#she loves to make me suffer /j

[boomerang109]

for someone who is less than 3 inches taller than me my mom sure loves top shelves

[vogelmeister]

thinking about the australian cultural cringe on this sunny sunday hbu

[ceoofmetagala]

I rwlaky need to udpate my ship kids ref.

I'll do it when I get home!!

[justhereforthemeta]

Romantic expectations and the story we didn't see: A magic trick hiding in plain sight

Here's a hopeful meta for all my fellow celestial brainrot sufferers out there. Cheers! :)

This idea started as a dead end, trying to track the movements of Crowley’s sideburns/tattoo because I thought time travel shenanigans were afoot. I had to abandon that theory when it was pointed out that David was simultaneously filming as the sideburns-having Fourteenth Doctor, and in-universe Crowley can do whatever he wants with his facial hair whenever he feels like it. But hey - null findings are still findings!

On the bright side, pausing the show to make notations in a spreadsheet forced me to slow down and notice other changes I'd overlooked the first time around: acting choices, costuming choices, references to book lore. And possibly a few surreptitious flicks of the wrist, in places where we’re meant to be focused on the magician’s other hand.

@amuseoffyre and @ineffablefood had a great exchange recently about romance and “the significance of misdirection and three-in-one (magic) tricks” throughout the show. I suspect Neil has done something brilliant with the audience’s long-standing expectations (since the 1990s, really) for the love story between Crowley and Aziraphale to develop. And while it is a wonderful story indeed, playing to this expectation lets Neil distract his audience from the blink-and-you'll-miss-them seeds he's planting for the final chapter.

Continued below the cut...

Let’s start at the beginning of Episode 2. First, context: In the previous installment, Crowley stormed out of the bookshop, was whisked away to Hell by Beelzebub where he learns about the Book of Life threat to Aziraphale’s existence, then returned to the bookshop to dance a little apology dance and hide Gabriel with an unintentionally massive joint miracle. In S2E2, we and Shax catch up with Crowley as he's snoozing in the Bentley.

Shax: “You’re in trouble”

A. J. Crowley, cool as a cucumber: “Obviously. Former demon, hated by Heaven, loathed by Hell. How will our hero cope?”

Interesting! Sarcastic? Yes, absolutely; but that’s also a good 4500 years and an averted apocalypse away from “I’m a demon. I lie,” wouldn’t you say? Someone is sounding a whole lot less depressed and aimless and navel-gazey (do snakes have navels?), and a whole lot more like he’s got a project to focus on, since his "what's the point?" ruminations on the park bench in E1.

And of course we all noticed the costume change right away. Hello, black turtleneck. Feeling cute today, thought I’d cover up my graceful long neck? That sounds unlikely. Let’s put a pin in this one.

There’s also an interesting acting choice going on here. Crowley speaks to Shax in a funny, drawling, too-cool-for-you voice that we haven’t heard in a while. Specifically, not since 1967. If you go back and give the S1E3 scene in the Dirty Donkey a listen, you’ll hear it (and if you know of another instance of it that I've missed, please let me know!). In S2E2, he keeps up this odd voice (if anybody knows what kind of affect this is supposed to be, please do tell!) throughout this dialogue with Shax, except for the brief moment when she first surprises him about the joint miracle having been detected.

1967 was a fun year. Crowley masterminded a heist! And seemed like he was having a ball doing it, right up until his little caper was called off after Aziraphale brought him the thermos of holy water. Crowley spoke to his co-conspirators in that same funny, very 60’s-caper-film voice. He wore a hip 60’s turtleneck. He bought petrol for the only time ever, so he could get those sweet James Bond bullet hole decals for his car (per the book, seen on the Bentley in the show).

Those James Bond bullet hole decals would of course have been part of a promotion for this 1967 release, which you just know our film-enjoying demon went to see in the theater:

Starring this suave, be-turtlenecked guy:

And now - begging your forgiveness - a brief rant.

There are a number of posts out there that refer to Crowley’s S2E2 turtleneck as a flirtatious sartorial choice - actually, ‘slutty’ seems to be the favored accusation. There are even a few posts floating around commenting on how sweet it is that Crowley swaps out his slutty, kinky, throw-me-over-your-desk-and-take-me turtleneck for a more dressy and appropriate collared shirt specifically to attend Aziraphale’s Jane Austen ball. 

Now this is all in good fun, and Crowley does indeed look fantastic here, and I do love a good fangirling sesh as much as the next person. However, fandom’s collective tendency to interpret what we are seeing on the screen through the lens of romantic expectation can, at times, give rise to a kind of blinkered enthusiasm that obscures the original text in a haze that is part Mandela Effect, part unrestrained horniness, and part in-group code talking and identity reinforcement.

Respectfully, Crowley’s black turtleneck does not appear at all in S2E5: The Ball. In fact, it never appears again after the end of S2E2.

For Someone’s sake, let’s collectively pull our heads out of the romantic fog/gutter for a moment and focus on what we are actually seeing in the book and on the screen. For Crowley, this is an uncharacteristic within-period costume change. There is a surreptitious flick of the wrist happening here, out in broad daylight, and we are all missing it.

So here’s a thing. Aziraphale appears to have settled comfortably into life on Earth, his neighborhood, his books, using Crowley as an outlet for sharing his good deeds that he would once have reported to Heaven. Meanwhile, at first glance, Crowley appears stuck in a rut. There he slouches on a park bench with Shax in S2E1: a guy who lives in his car, stagnantly clinging to old familiar habits, mulling over the pointlessness of it all.

Setting aside the bit about living in the Bentley (I’m going to attribute this to well-documented issues between him and Aziraphale, discussed in many other excellent metas, and move on), Crowley has at least two very good, proactive reasons for maintaining his contact with Hell through Shax. First and foremost, it’s a source of information he can use to keep ahead of potential threats to Aziraphale and himself.

But also, I would posit…he kinda likes it.

Recall that book GO was first conceived as a parody, with Aziraphale and Crowley as spy-against-spy (but not really) field operatives in an ages-old cold war between Heaven and Hell. Their entire book dynamic is rooted in the trope of two opposing agents who have been in the field for so long that they now have more in common with each other than with their respective head offices. Their St. James’s Park meetings among other spies and ministers trading secrets are a sendup of what was once a well-known Cold War-era cliché. 

Our contemporary Crowley still likes slick outfits and hellaciously expensive watches and high-performing vintage cars and pens that write underwater while looking like they could break the speed limit. He coaches Shax on how to blend in as a demon on Earth, and he helpfully redirects the wayward contact looking for the Azerbaijani sector chief. He loves improvising and getting away with shenanigans under the institutional radar. And boy golly was he impressed with Jane Austen: master spy, brandy smuggler, and mastermind of the 1810 Clerkenwell Diamond Robbery. 

And if you look at it a certain way, for as long as Crowley has considered himself to be on “[his] own side” - going at least as far back as Job - he could almost think of himself as a sort of double agent. It’s actually a very romantic sort of notion, befitting our hopeless romantic of a (professedly former) demon; but it’s romantic in a very different way than we, the audience, have been primed to watch for.

In other words, in a very “on my own side” kind of way, Crowley really gets a kick out of being a spy. Or at least, dressing up and accessorizing as one, and moonlighting as a good-doing double agent when he can get away with it. And also being a plotting criminal mastermind. Two sides of a coin, really. Just look at Jane Austen.

My point is: No, Crowley did not wait around for Shax to come find him in a turtleneck so that he could go flirt with Aziraphale later. He’ll flirt with Aziraphale no matter what. No, this:

is actually this:

Much like the one he wears to the Dirty Donkey in 1967: 

whilst holy water heist-plotting. Here's a clearer shot with gratuitous Bentley, because I love them:

…and which he'll wear again, with appropriate camouflage, while infiltrating Heaven in S2E6:

That is the 1967 planning a HEIST turtleneck for committing ESPIONAGE and STEALING THINGS in. Because turtlenecks are what modern human master spies wear to get their hands dirty - after all, he saw it in a movie once. 

Crowley dons his tactical turtleneck sometime during the first major break in the action (which doesn't happen until after the joint miracle to hide Gabriel) after he learns about the threat the Book of Life poses to Aziraphale. Loverboy started mentally preparing himself to go after that book immediately upon learning that it was in play as a genuine threat. 

Now let’s pick up at the S2E2 Dirty Donkey scene, reading the story from this angle. Of course, Crowley enables Aziraphale’s delusions about Heaven by hiding information from him, and does not disclose the Book of Life threat when they meet again. They go into the pub, Aziraphale shamelessly paws Crowley’s chest like the seductive Bond Girl he is, and Crowley gets to act all smooth and suave and intimidating as he chases off the interloping Mr. Brown (or Mr. Collins for the Pride & Prejudice fans, take your pick).

Ergo, theory: beginning in S2E2, Crowley is already thinking of himself as a Jane Austen/James Bond action hero (“How will our hero cope?”), psyching himself up to rescue Aziraphale by getting his spy game on and stealing the Book of Life.

Now, watch closely...This is where Aziraphale and Crowley brainstorm their plans to solve the problem they both know about: getting Maggie and Nina to fall in love and thereby get Heaven off their backs. Crowley’s vavoom plan is drawn from yet another movie (“Get humans wet and staring into each other’s eyes - vavoom, sorted. I saw it in a Richard Curtis film.”). But Crowley also implicitly shares his solution to the problem he hasn’t told Aziraphale about. And true to form, Crowley’s Jane Austen solution isn’t the same as Aziraphale’s Jane Austen solution. 

Two solutions that fail by the end of Season 2, and a secret third one that might still work...and there's our magic trick of three.

‘“I’m lost. Am I doing a rainstorm?” Yes, babe. And a heist, too - just not until season three. Can I get a wahoo!? 

I won’t spend time on A Companion to Owls during this meta, except to note that in all three minisodes, we get to watch stories that involve Crowley acting as a double agent on “his/their own side” - successfully making Hell and Heaven think he’s fulfilling their will while saving Job’s goats and children; failing to fool Hell when he does a good deed in Edinburgh; and of course, collaborating with Aziraphale whilst evading detection as an infernal turncoat during the Blitz.

(Because this is getting long, I'll also skip over Crowley's interrogation of Jim in this episode - I'll probably come back to that in another meta. But interrogating is a rather spy-ish thing to do.)

When we catch up with Crowley again later, he’s already slipped out of the bookshop, having left Aziraphale to his biblical reverie about Job. He saunters snakily down Whickber Street as usual, but with a very pointed and swift glance over his shoulder (see pic above). This demon is up to something - possibly something we didn’t get to see, something that may have happened offscreen while he stepped out. In any case, knowing there’ve been unfriendly angels in the neighborhood that morning, he’s rightly concerned about being spied on.

From this point until the beginning of episode six, there isn’t a whole lot of opportunity for Crowley to make any next moves. He babysits the bookshop, during which time he manages to wring some crucial information out of Jim; he follows his Crowley’s Angel around like a puppy, and downs a bottle of red like a good old fashioned lovesick boy once that’s been pointed out to him. If any plotting or scheming is underway, this occult being is keeping stumm for now.

This has been a long one, so I’ll wrap up with Crowley’s infiltration of Heaven with Muriel. The turtleneck disguise works (Archer fans, be vindicated!) long enough to gather some information that will be crucial not just to the denouement of S2, but also to Crowley’s journey in S3 (previous post on Crowley's Fall, Saraqael, and memory wiping). And Aziraphale gets to enjoy that view exactly zero times. The point isn’t oh, a turtleneck! How flirty! So cunty! So cute! Y’all. Everything matters. The costume change was a deliberate choice. In-universe, Crowley’s decision to wear his special spy turtleneck for spying in is a signal that he is out doing spy things, even as we watch.

In sum: Beginning in S2E2 and continuing through the end of the season, Aziraphale and Crowley are actively living out the scripts of two parallel, concurrent, and completely different Jane Austen stories. But you and I, dear fellow audience member, we came here for a comedy with a hefty jigger of romance, and that’s what Neil gave us to focus on. And right up until the Final 15, that was the only story we saw.

Meanwhile, Special Agent A. J. Crowley doesn’t have time to mope around at the end of S2E6. He’s kicked down, but he’s not out. He's got a Book of Life to steal, a very serious bone to pick with a certain memory-wiping angel, and his Angel and the world to save. 

“‘Heigh ho,’ said [romantic, optimist, former demon, hero, master spy] Anthony Crowley, and just drove anyway.”

[stevie-petey]

stug stug stug pleaseee i would LOVE to see something where bug is comforting steve maybe he had a fight w his dad or j in general. i’m so excited for season 4! but obvi take your time j know that we’re all very excited bc we just know that you will blow us away with your writing!!

really missin happy steve and bug so im writin this <33

enjoy !

"i dont think it looks that bad."

"youre a terrible liar, y/n."

"im not lying!" but the way your voice pitches gives it all away, and steve knows it.

