#this took about an hour and a half in its entirety

[catniplynx]

got autistic about warrior cats and had to make a spreadsheet

clan exclusive prefixes:

thunder (32): bay, briar, bumble, chestnut, cricket, dandelion, elder, flicker, flip, fuzzy, golden, goose, half, larch, long, lynx, moon, mumble, myrtle, pear, rook, rose, seed, snap, soot, spark, stem, sweet, thorn, thrift, thunder, tulip, weed

shadow (45): arch, badger, blaze, blizzard, bluebell, broken, brown, cinnamon, claw, cone, drift, ferret, fir, flax, flint, frond, gull, hope, jump, lavender, light, log, maggot, marigold, newt, nut, olive, pool, puddle, quiet, rat, russet, scorch, shadow, spire, stream, strike, stumpy, swamp, violet, wet, whisper, whorl, wish, yarrow

wind (25): bark, boulder, brook (HOW is that not riverclan??), brush, chive, crouch, dead, down, flail, flutter, furze, gale, heather, hickory, hill, hoot, midge, rye, sheep, slight, stork, stripe, whisker, whistle, woolly

river (27): copper, crooked, curl, cypress, duck, fog, hail, haven, hay, heavy, loud, mallow, minnow, misty, mossy, otter, perch, pike, primrose, river, rush, shimmer, shy, sneeze, soft, swan, vixen, wave

sky (26): bounce, brave, creek, curly, ebony, fin, fallen, fawn, fennel, fidget, fringe, gravel, hatch, kite, lichen, mistle, mottle, nectar, odd, parsley, ridge, root, sandy, sharp, shining, snip

sky again but the daylight warriors in a separate category (5): bella, billy, harry, harvey, riley (31 total with regular skyclan)

notes:

-windclan has the fewest named cats of any clan, being one fewer than skyclan

-to no one's surprise, thunderclan has the absolute fucking most cats

-shadowclan is the only clan to not have a 'robin'

-there are 3 separate seedpelts. all of which are from thunderclan.

-sky and wind are both used as prefixes in clans that aren't their respective clan (skyheart rc & windflight tc)

-surprisingly shadowclan has the most exclusive prefixes! some of these are because of stuff like rat and claw but some of them are cool like gull

possible errors:

to make things easier because i really need to sleep and shouldn't spend 2 hours on a project that is going to gain me nothing but autism points, i just copied the entire list of each clan category on the wiki and put it into a spreadsheet and compared the lists. this means that cats that switched clans, like yellowfang, may appear in multiple clans. where cats switched clans i tried to remember to put them only in their birth clan. there also could be errors in the wiki's categorization that i didn't catch such as cats that do not appear on the list (lioneye, for example, didn't appear on shadowclan's list)

[lipringlrh]

HE DOESN’T WANT ME WHEN HE’S SOBER PART 2 (LANDO ENDING)

read: part one | logan ending

summary: lando’s your best friend but seems to like you when he’s drunk. but then again, he seems to like everyone when he’s drunk.

pairing: lando norris x gn!reader

wc: 1.8k

Lando wouldn’t admit it to anyone but that night was the worst sleep he’d ever had. He left as soon as he found out you’d left with Lily and Alex, and made his way to your house just to find out you weren’t there. He messaged Alex to get no response and contemplated waiting outside your door until you came back, whether it be days or months, he’d wait for you. But, after almost falling asleep numerous times and getting laughed at by a group of teenagers, he made his way back to his apartment, knowing you’d be looked after.

He was awake almost all night, messaging and calling you and regretting everything in its entirety. He didn’t fully know if you had even seen him kiss the person that resembled you, he only felt it deep down, but even if you hadn’t, he shouldn’t have done it, and he could never apologise enough. He thought of how to explain his thoughts but nothing would suffice; nothing would ever be able to explain how he felt.

At some point in the early hours, he finally drifted off, but awoke not much later to an aggressive banging on his door and a voice screaming at him to hurry up. He wished the voice was you but it wasn’t and he hated it. He rushed to his door, barely having time to pull on some grey joggers before opening it to an angry Alex, very close to breaking the door down.

“Are you stupid?” Alex questioned, fuming, pushing his way into Lando’s house, “I know that you’re in love with her so what are you doing?”

Lando looked like a deer in headlights. He couldn’t explain his actions, he didn’t even want to think about them. All he remembered feeling was grief at watching you walk away, so when he found someone that looked eerily similar, he took the chance to kiss them and create the image in his mind of kissing you. It didn’t last long. He realised too quickly that they didn’t smell like you and the way they kissed wasn’t the same. He hated it, he didn’t want to kiss anyone but you.

“I know, I didn’t mean to-”

“What, you just tripped into her mouth then?” Alex questioned, pushing a finger against Lando’s chest.

“No- no. I don’t know why I did, I really love them I promise. We almost kissed but then they walked away, I was hurt, I didn’t think they wanted me,” Lando almost cried, his voice cracking.

“You do this every time you go out. You kiss her every time you go out and she follows, you don’t get to pull that card. You might be upset but I promise you’re not even feeling half of it,” Alex spat, not caring if he hurt Lando because he hurt you much more.

“Help me apologise. I need to apologise, please Alex, please help,” Lando begged, wanting you to more than anything, “Please Alex, I’ll do anything.”

Alex sighed. At that moment, he hated Lando for what he did, but he’d been wishing for you both to get together since he first saw you both together, making heart eyes at each other. He contemplated in his head whether to help or not. He always envisioned you together but always wanted what's best for you and right now he couldn’t tell if that was Lando or not. But looking at the state of him, red, wet eyes, begging for his help, he wanted to believe Lando regretted everything and would do anything to prove he loved you.

“Okay, but I’m not letting you be forgiven easily, I want you to prove it,” Alex sighed, running his hands over his face. A feeling of simultaneous relief and guilt eating him alive.

Lando promised Alex over and over again, and in between each syllable, promising himself also that he would give you the world in apologies, and whatever happened he deserved it, but even if there was the slimmest chance you could forgive him, Lando would take it and cherish it.

Alex messaged you and you told him it was fine to bring Lando over, as long as he didn’t expect much, and so they turned up less than five minutes later. Alex left you both alone in the kitchen to sit with Lily in the living room after repeating countless times he was a shout away.

You almost broke down just seeing him but managed to keep it in. You didn’t want him to explain, you didn’t care to hear it at the moment, but as soon as Alex left he began spilling out apologies and trying to explain himself, which you quickly shut up.

“I want some space,” you sighed. You wanted Lando close but you wanted everything you felt for him gone first. You couldn’t believe he ever felt the same, not after that.

“Of course, I understand,” his voice broke as he stepped back, trying to show you he would do anything you said.

“Not like that, Lando. I mean it, I don’t think I can see you for a while.”

“Oh-” he said, “When can I see you again?”

“I’m not sure, I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be, this is my fault,” he sighed, clearly upset and looking at the ground, “I’ll go, I’ll see you soon.”

After he left, you broke down crying, debating your decision on if you handled it right. You already missed him, and still loved him, but you also didn’t want to see him. Alex explained the whole morning, and his perspective, giving you hope you could fix it with Lando, especially after Alex’s approval, which you trusted more than anything.

The next few times you saw him were at hangouts with your shared friends. You knew he’d be there as none of your friends would invite him unless you were completely sure you didn’t mind him there. He stayed away, but didn’t make it awkward to the people around you, and always gave you a shy smile when you caught his eye.

He didn’t try to text or call again, despite wanting to more than anything, and instead waited for you to make the first move whenever you were ready. You had missed him more than anything, in both an “I love him” and “he’s my best friend” way, and it was killing you from being away from him, especially after how well he listened to your instructions.

You were at a mutual friend's get-together, a small barbecue in a back garden when you decided it was time. You had been debating texting him but after seeing him, you decided you couldn’t wait.

He was standing alone in a corner beside a flower patch and some grass, drink in hand, and surveying everyone that was there when you walked over. He didn’t know how to greet you and so awkwardly moved his hands between going for a hug or a handshake. You laughed and hugged him, both of you holding on tightly, unhappy to let go.

“I’ve missed you,” you whispered gently, looking down and playing with your fingers, slightly nervous to admit it to him after all this time.

“I’ve missed you too,” he grins, adding on, “So much,” with a quiet whisper.

“How’ve you been?” you asked, trying to make small talk before delving right in.

“Okay, I’ve not really done much. Races have been okay.”

“I saw,” you smiled, “You’ve done really well.”

“You watched?” he questioned, a little surprised. You met his eyes and nodded, explaining how you could never miss one.

“Do you want to talk inside?” you asked, heart pounding as you said it. He nodded immediately, without hesitation, and followed you in through the double glass doors into the kitchen, but only after picking out a daisy from the grass next to him and offering it out to you, causing both of you to grin.

He closed the doors behind you both, blocking out as much other noise as possible, ready for you to begin. “I want to know how you feel about this and about me,” you started, voice shaky.

“I’m sorry, I’m still so sorry. I love you and I want what’s best for you and I can’t even find an excuse, I was being stupid and thinking how you’d never want me. It was all nothing, you’re the only person that’s ever meant anything, I’m so sorry. I will do anything to fix this- anything.”

“Lan,” you let out a breath, “You still want me?”

“More than anything,” he grinned and you stepped forward to reach him, locking your arms around his neck.

Your fingers tangled themselves in his hair as you pull his face down until his lips are almost touching yours. He was smiling so much you thought it might be impossible to kiss him but you pulled him into you anyway, finally kissing him again.

“Stop smiling,” you laughed, pulling away to say it before immediately kissing him again.

“What? Can I not be happy? I’m getting my girl back,” he pulled away, grinning harder, then trying to drag you back in, which was almost successful until you pulled away at the last second.

“I can barely kiss you like this and I’d really, really like to,” you giggled, tugging him back again to enjoy another impatient kiss.

Your hands were running all over his head, completely ruining his hair, but he didn’t care. His hands were wrapped around your waist, holding you impossibly close. When you finally parted he still kept you close, resting his forehead on yours.

“Are you sure you want this?” he questioned, his breath still heavy.

You kissed his cheek and looked straight into his eyes, “More than anything, I promise,” you paused for a moment, “But you’re going to have to grovel to repay all the lost time we’ve had.”

“I’m going to prove to you that I’m all in, that I want this more than I could possibly explain,” Lando promised, meaning every word. He was already planning out exactly what he wanted to do - he knew he had to work to become your official boyfriend, but he would do everything possible for you.

You just stared at him, showcasing the biggest smile you’ve ever had, eyes full of love, knowing you weren’t ever going to let each other go or even risk it again.

“God I love you,” he grinned, ignoring the fact he still hadn’t caught his breath and pulling you into another, more intimate, kiss.

taglist in reblogs

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

The Good Omens Musical Masterpost🎵❤

How it started :)

Some time before 2013: Vicki Larnach, the australian composer and lyricist, read the Good Omens book, imagined figures dancing on stage with brilliant music and thought, ‘Ah, I’m gonna ask Terry Pratchet and Neil Gaiman if I can turn it into a musical.’ and sent an email to the publishers. The next day she got an email saying, ‘We don’t want a musical but Terry’s coming to Australia, so come and say hello and tell us what you got.’

Rob Wilkins came down to meet Vicki and Jim Hare - Vicki's husband and writer - and took them to meet Terry. They spent an hour and a half with them where Terry asked ‘piercing questions’, had tea with them and they showed Terry a song that Vicki wrote (about the Chattering Nuns). Terry said to Rob, ‘Rob, write and email to Neil, “Dear Neil, this is Terry. I’m sitting in front of two hippies from Sydney and they want to make a musical out of Good Omens and I’m tempted to let them do it.”’ which was the best email they ever heard and then Terry said, ‘Okay, you have me curious.’ - it was because of the Nuns song which sounded like the book. ‘I’m gonna give you six months, come back with a first draft libretto and five songs.’

They then sent it to Terry who sent it to Gaiman. Terry said, ‘I really like it, you’re moving story, you’re doing all the right things, but where’s showstopper, where’s the toe-tapper, you know I need people to go to intermission just snapping their fingers with the song they just can’t get out of their head, and I haven’t heard that.’ - and they realized that they were so busy serving the story they forgot to do the wow-factor, but found it very encouraging from Terry that he wanted to make it better.

They went through the whole book again to find a centrepiece - and they found it  when Warlock is growing up and Aziraphale and Crowley are with him, and spent months working just on that one thing and called ‘All Living Things’ [the song at the start of this post :)] which is a line from the book.*’ Terry gave that song to a person he knew and asked him to play it to his wife with no context and when the next day the person said that his wife woke up still singing the song Terry said to Vicki and Jim: ‘Well, that’s what I asked you to do.’ 

* [“This here’s Brother Slug,” the gardener would tell him, “and this tiny little critter is Sister Potato Weevil. Remember, Warlock, as you walk your way through the highways and byways of life’s rich and fulsome path, to have love and reverence for all living things.” “Nanny says that wivving fings is fit onwy to be gwound under my heels, Mr. Fwancis,” said little Warlock, stroking Brother Slug, and then wiping his hand conscientiously on his Kermit the Frog overall.]

Vicki and Jim got the permission to being adapting it as a musical in 2013.

Vicki and Jim on it a couple of years ‘fumbling about’, took it as far as they could and decided to bring another person into it: Jay-James Moody

In 2015, Jay James-Moody joined the collaboration initially as a dramaturge and directorial eye, eventually evolving into co-book writer. Vicki, James and Jay have continued to evolve through countless more revisions and a number of private development readings with the support, time and talent of numerous wonderful Australian performers testing the material.

In November 2017, the musical was presented in its then-current form and entirety for the first time before an audience of over 500 eager attendees. The cast included Luke Joslin, Lachlan O’Brien, Nancye Hayes, Barry Quin, Brett O’Neill, Lauren McKenna, Nicholas Craddock, Paul Capsis, Rob Johnson, Amy Lehpamer, Debora Krizak, Blake Erickson, Nat Jobe, Ana Maria Belo, Jordan Hare, Bella Thomas, Anthony Abrakmanov and Samson Hyland.

Following a rapturous response to this reading it continued to be refined and developed.

In 2019, ten days before the show came out they did their last presentation, since then they’ve been to London and shown a videotape of that workshop to Gaiman and Rob Wilkins which was ‘a pretty heartstopping experience’.

Differences between the musical and the book

The ending of the musical is a bit different.

It opens with the burning of Agnes Nutter and Aziraphale and Crowley are introduced there. 

Act One ends with them ‘essentially breaking up’ because of a huge argument and they dissolve their friendship, Act Two starts with the first time they meet.

The Future?

What is the future for the musical: in 2021 they said that they need to work on some things and then they hope to do another run, initially in Australia.

There will be a CD of the soundtrack available when the show is produced in it’s full version.

In 2024 on insta they said that it is in "complicated process of rights to stage Good Omens" and "We appreciate your support and patience of the progress or seeming lack therof, of Good Omens the musical but we assure you, we will bring you the show in the next few years."

