#right now calming myself down despite of all those things is hard enough

[myheartxmyman]

Right now I feel so old and sad at the same time. Those feelings are so strong I feel paralyzed and slow.

[mindless-existence1]

Deadpool x Wolverine Honda Odyssey Scene

Summery: (How the Honda Odessy scene should have gone.) Logan gets hard when fighting and Wade is just hard all the time. After hours of fighting Logan finally snaps.

REQUESTS OPEN PLS SEND!

Authors note: This is for one of my boo boo bears hope you enjoy. The dp x Wolverine movie has taken over my thoughts so this is my form of brainrot.

Warnings: Smut, mentions of fighting and blood, praise kink, handjobs, being mean to each other, inappropriate jokes and language, anal, degration?, that's about it I think.

Masterlist Link

For fucks sake Wade just wouldn't quit and it was pissing Logan off. They has been going at this for hours and despite what either of them said, they were starting to get tired. Logan had a different reason for wanting to be done with this idiotic fight though, and it involves the sick part of him that gets turned on when fighting.

For some reason, probably after years of being an X-Men, fighting made him get a hard on. Most of the time he could ignore it since everyone he fought died easily. But now he was faced with someone who couldn't die, who had been flirting with him for days, and obviously was getting turned on to.

He quickly stabbed Wade through the head and watched him fall. They had been at this long enough for Wade to know he had about 20 seconds to get him tied up before he was back at it again. Logan took this time to use the seatbelts around them to tie the merc to the seat he was nearest to.

He finished with a final tug and leaned back in his seat to bask in the momentary silence. Wade's head slowly shook as he 'awoke'. "Ahh kinky." His voiced slurred and groggy. Logan rolled his eyes and shook his head with a groan.

"Would a good fuck shut you up?" Wade snapped his head up at the man's words. "I mean if your offering." Wade answered hesitantly but eager none the less. Logan saw him look down towards the hard on pushing against the yellow suit.

"I normally wouldn't ask for this and wouldn't even need this but you just won't fucking die." Logans voice was gruff as he spoke. Wade was hardly even listening to what he was saying just nodding his head. The only thing playing in his head was 'good fucking good fucking good fucking'.

"Look, basically I just get hard when fighting, I don't know why, I just do. Normally I can just kill the guy before it becomes a problem. It goes away, everything's fine- stay quiet " Wade tried to interject but was quickly cut off by Logan "-but you can't fucking die and I can't really just jerk myself off right now so you're the next option.

"This was the best outcome of their fight Wade could think of, he assumed what he saw in his frenemies pants was just a protective cup or something. But now knowing what it really was, his hard on sky rocketed. "Holy fucking shitballs, Honey Buns I will do abso-fucking-lutley whatever you want Wolvie.”

Logan starts to work on undoing his belt, it's hard in the cramped space but he deals. “I figured. Some of those last few moves you pulled gave away the fact you're a horny price of shit. Thought you'd feel the same way about this."

“Feel the same way? Peanut I’m more than receptive, I've wanted- no actually I've needed  that cock in my ass since I saw your  ass in that suit. I’ll even beg for you if you want.” Wade is rambling, he could feel the blood pumping in his ears. If there's an actual chance he's about to get fucked by the Wolverine he will do anything this glorious man asked of him.

Logan threw the tight pants stuck to his legs somewhere in the blood covered Honda Odyssey, but he kept his boxers on. He thinks for a second before cocking his head to the side with a small smile. “Ok then, beg.”

A wave of lust crashes over Wade, he curls in on himself as best he can. A moan gets stuck in his throat, he has to take a moment to calm himself. The threat of coming in his pants is starting to get more and more real.

“Ohhh fucking shit-biscuit. Please? Pleeeease, Wolvie? Logan? Daddy? Master? Sir? I’ll do anything you want. I’ll make it so so so good I promise. I’ll even try not to talk, like I'll really really try, just for you!" Logan, being the dick that he is, looks unfazed. He keeps his boxers on, his cock straining the fabric. Wade whines and throws his head down, squirming in the tight bonds.

“What the fuck do you want me to say? I'll say anything you want to hear, pretty please?" Logan tries to hide his grin, he hates that he's enjoying the show Wade is putting on. He pulls down his boxers and Wade genuinely thinks he might die on the spot. "Holy Marvel Jesus you're hung like a fucking horse Wolvie!"

“Shut up- Daddy and master are a no go-"

“Fair enough”

“But Sir is fine. Actually if you could just shut your damn mouth while we did this I'd appreciate it." Logan says. “Sir. Got it, I can do that. Yes Sir.” Wade jerks his hips in his seat, desperately trying to gain any sort of friction. “I’ll make sure the author capitalizes that 'S' for you Sir."

Logan ignores him, leaning down close to his ear. “Just keep being a good boy and this will go smoothly for both of us” Ohhh fuck that’s not fair at all, Logan must be a demon sent from hell just for him. Wade can’t catch the desperate whimper that forces its way out of his throat. He rocks his hips up as much as the seat belts let him, looking for any sprt of friction.

Logan grins. “Oh, you like that, huh?” For once Wade’s not sure he has the words to explain what he feels. He's glad Logan hasn't made move to take off his mask, furiously blushing as much as he can through the scared tissue."Is that really all it takes for the merc with the mouth to shut up? A little praise and you go quiet?" Logan voice teases Wade as he stares him down.

Wade looks at anything other that the hot as fuck man infront of him."Instead of threatening you earlier I could have just praised you and we wouldn't have had to do this whole go damn fight? God you are pathetic aren't you?" Logan is softly laughing now.

Even though Wade can't tell if it's mean spirited or not he can't bring himself to care. "Will you please just hurry up and touch me? You're the one who suggested all this in the first place." Wade tried, and failed, to hide his desperation. "I mean, think if the audience! They've had to wait 18 paragraphs for this. So why don't we just give them what they want?"

Logan didn't understand what Wade was talking about half the time, especially when he talked about some "audience". But he couldn't bring himself to care. "Can't you just shut the hell up?" He snapped at the tied up man infront of him.

The snarky comment Wade was about to say was quickly forgotten when Logan made a move to take out the bottom half of Wades bloodied suit. A flash of panic crossed his mind and he instinctively jerked his hips away from the older man's hand.

Logan retracted his hand slightly and looked at the man's masked face as he tried to laugh it off. "You good bub?" Logan asked apprehensively, "I'm fine! Totally fine! I just havent...done it with someone else since my break up. But wouldn't want to deprive you from this hot bod for any longer so let's get to the devils tango Peanut."

The jokes lacked their usual light heartedness but Logan could tell he wouldn't be getting anything else out the man. And at the moment he just need to deal with his raging boner.

His hand began the awkward pull of trying to pull off the bottom half of the deadpool suit from where it was wrapped up under the seatbelts. When Logan finally got the pants and underwear pulled down enough Wade wad aching.

Logan took a minute to just look at the man, his legs had just as much scarred tissue as his face. Even so, Wade had very muscley legs. From all work he's done he was truly built, and maybe they just looked hot because of what was leaking between them. With one hand he pulled the deadpool mask up above Wades mouth to help him breath the other went lower.

Logan reached out his hand to stoke the other man, he hadn't done this in a loooong time and he hates to admit he's a little desperate. "Time to get the sock ready nerds." Wade was mumbling to what it seemed like someone that wasnt there, Logan chose to ignore him. "Promise not to cut my dick off with your claws Mr. KittyCat Sir?" Wade's voice was desperate and practically dripping with need.

"Dont call me that Mouth." Logan snapped but kept moving his hand lower till he wrapped his calloused fingers around Wade's length. "Sorry Sir." Wade's voice was wavy and laced with a whine. "Holy fuck. Is my dick small or are your hands just huge?" Wade tried joking to hide the shaking in his voice from the pleasure.

"Do I need to tie that mouth shut?" Logans voice seemed to lower an octave as he felt himself somehow get harder from the little show in front of him. "No Sir." Wade felt so pathetic and he loved it.

"A handjob is all it takes for Deadpool to be tamed? Well I'll be damned." Logans tone as mocking and it just made Wade leak more precum. "Believe me Sir, I can't be tamed. Now come on and just fuck me you sexy honey badger." Wade was panting and trying to to hold back the moans desperately trying to break loose.

"God you are a pathetic slut." Despite his words Logan was getting desperate himself, "we can't really do this without lube or else I'm basically going to rip you open." Logan was a shameless man, as he parted Wade's legs so he could get between them.

"If you tear me with that metal rod of fun I'll be fine, you stabed me through the heart like 10 minutes ago, I'll heal." Wade's voice was begging, all he wanted was to have the Wolverine destroy his ass. "Actually let me rephrase. If you tear me- I'll like it."

That's all it took for Logan to bottom out, thrusting his hips into the moaning man under him. Wade through his head back against the seat in a minorly pornagraphic whine. "Fuck why does it feel like you're trying to impregnate me your so fucking deep? It's not that kind of fanfiction Wolvie." Wade choked on the moan bubbling in his throat.

"Thought I told you to shut the hell up," Logan leaned in closer to Wade with each thrust. "Don't you want to be good?" He knew the words would get the man, he was proven right when Wade withered in on himself with a whimper.

"Yes Sir." He mumbled in between pants. Logans grip on Wades his would be leaving bruises if Wade could get them. He was almost sad he wouldn't be bruised, there'd be no proof except a sore ass that he and Logan ever did this. But of course he wouldn't be shutting up about this for the next forever.

Like everything Logan did to Wade his thrusts weren't gentle. His pace was fast and each one left Wade breathless. He hardly had time to talk in between his moans, his legs were starting to shake as he doubled over on himself.

Wade was the first to start reaching his climax, he stared to ramble like he always seemed to “Logan, Logan- I’m so close just fucking please- fuck. I'm going to come- please?" He didn't know why he was begging but he couldn't stop the words falling from his lips.

“Just a little longer Wade, you can do that right? For me? You can be a good slut and wait a little longer?” Wade whined at the mans words, but choked out a weak, “Yeah- I can- I will Sir".

Logan was starting to feel the burning sensation of his peak in the pit of his chest. He brought a hand towards Wade's weeping dick to give him extra stimulation, the moan ripped from the others chest was laced with desire.

With a groan Logan thrusted a final time and released into the fucked out man below him. Not soon after Wade came, the cum landing on his covered stomach. The only sound the in car was panting coming from the two men. Wade seemed to be blessed out and almost ready to talk again.

Logan began to pull out after he did he pulled up Wade pants for him. He sat on the layed back chair next to where Wade was tied up. He pulled his pants up and layed down, he was feeling the exhaustion from the nights events. He looked over to see Wade's breathing slow down.

"Hey bub-"

"Don't call me bub when you just had your monster cock in my ass not even a minute ago.

[kassiekole22]

Can you do a Syzoth/Reptile x reader, about him telling the reader about things they should know about him & his reptilian form before they date each other? Thank you!!!

Are You Sure?

Picture lightly edited by me.

Description: It takes all the courage in the world to tell Syzoth how you really feel about him. But Syzoth isn't so sure that you can handle a Zaterran as a lover. So he decides to tell you everything you need to know, before taking your relationship to the next level... Warnings: Fluff, Pining, A Small Bit Of NSFW. (For brief mention of breeding.) Word Count: 1.4k A/N: I am sooooo sorry this took so long for me to finish! I've been dealing with some health issues and other personal struggles recently so I've been having a hard time getting things done quickly. But I'm getting better so hopefully that will change soon. I want any other anons to know that I still fully intend on finishing your requests and to other readers, please don't let this discourage you from sending any requests. I love hearing all of your ideas! Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this fic. 🖤 MasterList: 🖤 Kassie's Angels: @lorebite, @mornandil, @bihansthot, @katiralovely. (If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know in the comments! 🖤)

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I slumped down under a shady tree after practicing fighting for a solid two hours. Lord Liu Kang told me the monks would be harsh, but I never expected training to be just as hard as it was. So I sat — the back of my head hitting the bark of the tree as it fell back onto my shoulders — and I let out a tired sigh. My eyes began to fall shut but then the wrestling of tree branches jerked me right awake as I let out a startled gasp. I looked up to find the source of this sudden commotion only to see Syzoth — in his human form — staring down at me from a high branch with a cheeky smile stretching his lips.

"You scared me!" I laughed as I reached an arm up to swat at his feet, which hung down from the branch he sat on.

After responding with a huff of laughter, Syzoth jumped down beside me. He sat down on the ground so close to where I was that I subconsciously held my breath, now very weary of moving in his presence. But not from fear — because it was the closest I had ever been to Syzoth before. The soft touch of his skin touching mine when our elbows brushed together, being engulfed in a cloud of his natural scent, even being able to hear his breath was enough to get my heart beat racing. To say I liked the man was quite an understatement. In my eyes, he was beautiful; I just wish I knew how to tell him that.

"It's so nice out here," he breathed before letting out a relaxed sigh. "I could sit out here for hours."

"Yeah, me too." I agreed, looking in every direction but his. Of course, I wasn't subtle about it — despite trying to be — and he noticed instantly.

"Are you ok?" He asked as his tone dipped softer with more concern.

I simply nodded, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired."

I finally mustered up the strength to look back at him and make eye contact. But as soon as my eyes met those pale green ones, I could feel my cheeks burn with a sudden heat of desire. The expression that grew on his face was much like his tone moments ago: concerned and worried.

'Shit! He notices!'

"Are you alright, (Y/N)?" He asked while placing a hand gently on my own. The sudden contact did not help my rosy completion and I felt my skin burn even more.

I quickly pulled away and nodded my head, "Yes, yes — I'm fine." I assured him. "I just got too much sun today."

It was a good lie and I just prayed that Syzoth was as gullible as I had hoped. He did not answer me after that and for a good moment, peaceful silence had fallen over us and I was glad.

I took a deep breath to calm my nerves and finally felt myself relax again. Looking up at the sky, I noticed that not a single cloud covered it, allowing the sun to beam down upon us. The birds chirped happily and the butterflies fluttered in the air — watching them helped all of my stresses melt away and bring me to peace. It truly was a perfect day. I let my eyes flutter shut as a cool breeze blew passed us, and then I felt completely comfortable in my surroundings.

That was until Syzoth's voice broke the long-lasting silence...

"(Y/N)," His voice came out serious as he spoke. His sudden change in tone instantly caught my attention and I turned to face the man. "I have a question that I must ask—"

"Ok — what is it?"

"Do... Do you have feelings for me?" He asked hesitantly and almost... Shyly?