"im ruined." he drops his head into your lap, burying his face in the flesh of your thigh. partially because hes mourning the loss of his hair, but mostly because he adores your thighs and revels in them whenever he can.

steve is in mourning. he can be as selfish as he wants when it comes to your thighs. its his god given right as your boyfriend.

knowing what hes doing, you shove steves face away from your thighs, though not unkindly. youre still shy around him, his touch against your bare skin foreign after only a month of dating. steve is gentle and patient with you, he understands that youve never really been in a relationship before, so he takes his time with you.

secretly, you adore how gentle he is. how cautiously he skims his fingers over your waist or how softly he breathes against your neck. it makes everything easier, lighter, for you. to be loved so tenderly without any falsehood behind it.

lost in your honey warmth of love for steve, your fingers tangle through his hair. that is, whats left of it. steves chest faces you, the hem of his shirt has lifted slightly during his complaining. soft skin spills out from underneath, revealing a plush tummy. with a mind of their own, your eyes draw down the lines of his abdomen. a low hum stirs in your own stomach.

"are you seriously checking me out right now?" steve taps your nose with his finger, snapping you out of your daze. "i mean, here i am, the love of your life, mourning the loss of beautiful hair that was taken from us too soon, and youre drooling over me."

you flick his forehead, he scrunches his face, and its familiar and lovely. "i wasnt drooling, i just wasnt listening to your dramatic despair."

steve gasps, hand over his chest. "my hair was murdered!"

"honey, only like, two inches were cut off."

well, more like three, but you wont tell him that.

somehow one of the kids, almost certainly mike, left their chewed up gum on the counter top of family video when they visited earlier today. they came in like a storm, turning the place upside down before you, robin, or steve could even stop them. apparently dustin had wanted a new movie, will was bored, lucas wanted max to go outside, and el forced mike to join because shes never seen a movie store before.

the wreckage they left behind for such simple reasons for even entering the store in the first place had astounded you.

then, because steve is always perpetually suffering the consequences of the partys actions the most, had dropped his head down onto the counter top in exhaustion as soon as they left.

right in the same spot the gum had been left.

never before have you ever seen steve crumble to the floor quite so suddenly. it was comical, really. the way he shrieked in horror while you and robin watched, neither having any idea what had just happened.

which leads you to now: consoling steve as you comb through his newly cut hair.

"what, are you implying two inches isnt a huge amount of length?" steve raises an eyebrow at you, teasing, and you blush furiously. sparing you, he doesnt point it out and instead changes the topic. "i hate those little heathens, i really do."

"how do we know one of them is the gum culprit?"

"because theyre cursed little shitheads who always mar my appearance one way or another." then, as an afterthought, steve adds, "plus that wheeler kid has a weird obsession with watermelon gum."

again you try to defend the kids, even though you know it was most definitely mike. sure, he shouldnt have left his gum on the counter, but it was funny. "and how do we know it was watermelon gum?"

"i could smell it when robin was cutting all my hair off, angel."

"and yet youre as handsome as ever!" you press a purposely messy kiss atop of steves head, blowing slightly into his face and making a dramatic kissing sound when you pull away. anything to distract him from realizing it was all mikes fault.

gotta protect the little shithead somehow.

steve shrieks, reminiscent of the shriek from earlier, and shoves you away as he wipes at his face. "ew!"

"how dare you wipe my kiss away, steve harrington."

"you spit on me!"

"lovingly."

steve rolls onto his stomach and throws himself onto you. now its your turn to shriek as he throws his weight on top of you, tackling you onto his bed. luckily his parents arent home, otherwise theyd have some very horrified questions.

"steve!" you land with a soft thud on his pillows, and he smiles up from above you. hes all proud, his cheeks flushed a pretty pink, and his eyes shine with adoration for you.

hes beautiful. you cant believe hes yours.

"youre supposed to be comforting me, angel!" steve presses himself down even more, rendering you unable to move and wiggle away from him. you squeal when his hands find your sides, fingers digging into your skin as he tickles you. "i mean, im wounded here!"

you squeal with laughter as his hands attack you, mercilessly, yet gentle nonetheless. "s-steve! stop!"

"not until you apologize to my hair."

"your hair?" more laughter rips from your chest, ribs aching.

"mhm, tell my hair that its still handsome. his feelings are hurt." steve buries his nose into your neck, causing you to giggle even more, and the sound encases his body and reminds him of everything good and lovely.

you try to pull away, but steve has you pinned. "youre-ah! youre such an-an idiot!"

"that doesnt sound like an apology, y/n."

finally giving up, you force out an apology in between breaths of laughter. "i-im sorry! your-your hair is handsome!"

steves fingers leave your sides, but he pulls you deep into his chest and collapses upon you. he nuzzles into your neck, wraps his hands around you, tries to meld the two of you into one. "much better," he mumbles into your skin.

"your hair really is handsome, you know." you draw circles into steves back, breath slowly returning to normal. fingers finding his hair once more, you play with the strands and massage his head with your nails. "youre handsome. two inches lost or not.”

"really?" steve lifts his face, looks down at you, preening at your words with an unusual shyness.

you bring your hands to his face, holding it with all the love you have for him. "the handsomest."

lips find lips, and soon the two of you get lost in each other as you inevitably always do.

[eldritch-spouse]

https://www.tumblr.com/eldritch-spouse/741884957599973376/httpswwwtumblrcomeldritch-spouse741700018004?source=share

I need to know in explicit detail the first time breg allowed this human to collect samples. Also need to know the embarrassing situations they are put in that their coworkers judge them

I honestly love this so much I'm kicking my feet and giggling ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[Fem reader. I kind of rushed this. Doodle at the end.]

TW: Heavy themes of abuse (including mentions of noncon, death and captivity); Dubious consent moments.

" Listen, we just need you to get in there. "

You blink. " ... This can't be serious. Is this a joke? "

The half-fiend woman, superior to you in professional rank, drags a hand across her blonde locks and grimaces. " Look, I know it sounds bad- "

" Of course it does! This was nowhere in the job description- "

Not that the job description was very uh, descriptive, anyway. But any straw will do, anything to cling to a modicum of your dignity as you get told what your next task will be.

She seems to switch through a few different corporate tactics to ease the blow. " Listen, please. We are short-staffed at the moment, and this has been affecting production a lot more than you can imagine. Specimen 197 is a big bread-winner here and we all know he's uncooperative with machinery, going as far as to ruin it constantly, which leads to more expenses- "

She's explaining this to you like you're a particularly slow toddler and you're not amused.

" We have also noted that M197 is clearly attached to you and a bond has been formed, which is why your presence is requested in certain situations, to reduce his stress levels during tasks. This... Is another one of those tasks. We just need you to get a few samples- " She points at the two canisters next to her. " And you can think of it as a way to improve your bond with the specimen even. "

" Ma'am, he's entering a rut. " You pause. " You want me to walk into a male breeder's cell while he's rutting and engage sexually with him? "

She gulps. " For- For strictly professional purposes- "

" I'm not doing this. "

...

" There's a significant monetary bonus if you manage to do it. "

A long, shameful, disgustingly filthy moment of silence unfolds where you internally debate how far you're willing to go for some much needed money.

Too far, apparently.

" ... I'll do it. "

" Great, that's wonderful, we- "

" No cameras in the room. "

She flinches. " But then how are we supposed to know if you're in danger? "

" No cameras, please. "

If you die you die. You don't want footage of you being possibly mauled by a breeder out there...

A begrudging glance is cast towards the canisters sitting innocently on the table.

Grabbing them, you prepare for the shitshow you signed yourself into.

We have him tied up, the techs had informed you, it'll make things easier.

Just hearing them gives you headaches.

Yes, of course, because forcibly restraining the already volatile lifeform will make it cease being hostile. Logical.

A long-suffering sigh exits your lips when you input the code to open 197's cell. It's a code you know by heart now. If not from the regular standard visits, then from the hurried string of numbers your coworkers would scream at you over the radio before getting launched around by a monster several times their size and weight.

It's hard to forget something like that. There are just some faces you never see again.

As soon as the heavily reinforced door hisses open, you're greeted by an immediate build-up of a snarl. As scary as the sound was when you first heart it, and continues to be on an instinctual level, you understand now that it's mostly born out of fear.

Nothing good ever happens when 197 is cuffed and he's right to be frightened.

The moment you step into view and the door slams shut behind you however, he visibly seems to shift gear instantly.

Sitting on the rather uncomfortable tiled ground, specimen 197 has his ankles spread and cuffed to the ground, his wrists joined behind him and his neck nearly choked to the wall. A muzzle prevents the breeder's jaw from elongating as it tends to do when he's threatened. His tail is likewise restrained in two areas. Those cuffs are the best things modern technology can offer, you haven't heard of a single solid monster type that can shatter them. They're likely also tampered with by some more magically-inclined individuals, but you've never been one to dabble in that.

He exhibits the signs you'd expect from any male entering a rut. Excessive sweating, goosebumps, a faster breathing rate, tension, restlessness and a dilated, humid slit. His skin flickers from time to time, signals somewhere between aggression and courtship displays. You would never have associated heat cycles with torture before starting your work here, but seeing the way these monsters are chemically forced into hypersexual, unhealthily exacerbated heats has shown you just how cruelly this biological process can be exploited.

Sometimes they die. A hormonal, frenzied, artificially accelerated metabolism like this is powerful, but it's also very fragile, in a way. Either they're able to maintain their required ridiculous nutrient intake, find a way to preserve as much energy as possible, or simply panic and end up dying from a mixture of stress and lack of sustenance.

Another sigh escapes your lips, you try to clear your head by placing the canisters on the ground.

The breeder in question, who was once nearly pitch black in his effort to intimidate the perceived threat, is now snow white, having registered you as his favorite, the "nice one". 197 shrinks in himself, then begins a litany of keening whines interspersed with specific chirps.

It might be a plea for attention from an already hormone-fried brain, it might also just be a desperate request to be released from his binds.

You're no paragon of morality, but unlike your coworkers, you understand that building a bond with anyone requires depositing some trust in them. And, even if 197 is rutting, you can only continue to build a connection with him if he has a modicum of comfort in this situation. Which is why you steel yourself before moving closer to the specimen in question and inputting the specific combination to unlock all of his cuffs.

The process is timed, giving workers about five or so minutes to leave the cell before the cuffs drop and the monster is freed. It prevents casualties, naturally.

197 tries to thump his tail in appreciation when he realizes what you're doing, quietly rumbling and trying to lean into the small brushes of your fingers as you work.

" There big guy, just give it a second... " You take a few steps back while you wait.

It feels like a small eternity before the restraints begin falling off one by one. First the tail ones, then the muzzle, the neck, the wrists... And the ankles. On that last click, the breeder shrugs everything away and stretches as he stands.

You've studied these monsters and their mannerisms, he's not stretching just to soothe his joints, he's displaying. The exaggerated curve of that spine says it all, you know exactly what reaction he's after. Though, already riled up as he is, you don't think it's a good idea to respond.

In a second, he's closed the distance between the two of you, this near suffocating hovering over your front, hands and arms twitching with the urge to touch you. 197 is not good with boundaries, which was very surprising to you, considering he absolutely detests it when 99% of people touch him.

The 1% being you.

He waits, visibly pained, for the signal.

" You can touch me now. "

And like a sudden wave, 197 nearly crashes onto you, his comparatively massive pale body blanketing over yours as his arms cage your upper body, lifting it along with him. You squealed the first few times, now you know to stay mostly still and lean to the right so he can shove his face in the crook of your neck without bonking his head against yours. Painful.

He takes a couple deep, shameless inhales of your scent. And, if you had to guess, you're probably a bit sweaty from anxiety. Not that he seems to care, 197 actually appears to slow down a little, enjoying the closeness and now familiar odor you possess. His tail coils around your legs and you pat his back when the telltale chirps and trills of elation make it past his throat.

" Yeah, I missed you too buddy. Take a breather. "

This close to the male, you have absolutely no choice but to drown in his musk. 197 can't help it, he's ruttting after all, those pheromones have to come out. Fortunately, as a human, you're not affected by them, though some of your monster coworkers have to wear specific masks when they enter rutting breeder cells. To you, it's just vaguely unpleasant and heavy.

197 would usually give you a bit of room by now, but he doesn't seem interested in that, instead shifting you around so he can smell other parts of your figure, particularly your hair. Your face warms from his excessive body heat and the sensation of being corralled, your protests silenced when a long blue muscle dips to trail from the base of your neck to your jaw and up the side of your face. The movement is quick, and your attempt to reflexively lean away is met with a tighter grasp as he repeats it.

197 has a habit of dulling his teeth to look more humanoid for your comfort, but not today, in the state he is, he likely forgot that detail altogether. This unfortunately means that you feel the scrape of those pointed daggers every time he amorously samples your skin.

" Alright okay, that's enough- "

You butt in when it feels like he's getting a bit too riled up too fast. It's not exactly counter-productive to your task, but letting him get more and more control over the situation will make it difficult to get the samples later. You can't wrangle a breeder in the throes of their rut, you have to do things before that critical stage.

However, the specimen isn't interested in listening to anything you have to say, responding instead to your tone with his own whine and starting to tug at your uniform. That does it. Thoroughly soaked in his drool, you grab onto the breeder's forearms hard.

" 197! " It's not a tone you like to use with any of the breeders here.

