at the bulge in the wetsuit, now mine, and felt a thrill unlike any other. This body was pure sex appeal, and I could feel the raw, physical power coursing through every inch of me.

But then, a shadow fell over me. I looked up to see the original owner of the body, now in my old, ordinary form, staring down at me with a mixture of anger and confusion.

“What did you do?” he demanded, his voice trembling with rage.

Panic surged through me. I hadn’t thought this far ahead. I had stolen his body, but what was I supposed to do now?

“Look, I…” I began, but he cut me off.

“You think you can just steal my life?” he yelled. “You’re going to regret this!”

Before I could respond, he lunged at me. Despite being in his former, less impressive body, he tackled me to the ground with surprising strength. We wrestled in the sand, but I quickly overpowered him, my new muscles easily subduing him.

People started to gather, watching the commotion. I had to think fast.

“This guy’s crazy,” I shouted to the onlookers. “He attacked me out of nowhere!”

A couple of beachgoers pulled him off me, holding him back as he struggled and shouted. I backed away, still trying to wrap my head around what had just happened.

As they dragged him away, his eyes locked onto mine, a promise of retribution clear in his glare. I knew this wasn’t over, but for now, I had won. I was the hunk in the wetsuit, the center of attention, the one everyone admired.

I had to be careful, though. I had taken his body, but it hadn’t accounted for the consequences. For now, I would enjoy my new life, but I knew I had to find a way to secure it permanently, to make sure I stayed in this perfect body without the risk of losing it.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, I walked back towards the water, feeling the cool waves lap against my feet. I was determined to make the most of this opportunity, no matter what it took.

I had stolen the swimmer’s body, and I wasn’t about to let it go. Every flex, every move in the tight wetsuit was a reminder of what I had gained. I leaned back, a smile spreading across my face as I whispered to myself, "Haha, now you are mine."

[secretlocket]

chris and sunshine!reader cross paths for the first time.

the sun beamed brightly over disneyland, adding on to the theme park’s cheery atmosphere. the air buzzed with laughter and the scent of churros.

you had pulled off the ultimate surprise for the three girls you babysit from time to time, bringing them to the happiest place on earth a week before school started, the perfect way to wrap up their summer vacation. their excitement was contagious, especially elise, the youngest sister, who gasped loudly and tugged on your hand at nearly everything she saw.

you smiled as you took note of the wide grins on the girls’ faces, feeling a burst of sentiment and happiness seeing them enjoy themselves.

there’s fifteen year old rae, the eldest, had been the hardest to win over. at first, she’d been skeptical of your relentless positivity, brushing off your efforts with curt nods and the occasional eye roll. but time and consistency had changed that. you never pushed too hard, never pried, but you always showed up—whether it was helping rae study for her history test or sitting with her during a rough day. slowly, her walls began to come down. she started opening up, laughing at your jokes, even seeking your advice when life felt overwhelming.

and ten year old willow who’s the opposite. a quiet, creative soul, she’d clung to you almost immediately, drawn to your warm, sunny energy. willow loved to draw, often sketching little pictures to give to you as thank you gifts. she has a thoughtful, observant nature, always looking out for her sisters and sometimes even for you, despite her young age.

and of course, elise, the five year old firecracker. energetic, curious, and endlessly talkative, she’s the heart of the group, always keeping everyone on their toes. elise adores you unconditionally, often declaring, “you’re the bestest babysitter we’ve ever had!” before skipping off to her next adventure. her excitement for life is pretty contagious, and her laugh could brighten even the dreariest days.

“alright girls, one more ride before lunch,” you said, holding up the park map and glancing at the three sisters. “what’re we thinkin’? tea cups? maybe pirates of the caribbean?”

“i’m fine with whatever,” rae said nonchalantly, though her eyes flicked toward the matterhorn before darting down back to her phone screen.

“tea cups are cool,” willow offered, adjusting her minnie ears. “but i kinda wanna go on the peter pan one.”

“let’s go on the merry go round!” elise exclaimed, spinning around dramatically before latching onto you leg. “it’s right there!”

you laughed, already accustomed to the kindergartener’s bursts of enthusiasm, and opened her mouth to respond when she suddenly gasped.

“MINNIE MOUSE!”

her shout turned a few heads, but elise didn’t care. her wide eyes were locked on the minnie figure, who was strolling just ahead, waving to parkgoers and posing for photos. “we have to take a picture! all of us!” elise declared, tugging on your hand with a force that nearly pulled her off balance.

as you and the girls gathered the photo with the mouse, a sudden realization hit you—you hadn’t thought about needing someone to actually take the picture. you looked around, a little frantic, trying to spot anyone who might be willing to help. elise, bouncing on the spot, tugged at you arm.

“come on, y/n, let’s hurry! minnie’s going to leave any second!” she squealed, her wide eyes never leaving the character.

willow looked around, trying to scan the crowd for anyone free. rae, clearly growing frustrated, let out a sigh. “i swear, something is always happening,” she muttered, crossing her arms and looking at the ground in annoyance.

ignoring the teen’s pessimism, you looked around again. it seemed like everyone was either already in a group or too busy to help. “okay girls, we’re going to have to ask someone…” you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

rae rolled her eyes. “yeah, obviously,” she grumbled.

just as the tension in the group started to rise, a voice cut through the noise of the park. “—i can help you guys if you want?”

you whipped around, surprised to hear someone offering so casually. standing there was a boy who looked around your age; messy brunette hair and blue eyes, sporting casual denim shorts and a graphic tee: his stance was pretty friendly, and to the side of him was two other boys who mirrored his exact features—triplets. you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t find them to be cute, especially the one that offered to help.

you smiled back, relieved. “oh—yeah! thank you, that’d mean so much to us.”

you handed him your phone without a second thought, but the moment your hands brushed, you felt an unexpected jolt shoot up your arm. your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly pulled your hand away, hoping he hadn’t noticed your flustered move.

focus, focus, you told yourself, trying to keep it together, but your mind was still on how cute he was.

rae, who had been watching the entire exchange with a keen eye, suddenly froze. her gaze flickered between you and the guy in front of them. “wait,” she said, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “t-that’s chris sturniolo! oh my god, the sturniolo triplets are literally here right now…”

willow, confused, scrunched her face up as if she popped a sour patch kid into her mouth. “who?”

rae’s eyes widened in disbelief. she immediately tried to play it cool, but the flush creeping up her neck gave her away. “it’s nothing, just—he’s, um, popular on youtube and tiktok. the sturniolo triplets. you know, from the videos i watch?”

as chris lined up the shot, his easygoing yet friendly demeanor only made your heart race a little more. there was something effortlessly attractive about him, the way he was engaging with the girls, making them laugh. he was down to earth, but still had that pull that made her feel a little flustered.

chris snapped the photo, then turned back to you, handing her the phone with a smile. “got it. took three just in case.”

you took the phone, smiling in return. “thanks so much,” you said, the words coming out a little more breathless than she expected.

“s’no problem at all, you guys enjoy the rest of your day!” he waved before turning to walk off with his brothers.

you stood there, your pulse still a little elevated from the brief interaction. the girls were already excitedly looking at the picture on your phone, but you found yourself glancing back at chris, who’s gaze lingered on you one last time as he walked away.

something about him stuck with you. and you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d get another chance to talk to him.

messages from brie 🗯️ : was listening to espresso while writing this up, i don’t think i’ll ever get tired of that song 🙂‍↔️

also, gonna be serious for a second: if you don’t give credit—whether it’s for my about me layout or moodboard layout, i will block you and i will block you fast. i already have two blogs on here blocked for copying my layouts without permission. & if you’re take inspiration from my ideas, aus and all, at least switch it up a bit. i’m not saying this to be rude but cmonnnn.

✷ tags : @et6rnalsun @eternaldecisions @freshloveee @lov3bug @cosmicanakin @cupiidk1lls @marrykisskilled @lovevxle

[jihyoruri]

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ COME BACK TO ME(PLEASE ) kim minji x reader

↳ warnings this takes place during ditto era, minji is down bad, 6th member reader

minji stood frozen, her gaze locked on the ethereal girl as she glided past without stopping. every movement seemed choreographed, every step a graceful dance. time seemed to slow as minji drank in the girl's beauty—a beauty so unique, it made minji question her own perception of the word beauty. 

it was the kind of beauty that transcended mere physical appearance, captivating minji’s senses and leaving her speechless and then that specific feeling started creeping upon minji.

regret.

the feeling of realizing you messed up the best thing that could ever happen to you.

yeah, that’s what she was feeling right now.

"oh no, don't give me that look," minji turned to hanni, who shot her a scolding glance. "you broke up with her, bro. don’t act all heartbroken just because your ego got in the way."

minji’s shoulders sagged under Hanni's sharp gaze, her expression a mix of regret and frustration. "I know, I know," she muttered, “she’s just so pretty.”

minji couldn't fathom why their ceo thought it was a stroke of genius to add yn to the group after pitting her and yn against each other the entire time. It felt like a cruel joke, especially considering the rule of having only "five people" for debut for the group only to suddenly change course and introduce yn months after their debut dropped. the decision felt like a slap in the face.

like everything she did was for nothing, like letting yn go was for nothing, being an asshole was all for nothing.

“she is.” hanni  responded with no remorse, not even flinching at minji’s glare, “and I don’t know what you were thinking.” she says rubbing salt into the wound causing minji to groan and throw her head back.

"I don't know what I was thinking either," minji whispered to herself, the weight of her own words echoing in the quiet of the room. 

with a heavy sigh, she pushed herself up from the couch, a weariness settling over her like a heavy blanket. "I'm gonna go lay down," she muttered as she trudged away, her steps heavy with the burden of her thoughts.

