#so i’ll be talking to my actual journal instead

[gregmarriage]

i think one of my main goals for the rest of this year, and probably for the new year as well, is to actually write in my proper journal, instead of making posts on tumblr, bc the latter doesn’t feel healthy or productive

[landopoet]

two prizes.

pairing lando norris x journalist!reader

warnings smut, oral (fem receiving), mentions of alcohol

synopsis that day was not the first time you and lando had met, and he helps you remember that

author’s note posting my older works, thanks to @clovermoters for the collage up top!

♯

Excitement pulsed through your veins at the mere sound of engines roaring.

The amount of people trying to push past you made you anxious, but you knew it was all part of the experience. Everyone was bunching up to watch one of the greatest events of all time— the Miami GrandPrix.

Once you make it through the crowd, avoiding elbows and shoulders of people much taller and energetic than you, the entrance that you need comes into view.

You weren’t just excited for the interviews you were going to watch up close, but also the entire concept of the race. The hustle of engineers in all these garages, working their hardest to get the drivers in and out of the pits with minimal time to waste. Not to mention the drivers themselves, having to sit in the cars for multiple hours over the race weekend with no complaints— they chose to do this, they deal with the consequences.

That’s exactly what excited you. The reasoning for their choice to do this, you wanted to ask each and every one of them why they wanted to do this, what was so interesting?

You guessed their answer would be the same as yours if you were asked why you became a sports journalist.

Keeping your amazement at bay, you observed the race, focused on everything going on even though it was a lot to keep up with. But that’s exactly what you were there for.

You were sitting in the grandstands, intently watching the cars fly past you, when your phone rang. The caller ID said it was your coworker who had also been at the race but disappeared about ten minutes ago.

“Hello?”

She sounded distressed when you heard her voice. “Hey, love. I was wondering if you could take over the post-race interviews?”

Today was supposed to be a sort of intern day for you, meaning you were just going to watch your colleague interview the drivers and better understand what the etiquette is for it. You hadn’t expected to have your first interview today.

“Uh, why?” You asked, in a whisper. “You know I’ve never interviewed anyone before, right?”

“So?” She seemed much more confident in you than you were in yourself. “You’ve studied journalism for a few years now, yeah? I don’t think you’d have taken an internship at SkySports for nothing.”

“I mean, I guess?” You shrug. “I’m not sure if I’m ready to speak to actual drivers, though. What if I make a fool of myself?”

“You won’t if you remember that they’re just people doing their jobs, and you’re doing your job by asking them questions.” She makes a good point and you sigh in defeat.

“Alright, I’ll do it. Send over the information you’ve written.”

“Sorry.” You hear her slightly laugh. “You gotta fend for yourself with that one, hun. It’s a cruel world we live in. Cheers.”

With that, the call ended and you were left with nothing but anxiety weighing on your shoulders. The rest of the race seemed to fly by in mere minutes, your mind too focused on the pressure of your first ever interview.

Well, not first ever.

You imagined the day would come sooner or later, so you’d practise a conversation with one of the drivers by speaking to yourself in the mirror. That, and watching multiple interviews through the years, soaking up every bit of information you could about the process of it.

Before you knew it, you were standing in a sea of people with their cameras, waiting for the drivers to make their way to you.

It wasn’t that nerve wracking when you actually started talking to them, and by the time you got to Daniel, you had lost all feelings of anxiety, instead laughing along to his jokes.

You thought so, at least. A feeling of intimidation crawled up your spine when your eyes locked with Lando Norris, a driver for Mclaren. You noticed the piercing look from across the room as he spoke to a different interviewer, his green pupils tracking your every move as you spoke to Oscar.

The interview with Oscar wraps up and he begins turning away from you. “Good luck on your next race!”

Oscar smiled at you as he walked off to somewhere you could only guess.

If you had been anxious before, you were probably five times as anxious now, because Oscar Piastri leaving the spot in front of you meant that Lando Norris would be replacing him. And, for whatever reason, he was making you incredibly nervous.

You looked down at the ground as Lando approached you, waiting to hear what you had to say. You couldn’t bear looking up at him, knowing he’s already staring at you. But it was part of your job and you had to stay professional.

“Hello, Lando.” You said, cheerily.

“Hi,” he grinned at you, sweaty and all, his dimples appearing for a split second. “How are you?”

“I’m alright, thanks, how was the race?” You asked with a smile, ignoring the butterflies in the pit of your stomach when he smiled at you again.

Lando’s green eyes studied your face, soaking up each detail he missed since the last time he had seen you. He knows you don’t remember him and he doesn’t need you to, it’s kind of nice to feel something without reciprocation from the other.

After a long while, Lando shrugged. “Yeah, uh, the race was pretty good, I mean, I got first place, so I’d say it’s good. Y’know, aside from Oscar’s incident, but that’s not something we can predict, it just happens.”

You watched intently as he explained the race, your eyes oddly drawn to his lips. The pattern at which they move, and the tempting way he pokes his tongue out to tap the corners of his lips, makes you weak.

This was horribly unprofessional of you, and you knew that, but the charms of this young british racer had worked their magic on you, and you weren’t strong enough to resist it.

You felt like it was just the two of you in the room and both of you were trying your damn best not to break, one for more reasons than the other.

“Yeah, it seems like it was a lucky race for you, the pace of your car was incredible to watch.” You pointed out, looking down at the race data on your clipboard. “The RedBull’s were a bit slower this race, do you think that gave you an advantage?”

“Well, they already win races left, right and centre. They have to be bad sometimes.” Lando stifled a laugh. “But, uh, I don’t know. I think it all came down to the car and my ability to control it. The pace was insane, honestly, I wasn’t expecting it to be faster than a RedBull.”

The joke made you giggle and you quickly hid your face by looking away for a mere moment, in an attempt to recollect yourself. Thankfully, none of the cameras were on your face.

“Or it’s just pure talent, I’d say.” You look back up at him, his eyes never once leaving your face. He’s so smiley and it’s contagious, so you can’t help but smile at him, too. “Any plans for the celebration? You must be feeling ecstatic about your first win, so I assume the celebration must be as big as this.”

Lando puts the tube of his water bottle to his lips and takes a long sip, eyes still glued to you. He wasn’t even blinking, far too focused on the shape of your lips and how good they felt that night. That one night you can’t seem to remember.

“I’m not entirely sure, if I’m honest.” He shrugs, tongue poking out to lick his bottom lip before he takes it between his teeth, biting back the widest grin you’ve ever seen on his face. “I still have to call my mum and siblings.”

“I’m sure they’re incredibly proud of you,” you smile, politely. He’s still intently looking at you, cheeks now burning red at your comment accompanied by his massive grin.

It was time to wrap up your chat with Lando, but, in all honesty, you really didn’t want to. You felt something brewing in your chest at the mere feeling of his eyes burning into you, and it excited you.

Still, you ignore it. You had to stay professional, even if it was all too much to handle. “It was lovely chatting with you, Lando. Congratulations and good luck next race.”

“Will you be interviewing me next time, too?” Lando asks, making no move to walk away just yet. His eyes narrowed onto yours when you looked back at him, an adorably surprised look on your face.

“Uh,” you look away for a moment, not sure what to say. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“I look forward to seeing you again. Maybe.” He gave you another cocky smirk and nodded his head as a farewell, leaving you nothing but a blushing mess in the media pen.

After a plethora of interviews back to back, you were tired beyond words. Your feet were sore, your back hurt, you felt your eyelids close if you stood still for longer than two seconds. The image of your soft hotel bed made you motivated to keep moving through the building and find your way out.

“Oh, hey!” A familiar voice stopped you in your tracks. “Y/N, was it?”

Your eyes find their way to the person behind you and you’re happy to see that it’s Daniel. “Daniel! Hi, nice to see you again.” You extended a hand to shake and he smiled as he squeezed it.

“Was lovely talking to you earlier. You asked such great questions, honestly, it made me really think about my answers, y’know?” You hadn’t noticed how both of you started walking again and he kept up with your pace. “How long have you been doing this?”

“Oh, interviewing?” You ask and he nods eagerly, with the energy of a little boy. “This was my first official day of interviewing, actually. I had to step in for my colleague.”

“No way.” He muses, jaw slack and eyes glimmering with interest. “The way you interacted with me had me thinking you were carrying a load of experience.”

You stifle a laugh and watch the path ahead. “Yeah, well. I practised a lot in my room. You have race sims, I have a mirror and a hairbrush for a microphone.”

Daniel’s laugh echoed in the mostly empty area around you. “You’re funny, too.” He muses once again, shocked by how much fun you can be. “Listen, I know it’s not professional to ask this, but are you free tonight?”

“Oh, uh,” you look up at him and hesitate. “I’m not interested in-“

“No, no,” Daniel waves his hands in the air as if to stop the words spilling from your mouth. “God, no. I was going to ask if you’d like to come to the club later, all of the drivers are gonna be there to celebrate Lando’s win. It could be fun.”

You paused in your steps, brows furrowing as you felt a beam of energy climb up your spine. All of a sudden, your bed didn’t seem like the comfiest thing in the world and you were willing to exchange it for a pair of heels and a dress.

“I’d like that, yeah.” You smiled at Daniel and he reciprocated the gesture.

He gives you a piece of paper with something scribbled on it and you gladly pluck it from his fingers. “Shoot me a text when you’re ready, I’ll give you a ride to the club. Cheers.”

And with that, he disappeared into the car park, the only remainder of his friendly presence being his lingering smell in the air and the scribbled number on the back of a grocery store coupon.

“Thanks, mate.”

Lando’s hand felt heavy as he shook it with someone he barely knew, congratulating him on the win. He’s been stuck in this large group of people for way too long, desperately looking for an escape. And, eventually, he found it— you.

His eyes have been stuck to you for the past fifteen minutes, patiently waiting for the people to finish congratulating him so he could finally talk to you.

When the perfect moment arose, Lando swiftly shimmied between the dancing bodies and made his way to the bar. You were still sitting there, looking as beautiful as the last time he saw you, but now you were right in front of him and he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Lando’s voice startles you when he plops down in a bar stool beside you.

You smile at him, feeling the same anxiety crawl up your spine as the last time you saw him. “I’d say the same, but this feels like the perfect place for a race winner.”

“I honestly hated it before,” he shrugged, looking out into the crowd. “I used to party after a podium, second place being the best I’ve ever had.”

“But now you’re here as a winner.” You’re still looking at him when he turns back around. There’s something so nostalgic about the way he looks at you, almost as if you’ve already been there and seen him before. “A victory looks good on you.”

“Yeah?” He flashes a grin your way, raising a brow. “I’ll try to win more then. Maybe I’ll get to see you again that way.”

“I’m free whenever you want to see me,” you blurt. Lando’s eyebrows raise with surprise when you say that and he bursts into a small laugh when you start flailing your hands around in the air. “Sorry, that’s so unprofessional, I didn’t mean to–“

“It’s fine,” he assures you. “I was actually going to ask you if you wanted to get out of here. But that’s so unprofessional of me.”

“Mr. Norris!” You exclaim with a faux gasp. Lando watches with an amused grin on his face as you smile back at him. “I’d like that very much.”

It didn’t take long for both of you to swivel your way past the drunk people in the club and find yourselves in a cab. Lando’s hand made a home on your thigh and you didn’t mind. It felt warm, secure and turned you on when he inched it closer to the hem of your dress.

Time flew fast in the company of a race winner, especially one as charming and attractive as Lando. You didn’t realise how many hours had passed after you had left the club and, frankly, you didn’t really care.

The moments spent with him felt somehow nostalgic, as if you had felt this way before. But you’re sure you just dreamt it. There’s no way you’ve met Lando before and didn’t remember it.

It felt silly to think that, so you just ignored that thought and continued watching the intoxicating way his lips moved as he spoke. He’s been talking about something for the past five minutes and you didn’t hear a word of it, being far too focused on the pattern of his freckles, the dip of his nose and the gentleness of his eyes when he looked at you.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked, voice gentle and cautious.

You bit back a smile, eyes flickering between his eyes and lips. “You.”

The nostalgic feeling snuck its way into the back of your mind when he kissed you, his lips and hands feeling like a long lost home. You somehow already knew the melody of his breathing and the pattern of his hair, the familiarity of his kiss starting a fire in your chest. You felt the warmth of his lust spread through your torso, creeping up your neck, softly toying with the giggle in your throat.

Stars spackled on the inside of your eyelids and the harmonious sounds leaving your lips finally drew you back to that night.

Warm hands. Gentle strokes and soft kisses. Careful fingertips trailing their way down your hips. Lando’s tongue danced on your aching bud and you felt the whole world fade away. The mere touch of his fingers on your hips to keep you still reminded you of the last time.

“Mmh, fuck.” Lando hummed against you, the vibrations sending bolts of lightning through your veins. “So good. So fucking good for me, y/n.”

His tongue swirled around your throbbing clit, bringing you that much closer to the edge. The alcohol in your system mixed with the pleasure coursing through your body was a lethal combination. Your legs shook as you felt your walls close around nothing, Lando’s mouth attached to you as if he was a starved man and you were the first thing he could get his mouth on.

“I’m- I-” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before making a mess all over his goatee. He licked up every last bit of you, the sweet taste of you making a perfect combination with the aftertaste of whiskey in the back of his throat.

You stayed lying there, eyes fluttering closed and lips parted, deep breaths inflating your chest. Lando watched you, green eyes soaking in every inch of you— he wasn’t sure if you’d remember him this time, so he made the most of every moment spent with you.

After a while of him watching you, you felt Lando get up and come back in a few minutes, a damp towel in his hands. He touched your most sensitive parts with the weight of nothing, carefulness sewn into every movement he made. At that point, you were drifting in and out of consciousness, not fully knowing when the bed dipped under Lando’s weight again.

You felt his arms wrap around you and pull you in, the warmth of his bare skin heating your cheek. You were hesitant to speak, cautious as to not say something wrong. So, instead of speaking, you lifted your head and connected your lips with his again, the minty taste of his lips making you smile.

“It was you.”

Lando hummed into the kiss, as if to acknowledge that it was him, but also to ask what you meant.

You pulled away, fingers immediately making home in his curls. “That night.” A familiar look painted itself across Lando’s face. “I tried so hard to remember whose lips felt like home, and only the weight of yours reminded me.”

“You were thinking about me?” Lando inquired, brushing stray strands of hair away from your face.

You nodded. “Every day since that night.”

Lando smiled before kissing you again. “You never left my mind. I kept reminiscing that night, waiting for fate to magically bring us back to one another.” He whispered against your hairline, lips pressing soft, love-filled kisses against your skin. “Didn’t expect to win two prizes in one day.”

A small laugh slipped past your lips. “What a lucky man you are, Mr. Norris.”

“The luckiest.” He hummed. “Because I finally have you.”

[chanranghaeys]

📝 here, there, and everywhere

This journal belongs to: me. If found, please contact this number. (And please do not read it—unless you want to read the ramblings of a person who fails to deny their feelings for a certain someone.)

pairing: lee chan x gn!reader word count: 2.5k+ genre: fluff for (belated) happy chan day and carat day! rating: pg tags: college friends, they grew up, time skips between entries, mutual pining, happy (open) ending, stream of consciousness, excessive italics, please read the whole thing as if it were a private journal of sorts warnings: mentions of alcohol, death of a family member (brief mention, off the page)

a/n: this is a self-indulgent piece on my ultimate crush and the love of my (kpop) life, lee chan. i can’t keep denying you, so here we go. in an alternate universe, you would’ve been my best friend that i loved to hate and hated to love, until one of us finally gave in to our feelings and hoped for the best. happy birthday chan! you’ve given me nothing but color in my life ever since i became a carat. i wish you all the beautiful flower paths ahead ✨

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ masterlist . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Dear Chan,

You must think me pathetic if you ever found one of these letters.

It sucks…this little crush I’ve discovered I have on you. And I am only saying this ONCE on the page. And to no one else. Because when you talk about a crush, it only grows, right?

So I'll just talk about it to myself.

I hate crushes because they are so unexplainable. They’re unexplainable feelings that latch on to you so hard and never let you go until you fumble and mess up and just make an utter fool of yourself.

I first found out I had a crush on you last month.

I had long admired you from afar through your dancing. You’re beautiful when you dance—in the zone, focused, bursting with energy. I’m genuinely jealous of how you can do the things you do with your body, how you tell such beautiful stories with every little move you make.

But it was that time during a production runthrough—the simultaneous evaluations—where you made that one mistake almost fatal to your team on that one sequence you spent weeks perfecting.

Yet there you were onstage, just laughing it off. So instead of your team being anxious or frustrated, they just laughed along with you.

It turned out to be the best performance of the night, your laughing played off as banter and camaraderie by the guest audiences.

That’s when I first felt the intense grip of this thing called feelings on my poor little heart.

Absolutely disgusting.

Anyway.

This “writing letters I'll never send to you” is all just for me to really process all these feelings I’ve discovered for you. No other reason aside from that. In my head, this is a form of acknowledgment so I can easily get over whatever this is.

So yeah. Feelings. A crush. On you—someone younger than me—of all people. I can’t believe it.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

We were crossing the street when you suddenly held my hand. You did that to pull me to the other side of the road farther from the direction of the car.

“Be careful,” you said.

I shouldn’t feel special. Maybe you do this with everyone else anyway.

I hate how I can’t help but feel just a teensy bit special. Indulge me on this.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I hate how you’re so stubborn. I hate how you’re so passionate. I hate how you’re such an amazing dancer. If I didn’t know better, I’d be so goddamn jealous of you.

Well, maybe I already am.

But above all that, I feel so in awe of you.

I hate how amazing you are in everything you do.

I hate how you’re actually inspiring me to be a better person. Little by little.

You’re inspiring me to be more diligent, to work harder, to believe in myself and my artistry way more than I ever thought I could—even through the infinite doubts.

Because that’s what you do to me.

“You can do it!” you said. “I’ll be right in the audience cheering for you, too. Because you’re my number one supporter, I’ll also be your number one supporter.”

I hate how you’re right. Why do you always have to be right?

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I don’t get it. I really don’t.

I don’t understand why you would do such things to me and for me.

It was such a simple and offhand remark.

“Is that a new necklace?” you asked.

“Nah,” I replied.

“It’s pretty. I don’t usually see you wearing that necklace. Where's the other one? The silver one with the daisy pendants?”

It was only because that one—my favorite one—broke and I didn’t have the time to have it fixed yet. Too busy with org scheds.

And you know what you said?

“Give it to me. I’ll have it fixed.”

What in the actual—

You didn’t have to do it, Chan.

Yet there I was, handing over my most prized possession...to you, my...friend.

You better give it back to me fixed, or else.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

We’re in the library pretending to study for this godforsaken exam. I’ve practically given up on it.

(lol just kidding I can’t do that)

So we’re on a break. You’re sitting right in front of me, writing something down in your own notebook. Good thing the tables are a bit wide. I really wish that you won’t be able to see your name plastered on top of this page.

I never pegged you for someone who writes. In my head, I will take this as my own influence over you after my constant stories of how journaling and writing is such a simple thing that can heal you so easily and thoroughly.

Maybe my influence, and Seungkwan’s as well. At least he’s a good influence.

It was so funny, even, how you made a huge show of showcasing your little black notebook. When you opened it, I saw that it was already bookmarked at the halfway point.

So you do write. You have been writing.

Stop making my crush on you grow. Stop.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

You were so drunk last night. I don’t think you’ll remember any of it today.

