#yes hello this took way too many years off my life

[ginger-grimm]

OC HALLOWEEN CHALLENGE 2023

Day 23: The Apocalypse Is The Best Thing That Ever Happened To Me

Riley Parrish always knew that her family was haunted by their past demons, literally. She knew that one day, the work they did daily to save the world would come back to bite them in the ass. It was merely a year after they had defeated the hunters out to destroy all supernaturals, that just that happened.

It was a demon overlord who successfully ended the world as we knew it - just like that. Suddenly, Riley and her best friends, Marlow Stilinski and Nixie Baker, found themselves alone in Beacon Hills, their families, friends, and significant others suddenly all dead.

As the girls try to understand their new normal and navigate a world without many humans left, Riley knows she must find a way to go back in time and change the chain of events that led to their despair.

Years go by and as Riley is still trying out every concoction of spells and potions and rituals to change things, Marlow begins to lose her will to live without her loved ones, and Nixie seems to thrive in the Apocalypse. The work is hard and not having any help is harder, but Riley knows it can't stay this way. Something has to be done.

COLORING

TAGLIST: @waterloou @eddysocs ​ @ocs-supporting-ocs @foxesandmagic @veetlegeuse @decennia @hiddenqveendom @arrthurpendragon @luucypevensie @richitozier @noratilney @wordspin-shares @oneirataxia-girl @endless-oc-creations @lucys-chen @andromedalestrange @far-shores @daughter-of-melpomene @bibaybe

[the-darklings]

FOR YOUR ARCANE PROMPTS LIST POOKIE: "hands under your lover's clothes" w/Silco??? perhaps?? perchance?? PLS PLS POOKIE, MY GLORIOUS QUEEN, MY EVERYTHING <3

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ silco x gn!reader, complicated relationship, a little angst, no spoilers for s2, cat & mouse dynamic but who is who? wc: 768

“It’s dangerous playing games with a patient man.”

“Are you? Patient?”

Silco’s mouth flutters into what could pass for a fleeting smile. It’s a rare expression on him, an ease that is seldom seen in the years since he left Vander’s side. Nowadays, he is nothing like the fresh-faced youth so desperate to fix the world you first met.

“More so than many, I’d reckon,” he replies placidly, watching you with idle interest. You lean on his oak wood desk, the rough grain of the wood warm beneath your fingers as you skim over his notes and ledgers. His meticulous nature is evident in the way he organised everything about the Shimmer trade. It’s almost irritating. “You are here for a reason.”

The gentle accusation falls on deaf ears.

“I was just saying hello,” you drawl, your voice low, swinging your attention his way. Silco’s scoff is a low, throaty sound, barely audible, but filled with disdain. 

You’re not sure when it started, you and him. If it was survival or a desire for a better life that drove you both from the start. You wanted freedom and independence and then he took the Undercity, and, in a way, you too. Since then, you’ve existed in his sphere, enjoying his favour. Flaunt it without making it obvious, slipping past the cracks of his rules. 

He appears so collected on his chair, a king on his throne in truth, but his immaculate clothes are wrinkled, buttons undone, and his Adam’s apple bobs when you touch his tie. You know better than to go near his throat. The last time you did, fingers eager and teeth nipping at the taut flesh there, he jerked back as if shocked. Terror and rage had overcome him, twisting you on his bed, still tangled in each other, before you could turn back your instincts. When his hands closed around your throat in response, you didn’t fight him off, and maybe it was that above all else that made Silco snap out of his spell.

No, instead, you slip your hand past the unbuttoned shirt, tracing over his sharp collarbone. Silco rests his cheek lightly on his hand, watching you through a narrowed eyed stare. Daring you, yes, but also curious. The heavy scarring on his face never bothered you. You didn’t lack scars of your own, but this… 

You slip forward, knee resting on the chair between his parted legs, hand slipping lower, to rest over his thudding heart. 

“Hello.” Your lips shape the word before you breathe them against his lips again. Your free hand cups his face and the hard beat of his heart echoes against your palm. 

The kiss is gentle, more civilised than either of you are used to, a sweetness that lingers even though it’s not what either of you normally craves, but when he doesn’t pull away, a secret thrill shoots up your spine. His deep inhale fills your ears, the heat of his lips imprinting on yours. A deep, rumbling sound vibrates through his chest when you deepen the kiss, your fingers moving in gentle circles over his skin. 

With a viper’s swiftness, Silco snaps his hand behind your head when you break the kiss, keeping you close. Nose to nose, your breaths mingle. You can’t quite tell what lingers in his burning gaze, one icy blue, another molten gold. 

“Are you hoping to endear yourself to me?” he asks, knowing and throaty. “A foolish play.”

“I won’t say that,” you say, breathless. “And if I was… well, I think you’re holding up just fine.”

Licking your lips, you pull back, grinning at him. He hasn’t moved, his knuckles returning to his cheek. Nonchalant, except for the heavy weight with which he still examines you. Silco won’t indulge you in admitting you do this because you’re the only one he can rely on in this shitty, twisted world of yours. You support his vision, you’ve always believed it, even when you were younger. 

Adjusting your dishevelled clothes, you look over at him once more. Not so crisp and orderly for once. Satisfaction nestles in your gut at the observation that the usually perfectly groomed and dressed man—this infamous crime lord—is a mess in the dim light of his office. Undone. Caught. Even if predatory hunger reflects in that golden hue. 