I froze as soon as the words came out of his mouth and I instantly felt my cheeks burn with intense embarrassment. The shock I felt was overwhelming and I had absolutely no idea how to respond. I just sat there, thinking deeply about a million things at once.

'Does he know? Am I really that obvious? There's no way! I mean, I've done so well to hide it!... Haven't I?

As humiliating as it was, I knew I couldn't keep the truth from him for any longer. So after heaving a deep sigh to gain just a little more confidence, I spoke my confession: "Yes, Syzoth — I do have feelings for you."

He stared at me with a blank and not so surprised expression for a moment. I felt as if I was under a burning spotlight while under his gaze. Finally — after a moment that felt like a lifetime — he let out a soft sigh. It didn't seem necessarily stressed or disappointed in anyway — it was just a normal huff of air.

"Are you sure? Because — as you know — I'm no ordinary individual. I'm not human like yo—"

"I don't care, Syzoth!" I cut him off as I raised my voice slightly. I didn't mean to come off aggressive in any way — I was just eager to tell him how I felt. I exhaled slowly and lowered my voice to a more calm pitch. "I like you for you; that stuff doesn't matter."

He looked at me for a moment, almost like he was reading over my words in his mind. Something told me by his expression that he did not believe me and would need further convincing. And unfortunately, I was right.

"No, (Y/N). You do not understand." He heaved a deep breath and shifted so he was facing me more before continuing, "There is still a lot about me that you do not know. Things you are not prepared for—"

"Well... Prepare me!" I basically demanded with an enthusiastic smile and he raised a brow at me for a moment. He seemed almost hesitant to let me into his world but eventually he did nod in agreement.

"Ok... For instance, our diet mainly consists of raw flesh of animals and humans. We can eat cooked foods but we don't prefer it." He paused for a moment to check my facial expression before continuing, "We shed our skin once a year. It's a very long and uncomfortable process and I will become very irritable at that time. I like warmth and do not do well in the cold — I can't handle it, in fact. I also have to keep my skin hydrated and... There's also mating season... Um..."

His eyes averted away from mine as he shifted uncomfortably on the ground while letting out a cough. I blushed at the thought of this "mating season" he mentioned, but tried my hardest to keep my composure for his and my sake.

"I may appear human sometimes, but do know that my reptilian nature still lingers within. Are you sure you want to engage in a romantic relationship with someone like myself?"

I smiled warmly at the man sitting before me and took his big hands in my own, massaging the backs of them with my thumbs to sooth him. It was obvious he was nervous and I didn't want him to be — he deserved to be comfortable with someone for once in his life and I was going to make sure that I was that person.

"Like I said before: I like you for you. And I would be more than happy to engage in a romantic relationship with you — that is, of course, if you want to engage in one with me?"

I gazed up at him through my lashes with hope blossoming in my heart for the first time that day. I felt his hands grow sweaty in my own and the look of concern on his face remained, causing a little bit of that hope to die off.

But then his worried expression melted away with a fond smile as his cheeks turned a faint tint of pink. He leaned forward and gently pressed his lips against mine — not necessarily molding them into a kiss, but just holding them there. So I decided to take charge of the situation and pressed mine into his in the way a kiss would be formed. And happily, he kissed back.

I knew that loving a Zaterran would be a challenge, but I wouldn't have it any other way. My heart longed for him and now that I had him, that's all that mattered to me. I had finally found the one for me and I knew I'd be happy as long as he was at my side — this I was sure of.

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[arctickat2400]

Love You More ~ Henry Cavill

Henry Cavill x Reader

Word Count: 2470

Warnings: insecure!reader, fluff, angst, tiny bit of blood, negative self talk

A/N 1: You can picture yourself wearing whatever you want in this, but I've originally pictured myself wearing a cropped tank top and underwear cuz even though I'm insecure about my body, I love chilling around the house without pants, and in my head I know Henry loves it too lol

A/N 2: You will see in this imagine that I mention a blanket. It is a type of sensory blanket, a small square of fabric that my mom made me that contains eight tags made of ribbon around the edges. It helps me when I'm anxious (which is basically 24/7) in which I will rub the tags between my fingers to calm my mind, keep my mind and hands occupied.

Hope you enjoy!!

***

You hate what you see when you look in the mirror - your soft belly, thick thighs, wide hips, love handles, cellulite-covered skin. You loved when friends and family complimented you, but your mind never believed them. Looking at each and every detail of your body, your mind becomes overwhelmed and your emotions become too intense. A shrill scream escapes your throat as you ram your fist into the glass, shattering it to pieces. You watch in tears as the shattered glass falls from the surface before your legs give out and you collapse to the cold tile floor. 

Henry had just gotten home about an hour ago. You had seemed fine then, happy to see him as usual, jumping into his arms as he pulled you into a sweet ‘hello’ kiss. However, as he sat at the kitchen island on his laptop reading over his script waiting for you to join him again, Henry knew that that had all changed when he heard your heart wrenching scream.

Henry paid no mind to the bar stool toppling over as he stood and ran up the stairs toward the sound that scared him most, Kal right on his heels. Rushing into the bathroom to see your curled up in tears on the floor, Henry doesn’t hesitate to kneel down beside your shaking body. Taking your trembling body in his arms, Henry tries to keep his own tears at bay when he sees the blood and tiny glass shards on your knuckles. Looking up at the now non-existent mirror and the shattered glass across the floor, Henry knows exactly what’s going on in your mind, holding you tighter in his strong embrace as you cry in agony. Henry looked at Kal sitting patiently in the bathroom door, and he knew he was just as worried as his father was about his mother. 

You’ve always been insecure about your body, even though Henry never ceases to tell you how much he loves your body. He thought that after you met him, you were getting better. And you have, but still, on those not so rare days, you’ll break down in tears. He hates that nothing has been able to help you long term. But, Henry is always there to hold you and take care of you, no matter what, and he vows to always be there for you. 

“It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you,” Henry whispers in your ear softly as he rocks you in his lap. You hold on to his arm, squeezing his bicep in your grip despite the pain in your right hand. Henry runs his fingers through your hair, placing a kiss to the top of your head, trying to soothe your angered mind. 

Henry listens as your labored breaths begin to calm, looking down to see your eyes closed. He let out a sigh of relief, even if it was only temporary, when he realized you had fallen asleep. 

You’ve been suffering with chronic fatigue for so long and it’s taken a toll on you physically, mentally, and emotionally. It prevents you from doing certain everyday things. Henry’s been there for you through it all and you can’t imagine how hard it would be without him. You could never thank him enough for how amazing he’s been since you met. But he hates that neither of you have been able to find a way to help. Some may say that what you’re going through needs to be fixed. However, Henry doesn’t want to fix you, because he doesn’t believe there’s anything broken. You just need a bit of extra love and care, and he has vowed to spend the rest of his life giving you that and more.

Henry, still holding your sleeping form in his arms, your head lying against his chest, leans forward into the bathroom cabinet under the sink to grab the rubbing alcohol and a washcloth. He takes a pair of tweezers and begins pulling out the small, yet knowingly painful shards of glass from your skin. He was thankful you were out cold so you didn’t have to experience the pain consciously. Kal, having laid down in the doorway, cried out after having smelled the blood and watching Henry take care of his mum. 

“It’s alright, bear. Mum’s alright,” Henry assures his dog, looking over with a half smile to see Kal’s face lying on his paws, staring at the scene in front of him. 

After all the pieces were out, Henry washes over your knuckles with the alcohol, cleaning the blood from your cuts and down your hands where the blood ran. Once clean, he wraps gauze around your hand before picking you up and carrying you bridal style to your shared bed. Henry places you down carefully, covering you in the comforter before placing a sweet kiss to your forehead. He patted the bed softly for Kal to jump up and keep you company while Henry went back into the bathroom to pick up the broken glass. 

Henry couldn’t bear to leave you after what you just went through, so after cleaning, he sat in the recliner beside your bed, looking over you to make sure you were okay. Smiling sweetly at the sight of Kal’s large, fluffy head laying down on your thigh, Henry picked up his book from his bedside table to read. He always kept an eye on you, looking up every now and then when you would stir, only to turn over to get more comfortable in your sleep. 

After a while, it seems Henry had been reading the same sentences over and over, having trouble comprehending the words on the pages. His mind was plagued with thoughts of you and how all he wanted to do was help you, take care of you, love you so you wouldn’t think such horrible things about yourself anymore. 

The anxiety got the best of him, needing to get up and walk around instead. Henry stood up, placing a kiss on your forehead and, making sure you were still alright, he headed down the stairs quietly, Kal staying behind while cuddling up next to you. Henry paced around the loft - through the living room, down the hall, even going back up the stairs and into the bathroom before coming back out and passing you again on the bed. Kal raises his head each time Henry would pass before laying his head back down beside you. 

Henry finally ends up back downstairs and in the kitchen, leaning on the island, rubbing his face in slight distress. Henry hated seeing you in such pain. He hated that he couldn’t take the pain away, or at least some of it, take some of the weight off your shoulders and help you carry it. He hated that he couldn’t help you and make it all better. But he also knew that he would not stop trying, and he would continue to love you through it all.

Henry is in his own world when you decide to make your appearance, Kal following you down the steps and into the kitchen. He hadn’t noticed either of you until you came up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist from behind, laying your head between his shoulder blades. 

“Hey, darling,” He greets softly, a sweet smile coming to his lips at just the mere presence of you. He brings one hand up to smooth over your bandaged hand that’s placed across his chest, intertwining your fingers. Henry turns in your embrace, taking you into his arms and holding your head to his chest, brushing his hand through your hair, his other hand gently rubbing your side.

The longer you stand there, the easier it is for your mind to become overwhelmed again with negative thoughts. Henry feels you start to shiver, hearing your soft sniffles as tears cascade down your cheeks.

“Shh, shh, shh. It’s okay, baby. Everything’s alright,” Henry tries calming you before placing his hands under your thighs and picking you up. You wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, clinging to him like a koala. He rubs your back as he carries you to the couch. Sitting down, he holds you in his lap for a little while longer, Kal jumping up on the couch and laying beside you, placing his head on your thigh, looking up at you with sad eyes. As your sniffles and cries die down, Henry, with a bit of hesitation of your own, pushes you back, holding you close enough to be able to see your beautiful, but sorrowful red eyes. 

“What’s going on, sweetheart? Tell me what’s on your mind,” Henry requests as he brushes his thumb over your red, tear stained cheeks, looking into your eyes with such worry and sadness, yet the love and adoration never ceases.

You look down at your hands, picking at the skin, before Henry takes both your hands in his while leaning forward to grab your blanket from the coffee table, handing it to you. 

“I’ve just… I’ve been so tired lately. And I’ve been eating so much that I’ve gained weight. I’ve hardly been able to control my hunger and my mind is plagued by food, and all I can think about is how much I hate myself and my body because I can’t control any of this and I’m sick of being so damn tired all the time!” You pause, your breathing becoming heavy and labored, tears rushing from your eyes, as you smooth your fingers over one of the tags on your blanket. 

“And it doesn’t help that the thought keeps coming to me that you didn’t sign up for this and I’m scared you might feel like you’re stuck with me and how could you still love me like this?” You almost scream in tears, Kal letting out a worried whine in response. Henry takes you back into his arms, a look of panic on his face as he holds your head against his chest, his other hand smoothing down over your hair.

“Hey, hey, hey, no, baby. I’m right here. I’m not leaving you. This is the only place I want to be. If I could hold you forever, that’s exactly what I’d do,” Henry holds you tight as you cry for the next several minutes, fisting his shirt in your grip as you couldn’t keep your tears at bay. 

“Can you look at me now, princess?” Henry asks you, placing his hands on either side of your face, pulling you back to look at him. You sniffle as you lock eyes with his mesmerizing cerulean blue eyes. He gives you a reassuring smile, rubbing his thumbs across your temples.

“Listen very closely, my love. I have told you so many times, and it will never cease to be the truth, darling - no matter how you look, how much you weigh, how much you eat, now matter how much of literally anything you do, I will always, always, love you, no matter what. I don’t care if you lose or you gain weight. I love you for you, and I will always love you. There is not a single thing about you that could change that.” He has to repeat some things so he knows that it will be ingrained in your mind.

“Because the truth is, baby,” Henry pauses briefly with a smile, chuckling. “I can only ever love you more. Every day, when I think I can’t possibly love you more, you will do something crazy or silly, or say something absolutely outrageous, and it just makes me love you so much more. I still don’t know how you do it, but you never cease to amaze me, my sweet baby girl. And nothing about your body will ever change that,” He says it all with a huge smile on his face, his eyes never leaving yours, and you find yourself crying not sad tears, but happy ones now as you rush into Henry’s arms.

“I love you so much,” You whisper in his ear, holding onto him tight, your fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“You, my love, are the most magnificent woman I’ve ever met, and there will never be a day where I stop loving you, because it is impossible for me not to love you,” Henry admits, his arms tightening around your torso. He kisses the side of your head before you pull back, placing your hands on either side of his head now, leaning in and pressing your lips to his in a passionate expression of pure love and devotion. 

“Now, if you are ever thinking anything negative about your body again, my beautiful girl, you make sure to come straight to me and I will do everything in my power to make those thoughts go away, promise me?” Henry demands, firmly but in sweet assurance. 

You nod your head with a small smile, “I promise.” Henry smiles as he looks down and begins rubbing across your tummy with his knuckles.

“You do know that even though I’m not with you for your body, I still believe you are absolutely, breathtakingly gorgeous? There is not a single day I don’t look at you and think, ‘Damn, how did I get so lucky to be able to hold this stunning human being in my arms everyday?’ I mean how could someone not love this adorable belly of yours?” Henry chuckles as he leans down and blows a raspberry against your tummy. A deep red blush comes to your cheeks as a laugh erupts from your lips.

“I think it’s the other way around, my love.” You giggle, calming down as Henry, still with a smile on his face, comes back up and looks up into your eyes while rubbing your soft sides, his thumbs brushing over your belly. “How did I get so lucky to meet not only the handsomest man on earth, but the most caring, loving, warmest man with the biggest heart of gold who never ceases to tell me how much he loves me?” You smile shyly, your thumb brushing across his bottom lip. 

“We’re just a match made in heaven, my darling,” Henry says as you both laugh softly together, meeting in a sweet kiss, Henry’s hands on either of your thighs, holding you to him. 

You feel something cold against your arm and you both look down to see a smiling Kal looking up at both of you. “Hi, sweet boy,” You smile at Kal, running your fingers through the thick fur on his head while you lean forward to lay your head on Henry’s shoulder as he wraps his arms around you, thanking God for this extraordinary woman he gets to call his. 

