#yes I need to empty my brain sometimes

[lxmelle]

It’s worth noting that the draft & final version of the KFC breakup scene tie to the same scene where Riko is being carried by Gojo. The message is similar. One was a draft after all.

I’m not & don’t wish to be involved in discourse over ships, but the bottomline is that Gojo could’ve ended Geto’s life at any time. I’m sure Geto knew that. He was waiting for Gojo to intervene; hence, the “you’re late Satoru”.

Just demonstrating how the dialogue in both the draft & the final version tie back into the same scene.

オマエは悪くない - used in this context, Gojo responded to Geto’s words saying that it didn’t matter if he was ok, since Riko lost her life, and it carried the meaning “it’s not your fault”.

「君に殺られるのなら悪くない」is the drafted version meaning, “to be killed by you, wouldn’t be a bad thing.”

The use of 悪くない can be don’t mind/OK.

But, if it is meant to draw a parallel w/ the scene in HI, then it implies that Geto is giving Gojo permission/will not fault him. He then moves onto say that Gojo should “be careful” not to kill anyone else but him, as he disappears.

Moving into the final version…. In HI Geto implies it’d be meaningless 意味がない to cull the civilians as they’re just followers

And that meaning is very important as a sorcerer.

Thus the one that made the final scene is Geto imploring Gojo to decide himself & it’s reminiscent of their exchange. Just as Gojo signs to stop him, he says: Kill if you want to kill, there would be meaning/意味がある

So Gojo is left to think about their exchange in either version.

It should have achieved the same thing from Gojo’s perspective either way.

If we think back to the first exchange, Geto stops Gojo from harming the innocents; he wants Gojo to stay true to it. The message is still “I won’t blame you if you kill me”. Whenever that is.

It’s interesting that Geto goes onto do what he preached: he kills Sonoda and Sonoda alone shortly after.

And just in case we need a reminder of who Sonoda is:

He, too, acted out what his message to Gojo was. I think he knew he deserved death & that Gojo should believe that it wouldn’t be a bad thing if he did.

Gojo’s first “human” life (not curse) he took was Toji’s. We dunno why he went after him when he said he didn’t want revenge. Was it to test his powers? Finish the battle? Regardless, Riko & Kuroi were avenged w/ Toji & Sonoda dead. They each avenged her death.

He also knew Gojo had the capacity in him to kill humans. Hence, phrases like “you could do it, Satoru” & “if I could be you” & “unlike you I’m soft/kind” & “there would be no meaning” have all been said by Geto to Gojo. So in my mind, he clearly wanted Gojo to kill him. It could’ve been appropriate for Gege to use the drafted version as a way for Geto to reiterate his message to Gojo all along - don’t kill humans. You stay on your path and fight for humans and I’ll descend as the monster because I can’t be a sorcerer.

He left the method & moment to kill him entirely up for Gojo to decide.

So if that is Gege’s intention for Geto to communicate to Gojo… The final version of their exchange may have been better because Geto didn’t dictate that Gojo should be careful not to kill anyone. And it wouldn’t sound like a threat / taunt where he’s warning Gojo not to open fire then & there. At most, I can imagine he wished to see Gojo respect him as a friend. But realistically, Geto had already accepted his death. And if he cared that much about his ideology and his ideology alone, he would’ve asked Gojo to “kill me now!” And be happy that humans died. “Or come with me!” And whoopee, his ideals could be realised. But he didn’t.

So it leads me to believe he wanted to let Gojo’s hand go like on the Ao no sumika cover. And not drag him down. And Gojo honoured that love Geto had for him although it was hard on them both. Gojo understood.

And honestly I don’t believe Geto necessarily harmed humans indiscriminately either. He seemed to embody the belief that only those who deserve to die should die, even if he said he wanted to force evolution and tried his best to self-affirm that he hated humans. He believed Gojo should do the same especially on his own path as a sorcerer, not curse user. Thus the advice of “be careful not to kill anyone other than me” was not misplaced.

Over time Geto might’ve come to believe that that was one of the reasons why Gojo didn’t fire at him then and there. Which is also why we saw Kenny recollect that scene and cook up that plan to seal Gojo in the box. But he was wrong and that 1% chance of Gojo opening his domain happened - Gojo took a calculated risk against humans “for the better good”.

More blabbing here if you’re interested: https://www.tumblr.com/lxmelle/755427466440491008/just-some-thoughts-about-satosugu-and-how-they

[heartshattering]

5 AM

Just me and my overactive mind facing the nighttime again 🙃

[suskz]

Hi pretty!! Can i request something about seungmin or lee know being a dilf luv u!!

pairing: dad!Minho x fem!Reader

t/w: fluff ; smut ; single dad Minho ; babysitter reader ; reader is an adult ; oral (m!rec) ; piv sex.

w/c: around 2.5k

a/n: please dilf Minho is so 😵‍💫 my brain said SEX SEX SEX but my heart wanted more. I hope you like it!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Sometimes you think about how it could have happened, if it had to happen, and if all of this is wrong.

Don’t get me wrong, he’s a handsome man. He’s mature, responsible, and so, so sweet.

But you wonder if all of this is really necessary, as your phone rings inside your bag on the chair.

You both stop your movements, and your eyes meet again. It’s really embarrassing to be interrupted at this point.

His grip on your hair doesn’t change, “Do you want to answer?” He asks only out of politeness, because he doesn’t really want you to answer. He wants you to stay on your knees and let him continue without interruptions because damn, your mouth feels so good around him and he just can’t get enough of it.

You think about it for a few seconds, but the answer is already written in your eyes.

You shake your head without even taking his cock out of your mouth, and the sight is so hot that he moans just from that.

“You’re unreal.” His hand resumes guiding the movements of your head, “You look fucking gorgeous with your mouth full.”

You squeeze your legs together at the praise and don’t suppress the moan that his words elicit because you know it sends vibrations to his cock that drive him crazy.

That’s why his hips buck hard into your mouth, pushing his cock deeper and making you choke around it for a moment.

He stops, “Sorry, did I hurt you?”

You shake your head no and start moving it again on your own, back and forth, letting him know that you’re fine and want to continue.

“Such a good girl.” His hand holds your head still as his hips begin to move quickly, “Taking cock so well,” he’s no longer looking into your eyes; he’s watching the spot where his cock enters and exits your mouth now, “Like you were— made for it.”

His breathing has sped up again. Your phone has stopped ringing, and now the only sounds you can hear are his soft breaths and moans.

The tears forming in your eyes make them shiny. Your face is probably a mess, but what’s important is that he feels good inside your warm mouth.

And he does, because his hips start to stutter erratically.

It takes just one look at your face and he’s throwing his head back, urgently pulling his cock out of your mouth, stroking himself hard and fast through his climax.

You feel a bit disappointed, honestly, because you really wanted him to come inside your mouth, but you don’t complain when you feel the spurts of his hot cum land on your face. Some on your cheeks, some over your nose, even on your eyelashes and your still-outstretched tongue.

You didn’t even have time to close your mouth before he came, but it’s fine. At least you tasted it a little.

“Wait, don’t open your eyes.” You do as you’re told and feel him taking something. His hand delicately takes your chin to lift your face, and with a tissue, he wipes the com from your eyes so you can open them again without anything getting in.

You thank him as you sit on the bed next to him, taking the tissue he hands you to clean the rest of your face.

And you look at yourself in the mirror when you’re in front of the bathroom sink and feel something weighing on you. Your mind is empty, there are no thoughts bothering you, yet there’s something that makes you feel bad.

But everything gets better when you return to him and look at him. He’s so handsome, even as he does something as simple as gathering some papers into his work folder.

He glances up at you, “Do you need something?”

“Uh- no, just- I wanted to take Eunji to the park today, is that okay?” Yes, it is okay, it’s fine, it’s always fine if it’s with you, but you don’t know what else to come up with.

He chuckles, perhaps amused by the silliness of your question, “Of course, there’s no problem, you already know.”

And soon you part ways. He rushes to work, you rush to pick up the little girl from school.

His child. The daughter of the man you just gave a blowjob to. The daughter of the single man you’ve maybe gotten a little too close to in these past few months, and who might almost be your father’s age. But it’s okay like this.

—

"Can I taste yours?" Eunji looks at you with those puppy eyes that you can't say no to. She knows it and takes advantage of it, little brat.

Her eyes light up as she tastes your ice cream. She lowers her eyes to hers with a sad expression, "Yours is so good."

You roll your eyes at her unspoken but obvious request, "Want to swap?"

She looks at you with sparkling eyes and nods eagerly.

You smile sweetly at her, and it's at this moment that your phone vibrates in your pocket.

It's Minho.

You're confused by his message until you hear Eunji's voice and see her getting up, "There's daddy!" You turn your head in the direction she started running, and you see him, waiting for her with open arms.

He has such an affectionate, serene, and sincere smile as he picks her up and spins her a couple of times in his arms —gently, mindful of the ice cream she holds— that you can't take your eyes off them. And you can't help the way your heart melts at the sight and a smile forms on your lips.

You see him lick her ice cream and see them talking, but you don't understand what they're saying.

Then it's like he remembers your presence and turns to look at you. You watch as he approaches you, and you stand up.

“Come join us too, Y/n! Group hug!” Eunji’s words freeze you in place amidst the white flowers of the field, and even Minho’s shoulders seem to stiffen.

It all happens so quickly though. It has to happen quickly. Because there’s nothing wrong with hugging after everything you’ve done together. It should be normal, right? It should be natural for the two of you.

Yet you feel hesitant, and Minho seems slightly embarrassed. It’s just new. It’s strange to say, but it is. Many things have happened between the two of you, but never this.

You try not to think about it as you accept his invitation and position yourself between his arms, wrapping your arms around him and the little girl.

You try not to think about how this is the first time you’re hugging him and might be the last, as you unconsciously melt into his embrace and savor the moment for as long as it lasts.

And of course, sooner or later you have to let go.

“Why are you here at this hour?” You try to sound as normal as possible despite the slight —not so slight— discomfort.

“I didn’t quite understand it myself, but they let me go earlier.” He, on the other hand, shrugs and seems to be fine.

“Then Y/n can come home with us, and we can all be together!” The little girl, still in her father’s arms, cheers happily.

Minho chuckles, “She’ll have things to do too, don’t you think?” Then he turns to you, “You can leave early today.”

Actually, you would have preferred Eunji’s proposal, but you’re forced to go along with Minho’s.

The girl rests her head on her father’s shoulder and sighs sadly.

You and Minho look at each other, then he looks at her, “What’s wrong?” He asks her sweetly.

“I wanted Y/n to stay with us,” she says, her voice trembling as if on the verge of tears, which she isn’t.

“I think Y/n would prefer to go home now, she must be tired.”

She sniffs, “Can she come for dinner at least?”

Minho seems to consider it. Oh, how he would enthusiastically say yes if he could, if only it didn’t seem weird.

Instead, he looks at you, the question already written in his eyes, “Would you like to? No pressure.”