You wag your fingers in a playful wave. “It’s dangerous playing games with patient people, love, haven’t you heard?”

[chrisevansonly]

The Media’s Favourite

charles leclerc x female reader

summary: amelia is the light of charles’s life, and she adores him just as much, it’s a good think the media loves her too…

warnings: very fluffy dad charles, like tooth rotting

a/n: i really needed this after the past few days i’ve been having, so this is self indulgent for sure

Amelia had her head on your shoulder as you weaved your way through the crowds to reach Charles before he was whisked off for media duties. He’d come in second at the grand prix today, and the two of you couldn’t have been any prouder especially after how the season started for him.

“Papa?”

You smiled softly kissing the 4 year olds cheek gently, her eyes looking around for her favourite person

“Almost there petit fleur, we’re almost there..”

The two of you walked down towards the motorhomes and over to ferrari’s hospitality, once the two of you had made it safely, Charles was waiting where he usually was, towards the back offices.

“Bonjour mes bébés!”

At the sound of Charles’s voice Amelia picked her head up and smiled happily

“Papa!!”

“Mon ange!!”

He responded with an enthusiasm to match his little girls, and man did the two of them ever look like twins. Charles took her from you gently and you smiled as she clung to him tightly, the Monégasque kissing her cheek a few times before sending you a smile, a pressing a kiss to your lips.

“You did so well baby, congratulations”

“Thank you amour, I think it was because my girls were here”

He kissed your forehead, wrapping his arm around your waist before walking with the two of you down towards the media pen. It was almost tradition to go anywhere together as a family, especially in the paddock on race weekends.

As the three of you arrived, Charles took you and Amelia behind where you’d be away from the journalists but could still see him, only when he went to pass Amelia back to you, she whined

“No papa, stay with you!”

You frowned knowing how hard it was for her to see him and then need to let him go again

“Bébé, papa will only be a little while”

Amelia shook her head, her bottom lip pouting as she tucked her head into Charles’s neck, soft little whimpers escaping her

“Want to stay, papa want to stay!”

Charles thought about it before nodding

“You want to come with papa and talk about the race?”

Moving her head to look at him Charles could have swore his heart burst at the anxious look in his daughters eyes, not because of the camera, but because she didn’t want to be anywhere but his arms.

“Yes please!”

Looking at you to check if it was okay you nodded and watched them walk out into the media pen, all eyes on the father-daughter duo. Thankfully today, Charles had Lissie interviewing him.

“Well this is a surprise, hello Charles and hello Amelia!”

Amelia waved shyly and Charles laughed, adjusting her on his hip so she could see better.

“I have a buddy for media today it seems”

“You do, quite a cute one too!”

Charles smiled before nudging Amelia

“What do you say bébé?”

The toddler smiled, leaning her head on his shoulder

“Thank you”

Lissie smiled just as brightly, the content too cute to handle as she dove into questions about the race, Amelia listening intently, just happy to be in her father’s arms and close to him.

As the interview began to close Lissie asked Charles if Amelia could answer a question, to which he nodded, the four year old now watching her with interest.

“So Amelia, I was wondering who is the best race car driver?”

Amelia was quiet before gently patting Charles’s chest

“Papa! He is the best! He can go ‘weally fast! He’s my ‘favowite”

For being four years old she’d always been so great with words, even if some were still hard to pronounce she gave it her all.

“You heard it here everyone, Amelia Leclerc’s favourite driver is her dad! Safe to say I think many would agree, Thank you Charles and thank you Amelia!”

Charles thanked Lissie before the pair weaved their way back towards you, your arms open and ready to pull then in for a tight hug.

“I’m so proud of you my superstars!”

Kissing both of them gently you all made your way back to get your things and get ready to leave the track. When the day started you definitely didn’t know it would end this way, seeing your baby girl so animated and happy in front of the cameras for the world to see.

You just knew it wouldn’t be the first or last time Amelia took the Formula One media pen by storm…turns out she was a fan favourite. But even then, she’d always be yours and Charles’s favourite too.

[2hightocare]

WHAT YOU NEED ✷

Synopsis: Jungkook and you try getting into the Christmas spirit, but you end up getting fucked up against the kitchen counter.

Pairing: Jungkook x f!reader

Genre: established relationship au!

Warnings: smut, size kink, light spanking, squirting, creampie, unprotected sex (don’t b dumb nd wear condom.) fluff, cussing, Jungkook has a dirty mouth. a kms joke, hair pulling and choking

Word count: 2.3k

A/n: let’s not sayyyy.. when i say i was giggling and kicking my feet i am not fucking lying! (Jk had me on a chokehold istg😒) they flagged my shit… um

Is it barely November 1st? Yes.

Are you putting the Christmas tree up already? Fuck yeah.

Jungkook would clown you for your love for Christmas, and honestly, you didn't care because you loved everything about it. The decorations, the new flavored coffee menu’s, the gifts underneath the tree, and the cold. You loved wearing beanies, scarves, and thick hoodies. Something about this holiday takes you back to your childhood—the way you would gather with your siblings and parents in the kitchen, making sugar cookies to put under the tree for Santa.

Were you heartbroken when your parents told you they were Santa? Yes. You felt betrayed after they lied to you for thirteen years of your life. When you shared your story with Jungkook, he burst out laughing, sharing that he found out at age nine after catching his parents in the act, making you want to cry for him.