He eventually snaps out of his little trance, gulping, steadying himself before frowning and giving you the space you want.

In this barely minute-long episode, 197 has already kicked into high-gear. Breathing accelerated again, open-mouth panting, excessive drool production, somewhat puffed figure and the tips of his twin cocks already poking out of a pelvic pouch that can barely hold them back. He seems to shiver in his own overwhelming arousal, and though this species is known for having its eyes shielded behind a layer of skin on the face, you know he's fixed on you like a famished animal.

Although your cheeks are moments from setting aflame, this isn't exactly a new sight for you. 197 has gotten aroused in your vicinity several times, you've actually lost count. It'd be nonsensical of you to get irritated over such, given that these males are forced into hypersexuality by the concoctions introduced in their organisms. That paired with his fondness for you probably makes it hard for 197 to not get erections constantly. A hug can set him off, even simple closure paired with your scent is enough to do it.

Well. No time to waste.

While he's mildly disoriented, you grab one of the canisters and move towards a corner of the room with a seemingly randomly arranged pile of fabrics. This, as confusing as it may be to some, is a breeder's nest. And in this species of monsters, the males tend to be the ones who arrange spaces for coupling. 197 has expressed clear discontentment with the fabrics given to him during times of rut to fulfill his instinctual needs, but no one here is ever acting with the specimen's best interests in mind. Besides, he piped down when one of the techs had the bright idea of giving him a jacket you forgot in the workplace. It's right there in fact, the gray hue contrating with a mostly white and pale color scheme.

The nest itself is big, if it fits 197 then it definitely fits you too. And, knowing exactly what you're doing, you let him observe you take a step into it and sit down on the middle, empty canister beside you.

Oh boy.

You can practically hear the popcorn crackles in his brain.

The monster trills loudly, proudly, your supposed acceptance of what have amounted to months of unsubtle courtship from his part being finally rewarded. It's a dangerous moment, you're perfectly aware of such, but it's also necessary to get this over with.

197 drops to a creepily nimble crawl across the floor, rapidly posing over your seated form with blue-tinted cheeks and rabid need. Before you can get so much as a word in, he's dropping some of his weight on you, showering you in hasty licks and clumsy kisses again, this time unable to help himself from nipping at your clothes. The coverings visibly bother him, and the male growls quietly before his instincts tug at him again and he's trying to slot himself between your clothed legs. It takes some yelping, and fussy movement from his part, but you eventually rationalize that stressing him out can lead to a violent response right now.

Might as well let him get away with some embarrassing acts.

Hormone-muddled as he is, 197 has only enough of a mind to hold onto you and press two hot lengths against the front of your body. He's already full-mast, the heat and weight of those things dragging across you when he automatically moves his hips is utterly filthy. He groans, probably the first kind of decent friction he's been getting since he entered this phase of his cycle, the softness and smell of his favorite human getting the monster to leak already, lost in his desperate search for a modicum of relief. As gross and ridiculous as it is, at least he's not tugging at your clothes yet.

You can sense his frustration, the frantic way 197 mechanically bucks against you, the pressure he puts in every thrust, the way his claws puncture into your lab coat and he whines low, this noise that turns into a pleased sort of snarl. Overwhelmed, you shiver beneath his figure, glad there are no cameras to see you fluster and shamefully let a rutting monster grind at you.

You dare say you can get into this.

There's something so appealing about having a monster yearn for you so madly that he's driven to this senseless and primitive display, that even so much as humping you could have them blissed out. Your legs quake around his and you feel your pussy throb in response to the muted friction from his lightly barbed cocks. It's not the first time you've wondered about how it would feel... You've always been a monsterfucker at heart, and 197 is a brutally gorgeous specimen. He's always imploring for even a single touch from you, if you spread yourself out you have absolutely no doubt he would ram those alarming inches into you like a wild beast.

Yeah, maybe your coworkers would call you a sickfuck, but it's not like anyone who works here is moderately normal...

It's a secret. One that you're vaguely paranoid might not be so secret anymore, now that you've been entrusted with this.

In your horny little stupor, you make the critical mistake of forgetting that breeders quickly detect arousal in others. And you are probably making a wet spot in your pants as of now.

With a sudden snort of an inhale, he rises like a man possessed to start ripping at the sides of your lab coat, forcefully trying to rip it off even as he's unable to stop rocking his hips. He knows how to unbutton things just fine, but you bet he can't be fucked to think much in this state.

" Hey- Hey, easy, slow down. " You grab onto his wrists, being ignored.

Okay. Time to think this out while you still can. He's going to rip through your clothes if you let him, and that's not just needless damage, it'll put him in control. But being aggressive about getting him to stop isn't ideal with this type of monster, you need something that distracts him too much to realize he's not exactly holding the leash here. Eventually, an idea graces your mind, though it makes you grimace a little.

Already blazing with shame, you carefully edge a hand between you and, with some hesitation, grab one of the twin members pushed against you.

Instant reaction.

The monster halts, as desired, and looks at you almost oddly, but hopefully. The trick is not giving him enough time to think, so you quickly get a feel for what you're working with, and start stroking him generously.

It's not the frenzied, rushed jerking he inflicts on himself when his own libido becomes bothersome, the fisting of a large hand with little focus and care. You handle him as pleasurably as you can manage, using both hands on him and attentively reading his face. 197 pants openly again, glancing vapidly at your small hands while they work him and he fucks into the motions, strings of thick drool falling from his teeth.

" Good...? Yeah? " You ask, gulping.

He falters and gasps, trying to articulate something. " Please. " Gets dragged out, his dick pulsing in your grasp.

You don't quite know what he's begging for, but you assume he's enjoying himself. Watching the neglected length bob uselessly, you take the opportunity to remove your own lab coat, switching hands quickly when necessary. The shirt comes off too, leaving you in your bra and pants.

By the time you glance back at him, the breeder's skin has shifted entirely to black, and he's hypnotized by the new parts of your body revealed to him, the mounds on your chest breeder females don't have but that he somehow finds pleasing to the eye regardless.

You make a lifting motion, trying to get his attention. " Knees. Come on, knees. Let me show you something. "

It takes a hot second, but he computes the request and does as told out of genuine curiosity. You're about to show an already decidedly horny monster the wonders of oral sex, which is likely not the brightest of ideas, but no one's here to judge your poor decisions.

197's girths hover far too close to your face while he waits a tad impatiently. Studying the things you'll be pleasing soon, you nearly pale a couple shades, knowing it'll take some prayer not to end up hurting your jaw. The male has lived in captivity since the day he hatched, you've enjoyed showing him some of the nicer things in life from time to time, this is just another one of them.

Carefully grabbing onto the left one, you glance at 197 as you deliberately slip your tongue out, so he doesn't just assume you're going to try biting his genitals. He tenses, because of course he would, but you take your time, stopping the moment only his tip is inside your mouth. The breeder is a tad confused and quaking slightly with ambiguous anticipation.

Then you suck.

And it clicks instantly.

God, just this little of his length is already forcing you to open wider than you've ever had to with previous partners, still, you strain to take a few more inches down and focus on that part.

The male exhales tremulously, experiencing the feeling for the first time ever, you're certain. 197 has to straighten slightly as the first intense waves of pleasure course through him, and bless the big dorky monster, he has no idea what to do with himself or his arms. As your jaw adjusts, a tad uncomfortably, you start truly gouging how much of him you can handle. Not that much honestly, but it's to be expected. It's already more than enough to please him, if the increasingly louder growled trills are any indication.

Oh, you bet this is the closest thing to heaven for him. His favorite human, with a mouth warmer than he could have ever expected, lips much softer than any of his species', no apex predator teeth to get in the way, and a tongue that although flat and short, can still chase after those wonderfully sensitive spots.

He has exactly zero idea how to react beyond making bestial noises and drooling on his own chest like a vapid animal. The way his cock pulses in your mouth is a tad bothersome to the rhythm you're trying to keep, but you figure you don't have to show-off to someone who's never had oral before, he's already blown away.

Humorously, 197's hands land on your shoulders, and that's the only way he can apparently steady himself while he's sucked off. His spare cock oozes precum that smears onto your bare chest and you half-heartedly pump it when you pop off his other dick.

" Is this okay, hm? " Needless question, really.

The breeder doesn't even make an effort to reply, whining at the loss of friction and edging forward until both his members nudge against your cheek and lips, begging without words to have that bliss again.

Feeling vaguely in control, enough to be playful, you lean away from the one closest to you and take the right one into your mouth, sucking it as far in as you physically can before switching to the other one, all just so you can hear 197 gasp and grunt out moans. His desperation causes him to buck, and as you gag, a little lightbulb fizzles above his head.

Oh.

Oh no.

The next time you try to pull away, his hands rise from your shoulders to the sides of your head. Each dark finger nearly curves over the perimeter of your skull, and you freeze instantly, not wanting him to tighten his grasp by any means. Everything is fine so long as he only holds onto your head this way, gently.

He's the one moving this time, apparently marveling at the sight of his length disappearing past your somewhat swollen, drooled lips. Except, as expected, he's going faster and deeper than you'd like, getting into it enough to trigger harsh flutters in the back of your throat. Your gagging and subsequent reflexive jerks are met with warning rumbles and one of his hands caging you in place by the back of head.

He learns fast, needless to say.

The more he drives into you, the less you can control your saliva, creating gross pops and slurps as you have little choice but to huff through your nose. Merciless, not even the odd cough around his dick will stop him now that he's nearing orgasm, or so you're willing to guess by his franticness.

Eventually, he makes the mistake of shoving his cock far enough that your jaw strains and your stomach flips, a grossly loud hurl being his response. The horrid noise finally jolts him to a still, giving you enough space to pull away and catch some much needed breath, controlling your belly before anything unfortunate happens.

" Fucking Hell! " You groan hoarsely, irritated. " You're hung like a horse, be careful... "

The rutting male's fried brain only understands that you sound wounded, a concerned chirp followed by soothing sloppy laps to your jaw being his response.

Not an ideal development at all, and yet, progress.

197 is usually very violent with the breeders they tired to pair him for mating. Which is to be expected, being the golden goose of the facility comes at a cost- The rush of hormones in his machine of a metabolism doesn't just contribute to more virility than his male peers, it also causes bursts of hyper aggression not easily controlled. And the only socialization this one usually gets is fights with other males who feel threatened by his presence, understand that they are being hurt by techs because they fail to live up to the standard 197 created, that they might be killed for such.

The females, likewise, fear him.

197 is bigger, louder, scarier. He has a reputation amongst the other breeders, and some of them were more likely to try fighting him off during their heats than accept getting sexual with him. This has led to 197 rejecting all breeders regardless of the context, which resulted in many of the paired females being immediately fatally attacked whenever a scheduled session was arranged. Sometimes he would simply slaughter them, other times he would actually instinctually attempt to mate, and end up ignoring cries of distress, nothing but rage and hormones in that brain causing him to end up killing them mid-coitus.

Shitshows, complete shitshows you've had the displeasure of partially witnessing in the past.

Which is why you're so incredibly shocked he stopped when he heard you nearly throw up. Then again, you're no breeder, and you like to think you've created as decent a connection with him as possible. It could be that.

When the monster thinks you've recovered enough, he attempts to get you to sit in the same position from before so things can resume, and if the way he's insistent on keeping a hold of your head is any indication, then he's learned he prefers to take control of this. And you won't be the fool that argues with him in this state.

After licking your lips a few times, hearing his impatient little huffs, you take one of those slicked cocks into your mouth again, letting him build the pace back up. On the one hand, you're glad you don't have to pretend to keep any composure, letting yourself drool as much as possible for the sake of making the process easier, and uncaring of the filthy noises that only seem to make his thighs quake. On the other, you need a solution so he doesn't just peirce past the back of your throat.

So, experimentally, the next time 197 pushes far enough to have your eyes rolling, you get a firm grasp of the base of his tail and tug.

The appendage lifts and his spine curves back in sudden shock. You doubt it's pain that has him straightening like a plank, after all, you know these beings can oftentimes carry their young by the tail, so if it can handle their body weight, then it can handle a yank from a human's hand. It's more so a sort of "freeze reaction", effective in getting the male to pull back even if he grunts in mild agitation.

It's only fair, in your eyes.

The moment you let go, 197 continues to fuck your face as he pleases, moaning and curving over you once more to find his own pleasure, until he drives in too much again and you repeat the gesture. Over and over, so he understands there are limits.

It seems to succeed in getting the message across. If he wants to keep getting sucked off by your hot little mouth, then he needs to be minimally considerate.

This goes on for a while, you're almost proud to feel him eventually actively hold back from going too far. Because that would halt the friction, and judging by the way his tongue lolls out in pleasure, 197 wants to come really bad.

He seems to have enjoyed your antics from before, because the male actively pulls out of your mouth with another lurid pop and positions his spare length against your lips, fucking into you a couple times before switching to the other one, doing this enough times that you honestly struggle to contain some laughter.

His throbbing increases and you know his peak approaches, quickly reaching beside you for the container as fingers race to open it. Your spare hand makes an extra effort to stroke the length 197 can't fit inside you and with as much vigor as possible, you complement his every motion.