Yet you feel the pressure anyway, from the weight of both their gazes, waiting for your response.

And so, a few hours later, you find yourself in front of Minho’s apartment door, dressed in your black shorts, chosen because of the heat.

When the door opens, you are greeted by a warm smile from Minho, holding a wooden spoon, and a hug from Eunji. Moments later, you’re in the kitchen, standing behind him as he moves around the stove expertly, and you feel so useless.

“I’d like to help, but I’d probably burn everything.”

There’s something good in this, because it makes him chuckle. “No problem,” he replies calmly, “I’m almost done anyway.”

“I want to be useful though.”

He turns towards you and raises an eyebrow, “Is it really you who’s saying that?”

Your cheeks tinge with a slight blush. You try to be helpful and he teases you like this.

“Sorry for trying to be useful once in a while.” you say sarcastically, rolling your eyes.

He grins and turns back, “You can set the table while I finish.”

“It’ll be done!” you say, “By the way, that apron suits you really well.”

“Really?” he asks, surprised, then wrinkles his nose, “It makes me look like a cleaning lady or something; at least that’s what Eunji says.”

You laugh at his words, “Eunji is just a kid,” you reassure him. “I think it makes you look hot.” you add in a slightly lower voice.

Your eyes linger on him for just a second, but you swear you see his ears start to darken.

—

Dinner goes well, with a warm atmosphere and calm conversation.

Afterward, it’s Eunji who decides the plans. After all, you are there specifically for her. Or rather, at her request.

Time passes without you even noticing. Between board games and stories told by the little girl, you and Minho manage to find time to talk just between yourselves.

He holds back laughter while telling you about that time Jeongin, whoever he is, fell into a manhole, and his eyes sparkle as you talk about the saga you just finished watching.

When you finally glance at the clock, you regret not paying more attention.

You quickly get up, but Minho stops you, “Wait,” you freeze in your tracks, “It’s really too late, it would be dangerous to go out at this hour.”

He doesn’t want you to leave. He doesn’t want you to leave because he’s worried about you. And he doesn’t want you to leave because it’s a chance for him, a chance to spend precious time with you that he can’t let slip away now that it’s presented to him. 

“I don’t want to be a burden-”

He doesn’t let you finish the sentence, “You won’t be a burden, I’m the one offering you to stay.” His voice is firm, and faced with his eyes so serious and determined, you agree to spend the night there.

After putting Eunji to bed, Minho quietly exits her room and finds himself facing you. You look into each other’s eyes, irises like chained together, and you smile at each other, amidst sentences and words kept hidden.

He prepares a space for you to sleep on the couch, and eventually, you both sit there, side by side.

“Eunji is really fond of you,” Minho says, looking down at his hands, “I think she sees in you something that I can’t be.” He lifts his eyes, meeting yours, understanding.

“You’re already enough for her; I’m just an addition.”

“You’re not an addition; you’re important to her.” He insists. And to me, he wants to add, but knows he can’t say that.

And then the unexpected happens. You don’t know who makes the first move, who leans in first, but it doesn’t matter when his lips are on yours, in a sweet kiss. A loving kiss ruined by wandering hands that force it to deepen.

But, fuck, you’d ruin it a thousand times over if it meant finding yourself beneath him every time, with his cock thrusting in and out of you in a needy, perhaps somewhat desperate way.

And you’re so wet that you know the bed sheets will need a good wash in the morning.

His voice is like a caress when he leans over you with his lips at your ear, “Shhh,” he whispers softly, “We don’t want to wake Eunji, do we?”

You are forced to bite your lower lip to stifle the sounds that want —need— to escape your lips.

But his thrusts are so well-aimed and deep, his hips so precise, and his moans released right into your ear so fucking arousing that you have to reach out and grab a pillow to place over your mouth.

He looks back at you, and a louder, needier moan leaves his parted lips, as his expression shifts from one of concentration to pure pleasure.

It’s only when you feel close that you move the pillow. “Minho, I’m close…” you warn him.

“Me too,” he groans, “Come with me.”

“Yes, yes, yes! J-just a little more, please.”

He does his best to hold back a little longer, and it only takes a few circles on your clit to make you come, tightening around his cock that finishes inside the condom.

He doesn’t realise it immediately, too caught up in the pleasure, but as he tries to catch his breath, he thinks about it and realizes.

“I love you- Minho, I-” You said it just before coming; it might have been something of the moment.

He lifts his head from where it’s resting in the crook of your neck and looks at you.

You are motionless, embarrassed, regretful. Because, fuck, you didn’t really need to say it. You could have realised the gravity of your words before saying them.

And Minho could pretend nothing happened. He could act like he didn’t hear it, and you could go on as usual. But, fuck, he can’t.

The words escape his lips before he can stop them, “Did you really mean it?” He’s so direct, a request so desperate.

And you could say, “No, it was just the heat of the moment.” but apparently, that’s not really an option for you, because you speak without thinking twice, and you couldn’t feel freer when he smiles and kisses you. His soft lips on yours, in a moment you both have been waiting for so long.

And when the next morning he wakes up first and observes your sleeping face and relaxed body, he couldn’t feel happier.

Because he doesn’t have to hide anything from you anymore.

Because you love him too.

[hyunebunx]

💝 with jisung 🤭

˖˙ ᰋ ── 💝- 'a sudden kiss to catch the partner off guard'

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: manaa <33 i hope you enjoy this as much as i loved writing it <3 thank you sm for requesting!

It wasn’t a rare occurrence to drop by and find your boyfriend creating, brainstorming for another song while strumming his guitar or tapping a pen on the table to the rhythm created in his head. Inspiration struck at the oddest of times, not giving him a break no matter how spent or exhausted he was. And you had to understand – when the creative juices were flowing and he was in the zone, nothing and absolutely nobody mattered until he finished the song.

You find yourself in his room, sitting across from each other on the floor as you’re listening to your boyfriend go on and on about this new idea of his, strumming random chords on his guitar as he struggled to find a note he was satisfied with.

His fluffy brown hair bounces everywhere as he talks, glasses dropping a little too low on the bridge of his nose as he hasn’t raised his head from the instrument since you came in, half an hour ago.

“I’ve had this melody stuck in my head since yesterday but I can’t seem to get it out.” He hums, in hopes you might recognize it or help him somehow. He’s out of luck because truth be told, you stopped listening ten minutes ago.

You loved his creativity and passion but sometimes, like right now, you just needed his love and affection and Jisung has been too busy to notice.

“How about a snack?” You ask, standing up to which your joints thank you joyfully.

Jisung mumbles a quick ‘yes’, granting you his attention for a split second before he’s back to his guitar, hunched over in concentration.

The house is empty except for you two, with Jisung’s roommate, Minho, away on a family trip. You’d never thought you’d miss his loud and over the top laughter but now, when your boyfriend was barely paying you any attention, its absence pains you. You never realized how lively Minho kept things around here – you need to show your appreciation when he returns.

You linger longer than necessary in the kitchen, preparing snacks and drinks for the both of you before shuffling back to Jisung’s room, thankful the door was left ajar with how full your hands have gotten.

The moment you step inside, Jisung’s head snaps up with the most endearing smile stretched across his face, glasses a little bit crooked. “Baby! I got it! Hear me out, please!”

His happiness lights up the room in such a way that almost blinds you, his smile contagious and making it hard to resist the urge to smother him with your love. Jisung has never given you a warning, for if you got one, you might’ve prepared yourself better before falling head over heels in love with him. Though, you can never prepare for these things. Love sneaks up on you the moment it finds an opening, when your guard is down and the last thing you expect is being hit by cupid’s arrow, right in the heart.

Looking back, you don’t think you ever stood a chance. You were doomed from the start, when Han Jisung walked in the room you were in, a few years ago, laughing loudly with the previously mentioned roommate. Your heart has been his ever since, the sound reeling it in and never releasing it.

He’s babbling on, excited, as you set the plates down on his dresses, making your way towards him with a newfound purpose. When you lean down to get his attention, he tilts his head up with a dazzling smile, still talking and oh so unsuspecting of your next move.

Without warning, you peck his lips, causing the words to die on his tongue as he freezes, reflexively kissing back the second time your lips meet even if his brain hasn’t caught up yet.

“Sorry,” you whisper against his lips, his mouth agape in surprise as you stare right into his hazy eyes, “you looked too adorable, I couldn’t help myself.”

The loud sound of the guitar tumbling out of his grasp startles you, and you look down in concern while Jisung doesn’t even seem to notice, too enthralled to care. Your kisses always had that effect on him, and he’s sure they’ll continue to do so no matter how many years pass. You had him wrapped around your little finger after all, the victim of the spell your love cast on him the moment he set eyes on you.

“Ji?” You shake his shoulder lightly before crouching down to return his guitar. “The song, baby?”

“What song?” Is the first thing he manages to let out, clearing his throat as he finally comes to.

You giggle, and that’s all it takes Jisung to set the guitar aside and pull you to him by your waist, cushioning your fall as you collapse onto him before his lips are on yours again, kissing you passionately.

For a moment there, he forgot his own name. How was he supposed to remember whatever song he came up with when you used your evil powers to steal all of his attention? Though, he supposes you can’t steal something that’s always been rightfully yours…

[oimitocat]

FLUSH MY HEART | SKZ

༘۠ chan , felix & jisung (seperate) x m!reader

༘۠ omegaverse! au + idol! au + nsfw + fluff, fluff, fluff! + slight crying + alpha!reader + mating cycle! + cock warming

༘۠ a/n; this was such a cute request!

chan’s a delicate one during heat.

from how often he’s been on suppressants, his body is overreactive during heat

yet he knows you’re the sweetest most caring alpha during his cycle

due to all his stress and lack of sleep, during his heat he’s more so sleepy and whiney than desperate for a knot

yet you figured the best way to satisfy him is to be balls deep inside him while he naps

goodness, he loves that more than the tender, warm kisses you leave on his flushed skin

fight me, but he’s definitely a pillow princess during his heat

he only has you, you, you and your knot in his mind

you always praise him and it just makes him go slack, head empty aside from your words bouncing around his brain

“baby,” you grunt softly against his neck, “you like that? feel full?”

he whimpers softly, half his face flush against the pillow.

“what a good omega, such a beautiful obedient baby.”

he’ll orgasm just from that.

since his heats are irregular, his body is pent up by the time it comes, hence as much as he just wants to stay huddled up to you and float on your scent, he knows he has to have you deep inside him

you always move him around, mark him up and overstimulate him so good he still feels sensitive after his heat

he’s so thirsty during heat, and i don’t mean for water

during regular sex, he’s shy and mostly lets you do what you want but during heat? oh baby, you need to just sit there and give him your knot

he’s a pretty vicious omega during heat, you can’t go out for no reason. he will growl if you try to leave the room and/or if anyone is at the door

normaly it’s the alpha that has hella stamina, but in jisung’s case, it’s always him that overstimulates you

his heats are consistent, every month for four days, while it’s normal for it to be every 3 months. because his heats are so consistent, his body craves more than normal. you could’ve popped four knots already and he’ll still ride you without a complaint from him.