Videos

Vicki, Jim and Jay talking 46min about the musical (this video was shown at the Ineffable Con 3 in 2021 :))

Sizzle Reel 6min

Anathema singing The Perfect Place

Crowley calling Dagon to check on the hellhound

Shadwell and Newt

Aziraphale vanishing Hastur 👀

Links

Webpage

Instagram - a lot of more bts videos and pics :)

How to support?

Subsribe to the instagram page and like and comment that you want the musical on posts :)❤. If you want to be a sponsor or donor, there is contact on their webpage.

[moralesluvr]

ok but being friends w benefits with miguel wouldn’t even work out because you’d fall in love—yes, you’d fall first. but he fell harder, the passionate sex didn’t help either because when when you got on top to ride him for the first time, he lost his shit mid round and threw you off him (and the helped you up of course <3)

this is nothing but facts…like the idea of being fwbs came up at work one day because you noticed he had this pent up steam he could never quite get rid of, plus he was attractive and so were you, no issue there right?

but the first time miguel touched you he was gentle with you, really caring and that shocked you because it was so contrast to his normal demeanor. something about the way he kissed your neck, the way his fingers curled within you, the way his mouth worked skillfully to work inside your tight walls, he was gentle all the way and it started to play on your heartstrings.

the first couple of hookups were solely about you. no matter how much you whined and cried for it, miguel wouldn’t have himself inside of you until he had worked you up to it, because although this was supposed to be just sloppy hookups when the both of you felt like it, he still cared about you, so he didn’t want to just rip you in half quite yet.

“gotta train you for it.” he’d tell you as his tongue lapped at your puffy clit, the same one he’d been toying with for literal hours. and every time you’d think about stopping…he’d grab a tight hold on your thighs, dragging you closer to him.

he knew he couldn’t keep doing this with you when you were completely nude on top of him, pretty cunt swallowing his length in its entirety as his hands took home on your hips. he cocked his head to the side, “okay, you’re g’na—“

you don’t even know what he was going to tell you, but your hands find his shoulders as you lift yourself off of his cock before slamming back down, repeating the motion at a slow, passionate pace, and miguel looked at you through half-lidded eyes, mouth unable to form words at how good you felt around him.

although he wanted so much more. he sunk his claws in the flesh of your hips, making you gasp at the mix of pain and pleasure. he feeds off of your reaction, cock prodding at your deepest spots as he held you steady with one hand, other hand coming to rub your sensitive clit, pussy clenching around miguel’s thick cock tightly as pesky tears soared down your cheeks.

“t-too much.” you whimper out, but his movements don’t cease, hips rutting into your cunt as he whispers, “you take it, slut.”

the degrading nickname makes your mind go blank as you fall into miguel’s chest, arms around his neck as you whispered into his ear, broken sobs accenting your words, “mig- miguel…’m g’na..”

“cum? no, not yet… shit- sweetheart, you’re gonna cum when i say to.”

you whine at that, a thick coil of pleasure bubbling in your lower abdomen as you relish in the feeling of fullness that miguel gives you, eyes fluttering closed as you feel nothing but heat all over you, skin burning with need.

miguel picks up on this and he kisses your check as he fucks into you, “h-hold it…”

it takes you a minute to realize what he wants, but it’s for you to cum with him, and you comply to his request as his thrusts become sloppier, dick twitching inside of you as you let go, his fingers rubbing your clit messily as your juices coat his chest, his own cum shooting inside of you, painting your walls a milky white.

you started to lay limp on top of him but his hands find your waist, tossing you over onto the other side of the bed. you perk up, and look at him with an inquisitive expression, “miguel?”

“sorry, just…” he whispered, “i don’t want to do this anymore.”

you frowned. “w-why? did i do something? i mean, whatever it is i can probably—“

“no.” he cut you off, eyes still boring into the wall, trying his best not to look at you. he looks down at his hands and then sighs, “i think i’m falling in love with you.”

it’s such a shock to you. you watch as he moves over to you, picking you up swiftly as you both sit back on his bed. he pulls you on top of him, chest to chest, forehead to forehead. “i’m sorry— for…um…throwing you off of me. it isn’t you, promise. i just….i don’t like…this feeling.”

“what, you don’t like the idea of having sex with your girlfriend instead of your co-worker who brings you coffee in the morning?” you giggle, and he laughs with you, a small, content laugh.

“no, no…i’m okay with that.”

[seresinhangmanjake]

Rather Be With You

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake has been away for six months and he just hopes you waited for him.

Warnings: cursing. I think that's it.

Notes: this was inspired by an ask (💐) from a bit ago. Sorry it took so long. So much happened in the last week and a half, some good some bad, and it just got on top of me. Writing had to come second. I have probably written better in my life haha, but I tried.

Words: 1972

---

“You know he's only messing with you, right?”

He wasn’t sure how long he’d sat there, hunched forward with his elbows on his knees as he wrung his hands together. Surely it had been a while. For the entirety of the morning, perhaps? Rooster had made his teasing comments at seven a.m. sharp and they were due to dock at noon. Had it been that long? Or had he really managed to shove many hours worth of painful thoughts into just a few short minutes? Somehow, he figured, it was one or the other. No in-between.

When his eyes flicked up, Nat’s face seemed to hint at the former. 

It made sense, he supposed. Spending hours thinking about you wasn’t exactly uncommon. Usually, though, those thoughts were a bit nicer, with you naked and smiling, laughing, or whispering sweet words to him. He liked those better than the ones that had plagued him for…well, however long he’d been sitting there.

“He knows what he said isn’t true,” she continued. “He wouldn’t have had the balls to make jokes like that if he thought they would hold any weight. Trust me, no one particularly enjoys pissing you off.”

He wasn’t pissed off, though. He was devastated at the seeds of doubt planted in his head; at the pain and insecurity that came with the twisted knife to his gut. He hated the images forced into his mind at his friend’s words; the ones of you with other men; the ones that made it terribly clear how little you considered or missed him in his absence. 

“Jake, she waited for you. I know she did.”

“Yea? How?” he asked. 

Phoenix opened her mouth quickly, just as he would have had someone asked him a few hours ago if you loved him like he loved you—ready to confirm with a smile on his face. But if made to think of the answer for more than a half-second, without the hope and giddiness fueling his enthusiasm, he realized he couldn’t actually say for sure if you loved him, just as Nat now could not say with certainty that you had waited for him. 

Her mouth closed. 

"Exactly. You don't know," he said. "It’s not like I was smart enough to ask her to be my girlfriend before we left. She has no obligation to me, so why would she have bothered to wait six months to have me when she could have anyone?"

The brunette shook her head. “I don’t believe she's like that."

Leaning back against the bench and crossing his arms, Jake just barely held himself back from a scoff. "Like what, Nat? That wouldn't make her anything other than a woman who found someone new to sleep with after the guy she was sleeping with disappeared for half a year.”

“But you didn’t—”

“I know I didn't disappear. But I’ve been gone longer than we’d been together," he said, his voice drifting as he imagined what he hadn't stopped to consider before; a nightmare that, if proven true, would cleanly snap his heart in half. "Joke or not, Rooster could very well be right.”

—

"You're overthinking,” Penny’s voice snuck in from your left. 

She reached out to take the beer glass from your hand, polished almost too clean after the twenty minutes you spent absentmindedly running a rag over it. Your mind had been too occupied with troubled thoughts to notice your unceasing drag of the dishtowel around the cylindrical shape of the glass. 

It came free from your hand with ease, and as Penny placed it back on its shelf, you spewed, "What if he hooked up with someone? What if he decided six months was too long to wait for a woman that isn't his girlfriend?” You finally faced her just to find her rolling her eyes. “He likes sex, Penny. A lot. There are plenty of willing women and he's practically insatiable."

"When it comes to you, maybe."

The tenseness in your shoulders from well-formed stress was heavy with your exhale, forcing your shoulders to fall forward and your posture to take a hit. "Penny…" you groaned.

"I'm telling you, there's no way he messed around with anyone,” she swore, leaning back against the bar. "Besides, it's frowned upon to get involved with your coworkers."

"You think that's ever stopped Jake?"

She pursed her lips and tilted her head from side to side as she considered. "Ok, fair enough,” she agreed. “Once upon a time, that definitely wouldn't have stopped him. But after meeting you, he hasn't looked at another woman."

You couldn’t say that provided you with any relief. Jake had always presented as an ‘out of sight, out of mind’ type of man. He wasn’t a worrier. Once something exited his periphery, it promptly left his brain, discarded with all past challenges or predicaments. And wasn’t that what you were? An obstacle? He hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend for a reason. Holding on to you for more than just the night didn’t necessarily make you more special than any of the other women. Perhaps it simply made you convenient.  

"You don’t know, Penny. You’re not with him 24/7."

Penny muttered something under her breath. Her fingers rose to rub at her temple and when they dropped back to her side, the stare she shot you was imbued with determination. "Look, my bar is where Seresin used to do his "best work," as he liked to say,” she said, and you made a face. "But the only work he's been putting in since he met you has involved getting you to like him and making you happy after you two started your little…thing." 

"You may not pay attention, but I do," she practically scolded. "Now, a month ago you were excited to meet him when he got back, and then you let your thoughts get away from you and it’s fucking everything up." 

To your own shame, you couldn't deny that. So you didn't bother, rather opting to nibble on your thumbnail.

"They'll be back soon, so are you coming with me or not?"

—

He didn’t know what he was doing, standing there with his bag over his shoulder. But he felt like a heavy weight, an anchor in a sea of levity. Looking around, the men and women he’d been packed in with for the last six months were thrilled, the room sprinkled with smiles and laughs of giddiness in anticipation of having their families in their arms again. 

He didn’t have that. 

He wanted to have it, but that was fully reliant on you. Your feelings. Your wants and desires. Your plan for your future. Jake could imagine a world where he had the strength to beg to be a part of your life—to plead as desperately as if fighting for enough air to fill his lungs—but reality made that entirely out of his will and control. So he didn't shove his way forward when they made it home. He couldn't bring himself to jump in front of the others who had people waiting for them upon their return. Instead, he let them file out, his team included, until he was one of the final few to step back on dry, solid land. 

As he walked by couple after couple, family after family, his already weak composure began to crumble at its edges. The people milling around him felt like a mocking montage of the life he didn’t have. Men and women kissing their partners or spouses, hugging their children with no intent of letting go, their tears coating the ground with joy. 

Jake's chest constricted. He needed to get himself on the other side of it, but weaving through the mass of bodies proved harder than he expected. 

His shoulders bumped into theirs, his chest skimming across backs and limbs when he turned to his side to sneak through narrow openings. Little kids ran into his legs like spinning tops on the loose from their wound-up energy finally releasing, though each one quickly recovered and returned to their parents, maintaining the same level of enthusiasm they had prior to smacking face-first into a muscled calf. 

With each unintentional nudge, he apologized, but no one so much as noticed, too engrossed in their relief at making it home unscathed or in seeing their loved ones still intact. Somewhere, his teammates were doing the same. They’d found their partners, and he thought he’d found his, but his overconfidence in your feelings kept him from ensuring you were actually together. And maybe it was too late. Maybe he would have no choice but to watch you move on from him.  

Finally breaking through the edge of the crowd, Jake took his first deep breath. He didn’t look back as he made his way to his truck. He didn’t turn when rushed footsteps grew closer until they sounded as if right on his tail. 

“Jake.”

He paused and sighed. He should’ve known he would imagine your voice. Six months without that lovely sound, his only chance at hearing it being within his dreams, took its toll. It haunted him like a ghost on that ship. Of course it wouldn’t cease just because he was home.

“I was calling you, but you didn’t hear me.” There was a soft chuckle, then, “Well, at least I hope you didn’t hear me.”

He spun on his heel and was greeted with your smile. It lacked its carefree nature, instead just barely failing to conceal a twinge of nerves, but beautiful nonetheless. He couldn’t help but smile back. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked, taking a few steps closer. 

“I came with Penny.” The roundness of your cheeks turned pink from your blush. You lightly shrugged. “I missed you.”

With those words, Jake knew Rooster was deserving of a swift smack upside the head, one he very well may deliver. You cared. You missed him, even. 

Fucking Rooster.

“Oh, I, um,” you continued, your eyes falling down to your hand. “I got you these. It feels silly now, but at the time I thought they would be nice, I guess.”

He followed your line of sight to the small bundle in your hand. Five long stems were tight in your grip, the bulbs on their ends made up of layers of silky red petals. 

"I was thinking," you swallowed hard and met his gaze, "I don't actually know if you like flowers. And if you do, I didn't know your favorite. I just picked mine." The sweet grin that returned to your face practically demanded he kiss you. Your lips, your cheeks, your forehead, your nose. All of you. Every little bit. 

And you weren't wrong. He hadn't had a favorite. 

He did now. 

Jake swallowed through the tightness in his throat, fighting back the stinging in the corners of his eyes. 

He didn't get gifts, and certainly not from the women he was with. But then again, with the exception of you, he hadn't chosen to be with a woman for more than a night or two in the last decade. 

"I like the yellow ones but they symbolize friendship and that wasn't really what I was going for, so I—"

"I love you.”

Your smile, your jaw, your hand, fell. "You…what?"

He let out a chuckle and reached for you. "Come here."

You didn't hesitate sliding your hand into his and he quickly pulled you to him, your chests hitting, lips meeting with an intensity that he hoped expressed even just a lick of how much he missed you. You draped your arms around his shoulders and the petals of the flowers tickled the nape of his neck. 

"Six months was too long," you whispered when you separated. 

He nudged his nose against yours. "Way too long."

---

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @cinderellasmissingshoe @leila22rogers

[darkfluffydragon]

Operation Abundance: About Golden Cheese Cookie

Note: Golden Cheese will be referred to as Aureate, as that is her AU name.

Why would Aureate allow Shadow Milk into her body? She can very well force him out of it, the Light of Abundance is not compatible whatsoever with the weakened Light of Deceit. Yet, he still controls her, using her as a host. Her story isn't all that different either, there is no grand tragedy that leaves her kingdom in an unfixable shamble. Sure, there were more glitches and errors in canon. and a bit more horror, but the conclusion was still the idea of her becoming more greedy, to become more powerful. Enough that she would be able to bring not just their souls, but their dough as well. To bring back her Golden Kingdom in its entirety.

One important detail that did change though was that she didn't follow Gingerbrave and the others, Instead, she told them that she would go to the Vanilla Kingdom later (never getting the closure of seeing her friends again after assuming Pure Vanilla died, and waking up as the only one to try and dig his body out of the Vanilla Kingdom rubble after Dark Enchantress’ bannishment), instead wishing to spend some time with the Cheesebirds she had originally forgotten and neglected for so long. To bathe in the sunlight of her real kingdom.

Then Shadow Milk came and dragged her into the false paradise of her dreams. She would fight, knowing none of the people there had souls, not like her kingdom. That they were not real, not what she desired. Not even when the other ancients were there, not when the dream was far grander, far more perfect than her own reality.

The real reason why she eventually relented, was when Shadow Milk, Charcoal Cheese, would reveal information about the other beasts. Specifically about Burning Spice.

The Souljam of Change. The other half of her Light of Abundance.

...