[misctf]

Employee Swim Day

Jack sighed as he adjusted his goggles and prepared for his morning swim. As co-captain on the swim team, he always did his best to stick to his strict routine, even if it was early on a Sunday. But he had other motivations too. His bros were giving him shit for choosing to study over partying the night prior, and his girlfriend wasn’t happy that he wasn’t spending time with her. It wasn’t like he didn’t enjoy those things, but right now he needed to focus on his grades and studying. But with all the added stress, he knew he could count on a nice swim to calm his nerves. Well at least he thought he could. Arriving at the pool earlier, he saw a sign reading “Employee Swim: Students Not Permitted”. Usually he wasn’t one to break the rules, but today felt like an exception. And despite the glares of a few employees, Jack was feeling good.

“It’s a big pool.” Jack mumbled to himself, “They have enough room.”

Without another thought, he expertly dove into the pool and started his laps. He pushed himself hard, relishing in the feeling of being in the water. After another lap, he pushed himself out of the water and sat at the edge of the pool to catch his breath and remove his goggles.

“Just a quick breather.” He thought, “Then I’ll get back into it.”

“Hey kid, you an employee here?” Jack jumped at the commanding voice and turned to face the man.

“Oh uh...” Jack started. He expected someone might make a comment, but he was truly taken aback by the man in front of him. Saying the man was large was an understatement. He was clearly muscular, although his muscles were covered in a thick layer of fat, causing his pecs and gut to jut out. His arms and shoulders were similarly massive. But what got Jack the most was how hairy he was. As a swimmer, he had always been careful to keep clean shaven, something this man cared little for. The only place Jack could see that wasn’t covered in hair was the man’s bald head. Even his face was adorned with a salt and pepper beard, indicating to Jack the man must be a few decades older than him.

“I haven’t seen ya around kid, the names Phil.” Phil said extending a hand to Jack. Jack couldn’t explain it, but in front of this man, he felt small. Not just physically either, even though the man towered over him. His presence radiated authority.

“Oh, I’m Jack.” He said, shaking the other man’s hand. Jack couldn’t help but wonder if this man really thought he was an employee? Was he stupid or something? Jack cleared his throat, “Uhh and yeah, I’m a student. Just wanted to get a swim in.” Jack mentally kicked himself, why did he sound so unassertive? It wasn’t like him.

Phil raised a thick eyebrow, “That’s what I figured kid. You know its employee swim day, right? Ya know, for employees to relax poolside after stressing over cleaning up after you kids. Me and the guys are gonna kindly ask that you leave.”

Jack was uneasy, “Look just a few more laps and I’ll get going.” He said, trying to muster some confidence, “I pay tuition here and with finals and everything else going on, you don’t need to tell me about stress.” Phil smiled, “Besides, I’m not taking up that much of the pool.”

Phil shrugged, “Alrighty boy, suit yourself.” The larger man gave Jack a firm pat on the back, and walked back over toward a group of guys. Jack couldn’t help but notice that this group were all nearly as big and hairy as Phil. The larger man sat down next to his buddies and said something, causing a few of the guys to laugh.

“Whatever.” Jack thought, placing his goggles back on, “Bunch of assholes.”

And with that, Jack dove back into the pool and started another lap. However, as he approached the other end of the pool, Jack couldn’t help but feel a little more out of breath. He stopped at the end of the pool and took a few deep breath.

“Must be from pushing myself earlier.” Jack thought. He brushed a hand through his hair, not noticing that as he did, clumps of it were washed away, leaving his hair shorter with a few bald patches.

With another deep breath, he started his lap across the pool. As he swam though, he felt a strange itchiness course across his skin. It started in his chest, but quickly moved down his toned stomach and seemed to then reach around and spread throughout his back. At first it was uncomfortable and he nearly stopped midway across, but as he continued to swim, the itching and tingling seemed to improve. Unknown to him, tiny hairs had begun erupting across his chest, back, shoulders, stomach, and armpits. His arms and legs were not spared either as more and more hair grew from his previously well shaven skin. And while the hairs continued to lengthen and thicken as he swam to the other end of the pool, the remaining hair on his head fell away, leaving him completely bald. He remained unaware as he reached the edge of the pool- the changes seemingly stopping.

“What the hell?” Jack breathed, exhausted. To make matters worse, he felt a dull throbbing pain across his forehead, “Damn headache.” He mumbled. He removed his goggles and threw them on the pool edge, “New goggles suck.”

“C’mon Jack, ya look like shit out there!” Phil’s voice boomed across the pool, causing a few of the guys next to him to snicker.

“Fuck you.” Jack whispered to himself, not even glancing over at them. He was going to do his best to ignore those assholes.

With that, he started another lap across the pool. As he did, the lengthened until a thick pelt covered the previously hairless swimmer. At the same time, hairs pushed out around his chin and upper lip, forming into a goatee. But the biggest changes occurred when he was halfway across the pool. Fat began to accumulate on his previously toned body. His flat pecs pushed out with fat and muscle, while his toned arms thickened with fat. His legs and ass were not spared, and the accumulating fat caused his speedo to strain before ripping completely. As he got closer to the edge of the pool, his once tight abdominal muscles became covered in a thick layer of fat, which continued to push further out into a solid beer gut. His face filled with extra fat, becoming somewhat rounder. But by the time he did reach the edge, Jack was feeling exhausted. What was worse though was the headache that pierced through his skull. He was barely able to concentrate on anything.

“Just one more lap.” He said to himself, “Just gotta grab my goggles, go home, and sleep this shit off.” Jack winced at the sound of his voice. It sounded deeper and more gravely compared to his usually youthful tenor. He tried to clear his throat, “Maybe I’m coming down with something.” He whispered to himself. Between the headache and his voice, it made sense to him.

With that, he started his next lap, although he felt slower and heavier. With each stroke, Jack felt even more off and his form began to suffer. He felt more tired, but not in a way he could associate with a good workout. As this new feeling grew, his body began to lose its youthfulness. The thick hairs across his body began to lighten, with patches of gray poking through. Wrinkles formed on his skin, while his complexion began to change. His arms and legs darkened, while his upper arms, chest, and abdomen lightened until he had a solid farmer’s tan. At the midway point, his changes continued as his muscles began to atrophy with age, and his layers of fat started to lose its firmness and sag. As he neared the edge of the pool, it was like his body stopped responding to him. His technique became flailing of his arms and legs. He was panicking and just as he thought he was about to go under, he felt a pair of strong hands lift him out of the water and onto the edge of the pool.

“Damn, you really had us going there for a sec, Greg.” Phil chuckled, as he too pulled himself out of the pool.

Jack was coughing, “What the fuck? Greg?” He said between coughs, “My name is...”

“Greg” Phil said cutting him off, “Fuck did you take in too much water? Screwed with your head?” Phil laughed, “Also I think ya lost something out there.” He said nodding towards the torn speedo floating in the water.

Jack’s eyes widened and he immediately looked down, “What the fuck?!” He shouted, taken aback by the large gut that protruded from his once toned abdomen. He quickly covered himself with one hand and grabbing a handful of his hairy, fat stomach, “Wha... what happened to me?” He immediately shoved Phil away and moved as quickly as he could to the locker room, his hairy fat ass jiggling with each step. He did his best to ignore the laughter of Phil’s buddies as he passed by them. Phil just smirked, nodded at his buddies, and followed Jack into the locker room.  

Once in the locker room, Jack continued to take deep breaths. He looked around in panic, and moved towards the nearest mirror. When he finally was able to get a good glimpse at himself, his heart sank. Gone was his toned swimmer’s body and youthful appearance. He rubbed a hand through his flabby chest hair and patted his bald head, recoiling at the unfamiliar sensation. This couldn’t be real, whatever this was it had to be an illusion or a prank.

“Well Greg, what do we have here?” Jack’s eyes widened and he turned to face Phil, who wore a smug grin across his bearded face.

“You did this to me!” Jack shouted. But just as he was about to continue yelling at the still larger man, his piercing headache intensified.

“Well I guess you’re somewhat smart.” Phil chuckled, “I did warn you it was employee’s swim day, and since you wanted to swim so badly, I made you one of my employees.” Jack continued to grip his head in pain, barely registering the words, “Although, I still have some shit to get done today. I’m really enjoying my time here, so I’m sure you can handle our workload.”

Jack groaned, “Please... just stop this.” He said collapsing to his knees, continuing to grip his head, “My name... I’m not Greg.”

Phil smirked, “Ah don’t worry. Besides no more stressing about school or stupid relationships.” Jack looked up at him. How did he know? Who was this guy? Phil shrugged, “Mind reader, but no need to concern yourself with that, right Greg?”

“Greg...” Jack whispered, the headache improving only slightly, “But my name is...” What was his name? The more he tried to think of it, the more the headache intensified.

“Greg, you’ve been working for me for the last 25 years.” Phil said walking up to Jack, “You know that, right Greg?” He said forcefully and once again Jack felt weak in the presence of such an authoritative figure, and with the forcefulness of the large man’s tone, the name “Greg” seeped into his brain. He could hear a voice radiating from within his mind, prodding him to accept this new name. Jack gripped his head tighter. Would it really be that bad to be called Greg? Did it really matter what his name was? Besides, as the name Greg reverberated through his head, it just seemed right. As he accepted the voice and what it was telling him, the searing pain of his headache improved. In fact, a euphoric feeling washed through him, sending waves of pleasure coursing through his body. It felt right to him. If Phil wanted him to be Greg, he would be Greg.

“Yeah... Greg, sounds right.” Greg replied. He seemed content with his name, but old memories from what felt like a lifetime ago forced themselves to the surface of his mind, “But... no, what about college? And finals? And my girlfriend?” He said gripping his head again as the headache intensified.

Phil shook his head, “You work at the college Greg. You’re in maintenance.” He chuckled, “Ya know you’re such a dumbass, how could you forget you’ve been working the same damn job for the past 25 years?” Greg gripped his head even tighter as the pain intensified, “And a girlfriend? Really Greg? All the guys know you’re a total cock sucking moron. One of the reasons we keep ya around.”

Greg felt the headache worsen again. He could’ve sworn he was smart- studying all the time, getting good grades, actually attending college and not working at it. But as he tried to resist those thoughts, the headache seemed to worsen. Maybe he was mistaken? Just that thought alone sent a small wave of euphoria, that caused his body to shake in pleasure. It was at this point he realized that accepting these facts would bring relief. And so, his resistance faded. It was true, he never dreamed about going to college, instead dropping out as quickly as he could from high school. He instead spent his time drinking beers, looking for jobs, and sucking cock. Finals? A girlfriend? Why would he even care about those. He worked as a groundskeeper for decades, doing everything he could to help his coworkers out. He took extra shifts and would help his coworkers relax in the breakroom. Memories of sucking off Phil and his other buddy’s cocks flooded his mind as he developed his new skillset. At last, the pain in his head was replaced by that same euphoric feeling that only served to reinforce his new reality. Even the remnants of Jack that tried to protest felt comforted by his new reality- no more stress, just relaxing, being happy, and making others happy. As such, his eyes dulled as his IQ plummeted and years of schooling evaporated from his mind. A stupid grin formed on his face he resigned himself to being a “cock sucking moron” as Phil had put it.

“Huh yeah not the smartest tool in the shed, that’s for darn sure.” Greg mumbled as the headache dissipated, “Goddamn, well what am I doin’ in here? Ain’t it swim day or somethin’?”

Phil shook his head, “Always cracking jokes. Did you see yourself out there? You couldn’t swim to save your life!” Phil chuckled, “I’ll admit, we gave you a chance today, but if I didn’t save you, you’d be in big trouble.” The large man chuckled.

“But... but I love to swim.” Greg replied, feeling the headache worsen again. The remnants of Jack in this case wanted to resist this. If there was anything that made him who he was, it was his passion for swimming. But the headache seemed to become even worse this time, pounding from deep within his head. New memories of taking extra work on swim day filled his mind. It was okay though, afterwards the guys would buy him some beers and he’d spend time drinking with them. He couldn’t really enjoy swim day anyway- given he wasn’t much of a swimmer. With those thoughts, he could feel his passion for swimming being replaced with a passion for drinking and hard work. Yeah he might’ve been the dumbest of them all, but he was the hardest working employee. And so when swim day would come around, he would do their work. Besides, it wasn’t like he could swim anyway, right?

“Can’t swim...” Greg mumbled, the voice again booming from inside his brain, “Can’t swim...” he repeated. At this point the headache nearly dissipated and again replaced with euphoria as he accepted Phil’s words. Of course he took all their work on swim day! He was a good employee after all, and it wasn’t like he’d enjoy swim day anyway, “Can’t swim to save me life. Never learned how to.”  

Phil smirked, “Well damn buddy, what’re ya still doing here? I got a whole list of things you need to get done. And put some clothes on. Told ya it was stupid to try and wear a speedo.”

Greg nodded, “Yes boss, don’t you worry! Ya’ll enjoy the day, I’ve got ya covered.” He smirked as he eyed his shirtless boss, and his eyes traveled down to Phil’s crotch.

“Nah eyes up here, Greg. I’ll give you a taste later, but only if you’ve done a good job.” Phil replied with a grin.

And so Greg, now feeling extra motivated, pulled on a pair of shorts and a ball cap, both of which Phil had on hand. He quickly left to start his long list of tasks for the day- taking care of the grounds, ensuring work orders were completed, and most importantly to him, making his boss proud. Yeah it was stressful at times, and the guys always made him pick up extra work, but all Greg wanted to do was be the best darn employee he could be.

[atxxzist]

sweetest lies | c.s (02)

prev // next // series m.list

pairing: choi san x f!reader

word count: 7.3k

warning: not any i can think of

a/n: not much drama but lots of trips down memory lane

in all honesty, you can't remember when the line between respect and infatuation started to blur when it came to yunho.

you met him at the age of twelve, just as you were about to enter junior high. you had found him crying outside the choi's residence one afternoon, and was shocked by the news; both of his parents' passing and that he was now one of them, because the choi only had one son and he was nothing like the sweet and obedient boy in front of you.

despite him being younger, you had a lot of respect for him because he was smart and treated everyone he ever came across with only nothing but kindness.

yunho wasn't only well mannered and pleasing to the eyes, but he was hardworking--a trait that made him incredibly easy to like, although you did felt bad at times because you were afraid he was pushing himself to meet the expectations of those around him.

but he was never fazed by any of it--the hard work, or the efforts he had to go to. he simply did it because he wanted to.

by the time he finished high school, he had enough trophies, medals, and certificates to fill his entire room.

yunho💕: can we please talk

the sigh that leaves you is both the contrasting combination of irritation but also relieved, because you weren't sure what was gonna happen after last night.

if you were gonna have to be the one to go out of your way to settle things or whatever they are at this point.

you leave him on seen just long enough to be petty, until another text comes.

yunho💕: i'll come to your workplace after you get out?

y/n: 👍

yunho is there and waiting for you just like he said he would, the moment you catch the other's gaze, you think he must've swallowed down some tension. he usually isn't one who's ever nervous about anything.

it's a lot of awkward fidgeting and humming under breaths until you two agree on a bench just outside of the office, just about when the area's cleared of most of your coworkers.

it's like an air of dreaded silence, considering you've never got into a fight with yunho before, the moment feels never-ending.