“j-jisung-“

“alpha,” he pants, smiling feverishly at you. he’s damp in sweat, bangs dripping with it. his eyes are lidded when so alive, so hungry. “again, alpha, knot me.”

it’s not a request it’s a demand. your eyes rolls back and your hips spasm.

as much as he likes being marked up by you, he does it to you too

he’ll bite, suck along your collarbone. he’s purr when you hiss or complain.

as high as his drive is, he still has a few tender moments, when he’s sitting on top of you, with your knot deep inside, kissing your wetly and with his arms around you

as long as you’re inside him, he’s more than satisfied

sometimes you have to walk with him still attached to you, his clinginess goes beyond you. he literally wants you on him and in him at all times, but obviously if it comes to restroom usage he’ll make an exception, as long as he’s in the same spot as you he’s more than satisfied

stop, he’s always overwhelmed

meaning, show him love and he’ll cry because he feels like he doesn’t seserve an alpha like you

his scent gland is oversensitive, so you kissing it gets the cutest noises out of him

he likes it when he’s on his back and you raise his hips to rut into him, he loves seeing you lose yourself in him

he loves to talk you through it, it makes him feel so useful for you

“y/n… you like using me? you like it when i clench around you as you cum? you like it when i milk you?”

you’d shiver and grunt in agreement.

“does alpha love filling his omega with his cum?”

“y-yes.”

“is felix the only one you can get fuck like this?”

“fuck,” you’d pop another knot. “yes baby, just you.”

he’ll pepper kisses all over you and cuddle you to sleep

he’ll pump pheromones so you can get scent high and go crazy over him

he’ll want you to coat his stomach with your cum, fuck his thighs, his mouth, he’s all in it to please you even when he’s in heat

he loves it when you fuck him from behind and yank his hair, mark his nape with bites and grip his hips

he likes being shoved into the sheets and treated like a rag doll

he thrives on you using him just as much as he melts when you coddle him and whisper sweet nothings into his ear

make him cry, make him gag. just make him remember he’s yours during and after his heat

[aramynx]

hello! i really LOOOVEE your writings especially shouto’s if it’s alright with you could you please write about shouto being such a gentleman as a boyfriend that the reader can depend entirely on him? like the reader is sooo independent until she’s with shouto, she could ‘turn her brain off’ bcs she knows shouto would take care of everything for her hehehehe. THANK YOU IN ADVANCEE ILYYY

YES 🫶 ABSOLUTELY ‼️🫶 I HOPE YOU ENJOYYYYY

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

DEPENDABLE…

SHOTO TODOROKI X READER

summary: shoto is so eager to help you in any way he can, he’s happy to do whatever it takes to make your days even just a little bit easier

a/n: i love this so much actually, it’s more of a ramble than a coherent story but i hope you enjoy! thank you so much for your request! xoxo

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

It was hard for you to learn to depend on others. Until you started dating Shoto, you were absolutely determined to do everything yourself- that’s what you were already used to and it was never really a problem. When Shoto came along, it was like you never had to do anything for yourself again when he was with you.

With Shoto around, you didn’t need to worry about if you’d be able to pay your part of the shared rent that month; if you needed to depend on Shoto a little then you could. He already thinks that you should let him cover the rent since his income is much higher, but understands that you feel the need to contribute. If you chose to stop working at any point, you’d be able to live comfortably with Shoto.

The dynamic of his parents’ marriage isn’t something Shoto wants to recreate in your relationship. Around the house, his mother was always taking care of things; she was constantly exhausted since her workload was infinite. Shoto thinks of it as unfair, since he also lives in your shared home, he should take on some chores when he’s able to.

Usually, you’re very insistent on doing the majority of the work since Shoto is the main breadwinner for you both, so he decides he’ll do his part in the early hours of the morning before you have a chance to wake up and protest.

You wake up tucked into bed comfortably, Shoto’s pillow fluffed up neatly beside you in the empty space. The air is cold as you walk downstairs slowly, making your way towards the pile of laundry you had been avoiding for the last couple of days. As you approched the laundry room, a gentle hum could be heard from the other side of the door. Upon opening if, you were greeted by the pleasant sight of the laundry washed, dried, and folded on top of the machine, separated into yours and Shoto’s respective clothing. Beside it, a small yellow sticky note:

“Good morning, my love. I hope this makes your day a bit easier. Love, Shoto.”

Shoto was always happy to help you- he didn’t think of it as a chore, it was his responsibility. Carrying groceries inside was something he had learnt to master doing in one trip from the car to the kitchen, and of course, your hands were always empty. Whenever you’d go shopping together, Shoto would carry all of the bags, no matter how many. He’d try and fit as many as he could in one hand to make sure you could still hold his other if you wanted to.

Despite having his hands full 90% of the time, Shoto makes sure he opens doors for you, smiling as you walk though and wait for him on the other side. He tends to move himself to the outside of the pavement when you walk together, keeping you close to him in more crowded areas of the city. His hands seem to always stop you from mindlessly walking over crossings without looking; something that he’s grown used to you doing when he’s beside you. Shoto doesn’t really understand why you seem to enter a complete trance around him- he thinks that you get lost in your own little world sometimes, and the starry expression on your face only convinces him more.

He knows how you were before he came along- you’d do everything by yourself, no matter how difficult. He knows you’re capable, but he doesn’t want you to feel as if you need to do everything alone- he wants to look after you to the best of his ability, and he expects nothing from you in return.

Cooking definitely isn’t Shoto’s strongest skill. He can manage the basics, just barely. He’s definitely gotten better by watching you cook for him in the evenings, a starstruck look in his eyes as he does. Nothing tastes better than the meals you cook for him. You’re happy to give something back to the man who does almost everything for you, especially when he smiles so warmly every time you place his plate in front of him. You stay at the table together until you both finish, then Shoto thanks you for the food, and takes your plates over to the sink to start washing up. It’s a little routine you’ve developed over time.

While Shoto’s busy doing dishes, you tidy up the table and wipe it down before heading into the living room and picking a new movie for you to watch together, gathering blankets and cushions to create the perfect cuddle nest. After a few minutes, Shoto comes in to see you flicking through your options. He sets two drinks down on the table in front of you and presses a kiss to your forehead before asking what you were going to watch that night. If you needed anything at all, he’d be the one getting up, no matter how comfortable he was.

When you inevitable fall asleep on the couch, Shoto turns off the movie and scoops you up to carry you to bed, placing you down as gently as he can and tucking you in, his lips lightly pressing against your forehead before he whispers,

“Sweet dreams, my dear…”

Being around Shoto meant that you could float around doing little tasks without worrying about so many things at once- after all, your dependable boyfriend had already managed to get them done before you could object.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

[auroralwriting]

second chances

bucky barnes x reader (no use of y/n, next-door-neighbor trope!)

you once came face-to-face with the winter soldier, will bucky barnes be any different?

word count: 1.6k. | no warnings

The Winter Soldier's face was etched into your mind since the day you'd seen him. It was one of those average days in New York, you'd just gone out for some shopping. Sometimes Avenger sightings were normal, but seeing Captain America in full sprint was a sure fire sign something was amiss. That was when the shooting began.

You were quick to move people, ducking them under tables, shooing them further up the street, making them take corners to evade the flying bullets. It was just an instinct, there were too many people who could get hurt.

Then, you saw him.

His face was covered by a mask, but that arm, his left arm! It was completely metal. That was one of the features you burned into your brain, along with his hair color, skin color, height. The pure adrenaline and fear had pushed you to stop, freeze in place, and memorize the man.

It was then you were ushered to move by the man you found out was The Falcon. You were safe, but the smoke, the bullets, the explosions, it was all muted and dull compared to The Winter Soldier.

Years had gone by, you'd been a victim to what they called The Blip. Five whole years had forced you to relocate to Brooklyn, some cheap ass apartment building you were sure was haunted. You'd been living there for five months, got some furniture, meet the neighbors, it was a place content with being home. The one aspect that kept you up was the empty apartment next to you. It had been rotting since you moved in, you wondered who would fill its void, make the place a home once more.

It didn't take more than those five months for your answer to appear. It was grocery day, a list in your pocket and your wallet in hand, you'd just stepped out the door. Turning around, there he was.

It had been so many years since that fateful day, but you knew that stance, the hair color, height, everything about him. Through a peek in his jacket, you saw the hint of metal.

It was obvious he knew what you were thinking. The way your breath was heavy, eyes widened, there was no way he didn't know exactly what was rushing though your mind. He opened his mouth, but you rushed down the hall before he could say anything. The elevator ride down was when it hit you; he was your neighbor.

It had taken a week and a half for Bucky to gather the courage to face you. That look in your eyes was pure fear, he knew it all too well. He'd checked his list a hundred times, but your name wasn't on it. Okay, maybe he'd done some light digging into you, just a quick ask of some of the neighbors and he learned your name. He'd never hurt you, but that also didn't mean you'd never encountered him, either.

White fur of his cat, Alpine, brushed between his legs. The cat stared at Bucky, giving a soft meow. Bucky sighed, scratching between her ears. "I know, girl." He sighed, "I just need to get it over with."

The walk to your next-door apartment felt like it took ages. Bucky felt himself ridden with guilt when he softly tapped his knuckles on the door.

With the chain lock still in place, the door was opened a crack. "What do you want?" Your voice came out quickly, but it was laced with fear.

"I just.. wanna say hi to my new neighbor?" Bucky hesitated. That wasn't what he had planned on saying.

The door closed, and Bucky almost turned away when he heard the familiar sound of the chain dropping. The door opened and you slipped your way through. "You want to say hi?" Your asked in disbelief.

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck with his flesh arm. "Uh, yes. And, uh, apologize. I know- I know you know who I am, was. And uh, I'm not that guy anymore. It's really complicated-"

"I have time," Your response took him back. You were looking at him expectantly, your door now pushed wide open. "Are you gonna come in?"

Bucky's story was unlike any you'd ever heard. He spoke in such detail, starting from the forties to now. You'd given him some water, a soda for yourself as you sat on your couch, listening to his whole story. By the end, you felt such sympathy for the guy. He even went as far as to show you his little book (it broke your heart even more when you were told it was Steve's), amends he needed to make, movies and music he needed to see. There was a lot more to him than you expected. Much to both of your surprises, a friendship had blossomed that very day.

From that moment on, anytime Bucky would leave to go cross another name off his list, Alpine would stay at your place. You kept her company, fed her, gave her water, loved on her. Then, sometimes you found yourself missing her, so, naturally, you began going 'round Bucky's to play with her while he was home. Eventually, he began to stay around you both, watching tv or making dinner for the three of you.

Sooner or later, you had clothes at Bucky's apartment, and he kept som at yours, too. It was just friendly, of course. You just spent so much time together that it was natural to keep some belongings at each other's places.

