#so going to make the most of it however i can

[moonlitwitchdaisy]

fashion photographer!gojo part 1

paris fashion week was as exhausting as it was exhilarating for you.

trying to make it to three shows in a day, squeezing in castings in between, attending countless parties, and meeting new people made you feel like you were truly living life to the fullest.

especially that arrogant and handsome photographer… he never missed an opportunity to invade your packed schedule and fill it with himself.

after the shoot with fashion photographer!gojo in paris, you had ended up in his massive hotel suite and lost count of how many times you fucked. not a single corner of that hotel room was left untouched.

of course, that wasn’t enough for him. whether you had free time or not didn’t matter—there wasn’t a single moment he wasn’t stuffing his cock into your pussy, either before a show, in the car rushing to the next one, or even at the after-parties.

“models for the runway, please gather near the photographers’ area backstage,” the backstage coordinator’s shout made your fingers tighten even more in gojo’s hair.

“gojo… i need to go, ple-nghhh please stop,” you whimpered as gojo harshly sucked on your clit, pulling yet another moan from your lips.

right now, you were in a spot a little away from the backstage area, somewhere you didn’t know how gojo had found, and where no one else was around. he was among the guests invited to the show and would be watching from the front row. the moment he arrived backstage, people flocked to him, showering him with attention and making him the center of it all. but gojo wasn’t there to mingle or admire the new collection.

you knew exactly what he wanted.

gojo lifted his head from between your legs, his lips glistening and his face slick with your juices, looked up at you. “how many times do i have to tell you to call me satoru?”

“fuck off, satoru, i need to go.”

“and i don’t want you to go,” he replied, sliding his fingers along your drenched folds, making you gasp. “besides, i think you don’t want to leave right now either. please, baby, let me help relieve your stress, hm?”

the show you were about to walk in was the most anticipated event of fashion week. your legs were trembling with nervous excitement, and you were terrified you might stumble and fall on the runway. gojo, however, had promised to help you turn that around, and now here you were, pressed against a wall in some hidden room, letting one of the most prominent figures in the fashion world eat your pussy.

your grip on his snowy white hair loosened slightly. “i don’t want to embarrass myself.”

gojo pressed a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh before looking back up at you. “you won’t. remember, if you’ve proven to me how amazing a model you can be, everyone else already knows how good you are.”

arrogant bastard. even in a sentence meant to reassure you, he managed to stroke his own ego.

“instead of using your mouth to praise yourself, use it to make me cum. wasn’t that what you wanted, to help me relieve my stress?” you smirked.

gojo seemed to enjoy your bold words because he wasted no time responding. “whatever my favorite model wants.” and with that, he got right back to work.

as his two fingers pumped into you, his tongue kept pace, swirling over your clit. his tongue was relentless, flicking and drawing circles on that sensitive little spot, making your eyes flutter shut.

“so good, keep going,” you tilted your head back, moaning and craving more.

gojo curled his fingers, finding your g-spot, while his tongue drew intricate shapes on your swollen bud. as if that wasn’t enough, he sucked your clit into his mouth, his lips relentless.

“fuck, fuck…” your legs shook, and your hands gripped his hair with a strength you didn’t know you had.

gojo briefly pulled his lips away from your dripping clit with a lewd pop, his fingers still working inside you. “you’re so fucking beautiful. this pussy was made for me. god, it’s trembling around my fingers just like your legs.” he growled before diving back in, sucking harder.

“i love—i love when you touch me. you make me feel so fucking good.” it was true. every touch of his made you feel like a goddess. people weren’t wrong when they said satoru gojo had a talent for elevating others.

whether it was through his photos, his mouth, or his cock.

gojo released your clit again, though his fingers never faltered. he whispered into your dripping pussy, “because you are perfect, my muse.” then he sped up his fingers and brought his mouth back to your clit, sucking with a fervor that had you seeing stars.

his nose brushed against you as he worked, and the sensation sent a deep moan ripping from your throat. you didn’t care if anyone outside heard the mix of moans and cries spilling from your mouth. right now, all you cared about was finding relief before the big show.

“goj-satoru shit, my legs are t-trembling,” you stammered, pressing his face closer, signaling how close you were. the only thing shaking more than your legs was your voice as his relentless mouth and fingers drove you to the edge.

“cum, baby. soak my face, cover me in your sweetness. fuck, you taste so good.”

as he growled those words into your pussy, your trembling turned into spasms, and you shut your eyes. the orgasm spread through your body, yet gojo’s fingers didn’t stop. as you grew more sensitive, you begged him to stop. at first, he didn’t listen and kept going, but eventually, the movements of his fingers slowed down. finally, he stopped and slowly withdrew his fingers, now coated in your sticky juices.

“let me clean you up,” he murmured, licking the juices that had trickled down your thighs. “can’t have you going on the runway like this, right?” his tongue lapped at your thighs as he peppered soft kisses along your skin.

“you’re insane, satoru gojo,” you muttered, your hand brushing against the nape of his neck—his favorite spot to be touched.

he pressed one last kiss to your sensitive pussy before standing up. he fixed the designer skirt that had ridden up your waist, then leaned down to capture your lips with his still-wet ones. “you look relaxed now. when you walk the runway, remember this—I’ll only be watching you.” he pulled back, smoothing his hair before heading for the door. just as he reached it, he turned around. “oh, and after the show, come to the back entrance. my car will be waiting. sorry you’ll miss the after-party, but trust me, i’ll make up for it in the car and the room later.”

once he left, you couldn’t help but laugh to yourself. with all the stress drained from your body, you were finally ready for the show. a few minutes later, you emerged from the room, ignoring the frantic chatter of people saying they’d been looking for you everywhere. “i just needed to relax,” you said, brushing past their confused faces and taking your place in the lineup.

after the show ended, you quickly changed, bid everyone goodbye with a rushed excuse about missing the after-party, and headed to the back entrance. opening the door of the sleek black car, you found that cocky, talented photographer sitting there in his cream-colored suit and vintage sunglasses. without saying a word, you climbed into the car and sat beside him.

you said nothing, just looked straight ahead. but you knew he had that smug grin on his face.

just before the car started moving, gojo pressed a button, and the black partition separating the front and back began to rise. you turned to look at him, and before he could say anything, you climbed into his lap, tossing his sunglasses aside and crashing your lips against his.

fashion photographer!gojo may have made you miss the after-party, but he made sure to give you the best one in the car and the hotel room. again. and again.

all rights belong to the @moonlitwitchdaisy do not copy, reproduce, or translate my work.

[stealth-science]

No. Most teachers can ready messy handwriting. I have messy handwriting.

The problem is, and honestly I did not explicitly emphasize this, not having or taking enough time to write. It goes both directions.

Some teachers do not allow enough time to write essays. Students know they don’t have enough time to write the essays and then rush through, which will make their handwriting worse. This is obviously a fault of the teacher. I don’t think a student should be penalized for bad handwriting in these situations.

However, I have consistently observed when I give plenty of time, days even, to write an essay my students will 1- procrastinate and then be forced to write really quickly at the end of the allotted time or 2- write really quickly at the beginning so that they can have more “free time”.

This would be the situation where I would suggest that, yes, if you write an essay that I cannot read because you rushed through it, it could affect your grade.

I typically scan through all of my students work before I let them leave my desk. And if I can’t read something or don’t know what they’re saying I’ll point it out to them before they walk away. Usually they’re happy to correct something so that they know they’re getting all of the credit they deserve.

And of course this doesn’t touch on students with IEP’s or 504’s. But each case needs individual accommodations that I literally can’t go through every situation for. 

I’m sorry I didn’t elaborate more.

An ex-colleague of mine was complaining to me the other day about the ai problem in her students' papers, and I told her, "Just make your students hand-write them in class. Easy." She looked at me like I was insane and tried to explain how that would never work, but I just said,"That's how we did it for a thousand years. The invention of word processors doesn't erase all that."

To me it seems obvious. Readings are done out of class, handwritten essays are done within it. No more ai papers.

[ebsmind]

THREE POINTS | nico hischier x fem!reader

summary : after the devils have finally had enough with their losing streak, you make a bet with nico, however many game points he gets against the bruins is how many times you get to cum. good thing nico was determined.

word count : 1.8k

warning(s) : 18+ MDNI, smut, oral sex (f!receiving), dirty talk (kind of? idk), dom!nico, this is also not proofread and that’s it i think!

a/n : i started writing this at midnight and i wanted to do it in one sitting but i was TIRED so i finished it when i woke up. i hope this is good bc this is my 3rd time writing smut and i for once actually TRIED and went into writing this confidently. ALSO i got the idea right after they won the game against the bruins so i just had to bless yall with something 😋 OKAY BYE ILY ENJOY!!!

The waning crescent’s luminous hue reflects upon New Jersey City. The street’s usual busy nature has died down. There's still half an hour left of the day. Most people have gone to bed, ready to start another Thursday. Thank God it’s nearly Friday, but the day hasn’t ended for you. 

Waiting for Nico to return home from a game always took an hour and a half. No less, nor more. So, when Nico pushes the front door to your shared apartment at a striking 11:37, knowing him he checked the mail, it leaves you to no surprise. The overview from the living room gives you a perfect view of the front door. You watch his every move from the sofa, the tailored cushions sit softly upon your skin. He closes the front door and locks it, a loud ‘click’ goes off to confirm that the lock is in place. The mail is the first thing to be tossed, it hits the counter with a soft ‘smack’, and next goes his keys, which were pulled from the left pocket of his trousers. With a sigh, Nico’s left hand runs over his face and once it reaches his chin, he looks forward and makes eye contact with you. 

“Hi, baby.” His accent is still prominent when he speaks, but you find it adorable. He starts walking towards in your direction, you toss the beige linen blanket off of your lap and rise from the couch in response. You take a total of 2 steps before Nico reaches you. Your arms find their place upon Nico’s shoulders almost immediately. His, upon your waist. A whiff of soft vanilla musk hits your nostrils, Nico took a shower at the arena rather than at home. 

“Congrats on the win, my love.” A soft smile forms upon your face. The win was a long time coming, Nico had been working his ass off the past week and it paid off tonight at the Prudential Center. 

“How many points, Schatz?” As Nico questions you, you attempt to break away from the hug but to no avail, Nico’s hands don’t plan on leaving your waist anytime soon. 

“Three, three points.” Your response leaves your mouth almost immediately.  You know where this was going, as promised before he left for the game against the Boston Bruins.

While Nico was picking out his suit for the arrival of today’s game, a quick thought appeared in your head. You stalk quietly behind him, he’s deciding between a classic black suit and a darker red, almost burgundy, tailored suit. Nico can feel your presence behind him, and he turns to face you. 

“I think the black one, no?” As he questions you, his right-hand raises. He’s holding a black tie, and in the other hand is a tie that matches the burgundy suit. You take a second before you give your input. The black suit was a classic but had already been worn, the burgundy has yet to be worn. It’s fairly new, Nico got it back in November but wanted to wait for the right moment to wear it. 

“Black but no tie, you’re going to take it off before you even get to the arena." Nico takes no time to face back in his original direction, taking the black suit that's draped on a wire curtain and returning to the bedroom. You follow suit, watching Nico place the suit on the bed. A soft 'thud' rings in the air when the suit hits the white linen comforter. Before Nico can take a step to head over to the dresser that sits just under the 55-inch flat Roku TV to put away his ties you cut him off with a question.

"Can we make a bet?" Nico reaches the dresser and pulls the drawer open, as he folds the ties he answers your question.

"What kind of bet, Schatz?"

You take a small breath before telling Nico the thought that had crossed your mind nearly minutes ago. "If you score or get any assists, you get to make me cum as how many times you do."

To your dismay, Nico isn't appalled by your suggestion, in fact, he almost challenges you.

"What do I get if I don't?" He's facing you now, hand resting against his hip. A smirk is spread across his lips, he's amused by your proposition. You pause since you didn't even get to think about what would happen if he didn't get any game points.

"I get to finally tie you up." You return his amusable smirk, two can play this game.

"I think we have a deal baby."

The soft squeeze against your hips brings you back from the semi-distance memory. You tilt your head up and look into Nico's dark chocolate-pooled irises, his face written in desire. Before you can form a proper thought, Nico's head tilts into your own and his lips are set against yours. The kiss is soft but as his lips entangle with yours it grows with need. His right hand surfaces up from your hip to cradle your jaw, keeping you in place. Nico deepens the kiss by swiping his tongue into your mouth, as much as you try to fight for it, he won’t let you win. He’s finishing something you started, determination is all that Nico is running off of. You run your left hand up his neck and rest it once your fingertips feel a light fuzz. Deciding to wait to play with the hair on the back of his neck, you’ll drive him crazy later. 

At the speed of a lightning strike, Nico picks you up by the waist with one arm, the other previously on your jaw, and finds its place against the back of your thigh. The skin exposed from the small floral shorts that Nico plans to discard later. Nico maneuvers the pair for you to the dining room and places you on top of the cool walnut-colored dining table. His lips finally escape yours, instantly finding themselves on your collarbone in record time. Nico places small kisses upwards on your neck and once they reach a spot they are all too familiar with, his teeth sink into the soft skin. A soft gasp leaves your mouth but then is conceded by a moan when Nico soothes the small ache by running his tongue over the semi-red spot. The sound released from the back of your throat goes straight down into Nico’s slacks. Your grip tightens against the back of Nico’s neck, never wanting him to stop. 

Nico quickly detaches himself from your neck to pull off the oversized New Jersey Devils crewneck that you wore. He takes a look at your chest and notices the lacy fabric that hugs the swell of your breasts. The 6’1 hockey player lowers himself to where his lips rest right above your ear and whispers, "You drive me fucking crazy, Schatz."

A blush forms across your cheeks as a response to Nico’s statement. Nico has finally had enough and decided to finally put himself useful to his bargain of the bet. He kneels in front of you, eyes connecting with your clothed core. A small wet spot appears on the floral-printed cotton shorts that rest against your hips. His hands come up from his lap and head towards the waistband of your shorts, he grunts to signify for you to lift your hips. Your hands help you steady yourself against the wooden table when you lift your hips so Nico can discard the main article of clothing you have on. Once Nico tosses your shorts and panties aside, he gets a hold of your right leg and lifts it to place it against his shoulder. Before he continues, Nico looks up at you, eyes connecting once again. You take notice how Nico’s pupils look inflamed, filled with lust.

Nico takes hold of the leg that's perched up against his shoulder and slowly starts to kiss his way up your leg. Starting at the base of your ankle to your inner thigh, never breaking eye contact. It’s crazy to think how Nico knows how to get you so hot and bothered quickly but you weren’t one to complain. Especially seeing him on his knees getting ready to devour you. 

Before Nico digs in for his midnight snack, he brings his hands to rest on your waist once again. He guides you to sit at the edge of the table. He finally has full access to your sweeping wet core and without a second left to spare, his mouth makes contact with your folds. He licks a stripe from your core to your clit. Your head tilts back and a low moan escapes your body like a prayer, as if Nico is the god you praise upon. 

Your right hand leaves its place against the table and immediately finds a refugee in Nico’s damp hair. Your fingers run through his rich deep brown locks, encouraging Nico to take a step further. Your hips buck closer to Nico’s mouth when he inserts his ring and middle finger into your mound. The pornographic moans that form from the soul of your chest are a symphony to Nico’s ears. Your hips start to grind into Nico’s mouth, he knows you're close. 