Now here you both were at 10:40 pm assembling the Christmas tree. Jungkook's mom gifted you both, which is much bigger than yours from last year.

“Oh my fuck—this is too big, baby." Jungkook admires the height of the tree with his hands rested on both sides of his hips. Your excitement rises at how many possible ways you both could decorate it.

"Well, I can tell you hate it,” your boyfriend jokes as his hands wrap around your bare waist from behind. “Your hands are cold,” you flinch. Your hands wrap around his, trying to pass him your warmth.

“And if we decorate it with tiny dicks?” You crack your neck upward to see his reaction. “I mean, go for it, baby."

You swat his chest as he burst into a fit of laughter. “You swear you’re so funny, huh?” You look at him with a serious face, your mouth twitching from trying to hold in the big smile that wants to come out.

Jungkook just shakes his head. “Wanna decorate today with last year's decorations, or we can wait till tomorrow and buy new ones, and instead we can bake Christmas cookies?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you.

Anyone in their right mind would be thinking we’re crazy for already baking Christmas cookies when December is in a whole month. But you both didn’t care.

…

“We should’ve gotten pre-made cookie dough.” Your eyes look around at the marble counter in front of you, filled with all the ingredients your mother-in-law told you to use. “On god.” Jungkook stands beside you. “You know what? Let me call my mom. We need a tutorial, I'm afraid.” You giggle as he pulls out his phone, opening up FaceTime.

The phone rings three times before the camera fills up with your mother-in-law smiling sweetly. "Hi, my babies!” She says first, Your face lights up. “Hi,” you wave a hand to the camera. “Hi mom!”

“You guys look adorable,” she motions to your guys matching pink hello kitty pajamas. “Y/n bought them; I had no choice,” he lied, knowing damn well he wanted to match first. “Sureee.” You rolled your eyes at him.

The call continued as Jungkook's mom gave you guys simple instructions like beating the sugar and butter with a whisk, which Jungkook took over because your hand started to hurt, and gradually adding flour to the mixture, which ended with both of you guys covered in white flour because Jungkook turned the mixer too fast. After wishing your goodbyes, you both slightly shake off the flour, and you put the dough in the refrigerator. Apparently, you have to let it be firm.

“So now we have two hours to wait. I say we fuck.” Jungkook slaps your ass, making you squeal. “You’re horny??” Your hands make their way to his hair, slightly pulling. "Hm, maybe,” he whispers into your mouth, and he gives you a slow, wet kiss. “I’m still sore from earlier." I mumble in between kisses. “Was I too rough?” His rough hands massage your ass. You shrug your shoulders in his embrace.

“Christmas movie, then?” He asks, “I’m so down."

….

“Shit takes like ass,” you say, finishing up the cookie.

Your boyfriend looks around for the long-gone cookie. “I don't know; let’s ask the audience.” He looks around for the invisible camera. “Bitch!” You swat his arm, and he burst out laughing, holding on to his stomach.

“You literally ate that shit up.” His head is thrown back, and the most beautiful laugh roars out of him. “I will kill myself genuinely.” You chuckle while trying another cookie without the frosting you guys tried making from a tutorial on Google.

“The frosting is ass, cause this is a bomb,” you stuff your mouth with the remaining of the cookie humming at the taste. “Am I weird cause I fuck with the frosting?" He dips his pinky nto the bowl where the white frosting is before sucking it off. “Never mind actual shit." His nose scrunches in disgust, and his tongue sticks out, making you giggle.

"No, seriously, why is it so bad?” Jungkook takes a sip of the milk he had served not so long ago. “I have no clue, baby, but the sugar cookie itself slaps." You take your half eaten cookie up to your boyfriend's mouth and say, "Open, ahh." He immediately follows commands and opens before you shove his mouth with the golden cookie. “Mhm,” Jungkook's face scrunches as he bobs his head up and down, savoring the heart-shaped cookie.

“Probably the best cookie I had in a while, not gonna lie,” he states, taking a bite of the gingerman's head.

“Do we have cinnamon?” You make your way to the drawer where you keep all the spices. “ Found it,” you make your way back to the cookie before sprinkling some on your and Jungkook's cookies before taking a huge bite. “Oh my fuck," you moan.

"Oh, my fuck indeed.” Jungkook shoves the remaining cookie into his mouth, moaning at how it melted in his mouth. "Think, I just saw stars.” You say this while he side-eyes you. “Haha no.” He says that before picking you up on the counter, he settles in between your legs.

“Horny still?” You ask again, "Yes, very, I’ll be a gentle promise.” He leaves open-mouth kisses on your neck before slowly sucking.

“No marks.” You moan, your fingers slightly tugging on his hair and making him groan. “Scarf season, princess.” He looks up with a smirk on his face, then continues his actions, sucking and licking your soft spot. You bite your lip, trying to be quiet. Jungkook slowly grinds into your clothed pussy causing you to slip out a throaty moan. “Fuck—“ you throw your head back, your legs caging him closer to where you most need him. “I need you to lose the clothes and fuck me.” Jungkook chuckles at your demanding tone.

“Yeah? Want my cock already?” His hands rub on your thighs. You nod your head, looking down at the imprint of his now-hard cock. You reach for it, but Jungkook slaps your hand away, making you pout. “Patience princess,” Jungkook's hands tug on the band of your pajamas, pulling them down and taking your underwear along with it.