"don’t forget we're all meeting back in the living room in an hour to watch ditto drop!" hanni’s voice called after minji, her words giving a burst of energy that clashed with minji’s mood. but minji was already disappearing down the hallway, her groan serving as a half-hearted response to hanni’s reminder.

minji kept her gaze fixed on the floor as she made her way down the hall to her room, lost in her thoughts and oblivious to the figure approaching that makes their way down to opposite side of the hall with a bag of caramel popcorn in their hands, with a sudden collision, their bodies collided, eliciting a yelp from both parties involved.

startled , minji looked up, her breath catching in her throat as her eyes met yn’s. time seemed to stand still as they locked gazes, minji momentarily forgetting how to breathe in the presence of the girl.

while the girl stuffs an handful the popcorn she already had in her hand in her mouth while clutching the bag in her other.

minji observed yn’s awkward attempt to slowly chew the sweet popcorn, her mind racing faster than her mouth could keep up. "you're still obsessed with caramel popcorn?" she blurted out, the words tumbling from her lips before she could fully process them.

yn’s eyes flicked up to meet minji’s, a hint of sheepishness coloring her expression as she swallowed the popcorn. "yeah," she admitted but immediately hardening up, “that doesn’t matter though, since nothing about me matters.” she responds quoting the older girls words causing minji to cringe.

“yn-“

"I really don't want to hear it," yn interjected quietly, cutting off minji’s attempt to speak. "you said what you had to say already," she added, her tone tinged with a hint of vulnerability before turning and walking down the hall.

minji hand instinctively reached out as if to stop her, but she hesitated, the weight of yn’s words settling heavily in her chest. With a resigned sigh, minji let her hand fall back to her side, watching silently as yn disappeared from view, the distance between them feeling wider than ever before.

she felt the weight in her chest get heavier as she turned around and headed to her room, being around yn has been so hard, the more she interacts with the girl the more she feels like she’s going to explode in tears.

minji lets herself sink into her bed and closes her eyes letting her guilty tears fall, she pulls her blanket over her and lets sleep slowly take over.

and just as she closes her eyes she opens them, when she feels an excited hyein open the door of the room, minji looks at the time, it’s been an hour since she fell asleep.

“minji unnie, get up!”the younger yells, “we have two minutes.” she says before running out the room

minji stares at the ceiling before letting out a sigh and dragging herself out of her bed, she makes her way out her room and she immediately here’s the loud noises of her members.

despite her reluctance, minji knew she couldn't stay holed up in her room forever. with a resigned sigh, she squared her shoulders and began to make her way towards the source of the commotion, steeling herself for whatever awaited her on the other side.

as soon as she walks into the living room she’s met with danielle’s of hurry’s.

minji can’t help but smile at the girls contagious excitement, but that smile immediately disappears when she sees that only spot open is the one beside yn who hasn’t looked up from her bowl of caramel popcorn since minji entered the room.

taking a deep breath to steel herself, minji forced a shaky smile and approached the couch, taking the seat beside yn.

the air between them felt charged with tension, a silent barrier that seemed to loom larger with each passing moment. despite her best efforts to ignore it, minji couldn't shake that feeling she got in her chest around yn.

she opened her mouth to whisper a greeting but was cut off by the greeting and of the other girls as the countdown started.

she played with her fingers as the screams got louder when the music video started, she couldn’t help but smile at the music video, especially the scenes where it was just her and yn, she remembers how nervous she was when the director told her that her and yn will have multiple parts alone together, the filming was so awkward but seeing how nice it tuned out made her warm inside.

feeling a gentle nudge, minji turned to look at yn, who had her eyes fixed on the music video playing on the screen. furrowing her eyebrows in confusion, minji followed yn’s gaze down to the bowl of caramel popcorn nestled between them. 

A soft smile tugged at the corners of minji’s lips as she realized yn’s subtle invitation to share the snack.

minji reached out and scooped up a handful of the sweet and salty treat, the warmth of yn’s gesture washing over her like a comforting embrace. 

as she popped a kernel into her mouth, minji couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope flicker within her, a silent reassurance that perhaps, despite the distance that had grown between them, there was still a chance for reconciliation.

once the music video finished all the girls got up, they all agreed to make cookies after watching the music video, minji watched as they made their way around the corner to the kitchen, their conversation buzzing about the music video.

hanni shot minji an encouraging look before nodding to yn who still at bedside minji with her face in her phone probably texting her family members about the music video, she then turned the corner and made her way to the kitchen like the rest of the girls.

minji swallowed nervously, the lump in her throat betraying the turmoil of emotions swirling within her. "Um, yn?" she began tentatively, her voice barely above a whisper amidst the din of the room.

yn finally tore her gaze away from the screen of her phone, turning to look at minji with a raised eyebrow, a silent question lingering in her eyes. the weight of their unspoken tension hung heavy in the air, casting a palpable unease over their interaction.

minji took a deep breath, summoning the courage to voice the words that had been weighing on her mind. "I... I just wanted to say... I'm sorry," she stammered, her voice trembling with the raw vulnerability of her confession. "For everything."

"I... I don't know what I was thinking," minji continued, her voice cracking with emotion. "the pressure of debuting was just so high, and the fact that it was either me or you getting kicked out of the lineup made everything worse." She paused, her words hanging heavy in the air as she struggled to articulate the depth of her remorse.

"I let my fear and insecurity cloud my judgment," minji confessed, her gaze dropping to her hands as she fidgeted nervously with her fingers. 

“But that's no excuse for how I treated you. You didn't deserve that, and I'm truly sorry for hurting you, I don’t even know how I even thought of hurting someone I love so much, I need you to know that ever since that day all I’ve wanted was you back.”

the weight of her confession hung between them, the silence stretching taut with the unspoken hope for forgiveness. minji heart pounded in her chest, her pulse echoing in her ears as she waited with bated breath for yn’s response.

"the pressure was pretty high, huh?" yn echoed softly, her tone tinged with a mixture of understanding and resignation. she sighed, her gaze flickering briefly to the bustling activity in the other room before returning to minji’s troubled expression.

"I get it," yn admitted, her voice carrying a weight of shared experience. "we were all under immense pressure, and it's easy to let it get the best of us." she reached out, laying a gentle hand on minji arm, a silent gesture of solidarity. "but that doesn't excuse what happened between us."

there was a quiet intensity in yn’s gaze as she locked eyes with minji, a silent plea for honesty and accountability. "I appreciate your apology," she said softly, her words carrying a note of sincerity. "but apologies alone won't mend what's broken.”

minji felt her chest sink and it was obvious that yn could see it in her eyes, “I do see us together minji I really do, but let’s do this slowly.”

minji nodded, her throat tight with unspoken words. despite the ache of longing that pulsed within her, she knew that yn was right. rebuilding what they once had would take time and patience, a delicate process that couldn't be rushed.

"Okay," minji murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "I understand, I’ll do anything to fix this, I’m kinda obsessed with you.”

yn laughed and pressed a soft kiss to minji’s cheek, “yeah, it’s obvious.” obvious she teases before getting up from the couch and reaching out her hand towards minji, “lets go help with the cookies.”

minji couldn’t contain the smile that broke out on her face as she interlocked her hand with yn’s letting the girl drag her towards the kitchen.

she looks at yn and is completely mesmerized and just like always her mouth is faster than her mind, “you looked amazing in the music video, best way to make your official debut.”

“oh, shut up.”

[endursent]

- Opened doors

【 content; sunday x reader , astral express sunday , cockwarming (sunday giving) , anal sex , comforting , halovian biological headcanons , penis haver!reader , NSFW 】

【 note; this is for the penis havers and wanters out there of any gender. stay strong in the perpetual drought of reader-insert fics dedicated to you, you're stronger than any troops. can of course be enjoyed by anyone, as usual no gender nor appearance described. 】

【 word count; 2.450 | read on ao3 】

You had barely started and Sunday was already digging his fingernails into your sides—whether in protest or pleasure wasn’t clear by the action alone. He was so still and stiff you wondered if he had changed his mind. 

  “Sunday, if this is too much, we can—“ 

  “No—it’s fine, i-it’s fine,” his words aren’t very convincing, mumbled and stuttering as they are, so you try again. 

  “I can finish tending to your wings first, then we can do this,” it was slightly your own fault, you had offered him a seat while you go through his thinning wings to remove any feathers that have loosened but cling stubbornly to the ones around it… and Sunday is having a hard time already, giving him options isn’t the brightest idea right now while he’s adjusting. 

  He frowns slightly, chin on your left shoulder as his fingers stop clenching your poor skin and he instead wraps his arms around your torso, holding firmly. “No…”

  It’s impossible to read his thoughts on a normal day, and you expected it to be easier today—this isn’t your first time helping him through moulting, it takes several weeks to complete the process for adult Halovians and you’ve helped him through it once before… though it took some convincing to let you help. 

  Sunday is stubborn and reclusive, though he’s less avoidant now after so long with the Astral Express… he learned the hard way that trying to ignore or avoid certain members only makes them more persistent and determined, it’s still a great effort to get him to accept help. Not because he doesn’t want it—he does, so badly—but because he neither wants to take your time nor waste it on something he could do by himself and has always done.

  Unfortunately for him, you need to know his thoughts to help. “Hm, well, I won’t start until I know you feel well enough for it,” your own hands resting on his hips clap his skin lightly, just enough for a small smacking sound to snap in the air. 

  Instantly, he straightens as if a sudden burst of energy knocked him on the forehead, his golden eyes squint at you with the greatest offence he has shown. “What must I do—to prove it to you?”

  Almost as if defiantly, he clenches even further around you—he’s been holding on tightly already—and nearly forces a groan from your throat. He’s so damn warm, inside and out. It’s a dangerous combo, to have him warming your dick, and giving you that defiant look at the same time… you almost give in. Almost. 

  But you don’t particularly feel like having him pass out on you from the feeling of having his wings touched as thoroughly as you will as well as the intensity of cockwarming you at the same time. You prefer to have him aware and enjoying it just as much as you are. 

  “How about naming every world in the Tiberius system backwards?” 

  His wings twitch in agitation. “That—that’s not even a real star system.”

  “Yes it is,” you insist. “I read about it.”

  “Then why don’t you name them and—stop stalling?” he says, voice tinged with annoyance and impatience. 

  A smile spreads on your lips. “I’ll get started then.”

  He clicks his tongue in frustration. You didn’t want him to name anything—if Sunday had started blabbering some made-up names to get you to start and stop talking in desperation, you would have known he wasn’t in the position to do this. 