“Look at me, baby.” He pulls away from your clit, his fingers never leaving your mound. You obey, like a good girl. Nico’s tongue finds itself back onto your clit, in response a soft whimper leaves your mouth. The more Nico indulges into your mound, the more you can feel yourself falling apart. Your gummy walls start to contract and Nico knows you need one final push to get yourself on the leaderboard. With one final flick against your clit and stroke into your core, you come undone. Your body convulses, eyes flutter closed, and all you see is black. 

After a couple of seconds, you’re brought back to earth. Nico stands, towering over you, he’s licking his fingers clean of your juices. Once his ring and middle finger leave his mouth, he uses that hand to bring up a chair. It screeches against the tile of the floor. Before Nico sits on the chair, he removes his trousers. Carefully placing them on top of the dining room table. Once the chair is positioned right in front of you, he sits. His legs spread open, his hard length pressed against the soft fabric of his black boxer briefs. You still have yet to move from your spot on the edge of the table, legs still feeling like jelly after an earth-shattering orgasm. Nico opens his mouth to command one thing. 

“Come on, Schatz,” he pats his thigh, “You still have two more to go.” 

[championari]

So I’m constantly thinking about Charles and how he could eventually meet Edwin with his feelings.

Here’s something I realized: Charles, despite constantly talking about things he miss, things he wants, he actually has a complicated relationship with desire as a concept.

How I would put it is by taking Supernatural as an example. There’s an episode in Season 5 where the boys meet Famine, a horseman of the apocalypse. However, Dean is not at all affected by him. It’s because due to being the older brother, and a Hunter, Dean was never allowed to consider acting on or even having desire for anything.

You can see where I’m going with this. Charles, like Dean, doesn’t actually believe he should want anything, due to “not being good enough”.

This is something actually touched on subtly in the show through the acting. When Niko says, “I know what it’s like to want something you can’t have.” Edwin directly looks at The Cat King’s bracelet, while Charles stares off into space. When Tragic Mick describes Angie’s light as enforcing a sense of yearning, Edwin looks at Charles, while again, Charles looks off blankly (can’t access screenshots right now). Edwin knows what he wants but is scared of it, while Charles doesn’t know what he wants because he can’t allow himself to consider it. This gives an entirely new meaning to Charles’ hatred of the Cat King. A supernatural entity who describes his kingdom as being about “want and pleasure”. Thomas is the encapsulation of everything Charles was never allowed to have. Charles chases after things that he knows he can’t have, romancing a living girl despite knowing she will eventually leave. Charles can’t consider returning Edwin’s feelings because that would mean he’s been running away from what’s been in front of him the whole time. That what he wanted was always there, at his lowest point, when he thought he deserved it least.

Returning Edwin’s feelings means he was already enough. And Charles can’t imagine that yet.

While I would obviously adore an interaction between Charles and Desire of The Endless, ultimately I don’t think it would do anything. Like Dean, Charles might be completely unaffected by them because he’s spent most of his existence building walls around his desires. Edwin was completely blindsided by Thomas because he never even considered having to think about Desire due to having no attraction to women and that being the dominant narrative of his time. Charles pursues Crystal because he still wants to feel like he has a chance at “normal life” (which as I said is self-punishment by throwing himself at something he knows he can’t have). To accept that he’s in love with Edwin would mean no longer pursuing a living person. Edwin would be it for him, which he kind of already gets but it hasn’t fully sunk in yet. Just like his death

There's also this exchange that drives me nuts:

"You gave up tranquil eternity…for your friend?" "Does that sound like someone who belongs in Hell?"

THIS. MAKES. ME. INSANE. Because Charles, like he always does when confronted with his own wants, completely avoids it. He doesn't respond to The Night Nurse's obvious confusion as to why he ran from Death, and instead turns the conversation back to Edwin. He makes it all about what Edwin deserves, not what Charles saw in Edwin that led him to make that choice. You could say this is practical as time is of the essence, but I think that's the point. Charles throws away the chance to explain his viewpoint on their first meeting, the consequences of his choice to run from Death with a boy he just met and knew for a few hours, and instead remains single-minded on Edwin's safety. Like when Edwin reasonably questioned, "Why are you getting angry?" when he began freaking out over Thomas getting close to Edwin, he says nothing.

There's just so much happening in that head that I can't stop thinking about.

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

Ignored | Salesman x Wife!Reader

Summary: He knows his work can take much of his time. But the worse punishment its being ignored by you.

Warnings: Possessive!Salesman - Angry!Salesman - Violent!Salesman - Sad!Salesman - Manipulation - Toxic!Relationship - Suggestive - Grammar mistakes -

It was true. He had started to leave earlier and came home late. He was tensed, tired and angry. Everytime he had to face these excuse of humans made his blood boild.

But he was good, too good at it. And the money he got from it was a big amount. Enough to give you, his dear wife the life you have always deserve.

Splendind nights out, visists to the most precious places, fashion clothes and precious little details (expensive ones). He loved to pampper you in them. He could not help himself but pull his card out the moment he saw you looking at something. It was a reflex, even when you tell him that its not necesary he still insists.

If you want a private Island then he would do his job three times or even more times better.

You ask and he does. Thats how it works. The only thing he expects from you its to be at home when he comes. To get him with a delicious dinner, your soft voice making the stress go away. You would make him lay down on your lap as you play with his hair and tell him sweet nothings. Its almost unfair how much of a effect you have on him.

However, this past days these things have not been happening. Did food wait for him when he returned ? Yes. Where you there with open arms to ease him ? No.

It had started slow, you giving him simple responses when he talked to you. Mornings when you would say you were too tired leaving him to not really enjoy the shower missing your body against his. Not responding his messages or calls (He almost killed the next person he had to recruit when your voice email sounded back).

And at home you would give him the cold shoulder. Your attention on a book (that he got you and now he wants to burn) or your phone (that he hacks and sees what you are doing).

Honestly he is started to get tired of this. He has lots of patience with you. He loves you, in a insane way. But he cant help but feel...bad. The feeling makes him want to vomit because how the object of his love and adoration, the one he crafted and made a live with just...ignores him?

Yes he knows he can be difficult at times. He tries his best so you only see his good part. But this is ridiculous, no one would dare to disrespect him like that.

There is a centrain charm on your way of going against him. But he does not like it. He prefers the doting wife. The one who showers with love and affection. Not...this.

"We need to talk" Are his words on friday night after a long day recruiting and a cold and lonely shower.

He is quiet angry.

"Im reading" You said back not bothering to look up from your book.

Alright, now he is pissed.

He takes some steps towards you, his taller frame casting a shadow over you as he takes the book from you rather harshly.

"We need to talk, and we will" He says in a cold tone, making sure to mark the page you were reading before taking your arm and pulling you towards the bedroom.

The light blue walls and the big bed welcomes you as he throws you on the bed. Under other circunstances this would mean a good time, but with the look he is giving you right now, its not. Its a look you have never seen before, a look that sends shivers down your spine as he closes the door with a click and starts to walk around. Arms crossed as he fakes to think.

"What?" You ask seeing him go to the wardrobe and for the safebox pulling out a smaller box. He pulled out  a syringe  and a bottle with some transparent liquid.

"Dear...you are scaring me"

"Scaring you?" He asked with a smile that did not reach his eyes. "My Love, you should never be scared of me. I just want to talk" He did answer once more getting closer to her syringe  in hand.

"Then for what is that-"

"Because I need to understand Love. I need to understand whats going on with you" He says anger in his tone. "You have been ignoring me for the past few weeks. Me, the Man of your life. Who gives your the world and does everytning so you dont have to lift a single finger"

One hand traces your face doing down to your neck giving it a grip.

"I work so hard, for you. I just ask for you attention. But you cant even give me that" He says pushing you down on the bed the syringe  now close to your neck.

"Is there someone else ? Have you lost your love for me ? Im not enough now ?" He ask the syringe  inches from your skin.

"N-no, please let me explain" You said tears falling

He does not move but gives a small nod so you can talk

"I...I was stupid. I started to feel like your work was more important. You have always be with me. You make time for me and we pass our days together. And then you...you start to leave earlier and be home late. You...you look different every time you get back. I thought..that if I did not give you my attention you would stop. But I never saw how much I was hurting you"

He does not move for a few seconds letting the words sink in. Then he leaves the syringe  on the nightstand. He cleans off your tears kissing them.

"Oh my dear sweet wife. How could you be so dumb? My work would never be more important than you" He makes you sit on his lap as he moves you like a small creature.

"I have been under so much stress...and so much work. Im sorry I should have tell you. Last thing i wanted was to get ignored by you and hurt you. Not that I would ever do it"

Well, if you were seeing another men or women then yes. He would hurt you so much. You would be calling his name and only his. Never daring to think on going behind his back.

Much like right now. He is sure you would never ever again ignore him. Not after that scared he gave you. He still feels you trembling in his arms and its almost arousing to him.

Fear. Such a primal feeling. He loved being the one behind it. The face that was associated with the word.

"Shh my love. Its ok, we are ok. You wont ignore me again and now you know there is nothing more important than you" He whispers biting your ear.

"That syringe..."

He laughts, a well faked one.

"Do you really think I would ever hurt you my Love?" Yes, yes he would. If it did mean you staying with him and obeying him. "That was a bad joke on my side. My apologizes" He gives you a big kiss on your cheeck. "Lets order some food, we can watch a movie too and call it a night"

He sees you nod but before you can move he holds you in place one finger pointing at his lips.

You kiss him, not giving him much pressure but he is not letting you go that easy. He forces his tongue inside your mouth, tangles it with yours, his hips moves making you feel him growing hard under you. One hand presses your neck guiding your face as he leaves your lips and trails kisses down your neck and collarbone.

"Im almost temped to dich food and just have you" His tone is dark, possessive as he kisses you once more. "But I know you must be starving so we can save that for later"

You wont ever know that syringe did have a powerfull sleep drug...to make you unable to escape him if that was your plan.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

How He feels. VS. How He acts.

[horseimagebarn]

i hate the horse hate people are so mean to them when half of this is false and the other half is misinterpreted to make horses look bad

punctuation and capitalization GO

Horses are not omnivorous and while they can eat meat this does not mean they should or that it is good for them. Anything is edible once

Horses have been changed wildly due to domestication and used to be much hardier smaller and stockier and more similar to ponies, which was much better for their natural environments. HUMANS gave them longer legs, larger bodies, etc. so a lot of their perceived health problems are because of human interference. I wrote an essay on horse evolution before that covers this a little more

Also horses' legs CAN support their weight. If they couldn't, they would just. Not be standing up. Ever. Or be able to run. Ever. Anyone who has ever been kicked by a horse knows their legs aren't weak. @lgbtlunaverse pointed out in the notes that the "problem" with horse legs isn't that they break often, but that when they do break, they're more likely to shatter instead of a clean break, which makes leg injuries much harder to heal and much more likely to be fatal, especially with how much horses rely on their legs for every part of their lives.

Rodents also need their teeth growth managed and we don't call them freaks of nature for it. Horses are grazers whose natural diets consist of coarse grasses that wear down their teeth. They have to continuously eat this their whole lives like all large grazers so of course they need to have good teeth for it. EDIT: Horses need their teeth filed or "floated" at an angle to prevent injury due to the structure of their jaws. However this does not mean that they are bad or improperly "made" because they evolved over thousands of years and this is not an "error" of a "creator" but a fact of horse existence. Similarly, us humans need to cut our nails at certain angles or else they can become sharp and scratch ourselves and this is not considered a fault of some creator but a fact of life. Living things need maintenance sometimes. thank you @apothe-osis for pointing this out

Similarly to this last point, because horses are meant for a life of continuous eating, their bodies are designed to be constantly processing their intended diet of grasses in order to keep up with their large body size and won't vomit because of that structure. Horse bodies are built for a different type of life than humans, and vomiting requires a lot of different parts of the body working as one, and horse bodies do not have the proper alignment of organs and reflexes to vomit. This is not a bad thing because typically in their natural environments horses should be eating only coarse grasses and don't have any reason to vomit or mistake something inedible or poisonous for grass. I have an immense fear of vomit so I won't go more into vomit science but yeah

SO MANY ANIMALS have skull shapes that give them better vision on their sides than their fronts. This is a common thing in prey animals because they need to be able to see all around them to look out for predators. It's very anthropocentric to berate them for having "bad sight" when they can see SO MUCH MORE than humans if we're just talking about field/range of vision. They only have a VERY SMALL blind spot in front of them, anyway, and can see most of what is in front of them using binocular vision, while they use monocular vision to see in a wide arc around their sides.

Humans ourselves only use AT MAX about 1/3 the oxygen we inhale, so this is a stupid argument. If horses weren't getting the proper oxygen they needed, they wouldn't be such good runners. You should NEVER be using ALL of the oxygen in your lungs...you should always have some extra, or else you're constantly gasping for breath to perfectly fill your lungs. Their hearts work perfectly with this amount of oxygen

This also misrepresents horse breathing. Horses breathe normally except at gallop, where their intestines don't "slosh back and forth," they move, because their bodies are DESIGNED TO RUN and that movement of their internal organs during gallop is caused by the movement of their abdominal muscles to push their body along. That movement allows them to breathe perfectly in time with each stride, preventing hyperventilating or messing up their breath. This allows them to run more perfectly than humans, who can get messed up in their breathing during sprint and sometimes have to practice/learn how to breathe properly during exertion!!!! Everyone's organs move when they do stuff...our organs and ribs move when we breathe too!

Horses receive enough grief as it is people need to stop spreading misinformation and misrepresenting the information that is out there when it comes to them. We transformed horses into our ideal working animal and now that they have no real purpose in many large modern societies we berate and ridicule them for even their most uncontrollable bodily functions? Why can we not simply accept them for what they are and admire the uniqueness of their biology instead of ridiculing them for it??? I don’t get it horses are beautiful and deserve love just like all living things. They do not exist to spite Mother Nature, they are one of her many children. I hate that people act like horses are some unholy monster when they’re just animals trying to live and at the end of the day so are we

submitted by @hands-off-my-macaroni

[mr2swap]

Stepdad and son time

-Calm down old man, A cigarette won't ruin “My” body-

My stepfather Steve smiled confidently at me and then flexed his huge arms just to reinforce his point.

-I even think they are a little bigger than the last time you saw them, right Steve?-

Despite being outdoors the powerful aroma that came from the smoke reached my nose, that aroma was so familiar, but at the same time it was different I could remember the taste, however I had never tasted one. It was the old and dry lips of my stepfather, those Who remembered the delicious and soothing taste of that horrible habit.

-Oh! How rude I have been... Do you want any of this?? -

Steve took a couple of steps towards me and held the cigarette towards my face, the same face he had left behind 3 years ago. I'm not sure how he did it, but I have no doubt that he is to blame for what I now look like. As an overweight, middle-aged Southern man, I couldn't resist the soothing taste of a good cigarette.

Suddenly my mind relaxed and all the hatred I felt for the guy who had ruined my life vanished. Steve looks as damn happy and confident as the last time I saw him. We continue fishing, drinking and talking as if we were really a couple. Stepfather and his son having a good time, son of a bitch…

When I lived with my mom, he and I never got along well, sometimes we went days without talking even if our room was only a couple of meters away. To me, Steve was just a lazy idiot who was lucky to find someone like my mom.

Although my mom tried to get us closer multiple times, she didn't succeed, Steve and I were very different. I used to be a sports fan, I spent time with my friends playing all day or sweating in the gym, but all that changed when I turned 21 years old, Steve suddenly began to take an interest in my life in a somewhat obsessive way. He started watching the videos I posted about my workouts on Instagram and looking at my friends' profiles.