The second you back away to breathe, strings of saliva still clinging from your lips to his dicks, offers the monster enough of a nasty view to trigger exactly what you need. 197 snarls at the top of his lungs, rapidly fisting both cocks before you. It's a decidedly disgustingly arousing display that has you staring heatedly, until the first rope of thick pearly cum lands on your cheek.

It jolts you into flustered movement, holding the canister up to the closest of his girths, you try to get as much as possible inside, unable to shield yourself from the rest of his load as it lands on your neck and tits, warm globs marking you in the throes of the specimen's ecstasy.

It's immensely relieving for him, the sighed, low and needy moans that rip out his throat evidence enough that 197 had been pent up for more than a while. And you... You're soaked in warm seed, observing his maddened jerking slow down.

This is your job now.

Personally collecting from the golden goose of the facility. All for a bonus.

Whatever, just don't think about it too much.

Giving into the guilty sense of pride you feel over making 197 stare at the ceiling in total bliss, you lean down to catch the trails dripping down those teal blue lengths, cleaning him. You don't have to, by any means, but you've already sunk so low today, what difference does it make if you let yourself go a little?

The specimen's legs tremble and he glances down at you with this utterly cum-drunk, infatuated smile. Dark, stained digits rise to comb through your hair in some kind of comforting gesture until you eventually pull away and allow the male to recover.

Now, two things.

You need to clean up somehow, you don't want his cum to dry on your skin.

There's also the matter of the second canister, you think while you grab one of the cloths in the breeder's nest to wipe your face and chest on. You probably won't be allowed to leave his cell until they're both full.

Reaching for the one already warm with 197's sample, you seal it tight, the small device in it emitting a faint green light and beeping quietly. The signal that one container has been filled is then sent to whichever tech is keeping track of this particularly... Unique task.

A pang of shame courses through you at the thought of one of your coworkers now knowing that you've made 197 orgasm.

Time to get the other one and hurry this up.

Unfortunately, as soon as you're about to set a foot outside of the nest, a huge black hand captures your leg, and you're possessively tugged back by a disgruntled breeder who barely gives you enough time to scream before he starts shredding the rest of your clothes...

Hours have passed. You're sure of it.

As far as anyone's concerned, your work has been accomplished. Both canisters are practically overflowing with untainted samples, sitting in the corner of the room so that nothing happens to them.

You're naked, sticky and likely to bruise in some areas from 197's lack of strength mediation, but you did it.

At any moment now, coworkers of yours will enter 197's cell, and you know it's going to be a total wreck. Between his likely immediate aggression, the damage they'll cause him and your less than sightly state, it'll be unpleasant.

But you can't bring yourself to care.

Not when a tireless tongue continues to groom your already exhausted form and 197's meaty cock lazily fucks globs of his hot cum back into your puffed pussy while he trills soothingly. His breathing has steadied and his heartbeat slows.

Any moment now, he might fall asleep inside you, enjoying a sweet moment of bliss before you're taken away again.

It's almost cruel.

[sunfish5149]

After rewatching round 6 for the nth time I just realized Till Win is reflected in Ivan's blood and OH. MY BMFUCCKIGBGOOOODDDD I HATE THEM I HATE THEM O HATE TJEM they could never make me hate you ivan.

Till standing next to Ivan while his body is still cooling feels awfully a lot like how a person would mourn at their loved one's grave, but I think that there's a lot more going on inside Till's head, and this just saddens me. I would crumble personally if I was him, because to me, Ivan's death also feels like a slap to the face I guess? Because until now his crush on Mizi allowed him to be selfish, to believe that once she was gone, he would be left all alone. He gave up his will to live, accepted defeat without further struggle, because he idolized and idealized Mizi to a point where his whole life depended on her existence. Perhaps he does have a crush on Mizi, but I fully believe that it partly stems from the love and adoration he saw Mizi offer to Sua, almost like "what if I could have that too?". He could not bear to part with the love and salvation he saw within Mizi, to the point where he gave away his freedom just to be near her, just for the chance that maybe he'd finally know what it feels like to be wanted, to be loved. He selfishly cut away at all the bad parts in this picture that he did not want to see, the worthless parts, the painful ones, the suffering he has endured at the hands of his captors, and ended up cutting away at the people that might've cared for him, that still do, until nothing but Mizi remained, who he foolishly believed to be able to offer him what he so desperately wanted. He made himself believe that he was alone, up until he truly, truly was. Until when can a man doggedly chase after one person until the death of what I dare call " the closest thing to family he has ever had" drop like flies around him? Round 6 offers us an answer.

I believe that part of the reason why he stood there as Ivan bled out is him processing that someone actually cared about him, loved the parts of Till that he saw to be loveless. It also feels like a wake-up call, the cut up picture that he has constructed his life around has finally been proven as the lie it is. He can no longer be selfish enough to close his eyes on reality, on his obsessive idealization for someone who will never, who cannot save him, on the fact that Mizi already loves somebody else so dearly, because the love he was searching for in someone, to be returned, was right next to him all along.

Too bad he only noticed Ivan when he was bleeding out at his feet. This is the closest thing to salvation Till will ever get from someone, to love so dearly one would give away their life without hesitation, to throw away their freedom, to not cut away at the corners of this picture, but to see it and love it and do everything to preserve it. Should Till look at such a picture, he would find the pieces of paper he has cut of himself which he believed to be loveless, reflected back at him in that puddle of blood. (I wrote this part fully relying on the muscle memory of my keyboard because my tears were deeply obstructing my vision)

This sacrifice will either ruin Till or give him motivation to live and the tenacity to fight back and free himself from the prison he has willingly walked in, and to finally accept that Mizi is a lesbiab and a ferocious grieving woman kisser. oh my god.

Edit: I JUST REALIZED MIZI ALSO IDOLIZES SUA THE SAME WAY TILL DOES WITH MIZI I HATE THEM I HATE TJEM J HATWHENM

[cupcakeslushie]

I dont usually send asks, mostly cause im shy and don’t know what to say lol, but I wanted to share my appreciation for your Kendratello AU, cause it’s helped me recognize a toxic relationship in my own life.

I’ve never been a victim to SA or anything of the likes, so I can’t say I’ve been EXACTLY in Donnie’s place, but something that unsettled me early on when reading your AU was how…NICE Kendra would seem when alone with Donnie.

In a lot of media, especially in the media I saw growing up, the manipulative antagonist almost always had very obvious tells that show they’re evil when interacting with the victim. Maybe they’re talking about committing a very clearly villainous deed, keep the protagonist prisoner, something like that. But Kendra didn’t. Well, not always.

Kendra destroyed Donnie from the foundation up, and then rebuilt him back up to be who she wanted him to be, would punish him but then spin the situation around to be his own fault, but the rest of the time she would seem kind.

Only recently have I realized that someone very close to me has been toxic for most of our lives, and the reason it took me this long to realize it was because they would treat me kindly only until it became in their own interest to act otherwise. But I would take it, because I loved them and didn’t want to hurt their feelings, and I assumed that since they loved me, they wouldn’t ACTUALLY (emotionally) hurt me.

Spoiler alert: they did.

I’m not going to get much more into it, but your AU’s been very comforting to me ever since this happened, because it’s helping me come to terms with the fact that what happened wasn’t my fault just because our relationship seemed nice most of the time.

Your depiction of Kendra manipulating Donnie so realistically, and Donnie slowly but surely realizing that Kendra was hurting him is so powerful, and I thank you for that.

I’m so happy for you Anon 💚💚

It’s good to see these patterns, and depending on how toxic the relationship is, to speak up for yourself, or cut the person out, if they are unwilling to change.

Kindness is often a tool used by manipulators. But the biggest thing to ask yourself is exactly what you saw. Is this person only nice to me when they need something from me? And if so, then this isn’t real kindness. Good for you for knowing your worth!!

⚠️

sa related ask and discussions of very toxic relationships…

Personal experience rambling below. Toxic friendship and sa mention.

I’ll only be discussing this once, here, in this post. So I’m afraid if I get anyone asking for further info, I’m not going to reply /lh

I’m very sorry for what you’ve gone through. I hope you can find what you need to heal. Everyone’s traumas are so different, so please if you can, and haven’t already, speak to a professional that will give you help catered to you.

But I do want to immediately answer your question and say, yes, I have healed, for the most part. It took a lot of work and self-reflection that I didn’t want to do, because it was scary. But when I finally talked to someone, and realized I needed to take action in order to heal, that was when the process started.

For years, I thought my only options were to suffer in silence, and that what happened to me was my own fault, because towards the end, I was consenting. But I didn’t understand how my mindset and self worth had become so twisted.

My person (let’s call him J) was one of my best friends growing up. But as he got older, and more interested in…mature things, he changed. J would only ever agree to hang out together unless I offered to give him something to make it worth his while. Eventually I started to think these acts were all I was good for, as that’s all that made him happy to be around me. Pretty soon, J didn’t even have to push the ideas onto me. He only had to act uninterested or busy, and I would sit there and beg to do whatever he wanted.

The idea of rejection grew to be so painful and terrifying as he was one of only two friends that I had (the other being his sister. So if I lost one, I was so scared to lose the other). And I’d recently lost one of my closest childhood friends. Which he often used her cutting contact with us in his manipulations as well.

(It wasn’t until years later that she contacted me through Facebook and revealed that it was J that made her feel too uncomfortable, and as she already lived two hours away from us, and only visited once a year, it was just easier for her to cut off contact. I don’t blame her now, but without that knowledge, the thought that it was something I did, only helped J manipulate me.)

As I grew older, and I got better friends, I started to learn just how much I’d been pushed into only ever doing what he wanted, and how one sided of a relationship it was. He moved away, and that distance I was so scared of became a reality. But it was the best thing to ever happen. I still wonder what would’ve happened if he’d stayed in town. If we might’ve gotten married or if I would’ve finally stood up for myself. But all that matters is he is gone. There is always the danger of him coming home and me seeing him—we were neighbors, so his parents and mine still live right next door. Holidays can be kind of a high stress time lol.

That cafe comic is actually probably the most therapeutic piece out of the whole Kendratello AU I’ve done, as it’s always been a fear of mine that I could just turn around and he’d be in town visiting lol. Sending Kendra through that portal was highly cathartic. But even if that were to happen now, I have my coping skills, and I’m in a much better headspace. I think I would be able to handle myself.

I’m still a people pleaser, I don’t think that’s ever going to go away, even with all the work I’ve done. The biggest thing is, I know I’m worth more now. I can see real kindness, and catch the fake stuff much better by looking for those same toxic signs. The real friendships I’ve made have shown me what connection is truly like. It’s not a one-sided negotiation every time you get together. And if it is, then it’s probably not a healthy give and take. I’ve healed, but it is a constant effort.

Every new person sets off some kind of anxiety in the back of my head, but I don’t let that fear control how our relationship will develop. I’ve got the final say in what happens and what I get out of it.

[todomochi-uwu]

Who. (2/?) J. Y & S. M

Pairing: Poly! Jeong Yunho x reader x Song Mingi

Genre: Angst, Smut

Warnings: This content is for a mature audience

Synopsis: You can't remember when was the last time you spent time with them, the last "I love you", the last time any of them kissed you.

Other chapters: Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee ☕

Yunho kept checking the file in his hands, reading over and over the same words not being able to register anything, his head was all over the place, between the tiredness, the stress and his broken heart, concentrating was proving to be impossible.

“Careful, Jeong. If you think any harder your head might catch on fire.” Said Lee Minho entering the doctor’s launch with an empty coffee mug.

“Piss off, Minho.” He didn't turn his eyes from the paper, determined to make it work no matter how much it took.

Minho’s eyes focused on the taller man in front of him, his skin was paler than normal, a slight blue tint covered it; his eyes were sunk in their sockets, dark purple bags underneath them; lips dry and crusty; he looked thinner, he looked sick. Yunho and Minho weren’t by any means close, they had spent the entire med school fighting for the top spot in their class; Jeong Yunho had proved to be a real pain in the ass, managing to balance school, work, friends and a fucking three-way relationship while Lee Minho could barely sleep and see his, now, husband.

“Not that I care, Jeong but, are you okay?” Said Minho, leaning against the countertop and waiting for the coffee to be done.

Yunho tossed the folder on the table, completely done. He pressed his fingers against his eyelids, trying to calm the blinding headache he had been carrying around his entire shift. “I don’t think it’s any of your business, Lee.”

The cat-eyed doctor shrugged, not wanting to dig any further, he tried. He took his mug and made a beeline straight to the door, but he couldn’t help but look back at his school rival, and what he saw shocked him a bit. His shoulders were slumped, and shaking, his face in between his hands, and small but heavy sobs left his mouth. A suffering Yunho was something he had never expected to see, and while he thought it would bring him joy, it just made him feel weird. He would have to ask Jisung what was going on, he was friends with Mingi, and he would have to know.

______________________________________________________________

Mingi was not doing any better at work. He fell asleep on his desk, barely paid attention at meetings, and was hostile to his co-workers and possible clients. Jongho was done with attitude, he had been patient, as much as he could, and he tried to understand the situation, but it was becoming too much.