Surely, it was rightfully hers, was it not? If it had been stripped away from the injured Beast by the witches, then surely, the other half was justifiably, meant to be under her ownership? They had, after all, deemed her worthy of Abundance. Was this not the world giving her a sign? An opportunity, like so many centuries ago when she first found her Souljam? She would take the power, she would become more than simply Abundance, she would become Change. She would return all that had been taken from her, back into the golden sunlight so that her treasure, her temples, her streets, her cookies, they may all bathe in her radiant glory once more.

Having her closest friends there really only made the offer even more enticing...so she took it. She would bide her time, she would wait. And when the moment came, she would make her soul whole.

After all, Aureate had always been a greedy, selfish cookie.

To explain what I meant by her never getting closure, Aureate never got to see Pure Vanilla alive. Sure, she got the message from Gingerbrave, but she never saw him and the others with her own eyes. The last she saw of him was at the hall with Dark Enchantress, and the explosion. Before she would wake up in the ruins, alone. She’d have panicked, thinking that the others had died when in reality, they got separated and woke up at different times. She was the last one, and would start digging through the remains of the vanilla castle trying to find her friends. For hours, perhaps the entire day despite her wounds. She would come across a message left behind by Hollyberry, telling anyone who found it that she was returning to her kingdom. Then a message from Dark Cacao. She would find traces of White Lily’s magic, and she would find Pure Vanilla’s flower staff. The one he never left behind, unless with one of them because he trusted them dearly. That could only mean one thing

‘How could they leave so readily? How could they not even leave a memorial for our Treasure?

How could they leave me?’

They didn’t leave her and Pure Vanilla, they searched as well. They repeated the same cycle she did and had assumed that she, too, perished in that battle. Each grieved and mourned in their own way. They were simply not fortunate…unfortunate? Enough to find the staff.

She would leave the staff behind, a memorial, where the flower would always be able to see the sunrise. And then, she would leave, to find her fallen empire. She never got to properly see Pure Vanilla be alive, nor did she get to have a talk with the others to sort out their misunderstandings. Yet still, in her false dreams, they are what she desired the most.

The staff would also be how Pure Vanilla knew she was alive. Unlike Hollyberry and Dark Cacao, who were still known, had traces of their existence, Golden Cheese vanished. But it hadn’t been Hollyberry or Dark Cacao who placed his staff in such a place in such a fond way. There was only one other person he knew who would do such a thing.

[drdemonprince]

It’s 9:30 am on a Monday, my regularly-scheduled time for a workout. Like always, I pad across the floor of the living room, roll out the yoga mat, arrange the dumbbells, and flip open my laptop to find a follow-along strength training video on YouTube.  The algorithm knows my patterns and proclivities. Populating the first row of content is a perfect encapsulation of my weekday psyche: a thirty-minute shoulders and abs video, a fresh episode of The Bald and the Beautiful to listen to while I complete it, and for relaxing afterward, a 60-minute livestream in which a sweet-faced middle-aged mother named Sammie is repeatedly dropped into a hypnotic trance and made to repeat mantras of obedience and servitude by her loving hypnotist and boyfriend.  I love all the sides of hypnotized Sammie: when she is made to be a giggling maid, and when she dons fuzzy ears and mewls like a cat; when she devotedly calls her hypnotist Master and erases her memories for him, and when she freezes, smilingly, into a happy doll begging to be played with. I’ve watched all of her hours-long livestreams in their entirety, some of them multiple times, her vacant, entranced stares and stiff, robotic movements sending my own body roaring into a satisfied climax, sometimes without even touching myself.  But I am not attracted to Sammie at all. In fact, I’m not at all attracted to women. To the extent that my sexuality involves making contact with other people, I’m a gay man, exclusively interested in other queer men. But to even bother with that distinction confuses things a bit, because ultimately my sexual orientation does not hinge upon people’s identities or bodies. Though I can admire the beauty of all kinds of people, and even feel a handsome man igniting my curiosity at times, ultimately I’m just not really “into” human beings at all. What I’m into is hypnosis. Or mind control, brainwashing, and conditioning, if you like. Hypnosis is the bedrock that holds my psychosexual landscape together; without it any potential engagement in sex slips, and falls apart into nothing. Hypnosis is the anchor that keeps my insatiable libido grounded; without it, any possibility of having satisfying sex floats away, and my mind dissociates from the event as it’s happening.   I’m a deeply sexual person, and I always have been. I discovered masturbation early, at around four or five, and took part in it actively, getting caught a few times as a kid before I learned to sequester into my bedroom for it early in the morning and late at night. Beginning in my teen years, I got into the habit of pleasuring myself for between an hour and a half to two hours per day, and that rate has continued throughout much of my adult life.  And yet, I am also asexual — because as much as my body craves sexual release, and as often as I pursue sex, my drive has no relationship to how other people look, or anything else about them, and my release doesn’t need to involve any specific sexual activities at all.  Hypnosis is sex to me. Even in its most stagey and sterile forms, I find it inescapably erotic — and that leaves sex itself as just some boring party trick. You can touch me, or you can perform a series of backflips in front of me on the floor; either way I’ll tell you that you’ve done a very impressive job and all but it will not make me cum. 

You can read (or listen to!) the full essay for free at drdevonprice.substack.com

[wizardrousactivity]

They Promise. Part I

Next>>>>

Synopsis: After the break up with your two partners, you find out you're pregnant. Causing you to fall into a depression and bankruptcy, a month after you give birth they show up at your door. Pleading for you. CW: Pregnancy, depression, break-ups, reader is fairly young. (early twenties) so [age gap] hurt/comfort It’s been about 10 months since König and Simon had left you, knocked up and depressed. You were breastfeeding your month old while sitting in your kitchen, eating up the last of some spaghetti you made. - everything felt empty, sultry and lazy. Spending most of your time weeping in your room until the baby screamed, rushing over to soothe it whenever you could. You needed to care for this baby, he’s all that you have. Your fingers trace over his small hands, rubbing them softly, it gave you comfort that you had another breathing - living human besides yourself in this house. Kissing his forehead you gently lowered him into the crib, looming over the wooden bed before making your way back to the kitchen. Till you hear a knock at your door, stopping you in your tracks. Staying cautious at who could be there at such an hour, you turn on your heel and peek through the blinds. A man the size of a grizzly bear and another man roughly his height. You can’t recognize the both of them till you see the familiar sniper hood and skull mask. Anger boils in you, a slight pang of guilt whirling in your stomach when you think of them seeing the baby. - Wrapping your hands around the handle, a lump growing in your throat once you open it to meet their eyes. Both of them are almost at their knees when you appear at the door, still the same. So perfect, so pretty for them. But they can’t forget they left you, sad and depressed for the entirety of 10 months.

 - Then suddenly you’re back to the first 5 months, trying to stay content with your situation so as to not stress out. You cried almost every day, rubbing your belly and thinking of what was growing in there. The shock was too much for you, causing you to nap through the day just to escape everything. It took a while to realize that it wasn’t the answer to anything, you accepted the baby. But you couldn’t accept the break-up yet. The sound of Ghost’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts, a deep gruff voice almost full of guilt. “We need to talk.” “What the fuck is there to talk about?” You retort, you were surprised they even came back. Leaving you deserted so coldly, with a baby they didn’t even know about. Tears build up in your eyes, dripping down your face immediately.   "Liebling- please.." König  interrupts, his hand reaching out to rest on your shoulder till you swat it away. Voice weak and dry. "Don't fuckin' touch me!" His heart pangs with guilt, he needed you. They needed you. The months they spent without you were cruel, half of the girls they met only being hookups to fuck and leave. Crack whores showing up at their shared flat almost every week. Everything goes chaotic until the baby begins to shrill, crying out for his mama upon hearing the noise. Cursing under your breath in panic - rushing upstairs to soothe him once again. König  and Ghost follow you upstairs, stopping in their tracks to stare at the tiny child you are holding in your arms. Patting it's back to calm it down. "Y\n?" König  begins to speak, dumbfounded by the baby. "Where did he come from?" You scowl, look at him with utter disgust. "Its my baby. You guys left me when I got pregnant." Memories begin to flood with your first 3 months, throwing up every morning, nobody was there for you. The food was the hardest part, you barely had any money to spare during that time. You still don't. Guilt boils in their stomachs, watching you care for it with such gentleness. Gentleness they'll never experience again, only touch starved and lonely again.

"Can I hold m'?" Ghost asks, making his voice more gentler around the premise of this now sleeping baby - holding his hands out. Swallowing, you hand him the baby. "What's his name?" He says as he gently engulfs the baby, holding it with ease and security.

"____, that's his name." You dryly respond, licking your lips and putting your hands together. He notices your nervous gesture and hands it back to you. Sighing heavily Ghost puts his hands on your shoulders, rubbing circles in them softly with his thumb. The action making warmth grow in your stomach. Finally speaking amongst the silence, your voice comes out deprived and quiet. "You guys know I can't forgive you after..." Your voice comes to a stop, tears beginning to trickle down again.

"We'll prove it to you then, give us some time baby. We promise." König  makes a grunt at that, putting his hand on your jaw and making you look at him. "Sounds good, nicht?"

[haikyuulovercompany]

Permanent Words ~ Akaashi Keiji x Reader

In this world, it's easy to know who is your soulmate, but how you find it, it's a complete surprise. One day you'll speak to someone and the very first words they direct at you will appear on your right wrist. Well... meeting your own soulmate was not only in a very premature moment in your life, but it came with a very awkward price. 'Poor Akaashi Keiji' is a thought you would spend your entire life repeating in your head.

Genre: Fluff. Soulmate!AU High School.

Warnings: None.

Words: 2.1K

Notes: No link to the 'original post' here because I took the premise of the original one and literally changed everything about it.

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You were having one of those days where it seemed the universe was on a personal mission to make things worse and worse for you. You had been the chosen joke of whatever superior force ruled the world.

You had stayed up very late into the night since it was a Friday. You had zero plans scheduled for the rest of the weekend and you had found a new television series that had ended two years ago and its six seasons were all available. You would have the entirety of your Saturday for yourself anyway. Or well… you had thought.

What had happened instead was your best friend calling you continuously at nine in the morning, to the point the sole buzzing of the phone successfully woke you up. You were quick to point out the day and the hour, cursing her for running your plans of waking up until after noon and staying in your pajamas for half the day. However, she didn’t apologize.

“Did you seriously forget about the Fukurodani Open Day?” your friend questioned, almost offended.

“That is till next week,” you reminded her, dropping your head back on your pillow hoping you could end the call and try to sleep a couple more hours.

“Uhh, no. It’s today.”

“What? It was till the sixteenth,” you insisted.

“Today is the sixteenth.”

You had blinked twice and removed the phone from your ear to look at the date and time. It turned out your friend was completely right. You gasped and jumped out of bed, showering your friend with apologies. The plan you had made was to get breakfast together and then head to Fukurodani together. Your friend had a crush with a guy from the basketball team. She had seen him a couple months back during a tournament game. She had been there to support his younger cousin and left the place furiously investigating everything about the school and team. As she had landed her eyes on the Open Day event, she had made you promise you would go there with her. And still, you had completely forgotten.

The plan was to go there, find the guy and have your friend talk to him and try to find out if the ‘hello there’ she planned on saying appeared on his right wrist. Neither of you had an indication if he could be ‘the one’, but your friend was so infatuated, she had sworn it was an important lead.

You took a quick shower and rushed to your closet with your hair wrapped in a towel. You didn’t have time to meticulously choose your outfit for the day, so you went for a safe option. Comfortable denim shorts and a flowy t-shirt tucked inside together with your favorite pair of sneakers. You didn’t have time to even put a bit more effort in your appearance, so you relied on your sunscreen and mascara. You always had a lip balm with you and that would have to do. You left your house and rushed through the streets. At that point, you didn’t have time to wait for the bus. You only had your legs and your will to make it up to your friend. But it seemed you couldn’t trust your body either because the tip of your sneaker got stuck on the edge of the sidewalk as you finished crossing the street and fell forward. Thankfully, your left leg managed to keep you steady but your right leg wasn’t so lucky, and so, your right knee met with the harsh concrete and got scraped. You hissed in pain as two older guys tried to check on you. You lifted a hand at them, silently letting them know you were okay. Truth was… you hated being late. You hated being in a hurry. Nothing went well when one was in a hurry and that day was proving it. Your wet hair had managed to wet the back of your t-shirt and you had forgotten your sweater, so now you were kind of cold and with nothing to help. Also, your sneaker had a dirt mark on the front and your knee hurt and was bleeding.

You couldn’t run anymore, but you could hop very fast… and you did that for the next five minutes as the initial recoil on your knee went away and you could properly step on your foot. You still couldn’t pick up the pace, but striding was possible and you kept the rhythm. Instead of meeting your friend at the little diner where you were supposed to have breakfast together, you met her at the entrance of Fukurodani. She had sustained a stony expression on you, trying to emphasize she was still not over you forgetting your plans together, but as soon as her eyes drifted down to your knee, she gasped.

“What happened?”

“My feet betrayed me,” you sighed. “It doesn’t hurt that much anymore.”

“We need to clean it, though. It looks bad.” Your friend suddenly stretched her hand to you, handing you a small paper bag. “Also, got you an egg sandwich.”

You simply raised your arms and dropped them around her in a thankful hug. You could really sit down, go silent for five minutes, and have some food. Tired of waiting, your friend grabbed your arm and you two went inside. You allowed your friend to scan the board where all the activities were written down so you two could finally try to make the fateful encounter happen. Your stomach grumbled, then. The smell of the egg sandwich was alluring and you decided to not wait anymore. While your friend searched for the basketball demonstration, you could start munching down on some breakfast. But life was not done with you yet. As you opened the paper bag, a sturdy body crashed lightly against yours, but with your knee in a weak state, it was all it took for you to lose your balance. With two clumsy steps forward, the paper bag slipped your hands and crashed on the floor. You watched as a stranger who had been mindlessly walking through the hallway kicked it.

That was it. You couldn’t take it anymore. Throwing any patience or manners out the window, you turned to see the guy who had crashed onto you. He was tall with short, messy black hair. He looked worried and was about to speak, but you didn’t let him.

“My egg sandwich, dude,” you snarled, and stomping your feet you went to get your food. You picked up the paper bag and looked inside, afraid of finding it in a complete mess. However, the sandwich had been perfectly wrapped up in aluminum paper. Maybe it would be a little mangled, but everything would be in place and ready for you to eat.

You stood up and found the same guy still staring at you with both eyes wide opened, his right hand lifted. You frowned at him, unfairly taking your anger in what was an obvious accident. As you stepped closer, meditating about apologizing for your attitude or not, you finally saw it. On his wrist, the words ‘my egg sandwich, dude’ were marked like a tattoo.

Your brain registered what that meant in a heartbeat. All the air in you slipped through your lips. The guy in front of you... the one with the same startled expression as yours was your soulmate… and you had forever marked his wrist with the stupidest phrase you had ever uttered in your entire life till that point.

Your soulmate. Right there. In front of you.

In a hurricane of uncomfortable emotions, you covered your face with both hands as a strong, overwhelming wave of heat struck your neck and it painfully crawled up to your ears and cheeks. Your whole face was beyond warm with embarrassment. You heard the steps of someone approaching you and you just knew it wasn’t your friend by the sensation of a tall presence looming over you. Your friend wasn't that tall. By then your friend had most probably taken notice of what was unfolding.