But I remember everything crystal clear.

You’ve had how many bottles of soju at that point. You slung your arm around me and leaned your head on my shoulder. Never mind how fast my heart was beating at that point. Whether from alcohol, or you know what, I will never know.

You told me, “You’re my best friend. You know that, right?”

Your best friend.

A friend.

A stake to the heart would’ve hurt less, in my opinion.

But then again, better a best friend than nothing at all.

I wish I was as drunk as you were last night. Maybe I could forget that one sentence and just carry on living as if this thing between us is nothing.

As if us holding hands the entire night last night under the guise of you “needing a steady hand to hold so you wouldn't fall because you were drunk as hell” is no indication of any thing.

Whatever this thing is.

Sincerely,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I promised not to write anymore—believe me I tried. We’re best friends, right?

Best friends meet up for breakfast before going separate ways for the day, right?

Best friends make sure to ask if you’re home at the end of every day, right?

Best friends have random snacks or your go-to pick-me-up drink delivered to you when they know you’re having a terrible day, right?

Best friends do that, right?

Even if they’re both in separate relationships already?

I’m so confused. I shouldn’t be, but I can’t make it make sense.

Maybe it’s just me and these lingering and unresolved feelings. I hate them.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

Thank you for meeting me as soon as I called. Thank you for holding me as my world fell apart. Thank you for comforting me even as my tears fell. Thank you for being reliable. Thank you for giving me my comfort ice cream. Thank you for helping me through this breakup even though I know you’re on the brink of your own.

Thank you for being a friend—my friend.

Thank you for always catching me whenever I fall.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I’m sorry about the breakup…or am I?

I’m not too sad about it, I’m sorry. I always knew they were a bit off for you. But I hope I’ve been the right kind of friend that you need right now.

Or however you need me. I'll be here for you, the same way you were for me. You know that right?

I know you held back a few tears when we were at the cafe earlier. You loved them, for sure. I know how far you go for love—that's how true your love is.

But you should've seen the look in your eyes. It tells me you’re not too too sad about it either.

Or maybe it’s just me.

Yeah, definitely just me.

Maybe it was more of me wanting to see the spark in your eyes again after you kept denying that it had been gone for so long.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

You should've seen your face earlier. It was so…

With all of your hip-hop and R&B playlists, I never pegged you to be one to appreciate any of the oldies.

“This is my favorite Beatles song,” I said.

You immediately stopped scrolling the phone hidden behind the book reading the book in your hand to listen to “Here, There, and Everywhere” playing from the cafe's tinny speakers, straining to make it out above the chatter of the establishment.

You said you'll pull up the lyrics to read, and as you did, the smile on your face grew ever so slowly with every word that your eyes traveled to. You started to slightly bob your head to the beat while mouthing some of the lyrics as the song continued on.

Okay, fine, I was watching you. You didn't notice anyway.

“It’s a great song,” you said. You looked up with this sense of meaning in your eyes. I feel like mine had a look of question marks in them.

Your fingers danced on your phone. I’m sure you added it to one of your playlists. Well, I hope.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

This is the last letter I’ll write. I promise.

It’s graduation tomorrow. If you give me nothing and nothing happens within the next month of tomorrow, I will stop this nonsense and maybe try to finally get over these feelings I seem to have for you.

Whatever it is.

I just…don’t think I can bring myself to do it first.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

This is so random but you just suddenly crossed my mind. And I remembered this notebook full of so-called "unsent letters to you."

I wonder how you are and if you're doing okay. I don't know why we grew apart after graduation. I just...I don't know. I can't even think about it without my head aching.

It does kind of feel like there's a hollow void in the shape of you somewhere in my body, particularly somewhere around my chest area.

(nope, I won't say it)

I hope you're doing alright.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I can’t believe you came. It's been five years since we saw each other, three since we last spoke, yet you came—the person I least expected to see in the wake.

I never thought there'd be another letter but how could I not write anything?

I didn’t realize how painful and heavy it was to lose my grandfather until you hugged me. You were the first one to see my tears. You were the only one brave enough to hold my broken pieces without caring if you'd get cut by my sharp edges.

How you were able to do it even after all these years will forever be a mystery to me.

Thank you for catching me before I further shattered myself.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I’m still reeling from recent events.

It was so nice to see you again last night, though. Thanks for dragging me out of my apartment. It’s been so long since we went out like that, just for some frozen yogurt, which naturally turned into a few drinks because after all, it’s still the two of us together.

But good lord help me, I’m still in a daze. How can I be normal when I just dropped the biggest truth bomb of my life thus far?

I told you, “Maybe I’ve always wondered what it would be like if we ever tried before.”

But you know what you said? You know what you frickin’ said?

“I wish you told me earlier. Why didn’t you?”

Well, why didn’t you??????

I swear I could’ve combusted on the spot if I could. I swear I just said that so I could finally let go of this weight from my chest.

But you know what you did?

You walked me home. You made sure I was safe.

And then you visited this morning with coffee and breakfast to nurse the drinks from last night.

You’re just outside my room right now, sitting on my small couch, playing Beatles songs from the speakers. You’re waiting for me to finish whatever I’m doing here because you’re taking me out to see this movie I told you I wanted to watch. Why?

“We have to make up for lost time,” you said.

Chan, what are you doing? Just tell me so I know what I should do.

What do I do with you now?

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Happy Chan Day!

I hate you.

I wish you told me about your party earlier! I mean, even hours earlier, not like an hour or two right before.

Okay, I know it’s a spontaneous birthday party and all—I GET IT. But please tell your friends to at least invite your other friends beforehand? So we can also prep stuff for you, okay? I moved around so many schedules for this—for your party. How could I not?

So I hope you’ll forgive me for not preparing your gift yet. I was planning to get it in the coming days when my sched was relatively freer. Still, I’m really, truly sorry for not getting you a gift. I know you like getting gifts because you like giving them as well.

You know, it’s your birthday, yet you were the one who said something that was almost like a gift to me.

You said, “Don’t bother with the gift. As long as you’re here with me, I don’t really need anything else.”

Chan, I still hate you. I think.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I’ve come to the harrowing realization that I’m in love with you.

No scratch that. I love you. Throughout all these years, I’ve always loved you.

How’s that for a hit-me-with-a-firetruck realization?

Yours truly (I wish),

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

Do not laugh at me. Do not be condescending. Do not dismiss me—your best friend. Do not leave me hanging. Just…do not.

When I show you this, just don’t.

Just read it.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Hey, you.

If only you knew how many pages I’ve written about you. Glad to know I’m not the only one doing so.

It started on that day we were in the library. I’d already written about so many things, but that was the first time I ever wrote about you. I’ve never stopped writing since.

And even in pages full of you writing about me, I still write about you.

You’ve always been here, there, and everywhere to me.

Yours, truly and only yours,

Chan

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

NOW PLAYING: seventeen's playlist - song # 2

“To lead a better life / I need my love to be here // … // Will be there and everywhere / Here, there and everywhere”

[mingi-s-dimples]

Dear Diary... - San

~"Hi love hope you’re doing well✨ Ive read your San kitten fic and I enjoyed it 😀tremendously 🔥. Now If it’s ok with you (I couldn’t find it in your blog that if you’re ok with this kink or nah) to write [cnc+ dirty talk and corruption kink]with San?? And if not cnc anything that comes from authority figures of him. Pls plssss ignore this if it’s makes you uncomfortable ❤️🍓" ~ queen I haven't written cnc corruption kink in my life. I hope I got the idea, even the slightest 😞.

pairing: san x fem!reader

genre: 18+

summary: san read your little journal.. and that ends with you screaming his name.

wc: 5.6k

warnings: dom!san, big dick!san, he eats her out, dirty talk, some cnc + corruption kink (he kinda softly makes her submit to it when he reads her diary + he doesn't care that she's a virgin and he actually encourages it even more so i guess it works? i'm so sorry i never wrote corruption kink before i promise i'll do better 😞💖), she's a virgin, neck holding and softly choking, marking all over, mamhandling, vaginal sex, he doesn't fuck he pounds, multiple orgasms, she screams out his name duh, some crumb of aftercare, cockwarming, unprotected (she's supposedly on bc but booo use protection!), unedited might edit later, for sure forgot something, completely consensual (after he makes her submit to him!)

Author's Note: woahhhh I haven't wrote in a while ngl. Felt good to be back.. sorry for not posting 😞. Life updates: Had 3 exams and I almost failed one but upsies it's maths 💀, had a bf for 3 days cause he acted weird and he said I'm his everything and that he loves me and that he can't be without me and I was like brotha ew we've been tgt for 3 days... and he got offended and unfollowed me everywhere 💀 boys these days... (i sound like a 70yo granma). Anyways I hope I'll post way more these days! There are only two exams to go, one this Friday and one this Saturday (for tutoring!) so I'll disappear again until Saturday night 🧍‍♀️ but I'll post on Sunday ! everyone cheer pls. Love youuuuuu allll

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member in any way.

The rich scent of steak still lingered in the air, mingling with the faint remnants of laughter and conversation from earlier in the evening. Your small apartment felt quieter now, with only the faint hum of the fridge and the occasional clink of San’s beer bottle against the counter breaking the silence.

The others had left hours ago, leaving just you and him—like it so often did. You couldn’t even remember how it had started, the unspoken rule that San always stuck around longer than anyone else, as if this place belonged to him as much as it did to you.

“You’re really not going to let those dishes wait until tomorrow, are you?” he asked, leaning against the kitchen counter with a smirk. The casual authority in his tone was infuriatingly familiar, yet somehow impossible to ignore.

You glanced at him over your shoulder, rolling your eyes as you stacked the last plate. “And let me guess—you’re going to stand there, drinking your beer, and not help.”

“Exactly.” His grin widened, infuriating and so utterly *him.* “I’ve got my role down. Yours is to overachieve and keep pretending you don’t have OCD about cleaning up after people.”

“I do not—” you started, only to cut yourself off with a sigh. There was no winning with San.

Instead, you gave him a look, grabbed the last of the plates, and disappeared down the hall toward the bathroom. “Try not to break anything while I’m gone,” you called back over your shoulder.

“Don’t worry,” he drawled. “I’ll keep myself entertained.”

San watched you go, waiting until the sound of the bathroom door clicking shut echoed faintly down the hallway. Then his attention drifted lazily around the room.

Your apartment was familiar in a way that made it feel like a second home—organized chaos, with books, mismatched blankets, and stray notebooks scattered across every available surface. It was the kind of place that felt lived-in, every corner a reflection of your mind: half-stressed, half-dreaming.

It was a notebook on the coffee table that caught his eye.

It wasn’t hidden, exactly. Half-tucked under a glossy magazine, its leather cover gleamed faintly in the low light. The word *Private* was written neatly across the front in a handwriting he’d recognize anywhere—yours.

A slow grin spread across his face. “Private, huh?” he murmured, setting his beer down and reaching for the notebook.

He flipped it open, expecting to find the usual: to-do lists, random doodles, or the same kind of perfectly planned schedules you’d been making since grade school. But instead, his eyes landed on something else.

*Sometimes I wonder what it would feel like to lose control completely. To have someone take charge and make me do things I’d never admit I want. Things I’d never say out loud...*

San froze, his grin fading as his eyes skimmed over the words. The meaning hit him slowly, like a low-burning flame that spread heat through his chest and settled somewhere.. lower.

*...to be pinned down, held in place, unable to fight back but not really wanting to. To have someone whisper filthy things in my ear and tell me how much they love seeing me fall apart under their control...*

He swallowed hard, his grip on the notebook tightening as he kept reading. The words painted vivid pictures in his mind—images he’d never dared associate with you before, no matter how many times his teasing had drifted close to the edge.

But this was different. This wasn’t teasing. This was your handwriting, your fantasies laid bare on the pages in front of him.

And the worst—or maybe the best—part? He couldn’t stop reading.

The sound of the bathroom door opening snapped him out of it. He quickly snapped the notebook shut, placing it back on the coffee table just as you stepped into the room.

When your eyes landed on him, standing far too close to the coffee table, your expression immediately shifted. Suspicion flickered across your face, followed by alarm as you spotted the notebook.

“No,” you breathed, your voice almost a whisper. “San... Tell me you didn’t.”

He arched a brow, leaning casually against the arm of the couch as if nothing had happened. “Didn’t what?”

Your stomach twisted. “You didn’t read that, did you?”

He shrugged, the corner of his mouth curving into a smirk. “You left it out in plain sight, sweetheart. Hard not to be curious.”

“San!” Your voice rose in a mix of panic and mortification as you rushed over, snatching the notebook off the table. You clutched it to your chest, your cheeks burning so hot you could feel the heat spreading to your neck.

He watched you with infuriating calm, his dark eyes gleaming with something you couldn’t quite name. “Relax,” he said, his tone deceptively soothing. “It’s not like I read the whole thing.”

Your heart sank. “What... what did you read?”

San pushed off the couch and stepped closer, closing the space between you with deliberate ease. He stopped just inches away, towering over you in that way that always made you feel small—and not entirely in a bad way.

“Enough to know you’ve got some... interesting thoughts rattling around in that head of yours,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Care to explain?”

You shook your head, mortified. “No. Absolutely not. You shouldn’t have—”

“Shouldn’t have what?” he interrupted, his tone sharpening just slightly. “Picked it up? Read it? Or are you just embarrassed that I know now?”

You glared at him, though your resolve was already wavering. “This isn’t funny, San.”

His smirk faded, replaced by something darker, more serious. “Who said I’m joking?”

He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Maybe it’s time someone gave you what you’ve been asking for.”

The room felt too small, the air too thick. Your lips parted, but no sound came out. You couldn’t bring yourself to say the word, even though you knew you should.

San’s smirk returned, slow and deliberate.

“Mhm-” he murmured, his voice heavy with unspoken intent.

His gaze lingered on you, sharp and assessing, as if he could see through every feeble defense you were trying to put up. The notebook still clutched against your chest felt like a useless shield, doing nothing to block the heat of his presence or the weight of his words.

“Not going to tell me to stop?” he asked, the challenge clear in his tone. “Guess that means you don’t want me to.”

You swallowed hard, your heart hammering in your chest. “This is not funny, San,” you whispered, though even you could hear the lack of conviction in your voice.

“Funny? Not even a little.” He stepped closer, his eyes glinting with something darker. “But it is fascinating. You, scribbling all those dirty thoughts down like a good little secret-keeper, acting all innocent around me—who would’ve guessed?”

“Stop,” you said, the word trembling as it left your lips.

“Why?” His brow arched in amusement, though his voice remained low and intent. “Does it make you uncomfortable? Or is it hitting a little too close to home?”

Before you could answer—or even think of a response—he reached out, plucking the notebook from your hands with maddening ease.

“San!” you exclaimed, reaching for it, but he held it out of reach, his grin never faltering.

“Let’s see,” he said, flipping it open again as your heart dropped into your stomach. “Ah, here it is... *I want to be taken—rough, merciless, made to feel like I can’t get enough.*” He glanced at you, his smirk widening at the audible hitch in your breath. “Quite the vivid imagination you’ve got there, sweetheart.”

“Give it back!” you said, your voice cracking.

“Why?” He shifted the notebook to his other hand, holding it out of reach. “Are you scared because I know how badly you want this?”

Your knees felt weak as he stepped closer, invading your space with the kind of confidence that left you feeling unmoored.

“You’re such an ass,” you muttered, trying and failing to glare at him.

“Maybe,” he said with a shrug, his grin sharpening. “But at least I’m honest. You? Not so much.”

San’s free hand brushed against your jaw, his touch light but firm, sending a shiver down your spine.

“You’re blushing,” he observed, his voice teasing but softer. “Is it embarrassment? Ouu, is it.. something else?”

“San,” you said, his name coming out more like a plea than a protest.

“What?” he asked, tilting his head as his thumb traced along your jawline. “Can’t take the heat?”

You shook your head, but you didn’t pull away. You couldn’t.

He chuckled, low and satisfied. “Thought so.”

Without warning, his hand slid to the back of your neck, his grip firm as he pulled you closer. His other hand dropped the notebook onto the couch, freeing him to let his fingers trail down your arm, light enough to make you shiver.

“You know what I think?” he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky murmur.

You shook your head, your breath uneven.

“I think you’ve been waiting for someone to see past all that sweet, good-girl bullshit,” he continued, his thumb brushing along the line of your jaw, “and call you what you really are.”

Your heart slammed against your ribs, the words lodging in your throat. “San...”

His grip on your neck tightened slightly, enough to make you gasp. “What’s wrong? Don’t like hearing it? Or do you like it too much?”

The way your thighs pressed together didn’t escape his notice, and his grin sharpened.

“You’re easy to read,” he said softly, his voice thick with satisfaction. “You’ve been wanting this for a while, haven’t you?”

Your lips parted, a faint whimper escaping before you could stop it.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his fingers slipping lower to trace the curve of your waist. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Your breath hitched as his lips hovered near yours, the air between you crackling with tension. He didn’t kiss you, but the sheer proximity left you trembling.

“You can tell me to stop,” he said again, his voice rough but steady. “One word, sweetheart, and I’ll walk away.”

You opened your mouth, but the words wouldn’t come.

San’s grin returned, slower and more deliberate. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

His free hand skimmed the bare skin above your waistband, teasing and slow, and you felt your knees buckle slightly.

“You’ve been waiting for someone to push you,” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, “to see how far you’ll let them go. Haven’t you?”

You couldn’t answer, your breath coming in shallow gasps.

San leaned back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes searching yours. “Say the word,” he said quietly. “And I’ll stop.”

Your silence said everything, and his lips curved into a smirk.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, his voice low and full of promise.

His free hand skimmed the bare skin above your waistband, teasing and slow, and you felt your knees buckle slightly.

Before you could process his words, his hands were on you again—fast, firm, deliberate. His grip was steady as he lifted you effortlessly, as though you weighed nothing at all. A gasp escaped you, your hands instinctively clutching his shoulders, but the smirk never left his face.

“You wrote about this, didn’t you?” San teased, his voice dripping with amusement as he carried you across the room. “Right there in your little journal. I had no idea you had such... vivid thoughts.”

He dropped you on the bed. San stood at the edge of it, arms crossed, his dark eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and control. You were there, sprawled across the mattress, your chest heaving from the tension that hung heavy between you. The heat of your earlier argument still simmered in the air, but now the power had shifted entirely into his hands—and you both knew it.

“You’ve been quiet ever since,” San murmured, his voice low and mocking as he stepped closer, each movement slow and deliberate. “What’s the matter, sweetheart? Not so bold now that I know what’s been running through that pretty little head of yours?”

Your gaze darted away, heat creeping up your neck, but San wasn’t having it. He climbed onto the bed in one smooth motion, his weight sinking the mattress as he caged you beneath him. One hand pressed into the sheets beside your head, while the other traced the curve of your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

“Don’t even think about hiding from me now,” he said softly, the mockery in his tone laced with undeniable command. “Not after everything you wrote. Not after you left me to read between the lines of those fantasies you scribbled down so... shamelessly.”

Your breath hitched, and you pressed your thighs together instinctively, which only made his smirk widen.

“I have to admit,” he continued, leaning closer until his lips were brushing the shell of your ear, “I didn’t know you could be *this* filthy. Wanting to be manhandled? Thrown around? Tamed?” His breath was warm against your skin, his tone both teasing and heavy with promise. “Tell me, did you ever imagine I’d actually do it?”