"h-how are you feeling?" he asks, everything about his voice to the question surprising you.

a part of you wishes he had said something else, or at least for the delivery to come out meaner just so you'll have another reason to get over him and not think about the million others why you can't.

"how do you think i'm feeling?" you reply, a little snappy in nature that yunho almost wants to be surprise by the tone, but he knows better than anyone that that's just how you are.

you have a way of showing emotions, often times flip flopping between vulnerable and cynical, the latter of which he always believe to be a defense mechanism.

"sorry..." he mumbles, like the word falling out of defeat. "i should've told you sooner. i mean... i was going to."

you can't help the scoff that slips despite yunho doing his very best to make the conversation as tame as a situation like this can be. but you suppose you also hold some rights to complain and be a bitch about it.

"yeah, but you didn't. i had to walk in on you and my own sister myself."

yunho recoils from the sentence, your delivery poking at something he's not sure what is, but he knows he don't like it.

"i didn't know you were coming," is all he says, calm in his voice but also ominous to a degree.

you cross your arms, continuing to stare ahead. the entire time, the both of you haven't looked at the other once.

"i was able to get off early and texted you like a bunch of times."

"i don't always have the constant need to check my phone, so i'm sorry."

he's apologizing, but there's an impatient edge to his voice that if you just continue pushing it, he will burst; at least it feels like it, the undertone of his response not sitting well with you.

a moment of unpleasant silence passes before you speak again.

"so it's true what san told me? all this time, you've always had someone else? and you've never thought of telling me any of it?" that same hurt and betrayal multiplying by the second just bringing up the reminder.

you add on, "and of all people, that someone is my sister? just when exactly did it even fucking happened?"

yunho opens his mouth to say something only to retreat with a sigh instead, waiting for just long enough in order for the appropriate words to strike.

"it just kind of happened naturally, i guess."

naturally. it stings more than it should, the visual in your head of the progression day by day as your sister's smile or small quirks catches the interests of yunho to the point he falls for her, and she falls in return.

that he sees what everyone else sees, and it's the part you hate the most.

the attraction toward one another built on a foundation similar to gravity where one cannot help but to be pulled toward each other. unlike you and yunho. even if you were magnet, he most likely still wouldn't stick.

no matter how much you try pushing the thought away; know that you're being immature and unreasonable, bitter is a feeling you've always acted on.

consumed by the jealousy and rage that your sister once again, took something from you.

"oh... i see," you murmur, yunho could've missed it if he wasn't next to you, but he can hear very clearly how your voice drops after, following with a dry chuckle that makes him turn head.

"tell me, what is so special after her?" you hold his gaze, your head now tilted as the mean and mocking look in your eyes says everything. "what made you fall this hard when i was the one who was actually by your side?"

now you're starting to really push it, yunho doing his best to contain the brewing temper but you have such a way with words that knows how to hit exactly where it hurts.

"she's really that fucking good, huh? that you--"

"--stop talking about your sister like that!"

the outburst takes you by surprise, your body flinching at the sudden crank of volume, yunho sounding and looking the most angry you've ever seen since almost 11 years ago when a group of boys were picking on you.

"can you for once, leave your sister's name out of your mouth?"

his heaving chest and stern look on his face is something entirely new. you didn't even think yunho could ever be this pissed off about anything before.

it leaves you speechless, your mind scrambling for something to say in return just to make yourself feel a little better.

"this is exactly why i couldn't tell you," he says, now calming down but still serious as he runs a hand through the front of his hair. "i knew you wouldn't be able to face the truth."

“because he didn’t want to hurt you,” he unveils, much to your stunned reaction. “he knew you’d lash out and act exactly the way you did when you saw them back at the party.”

"and what would that be?" you push, really setting yourself up for all the hurt and pain that's about to come because yunho is absolutely right.

"that me and your sister love each other."

his words sink in like a bad ache, your brain still refusing to accept the pain receptors but it's all very real. the heavy and uncomfortable sensation running through your chest and the curling of your grip as they tighten.

you don't wish to hear any more of how perfect they are for each other, or more specifically, how more perfect she is for him than you.

"but i love you, too."

it's awful and cringe and makes you regret it the second it comes out, but you literally couldn't think of anything else.

"no..." yunho talks under his breath, shaking his head. "i'm not sure you've ever really loved me."

you draw back slightly, the puzzled expression on like he's accused you of a crime you didn't commit.

"i don't think you love me," he finishes off.

yunho didn't want to tell you (just yet) for numerous reasons. the fact you wouldn't be able to accept the truth is one thing, but he mainly held it back for this long because he didn't want to hurt you.

no matter how frustrating you can be at times, often than most acting on impulse and letting the unreasonable voice in your head get the better of you, he didn't want to be another someone who had let you down.

disappointed you and tossed you away; and for your sister of all people.

he grew up with you and watched as you go from a somewhat lively and carefree person to the one you are today.

how, you actually used to love and care for your younger sister, always by her side to protect her and fend off anyone who thought any less of her.

he's watched and sat through dinners and social events of family members comparing the two of you, able to vividly recall the both embarrassed and sad look on your face when they'd all praise her instead.

how much prettier, smarter, and better she is than you.

and he was definitely there when your parents sidelined you for your sister's accomplishments, over the years also a witness to the relationship that soon turned sour and leaving a huge wall between you guys.

he can't remember the last time you two even spoke to one another without all the lingering tension and bitterness up in the air.

so he more than anyone knows how much of a sore spot just talking about your sister is, the prolonging of the revelation one that is to protect you from the hurt he knew you'd undoubtedly experience.

but he's afraid that it's been going on too long; the need to tear the band aid right off and tell you everything for what it is.

"of course i love you, yunho." your soft tone rips him from the thought and to the desperation in your eyes.

"if you love me then you would be happy for me."

you've never been shy of letting such a thing be known, whether saying it outright or making implications of it. yunho always well aware to the fact that you've been silently hoping he'd take matters into his own hands one day and ask you the long awaited question or say those three words.

but truth be told, even if it wasn't your sister, it would've been someone else.

not because he don't think you are wonderful and worth loving in your own little ways, but because ever since he turned 18 and graduated high school, his cognition much more developed and refined, he was sure of a suspicion he had quite some time ago: that you don't actually love him. at least not for the right reasons.

"how can i be happy for you when it's her of all people? you know how she makes me feel!"

that all or most of it is just to one-up your sister, this twisted game having turned into obsession and masked under the pretense of love, succeeding in convincing yourself to believe it as well.

"i know that you've spent all your life being compared to her, and i understand... but don't you think it's time to grow up a little and start facing those issues?" his voice turns a serious, reprimanding tone without coming off too harsh.

"i'm not some trophy to be won over to prove who's better, and just because i like your sister doesn't make you any less. i'm sorry that the adults were so awful to you growing up, but it's time you start loving yourself. not look to someone else for validation just to feel better temporarily, but i want you to be happy..."

he pauses to catch his breath, an empathetic expression washing over before closing it off.

"i should've told you sooner, i'm sorry. i was a coward. but i don't want to carry any more baggages or be responsible for someone else's entire self esteem. let's free ourselves... from each other."

you stay quiet and yunho's not sure what to make of the lack of reactions, but although he's said everything he's always wanted to, the guilt blooming in his chest weighs heavy; it's always been too easy to sympathize with you.

another reason he's sure made you cling onto him as hard as you did, was because he was really the only person to accept you for who you are.

yunho never asked for anything, or for you to change.

if someone was to tell you that one day, you'd go out of your way to look for san, you would've laughed and told them to go fuck themself.

but you're standing in front of the door to his condo--somehow surprisingly able to recall the location just from the trip earlier today, and silently going over everything currently wrong with your life and how you have no one else to talk to about your problems but san.

the one person you swore up and down to that you wouldn't even give the time of day to if you and him were the last people on earth, but now seeming like the only option.

you place a few knocks but for all you know, he might not even be home. he could be back at his parents' place or fucking off somewhere else.

the door comes apart when you were least expecting it, san's figure standing before you with his black shirt, sweatpants, and hooded beanie.

his rather dull pair of eyes turning a wide one when he sees it's you. it's not everyday that you'd come waddling through the front of his doorstep. or at all.

"i thought christmas is still a month away," he remarks lightheartedly, the comment honestly slipping before he can even fully process the strangeness of the situation, or the fact you obviously look like you had been crying.

"can i come in?" you ask, the soft, vulnerability of the question takes san a step back because he most definitely expected a snide comment in return.

"yeah, sure..." he replies hesitantly, widening the door and moving aside but unable to help but be suspicious that at any given moment, you just might come clear it’s all just a cruel joke.

you stay still in position, gaze fixated on the interior that you saw this morning until you hear the shutting of the door and snaps around.

"missed the place already?" he lets another one slip, a smirk at the corner of his lips that prompts an eye roll from you.

but he might just be doing it because he's not sure what to make of a conversation if you're both not spewing hateful things to each other's faces, or that he just remembered what he said to you this morning and feels just the slightest awful about it.

the complete and utter silence from you makes the scene both uneasy and unsettling, he lingers in the awkwardness for a few more seconds before opening his mouth, only for you to beat him with words that's been dying to get out.

"i'm uhm... i'm sorry," you utter lowly, sounding and appearing ashamed by the way your fingers fiddle with each other at your front, san almost can't believe it.

"pardon?"

"i'm sorry, about this morning."

because all it took for you to realize how pathetically nonexistent your social life is, or that you practically chased off anyone who has ever given the slightest fuck about you, is that other than yunho, you're not sure who else to confine in.

who can stand you and listen to your problems; and now that he's the cause of it, the lack of a support system you have is quite eye opening in a depressing sort of way.

"oh," he says, sounding similar to a whisper and eyes downcasting to the floor for a quick second. "it's fine, really. i didn't think too much of it."

not of what you said because you've definitely spewed worse things before, but he did think a lot about what he said and how carried away he got.

you might've called him a manwhore and told him to fuck off more times than he can count, and he'd retaliate with sensual remarks bordering offensive, but there seems to be some kind of unspoken ground rules between the two of you and he might've broken it.

he still grew up with you nonetheless and holds some weird, sentimental value over the fact.

you just nod, both of your body language so unusual and the atmosphere oddly pleasant.

he breaks the silence with a rather heartfelt apology, "i'm also sorry. that was a really mean thing to say."

"no." you shake your head to rebut. "you were right. i was just in denial."

your mind races back to the departure not even two hours ago, like you can almost hear yunho's voice through the flashback.

"you should probably start heading back. it's cold out here," yunho says, the swift glance at your attire makes him wonder how you're not shivering just yet.

"i can walk you to your car," he adds.

"i'll be fine."

your cold, cut-throat tone stops him dead in his track, yunho only able to stare as he tries to predict your next movement.

"you can go."

the words die in yunho's throat, a tiny protest on the horizon but he knows it's best if he leaves you alone for now. take the time to dwell in your own emotions as you try to process the changes, and eventually and hopefully, accept them.

he nods, clearing his throat the same time he stands up and takes one last look at you, giving into the last thing he wants to tell you.

"i hope you won't think of it as a loss, but instead, i want you to see it as an opportunity to find yourself."

"also, thank you for looking after me last night. if you didn't, i most definitely would've ended up on the news, or worse."

san's stoic expression soon morphs into a somewhat cocky smile at that, one eyebrow raising to complement it.

"this day cannot get any weirder. i mean, not that i'm complaining." he shrugs, and it makes you want to yell at him for ruining the moment.

"no, really. thanks to your stalkerish behavior, i was able to wake up in one piece," you snark playfully, half expecting him to be offended, but it has the opposite effect with his smile growing even bigger.

it's not the first time he so shamelessly takes pride in the fact.

most of your greetings or first words upon seeing him always within the line of "did you follow me?" given ever since your parents got acquainted with the neighbors next door and forced you kids to get along, choi san has had a knack for following you since the mere age of nine.

you still remember his much smaller figure back then trailing behind you and around the entire perimeter of the gated community, annoyingly pleading for you to play with him or else he's gonna wipe his boogers on you.

he was very much a kid of his words and had done exactly what he said he would when you told him to get lost, smudging your new shirt with what he'd call "shrek" because he was a disgusting nine year old boy who liked to name his boogers.

it was the first out of many that you made him cry, retaliating with a hard push to his shoulders that sent his frail body to the cement, and in turn, got you in trouble.

(if you try that now, you'll get it handed to you)

it was the start of your dislike for him that only seemed to grow the older you two got. because san went from being a defenseless little kid whose most threatening act was to tell your parents, to a middle schooler with wider, meaner vocabularies, and by the time he entered high school, you practically had no chance against him.

if he wanted to corner you in a room or put another of his snot on your new shirt, you were just gonna have to put up with it.

"how do you, by chance, always know where i'm at?" you ask genuinely, thinking back to all the instances he just so happened to be there.

"you're predictable," he simply says, making you raise an eyebrow in response, wondering if that's the case or if he just pays way too much attention to you, which, you never fully understood.

you both existed to piss off the other person, but san always knew more about you than the other way around.

"hmm," you dismiss it with a hum, followed by a pretentious act of checking the surrounding because you have a big favor to ask him, and your lips at the moment feels like they don't want to cooperate.

"san," you call even somewhat sweet-sounding, it might be the calmest you've ever said his name, watching as some kind of amusement takes over him and he reacts with a head tilt, hands shoved inside the pockets of his pants, replying with a cool, "yeah?"

"can i stay over? just for tonight?"

you almost expect him to crack a snarky comment, something in the fashion of how he's been waiting for this day where you practically get on your knees and beg for his help, but where you're predictable, san is quite the surprise.

he doesn't drop any smart comments or take the very tempting chance of rubbing your helplessness in your face.

he just nods and proceeds to state, "but you're gonna have to tell me why you're here."

you scoff.