You squeal as your bare ass feels the cold counter top, and your boyfriend laughs before throwing the clothes somewhere on the ground.

Your pussy clenches over nothing, and you go to press your thighs together to relieve some of the tension, only for Jungkook to hold them wide open. He pulls his hard cock out of his pants, giving himself two pumps before slapping it on your wet center. Your gaze fixated on his dick on your pussy, your lips between your teeth moaning slightly when your boyfriend gives it another slap with his dick.

“So wet for me, baby,” he says, giving it another slap. "C'mere," Jungkook's picks you off the counter from your arms, “bend over. ” He orders.

You quickly follow his command, your juices dripping down your legs from how wet you were already. Jungkook spreads open your legs some more before making his way in between them, giving your ass a slap. “Fuck—“ you clench your thighs together as he soothes the red mark he just left. “Fuck, when are you going to let me fuck this ass.” Your boyfriend asks you, giving you another spank, making you squeak.

“Never,” you moan, making him chuckle under his breath. “Worth the try.” He jokes before sinking down into you, both moaning at the feeling. You felt so full. Jungkook is so big, stretching your pussy deliciously. “So big shit," you moan, your cheek pressed against the counter as he fills you up to the hilt. “You can take it, baby,” Jungkook says between gritted teeth. He felt you clenching around him, having him on the verge of coming right there in an instant.

“Always so good for me, baby. Want me to fuck you so good, huh?” He whispers into your ear, and you clench around him, earning you another spank, ripping a loud moan out of you. “Fuck me," you stutter over the pleasure your lower belly is feeling. “That’s what I like to hear, baby,” Jungkook says before pulling his cock out, just leaving the tip in before slamming into you. Your mouth hangs open as he repeats the movements over and over again. “Fuck just like that,” you grip to the edge of the counter, your eyes close immediately, as his rough hands compare to your smooth skin, hold tightly to the sides of your hips, pounding into you from behind.

“This cunt is mine, right?” Jungkook groans, sliding his cock in and out of your walls. You could only reply with a loud moan. But that’s not enough for Jungkook; your boyfriend wraps his hand around your hair, pulling you upward and arching your back in the process. “Use your words, princess.” He orders in your ear, his movements never halting.

"Fuck—your pussy! Only yours,” you spit out whatever words you could make a sentence out of. “Fucking you dumb, huh?” He lets go of your hair and moves his hand around your neck, adorning it like a necklace and applying some pressure. "Mhmm,” you moan, trying to open your eyes but shutting close after Jungkook slams into you again.

The room fills with the wet clapping sounds, groans, and moans that keep spilling out of your guys mouths. Your fingers find your sensitive clit, applying pressure and drawing small circles. "Fuck—I'm gonna come!” Your legs shake beneath Jungkook, and his arm wraps around your waist in case your legs give out on you.

“Yeah baby? Gonna come for me?” He slaps your hand away from your clit replacing it with his. Your back arches against him, and his cock continues hitting your g-spot repeatedly, sending you over the edge.

“Oh fuc—“ Your words are cut short when the pleasure in your belly finally snaps, and Jungkook's fingers furiously move on your pussy, making you scream into your hand. Wetness pools on your feet, dripping down your legs. “Fuck so hot when you squirt,” Jungkook continues fucking you through your orgasm, the overstimulation has you shaking underneath him. “Too much fu-fuck,” you head drops to the counter. You clench, sending Jungkook over the edge.

“Coming,” your boyfriend's head drops to your shoulder, his movements becoming sloppy, springs of cum shooting inside you, moaning at the feeling.

His movements come to a halt, his mind foggy, his cock throbbing when he pulls out, making you whine, feeling empty.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck,” Jungkook mutters under his breath as he sees his cum dripping out of your hole. Without a second thought, he shoves it back in with his index finger. “Aw shit,” you moan at the sensitivity.

He chuckles, kissing your shoulder blade. “You were so good for me, baby.” He leaves open-mouthed kisses all over your back, breathing heavily. You are trying to catch your breath, and your legs feel like jelly, not being able to move from your current position.

“Mhm,” you hum softly, your eyes closing. "Baby, don’t fall asleep on me,” Jungkook smiles at you, picking you up in bridal style, making you to squeal.

"How the fuck can you be so cute after just getting railed?” Your boyfriend moves your hair out of your face as you try to snuggle into his chest. “You play too much,” you mumble.

Jungkook lays you down on the bed before disappearing into your guys bathroom; a couple minutes later, coming out changed and with a warm rag in hand, “here, baby open,” he coos motioning to your legs. You do as he says. He slowly cleans and wipes your center, making you moan from oversensitivity. “Almost done,” he says before giving a last swipe and throwing the rag somewhere in the room.

“Do you want a pill, baby?” He asks against your cheek, to which you nod. He stands up, walking to your side of the closet and getting you something comfy to wear. “Here. Be right back.” Jungkook leaves the clothes next to you and leaves the room.

As you change into your clothes, Jungkook waltz’s in with an ibuprofen and a glass of water on his other hand. “Here,” he says, waiting for you to poke your head out of his hoodie before handing you the small pill.