  Sometimes, you do like to use the perfectly functional brain between your ears. 

  His wings itch and ache, a dull throb that isn’t particularly bad during daytime when he’s out and about—but as soon as he takes his coat off, it intensifies until he massages for a long enough time or puts a salve between the feathers.

  As soon as your hands leave his sides—the assured hold that’s been anchoring him since he sank down onto your stiff length—he almost feels off-balance, but it’s quickly rectified once your fingers touch his wings and he whimpers at the touch. You had barely slid your thumb under the ridge of his left wing and between the first two feathers, and he was already twitching and shifting subtly, causing your touch to falter as his hips moved just little bit and you almost give in to the desire to snap your hips upwards, but rein in every single thought and willpower you can muster. 

  Maybe this is going to be harder for you than it will be for him. 

  Swallowing thickly and continuing despite your extremely distracting throbbing inside of his hole, you carefully and firmly—but gently of course—nudge and press against the sensitive feathers of his wings. You comb two out and the base of his wings appear thinner, your fingers brush by feathers that are emerging and they feel impossibly soft and delicate. 

  Halovian wings are sensitive—but they’re not necessarily stimulating, having them touched tickles at most, yet during a moulting when the flesh and feathers are so fresh and vulnerable, it somehow amplifies the feelings fivefold and can promote certain feelings of pleasure. 

  Sunday’s eyes flutter closed, eyelashes equally soft as his wings as they brush against his cheeks and he leans into your touch instinctively. “Mmh… wait, go back—there, again… just a little…” 

  You follow any instructions he gives, despite the way your heart races with every movement he makes the slightest movement, with the way his expression contorts into comfort and a focus on himself—where he can only feel the overwhelming touches and barely has room to consider your presence outside of the way you stretch him with a mild, twitching burn. 

  Releasing one wing to reach for the oils he had prepared on the bedside table next to you, Sunday peers his eyes open, but closes them again when he sees why you stopped. 

  Outside of the now two times you’ve done this, you don’t generally touch Sunday’s wings… mostly because touching them—or stroking them specifically is an intimate act that despite your relationship (that has never quite been defined, as he finds an escape at the mention of it) he’s been hesitant about letting you do. And you’re not one to be pushy if he feels uncomfortable, a step forward can quickly become two steps backwards if you push too hard. 

  But despite the difficulty of navigating this delicate companionship… you find it to be worth the hassle, after all, having his slim—though a bit boney lately, the moulting requires a lot of energy and nutrition to sustain itself, and you imagine he hasn’t taken the best care of himself that he could—body pressed to yours, his soft whimpers and breaths trembling with every press of your fingers as you carefully massage the sore appendages. Your own cock is buried deep within him, throbbing desperately for movement that takes half your focus to suppress, while his twitches stiffly between your stomachs, now leaking slightly against your skin as a feather that was half-loose detaches when you nudge it only slightly. 

  Sunday’s lips part as your finger touches the area where the feather just fell, and you feel a deep urge to kiss him, to slide your tongue between his open lips and feel the sounds he makes instead of just hearing them. But you fear that might completely overwhelm him to a point it might make him dizzy. You will have plenty of opportunities to kiss him later. 

  The oils both are both cooling and soothing, helping ease the ache that comes with the development and lowering of new feathers. It’s always a bit funny to see how his wings get shorter and thinner, like a baby bird, before they grow again into the expressive appendages that you love so much. 

  “Sometimes,” you start talking and Sunday’s eyebrow twitches, brought out of his thoughts and focus. “There’s six wings, where are the other four now?” 

  “Stop talking,” he mumbles. Half your focus is on tending to his wings and the other half on holding back from thrusting fiercely into his welcoming heat. Thus as soon as you open your mouth, your hands still. 

  “I’m curious,” you hum. “Tell me later?”

  He huffs as your hands start moving again, you’re almost finished anyway. “Fine…”

  Feeling a little mischievous, and pouty by his dismissive response, you lightly pinch the ridge of his wing where it bends—and immediately, Sunday jerks in surprise, his wing stretching fully as his eyes fly open and his entire body tenses. He hisses your name as he clenches so tightly around you, your vision nearly dots, warmth and sparks shooting through you like an electrical line and you can’t stop yourself from pushing further up into him.

  With both of you surprised and disoriented by each other, as well as you finally granting the delicious friction of movement—if accidental—Sunday grasps your shoulders tightly and inhales sharply. “C-careful…!” he blinks, the combined tingle of his wings and the pressure of your cock is a delicate balance that he’s very quickly losing hold of. 

  Your breath shakes when it leaves your lips, you feel dizzy with need, the suppressed desire you worked so hard to keep under wraps while you tended to him is very quickly slipping between your fingers. “Sunday… I’m not—sure I can…”

  He clenches his jaw, in equal trouble with himself as you are. “You got m-most of it… we can finish later,” it’s a long process of checking and preening through over a few weeks, you already found seven, that’s more than enough for one day. 

  It’s all you needed to hear, you’ll take good care of him after—now, you desperately need to move. You already prepared plenty of protein-rich snacks to promote a healthy moult, and you’re sure you’ll both be hungry after this. 

  Sunday lets out a strange sound when your hand lays on his lower back and presses him closer, you other goes around his back—and you turn the two of you around, Sunday’s halo clanks against the headboard as he finds himself on his back, he groans slightly and hits you lightly on top of the shoulder. “Y-you—don’t do that while you’re inside of me!” he chides. The feeling of so much movement and how you twisted slightly made him cringe even as it also felt slightly good—only slightly, he won’t admit to more so you don’t get any ideas of rolling him around. 

  Any thought of further scolding leaves his mind like the scattering of ash after a fire has been stomped out as soon as you drag your hips back, halfway out—and move back in. Carefully. 

  Sunday swallows thickly, he feels a throb pulse throughout his entire body, behind his eyes and prick the ends of his fingers and toes. His stomach is wet, his cock freely leaking more than he’s sure he ever has before he’s even reached a high. He breathes your name and his nails dig into your shoulders, you seem so focused—but he wants your eyes to be on his. Before, he might’ve been embarrassed to lock eyes with you, but right now, he feels that he might cry if he doesn’t see you. 

  You blink, the breathy sound of his voice carrying your name to your ears snaps you out of your focus—to not thrust wildly, to not grab his hips in a bruising grip and lick the mess off his stomach. Your eyes move before your head does, and you see the watery squint of his eyes, the slight scrunch of his eyebrows and you fear you moved too fast—perhaps you should have pulled out before flipping him down, did it hurt him? 

  “Sunday,” your hand moves from the mattress next to his head, your fingers—still slightly fatty from the oil—brush over his cheek, his lower eyelid twitches as the tip of your thumb slides below it. “Are you okay? Should I stop?”

  Surprisingly, he smiles. A small tug of his lips that feels like a rare treat to see, it’s infectious and you smile in return. “Continue?” you ask, having stilled as soon as he uttered your name. Sunday nods, not quite trusting his voice to form words in a way that won’t sound embarrassing. 

  You lean down and press your lips to the edge of his eyes, they squeeze shut the moment before you touch them, and you feel a tinge of salt from unshed tears. 

  He trusts you, you take good care of him—always have, despite his tendency for doubts and isolation. You will always be there when he opens the door again. 

  The drag of your cock pulling back and pushing in again burns slightly, but with repeated movements, the feeling of pleasure overwhelms the pressure. He wraps his arms around your shoulders and tugs you into him, his thinned wings tickle your cheeks and shoulder as he presses his nose into your neck. Sunday can’t hold back his moans as you slide one hand under his thigh and lift it only slightly, managing a deeper angle without lifting his hips too much. 

  “Nghh—w-wait, that’s—“ Sunday jerks slightly as you rock into a particular spot inside of him, his entire body feels alight and his joints freeze as they are. His breath deepens as his back bows and his head tilts back, and you can’t help but press your lips to his, swallowing his moans and whines as his leg that’s not firmly in your grasp hooks around your waist. His words are muffled and clumsy against your lips as you increase your pace, he clenches around you in a rhythm that almost finishes you off instantly—but you can’t give in until he’s been satisfied. You need to hear and see him as he falls apart. 

  Sunday moves his head to the side and away from your lips, his expression pinching as the final thrust needed sends him over the edge and he cries out, and you quickly join him. 

  His head spins, Sunday feels like he’s in a whirl-winding pool—but realises the wetness he feels is just his own, and not pool water. He pants, squinting at you. “D-did you pull o-out?” he’s barely recovered enough to ask, and his body thrums so much still that he can’t feel it. 

  When you only give a sheepish smile, he pinches your ear, earning an; “ow!”. Sunday’s lips purse in a frown-pout. “You better help me clean up, then.”

  He doesn’t even need to ask.

[folkwhoredoll]

golden retriever - rafe cameron x fem!reader

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

synopsis: when your dog runs off to approach rafe

word count: 0.8k

warnings/tags: fluff (i used the name "finn" because that's the name of my dog irl but feel free to change it😊)

masterlist

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The waves lapped gently at the shore as you walked along the beach, the familiar sound of Finn's paws pattering beside you bringing a sense of peace. It was a beautiful evening, the sun beginning to set, casting a soft, golden hue across the water. The gentle breeze tugged at your hair, and you smiled as you looked down at Finn, your golden retriever, who seemed just as content as you.

But that peace didn’t last long.

Out of nowhere, Finn’s ears perked up, and before you could react, he bolted. His leash slipped from your hand as his strong body charged forward, and you stumbled backward, momentarily stunned by the sudden burst of energy.

“Finn! No!” you called, panic rising in your chest as you sprinted after him. Your heart pounded in your ears as you struggled to keep up with his large frame darting down the beach.

Of course, Finn was fast—too fast. He wove through the sand, his fur shining like liquid gold under the dimming sun, clearly set on reaching something you couldn't see. Your legs burned from the effort, and your breath came in short gasps. He was heading straight toward a figure standing near a boat docked not far away.

You froze when you realized who it was.

Rafe Cameron.