“I-..” You shuddered beneath him, your fingers curling into the sheets as you struggled to form a response. But San was relentless, his hand trailing down to your throat, his grip firm but not restricting as he tilted your head up toward him.

“Don’t play dumb now,” he whispered, his gaze locking with yours. “You knew exactly what you were doing when you left that journal out. When you wrote about how badly you wanted someone to take control. To leave you breathless, shaking… *ruined.*”

You swallowed hard, the air between you thick with tension, and he chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through you.

“Admit it,” he murmured, his lips brushing your jawline, his hand still firm on your throat. “Admit that you’ve been waiting for me to push you like this. That you wanted me to see *every* word of it.”

“I—” your voice faltered, trembling under the weight of his intensity. “Mh..mhm” you were only able to mumble some word.

His fingers loosened just enough to stroke the column of your neck. “Good girl.”

He leaned back just slightly, enough to drink in the sight of you beneath him, flushed and trembling. His grin was wicked as he reached for your wrists, pinning them above your head with a grip that left no room for resistance.

“Now,” he murmured, lowering himself until his lips hovered mere inches from yours, “let’s see if you’re ready to live up to everything you wrote, sweetheart.”

Your head tilted back against the mattress, and the tension in the room thickened until it was nearly suffocating. The way San hovered above you, all sharp grins and teasing touches, had you trembling with anticipation. But as his words replayed in your mind, something inside you snapped.

“Fuck it,” you muttered, your voice shaky but certain. “You’ve already read it. You know exactly what I want.”

San’s brow arched, his smirk sharpening as he leaned in closer, his nose brushing yours. “Oh? And what’s that, sweetheart?”

You swallowed hard, your pulse hammering in your ears. “You. All of you. No teasing, no holding back.” Your voice softened, almost a whisper now. “Please.”

San let out a low chuckle, his dark gaze flickering with amusement and something darker—something primal. “You’re begging now?” he mused, his tone rich with satisfaction. “Didn’t think I’d get to hear that so soon.”

“I’m serious,” you said, your breath hitching as his thumb brushed your jawline. “No going back now. Just—just fuck me, San.”

His grin widened, and for a moment, he just stared at you, as though savoring the sight of you so vulnerable beneath him. Then, with deliberate ease, he sat back and tugged his shirt over his head in one swift motion, the fabric landing somewhere behind him.

You couldn’t help it; your eyes roamed over his toned chest, the sharp lines of muscle catching the dim light. Your breath caught, and he didn’t miss the way your eyes roamed.

“Like what you see?” he teased, his voice dripping with confidence as he reached for the hem of your shirt. He didn’t wait for an answer, peeling the fabric off your body just as effortlessly. His gaze swept over you, slow and deliberate, and you shivered under the intensity of it.

“Perfect,” he murmured, almost to himself, before his hands moved to your waistband. His fingers made quick work of the button and zipper, sliding your pants down your legs with maddening precision.

But then he stopped.

Stepping back, he straightened to his full height, his hands already moving to unbuckle his own belt. The metallic clink of it sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away as he worked.

He was slow—so agonizingly slow—pulling the leather free and tossing it aside before unbuttoning his pants. The sharp sound of his zipper being undone felt deafening in the charged silence, and the deliberate pace had your heart racing.

“Enjoying the show?” he asked, his voice smug as he slid the denim down his hips, revealing inch after inch of skin.

You didn’t answer, too captivated by the sight of him to form a coherent thought. Your gaze locked onto him, your chest rising and falling with shallow breaths, and you could feel the heat pooling low in your stomach as desire overtook every part of you.

“Thought so,” he murmured, stepping closer, his smirk never fading. “You just can’t get enough, can you?”

You shook your head, your lips parting slightly as you stared up at him with nothing but raw, unfiltered lust. “Not even close.”

His laugh was deep, rumbling, and utterly intoxicating. “Good,” he said simply, lowering himself back onto the bed, his body hovering over yours. “Because I’m just getting started.”

San crawled over you with the precision of a predator closing in on its prey, his movements slow and deliberate, his gaze locked onto yours. His weight pressed into the mattress, pinning you in place as he leaned in, his lips hovering over yours, teasing but not yet giving.

One of his hands wrapped firmly around your neck, the pressure just enough to remind you who was in control. The way his thumb brushed against the side of your throat made your breath hitch, a soft gasp escaping you as your body instinctively arched toward him.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “Already falling apart, and I haven’t even kissed you yet.”

His other hand was down around his cock, his movements slow, lazy, and unhurried as he stroked himself. The subtle motion made your mouth go dry, your gaze flickering downward for a split second before snapping back up to meet his. The heat in his eyes was unbearable, and yet you couldn’t look away, couldn’t stop the way your body responded to the tension crackling between you.

San smirked at your reaction, his thumb pressing slightly harder against your neck as he brought his lips closer, brushing them lightly against yours. It wasn’t a kiss—not really—but the sensation was enough to send a jolt of electricity straight through you.

Then, just as you started to lean up, desperate for more, the hand from his cock moved. Slowly, almost torturously, he trailed it from himself to your thigh. His fingers brushed against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine, before he hooked his hand under your leg and spread it out beneath him.

“Perfect,” he murmured, his voice a low rasp as his palm pressed against the inside of your knee, holding you open with deliberate ease. “Just like I imagined.”

You swallowed hard, your breath catching as he leaned in closer, his lips finally crashing against yours. The kiss was searing, hungry, and consuming, his hand still firm on your throat as he claimed you completely. Your mind was spinning, your body surrendering to the heat of him, to the way he dominated every inch of your senses.

His grip on your neck tightened slightly, grounding you as his thumb brushed along the curve of your jaw. The other hand remained on your leg, his thumb stroking lazy circles on your skin as he shifted his weight, pressing himself closer.

“You’re mine now,” he muttered against your lips, his voice rough and commanding. “No running, no hiding. I’m going to make sure you don’t forget it.”

Your only response was a soft whimper, your hands reaching for him, desperate to pull him closer. And San, ever the tease, chuckled low in his throat, his lips moving to your jaw as he whispered, “Good girl.”

As San’s lips devoured yours, leaving you breathless and pliant beneath him, a quiet confession slipped out before you could stop it.

“I’ve never done this before,” you whispered, your voice trembling and almost lost in the heat of the moment.

San stilled for just a second, his head tilting slightly as he looked down at you, processing your words. The smirk that crept onto his lips was slow and deliberate, a mix of surprise and amusement lighting up his dark eyes.

“You’re a virgin?” he asked, his tone low, curious, and laced with disbelief. “After everything you wrote in that journal?”

Your cheeks burned, and you couldn’t meet his gaze, but you nodded, swallowing hard. “I... I just—”

He didn’t let you finish. His grip on your neck remained firm as his free hand slid up your thigh again, spreading you out even further beneath him. “So what?” he murmured, leaning in close, his breath warm against your ear. “You think that changes anything?”

Your heart pounded as his lips brushed against the shell of your ear, his voice taking on a deeper, more commanding edge. “You want this, don’t you?”

You nodded quickly, unable to form words, and his smirk deepened.

“Good,” he said softly, almost mockingly. “Then I’ll make sure your first time is something you’ll *never* forget.”

He didn’t wait for a reply. His lips crashed against yours again, hungry and consuming, stealing the breath from your lungs. His kisses grew rougher, more possessive, as though he was claiming you in every sense of the word.

When he finally pulled away, your chest was heaving, your lips swollen, and he wasted no time. His mouth trailed down the curve of your jaw, leaving open-mouthed kisses that turned into light nips. His tongue soothed each bite, sending shivers down your spine as he moved lower, down the column of your throat.

“You’re mine now,” he murmured against your skin, his voice dark and dripping with authority. “You understand that, don’t you?”

“Y-yes,” you whispered, your voice trembling with both nervousness and desire.

His kisses continued, his teeth grazing over the soft curve of your collarbone before he bit down gently, just enough to make you gasp. The sharpness of it sent a jolt through your body, and you arched into him, your hands clutching at his shoulders.

“Such a good girl,” he muttered, the praise making your stomach flip as he moved lower. His lips and teeth marked a path down your body, every kiss, every bite leaving a faint bloom of heat behind. He was methodical, deliberate, as though he wanted to cover every inch of your skin.

When he reached your hips, his hands gripped your thighs, spreading them further apart as he settled himself between them. His lips ghosted over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, his breath warm and teasing.

“Right here,” he murmured, his voice dark with promise as his fingers gripped your leg firmly, keeping you pinned in place. “This is where you’re going to feel me the most. Where I’m going to leave my mark.”

You gasped softly, and before you could respond, his teeth sank into the tender skin of your inner thigh, hard enough to sting but not enough to hurt. The sensation was intoxicating, his tongue soothing the bite immediately after, and the combination left you trembling beneath him.

San pulled back slightly, his lips curving into a satisfied smirk as he looked up at you. “You’re already shaking,” he teased, his hands gripping your hips to hold you steady. “You’re going to fall apart for me, sweetheart. And you’re going to love every second of it.”

Your hands instinctively found their way to his hair, your fingers tangling in the soft strands as he hovered over your inner thighs, his breath ghosting over the sensitive skin. The way he teased you—his lips brushing so close but never where you wanted them—had your body trembling with anticipation.

San chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin as he tilted his head up to look at you. His smirk was infuriatingly smug, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement.

“Impatient, huh?” he drawled, his voice low and teasing as he gave your thigh a gentle squeeze. “Can’t wait to have me, can you?”

You whimpered softly, your grip on his hair tightening just enough to pull a satisfied laugh from him.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he murmured, his tone darkening as he settled himself between your legs. “I won’t make you wait any longer. Let’s see how loud I can make you.”

And with that, he dove in.

His lips pressed against your clit, hot and unrelenting, and a sharp gasp escaped your lips as your back arched off the mattress. The first touch of his tongue was slow and deliberate, a languid stroke that left you breathless.

San wasted no time after that, his mouth working against it with a precision that had your head spinning. His hands gripped your thighs, keeping you pinned in place as he devoured you, his tongue flicking and swirling in ways that sent shivers racing down your spine.

“You taste so good,” he murmured against you, his voice muffled but still thick with satisfaction. “Even better than I imagined.”

You couldn’t respond—not with the way he was overwhelming your senses, reducing you to gasps and whimpers as he found every sensitive spot. Your hands tightened in his hair, and he groaned at the pressure, the vibrations only adding to the fire building inside you.

San pulled back just enough to press a kiss against your inner thigh, his lips swollen and glistening. “Don’t hold back,” he murmured, his voice rough and commanding. “I want to hear everything. Every moan, every gasp—let me hear how much you need me.”

And then he was back, his mouth and tongue relentless as he brought you closer and closer to the edge, his grip on your thighs tightening as your body started to tremble beneath him. You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but surrender completely to the way he consumed you, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

Your body trembled beneath him, the overwhelming waves of pleasure crashing through you as you cried out his name, your hands still tangled in his hair. San didn’t stop until your body went slack against the mattress, leaving you breathless, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.

But he wasn’t done—not even close.

“Look at you,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to survey the sight of you sprawled beneath him, still shaking from the aftermath. His voice was low, rough, and dripping with satisfaction. “So pretty when you fall apart for me.”

Before you could respond, San moved with the kind of precision that left no room for resistance. His hands gripped your hips firmly, flipping you over onto your stomach in one fluid motion. A startled gasp escaped you, but it was quickly muffled as he pressed your face into the mattress, one hand splayed across the back of your neck, holding you in place.

“Don’t think we’re done yet,” he growled, his voice dark and commanding as he leaned over you. The heat of his bare chest against your back sent shivers down your spine, and you felt him press his hips into you, letting you feel just how ready he was.

Your heart raced as his free hand slid down your side, gripping your waist possessively. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “I hope you’re ready, sweetheart, because I’m not holding back… at all.”

His teeth grazed your earlobe, and you whimpered softly, your body arching instinctively beneath him. His voice dropped lower, the words sending a thrill through you as he murmured, “You’re mine now. Every inch of you. And I’m going to make sure you *feel* it.”

The blunt heat of him pressed against your cunt, and before you could even brace yourself, he pushed into you in one smooth, unrelenting motion. The stretch burned, but the pleasure quickly overwhelmed it, and you cried out, muffled against the mattress as he filled you completely.

San groaned low in his throat, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulled back slightly, only to slam back in with a force that made your entire body jolt. “Perfect,” he muttered, his voice rough and thick with lust as he set a relentless pace. “You feel even better than I imagined.”

The sound of skin against skin filled the room, each thrust drawing gasps and moans from you that only seemed to spur him on. He leaned over you, pressing his chest to your back as he buried himself deeper, his lips brushing against your ear.

“Take it,” he growled, his voice dripping with authority. “Every. Fucking. Inch.”

Your head spun, your senses overwhelmed by the rough, unyielding way he moved against you. His hand slid from your hip to your throat, pulling you up slightly so he could press his lips to your shoulder, his teeth sinking into your skin to leave yet another mark.

“You’re mine,” he muttered again, his voice ragged as his thrusts grew even harder, each one sending shockwaves through your body. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

“I-I'm yours..! ,” you gasped, your voice trembling as you clung to the sheets, completely lost in him.

“Good girl.. or should I say..” he murmured, his grip tightening as he drove you both closer and closer to the edge, his pace never faltering, never giving you a moment to catch your breath, “good slut?”.

His words made your cunt tighten around him, a grunt escaping his throat.

San’s pace didn’t let up for a moment, his grip firm on your waist as he powerfully ounded into you, every thrust driving you closer to another earth-shattering release. Your body trembled beneath him, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all, and he could feel the way you tightened around him, your breaths coming in ragged gasps.

“That’s it,” he growled against your ear, his voice rough and commanding as he reached one hand between your legs, his fingers finding the spot that made you jolt… your swollen clit. “Give me one more, sweetheart. Come for me again. Let me feel you.”

The combination of his relentless thrusts and the way his fingers worked you had you teetering on the edge in seconds. Your cries grew louder, the tension coiling in your stomach until it finally snapped, a powerful wave of pleasure crashing through you as you screamed his name.

“San!” you sobbed, your body shaking violently as your orgasm ripped through you, leaving you breathless and trembling beneath him.

He groaned low in his throat, his thrusts growing erratic as he chased his own. “That’s my girl,” he muttered, his grip tightening as he buried himself deep inside you, his hips stuttering as he reached his peak.

A guttural moan escaped his lips as he spilled into you, the warmth of his cum filling you completely. He didn’t pull out right away, instead leaning over you, his chest pressing against your back as he kissed your shoulder, his breath hot and uneven.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your damp skin. “You took me so well, sweetheart. Screaming my name like that... you’re so fucking perfect.”

You whimpered softly, still trembling from the aftershocks, and he smirked, his voice dropping to a darker, dirtier tone. “Bet you loved having me ruin you like this. Didn’t you, baby? All that talk about wanting to be manhandled—looks like you got exactly what you wanted.”

Before you could respond, his hand slid to your neck, gripping you firmly as he pulled you upright, your back pressing against his chest. The move made you gasp, your head falling back against his shoulder as he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze, his cock still deep inside you.

“That’s what you get for leaving your little journal unattended,” he growled, his smirk sharp and satisfied as he stared into your eyes. “I bet you loved every fucking second of it. Didn’t you?”

Your lips trembled, but you managed a breathless, “Y-yes… y-es I did..”

San’s grin widened, and he leaned in to press a lingering kiss to your temple, his grip on your neck softening as his free hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you close. “Good girl,” he murmured, his voice softer now but still carrying that edge of dominance.

He held you there for a moment, his arms wrapped tightly around you, his breath warm against your ear. “You’re mine,” he whispered, his tone gentler now, though no less possessive. “Every inch of you.”

Your hands came up to rest over his, your body leaning into his embrace as you whispered, “Always yours.”

San let out a satisfied hum, holding you close as the heat of the moment began to fade, replaced by a warmth that felt just as overwhelming. “That’s my girl,” he said softly, his lips pressing against your hair as he held you, his arms never loosening.

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

[marauder-misprint]

Friends

Series Masterlist

Sirius Black x Fem!Slytherin!reader

1.4k words

cw: fluff

When Regulus enters the common room, you emerge from your dorm, books and other study materials in hand. Now that you had your nap, you were ready to get all the homework you had been putting off done. Regulus debates telling you about Sirius now. But as he watches you spread out across a table with a determined look on your face, he decides against it. Instead, he stands at your side and leans over the table to see which subjects you’re working on.

“Divination?” he asks.

You nod. “Professor Traumine is checking our dream journals this week and I haven’t had any I actually remember… Care to help?”

“Help?” he asks hesitantly, not really sure what you’re asking of him.

“Making stuff up. What seems like something I’d dream about and then we figure out what it means using the book.” You give him a pleading look. “Please, I’m horrible at making the dreams up. I’ll figure out what they mean on my own.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Regulus pulls up a chair and reaches for the journal you have open.

“Just seeing what you’ve written before. Maybe you can have a repeat dream or something,” he explains.

Between the two of you and the occasional passing friend, you finish the dream portion of the homework fairly quickly. You laugh as you interpret the fake dreams.

“Apparently, there are several family deaths in my future. That’s what, an excuse to miss school or something?”

“Anything about relationships?” Regulus asks, testing the water. 

You give him a sideways glance. “Relationships?”

“Particularly with my brother?” 

“Regulus, I don’t want to talk about him,” you groan. 

He leans forward. “I think you should.”

“Why? What do you need to know?”

“The same question as always. What’s going on between you two?” Instead of sounding accusatory as he had in the past, Regulus sounds arrogant, like he already knows the answer but wants to hear you say it.

You shrug. “Some kind of friendship, I guess?”

Regulus doesn’t mean to, but he laughs. Loudly and uncontrollably. You stare at him with wide eyes. You can feel the eyes of other Slytherins on the two of you. You had gone from peacefully working on homework and chatting with those who stopped by your table. Now, he was making a scene.

“What the fuck, Reggie?” you hiss.

“Some kind of friendship?” he repeats back to you in between laughs. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No?” 

“Love, darling, dearest friend of mine,” Regulus starts to say, ever so slightly calming himself. “Sirius came looking for you. Pacing the dungeons, hoping to run into you. Friends?”

“Right. Friends,” you say naturally, as if you were simply confirming that there was a giant octopus in the Black Lake.

Your mind, however, starts to spin. Sirius was looking for you? After you called him attractive again, with many synonyms, to his face, in the purest tone of genuinity, without any sense of tease. After telling him he was a good time. After saying that you maybe should write to him… You curse yourself for having said so much.

“Friends,” you echo yourself despite Regulus not saying anything.

He cocks an eyebrow. “So you said.” Then he smiles wickedly. “Or are you trying to convince yourself that’s all it is?”

“Regulus,” you warn, your voice dropping low. 

“I wasn’t so sure about it before, but I think I’ve played matchmaker,” he says with a smile.

“If anyone has the right to claim matchmaker, it’s Dorcas. Or… or Lupin and Potter. Certainly not you!”

“Aha! So there is a match!”

Your face grows hot. That wasn’t how you meant for it to come out. There wasn’t a match. It was just you realizing that Sirius wasn’t too bad and you liked being around him and he was fun and attractive and he smelled nice and there was something about the way he always had cigarettes with him that he was willing to share and the way he carried himself and… Shit. 

You gather your things in a panic.

“I will, uh, erm, see you tomorrow? I… I gotta go…”

You return to your dorm and hide within the curtains of your bed. Regulus was right: someone had played matchmaker.