"you literally already know why i'm here."

you think you're gonna go crazy if you have to retell (and relive) yours and yunho's 'relationship', and how disillusioned you were in all of its expectation.

"yes, but i'm gonna need to know how you managed to piss off so many people for you to show up here of all places."

you didn't have many friends growing up, san recalling you being tough as a nail and frightening most of the kids away, girls and boys.

most of the time, if you weren't busy sniffing yunho up who was right by your side, you were alone at a table ripping stickers from sticker sheets and decorating the journal he's seen you with since the first day he got moved to the same school.

he still doesn't know what's in it, but he knows you gave a kid a black eye once when they tried to steal it.

the only other people he's ever seen you with besides yunho, were hongjoong and seonghwa.

it was during his first ever college party, an invitation by a fellow classmate and now friend, mingi.

he might've had far too many drinks that night and a small makeout session that left his shirt wrinkled and neck stained with kiss marks that he just needed to find a restroom and get cleaned up; it being the first party and all.

that was how he winded up near the hallway of you and two males, one of them leaning on the wall with a drink in his hand, and the other debating with you as both of your voices fight to become the dominant one.

none of you guys noticed him as he quickly slipped into the found restroom, too entirely distracted by your own interests.

he assumed they were sophomores just like you, and he was right.

he wasn't as surprised that you were even capable of making new friends, but more so at the fact that yunho wasn't there.

probably the only instances he'd see you at a social or public event without yunho was when you were with them, sometimes even using either hongjoong or seonghwa to locate your whereabouts because you were whatever they were at.

his and your friend group even started banters on the occasion and just do stupid party shit together sometimes.

but by the time you were about to graduate and leave school, you stopped hanging out with them for some reason he never dared to ask.

it was a bummer for sure because san's never seen anyone just click with you as much as they did.

"it's complicated," you tell him when he finally brought up the question, seated across from you on the single sofa while you take occupancy of the big, modular one.

similar to how you've dealt with most of your problems, you don't like talking about it or reopening wounds of the past. but if you're gonna be using san as a getaway, you figure you owe him at least an answer.

something about his current state and attentiveness a telltale sign that you can trust him. though to be frank, you never felt threatened or endangered with san having so many knowledge of you in the palm of his hand. oddly.

you tell him of the last conversation you had with hongjoong before the both of you declared you two were better off without each other.

the conversation a heated one, but neither about stupid politics or gross food combinations.

one that ended nastily and with a lot of bad feelings that leaves enough grudge to fill an entire room, unable to bear the sight of the other for more than a minute at most.

"tonight. at chan's party. he said he can hook up some equipments and i can just bring my laptop. so it's like a reveal party or whatever," hongjoong informs over the phone.

"oh shit, tonight?" you repeat, pacing around your room to find something to wear.

"yeah."

"i uh... i can't," you break the news, catching yourself in the mirror and recoiling almost immediately because you know how much of a shit friend you're about to sound. "i promised yunho we'd catch a movie. i'm actually getting ready right now."

the silence from hongjoong's end makes you nervous, but it wouldn't be the first time you blew him and seonghwa off for yunho.

you realize that day, you have a limit, and it would only be fair that so does others.

"it's just a movie. can't you reschedule?"

the shift of tone going from cheerful and excited to impatient takes you by surprise, having to scramble quickly for what to say in response.

"i can't. yunho's gonna be busy for the rest of the week."

"okay? so am i. it's probably still gonna be in theaters for the next couple of weeks or so anyway."

"i already said i'm going and we're leaving in like 20 minutes," you say, the annoyance in your voice very clear to hongjoong.

"it's a fucking movie, y/n," he states, the more careful tone from before all gone, unable to believe you. "you're acting like it's not gonna be available online a month or two from now."

you fume through your nose, time running shorter as you spend it arguing with hongjoong over the phone.

"and it's a fucking song, hongjoong. show me on your laptop or send it some other time. beside, i already told you i'm not going to another college party for the rest of the year. they're always so filthy, filled with stupid people, and i always end up making bad decisions."

hongjoong scoffs from the other side and you don't miss how dry and sarcastic it sounds.

"i'm asking you to come listen to a song i've been working on for almost two years, not for you to come snort some fucking coke."

"well it's too late. you should've called earlier."

"maybe i should've, but i also thought you were gonna be better than this and not leave your friends for a guy who barely gives a shit about you."

granted, you both did say a lot of fucked up things that day that neither can take back, and you were, undoubtedly, furious at the time (and especially at that comment) and only thought of how to hurt him the same in return.

the guilt passed with time, but you wouldn't ever tell him that you knew you were in the wrong. everything all your fault because you always placed yunho above them despite knowing that deep down, the two cared for you and treated you like family.

they always looked out for you at all parties and never pressured you to do anything you didn't want to. all the stupid, bad decisions were by your own choice because you were too sad and depressed and didn't want to hear any more of your sister's acceptance to one of the big three universities, nor read another email from one of your professors about withdrawing the class before you'd most likely end up with an f.

but you're too prideful, selfish, and a bit ashamed, you won't ever admit it to hongjoong's face. especially not after all these years.

"that's it?" san exclaims after you finished.

"well, yes."

"if you know you were wrong, you should just apologize. nothing good about prolonging some bad blood. especially when it could be easily mended."

you admit the scene is a bit bizarre; san giving you advice and you sitting calmly as you try to digest his words that doesn't trigger a nerve, because for once, it actually sounds somewhat reasonable, though unrealistic (according to you).

but you suppose it's what this night is gonna be all about.

"it's not that easy," you counter, "a sudden apology all these years is... weird."

san chuckles, picking up the manner in which you curl your hands together in your lap as you said that.

it's hard to take your tough act seriously sometimes, because he can see the guilt or fear in your eyes and that you just want to give into it.

"yeah, and look at where that behavior got you," he says, not mean or intending to hurt. if anything, he actually takes sympathy on you "stuck talking to someone you don't even like."

you twitch an eye for a second at that.

"but i'm not having too bad of a time so far."

"hmm," he hums, quick to move the topic along. "i suppose you haven't eaten?"

"i had lunch... a couple hours ago."

well, it was more a snack that you had gotten from the vending machine because there was no time this morning.

"i could probably whip up something real quick."

you watch as he stands up and trails to the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets left and right before a smile quirks up on his lips.

"buldak or shin ramen?" he waves both of the packages as he awaits an answer.

"shin ramen. i don't feel like destroying my stomach tonight."

he nods it off with a light snicker, your lips puckering from the silence after and deciding to throw in a lighthearted tease.

"i thought you were gonna be making steaks or call for delivery."

he looks up from the pot he was washing and sends a smirk your way, completely unfazed.

"i'm a 23 year old guy, of course i don't know how to cook. but if you want to call for delivery, suit yourself."

"if you're gonna be living by yourself, it would be beneficial to learn how. but i'm good with just ramen for now," you reply, eyes moving away to wander the area before fixating on san again.

"you have any extra towels?" you ask.

"should be in the bathroom."

"okay. then i'm gonna head in for a quick shower while you do that."

you can see his nodding from where you're at, stopping as you have the bathroom door halfway open and looking over your shoulder to bother him with one last question.

"uh, do you have any extra shirt and shorts i can borrow? just for tonight. i'll return it by morning. i've just literally been wearing this thing for almost two days now," you refer to the red dress, not as satin or clean as it was yesterday.

your boss almost went into cardiac arrest when you showed up with it, considering the strict dress code, but he took pity of a story you made up and was honestly just relieved you even showed up at all—though you did get a written warning for the late arrival.

"i should. you can go to my room and pick them out for yourself."

you're a tad taken aback by the freewill but thanks him anyway before going into his room and taking the first black t-shirt and shorts you see because it feels wrong in every way even if it isn't.

you catch the sight of him humming a tune under his breath and rocking his head to it before you disappear off into the bathroom, releasing the giggle you've been holding.

"this is definitely overcooked," you pass the comment while examining the soft, mushy, yellow strands of noodles in front of you.

"i might've gotten distracted," san explains, sitting in the stool beside you on the kitchen island where he might've been for a while, it makes you think back to the soft call of your name after you finally got out of the shower and stuffed yourself into his clothings.

"i gotta give it to you. it takes a real lack of skill to mess up something as simple as ramen," you poke fun at him, the words more casually sounding than anything because you're used to putting him down, but still taking a sip of the broth nonetheless because he worked hard on it--more or less.

he smiles it off, and even while guzzling down the noodles, you don't miss the way his gaze lowers to your chest, and then legs, prompting you to cower just slightly because it's just you and san in a big, almost empty condo.

san's good at making you feel a lot of things, but nervous and flustered usually weren't the cases.

"you look good in it," he says casually, your heart bursting in relief because you have no idea what the hell you thought he was gonna say.

you look down at his shirt you're wearing before meeting his eyes again, mustering an unnatural sounding, "thanks."

you return to your food and let the thought die, but san's gaze burning the side of your face makes you snap back.

"what's wrong?" you ask, and you can see him tensing up from the question.

"so what after this?" he breaks it clear and direct, though filled with joy just sitting and talking to you, the air never this nice and pleasant before, he's also curious to an extent. about you and the steps you're gonna take.

you shrug, releasing the spoon and chopsticks in your hold before engaging in a silent stare-off with him.

"i haven't given it much thought. i was kind of busy burying my relationship with yunho, whatever that is."

he lets a quiet hum of acknowledgement coast by, figuring it's fair enough you would need time, only for you to start talking again.

"but there are things i've always wanted to do, too," you tell him a little shy, because it must sound crazy that you also have your own dreams and wants beside yunho's attention.

yunho was many sources of your happiness, but he also held you back in many ways. not he the person, but the ideals and expectaions you've built for him.

you've had a lot of chances and opportunities to better yourself, and you threw them all away for a fantasy in your head.

true friends, ambitions, some sort of true calling that you're not existing just to exist--you don't have any of those at the age of 24.

"yeah? and what are those things?" he asks, so much enthusiam, you want to believe he actually cares what you have to say.

"it's not that big of a dream or goal," you say with a chuckle, like he might find it ridiculous. "i just want to... travel."

you await his reaction, your heart wrapped in a foreign warmth when he just smiles.

"a dream is a dream. no matter how small or big," he comforts you, "but traveling is definitely not anything small. where do you want to go?"

"everywhere," you answer, "i want to go to many places... but preferably anywhere but here."

he cranks an eyebrow.

"you're not planning on running away, are you?" he questions, the delivery innocent enough but also slightly concerned because he thinks there's a chance that might be exactly what you plan to do.

"no," you reply, giggling only shortly.

"i hope you won't think of it as a loss, but instead, i want you to see it as an opportunity to find yourself."

you're still mad at yunho and hate how he chose your sister over you, but if anything, you hate how reasonable and logical he still managed to sound amid all of it.

that you pretty much placed everything else on the backburner just for the hope that his reciprocated love would fix the sorrow and unhappiness you experience on a daily basis.

"just brainstorming," you assure, "thinking about what i can do, now that i don't have to consider yunho and leaving him."

leaving him for your heart's desire, so afraid that you would let the chance slip right through the palm of your hand if you did. but now, there's nothing left to lose and you suppose it's a conflicted and warped up feeling of freedom.

san nods to it, snapping himself out of the trance and catching just how immersed he was to every word that you said.

"i should probably finish the noodles before it gets cold," you say, once you realize how long it's just been sitting there while you two talked.

you get two gulps out of it before you're pulled away by a question.

"why do you care so much about what others have to say about you and your sister?"

he's aware it's a bit blunt and inappropriate considering how well it's going, but he doesn't say it to be mean but because he wants to understand you.

he's been there and has seen as much as yunho have, watching you throw nasty glares your sister's way or growing irritated at the drop of her name.

he knows there's psychology behind how all of this works (that he's unfortunately lacking of knowledge about), but he wants to hear it from you. why you always put yourself down and chooses to live in your sister's shadow when you're as equally capable.

"you wouldn't understand," you mumble, refusing to look him straight in the eyes although he isn't shying away from it one bit, going to pick at the noodles with your utensils.

"if you tell me, i might."

the shift of atmosphere is heavy, the air no longer lighthearted but now serious as silence fills it briefly.

"is it because you're insecure from always being pitted against her?"

you still don't answer, instead taking a bite out of your bowl and hoping he'll just let it pass because you're aware in some ways that you're gonna sound unreasonable, childish, and petty.

just an older sister jealous of her younger one because she's better in every way.

but you've always been one to sit and brew in your own emotions and anger until they eventually turn into something much worse.

"if you want some help, you need to talk to me. i understand you might not want to, but i promise i won't run off with the information or use it against you. i'm much better than what you give me credits for."

you swallow and drop the utensils, facing him on and releasing a sigh.

"yes," you say, "i care so much about what others have to say about me and her because i already know they'll just talk down on me."

"and why would you assume that?" he asks.

you scoff, as if he's making you state the obvious.

"because i always fall behind on everything. even small things like socializing and making friends comes so much more naturally to her," you say, strong at first but tapering out eventually. "but it's not as easy for me... i-i find it hard talking to people or trying to make friends."

and even when you do, you seem to have a habit of driving them away.

san takes a deep breath and stares at you in pity.

"but you shouldn't be measuring your worth based on your sister's accomplishments or setting her as the standard. comparison sucks, i understand. and i know it's easier said than done, but you're great in your own ways. trust me."

you don't say anything back, not because you don't want to, but it's how your heart takes a dive and leaves you speechless hearing san tell you that.

a light pink blush makes an appearance on his cheeks but he's quick to move it along with a clear of his throat.

"what i meant to say is, i've been there before. you really think i was spared any of it when yunho of all people is my stepbrother and i'm the biological son?"

you suppose if she was your stepsister instead, it might be a lot worse.

but with san, he's always been nonchalant like nothing ever bothers him. it would be a lot easier for him to dismiss it.

"well if only i could be as carefree as you," you mumble.

"it definitely bothered me at first, but i didn't see why i should be losing sleep over it. me and yunho are two very different people after all who does our own things. i'm proud of what he's achieved so far, and he's always had my back when needed."

when the night drags on and you're both getting too tired for overwhelming conversations, you go to bed in the spare bedroom after helping him clean up and let today's event sink in. so many things to process at once.

despite all of yours and san's history and indifferences, you can admit that there may be a thing or two you can learn from him.

so unusual seeing his irritating and cunning self turn so much more soft and empathetic, you're starting to feel bad for all the times you've cursed his name over simple mishaps.

thinking back to what he said earlier and being surprised he even had the kindness to do so.