But the most obvious proof that he was the cause of all this was that just a week after we "mysteriously" woke up in the other's body, Steve left the house in the middle of the night with my motorcycle, the selfish bastard. The only thing he left me was his social security number and a small message:

“I'm sorry that we couldn't find out what caused us to exchange our bodies, but I think we should both continue with our lives. Take care of your mother and don't worry... I'll go visit.”

Since that day my life has been shit, I don't know what the fuck he did to me, but since that day I've had to fight every day with that little voice in my head That makes me act like an idiot, Sometimes and all I can think about is How damn hot it is in the house and how good I could use a six-pack of beer. I guess he thought he would do me a favor by doing that to me to blend in more, or maybe I'm just his trash can where he dumped his shitty habits including his taste in women and Susan, my mother.

Every night before I go to sleep I try to be so fucking drunk that I forget what I do at night with my own mother and when I can't get my mother to give me money for the beers I masturbate furiously in the bathroom to relieve my desire for the disgusting sex with mom

If you're still horny and want to read more of my m2m bodyswap stories, subscribe to my Ko-fi I have over 250 stories in my archives

[scented-morker]

Leaked documents

Enha’s reaction when the HYBE leaked documents talk about kicking fem!8th member out… hurt/comfort, 1k words, mentions of iland (that deserves a tw) and haters… requested by 🩵 anon

Heeseung

His heart absolutely breaks 💔

Even in Iland he'd spent countless hours encouraging you, telling you just how talented you were and how much you deserved to debut

When you'd first debuted and gotten hate for being 'out of place' in the boy group, he was in protection mode at every single schedule

Always distracting you from antis and keeping you close on stage

He reminds you just how talented you are, and probably calls Bang Sihyuk himself

"If you ever remove Yn from this group you will need to find a replacement for me as well."

He does NOT play

If you're out, so is he

You're not allowed to go anywhere by yourself for the next few weeks

"Hee I'm just going to the convenience store."

"Yeah? And I'm coming too."

If you get recognized or heckled boy will he have something to say

He's scary

Jay

He's the only one that can get you out of your room

You locked yourself away as soon as you saw the article, but he sits outside your closed door talking into the wood for twenty minutes

When you finally open it up, he's caging you in his arms

"Remember what we promised as trainees?" He asks once the two of you are laid down in your bed

You mumble and he rolls his eyes.

"What was that?"

"You said you'd always take care of me."

"Exactly. And you said you'd let me."

You bury yourself further into his chest, and he strokes a hand through your hair

"We'd never let that happen."

He sticks to his word, taking care of you extra attentively for the next few weeks

He lets you cry and rant about it as many times as you need, insisting that you aren't annoying and you're allowed to be as upset as you want

Jake

Another hugger

Swears up and down he'd kick down every door in the building if they ever tried to take you from him

"Jakey, you couldn't even break a board during our karate episode."

"Because the board wasn't trying to take my baby from me! My love for you would make me strong!"

Okay Hulk 🙄

He makes a post on Weverse that night that includes an old picture of you two together with the caption 'What would I do without you?'

He's perfectly content to stay stowed away in your room doing nothing for the next few days

And when you do have a meeting at the building, he's stuck to your side the whole time

Gives nasty looks to the CEO himself

He acts like they're going to literally rip you away from him, he's holding on to you for dear life every time you have practice

Sunghoon

He's actually shocked because you keep complaining that they made comments about how he looked

No way you're more upset about them calling him ugly than you are about them discussing possibly removing you from the group

"You need to fix your priorities, love."

"My priorities are fine, thank you very much! Sales probably would be better if I was gone, I know that's true. But calling the prettiest boy ever ugly? That's a crime."

He shuts that down REAL FAST

"Sales would not be better, because we'd be miserable without you. Our careers would suffer the minute you left this building. Don't act like you don't matter in this."

You can't even respond

This might be the most fired up he's ever been, and he's staring straight into your soul eyes and you can't help but tear up

"C'mere," he pulls you tighter against him

"It's okay to be upset. They're crazy for thinking we'd survive without you. I wouldn't make it an hour."

Sunoo

He lets you process however you need, but he refuses to listen to you say lies about his favorite person

"I don't want to drag the group down."

He stares at you like you're crazy

"Drag us down?? Sweetheart, you embarrassed us every single week on Iland."

You roll your eyes, but he's insistent

"I know you probably trauma blocked most of it out, but I remember how hard they were on you for being a girl, and yet every week you made them eat their words. You couldn't drag us down if you tried."

He runs his fingers through your hair and starts a loose braid in it, adoring the way you melt into him as he does so

There's a scream from somewhere in the dorm, followed shortly after by a crashing sound that you pay zero attention to

"Besides, I'd probably have killed one of these idiots without you."

This gets a laugh out of you, a real one, and he smiles proudly

"We're always gonna need you."

Jungwon

He's by your side the SECOND the news comes out

He doesn't make a single comment about the ugly crying you're currently doing

He just kneels on the carpet next to your bed and holds your hands with so much softness

He dips his head until you can see him, wanting to have eye contact so you can see his sincerity

"We wouldn't be enhypen without you. You’re part of us.”

He uses his thumb to wipe the tears off of your cheeks and lets you tug him closer

"Besides, what kind of leader would I be if I let them take our girl? The boys can barely survive without you when you go to shower.”

He counts it as an accomplishment when you let out an airy laugh, and he places a kiss on your forehead

“I’m not gonna let you go, that’s a promise.”

Riki

When I tell you they had to hold this boy down

Oh he’s ANGRY

Literally glaring holes into his phone when he reads it the first time

Jay wrestles him down before he can go knocking on their CEO’s door

He makes better use of his time by trapping you with his entire body the moment he sees you

“You are never allowed out of my sight. I will keep you here forever.”

You sigh, that’s the dream

“No one else gets my girl if they aren’t gonna appreciate her like they should.”

There’s no humor in his voice, and it makes your heart stutter

“You deserve to be loved so much better.”

Praises you in every single show or content you film afterward

Will straight up tell people to shut up if they say anything negative about you, media training is for the weak

[cpunkwitch]

Hi!

Npd is narcississtic personality disorder

The terms in this section are for people with npd to use as a way to describe it label a person they feel safest with in the sense that this person is on their level. I know it sounds egotistical, a person with npd has a screwed sense of self with episodes of grandeur which effect our relationships with others, especially bringing about trust issues and feeling like others aren't worth our energy or effort to maintain a relationship with and our equal or chosen person or whatever term we use is something we feel matches us better than others, someone who we see during our episodes as a person that can help us feel stable and less isolated because they are worthy and just as cool or talented (or however we see ourselves) as we are. Interaction from people who aren't them tends to cause a crash or instability because we feel we aren't recognized the way we need to be.

Bpd is borderline personality disorder. People with this disorder have intense emotions and mood swings that make relationships very hard to manage, with episodes of jealousy and paranoid and a fear of abandonment, the terms we use to describe our person help describe our connection to them, a favourite person (or whatever term) is someone we not only feel sad with but someone we latch onto, attach to and seek out our attention and needs from and usually will do lots for them for their approval, often splitting if we fear upsetting or losing them and spending all our time on them, obsession being one of the strongest symptoms.

PPD is paranoid personality disorder, the terms used for this section help describe the person people with ppd feel safest with during paranoid episodes as they can help with rationalizing ones thoughts.

Aspd is antisocial personality disorder, antisocial and asocial are not synonymous, people with aspd isolate and avoid socialising and these terms are used to describe a person they feel safest socializing with, like a close circle you only talk to because talking to anyone else is uncomfortable most times.

Dpd is dependent personality disorder, people with dpd are largely dependent on getting their needs met and having help with rationality from the person these terms are describing. Things like seperation anxiety can occasionally apply to people with dpd as well as other pd's

Szpd is schizoid personality disorder, an interest person is someone a person with szpd takes interest in and shares their interests with where they otherwise wouldn't.

Hpd is histrionic personality disorder, an attention person is a person someone with hpd latches onto and seeks attention from and solely them, a bit similar to how bpd folk get attached to a person for their needs and an npd person latches onto someone because they're deemed equal.

Avpd is avoidant personality disorder, people with avpd avoid more than just social gatherings and public spaces and a safe person is someone they don't avoid, but someone they feel safe enough to relax with and go to instead of "flaking" or "ghosting"

OCPD is obsessive compulsive personality disorder, not to be confused with ocd which is less about ones personality and behavior and more about their thought process. People with OCPD have an "obsession person" they direct their compulsive obsessions towards, this person takes up a lot of their thoughts.

Stpd is schizotypal personality disorder, a familiar or trustable personal beings them a sense of predictability and safety in an episode of feeling like things are dangerous, off in someway or so on.

Hopefully someone can fill in the gaps I missed or correct any missinfo I may have accidentally said.

As for the terms I suggested

Reliant or reliable person(rlp), while it doesn't strictly have to be for dpd is someone you feel you can most rely on to help meet your needs and such.

A grounded or grounding person(GRP) is relied on to help one stay grounded and rationalize thoughts during episodes of psychosis, paranoia, hallucination, delusions, panics and/or so on.

A comfort person(cmfp) is a person one seeks or finds comfort it, to put simply. Especially during episodes of mood swings, crashes, splittings, spirals etc

Compulsed(CMP) was explained, similar to an obsession person, being the subject of one's compulsive obsession.

Attentive person(atvp) is someone who attends to one's needs and provides the attention one seeks out, essentially another way to say attention person but it doesn't strictly have to be hpd

Ego/supply (egp/syp) was explained, people with npd need a "supply"(something we explained on @clusterrune in the npd masterpost) to help with their ego crashes and not self depricate

A protected/protection/protective person(prtp) is relied on to keep one safe during whatever episode, similar to a safe person.

A connected person(cncp) is like a social person, someone you feel more connected to than others and can actively connect and socialize with as apposed to being closed off around for whatever reason you usually would be.

A social person(scp/sclp) too or social circle(SCLC) are people one with aspd goes to for socialising, talks to, as apposed to normality ghosting or giving short dry replies etc

A stable person(sbp) is similar to a grounding person, helps one stabilize during episodes, rationalise irrational thinking etc

A focused person (FCP), which does not strictly have to be for bpd, is someone a person focuses on even to the point of neglecting others and tasks etc, similar to obsession or favourite person.

Abbreviations are a WIP

Hopefully this helps somehow!

ok this is my list so far-

NPD:

chosen person (CHP)

equal person (EP)

worthy person (WP) <- coined by Belladonna the Narc anon

respected person (RP) <- coined by @wittness

higher person (someone above equal person; less common)

favourite person (usually used for BPD, but pwNPD use it too)

BPD:

favourite person (FP)

fixated person

PPD:

safe person (SP)

trusted person (TP)

ASPD:

chosen person (CHP)

exception person (EP/ECP)

partner in crime (PIC) [not exclusive to ASPD]

HPD:

attention person (AP/ATP)

AVPD:

safe person (SP)

DPD:

depended person (DP)

SZPD:

interest person (IP)

OCPD:

Obsession Person

STPD:

Familiar person

Trustable person (TBP)

[gyaruhana]

HEYHEYYYYYY!!! I know requests are closed, buuuut... my mind has been going crazy thinking about a yandere Min su. Ik he's a cutie patootie but, UGHHH. Am I the only one who sees him as having yan potential?? Idk, but I NEED him as a yan. 😭

Min-Su/Player 125 - Yandere!Min-Su Headcannons

Synopsis: minsu as a yandere..

A/N: i hear you and i see you. he could so be a yan ugh !!

Warnings: yandere content, smut content, kinda short..

➠ Min-Su is sort of like a stray puppy honestly..

➠ he stalks follows you around constantly but never gets too close

➠ he's more on the quiet side so he doesn't really think about going up to you and talking to you

➠ he instead opts for the much creepier move which involves watching you every single day and night

➠ you'll see him everywhere but he's careful enough to make it look like a coincidence so you'll never suspect anything more

➠ he might be a bit of a push over but do NOT mistake that for him being weak..

➠ he's not afraid to get his hands dirty if he knows he can get away with it

➠ he's very much driven by the fear of losing you to someone else and fear makes him do a lot of bad things

➠ If he's able to, he'll kill whoever poses a threat to his chances with you and then burn the body

➠ However, if he can't, he won't hesitate to kidnap you instead

➠ he's so sloppy when he tries to kidnap you because he's doing it out of sheer panic he might lose you

➠ takes three tries before he successfully does it and takes you to his place

➠ he's nervous when you first wake up tied to his chair and tries to be very gentle so you'll like him more but quite quickly gives that up when he realizes you won't change your opinion now that he's kidnapped you

➠ he's still nice.. he loves you and doesn't want to hurt you but he will get upset if you annoy him too much

➠ he will keep you tied to a chair but he'll tie you to his bed at some point for cuddles (he's clingy)

➠ like i said, he's so stray puppy core

➠ he always wants to please you and keep you happy because you're the prettiest girl he's ever seen and he's so hopelessly in love with you

➠ he won't let you leave the house though

➠ On the bright side, he will feed you amazingly !!

➠ 5 star meals all the time and he will not settle for anything less for you

➠ he wants to reward you all the time for being perfect

➠ he also wants to be rewarded with physical touch like head pats

➠ on a more sexual note..

➠ he will top but he is still submissive

➠ he's just on top because he gets nervous you'll try run if he unties you

➠ he's quiet for the most part but he whines every now and again

➠ so so sensitive he literally can't handle teasing

➠ and yet he overstimulates himself every time anyway

➠ he also cries easily

➠ I feel like it's important to mention he'd wait for you to come to him for sex

➠ he's patient and isn't super eager for sex.

➠ as long as he gets cuddles, he's happy

➠ overall, really gentle yandere but does get his hands dirty

"I'm really sorry but I couldn't let him take you from me," Min-Su spoke as he gently caressed your cheek with his thumb. Min-Su never meant if for it to happen like this. He'd rather be on a date with you instead of having you tied up to a chair in his house. However, that guy he saw you with last sunday looked like he was about to sweep you off your feet and Min-Su just couldn't have that. Ideally, he would've just killed the guy like he did the last few that risked his chances of stealing your heart. Unfortunately, Min-Su knew he'd be no match for that guy so he had to do the next best thing; kidnap you. Even if his heart ached at your tears of fear, he knew this was for the better. You were all his now. "Don't cry, please. It's alright. I won't hurt you - not when you're mine,"

[t-a-a-1]

Counting Stars

Pt.2: The Wait

TFP Optimus x Female Reader

Summary: After revealing to Optimus that you are carrying his sparkling, he convinces you to stay under the Autobot care. However, after the sudden appearance of an old lover of yours, Optimus faces difficult challenges as he tries to win you back and learn how to prepare to be a father at the same time.

A/N: Lots of yearning, jealousy, delusions, craving, fluff. All that good stuff.

4K

Counting Stars

Pt.2: The Wait

There is a clear difference between carrying a sparkling and dying. 

You weren’t sure which one you were doing.

Everyone was treating you like you were about to perish. Everyone has always been careful around you. But now they are extremely aware of you. Every step you take, breath, look, smell, nothing was too insignificant. 

“You shouldn’t be carrying that.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t eat that.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t go there.”

The autobots treated you like a doll. Although the thought sounds amusing, it really wasn’t. 

“I just want to go for a drive. I’ve been inside for two weeks. I need to get out.”

Bulkhead moves his helm from side to side. He was  the third bot you asked about going out. 

“What if we crash and you get hurt?” 

You knew he was making up an excuse to not take you for a drive. Because what kind of Autobot would be such a bad driver?

“I am a human! I need the sun and see pretty things or I’ll get depressed and die!”