“Mingi, I am begging you, please go home, you cannot continue like this. Get some sleep, eat and come back when you are better.” Jongho said as softly as possible, not wanting to trigger another fight with the dirty blonde lawyer in front of him.

“Jongho, I’m okay. I would rather just be working, there’s nothing to do at home anyways.”

“Mingi…” He was interrupted.

“Jongho, I won't repeat myself, leave me alone.” He turned his chair away from the younger lawyer.

That was it. He was done.

Jongho slammed his hand against the desk, startling Mingi, “Listen to me, Mingi, I get that you are sad, okay? I get it. But you cannot come here and act like a fucking dick and expect everyone to be okay with it. We tried to be nice and give you a couple of weeks to recover, but so far, we have lost two important clients because of your attitude and you pissed off three more. I’m sorry she left, but I highly doubt she would come back if she saw the mess you’ve become. Yelling at people, turning work in late, getting drunk, fighting with Yunho, do you think she wants that? Because I highly doubt it.” He jabbed his finger into Mingi’s chest. “Get. Your. Shit. Together.” And with that he left the office, slamming the door on his way out.

Mingi sighed, taking off his tie. He closed his eyes trying to calm down, but it seemed impossible. Anxiety had been tormenting him for almost a month now, and it didn’t seem like it would stop any time soon. He misses you. A lot. He just didn’t know how to function without that missing piece. Nothing was working right now, his head was always a mess, always going back to that night, trying to remember every moment he neglected you; he was trying to balance out his pain and stress to not mess up his relationship with Yunho as well; while also trying to balance out work as to not get fired, or at least not to piss off Jongho even more, but nothing is working. He misses you, and without you, nothing in him works.

______________________________________________________________

Chan was in the kitchen bar working; his heavy and expensive headphones sat on the top of his head while he was nodding along to the rhythm of his last track. He kept replaying it to try and figure out what was missing, what he could change or fix, but he just couldn’t concentrate. Flashbacks kept showing up in his head, replaying again and again, memories of his college days, memories of the time he fell in love with his now roommate and failed to do something about it.

It was the winter semester; the campus was covered in snow and everyone found refuge inside the library. Chan was planning to go there and work on a paper that was due that same night, but once he saw the amount of people inside the building, he decided he wouldn’t be able to work there. And just as he was about to leave, he saw Hongjoong sitting on a couch in the corner, next to him was something that made the producer’s mouth dry. A woman so beautiful his eyes couldn’t believe what they were seeing, his brain couldn’t comprehend what was happening, his feet moved on their own in that direction, he needed to talk to her, to know her name, to introduce himself. His friend got up as soon as he saw him, greeting him and introducing her. Y/n. That was her name, a name Chan would never be able to forget.

A friendship was established that day. You would start by hanging out with Hongjoong, going out to eat, watch a movie or to a party; but soon it became just the two of you. Hanging out at each other’s dorms, he showed you some of his music, and you showed him some of her stories; at first, he would walk you back to her room every night, but after some time you would stay over, “it’s easier” you said. One fateful night, Christopher finally made a move, giving you a quick peck on the lips while listening to your favourite artist’s latest album, the largest seconds of his life were right after, waiting for your reaction; you ended up fucking on top of his desk, pushing all his books, and cd’s to the floor.

That was the way the next months were spent, hanging out and finding any and every excuse to have sex, but never giving a title to what you were. Chan just assumed you weren’t ready for that kind of commitment, convincing himself he was fine with what you had, not admitting he was just too much of a coward to ask if you felt the same as him.

“I just don’t understand him, Jisung. One day he acts as if we were a couple, and the next he calls me his best friend. Friends don’t treat each other the way we do, friends don’t do what we do.”

“Maybe he isn’t ready for that kind of commitment, he would just rather stay as friends with benefits.” Jisung pat her on the back, trying to comfort her.

“But I don’t want to be just friends with benefits.” You pouted her lips.

“Hey, come on, don’t be sad. I'll tell you what, why don’t you come with me to Wooyoung’s party this Friday? You’ll have fun and forget, at least for a bit, about Chan.”

Christopher’s first mistake was introducing you to Jisung. The second one was allowing you to befriend him. And his last, but most fatal one was not going to that party. Why? Because Yunho and Mingi were there.

“Y/n, this my friend Mingi. Mingi, this is Y/n.” And just like that, it was over before it could even begin. That same night Mingi had introduced you to Yunho, and they both were heads over heels for you, they asked you to hang out the very next day and while at first you were confused as to how it would work, they won you over, pushing completely out the idea of Chan off your head.

He remembered the first time you talked about them, he thought you had just made out with one of them at the party, and while he wasn’t exactly happy about it, he could let it slide, no idea of what was about to come. Texts left unanswered; calls that went to voicemail; and long nights waiting for you to show up, but at some point, it became clear, that you were not just sleeping around with them, you were in love. That very same night he went out and got drunk out of his mind, only being able to get back home after Changbin and Minho found him trashed on a bench in front of their building. He blamed himself, if he hadn’t been so scared, if he had just tried, you would be his, and he promised himself that if that door ever opened again, he would be there. But as time went on, it became more apparent that would never happen… until now.

He kept repeating over and over to himself that you weren’t ready, that you still love them and that you were still mourning that relationship, but he couldn’t help himself, he wanted you.

The last month he had been in some kind of hell in heaven. When you first had shown up, he was pissed off beyond comprehension, how could they let this happen? How could they treat you like that? He had spent every second of his existence since he met you, loving and worshipping the ground you walk on and they had let you slip away? Unbelievable. But he couldn’t help but see the perks of all of this. He was the one to console you, to build you back up, and through the course of the weeks, you were better.

He would come back home to you cooking, greeting him the second he went in; you telling him about your day or a new show you were watching; you showed him your work and asked his opinion. Everything went back to how it was; it was even better. This is what he had been missing out all this time?

“Good morning, Channie.”

“Welcome back, Chan. I made some spaghetti; I hope you like it.”

“Hey, Chan. How was work?”

Oh, blissful domesticity. But everything was too good to be true. They would show up in the most subtle ways, in the middle of a conversation, in the notifications of your phone, even in the clothes you wore, they still smell like them; your ex-boyfriends were everywhere in his apartment, tormenting him. And, of course, he wasn’t blind, he could see it, your face still showed how heartbroken you were, and he could also hear it at night, small sobs escaped your mouth, whispering their names again and again.

Yunho…

Mingi…

Never his name.

______________________________________________________________

Jisung had just arrived home, his hands full of grocery bags balancing them while trying to open the door, and just as he was about to spill everything on the ground, a soft hand came to his rescue.

“Jesus, Sungie be careful.” The person behind him giggled.

“Y/n?” His eyebrows furrowed, confused, but he still leaned in and hugged you. “What are you doing here? How did you get in the building?”

“Oh, I live here now.”

“Mingi gave up his rent control apartment? Is he crazy?”

“Um… not exactly.” You scratched the back of your head.

“Okay, come inside and tell me what’s going on.”

…

“And that’s how I ended up living with Chan.” You took a small sip of the hot chocolate Jisung had prepared.

“Have you talked to them?”

You shook your head.

Jisung’s arms were folded against his chest, his eyes looking directly at yours, not sure what to say, “So it’s over between you and them?”

“I don’t know, Hannie. I love them, so much it hurts, but I don't think they feel the same way, they act as if I'm not even there, as if I'm not important to them.” You lay down on the kitchen table, controlling your breathing so you won't start crying.

“Well, that’s just not true.” He put his hand on top of your head, petting you, “Mingi can be an idiot sometimes and the same goes for Yunho, but they love you, baby. From the very first moment they met you, they have loved you, maybe they just lost their tracks for a moment, but they will come back to you.” He kissed you on the forehead, “and if for some reason they don’t, I will be there to help you pick up the pieces.”

______________________________________________________________

Minho arrived late at night, completely done with work and with stubborn patients who thought they knew more than him because they read an article on the internet. Jisung ran to the front door as soon as he heard the jiggling of the keys, ready to receive his grumpy husband. He accompanied him into the kitchen, where he served him a hot plate of his favourite food and told him about this day.

“I found the chips you like on sale so I bought a couple, I also bought the ingredients I was missing for that ramen you want to try, oh and I tried that juice I’ve been craving, but it wasn’t that good.” Minho couldn’t keep up with the number of things that came out of his husband’s mouth, but he was happy to listen. “Oh, oh my god I almost forgot, guess who I ran into?”

“Who?” He said while shoving a spoonful of soup into his mouth.

“Y/n, she broke up with Mingi and Yunho, and she’s staying with Chan.”

Minho choked, coughing aggressively, not believing the words that came out of Jisung’s mouth. Everything made sense now, that’s why the puppy-like doctor had been so miserable the last couple of weeks. And why Chan had been avoiding him lately. He got up and headed towards the door, “Give me a second, love I’ll be right back.”

He made his way down the hall, he was in no mood to do this, but it had to be done. He had witnessed first-hand how completely devastated had Chan been after you had broken his heart (not that he thinks you did it on purpose), how hard it was to get him to shower, to go to work, how long it took him to go back to normal, and he feared it would happen again. He pounded on the door, not caring if the neighbours next door complained. The door opened harshly, a sleep-deprived Christopher on the door side, looking at him as if he had grown to heads.

“Min, it’s two in the morning, what the hell are you doing here?”

The doctor grabbed him by the arm and shoved him into the wall next to the door, “You are going to explain to me exactly what you think you are doing.”

“I'm not doing anything. She’s my friend, I want to help her move…”

He interrupted, “What? Move on? Were you planning to be her saviour so she would fall in love with you? Bang Chan, she’s been engaged to them for almost a year now, they are just going through a rough patch…”

“They broke up.”

“They will get back together, it's more than obvious, they are in love.” He whispered yelling, he was worried, did Chan think he had a chance?

“They neglected her, Minho they took her for granted, I would…”

“Chan, listen to me, she’s not in love with you, whatever you two had it's over, it's been over for years, for Christ's sake.” He shook his shoulders, trying to get some sense into him.

“I know what I'm doing.”

“You clearly, don’t.” He pushed his friend back into his apartment and went back to his. His entire body ached, but anxiety filled his head, not letting him rest.

______________________________________________________________

“So, she finally dumped your ass, good for her honestly,” Minho said as he entered Yunho’s office. The latter one looked up at him, the look in his eyes completely dead. “Geez, you look like shit.”

“What do you want, Minho? I'm busy, I don’t have time for your bullshit.”

“I know where she is.”

“What?” Yunho looked at him with wide-open eyes. “Don’t you fucking dare lie to me about this.” He got up and grabbed Lee by the collar and shook him, “How the fuck do you know that?”

“Because I saw her.” Little white lie, but he technically did know where she was. He pushed him back, “I don’t like you, Yunho, at all. But I know what it's like to be in your shoes, so I’ll make you a deal, you get your shit together and I might just tell you where she is.”

______________________________________________________________

Yunho’s hands kept trembling, he had barely been able to drive home without crashing. He wanted to scream, to cry, to tell Mingi what Minho had told him, all at the same time, but he also thought, what would he say? How could he apologize? Would she take them back? He went into the house, Mingi was lying on the couch, a book in his hands and glasses sitting on his face, his eyebags and skin tone resembling his boyfriend’s, he turned to look at him, noticing how fidgety and dishevelled he looked.

“Are you okay? Did something happen at work?” He got up and approached Yunho, he grabbed his face in his hands and caressed his cheeks.

“Um…” he bit off some of the skin in his lip, not knowing how to deliver the news, his head couldn’t put the words together, not even able to process them. “Minho told me something today.”

“Ugh, that asshole. I don’t know how Jisung married that guy, he's such a nice guy and Minho is so…”

Yunho interrupted him, not able to hold it in any longer, “Minho says he knows where Y/n is staying.”

Mingi felt how the air left his body, all thoughts abandoning his mind in the same way, tears were quick to rush to his eyes, “What?”

“Yeah, he saw her and knows where she’s been staying.” He paused to order his next words, “And he said he will tell me if we manage to get our shit together.”

Mingi took him into his arms and squeezed him till he was out of breath, not being able to contain his happiness. Together they cried and smiled while the thought of everything going back to normal filled them, that was until something crossed their minds at the same time, would you even want them back?

______________________________________________________________

Tag list:

@tunaasan @scuzmunkie

[waltricia]

Bridgerton season 2 episode 3, “A Bee in Your Bonnet” is ✨magic✨ and let me tell you why.

For those of us who didn’t read the book and knew nothing of what was going to happen, we truly went on an incredible and surprising roller coaster of an experience.

We start the episode with seeing the guy from Hellboy and being like ‘oh yay, it’s the guy from Hellboy!’

… only for him to die three minutes later. And that scene is rough. It’s sudden and abrasive. And the sounds are jarring. The death is scored by tense strings. Then a moment of quiet. Then the AMAZING Ruth Gemmell begins taking us on Violet’s traumatic grief journey, which starts with her jolting Anthony (and us) out of the quiet.

And a thunderous heartbeat threatens him as he walks toward this entirely altered, unwanted life path. And that’s obviously the beginning of his PTSD.