You swallow the pill without any complaints before dropping down on the bed. “So tired.” Your eyes close before you even hit the pillow, making him chuckle. “Worn you out, huh?” He teases before dropping beside you, pulling the covers over both of you. You immediately cuddle up to his side, feeding off the warmth he radiates. Your leg is over his torso, and your hand is on his chest.

“I love you, princess.” He whispers into your hair, leaving a small kiss on your forehead. “I love you; now let’s go, mimi’s." You kiss his clothed chest, hoping he can still feel the kiss.

[paarksunghoon]

hello omg i love love LOVE deep honey, which is rare cus i usually do not touch fluff at all but smth abt the way u wrote got to me. i was wondering that in case u wanted an idea, u could write abt sunghoon rushing over to take care of his sick girlfriend? :3 just a thought or any headcannons u have on that would do fine but if u wanna turn it into a drabble or fic that's good too, especially if it's a continuation of deep honey

anyways, that is all from me, have a good day!!!

thank you so much :’) for all of my nsfw drabbles and content, I really enjoy writing the softer kind of stories. switched up the request just a little. consider this a token of my appreciation for your kindness. xx

ps this is what I’m imaging him wearing

***

If there’s one thing you know, it’s that nothing good could ever happen when you text someone past 2AM.

Both existential and physical dread consume you the second you open your texts and see a plethora of unread messages due to your current state of being. You’ve been bedridden for what feels like years but it’s only been a few of days. It’s technically Sunday morning and technically you should be fast asleep, especially since you’d taken medication to help you rest throughout the night. But seems like your body has other plans for you.

Tossing and turning won’t do either. Your head feels much better than it has for the past two days. You’d taken two days off or classes because of intense migraines paired with what seems like onset sickness due to it being flue season. Guilt over missing classes and groveling to your professors (even if they extended grace and told you to rest up) ate you alive, only ebbing away when you closed your eyes and slept.

Your roommate has been away because of a family event and what was once a promising weekend full of relaxation and the apartment to yourself is now a time for you to wallow in your misery. You’ve gone through countless tissues and have slept more in the past few days than in your entire life. It feels like your head might as well be cut off with how many problems your eyes, nose, and throat are giving you.

To pass the time, social media distracts you for a few minutes and you catch glimpses of what your friends have been up to. Partying. Studying. Eating at the cafeteria. All of these are mundane events you took for granted because you’d love to be anywhere but rotting away in your apartment. You’d rather studying for a midterm over feeling like you can’t move without losing your breath.

You take this time to catch up on texts as well. There are so many what remain unread by you and guilt crawls up your spine as you begin to reply to everything.

hi riki!! sorry I haven’t replied yet. I’ve been sick all weekend :/ I wish I could’ve gone to jake’s game with u bc it looked so fun ☹️

jungwon ur your cat is so cute omg…please send more vids. also sorry for replying late im sick lol

sunoo I swear to god if you watch another episode without me, I’m gonna beat your ass whenever I recover

yes, mom. I’m resting as much as I can! sorry I haven’t responded sooner. I still feel sick

heeseung do u think sunghoon would be weirded out if i text him right now. pls advise 😁

Heeseung immediately reads the message and the text bubble appears straight away. He’s one of your closest friends in university who always happens to be friends with Park Sunghoon, the guy you’ve been talking to for the past month and a half.

heeseung: Nah not weird. He’d probably like hearing from you

heeseung: He was asking about you earlier today and said you haven’t been talking to him as much

you: looking at my phone made me nauseous :/

heeseung: You should probably tell him that bc he’s been staring at his phone all day

you: soooo it wouldn’t be weird if I texted him out of the blue rn?? usually we don’t like…start conversations so late

heeseung: You’re overthinking. Just text him and if he doesn’t reply then he’s asleep and will text you in the morning

you: I’m scared of fucking it up

heeseung: There’s nothing to fuck up. If he gets mad that you took care of yourself (he won’t be) then he’s the one who fucked up

you: ugh when did u become the voice of reason

heeseung: :)

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard after you’ve opened Sunghoon’s text. You can imagine his slight pout when you think about how he’d react when he realizes you haven’t texted him back, which makes you feel even more guilty than you already are.

You’re not really sure how you started talking to him, let alone befriended Heeseung to the point where he started inviting you to hang out with him and his group of friends. Heeseung had originally been a study partner for a shared class back when the two of you were sophomores. It’s been a couple of years since then and now most of your conversations consist of TikTok jokes and Heeseung having to deal with you pining over one of his friends.

Sunghoon is every bit of cool you can imagine. He was so quiet when you first met him, residing in his oversized sweater since it was approaching the beginning of autumn. Heeseung invited you to a local bar on a Friday night after midterms and said your first drink would be on him if you made it before last call, knowing very well you were likely getting ready to slip underneath your blankets and call it a night.

He was right as always. You showed up wearing jeans and an old shirt with a jacket that was too big for your body. You’d made somewhat of an effort to look presentable since you’d be hanging out with his friends near campus and would rather not look like you’d gotten rolled over by a locomotive. It was there you met Sunghoon for the first time. He was so quiet that you barely heard him talk until an hour into hanging out with him, but that’s when you learned that he was someone you needed to get to know before he’d show you his loud, boisterous personality.

The more you hung out with him, the more you started to picture yourself with Sunghoon, away from the group you started to call your friends too. You’d only see him when Heeseung invited you out or if you bumped into someone else while Sunghoon was in tow with them. Neither of you seemed to cross paths otherwise and even then, Sunghoon was a bit too timid to approach you first and start a conversation.