“Pleasure to meet you,” he said, using what you could only describe as the gentlest voice you had heard. And he also smelled nice. It was a mix between mint and soap. Clean and soft.

You couldn’t cover your eyes till he got tired and left. You assume he wouldn’t. Well, if he did, it would be disappointing. Your soulmate couldn’t give up on you… and neither could you. It would be equally horrifying if you decided to ignore him to the point he decided to leave you alone. One couldn’t choose how they were going to meet their soulmate, and yours happened to be a tad unfortunate. Nothing to do about it anymore.

You slowly moved your hands away from your face and lifted your eyes as you felt a tingling on your own right wrist. You finally got a good look at him—he had thin features and was fondly smiling at you. Why wasn’t he annoyed even in the slightest? He would live with a horrible sentence on his skin forever.

You turned your eyes to your wrist, seeing the words ‘Pleasure to meet you’ on it. It was so nice and so polite. It was obvious he had picked his words carefully once realizing the situation, making sure the words meant to be on your skin forever were something good.

He had been cautions enough to say the perfect thing. 

“Uhm, I’m going to go ahead,” your friend said, a cheeky edge on her words. “Don’t leave without me, okay?”

“No, of course not!” you hurriedly assured her. “I’ll text you.”

She gave you a thumbs up and did as she said, leaving you alone with your soulmate—a soulmate you still didn’t know their name.

“Your knee is bleeding,” he said before you could ask for his name. “Let’s get that fixed. Follow me.”

You nodded, holding your stupid egg sandwich against your chest. Your hunger had dimmed but that paper bag was the only thing helping you find stability for the time being. Your legs wobbled with every step you took. You had never been one to feel confident about love—you had even stopped thinking when or how you would find your soulmate, afraid it would take your entire life to do so—and now everything was happening in the snap of a finger, in the quickness of a breath.

He signaled you to wait for him as he approached a table with two older ladies. He pointed at you and continued talking. You were right. He was incredibly polite. His stance didn’t shy away, but just by the way he stood and the tone he used, he was respectful. That was nice. Your mother would like him a lot. Your cheeks burned again at your thoughts. That had to be the next, right? You had to start dating. Or well, maybe you could know each other first. Was it possible to not like your soulmate? You had never thought about it. You felt the urge to take out your phone and quickly search for all those answers but by then, he was already coming back at you with a first-aid kit hanging from one of his hands.

“You can sit there,” he said, pointing at the benches lined up against the walls. Again, you could only nod and obey.

You thought you would sit down and he would maybe sit beside you and hand you what you needed for your knee. Instead, he placed the first-aid kit next to you and he knelt. You panicked, quickly muttering ‘no’ over and over again, motioning with your hands for him to stand up. He completely ignored you and got a gauze and rubbing alcohol, and proceeded to clean your scrape. You slightly hissed at the first touch and he apologized, which you found endearing. The wound was no way his fault and he was being beyond nice for getting on the ground and taking care of it. You could already see yourself gloating to others about the gentleman the universe had chosen for you.

In no time there was no more blood on your skin and you could see the scrape wasn’t as bad as the bleeding had made it seem. It would form a scab for sure, but nothing more.

“Thank you so much…” you said, lingering there for a minute. “I still don’t know your name.”

He smiled as he put the bottle of rubbing alcohol back into the box. “Akaashi Keiji. What’s yours?”

You told him yours and repeated his name a couple times in your head. Your eyes went back to his right wrist and a chuckle escaped you, still in disbelief. “I will have these nice words on me, but, I… I just ruined your wrist forever.”

He took a look himself at his own skin and brushed a thumb over it, pale skin stretching but the words not going anywhere. He smiled again. Or had the smile ever left his face? You couldn't tell.

“No, it will be a funny story to tell,” he calmly stated. You smiled back at him, allowing yourself for the first time to relax around him. 

Needless to say, that egg sandwich was left untouched and forgotten to the side.  

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ♡ Thanks for reading! ♡

[perfectsunlight]

(𝟔𝟒) - 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝖾𝗌 (?)

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬: 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮

sakura always wondered why she could never do anything to comfort you. 

the first time she met you, she picked up on the way your smile never seemed to reach your eyes. she had always been the observant type, even though her former group loved to paint her as the “oblivious japanese girl.”

but sakura saw through those stereotypes, and she genuinely cared about people's well-being. as she spent more time with you, she noticed the subtle signs that something weighed heavily on your heart. 

it pained her to see you burdened by invisible sorrows.

she tried different approaches to bring you comfort, from kind words to small gestures of affection. sakura would offer a listening ear whenever you spoke, hoping that you’d share your feelings and lighten your load. but deep down, she felt frustrated, wondering why her efforts seemed to fall short.

perhaps it was because she couldn't see the entirety of your pain, the intricate tapestry of emotions that you kept hidden. were you sad because you couldn’t debut under sm? did you miss your old group? or perhaps you were lonely here without friends?

regardless of your reasons for your subtle signs of sadness, sakura yearned to understand you on a deeper level, to unravel the intricacies of your heart. she believed that only then could she offer the comfort you needed.

however she soon realized that you were not lonely. you were simply just heartbroken.

you were carrying the weight of a past relationship that left deep scars on your soul. the older girl realized that your pain stemmed from a love lost, and it wasn't something she could heal with a simple act of comfort.

she knew that heartbreak took time to heal, and it required patience, understanding, and a safe space for you to process your emotions. perhaps that’s why she just let you grieve, giving you the space to let your grief run its course.

sakura knew you weren’t getting any better. you were barely eating, the circles under your eyes telling you were hardly sleeping as well. everything about you was screaming for help, but sakura didn’t know what else to do.

she wasn’t the only one who was feeling the same way either. chaewon was feeling just as worried and concerned.

chaewon always heard your sniffles at the twilight hours and the break of dawn. still to this day she wonders why she never could bring herself to get up and comfort you.

maybe it was because she didn’t know how.

despite being the leader, she was inept in providing emotional support.  

she carried the weight of her own insecurities, feeling inadequate and unsure of how to offer you the solace you desperately needed. it wasn't a reflection of her lack of care or concern, but rather a result of her own limitations and self-doubt.

chaewon often found herself at a loss for words when faced with your pain. she questioned her ability to provide the right kind of support and feared saying the wrong thing, inadvertently causing more harm than good. it weighed heavily on her heart, knowing that you were suffering, but feeling helpless in her own inability to alleviate your pain.

deep down, she cared deeply for you. but chaewon wished she could magically possess the wisdom and comforting presence that would bring you solace. 

she wished she could be even half of the leader eunbi was.

maybe that’s why she and sakura let yunjin do her thing with you? of course, they both did not approve of you and a fellow member sleeping together. it would make things complicated, and there was a huge risk that it would make dynamics weird.

but all that was thrown out the window when they realized that it was working.

chaewon wrestled with conflicting emotions as she witnessed the unexpected but effective approach yunjin took in bringing solace to your life. while she couldn't ignore the potential complications and risks that came with your involvement with a fellow member, she couldn't deny the positive impact it had on your well-being.

she understood that healing and finding comfort often required thinking outside the box and challenging the norms. chaewon and sakura both observed the positive changes in you, the light returning to your eyes, and it gave them a sense of relief. 

they knew that yunjin's presence in your life, while unconventional, provided the comfort and support you needed during this difficult time. you needed jimin, but if yunjin could be a temporary solution, then so be it.

it wasn't about following a set of rules but rather finding what truly worked for you, even if it defied expectations. your well-being and healing were paramount, and if this unorthodox approach brought you solace and happiness, chaewon couldn't help but be grateful for the positive impact it had on your life.

in their support for yunjin's role in your life, chaewon and sakura also embraced the importance of open-mindedness and acceptance. they recognized that relationships could be complex, and they prioritized your happiness and emotional well-being above all else.

you were happy. that’s all that mattered to them.

when you walked inside the dorm, you weren’t expecting to be met with the glaring eyes of chaewon. your leader’s anger issues were a well known feature, but you didn’t know if knowing how upset she was brought you any comfort.

behind her on the couch, sakura sat with her arms folded. the eldest member looked stoic, but you could tell from the twitch in her eyebrow and the emotion in her eyes that she was definitely just as upset as chaewon.

“sit.” 

you never wanted to disappoint sakura or chaewon. they were everything to you when everything meant nothing.

you gave a small nod and slowly moved to sit down on the floor in front of the couch, facing them. silence loomed and the tension was palpable, but you knew this was the consequences of your own actions.

“where were you?”

chaewon's voice was sharp as she demanded an explanation. sakura remained silent, her gaze fixed on you, awaiting your response. the weight of their disappointment pressed down on you, making it difficult to find the right words to explain your absence.

"i'm sorry," you stammered, feeling the heaviness of regret. "i got caught up in something important.”

chaewon's glare intensified, her frustration evident. "important? more important than our rehearsals and commitments? we depend on each other, and your absence affects us all."

sakura's expression softened slightly, but her voice still carried disappointment. "we're a team, and when one member is absent without communication, it jeopardizes us as a whole."

guilt washed over you, knowing that you had let them down. you hated disappointing your unnies. it was something you’d always done your best to avoid.

“i was with jimin.”

your voice was soft, and your head hung slightly. as you mentioned jimin's name, a mix of surprise and curiosity flashed across chaewon and sakura's faces. 

the japanese girl’s thoughtful gaze shifted to you, and you could feel her assessing your demeanor, searching for any hidden emotions or lingering concerns. it was as if she could see through you.

sakura had a way of understanding without needing many words, her intuition guiding her towards a deeper comprehension of the situation at hand. she had seen your remorse and sincerity, but now she was looking for signs of growth and learning.

finally, she spoke up, her voice calm and measured. 

“does yunjin know?”

a small sigh escaped your lips as you thought about the american. you two were not on good terms, and you knew that a conversation with her was needed as well. but for now, you needed to get through this one.

“no.”

sakura's brows furrowed slightly as she processed your response. she exchanged a glance with chaewon, and it was clear they were contemplating the best course of action.

chaewon spoke up, her tone stern yet tinged with concern. "yunjin needs to know. we can't keep this hidden within the group."

your lack of an answer made the room silent. it was obvious that you felt very uncomfortable about this.

the older girl spoke after your silence. she shifted and leaned forward to look at you closer. “you’re back with jimin, aren’t you?”

you hesitated, feeling a mix of vulnerability and apprehension. it was clear that sakura and chaewon had picked up on something, and the truth was difficult to conceal any longer.

with a heavy sigh, you nodded, unable to meet their gaze. the admission hung in the air, the weight of it causing your heart to race. you knew the potential consequences of your decision, the risks it posed to the dynamics within the group. even the oldest members knew that yunjin would not be happy with the news.

sakura's voice was gentle, tinged with concern. "are you sure about this, y/n?” chaewon began pacing back and forth, shaking her head in disapproval.

“why? after everything she did to you, why would you go back?” the leader asked as she looked down at you. you could see the look of disappointment on her face. 

you took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to explain your decision. the memories of the past, the pain and the longing, resurfaced, making it difficult to articulate your emotions clearly. but you still let your truth be told.

"i know it may be hard to understand, but there's something between us, something that's difficult to let go of," you replied, your voice filled with a mix of sadness and determination. “even after all this time, i can’t forget about her.”

sakura's gaze softened, her understanding evident. "it's not always easy to rationalize. but we're concerned about the impact this might have on the group dynamics, especially considering your history with yunjin."

"y/n,”  chaewon's frustration seemed to intensify as she shook her head. “i made a promise to both your sister and myself. i promised to take care of you.”

you met your leader’s gaze, your voice trembling slightly. "i understand your concerns, and i don't take them lightly. but i can't ignore the feelings i have for jimin. it's complicated, and i wish i had all the answers, but i know she’s different now.”

“how do you know that?” her eyes widened as she spoke to you. “how do you know for sure she won’t leave you in shambles like the last time?”

your heart ached at chaewon's questions, the echoes of doubt and fear mirroring your own inner turmoil. you understood where she was coming from, her protective instincts kicking in, but you also believed in the power of growth and change.

"i can't know for sure," you admitted, your voice laced with vulnerability. "but i've seen glimpses of it in jimin, moments where she's shown remorse and a genuine desire to make amends. i can just feel it. things are different this time."

“she ruined you,” chaewon shouted, her voice loud but her tone filled with despair. “i don’t want her to use you the same way…” the leader paused and stopped herself, staring at the ceiling to avoid tears from falling.

sakura poked the inside of her cheek as she looked at your visible confusion, eyes glancing towards chaewon who was now putting her hands over her face out of frustration.

“i don’t want her to use you the same way yunjin did.”

chaewon’s fists clenched as she watched the american exit your room slowly, hair disheveled and hickeys on her neck. 

“yah,” she called out from the dim hallway, trying to get yunjin’s attention. “you need to stop doing this to her.”

yunjin raised an eyebrow at her leader, confusion on her features. “why? she doesn’t want me to stop.”

chaewon took a deep breath, her voice steady as she confronted yunjin. "this isn't just about what she wants in the moment, yunjin. it's about the long-term impact of your actions and the potential consequences they may have on her well-being."

yunjin crossed her arms, a defiant expression on her face. "she's a grown adult who can make her own decisions. if she wants to be with me, who are you to intervene?"

chaewon's gaze hardened, her voice laced with determination. "i'm her leader, and more importantly, yours as well. i care about her happiness and want what's best for her. and right now, i don't believe that what you're doing is in her best interest."

yunjin scoffed, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "oh, and you think you know what's best for her? just because you're the leader doesn't mean you have all the answers."

chaewon's eyes narrowed, her voice firm. "no, i don't have all the answers, but i have a responsibility to look out for the members of this group. and i won't stand by and watch her get hurt again."

you knew chaewon was right. you had always known yunjin’s actions were not what the appeared to be.

huh yunjin liked broken things to stay broken. it made her feel better about herself. it made her feel needed.

“yunjin isn’t jimin.”

as the words slipped from your lips, the room fell into a heavy silence. chaewon and sakura exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of surprise and curiosity. it was clear that your statement held a deeper meaning.

chaewon uncrossed her arms, her eyes remaining on you as she took a seat once again. "what do you mean?"

you took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. "i think yunjin liked having me attached to her because it made her feel needed. but it always felt like i was indebted to her. jimin is different. she has never asked me for anything until now." you brushed a stray tear away from your eye and continued speaking. “the only thing she’s asking me for now is a second chance, and i’m giving it to her.”

sakura's gaze remained fixed on you, her intuition guiding her understanding. "do you trust that she’s not going to hurt you again?"

you nodded, a sense of conviction settling within you. "yes, that's what i believe. jimin sees the value in my healing, in our healing together. she doesn't want to use me; she just wants to rebuild something healthy and meaningful."

chaewon's eyes softened finally, her voice filled with a mixture of concern still. "look, i just want you to be happy, but i also want to make sure you're making the right choice for yourself.”

you nodded again, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "we've talked about it extensively. we've acknowledged the mistakes of the past. we're willing to put in the work to build a healthy relationship."

sakura's thoughtful expression turned into a gentle smile. "then, if you truly believe in the growth and change within jimin, we'll support you. we'll be there for you every step of the way.”

chaewon's features softened, her gaze filled with a mix of understanding and acceptance. "i may not fully comprehend it right now, but i trust you, y/n. i trust your judgment and your ability to navigate your own path."