“Can you just watch the sun and pretty things on TV?”

Crossing your hands in front of your chest, you huff, showing your clear satisfaction. 

“I am sorry (Y/N) but you are carrying the only sparkling Cybertron has seen since millennials. If you weren’t having our species’s only hope, I would be more lenient.” 

Bulkhead’s voice sounds apologetic. You know that he was telling the truth. Maybe they all missed hanging out with you but couldn’t do much due to current circumstances. 

“I am being serious. I need to go out.” you say looking at the bot. “I’ll seriously die.”

You were exaggerating but you didn’t know until how much you could last without going crazy. 

“Well, maybe we can wait until Optimus is back and hear what he thinks.” Arcee steps in, trying to see if she could alleviate the situation. “You know, so no one wants to get in trouble.”

“Prime isn’t even around.”

A simple talk couldn’t fix everything. Although you and Optimus were in speaking terms, you wouldn’t say that things were the way they used to be. Things were still awkward and tense between the two of you. 

“You need to understand him, he is also going through biological needs not seen eons ago,” Ratchet speaks up while still typing on his large computer. “He is nesting for you and the sparkling, he can’t control it and he is trusting us to keep you safe while he is away.”

“Oh so you care about his biological needs but not about mine? I see how it is.”

“It’s not that, it's just–”

Ratchet turns to look at you. 

“Alright, maybe you are right.”

The medic-bot notices the color of your skin. It’s pale. Not in a natural way but in a sick-manner. Your belly has grown and you look tired. Mentally, you must be going through a lot. The weight of the survival of an entire civilization is on your shoulders and you are yet to know if the sparkling will be born healthy. 

“Only for 30 minutes.”

.

.

.

Optimus was able to satisfy his biological needs only after he found ten dandelions. It was extremely hard to bring them to base since they were delicate and were easy for its tiny petals to crumble. He had found several but would have to go back and look for more since most would lose their petals on the way. 

He also found some pretty rocks. He wasn’t sure which one you would like most so he brought all of them. 

“So you are here to stay with (Y/N) for the rest of the pregnancy?”

His olfactory sensors picked a familiar smell. A human one but it was none of the kids. It was a scent he wasn’t fond of. One he very much wished did not exist. 

“Yes, as a Special Agent, I was assigned this duty. Which I am glad for, I want to spend time with (Y/N) as much as possible.”

Special Agent Alex. Fowler’s Co-worker and your childhood best friend. 

Optimus’ sensors were on alert. All of his instincts warned him. 

“Potential male threat detected. Human male may potentially steal sparkling and partner. Action Required: Keep human male away from mate.”

“May I inquire about your reasoning behind your sudden … presence without invitation?”

He didn’t waste any time as he walked towards the center of the hangar. His tall demeanor did not seem to phase the secret agent. 

“Hey, Prime! Sorry for not announcing it before,” Alex waved knowing that he would get more of a reaction out of Optimus if he pretended that his hostility does not affect him. “But I am just doing my duty. (Y/N) was originally supposed to be transported to a secured area under my watch. But since that didn’t happen, I’ll be staying here.”

“(Y/N) is currently protected by five Autobots at all times. She’s safe here and does not need your guarding.”

“That may be right but (Y/N)’s child is a matter of national security. I can’t let the Autobots have complete control over humanity’s first human-alien hybrid child.”

Optimus closes his servo, fighting the urge to smash the human like a mosquito. 

“My sparkling is no human experiment.”

“I am not saying it was,” Alex looks directly at Optimus’ optics. Unafraid. “What I am saying is that the child would benefit from having all the resources this world can offer. That child, no matter what it may be or look like, would be more human than Cybertronian. It will grow here. Learn our languages, history, traditions and culture.”

Alex smirks, about to deliver the final hit. 

“It’s not like there’s much to learn from Cybertron after all,” he says. “I may raise that child myself.”

Everyone could hear Optimus’ gun engine turn on, about to point directly at the agent. 

Until you showed up. 

“Alex?”

He immediately put away his weapon, pretending that he wasn’t about to harm a certain individual. He couldn’t do it, not after seeing the smile on your face. 

Not after you jumped into his arms, hugging him as he spinned you around. 

“Alert. Action Required: Eliminate threat. Keep human male away from mate. Alert.”

His processor telling him commands wasn’t helping the feelings in his spark. 

“You have always been beautiful but pregnancy suits you so well. It’s going to make my stay here all the more pleasant.”

Alex has always been a flirt.  But you never took it seriously. At least not now. You used to love the compliments during the time of your relationship. Years ago. 

“Are you staying here?”

You ask excitedly, in a desperate need of a friend your age. A human friend who would understand your need to get coffee and see the sunsets. 

“Yes, you won’t have to be lonely anymore,” Alex puts a hand on your head, giving you a soft head pat. An act Optimus was never able to do casually. Putting hands on you without consent in any way did not fit right with him.  “I’ll stay as long as you have me.”

“Yes! You can stay in my room!”

You seem to enjoy the affection. The agent gave you a certain warmness Optimus couldn’t give you and his processor is starting to write codes unfamiliar to him. 

“I am highly against that–”

“Alright, I’ll put my things in there,” Alex’s voice was louder than Optimus’ as he was closer to you. You were too excited to pay attention to the rising anger of the bot. “But tell me, where were you? I was waiting for you and got kinda worried.”

“I’ve been inside here for two weeks and Ratchet took me for a quick drive.”

“For two weeks? That’s not healthy for you and the baby, you need to stay active and get enough sunlight.”

“That’s what I told them but they wouldn’t listen to me.”

Everyone around you noticed your evident happiness that they didn’t mind the comment. You were right, they weren’t taking your needs into consideration. It was even more evident by the sudden change of your mood. 

“Well, from now on I’ll be taking care of you,” Alex moves his hand to caress your cheek. “And I’ll take you on regular drives and trips.”

“Do not touch my sparkmate–”

“Also I brought you a gift!”

He looks down at his backpack as Optimus’ voice subsides. Opening it quickly and showing the content inside it. 

“My favorite chocolate!” you take the pink box from his hands. It was an expensive brand and hard to find. Not available anywhere in the city.  “Thank you! 

Optimus quickly thinks of the things he got you. Dandelions, flowers, rocks. Would you love them just as much? Will you jump in excitement and hug him? Will you see him as fit enough to be your provider, protector and Sparkmate?

“Analysis Complete: Human Male wishes to bond with Sparkmate and steal Sparkling. Activating Sparkmate Protection Codes. Eliminate offering. Keep Sparkmate secluded.”

It’s like he couldn’t control himself. It was fear, confusion and jealousy that overtook his processor. 

Without any announcement, Optimus walks towards you and takes the chocolate box using two of his digits. You watch him with amusement, not understanding his actions. And without any previous warning, he crushes the box. 

The Autobots don’t say a word, flabbergasted at their leader’s actions. 

“I- I am–”

Optimus wanted to apologize but he was so surprised by his own doing that no words left his dermas. 

The room is silent for a few seconds until sobbing is heard coming from you.  Normally, you wouldn’t cry but your hormones have been acting differently, making you more emotionally sensitive.

You run to your room, Alex quickly follows by until the two of you disappear from the hangar. 

“Sparkmate in distress. Advance with caution. In case of Sparkmate rejection, proceed to program Offline codes.” 

Optimus looks at his servo. The pink chocolate box is destroyed. It was a nice gift. Delicate, gentle, genuine. And he destroyed it. All that was left was the result of his own selfish actions. 

.

.

.

He didn’t know how to approach you. Nor knew if he should. His processor was begging him to go talk to you. 

His pedes hang from the cliff as he sees the stars in the sky. Its a view Cybertron was unknown to.  His home planet, with all of its technological advances, unique traditions and indescribable views could never have this kind of beauty. Yet, it can’t compare to the delicacy of your eyes.

Hearing heavy steps walking towards him, he knows it wasn’t you. Most of the time, he couldn’t tell when you were approaching him, your steps were too small to be heard. Either that or he would smell your scent. 

“You know, the right thing to do is apologize, right?”

Arcee was not one to open up easily. That was something she had in common with Optimus. 

“It would be simple if I knew she would want me to,” he responds, seeing the motorcycle sit next to him.

“... Are all male bots this stupid?”

“I believe so.”

There was silence but it wasn’t awkward. They didn’t need to talk to understand each other. Optimus is a great leader but somewhat stupid when it comes to relationships. It is of no surprise, however. Cybertronian and Human relationships are very different. Cybertron culture is more reserved, sometimes even completely political. As a species living for so long, it’s more about companionship. A long lasting friendship. Finding a Sparkmate was completely rare. Something not everyone would get to experience. 

Humans however … Due to their short lifespan, they were more prone to fall in love and out of love rather fast. 

“My processor has been programmed to do things I deemed as primitive for our kind,” he says. “Sometimes I can’t control it.”

“Then just tell her that,” Arceee puts a servo on his shoulder. Physical contact wasn’t common in Cybertron either. But he didn’t mind. “And apologize … a lot.”

.

.

.

You started to overthink. A lot. 

Optimus had feelings for you. Of that you were almost certain. You think ‘almost’ because now you weren’t so sure. 

Optimus would live for many years after you are gone. Maybe one day he will finally find the one, his Sparkmate. Where would that leave your child? He has told you that he will be responsible. But is he doing it out of duty or because he has love for his sparkling? You didn’t want him to believe that he is being forced to stay. 

It was a stupid thought. You knew that. But the thought still lingers in the back of your mind. 

“Prime is gonna kill me whenever he finds out I took you out of the base.”

It's always nice to get out of the base during the night. Especially with someone who saw you as an individual instead of just a ‘carrier and savior of an advanced robot race.’ He also drives nicely, not too fast, not too slow. Alex used to be a mechanic, his love for cars was always evident. Even as he drives, you can tell that this is all he ever wanted to do. 

“You know he won’t even kill a fly.”

“Yeah and that’s why it’s so fun to tease him.”

Alex tried to diminish the tension of the previous situation. He didn’t know why Optimus did what he did. But he feels a bit guilty for teasing Optimus as much. Maybe if he hadn't pushed him to his limits, he wouldn't have done such ugly act. 

“Can we go to the beach?”

You ask randomly. 

Alex smiles.

“Sure.”

.

.

.

When Ratchet informed him that you had gone on a night drive with Alex, he immediately went to your room. 

Why?

It was something even he couldn’t understand.

He knew he wasn’t going to find you there. 

Yet, his processor couldn’t understand how you weren’t here. He needs you. Now. His every circuit aching at the thought of you leaving his side. Carrying his sparkling and with a male who had successfully stolen you from his servos even if it's just for one night. 

He can still smell your scent in your room. Even after he had mass-shifted to enter, the room was still too small for him. He touched the bedsheets and began to miss the moments he has shared with you before in it. 

Where are you?

He needs you now. He needs to hold you, to know that you are safe. To express how much he adores you and the sparkling. 

“Sparkmate Status: Missing. Sparkling Status: Missing. Safety Status: Unknown. If Unable To Locate, Proceed With Solitude Activation Codes.”

He used his Comm-Link to call your cell phone. But nothing. He tried again. Nothing. 

It wasn’t until the 30th time that he understood … You didn’t want to be with him. 

You didn’t want him. 

You didn’t want him.

You didn’t want him. 

His servos tremble. 

Optics feel heavy. It’s strange. Having blue liquid come out of his eyes. He had cried before. For different reasons. This was pain, in its purest form. In a way words can’t describe. Proof of it were his subsided pleas of air as he had forgotten how to breathe, something he didn’t know he could do until he saw you. 

His spark aches. It hurts. Everything. 

Everything …  His everything is gone.

.

.

.

It was about a 10 hour drive.

Watching the sunrise was always a beautiful experience. Feeling the warm sunlight touch your skin energizes you. It made you forget the previous negative emotions and you began to have this strange yearning. 

For Optimus.

You wanted to be with him. Wishing he could  be here with you along with your unborn child. 

Maybe he had over reacted but knowing Optimus he probably has a good reason for destroying the chocolate box. Was he taking care of your weight? What if chocolate is toxic for sparklings? You wanted to talk to him and make things better–

Oh. 

You were right. You do need the sun. 

“Let’s build a sandcastle.”

Alex could sometimes be like a child, which was fun. There was never a boring moment with him.

“Let’s build an Autobot, instead!”

You let yourself touch the sand and immediately feel something moving inside you. It feels strange. It doesn’t hurt but feels very uncanny. Nonetheless, you smile as you put your hands in your belly. Your sparkling may be more human than you think, also enjoying the activity and fresh air. 

“Do you think will look like his father?”

You ask Alex as he tries to make a small square with his hands, using water from a water bottle. 

He looks at you and then down at his little project. 

“If the child were to live on Cybertron then I would prefer for them to look like Optimus,” he says, trying to think of a delicate way to tell you his opinion. “But since they will be living on Earth, then I genuinely hope they look more human.”

You know you will love the child no matter what. But Alex had a point. What kind of life will the child live if he is too different? Humans can be cruel, especially to those who are different. 

“If something happens to me … will you take care of them?”

He lets out a heavy sigh and looks at you again. His mood had been ruined but it was a question you were meaning to ask. 

“You know childbirth is difficult as it is and well, I am assuming giving birth to the first Human-Cybertronian child would be even more so.”

“You know we’ll have the best doctors in the world for that day,” Alex starts to mold more rectangular boxes as he stacks them up. Meanwhile you have started working on the head. “And if anyone can come out alive out of that it's you.”

He makes a pause and a small laugh escapes from his lips. 

“Besides, didn’t you fuck a 20 feet tall alien robot? You did that and came out fine. Childbirth should be a piece of cake.”

Without any notice, Alex’s mouth is filled with sand. You had thrown him a sand-ball and he started spitting it out and washing his mouth with the remaining water. 

“Hey! It's true!”

“Yes but you didn’t have to say it like that!”

“I don’t blame you, if Arcee would give me the chance, I would hit too–”

You throw more sand at him and he also retaliates. A sandy-battle unleashed as the wind was in your favor. Alex was gentle enough to only attack you below or above your belly. His ‘projectiles’ are extremely small compared to yours and between giggles and laughs, the battle continues until both of your hairs and clothes are covered with sand. 

And then, Alex’s phone begins to ring. 

.

.

.

“Where is he?”

The sun is still rising. The groundbridge could not stop time. But the time in California and Nevada were the same. 

You run towards Ratchet who is still by the groundbrige system, Alex close by.

“At the top, he is doing better now that I told him you were returning but …” The autobot medic pauses, not finding the right words to describe the situation. “I think you should go and see for yourself.”

You didn’t hesitate and made your way towards the rooftop. Of course, you didn’t run but you moved as fast as your pregnant body could. 

It was a good workout, you were losing your breath as you made your way to the elevator. If you had been in better shape, you would have taken the stairs. 

As you wait to arrive at the top, you could hear the beats of your heart palpitating against your chest. Overthinking is a talent of yours. Many stupid thoughts crossed your head. Thinking that Optimus was too angry at you for leaving the base without permission. You were ready to accept your punishment, whatever that may be. 

Instead, as you arrive at the top of the cliff, there are more questions than answers. 

You find big rocks, with a weight of more than a ton. Two rocks standing vertically and one on top of the two laying horizontally. Like a small house made out of giant rocks, enough space for a single Cybertronian. One that is around 20 feet tall, blue and red that turns into a truck.

Optimus is there but he is too busy spraying dandelions around his small house that he didn’t notice your presence. 