The real change was the night you heard the loudest knocking, no, pounding, you'd ever heard on your door. The adrenaline left you jumping out of bed to go see what was happening. Throwing open the door, a disheveled, sweaty, and tearful Bucky stood, chest heaving as his hands gently grasped your face. His eyes met yours, scanning all over your face as you softly shushed him. You lead him into your apartment and laid him down in your bed. You sat next to him until he fell back asleep. He'd told you his nightmares were bad, but never this bad. It left you feeling guilty leaving him all alone in a bed he'd never been in. So, you slipped under the sheets next to him, just so he would feel a sense of comfort when he woke up.

Then that became the new normal for a few weeks. Anytime Bucky would have a nightmare, he'd slip into your bed with the key you'd given him after the second jumpscare of his fists colliding with your door.

The biggest change in your odd friendship was the night Bucky showed up at ten, before either of you had gone to sleep.

"Bucky?" You called from your spot on the couch, watching as he walked in, clad in his pajama pants and loose, grey tee-shirt. He didn't look panicked yet, you were confused why he was here so late, yet so early.

The soldier gave you a small smile, "Hi," You watched as he fumbled with his fingers, "I was wondering if I could stay? Didn't feel right bein' alone tonight." And so he stayed.

That's when the new habit began. Occasional nightmare-induced sleepovers turned into spending every night together, slowly merging to his apartment, too. You'd bring a book or your phone as Bucky would watch whatever was on tv quietly, sometimes he'd read too. Spending the night together became the new normal, you didn't know how you'd gone so far in your life without being with him like this.

Like what, though?

I mean, sure, you slept over together, he'd cook you both meals, you basically shared custody of his cat, shared apartments. But.. what? That wasn't something just friends did, but you'd never gone as far as to do anything people who were more than friends did either. So, you avoided him for approximately three days before Bucky had you cornered.

"Doll, where've you been?" Bucky asked. You could see it in his eyes, the hurt. "Been missin' you. I haven't seen you 'round, lately."

You gave him a small shrug, "Just been busy, Bucky." you answered.

Bucky knew your schedule like the back of his hand. In fact, he probably knew it better than his own. Unless something sudden or serious came up, there was no way you'd been that busy, unless..

"Why are you avoiding me?" The soldier questioned. "And don't lie to me, either. I know when you're lying."

The nerves crept up your spine as your mind raced through different answers to give him. "I've just been busy helping my aunt."

Bucky's eyebrow shot up, "Your aunt?"

"Yeah, my aunt."

"Which aunt?" Bucky questioned further, prying into your lie.

You felt your heart race, "My Aunt Leah,"

"The one who lives in Kentucky?" Bucky's face clearly showed he was not buying it.

"What are we, Buck?" You suddenly asked, feeling overwhelmed by his questions and your lie.

Bucky's face morphed into one of surprise, "What?" What did you mean, 'What are we?' You were his best friend, his everything. Wait, his everything? Bucky felt hopelessly stupid when he realized he'd never even acknowledged the fact that he could even like you.

"We sure as hell aren't just friends," You continued, "And I know for a fact that best friends don't sleep over every night, or eat every meal together, go shopping, watch movies," Your rant continued as you grilled into Bucky. "And I don't think I can keep going unless I'm yours,"

Your words had Bucky breathless, "Doll, 'course you're mine." Like a twist of fate, his words now held you breathless as you stared at the man, wide eyed. "I'm the stupid one, I should've made my intentions more clear from when I first started feeling more."

With a shake of your head, you gave Bucky a small smile, "You're not stupid, Buck."

"You wanna go get dinner tonight?" Bucky asked, "Officially as my girl, my treat."

A smile gleamed on your face, "I'd love nothing more."

[j4desblurbs]

i needed “kisses on the nose” from the prompt list with logan, like, yesterday

give me my soft man!!

LOVE’S PERFECT ACHE

yes i got the title from a hozier song

summary: logan gets mad at you, and makes it up to you.

warnings: i made this angsty but other than that, no warnings

word count: 1.3k

logan had been acting cold ever since lunch.

curt responses, no petnames, a bit more sarcasm than he would usually use for you. all of these things pointed to something that was your fault.

no matter how much you wracked your brain, you couldn’t think of anything you’d done to make him angry.

it’s not until he walks into your shared room a couple hours later that you find the answer.

“wanna tell me what that was back there?” he says, causing you to look up from your book.

“what?” your eyebrows furrow. what on earth is he talking about?

“with scott. at lunch. talking to him like that?”

you feel like you’ve missed a chapter.

“logan,” you huff out his name with a confused laugh. “what are you talking about?”

“hand on his arm like that? laughing your ass off? what’d he say that was so damn funny, hm?” logan seethes.

you think back to your interaction with scott earlier in the day. it was just like any other time the two of you have spent time together. you weren’t entirely sure what was so alarming about enjoying the company of your friend and teammate.

but then you remembered logan has a temperament, an extreme distaste of scott, and a jealous streak like nobody’s business.

“logan,” you sigh. “it wasn’t like that at all. i was just laughing at a joke he made.”

he scoffs, his tone condescending. “yeah, right.”

you bristle at that. he almost never talks down to you like this. suddenly, a pocket of anger bubbles into your chest. before you know it, you hear yourself saying:

“funny, i never acted like this while you flirted with jean.”

logan stops cold.

“i never flirted with jean.” he says, plain and simple.

you scoff. if there was anything you hated, it was being treated like you were dumb.

“don’t,” you warn. “don’t do that.”

“do what, sugar?” his tone is condescending, demeaning. it brings the beginning of tears to your eyes.

“don’t pretend like i don’t know.” you blink, trying to hold back your tears, but one falls and makes its way down your cheek.

logan falters. he hadn’t meant to make you cry.

“honey-“ he tries, but you brush him off by holding up your hand without another word.

it’s only after you make it to the first empty room you find that you allow yourself to break down. ———————————————————————————

for the rest of the day, logan isolates himself, staying in your room as the hours tick by.

he was never the best at communicating.

by all means, he was trying. he really was, but it was just so goddamn hard sometimes. he could never get the words right and often ended up causing even more damage to whatever situation he’d fucked up in the first place.

he knew you weren’t doing anything with scott, of course he did. but some part of him deep inside couldn’t help but think that he wasn’t enough for you, or someone bad for you. so, when his worst fear was even remotely realized, he lashed out in ugly ways.

logan lets out a sigh. why’d he have to fuck this up? he had never meant to make you cry. it was the last thing he’d ever want. all he’s ever wanted was to give you the love you deserve. to protect you. never to hurt you.

and he couldn’t even do that.

he gets up, putting out his cigar. it was about time he stopped wallowing in his self pity and started looking for you so he could apologize.

he does end up finding you, in a small room off the gym. logan’s heart cracks when he sees you, curled up against the corner, knees to your chest, eyes red.

what had he done?

he says your name, and his chest tightens even more when you visibly bristle at the sound of his voice. the sight’s almost enough to bring tears to his eyes.

logan strides over, kneeling next to you. his hand is warm and strong when he places it on your back, but your body still tenses when you feel his touch.

“have you been here the whole time, bub?” his voice is soft, his familiar scent of tobacco and leather and pine enveloping you and making you almost give in and bury yourself in his arms.

almost.

you give him an almost imperceptible nod of your head, not wanting to speak just yet.

really, you didn’t trust yourself to not burst into tears the second you tried.

he sighs, shifting his position so that he’s in front of you. his hand gently pulls your chin up to make you look at him, his thumb wiping away the tear tracks down your face.

seeing how red your eyes are makes his heart do a slow twist in his chest. he had done this to you. and he wasn’t sure he knew how to fix it.

“i’m sorry.” his voice is quiet, gravelly. “i didn’t mean any of it, honey.”

you finally force yourself to meet his eyes, blinking slowly. he was lying. you knew it, could feel it.

logan rarely said anything he didn’t truly mean.

“i know you did. i know you meant it.” you say, the weak, broken tone of your voice hurting him even more.

“i want to explain. believe me. but i just can’t put what i’m feeling…..together. into words.” logan looks down, his mind racing. he was never good at expressing his feelings, and he was most certainly going to fuck it up if he did it without thinking it out.

“maybe you could try.” your voice, low and cracking slightly from lack of use, breaks him out of his thoughts.

he lets out a soft breath, unsure of how to explain himself. he owes it to you to try. to have what might possibly be the world’s most uncomfortable conversation if it meant that you didn’t loathe him like you did right now. for everything you do for him, it’s the very least he can do for you.

“you mean a lot to me, darlin. a lot more than it might seem. so when i see you talking to another man, happy with another man,” he trails off, a lump forming in his throat. “it hurts me. because every day i doubt that i’m the right one for you. every day i’m terrified that you’ll get tired of me, of us, and leave.”

as he talks, you slowly start to open up, pulling your knees away from your chest and wiping the remnants of your tears away from your face. your hands find his face, cupping his cheeks as you get onto your knees to reach him.

“logan.” your tone is firm. “why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

seeing the man you love, normally so tough and headstrong, almost curl into himself is a strange sight to stomach. logan seems small like this, not because of the way he’s crouched in front of you, but because of the palpability of his fear.

he clears his throat before he speaks, his voice soft. “i didn’t know how to say it.”

his hands come to rest on your waist, pulling you against him into a hug. he rests his chin on the crown of your head, one palm sliding up to rest on your back.

as you reciprocate the hug, you feel the tension melt away from his body, his arms tightening slightly around you as the thought clicks in his head: you still wanted him.

“i’m sorry, baby.” logan whispers into your hair. “i’m so sorry.” he pulls you away from him a little, kissing your forehead, then your cheeks, and finally your nose, resting his forehead against yours afterward.

you close the gap, pressing your lips to his, tasting faintly of tobacco and coffee. he kisses you back with equal gentleness. it’s a sweet, soft kiss that you both melt into.

you relish in the fact that you’ll have many more kisses just like these.

[olderthannetfic]

Hi OTNF and everyone,

I am finding that it's harder and harder and harder to get into anything - book, show, movie... most things seem, you know, to just not be doing it for me, be it fanfic or original stuff.

In part, I think, it's a general restlessness and that it's become harder to give anything enough time to get into the stories, the characters, the settings, the narrative voices... I guess you can call it attention deficit on my part, just a need for stories to deliver those sweet, sweet hits quickly, but they're not.

I'm not currently ficcing but I did for years (might again in the future, who knows), and it's made reading, specifically, harder. It's like I've become more aware of what goes on behind the scene, I guess? I feel like I can see the writer giving up on a sentence, skipping a scene because fuck this, trying hard to not repeat a word although it's the only one that fits, etc.

Or maybe it's just the *everything* around us in the world that is weighing on me too much? I could say it's adult life, but then again I have more free time than most (and boy do I need hours of doing nothing to survive the other hours), and no family/partner (all that would put even more pressure on me): what is wrong, to make everything so UGHHH?

I feel like I'm stuck in a rut with a brain moaning feed me, feeeed me, and whatever I try to give it, it spits everything out. (Yes, I've tried hobbies, and nothing sticks there either. I've never really found rewards or satisfaction there, so...)