“you sound like my sister.” you chuckled softly, slowly rising to your feet. chaewon only gave you a quick smile as she took in the look on your face. you smiled, and she felt just a little bit relieved to see you actually were happy.

you threw your arms around sakura first, mumbling a strand of thank yous to her. the japanese girl chuckled as she patted your back gently.

once you let the oldest girl go, you moved to hug chaewon tightly. she was surprised at the sudden firmness, but it only brought a small smile to her face.

"thank you," you whispered, your voice filled with gratitude. "you’re the best leader ever.”

“you’re the best, eunbi!”

chaewon slowly wrapped her arms around you, ignoring the way her vision became watery. “of course, y/n.” she whispered, taking a glance at sakura, who only sent her a knowing smile. 

perhaps she hadn’t failed you after all?

as she held you in her embrace, a mix of emotions swirled within her. her earlier doubts and feelings of inadequacy now seemed distant as she realized the support and understanding.

the tears that welled up in her eyes were not just those of sadness but also of relief and gratitude.

with a gentle squeeze, chaewon whispered, "i'm sorry if i ever made you doubt my care for you. i'm here for you, and i'll do my best to support you in whatever makes you happy."

sakura's knowing smile widened as she watched the exchange between the two of you. she had seen the doubts and struggles chaewon had carried, the weight of the leader's responsibility often burdening her. she was glad the other girl could see for herself that she was in fact a good leader.

and if she couldn’t see it right then and there, your words definitely did a better job instead.

"you've never failed me, unnie," you murmured, your voice filled with sincerity. "you've been there for me, even when i couldn't see it. i love you."

┊┊┊┊⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧　✵ ┊┊┊☆ *　　 * ⋆ ┊┊★ * ┊┊* . *　✦ ┊☆ ° ✧　 　 · ★*

you and jimin met as trainees before she debuted, and you two never felt more in love. however, once she breaks up with you before her debut, you completely leave SM entertainment under the notion of needing a fresh start. you eventually debuted a few years later in le sserafim, where you met huh yunjin and have slowly started developing feelings for the idol. much to karina's dismay, she hates to see you have moved on, but deep in your own heart, you still can't help but feel as if maybe she has forgotten about you.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @captivq , @wonyoluvr , @yunalvrrr , @spritin , @babycubchae , @vnschldd , @sserafimez , @chaersly , @rosiehrs , @baldd , @bwljules , @jenaissantesworld , @jennasluma , @dream-chasers-things , @lcv3lies , @elyds , @archerheejin , @vnschldd , @skisk1 , @cfvgbhndun-new-blog , @silantryoo , @phamminji , @bzeus28 , @writingficsblog , @strangegirlcode , @uzumakioden , @noiacha , @sserabey , @archerheejin , @pindoris , @yourstrulytrissmerigold , @jisooftme , @yacii , @ddrummie , @justalittledissociation

[ 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 ]

[i520u]

star-crossed ✩°｡ ⋆⸜

twenty. different

warnings: mentions of domestic abuse, substance abuse, also it’s a little suggestive if you squint

You spent almost the entirety of the day with Ricky. You’ve visited the downtown, and even spent a couple of hours at the funfair that was in Santa Monica Pier. He wasn’t quite ready to send you back home, which is why the two of you were spending the rest of the night by the beach. You found comfort in the sound of the waves and the wind gently blowing as the two of you enjoyed each other’s companies.

You looked into the distance as you and Ricky talked about things that didn’t seem to matter, but you knew you would remember every little detail for years to come. Little details like how he used to wear braces as a kid, his birthday being on National Strawberry-Picking Day, and things like how many juice boxes he had drank today.

“Are you cold?” He asked, eyeing you. You shook your head, your gaze still remained on the beach waves. It wasn’t a chilly night, so the winds felt like a friendly welcome. “Is something bothering you? Should I send you home?” He asked again, a hint of worry laced between his words.

This time, you darted your eyes to look at the blonde boy. It hasn’t been long since the two of you had started officially dating — maybe it was around 6 days? A week? You wondered why it took you so long to tell him the truth about your feelings, because looking back, it was quite obvious that he felt the same way as you did. Maybe you were just too oblivious and busy asking yourself whether he liked you or not.

Ricky gently grabbed your face, squeezing your cheeks together to bring you out of your own train of thoughts. “Heeeey. Y/N.” He called out, watching your eyebrows furrowing as he continued playing with your cheeks. “Don’t think about anything other than me when we’re together,” he sulked, a small pout forming on his lips. You let out a giggle at the sight of him, giving him a nod as a response. “Sorry.” You added.

Ricky released your face from his hands, he leaned closer to you with one hand on the surface of the sand as support. Your lips parted as your mind tried arranging your words before speaking it out, although your hard work of battling bilingual issues were ruined as he abruptly leaned closer to you to envelope you into a kiss.

His intention was for the kiss to be a quick one, almost like a peck. He just wanted to tease you a little, buy Ricky had overestimated himself. Maybe it was due to the fact that he had been dreaming of this day for so long that each time he plans on giving you a peck on the lips, his plan always backfires.

What was supposed to be a peck turned into a prolonged kiss, his lips gently moving against yours as you matched his rhythm. You could feel the butterflies in your stomach as your hand slowly slid up from his waist to his chest, tracing the outline of his muscles underneath his black top.

Ricky’s free hand made its way to the side of your cheek, holding you gently, and pulling you closer. You could feel him smiling through the kiss after you leaned against his hand like an instinct. He tilted his head to the side so he could kiss you better, his body leaning forward into you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your hand running through his hair as the kiss was turning heated.

Ricky pulled away for a second to catch his breath, eyeing you down through his half-lidded eyes. He let out a breathless chuckle before leaning in to kiss you again with the same level of intimacy as before, his hand wandering around your body the more the kiss deepened.

You eventually pulled away, your cheeks flushed and your lips swollen from how sensual the kiss turned out to be. Ricky seemed satisfied with himself, a smile plastered on his face as he stared at you.

“You’re pretty like this.” He complimented suddenly, giving you a wink. It only made you blush harder. YOU looked away almost immediately, breaking off the eye contact with him as you felt flustered. “Maybe you should get distracted more often so I could kiss you like that again.” He continued, followed by a soft giggle as he watched how shy you had become after a few teasing from him.

You pushed your body up to stand up from the sand, and Ricky followed suit. “Do you want to go home?” He asked, and you nodded your head, glancing at the time from your phone’s screen. It was getting super late into the night, and you didn’t want to reach home at the crack of dawn.

As the two of you began walking towards Ricky’s car, he didn’t hesitate to put an arm around your waist, keeping you close to him as you made small talk with him about the day, and what you had in plan for the day after.

The drive from the beach to your house was quite a long one, but it wasn’t a problem for Ricky. He didn’t mind even if he had to drive for hours as long as he’d get to spent the entire ride with you. He had one hand on the steering wheel, and the other was gently holding your hand, his fingers intertwined with yours while you softly drew circles on the back of his hand.

“By the way, Y/N,” Ricky paused, waiting for your response. You hummed, signalling for him to continue. “Did you and Yujin get into a fight? When the two of you bumped into each other at school sometimes, he never looked happy.” He asked, you pressed your lips together upon hearing his question as you didn’t think he would’ve noticed. Was it that obvious?

Yujin had been angry with you ever since you told him to stay away from Gyuvin a few days (or a week? You really couldn’t remember how long it has been since it happened) back. You were aware of their friendship, you knew that Gyuvin genuinely adores Yujin like his own brother, but you just couldn’t risk having Yujin around Gyuvin when he’s in that state. You’re okay with Yujin being angry at you and even hating you, as long as he was safe and sound.

Of course a part of you felt bad that you were generalising everyone who struggles with substance abuse to be just like your father, but you really couldn’t find it in you to be empathetic towards Gyuvin — even if he was (is?) your friend. You just couldn’t risk it.

Your mother struggled getting a divorce with your drunkard father and even moved to the other side of the world where the people are different, the cultures are different, and even the language is different just so her children could live freely without fear. You were not going to let that freedom be jeopardised, even if Gyuvin mattered to you a lot too.

Ricky noticed how silent you’ve become, he wondered if he had asked something that was private to you. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” He reassured. If he could give you a kiss on the head, he would. You shook your head almost immediately, “no, no. Sorry, I just got distracted.” You admitted. You inhaled a deep breath before telling Ricky what had happened between you and your brother. How he had went to hang out with Gyuvin, the weird text that Gyuvin sent you, and how you immediately demanded Yujin to go home. You told him basically everything.

“I know I’m being unfair to Gyuvin, it’s not that I don’t trust him. It’s just that I can’t risk leaving Yujin unsupervised with someone who’s not sober.” You sighed, you bit your lower lip as you started second-guessing your decision. “To make things worse, I told our mom about it, and now she doesn’t allow Yujin to see Gyuvin anymore for the time being. He can’t tutor Yujin anymore either, so that’s why he kinda hates me now.” You finished your explanation as you didn’t want to digress.

Ricky hummed in response as he took in everything you had just told him. He knew Gyuvin better than both you and Yujin, so you trusted that he would give a good input. “You did the right thing. Sober Gyuvin wouldn’t have allowed Yujin to be with him either.” His words felt assuring to you, the guilt had honestly been eating you alive for the past few days. Of course you care about Gyuvin, he’s your first friend when you came here. It’s just that Yujin is your priority.

Ricky flashed you a smile as he gave you a quick glance. “You should appreciate Yujin more. He’s clearly still naive. It’s a beautiful thing that doesn’t last long.” You felt yourself relaxing a little more upon hearing what he had said. Ricky was right, you were so busy worrying about Yujin hating you for restricting him from something, you didn’t realise that these were probably one of the few last times Yujin would ever act rashly due to his naivety. You had forgotten that he was still just a kid at heart.

You returned the smile, leaning closer to Ricky to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. The kiss surprised Ricky, his cheeks immediately turning red. “You’re such a good listener,” you told him, followed by a giggle as you watched him all flustered from your compliment. Ricky had a toothy grin, his smile was wide as he couldn’t help but get a little shy from the cute gesture.

With a soft chuckle, he tried to act casual. “Anything for you.”

When you arrived at your front porch, Ricky didn’t actually want to part ways with you. He wasn’t sure what made him so clingy, maybe he just liked being with you so much. “Well, I’ll see you on Monday at school?” You asked him, and he nodded in response. A slight pout evident on his lips as you began to put your belongings back into your handbag.

“Don’t forget your lipgloss,” he mentioned, reaching for the product that was mysteriously left on his side of the car. He wasn’t sure how it ended up there, but he wasn’t going to question it.

You leaned in to him to kiss him on the cheek again, although it didn’t worked out as well as you wanted to as he turned his head to hand you your lipgloss a second before you could kiss him. It ended up being a quick peck on his lips instead, but Ricky didn’t mind it, bringing you in for one more kiss.

He giggled afterwards, handing you the lip product. He waved at you as you began to leave his car. You leaned down to look at him through the window, “drive home safely!” You mouthed. Ricky nodded at your words, giving you an ‘OK’ sign. “Goodnight Y/N!”

masterlist | previous | next

synopsis ↯ in which you are paired up with ricky shen, who fully convinced himself that you purposely became his partner in order to date him.

𖤐 𖦹 ༘⋆⊹ nara’s note: next chapter is the last one + an epilogue I FEEL SOOOO SAD I LOVE THIS SERIES TOO MUCH

🏷️ ; @shiningstar-byulxx @jiaant11 @justemalove @okkomi @jeonghyeonsgf @blaycke @lvieee @softyminhee @starhyeon @rikislady @raeewe @se0ngmins @i-yeseo @aariiil @daydreamer5006 @ahnneyong @jayujus @girlokarina @aerxz @rikimylove @jisunglogy @pleasantgardendetective @mposkyje @ilovechanhee @livelaughlovelicky @igotkpoops @moonlightjungwon @imthewon @wycure @sunoosluvr @dumb-cxm-slxt @partiallyderived @sparklingsjy @jinkiseason @444yizhuo @wave2love @wtfhyuck

[mittysins]

Newt at Home

Includes: Trans mpreg, graphic labor and orgasmic birth

I'm so glad I was able to get this finished! First Mayternity, in the bag. Of course I needed to use Newt for this. I'm so proud that I've actually managed to complete a seasonal art piece. I hope you guys enjoy it!!

[FIND THE UNCENSORED ART ON TWITTER]

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

Okay, I'm not going to lie and say I'm not kind of freaked out. I'm standing in the kitchen wearing a loose shirt and a pair of sweatpants, quickly scribbling down the time in my notebook.

10:56 PM. I've been in labor for 10 hours, at least. I couldn't really tell at first, thinking the twinge in my lower abdomen was just Braxton Hicks. I ate my lunch and had a nap without a second thought.

Eventually I realized the pain wasn't going away, in fact it was introducing a new pressure in my hips that I was frankly not a fan of. Okay. So that’s how it is.

I started by emailing my professor. Just a vague mention of a family emergency, and that I was going to need an extension on an upcoming essay.

Continuing on, I sent a quick “baby’s on her way!” to the group chat where my friends were dicking around as they usually did. I laughed at their excited responses as I tapped my pen on the paper. Newest contraction started 43 seconds ago. I was doing just fine.

Then to get down to business. I blessed my past self for having half a mind to have everything ready a month beforehand. Everything I needed was in the bottom drawer of the baby’s dresser. A few old towels, a package of training pads, and settled neatly on top was a pair of sterile clamps and scissors within blue plastic packaging. I felt my heart skip a beat when I opened the drawer to set everything up. This was actually happening.

It was a waiting game from then on. Which is how I ended up here. My contractions are now 4 minutes apart and it's really starting to set in. My chest burns in a weird way, most likely a result of binding for years. I accepted the lung damage a long time ago, and it seems to be making itself well known as my breathing grows increasingly ragged. I can't quite keep my legs together anymore with that ever-present weight on my pelvis. It feels like something is about to give at any second. I assume it’s my water, honestly I figured it would have broken by now. I let out a long sigh as the contraction ends and set down the pen. I sway my hips as I flip through the notebook on the counter in front of me. Written on the first page is the date my pregnancy test was positive as well as a few phone numbers. I can still see a few splotches of faded numbers where my tears had mixed with the ink of my favorite pen. The next few pages were symptoms, weight, my medications including my testosterone gel. Everything medical. I was so scared all those months ago, it almost makes me anxious to look back on those pages. I prefer to look at the middle of the notebook, where I noted when I had gone a week without morning sickness, my first weird craving, the bizarre and vivid dreams I was having. My favorite was the page dedicated to name suggestions. All my friends took turns scribbling down names they liked, laughing and teasing each other as we crossed some out and circled others. It isn't too long before I flip to my current page and glance at my phone.

11:00 on the dot.