Of all people, why him? You'd heard enough about his reputation to know that approaching him wasn't exactly on your to-do list.

Before you could even think of a way to stop the disaster unfolding, Finn was already upon him, tail wagging like crazy. But what surprised you even more was how Rafe reacted. He didn’t flinch or seem irritated as Finn skidded to a stop, practically bumping into him. Instead, he crouched down and gave your dog a firm pat on the head, his expression surprisingly calm.

"Easy there, big guy," Rafe muttered, scratching behind Finn’s ears.

You finally caught up, your breath ragged as you stopped in front of them, panting and wide-eyed. "Finn! Oh my God, I'm so sorry—he's usually not like this, I swear."

Your heart was still pounding, not just from the run but from the sight in front of you: Rafe Cameron, notorious for his cold demeanor, standing casually with your runaway golden retriever as if they were old pals. Finn was calm now, his big, goofy grin aimed up at Rafe, tongue hanging out in utter contentment.

Rafe’s eyes flickered up to meet yours, and for a split second, something softened in his gaze. His lips curled into the faintest of smirks, though he kept his voice even. "It’s fine. Looks like he likes me."

You were caught off guard by how casual he sounded, like it wasn’t the first time he’d had a giant, excitable dog run full-speed at him. "Yeah, he… he doesn’t usually do that," you managed, still trying to catch your breath. You knelt down beside Finn, gripping his leash as if that could somehow ground you in this strange moment.

You couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. Rafe’s reputation wasn’t exactly pristine, and while you didn’t know him personally, you had heard enough to make your stomach flip with a mix of caution and curiosity. But standing here now, watching him scratch Finn behind the ears with that half-smirk on his face, he didn’t seem dangerous. Just… quiet.

"Well, he’s got good taste," Rafe said, his voice low but teasing. His blue eyes lingered on you for a second longer than you expected, sending a strange flutter through your chest.

You blinked, heat rising in your cheeks. Was that a compliment? "Uh, thanks," you stammered, feeling oddly out of place. You tugged at Finn’s leash, trying to focus. "I should, um, I should probably go. Sorry again for, you know, the…dog situation."

Rafe straightened up, brushing some sand off his hands. His expression was neutral now, but there was something unreadable in his eyes. "No problem," he replied simply, though the corners of his mouth twitched, like he was holding back another smirk. "Try to keep him on a tighter leash next time."

You bit your lip, unsure whether to laugh or be embarrassed, but you nodded. "Yeah, I’ll do that." You gave Finn’s leash a gentle tug, urging him to follow you away from the beach and away from Rafe Cameron, who now stood watching you with that same unreadable look.

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but glance back over your shoulder, half-expecting him to be gone. But Rafe was still there, his hands now in his pockets, gazing out at the horizon. Something about that moment—the golden sunset, the quiet between you—stuck with you as you made your way down the beach, Finn trotting obediently beside you.

You weren’t sure why your heart was still racing.

[koyagifs]

𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓸 𝔂𝓸𝓾

ʚɞ pairing : jongho x reader ʚɞ au : idol! | 9th member ʚɞ summary : you and jongho celebrate the release of your new song ʚɞ word count: 1.175 words ʚɞ what if! jongho and yn dated

When the news broke about you and Jongho, everyone was caught off guard. Atiny and KQ were in shock, some even rubbing their eyes to make sure they weren’t seeing things. Jongho, the one who was known for being guarded and never giving much away, had somehow kept his relationship with you completely under wraps.

It wasn’t like they didn’t know you two were close—there had been subtle moments, like the way Jongho’s gaze would linger just a little longer on you, or how he’d show up at random events you were at, standing protectively by your side. But no one ever expected an official announcement, least of all from someone as private as him.

The reaction was a mix of disbelief, surprise, and then instant excitement. Atiny immediately flooded social media, expressing how happy they were for you two, though they also jokingly mourned the loss of the Jongho they thought they knew. Fans couldn’t believe that their quiet, almost mysterious bias had managed to pull this off without anyone suspecting a thing.

KQ, meanwhile, couldn’t hide their surprise either. Even the staff was taken aback, knowing how careful Jongho was about keeping his personal life private. The question on everyone’s lips? How did they manage to keep it a secret for so long?

But despite the surprise, there was a sense of warmth. People could see how comfortable Jongho was around you, how the gruff exterior melted just a bit when you were by his side. It was clear that behind the surprise, there was a quiet certainty—that you were the one he wanted.

Once the secret was out, you couldn't help but bask in the newfound freedom to show affection toward Jongho. Whether it was casually holding his hand during a quiet moment or resting your head on his shoulder, you were all over him, and it made everything feel right. The closeness that had been so carefully hidden was finally out in the open, and you didn’t hold back.

Jongho, though usually reserved, couldn’t help but relax when you were around. His usual walls seemed to soften, and it was as if he had finally found his comfort zone. You saw it, of course—how his posture would shift when you sat next to him, the little smiles he would give you when you caught his eye. He let his guard down, especially when he was with you, and his members couldn’t help but notice the change.

It was a rare, peaceful moment between you and Jongho, just the two of you lying in bed together, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s presence. You were resting against his chest, his arm draped around you as you lazily scrolled through your phone, checking up on the latest news. You had been waiting for the drop of your music video, and the anticipation had been building all day.

Finally, the moment came—your music video was live. You could feel the excitement bubbling up inside you. With a quiet giggle, you showed the screen to Jongho, who sat up a little straighter, his eyes lighting up with pride as he looked at the video, his hand still resting on your back.

Before either of you could react further, the door to your room flung open with a burst of energy, and in stormed your bandmates. Their faces lit up with a mix of excitement and pure joy, all of them screaming in unison, "It’s out! It’s out!"

You and Jongho shot up, both startled by the sudden noise. But that was quickly followed by laughter and cheers as your members rushed to surround you, each one throwing their arms around you and congratulating you. Yeosang was already grinning ear to ear, trying to grab your phone to show you their reactions. "It’s trending! You guys look amazing in the video!" he shouted.

Mingi and Wooyoung were practically jumping up and down, practically vibrating with excitement. "I can’t believe you two made such a killer video!" Wooyoung added, looking at you and Jongho, his teasing smile never fading.

San gave you a playful side hug, lifting you off the bed for a moment. "I’m so proud of you guys! This is it. This is the one that’s going to blow up," he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

Hongjoong, never one to show too much outward emotion, was silently smiling, his arms crossed as he watched the excitement unfold. "You both really killed it," he said, his voice soft but filled with pride.

Jongho, despite his usual reserved nature, couldn’t help but chuckle at their reactions, feeling the pride swelling in his chest. You, too, felt the warmth spreading through you as you realized that this moment, your achievement, was being celebrated by the people who knew you best.

You leaned over, brushing your lips against Jongho’s cheek as the room erupted in laughter and congratulations. "We did it," you whispered, your voice full of happiness. Jongho nodded, his hand gently pulling you back toward him, as if savoring the moment.

"Yeah, we did," he replied, his usual gruffness softened by the happiness of the moment.

Jongho's voice was low and husky as he whispered in your ear, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin there, sending shivers down your spine. His usual gruff tone was replaced by something softer, something warmer—a tone that always had you melting. "You did so amazing," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear, his arm tightening around your waist as he held you close. "I’m so proud of you."

The praises flowed effortlessly from him, making your heart race, your cheeks flush with warmth. You couldn’t help but smile, your eyes meeting his as he pulled back just slightly, his eyes gleaming with something mischievous.

When the door slammed behind the last of the members, Jongho’s smirk grew. There was a certain playfulness in his eyes now, the atmosphere shifting as his voice dropped even lower, turning it into a seductive whisper. "Should I give you your congratulation present?"

His words hung in the air, sending a thrill through you. You felt your pulse quicken, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. You could see that mischievous glint in his eyes, the way his lips curled up slightly, his hand resting lightly on your thigh as he waited for your answer.

The way he looked at you, the confidence he exuded, had your heart racing even faster. "What kind of present do you have in mind?" you asked, your voice soft but playful, not backing down from his challenge.

Jongho’s smirk deepened, his gaze darkening with intent as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear again. "I think you’ll like this one," he whispered, his hand sliding up to rest gently on your waist as he leaned in to press his lips against yours.

And as his kiss deepened, the rest of the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you—celebrating, lost in the moment of the love and success you shared.

[matcha3mochi]

gojo satoru x reader

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

“Catch me if you can, Satoru!” you shouted, your laughter ringing out like a bell as you darted away, the thrill of the chase igniting your spirit.

Gojo’s blue eyes sparkled with mischief as he sprinted after you, a wide grin spreading across his face. His body moved with a fluid grace, each stride long and confident, arms swinging rhythmically by his sides. You felt the rush of adrenaline course through you, your heart racing as you glanced back to see him gaining on you, his playful determination evident in the way he narrowed his gaze, a determined glint lighting up his features.

You glanced back, a competitive smile on your face, feeling the wind whip through your hair, carrying the scent of grass and adventure. The moment felt electric, the excitement of the chase igniting a fire within you. With a burst of energy, you dodged a swing, your footwork nimble and agile, and the carefree joy of the game radiated from your every movement.

As you dashed through the playground, Gojo’s laughter filled the air, an infectious sound that made you grin even wider. You could feel his presence behind you, the thrill of his pursuit fueling your speed. He was close enough that you could hear his breath, each exhale a mix of excitement and determination. His long legs covered the ground effortlessly, but you were determined not to let him catch you easily.

In a burst of energy, you stumbled to a halt, pretending to catch your breath. “You’re slow, Satoru! You’ll never catch me!” you called, giggling as you bent over, your hands resting on your knees, chest rising and falling with each breath.

He paused, panting, his expression a playful mixture of mock offense and determination. “Is that a challenge?”

With a sudden movement, he lunged forward, every muscle in his body working in harmony as he darted toward you, a look of pure joy and mischief in his eyes. You felt a thrill rush through you, and as he reached out, his fingers barely brushing against your shoulder, a surge of exhilaration shot through your body.

“Gotcha!” he declared, his voice a triumphant shout as he tagged you.