In the other flashbacks throughout the episode, we continue to hear horrific, heart-rending pain radiate out of Violet while Anthony must not only attempt to endure it, but cover his own grief. Anthony and his siblings (and again, we the audience) all have to listen to Violet grieve while she’s giving birth! Screams on top of screams.

And the last flashback is technically quiet, but just as devastating because, like the moment of Edmund’s death, the quiet is weaponized. It signifies the death inside Violet.

It should go without saying that Jonathan Bailey is also a brilliant actor, but I’ll say it now anyway. Damn, he good! He and Ruth partnered perfectly in this grief journey. Serious props to them both because I felt this shit.

And then finally we come to the end. We had been immersed in the horrible aftermath of that striking tragedy. Between the flashbacks- in the present day- we had followed Anthony through the rooms and grounds where he had suffered silently. We had seen Edmund’s grave. We had learned that Anthony’s greatest fears and insecurities all stemmed from that tragic event ten years prior.

And then another fucking bee comes along.

And I swear to god, the first time I watched this, when Kate got stung, my heart was pounding, I was terrified, and my instinctive reaction was “oh my god, is she going to die?!” In hindsight, it’s obviously insane to think that she would be killed off at all, let alone in this scene. But the very fact that, for a moment, that was a legitimate fear I had is exactly why this episode is so god damn brilliant. I felt what Anthony felt. And I’m not the only one! I’ve seen other people’s similar reactions to this scene. The episode really is a roller coaster; easy, lighthearted moments (pall mall, drug tea), interspersed with the terrifying drops and loops that are Anthony’s painful memories which constantly haunt him. And then it brought us right back to that first traumatic moment. Because Anthony has PTSD! And that’s what PTSD does. Anthony is right back where he was, literally not far from the same spot outside Aubrey Hall, standing in front of a person he loves, watching them get stung by a bee on almost the same spot on their body. The tense string scoring comes back and Anthony panics because he’s completely helpless again.

And all of those elements- the setting, the scoring, the acting- combined to terrify us and make us forget something critical: most people don’t die from beestings.

And here’s where it gets really profound for me. Because it’s not just about how we feel Anthony’s fear. It’s also about how Kate completely obliterates it. Without knowing that history and without realizing the full extent of what her actions would mean, she does exactly the right thing. Rather than die and rather than also panic or shy away from his vulnerability, she meets it with her own in the form of care and steady assurance, which is true strength. And in so doing, she stops this cyclical moment in its tracks and completely alters the trauma. She puts his hand on her heart, and the heartbeat comes back. But this time, it’s not threatening. It’s inviting.

And just like in the first scene, the moment is over all too quickly. Just like in that scene, Anthony is thrust onto a new path. But where that moment was damaging, this one is healing. And we feel that too. And it’s the greatest experience that art can give us.

It’s catharsis.

And that’s why this episode is magic. 🐝✨

[arminsumi]

. . . 彡 🗑️ trash draft: goodboy façade.

NOTE: i present to u... nerd armin crumbs. i've sat on this thing for months, it was part of a longer fic that i had planned out but it was too much to write for me so i gave up on it lol

🔞 minors don't read or interact / n.sfw / smut / 18+ content

WARNINGS — stereotypes, m*sturbation, sending nxdes for a paid dare, mentions of alcohol but not being drunk, mean reader, min's fantasies include creampies, lmk if i have missed a warning thank u

🍒 — J ⋅ reblogs and comments help a lot ! enjoy reading :)

He was sick of it. Sick of seeing that red tint on your lips. Sick of the way his pants tightened up at your flirting. Sick of only having your lips around his dick in his fantasies.

And good god, he had an endless stream of fantasies. As far as his imagination's concerned, you've had sex with him every day.

His fist isn't enough. His daydreams of you aren't enough. He needs to really feel you, or he might actually explode.

But despite his overwhelming lust, his hands are tied behind his back, and his shirt collar is as pristine as his goodboy façade.

You know how you turn him on, in fact you're sorely aware. It's almost amusing to see him suffer.

He blushes up to his ears when you compliment him. His pants tighten when you murmur dirty jokes into his ear. He nearly chokes on air when you 'accidentally' press your thigh against his during Levi's lectures.

Your scent lingers on his T-shirt and he can't help but inhale them and start rubbing his hardening cock through his sweatpants.

He's focusing hard on the image of you pawing at his bulge, teasing him for being too wimpy to make a move himself. His fantasy grows bigger with each stroke of his hand, his pretty pink tip is flushed and throbbing underneath the grey fabric. The outline of his cock looks like something right out of a hentai, and the same goes for his moans.

He muffles his whimpers on his hand, imagining that it's your lips muffling the sound instead. He gives his aching cock a few squeezes through his sweatpants. He heard a rumor that you tend to tease like that.

Just as he gets into it, his phone erupts with dinging notifications. Right then, it's the most annoying sound on earth. He's torn right out of his fantasy of you.

The repetitive sound gets on his nerves, that is, until he checks who its from, and sees that it's you messaging him.

His jaw fucking drops at the message. His brain short circuits. Is his vision deceiving him? Is this real life right now? He's just about losing it.

Meanwhile, you're giggling over your phone screen with your girl friends. The time glares at you in the corner; 2:45 am.

Everyone at this party thinks that you're wasted, but that's one of the many talents you possess; acting drunk when actually you're as sober as a priest.

Your girl friends can't stop with their stupid, drunk giggles.

"Alright, I did it. Pay up." You smile evilly over at your favorite blond, Tori.

She groaned and pulled out her phone. Within a couple of minutes, you received a notification that your wish list was 'anonymously' purchased.

"Thanks, Tori, 'love you!" You coo and smile, pulling her in for a hug.

"I didn't think you'd actually do it..." She giggles to herself, "Armin is probably too prudish to stare at it too long, you know."

Your smile morphs into a cruel smirk. In this friend group, there is no debate about Armin's 'prudishness'. What's the problem with being a virgin at twenty-two years old? Nothing at all, there's nothing wrong with that; but your opinions have molded to fit the shape of your friends, haven't they? So you just agree that Armin is the biggest prude at your college.

And that poor boy, that poor boy, he's laying in bed freaking out over the fact you sent him a nude of yourself, meanwhile you're getting back to partying.

You did not just accidentally send him your best nude, there's no way.

What's worse than the lack of context is the fact you went offline right after he read the message. There's no way, he thought.

Armin can't even form a thought. His eyes are just glued to his screen. He subconsciously brought his face closer, and his hand dove under his pants.

There's no way it was an accident, he knows that, he's not an idiot. He's the valedictorian of your college.

Whimpers fill Armin's dorm room. His mind is racing. Heart palpitating. Your name falls off his lips while he approaches one of the best orgasms he's had in a while.

Before he knows it he's spurting hot ropes of his cum all over his shirt, the shirt that smells like your scent. Your name echoes off his walls, and in his mind he's just deliciously filled you up to the brim with his milky white release.

[onyourhyuck]

Popular. | N.JM | PART 1

— Prologue: “Who’s the new girl?” + “Jaemin. Don’t tell me you are already harassing the new girl?”

— Summary: Revenge becomes love? Old faces become new faces? Where you enroll back to your old school where you got bullied, to get revenge on Na Jaemin but he cannot recognise you.

— Genre: Popularboy!najaemin x goodgirl!y/n. Revenge plot with romance and smut. Mention of bullying. Plot twists. Very sensitive subjects no minors. School sex(?) exhibition. Jaemin’s obsessed with y/n. Enemies to lovers (kinda)

— Notes: Popular - The Series Masterlist.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The old faces become new faces, but to you they will always be the same. You see you’re enrolling back to a school you swore to never become back to but you made a long life promise that you will come back as a different person. And you did. You levelled up while everyone else stayed and stood the same. You’re a new person. New you. New chapter. No one can recognise you because you poured all the blood sweats and tears into your new self and new life to come back and show them what they’re missing out on. All you ever wanted was to be popular.

You wanted to be liked. You wanted to be invited to things, the things you craved back then are only getting more and more intense. You would’ve done anything to have what the popular kids have, to experience getting love and compliments. You wanted to be mainstream, you wanted to be viral. The attention they got was unfair because you never once had it back then. But now it’s different. You’re the new girl. No one recognises you.

At least you hope someone does recognise you so you can shove it in their face how brand new you look with all the hard work and suffering you had to go through.

Walking down those school hallways was something haunting. You feel like you’re back at the very start of hell that you had to deal with all those years, but now the looks on people’s faces weren’t facing you but giving you surprise glances. They have a new girl enrolling?

The boy on the side wearing a red hoodie with a white shirt underneath and a pair of denim jeans was caught off guard by the beautiful peach scent running from his nostrils, glaring up wondering where it was coming from, he saw an unfamiliar figure walking in front. Wearing a loose white sweater over a collared shirt buttoned up. The flowyness of the black skirt fluttering from each step she took with her legs. It just makes him stand there, mesmerised and also, thinking who was that?

The boy nudged his friend who closed the locker with a gentle slam. “Hey Sungchan,” He spoke with the inability to look away but make his friend watch the person he became someone so infatuated with. “Who’s the new girl?”

The taller boy, Sungchan, also his best friend despite being a year younger looks over at the girl he pointed at and a long-long face was expressed on him. “Jaemin. Don’t tell me you are already harassing the new girl?” Sungchan sighs.

“Looks like you don’t know either.”

The guy with slight light brunette hair smirks when he mentions that Jaemin’s curiosity was far too much already. Jaemin’s smirk stays as his eyes look at Sungchan and he pats his chest with the palm. “Cya at lunch Chan.” Jaemin said suddenly jogging away from his friend leaving Sungchan by the lockers completely stranded, but not surprised.

‘Why am I not surprised? It’s Jaemin.’ The younger boy said to himself under the breath of holding back from shouting, trying not to seem so surprised but every time something happens, he was left alone to deal with his mess.

Running to dodge a few people passing through a sudden person now walks on the same length pace as you and your eyes caught the guy instantly. You remember him. The flashbacks run in your eyes like it was yesterday it happened. How he ignored you. Left you when you needed the help the most. The same anger flusters your knuckles but you roll them forward and your strength was holding back, you had the urge to just punch him already knowing what he did to you. But he seems to be completely oblivious? Does he really not remember you? You found it almost offensive that he does not recognise you considering what he did, it stays buried within your past.

Your glare appointed to the boy you stop when you notice he was following you and about to speak to you, so you shut him up immediately before he could even speak. “What do you want?” Well that came out slightly more meaner from you than Jaemin thought he would get. “You’re the new girl right? Why don’t I give you a school tour guide at lunch time.” He offers with a sweet smile.

This was God’s plan in a way. You thought this was perfect timing to get your revenge on him and just shout at him, reveal who you are, but you couldn’t do that. You didn’t have the strength to shout and scream anymore all you have is the numbing anger to deal with on your old wounds.

Then it hits you. He doesn’t recognise you and he thinks you’re a new girl, someone he doesn’t have relations with at all. Your eyes light up and your thoughts begin to trail like a running waterfall in synch.

What if you make him fall for you? Then you can take your revenge when he really loves you? You could make him regret what he did. He can be the first one on your list to take your revenge on.

You saw that the boy was waiting for your answer with hopeful sweet eyes. Your thoughts were too dark. You were wanting revenge not friendship, so to make this look real you have to pull your act together and hide your anger from everyone, at least for now. You pull a fake smile. “Sure, show me around.”

You swore Jaemin’s sweet smile widens. “Perfect. I’m Na Jaemin and you are…?”

The hand extends out to shake yours and you feel your eyebrows raise up furrowing as you had to think of a name for yourself. You remember you even given yourself a brand new name when enrolling into this school. You really had everything planned from the get-go.

“Y/n.” You tell him as you softly shake him by the hand. Jaemin was taking notes mentally already of your name, he found you mysterious. And he loves mysterious especially for a curious guy like he is you are a dangerous box for him to find.

He smiles. “Y/n huh? Pretty name. I’ll meet you in the cafeteria. It’s by the right side of you go straight ahead. Don’t forget that.”

“I won’t forget.” Not like you can. It’s not actually your first time being at this school.

You nearly forgot how nerving it must be being the new student. Especially when you’re standing in front of the class front of everyone, the teacher trying to make the class settle down and go quiet so you could introduce yourself.

“Come on kids settle down, it’s a Monday morning you shouldn’t be so hyperactive and happy.” The teacher glimpses back to you and the students with a sarcastic tone.

The students settle down. You recognise some of them. How can you forget after all? They all did you wrong.

Ningning, the most popular girl in the school who makes everything a competition if a slightest person gets more attention than her. She is popularity itself. People often refer to her as Queen of popularity. But you’re determined to overtake her, make her life a hell like she did to you.

Then there was Chenle. He was pretty wealthy and he got away with many many things you saw him do. He doesn’t even know you saw him do it because back then, you were someone else. You were nearly broken.

And you can’t forget Jaemin. Na Jaemin. The boy who does everything so effortlessly. The school heartthrob. The most popular guy you could ever think about. Jaemin is a social network. He was everything you have to be careful of.

‘Unless you’re going to use him.’ You thought to yourself.