Decades ago as a kid, I was a voracious reader, although studying literature took the pleasure of it away from me. It took time and discovering fanfic that brought me back to reading, but at the time the internet was starting to be a thing, too, and it can't have helped the attention thing. AFAIK I'm not ADHD but then again, I couldn't get a proper diagnosis (the therapists I saw were either dismissive or just about The Talking, which was pointless for me).

I just wonder how it all disappeared, you know? Sometimes I find something that catches my attention for a while - a book (but I read quite quickly when motivated), a fandom... but it's been a while now, and it's just so frustrating! When is it going to come back? Will it ever? *gulp*

I know that books were escapism when I was a child, and then fandom was escapism, but at the moment I find myself grabbing at air and my empty hands are mocking me. Give me my escapism baaaaack!

So, uh. Anyone here with me?

--

Yes.

I felt like that during part of lockdown. Anhedonia is common in those kinds of circumstances.

Getting your mojo back is certainly possible, but you may need to go see a professional about depression and have some chemical assistance (yes, even if you don't feel sad per se), or you may need to change your lifestyle to one that doesn't have the thing causing you to need eleventy billion hours of downtime.

Aside from serious interventions like that, you can consider a social media detox. Remove every source of doomscrolling and time wasting of that type. When the attention span is zero and nothing brings joy, the tiny and useless hits from finishing a game of solitaire or seeing one more instagram post become very attractive. This is a trap. It will suck what little energy and joy you have and make your muscles flabby for the work of getting into an in-depth book/hobby/experience.

I know the feeling of being able to see how the sausage is made, but... well... first, being in a better mental state will make that matter less, and second, reading prose that is more competent will make that less of an issue. A lot of mainstream tradpub genre fiction is not, in my opinion, very well written these days. Obviously, people are still enjoying it, and that's fine, but if you're noticing writers fumbling around, it might be time to check out some literary fiction or some other category known more for prose quality than anything else.

It's also important to have some structure and some things to look forward to. Even if you feel tired, overwhelmed, and busy, sometimes, the answer is to do more... But it must be things that are distinct and significant and that get you off of the couch, like going to one museum every weekend.

I saw some advice once about this kind of thing that phrased it as "One big adventure; one small adventure."

Every week, you should have those two things to look forward to that matter. Check out a new coffee shop. That could be the small one. Go to an event: a gallery opening, a concert, whatever.

Physical exercise and doing some things that aren't as verbal and conscious thought-involving is important too. Painting is a better hobby for zoning out than writing is. Taking long walks in nature is good for most people.

--

The kind of intense, obsessive love I had for reading as a child and that I sometimes have for fandom requires a lot of attention and some time. It's escapist, but that masks how much work it actually was. It didn't feel like work only because we were in training.

If you've filled your brain and your day up with a thousand petty annoyances or minor and useless attempts to feel something, you won't have the capacity for those deeper things.

Because you are already at a point that's equivalent to a bad sprained ankle, trying to get back to running right now won't work. You have to stay off of the ankle for a bit, then build your strength and stamina back up.

[castellanapologist]

“Bless me Father for I have sinned.”

Luke sat up a little straighter on his side of the confessional, ears perking up at the voice. He recognized it, for it haunted his every waking moment and every dream. The girl who had been sitting in the front pews every Sunday for the last two months. Y/N. He cleared his throat.

“How long has it been since your last confession, my child?” He asks, fingers rubbing at his rosary.

“It has been quite a while Father, I haven’t been in two months. I’ve been so ashamed.” Y/N answers. Luke feels his chest tighten and his eyes strained to see her through the panelling. To no avail, but he pictured her beautiful face distorted in sadness.

“It’s quite alright my child, all that matters is that you’re here now” He soothes. “What sins have you come to confess?”

There’s a beat of silence before she intakes a breath and begins. “I…I have been lustful Father. Having sinful thoughts of a man I cannot have.”

Luke feels the air knock out of him. Lust? A man she cannot have? He felt a heavy jealousy weigh on his heart, but he swallows it down in favor of answering her.

“We all lust for things we cannot have sometimes. It is a sinner's nature.” He pauses before pressing further. “Is this man married?”

This time the silence stretches, and he feels himself getting antsy. His mind floods with possibilities of who it could be. He had seen her talking with couples after Mass before, could it be any of them? He wracks his brain for any man he’s seen her be alone with but comes up empty.

“Not in the traditional sense Father. He…he is married to the church.” She whispers. Luke stills, mind racing with her confession. He speaks slowly as if not to scare her off.

“As in…a priest?”

The air is thick with tension as he awaits her answer. He feels his heart thumping wildly against his chest as his fingers work his rosary over and over. Y/N sniffles before she speaks again.

“Yes. The new priest that’s recently come to our church. I didn’t mean for it to happen, Father!”

Luke feels himself shudder at the revelation that his waking torment has also been haunted by him. The confessional booth suddenly feels too small and cramped.

“What sinful thoughts have you been having of him?” He asks, his voice hoarse. Another beat of silence passes before Y/N continues.

“I’ve dreamt of him k…kissing me” She stutters before continuing. “Of his hands roaming my body and even…” She trails off. Luke inhales deeply.

“Continue.” He demands, voice rough with desire. “Confess your sins.”

“I want him to bend me over the altar” Y/N breathes. “I’ve dreamt of it for so long, even during Mass all I think about is him taking me. I even make sure he’s the one to feed me the body of Christ just to feel his fingers on my tongue.”

Luke feels his dick jump in his pants and he barely surpesses a groan. The rosary shakes in his hand as he processes what she says, the mental images burning in his brain. She describes exactly what he had been dreaming. How he would press the communion onto her tongue with a bit more force just to feel her. Luke takes a shuddering breath as he speaks again.

“It’s alright my child. Lust consumes us all. You just need to fight against it. Pray twenty Hail Marys and Our Fathers then the rosary every night for a week. Do you understand?” Luke’s voice is low, his eyes fixated on her silhouette. He sees her nod before speaking up.

“Yes Father.”

“Go in Peace.”

“Thanks be to God”

As soon as she exits the confessional booth he drops his head into his hands. His length twitches in the confines of his slacks, precum leaking onto his thigh. He tries to breathe deep but only conjures up images of fucking into that temptress in front of the whole church. Fuck. He was so fucked.

Over the next week, he watches as Y/N comes in to pray. He feels like an animal stalking his prey yet simultaneously the prey being stalked. He tries not to notice her heated gaze while he walks around the church. If he ignores this temptation and prays hard enough he knows he can get past it. But a small dark part of him knows he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to move past it. He wants to take her, ravage her. Wants to hear her scream his name while he eats her out in the pews or on the altar.

Sunday is agonizing. Father Michael wanted him to lead service ‘as a way to connect with the youth’. Which meant he was front and center for communion. Luke tried to avoid Y/N’s gaze, seeing her beeline to his line made his dick jump. She kept her head down until she was in front of him. Like usual, she opened her mouth for the body. He thanked the Lord his robes concealed his erection, twitching pitifully as he pressed the cracker on her tongue. Her saliva coated his fingers and just as he was about to withdraw, her lips closed around them. His breath caught as she slowly pulled away, lipstick staining his skin. He thanked God again she was the last in line.

For the rest of Mass, his head swam with desire and shame. What kind of priest was he to be leaking precum while leading his church in prayer? To fist his cock every night thinking of a member from his congregation? He had to put a stop to this. After Mass, he thanked every member individually for coming. As usual, Y/N was the last to leave. When she made her way to him, his dick jolted. The lipstick stain burned his fingers as she glanced down at it.

“Thank you for coming,” Luke said, his voice hoarse. He tried to think of a way to get her in his office. “Did you enjoy the service?”

“Very much so” She breathes. Their eye contact seems to stretch on for hours, the world melting away. He coughs, turning his head away as he felt shame flush his neck.

“Would-” He coughs again to clear his throat. “Would you have spare time for a prayer?”

She studies him for a moment before nodding, dropping her eyes to the floor. “I’m all yours Father.” He swears she purrs his title. Nodding, he leads the way to his office. Like always, he does the sign of the cross at the crucifix on his door, watching Y/N do the same. She sits in the plush chair across from his, the leather squeaking from disuse. Luke takes a deep breath, her perfume invading every sense and making him dizzy.

“Wait here.” He croaks before stepping into the side room he uses for his robes. He quickly sheds the garment, hanging it on the rack. The mirror seems to mock him. There he stood, curls messy and cheeks flushed like some hormonal high school boy. He curses himself, knowing the lust is merely a test. Fixing his clerical collar, he swings open the door to greet her again.

“Thank you for meeting with me.” He says. “I’ve seen you in the church more often. I thought you might want some guidance in prayer.”

Her eyes flicker with slight embarrassment before nodding. “Yes. Any prayer with you is surely to help me on my journey.”

Luke can’t help but feel his ego swell as he sits in his desk chair. His fingers drum on the mahogany as he studies her. He knows what she desires, the sins she wants to commit. But how does he help her resist when he barely can?

“What do you need me to help with? What weighs so heavy on your soul?”

Y/N meets his gaze again, this time smoldering. Luke feels his throat close at the sight.

“Lust, Father.”

It feels like all the air is sucked out of the room when she says, no, purrs those two words. He takes a big inhale, his fingers stopping.

“Right.” Luke croaks. “It’s a normal sin to have.”

“Do you struggle with it Father?”

His cock lurches against his slacks. Nodding slowly, he speaks.

“Yes.”

His confession hangs in the air. The tension palpable in the room. After discreetly adjusting himself, he stands and rounds the desk to stand in front of her. She gazes up at him, eyes swimming with desire. His hand finds purchase on her shoulder, thumb rubbing in a circle.

“The Lord forgives all.” He breathes. To her or himself he does not know. Sliding his hand from her shoulder to her cheek, thumb still caressing her skin. She turns into his palm, kissing it softly while maintaining her eye contact. His control snaps. Surging down, he captures her lips in a bruising kiss. She wraps her arms around him, moaning into his mouth. Their mouths move passionately, deepening by the second. Luke’s hands hoist her onto his desk, scattering his sermons onto the ground.

Her tongue swipes along his lips and he eagerly parted for her. She licks into his mouth greedily as he lays her fully down on the desk. His hands explore her body with reverence, hiking up her dress to expose her creamy thighs. Luke barely can bring himself to pull away but does so anyway, wanting to watch her fall apart. His fingers press against her clit through her panties, watching her eyes roll back and her back arch.

Hooking his fingers against the band of her underwear he yanks them down, desperate to feel her wetness against his palm. He groans feeling her heat, slick coating his fingers just from skimming over her slit. Y/N moans, hips bucking to get more friction. Luke tsks and holds her down.

“Greed is a sin” Luke scolds, his thumb pressing against her throbbing clit. Y/N lets out a choked moan, hands wrapping around his wrist. “You’ll take what I give you.”