Part of you wondered if you were ever too bold when you’d get drunk with him and your friends. You were loud, full of laughter and affection that none of your friends were surprised every time you shouted compliments across the tables and declared your love for the little group you considered to be your family away from home. Heeseung had gotten used to it pretty quickly and so did the others, albeit it took a while for their ears to stop glowing red every time you’d pull them into a drunken hug.

Maybe you sent a little too far with Sunghoon, who immediately tensed when your arms wrapped around his shoulders the first time you let your inhibitions down fully. A few beers and shots in, and Heeseung was anticipating your drunken rant about how much you love the little life the five of you had created and hoped that it would continue even after you all graduate.

Sunghoon always looked a bit intimidating with his dark, thick eyebrows and shielded his wandering eyes. He always looked like he knew what he wanted and his grace always made you think twice about what you’d say to him. Although, you knew this was the beginning of an onset crush that wouldn’t remain hidden for long, let alone when you weren’t sober.

So you’d thrown your arms around Sunghoon’s shoulder and told him how happy you were that Heeseung introduced the two of you. While you try not to think about that moment too much, you recall telling Sunghoon that he was slowly starting to become one of your favorite people because of how funny he is when people least expect it. You liked that he was so kind to his friends and that he was so confident in himself, and that you wished you could be a little more like him.

You also said he was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen. It was a sobering moment because he looked at you like you’d grown two heads and his shoulders felt like they might’ve been pushing you off of his body.

Stumbling with consistent apologies, none of your mutual friends seemed to notice what was happening behind them. You can picture the look on his face when your mind crosses to this moment, how he’d looked at you with bewilderment with his mouth ajar. Sunghoon didn’t say anything and you took that cue to leave him alone and head to the bar, where you hoped distance would make this night seem less tragic than it was.

When morning came around, you were the only person in your shared group chat who declined getting a late morning breakfast due to your embarrassment. Even during the next weekend, when Jake opened up his apartment for a casual hang out, you were the only person who didn’t show up, citing work and study stresses keeping you away from your friends.

Heeseung knew those were merely excuses.

“Cut the shit, Y/N. Are you okay? Did one of the guys do anything to make you uncomfortable?” The worst laced in his tone made you feel guilty for having him think the worse of people he knew before he met you.

“No, nothing like that. I think I’m the one who fucked up and made them uncomfortable.”

“Well clearly not since Jake invited you to his place. What’s going on? Do you want me to come over?”

The last thing you expected from Heeseung was to see him double over in laugher when you explained your predicament, clutching onto your bed like he’d fall to the ground if he didn’t. You’re sure that fit of laugher gave him a new set of abs.

“Sunghoon wasn’t weirded out. He texted me and asked if you were okay.” Heeseung pulled his phone out of his pocket to show you, leaving you in a cloud of confusion. “He probably likes you. Sunghoon’s a natural with girls even if he doesn’t realize they’re flirting with him. I think he likes you too because he’s acting really awkward because he doesn’t know how to deal with it.”

That night left you with more question than answers. You considered texting Sunghoon and asking if the two of you could talk, but you didn’t want to make him even more uncomfortable and tell him what Heeseung told you in fear of putting your friend in an awkward position. So you let the discomfort settle and braved seeing him the next time one of your friends invited you out.

Which, to no one’s surprise, was the weekend after Jake’s get together. Seoul’s autumn carnival was in its third weekend by the time the five of you were able to find adequate time to ride every rollercoaster and eat until your stomachs caved in. You loved the fair and were the first person to buy an admission ticket. Poor Jay, who wasn’t the biggest fan of big rides in the first place, tagged along with Jake every time he insisted on it. You tried your best to keep some distance between yourself and Sunghoon, even if Heeseung said you were being ridiculous. You’d chosen to stick by him until Sunghoon volunteered to help you pick up the food trays when you lost a game of rock-paper-scissors.

“I’m sorry that I acted weird that night,” he said, cutting the silence as the two of you waited for your order. He didn’t have to explain. You knew what he was talking about. “Heeseung said you felt bad for making me feel uncomfortable but I need you to know you didn’t make me feel that way.”

That was the longest sentence he’d ever said to you, let alone it being the first time he initiated a conversation with you. He watched as you stood with your eyes wide and mouth parted like you wanted to say something but didn’t know how to say it.

“I think you just caught me off guard. I wasn’t expecting you to say nice things about me. I didn’t realize we were that close because you’d been affectionate with everyone but me up until that night.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “I was, uh, flustered.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He averted your gaze and looked at his shoes momentarily before he looked back at you. “I liked what you said. I haven’t stopped thinking about it.”

You laughed at the awkwardness dissipating. “I thought I crossed a line, or something. You just sat there and I thought I fucked up by touching you.”

He shook his head. “You didn’t. I…I liked it a lot.” You tried to hide a grin by keeping your bubbling excitement under wraps failed miserably. Sunghoon smiled too, offering to carry most of the trays back to the table where your friends were too hungry to talk for the next ten minutes.