The teacher gave you a sign to start when you’re ready and you clear your worrisome thoughts putting on a friendly smile. You bow your head. “Hello I’m Y/n I hope we all get along well.” The students welcome you by clapping their hands as you take a seat down at the middle section. You thought it was perfect if you sat there considering you didn’t want to be at the back like before.

Students were surprised by how pretty you are too, especially the boys in the class seem to be gossiping already, which just makes Ningning on edge. The new girl was already rousing up people saying how cute you look.

Jaemin smirks raising his hand. “Sir can I sit next to Y/n? I promised to show her around at lunch.” He smugly told to everyone so they can all wow and gasp. You’re already on first name basis and it made everyone’s lips widen.

You find Jaemin already so annoying that he’s sticking by you but this makes your job so much easier.

He just doesn’t know who you are it makes this all so much funnier how he’s doing everything he can to be around you. Hip to hip.

“You may.” The teacher said dismissing it so the lesson can go on. Jaemin moves to the next vacant chair and table next to your desk where you sat and he gives you a healing warm smile.

He starts to admire you from the side profile. You really look like a doll from any angle. Jaemin raised an eyebrow though. “Do you perhaps have a sister or anything?” Jaemin now said thinking. “Or is this your first time enrolling?”

He has a feeling he knows you from somewhere but he cannot brush it away without asking straight up.

Your eyes widen. “Sister? No… It’s my first time enrolling.” You mumble quietly not wanting to attract much attention to his question either. It’s best to act dumb and play along.

Jaemin let’s out a soft ‘huh’. He wasn’t sure why he thought you’d had an older sister or something. “Hm okay then.”

“Anyways, Y/n. What school did you come from before then?” He smiles watching you.

You don’t even bother to look at him, Jaemin found it so interesting how you’re listening to the lesson while not even paying much mind to him. “I was homeschooled.”

You had to be especially careful not to reveal too much of your past to him, but you can say you were homeschooled.

He leans closer. “Did you ever go to a school like this before then?”

“Nope.”

“Not even once?”

“No.”

“Wow… you must suck at socialising then Y/n. I mean… you sounded pretty angry with me when we first met.”

You wanted to slam your pencil and tell him to stop speaking when you’re in middle of a lesson trying to catch up with some work but you couldn’t do that to him otherwise you’d explode. And it might get you in trouble.

You patiently bite down on your tongue and pray Jaemin just shuts up. “I was in a grumpy mood, don’t pay mind to my tone.” You grit your teeth as you spoke and Jaemin smirks.

He knows he’s getting to you. “Am I annoying you Y/n?” Jaemin would ask you as if he didn’t know that he was, but it felt much nicer to hear it from you. You lift your face up with a heavy sigh away from the paper you’re writing class notes in as you turn to look at him.

“Yes, yes you are. I’m trying to write these class notes.” You say to him truthfully trying to put the hint across and Jaemin let’s out a soft ‘awh’ at you.

“Look at you trying to be a good student already. Can I copy some of the notes from you?” He smirks watching your expression twitch a little.

‘What a dick.’ You thought to yourself as if you never experienced people leeching off you again.

“Will you shut up if you do?” You sigh desperate for some peace and quiet over here as you see Jaemin smirk nodding. “Of course.”

You don’t know if you can believe him. Actually you don’t. But you did this anyways and handed your notes to him so he can take a copy of it on the paper he owns.

You snatch your paper away once he was done out his hand and he sheepishly smirks leaning closer whispering to you when you’re going back to writing down on the paper.

“Thank you Y/n.” Jaemin whispers pulling away.

“No problem, Jaemin.” You sarcastically said with a tone that wasn’t so nice and upbeat to him, whispering it back.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank you! Please reblog this fic and follow me for more updates on my pinned post!

[googledetective]

my thoughts about the new drdt episode...

I want to start off that this episode has not left me in a great mental state and this piece of fiction is starting to effect my reality in a negative way, currently. I do suffer from mental health issues, so please be sympathetic. If something I say seems too emotional or a bit off, that's likely why. My therapist will be hearing about drdt, lol. No hate towards drdt, it's an amazing project, and I'm amazed at how the piece of fiction is able to make me react in such a way.

1. I am not educated on ASPD or anything like that, so if I say something wrong feel free to correct me. I had a feeling that Levi likely had it from his secret, but this is a cool confirmation. I like that this is represented in a really great way, and that the reactions to his confessions are also very realistic. I like Levi a lot, but now I understand him so much more, and it makes me really appreciate him.

2. I find it interesting how Levi is so detached, as Veronika said, to everything. Even if I was not capable of remorse, I would've remembered killing my own father. I wonder what his father did to be so looked down upon.

2.5. OKAY SO HES KINDA JUST LIKE ME FR. like I stated previously I've had some bad mental health issues in the past to the point I've kicked windshields of cars in and attacked people. It is not my proudest moment, but holy shit I can relate to this a lot. It makes me so good to see someone who's done shit like I've done who's trying to change.

3. Ace really did care about Levi and considered him a friend, which warmed and broke my heart at the same time. I really hope Ace finds another friend, because he deserves to feel some comfort and joy. I hope he learns about Levi's ASPD and realizes Levi has no malicious intent towards him. I find it nice that Ace did really trust and look up to Levi though, it proves him capable of friendship and deeper feelings that people usually overlook. Great complex character.

4. I was shocked that Levi sided with David, but honestly I do too. David is a good person, and we see that later in the ep where he doesn't tell Eden what Arei said.

5. J CALLED OUT HU??? UNEXPECTED. called her a stupid argument moderator. Interesting. I love you J, but watch it.

6. Veronika's secret isn't the worst thing she's ever done- interesting. I think it could be the thing she's the most ashamed of, but you never know. It really breaks my heart for Hu, and I hope we get a backstory on her soon.

I'm coming back after point 14 and adding this: these secrets don't seem to be any of the worst things they've ever done, nor relevant to the killing game (besides "Xander's"). These secrets are personal. I think they each have worse secrets but they are too related to the killing game so they couldn't give those out.

7. Excuse you, David. Freaky ass.

8. that is NOT Teruko's secret 😭😭😭

9. This is seriously rich coming from J, as she usually escalates the situation.

10. Eden's monologue broke my heart. I am so glad David lied to her at the end, or I think Eden's heart would've been broken. This just makes me so sad.

11. "That maybe there would be a world in which we would be friends." I'm sure there would be, since your fans have created worlds that you're dating her.

12. Arei needs to genuinely shut up. This is where I get very upset and irrational. I am so fucking mad at Arei for lying to Eden. For the rest of Eden's life she's going to be wondering what she could've done or if her friendship was enough. Why the fuck would you lie and say you believed you could change, only to come back and admit you know you can't. My heart breaks for Arei though, because I believe she could've changed. This especially makes me so upset because as a previously bad person who relates to Arei and tries to change, I feel like I'm going to give up hope to do so too. Obviously I gotta overpower and not let fiction effect my reality, but it really hurts.

13. Arei's worldview that nobody is a good person mirrors David's (though David excludes Xander). Makes me really sad. I can hope, but there's really no hope left.

14. Well we know who attacked Xander (what the actual fuck). I hope we learn how that ties in later. Eden's hidden quote, "you can never go back, no matter how hard you try." maybe it's referring to this incident instead of the situationship with her friends in the past.

15. Love this.

16. WE HAD A JRUKO MOMENT!!! So happy about this!!!

17. Why the actual fuck does Whit know so much about how that hanging mechanism would work. You're making yourself look so suspicious. High and low were highlighted, which was interesting.

18. Whit said this murder would've been hard if Arei wasn't a willing victim. If she was, this just makes this case even more tragic. She may have convinced herself to give up hope and cooperated with the killer, which pains me a lot. I think this was due to David's secret.

19. I love the carousel bit! And the banter between Arturo and Whit. They had banter last trial too, so that's a continuation. Maybe they'll have a confrontation in the future.

20. NICO FUCKED BRO

21. At this point my only logical conclusion of who I think the killer could be is J.

22. Everyone is bringing up Ace's friend- Taylor! It's seriously throwing me for a loop bc that's my name!

ENDING:

To clarify, I think it's sad that Arei believes she can't change and even started doubting Eden.

[volturiprincess]

Háblame De Ti

:tell me about you:

Demetri Volturi x Fem human reader

Summary: The way he looks at you when you talk A/N: This one was inspired by the song "Hablame de ti" by Banda MS. I connected two and two when I was driving to the beach and this song went on and I was like "Omg this is giving Demetri vibes, write it down Mj (me)". I swear this happens to me to often, ideas for one-shots just randomly come to mind and I quickly pull out "notes" on my phone if I'm not on my computer and later transfer that idea do my doc and write out a whole brainstorm or just start writing right away. Anyways......Enjoy💙 (Ps. I might or might of now of added my other fictional lovers on here🤭)

Word Count: 1k+

(What a lovely man. I love his little smile here🥰)

“Your not going to believe who Kelsey ended up with”

“Tell me”

I crossed my legs to get more comfy. Me and Demetri are in the outskirts of Volterra in a small clearing of grass that we go to when the weather is nice. With it already being  summer, and the sun beating down on us, Demetri’s gorgeous sparkle comes through. Oh how I can stare at him all day long and try to count every individual little diamond that seems to be on his face. To just admire his beauty and not be interrupted by others, to not have to worry about anything but him alone. His state right is laying on his stomach with his head resting on his head, and his feet basically kicked up, swaying side to side. He seems so relaxed and he’s giving me his undivided attention at the same time.

“She ended up with Ren”

“No way”

“Exactly, and poor Kishan was left behind, can you believe how devastated I was how he was just left behind in time. I so wanted to reach into the book and pull him out”

“And what would you do with him if that were possible”

“Well give him his happily ever after of course my man has suffered to much”

“Your man? What am I some side chick now?”

“Demetri you will always be my main, Kishan would be my side I guess”

“No I don't like that, no side chicks or whatever you just have me”

“Fine, so I can't even have Moony or Padfoot either?”

“Nope”

“What about Nanami, please let me at least have him”

“I'll think about it, but tell me more about what happened after they left Kishan”

I continued with my ramble of the book I finished. When I talk about books with him he lets me go off and does not interrupt unless he has a question. Even when I fear I have talked to much or I bored him, I look at him and he’s still looking at me with anticipation for me to continue 

Third Person

A thing that y/n didn't realize about Demetri was how he looks at her. When they are out in their spot at this time of the year, Demetri sees a whole new side of her. He just sits or lays there looking at her like she is the only breathing soul on this earth. If it were possible his pupils would form into little hearts because that is all he sees when he looks at her, hearts. He has the purest of adoration for her; if someone were to watch them for a distance, they would assume Demetri is under a love spell from how he watches her. He's so smitten with her it's almost as if it's too good to be true, it seems too much like a fairytale. And to them it does feel like it, their alone time is their little bubble of paradise. Just them against the world, no vampire or human in sight, even the animals seem to leave them alone. 

Demetri and y/n or y/n or Demetri, bounded for eternity, how it should be according to them. Just them two, even if currently one is immortal and another is mortal, they just click. The minute they meet, life just makes sense for them at that moment. When he moves, she moves, she wanders and he follows her around. Or he will gently guide her back to their initial journey since his lovely mate tends to get distracted with little things.

Oooo what a pretty flower, oh my what an interesting looking tree, how is that possible for it to bend like that? Demetri look a family of little bunnies, can I take them home?

Those are just superficial questions and thoughts she will have when she wanders but Demetri loves every little quirk she carries, even the one where sometimes she hides herself from him when he catches her moving with the wind. 

“You were not supposed to see that”

“Well i'm glad I did because now I can join you, care to share a dance cariño?” 

Demetri’s POV

What a beauty of a human she is. She’s a rare jewel that can never be dared to be duplicated or even have the audacity to be recreated. No one will even come close to being like her because she is one in a million. The way she can talk to me for hours without stopping warms my heart for it being she trusts me enough to say whatever is on her mind. Her voice, the voice of an angel indeed. How can someone like her even exist? I sometimes fear I'm in a dream with her, I just can never fully believe she is my mate. She was made for me, she’s everything I have ever wanted but at the same time something I never knew I needed. If I were to sketch out what I believe my mate would have looked like, it would have looked like her. 

I never pictured myself finding my mate in this lifetime or ever, but when she came into my life, I was enamored of the idea of her. All of the heartache I harbored within the past vanished to be replaced by an overwhelming feeling of devotion and infatuation dedicated just for her. 

I deeply value my alone time with her, it's our time to be with each other without any interruption or worry of some duty I need to do. Even if my mind is racing with a million thoughts revolving around her, I catch every single word that comes from her pretty little mouth. At last I think I might have gotten a bit too deep in my love for her because she is staring at me with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes?”

“I said why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Well your looking at me all weird”

“Can’t a vampire stare at his mate with love?”

And my oh my, that lovely blush of her’s starts to bloom on her lovely face. It saddens me to think what when the day comes for her to become like me, her blush will be no more. I will miss it but it excites me that we will officially have forever. 

Still blushing she responds with a small stutter “W-well you can, n-no judgment, but were you paying attention?”