With no hesitation, he slips his middle finger into her wet heat growling as he feels her tightness. His hips grind against his desk as he fingers her. One finger turns into two as he leans down to mark her neck. Y/N clamps around him, moaning louder as his teeth sunk into her. Lukes hips stutter as he imagines her around his cock. Unable to take it anymore, he hastily unbuckles his slacks while he fingers her. Panting with relief as his dick springs free.

He adds a third finger, grinding his cock on her thigh. Y/N squirms under his hold, moaning as she gets closer to cumming. His other hand comes to rub at her clit, desperate to see her finish. It only takes a few tight circles before she seized up, pussy clamping down on his fingers as she gushed. He moans watching her soak his hand, rubbing her through her orgasm. Even as it gets too much for her he can’t stop, dragging her hips to the edge of the desk as he drops to his knees. His tongue licks up her arousal, mouth worshipping her as if she herself were God.

Y/N tries to push him away; overstimulated but he doesn’t allow it. His hands hold down her bucking hips, nose rubbing against her clit as he tongue-fucks her hole. He needs to make her cum again. More than he needs to breathe. He doubles down when her thighs squeeze around his head. Y/N’s hand tug at his curls, moaning his name so loud he's almost scared someone will hear. But he doesn’t want to shut her up; her voice rivaling an angels. Finally, finally she cums again, soaking his face. He moans against her, licking up her slick again before pulling away.

Standing, Luke's chest heaves as he stares down at her. She looked like an angel, face glowing as she gasped for breath. His hands wrap around his cock as he jerks himself off to how beautiful she looked. Even as she desperately tries to breathe, her legs spread for her priest. Luke groans deeply, stepping closer to coat his tip in her wetness. Eyes rolling back as he bumps against her clit.

“Fuck me Father Luke. Make a sinner holy” Y/N moans, reaching for him. He leans down to capture her lips in a searing kiss, letting her taste herself. His mind swims in conflict, but as Y/N guides his tip to press against her hole, it goes blank. Luke moans against her mouth as he slowly pushes in. He almost collapses on top of her as her tight heat envelops him. He braces himself on his elbows as he finally hits halfway. Y/N moans as her legs lock around him.

Slowly, so slowly, he bottoms out. Grinding his pelvic bone against her clit, he wills his orgasm back. He can’t let it end here. Pulling back, he pants as she yanks at his hair before he slams back in. His hips set a brutal pace, her wetness making lewd noises as he fucks her. He feels addicted, feeling like he’ll die if he ever stops fucking her. Y/N clenches around him and his hips stutter.

“Such a fucking temptress. Seducing your priest. Telling me how badly you wanted to be fucked at the altar, sucking my fucking fingers in Mass” Luke growls against her mouth as he fucks her harder. Y/N scratches at the back of his shirt, practically tearing through it. He watches as her eyes roll back in revelation she had confessed to him.

“It was you-?” Shes cut off by a moan as he fucks deeper into her. He huffed a laugh, twitching inside her.

“Thank God it was. Been dreaming of this cunt for months” He groans, hiking her leg up to get deeper. His pace gets impossibly faster, chasing his high. His hand reaches in between them to rub her clit, needing to see her fall apart one last time. Y/N convulses on his cock, milking him as she cums for the last time. Luke's hips stutter as he feels release wash over him, slamming into her one last time to cum as deep as he could. He collapses on top of her, both of them struggling for breath.

“I’m guessing this warrants some prayer” Y/N teases. Luke huffs a laugh, squeezing her hips.

“Come by again tomorrow, we can pray together”

[mochinomnoms]

Gremlin ass yuu who has one of those realistic ass dreams that them and jade actually got together and they still believe when they wake up, so naturally, like a normal person, they see jade and go up to hug him and give him a little kiss on the neck only to get body slammed with J-Brain and everyone else around them is horrified as they realize that they and jade are not in fact, dating

🦩

(screaming and pounding on the floor THAT'S CUTE)

You woke up with a dry mouth and a sore back. Trying to stretch your legs out made a sharp pain run up your leg and lower back.

Ugh, Jade. You were too rough last night…

Turning around to confront said man, you were surprised to see the empty bedside next to you. Like no one had slept there in the first place.

Even more surprising, you were in your room at Ramshackle instead of Jade's dorm room in Octavinelle. He'd been having you stay over more often since he didn't need to share a room with Floyd anymore.

“What the fu…Did he take me back?” You groaned, getting up and out of bed, wincing at the ache in your legs and lower waist. “Why the hell? Ugh, Jaaaade.”

You were still weary eyed as you finally made your way down the steps into the main hallway, turning into the kitchen to get something to drink.

Mmm, maybe an energy drink, that tastes good with lavender right?

You blinked in surprise at Azul, Jade, and Floyd, along with a few other Octavinelle students, were in the hallway entrance and kitchen area. They were carrying some bags of food and paperwork.

It was then you remembered that you agreed to let Azul sell snacks and drink from Mostro Lounge for your carvinal themed haunted house. They were bringing the items to have them ready to go before the gates open this week for the Halloween festivities.

Oh yeah, that must be why Jade brought me back. He's always thoughtful, isn't he.

You were still half asleep when the trio noticed you, waving politely. Though Jade was having his usual excitable thoughts. Something about your pajamas and sleepy face being cute.

Don't you see me in pjs all the time? Silly.

“Good morning, Prefect, how are you?” Azul starting gesturing to the students putting the food products away. “As you see, we've come to help you and your dorm get set up, as agreed.”

“Mm, Shrimpy looks real tired, don't they Jade?” Floyd nudged his brother with his elbow, watching as you walked up to them.

“They do, perhaps they went to bed rather la—”

Jade stopped mid-sentence, shocked into silence as you wrapped your arms around his back, nuzzling into his neck.

“Mmh, sounds good…just put the stuff…wherever.” You tilted your head up to press a kiss against his neck, feeling the way he swallowed as you did.

“Mornin' Jade…you left me…” You tightened your hold on him, though he didn't return your embrace. “…Jade?”

You were just now noticing just how quiet everything had gotten. There was no movement, no sounds, you couldn't even hear anyone's thoughts.

You moved a bit away from Jade to look at everyone with confusion. They were all staring at you, some with mild horror, some with confusion like yours, and Floyd in particular looked ecstatic, eyes darting between you and Jade like he was waiting for sometime to happen.

Azul just gave you a questioning stare as he raised his eyebrow.

“Should we...know something?”

“Whaddya mean?” you mumbled, resting your head against Jade's chest. His heartbeat was going fast, like it was trying to burst out his case.

“When did you two become a thing?” Floyd cooed, giggling as he rocked on his heels.

“You rubbed your eyes again, more alert now as you started answering, We've been together for a ye—”

The sudden feeling of Jade's arms tightly wrapping around your back, and the sudden influx of his thoughts hitting you like a train, brought you back to reality.

DARLING! MY SWEET PEARL! I JUST KNEW THAT YOU LOVED ME BACK!

His grip on you tightened as the sleep suddenly vanished from your body.

“We're together? News to me, my dear.”

Kiss me again, my pearl! You'll let me, won't you? After all, you did it first~

The feeling of Jade's body moving, leaning down to return the favor you gave him, sent the dear of God in you.

“Wait, wait WAIT WAIT!” You shrieked as you shoved Jade away, collapsing backwards as you crawled away. “DREAM! IT WAS A DREAM I HAD A DREAM!”

You felt your entire body go hot, as Floyd started cackling his lungs out. Azul was still in the kitchen, holding his hand to his mouth, hiding his own laughter.

Even Jade looked mildly amused, though you could hear the disappointment in his thoughts.

Ah, I see. How tragic. Though…

Jade's smile grew slightly, as he gave you a sly wink.

Might as well make use of this.

“A dream? Was it a pleasant one?” Jade tilted his head as he watched you grow more flustered with glee. “It must have been, if you were so ready to be affectionate with me. Would you like to recall it for me?”

The contents of your dream were coming back to you like a tidal wave, hot breaths and clothes flying off flashing through your mind as you remembered just how pleasant that dream was.

“NO!” You scrambled up the staircase again on your hands and knees, like a spooked cat, ignoring the cackles coming from behind you.

Oh goood, I'm never living this down.

[kpop---scenarios]

Whispers Of The Night (4)

Pairing: Stray Kids x Reader

Genre: Vampire! Au, College! Au

Warning: Not much, next chapter will be smut. This is an 18+ ONLY story; MDNI

Summary: You just want to live a happy life, but currently, that wasn't happening. It's not until you meet 8 strangers who turn your life upside down and you discover what they are.

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: as always, thank you @skzdust for putting up with me sending you paragraphs all the time and giving input. I'd be lost without you!

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS

Taglist: @steddie-steddie @hongtyong @purple-bell @deadpool15 @purplelady85

Everything Taglist: @wife2straykidss @piscesrising01 @baby-stay92 @kisses-too-the-moon

@dwaekkiiracha @silly250 @rylea08 @imperfectlyperfectprincess1

@satosugu4l @gabriellamarie @tsunderelino @iovecb97 @1810cl @lordmaahes-nsc @sailorkoss @minh0scat @pixie0627 @50-husbands @jinnies-muse

@yaorzu-blog @anskiiz @joyofbebbanburg @number1jeonginstan

@skzooluvr @jisunglyricist @ambersnowxxx @ayyonoona

@31maze13 @stay-tiny-things @thegingerthatwaited

@hoesheez @stayatinykatsy @catlove83 @jeonginstulip

@kaleigh-2002 @honeycombbaybee @hyuneyeon @flylis

@kpop-choco @chloe-elise-2000 @eastjonowhere @stephanieeeyang

@nightmarenyxx @0325tiny

“I was…there…then…Jeongin…” you mumble to yourself, pacing around your room. “And then I was here. Ugh!” You groan, throwing your hands up in the air. You distinctly remembered standing on the front porch with Jeongin, staring into his eyes, but why were you staring into his eyes? What happened after? How can you not remember the rest of the night? Did you black out? Can weed even make you blackout? No, you were sure that wasn't even a possible thing.

There was only one thing you could possibly do. Confront Jeongin. You skipped getting dressed, leaving your room in your sleep shorts and tank top, practically stomping down the stairs.

“Jeongin!” You yell, stopping in the kitchen. You look around, seeing him standing in the living room, alone, like a deer in headlights. “You!” You yell, stomping towards him.

“Yes?” He asks, smiling sweetly.

“What did you do to me last night?” You asked.

“What are you talking about?” He chuckles.

“We were standing on the porch, I remember staring into your eyes… then I woke up in my bed this morning.” You say, crossing your arms.

“Yeah? You were talking to me, absolute gibberish by the way, and then you just, like, passed out.” He explains. “So I took you upstairs and put you to bed.” He says, shrugging his shoulders.

“I don't remember that.” You say.

“You were pretty high.” He laughs.

You never lost your memory from smoking weed, but to be fair it had been quite a while since you'd smoked so maybe it was because your body wasn't used to it anymore.

“Huh.” You murmur. You weren't sure if he believed him, but you'd accept it, for now. “Okay. Thanks.” You finish, turning around to walk away.