---

You avoid Regulus in the morning. If anyone mentions either Black or Gryffindor, you change the topic or leave the conversation. You’re more skittish than usual. You’re more flighty than usual. You can’t seem to focus on anything besides your current crisis. 

Yes, you’re calling it a crisis. 

You manage to survive the day and you’re feeling a little better. You think you’ll be able to hide in your dorm again until you completely sort out your thoughts. 

But then his voice rings down the hallway. Sirius calls out your name. 

“Hey!” he says, running up to you.

“Hi?” you reply cautiously. You didn’t know if you were ready for a conversation with him.

“I-uh, how have you been?”

“I’ve been good. Yeah… good. You?”

The air between you feels thick with things unspoken. You certainly aren’t going to acknowledge it though. You’d rather this be a quick conversation so you can keep your wits about you.

“Going a bit crazy, if I’m honest,” he says.

You raise your eyebrows and tilt your head. “Is that so? What for?”

You start to walk and Sirius immediately falls in step with you. You aren’t sure where you are going, but it feels more natural to be moving than loitering outside a classroom. Depending on where you went, it would also be easier to shake Sirius if you felt like you were actually going to lose your cool. 

“Been meaning to, wanting to talk to you.”

“Well,” you chuckle, “here I am.”

“Right. Here you are. And here I am,” he says, laughing at himself. 

You wait for him to continue.

“I… I… I’m just going to come out and say it. Yes. That’s what I’m going to do.” He swallows thickly. “I like spending time with you. A lot. And I’d like to go on another date with you. To Hogsmeade, to a quidditch game, to the kitchens, hell, I don’t care. I didn’t think I’d need to talk to Regulus again and I really want to, if you want to.”

You stop walking. You clutch your things tightly to your chest. Sirius took a few steps beyond you before realizing that you weren’t next to him anymore. He turns back to you with worry etched into his face. 

“You don’t want to, do you?” he mumbles, looking down at the ground. “I thought after what you said last weekend…”

You take a shaky breath. “No… Shit, no. I do. I mean, I’m not against it.”

SIrius looks up, his eyes sparkling with emotion. He moves closer to you as his worry slowly melts away. 

“You do?”

You nod, not trusting your words. He gently puts a hand on the side of your shoulder.

“Then why do you look like you’re about to faint?”

You take another breath. “Because… I meant what I said. After the party… And I was so hellbent on not caring for you, but, ah, here we are?” You let out a nervous chuckle and tighten your grip on your books.

“Here we are,” he repeats, his lips curling into a smile. 

“But you want to take me to a quidditch game, you’ll be waiting until next term…”

He barks a laugh. “Yeah, I’m not waiting that long. So, sneak to Hogsmeade? Picnic? Visit the kitchens? I’ll do whatever you want to. I just… I want to spend time with you.”

You press your lips into a thin line as you think. 

“How about a walk? Just like around the grounds or something. And we can stop by the kitchens after?”

He nods vigorously. His excitement is so palpable that you can’t help but smile at him.

“I’d love that.”

“Too bad Padfoot isn’t here to enjoy it though,” you tease. 

“D’you miss him?” Sirius asks with a smirk.

“I miss dogs in general. You do have a cute one though,” you say thoughtfully. 

Sirius chuckles and throws an arm around your shoulder. “I mean, if all goes well, maybe you can visit the Potters and hang out with Padfoot over break.”

“That’s… that’s some kind of wishful thinking, Black. Dunno if we’ll be there after a second date.” 

“Worth a shot,” he says. “As long as you write me.”

“With that quill you bought me? Let’s see how this walk goes first.”

“This walk? Are we doing it now?” He sounds flustered. 

“No. Salazar, no. I have assignments to do.” You pause and bite the inside of your lip. “Tomorrow after class?” 

“Tomorrow.”

tags: @2dloveshp, @yearninglustfully, @made-for-oliverwood, @ilovejamespottersomuch, @hisparentsgallerryy, @itsseaberri, @corawithfanfiction, @devilslittlehelper, @jllyunn, @barnes70stark,

tags: @crowleythesexydemon, @flow33didontsmoke, @navs-bhat, @louweenier, @l0g0phobe,

@ellouisa17, @theendofthematerialgworl, @marina468, @bmyva1entine, @ravisinghs-wife, @azure-drag0ness, @sunowee, @mysteriouslyperfecttiger

Just a warning for all of you lovely people: I think we are nearing the end of this series. I'm feeling like a max of two more chapters. Thank you for all the love y'all have shown this series - every comment/like/reblog means the world to me

[halforresterluvsford]

Saw this anon post on @kyber-shack and I had to. This started out funny but it got serious…sorry if Stan sounds too sappy here.

Enjoy! :)

-

“Stanley, have you seen my-“ Stanford Pines stops cold, barging into his and his brother’s shared room, the search for his journal forgotten.

“Stanley, No! Stop what you’re doing right this instance!” Ford yelled as he stared at the scene before him. Stanley couldn’t be so foolish as to try to use that, could he!?

“Relax, Stanford, it’s fine.” Stan waves him off, continuing to lube up small glass Christmas tree decoration.

Truly. His brother truly is that ridiculous. Stanford feels a crazed laugh bubble up his throat before he stamps it down, his right eye twitching instead. He really doesn’t want to have to take his brother to the emergency room and explain why there’s a Christmas tree up his ass.

Moses save him.

“It’s not “fine”, Stanley!” Ford does his finger quotes as offensively as possible, “It’s made of glass! It could break while inside of you! Internal bleeding is a very serious matter!” His brother is trying to kill himself, that’s the only explanation.

“It’s thick glass.” Stan had the nerve to shrug at Stanford, who’s an inch away from throttling him.

“There’s no flared base! It could get lost and travel up your colon! Think, Stanley, please. I’m begging you.” He’s so close to actually getting on his knees to plead for his brother’s sanity.

“I’ll just keep a tight grip on it, then.” That does.

Ford tackles Stan, knocking the stupid decoration out of his hand and pinning them next to his face. He scowls, leaning in close to his twin’s face before whispering in his ear, “If you wanted to be stuffed so badly, all you had to do was ask, my dear.” He purrs before he trails kisses down Stan’s face, beginning to pepper his neck with them when Stan responds.

“I tried, ya’ knucklehead, but you were too busy in your lab. I had to do something to get your attention, so I nabbed your journal to get you up here so I could rile you up enough to fuck me. Heh,” Stan roughly laughs, throwing his head back and cocking a smirk at Ford’s bewildered face above him, “sure worked, huh? Lil’ IQ is more than willing and able.” This line, he nods down to Ford’s crotch where a prominent bulge was forming.

What.

The. Fuck.

He’s going to kill Stanley. Well, no, he’s going to fuck him, but the sentiment is all the same. He’s the Knucklehead, making him think he was stupid enough-insane enough to risk potential life threatening injury just to-

Without saying a single word, Ford flips Stanley over, hitching his thighs open so he can get a good look at his hole. Slick and red, meaning his brother fingered himself open in preparation. Good, that means Ford doesn’t have to be nice and gentle. He whips his belt out of their loops, breathing out harshly as the stray end whipping across Stan’s ass brings a whimper out of him, and unzipping his pants before bringing his cock out through the slit in his boxers. His brother doesn’t deserve to feel any of Ford’s skin, not with how pissed off he is. He grabs himself and lines up with Stan’s ass, pushing in gently enough at first to not seriously hurt his brother but thrusting in harshly as soon as his tip slips in. He starts a punishing pace, wrapping his arms around Stan and leaning down to bury his face in his neck.

“St-Stanford! Oh fuck, a-are you-ah! There!” Of course Ford knows it’s there, he’s fucked Stanley often enough to have his entire body mapped, inside and out, in his mind. He could find his prostate in his sleep. “Ngh-talk to-to me here, please. F-ford, I don’t like it when-fuck fuck fuck-you don’t talk.”

He probably should, shouldn’t he? That’s something he and Stanley talked about when they first got together. Stan can’t stand silence during sex, even if it’s angry sex, to him nasty words are better than angered and stifling silence.

“I was worried,” his voice is rough when he speaks moment later, his thrusts slowing down enough so that he can find better purchase on his knees, lifting Stan’s body enough so that he can reach under him and fist his red and weeping cock, “I thought you were really-really willing to hurt yourself. That,” Ford swallows in an attempt to wet his dry throat, “that you didn’t want me, that a stupid piece of over priced trash was better than me.” And there was the crux of the matter. Ford was stupidly jealous. He had a dislike for sex toys when they were together, and hated any one that might actually penetrate his brother, thinking that if Stanley couldn’t be satisfied with him, he might leave him. Ford doesn’t have much experience, only ever having been with two other people physically before Stanley. He hates to admit it, but he’s insecure.

“Hey,” Ford’s broken out of his thoughts by Stan’s hand pulling his head down to his, his eyes looking back at him. “You know you’re the only one I want. Stanford, I’ve never bottom before you, you know?” Stanford did not know, “I never felt safe or, you know, loved by anyone but you. Definitely never any other men. Ugh, they were creeps out there.” Ford’s mind has stalled. He was Stanley’s first? Well, not first, obviously. But, the first one to have him like this? His thrusting, which had stopped, ramped up again, his hand on Stanley’s cock moving in tempo with his. He buries his head in his brother’s neck again, playing wet and sloppy kisses there, whispering quiet “love you’s” between each one. He aims for Stanley’s prostate for each thrust, earning strangled moans and gasps, the most delightful sounds Ford’s ever heard.

“Stanford-Sixer. Please, oh please faster-I need-! Oh, shit I love you too, Ford. Never let anyone else have me like you do, only you can-huh-fuck me like this, right?” Fuck does Stanley know what he’s doing. He speeds up on command, going from kissing Stanley’s neck to biting it, intent on leaving lasting bruises, marks to remind both of them just who gets to have him like this.

Only Ford does.

“Mine. Hah-you’re mine, Lee. No one else can have you, mmmhph. Mine. Mine. Mine…” Stanford felt feral, “mine” being the only word he can say at that moment. That word and the wet plap plap plap ringing out between Stanley’s pleasured grunts and moans making a cacophony of noise-distantly, he’s grateful they were the only ones home at the time-music to the twins’ ears. Stanford can feel himself get closer, his balls tightening as Stanley squeezes around him so sinfully, so delightful. He tightens his fist on his twin’s cock, adding a twist when his hand makes it’s way to the head, Stan’s ass squeezing him tighter at the motion.

“Please, Stanford, cum in me.” Stanley moans so prettily in ears. And like always, he’s incapable of doing anything but what his brother wishes. His hips twitch, thrusting harshly a half dozen more times before he snaps them up, holding himself still close to his brother while he finishes inside-hand still fisting the other’s cock.

“Stanley.” Came Ford’s strangled grunt as he works his tight fist over his brother’s throbbing cock, squeezing the head and thumbing his slit. He feels more than he hears Stanley sob as he cums, strings of ejaculate coating Ford’s hand, the floor, and Stanley’s stomach. They collapse on the ground, both breathless and both with slightly aching backs. Stan turns over to be face to face with Ford. He brings his hands up and cups his twin’s face, fingers tracing over his nose and brows as Ford kisses his palms, both basking in the moment.

“Way better than a damn glass Christmas tree, Sixer, stupid thing can’t even compare.” Stan smiles, rubbing their noses together

Stanford just breaks out in loud laughter, wrapping his arms tightly around Stanley.

—Alternative Ending—

“Welcome to Gravity Falls Emergency Room. Does your injury or illness pertain to fire, molasses, Christmas lights, or snow coated bricks?” The cheery nurse asks to two grumpy men in front of her.

“No. Need something removed.” The words were short and curt coning from Stan.

“Alrighty! What’s the object and where does it need to be removed from?” She remains her cheerful disposition.

“Glass tree. From me.” Oh, another one.

“Ah, I’ll get Margo then, she’s the specialist for that ‘round here.” She gives a sympathetic tut. Stan’s face burns red from embarrassment. Ford’s from holding back his laughter.

[celestialtarot11]

Song Lyric Messages 🤍🌹💌

Hi friends! 💘🌹 I thought I’d switch it up a little and channel you some song lyrics! This can be any message you need to hear 💗🌟 enjoy, feel free to like, comment and reblog! I’m loving this red theme.

Pile 1:

• 🥀💌 “Feelings, so deep in my feelings. No, this ain’t really like me. Can’t control my anxiety. When I’m with you I can’t breathe. Boy, you do something to me. Ooh, I’ll never get over you until I find something new.” -Boo’d up by Ella Mai.

If you’ve been going through a breakup, separation or no contact situation, it’s been bothering you deeply. You may try to repress how you feel, but it keeps coming up, and your resistance could bring more harm than good. Your message is it’s okay to feel what you need to feel through the experience, anxiety will pass too. It’s okay to miss someone whether that was a friend too, it doesn’t necessarily need to be romantic here. Prioritize yourself, your experience, and journal about how it affected you. Give yourself a voice and watch yourself bloom 🌹🤍

💌 Some journal prompts 💌

• How did this experience affect me?

• How did I react to the experience?

• What is changing in my life and how do I feel about it?

Pile 2:

• 🥀💌 “You make me dance, bring me up, bring me down, play it sweet. Make me move like a freak, Mr. Saxobeat.” -Mr. Saxobeat By Alexandra Stan.

It’s a wonderful time for manifesting! Now, if you don’t know this song…😤 we’re gonna have some problems. But back to the main point, now is a wonderful time to manifest and celebrate! Either something new is coming into your life, or you’ve reached a point of self actualization that is setting you free. You feel so free, happy and excited. Maybe someone new is coming in, or has. Or you are manifesting someone. Here’s a wonderful sign whatever it is, is coming! Allow yourself to receive. If you’ve been pondering on what to manifest, here are some journal prompts:

💌 Some journal prompts 💌

• “Where does my heart want me to go next?”

• “If I could truly have everything I desired what would it be?”

• “What would happen if I manifested it? What would my life look like then?”

Pile 3:

• 🥀💌 “Just let my love, just let my love adorn you. Please baby, yeah. You gotta know, you gotta know. Know that I adore you. Yeah baby.” -Adorn by Miguel

This could be a message from a person directly! They want to tell you how much they adore you, and love you for who you are. They want to tell you how much they’ve been desiring to talk to you, and tell you how they feel deep down. I saw the knight of cups in my vision, so this person feels for you and wants to make a sweet advancement 🌟🥂 that is a card or courtship! If not a person, your inner child wants to let you know they adore you for all you do, and they admire your resilience, strength and ability to love. That’s all they ever wanted, and you giving them that is something they truly appreciate.

💌 Some extra messages 💌

• December may be important.

• They are ready to listen.

• Progress is being made.

Pile 2:

• 🥀💌 “Baby while we’re young. I think we should do something crazy. Like say fuck everyone, and just run away from the daily routine. Yeah, you know what I mean.” -While We’re Young by Jhené Aiko.

It’s important to spend your time focusing on the present moment. Your inner child wants to feel free, happy, and passionate about where they are going next. Take a leap of faith, let life play out as it’s meant to. You are meant to be here now. What would happen if you let it happen to you? Instead of forcing, pushing and moving, sit back and breathe. You may be missing out the more you take control. And maybe it’s time to observe, and let it be 🌟💖

💌 Some journal prompts 💌

• Where can I let go a little more today?

• What do I think will happen if I went with the flow?

• What message does my favorite self have for me?

Pile 5:

• 🥀💌 “That’s the way everyday goes. Every time we’ve no control. If the sky is pink and white, if the ground is black and yellow, it’s the same way you showed me. Nod my head, don’t close my eyes.” -Pink + White by Frank Ocean.

Foster more security and stability in yourself. All is well, all is okay. The moment that exists now is for you. If you’ve been bored of your routine do something sporadic, different and spontaneous. You are seeing clearly, maybe there was a lot of truths you couldn’t face in the past, and now it’s helping you understand more. There are many layers to what we don’t see at first, when we peel it back, then we understand. It’s like you’ve reached a major point of understanding a situation, person or yourself. Or life in general. Its happening to realign you with where you’re meant to be 💗🧘‍♀️

💌 Some journal prompts 💌

• What am I seeing clearly that I didn’t before?

• Where can this perspective take me?

• Which perspective empowers me?

Pile 6:

• 🥀💌 “Baby you’re the baddest, baby you’re the baddest girl. Nobody else matters, nobody else matters girl.“ -Les by Childish Gambino.

Confidence and empowerment is your theme for December. It’s time to step up and realize your worth. If you’ve been working on yourself it’s to help you build your self esteem, and confidence in taking the next step. Create your own intentions, plant your own seed, let you have your own experience. There is enough space for you to begin now, move forward self assured and confident 💗🥂

💌 Some journal prompts 💌

• What area of my life do I want to focus on next?

• What is this area of life requiring of me?

• Where do I need to mature and develop better skills?

Paid Readings 🌹💖

Distance Energy Healing Services 🌙🌃

[starsandmoonsbelow]

Living HelPol: Day 7

Meet, Greet, Doubt?: Tarot Cards Pt. 2

Hope this helps someone feel more comfortable with their readings and getting confused sometimes because I think I just fumbled the first actual conversation with my deity and it’s PRETTY hard to top that.

I put the whole reading for anyone curious about the entire embarrassing scene but I just thought this was a great example of me being a dunce and being so nervous to talk to Ares that I convinced myself it wasn’t him. Sigh.

What deity?

Death; “Ending of a cycle” | Also one of the cards of Ares, so when I pulled it I couldn’t believe so much that I pulled TWO MORE CARDS and confused myself throughout this entire reading.

Queen of Wands; “Courage / Nurturing of action” | If the last one wasn’t enough to convince me I was talking to Ares THIS ONE SHOULD’VE BEEN but instead I went “queen of death? Courage? Athena?” When I knew damn well a queen card DOES NOT automatically mean girl deity.

10 of Swords; “Defeat / The peak of loss or crisis” | This is what I meant by I should’ve stopped because this confused me OUT MY MIND. I pulled this and went “loss and defeat? I dont think Ares would describe himself as a loser, but would Athena? No right?” But what god would?? I should’ve realized that the card meant (I think) that this god BRINGS defeat…as in theyre strong…AS IN THIS IS ARES AND I NEED TO STOP CONVINCING MYSELF OTHERWISE

If he wasn’t sick of me before, he is now.

What should I know about them?

(Reversed) 8 of Cups {Emotion}; “Trying one more time” | This one usually means walking away but I accidentally began reading the flipped definition after picking it up wrong and decided to keep it so yeah…I hope I haven’t ruined me chance if that is directed towards me /hj

Page of Wands {Action}; “New action” | Either in relation to the last one and he’s doing something new, or this has something to do with me trying something new. I’m more inclined to think the second because I really hope the internet is hard lying to me and he has more people working with him than I’ve been led to believe.

What can I do to strengthen our bond?

The Hierophant; “Tradition, institutions, but also self and general development?” | I’m realizing that I need to revisit my sources on this card because I don’t understand, but with the card definition itself makes me think that I should be looking for more ways to actually practice the religion and tributes to Ares. Also I’m realizing this might also have to do with me skipping my journaling these past two days so…uhm,,,

9 of Cups {Emotion}; “Emotional fulfillment” | I pulled another card because the last one I didn’t know how to interpret but this one was also confusing because some sort of emotional fulfillment is what I’m trying to achieve.