You squealed in surprise, your laughter echoing around you as you fell back onto the grass, breathless. The world melted away as you both collapsed, staring up at the sky painted in hues of orange and pink. The soft rustle of leaves and distant giggles of other children created a serene backdrop, and for a moment, everything felt perfect.

“Y/N,” Gojo started, turning his head to look at you, his expression softening. “Do you think we’ll always be friends?”

You propped yourself up on your elbows, a playful smile dancing on your lips. “Of course! We’ve been best friends since forever. Nothing could ever change that!”

His heart swelled with warmth at your words, yet a shadow of doubt flickered in his chest. “Yeah, forever,” he repeated, though the word felt heavy with unspoken feelings.

As the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the grass, you both lay back in silence, watching the first stars twinkle into existence. The tranquility of the moment wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, but Gojo’s heart raced with the weight of unconfessed emotions.

“Hey, Satoru,” you said softly, breaking the stillness, “do you ever think about what we want to be when we grow up?”

He turned to face you, his heart racing. “All the time. I want to be strong, to protect the people I care about,” he said, his voice laced with sincerity.

You nodded, your expression thoughtful. “I want to help people too. Maybe as a teacher or a healer.”

Gojo’s heart soared at the thought of you making a difference in the world, yet a pang of longing hit him. “You’ll be amazing at whatever you choose,” he said, his gaze intense, wishing you could see the depth of his feelings.

“Thanks, Satoru,” you said, staring into his eyes for a moment, your heart fluttering at the intensity of his gaze. You then looked back up at the sky, chuckling softly. “And I believe you’ll do great things too, you’re destined for it!”

Your genuine smile lit up your face, and he felt a warmth spread through him, yet it was tinged with sadness. He wanted to tell you how he truly felt, how much you meant to him, but the words eluded him.

As the evening wore on, the playful banter continued, weaving through dreams and secrets, each laugh shared a treasure to be cherished. But with every passing moment, Gojo felt the weight of his hidden feelings pressing down on him, a bittersweet ache that wouldn’t relent.

Finally, as the sky darkened and the stars began to twinkle brightly above, you both decided to head home. As you walked side by side, the air was filled with an easy familiarity, yet Gojo felt an urgency rise within him.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice almost a whisper, “I really like spending time with you. You know that, right?”

You turned to him, your expression bright and completely unaware of the deeper meaning behind his words, laughter bubbling up as you said, “Of course! I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me!”

Gojo’s heart fluttered at your words, a mix of relief and affection washing over him. “Good,” he replied, managing a playful grin, though his gaze held a deeper intensity. “I wouldn’t want it any other way. Just promise me you’ll still want to hang out when we’re all grown up.”

You chuckled again, nudging him playfully with your elbow. “As if I could ever get tired of you, Satoru! You’re like my annoying brother.”

“Annoying?” he feigned offense, crossing his arms dramatically. “I prefer to think of myself as your charming protector.”

You rolled your eyes, still laughing. “Right! The charming protector who always loses at video games!”

He laughed, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “Hey, I’ll have you know that I’m just letting you win. It’s all part of my master plan to keep you around.”

Your laughter faded into a comfortable silence, the shared moment deepening as you both walk through the streets. The stars above began to twinkle, creating a beautiful tapestry. In that peaceful quiet, Gojo felt a surge of emotions he could no longer suppress.

“You know,” he began hesitantly, his tone shifting to something more serious, “I really mean it when I say I like spending time with you. You make everything better.”

He felt the familiar ache return, but this time, it was laced with hope. “Maybe… maybe one day, you’ll see me as more than just a friend.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, and he quickly added, “But for now, I’m just glad you’re here with me.”

You smiled, sensing the weight of his words, yet unaware of their full meaning. “Always, Satoru. Always.”

Gojo silently vowed to himself to find the courage to share his true feelings. For now, he would cherish the laughter and moments you shared, holding onto the hope that one day, you might see him in a different light.

[elliewithcellie]

Graduation Jitters

summary: You and Steve celebrate passing your final class

wc: 0.6k

warnings/tags: gender neutral reader (but let me know if you notice otherwise), established relationship, mostly fluffy i think, characters are each at least 22 here, no y/n

*********

The digital clock may as well have been analog the way you felt the seconds tick away. Your heart kept in time. Steve took longer than usual to return home from work. Anticipation filled your feet, lifting you from your seated position, now pacing in the living room. There was no use distracting yourself with TV or a book. Your mind raced with the news of your day.

The doorknob shook, pulling your attention from your thoughts. The door opened revealing your boyfriend. His eyes met yours, and a smile lit his face.

“Hi, baby,” he said. He closed the door with his foot, an arm staying behind his back.

“I did it,” you said. “I passed! I’m actually graduating! I’m getting my degree!” You couldn’t contain your excitement, the energy expelling from the balls of your feet as you all but skipped toward him.

Steve put his arm out for a hug. You gladly accepted, nuzzling into his chest. “I’m so proud of you.” He spoke quietly as if his message was only for you to hear. “I knew you could do it. Which is why I got you these.” He pulled his hiding arm around and revealed a bouquet of flowers.

“Steve, you shouldn’t have!” Your voice wobbled, and tears welled up in your eyes. Your sudden burst of emotion surprised both of you. You laughed despite yourself. “Sorry, sorry.”

He set the flowers down and pulled you even closer, lifting your chin to look up at him. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Nothing, nothing at all. I’m—I’m just so thankful that you’re here with me.”

“Of course, I’m here. You didn’t think I’d just ditch you after all this time, did you?” He chuckled and wiped your tears from your cheek.

“I guess not. It’s just that…so much has changed. Nothing is how it was when I started. It was so hard, Steve.”

“I know. Which is why I know how much this means to you. I know how hard you’ve worked, even if I haven’t been there for all of it. I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere, ok? So, you better believe that I’ll be right there with your parents cheering you on when they call your name.”

You huffed out a breath you were holding in. “You’re pretty great, you know that?”

“I had a feeling,” he teased. His expression switched from smug to uneasy. “They do know about me, right? It’s one thing to introduce yourself to the parents, but for it to be a surprise—”

“Of course, they do!” you laughed. “You’ll do great. My mom will welcome you with open arms. My dad, well, he’ll do his best. I promise. Just don’t tell them that we live together because they don’t know that yet.” You winced at your own words, waiting for Steve’s response.

Steve’s face shifted to one of horror. “You’re joking, right? You didn’t think that would be necessary information?”

“They can piece it together when they get here.” You shrugged.

“What am I gonna do with you?” Steve asked, fondness painting his voice. He pulled you in for a kiss, feathery and light, but loving, nonetheless. “Oh, gosh, I almost forgot!”

“What is it?”

“Your other gift,” Steve smirked. “I’ll go set up your flowers. Go to my car in the backseat, and you’ll find a little treat.”

Your eyes widened as the smile beneath your nose grew. Without another word, you dashed out to his car. A “Congrats” cake sat in the backseat, and you smiled to yourself. You were so thankful to have such a thoughtful man in your life.

[https-harlow]

Trick Or Treat

Summary- You, Jack, and Urban take Paisley, Olive, and Hayden trick or treating.

Everyone was dressed and ready to go trick or treating. Olive in her Taylor Swift “Lover” costume that you and Jack managed to finish even though she changed her mind a couple of days before Halloween. Paisley was dressed in her butterfly fairy costume, a long dress with butterfly wings and a fairy wand. Hayden was even dressed up. Olive picked out Hayden’s costume for his first Halloween and she wanted him to dress up as Sadie, the family goldendoodle. You and Jack were even dressed up as Barbie and Ken. 

“Daddy, when is Uncle Urban going to be here?” Paisley asked, Urban was coming with you and Jack before he was going out to a party.

“In a couple minutes, then we’ll leave,” Jack said. You got Hayden comfortable in his stroller, surrounding him with a blanket in case he got cold later on. Hayden reached up to feel for the floppy ear that he was holding on to earlier. As soon as you stepped away to grab the Halloween baskets, he started crying, Jack was helping Paisley buckle her shoes.

“I got it,” Olive said, jumping up from the couch and going over to her little brother. She didn’t know what he wanted but as soon as she figured it out she moved the ear so he could grab it. As soon as he did, he stopped crying. “Mommy! I did it! I made him stop crying!” Olive said excitedly.

“Good job Liv, thank you for helping.”

“See, I told you you’d be a good big sister,” Jack said as he stood up.

“Yeah, I like being a big sister, I love Hayden,” Olive said as she played with the fur of his costume. Urban walked in the front door, the girls running to him.

“UNCLE URBAN!” They yelled, practically jumping on him.

“Hi, my favorite Harlow girls,” Urban said, picking up Paisley to hug her before picking up Olive to hug her. “Are you guys excited?” 

“Yeah! Look at my costume!” Paisley said, spinning around so her dress would flare.

“Woah, that’s so pretty! I love your costume too Olive!” Urban told them before saying hi to you and Jack and going over to see Hayden’s costume.

“Can we go now?” Paisley asked you and you nodded.

“Yeah, let’s go!” Jack handed the girls their buckets and you put a bag in the bottom of Hayden’s stroller just in case their buckets got too heavy for them. You started pushing the stroller but Jack quickly took over. 

You all walked the neighborhood, the girls getting an amount of candy that would at least last 2 months. The girls both dumped their buckets into the bag you brought at least once. Hayden was even given a little candy even though he was too young to eat any. 

Towards the end of the night, Olive got tired of walking and you still had a couple blocks until you were home. You took over pushing Hayden, Jack carried Olive, and she rested her head on his shoulder. Urban carried her bucket while walking with Paisley. You stopped at a couple more houses before making it back to your own. 

As soon as you got home, Urban left to go to his party and Olive got a sudden burst of energy at the thought of getting to eat some of her candy. Jack got Hayden changed and mostly ready for bed before sitting on the couch to feed him a bottle. 

Paisley and Olive sat on the ground, dumping all of their candy out onto the floor.

“Can I have the M&M’s?” Olive asked Paisley.

“As long as I can have the Skittles,” Paisley said and Olive nodded.

“Okay,” she nodded.