You headed back upstairs to get dressed for the day, needing to get to the library to study for your upcoming test. You needed the quiet. You had tried to study at the house the other day, but watching those 8 men walk around the house, sometimes shirtless, was extremely distracting.

Thankfully, there weren't many people in the library. You picked a table out of the way, setting up your laptop. You pulled out your headphones, your phone and your textbook, ready to get to work. You were going to fail this exam, you just knew it. You desperately needed to study. And you tried. But your brain could not stop racing about the men who you lived with. There was something off about them, their pale skin, piercing eyes, extreme strength. Not to mention they're much more rowdy at night time, and the fact that you had never seen them eat a single thing. Your mind immediately goes to vampires, but that couldn't be right. There's no way that vampires could be a thing right now and no one was talking about it.

With your brain spinning, you closed the empty Google docs tab, and instead opened up Google. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard as you heavily debated on whether or not you should actually type the word into the search engine. You felt stupid thinking that they could be vampires, but that was the only plausible explanation for the weirdness that was in that house. Taking a deep breath, you typed it in, and more information that you expected popped up within seconds. You clicked the first link, scanning the page, but it didn't give you much. You scrolled through a few other pages but there was nothing that hadn't been talked about before, until, you were just about to exit the page you were on when a single word caught your eye.

Compulsion.

Just as you were about to read more, a familiar voice calls out to you. “Y/N. Why are you reading about vampires?” He says. You quickly close your laptop, turning around to see Mark standing there.

“What do you want?” You ask, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Why are you googling vampires?” He asks, pulling a chair out from the table to sit with you.

“Why are you sitting at my table? And why do you care?” You sigh.

“Because I love you. And I want to get you back. So I figured I'd take interest in your interests.” He grins.

“It's a little too late for that, Mark. I'm going to tell you right now, I won't ever be getting back together with you.” You laugh. “That's so far off the table, it's burning in hell. Now go away.”

“Y/N, come on.” He sighs. “There has to be something I can do to make you trust me again.”

“There's nothing you can do. I don't want you anymore. I'm not sure why you can't get that through your thick fucking skull.” You half yell. You can hear people turning in their chairs to look at you. You let out a breath, trying to calm yourself down. “Look, Mark. We tried, and it didn't work out. You're not ready for a relationship because you can't be faithful. So stop it and leave me alone.” You finish, starting to pack up your belongings.

Mark mutters swear words under his breath. “Y/N..” He starts. You ignore him, continuing to finish packing your things. “Y/N, stop.” He says. “Fuck, I asked you to stop.” He shouts, grabbing your arm. You stare at him, your eyes darting between his hand on your arm and him.

Before you can tell him to release you, you feel someone standing beside you. You look up, seeing Hyunjin standing there, clenching his jaw. “If you want to keep that arm, you better fucking let go of her.” He snaps.

“Oh yeah? She's my girlfriend, I can do whatever the fuck I want.” Mark says, standing up, his hand still on your arm.

Hyunjin laughs. “She's not your girlfriend. You fucked that up, so like I said. Let go of her, before you're down a girlfriend and a fucking arm.”

“Am I supposed to be scared of you, pretty boy?” Mark laughs, looking between you and Hyunjin.

“If I were you..” Hyunjin begins in a whisper. “I'd be fucking petrified.”

“Such bullshit.” Mark grunts, letting go of your arm. “I'll be back!” He yells, pointing to you before walking off.

“Thanks.” You say to Hyunjin, grabbing your bag.

“Can I take you home?” He asks.

You wanted to say yes, but you didn't want to accidentally blurt out what you were thinking or what you had been researching. Not until you read everything you could possibly find, and not until you felt sure of your findings. You can't accuse people of being vampires and not have the information to back up your claims. What if they laughed at you because it wasn't true? So embarrassing.

You contemplated the world you lived in on your way home. Could you really live in a world where vampires exist and no one knows about them? That's one part that was mind boggling to you. Did other supernatural creatures also exist? Werewolves? Mermaids? Your mind was racing with all sorts of thoughts, you hadn't realized that you already had made it home. You stood outside the door, part of you felt a little scared to go inside

but the other part of you didn't care. They were kind to you, they housed you, fed you. They took care of you and protected you. None of them had ever given you a reason not to trust them but you were just so curious about what they were hiding. It had to be that.

You walked into the quiet house, they must all be out. You walk through the living room, stopping in front of a door you've passed countless times but never had been through. You were always curious about what was in the room. You were all alone, so why not? You place your hand on the knob, slowly turning it to open. You pull the door, when suddenly there's a hand on the door, slamming it shut. You jump back, looking at Minho, who stands there, looking angry.

“No.” He deadpans.

“Oh. Is that…” you trail off.

“It's just off limits.” he says.

“I didn't know.” You murmur.

“Now you do.” He smiles, moving his hand and walking away.

You swore no one was here. He came out of nowhere. You take your things, going back upstairs to your room. Settling down on your bed, you pull out your laptop, the page loading to the one you were on before Mark so rudely interrupted you.

“Compulsion” you read. “the ability of vampires to control the minds of others, often through eye contact. Compelled beings typically follow the vampire's instructions, which can include erasing memories, developing new skills, or creating new personalities.”

You sit back. Staring at the wall. Breathing. “Erasing memories.” You whisper to yourself. Was that what Jeongin did to you? Did he erase your memory of that night? Did something happen that could have outed him? You turned your computer around, laying down on your stomach, determined to do more research on the subject as a whole. Hours pass as you click link, after link, after link. Finally you ended up on a blog page called “Just Vampire Things.” The entire thing was clearly not a legit page, it was cutesy, colorful and honestly not very vampirey. You were giggling at the photos as you scrolled down, now more so just enjoying the obvious photoshopped pictures, until you got to the writing.

“How to kill a vampire.” You whisper. “What the…” you pause, reading a little more. “This page is for vampire hunters, learning how to kill vampires. First you need a sharp oak steak.” You rolled your eyes and as you were about to close the page, your bedroom door burst open, with Changbin skipping into your room.

“How to kill a…” he trails off. He looks at you, worriedly before cracking a big smile. “Are you reading Just Vampire Things?” He laughs. You close your laptop.

“What do you need, world's worst barista?” You ask.

He puts his hand over his heart. “Ouch.” He hisses. “You hurt me. Right there, y/n.” He says, patting his chest. “A few of us have to go out, but there's stuff in the fridge for dinner. Help yourself to whatever.” He says, walking out of your room. You crawl off your bed, heading down into the kitchen quietly. You had thought they all left, but it wasn't until you heard whispers in the living room did you realize that you weren't alone.

“I don't know, Chan.” You hear Jeongin sigh. “I feel like shit. I lied to her, and I don't like it. I don't want her to be mad at me. She saw the blood around my mouth… I panicked.” He says.

“Listen, it will all come out in time. But she just got here. We can't bombard her with all this information right off the bat. She'll run so fucking fast. And that's the last thing any of us want, right?” Chan says.

“No.” Jeongin sighs. “None of us want her to leave.”

“We'll tell her everything. Okay? Just be patient. I gotta go meet the others, just stick to the plan for now.” Chan finishes. You hear the front door closed, and Jeongin letting out a sigh of relief. You don't hear anything else. You walk to the living room quietly, looking around. Jeongin isn't there. Your eyes land on the door again. Them telling you it's off limits only makes you want to go down there even more. You look around one more time, double checking to make sure that he wasn't around. Once you felt like it was safe you quickly and quietly wrapped your hand around the door knob, slowly turning it, pulling it open. You see a set of stairs, leading down into the dark. A strong metallic smell hits your nose, making you nauseous. Your stomach twists as you lift your leg, preparing to take the first step down into the dark. Before you can, you're pushed out of the way, and the door is slammed shut. Jeongin grabs your shoulders, pushing you against the door.

“I thought you were told his room was off limits?” He breathes.

“I didn't think anyone was home.” You whisper.

“You're never here alone, y/n.” He says. “When we tell you something, it's because we're protecting you.”

“Were you protecting me when you compelled me?” You blurt out. Jeongin's eyes go wide.

“I don't know what you're talking about.” He says.

“Don’t lie to me.” You hiss, avoiding eye contact. “I heard you talking to Chan. All of you are hiding something from me and I know what it is.” You say.

“Y/N, you need to stop. You don't know what you're talking about.” Jeongin says. “Look at me.”

“No.” You say, looking away.

“Y/N, look at me.” He says again.

This time you don't answer. But you also don't look at him.

“You're going to do it again.” You finally whisper.

Jeongin grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. “I'm sorry.” He whispers. “There's things we need to talk about of course. And that's one of them. But I swear to you, it won't happen again.” He says.

You look him in the eyes, seeing the sincerity in them. Your eyes scan his face, your body heats up. Fuck. You want him. You know you shouldn't but how could you not? Your mouth parts slightly as you stare into his eyes.

He takes a deep breath. Smirking slightly before he leans forward. He looks to you for approval, you nod your head and he crashes his lips to yours. You've wanted this, from any of them since the day you met them. He slips his tongue into your mouth, while effortlessly lifting you to wrap your legs around his waist. He carries you up the stairs, to what you can only assume is his room, that's never used, never once breaking the kiss. He stands at the foot of his bed, gently tossing you down. You look up at him, biting your lip, while he stares down at you.

“You sure you want this baby girl?” He asks.

You grin as you nod your head.

“Fuck, yes.”

[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

My dear lgbt+ kids, 

I believe that one of the best things you can do for your mental wellbeing is to just give yourself things to look forward to. 

Your mind may go to expensive purchases or life changing experiences now, these bucket list items like “a month long international vacation” or “getting my own car” (or even something like “buying a whole new wardrobe and re-inventing myself after I come out” or “making queer friends once I graduated and moved out and cut my parents out of my life”) - but that’s not what I am talking about right now. In fact, for our purposes here it’s better if it’s not something like that! 

Big goals and long-term dreams are cool! Don’t give up on them! But if our only sources of that giddy “I can’t wait to do that!” energy are things that may only happen in a few years (or “when I get rich” or “once I’m healed” or “when I get braver” or maybe even never), well, that’s a good recipe for feeling unfulfilled and like our current life is empty and boring compared to that shiny fantasy. You’ll miss out on a lot of joy when you save up all your feelings of excitement for the “later”. 

So, this isn’t about big bucket list stuff and it also isn’t about any classic self-improvement techniques. If you look forward to exercise or meditation, all the more power to you (because obviously you’ll reap the mental health benefits of those things plus those giddy feelings)… but first and foremost this is about joy. 

This is about seeing the magic in the ordinary things, in the here and now (and yes, that sounds pretty lame. Sometimes you gotta be lame to be happy!). 

It’s also about feeling in control of your life. In order to look forward to something, you need to intentionally pick something to do. And that’ll feel so much better than just passively letting life happen to you or waiting for your “real life” to start or letting some algorithm choose which content to consume until it’s time for bed. It’s about not postponing joy until life gets better but making life better by making it more joyful!