The memory brings you back to the present where your thumbs hover the keyboard. You start to read back the conversation between the two of you and feel those butterflies erupt in your stomach for the umpteenth time. The two of you have talked about anything and everything. Nothing is off limits. So why is texting him to let him know you’ve been sick for the past few days so difficult for you?

you: hi

you: sorry I haven’t texted a lot in the past few days. I’ve been having migraines and now I’ve caught a cold ):

you: im sorry for texting so late too

He texts immediately.

sunghoon: You don’t have to be sorry. Are you feeling better now?

sunghoon: Actually don’t answer that

Your phone rings.

“Hey,” you say with your phone propped against your ear. “Sorry for bothering you.”

“You’re not bothering me. I’m the only who’s calling you when you’re sick, so I’m technically the one bothering you.” His laugh on the other line makes you smile a little too hard. “I was really worried. None of the guys heard from you so I figured you needed some space.”

“Unfortunately. I had to skip a few classes because it hurt to stand up. I’m pretty sure I’ve slept more this past week than I have in the last month.”

“I’m sorry. That really sucks.”

“I feel bad that I haven’t been able to talk to you.”

As if Sunghoon could sense you pouting, he clicks his tongue and reassures you. “It’s fine, Y/N. I’d probably do the same thing. I can’t imagine how much pain you’ve been in.”

“I would honestly rather study and take a million midterms than go through this again. I feel like someone just took their shoe off of my head.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear you’re doing better. Can I bring you anything? Medicine, maybe?”

You cough a little. “No, but thank you. My friend dropped off a lot of NyQuil and other stuff to help me. It’s working…kind of. Still feel like shit, though.”

“…Can I come over? To help you with your sickness, of course. I can bring you soup.”

“You don’t have to do that.” You frantically rise from your bed amidst his words and realize there are tissues on the ground and dirty clothes strewn everywhere because of your lack of energy. Your living room must be a mess, too, and this would also be the first time Sunghoon would see you without any makeup on.

“I want to. But I mean, only if you’re up for it. I don’t want to stress you out since you’re sick. I just want to help make you feel better. That…and I miss you.”

Sunghoon’s never been so direct before. Even though the two of you have been talking for a while, neither of you have been so forward about it. Conversations are always subtly flirty to the point where the effervescent feeling simmers just underneath the surface. The two of you have hung out without the rest of your friends and have been alone before, but neither one of you has gone so far as you be so bold about the other.

“I miss you too,” you whisper into the phone.

“Give me thirty minutes. I’ll come with soup.”

He hangs up and with a newfound sense of urgency, you make your bed and throw away any stray trash. You put your dirty laundry in the hamper, which is piled high and untouched. It’ll be a problem for when you’re not sick.

The living room isn’t too bad. You straighten furniture and throw away empty takeout containers and wash a few utensils. The tasks don’t feel as draining as they did a few days ago and you’re starting to regain a little bit of your breath.

True to his word, Sunghoon arrives thirty minutes after he said he would. You open the door and look at him. He’s wearing blue hoodie and sweatpants with specs that make him look significantly more attractive than you’re used to.

“Hi,” Sunghoon says with a gentle smile. “I missed you.”

You bite your lip and blurt out your first thought. “You look really good in those glasses.”

Sunghoon chuckles. “Thank you. Can I come in?”

“Right, right.” You step aside and he follows you into your apartment. He takes his shoes off and places them neatly by the shoe rack.

“I might need to reheat this. I got it from that place near my apartment. You know, the one with the yellow banner?”

“I love that place.”

He smiles at you. “I know. Can I heat up some soup for you?”

When you nod, Sunghoon moves to the correct cabinet and pulls out everything he needs. It astounds you because he’s only ever been to your apartment twice before, both times with your other friends in tow. It dawns on you that it’s the first time the two of you are alone in your space. You’re touched that he remembers where your things are.

He beckons you to sit on the counter in front of the steaming bowl and the aroma of spices makes your mouth water. You haven’t been able to eat consistently in the past few days, surviving on bland foods like bread and crackers to sustain your health because anything else made you feel sicker than you were. The steam feels good against your skin and you dig in right away.

Sunghoon pulls your hair back when it gets close to the rim and holds it for you while you lap up the soup. It seems as though you’re hungrier than you thought because you sit there wordlessly, shoveling liquid into your mouth while Sunghoon watches.

“Sorry,” you apologize. “I must look like a zoo animal.”

“You’re sick, Y/N. You have nothing to apologize for. The first meal you can stomach is the best one.” It’s like he gets you. Sunghoon continues to hold your hair back until you’re finished. He washes the bowl and spoon, and puts it back where they belong.

Sunghoon turns around and looks at you under the ambient lighting you and your roommate put up in lieu of the overhead lights. It feels like he’s inspecting you and you try really hard not to think about the fact that you don’t feel presentable in this moment.

“Your apartment feels very you,” Sunghoon says. “I like all of the green furniture and the art on the wall.”

“My roommate picked the decor out but I’m starting to understand why she loves art so much.”

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he asks, looking at you. “Would you want to go to an art museum with me?”

“I’d really like that.”

Sunghoon pulls you by the hand to your couch and you try your best not to feel flustered with his touch. He sits you down on the cushion and immediately you feel like you need to be hyper vigilant because he’s looking around the apartment and you’re wondering if he can see the messes you see.

“Do you have a blanket? We could watch some TV. Or I could go. I don’t know.”

“Don’t go.” You say it too quickly but Sunghoon’s shoulders relax. “The blankets are beside the couch.”