I bite my lip and continue my swaying with a firm grip on the counter. It hurts now. That's not to say it didn't hurt before, but now it's getting intense. Each clawing contraction feels like a band being tightened around my entire lower abdomen. It's enough to keep me tensed up with my head bowed for its entirety, until finally, finally, there's that give.

I let out a soft groan as my water breaks. It's not a huge gush like in the movies, more of like a gentle pop followed by a steady stream of fluid that lasts a few seconds. I take a moment to assess my situation. Pants need to come off, obviously, but after that? I couldn't quite decide. I weigh my options as I wattle back to my room and remove my sweatpants, tossing them into a laundry pile I'd designated to this whole ordeal. I could lay in bed with a pillow between my knees and just… wait. I quickly toss that option when I realize how little I've sat still since I even realized I was in labor. A shower sounds nice, the wetness between my legs is less than pleasant and the water on my back would be helpful. I could set up a spot on the couch, just throw down some waterproof pads and a towel or two and labor there, maybe get some last minute work done.

I tense up. Oh, now this is different. I subconsciously bend my knees a little as the contraction reaches its peak. The release of pressure when my water broke was heavenly, but the respite didn't last long. Instead the pressure returned, now bringing with it an intense fullness resting just at the base of my pelvis. I grimace as I feel more fluid trickle between my thighs. Shower it is.

I watch the clock switch to 11:04 as the contraction lets up.

It's a short walk across the hall to get to my bathroom. I realize how sensitive my nipples are when I peel off my shirt. I flush at the sound I make when the fabric drags, sending a jolt down my spine. I'm getting worked up and my heart rate quickens for a moment. I turn the faucet tab and slowly drag myself into the tub, letting the warm water run down my back and legs. For a few moments it feels like routine again. Just me and my baby. No college, no work, no bills, no angry parents. Just me, lowering myself to my knees in the shower, my baby burrowing dangerously low in my pelvis with the next contraction.

It's hard to keep track of time from then on. I'm sort of just zoning out a lot, concentrating closely with each new wave of pain and letting my mind wander in the steeply decreasing downtime. Eventually I’m talking aloud to her, telling her how loved she already is, that she can come on out when she’s ready, that I'm so excited to finally meet her. That I'm ready. My mindless blabbering stops when I feel a very sudden shift.

Before I realize it I'm openly groaning into the air with the gripping contraction. It all just got very real, and I can feel myself becoming frantic. The increase in pressure was maddening, and no amount of shifting and rolling my hips would relieve it. My last contraction was at most a minute ago. I don't have long at all. I decide to push, just the tiniest bit, at the end of the contraction. It's just a little shove, I don't even hold my breath. Just enough to try it out and get a feel for the sensation. If she’s coming, she's coming. If she’s not, what happens? I wait a little longer and try again?

Another timid nudge.

Yeah, she’s definitely coming.

As soon as the contraction lets up I turn off the shower and heave myself out to towel off. I almost want to jump out of my skin I'm so excited. A quick collection of my shirt, phone and towel and I’m waddling back into my room, haphazardly tossing them on my bed. I decide to wait until after the next contraction to climb up onto my bed and really get this show on the road. When I get a look at myself in the full length mirror near my dresser I have a chance to catch my breath. My taught belly has noticeably dropped, basically screaming to the world what was about to happen. I'm flushed and sweaty and my wet hair is still sticking to my forehead. I’m all out of sorts, but I couldn't care one bit what I look like right now. Baby couldn't care less either. That telltale tightening grips me again, and when it begs for me to push along with it, I deepen my stance into a half-squat and bare down.

It almost feels… good? It's a very odd sensation but it feels like such a release to finally get to work with the pressure instead of against it. Two firm pushes in front of the mirror and I decided my bed was there if I needed it. Instead, I swipe a training pad from the package and lay it down on the floor in front of the mirror before stepping onto it. And I wait. At this point I'm so eager to push it’s hard to focus on anything else. I slowly lower myself down to be half kneeling, one foot propped up to let my hips open. I suck in a deep breath, and just like that I'm stuck in a contraction and pushing so hard I see my face go red. Exhale, inhale, push like hell. So it goes.

It only takes a few good pushes to feel something hard and very noticeably large lodged in my birth canal. Between pushes one of my hands dips down and curiously prods at my lips. I don't know what I was expecting to feel, she’s definitely not there yet, but nevertheless I’m a lot more sensitive than usual. I feel perpetually slick now considering I've been leaking little by little for the last hour and a half. But that's not just it. The past twelve hours have been the most in-tune I've ever felt with my body, like we’re finally working towards the same goal of giving birth to my daughter safely and calmly. The excitement and the love mixed with the fullness of her head moving downward almost became ecstasy. One accidental brush to my sensitive clit and I'm shivering. The sudden rush of pleasure triggers a contraction and I weakly push through it. Once the contraction ends my fingers slip into my birth canal. I was disappointed for a moment when I didn't feel anything.

Until I did. About two and a half knuckles deep, there was the hard, slimy ball I had been working down for the past twelve hours.

Oh my fucking god, that’s my baby.

I was awestruck. Just allowing the pads of my middle and ring fingers to press against her head was enough to have me grinning like an idiot.

Returning my hand to its place on my knee, I bore down again with the upcoming contraction. This time a low groan escapes my throat and I find myself leaning forward just the slightest bit. Looking in the mirror, I become fixated on the bulge forming behind my lips. I'm leaking fluid considerably now, and I'm grunting out little pushes when I swear I see a dark sliver start to part my folds. I only saw it for a split second. My hand dips between my legs once more and I press a finger into my lips. Sure enough, just out of sight rests my baby’s head. The quick progress I made surprises me, and I let out a breathy laugh as I trace my fingers back up to my dick. The warm tingling in my belly when I rub a few experimental circles into the swollen nub quickly melts my grunts into soft moans. My breath quickens. I was expecting this to be horribly painful, yet here I am moaning with the next contraction. All I can focus on in the mirror is the sight of my lips parting for my baby’s head. I moan through the stretch of my perineum, letting my pleasure bring me higher as I watch my lips pull out into a teardrop shape.

My rubbing has found a steady pace, and my hips buck a bit. I'm close, I can tell, and I feel the head continue to push my lips open. That burn is starting to set in. Another firm push.

I almost yelp when the head stretches me to a full crown, but I find myself so awestruck by the sight that I fail to make any noise at all. My rubbing continues as there the head stays. The burn is searing. Until finally, the release of my orgasm carries me blissfully as the head surges forward with a gush.

I kneel there for a moment, legs shaking and eyes fluttering, as I process what just happened. The aftershocks distract me through the next contraction, giving me time to gather myself. I can see it in the mirror, my baby’s head hanging out of me as it's supported in my hands. A sob rips from my throat as my fingers wander, feeling her tiny ears and nose.

“Oooh-kaaaaay.” I breathe, shaking off the numb tingly feeling that accompanied my orgasm. My fingers fumble around the baby’s neck, quickly untangling the umbilical cord and pulling over her head.

After lifting myself up to standing, the short few steps that should have been my journey to my bed became a quest. I knew I had no chance of closing my legs at this point, so it's a slow shuffle making my way over with shaky legs and a hand between them to support my baby. Climbing up onto the mattress isn't much easier, but I eventually manage to sit up against my pillows, legs butterflied out. From there I wait.

“Come on, kiddo.” I encourage. “I’m ready, you can come out now.” I wiggle my hips and give a tiny push, trying to get her to turn.

Once she does, I'm all in. My hands find purchase behind my knees and I pull back, red in the face as I push as hard as I can for the shoulders. The way I'm sitting, I don’t even need the mirror to see. I watch as my swollen lips spread around the first shoulder, then the other with a small spurt of fluid, and then-

I barely have time to catch her as with the last push, the rest of the baby spills out with a gush.

“Oh my god-” I sputter out as I lift the infant to my chest. As soon as she touches my skin, she begins wailing. It's the most beautiful sound I've ever heard. I check her over with wide, misty eyes.

“You are just absolutely perfect, aren't you?”

I giggle at her squirming attempt to get comfortable. So that’s what’s been keeping me up at night.

The ache sets in quickly, and I make quick (quick enough) work of delivering the afterbirth, cutting the cord and making sure we were both cleaned up and warm. Once I'm in a pair of sweatpants and back with her on my bed, I lay her back down on my bare chest, opting for a light blanket to wear cape-style and cover us both. I'm absolutely awestruck.

“Alright, we’ve given your aunts and uncles enough emotional prep time, don't you think?” I say decidedly to the already-sleeping infant as I unlock my phone, quickly finding the “video call” button in the group chat.

I'm grinning like an idiot as three of my friends join the call at lightspeed, the other two following quickly behind.

“Guys, someone wants to meet you!”

[rarespawnwrites]

WIP Wednesday

Early Access Afterlife (dpxdc)

Okay. What had been said about his situation so far? The most common term used for what was happening to him was “transmigration”. Which just meant… moved? Somewhere else?

The somewhere else could mean his new (used?) body. Or it could mean this unfamiliar city. But the goat and the girl had made it sound like he was going to be living in a story.

Huh. It kind of sounded like Ghost Writer was running this whole thing.

Okay, so he was moved to a story. He was supposed to start in an action scene. He’d woken up in a coffin.

Danny mentally shuddered, the memory of seeping mud and things that wriggled overwhelming. His body, unconcerned, rescued an uneaten, still wrapped-in-foil hot dog someone had just dumped in a trash can.

Gross. Well, at least it was covered. It was even still warm.

What else? He had a quest. This whole thing was trying to be some kind of video game. Ghost Writer collab with Technus? Anyway, what was the quest…

The screen obligingly displayed his current quests for him. Well, quest. He only had the one right now.

Active Quests Tutorial Quest (Main): What Resurrects You Makes You Stronger Achieve the “Peak Human” ranking in 10 skills by the end of the tutorial period. Reward: Unknown Failure: Nonstandard Ending

Ten skills in four years, huh? Danny wasn’t sure what “Peak Human” meant to the system. He had no idea how long getting a skill to that level would take, but it had to be plausibly doable in the allotted time frame, right?

What did it mean by a nonstandard ending, was another question. Would it boot him back out of this body? Was it just another path this life could take that didn’t result in the original story?

Well, he needed to make some assumptions if he was going to get anywhere with this. So… Jazz had once read a book she’d gone on about that claimed it took 10,000 hours of practice to master any skill. For right now, that was as good a guess as any.

One of his benefits allowed him to learn skills five times faster than normal. Say it takes him 2,000 hours to get to the required level for each skill. He needed to practice enough for ten skills. That’s 20,000 hours.

Uh… that sounded like a lot?

How many hours were in a year? In four years?

Danny thought really pointedly at his screen about a calculator app. After a pause, one actually opened on its display. Finally, a convenience. He plugged in a few numbers to find out how many hours were in four years.

He frowned.

Then he checked how many hours would be left when accounting for 8 hours of sleep at night. If his mental state could be reflected in his body, his eye would have twitched at the result.

If Danny did… 16 straight hours of training a day, he’d have enough time for sleep and roughly one day off per week.

What.

Wait, so the two days he was spending zombified… those were the ENTIRETY of the free time he was allotted for the next two weeks?!

There’s no way. Bring on the nonstandard ending. Danny had been a half-ghost and a ghost-ghost, what could this world even scare him with?

【System Message】 A new entry has been generated and added to your codex: Nonstandard Endings.

Did he really want to look?

The answer was no.

He looked.

【Codex】 Entry – Nonstandard Endings All Joker routes Amanda Waller route Black Mask route Cadmus route Court of Owls route Despair route Dollmaker route Gnomon route ...see more

Selecting a route displayed a blank, rectangular area with a title caption. The blank area seemed like it was obscuring an image he hadn't unlocked, but the title caption was visible. Below that was a section labeled “Summary” that was, like the images and unavailable sections of the System Store, locked.

Daniel looked through a few routes, then picked up speed as he scanned through more and more.

Even after the “see more” it seemed the title captions didn’t change in flavor: Brainwashed ending; Zealot ending; Mind-Controlled ending; Specimen ending…

【System Store】 Looking for the perfect ending? Want a little variety in your new life? Give yourself another chance! And another, and another! Buy the Regressor Package to do it all over again. Collect CGs from every route! Buy for 100 credits

Who would want that?! Every single ending implied mindless slavery!

Also, why does the system have pop-up ads? ...It was probably time to check out that options menu.

[henrysglock]

Because they blocked me instead of taking it straight from the horse's mouth that they misinterpreted the entirety of Papa Warbucks, I'd like to deconstruct the other things that particular "critique" took issue with, which I had saved to my phone so I could address when I had time. I did that while I had them unblocked/before they blocked me, because honestly I did want them to see my explanations.

Alas, here we are.

Number 1:

This just in. No more daddy kink. Pack it up, guys...let's go home...the kink police are here...

Also, to be clear, it was Henry who did that in PW. It wasn't even something Martin suggested Henry do. Henry's just a little freak who likes to press buttons to see what they do because, in keeping with TFS, Martin refers to his father as Papa. Henry can tell Martin's got daddy issues out the wazoo, it's something they discussed not even half an hour prior, and the poor guy just. blurts it out. It's not like Martin was there rubbing his grubby hands together like "uhuhuhu can I coerce Henry into calling me Papa in bed? uhuhuh". It was very much something on Henry's end.

(However, regarding Henry's button-pushing when he's lacking inhibitions, see also: Henry addressing Martin as "Captain" as a joke, which is a play on the whole "Martin's dad wouldn't approve" thing from earlier in the night. It's a bit.)

Number 2:

Martin Brenner may have been a psychiatrist by trade, but that didn't mean he couldn't recognize a work of art when he saw one.

Martin loved his job, no doubt; the human mind was his passion.

Bro...this is what he does for a living. It's his career. He's never met a puzzle he couldn't solve. He's fascinated by Henry. What a terrible thing. A tragedy, truly, and godawful abuse towards Henry, too. /s

Also, here's the "pouncing on mommy issues and insecurities" in question:

"My mother would say it's one of those ideas that kept me out of the good schools." Oh, there's something. Martin wanted to tug on that thread. A bit daring, especially for a first (and possibly only) date, but it was worth tucking away for later. If there was something he loved, it was taking people apart like puzzles.

"I mean, it was a joke, technically...but it would be kinda interesting to find out what, collectively, is wrong with the lot of us." Martin's reply, in all its blunt, factual glory, was out before he could stop it. "Autism, primarily." The shocked blink that greeted him in the rearview narrowed into amused incredulity as they breezed through the parking lot. "Is this a dinner date or a diagnosis?" Henry snarked, the bite of his tone undermined by the teasing twist of his lips. "Did my mother put you up to this?" Nevermind. Threads exist to be pulled. The backstory lurking behind his date's doe eyes was proving to be an irresistible treat. "That's the second time you've mentioned your mother, Henry. Tell me—is she not pleased that you're attending to the best art school in the country?"

The man literally just wants to know the dirt on Virginia CreeI, yes because it will tell him more about Henry, but also because he's a nosy cunt who likes knowing about the Drama. What a crime. How predatory.

Henry gives it back in kind, though ("Is this a date or a diagnosis?"), and he's very much aware of Martin's tendency to play detective. Henry's not stupid.