It wasn’t until he turned around that his optics shine in excitement. He almost runs towards but reminds himself to be gentle. Reaching out a servo, you expected him to hold you but he doesn’t he pulls away, using all of his strength to restrain himself. 

“I am glad to see you are safe.”

He says in a soft voice, the relief in his voice is evident and you feel the need to jump into his servos and be embraced by him. But just like him, you stopped yourself from doing so.

“I am glad you are safe too,” you tilted your body a little, your attention directed to the rocks behind. “Ratchet said you were acting … strange.”

Optimus also takes a look at his creation. He wished he could do better but its the best he could do with his limited resources. 

“Yes, you could say so.”

“May I ask, what is going on?”

He has been meaning to tell you but he doesn't know without getting nervous. He didn’t know how you would react. Will you think of him as weird? Disgusting even? But he can’t run away any longer. You are the sword and he is against a dead end with the only option being moving forward.

“Cybertron hasn’t had a sparkling in milenia so to ensure its safety, my processor activated primal codes,” Optimus says. “It makes me do things that may be antiquated.”

Not understanding fully, but if you had to come to a conclusion, Optimus may be going through something similar to animal mating rituals. Which is not so far fetched since Cybertron used to have Predacons before Cybertronians appeared. 

“Is that why you destroyed my chocolate box?”

“Due that we haven’t concluded the Conjunx Ritus, my processor doesn’t consider you as my Conjunx Endura yet, although I consider you my Sparkmate” Optimus blinks multiple times as he only does when he is nervous. “I identified Special Agent Alex’s actions as threatening to steal you and my sparkling.”

“Me?”

“Yes, although those reasons are more … intimate ones.”

Your heart beats faster as the sunlight reflects on his paint-job. He looks beautiful. You once again remember how incredible and extraordinary of an individual he is. There is no one like him in the entire universe and never will. You feel delighted to know that you are in his presence, being able to admire a side not one has seen yet. 

“Oh,” you look away after realizing you had been staring at him for too long.  “And that?”

You point at the rock structure and Optimus optics quickly follow. 

“After you left, I went to look for you at your private quarters,” he kept looking at the rocks and you wonder the struggles he had to go through to carry them to the top. “Not seeing you there activated my Solitude Codes.”

He walks towards the rocks, there are a lot of dandelions. Some of them died. Others are alive. There is some sort of yearning in his optics as if he belongs there. Its a sorrowful yearning, as if he was made to do something that he wishes to not do. Yet, he knows he would be skillful at it. 

“I felt the need to build this.”

“And do what?”

You ask, not wanting to walk closer as you thought that maybe you would be overstepping his boundaries. 

“Wait,” he answers. 

His back faces you. Not being able to see his faceplate, you can only tell how he feels based on his voice box’s tone. He just stands there, looking down. 

“For what?”

“For you to come back.”

He answers so longingly that it makes you almost shed a tear. For a moment, time stops. There is no wind, no sound, no scent, nothing. But just him. As if your entire world had become just him.  

“... And if I didn’t come back?”

He slowly turns to look at you. A soft smile, of  love. There wasn’t any desire in it. It was pure. Genuine. As he is in love with your soul and wishes to spend eternity with the thought of you. With your existence, whatever that was. To be one until the heavens and the earth collide. 

“I would wait until you do.”

And for a second, the Prime no longer was. But just a spark. In his purest form. His faceplates open, he wants to say something but it's lost in words. He had given up so easily. Realizing that he has yet to find the right words to express his love for you. A love so vast that not even the best poets or writers could ever put into paper. 

If he could go back in time and stop himself from becoming a Prime, he would. Because being an archivist would have made him more eloquent, maybe then, he could describe to you a small fraction of his endless adoration. 

“Prime–”

“Guys!” Alex came out of the elevator, screaming and ruining the moment. “Sorry to interrupt but we have a message coming from Megatron!”

He tilts his head outside the elevator, blue eyes staring at the two of you. Noticing that he interrupted a romantic scenario, he just pointed a finger at the two of you. 

“Prime we need you, please make-out quickly!”

And with that, Alex leaves as soon as he appeared. 

“Well, now that you are here, I won’t be using this,” Optimus walks towards you and bends down on one knee. He is still too tall but you appreciate that he tries to see you faceplate to face. Using a servo, he caresses your hair and your soft skin. With so much adoration and devotion. 

  “I don’t have much time but I realized I haven’t thank you yet for carrying my Sparkling.”

He wants to hold you. Craving it. He wishes he could have time to tell you more. To whisper in your ears sweet things. To read to you the most lovely of poems. To just rot in a bed, indulging in nothing but love. 

But he can’t. Not now. 

“Creating a new life with you has been the greatest honor of my life.” 

He stands up, walks past you. Leaving you at a shock, at a state of awe. 

“Now, let us go,” he says. “Some things can’t wait.”

He'll wait until you call him by his first name again.

.

.

.

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A/N: It was fun to write this. Optimus panicking and not understanding the changes he is going through. I think on this he has accepted that he may not win you back but that won't stop him from loving you and his sparkling. Meanwhile you are falling for him all over again.

I wrote this because y'all liked the concept for Counting Stars and supported it a lot! So thank you everyone so much for the support.

This was a one shot and I continued it because there was lots of love but I don't have a certain story-line. To be honest I don't know how to continue it.

For the next chapter (if there is one) I was thinking that Megatron accidentally sends Reader to the Dark Dimension where Reader meets Nemesis Prime. In this dimension, Optimus loses Reader and his Sparkling, transforming him into an evil being.

Meanwhile in Reader's dimension, Optimus is losing it. Slowly spiraling into madness at the thought of never seeing Reader and his Sparkling again. Destroying everything on sight, the Autobots fight to keep Optimus at bay.

The plot would end with Optimus and Nemesis fighting to see who would keep Reader.

That storyline would take around 2-3 chapters and it would conclude this story.

But that is just a thought, I still don't if I'll continue this since I really need to focus on writing the next chapter for 'The Darkest Hour'

And I am currently working on a oneshot bayverse Optimus fic too so please look forward to it!

Again thank you for reading and sorry for any spelling and grammar mistakes.

See You in the next story!

Previous:

https://www.tumblr.com/t-a-a-1/771132293279580160/counting-stars?source=share

[sungiescheotluv]

mirror muscles ⭑.ᐟ na jaemin

pairing: na jaemin x gender neutral reader

word count: 2.7k

tags/warnings: fluff, established relationship, suggestive, gym talk(?)

summary: doing your new resolutions with jaemin has always worked in your favor, most goals ticked off your lists. however, when you mention going to gym, jaemin's enthusiasm reaches new heights.

notes: hiyaaaa! it feels like forever since i last posted (two days omg 🙄) but i do hope you pretty stars enjoy this very indulgent fic! as an aspiring gym girlie, i'd do anything for this kind of princess treatment (particularly from jaemin 😋) also, the title of this is based on the soft play song with the same name (emo jisung, lemme give u some music recs). ok, i think i'm done here. wishing u all the best, much loveeee! <3

Note to self: never, under any circumstances, tell Jaemin your New Year’s resolution. Because one peek at your ambitious list and Jaemin will pry you from your warm bed, at the ass crack of dawn (might you add) to go to the gym because ‘nothing beats a morning pump.’

If you weren’t stupidly in love with him, you would’ve dropped a dumbbell on his toe.

How you get to this point is a lot more wholesome. Since the start of your relationship, once snow trickles down for Christmas, you two sit at your dining table with your laptops opened on Pinterest and pin-point what goals you'd like to achieve the following year. This way, you’re not shouldering your ambitions alone, having each other every step of the year as you tick off box after box. So far, you’ve managed to complete most of your goals. Go traveling, learn a new language, cook more home-cooked meals, limit screen time (still working on that) and many more. Jaemin was also progressing well: dedicating more time in his photography, reducing his coffee intake, going to bed earlier and visiting his mother more. 

For this year’s moodboard, while collecting pictures of your next set of goals, fitness content shows up in your recommendations. People in pilates studios in their pastel pink gym-sets. The aesthetic draws you in, how content people feel moving their body besides getting their 10k steps a day in. More photos start showing up, people sculpting their pride in the gym, sharing personal stories of their fitness journey and how the gym has taught them so much about themselves. What they’re capable of, what they never thought they could do and what opportunities lie await now that they’re happier in themselves. It all seems promising, even more so when you reconsider how bright your best friend’s life’s become since making the choice. She’d rarely accompany you to a game of badminton and now she’s pioneering her own run-club, amassing a social media following the size of an army.

You’d have to ask her how to get started once she’s back from her influencer trip (maybe content creating is something you needed to hop on). Then again, peering over your laptop screen to Jaemin’s glowing face, you could simply ask him. He’s been consistently going to the gym for a while now, to the point where you fake-pleaded for SM to close their gym because your boyfriend's become too buff for you to function. He’s always been gorgeous, with a face that could charm a snake, but now that he’s carved like a Renaissance sculpture, you couldn’t form a coherent sentence around him. Of course, aesthetic reasons are what lured him into the space, but he relays it’s become a lot more than that for him.

“I want to be strong, not only to build my confidence but to also protect my loved ones,” he looks directly at you, a serious hue to his eyes that has you breathless. “It’s another form of self-love, is my thinking. Showing up for myself, proving I can do hard things, even when I don’t want to. That I can step out of my comfort zone, trying new things and ultimately, living a longer life. Because at the end of the day, as much as I do this for me, I also do it so I can help you carry groceries. So that I can move furniture around when we move in together, be the one that my family calls if they need something physically demanding done,”

Fondness curves his lips, a flicker of timidity dart his eyes down to the desk before they flicker back up at you, astoundingly earnest as he says, “I’d also want to keep up with our kids. Carry them when they’re tired or run after them in a park. Those are my reasons.”

Something stutters in your chest. Then, leaps. Over the course of your three year relationship, it’s only natural that topics like this are mentioned, like marriage and children. Heck, you two shared a Pinterest board of decor ideas for the shared apartment you’d been on the lookout for. So, it shouldn't phase you but it does. How far into the future he sees with you. How he shares a bit of himself so effortlessly, in a way that lacks pressure and possesses good faith. Love and promise. All prominent themes throughout your relationship, one you thank your lucky stars for.

As a consequence, you flush. Folding like the early days of your relationships. “You’re getting bold these days. We haven’t even moved in together.”

“All in good time, angel,” he grins, looking a bit lovesick. “In any case, if this is something you wanna do, I’d be more than happy to help. Go to the gym with you so you don’t feel anxious, show you how to use the machines, get you workout clothes - whatever you want.”

You could marry this man.

You extend your arm across the wooden table, hand finding his as your fingers interlace, the same song and dance you’d hope you’d spend your life doing. “Thanks, baby.”

And now? Now, divorce weighs heavily on your mind.

In an effort to avoid the New Year’s crowd, Jaemin wakes you up early in the slum of days after Christmas where time doesn’t exist, cuddling into your half-sleeping figure with a gentle voice. Coaxes you to get up, slip on the new gym clothes you’d spent on his card (his treat, he said) and somehow, here you are, stinging eyes squinting under fluorescent lights with some EDM track playing faintly in the background.

“Oh, baby. Don’t look so down, you’re in good hands,” Jaemin coos, hand squishing your cheeks under your chin before pulling you into his chest, warm and comforting. “I’ll take care of you.”

“Couldn’t this wait until,” you glance at your fitness tracker, your own treat to yourself. “Midday? No one needs to be here at 9 am.”

“Maybe, but it’s a good way to start your day. Or get it out of the way,” he chuckles, spinning you out his arms before he wiggles his eyebrows. “Plus, who doesn’t want to see my muscles first thing in the morning?”

He drives home his point by kissing his bicep, something that should make you cringe out your skin or disappear without a trace, but no. Perhaps you’re still sleepy, shielding a snicker with your hand because of how lame (said adoringly) he is.

“You said you’d usually start off with thirty minutes on the treadmill, right?” You nod your head. “Okay, I’ll go with you. I’ll run for fifteen and row until you're done. So you don’t constantly have me in your ear.”

You laugh, because as grumpy as you’d been on the way here, you could never grow tired of him. All his carefree and mischief nature, his sweet and generous manner - you couldn’t even if you tried. 

Few people populate the modern gym, near to none in the cardio section as Jaemin refreshes your memory on all the buttons before you begin. Beside you, he does sporadic sprints, no heavy breaths clouding his chatter with you. You, on the other hand, keep it relatively reserved for your first time, upping the speed when you want to challenge yourself, surprising yourself with the distance and time that flies by. Soon enough, Jaemin’s squeezing your hand and moving a few rows back where the rowing machines are, leaving you with your walking playlist.

Again, in a flash, time passes by, upbeat songs blaring in your headphones that make you dance through the next fifteen minutes, a simmer of sadness coming when you’ve reached time with a whole host of songs still in the queue.

“You can listen to them next time,” Jaemin winks before leading you into a dark, LED room dotted with mirrors and yoga mats. This is one of the rooms booked for classes, but for now, it’s your stretching area where you cycle through some stretches and Jaemin jokes about folding you like a pretzel. 

The one other person in the room - a woman in her thirties - coughs, before smirking your way, the heat of your embarrassment migrating to your cheeks as you swat at Jaemin. He simply laughs, stretching to reveal his happy trail and suddenly, you forget why you’re even mad. 

When you’re finished, he shows you different sections - an assortment of cable machines, the weights area and then to an area with more machines. There’s a few people occupying the machines, immersed in their own world with flushed cheeks and sweat seeping into their clothes. It fills you with relief, that no one’s focused on you and your sweating figure as if you had ‘gym newbie’ written across your forehead. Jaemin shows you some of the machines he uses, depending on what he wants to work out but for the most part, lets you decide what machines you’d want to use - if any.

“Why do I need to put on muscle? You putting me in a headlock is good enough.” You fake-complain, feeding off the gentle approach Jaemin’s taken in trying to convert you to a gym rat.

“And you say I’m the dirty one,” he tsks with a matching grin. “You don’t need to do anything. All I’m doing is showing you the options you have. The more things you try, the more likely you’ll find something you lik-”

“Is that the slut machine?”

Jaemin’s head jerks back, eyebrows pinching together in confusion. “What are you talking about?’

“This one,” you approach the machine closeby, pointing to the photo attached along with its actual name - hip adduction. “Isn’t this the one where people like, open their legs like crazy?”

Jaemin shakes his head, amusement in the smile he swipes with his hand. “Yes, it is. Wanna give it a go?”

“Hell yeah,” you climb into the machine in a rush, finding the experience more exciting than scary as Jaemin makes sure everything is in order. “This is gonna be hilarious.”

“I’m setting it to a low weight. If it’s too easy, we’ll move it upwards and try and find your range,” he comments, looking at you through his silver hair. “You ready?”

“Ready,” and you go, the weight moving like nothing, so much so that when it sets back to its original position, you’re more caught off guard by how far apart your legs are spread. “This is so raunchy, ohmygod.”

“Good thing it’s facing the wall,” Jaemin laughs at you shielding in between your legs. He ups the weight, the number looking a lot scarier than anticipated. “Let’s try this then. You should be able to rep 10 of these.”

You shuffle, a bit unconvinced. Taking a breath, you engage the machine, exerting more effort than before but managing to do one rep. Then two, then three all the way up to ten. Enough to challenge you, but not strain you.

Jaemin howls, pinching your cheek as he says, “Look at you go! That was great.”

“Thank you,” you huff, the tingle in your thighs somehow the source of the happiness in your chest. “That was really fun, actually.”