10 of Cups; ”Divine love / Happy ending” | I think this was just an emphasis on the last card which is… ;-; I’ll figure it out.

What do they wish for me to know?

Ace of Swords; “Mental clarity / New action or conflict” | Thanks, Ares.

Future relationship?

Temperance; “Balance / Harmony” | I hope so too.

What’s holding me back?

The Tower; “Chaos / Sudden change” | You know what? Yeah…this is all new for me and I’m having a hard time accepting it

The Devil; “Temptation / Attachment” | After pulling this card I realized that out of ANY of my questions I only pulled “bad” cards when I asked a negative question. Which also sent me for a loop because what are the chances of that??

2 of Swords {Thoughts}; “Making difficult decisions” | Even my instinctive doubt can’t make sense of how accurate and on the nose this part of the reading was. Like how…? But also this is so cool?

Am I making progress?

Knight of Wands; “Movement / Inspired action” | WHAT. ARE. THE. CHANCES. The KNIGHT of WANDS? The MOVEMENT of ACTION??? Basically meaning that yes, I am making good progress and I think it has something to do with me doing this reading and beginning to ask my own questions without a template at this point.

Should I focus on that instead today?

9 of Pentacles {Possession}; “Fulfillment / Self sufficiency” | “What does this mean? That I’ll benefit from finding out for myself? No, wait does it mean I should and will benefit greatly from it?…oh It says literally says yes on the card.”

Anyway really fun experience, here’s hoping that one day I get my Autism diagnosis and stop asking the same question 14 times when the answer is right there.

[lilwoofs]

I know it’s been a while but the more I think about it the more I think nothing from the flashbacks in dark beginnings were actually real. Of course there’s the big ones; in the journal it said that ark workers were the ones that calmed emerl down, not shadow (also Maria seems surprised about shadow fighting in shadow generations, but in dark beginnings she asks him to defend them) , and shadow didn’t seem to know he was black arms until shadow the hedgehog 2005 (though he did have memory loss, but even in shadow generations Gerald revealed to shadow and Maria that he made the deal with black doom and Maria seems surprised, that lines up with shadow being surprised in SH 2005, (and also Abe seems to act like it was a secret that he happened to see as a child)) so it just doesn’t make sense for Maria and shadow to have had that conversation. Not to mention so many other things are glitching and out of order (though I think it was confirmed that black doom came back because of the black arms larva on the ark, so it being there was real, even if they might’ve not actually seen it like how the ‘memory’ shows)

It seems like shadows current memories are the ones spilling onto old ones, Maria never confronted him about being black arms (because she most likely never knew) but shadow does know now and maybe that’s seeing a what if. He knows of emerl, and now he’s so used to fighting it’s kinda like a dream, where everything that he knows is getting mixed up.

In sonic adventure 2 we see a flash back (and even though shadows memories aren’t the best in this game, it’s so soon after it would’ve happened for him that I think it’s safe to say we could trust it) that showed shadow expressing that he wants to go to the earth, even saying something like ‘maybe if I go there I’ll find out what my purpose is’

So it makes sense that shadow, having now been to earth and it not doing much, would be concerned about not being about to fit in on earth, and the beginning part shows that, instead of him saying he wants to go down there he’s expressing doubts about being able to fit in, it’s similar to what happened, but also contradicting, which is why I think it didn’t exactly happened as they showed it.

(And I think that makes a lot of sense because the after credits for dark beginning in the PlayStation has shadow again talking to Maria about his concerns fitting into earth, but this one seems more like a hallucination in the present day then a flashback (not real at all because they’re on earth and she disappears afterwards) further showing that this is an issue he is having NOW. And though it could’ve been an issue in the past, I think all together it makes more sense this way)

(That could also mean the very start with Maria running wasn’t just done to be mean, but could’ve been done because that’s a strong memory’s of present that shadow has, again leaking into this ‘flashback’)

[gghostwriter]

Pau’s Library

I’ve always liked to talk about books so I might as well keep an open logbook here. The list is a mixture of rereads, top favorites, and books read this 2025.

I won’t give a definite rating as it’s not conducive to getting anyone to read any of these. Instead I’ll be leaving a favorite quote of mine from the book, one that I wrote thoughts about in my reading journal and hope that entices you to check it out. Personal favorites will have 🌸 as its mark.

My ask box is open to any recommendations or any conversations about my list and your list too!

Yearly Re-reads

East of Eden by John Steinbeck 🌸 ↳ “It would be absurd if we did not understand both angels and devils, since we invented them.” Breast & Eggs by Mieko Kawakami 🌸 ↳ “My monolithic expectation of what a woman’s body was supposed to look like had no bearing on what actually happened to my body. The two things were wholly unrelated. I never became the woman I imagined. And what was I expecting?” Chess Story by Stefan Zweig 🌸 ↳ “People and events don't disappoint us, our models of reality do. It is my model of reality that determines my happiness or disappointments.”

2025 in books

So Late in the Day by Claire Keegan ↳ “You know what is at the heart of misogyny? When it comes down to it?’ ‘So I’m a misogynist now?’ ‘It’s simply about not giving.” Small Things Like These by Claire Keegan ↳ “What would life be like, he wondered, if they were given time to think and reflect over things.” The Hour of the Star by Clarice Lispector ↳ “She had no idea how to cope with life and she was only vaguely aware of her own inner emptiness.” The Lottery & Other Stories by Shirley Jackson ↳ “No one even noticed me, she thought with reassurance, everyone who saw me has gone by long ago.” [Pillar of Salt] Flush by Virginia Woolf 🌸 ↳ “She was too just not to realise that it was for her that he had sacrificed his courage, as it was for her that he had sacrificed the sun and the air.” The Eye by Vladimir Nabokov [tw: su*cid*] ↳ “After all, in order to live happily, a man must know now and then a few moments of blankness. Yet I was always exposed, always wide-eyed; even in sleep I did not cease to watch over myself, understanding nothing of my existence, growing crazy at the thought of of not being able to stop being aware of myself.” The Six Death of the Saint by Alix E Harrow 🌸 ↳ “But in the end, there was no saint, just a lonely girl telling secrets to herself in a dark mirror.” Journey Into The Past by Stefan Zweig 🌸 ↳ “Madness,” he exclaimed to himself, in astonishment, faltering. “Madness! What do they want? Once again, once again!” War once again, war that had so recently shattered his whole life?” Notes from Underground by Fyodor Dostoevsky ↳ “Man only likes counting his grief, he doesn’t count his happiness. But if he were to count properly, he’d see that there’s enough of both lots for him.” The Double by Fyodor Dostoevsky ↳ “Sorrow is concealed in gilded palaces, and there’s no escaping it.” Divine Rivals by Rebecca Ross ↳ “I don’t want to wake up when I’m seventy-four only to realize I haven’t lived.” The Door by Magda Szabó ↳ "When the sands run out for someone, don't stop them from going." ↳ "You can't give them anything to replace life. Do you think I didn't love Polett? That it it meant nothing to me when she'd had enough and wanted out? It's just that , as well as love, you also have to know how to kill. It won't do you any harm to remember that." Human Acts by Han Kang ↳ “Is it true that human beings are fundamentally cruel? Is the experience of cruelty the only thing we share as a species? Is the dignity that we cling to nothing but self-delusion, masking from ourselves the single truth: that each one of us is capable of being reduced to an insect, a ravening beast, a lump of meat? To be degraded, slaughtered—is this the essential of humankind, one which history has confirmed inevitable?”

2025 in essays

Verdigris: The Color of Oxidation, Statues, and Impermanence by Katy Kelleher Notes on “Taste” by Brie Wolfson Why Are We Tormented by the Future? By Joshua Rothman Writing As Transformation by Louise Gluck What Do We Do with the Art of Monstrous Men? By Claire Dederer 🌸 What’s A Fact, Anyway? By Fergus McIntosh The Disappearance of Literary Men Should Worry Everyone by David J Morris Womanhood is the Process of Understanding Your Mother by Caitlyn 🌸 In Defense of Pretension by Ayan Artan 🌸 I Want to Look Like I’ve Lived by Amelia 🌸 The End of Our Extremely Online Era by Tommy Dixon oh so you’re a thought daughter now? Should I call Joan Didion? by Sarah Cucchiara Stop trying to make Melania happen by Sarah Cucchiara Facing My Own Mediocrity by Brock Covington Women hate women who go for what they want by Ali Kriegsman I want to everything, so I do nothing by Luisa The Art of Reading like a translator by Lily Meyer

[aireia]

Am I the ocean you dream of? -- Nanami Kento

tw/cw: gn! reader, angst angst angst, hurt no comfort, nanami's dead.

note: it's almost 1AM. —masterlist

The sound of whirring engines and conversations filled your ears. You leaned back on your seat and looked out the window, the clouds are unhappy today. A sigh left your lips, and you flipped open the small book in your hand. Well, book wasn’t exactly the right word. It was more of a journal, a diary, even. More specifically, the diary of your late lover, Nanami Kento.

Your eyes scanned over the neat cursive handwriting you would’ve recognised in a room stacked to the brim with papers, and you closed your eyes, then tried to remember how you got here in the first place. 

Ah, there it was. You remember how empty you felt the few weeks after the Shibuya incident. You should have convinced him harder to not go, but you knew what he was like. If he is needed, he will show up, even more so because the students were there. Your eyebags were heavy and your movements were sloppy around the apartments as you cleaned through some of the things Nanami owned, and you came across a book with a leather cover, the one you’d always see him write in at night. 

You knew it was an invasion of his privacy, but curiosity got the best of you. You turned the cover and for minutes, you just stood there, staring at the words on the first page. There was nothing there, just his name, and a date. The date of your anniversary, that is. You couldn’t help but wonder if he had started a new book because it symbolised a new chapter of his life with you, or that he had run out of pages in his old journal.

You flipped to the second page, and there it was. “I bought roses to confess to y/n today.” You gulped as you continued reading. “They’re currently asleep on my couch. I’ll leave them something to eat tomorrow because I need to head out early.” 

You could feel the tears welling in your eyes as you continued reading, and one specific page caught your eye. 

“Maybe I’ll bring them to Malaysia for a holiday. Kuantan seems like a good place.”

Right. He’s talked to you about it before, and the last time he’s mentioned it was a while before he got busy with work, always coming home with different bruises and injuries. Hell, he even told you that he thought about moving there with you.

And here you are now, on a seven hour flight from Japan to Malaysia. Your tired eyes continue scanning over the words, and now you aren’t sure whether you’re just staring at the words or actually reading, because you’ve found yourself reading Nanami’s diary at night when you’re unable to sleep. The thoughts you’ve read inside were all things he’d whisper into your ear at night, and those nights you’ve had the book in your hands as you read through, a faint voice of his remains at the back of your mind, as if he were the one reading to you instead.

There was one in particular that you kept going back to. You remember the one time both of you were extremely tired, but Nanami had insisted on cooking dinner for the both of you. He ended up overseasoning the food, and it was too salty to be edible. You laughed at how many times he tried to apologise while you were busy giggling to yourself about how the ‘great cook Kento’ had finally messed up his cooking. 

Now, as you close your eyes as the plane begins its take off, you realise there’s no one’s shoulder for you to rest your head on when you fall asleep. 

When you open your eyes again, everything is blurry, but you can feel the plane finally land on the solid ground. You’re here. The flight attendants see the passengers off the door, and the message the captain spoke through the speakers stuck in your mind. 

“For those returning to Malaysia, welcome home.” 

How you wished that were the case for you now. 

You collected your suitcases and went through the standard procedures, and the first thing you realised the moment you walked out the door was how hot Malaysia was as compared to Japan during this time. It’s winter in Japan, but it’s always summer in Malaysia. 

It wouldn’t be so bad living here, maybe. Then he wouldn’t need to hear you complain about the cold in winter. 

You booked a cab to your hotel. You purposely booked one near the beaches, so that you could walk to the beach after you got checked in. 

Though, that wasn’t really the case. You’re exhausted. Both from the flight and everything you’ve been through the past few months. The moment you got into your room, even though the sun was blaring hot outside, you just wanted to curl up and sleep for the next few days you were here. 

You’ve been telling yourself these days that Nanami’s had it worse, and he was more tired than you were, than you’ll ever be, but now, you’re in Malaysia, wanting to live his dreams for him… And suddenly, it all felt so wrong. You’re alone here, but where was he? He didn’t get to be here with you. 

Somehow, through your vision that was muddled by your tears, you convinced yourself to go to the beach. Perhaps it’s the final page of his diary you never brought yourself to read, the one he wrote the night before the Shibuya incident. 

“If anything happens, I’ll be waiting for them by the ocean.”

The calming sounds of the waves instantly reached your ears, and you took your sandals off before stepping onto the warm sand. With each step, the sand slots itself in between your toes, a tingling feeling you’ll probably never get rid of. You knew you’d never find him here. Maybe at the bottom of the ocean, he’d be waiting for you as a siren. 

The breeze of the ocean blew by, sticking to your hair. You walked towards the ocean and stepped into the water, shivering from how cold it was. You then crouched down and dipped your finger into the waves, and for a moment, you hesitated before bringing it to your mouth and licking it. You almost immediately regret your decision, laughing at yourself for how idiotic you must have looked. 

You breathed out heavily after, before trying your hardest to put on a genuine smile and smiling at the ocean.

“It’s salty.”

by user @ aireia, do not plagiarize and/or translate.

[obstinaterixatrix]

Do u know any good mob psycho 100 fanfics?? Or authors??

well obviously my sister but I’m guessing you’re the same anon so 1) you already know her fics 2) you want different recs from what’s on her list (some of them being fics I rec’d to her lol). recs will skew heavily seri/rei and I’m just going through my bookmarks so it’s gonna be most recently read to oldest read. also seconding sister’s recs of bobmoss and crookedturtle. but I’ll add a fic from each anyway because I already wrote something for one while I was drafting this (oops)

Recollection by CowardlyBean

This is the journal of missing 31 year old Reigen Arataka, distributed with permission from friends and family. The version presented in this document has been kindly edited with added commentary by a loyal customer of his. -Editor’s Note

gen, experimental and in progress at 14k so definitely deserves more love than it’s getting. inspired by house of leaves; as the summary says, it’s some rando writing annotations about reigen’s journal, but Something Weird Is Going On. the 4th chapter updated so I actually need to catch up. also, sister rec’d this fic to me

Like Acid Reflux, or Love by partingxshot

Dating Reigen is like dating a single dad—only with more children, weirder scruples, and an extreme ruthlessness vis-à-vis group takoyaki discounts. He's not hot enough for this.

OR: "Me, You and Steve" by Garfunkel and Oates but with fifteen million teenagers.

OR: Outsider POV exploring Reigen’s dedication to his gaggle of bizarre children through an ill-fated dating attempt.

OR: Serizawa gets bruxism.

gen(/pre-relationship seri/rei), oneshot, 7k. oc/reigen breakup lmao. extremely funny concept, extremely good execution

Dream Dial by Alakazamboni

For the better part of nine years, Arataka has proudly worked in customer service at a behemoth of a company. At least, that's what he remembers, but a strange illness and a mysterious caller keeps trying to convince him otherwise. It doesn't help that this caller has the power to distort reality.

seri/rei, in progress, 16k. great uncanny atmosphere, and also reigen is trapped in time prison as a miserable office worker. hasn’t been updated for a while but read it anyway, the stoping point is fine

What We Make by crookedturtle

Reigen and Tome are kidnapped from the Spirits and Such office to be used as leverage against Mob. They have two goals: to contact the outside world, and keep each other safe. In doing so they engage in a dangerous game of lies and manipulation with their captors—a game with potentially deadly consequences.

gen (bg seri/rei), complete, 36k. Good for whump and high stakes interpersonal maneuvering & drama. I liked how the story extends beyond rescue and goes into how everyone navigates the fallout

Man's Best Friend by bobmoss

A cursed dog gets left at Spirits and Such. Anyone who pets it is doomed to die a horrible death.

Reigen, of course, pets it.

seri/rei, oneshot, 4k. funny and cute and sweet :) there’s a very charming tentative & tender vibe

heart line by ruthwrites

It doesn’t really matter, he reminds himself. He’s making a change, just like all of Reigen’s clients. What’s on his hands isn’t set in stone. He just has to make sure Reigen doesn’t see it— even if it might feel nice to have that steady attention, Reigen’s hands that are so much nicer than Serizawa’s folding around his.

(or: Reigen starts offering palm readings as a service, leading to Serizawa having to confront his feelings for his boss.)

seri/rei, oneshot, 6k. getting together fluff, a fun light read that also highlights serizawa’s insecurities—the internal narration has good character voice

If you won't believe me when I say it, believe me when I don't by deathdefied

Two years after Reigen invited Serizawa to work for him, he still can't quite categorize his feelings for his coworker. Instead of actually dealing with those feelings like an adult and talking to his friend, he decided to get really paranoid and overthink everything Serizawa does.

seri/rei, complete, 26k. reigen drives himself nuts lmao

Obvious by skeilig

Tome’s perspective on Reigen and Serizawa’s developing relationship.

gen (but about seri/rei), oneshot, 3k. I like outsider perspective getting together fics, especially when the perspective character is like ‘I’m actually not invested in this except when it affects me directly’

Cover Me by flecksofpoppy

Reigen’s shadow seems longer as the days move forward, more solitary. The cuts on his face heal and the ache in his bones go away, but a new sting replaces it. It’s loneliness, the thing he had managed to avoid ever since a primary school-aged kid who could make cups float stumbled into his office so many years ago.

seri/rei, oneshot, 3k. getting together fic that shows off a little of reigen’s gloomier side, it’s cute

loved you just a little too much by shcherbatskayas

You learn how to let go.

(It doesn't come naturally.)

gen(ish), oneshot, 2k. 2nd person character study of serizawa’s relationship with touichiro, I liked the ambivalence; effectively captures development over time with a relatively short wordcount.

offering genuine help with genuine results by suitablyskippy

“The curse was pretty clear on me not telling lies,” concedes Reigen. “It was pretty clear on me telling the truth. But,” as he lifts one finger, already sliding into the same educational tone he generally uses for imparting wisdom to Mob about life and love and the overall holistic benefits of making sure he’s always available for unexpected overtime work on weekends, “telling the truth isn’t necessarily the same as being honest, is it?”

“You’re the professional liar,” says Dimple. “You tell me.”

(Being cursed to only tell the truth and being cursed with Dimple as an employee are pretty much equally bad, as far as Reigen's stress levels are concerned.)

gen, oneshot, 2k. the tags include friends with no benefits whatsoever, which is very apt. Very funny to have reigen and dimple be petty and shady

a slightly more miraculous miracle by suitablyskippy

“Rumour has it that something impossible’s happened. Something that could never have happened. That shouldn’t have been able to happen.” In a single slick move Mezato produces a tiny voice recorder from an inside pocket, flips it open and active, and holds it up before Mob’s mouth to ask him, in a tone of devastating intensity: “Do you know anything about… a miracle, Mob-kun?”

Mob doesn’t hesitate. “We had maths homework to hand in,” he says. “But now we don’t have to. We don’t even have to go to the lesson.”