They sorted all of their candy evenly except for the Skittles, M&M’s, and Resse’s cups which Olive hated but Paisley loved so Paisley gave Olive some of her Kit Kat’s for them.

Of course, the girls ate way too much candy and had a sugar rush all night, but that was part of the fun of Halloween.

Tag list @jackharloww @harlowcomehome @nattinatalia @hoodharlow @itsyagirljaz @heavyhitterheaux @harlowsbby @awhore4moree @harlowslefttoe @twerkforambrose @jackmans-poison @ilovenudy @taniapri @killatravtramp @easternparkway @macey234 @toocriticalharlow @lightsoutstyles @rachxc13 @iknowdatsrightbih @idktbh101 @blossomluvv @middlechild404 @hufflewhore128

[thelampisaflashlight]

Blanketed

[A sudden change in weather leaves Dew feeling ill.] Below the cut.

It starts with a general feeling of malaise, something Dew could easily blame on the weather; There’s a storm brewing above the abbey, but the dense clouds have yet to burst, leaving the air charged and... 

Heavy.

He feels sluggish, like someone has tied weights to his... everything.

His joints are stiff, and he feels cold.

Colder than he’s felt in a long time, but the others are starting to look at him funny the more blankets he pulls from the basket beside the couch where he’s been sitting practically since he woke up that very morning.

He glares back at them, shivering, ready to snap with the headache building behind his eyes, but he doesn’t have the energy to get up, let alone yell.

Aether finally stands up and presses the back of his hand to his forehead when he goes for a fifth layer, tutting under his breath before asking one of the others to grab the thermometer from the bathroom.

Dew narrows his eyes at him, but doesn’t put up a fuss when Cumulus returns and holds it in front of his face.

With a huff, Dew opens his mouth and lets her stick the device under his tongue.

Now, it’s normal for Dew to run a little hot, he is a fire ghoul after all, but from the looks on his friends’ faces when the thermometer beeps, he is, perhaps, a bit too hot even for him.

He doesn’t hear the exact number, too busy tunneling back under the blankets, rolling over to face the back of the couch, but before he can settle in, he feels arms sliding underneath his frame and pulling him up.

He wriggles awkwardly and manages to poke his head free of the blankets, only to make eye contact with Swiss, who’s cradling him against his chest and shoulder.

Dew makes an agitated, croaky noise at him and hisses.

“You stop that.” the multi ghoul chastises, smacking his butt through the blankets, making a dull “thwap” sound, “You need a nap.”

His tail swishes irritably.

“You need a nap.” he mocks, grumbling as Swiss bounces him slightly, trying to get a better grip on his body.

“You’re full of a lot of piss and vinegar for someone who’s basically swaddled up like a big ol’ baby.” Swiss sighs, patting his back.

“I wouldn’t have to be if it weren’t so damned cold in here!” Dew whines, admittedly feeling a bit better now that Swiss is actively soothing him.

“Buddy...”

Dew groans.

“You’re sweating like crazy, you know that, right?” Swiss asks, “It can’t be comfortable being wrapped up like this.”

Dew buries his face in Swiss’ shoulder, mumbling to himself.

“What’s that?”

“I said this is bullshit!” Dew practically shouts in Swiss’ ear, “I’m a fire ghoul! I’m not supposed to get fevers- Call Satan, I wanna have words-”

Swiss snorts.

Fuckin’ snorts!

“It’s not fucking funny!”

Swiss resumes patting his back, “I know, I know, buddy... Just, it happens, people get sick.”

“I-”

“Yes, even you.”

“I don’t want to be sick.” Dew grumbles, “It’s stupid human bullshit.”

“Spoiler alert bubs, your body is a stupid human body.” Swiss says, “You might be an ultra cool ghoul, but your vessel can still get sick.”

Dew groans again, propping his chin up on Swiss’ shoulder, locking eyes with Aether.

“You can fix this shit, right?” he asks, and Aether gives him a small smile, but shakes his head.

“I can ease the symptoms a bit, but if I can’t ‘fix’ being sick, Dew.” Aether explains, “I could make you some soup though? You want some soup?”

Dew considers this for a moment.

“...Can I have those fish crackers with my soup?”

“Of course.”

“...Sick.”

[kisses-for-you]

Sacrifice - Conner Kent

Conner Kent X GN!Reader

Summary: You and Conner don't really like each other. But when you make a sacrifice to save Conner, you both realise your true feelings.

Word Count: 1,580

⚠️ Warnings: Death.

You and Conner never really liked each other. It's like ever since he joined the team, you just hated him for no apparent reason. You didn't know why and neither did he. Maybe it's because you felt a certain type of attraction to him? No. That can't be it. Don't be ridiculous.

The tension between you and Conner was palpable. Anyone could see it. But despite the clashes and disagreements, there were moments when you caught each other's eyes, stealing glances across the room. In those moments, there was something unspoken, a subtle shift in the air. It was as if beneath the layers of animosity, a flicker of curiosity lingered.

One day, during a particularly intense mission, you and the team find yourselves facing an unexpected threat. Mother May has used her magic to stun everyone including Conner, except for you, which meant it was just you and her. Bad news for you, you don't have any magical powers, so what now? How are you meant to fight a witch with just your combat skills? That doesn't seem like it's going to work out great for you.

Feeling the weight of the situation, panic sets in as you assess the limited options. Your heart pounds in your chest and your palms start sweating. Mother May advances towards you with a wicked grin, revelling in her advantage. Without hesitation, you throw yourself between Mother May and Conner, shielding him from any possible danger.

She starts to speak but you interrupt Mother May, steeling yourself for whatever consequences may follow. "If you want to get to any of them, you'll have to go through me first," you declare, surprising even yourself with the conviction in your voice.

The empty road becomes charged with tension as Mother May assesses the situation. Conner, still under the effects of her magic, watches the unfolding scene with a mixture of confusion and concern. Despite your 'dislike' for him, you were still protecting him. Why?

Mother May smirks, confident in her powers. "You can't protect them forever, and trust me, your death won't change anything," she taunts.

Not letting her see the fear that is currently coursing through your veins, you respond, "Maybe I can't change anything, but I can't just stand by and let them get hurt either. At least I'll die knowing I did my best to protect my team."

Conner's gaze shifts from Mother May to you, a mix of surprise and realization crossing his face. He doesn't want you to die, especially not like this. But he can't do anything. Her powers have him and everyone stunned, stuck in place.

"You're brave, I'll give you that. It's a shame this is the way you have to go down," she scoffs, raising her hand to unleash a magical assault. As the energy builds, you brace yourself, fully aware that this might be the end. Yet, strangely, you feel a sense of peace knowing you're protecting the team, even Conner.

Just as Mother May releases the magical force, a sudden burst of red streaks across the scene. The force of her magic sends you flying backwards, directly into a wall. A sickening crack echoes through the air as your back collides with the wall.

Everything goes black. Surely, you should be able to feel something. Some sort of pain. You've most likely just broken something from the force of the hit but you can't feel a thing. You can't see anything either, nor can you hear anything. No fucking way. Is this it? Did the bitch really just kill you? That easily as well? What about the rest of the team?

Everyone winces at the sound of your back making contact with the wall. They know what's probably just happened but none of them want to believe it. You can't be dead.

As the darkness envelops you, one distant voice echoes in your mind - Conner's voice. "No, this can't be happening," he mutters, breaking free from Mother May's spell, his eyes widening in horror at the sight of you crumpled against the wall.

Before anyone can attack Mother May, she vanishes into thin air. Now you're dead and your murderer is nowhere to be seen.

The team, released from the magical hold, rushes to your side. Conner, fueled by a surge of emotions he didn't quite understand, kneels beside you. "Hey, come on, wake up," he pleads, his usually stoic demeanour towards you now replaced by genuine concern.

His voice slowly fades away as your hearing once again disappears. This time, it doesn't come back. This is really it. You're gone.

People say that when you die, you get to rewatch your entire life from birth to death. But for you, it's just pitch black, a neverending darkness. You didn't even get to say goodbye to anyone. You didn't get to tell Gar about how much you actually love hearing his stupid jokes. You didn't get to tell Kory about how much of an impact she's made on you and the rest of the team. You didn't get to tell Conner about how you don't actually hate him. You didn't get to tell him about how you used that hate as a disguise for your true feelings. You've realised you love him but it's too late now. You're dead.

Conner, kneeling beside your lifeless body, is overwhelmed by a mix of grief and guilt. The team gathers around, grappling with the reality of losing one of their own. Conner finds himself unable to comprehend the weight of your sacrifice.

Amid the chaos, he reaches out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face, a gesture that feels more tender than he ever expected. "I didn't... I didn't get to tell her how much I loved her," he stammers, his voice betraying a vulnerability you'd never witnessed before. He finally admitted the truth and you aren't even here to hear it.

In the following days, guilt gnaws at Conner. He feels somehow responsible for your death. Maybe if he'd been stronger, faster, he could've saved you. But he didn't and that kills him inside.

One night, Conner stands alone on the rooftop, staring at the city below. The realization hits him hard - he never got to express his true feelings to you. The words he kept buried, hidden behind a façade of dislike, start to haunt him slightly.

"I wish I could've told you," Conner whispers to the night sky, a silent confession to the empty air.

"Told me what?" you ask, your voice startling Conner. He turns around and his eyes widen in shock.

He stammers, "Y/N? But.. you're dead. How? Is my mind just playing tricks on me?"

"No. I'm very much alive. Trust me, I don't get it either. I died, or at least I was sure I had. Something somehow brought me back. But I don't know what," you say, standing there with a mixture of confusion and relief. You're glad to be back but you still shouldn't be here. How was this possible?

He takes a step closer, his eyes searching your face for any sign of deception. "If this is some kind of sick prank, it's not funny."

You take a step closer to him, closing the distance between you guys. Wrapping your arms around his neck in a hug, you respond, "Is this enough to prove I'm really here?"

Conner, caught off guard, hesitates for a moment before returning the hug, wrapping his strong arms tightly around your waist. As he holds you, a mixture of relief and confusion also washes over him.