"comparison sucks, i understand. and i know it's easier said than done, but you're great in your own ways. trust me."

that san would be able to make one of your worst days into something a lot less worse and even comforting.

then you think about yunho, wondering if he's right about the fact you never loved him, before drifting off.

--

when san wakes up in the morning, he almost forgot you had stayed over until he makes way into the kitchen and the yellow sticky note plastered on the front door takes his attention.

thanks for letting me stay the night :) you're kind of pleasant to be around when you don't think with your dick. btw i left your clothes in the laundry basket. see you around i guess - y/n

next // series m.list

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[ghoulangerlee]

the cumulus is in a rut and cirrus is in heat fic :)

contains: cunnilingus, fingering, ladies in love, the concepts of heats and ruts without it being overly there, a very brief mention of cirrus's breeding kink but it's only a mention, and wings :)

WOMEN!

==

Cumulus feels...heat, uncomfortable, a pressure building in her lower stomach—all encompassing.

Dutifully, she checks her calendar, the small hard cover planner she keeps with her, flipping through well worn pages until she finds the right date and well.

Well. She's at the beginning of it, her rut. Five days. The first two make her skin feel uncomfortably tight, like she's being stretched thin over her own bones. The third one is when she starts to really feel it. When she needs a partner to help her satiate the hunger.

The fourth and fifth day, well, she doesn't want to think about those right now, already feeling on a sort of hair trigger since she'd rolled out of bed this morning.

She goes on about her day, mostly, feeling a bit listless as she does—she catches a sympathetic look from Dew, allowing him close enough once to scent her, a low purr rumbling in his chest.

"It'll be okay, Cu," Dew murmurs, and he's never been terrible at comfort despite what he thinks, his arms settling loosely around her shoulders in a hug.

Cumulus allows herself to lean into it—they're not incompatible, but her body yearns for something that Dew can't give her right now. She's grateful though, for the comfort, his steady scent not spiking in any way, arousal or otherwise.

(She's only mildly afraid of what she could be capable of if she were to catch the scent of arousal so soon.)

"I was going to go down to the lake, it's a nice day out. Do you wanna come?" Dew murmurs into her hair.

Cumulus wants to shake her head, pull from his embrace and go lock herself in her room for a bit while the fire in her belly licks tantalizingly at her very being.

"It'll be good for you," Dew needles her gently, he's not pushing but he's not backing down in her silence. "You know how stinky the church gets when everyone starts waking up for the day. Do you really want to subject yourself to that?"

She doesn't, is the issue, and Dew knows this.

"Yeah, okay, at least let me pack a bag first so I have a few things." She finally settles on, briefly mourning the closeness of Dew when he finally pulls back.

"Sure thing," he says, smiling at her. "I'm going to go pack a lunch. I'm feeling like a nice relaxing day at the lake is in order. Probably won't be able to drag myself out of the water for lunch, later."

Cumulus nods and allows herself to calm down at the prospect of being only surrounded by nature and the one ghoul who's nearly perfect at keeping his scent in check.

They split ways, only long enough for Cumulus to pack a few things; a book and a towel, she throws a swimsuit in as a last minute thing, just in case she gets needled into swimming with Dew—she also changes into something lighter, a flowy t-shirt and a pair of shorts, the material soft and comfortable against her skin.

When she exits her room a little bit later, Dew's waiting at the end of the hall, a brown basket sitting at his feet and a blanket folded over his arm; he's also dressed down, casual in swim trunks and a tank top—he's glamoured, much like she is, so his skin is pale and lightly freckled from his time in the sun.

"There you are," Dew says with a smile, soft and friendly as he scoops the basket up again, "Ready?"

She smiles in return and goes over to him, nudging her shoulder against his, "Ready."

Together, they head down to the lake, only running into a couple of siblings who offer waves to them before carrying on—Cumulus is glad for this, unsure if she could stand the small talk today, already so on edge from the heat running through her veins.

The lake is peaceful and quiet, there's a slight breeze though the sun shines high in the sky, warming the entire area—quietly, they set everything up, Dew spreading the blanket out on the pier, placing the basket on one of the corners and motions for Cumulus to make herself comfortable.

She does, her rut still burning below her skin, in her veins, a steady reminder that it's there and setting in, but she's able to lie back on the blanket, eyes fluttering closed as the sun bears down on her.

She doesn't see Dew, but she can smell when he removes his shirt, dropping it into a pile near her; not close enough for his scent to bother her, but close enough that it offers some sort of comfort to her—and then, there's a splash, a whoop of laughter as Dew comes up to the surface of the water.

She can smell his happiness, the warm and rich scent making her purr softly, she's not providing for him, she doesn't provide for another who goes into rut, but being part of his happiness, of his own way to relax on a day off makes her happy too.

Cumulus dozes on the pier, warm and happy in the sun as the sounds of Dew splashing around the lake fade into nothingness.

It's the first reprieve that she's had since waking this morning to the burning beneath her skin.

At some point, she wakes up—slowly, like all of her limbs are underwater. She stays horizontal and rolls over onto her side, Dew's sitting a distance away from her, bare chested and watching the clouds float through the sky. There's an unwrapped sandwich next to him and a bottle of water.

Her stomach growls and Dew glances over at her, a serene smile on his face, "Hey sleepy head," he says, and then he tilts his head towards the basket, "Food's in there. Should still be good. Cirrus packed you something special when I told her you were coming down here with me."

Something clenches in her belly at that, a low rumble of a purr in her chest as she slowly sits up, stretching her limbs out.

In the basket, there's something wrapped in a checkered napkin, and Cumulus can smell the remains of Cirrus's scent on it when she pulls it close—she doesn't think too hard about the date written in green sparkly pen in her calendar, the one that matches up with her own in matte blue ink.

It's just a sandwich, but it's a somewhat indulgent one with pepper spiced turkey, lettuce, tomato and green apple slices, a light spread of mayonnaise on one side of the bread and the barest hint of cream cheese on the other.

It's her favorite.

She tears into it with a ravenous hunger, the bread, meat, vegetable and fruit melting away under her teeth—it's easily the best thing she's ever eaten, fisting the napkin in one of her hands as if hoping the rest of Cirrus's scent would rub away into her skin.

"So, tomorrow, you think you'll be okay? I mean, I could make more time for you, obviously. Maybe go bird watching or whatever it is you air ghouls like to do," Dew says, humor in his tone as he teases her. "But, I do have a hot date with a water ghoul later, so if I'm needed it'll have to be early morning."

"Swiss likes bird watching and he's mostly an outlier," Cumulus says around a mouthful of food. "But no, I think this time may be different." She squeezes the napkin tighter in her hand, "I believe I'm being courted."

Dew gives her a funny look, "Aren't you and Cirrus already mated?" He asks, narrowing his eyes. "You do that whole mated pair thing already."

Cumulus snorts softly, "Come on, Dew. Don't tell me you've never tried to spice things up with someone you've been together with for a long time." She says, and then she smiles, soft and gentle, "It's a thing we do. Every couple hundred years. Sometimes I court her when she's about to go into heat. Sometimes she courts me when I'm going into a rut. Depends on what we're feeling."

"That's disgustingly domestic of you two. Though I think you ladies may be the outlier here." Dew says with a shrug. "Personally, my longest courting has been since I've been summoned. So, for only a few years. I don't think it's been long enough to do it again." He gets a sort of thoughtful look on his face, "Might take Aether by surprise if I started trying to court him again."

Cumulus finishes her sandwich and folds the napkin up carefully, tucking it into the collar of her shirt, "I forget that compared to us, some of you are babies," she says with a little laugh.

"Uh huh," Dew says with a roll of his eyes, before he fishes out another bottle of water from the basket and tosses it in her direction.

Cumulus bares her teeth at him as she catches it, "I'm just saying, it's nice sometimes, to fall back into old habits with someone you care about."

Dew has a thoughtful look on his face, he's not looking at Cumulus anymore, but towards the sky, "Huh," he says slowly. "You and Cirrus have been together for...a while, yeah?"

"Millennia." Cumulus says, as if she's talking about some small and insignificant number of years. "Swiss too, but he was. Well, he was later. A couple hundred years later." She smiles, a soft and private thing, "Cirrus and I have seen the rise and fall of many civilizations, both here and in the pits."

"Huh." Dew says again, "Maybe you are onto something, birdy."

Cumulus laughs then, light and happy, feeling warm and content as she settles back onto her back again. "Guess you better listen to me then, waterbug."

Dew scoffs at the name, but soon the conversation grows quiet and Cumulus's eyes flutter closed again, another round of tiredness pulling at her.

-

The next day she wakes up warmer than before, naked and pressed against Cirrus's back, nose right against where her scent is thickest.

A chirp, soft and content, Cirrus's hand coming back to comb through her unruly hair—the haze of heat overtaking as Cumulus leans into her touch.

She can smell the scent of heat just burning under Cirrus's skin, the need to provide calls deep from in her bones as she presses closer, rolling them until Cirrus is on her front and Cumulus can stretch out across her back, blanketing her—pressing her down against the bed as she does.

Cirrus purrs loudly, content to let Cumulus keep her there. She folds her arms and pillows her head on them, face turned to the side—her features lax and open, happy.

With an answering purr, Cumulus leans down and nuzzles into her jaw, feeling soft downy feathers against her own as she does—before her brain goes too much, she makes a note to have Cirrus sit up later, have her wings on display so she can properly groom them, the most basic act of love of their kind.

Cirrus angles her head, tipping it to the side, purring louder as she puckers her lips, urging Cumulus down with the pout of her lips—she's eager to comply, pressing their lips together sweetly in a chaste kiss.

For a while, they stay like this, trading kisses back and forth, Cirrus's purrs loud and content as she lounges under Cumulus—basking in the weight against her back, the press of bare skin against bare skin.

Warmth surrounds the two of them, scents thickened with pheromones; at some point, Cumulus urges Cirrus up into a sitting position, coaxes her to drop her glamour fully so her wings are out.

She starts at the base of one wing, careful as she coaxes the messy feathers into order until Cirrus is warm putty under her touch, sagging forward as her wings twitch with each pass of her fingers through the feathers.

It's quiet except for the low song that Cumulus is humming, something she'd written on her own, a gentle ode to her love for Cirrus—there's no words, but neither of them need words to convey feelings anymore.

As she finishes one wing, she moves onto the next, spends a considerable amount of time putting all the feathers into order, plucking out the ones that have become a nuisance, Cirrus's scent is warm and sweet, her eyes drooping and sleepy; a true sign of trust and intimacy.

Cumulus keeps an eye on Cirrus, knows when her heat hits that she goes mostly nonverbal, choosing to mostly speak through their bond if she needs to, prefers to give into her instincts—she keeps such a front up when around everyone else, a proper shoulder to lean on, someone who can be firm, a leader.

But here, when they're together, when the press of heat is under her skin, when she's in Cumulus's arms, she allows herself to give up control, trusts that Cumulus knows what she needs, what's best for her.

Knows how to take care of her.

At some point, Cirrus finds herself stretched out on her back, her wings spread out under her while Cumulus's own flare out behind her.

Cumulus has a knee between Cirrus's legs, draws her into a sweet kiss as she shifts closer, presses the heft of her thigh right against Cirrus's cunt.

Cirrus makes a noise into the kiss, claws at Cumulus's arms, at her sides, presses her fingers into soft skin as she grinds down against her, panting as the heat overtakes her, as her mind goes hazy and dumb with it.

It's such a treat, to have her like this, desperate and needy, wet and sticky, messy and Cumulus deepens the kiss, reaches down between her legs and presses her fingertips against the stiff point of her clit—the sudden pressure making Cirrus shudder, a wounded noise tearing its way through her chest as she comes.

Always so easy the first time, Cumulus thinks with some delight, happy that she's able to provide this for her mate. It makes the low burn of her own rut flare up, she doesn't need anything just yet though, content to take Cirrus apart over and over again.

When Cirrus's legs stop shaking, Cumulus pulls her fingers away, brings them up to her lips and takes a moment to taste, humming happily as the thick scent of her mate coats her tongue, worms its way into her senses, her very being.

"Cu," Cirrus mumbles out loud, half delirious, one hand shoved against her shoulder, trying to urge her downwards, "Your mouth, please," she manages to get out.

Cumulus shushes her, kisses her again and they share the taste of Cirrus's slick for a moment, Cirrus's hand getting more insistent and pushy as she tries to redirect Cumulus once more—so she goes, easily, pulls away from the kiss and slinks down the bed, settles on her chest between Cirrus's legs, mouthing kisses along her inner thighs.

There's a litany of praises, of pleases in Cumulus's mind, all coming from her bond with Cirrus as she moves higher and higher until she's able to mouth over her cunt, drag the tip of her tongue along the seam of her lips, a little bit of a tease as she uses two fingers to spread them just enough to drag the flat of her tongue over Cirrus's clit.

Cirrus's hand drops to her hair, not tugging or pulling though, just resting there, keeping her close even as Cumulus continues to tease her with slow little kitten licks, gentle touches even though Cirrus feels like she's burning up from the inside.

Only when a white falls from Cirrus's mouth, sad and despondent, does Cumulus give in, firming up her tongue, each pass along her clit now slow and sensual as she works two fingers into her slowly, curling them upwards—it's just enough to fill Cirrus up, just enough to sate her need but not enough to get her off just yet.

It's perfect, in a maddening way as Cirrus's fingers pet along Cumulus's scalp and she hooks a leg over Cumulus's shoulder, using her heel to pull her closer until Cumulus's face is right against her, her hand squished between them even as she continues to undulate her fingers inside her.

She's begging, she realizes, unsure if out loud or through the bond, the fire in her veins calling for more and Cumulus provides, she happily provides as she presses another finger into her, stretching them and curling them, pressing upwards as she sucks at her clit.

The force and suddenness of this orgasm catches the both of them off guard, Cirrus gushing around Cumulus's fingers, wetting her chin and throat easily, her wrist, her entire hand.

Cirrus makes an urgent noise, tugs, tugs, tugs until Cumulus comes up, knees over her and Cirrus hooks a leg around her waist now, pulls their lower bodies together as she offers up her mouth in a filthy kiss, licking the taste of herself from Cumulus's tongue.

They make out for a bit, Cirrus making happy noises into each kiss, her hand tight in Cumulus's hair to keep her their as their hips rock together minutely—Cirrus can feel the tell-tale signs that Cumulus is affected by all of this, by her own rut, by Cirrus's heat.

It doesn't happen often, only when their cycles line up like this, but Cirrus can feel it, the way Cumulus's clit is hard, peeking out from between her folds, engorged and hot, it nudges between her folds, against her clit with each grind upwards, she's making noises into each kiss, soft little uh uh uhs that have Cumulus purring happily, too content to part ways.