Rein it in, idiot. Henry's inner monologue had always been his most scathing critic; it was no different now, as he rounded the front of the town car and willed himself to stop yapping. Forget being trans, this is why no one wants to date you. Remember what Mom said about you and emotional labor? Martin's a psychiatrist, he can smell that stuff a mile away—

And regarding seeing Henry as an experiment, here's the only section where that comes up:

I wonder who made him so reluctant to let people spoil him, Martin thought as he watched the young man across from him fiddle with his napkin. No doubt it's his mother. Perhaps it was the doctor in him, but Henry's attitude towards having money spent on him only made Martin want to dote on him more, to see if he could get him to accept generosity without attaching guilt to it. What had started out as the prelude to one nice meal for a pretty, starving artist was rapidly progressing into a full-fledged experiment, and the best place to start with an experiment was questions. "So, Henry," he broke the brief silence that had fallen between them, "What area of art do you study? Animation, painting..." As expected, the open-ended question had Henry tearing his eyes off the square of maroon fabric in his lap.

The "experiment" in question:

Martin views the thing in general as "how much money can I get away with spending on a nice young man", but there's also a definite aspect of him genuinely liking Henry as a person.

Rather, it was that he had no idea how much he would enjoy Henry’s company on its own, all else aside. He was awkward, obviously, but he was also funny and almost painfully genuine; there was a charm to it all that Martin suspected most people couldn’t evade. "You know, maybe I ought to take you back to Rochester with me after all," he mused, more to himself than to Henry...

Christ. Maybe he wasn't too far off with that basement thing earlier. He shook his head, a little helpless. I met him this afternoon and I'd already like him to be a permanent fixture in my life. I need to get ahold of myself.

And yes, the secret basement laboratory is a running joke. Henry started it.

“Is that funny?” “No! No. I just…You are taking me to dinner, right? You didn’t pick me up at a con to lock me up in your secret underground asylum and study my brain or something, right?” Henry’s giggles slipped into outright laughter, the awkward tension in the car ebbing away as Martin found himself incapable of restraining a smile of his own. “No, Henry. Unfortunately,” he sincerely hoped the young man in his backseat could read the sarcasm in his tone, “I don’t have an underground asylum to lock you away in.” “Oh my God, wouldn’t that be just the thing, though.” Henry cleared his throat and adopted what Martin assumed to be his best impression of a hoity-toity doctor, “‘Longitudinal Study of Midwest Comic-Con Attendees’ Brain Abnormalities’.”

What a travesty, overall. 500 lashes for James Henrysglock.

Number 3:

Girl (gn) please.

It happens 7 times (I re-counted), and one of them was "20-something year old boy" like. That's an adult. You ever heard of older people referring to younger men as boys? People calling it "boy troubles" even when they're in college? No? Okay.

You know how many times Martin refers to Henry as a whole-ass man, though? 12 times.

There's also a whole bit about Martin sitting there worrying because he didn't double check that Henry was old enough to drink. Everyone here knows Henry's a grown ass man.

Mountain of a molehill makin' ass. Christ.

Also, Henry is not at all naive. He knows what he's about.

See:

Henry making the choice, unprompted, to bring protection

He glanced at the bedside digital clock. Seven-ten. He could feel a ball of something nervous and fluttery taking root in the pit of his stomach, the kind that made him feel the need to shake like a wet dog to shed the excess energy. Oh god. Would it be too presumptuous of me to stick a condom in my pocket? He’d never even know if we didn’t…y’know. But if we did, maybe it would come off as thoughtful? Easy? Smart? Full of myself? The clock read seven-fifteen. Henry dug around in his suitcase and produced the single little foil package he’d stuck in there just on the remote chance someone wanted to screw him. It stared him right in the face, pinched between his forefinger and thumb. Better safe than sorry. Right? I should just. Hoo-boy. I’m doing this. Seven-twenty-two. Henry shoved the condom in his front-right pocket as fast as he could, like he was ripping off a band-aid.

Henry reading Martin like a fucking BOOK

Maybe he went into psych stuff to spite his dad, or maybe to figure out what his damage was. Maybe he was an army kid, I know vets aren't always chill about psych stuff. After all, he seems about the right age to have had a dad who went to Vietnam. ... I may have been right about him being a military kid. "What, did he expect you to join the army or something?" "Navy, actually. He was a captain himself, and I suppose he expected I'd follow in his footsteps." Henry wanted to smile at the fact that he'd been right, but he figured it wouldn't exactly be appropriate for the situation and briefly sucked his lower lip into his mouth instead.

What I believe that point from the "critique" is picking up on is that Henry's inexperienced. He's a virgin. He's 21. Thus, he doesn't know how sex normally goes. He's awkward. He doesn't know jack shit about wine selections, other than "cheap and fruity is best".

Also...I'm not sure if OP missed it, but "easily flustered" is one of Henry's BIGGEST character traits. He's a nervous overthinker, a rambler, a dog in a "NERVOUS" vest. He doesn't know how to take praise gracefully. He says cringeworthy things and immediately kicks himself over it.

And yes, Martin thinks it's cute. Because it is cutesy behavior. Read any sugar mommy/daddy fic, and I guarantee they'll see a flustered sugar baby as something worth fawning over. That's part of the genre, I fear.

As for people being under the impression that they're father and son? THAT'S ANOTHER RUNNING JOKE. IT'S A BIT.

It starts in the very first section with Martin being put off by Virginia and thinking that he'd put Henry up in a nicer hotel if he were in her shoes.

“Hilton? God, no. I was lucky my dad talked my mom into putting me up at the ‘8.” If he were my son, he’d be put up in a suite on-site, Martin groused internally. Logically, he knew it was irrational to try and coerce Henry into moving rooms, and that the Hilton likely had no rooms left regardless. That didn’t mean it didn’t irk him anyway.

And then Henry jokes about their age gap re: booze

"D'you think they'll card me?" Maybe Henry wasn't over the legal drinking age, then. It wasn't unheard of for someone to be twenty years old at the end of their junior year. Perhaps Henry was born in September and would be turning twenty-one shortly after beginning his senior year...or maybe he'd graduated high school early. He was attending a prestigious school, after all. Martin swallowed down and staunchly ignored the odd gut-punch feeling that realization came with, and peeked across the table over top of the menu. "Just precautionary, nothing more." "I mean," Henry cocked a mischievous eyebrow, "you could always just say you're my dad. That makes it legal, right?" Recovering quickly from the momentary shock of hearing a statement like that come out of his date's mouth (and as if he hadn't had thoughts along the exact same lines himself just that afternoon) Martin coughed a little and shook his head. "No, no. I'm afraid Indiana is a little too...conservative for parental permission allowances." "Eugh," Henry scrunched his nose like a bunny, vague disgust playing out across his face as he dug his wallet out, "That's a bummer. It's a good thing I'm twenty-one, then, huh?"

It's the same as going "Do I still pass for 12?" about a goddamn kids menu. IT'S A BIT.

Then, the server assumes they're related because of the age gap. This is a play on married couples being mistaken for blood family.

"Is this going to be on one card, or are you splitting it with your...son?" "...One card will suffice." From across the table, he could feel Henry's eyes trained on his face as he tucked his credit card into the folder. Son. That's...hm. Well. Third time's the charm, I suppose. "Very good. I'll have this right back for you." As soon as the server was back out of range, Martin let himself look back over at Henry, who was still watching him with a sly smile. "Not gonna correct him?" "I wasn't the one who suggested that I play your father on the off chance you didn't bring your ID." Henry shrugged with his eyebrows, a quick up-down of acquiescence. "Touché. Thank you for paying."

And Martin returns the joke that Henry started. IT'S A BIT. IT'S AN INSIDE JOKE.

And when it happens a second time, but without the ability to joke about it, Henry is offended and has half a mind to correct the receptionist before deciding it's not worth the time. (Because he's wise enough to know he's never going to see this person again, so why bother?)

"Creel? Room twenty-two? That room doesn't have an outstanding balance on it." "...What?" "Yeah. A man came by and paid it. He said he knew you. Tall, about six-two, maybe six-three? Brown hair, middle aged? The last name on the card was, uh..." he tapped a few keys, and then squinted down at the computer, "Brenner." Henry's response was out before he could stop it. "You're shitting me." "Nope. I have better things to do than lie to teenagers. Take it up with yer Pop." He would have sputtered indignantly, but he thought better of it when he realized it was simpler to just nod and go on his way than try to explain to the receptionist that no, Martin wasn't his father, he was some well-off guy he'd met at a comic con who seemed to have taken a special liking to him after they'd slept together.

Also, has no one ever heard of calling someone a child to be nasty to them/to tell them that they're being annoying? That is what's happening, here.

The "son" thing was a BIT. It was a JOKE. and as soon as Henry can't joke about it, he's upset by the assumption. He's not happy people assume the two of them are father and son. Christ.

Also, parting notes:

I sure hope you didn't keep those poor people held up for over an hour. Sounds fake anyway, like one of those old tumblr posts with "and everyone in the grocery store cheered".

Also...have you ever heard of the term "hate-fucking"? It's kind of a pillar of fandom.

Okay, that's all I have to say. Cheers!

[maccreadysbaby]

Project: Killcode

batfamily + oc insert

tw: gore?

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

its kinda short but THIS SCENE IS SO INTENSE

part thirty-six

❝ DEFENSELESS ❞

MONDAY — AUGUST 6 — 6:44AM

BENTLEY DIDN’T HEAR OR SEE THE SECRET KEEPER AGAIN.

He stayed in Bellamy’s room for almost the entirety of Saturday and Sunday, and when Monday came around, he begrudgingly got himself ready for class in the wee hours of the morning. Asten didn’t talk to him. He didn’t talk to Asten.

He just… didn’t think about anything. Ignoring his problems usually worked…

When the seven of them went to breakfast, the cafeteria was oddly emptier than usual. But they also went a little earlier than they typically did, so Bentley didn’t think much about it. Varian bounced around like the social butterfly he was, everyone talked, (except Bentley and Asten) and it was normal.

And then, when they went to first period, it suddenly became kinda not normal. Because his and Koa’s English classroom only had about half the students it was supposed to, leaving lots of desks completely empty and the room much quieter than normal.

The two of them took their seats in the back of the class, eyes bouncing across the empty chairs.

“Where is everybody?” Bentley questioned. Tyler was still there, (because of course he’d be.) and probably about a dozen other kids, if his estimating skills were accurate. It was so few they could probably put one student at each table and still not have one at them all.

“I think a lot of kids are sick,” Koa shrugged, sitting down next to him and dropping his bag on the floor. “From what I’ve heard, whatever’s going around is super contagious.”

Bentley cringed. “I hope we don’t get it. I’ve heard it’s rough.”

“Same,” Koa replied. “Some of mine and Var’s friends have been sick as dogs for, like, an entire week. They said one of the nurses comes to their room to check on them everyday. Awkward.”

“Why don’t they just send them home?” Bentley questioned.

“Most of these kids don’t have homes to be sent back to,” Koa replied, and Bentley didn’t say anything. “We’re some of the lucky ones.”

A moment of quiet passed, before Bentley muttered: “Oh.”

“Yeah. You’d be shocked how many parents decide they don’t want their kids once they start to show their powers,” Koa mumbled, plopping his binder on the desk with a whack.

Bentley wondered if that was what happened to Koa — he’d said he lived with Artimi; He never spoke about his parents in the slightest. In fact, the only one of their roommates that ever talked about their parents was Varian. (And Bentley guessed himself, too… but did it even count if Bruce wasn’t actually his dad?)

Bentley flinched when a piece of crumpled up paper whapped him in the side of the head, falling onto their worktop with a quiet sound. When he glanced up, Tyler was smirking at him.

With a brief inhale, Bentley grabbed the paper and un-crumbled it to the best of his ability, glancing down at the words scrawled across it.

How long should I wait until I tell the whole school about your overnight hangout sesh with Chloe Singh, Redwood’s biggest whore? I bet everyone will wonder what happened when you two disappeared together…

Bentley stared at the words, dragging his eyes across the letters one last time before he looked back up. Tyler had this smug look on his face like he’d done something really cool, and he wiggled his eyebrows in Bentley’s direction.

How had he figured that out? Bentley had only told Asten, and Asten didn’t know what girl it was. Chloe said she hadn’t told anyone and forced her roommates into silence. Did she lie to him, too? Or did her roommates talk anyways?

Of all the people who could’ve found out…

Bentley crumpled the paper back up and shoved it in his blazer pocket. He felt Koa’s eyes lingering on him, but he didn’t look over — he just looked at Tyler and then down at his desk.

That was all he could think about until the end of the class period, when the bell rang and he and Koa went out in the hallway to head to their next class. Maybe if he straight up sprinted, he could-

“Hey, Wayne!”

Bentley groaned dramatically, turning with a patented eyeroll to look behind him. Tyler was catching up with them, a dorky grin on his face like he had some good news to share. Bentley was not in the mood for him. He was so not in the mood for him that he almost thought about literally killing Tyler on his approach, but he assumed that wouldn’t be moral.

“I am not dealing with you today, Abbott,” Koa called over his shoulder, barely sparing a glance at him.

Bentley saw Tyler’s eyes narrow, and he spat: “Then it’s a good thing I wasn’t talking to you, asshole.”

Bentley turned back around and kept walking — so Tyler grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around, forcing their gazes to lock. Bentley jerked his shoulder out of his grip and huffed loudly, the familiar sound of water in pipes gracing his eardrums.

Tyler looked down at him like he was ready to give him hell, but suddenly, his face changed a little. “Don’t lose your shit, test tube meta. Put those eyes away.”

Bentley scowled at him. “What are you talking about?”

Tyler lifted his pointer finger to the center of Bentley’s forehead and shoved him back a step, and he suddenly had to refrain from drowning him in his own blood. “When you get all pissed, your eyes start glowing.”

Bentley just glared at him.

“That’s how I knew you made my drink explode. Those stupid blue light-bulbs on your face,” Tyler snickered. “It’s a dead giveaway if I’ve ever seen one.”

Was that how everyone always knew when he was listening? His eyes started glowing? He’d always wondered how everyone knew when to ask what he was hearing…

“I have no interest in talking to you right now,” Bentley muttered, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Good for you; I don’t care. But your little bodyguard can go ahead and get lost,” Tyler replied, glancing over Bentley’s shoulder at what he assumed was Koa.

Bentley glanced backwards at him; He was giving Tyler another death glare. “Just go ahead, I’ll be right behind you.”

Koa’s seafoam green eyes flicked between him and Tyler a few times, before finally, he turned and made his way out of the building behind the final straggling students.

Tyler sighed. “Now that we have the hall to ourselves…”

“How did you find out about me and Chloe?” Bentley grumbled, tightening his crossed arms over his chest. Tyler laughed; literally laughed.

“You know all my favorite subjects, Wayne,” He shook his head with a smile. “Let’s just say a little birdy told me.”

The word birdy only worked to piss Bentley off more. “Well, if you know that much, then you know exactly what happened. Or, should I say, exactly what didn’t happen.”