"I thought I lost you," Conner admits, his voice a blend of vulnerability and sincerity. The realization that you're standing in front of him, alive and well, hits him and he hugs you the slightest bit tighter.

Conner, still processing the whirlwind of emotions, starts to speak again. "I never got the chance to tell you something," he pauses but continues, "Y/N, I never hated you. I just pretended I did because I thought that it was easier than admitting my feelings for you. But I realise now that it was a really stupid choice. I should've just been straight up with you. You dying made me realise how much I regretted not telling you. So now, I'm telling you because I'm too scared that something like this might happen again in the future and I can't go through this again. The regret and the guilt are too much. Even for me."

You pull away slightly, looking into his eyes. A small blush forms on your face as you realise he reciprocates your feelings. The corners of your lips curve upwards as you respond, "When I died, Conner, I regretted not telling you that I loved you so much. So, I'm going to tell you the truth now. Conner, I'm in love with you and I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I guess it took me literally dying to realise how I actually felt."

Conner flashes you a smile, a smile of relief and happiness. He opens his mouth to speak, but before he can even get a word out, you cut him off, your lips crashing against his own in a kiss full of passion and emotion.

His hand reaches up to cup your cheek as you slowly pull away. The warmth of his touch reassures you that this moment is real. "God, I love you so much, Y/N."

[gcthvile]

Zara Khan

Name: Zara Khan

Age: 25

Powers: Illusion casting, invisibility, minor reality warping.

Height: 6'0

Sexuality: Bisexual

Early Life

Zara Khan grew up in the heart of a bustling city, where the streets echoed with the sounds of life and the air buzzed with excitement. Her parents, a watchmaker dad and a schoolteacher mom, weren't exactly rolling in cash, but they made sure Zara's childhood was filled with love and encouragement.

From the time she was old enough to reach the kitchen table, Zara was drawn to magic like a magnet. She'd spend hours practicing card tricks and sleight of hand, much to the amusement of her parents. They figured it was just a harmless hobby, a way for their daughter to flex her creative muscles.

But for Zara, magic wasn't just a pastime – it was a passion. She devoured books on the subject, soaking up every trick and technique like a sponge. And when she wasn't reading, she was practicing, perfecting her skills with the dedication of a pro.

Her parents might not have understood her obsession, but they supported it all the same. They cheered her on from the sidelines, proud of their daughter's determination and drive.

The Mysterious Encounter

One ordinary afternoon, Zara found herself wandering the narrow aisles of a local antique shop, her curiosity piqued by the treasures tucked away in every nook and cranny. Among the dusty relics and tarnished trinkets, her eyes fell upon a peculiar find – a small, intricately carved box nestled on a shelf, its surface adorned with strange symbols that seemed to shimmer in the dim light.

Drawn to the box like a moth to flame, Zara reached out to touch it, feeling a faint hum of energy beneath her fingertips. The shop owner, an eccentric old man with a twinkle in his eye, noticed her interest and sidled over with a knowing smile.

"Ah, you've got an eye for the unusual, I see," he said, his voice low and gravelly. "That there's no ordinary box, miss. It's said to hold great power – ancient, mystical energy that's been dormant for centuries."

Zara raised an eyebrow, intrigued yet skeptical. She'd always been a rational thinker, grounded in the realm of logic and reason. But there was something about the box, something that tugged at her instincts and whispered of untold possibilities.

Unable to resist the allure of the artifact, Zara exchanged a handful of coins for the box and hurried home, her mind buzzing with anticipation. That night, as she sat in her dimly lit apartment, she turned the box over in her hands, marveling at its craftsmanship.

And then, in a sudden burst of brilliance, the box began to glow, bathing the room in a surreal, ethereal light. Zara's heart raced as she felt a surge of energy course through her, igniting every nerve in her body.

In that moment, she knew – she had been chosen. Chosen to wield the power of the ancients, to unlock abilities beyond the realm of mortal understanding.

The next morning, Zara awoke to find herself changed. She could cast illusions so vivid they seemed to leap from her fingertips, bend light and shadow to her will, and vanish from sight with a mere thought. And with each passing day, she discovered new facets of her newfound powers, each one more wondrous and awe-inspiring than the last.

Embracing Her Powers

At first, the rush of power was overwhelming. Zara felt like she was standing on the edge of a precipice, staring into the abyss of her own potential. But she wasn't one to shy away from a challenge. Instead, she rolled up her sleeves and dove headfirst into the unknown.

With her background in stage magic as her guide, Zara found herself in familiar territory. She realized that her years spent perfecting card tricks and sleight of hand had laid the foundation for mastering her newfound abilities. And so, she embraced her powers with a sense of determination and purpose.

Under the guise of her stage persona, "Mirage" she began to weave her magic into her performances, seamlessly blending illusion with reality in a dazzling display of showmanship. Audiences marveled at her feats, unaware that the magic they witnessed was anything but smoke and mirrors.

But behind the curtain, Zara was hard at work, honing her skills in secret. In the quiet solitude of her apartment, she practiced tirelessly, pushing herself to the limits of her abilities and beyond. She experimented with illusion casting, manipulating light and shadow with a finesse that bordered on the supernatural. And with each performance, she grew more confident, more in control of the power coursing through her veins.

It wasn't long before Zara realized that her powers were more than just a means of entertainment – they were a tool, a weapon to be wielded in the fight against injustice and corruption. And so, she made a vow to herself – to use her abilities for the greater good, to stand up for those who couldn't stand up for themselves.

With a flick of her wrist and a flash of her piercing green eyes, Zara stepped out of the shadows and into the spotlight, ready to take on whatever challenges lay ahead. For she knew that with great power came great responsibility – and she was more than ready to embrace it.

A New Purpose

With her newfound powers came a profound sense of responsibility that weighed heavily on Zara's shoulders. She couldn't ignore the injustices festering in the shadows of her city any longer. It was time to take a stand.

Embracing a persona that blended her theatrical flair with her mystical abilities, Zara stepped out into the night as a vigilante with a purpose. She moved swiftly and silently, a shadow in the darkness, her every move calculated to strike fear into the hearts of the corrupt.

Her first major victory came when she set her sights on a notorious crime syndicate that had been terrorizing the city for far too long. Armed with determination and a fierce resolve, Zara infiltrated their ranks, her invisibility cloaking her movements as she slipped past their defenses undetected.

Inside their hideout, she gathered evidence – documents, recordings, anything that could incriminate those responsible for the suffering she had witnessed. But she knew that evidence alone wouldn't be enough to bring them to justice. She needed to create chaos, to sow confusion and discord among their ranks.

And so, drawing upon her mastery of illusion casting, Zara unleashed a torrent of magic unlike anything the syndicate had ever seen. She twisted reality itself, conjuring phantoms and specters that danced and flickered in the dim light, driving the criminals to the brink of madness.

In the chaos that ensued, law enforcement moved in, their presence heralded by the blare of sirens and the flash of blue lights. The syndicate, caught off guard and disoriented by Zara's illusions, stood no chance against the might of the law.

As the dust settled and the criminals were led away in handcuffs, Zara knew that she had found her calling. She was more than just a magician – she was a symbol of hope in a city plagued by darkness, a beacon of light in a world shrouded in shadow.

Family ties

Zara and Kamala Khan have a relationship that's both supportive and inspiring. As cousins, they share a familial bond that goes beyond their superhero duties, making their connection both personal and profound.

Growing up, Zara was always the older, cooler cousin who dazzled Kamala with her magic tricks and confident stage presence. Kamala, with her wide-eyed enthusiasm and love for superheroes, found in Zara a role model she could admire and aspire to be like.

When Kamala discovered her own powers and stepped into the role of Ms. Marvel, Zara was one of the first people she turned to. Zara's experience and wisdom, both as a performer and later as a crime-fighting illusionist, provided Kamala with invaluable guidance. Zara offered practical advice on balancing a double life, staying true to oneself, and using their powers responsibly.

Despite their different abilities, the two often share tips and tricks. Kamala's shape-shifting and embiggening powers are complemented by Zara's mastery of illusion and reality manipulation. They brainstorm together, swapping ideas on how to creatively solve problems or outsmart their enemies. This collaboration strengthens their bond and makes them a formidable team when they join forces.

On a more personal level, Zara and Kamala share a deep sense of family and cultural heritage. They enjoy simple moments together, like chatting over tea, sharing family stories, or attending community events. These moments keep them grounded and connected to their roots, reminding them of the values they both hold dear.

Kamala looks up to Zara for her unwavering moral compass and dedication to justice, while Zara admires Kamala's optimism and determination. Their relationship is a blend of mentorship, friendship, and mutual respect, providing both with a strong support system. They inspire each other to be better heroes and better people, knowing that, no matter what challenges they face, they can always rely on each other.

Personality

Zara Khan is a force to be reckoned with – fiercely intelligent, quick-witted, and possessing a moral compass that always points true north. Her experiences as a performer have shaped her into a confident and charismatic individual, capable of charming her way out of any situation with a smile and a flick of her wrist.

But beneath her charming facade lies a deep well of empathy and compassion. Zara has seen the darkness that lurks in the hearts of men, and it fuels her desire to protect the innocent and bring justice to those who would seek to harm them. She fights not for glory or recognition, but out of a sense of duty – a duty to use her gifts for the betterment of society and the protection of those who cannot protect themselves.

Zara's background as a stage magician gives her a unique approach to her crime-fighting endeavors. She relies on misdirection, strategy, and psychological insight to defeat her enemies, often leaving them bewildered and outmaneuvered before they even realize what's happening. To her, every battle is a performance, and she plays the role of the hero with gusto, using every trick in her arsenal to ensure that justice is served.

But behind her confident exterior lies a woman haunted by the weight of her responsibilities. She knows that the path she has chosen is fraught with danger and uncertainty, but she faces each challenge with unwavering resolve and a determination to see justice done. For Zara Khan, the fight against crime and corruption is not just a job – it's a calling, a purpose that burns bright within her heart and drives her ever onward in the pursuit of justice.