“Isn’t it?” Jaemin smiles, using some paper towel to wipe after the machine for you. “Usually people do about three sets of those. Reps depend on what you want to do - build endurance, muscle strength, all that. But that was really great, I’m so proud of you.”

And you feel proud of yourself too. Having tried something new, feeling unsure but leaning into the feeling. Letting yourself see how far you can extend yourself, pleasantly surprised with the distance. 

So, this was what Jaemin was on about.

You continue your morning like this, getting a personalised tutoring session in how certain machines works and what areas they work out. Jaemin runs through his leg day, since you two were on the hip adduction machine, enjoying more exercises like leg press and goblet squats. By the time you get to the hip thrust machine to try, someone’s occupying it. Jaemin suggests using the squat rack, the scary thing with a long barbell and weights attached to it. Sensing your apprehension, Jaemin lets you know he’s got you, coaching you through the exercise and any queries you may have about movement or positioning. Eventually, it’s your turn to lean against the incline bench and despite your fear, you work your way through 8 hip thrusts. You don’t nearly enjoy it as much as people online talk about it, which Jaemin says,

“That’s perfectly fine. There’s so many exercises that work the same areas. You’ll find one you prefer.” 

Finished for your session, Jaemin asks for you to hold tight while he does some deadlifts. It’s maddening watching him pick up such heavy weights, concentration knitting his eyebrows together with his exposed arms flexing under the tension. Wearing a sleeveless top for the gym in theory is great, but for your mental health? Bad, so bad. 

Because even if your body rings with exhaustion, the kind that’s refreshing and ensures a peaceful slumber, you’re about ready to jump his bone. 

Ill with lust, as you’d joke. 

Jaemin snickers, snapping his waist belt off with one hand, which shouldn’t be sexy but is. Your eyes then trail to the barbell, the memory of Jaemin’s set vivid in your mind.

“Did you wanna try it?” Jaemin asks, reading your mind. “We can start off with no weights. Just the barbell. There’s also different variations of a deadlift, let’s see which one you prefer.”

Out of the three, you pick the most conventional one to start with, teeth sinking into your bottom lip at what you’ve gotten yourself into. Particularly after Jaemin loads weights on each end when you've rehearsed with the barbell.

“Think of the barbell cutting your feet in half - not standing too close so that your shins are touching it and not too far away that you have to lean to grab it,” Jaemin coaches, your feet shuffling into the right position. “Nice. Let’s move onto the hinge movement,”

From behind you, his hands settle onto your hips, pulling them back with him. He pats them, a chuckle left in his wake as he steps to your side to demonstrate without overly being horny. 

Bastard.

“Like you just did, you’ve gotta hinge your hips backwards until you can’t hinge anymore. Then, you’ll move a little into your knees, like a squat almost so you can grab the barbell,” you follow along, the barbell cold against your hands as you blow a breath.

“Great. Keep your body tense, engage your core and glutes. No arch,” his hand hovers over the arch of your back, something teasing in his smile. “Show your chest, keep your head up straight and lift the barbell up. Remember to keep it close to your body before you lower it down with the same hinge movement and movement into your knees.”

You puff out another breath, the same fear you’ve conquered throughout the session whirring in your chest.

“Don’t worry, angel,” Jaemin smiles, moving behind you again with hovered hands around your figure. “I’ve got you. You’ve got you.” 

Again, his words dawn on you. All the power in your hands, a feeling your heart wants nothing more than to run towards as you lift up the barbell, strength personified as you wait at the top of your stance, smiling at the “Let’s fucking go, you’re doing it! You’re doing it, angel!” in your ear. You hinge backwards, the weight knocked down to the floor with no tension on your back as expected.

Once you’re upright again, Jaemin engulfs you in a backhug, lifting your figure off the floor and kissing your neck, drawing giggles out of you. Joy moves through your body like warm light at his excitement that exceeds your own, belief not setting in quite yet.

“I can’t believe you,” he coos, the mirror ahead of you capturing the embrace he holds you in, the elation in his eyes as he does nothing but adore you. Like he’s always done. “Actually, I can. You’ve got a laundry list of things you’re good at. Can you believe it?”

“Not originally,” you admit, the confession somewhat bittersweet. “But after this, I think I’d better have more faith in myself.”

Fondness finds itself in his lips again, a kiss against your cheek as he gently guides you out the way, lifting the barbell onto the rack with his gaze in the mirror directed to yours. 

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

And you fall into laughter, helping him slid off the weights before flexing in the mirror like you wanted, finding a different strength in yourself with Jaemin by your side.

[clare-875]

Morning Company (Sanji x Reader)

_____ Pairing: Sanji x Female Reader Summary: Sanji wakes before the dawn breaks, and so you find yourself doing the same to keep him company Warnings: Fluff [One Piece Masterlist] _____

Sanji wakes up before five every morning to prepare breakfast for the crew and prepare meals for the day. He is used to waking up to the chill that comes with a dawning day and pulling himself from the warmth of his bed. But the one thing he despised most was leaving you beneath blankets and having to begrudgingly remove you from his embrace. You always looked so beautiful as you slept, and his heart could only beat faster when you reached for his warmth as he pulled away, only making him want to stay.

He was in awe of your love; he couldn't believe you were his.

The pleasant company of you in his room was a stark contrast to the dim kitchen where he would be left to prepare meals for the day alone. Despite the sound of Brook playing his violin into the early morning, he could not help but selfishly miss your presence in the daybreak. He was so used to your words frantically reaching the air or your presence next to him, that he could only wait for the sun to bring you from your slumber and back to him again.

However, unbeknownst to Sanji, you have started to take more notice of the fact that your boyfriend would often be gone from bed whenever you woke. In fact, rarely did you wake up to his warmth next to you, and his peaceful face as he slept or stared adoringly to you. So, you had decided to embark on a secret little mission of yours, one that may require earlier nights, but hopefully result in mornings spent with your beloved.

Today, was the beginning of those mornings.

You can feel Sanji stir from next to you, and trying to hide a smile, you pretend to be asleep. You can feel his arms shift from around you and you hear his sigh as he realises he needs to get up for another day. A few moments pass before he gently shifts you from his arms, and places a soft kiss on your head. "Good Morning, love." His words are soft-spoken as to not 'wake' you but low from his sleep, and it makes your heart jolt in your chest. He then groans and pulls himself to his feet, before stepping to the door and leaving for the kitchen.

You wait two beats before deciding to join him.

Sanji has only just started retrieving ingredients from the fridge and picking out utensils when he hears the creak of the door behind him. Figuring it might be Brook who sometimes comes in for a cup of tea, he doesn't turn at first. "Morning Brook," he says casually, but what greets him instead is a sudden but familiar warmth that has his heart hammering. "Morning, love," you say, pressing your face into Sanji's back and relishing the warmth of him in contrast to the cool morning air. "Expecting someone else?"

Sanji pauses for only a moment in pleasant surprise before he turns from within your arms so he can look down at you. You smile sleepily up at him, and you appreciate the way his eyes seem to enlighten as he looks at you, a gentle smile on his face. "Love, why are you up so early? Aren't you cold? Tired? You can go back to bed if you-" You shake your head against his chest, shushing his concerns and rolling your eyes. "I'm fine, Sanji. Besides, I wanted to keep you company."

One of Sanji's hands reaches for the loose strands of your slightly dishevelled hair, tucking it behind your ear and lingering there. He stares at you in silent wonderment for a moment, how someone so kind and beautiful and loving could care for him in the way that you do. He places a delicate kiss on your head and you smile up at him at the action, just as you hear Brook's violin gently start to play a tune into the early morning. "This is actually kinda nice," you murmur and Sanji's fondness only grows.

"Let me make some tea for you, love."

Sanji's gentle voice interrupts the rhythm of slow swaying but it is you who pulls away from the confines of his arms. "No, no, you continue with your meal prep, I can make us the tea." Before your boyfriend can say anything to retaliate, you have reached for the kettle, and so Sanji joins you by your side as he heats up the stove and starts cutting up vegetables. You teasingly bump his hip with yours, as you reach for two mugs and start boiling the water.

Time passes in the ease of the other's presence; you sip your tea and help Sanji prepare breakfast. During the quiet of the morning, the two of you find yourself comfortable in the domesticity of it all, as Sanji guides your hands to a variety of tasks. You spill your words easily into the morning air, of your plans for the day, of funny things you saw the prior day, of anything that's on your mind. Throughout, all Sanji does is smile softly and nod to your rambling with keen interest.

You only stop when your tasks are finished and you feel you have been talking too much, hearing too much of Sanji's silence. "Love, are you okay? You've been quiet." You ask as you carry finished plates of breakfast to the dining table. But Sanji only looks to you with an expression adorned in love. "Everything's perfect, love. You are perfect." He walks over to you and suddenly you are in his arms once more, as he leans down and captures your lips. You kiss him back with equal fervour and he feels your own smile on your lips.

The both of you pull away just in time for the kitchen door to slam open.

"Sanji, I'm hungry!!"

"Morning Sanji-kun, [y/n]!!"

"Good morning!!"

"Hey, cook! Where's my breakfast?"

The rowdy crew enter the confines of the dining area and makes their way happily to the meals that have been prepared and are waiting for them. Suddenly your quiet morning has disappeared, replaced by a lively atmosphere. "Morning," you reply back in a sing-song voice, smiling as Nami gives you a knowing glance. But you simply take Sanji's hand in yours and guide him to the dining table as he obliges to your actions in contentedness.

"All right, let's eat!!"

Luffy's voice is all it takes for everyone to start their meals, and you do the same, but Sanji can't help but sneak glances at you throughout. When you finally meet his gaze and smile, a light blush adorns his face.

All of a sudden, the morning becomes his favourite time of the day.

[ohmy-gojo]

jjk as cats with you as their caretaker au ෆ

you were just a simple employee at a cat adoption center. for most people it would be a dream, getting paid to take care of kitties? hell yeah. it was yours for a long time, but now..

"satoru, suguru. how many times have i told you both to not go outside?"

the white and black cats stared at you sheepishly, caught red handed trying to leave the shop. you had closed the shop, which meant no going out now. they both were the troublesome duo, always causing chaos. satoru tried to appease you by rubbing his head in your leg which made you crouch down and pat his head. this action however irked suguru, causing him to meow angrily at the white cat and jump to your arms

"oh hush, stop being so possessive suguru. satoru deserves love too, everyone deserves love here," you paused then took them both in your lap "well everyone except sukuna, thats why hes in the cage."

at your words the unusually colored red cat hissed angrily, giving you a stink eye. can cats even make such expressions? you honestly dont know. maybe the lack of sleep is getting to you. satoru and suguru simultaneously looked at him haughtily, flexing to not be stuck in the cage, rather in your arms

"everyone should be like kento here, hes such a good cat. isnt that right ken?"

you left the black and white cats to check kento— whom you affectionately call ken, sitting in his cat couch unbothered. you in fact have nicknames for every cats here but only call them that when theyre not being naughty. which means you call kento 'ken' all the time, much to the annoyance (and jealousy) of other cats

satoru and suguru's faces fell at the sight of you leaving them, giving a whining mewl. sukuna smirked at their frowny faces. 'heh.. karma' he thought in cat language

you took kento in your arms and gave him rubs. "youre such a good boy ken, arent you? yes you are, yes you are!— the goodest boy,"

kento preened at your words and huddled closer to your arms. hes always on his best behavior to get this treatment. he looked down on satoru and suguru, giving them a look of superiority

you were now walking around with kento in your arms, you already closed the shop so you just gotta leave for home. suddenly you remembered about the other cat, choso. whom you haven't seen in quite some moments

"shit!" you hastily put kento down much to his dismay "have any of you seen choso??""

sometimes you thought you were going crazy. here you were asking them questions as if they could answer. maybe you should quit and start therapy

but thats a problem for later! now you had a cat to find. in a hurry you accidentally stepped on something.. soft. which was chosos tail, he hissed in pain from his position under the chair where he was sleeping

at this satoru, suguru, sukuna laughed. even kento let out a quiet snort. in cat language of course. they already knew where choso was, opting to stay quiet instead.

"im so so sorry cho!!" you held the brown cat face to face with you, "forgive me?"

the brown cat pouted at you before finally accepting your apology with a quiet meow. you smiled happily and peppered his face with kisses. choso was now a happy cat. the others? well not so

sukuna, sick of you giving all these stray cats (deregatory) affection meowed loudly to get your attention. he then did something he absolutely hated but since he was desperate... he gave you kitty eyes (cat version of puppy eyes) you stared at him for some time before sighing heavily

"yeah yeah, im gonna get you out now. maybe don't scare away customers anymore?" you rolled you eyes but took out the keys to unlock his cage, he knew this method would work. "but who am i telling this, you still gonna do that no?"

sukuna just stared at you innocently, tilting his head. you scoffed but took him in your arms at the same time. you looked down at the four other felines who were at your feet, eager to be picked up. they were truly spoiled. weird thing is, they only ever acted this clingy and affectionate towards you, not other people or even their owner, mr. gege (they hated him for some reason, especially satoru). you stared at their hopeful blinking eyes and sighed again

"okay okay, you all can come to stay at my home tonight."

they all cheered. you once again thought you were mad to think cats can cheer. but oh well.

[esotericbluntbaby]

HIIIII i love your writing style so bad, i came on here to request something and then i see you doubt your own writing which is crazy cuz they're all good!!! can i request hamzah and reader in something worse than a situationship so she brings out like someone attractive along at a party or something (it could literally be a gay man that offered to help her idk) to see if it'd make him jealous and it actually does. IM SORRY if you get too mant jealous hamzah requests but i just yearn for him, PLS have angst in the beginning 😭😭🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼.

worsened aches

hamzahthefantastic x reader

description: though toxic and envious, you realize that your situationship had to have gone through the worst in order to better itself for the sake of you and hamzah.

mentions: angst (expect it at this point), yearning, posessiveness, toxicity in a situationship out of confusion, she/her pronouns, both hamzah and reader are equally mean to each other so hopefully it cancels out, a guy making you uncomfortable and grabbing your hand, a fight scene, happy ending, sfw for the most part

listen to partynextdoor while you're reading lol. specifically make it to the morning or resentment but honestly any will do <3

--

"you're literally fucking crazy- what are you talking about?"

you and hamzah were currently going at it like two players on rival teams. though your relationship, or lack there of, was toxic and overly complicated, you both stayed in the same rooms you fought in because of the loneliness that consumed the both of you. obviously, arguing wasn't fun, nor was it ethical for the sake of your mental health, yet, bickering with someone else was somehow better than spending your nights alone and depressed.

you met hamzah because of how loud he was. you were, and still are, his neighbor who moved in a couple months ago. getting annoyed of the lack of sleep, you decided to march over to his apartment in the same manner that the guardsmen stomp in front of the royal palace; they had the queen to defend, while you had your sanity to fight for. over time, the friendship and simultaneous rivalry stemmed from that night and bloomed into the situationship you have right now.

you and hamzah technically aren't anything; technically, you and hamzah are nothing more than just friends who occasionally act coupley to fill the voids that call you to jump out of windows and balconies. you both were lonely, creating a seemingly win-win situation. he comes over whenever he needs someone to cuddle at night, or more than cuddle, and vice versa. it's been a system that's worked out for about eight-ish months now.

as all situationships do, it was bound to crash and tumble like hurricanes over the ocean. over time, the lack of a label caused more problems than einstein could sold. neither of you had a complete understanding of the boundaries you each wanted, nor did either of you want to risk creating a more serious problem than what it seemed to be by talking about it. so, over time, resentment built itself up within the foundations of the connection between the both of you as communication began to settle in the roots of the ground it was built on.

the night started alright; it was simple making out, occasional pecks on the cheeks and forehead, and constant physical touch. he even bought you food and fed it to you while you two sat on the couch and watched comfort movies. your presence was enjoyed as much as his was. it was normal that whenever hamzah was over, you'd completely lose sight of the bad parts of the connection you have after any part of him would touch you. however, the mood quickly changed when hamzah answered the call of another girl while on your couch. watching his smile expand at her words as you were cuddled up right beside him caused a pit to grow within your chest. it felt wrong. technically, given that you two were friends, it wasn't; however, the fact that he was all over you two seconds before you both heard the ringtone was, in fact, wrong. you moved away, distancing mountains and seas between you two on his couch, as eventually the call became silent and he hung up. you wouldn't speak to him. growing annoyed, he forced you to speak, to which you called him an asshole for "damn near flirting with a girl in front of you." thus, his gaslighting begun.