(The sun is shining, the birds are singing, Salt Middle School has been closed by an unexplained miracle, and the only thing wrong in Spice City is the fact that nothing is even slightly wrong at all.)

teru/mob, incomplete, 55k. for the most part I haven’t been repeating authors on this list, but listen. listen to me. I need you to listen. it is extremely unlikely for this fic to ever be completed. but hark, lest this sad probability turn you away and leave you dispassionately scrolling to the next fic, I need you (you specifically) to know that if I were in the same room as you, I would be wrestling the phone/mouse/trackpad/touchscreen/etc from your hands and furiously clicking the link. when I bookmarked this fic in 2017 I described it as having “some breathtakingly sensical prose and the funniest misunderstandings I’ve ever read”. trust me from seven years ago. open your heart.

skylight by inexhaustible

unconnected snapshots in what might, in some worlds, be something a little like recovery.

seri/rei, oneshot, 2k. character study that nails the tension of an escalating romantic atmosphere.

come on, come on, come over (take it off your shoulder) by mortarsmayfall

Reigen's free hand cradles Serizawa's head, curled under his ear just so to turn it for a better angle. He feels his pulse pound under Reigen's fingers, shivers just the slightest bit. If Reigen notices, he doesn't say anything about it.

seri/rei, oneshot, 2k. when I first read this I saved it as a private bookmark because I was so embarrassed by the sheer intimacy of haircuts with severely unresolved sexual tension. I’m guessing this was written after studio bones gave us reigen cutting serizawa’s hair. crumbs no more; for once we had a feast to enjoy. short & sweet getting together fic

Off-White by reigreitz

Some habits are tells.

seri/rei, oneshot, 1k. snapshots of pre-relationship and established relationship scenes, I’m quite fond of it. on my first reading I’m pretty sure I remember not paying attention to the habit piece at all (even with it being right in the summary) so at the last scene I was hit by the double whammy of ‘oh so that was what serizawa was reacting to’ and ‘AW… THAT’S SWEET…’; I think the fic does a great job of hiding/not acknowledging certain things the perspective character knows and is reacting to, which makes it fun to reread and pinpoint what exactly serizawa’s previously more opaque train of thought was. like, it’s the same stuff, but you get to read into more nuance.

the seven stages of falling in love by reigen arataka by matsunoble

You suppose one of the weirdest times to realize you've fallen deeply and irrevocably in love is when it's fuck o'clock in the morning and you're blearily checking your fridge for leftover curry.

seri/rei, oneshot, 3k. I was quite taken by the mundane (and sometimes unappealing) descriptions of love, and I like when serizawa has the upper hand

Mr. Psychic by beefstatic

Looks like trouble in Spice City...

seri/rei, oneshot, 4k. Serizawa Acts Like An Intimidating Bodyguard During Tense/Shady Situations. fun emphasis on that potential aspect of his character, I like how it’s done.

Late by hamlingo

For the first few days after hiring Serizawa, Reigen couldn’t help but be alarmed when the door opened at eight o’clock sharp in the mornings. He got used to it eventually, and in a month’s time he was more surprised when the door didn’t creak open right on time.

This was one of those mornings.

seri/rei, oneshot, 2k. this is actually among the first seri/rei fics I bookmarked so I can say with relative certainty that on may 20th 2017 I decided that maybe seri/rei was not just a joke of me indulging my own spurious unreasonable whims. fun character study and has that enjoyable tension of pleasant pre-relationship uncertainty.

Quiet Talks by krypkaktus

At some point, Reigen cutting his hair twice a month had turned into a mutual habit.

seri/rei, oneshot, 600 words. another charming snapshot of pre-relationship uncertainty, pleasantly embarrassing unresolved romantic tension.

walk in by ruthwrites

It was then he realized that the reason Reigen and Serizawa were standing so close was because they were kissing.

Mob was not really sure what to do with that information.

(or: mob leaves something at the office, comes back, and walks into something he wasn't supposed to)

seri/rei, oneshot, 3k. an extremely popular fic for extremely valid reasons, this is a shining example of the outsider POV shipfic where the perspective character is like. I’m 14 and did not want to see you guys kissing. and the couple is like. we also did not want you to see us kissing, this is excruciatingly awkward.

tomorrow isn't always another day by suitablyskippy

It’s like Reigen’s been waiting for the question. He stops dead on the pavement, grips Mob by the shoulders, and stares down into his eyes with an expression as haunted as though every ghost the pair of them has ever exorcised has taken up residence behind it. “Mob,” he says. “Mob,” he says again. “Tell me, Mob. Look at me and tell me. Tell me truthfully. Do I look cursed to you?”

Mob looks at him, and tells him truthfully. “No.”

“Well, you didn’t look very long,” says Reigen. “Let’s just stand here for a moment, like so, and you can have another look, a nice long look, and really think about it...”

(There's nothing strange about being called back to exorcise the same haunted photocopier six days in a row. It must just be a very haunted photocopier.)

gen, oneshot, 18k. I didn’t mean to rec the same author three (3) times but this is also one of my top faves. extremely funny time prison where nobody is on the same page ever.

space voyage by Anonymous

Tome Kurata is slightly famous—or notorious, more like—for being... a weirdo, to put it simply. She's definitely a person of interest. Just not exactly in a newsworthy way, which is obviously the only way that matters.

mezato/tome, oneshot, 1k. charming pre-relationship contention, they’re the same type of self-absorbed and tunnel vision (affectionate)

I was thinking of not writing up recs for sister’s fics but since one author got three (3) fics on the list I’m gonna also put 3 of my fave fics of sister’s

Reigen's Comprehensive Fool-Proof Guide on How Not To Be Next Door Neighbors With Your Employee (because that'd just be creepy) by MalkyTop

Reigen hires Serizawa and they somehow end up as roommates.

seri/rei, complete, 17k. a fic sister wrote for ✨ME✨ that shows off reigen’s neuroticism and his decidedly not-normal attempts to come across as Extremely Normal, The Most Normal Man Alive. there are so many comedic setups and payoffs. there are so many shenanigans. reigen gets frog-boiled into romance. actually, I drop that term a lot but I’m not sure it’s a common enough to intuitively understand. it refers to the boiling frog metaphor

If At First You Don't Succeed, Find a Loophole by MalkyTop

Reigen keeps dying; Serizawa keeps trying to save him.

seri/rei, complete, 18k. sister was insane for this because she trapped all of her readers AND herself in time prison by releasing one chapter a day. it was really funny to witness because I was the only person not in time prison by virtue of editing privilege. while we were watching mondays: see you next week (an office time loop movie), sister was saying she was impressed at how effective/efficient the movie was at picking which scenes to repeat. this is to say, as someone who notices these details, sister was very intentional about when things changed and how things changed from the perspective of a character completely unaware of time prison. also, the emotional momentum is extremely good, I loved reading serizawa’s increasing desperation from reigen’s context-less perspective.

in absentia* by MalkyTop

After what was supposed to be a routine exorcism, Reigen wakes up in the wrong body.

serirei, complete, 26k. slowburn bodyswap with mystery and intrigue. a solid casefic! I can be biased and right. there are metanarrative elements that I find fun and that, in my opinion, highlights how sister did in fact get a degree in philosophy. there’s also some fun subtle and messy characterization notes, like when serizawa asks reigen not to cook for him. it’s hard to talk about what I like about this fic without giving away a lot of specifics, so go read it.

[drabblesandimagines]

400 requests! joshuaxreader when reader suddenly kisses him. please ❤️

Thanks for taking part in my 400 Followers Event, anon! Hope you enjoy x Distraction Joshua Rosfield x fem reader, just good ol' fluff 658 words

Joshua thinks better when he thinks aloud, and even more so when he has an audience.

You’re sat together on a bench at the top of the Hideaway at sunset – you’ve positioned yourself with crossed legs, facing inwards. He’s mulling away, skipping back and forth between his own journal of writings and the annals of Moss the Chronicler that lie on the bench between the two of you, finding links and identifying areas where he wishes to explore more.

You’re mesmerized by his voice, how adorable you find it when his tone inflects in excitement when he pieces another part of the puzzle together. You wish you could take in what he was saying - Founder forbid if he asked you to repeat anything back! His face, usually pale of late, is full of colour this evening, the setting sun basking him in a golden glow and you are absolutely smitten.

“Mayhaps on Ash I’ll be able to see the mural in full at last – the Circle of Malius still is prominent over there after all, and just like Phoenix Gate I’m hoping an Apodytery will still stand…”

The mention of Ash makes your stomach squirm as Joshua continues his chain of thought aloud. Ash is Odin’s territory, where the last Mothercrystal resides too. They plan to set sail as soon as the Enterprise is restored and that day grows ever closer – Mid regularly sending reports. Worry gnaws at your chest, too close to your heart – both Joshua and Clive had not come out well against Barnabas Tharmr in the past.

“..I was thinking, instead of waiting for repairs to finish, I could prime and just fly over to Ash.”

“Joshua!” You gasp, looking at him in alarm. “You can’t-“

He’s grinning, boyishly. “I do jest, my lady. I could see I’d lost you to your own thoughts.” The Phoenix leans forward. “Forgive me. After all, you are kind to entertain me so as I muse, especially when I’m sure you have other matters to attend to.”

“Not at all.” You reply, softly. “I could listen to you for hours.”

“You shouldn’t tell me that – there is many a topic I can prove to be quite passionate about that others may find too dry. In fact, Moss the Chronicler commented that-”

He is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, and you want him to be yours.

You lean forward then – you’re not sure why, a combination of the fear of what is to come, the way his eyes sparkle in the fading sunlight, the handsome smile on his face as he talks – and you cup his face in your hands. Without any further thought, you press your lips onto his.

There’s a horrible second when he doesn’t reciprocate and you know you’ve now crossed a line that you will never be able to come back from. You go to pull back, thinking already of how fast you might be able to descend the stairs, retreat to your bunk, but then his arms are wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer and he is kissing you back - hungrily.

You move your hands then, resting one at the back of his head, fingers entangling in his blonde locks and the other runs up and down in his spine. He nibbles at your bottom lip before his tongue slips in, trying to explore every corner of your mouth and you don’t think it is possible, but you melt even more into his arms.

Eventually, inevitably, the two of you break for air, leaning your forehead upon his as you both try and catch your breath, sweet smiles on your faces.

“That is quite an effective way of silencing me.” He compliments in a teasing tone.

“Forgive me for ruining your train of thought.”

 He captures your chin then, tilting your face up to meet his eyes. “Actually, I would bid you to do that far more often, sweet one.”

--

Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day x

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-f

[oldwritingm]

Hello again! Let's see... Maybe... Some Creeps again? With... an insecure type character. Think slashers who wear masks in American horror type. Your choice once again, have fun my friend! Congratulations!

~ Shatter

Tysm Shatter!! I decided to do Toby for this one, hope that's cool :3

Word count: 1.1k

Creepypasta - Just Two Slashers ("Ticci" Toby) (700 follower event)

The evening air was heavy with moisture; you were certain it was going to rain. The dark trees along the road all whispered among themselves in the breeze, and for a moment you were entranced. Peaceful, even.

And then came Toby.

“Y/n! There you are!”

Tobias Rogers; the mysterious friend you’d made not too long after moving here. You guessed he lived in the woods too; maybe not these woods (you’d been searching for years for the “huge” house Toby claimed he lived in), but the woods somewhere. He always talked about life in the backwoods; but that wasn’t why you two got along so well. Any two strangers can bond over living in similar biomes—no, you both killed people. Often. For different reasons, sure, but that was something that no one else in the world could bond over.

He was jogging towards you eagerly, his mask and goggles still donned.

“How can you run in those?” You asked as he approached.

“I dunno, how can you do anything with that bulky ass mask?”

You shrugged, backing down immediately. Beneath “that bulky mask” you were reddening.

“C’mon, I was just teasing. I know why you wear it.”

“And I know why you wear your stuff.”

“Yeah. Sucks to be ugly, huh?” He joked. “Not that you’re ugly, though. I actually think you’re pretty hot.”

“You do?”

Instead of responding, Toby gripped your hand and started walking down the road.

For a while he didn’t say anything. He drummed his finger against the back of your hand, hummed, clicked his tongue, but made no conversation whatsoever.

You would’ve spoken up, but a lump in your throat stopped you. So, you took to responding to him in his language. You tapped your finger against his hand.

He glanced over at you, then began tapping rhythmically. At first you thought he was drumming the beat to some song, but then you decided that he was just being sporadic. You tried to mimic his pattern.

“I thought we were doing morse code.”

“Is that what that was?”

Toby shrugged. “I dunno. I don’t know morse code.”

You both burst out in laughter, squeezing each other’s hands affectionately. 

“Anywho, I think it’s gonna rain.”

“Yeah…”

“Everyone else will be inside.” “I should hope they’re already inside; it’s past dark now.”

“Man, don’t say that! I was thinking more, like, shucks, everyone’s inside.”

You quirked up a brow. “Why would you want someone to be… oh, wait.”

Toby nodded slowly, and you could hear the smile in his voice when he said: “Yeah.”

“Don’t tell me it is telling you to… you know.”

“Kill someone? Nah, I just wanted to mess with some losers.”

“Oh. ‘Cause… I mean, I wouldn’t mind if we—if…”

Toby knew what that meant. You had someone in mind. Someone who wronged you in the past, someone who you thought might’ve seen you as you walked the backroads late at night, someone who just gave you the vibe of someone who’d hate you… there were a lot of them. You made lists.

“Let’s see the list.”

Toby glanced over the sheet of notebook paper you’d torn from your journal, then crumpled it up in his pocket. “Got it.”

“Thanks.”

“Yeah, I’ll get to it eventually…” Toby sighed.

Suddenly you felt a little guilty. “I mean, you don’t have to… I don’t mind… uh, doing it myself. It was nice of you to offer, though.”

“Nah, I’ll do it. Just whenever the man wants some trouble stirred up again. Not tonight.”

“What should we do tonight, then?”

“Hm… let’s go to that one lake.”

“...The one that I live by? The lake that you’ve been to countless times when you visit me?”

“Yeah! That one!”

And so it was decided with an exasperated sigh and a blameless snicker—you’d go to the lake.

The moon was high by the time you reached the lake, and its reflection shimmered on the surface. The clouds were clearing now, but still you smelled rain.

“Let’s swim.”

You clenched your fists anxiously. “The water will be freezing, Toby!”

But he was already walking into the water. Yes, walking, not taking any layers off at all. For a second you watched in disbelief, unable to move at all. Then you huffed, sighed, and followed suit.

“Why doesn’t wearing more layers protect you from the cold? This shit sucks!!” Toby, enraged, started walking back out of the water, but only after he had gone far out enough to submerge his head several times.

“I tried to tell you,” you couldn’t help but laugh as you watched him hold his arms out like a scarecrow as he went, clothes dripping profusely.

“This was a very bad idea! Why did you let me do this? Aw…”

Before the guilt of the accusation could settle in, he was onto a new topic. “That’s crazy, though. Who knew a sweater wouldn’t protect you from cold water? Stupid. Can we warm up in your cabin please?”

Eager to help, you jumped at the opportunity. “Of course.”

You didn’t have much in your cabin, but you had a wood stove and a kettle and two cups. Hot tea warmed your bellies while the fire warmed your skin. You were both wearing pairs of your oversized pajamas, your other clothes being soaked and freezing.

Beneath your respective blankets you both huddled closer to yourselves, rubbing your arms and tucking strands of sticky hair away from your faces. 

Your knee was pressed against Toby’s, and suddenly you felt his hand resting half on his knee, half on yours.

You could see wheels turning in his head for a few seconds before he removed his hand.

“Nah, you’re even colder than I am. I was gonna suggest we huddle for more warmth, but… you’re, like, icy.”

“Unlucky me,” you laughed, nudging Toby good-naturedly. 

“Unlucky me. This totally would’ve been a good chance to hold you without all those bulky clothes on. You’re cute with them on, but with just your pajamas? Yeesh.” He sensed your owlish gaze. “That was a good ‘yeesh,’ by the way.”

You looked down bashfully. “I… think you look good in pajamas, too.”

“Really?! Gah, why do you have to be so cold? I would totally hug you right now.” Toby wrapped his blanket tighter around himself, huffing in frustration.

You had to laugh again. “Maybe next time, tiger.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, lowering himself to lay on his back. “Next time.”

He would be gone in the morning. You never knew where he went—he always insisted it was too dangerous for you to know. But he would be back. And you’d be waiting. 

Thank you so much for taking part in the event!! And thanks for reading, take care duckies <3

[something-tofightfor]

Liminality: Part 10

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Female Reader

Word Count: 8,702

Rating: We'll go with a soft NSFW; there's smut but it's not explicit.

** This chapter also contains the 'body horror' portion of the blanket warning, as there is explicit talk of Frankie's monthly transformation **

Summary: It's time. The night of the next full moon means tagging along with Frankie - and Will - when they head to the camper.

Despite only knowing each other for a short period of time, Frankie's willing to show you the most dangerous part of himself and you're more than ready to let him.

But there are other things hiding in the Green Swamp ... and they're much more dangerous than he is.

Author’s note:

This is the chapter that I've been waiting to get to for a REALLY LONG TIME. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do. (This would have been posted HOURS ago, but my power has been out all afternoon even though it's SUNNY OUT.

Please feel free to come and talk in my DMs about it if you want. I'm always here.

Masterlist (for the journal entries and all of the other 'extras' + previous chapters)

Frankie was restless in the days leading up to the next full moon, and there was no hiding it.

He wasn’t rude or mean, and he didn’t distance himself from you - but he did treat you just a little differently. And you didn’t mind at all.

You especially didn’t mind when, on the night before he was set to change, he nearly dragged you down the hallway and into his bed and spent what felt like an hour between your thighs.  He made you come twice with his mouth, Frankie’s moans mingling with yours and sending vibrations through your body that followed the waves of pleasure. 

But when you pushed him away, protesting that it was too much, he went willingly. Frankie’s head popped up and his eyes were bright, the evidence of your arousal glistening on his lips. “You alright?” His voice was husky, the man pausing long enough to take a deep breath and flick his tongue out to get a final taste. “You sounded like you -”

“I am.” You shivered, nodding. “Come up here, Francisco.” He did as you asked, though he didn’t immediately lay next to you. Instead, he kissed his way up the center of your body, turning his head to suck one nipple briefly into his mouth before releasing it and pressing his lips to the base of your throat. “Is this how you always are this time of the month?”

“I don’t know.” He took a breath and then lifted his head, meeting your eyes. “I’ve never been with anyone the night before. Never … trusted myself.” Your heart broke for him, but in the same moment, you understood exactly what he was saying. This means he trusts himself with me when he’s this vulnerable, too. It’s not just tomorrow. “Why? Did I do something wrong?” 

“No.” Cupping your hand against his cheek, you shook your head slowly. “You’re just … more enthusiastic than usual. Couple more minutes of that and I wouldn’t have made it through you actually fucking me.” His lips quirked up briefly, but he kept quiet, still watching you. “And I really want to be able to enjoy that for as long as possible.” 

You could feel him pressing against your leg. 

Even though you knew how much going down on you turned Frankie on, it was still a point of pride for you to have evidence of it. Because he’s got so much else on his mind right now, too. Urging him to close the distance with the curl of your fingers beneath his chin, you met Frankie’s lips with your own. 

It was him that broke away first, Frankie’s teeth closing around your lower lip as he pulled back - and quiet words following moments later. “You could have told me to stop.” 

“I didn’t want you to.” Laughing, you dragged your fingers through the curls at the base of his skull while he settled in next to you. “I just need a couple minutes right now to breathe, and then I’ll be good to go.” He murmured in agreement, one of his arms wrapping around your midsection, but you and Frankie stayed quiet otherwise, both of you breathing heavily. 