They don't really need to breathe anyway.

She doesn't push even if she wants to, wants to beg Cumulus to fuck her, to fill her, to breed her, make her belong to Cumulus once again after all these years together—she has to stop the train of thought, before it spills over into the bond, but it must anyway because Cumulus laughs softly, musically, pulls away from the kiss and whispers soon against her slack mouth, grinding down against her like she's already trying to make room inside her.

It's wet and slick between them, Cirrus can smell the thick scent of Cumulus's arousal now mixed with her own, she wants to bury her face between Cumulus's legs where the scent is the thickest, take her into her mouth until she's ready to fuck—she whines out loud, grips tight at Cumulus's hips as she comes again, the insistent nudging of Cumulus's clit against hers too much to handle.

She clenches around nothing and briefly mourns, but Cumulus is once again a beautiful, wonderful mate because she reaches between them and stuffs three fingers into Cirrus again, quickly brings her off once more so Cirrus has something to clench around.

It's bliss. True and utter bliss.

"Lovely, lovely," Cumulus murmurs, kissing along her hairline as she comes down again, shuddering as she leaves her fingers inside, curling them just enough so it feels like she's able to hold them. Like they're going to plug her up and keep her full until the heat subsides.

Cirrus purrs happily, loud and content as she allows Cumulus to smother her in kisses, little pecks along her skin as her heat subsides for now, now that she's come and she's full.

Cumulus presses one last kiss to her mouth, pulls back and smiles down at her, "Good?" she asks, she keeps her arm as still as she can, there's an ache in her wrist, in her elbow but she settles down against Cirrus again, pressing her into the bed, "Good, mate?"

"Good," Cirrus mumbles back, turning her head to nuzzle Cumulus's cheek. "Sleepy now."

"Of course, love," Cumulus murmurs, feeling her own rut start to sink its claws into her, but she pushes it down, ignores it for now, "Rest now."

Later on, she'll have Cirrus present for her, she'll grind against her, fill her up until the two of them are locked together as one while Cirrus goes pliant and soft underneath her.

For now, she presses one last kiss to Cirrus's lips, soft and sweet and full of love and drifts off into a light sleep.

[ask-ginger-chara]

How do you feel about your new situation? Any advice for other introjects?

I've been part of this system for several years now(I'm actually the oldest alter in our system), so I've had a lot of time to acclimate. But I still remember when I first. . . Appeared? For lack of a better term. And it was difficult, certainly. Lots of confusion.

I was reminded of when Frisk woke me up, back at my grave in the ruins. It was a very similar feeling of confusion and anger and worry. And things were a lot more chaotic back then, both inside Headspace and out, so that made things more stressful. Not to mention that back then, I was much closer to the Chara everyone fears than I am today; I'd like to think I've mellowed with age.

But since then, things have calmed down considerably, Headspace is a lot calmer/more stable, and I've become what I'd like to think of as 'the best version of myself'. And while it's not the life I knew or remember, or the life I would have chosen, I'm fairly happy with it all the same.

Plus, the Becoming (for lack of a better term) of our newer alters was much less stressful and painful for them than it had been for me, which is proof of how far we've come, so I'm fairly happy with that.

As for advice for other introjects? I have a couple things to say:

Firstly, don't worry about whether you're real or not. Your past your memories, all of that. Those events may not have happened in the outside world, but they happened to you. They're your memories, and they're real enough to you, and that makes them valid.

Secondly, don't try too hard to be who you think you're supposed to be. This is something I struggled with in the early days, I thought I had to present and act the way people thought a Chara was supposed to, confirm to their views of how I should think and act and be, just so I could get their validation and prove that I'm real and not faking it. Dumbest thing I've ever thought. Be you. Your real self. Do what feels right to you, and don't let the opinions of others change that.

Because despite everything, it's still you.

[invinciblerodent]

currently kinda chomping at the bit a little over two lines I found while re-reading my old Dragon Age fic notes that never ended up seeing the light of day-

"It is better to die thinking you were right, than to be faced with the wrongness of your actions."

and

"Andraste's Herald, Andraste's punishment."

and I hope against all hope that I didn't fucking doom myself to needing to make a fucked up decision in Veilguard the moment I decided that my (overall good, but impulsive, passionate, and somewhat naive) Inquisitor (who had just learned that he was used, lied to, and stabbed in the back by one he thought a good and respected friend)(and was a Reaver hopped up on a bucket of adrenaline) would stumble through that last Eluvian more or less blinded by pain, fear, and a murderous rage

like.... I'm sure he's calmed down quite a bit since then. he was barely 25 during Trespasser and will be like 33-34-ish during Veilguard, he's a whole-ass different person. he's been through the mental health ringer, a year(s?)-long obsessive chase, and an additional 5-6 years of mutual domesticity with the love of his life. surely what he once said in anger isn't reflective of his feelings now, and it isn't going to come back to bite him square in the ass.

like, he's a good, forgiving man. his judgements (all of which Solas was there to see) are evidence that he has an endless supply of second chances he isn't frugal with handing out. but for that, he needs to be able to think about it, and in that moment... oh, boy, in that moment, he was not thinking about it.

"I'm coming to stop you", in that moment, is such a perfectly Ray thing to say, I can't even bring myself to change it in my headcanon, but the closer release draws, the more anxious I get, and the more I hope that that moment's slip won't cost him his life.

(maybe I'll just headcanon in that it haunts him, too, that moment. not just in the "I should have ran him through while I still could" sense, but also in the "I shouldn't have said that- I don't know what would have been the right thing to say, but I shouldn't have said that" sense.)

(maybe he sometimes still lies awake at night, listening to Dorian's soft breathing beside him, and replays that moment over and over in his mind- but every time, he stops before he could say those words. as if to hope that if he thinks hard enough, if he's just clever enough, he can retroactively will into existence a line that'll stop all this madness before it would have ever began. as if coming up with the right words in the right sequence then and there could have convinced Solas to stop, step back, and let it all rot where it stands.)

(It's wishful thinking, but despite knowing that if it comes down to a choice, I know very well what he'll pick, god, do I hope he makes it through this alive.)

me @ my already-darling Rook right now-

[relastelvanni]

📖 2022

The week leading up to Christmas 2021, I was unwell. I was feeling very fatigued and burnt out as we all were. There wasn’t a lot of sun so I was likely Vitamin D deficient, right? Also I somehow lost 10 lbs between October and December without trying which didn’t match what I was eating - probably stress? Oh, but I feel really thirsty, and I can’t seem to quench it… that’s an odd symptom I can’t explain with burnout. It was that symptom that made me test my fasting blood sugars and sure enough, they were way over into diabetic levels.

🚨

On Hogmanay as I rushed to get my booster before the bells, I also went to the GP as an emergency for my blood test. The results came back and my GP wanted to talk urgently. On Jan 5th I was officially diagnosed with Type 2 Diabetes and put onto metformin straight away. This began a whirlwind of a year.

On the outside I seemed calm, on the inside I was a ball of emotion, but mostly shame. Shame that after years of warnings this could happen, I had to tell people what had happened. I felt guilt for making people around me worry for my health. I wanted to prove to everyone that I was okay and they didn’t have to worry about me. Maybe not a healthy attitude to take but from the moment I left that Doctor’s surgery and took a 2.5 mile walk home, I decided I was going for remission, end of.

I immediately went on a low carb diet of 130g of carbs a day and stuck to it religiously, I did not break 130g or tried not to. No cheat days, no snacking. Again, perhaps not the healthiest thing to do but I couldn’t bring myself to eat high carbs again. I started walking a lot more, walking three miles home from work in the winter. I went swimming, I got a bike through the cycle to work scheme. But most of all was the diet. It was tough and there were times I felt like crying. But my head told me “I put myself in this situation, you don’t deserve sympathy”. Urgh, silly head.

But despite that negative mindset, the physical side improved quickly. My sugars fell rapidly most importantly and as a by-product, I lost 15 lbs in the first month, followed by another 15 lbs in the second, starting at 255 lbs and ending March around 210.

Now those who know me will know I had no problem with my weight before - I was very happy as a chubby person because I went on a journey over the past few years of learning to love my body, throw off the shame I held against my body and show it off at the beach and the pool etc. So the weight loss for me was such a sudden shift in mindset too. I was back very quickly to a body I had before I learned to love my body… and societal pressure came back. That’s been a struggle this year is loving my new body without need for validation externally.

But in terms of the diabetes, by the end of March, I had my hbA1c checked again… and I was no longer diabetic! I had managed, with the tablets, to get the diabetes into remission. I can’t tell you how proud I am to have got to this point. All the hard work and hardship I put my mental state through was worth the result.

Over the next three months I relaxed the diet a wee bit and let myself eat a little more, but no where near the levels I was at before. My weight finally stabilised at around 180 lbs which is where I’m at now, meaning in total from max weight, I’ve lost 85 lbs in the last year. But more importantly, at the end of June, my HbA1c was still at a non diabetic level, this time without medication.

Since June, my weight has been stable, my sugars are still down, I’ve taken up badminton 2-3 times a week to keep me active physically (and mentally too). I feel fantastic physically and I’m so happy I’ve managed to turn around the diabetes. I still need to work on my mental state and work on some of those troublesome feelings I had at the start of the year as well as others. But aye, long post, but I’m still here, still going. Hopefully 2023 I’ll stay in remission. All the best to everyone 💛

[globofhoney]

Seeing my past-self in the mirror

Ramattra x fem! human! Reader

(post Null sector scenarios where Ramattra finally let go of his extreme hatred for human, and realized how much damage he had done to those who have done nothing wrong in the first place, now it is his turn to get all the hatred)

Ramattra knows well that you hated him, that black place in your heart seems to reserve just only him and no-one else. It all happened, because of one act of distrust and violence he had done, impatience, and anger makes him completely cease to exist in her eyes.

His actions imprint on her mind like a dark shadow. An angel to everyone around, humans and omnics alike, but not...him, not even Zenyatta could take away the scornful fury from her heart.

"Maybe you should leave her be, brother, perhaps in time, she will finally let go of the grudge and forgive you"

"Or perhaps i was right about human, they're hateful and unable to forgive"

Despite saying that out loud, Ramattra hope that you will come around, but no such luck. He already said sorry and was straightforward on wanting to get along, but you hardheaded female flesh-bag just make it so darn hard for him.

At that time, she already put on an image of him being a killer robot who shoot first and ask later. And it would probably still on her mind.

"You hurt her, brother, she needs more time"

"But i already apologize, what would you have me do?"

"Be patience, be kind, and importantly, be honest with your feelings, and with her"

He doesn't understand himself...why would he want to keep the she-human close, for all terrible things he had done, he believes that the only way to make things right, is to protect her. Maybe he wants to be treat kindly like the rest who did not stirred her fury. To see that sincerity, to feel...that connection he never felt before.

But as the time pass, those thoughts of keeping the human safe start to grow on him like a thorned vines creeping on the stone wall, it becomes his ideal...his obsession. A deep feelings that never get reciprocated in return.

"why do you want to have her attention if she dislike you this badly? You can always respect her desire to be left alone and move on, yet you persisted"

It would be joyful if she comes close

It would be bliss if she speaks to him like she does the others

All he wants...is forgiveness, to love her...and to be loved by her.

But all he got is berating words from his hateful little lady.

'Null sector scum'

'Soulless machine'

'Children killer'

'War beast'

It would be less hurtful if the one who say those things are not you. When you lose your temper, Zenyatta is the one who have to calm you down in order 'not' to let you slip any heartbreaking words to Ramattra, after all, you are very good at bring up the most painful memories to remind him of his mistakes, since you experienced it all by yourself before.

"I want to keep you safe"

"I don't trust you"

...

"Are you warm enough? I can get you a blanket"

"I can get it myself"

...

"Do you want to-"

"stop bothering me, soulless scum, begone"

...

He tried his best, and the results brings him nothing but sadness, anger has been long forgotten now that the overwhelming feelings is pain and anguish.

"I'm sorry..."

" ...you shall find no forgiveness from me, for the lives of the innocence you had taken cannot be return, and i will be here...reminding you every last bit of it"

[mysteriawrites]

Matchup for @burntchamomile

HiHi thanks for the request now for the moment you’ve been waiting for DRUMROLL PLEASE!!!

🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁

DAN HENG!!!

(yeah not enough star rail men rn for everyone to get someone different despite how hard I tried so yall just gonna have share till my next shipment of handsome men comes in ok?)

Dan Heng won’t say it all the time, but he enjoys having you around a lot. Despite your sometimes chaotic nature, he likes how he can talk to you about shared interests and that, when necessary, you help him wrangle in March (he’s like the strict mom and you’re the chill dad).

When you first join the nameless after the left (insert home planet here I suck at naming things) it took you a little bit to warm up to the express crew. You mainly stuck by Himeko and Pompom or stayed your room. Dan Heng doesn’t really go out of his way to make friends or be anyone else’s business unless necessary, so he left you alone and didn’t pry.

One day (or night it’s hard to tell in space) you were in the passenger car alone reading a philosophy book. That piqued his interest. He walked over to you and tried his best to make his presence known without startling you, but Dan Heng is one of those people who are good at startling people, even if unintentionally, because he is so silent.

You turn around spooked until you realize it’s only Dan Heng. After you calm down, he asks if you’re reading and then you two discuss the theories in the philosophy book. Before you know it you’re having full on debates and really enjoying yourself.

After that’s when you become more comfortable with Dan Heng and you share your other interests with him (and a few random facts). He doesn’t realize he’s on love with you until your trip to Belabog.

Despite the dire situation you guys had just gone through Dan Heng couldn’t help but be mesmerized in the snow climate of Belabog. You and March played together in the snow with the moles and other children. He loved how your eyes light up and the tinkling sound of your laughter and that’s when he knew.

Dan Heng doesn’t confess until after your adventure in the Zhianxou (since that piece if story isn’t out yet I’ll leave that up to interpretation for now) when he realized although he may live a long life you will not, and life is too short to keep his feeling bottled inside.

At first you and Dan Heng have a pretty playful relationship, but you two are a little afraid to talk about your feelings. After learning about Dan Heng’s past you disclose your own and you comfort each other and promise to help each other move on from your pasts and embrace a brighter future.

Dan Heng reminds you that you yourself need love sometimes and if you stretch yourself too thin helping others you won’t be able to help anyone (i have to remind myself too). You remind Dan Heng not to fight all his battles alone despite how much he wants to protect everyone because those who truly love you want to help.