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

hope you like her! 🤓

@missstrawbs2001 @jackiequick @blueboirick @cherrysft @meiramel @purpleprincessonfyre @ask-missparker @askstevella @therealdaydreamstark @rickb-chaos @luna-d-marsh @gaminggirlsstuff

[iheart-nana]

xvii. bandaids don't fix bullet holes

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩⋆｡° ✮

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN ─ bandaids don't fix bullet holes.

❛ who do i have to speak to about if they can change the prophecy?❜

Choi Yumi's Perspective

Meow!

The moment the shrill sound reached my ears, I looked around frantically to see where it was coming from. I hadn't seen the kitten in a few days; Now that I think about it, the last time I saw her was when Taesung was petting it. I advanced towards the bushes behind the bus stop near the music club. There it was, a tiny ball of grey fur hidden in the overgrown green shrubbery. 

I crouched down slowly and cautiously, taking a deep breath. Every instinct in me screamed to scoop up the fragile creature, but Taesung's advice echoed in my head. Blinking slowly, mimicking the cat's lazy blinks, I extended my hand, palm down. The kitten, all matted fur and wide, wary eyes, remained frozen. A pang of disappointment squeezed my heart. Maybe Taesung's advice only worked for him.

Just as she was about to withdraw her hand, a tiny pink tongue darted out, giving my fingers a tentative lick. A delighted gasp escaped my lips. The tension in the kitten's body seemed to ease, and it nudged its head against my palm, purring like a little engine. A warmth bloomed in my chest, a warmth that had nothing to do with the summer heat.

The little kitten's gestures, its soft blinking and mouth that seemed to smile, all resembled Taesung. It was as if I could see his face in front of me, unserious as ever. 

"You know, you look exactly like him," I whispered to the kitten, who was merely a clueless furball purring against the palm of my hand.

Choi Eunyoung's Perspective

It was a regular summer afternoon─ except it wasn't. The bright light from the blazing sun entered my room through the gaps of my curtain. The humidity in the air pressed upon me like a burden I had been carrying for many years. My lunch seemed to have started dancing in my stomach, making me drowsier; But there was a different something that kept me alert. My school books lay open on the desk in front of me as I sat in my spinning chair, my head leaning against the backrest. I fidgeted with the pencil in my heart.

Today wasn't just any ordinary day, it was the day of Sunjae's surgery. My left leg shook like a 4.0 magnitude earthquake, occasionally hitting the underside of my study table, sending a shooting pain through my body. My eyes fixed on the window in front of me─ Sunjae's bedroom window. I had often caught glances of him moving around his room, going about his life. The events of last week flashed before me. 

The sharp sound of his father's palm against Sunjae's face still echoed in my mind. The sound of Sunjae's frantic footsteps against the pavement coming to a sudden halt when I stopped him; Our quiet sobs as we clung onto each other, and the space between us was too clear in my head. I could practically see it unfold in front of my eyes.

A single tear traced a cool path down my cheek, a stark contrast to the prickling heat that had bloomed on my face. I reached up to wipe it away, the sterile silence of the apartment pressing down on me. But the quiet couldn't contain the storm brewing inside. My body seemed to act on autopilot, a stark contrast to the sluggish crawl of time earlier. I bolted from my chair, a desperate energy coursing through me.

"Mom! I'm going out for some time!" I yelled, the words tumbling out in a rush. The nail salon door clattered shut behind a customer as I raced down the stairs, not bothering to lace up my shoes. My mom's reply, if there was one, was lost in the pounding of my own heart. 

Everything seemed to happen so fast. Jumping into a taxi, I blurted out the name of the hospital, feeling a desperate need to be near Sunjae. Was he okay? Had the surgery gone well? I had to know. My hands reached for my skirt pocket, as a sigh of relief escaped my mouth knowing that my wallet was still there.

Bursting through the automatic doors, I skidded to a halt, chest heaving. The sterile smell of disinfectant stung my nostrils, a harsh counterpoint to the frantic questions bubbling up my throat. But before I could voice any of them, a sliver of conversation snagged my attention, pulling me towards a curtained-off area.

"...extensive damage," a doctor's voice, grave and laced with sympathy, drifted through a door left ajar. "The surgery went well, but the nerves... I'm afraid competitive swimming is out of the question."

My heart, as if it was made of glass, shattered into a million pieces scattered across the hospital floor. The world seemed to tilt on its axis, the sterile white walls morphing into a dizzying maze. Sunjae wouldn't be able to swim? The very foundation of his dreams, his passion, shattered? A strangled sob escaped my lips, the sound harsh and alien in the sterile silence. My hand flew to my mouth, muffling the sound, but the damage was done.

As I sat on the metal benches outside the room where Sunjae was, the contact of my legs against the metal was almost as cold as the reality that had been shoved in my face a few moments ago. All my feelings of self-loathing and self-doubt had become a mush in my chest as my muffled sobs echoed against the pale white hospital walls. The sitting area was almost devoid of people. The occasional nurses and doctors passing by paid no attention to the breakdown I was having.

After all, the sight of someone crying in a hospital is not an uncommon thing.

Narrator's Perspective

Sunjae emerged from the operation room, the syringe poking through his hand was a painful reminder of the doctor's words. His heart ached for the ruins of his future career, reduced to dust. He leaned against a wall, heaving a deep sigh as he felt a lump in his throat as he felt the tears forming in his eyes. Just then, the sound of muffled sobbing reached his ears before his tears could spill out. He thought he was hearing things,  but this presumption was quickly disproved as he peeked into the waiting area.

A girl sitting in solitude on the metal benches─ Eunyoung. Sunjaes heart seemed to stop at the sight. She leaned forward, her head buried in her hands as her sobs echoed through the empty hospital halls. This seemed to send a shooting pain through Sunjae. She was crying because of him, he thought to himself.

Sunjae had never felt more pathetic as he watched her from a distance, not daring to take a single step forward. 

A single tear slipped down his cheek.

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩⋆｡° ✮

nayoung's notes: i cried while writing this btw.

delphi's notes: i think i'm emotionally attached to this cat. (the other one too)

next chapter: saturday (out now!) list of chapters here!

[anon-e-has-a-tmblr]

5 years.

So much has changed in these 5 years that has passed. On ine hand it's been a long time but on the other, it feels like it always was like that.

Since I haven't spoken at all about in the recent years, and given a lot of people are now runing into the shenanigans I cause, I guess a recap is a good thing. Yknow, reflecting on years past, what changed and what stayed the same, and of course - what I did and what I'm yet to do. All under the cut

All physical changes that could have happened occured within the first 6 months. Even though I was shaving before for a while, within a month enough facial hair was growing on my cheeks that I actually felt like I should be shaving. However, quickly I discovered that I actually like having a beard, so coupled with lockdown laziness I just stopped shaving. Fat redistribution I noticed a bit later, when I decided that daily walks would be a good thing for my health and sanity. This realization came to me when I saw that my (back then) new trousers fit me better, whereas the couple of pairs I had since my days in the army were falling off me.

The mental changes, as much as you can call them that, happened seemingly overnight. The first thing I noticed was a burst of energy, I no longer was fighting to get up, and I could keep going for longer before I felt like I jeeded to rest. One thing that I'm glad that never happened was, a burst in uncontrolled emotions. I feared, that since during my teenage years I was so emotionally unstable and having bursts of unccontrolled rage, secind puberty will cause a resurgence of that destructive rage. And to my pleasant surprise - I felt a sense of calmness and content. A feeling of everything being just right, all things considered. And that feeling surprised me.

I also had a sudden burst of hunger, but that's expected with all types of HRT, and within a couple of months it resolved itself.

As of medical intervention beyond medication, I only underwent top surgery. In my case, this was a 2-in-1 deal: conplete double mastectamy, chest reconstruction surgery with a nipple graft. In my case, the doctors werent sure my nipple would survive, and I was mentally prepared to have a 3D tattoo of them in case they don't. Thankfully jot only they survived, I had full sensations and almost full function merely 3 weeks after the surgery. And as a bonus, their color changed to a healthy pink, which is only a bonus. I did have 1 complication, a very common one in all torso surgeries, and it is a gaping of the insitions. I had the gape under my left armpit, and it took about 6 weeks to close fully. It thankfully never got infected, and since I was covering it with a clean gasa and using an antibiotic cream as long as the doctors told me, I didn't have any further comolications. Pain-wise, my entire recovery was somehqat painless. Partially because of my rediculously-high pain tolerance, and partially because it just so happened to not be as painful. Feeling how the whole area is draining was very vile though. Do not recommend lol

As of bottom surgery: although I do have bottom dysohoria, for now I don't olan on getting one. Not only we don't do it here, it costs os much koney and has so many complications, and at the end of the day it wont give me the ability to have biological kids. So for now I stick with silicon prosthetics and hope they dont fall off xD

In my personal life, I finished my degree and got a driving license, on a motorcycle after learning the hard way that I can't physically drive a car. My ankle just doesn't aprove of such activities. I'm still yet to start working full time as an archaeologist, but that's entirely due to the places that employ archaeologists not recuiting new workers at this time. And I know I'm not the only archaeologist stuck in this madness. So for now, I work where I live, doing my best to not overwork and also have a little bit of time for myself and my hobbies.

In these past 5 years I also became more religious. After top surgery I felt like I'm ready to enter community life as a man, only to be faced with a religious dilema that cannot be solved, yet. So far, I have found only 1 person even talking about people like me with more than just "yall are heretics who are blasphemous for even trying to be a part of the religious community", and he only gave his opinion that there might be an answer. A different source that I did read (despite being targetted towards married people only) says that in some cases, just lying about your transition is the best course of action, but even then there are some stuff that I will never be able to do. And I'm fine with that. And because of this religious debuckle I'm hesitating to go on dates and eventually find a spouce.

Here's hoping for 5 more years of prosperity, and beyond that - god is greacious, so much can change and I just flow with what's given to me.

And I promise, I will find a religious answer to this entire situation. There must be. I'm not the only one, despite our small numbers we are enough to have at least an akgnowledgement that we exsist. And even if it takes me a lifetime, I WILL find a concrete answers, whatever that may be. And no, "there is no answer" is unacceptable.