“Of course my angel, you just said that Ren and Kelsey got married”

She nodded and proceeded to keep talking about the book. So adorable when she doubts me, I am always listening to her. There are times where she sleep talks sometimes and I manage to her say that she loves me so much. It gave me a warm feeling within to think she loves me as much as I love her, well actually I think I love her more. But why tell her that? When I have to be away from her due to missions or training, I am aching to be in her arms as soon as I leave. To be in her warm embrace, to have my face filled with her lips giving me multiple small kisses, to seeing her smile when she sees me. 

If only she knew the deep effect she has on me, I only mentioned slight things but soon enough she will know. If I were to tell her my deeper feelings, I don't think her mind would be able to comprehend it, my love for her is intense, so strong and raw. Sometimes it does scare me in how much I love her. 

Y/N POV

“I'm still mad about it, you know? Like you have no idea how much I cried”

“I know cariño, I was there wiping your tears away all night”

“That you were, I'm so lucky to have you my love”

“I know i'm just the best you know”

I slap his shoulder playfully at his exaggerated cockiness. He can be such a goofball sometimes and I love that about him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~``

Cariño: Dear

[livelaughlaw3]

Reconciliation through s*x

Prohibited under 18

TW : creampie, unprotected s*x, bl0w j*b, p*netr*tion, definitely smut, angst, sadness, fluffy end <3333

You are with Shanks in this story. (He has two arms because he's too smart to have lost his arm that way and Oda already said it was his editor who told him to tell that story.)

You argued a lot but for a few minutes at most. All this because of a woman who is a little more enterprising than the others who are used to gravitating around your man. She placed her hand on his forearm and placed a free drink on the table for him when he politely refused. You would have liked him to be much more vehement in his refusal.

After 10 minutes of arguing, everyone went their separate ways, ready to explode. You showered, got into bed and covered yourself. You knew you were in the wrong and you knew you said things you didn't mean. You realize that you must have hurt him a lot. As he has been very busy lately, all of this has affected your confidence in yourself and in him. You shed a few tears but can't sleep. You lay on your side, facing the wall, arms curled up against your chest.

After an hour, you hear a knock on his bedroom door. “It’s Shanks, can I please come in ?..” You sigh, his caution and maturity making you feel even worse. “Yes..”, he inhales and opens the door slowly. He glances at you, you look so weak and vulnerable. He curses himself internally, feeling that your voice is broken, because of the tears you must have shed. You sit and look at him, like a five year old would look at him, and hold your arms out towards him. Desperate to reconcile with your man, you absolutely want a hug. “Please..”, his heart skips a beat hearing you beg him. He walks up to you, on autopilot. He's desperate to hold you too, even though he doesn't think he deserves you or your affection. A lot of emotions run through him, desire, guilt, love, regret. He sits on the bed, at your feet. Your arms are still in the air, in endless waiting. He wants the same thing as you but not before apologizing and explaining. Except that he knows full well that you want physical contact and affection first, then explanations. You know him like the back of your hand, you pull off the blanket, climb into his lap, hug him tight as you burst into tears. He helps you and holds you tightly then rubs your back to calm you down as he hugs you too. "I love you !!! I can not live without you !!! I'm sorry for everything !!! I never wanted to argue or make you suffer!!! I beg your pardon !!!" You cry on his shoulder, he hugs you.

He can’t hold back and kisses your cheek then moves down to your neck quickly. He wants to mark you to make sure everyone knows you belong to him. You’re still shaking and crying in his arms but it’s replaced by your soft moans. He loves the fact that you respond to his lips like this but hates himself for causing you so much pain. He leaves a trail of kisses and bites on the skin of your neck. You ask him “Can we make love now ? I'm sorry and I know I shouldn't ask this right now. But I want to… I want to show you how much I love you and I need you.” He lets out an almost feral growl when he hears you speak.

You remove his belt, he holds you close and kisses you passionately. His hands wander over your body, going under your clothes. He stops for a moment to catch his breath “I can’t resist you..”. You are still saddened but answer him “I love you.. I need you..” He smiles at you “I love you too. I would be gentle. Will you tell me if I hurt you ?” You nod, needy. His lips trail down your neck as he guides you onto the bed. His weight pins you to the bed, your body beneath his. His desire for you grows by the second. “I would do anything to make up.” You smile “Be gentle.. but also.. a little rough.” He bites your neck again “I’ll give you everything you need, I promise baby.” You kiss him again, pushing your body against his, your hips against the growing bulge in his pants. He lets out a heavy moan as his tongue enters your mouth.

You take off his pants and boxers and unbutton his shirt as he continues to pepper your body with kisses. He whispers to you “I don’t deserve you.. But you are everything to me, you know that right ?” You smile at him, he kisses you again “I know I screwed up and hurt you. But I love you more than anything in the world.” You nod, crying but smiling, through the kiss. He wipes away your tears, continuing to kiss you. You remove your dress, leaving your naked body exposed. “You’re so beautiful..” You guide him towards your entrance, his breath catching in his throat for a second. “Are you sure, sweetheart ?” You nod and kiss him. He smiled “Whatever you want, my love.” He tries to control himself and pushes slowly and carefully inside you. He moves gently to stay soft as he feels surrounded perfectly. “I feel so good, angel.” You spread your legs for better access “Keep going Shanks..” He smiled, his pupils growing as he looked at you. His lips resume their bites on your neck. “I will, I will give you everything you ask for, love.” You smile “Faster, deeper Shanks..” He obeys you, his pace quickening “Like that ?” and his body moving with relentless roughness. You nod, he smiles “You take everything I give you, fine, my moon. You want everything I have and I'll give it all to you. It feels good ?" You nod, your eyes rolling back sometimes.

He continues his rapid pace and works to go as far as possible, sinking completely until your pelvises are almost glued together. Both of you begin to see the stars and a piece of Heaven, with each thrust. You moan continuously, he loses himself completely inside you. He moans and breathes heavily “Take it all baby, there you go, you’re close.” He feels you pulse and tighten around him. He feels your water release as you reach your climax. He feels himself filling you deeply, his body shaking with pleasure and need. “You’re amazing doll, you always take me so well.” You hug him to make him lie on your body. He groans as he feels himself getting harder against your thighs. Your breaths are labored and your two chests beat against each other.

“Again ?”, he laughs “Yes my love, are you ready ?” You nod, needy. He stands up, groaning as he sees you naked in front of him. He grabs your hips, looking into your eyes “Hang on, angel, I’m going to give you what you want. I’m going to give you every inch of me, you’ll feel me for days.” You kiss him, pulling him close to you. You feel him entering you, deeper and faster. “That’s it honey, moan for me. Let me hear how good I am doing you. I just started with you.” You moan a lot and louder, making him reach his orgasm, much faster than he ever imagined and faster than you. Two more deep thrusts and you feel his hot cum inside you. He stops, disappointed in himself, looking at you. “God, I'm sorry sweetie, I didn't mean to.. I can do better, I promise.. Just let me try.. please..”

You smile at him and hold his face in your hands, your palms caressing his cheeks and your fingers playing with the strands of his hair that fall in his face. “It’s nothing, little heart, it’s very flattering. You love me too much to hold on for long. I love you." He feels his cheeks blush with affection “B-But.. I wanted to make you feel good..” You smile “Baby.. you’re adorable. You gave me enough tonight. You’re everything I need and want.” He suddenly feels relieved.

You sit back down “Let me do it now, it’s my turn.” He raises an eyebrow, perplexed. “Let you do what, baby girl ?” You laugh “You gave me a lot tonight, Daddy.. and you ?” You have him sit on the bed then lie on his back, placing the pillows comfortably behind him. Surprised and a little embarrassed as you kneel between his legs. “You don’t have to..” He doesn’t have time to finish his sentence as he sees and feels your mouth already at work. He moans loudly but already feels overstimulated. “Doll.. I'm already too sensitive..” But he feels you going even faster, the pleasure coursing through his body makes him tremble and shiver “G-Gently.. Honey.. I'm already.. sensitive..” He now feels the wet warmth of your tongue and your response “You can take it Daddy.” He stammers “I.. I can, I’m already close..” You continue your magic and he sees your saliva forming bubbles around it. The sensation bringing him closer and closer to the peak. “Ohh.. God.. O-Oh.. God.. F-f-f-f..” You give one last thrust with your mouth as the pleasure washes over him. “Aaaaah.. Haaaaaa..”, you help him with your hand to ride out his orgasm. “Mmmmfff.. oh.. f-f..”, you see him laboriously trying to catch his breath as his body shakes all over.

To tease him, you only touch the tip with your fingers. But he already feels too stimulated with his different previous orgasms “Ooh.. N-n-not so much..” He sees you resume your magic with your mouth, taking him deep. “Ooooh.. I’m so sen-mmmf.. s-sensitive, baby..” He holds back, still shaking, dropping his head onto the pillow behind him. “F-fuck.. sweetheart.. You feel so damn good.. I’m close !” You continue to moan to help him with one last turn of your tongue, powerful and hot, he reaches yet another orgasm. The sensation is close to a drug, his body trembles all over. You lay on top of him, covering him with your body and kissing his collarbone to help him. He holds you close and tries to regain normal breathing. You tease him “Somebody’s extra clingy today !” He laughs, you regain your seriousness “Do you forgive me ?” He nods “Of course my princess. Of course. I love you."

You fall asleep against each other, using only your dress to dry and cover yourselves. The next day he was all lovey-dovey.

Enjoy - Do not copy or repost anywhere. Republish of course if you like it. I made edits on Tiktok too if you want to check 🫶🏻🫶🏻

[doppel-doodles]

Turns out I actually have so many ideas for grown up Timmy Oml-

No doodles of the ideas yet I am just trying to get out the brainworms and thoughts, if I actually have something I’ll make a part two for this-

In the meantime have a regular Timmy doodle and for those interested some ramblings below:

Concept 1

Comic artist

Timmy always read to me as a really creative kid with a very rich imagination not to mention his love for comics like the crimson chin.

Also be for real, cleft the boy chin wonder was basically baby’s first self insert oc.

So I really like the idea of a future where Timmy got to make his own comics, maybe he works on a reboot of the crimson chin comics orrrrr he is retelling his own childhood adventures from when he had fairies without ever considering that it wasn’t just his imagination but reality.

Heck maybe making a crimson chin fan comic is what’s jumpstarted his career so that later he gained opportunities and made his own series?

Also in this idea I can say proudly: “bro is just like me fr fr.”/j

Like any artist and writer he suffers creatively twice.

He is a chronic procrastinator and there are two reasons he is able to keep any of his deadlines:

They are called coffee and redbull.

He has passion, he has fun but god damn his work ethic is just about the worst example he could give his kids which is exactly why he doesn’t LIKE letting them see him work.

He is unorganised and constantly suffering from art block,writers block- bro is basically just in a creative burn out 24/7.

In a new fish he could maybe pop in via holding a meet and greet, signing copy of his works and the likes. Hazel and or dev could be fans of his work and thus shenanigans happen.

Concept 2

Child care

Okay this one comes with a bit of backstory: Basically once Timmy got old enough he actually started his own babysitting service, perhaps even together with his friends.

The main reason was of course Vicky.

He could steal away her jobs so she couldn’t traumatise more children by being so,SO icky.

But that’s when he also learned he kinda really liked looking after those little rascals.

Especially babies and toddlers, something about them just set off this warm and fuzzy feeling of familiarity within him.

So as a grown up he would make looking after them his whole career, I haven’t really settled in what way though.

He could be like a nanny for hire, or maybe even a daycare attendant running his own place.

I like to think there are a few moments where he would subconsciously act kinda like Wanda and or Cosmo while looking after these kids but with his own spin of course.

He is pretty witty and was a well known troublemaker in his youth so he knows just about every trick a kid can pull and isn’t opposed by teaching them a lesson by making their schemes backfire horribly.

No harm done except for a temporary wound on the child’s pride perhaps. But then again he is so fun during playtime how can any kid stay mad?

And if he is a nanny for hire: who knows maybe Dev is in need of supervision sometime soon?:>

Sub concept

Child counsellor

Kinda similar to the backstory of the previous idea simply this time Timmy decided to focus on kids who may be a little more troubled due to outside factors like he was.

Because he can SWEAR that back then there was someone who was there for him in a similar he now is for these kids and even if he can’t remember it anymore.

You can bet that there is nothing stopping him from being a safe adult for them to come to.

Concept 3

Fairy

Probably one of the most popular I’ve seen and I gotta be honest it’s a lot of fun to think about, but because so many ideas were already out there I did have a hard time coming up with something that wasn’t just a repeat of someone elses idea’s.

But I think in the end what I settled on is a fun concept:

Remember that episode where we see that unwished wishes get put into a kinda storage unit? And how Timmy made so many wishes his locker was basically about to burst?

I think it would be pretty fun if his duty as a fairy would be to basically reorganise these kinds of lockers and instead of storing wishes somewhere else Timmy has to find a use for them somewhere else.

It’s also kinda funny because I imagine Jorgan did kinda intend this to be a “Got’cha!” Moment, as let’s be real most of these wishes WERE HIS.

But jokes on him Timmy actually likes this job-