"hamzah, what do you mean, 'what's wrong with me?' what's wrong with you?"

he scoffed, "fucking nothing. nothing even happened- i have no clue what you're talking about. why are you making something out of nothing?"

"that's so fucking mature. you told me to talk, didn't you? or did i just make something out of nothing again?"

"oh my god, that's not what i meant- dude, why are you even mad? it's not like i did anything."

you raised your eyebrows, "my head was literally on your lap while you were flirting with her."

he slowly emphasized his words, "i wasn't even flirting with her."

"you made your voice deep like you were fuckin' neil degrasse tyson, are you joking? and what the hell was she saying that was making you laugh that hard?"

he put his hands up in defense, "it's not a big deal. so what if jess called me and i laughed when she told me a fuckin joke? it's not that deep."

your body felt like it was rising in temperature, "you're actually such a liar- we both know that it was that deep, bro. that's literally how you laugh with me."

"why does it matter if that's how i laugh with you?" he made a noise between a laugh and scoff and looked back at the television, "it's not like we're dating."

he was right. you weren't dating, so you can't be upset. you knew you mostly wanted that reassurance that he wouldn't find someone else while messing with you on the side, though you assumed that hamzah wasn't like that. you've had the run down of a bad dating history and horrible ex's and, yeah, hamzah was kind of bad. however, hamzah was bad in a way where at least it was to your face, unlike the infidelity and lies in your past relationships. unlike them, the worst that hamzah would do was get defensive over an argument or say something that was a little too mean on accident because he was genuinely just speaking his mind. honestly, the touch and treatment he gave you during the times you weren't bitchy towards each other evened out the slight toxicity; actually, even surpassing it. however, this was too far. this was a lie and you knew it. it was a lie that he specifically told to hurt you on purpose.

sure, maybe you could've gone a different direction with confronting him and maybe you were too aggressive with your accusations; but at the same time, you were also hurt that he would do that in front of you, as your head rested a couple of inches away from his heartbeat. the intimacy of the setting the both of you were in was overtaken by a green bogeyman; envy in its personified form.

the room fell silent as he kept on watching the movie. he only looked at you when you sniffled from tearing up so much. you guys have argued in the past, but never have you cried in front of him; this was vulnerability that you allowed to seep through you like sunlight seeps through the roots of a plant.

his attention was now fully on you, "are you crying?"

"hamzah, i want you to get out of my place."

"wait-"

you stood up and began to walk through the door, "let yourself out the door and don't come back. i'm done."

--

three weeks without him had passed and you were an emotional wreck; a wreck that was so bad that other cars on the road had to stop to see it for themselves. throughout the stages of grief, you were currently on the acceptance stage. you hadn't left you apartment ever since that night out of fear that he'd be leaving his, next door. a couple of times, you heard the knock that you two made for each other to signify that it was the other person at the door. with each knuckle to the wood, a pang in your heart thumped harder and with more rigor. luckily, it only lasted a total of a week before he stopped coming over.

since any romantic encounter or even simple things around your house reminded you of the man next door, you were going to continue to rot in bed whilst watching horror movies. however, the plan was quickly changed when rey, the gay man you met at a club a couple of months ago, decided to text you.

rey :p

5:42 pm | hey boo

5:42 pm | i haven't talked to you in forever

5:42 pm | how r u?

you

5:43 pm | im horrible

5:43 pm | u rmbr the guy i used to talk to u about

rey :p

5:44 pm | the one that was ur bf but also not ur bf?

5:44 pm | like the one that u showed me a pic of and i said he had the same eyes as central cee

you

5:44 pm | yeah

rey :p

5:44 pm | what'd the bitch do

you

5:45 pm | he was genuinely being an asshole

5:45 pm | he literally picked up the phone right

rey :p

5:45 pm | mhmmm

you

5:46 pm | it was a girl

5:46 pm | i was laying my head down on his lap

5:46 pm | and i guess she was the funniest person in the world or smth bc he was laughing his ass off like a fucking idiot

rey :p

5:46 pm | bro hell no

5:46 pm | r u serious

5:47 pm | r u okay

you

5:47 pm | bedrotting lowk lol

5:47 pm | haven't gotten out of my bed in like a full three days

5:48 pm | idk i guess i js miss him

rey :p

5:48 pm | it's reasonable

5:48 pm | im going to a party tn

5:48 pm | come with meeeeee

5:48 pm | maybe u just need a distraction

you

5:49 pm | idk rey

rey :p

5:50 pm | go get dressed and pls shower dont be stinky

5:50 pm | ill pick u up at like uhhhh 8ish

you

5:50 pm | fine

--

you were two drinks down when rey was only tipsy from one drink. being the designated driver, he didn't want to overdo it; yet, he reassured you that he'd take care of you throughout the night. you were simply enjoying his presence; however, given that it was his friends' party that he was going to, occasionally you were left by yourself leaning on walls or sitting on couches and getting up when a couple started to make out on the leather right next to you. after a while, you began to regret going; the more you were alone, the more you thought about how hamzah would be towering over you like some sort of bodyguard in order to make sure that nobody spiked your drink.

as you were zoned out and thinking about him once again, you suddenly came into focus when rey went up to you and gave you a side hug. confused, your eyebrows furrowed as you looked up at him.

"are you thinking about him again?" rey asked, taking another sip of his seltzer.

you sighed, "is it that obvious?"

"if you wanna go home, i can take you. i'm sorry if i pushed you too hard to go out- i just didn't want you to stay home crying over some boy."

"no, yea, i get it. thank you, really, maybe i just needed to go outside. are you ready to go home?"

"i was just gonna drop you off and come back."

you didn't want to seem like a burden; rey was only trying to help you with coping. to have to drive a whole thirty minutes just to drop you off and come back seemed like too much to ask for; after everything that happened with hamzah when it came to begging for communication and reassurance, you hated seeming like you had too much to ask for. so, you took a deep breath and began to brave the waters even more; this was new territory for you that you were now forcing yourself to become familiar with for the rest of the night.

"no, it's okay. i'll stay- i kinda don't wanna be alone," you half-lied.

he put his hand on your shoulder reassuringly, "are you sure?"

"yeah," you sipped the vodka cranberry out of your red solo cup, "i'm sure.

"well," he began to give you a hug with his back facing the front entrance, "if you do wanna leave, tell me."

you hugged him back, "i will. thanks, rey."

unwrapping his arms from you, he walked in the direction of the party as you still stood near the entrance. however, you soon realized that his body was blocking the very sight you tried your best to avoid; hamzah was standing right in front of the doorway, dressed in one of the outfits that made you weak. standing with his friends, his hard expression fixated on you as he realized that some other guy was on you the way that he was. you locked eye contact, sensing the tense gaze he scorned towards you. you decided that it was time to go to the bathroom.

--

sitting on the cold tile for about twenty minutes helped ground you to the reality of your situation. you came to this party hoping to escape the emotions that he made you feel after basking and bathing in them for the past three weeks, however, the same guy appeared right in front of you at the worst time possible. you could go one of two ways: go bother rey and make him drive thirty minutes to and back from your house just to drop you off, or to stay in the bathroom.

considering that someone knocked on the bathroom door as you were pondering, you decided to choose neither of the options and chose a secret, third one: to stay so that rey can enjoy his night.

leaving the bathroom into a relatively empty hallway, you felt an odd stare as you walked past a tall man holding a beer in his hand. you heard and felt his heavy footsteps right behind you, trailing after you in the dark area. you started to walk quicker towards the end of the hallway, reaching the entrance to it that led to the living room where a couple of groups of people were.

"where are you going, pretty lady?" you heard from behind you.

you ignored him, finding his remarks uncomfortable and weird.

you felt his breath on your neck, "y'know, it's rude to ignore a man who's interested in you."

"leave me alone," you sternly demanded.

"what, are you a fucking prude or something?" he asked, grabbing your wrist.

"what the fuck? let go of me, now," you warned as his grip on you tightened, causing your heart to drop all the way to your bladder.

suddenly, he was being pulled off of you and pounded into by someone's fists so fast that it could possibly beat the speed of light; you could tell by the way that the figure punched that it was hamzah. you didn't even see him in the room before he was on the floor with the man from the hallway. you stood there, motionless with worry for hamzah's physical being, as people attempted to intervene and pull hamzah off of him. you watched as hamzah was pried off of him by martin, scolding him and asking him what he was doing. luckily, the man simply left the area and hamzah went into the bathroom, alone.

luckily, the room went back to the usual conversations relatively quick, since it lasted a couple of punches thrown in by hamzah; in addition, a couple of people were staring at you as you yelled at him to let go of your arm. you didn't know how to feel. what if he didn't get him off of you? would you have gotten assaulted? or even worse? however, those thoughts also simultaneously existed with thoughts of how hamzah got there so quick and why he just pummeled a guy into the floor, even after you two weren't on good terms. nevertheless, you went against your goal of avoiding anything hamzah-related and walked to the bathroom.

knocking on the door, he took a minute to turn the knob. he saw you in front of him and gazed at you with an expression that you haven't seen on him before; a mixture of everything felt tonight and, possibly, for the past three weeks. you got a good look at how his eyebags were more protruded as if the skin had a second layer. his eyebags mixed with the lilac and ruby shades mixed in led you to believe that he was struggling to sleep; it was as if you were looking at a mirror.

"can i come in?" you asked.

though you realize that this is stunting your ability to heal, his voice was comforting, "yeah, sure."

he sat down on the closed toilet, as you sat down on the rim of the bathtub besides it. he stared at his hand, bruises and redness already forming on his knuckles, as well as an open gash on his ring finger. you got up from the bathtub rim and crouched over to the cabinet below the sink, watching his eyes linger onto you as you searched for something to clean out his would and wrap it. taking out a roll of bandage and wound cleaner, you sat back down. you gently took his hand in yours and began to clean his wound.

"this might hurt," you mumbled.

you squeezed the wound cleaner as he winced, a sour expression with his eyebrows scrunched on his face apparent. you began to wrap his hand, trying your best to be as gentle as possible. you still felt his eyes on you, like you were a puppet performing in front of an audience.

you broke the silence, "are you drunk?"

"what?"

"y'know, have you drank anything since you got here."

"oh- no, no i haven't."

you ripped the end of the bandage off, attempting to tie it onto his hand, "so, you beat his ass completely sober?"

he chuckled, "yeah."

"it was stupid."

he gave you a look of disbelief, "what?"

"hamzah, you could've hurt yourself! what if he had a knife on him or a gun or just something-"

"you're telling me that i'm stupid for getting a guy, who was clearly making you uncomfortable, off of you?"

you sighed, "no, hamzah, you're not stupid. i'm saying that your actions were stupid because you could've gotten seriously hurt and i don't want to be the reason you're in the hospital. i don't want you to get hurt at all."

"well, would he have done it?"

puzzled, you tilted your head to the side, "who?"

"the- fuckin- the guy you were with- him- would he have done this for you?"

a chuckle of disbelief escaped from your throat, "why does that matter?"

"i saw him hugging you and shit, he should've done what i did- where was he when you needed him? why'd he let you go to the bathroom by yourself?"

"why does it matter if he was hugging me, hamzah? why does it matter if he left me alone?"

"because if you're gonna replace me with him, he has to be better than me!" his voice got slightly louder, causing you to jump, "fuck- if we're not together anymore, you have to find someone that could take care of you as well as i did or even better."

your eyes squinted with annoyance, "hamzah, you literally just said that we were just friends. what are you talking about 'we're not together anymore?' you were the one who said that we weren't ever together."

"i fucking lied, okay? i lied. i fucking lied to you because i can't handle the fact that you wanted more and i- i just- i can't be enough for you," he rushed as the information in his head that he wanted to let out was twice as fast as his words, "i wanted more too. fuck, i wanted more so fucking bad- you don't get it, but i'd be selfish if i just took you all for myself even if i couldn't give you everything that you deserve."

emotions began to implode within your chest, "are you serious? you could've fucking tried or, better yet, you could've just talked to me, hamzah! genuinely, what the hell are you even talking about with that 'i couldn't give you everything' shit. i don't want everything, i just wanted you."

your breathing became heavier as tears began to flow out of your eyes once more, mirroring the scene at your apartment that lead to this very encounter. though you laid in bed for three weeks, you didn't cry once, not ever since the time you last cried in front of him. every single fear was running rampant in your head from speaking to him with such vulnerability. yet, you soon realized that there was no point of holding back. he was already watching you intently and listening to every single word you were saying, gazing at you with longing eyes that yearned the longer you were sat in the bathroom. there was no turning back now, so you decided to tell him everything that you've been feeling and thinking in the past three weeks of agonizing heartbreak with one, singular sentence. with breaths heavy within your chest and tears now streaming down your face, you let go.

"hamzah, i just want you."

in that moment, hamzah saw the heartbreak in personified, human form. he watched you crumple apart in front of him like balls of paper about to be thrown into a trash can. hamzah went into the situationship with the thought that it would be the best possible outcome; the outcome where there's no mess to clean up, nor promises to keep, nor expectations to maintain. the situationship was, in his eyes, a way to keep you both from being hurt. knowing that his very intention was to not hurt you at all, as he watched you crying your eyes out in front of him, finally caused the the realization that he was supporting the very cause he was against.

hamzah didn't know what to do, yet, he knew he had to make this right for the sake of you, him, and the connection between you two.

hamzah lifted you up onto his lap, unsure and hesitant, watching your reaction to his actions. watching the tears on your face slowly stop sliding down and your breathing get slightly lighter, he believed it was okay. he wiped your face with his thumbs with such gentleness to it; in hamzah's mind, he has broken you down to the point where there's cracks in your skin, so he was trying his best not to shatter you completely. after gazing at your eyes with a sympathetic, longing, and apologetic stare, he gently brought your face closer towards his. he closed the gap between you guys' lips, a wave of nostalgia and comfort overtaking the vulnerability that was just in the room. over time, the kiss got more desperate and aching. your lips chased after each other as your tongues moves synchronously with the same feelings of past despair and hopelessness. your hands were roaming up and down each other's bodies as if it was meant to be explored by each other; as if you were both artifacts meant to be excavated. it lasted fifteen minutes; the passion radiated from you guys' bodies even after you stopped kissing to breathe. hamzah was the first to speak.

"i know you came here with a date, but i can't take it anymore. i need you in my life, baby, i need you back and i need you back now. the past couple weeks i haven't been sleeping or eating or doing anything besides just sitting there and realizing that i'm a fucking idiot. i never liked the girl that i was on the phone with and i blocked her right after i left your place, that night. i don't even know what i was doing and i shouldn't have even picked up in the first place- i should have never said we were just friends. i was lying. i was a fucking liar and you can do whatever you want to make me pay for that. you can slap me as hard as you can or burn my hoodies or anything, baby, just-please forgive me, i'm sorry. i'll do anything to have you back in my life-"

you cut him off with a slow, gentle, and lingering kiss, once again. pulling away, he admired you like he was in a trance that he wasn't willing to be broken out of.