On a lighter note, you and Dan Heng usually spend dates just hanging around each other. Even if you’re both doing something different, you’ll be cuddling up to each other, he’ll play with hair, or you’ll play with his hands. Another date option is walking around and exploring whatever new planet you’re on (while March takes photos of you while you’re not looking for you to remember forever even if you’re shy right now).

You and Dan Heng are an emotional power couple. Able to turn your weaknesses into each other’s strength. You also protect each other physically during altercations with the anti-matter legion on your quest to seal stellerons. Dan Heng will not let anyone hurt you, even if that means facing his worst fears.

[roguestarsailor]

ranting more about my job while im crying in frustration and anger

im still mad! im mad the tiny pieces of GD work i've been given i cannot fucken do. i have to tear my attention away from what i actually WANT to learn to focus on stupid install guides.

and then when i do get the chance again to do the GD work i want, i make soooo many mistakes. they aren't always big mistakes but they are still mistakes and can cause delays and extra cost to re-print and/or ship and it makes me upset and ashamed. nobody gives me that much shit for it but its so unprofessional and i dont like messing up. i think i was frustrated with myself for a long time and being afraid of that work because i didn't want to mess up and have everyone be disappointed in me.

no now i firmly believe that im making these mistakes because i was never taught to look for these errors and don't do enough work to solve these mistakes on my own!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! G takes over all this work and i never get a chance to look at it and the only time is when hes on PTO and the responsibility gets placed on me and i have to pretend to think like him so that i can produce something that's similar to his work. but i cannot do that well because i simply DO NOT KNOW WHAT HE DOES. i just see what he produces and i copy that. what kind of fucken designer am i if i continue to do that??? where i cant fucken think for myself??? that i can't trust my own judgement? where im constantly insecure about my choices because its different than what it has been??

i resent him. he talked so up and down about being a mentor figure to me and that his title means that he had intentions to be a leader and yet????? ?????? hello!! im just a junior version of him and i am NOT learning shit and i DON'T feel supported and I don't feel included and ALL I AM IS MAD. all im building is resentment and im going to explode!!

im also going to rock the boat so hard when i suggest that the IDers take back their responsibility. i know for a fact when i suggest this, everyone is going to be like "well young lady calm down now lets be rational here" (ok no they won't but it'll be that same energy) cuz NOBODY WANTS TO DO THIS TYPE OF WORK! its brainless!! BUT YET these IDers CREATED this product from the start to finish and work closely with engineering; they will know which screw goes where and it is just easier. i have to learn every product from scratch and have to ask them to create assets for me if i need certain views and then constantly get dog piled on by feedback that says oh that screw doesnt move but that screw does, oh that isn't the right screw, oh this wire is suppose to move here and all this shit. then on top of G's feedback where he's like give me this view of this product doing XYZ and then more details shot of ABC, oh this detail is off, this detail is also off, copy from this previous install guide we did it this way so now do it the same way despite not having the asset for it (and what i'm suppose to go dig through all those folders from years past???) all of it!! its just piles and piles of comments from everyone demanding i do all these things and i want to cry (no i am straight up crying)!! nobody outside of this internal team respects me for this and theres just so fucken many of them.

none of this makes me feel accomplished. this makes me feel SAD.

--

i hate that ive been crying so much about this. this is why my job sucks and this is NOT what i signed up for. i have to go fucken job hunting now just so i have a cushion if i bring these things up and our talks go south. i do like it here and i want to stay but at what cost??? i literally have to find meaning outside of work to feel like my life means something. walking into work to do this shit is not it and not worth it. i left my first job because i was so unfulfilled and learned nothing so why the fuck am i doing the same. this time when i fall into depression, i dont have support i'll literally just rot and im so scared of that.

[lovenliterature]

My heart is aching. I went in to the room where she used to live, with the handprints of people she used to love upon the walls. I climbed the ladder and sat in her tiny bed, looking at the things she treasured, deemed important enough to display where she would see them every day.

My heart breaks. My heart breaks for all I have lost, for the parts of her that are gone and could never come back. I think about her innocence, her naivety and her fearlessness. I wish I'd kept that bravery for myself. What I have now is different, it is leaping despite the fear of the danger instead of flinging myself into the unknown with reckless abandon. Still, I wish I had her confidence.

I listen to songs she loved and think of the girls she loved, knowing she would be told it was wrong, knowing she could never be with them but loving them with all her heart anyway. I think of the sacrifices she made, that she wouldn't even consider sacrifices.

I think of the times she used to sit on the cold floor, tears running down her cheeks, blood dripping down her arms and pain in her soul. I think of all the thoughts swirling around her head, telling her now matter how much she did, she would never be good enough, she would never play that part, she would never live that life. I guess those thoughts were truer than she realised.

I think of how fiercely she loved, without regard for heartbreak, not knowing how to love without bearing the burden of others. She sat there with a hollow stomach, an anxious brain and a brave face. She cried a lot, but those tears were like armour to her. If you're always crying, people learn to ignore it. She was so broken inside, she cut herself on every piece of her heart she tried to reattach. She was so scared. She was so happy. 

That little girl deserved so much more, so much better. I try to do right by her, to bandage her bleeding arms, to soothe her shaking sobs and calm her racing mind. I miss her. I think of how strong she had to be, and I am grateful that I have been allowed the space to fall apart. Putting yourself together is hard. Letting people in is hard. Hiding has become second nature. I am an open person, but a lot of me is hidden in that little girl, that she simply isn't ready to give back to me yet. Sometimes she hands me tissues when I cry, or encourages me to dance with her in the rain.

Right now, she is sitting back on that cold floor, wanting me to join her and soothe her wounds. I sit next to her, willing myself to have the strength not to pick up her bloody knife and drag it across scars left from her pain. They have scabbed and healed long ago but i feel the pain as raw as if the skin had been sliced seconds ago.

[fatesealer505]

Super uncool serious post 😞‼️‼��

I don’t know how much I can say before risking being fakeclaimed or something,,, uh this is gonna get personal but realistically speaking I expect nothing and nobody out of this so read as you will if you got nothing to do. I will most likely forget about this is an hour or so anyway.

So what have I done whole I was gone..

Nothing. Absolutely, literally, down-to-my-core nothing. I don’t mean it too literally, but my days have been recurring enough for me to no longer remember that much about my days and how they are spent. I do remember who I am on most days though.

Uh. I don’t know if it’s pure laziness or if I’m currently suffering a big burnout. I haven’t really played anything or talked to anyone and ironically enough I’ve lost sleep as well. Of course (if I said this before I apologize) I’m still keeping up with GGST and now I’m back on Skullgirls.. somewhat. As for Genshin I had to stop playing because of my storage and disinterest, unfortunately. However, I still love the characters I got with all of my heart and believe they clutched when they could.

My social battery’s just gotten so low and it’s like everything annoys me (not y’all though, I think the people I last saw on here are all wonderful), as if I have nothing and don’t like having anything either. I’ve put a lot of thought on this and how it’s ended for me - as I am simply a teenager in the countryside who “knows nothing” and also a big “know-it-all” but that aside, I’ve decided I won’t be trying to improve very much at all as that only puts a bigger risk of a worst relapse than what I am in now. I’ve made peace and accepted my situation for what it is, and I know who’s at fault, including myself.

I will not risk therapy either since my purchases are supervised and I can’t drive yet, followed by living in a very.. right-wing retirement area. It isn’t my best option nor decision, but until my bs catches up with me or I somehow survive, it might as well be the safest. That being said, I can’t confirm nor deny anything, but if someone does read this, please do not slap labels on me or assume a disorder.

I have sunken from a straight-a’s kid to a “if i pass we good” teenager, which could very well be just because of my mental development but it’s working.. I think. I don’t know, educational success isn’t giving me anything considering the state of the country, and I honestly do not think it will. Some may call it upsetting or flame me for it, but that is one of the outcomes I’ve long since accepted.

Before someone reaches out, I’m not that much of a good person. It’s nothing personal, like I said before you all seem like lovely people - I’ve just been carved (and placed by myself) into a more nihilistic mindset. I’ve tried hard but to say I am now would be a lie because as mentioned - nothing’s happened.

So, what will you do mr fatesealer 505 ???

Well, I’m gonna have to grow up. This summer, I was planning on getting a permit since everyone has their license (we’re just sophomores calm down like..) and hopefully a tiny job to keep my hands busy. If I do, this means I get to leave school early. Hip hip hooray.

What does this mean for my uploads?

I’m not sure. I’m trying to relearn digital art the best I can and luckily it seems I haven’t lost my spark in its entirety just yet. Do not assume my life-altering failures will postpone my mediocre hobby.

Despite my utter lack of every fucking thing (bless those who have stayed with me) I would like to try socializing just a teeny bit more just online. Not real-world, there are creeps my age (thank you Texas, I could not ask for better..)

Unless someone spawns and wants to talk or have me expand on my totally untubular experience, you’re free to go ahead.

I will not be changing my avatar. The silly is love and life. And so are all of you for what you have given even if I have never spoken.

Thank you.

[rinwellisathing]

You're Awful, I Love You: Part 5? 6?

Yeah, I'm losing count lol. I applied to join Ao3 as well though so this will also go there, but I will keep posting it here too. Thank you to everyone reading. It's been very cathartic writing Sentry since I put a lot of myself into him.

As always, trauma and violence content warning!

Enver Gortash/Trans male Tiefling Durge

As he walked down the stairs, he expected chanting, the reverent noises of a temple, but instead he heard clicking, whirring, the occasional hiss of steam releasing from a valve somewhere and as the torch light illuminated the path before him, he noticed that the walls and floor were smudged in places with oil rather than blood and he caught the scent of electricity heavy in the air. Strange. When the room finally loomed before him, he found himself in a strange sort of forge or maybe a workshop. It was impressive, wall to wall with machinery and parts. Strange contraptions whirred and buzzed around him and he smiled despite himself. It reminded him of the copper dreadfuls he was so fond of, the type of short novel you could buy on a street corner where a madman resurrects a corpse without magic or creates a clockwork army. He paused only briefly to admire the wonder of creation before his eyes fell on the seat at the work bench where the subject of his inspiration sat, dressed in a simple linen shirt and breeches, magnificent gauntlet replaced with thick leather gloves, those eyes that haunted his visions covered by a pair of thick artificer's goggles. Sentry slowly walked over to Gortash, the urge to grab him by the throat and see what his tools could do when set to flesh rather than iron was only slightly less than the urge to lean in and peek at what he was doing. The tiefling stepped back slightly when Gortash put up a hand, shooing him backwards. “I'm afraid I can't allow you any closer without the proper protection, my dear Executioner.” The Tyrant chastised him. “ As you can see, my work is quite volatile and an errant splash of chemicals or too great a spark could damage those eyes and I would hate to feel responsible for robbing an artist of his sight.”

“You're awfully calm for a man with an assassin in his seemingly secret workshop.” Sentry folded his arms somewhat petulantly across his chest, but he did step back regardless. The burn on his face aching as he thought of sparks and fire. “Perhaps if you were here to kill me, perhaps if we weren't among some of my best creations. But here and now? Why shouldn't I be calm? You've come to make good on that offer to paint my portrait.” Enver didn't even look up from his project, his tone smooth, pleasant, matter of fact. Sentry was silent a moment. This man was the only person short of his own family who didn't fear him. It was all at once frustrating, exciting, and perhaps a little arousing. “Fine, you're right. I need to paint you and I can't do it from memory, no matter how hard I try. It's vexing.”

Gortash smirked and set down his tools, wiping sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his shirt and then standing and raising his goggles. The grease and soot of his materials stained skin and cloth alike and sweat mingled with metal and electricity in the air as he closed the distance between Sentry and himself. “Emerald, not black.” Sentry commented. “Of course. All the writings on Bane said so.” “What?” “Your eyes.” The Tiefling explained, fighting the warmth he felt spreading across his cheeks and nose. Their bodies were so close, he could feel the warmth of someone who had worked hard enough to build up a sweat, laboring in a boiling workshop for hours. The scent was intoxicating. He shook his head and righted himself. “At any rate, do you want to be painted covered in filth or are you going to change?” The teasing glint in Gortash's eyes was not lost on Sentry as Bane's chosen took one step back. “Ah, of course not. Ever the professional, I see. Well, in that case come along, it's not an easy thing to find your way around here without a guide.” And with that, he started towards the stairs. Sentry hesitated a moment, taking a deep breath and nodding before gripping the strap of the rucksack on his back and following after his most gracious host. They ascended the stairs in silence until they were back in the empty room. Sentry watched as Gortash muttered a word and made a quick gesture at the wall that should have led into the house and a simple wooden door appeared. “After you, my dear Executioner.” He gestured through the door and Sentry stepped through, finding himself in a well appointed hall way. A deep red carpet ran through it and mahogany tables set with various busts or vases of flowers lined the walls. Portraits hung as well, ones he recognized as important figures in the city's history, interspersed here and there with famous Banites. Gortash followed him through the door and took the lead again, bringing him to a heavy oak door, but unlike the other doors, a golden demon head stood prominently on it. There was no knob or handle, simple that head set at the center. Sentry regarded it curiously as Gortash spoke to it in infernal, a word Sentry recognized, a simple one most tiefling's would, it meant 'open'. The room inside was magnificent, draped heavily in reds and golds, the materials the finest and most fashionable in the city. However, Sentry did notice that none of it particularly seemed personal. It was all what one would expect from nobility, set to the predilections and tastes of Baldur's Gate's high born without a hint to the dweller's own self. It was set dressing, he realized. He had seen Gortash's true inner sanctum, the workshop. Hell fire and metal, electricity and the spark of creation. This was for the patriars, for business associates. The heat returned to Sentry's cheeks as he wondered why he'd been allowed to see more.

“Rest here a while. I'll need to wash up, as you said, so my portrait will be perfect. After all, you're painting history, my friend!” Gortash's smile in this room was so different, like a politician. It fascinated the tiefling to see the room reflected in everything about him.

“Sure...You won't get all pissed if I sketch while I wait and some charcoal gets on your nice bedspread?” Sentry quirked a brow. “Of course not, dear Executioner, my home is your home.” The Tyrant smirked, gesturing a bit too widely to beg sincerity. “You can call me Sentry.”

“Alright, my dear Sentry, then.” And with that, Gortash left the room, the door shutting behind him with a click. Sentry tensed slightly at the click. Locked in. Locked in. Locked in. His charcoal scratched an ugly line down the sketchbook page and the image that began to form was of a small, dark, locked room and the small frightened child inside. Nausea began to sweep over him and he fought the urge to vomit. Locked in again.