Tyler shrugged. “I do. But that doesn’t mean everyone else will once the rumor spreads like wildfire. Soon everyone will be talking about your little rendezvous with Chloe. And rumors typically get more drastic as they go on… I’d sure hate for it to get passed onto administration; Maybe even down the grapevine to your dear friends in Gotham? Wouldn’t that be something?”

“What do you want, Tyler? Other than to inflate your ego until you can’t fit it on campus anymore?”

Tyler snickered, his eyes bouncing across Bentley’s face, glowing with sheer arrogance. “Who said I want anything other than to watch you squirm?”

Something… moved, in the back of Bentley’s mind. Like something had clicked into place without him having to think about it, like a thought, a fact had just been dropped directly into his brain from somewhere else. A manageably dull pang of pain came with it, throbbing momentarily on the base of his skull.

He blinked. “You’re jealous of me.”

How did he know that? He wasn’t sure, but somehow he knew it was correct. 

Tyler’s expression changed very quickly from amused to cold, and angry. “Why the hell would I be jealous of you? You’re a little shrimp.”

Bentley shrugged. “Maybe because I managed to befriend all the girls you can only pull when you’re dreaming,” He replied, eyes traveling over Tyler’s frame -- his fists were clenched by his sides, and Bentley suspected that he was about to be punched or something. “Just by being a decent human being. Something you’re obviously incapable of doing.”

Tyler made a sound akin to a groan of frustration, and in an instance, vines came shooting down the hallway mid-air from one of the exit doors. The green, slither-y things latched onto Bentley’s ankles and wrists in a death grip, and he gasped lightly when they jerked him off the floor and up into the air, tugging all of his appendages in different directions like they were about to rip him apart -- just enough to cause a little pain at each joint.

“Test me, you little bitch,” Tyler growled, and the vines tightened enough to probably make Bentley bruise. He could hear the water in the pipes, Tyler’s blood pulsing through his veins, the liquid inside the vines keeping them alive.

Tyler was glaring at Bentley like his eyes would sprout lasers that would kill him on the spot.

Bentley glanced up at the vines, tugging against them to no avail -- all it did was claw at his skin and make it hurt worse. The vines were so strong they hardly moved when he wiggled against them. “Let me go.”

“No, I don’t think I will. It’s time you learn to respect your elders,” Tyler replied. A vine sprouted out of virtually nowhere and slithered around Bentley’s head, looping over his mouth and making it impossible to speak. His head was forced perfectly forward, and he tried to squirm again, but the vines didn’t budge at all -- not a part of him moved an inch.

He focused hard on the water in the pipes, and he felt it come pouring out of all the faucets in the nearest bathroom a few halls away, accompanied by a loud gushing sound.

“Ah-ah-ah,” Tyler tutted. Bentley tried to make the water move through the bathroom door, he couldn’t -- there was a wall of vines in the way. He couldn’t bring it up through the ceiling or down through the floor or through the walls without damaging the school building. “You can’t swim your way out of this one, Wayne.”

The vines around Bentley’s wrists started to tighten purposefully, and spin, rubbing his skin raw in a matter of seconds -- he might’ve cried out if the vines weren’t over his mouth, but he couldn’t, so he just grimaced and made a muted noise at the unquenchable burning it caused. 

“I’m going to make you wish you were never born,” Tyler grumbled, a dark smile twisting up his lips. The vines that were around Bentley’s head began to sprout smaller ones, and a few of them forced his mouth open and crawled into his throat, making it almost impossible to breathe. He choked on them but he couldn’t cough, couldn’t do anything other than try really hard to breathe through his nose. His eyes watered from the silent choking until the reflex tears fell down his face.

“Aw, don’t cry, Wayne,” Tyler mocked in a high-pitched voice, cocking a brow at him. “It’s only your airway. You can survive without it for… well, eight minutes, maybe?”

Bentley could hear his own heart pounding, almost double the pace of Tyler’s, and the vines in his throat made him gag. He tried to force the water between the vines that were in the bathroom doorway, but he couldn’t -- they were wound too tightly.

He couldn't breathe. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe. He could hear the water in the pipes and the dew on the grass and the blood in Tyler’s veins pounding, pounding, pounding-

Tyler’s face suddenly lost every arrogant, amused expression, and Bentley heard his heart keep pounding and pounding and pounding until it was beating way too fast. Tyler staggered backwards slightly and brought a hand up to his nose -- when he pulled it away, it was bloody. 

“What the hell are you doing to me?” He grumbled, panting like he’d been running a marathon. Bentley only watched as blood surfaced in his ears and started to pour down the sides of his face, and he grabbed at his shirt where his heart was. “Stop it! I can’t- can’t breathe.”

Bentley felt the vines inside of him double in size, completely closing off his airway. 

Tyler was trying to knock him out.

At the complete absence of breathing, Bentley panicked -- Tyler started blinking rapidly, and tears of blood started to run down his cheeks. 

“Stop it! You’re going to kill me!”

You’re going to kill me!

He remembered the last time someone said that to him -- it was her. The Secret Keeper, when she had him hanging by a noose off the edge of a building, when she had crimson running from her ears and her eyes and her nose. Her. A criminal. A supervillain. A murderer.

Tyler wasn’t any of those things. He was just a kid.

Bentley focused on him again just in time to see him hack up a mouthful of blood all over the floor.

So he stopped.

He forced the sound of the water to fade from his mind, he slowed Tyler’s blood back to its normal pace, and the water in the bathroom climbed back up into the sinks. He focused and focused and focused until everything went quiet again -- until he was the same defenseless Bentley he had been before he'd gotten superpowers at all.

Tyler continued to cough for a few moments before he regained his breath, spitting on the floor a pink-ish, bloody saliva. He used the sleeve of his blazer to wipe the red away from his eyes.

He looked up at Bentley, shocked, then down at the blood all over himself and the floor. “You just tried to kill me!” He shouted. Bentley tried to focus on him, but he couldn’t -- the lack of air was starting to make his lungs feel like they were on fire, and everything around him was swimming in and out of focus.

Another shout from Tyler: “You just tried to kill me!” Was the last thing Bentley heard before the world faded to black.

Should he have continued to defend himself?

--

tag list that never works lmao

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun

@xiaonothere

@skylathescholarly @flyrobinflyy

[ghoul-foolery]

Dirty Windows | 20 | Nora x Hancock

A Fallout 4 Soulmate AU

//

Fic Summary:

Hancock never thought he would find his soulmate. Once a common occurrence, soulmates turned into a bit of a rarity after the bombs dropped. It was to be expected when there was an influx of people getting shot in the face on a daily basis. So when Hancock discovered that he had a soulmate he was ecstatic; all of the people in the Commonwealth, and he was one of the lucky few.

Too bad his soulmate didn't want anything to do with him.

When Nora thought for sure she was going to die too, the pain stopped – and then there was nothing. Nothing but the emptiness. Nothing but the grief. Half of her soul was suddenly gone forever. She was dropped in the middle of the ocean, drifting among the waves with no land in sight. Then just as suddenly she had been cast adrift, she found land. The hole was filled the moment it had been created. As she gripped Nate’s vault suit and begged him to open his eyes, Nora found herself battling with the horrifying realization that she had another soulmate; that some stranger had taken Nate's place.

//

[ 1 ] <- [ 15 ] [ 16 ] [ 17 ] [ 18 ] [ 19 ] - [ 21 ]

//

After her night at the drive-in, Nora continued her wandering. There was no goal, no destination. To be honest, Nora enjoyed the purposelessness of it. After graduating from high school, she had wanted to see the world. It had been a grand plan; shoving what necessities she could into a backpack and hiking through some foreign country. That’s all it had been, though; a plan, an idea, a dream. Instead of traveling she went to college, and got into law school. She met Nate, got married, and had a kid. And she was happy. Her life had been nearly perfect. There had been days where she completely forgot about her desires to see the world and its various cultures, and then there were other days, when she was up to her elbows in paperwork, where traveling had been all she could think about. She had responsibilities to tend to, though. Dropping everything to go travel was unrealistic, and irresponsible.

Trekking through the Commonwealth was her chance, she supposed. It was a different world, a different culture. What necessities she could find were in a backpack, and she was traveling, so to speak. She wasn’t traveling with her group of tight-knit friends, but Dog was good company. He was a loyal mutt. He always stayed in sight, traveling with her even when he wasn’t right at her side. It was a nice day, quiet, and as the hours ticked on, Nora was absolutely delighted to acknowledge that the day had been wildly uneventful.

At least, it had been. Right until it wasn’t. 

The first distant roll of thunder had her hair standing on end, and when she turned her attention to the skies she cringed. The entirety of the sky behind her was covered in a blanket of thick, dark clouds. There wasn’t any particular place to take shelter, and with that lack of protection, all Nora could do was pick up her pace, and keep moving. As her anxiety surfaced, as her pace picked up to a near jog, Dog trotted on beside her, completely carefree. She wondered how he had made it through the storms in the past, she wondered who his previous owners were, or if he had just been a very lucky stray. Mulling over Dog’s origins helped keep her thoughts occupied so she wasn’t focused on the impending shit-storm that was coming her way, but it didn’t stop it from getting closer.

No matter how fast she moved, the storm managed to gain ground. The thunder exploded, taunting her as she shifted to a steady run. Her Geiger counter clicked once, twice. The ability to be aware of her surroundings fled her as she ran.  She no longer kept her gun at the ready, she no longer took sweeping gazes along her surroundings. She could have run right by a whole group of raiders, and she would have had no idea. She was focused on finding shelter. 

So when a shrill whistle reached her ears, she tripped on her own feet and reached for her gun. She pivoted, searching for the source – there was an small public pool in the not-so-far-off distance, still filled with water. There was a pool house, ancient but still standing. It had no doors, and from afar Nora could see that the interior was well lit. There were a handful of people milling about, ignoring the incoming storm, but there was a lone person standing a little ways off to the side, their arms in the air, waving to catch her attention. Nora stilled, even as her Geiger counter began to click, she stood and weighed her options. Another whistle, somehow louder than the last… and then Dog was trotting towards the man, carefree and bushy tailed.

With no other options on the table, Nora decided to trust Dog’s judgment. She ran after him, her legs feeling achy and heavy, and her lungs burning. The air around her tasted rancid, it smelled like burnt ozone– the world lit in a shock of green. 

Either the people occupying the pool house would kill her, or the radstorm would. Dog didn’t seem put off by the person, though. In fact, the dog ran right to the man’s side, and sat – waiting for Nora to arrive. As Nora drew closer, she recognized the man as another ghoul. It was a little surreal seeing one in person. Though the damage that had been done to the man was similar to John’s – no nose, ears seemingly fused to the side of his head, strange eyes, warped skin – he also managed to look so incredibly different. The ruined skin was a different color, eyes shaped a bit differently. There were basic things, too, bone structure and body type. He was just another person. Another human. 

By the time she reached them, she was coated in a thin layer of rain, her Pip-Boy continuously clicking at a nice, even pace. When the thunder exploded and the lightning flashed the clicking increased then dropped. It sounded like a metronome.

“You aren’t gonna find a place before this storm lets loose!” The man called over the sound of rain and increasing wind. “You got the supplies you need?”

“I-I don’t—“

That was all that was needed to be said. He gestured for her to follow him, and he left no room for argument as he turned and breached the fence line. He walked around the outer rim of the pool towards the pool house. Dog, the traitor, trotted right along with him. Nora followed, a little hesitant and still out of breath. She followed the ghoul into the pool house, accepting her incoming fate, whatever it may be. The room was filled with a number of dressed beds, all aligned in neat rows. The man went to a mounted wall cabinet on the far side of the room, and then he turned to her, a few pills in his hand.

“Rad-X,” he rasped, holding a collection of four pills out to her expectantly, he even showed her the bottle. His voice carried a similar gravel to John’s, but his cracked a little more on certain syllables. She wondered how radiation affected vocal chords. 

“Thank you,” she murmured, plucking the pills from his hand. Her fingertips brushed his palm, it was rough in texture, feeling like callused skin. A quick once over showed the careful construction of muscle groups, the textures of the fibers that helped his hand move. She was almost positive that she could see the muscle contract.

“You got water?”

“Yeah,” she said on a nod, already slinging her pack from her shoulder. As she struggled to find her water bottle, the man walked past her and towards another section of the building. It was a walled off area, with a men’s restroom sign hanging above the entry way.

“I’ll getcha a towel so you can dry up.”

Nora watched him go. “Thank you, sir.”

The second he was on the other side of the room, Nora focused and reached, “John?”

Though she was willing to accept whatever help she could, she wasn’t exactly keen on the idea of accepting miscellaneous pills from a total stranger. They were nondescript, with no etchings or symbols. They were a plain white, circular in shape.

”What’s goin’ on-“ a crash of thunder made his voice falter, and he swore loudly. ”Fuck, are you in another radstorm?”

Nora focused on the pills in her hand, keeping her voice low, “What is this?”

There wasn’t even a second of contemplation before he answered, “Rad-X. Helps ya withstand rads a bit better. Take two to start.”

Nora sighed softly, relieved, and then popped two pills in her mouth and pocketed the others. She took a couple hearty swigs of water. When she heard footsteps approaching she lifted her head, seeing the same ghoul that had flagged her down. There was a threadbare towel in his hand that looked delightfully dry.

“Here.” He passed her the towel.

”Who the fuck is that?”

“Thank you, sir,” she said again earnestly, drying off her face before toweling at her hair. “Really, I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t flagged me down.”

“It was no problem,” the man rasped, smiling gently. He had a kind face. “You didn’t look like you would have made it for much longer.”

”Nora, if you wanted to hang out with a ghoul, all ya had t’do was say so…”

She tried to ignore John, but it was getting increasingly difficult as his jealousy seeped over the bond towards her. She blocked out his emotions before she could seem ungrateful to her host. “I don’t think I would have, to be honest. I’ll pay you for the Rad-X.“

“Don’t worry about it,” he said on a shrug. “Don’t have much of a need for it here. Rad storms don’t do much to us ghouls. It looks like it’s gonna be hanging around for a bit. You’re more than welcome to stay for the evening.”

Nora smiled. She’d thanked him several times, but she did again, “Thank you. Really. I’m Nora…” she held out her hand, and the ghoul seemed surprised but accepted it. His grasp was gentle, and kind, and she could feel all of the muscles in his hand bunching and tightening. Would John’s hands be this rough, too? 

“Wiseman.”

“It’s nice to meet you.”

Over the bond, John seemed to growl irritably. Nora sighed, pushing her sense of ease towards him but it was useless. Wiseman released her hand, turning and gesturing to another ghoul that had just stepped into the building. It was another male, wearing an old flannel shirt.

“Jones, this is Nora. She’s gonna stay for the evening. Mind setting her up with a bed?”

The ghoul smiled by way of greeting. Nora didn’t miss the quick once over the man gave her, but it wasn’t intimidating. It wasn’t salacious. It was curiosity, and not much else. “Of course.”

Hancock didn’t seem to share her opinion, he felt like he was on the verge of throwing a fit. Nora sighed internally. She was going to have a talk with him later once she had some alone time. Her soulmate seemed to have some jealousy issues.

//

Tag List: @takottai / @a-little-pebbl  / @yamatra