"i'm not dating rey. he's here with another guy."

hamzah looked puzzled as he rubbed loving circles onto your thighs, "what?"

"he's gay."

"thank fucking god," he let out a sigh of relief, "i think i felt my heart genuinely shatter when i walked in on him hugging you."

you laughed, "you were that hurt over it?"

"of course i'd be. it's you."

"yeah, yeah, don't flatter me," you teased.

hamzah's expressione turned serious once again, "baby, please come back to me. i'll make it all up to you if you let me, i promise. i don't care how long it takes or what i'll have to do. let me prove to you that i can take care of you."

your expression also became serious, "it depends. are you taking care of me as my idiot neighbor who occasionally comes over to do things that friends don't do?"

you asked the question expecting him to answer that he'll do better than that, however, he surprised you once again.

he took your hand and kissed it, "no, i'll take care of you as your boyfriend, if you'll let me."

--

authors note!

hi guys this is so late i am going to bed goodnight!

[siri-ike]

(I put the painting at the bottom so you have to read if you want to see it)

Some encouraging comments, reblogs, and the occasional fanart. Danny's notifications were predictable and comforting. People really appreciated his work, and he loved to see it. The fanart was usually posted publicly, though, and so he rebloged them ofcorse.

But, what's the right reaction when someone d.m.s you a picture of an intricate and very personal looking portrait of a boy who looks a lot like you, in black and white on one side and red and ghostly green shrouded in darkness on the other?

The two separate mediums were incredibly impressive, but was this a threat? Did someone find out who he was? And find out about Phantom?? Well, Danny is no coward, so he replied.

What kind of Addams Family shinaniganary is this?

TheBloodSon was apparently 15 years old, same as Danny, so why is he responding to him in poetic cuplets? Poems, mind you, that also kind of sound like threats. Yet endearing at the same time. They had the general vibe of "if I can't have you, no one can."

And Danny's not falling for that a third time.

● ● ●

Anyway.

Danny fell for that a third time.

TheBloodSon 's real name was Damian. He didn't wanna reveal a last name, and surprisingly, he didn't wanna know Danny's either. Something about not wanting an oricle to find him. Not that it would matter since Danny didn't have a legal identity anyway.

It went on that way for months, until one day.

Sent 18:47

TheBloodSon: I am skilled in bloodshed, but know less of emotion. With great caution, i tread, to confess my devotion.

In one week's time, a ball is planned. Will you attend? Holding my hand?

Read 18:53

Danny didn't know how to react. This was such a big leap. Sure, they knew eachothers interests, hobbies, talents, and how anoying echothers families were. But meeting in person? At an event of some sort? From what he'd heard/read, Damiens family regularly went to big rich people parties. With fancy clothes, and got ambushed by reporters and/or costumed villains. Usually both. Should he bring a thermos? Does he know about Phantom?

Sent 16:14

AstroBoi13: Which ball? My uncle might be going.

TheBloodSon: The Wayne charity gala. Anyone who makes a donation can go, but you don't have to if you are my guest.

AstroBoi13: it's not that I don't trust you or anything, but I think I'd rather have someone I already know and a way to get back home.

TheBloodSon: Understood, I look forward to seeing you.

18:18

AstroBoi13: I talked to him, we'll be there.

TheBloodSon: Exelent, your presence will be dually noted.

Read 18:20

Damian would be shaking with excitement, were he not highly trained to control such urges. But there was something more to it this time. More than an urge to flap his arms about, more than wanting to run a few laps. He wanted to... tell someone? That can't be right.

Damian could resist the first day. Five more, and he'd be golden. On the second day, however, the urge got stronger. Usually, he could just smother it, and it went away. But it wasn't going away.

He didn't even want to brag or rub it in someone's face. It was a different need. He wanted someone to be exited with him. The thought of Grayson congratulating him on making a normal friend, followed, of course, by far too much touching. He pictured Stephanie "hyping him up," as she says, and it tied his stomach in the best way. He imagined how all his "family members" would react. Multiple outcomes for each of course. And by far, the most consistent was Cassandra. So that's who he could tell if it came to that.

On the third day, he started to falter. And in a house full of detectives, the slightest hint is enough. He was aware of this and had acted accordingly. Unfortunately, he had once again underestimated the butler.

On the fifth day, Pennyworth caught him pacing in the library and moving his hands in a fanning motion. He had thought, maybe allowing himself this would help him stay quiet. But he still wanted so badly to divulge.

"Master Damian, are you alright?"

Damian stopped abruptly. He pretends as though he hadn't just been displaying the most obvious signs of secrecy. The league taught him better than this.

"I, am, great." Oh, good job, that was very convincing.

Pennyworth, of course, did not fall for this.

"If something is on your mind, I will gladly lend an ear. And if not, might I suggest pacing in front of the bookshelves instead, so the wind might clear the dust." He retorted with his usual, frivolous jokes.

"My affairs are none of your concern."

"Then perhaps you may speak aloud to the library while I clean."

Pennyworth's notions on "telling people how you feel" were as pointless as all his opinions. Had it rubbed off on him? Is he the reason Damian feels this need to talk about Danny. So much that the idea of telling someone made his heart flutter and his breath quicken.

Damian turned his head toward the butler. Paying close attention to his body language while keeping his own face out of view. "You must promise not to tell anyone."

Alfred just kept dusting the bookshelves, never even looking at Damian. "I give you my word. Anything you say stays between us." He placed his hand on his chest, but he still didn't look Damians way.

Pennyworth has no history of being deceitful. At least not towards them.

"I, I invited someone to the galla on Thursday... We have not met before." Confessing felt good, like he'd been holding up a large weight, and now he was finally relaxing his arms. He could feel a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "And I find myself concerned whether he will like me in person. Or if he will even show up." Where did that come from? Of course, he'll show up. Why wouldn't he?

Damian sat down on one of the couches. "He didn't want to go as my guest. He said he would ask his uncle to take him, but what if he was lying. What if he just doesn't want to see me. What if I already scared him off?" That was it, not just a weight. A giant lead ball just got removed from his stomach.

Alfred stopped cleaning. "This boy, is he your age?"

"Yes, he's fourteen." Damian leaned his arms on his knees.

"How do you know each other?" He turned his head towards Damian.

Damian avoided eyecontact. "We send messages over the internet."

"For how long?" He put down his duster and stepped closer.

"Seven months." He's going to be in trouble for sure. Inviting a stranger to the manor? What was he thinking?

Alfred was only a few feet away. "In these seven months, has he shown to be the kind of person who would stand you up?"

Damian thought for a moment. "No." Guilt, remorse, how could he think so little of his friend? Damian felt Alfred's hand on his back and, for once, didn't fight it.

"If he shows up, you'll get to meet each other in person. If he doesn't, then it'll be just another gala. You've survived those before." He assured with his typical dramatics.

On the sixth day, four hours before the early guests would start to arrive, Damian was at the tailor getting his suit (he got it adjusted every other week due to his current growth rate). Jebadiah "Bread" Carlson was nice to spend time with. He was always calm and rather monotone. Damian found comfort in his demeanor. Sometimes, he would stay there longer than he needed, and he'd even learned how to properly mend a stabwound on multiple materials. Mother would surely not approve. This was one of those days. He came up with excuses to stay longer like he always did, and Bread talked about his granddaughters' first steps, stitching techniques, and the camps. He was soothing to listen to. Before Damian knew it, three and a half hours had passed, and Jayson was there to pick him up.

18:18

AstroBoi13: I talked to him, we'll be there

TheBloodSon: Exelent, your presence will be dually noted.

Read 18:20

This is fine.

This is fine.

The fruit loop didn't even ask for much. Which was super out of character. He's definitely planning something. But it'll be fine.

Day one went... by, for Danny. His hands clamed up so much that he lost count of how often he washed them. His stomach felt queezy. Not in a sick kind of way, more like, ate too many boiled eggs kind of way, but slightly to the left of that, ya'know?

Unfortunately, he, Dani, and Dan (long story) got stuck in the triassic period along with Ember, Young Blood, and Box Ghost (longer story) for nine full months. The eyeballs wanted to send him home nine months later than he'd disappeared but there was absolutely no way he was skipping all the way to the start of a semester right after not only finishing one but also forgetting everything he'd learned in school. The thing is, Danny's human form had aged by nine months. His ghost form, on the other hand, was exactly the same as it had always been. So Clockwork was able to convince the council, through witchcraft or something, to let him go back to the right time period as long as he stays in his ghost form until his peers are the same age as he is.

OK, great. He can do that. As long as his parents don't go ghost hunting or turn on the ghost shields or he gets knocked out or sleep freezes something or a dozen other things that could happen. He'll deal with it when something inevitably goes wrong.

Somehow, his parents bought the "bleached hair" excuse and didn't even notice his eyes. Jazz helped, of course, but the real challenge came knocking at their door 4 days later in the form of Vlad calling about his suit preferences. That was when panic set in. They were leaving now. Staying the night at a hotel in Gotham because the gala is at 15:00 and according to Vlad, etiquette states they have to come an hour or two early since he was invited by one of the hosts. What do you mean one of the hosts? Damian invited him.

Well, apparently, Damian wasn't just a rich kid. He was the rich kid. Damian Wayne Al-Ghul, all the articles Danny had frantically looked up during the private jet trip seemed to agree that he was either a spoiled short fused brat with a soft spot for animals, or a dead faced con artist who was only taking advantage of Bruce Wayne's tendency to keep every child that crossed his path. The second category also seemed to sing the same song about Cassandra Wayne and Duke Thomas Wayne. Danny just assumed those were the racist tabloids and wrote them off. Especially after seeing a clip of Bruce Wayne puncing one of their "reporters".

Danny then reread all their messages. How he had presented himself mattered, a lot, more than how magazines saw him. After all, Danny knows what it's like to be misrepresented by the media.

Their hotel room was as fancy as he expected. Infact "room" was an understatement. It was a spacious living room with two bedrooms connected to it. Danny's temporary hotel bedroom was bigger than his permanent bedroom at home. Not as big as his, Dani's, or Dan's (he's like 11 now, seriously long story) rooms at Vlads mansion. And deffinetly not like their rooms at the Cheese Castle. But still ridiculously hoighty. All for the low price of pretending to be Vlads son in front of some rich people.

It was kind of nice sharing a room with the other two. Even back home, he never really had to share his bedroom for non emergency reasons. And in these forms (Dani also had to stay ghost and Dan didn't have a human form), they looked more like Vlads kids than His parents'.

10:02

TheBloodSon: At what time will you be here?

AstroBoi13: my uncle wants to bring us by at 2 30 or 2

TheBloodSon: You and who else?

AstroBoi13: Dani and Dan they are 13 and 11 but they can do theyr own thing

TheBloodSon: Are they your siblings or your cousins?

AstroBoi13: kind of

TheBloodSon: perhaps that will be better discussed in person.

Read 10:12

Damian hated greeting the guests, but this time, he didn't complain. It no longer mattered if Father became suspicious because soon he would ask to leave his side. One by one, people arrived. He stared down every limousine that entered their courtyard, and each one disappointed. At 14:36, he wondered if he might have missed their arrival. He was pretty sure Danny was actually Daniel Fenton from Amity Park, son of the Doctors Jack and Madeleine Fenton, and that the "uncle" He had mentioned was Vladius Masters. He couldn't find anything on Dani and Dan, but he had chalked that up to lack of time. Just then, Damian recognized the limo driving in. Anthony and his parents are here.

"Father, may I be excused, I have matters to attend."

"What kind of matters?" Father looked over to the limo approaching and cought on. "Right, I see."

Damian went back in, but rather than staying in the ballroom, where he would eventually be ambushed by Anthony and forced to waste hours hearing about the latest prank videos and "seacret gaming rooms," he went all the way to Father's office before he pulled out his phone.

14:41

TheBloodSon: Where are you?

AstroBoi13: were almost ther Dan threw a tantrum and it slowed us down a bit two minuts promise

TheBloodSon: When you get here, don't go into the ballroom. I'll sneak you away.

AstroBoi13: ??

TheBloodSon: There's an anoying classmate there. I would prefer to avoid him.

Read 14:48

14:59

AstroBoi13: at the gates now

TheBloodSon: Copy

Read 14:59

At 15:03, Damian made it to the front door, just in time to see a very tall, very pale man walk in, followed by a small boy with blueish white hair and sickly white skin, after him was a slightly taller girl, who also had white hair, still pale but not as much as the boy, and behind her was Danny Phantom, guardian of Amity Park, the second biggest city in Illinois. There was no mistaking it. That was the ghost boy Damian had read about in father's files.

Damian cought Bruce's expression from outside. Signaling him to talk to these people, or at least keep an eye on them.

"Ahem." Damian cought their attention. "I am Damian Wayne Al-Ghul, I don't believe we've met."

"Ooh, I'm Danny." Danny said. "Vl, father, may I go with Damian for a while. I'll be back in half an hour to greet your friends." He addressed the tall man. From this close, he looked like he could be two meters tall. Almost as tall as Bane.

"Don't bother, Eleanor won't be here until 4:20," Damian had heard that number be referred to as humorous, but endless research could not explain why. "Just come back some time after that."

"Looks like we got an hour and a half." Danny started in the direction Damian had come from. "Do I get to see your other paintings?"

Little Artist

So I saw this

and had an idea for Danny X Damian. Where Danny likes making various stories he publishes online. Everyone said he needed a hobby and he can’t be an astronount (or join a sport since it would be more suspicious if he left in the middle of a game or practice for a ghost attack) and Ghost Writer got him to try writing, saying it’s relaxing. And honestly? It was. Danny enjoyed making stories. Sometimes he would just type what crazy thing happened to him that day while tweaking names and a few details to not give away his identity. Sometimes he made fanfiction of some stories he liked. And sometimes he tested out making original stories, taking and first hand knowledge from various ghosts and cultures to make his writing more authentic. And after much encouragement from Jazz, he posted some of his work online.

Cue Damian coming across one of his brother’s laptops. He didn’t mean to look for long but he thought the file was for a case and wanted to know more about it. ….then he got invested.

There was an author on this sight who wrote amazing stories. The emotions captured were so vivid, and he even fact checked a few historical facts and languages used. Everything from the dialogue, to the accent, and culture. Each new story completely enraptured him.

It made his fingers twitch for a piece of paper. Some paint, perhaps charcoal?

Damian started putting heavy encryption on his computer and search history. And locked his art room up. Then came a story that truly resonated with him. An original work about a boy from a different place, trying to fit into his new reality and the new rules and expectations placed on him…worried if his family would accept him. It sounded so much like when Damian first came to Wayne Manor. And it sparked his inspiration. He spent days working on his newest piece. Trying different angles and lighting, mixing colors. It looked like a collage between charcoal and watercolor, showing someone leaving a world of darkness into the light, yet this new world was unstable and strange compared to the rigid structure of his old one. When it was finally done, Damian felt like he was both looking at himself and a stranger. The character from the story brought to life.

It felt both freeing and settling, like he finally had a name for what he had been feeling. AstroBoi13’s fics always had that affect on him.

And for the first time, Damian did something he thought he’d never do. He snapped a picture of his masterpiece and sent it to the author. Quickly so he didn’t lose his nerve.

It was fine. It’s just one picture. It’s not like this would be a repeat occurrence.