He and Will were picking you up the following afternoon. The three of you were going to head straight to the RV, making sure that Frankie had plenty of time to get settled in before the sun set. He wanted to be the one to show you the routine, and you were on board with it. Because if I’m going to do it again, I need to know exactly how to help him. 

“Can I tell you something?” He kissed the top of your shoulder, pausing to give you a chance to reply. 

“Of course.” Turning toward him, you moved your hand so that it rested against his bicep. The new position allowed him to trail his fingertips over your lower back, the motion soothing. “What’s going on?”

“I’m worried about tomorrow.” Worried? Why? “It’s … I had them record me changing once, because I wanted to see it from someone else’s perspective, and it’s …” He winced. “I’m worried that you’ll be disgusted by -”

“If you don’t want me to watch you shift, that’s fine. It’s up to you what you show me.” You spoke quietly, keeping your voice even. “But it’s not going to change anything, Frankie.” Leaning in, you kissed him, letting your lips linger against his for long seconds. “Me being in your life isn’t only about being around for the best parts… and I’m not just talking about your wolf.” 

You meant it - you needed Frankie to know that you didn’t expect him to sugarcoat things for you, no matter how terrible they were. But only if he wants to include me. “Thought I had to put a ring on someone’s finger for them to be around for better or worse.” He’s joking, but … shit. That is what I just offered to do. He paused, saying your name and waiting until you pulled back enough that you could meet his eyes - and see that he was actually amused - to continue. “There’s a lot of bad shit. Shit I haven’t told you or showed you or -”

“We’ll get there.” You squeezed his arm, nodding without looking away. “We’ve only known each other a little while, there’s still plenty of time. This just … circumstances forced a few things a little early, and now we’ve got to deal with them.”

“Sure as fuck did.” He grinned, some of the tension breaking. But it was only a momentary reprieve, because the worry settled back in his features a few seconds later. “I really don’t want to scare you away, and this might. You can tell me it’ll be fine all you want, but until -”

“Until I see it for myself, neither of us are going to know what’s going to happen.” You nodded, chewing on your lower lip. “Frankie, I don’t want this to be more stressful for you than it already is. That wouldn’t be helpful at all.” 

“I keep thinking about the fact that tonight might be the last night I get this with you.” He closed his eyes, letting out a long, shaky breath. “And I don’t want … that would be fucking awful.” You didn’t reply right away, instead letting his words sink in. 

He wouldn’t have said anything if he didn’t truly think that there was a possibility that he’d lose you. And the thought of losing you wouldn’t have been so terrifying to him if he didn’t feel strongly for you. Shit. 

“It won’t be.” You brought your hand up, running your knuckles over the stubble on his cheek. “At least not by my choice, ‘Fish.” You were certain of that - of the fact that whatever he showed you the following night, it wouldn’t change the way you felt about him, at least not in the ways he was concerned with. “You’re asking me to trust you tomorrow, right?” He nodded, narrowing his eyes. “Then you need to trust me, too.” 

Your hand slid back, fingers curling around the back of his neck before you urged him closer. Please trust me. “I do.” He nodded and then kissed you, exhaling through his nose without pulling away. “I’m sorry.” 

“I don’t need an apology, Frankie.” You spoke against his lips, taking the lower one between your teeth at the end of your sentence and tugging. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” He sighed, the hand on your back sliding down to your hip and squeezing. “But…” You traced over the curve of his lip with the tip of your tongue, the ends of your fingers delving into the hair that curled against the nape of his neck. “I do need you to fuck me right now.” 

You weren’t usually so blunt with him, because you didn’t need to be. But he needs a distraction. And he needs to know that I want him. “That’s what you want?” You nodded, humming as his mouth returned to yours, Frankie pushing you backwards and then letting some of his body weight rest on you. “Good.” He rocked his hips forward, grinding against your thigh. “Me too.” 

Frankie swallowed your reply in a deep kiss, and for the next few minutes, you let your mind wander. You knew that sex as a distraction wasn’t the best call - but rationalized it as necessary in that case when he finally pushed up and away from you, reaching for the bedside table and the condoms there. The following day was going to be stressful, and the more relaxed both of you were when the sun set and he changed, the better. 

You did come a third time that night - but it happened almost 30 minutes later - Frankie’s orgasm triggering your body’s response, which was no less intense than it had been earlier. And instead of pulling out immediately, he held you close for a long time after, his face pressed to your neck. 

It was almost impossible to tell because of your ragged breathing, but you could have sworn you heard - and felt - him speaking against your skin, Frankie’s hold on you secure. You didn’t want to put him on the spot, so you didn’t question him about if he’d spoken - or what he might have said. 

And instead of continuing your earlier conversation, you and Frankie simply climbed back into bed after cleaning yourselves up, his arms wound tightly around you from behind. It was you that said goodnight first, sleep already creeping up on you thanks to how exhausted your body was. He spoke his reply directly into your ear, the arm around your body tightening - though his voice was low. 

He fell asleep before you, the worry gone and his body relaxing as soon as his breathing evened out. You weren’t far behind him, but  you took the time to link your fingers together against your stomach, his curling against yours, even though he was already snoring softly. Nothing is going to change. It can’t. 

You fell asleep holding his hand and with the comforting feeling of his body pressed against you from behind … and neither of you moved until morning. 

— 

Will and Frankie showed up to get you early, but you were already packed and ready to go by the time the SUV pulled into your driveway.

After putting your overnight bag into the trunk with both of theirs, you climbed into the back seat, taking a deep breath. “Hey, guys.” Will said hello in return without looking at you, already backing out of the driveway, but Frankie turned to look into the backseat, his eyes bright beneath the brim of his hat. “Francisco.” 

You could tell he was nervous; you could see how rigidly he was holding himself. At your tone of voice, he relaxed marginally, lips twitching upward into a small smile. “Hey.” He paused and you reached forward, squeezing his arm. There’s no reason for you to be so nervous. “You ready?” 

“I am. I brought snacks, because -”

“We’re going to stop before we get to the RV.” Will looked back at you in the rearview mirror, arching a brow. “Couple fast food places right off the freeway. And there’s stuff in the camper, too.” Frankie reached up and covered your hand with his, but then turned to face forward, settling back and against the seat. “It’s about an hour drive, so you should get comfortable. ‘Fish always picks the music, so sorry ‘bout that in advance.” 

That got a laugh out of you and a groan from Frankie, but it also lightened the mood, which seemed necessary. “I also brought headphones.” You cleared your throat, settling back against the seat. “Just in case.” 

Will’s laugh filled the interior of the car, but it was drowned out when Frankie spun the volume dial on the radio - and then started to sing along. Maybe this is going to be OK. 

— 

After you got to the RV, the three of you sat inside with the door open, eating. It was a little before 6, which meant that you had just over an hour before Frankie needed to start getting ready. 

As the minutes passed, you noticed the change in mood, though you and Will kept up a steady stream of conversation and Frankie tried to do the same. Will seemed anxious, while Frankie’s nerves became more and more apparent, the man repeatedly removing his hat so that he could drag his fingers through his unruly curls over and over. 

It was difficult to watch - and you made a mental note to ask Will later if that behavior was normal, or if Frankie was acting differently because you were there. Either way, it didn’t matter, because as soon as you were done eating, Will stood up, wiping his hands against he front of his pants and clearing his throat. 

“I’m going to head up into the trees.” He looked between you and Frankie, taking and releasing a deep breath. “I’ll be down as soon as you head out, ‘Fish. Don’t forget the t-”

“The tracker. I know.” He nodded once, his tone sharp. “I’m good, Ironhead.” 

“I’ll be watching at sundown, but not before.” Will said your name, waiting until you’d shifted your attention to him to continue. “I will not let anything happen to you.” Do you really need to say this? It’s just going to - “Frankie made me promise to say that to you while he was still here. I don’t think you have anything to worry about, but -”

“I’m not taking any chances.” Frankie straightened up, reaching out to take your hand. “Not with you.” There was nothing else to say, and so you just nodded, the two of you waiting until Will gathered his things and headed out the RV’s door, closing it behind him. And then when it was quiet, you watched Frankie carefully, waiting. 

You wanted to let him explain things in his own time, and in the way he wanted to - and that meant not leading him. Taking the opportunity to look around the small space, you grinned at the sight of the photos that decorated the walls.

“We figured that since this belongs to all of us, it should look the part.” Frankie stepped toward one of the bulletin boards, pointing. “Took this on our first deployment together.” His finger moved down and to the right, jabbing at a shot of the five of them that looked much more recent. “This one was from South America.” 

Stepping closer, you took a better look at the picture, which was of them sitting on a patio together, the cheerful lights strung above them illuminating a wooden table that was littered with cans and bottles, but keeping the background in shadows. “Before everything?”

“Before Lorea, yeah. That was the night we agreed to help Pope.” Frankie sighed, lowering his arm. “Was pretty much the last good night we had before everything went to shit.” 

“At least you didn’t come home empty handed after everything you guys went through.” He laughed, but the sound was bitter, Frankie backing away from the photos and turning to unlock a crate that was sitting on the other side of the room. 

“Yeah, the money’s a nice little consolation prize.” He bent down, pulling a folded blanket and a notebook out. “Especially now that I have to deal with this every month.” He reached back in, pausing before he withdrew his hand. “I know you brought your gun, but I’m going to need you to carry this one tonight.” 

He turned back to face you, holding out a revolver and a holster, his expression serious. “Why?”

“Because you need to have something that’s got silver bullets in it, and if you used your gun, you’d have to explain why you’ve got them in there already.” You hadn’t even thought of that, but it made total sense. That would have been a mistake on my end. “They still carry when they’re with me. Ironhead’s got a gun of his own up there. This one’s a backup, but he’ll be looking to make sure I gave it to you.”  

“Of course.” You took it from him, undoing your belt and sliding the holster onto it. “Anything else?”

“The notebook’s to keep track of the time the change starts, and when I come back.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Ironhead’s focused on numbers, so leave that to him tonight. I don’t know what the fuck they do while I’m out there, but I’m sure he’ll fill you in.” You nodded, swallowing before you took a step closer to Frankie. “The blanket’s because I get naked before. I didn’t the first couple times and I ruined my goddamn clothes, so now I just …” He shrugged. “Take ‘em all off.” 

“Do I bring it back in once you’re gone?”

“No. Whoever’s out here usually just moves it underneath the awning on the side of the RV so that I have a little privacy when I come back. If it’s rainin’, yeah. Bring it inside and then set it out again right before sunrise, but otherwise …” He shrugged again. “C’mon, let me show you the rest of it. We’re running out of time.” 

For the next thirty minutes, Frankie showed you the rest of the inside of the RV, carefully explaining the measures that they’d taken to protect themselves - and him. He showed you the tracking device and the app they used to monitor it, the map of the area that he tended to frequent - a peaceful place that was about fifteen miles south of the camper near a small creek  that gave him plenty of space to run. 

As the time ticked down, you could see - and feel Frankie’s demeanor change. Not only did his words come out faster, but you saw the way his body moved - fingers flexing more often, his wrist twisting back and forth by his side as he explained things to you. 

You stayed close, though, listening to him and asking questions. You made it a point to touch him, even briefly, every so often just so that he knew you weren’t going to shy away. I wouldn’t. Ever. A little after 7, he stopped abruptly, straightening up and turning to look at you. “I need to go outside.”  

“Of course. Do you need me to leave while you get undressed?” 

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” That got a smile out of him - and a laugh out of you, but as you stood back and leaned against the edge of the dining room table, you stopped laughing. He methodically removed his clothes - starting with his shoes and socks and then moving to his shirt, the man taking everything off and tossing it into the chest that he’d pulled things from previously. “Keeps my scent hidden. Seems like a good idea with this other wolf running around.” 

You agreed, murmuring the words back to him. “You said your senses are heightened now, right?” 

“They are.” He nodded, reaching down to unbutton his jeans, slowly sliding them down and over his hips. “Soon as I go outside it’s going to … I don’t know how to explain it. Explode, maybe?” Frankie looked back over his shoulder at you, smirking. “You smell amazing right now, by the way.” That took you by surprise, as did Frankie’s wink before he faced forward again and then stepped out of his jeans, bending down to scoop them off the floor. 

You couldn’t help the way your teeth clamped down on your lower lip when he straightened up, rolling his shoulders back before reaching for the waistband of his underwear - the only thing he had on. Your reaction to the sight of his body was instinctual and because he’d just admitted that everything was heightened, you knew he’d sensed it, too. 

Frankie gave you a much longer than necessary glimpse of his bare ass before he leaned forward and picked the blanket up, wrapping it around his shoulders. “When we go outside, we’re gonna go and stand in the middle of the clearing. Will’s going to be able to see everything, so…” He spun to face you, and for the first time, you saw true worry in his eyes. “I’m going to say goodbye to you in here, if that’s alright.” 

“More than alright.” Closing the distance between you, you reached for Frankie, taking his face between your palms. “It’s going to be fine.” He nodded but didn’t say anything before you kissed him, moving in as close as you possibly could with him holding the blanket closed around himself. 

You knew you had very little time - and when Frankie stepped forward, backing you up and against the closed door, you realized just how little. 

He’d never kissed you quite like he did then. 

What started out with you in the lead quickly shifted to something more, his mouth hungry against yours, Frankie’s hips rolling forward and keeping you pinned against the wood. You felt him growl into your mouth - the sound needy as his tongue stroked yours, and you moved a hand into his hair, yanking his head to the side as you let out a moan that only made him inch even closer. 

The desire was bleeding from his body. 

Frankie was trembling against you, and you had no idea how he managed to keep his hands off of you and firmly holding the blanket. But it’s a good thing he did because him touching me now is … He broke the kiss, but instead of pulling away, Frankie lowered his head and nosed along your cheek and then your jaw before dropping his head so that he could nuzzle against your neck. “What are you -”

“The way you smell right now is fucking …” He groaned, and you felt him press an openmouthed kiss to your pulse point. “Nothing like it.” Dragging your fingers through his hair as he took a deep breath, you closed your eyes and inhaled too, trying to see if there was anything different that you could sense.

He still smelled like Frankie - faint cologne and clean sweat, a hint of laundry detergent from the blanket - and even though you knew what was going to happen in only a few minutes time, you still didn’t feel any differently about him. 

The motion of his hips stopped as you felt his chest expand with a few deep inhales, followed by Frankie pressing a lingering kiss to the side of your neck before he nipped at it with his teeth and straightened up. “Couldn’t help it.” He raised a brow, meeting your eyes. “At least this time I can blame the wolf.” 

“We should go outside.” Rubbing your thumb over his cheek, you tilted your head to the right. “I don’t want you to cut it too close.” You saw uncertainty in his eyes for a few seconds but then he nodded, closing them and stepping back.

You moved away from the door and then pulled it open, walking down the few steps that led to the forest floor. He followed, but was silent - and didn’t break that silence until you were about ten yards from the RV.

“Flip the snap on that holster.” He swallowed, shifting back and forth on his feet without looking away. “But don’t put your hand on the butt. I don’t … know how I’ll react to that.” You nodded, wetting your lips. “I’m not going to get mad if you look away. This is all new for you.”

“You’re going to let me see?” Your eyes widened. “Frankie, I thought -”

“I am.” He rolled his neck out before he tilted his head back and looked up at the sky. “I need you to know everything.” He winced and shuddered, his eyes shut. It’s happening. “Step back.” His voice was lower than usual, and when Frankie opened his eyes, you saw that they were lighter, his pupils wide. “And if it even seems like I’m going to -”

“You won’t. But I know.” You tapped the gun, smiling at him. “It’s alright, Frankie.” He wrinkled his nose, and you watched as the blanket twisted in his hands as he tightened his grip. “I’m right here.” 

The clearing was silent, and though it should have bothered you to know that Will likely had a gun pointed at the two of you, you were entirely focused on Frankie. You wondered what the beginning of his change would look like - if it would start slowly or happen all at once, resulting in the man in front of you disappearing as he became something else. I’m going to find out. I - 

“Don’t…” He groaned, stomping one foot and gritting his teeth. “Don’t run. Turn away if you need to, but please don’t do anything that might make me chase you.” Oh, Frankie. You knew it was dangerous, but you didn’t even try to stop yourself from taking the few steps forward that were necessary to put yourself directly in front of him. “What the fuck are you -”

“Stop worrying about me.” Placing your hand flat on his chest - palm over his frantically beating heart - you stared directly into his eyes, which were already more gold than brown. “Focus on what you need to focus on, Francisco.” He went still, but then nodded, his gaze flicking down to your mouth and then back up. “I’m not afraid of you.” 

Leaning closer, you kissed him on the cheek and then backed off, knowing that you were already pressing your luck. 

“You might not say that in a few minutes.” I doubt it. He dropped the blanket suddenly, exposing his entire body to you - and for the first time since you’d met Frankie, you looked at him with something other than want. 

There was no real way for you to describe what was happening except to say that it looked like everything was stretching. The bones in his arms and legs were elongated, as were the ones in his hands, which forced his fingers to curl inward toward his palms. Even Frankie’s chest seemed to expand, and you watched in disbelief as the shape of his body changed, breath catching in your throat at the sight in front of you. He’s got to be in so much pain. 

Frankie stayed quiet, though, and when you looked up and met his eyes again it was you that made the first sound. A gasp tumbled from your lips before you brought a hand up to cover your mouth at the sight of his face. If not for the tangle of curls on his head and the lingering furrow between his brows, you wouldn’t have even known it was him, because it wasn’t a man’s face you were looking at - it was that of a wolf. 

He bared his teeth as he fell forward and his hands hit the ground, but the only noise you heard was the grunt of the impact. You had no idea how he stayed silent. No matter what he’d said, the process of changing had to be painful, and you were almost certain that he’d lied to you about the way it felt in order to spare your feelings. “Oh, Frankie.” 

It slipped out before you could stop it, but he didn’t even acknowledge your words, and though you assumed he’d heard you - his human ears had become the pointed ones of a wolf - you had no way of knowing for certain. 

He dug in with his hands, leaving a few gouges in the earth, but when you watched his shoulderblades shifting beneath his skin for the final few seconds before dark fur sprouted from his body, you finally looked away, needing a second to compose yourself. 

You were crying; you felt the tears tracking hot down your cheeks, but it wasn’t because you were afraid of him. Instead, you were angry for him, upset that every 30 days, he had to relive the transformation twice in the span of twelve hours. Nothing could prepare me for that. Not a goddamn thing. 

A whining noise drew your attention again, and when you turned your head back toward Frankie, you gasped a second time, lowering your hand. 

The man you knew was gone - and in his place was the largest wolf you’d ever seen, sitting on his haunches and staring at you with its head tilted to the side. “Hey, Francisco.” Reaching up with one hand, you wiped away your tears and gave him a smile. “Look at you.” 

You took a few seconds to do just that, your heart thudding in your chest at the sight of a werewolf, not even ten feet from you, after years of searching. He was much bigger than you’d imagined; the top of his head reaching almost to the center of your chest, and his shoulders were broad, mirroring the man in human form. 

He pawed at the ground, and you watched as he scented the air, never looking away from you. You wanted to move closer, but didn’t want to spook Frankie, so you cleared your throat and took a breath, giving him a smile. “Can you understand me?” He nodded and then blinked twice, but he stayed put. Fucking weird. “Will you come closer?” Wetting your lips, you laughed, the sound nervous. “Only if you want to. I -” 

He moved as you spoke, rising and then slowly trotting forward, but stopping before he was close enough for you to touch. Even in the slowly darkening twilight, you could see that his wolf mimicked the way Frankie looked as a man, and you wondered if that was the case for all of them. 