So, how do you teach yourself to look forward to things and which things work best?

You need to set a (small, pleasant, easily achievable) goal and follow through on it.

It can be a small, special treat or reward, like “On Monday I’ll buy a candy bar after work” or “I’ll make a cup of my favorite tea tomorrow morning”. It can also just be being mindful of the things you do anyway: if you always listen to music while on the train, don’t just hit shuffle once you sit down and instead deliberately choose a specific album you want to listen to before you board the train. 

The trick is just to intentionally pick something fun to do and then let yourself feel pumped about doing it and then follow through with actually doing it. It doesn’t even need to be anything new or different than usual! If you always make pasta for dinner because that’s your favorite dish, then just deliberately spend some extra thought during the day on how freaking awesome it is that you get to eat your favorite dish again tonight! 

When you’re new to this, it’s best to pick something that’s in the near future, like later that day or the day after. You get time to build up excitement but you also get to follow through pretty quickly. So your brain gets to make the connection that happily looking forward to something is “worth it”! 

This can feel a bit ridiculous and fake at first, especially if you’re usually not an overly cheerful person. It’s okay if it feels a bit silly to be joyful about the prospect of eating pasta. Good news is, this is something where you can absolutely “fake it til you make it”. You may have to consciously remind yourself to be excited about it at first (it’s okay to use little helpers, like notifications on your phone or a good old sticky note somewhere you’ll see it!) - but even when it’s fake at first, your brain will forge those pathways and over time “happily looking forward to things” will become a natural habit that’ll add a bit of sparkle to the ordinary! 

And especially for those “waiting until I can be myself” cases: Yeah, finding magic in the ordinary will not “fix” living with homophobic parents or gender dysphoria. But it’ll give you some moments of light while you wait for things to get better. And you deserve that. Lighting some candles while waiting in the dark will always beat just sitting in the dark.

With all my love, 

Your Tumblr Dad 

[fatuismooches]

My personal headcanon is that Dottores main lab in sneznyaha is underneath his mansion (that the fandom all collectively agrees each harbinger was given lol) so walking into his mansion it’s completely deserted. No lights, no decor, not much furniture, just …empty. Further into the mansion there would be a secret hidden entrance that leads down into the massive laboratory that is buzzing with activity.

After waking up fragile reader probably wouldn’t even know there’s a whole mansion above them because dottore is very protective and he hasn’t installed security up there. Maybe once they learn about that a segment will take them up to see it . I imagine reader would like the mansion portion of their lovers property. They can sit by the windows and watch the snowfall without being scolded for being in weather too harsh for them. Dottore doesn’t like them up there alone because of the lack of security.

Maybe once they’re feeling better they can make use of the grand and untouched kitchen and whip up their lovers some treats because we all agree he has a sweet tooth <3

Dottore had never needed or cared for a fancy way of life. His lab was suited for his desires (always engrossed in his research) and was equipped to handle all of his needs (and yours too, of course, he had made sure of every little detail before you woke up.) The only reason he remembers the existence of the upper floors is because he and the segments obviously need to exit from there. Honestly, he could do without it... new agents sometimes get lost trying to find the entrance to the lab. (The mansion was given to him with expensive furniture too, but over time the segments eventually started selling it for a bit of extra funds. No one questions the bareness.)

You never really questioned the layout of the lab because well. Dottore + lab just makes sense. You don't find out about the whole mansion aspect until you hear a poor agent talking about how dusty it is up there. Of course, your interest is immediately piqued while you're also impressed the entrance upstairs is so well hidden despite your thorough analysis of the lab... hmph.

Dottore, on the other hand, is a bit annoyed at the babbling of his agents, but he knew that this would happen eventually. He just wished it was at... a later date. Preferably farther into the future. Preferably when he had an actual chair up there and the copious amount of dust wouldn't make you flare up. That was just preferable of course. Now with your pleading eyes and constant clinging to his arm quick measures were to be taken.

He still doesn't quite understand why you'd want to be up there when the lab has everything and more, but it makes you content... so it's fine. Something that Dottore had learned was that he doesn't need to analyze and pick apart every part of your brain all the time but rather just go along with what makes you comfortable. (Which could be a challenge sometimes, considering the kind of man he was.)

If the mansion had a balcony there would be many cute dates there... a good way of being outside while being able to quickly warm up! You two would watch the view together and some birds would visit you!

(I always imagine Reader shares the big lab kitchen with the Fatui agents, and although Dottore makes them clear out while you use it, sometimes they pop in accidentally and just. Watch you make sweets for *the* Il Dottore. With a cute lil 'remember to take breaks!!' note to the side. Real crazy stuff goes on in his lab... So yes, you would definitely appreciate that kitchen. Dottore watches from the side because you banned him since he kept stealing bites before the sweet was even finished.)

[drchucktingle]

Mr Chuck, wizard of gay romance, I consult ye. Without knowing a damn thing about the plot of the book I'm writing other than it is gay and has themes of hunger, consumption, joy in spite of suffering, and the fleeting nature of life, how should my story end?

well to create we need to consume, this is how we produce energy and multiply and build. since beginning of time from frothing volcanos to tiny microbes CREATION and CONSUMPTION are linked. in addition an act of creation is an act of love, it is filling the empty void with SOMETHING and that is as powerful and important as it gets

i think what confuses MANY buckaroos is they get caught up by the consumption part. they see this equation i have laid out and say 'well if consuming leads to creation and creation is to point then we must consume everything as a moral imperative.' i mean HECK that is capitalism in a dang nutshell right there. if you trot this path it says the bigger fish should eat the little one, and that war and power are sort of innate. you see a lot of goofball conservative philosophers with melted brains stop here and set up shop to peddle their sad wares

THE PROBLEM IS consuming everything that you can DOES NOT ACTUALLY LEAD TO MORE CREATION IN PRACTICE. maybe sometimes in the very short term, but at the end of the dang trot it leads to destruction on a massive scale. if the biggest fish eats ALL the little fish then it is not just the little fish who dies it is BOTH of them. if you seek power through TAKING AND CONSUMING all that you can you will do more harm than good. you may puff up your chest for a little while but eventually you will go beyond your means and crumble.

consuming yields the best results when you do it in sustainable way, when you share with your neighbor, when you build a community. this is because LOVE is the best fuel and love thrives when buds work together to create a greater whole than themselves. even if you use example of TAKING through violence, ten little cave buckaroos as a team will always take down one big cave buckaroo. COMMUNITY PROVES LOVE. TEAMWORK PROVES LOVE. CONNECTION PROVES LOVE.

fortunately, as much as scoundrels want to convince us that fighting and violence and TAKING is the best way to grow as a dang species, it is not. humans thrived not because of some primal hierarchy (as goofball conservatives say) but because we started villages and societies and systems of working together. the buds who put their chips behind the BIGGEST FISH are only seeing one part of the picture. YES sometimes in the animal kingdom the biggest beast will win the fight, but that is why THEY ARE BEASTS AND WE ARE PEOPLE. we evolved to greater heights as we grew bigger brains for sharing and empathy and love and complexity. WE STARTED COMMUNITIES, BECAUSE WITHIN COMMUNITY CREATION AND LOVE THRIVE. THE 'REAL' BIGGEST FISH IS KINDNESS.

so hunger and consuming are ACTUALLY an important part of creation. they are part of bringing joy to this timeline, so long as you are not endlessly hungry even after you are full, and so long as you are not consuming what could be better shared with a bud.

hope that helps with your story buckaroo

[actual-changeling]

i feel like all my meta posts just clicked and solved a puzzle in my brain. however i am also currently upping my sleep med dosage so if any of this sounds like the incoherent rambles of a mad man it's cause i am. incoherent and insane and rambling that is. (not a man)

but i have to write this post since i had a lightbulb realization moment.

because the thing is, besties, that aziraphale is a fucking horrible liar. he gets nervous and fidgety, he stutters, you can SEE him sweating anxiety. just look at him in the bookshop when the archangels inquire about their not-so-little 25 lazarii miracle.

his best "lies" are when he is actually telling the truth but twisted. he has never been a good liar (see job) and that has not changed in six thousand years. all smiles directed at archangels are visibly wrong, his discomfort is tangible.

whenever he panics it is written across his face clear as day, including, and this is the important bit, when he is talking to the metatron.

now, you are wondering why exactly that matters, and the point is something we have all talked and thought about for ages but my brain just. formed some new neural pathways.

because he is a terrible liar, he is horrible at hiding his emotions.

but you know who isn't?

crowley.

unless you know him, it is very hard to read his facial expressions with his glasses on. he can turn his emotions "off", he can put a wall in front of them and by extension around himself.

i talked about it more in this post, so for background info have a look at it (if you want to)

it's crowley's thing yet there is one moment, one, glorious moment in which aziraphale executes it perfectly. and that moment mirrors crowley putting on his glasses, it is aziraphale attempting to hide away all of his feelings and thoughts so no one can tell what he is really thinking.

the parallels besties. the fucking parallels.

what really sells it to me is that last comparison because it matches too well to not be intentional. honestly, after the sink story i think every little thing in this show is done on purpose and with attention to detail, so.

the empty look, the heartbreak, the pain - the realization. this is it. i am not walking away from this unharmed but i am walking away. or rather into the loneliness, the absence of the person i love.

for aziraphale also the realization that the world is about the get fucked and he is not.

after that we have the inhale of courage. taking a deep breath to calm yourself, to find your way back to your body. a kind of preparation we have all done at one point or another.

the mask slides into place. or at least you want it to slide into place, you are trying to fucking jam it into the spot you need it to be but sometimes it's like trying to push the square peg through the round hole.

it's a disconnect, it's putting up a physical and emotional wall. crowley does it to hide away from aziraphale.

aziraphale does it hide from heaven and the metatron, yes, but he does it to hide from himself. at his core, aziraphale compartmentalizes. he is so fucking good at cognitive dissonance it's scary, and that's what happens here.

he knows, he KNOWS, that he needs to lock up his feelings or he won't be able to get into that fucking lift and do what he thinks he needs to do.

and so he walks away from crowley just like crowley walked away from him, copying him and doing exactly what he has seen him do a thousand times: putting up wall after wall after wall. ripping out every sprout of vulnerability before it can bloom.

except that he stopped doing it after the no-pocalypse, and that is why it hurts so fucking badly when he puts his glasses back on.

he is not ripping out a sprout, he is uprooting an entire fucking tree

aziraphale cannot hide behind sunglasses by crowley so he hides underneath an angelic persona, the person he thinks he should be, needs to be, and the problem is that whenever he slips into that role, it becomes him.

getting crowley to take off his glasses again is going to be a herculean task and the same goes for getting aziraphale to drop his act. they're one and the same in shape and origin and purpose but they are not indestructible.

because listen. all of this is painful and it hurts. it really is.

the fun part, however, is the fact that we know exactly what it takes to destroy that barrier, we have seen it happen to crowley before.

my point is that we are missing the parallel for said destruction.