Shaggy fur in a deep chestnut threaded with gray covered his entire body, but his face was lighter, especially on his cheeks and snout. With a genuine laugh you leaned closer, biting your lip at the sight of his cheek. He tilted his head to the side, staring at you, and it was easy to read his curiosity.

“The patches in your beard.” Reaching up, you tapped your own face. “You’ve still got them.” For whatever reason, seeing that was what tipped you over the edge and put you truly at ease. Because he’s still Frankie. “Even as a wolf, I’d know that handsome face anywhere.” He whined again, ducking his head, and when he looked up, you could have sworn he was smiling. Good. Good, he can see… I’m not afraid. “That looked like it hurt, Frankie. But thank you for letting me watch.” 

Crossing your arms over your chest, you stared at the wolf in front of you, fighting the urge to reach out and touch him. 

You didn’t know how he’d react to that - had no idea if anyone had ever touched him in that form, or if he even wanted anyone to. Why wouldn’t he? You felt oddly calm, even though your heartbeat was still elevated, and as you eyed Frankie, you realized that Ashley and Alec hadn’t been lying about the size of wolves. He’s huge. And if the other one is this big, too… I’d stand no chance, especially if he was attacking me from up close. 

“Am… am I allowed to touch you?” Gritting your teeth, you swiped at your face with one hand. “Fuck, that’s a stupid question, I just -” But apparently, it wasn’t, because Frankie rose to all fours and took another cautious step toward you, putting himself within arm’s reach. You had no idea what to do, and so you held out one hand toward him, proud to see that it was almost completely steady. 

He moved his head, turning toward your outstretched hand to sniff it, and then you moved on autopilot, stepping forward and lifting your hand so that you could slide it between his ears, fingers curling into the fur there. It’s not as soft as it usually is. You still grinned at the feel of it, your other hand moving to the side of his neck and stroking downward. 

“You’re gorgeous, Francisco.” Humming as  he stepped forward again, nudging your hip, you kept going. “And you’re fucking huge, and if I didn’t know it was you, I’d be …” You sighed, stroking his fur. “You’re intimidating, even when you’re just sitting there. Thank you for not scaring the fuck out of me.” He nudged you again, rubbing the side of his face against your hip, and then without warning, he broke away from your touch and circled around your legs, head lowered. “You still don’t like compliments, even when you’re like this, hmm?” 

His head shot up and you somehow knew that if he were human, he’d have rolled his eyes. But when he took a seat in front of you again, you took a deep breath and crouched down, bringing yourself closer to his eye level. 

The two of you stared at each other for long seconds, and the longer you looked, the more of Frankie you saw in front of you. The wolf sat proudly, though his head was tilted to the side as he eyed you.There was warmth in his gaze, along with a sense of calm that you hadn’t expected with how nervous he’d been only minutes earlier. 

He’d given you permission to touch him, and so you did, reaching out and stroking the fur along the side of his face and then down his neck, following the motion of your hand with your eyes. He repositioned his paws, inching marginally closer, and at that your smile widened, a barely there nod of your head accompanying it. His fur lightened as it got closer to the ends of his legs, and you were surprised to see what looked like a black smudge atop the left paw. He must have had that one when he was bitten. “Frankie, have you ever…” You touched it, looking up. “Your tattoo, it’s….” 

He lowered his head further, and when you felt the press of his wet nose against the back of your hand you finally moved it away, letting him see. The noise he made in response was almost startled, which made you laugh, and forced you into a sitting position, giving you a chance to look up at him. 

He straightened up again and stared at you, blinking slowly, and then Frankie extended a paw and rested it on your knee, the movement cautious. You reached for it, lifting it slowly, and when you pushed gently on his toes, you saw the true size of his claws, as well as noticed the fact that his paw itself was massive, and much larger than your palm. You wondered if he was considered small for a wolf, and then wondered if Ashley would allow you to see any of her pack during a full moon so you could compare. 

“Frankie, the fact that you’re like this with me now …” You met his eyes again, taking and holding a deep breath. “This is incredible. You’re incredible.” He ducked his head again but it didn’t last long, because he drew his paw from your hold and then moved forward, lowering his head and sniffing at your bare arm. You felt it moments later - the warmth and wet of his tongue as he licked the back of your hand. “Oh. Oh, ok…” 

You moved then, raising both arms and putting them around his neck, turning your head so that you could bury your face in his fur. If you hadn’t been certain before, that moment made it clear that you loved him, wolf and all. How could someone not love him?

Frankie let the weight of his head rest on your shoulder, and you head him whining, the sound loud - followed by the press of his paw against your other leg. He’s trying to hug me back. Oh, Frankie. 

He pulled away first, but didn’t go far, and even though you stayed mostly still when he started, your eyes widened as you felt him nosing at your neck, his breath hot against your skin. Shit. He’s… 

Frankie licked your neck twice, and then rubbed his face against it, whining loudly as he backed off. But that time, he took a playful stance, his tail wagging back and forth and his ears swiveling as he watched you, tongue lolling out of his mouth. 

“Oh, you’re in a good mood now?” He nodded again, agreeing, and when you pushed to your feet, he stretched, front paws out and that half of his body lowered while the back end remained upright, tail still moving from side to side. “You need to go, don’t you.” He set his paws and then shook his body, yipping out a reply to you at the end of the movement. “Then go, Frankie. Run. Have a good night.” Stepping forward, you reached down and found the metal chain around his neck, trailing your fingers over it until you found the tracking device. “I’ll keep an eye on you. We’ll keep an eye on you, alright?” 

He barked then, turning his head to the right and then looking up, and you knew it was looking for Will, even though he likely couldn’t see him. He barked twice more - the sound carrying, and then Frankie backed away further, putting distance between you. 

Part of you didn’t want him to go. You wanted him to stay in the clearing with you all night. But you knew that he had to, that he needed to run and stretch his legs and let the wolf’s instincts take over for the few hours that it could. And it would be selfish of me to ask him not to do that. 

“Be safe.” You said his name, crossing your arms. “I’ll see you in the morning, alright?” He whined, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, though he stayed in place. What is he waiting for? You watched him closely, Frankie turning his head to look up, and even though you weren’t sure, you spoke again. “Go ahead. It’s not going to scare me. Let me hear you.” 

Your permission had been what he was waiting for, and only moments later, Frankie sat and tipped his head back, letting out the loudest, longest howl you’d ever heard in your life. It didn’t scare you, because you knew it was him, but the sound was chilling, and somehow different from the regular wolf calls you’d heard previously. And it’s different than last month’s, too. It sounds … fuller. 

He howled a second time, and you couldn’t take your eyes off of him, watching as he held his position, nose pointed toward the sky and his broad shoulders set. It was an incredible thing to see - and it would have still been incredible even if it wasn’t Frankie that you were watching. But the fact that it is him… it’s more special. 

The howl trailed off, and Frankie rose to all fours again, turning away and toward the woods to the south. At the edge of the clearing, he stopped and looked back, pausing long enough to howl again - that one long and low, almost sad. 

And then he was gone, disappearing through the trees and into the gathering darkness. 

You waited a solid minute and then deflated, dropping to your knees and covering your face with both hands. You were overwhelmed - there was no way around it, and since you knew that he probably wouldn’t be able to hear it, you started crying again, shoulders shaking. 

It had gone much better than you’d imagined it would. Frankie had seemed at ease with you in way that you’d never expected, and despite your tears, you weren’t scared or upset at what you’d seen. It made you sad, of course, but you were convinced even more than you had been earlier that you had nothing to fear from Frankie, even when he was a wolf. 

It was still almost a slap in the face to have learned just how large werewolves were, and exactly what your relatives had expected you to face in order to complete your revenge quest. Frankie’s gentle behavior was, as the guys had said, somewhat misleading, because the others wouldn’t be like that, especially around someone that they didn’t know. And the Chaos wolves are especially dangerous for someone that’s accustomed to a wolf they know. 

Reaching up, you rubbed at the side of your neck and then reached out with your other hand to touch the spots in the ground that he’d disturbed, fingers trailing over the claw marks and then coming to rest in one of his pawprints. A wolf the size of Frankie could easily overpower an adult human. A wolf the size of Frankie without the self restraint of a former Army Special Forces helicopter pilot could do it before the other person even knew what was happening. “Fuck.” 

You hung your head, shaking it back and forth. Yes, you had a better idea of what you’d be up against when finding a Chaos wolf, but it made the odds seem so much more stacked against you. “You alright?”

You shot to your feet at the sound of the voice, your hand automatically going for the gun on your hip as you whirled around. Will stood a few feet away, both hands held up with his palms out and a smirk on his face. Jesus. “You scared the fuck out of me, Will.” Your heart was racing, fingers frozen just above the butt of the gun.

“So let me get this straight.” He lowered his hands and then crossed his arms. “‘Fish turns into a goddamn wolf right in front of you and you’re fine. Two minutes after it happens, you’re petting him … and I’m human an’ ask if you’re doin’ alright, and you go to pull a gun out on me?” 

“I…” Wrinkling your nose, you winced. “Yeah, that’s kind of fucked, isn’t it.” Both of you laughed then, and you rubbed at your face before you said anything else. “I don’t even know what to say. That was … that happens every time?”

“Every time.” He stepped past you and reached down, picking the blanket up. “He’s quiet now, though. First few times, he screamed.” 

“He said it didn’t hurt, that it was just uncomfortable.”

“He’s a fucking liar.” He folded the blanket with precision, and then moved back toward the RV, motioning for you to follow him. “His goddamn bones grow and move. His face changes shape. I didn’t go to college and study the fuckin’ supernatural, but … the way he screamed at the beginning? I can guarantee it hurt. And it might be something he’s more used to now, but …” 

“Yeah.” It made you feel worse, but you couldn’t fault Frankie for lying to you. “So what now? He won’t be back until morning, right?” 

“Right.” Will stuffed his hands into his pockets, shrugging. “So now it’s a whole lot of sitting and waiting. We’ve got internet and TV inside. I can take you up and show you the view from the blind. We can stay out here… it’s up to you.” 

“We should probably go inside.” You rubbed at your neck again, nodding. “That way you can show me what -”

“Look.” He stepped forward, laying a hand on your shoulder. “The hardest part is over. The rest is just waiting for him to come back.” Will’s smile was small but genuine, his blue eyes bright in the single overhead bulb beneath the awning. “We’ll check his location a couple times, and update the guys once just to let them know everything’s good, but aside from that?” He tightened his fingers against your arm and then let go. “It’s just a typical night.” Unless something goes wrong. 

It was unspoken, but it hung between you. Everything’s going to be fine. Closing your eyes, you let yourself listen to the forest around you - the faint sound of bugs and the breeze, along with the hooting of a far-off owl reassuring you. Alright, Will. “Got any beer in that fridge?” 

He surprised you with a laugh, but only moments later, Will was gesturing for you to head inside in front of him. “Sure fuckin’ do.” 

— 

 Both of you dozed off a little before midnight, the TV playing some action movie from Netflix in the background. 

You woke up a few hours later, Will snoring quietly on the couch next to you, and when you stood, he didn’t move. He must have had a long day. You covered him with a blanket and then headed over for the laptop that had Frankie’s tracker displayed on the screen. 

He was still far south of where you were. For a minute or two, you watched the motion of the dot that signified his position as it moved East along the bank of the creek, wondering what he was doing and what he was feeling. 

By the information that was also on the screen, you saw that there were still hours until sunrise - and when Frankie would return. The thought of laying back down - that time on the bed instead of the couch - wasn’t appealing, and so you decided to go outside and enjoy the darkness for a little while. It’ll relax me. The sounds and the smell, and … 

Slipping your shoes back on, you grabbed the gun - but not the holster - from where you’d set it earlier and headed for the door. “Where you goin’?” Peering back at Will, you saw that he’d opened his eyes, one hand rubbing the sleep from them. “It’s -”

“Just outside for a few minutes.” Tightening your hand on the door handle, you smiled. “Need to stretch my legs, and I didn’t want to risk waking you up.” 

“Take the gun.” He cleared his throat. “Just in case.” You held it up so that you could see it, and when Will nodded, you went through the door, closing it softly behind you. 

You looked around, eyeing the circle of light that was provided from the ones strung above you and then sank down onto one of the chairs near the firepit. Moments later, you set the weapon down on the ground beside you. You couldn’t see much of the sky through the trees, but the moon was bright, and it was only when you stifled a yawn with one hand that you looked away, humming as you rubbed your eyes. 

You and Will had gone over a lot while you sipped your beers, but the thing you took away from his companionship was that the nights spent waiting for Frankie were usually very uneventful - and that being there with someone was a welcome change of pace. 

He filled in the logbook and then let you flip through the previous entries. While you clicked around through Frankie’s previous location records, he stepped outside to call his wife. They had a routine, and the fact that you were one of six - seven if you counted Yovanna - people that were included in it wasn’t lost on you. 

You’d also skirted the topic of just how close you and Frankie were. And based on Will’s posture and facial expressions, you had an idea that he was well aware of exactly how serious it was between you. That was fine with you - he was one of Frankie’s closest friends, and since Pope was also aware of where things stood, you figured that the others weren’t far behind because even though they didn’t know you well, they did know him. 

It scared you more than a little that things were moving so quickly, but you didn’t regret letting it happen that way. “Not with you, Frankie.” With a sigh, you pulled your phone out and opened your photo album, swiping through and finding one of the pictures of the two of you. You were both grinning at the camera, Frankie’s arm around your shoulders, and one of your hands holding onto his, fingers linked. 

You didn’t know what you were going to say to him when he came back and was human again, and you hoped that whatever you did manage to get out, he believed. Because I’m sure he’s still worried, even though he saw that I really wasn’t afraid of him. Sighing, you flipped back to the actual camera and then swiped to take a video, reversing the view before you pressed record. 

“Hey, you.” Staring at the screen, you thought for a few seconds. “It’s been a while since you left, but I just … I know you might not believe me when we talk next, and I wanted to tell you a couple things that I’ve been thinking about all night.” You stood and took a few steps further away from the RV, trying to be mindful of the fact that Will was likely sleeping, and the window above the couch was partially open. “I wasn’t crying earlier because I was scared. I wasn’t crying because I was … disgusted by what I saw.” 

You stopped moving, looking off to the side and then back at the phone. “I was crying because I’m upset that you’ve had to deal with this alone. I’m upset that you have to downplay how much it hurts to become the wolf every month. I’m just … I couldn’t do it, Frankie. Before I saw you tonight, I had no idea. Everything I thought was wrong.” 

You meant the transformation, but you also meant that you’d been wrong about werewolves in general. “I hope you’ll believe me when we talk, you know? I don’t want you to second guess this or me or the way I feel about you.” Because I don’t. 

You went quiet, staring at the small screen, and with the absence of your voice, you realized that the woods around you were silent, too. You didn’t hear insects, and the owl from earlier was quiet. But we’re deep in the woods. There’s always noise. You looked away from the phone and then back at it, your hold on the device tightening. Unless there’s a predator close by. 

It could have been anything - a panther, a bear, a bobcat - but the same instincts that led you to Florida told you that it was something else… and that it was watching you. And it’s close, because it wouldn’t be quiet otherwise. You had the RV between you and the forest on one side, and thanks to the phone’s camera, you could sort of see what was happening behind you. But I want to turn around. I want the RV at my back, and … 

“It’s important that you know this, Frankie.” Your voice shook and you winced at the sound, your eyes moving over the phone screen as you peered into the darkness displayed on it. “I wouldn’t lie to you. Because I …” You trailed off at the sight of a pair of glowing eyes flashing on it from somewhere behind you, but they blinked out moments later. Whatever it is is big. “Frankie there’s something behind me.” You whispered the confession, fighting back tears. “The gun’s by the chair, I don’t have it on me and … fuck. I’m sorry. I fucked up. I’m so sorry.” 

It wasn’t him - you could sense that it wasn’t him, and the eyes - though you’d only seen them briefly - were a different color than Frankie’s. And even though it was all the way across the clearing and in the woods, you knew that you wouldn’t have time to get from where you stood to your gun before it made it to you - especially if it was as big as or bigger than he was. 

You had one play - and likely only moments to attempt it. “If this goes bad, Frankie … at least you’ll know what it looks like.” You flipped the camera and then spun so that the RV was behind you and you were facing the darkness… and  then you opened your mouth and screamed. 

“Will!” 

—    

[cleanxchii]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ʲᵘᵃⁿⁱᵗᵃ’ˢ ᵒⁿˡⁱⁿᵉ ᵈⁱᵃʳʸ.ೃ࿔*:･

HEY!! READ THIS!!

How we (yes we!!) are gonna be unreal for the summer!

In this post...

What we are going to go over:

• Skincare

• Makeup

• Workout Routines and Excercise

• Supplements

• Diets

• Fragrance

• Small Habits

So... Where do we start?

Workout Routines And Exercise.

Lets begin by knowing our current body type, a great way to know is by finding your “Kibbe Body Type” i’ll link a quiz down below for you!

This quiz is super helpful, I am a romantic for example.

Once we find out our current body type, we can find out our desired body types.

Keep in mind that theres some changes that cannot be made with just exercise, such as changing your ribcage size.

Instead we can find certain features we want from others bodys, like a bigger butt, or chest, flatter stomach and do workouts to target those!

Personally I am working on:

Building muscle in my legs, arms and abs.

Losing fat in my legs and replacing it with muscle.

Getting a flatter stomach.

Getting a fatter ass.

But I am aware this is not everyone’s goal, some people want to be taller, thinner, have a Victoria’s Secret model body.

Doing workouts by people with these desirable body types is a great option because if anyone knows how to get the body you want, its people with that body type!

Some workout yt channels to check out are..

Nina Dapper: For anyone who wants that thin, VS Model body.

Chloe Ting: Lean, built muscles.

MadFit: Balanced but not bulky.

Ive also heard about a workout called the “Le sserafim Workout” I tried it before and the struggle is real, but you’ll defo burn lots.

But in order to get your dream body, consistency is key aswell as diet, it’s usually 80% diet 20% workout. That doesn’t mean you wont see results but in order to see more results a diet and consistency would really help.

To build muscle, you’ll need lots of protein and less fat. An easy way to do that is protein powders but we’ll talk about that tomorrow!

If your too tired to workout then thats totally fine! Instead of pushing yourself to the point where you don’t enjoy exercise anymore is one of the main reasons why people stop.

Instead I do short workouts. Heres my short workout, I keep these in my journal!

Curtsy Lunges 5x12

Sumo Squats 4x12

Glute Bridges 4x12

Crunches 5x10

Bicycle Crunches 5x10

Plank (60 Seconds)

Split Squats 4x8

Lunges 2x15

Russian Twists 10x10

Wall sit (30 Seconds)

This really burns, try it before a shower or bed.

Working out actually brings out happy hormones, so it can really make us happy and feel good. I feel so proud after I complete a workout!

Working out can help us maintain a healthy weight and lifestyle!

So long story short, try working out every week, build up from 3x to around 5x. BUT!! Know your damn limits! Don’t be working out too much or you’ll burn out.

Hope this helped but i’m 100% not the best source of advice! If theres anyone to ask then let it be the person who’s body type you desire!

Anyway’s bye angels, love you!!