He drapes it over you, leaving himself to fend for the cold. Although you’re sure he’s pretty warm, you open up the blanket and invite him to share it with you.

This is new territory. You two have just been talking. But Sunghoon isn’t deterred. He slots himself next to you and doesn’t shy away when he feels your arm pressed against him.

“Sorry for the mess. And for, well…” He watches you gesture to your face, which is undoubtedly red with dark circles underneath your eyes.

“You don’t have to apologize for anything. I still like you.”

You aren’t used to him being so upfront like this. He watches you with easy eyes, the kind of feeling that makes you believe what he says. Sunghoon is pretty reserved when it comes to these types of things and you often find yourself being the one to push him towards his bolder side. But even though you feel flustered by his words and underneath his stare, you like this newer side of him.

“I’m such a mess.”

Sunghoon watches you push your forehead into his shoulder in an attempt to hide yourself from him. He smiles at your antics and loves the feeling of your body on his. He’s been hesitant to do things like hold your hand or kiss your cheek in fear or overstepping a boundary. He doesn’t know what came over him when he held your hair back from falling into the hot soup. He knows very well that he could’ve asked where you kept your hair ties, but helping you when he knows you need it felt like the right thing to do.

Now, he wonders if you’re growing bolder with him too. You let your forehead rest against his hoodie as you take deep breaths. He hears you sniffle a few times and nearly coos at the mere thought of you suffering from your sickness. When you pull yourself away from him, the tip of your nose is slightly runny and your eyes look a bit more red than usual.

“I feel like I got hit by a truck.”

He bites his lip. “You could look worse.” You try not to let your cheeks rise in heat.

“You’re just being nice.”

Sunghoon laughs and shakes his head. He could never lie about how he feels towards you. “Nope. You still look really cute.” He watches the gears work inside your head and locates the TV remote when you don’t say anything. “What do you want to watch?”

“I dunno.”

“C’mon, you must’ve been watching TV while you were cooped up here.”

You shake your head. “Migraine, remember? Felt like my eyes were gonna burst.”

This time, he coos out loud. Sunghoon puts on a show you’ve mentioned enjoying in the past and hopes he chose correctly. You seem to be mellowing out and paying attention to the screen in front of you until you start breathing heavily. It’s not until he hears you try to silence a small coughing fit that he shoots up from his seat and pours you a glass of water.

“Here.” Sunghoon doesn’t let you hold the glass. Instead, he beckons your mouth open by placing the rim between your lips and lets you swallow the water, tilting it up until you’ve consumed all of it. He wipes the excess water from the corners of your mouth with his thumb and looks down at you with concern. “Do you have any tea? I can make you some. Hopefully that’ll soothe your throat.”

“Stupid medicine isn’t working,” you grumble. “I might as well perish.”

“Tea, baby,” Sunghoon says, the pet name rolling off his tongue with ease. You almost don’t notice it. “Where do you keep your tea and honey?”

“Cabinet beside the fridge.”

Sunghoon comes back a few minutes later with piping hot chamomile tea with honey. You don’t know how he does it, anticipating your every need and putting just enough honey where it doesn’t feel like you’re stuffing your throat with the sweet nectar. You sip on it slowly as he situates himself back underneath the blanket and keeps his eyes on the television while you try to calm your erratic heartbeat.

Eventually, the episode finished and it’s almost four in the morning when you start to get sleepy. Sunghoon hears you yawning beside him and does his best not to grin like a lovesick idiot when you push your body against his in an attempt to get comfortable. You’re holding the empty cup loosely in your hands when your eyes start to droop and as much as Sunghoon would love to stay like this, he knows it’ll be better for you to sleep in your own bed with your back against the mattress.

“Baby,” Sunghoon whispers. He grabs the mug from your hands and sets it on the coffee table. “I think you should sleep in your bed. You’ll feel a lot better when you wake up.”

“But you’re so warm.”

He bites back a smile. “Thank you, but you’re gonna wake up with back pain and I know you’ll be mad that you didn’t sleep with pillows.”

He’s right and you know it but that doesn’t stop you from letting a whine slip past. Sunghoon doesn’t complain when you lean on him for support (or rather, you push your full weight onto him because you cannot be bothered with physical tasks at this late hour). Instead, he holds your waist with his arm and guides you into your bedroom from his memory of coming here a couple times before now.

Despite this, he’s never been inside your room. You’ve always kept the door closed but as he opens it, Sunghoon completely melts at how your bedroom is so utterly you. The dark green comforter hugs your queen-sized bed and a mountain of pillows cover the top near the bed frame. Your desk is an organized mess of notebooks, pens, and highlighters you carry with you during study sessions. Photographs in pretty frames decorate your walls along with posters of your favorite music and films.

He spots a picture of the two of you from that day at the amusement park when Heeseung insisted on taking a photo since the lighting was “perfect.” Sunghoon suspected that wasn’t the case but let him take it anyhow. He always considered that to be his first official memory with you. Knowing you might feel the same makes Sunghoon’s heart flutter.

“Let’s get you into bed, yeah?”

His soft touches make you fall much deeper into your tiredness. The mattress below you feels too good to be true as Sunghoon opens the blankets for you to crawl underneath. He watches you carefully as you scoot to one side and make yourself comfortable, wondering if you’re enjoying the side of him that wants to pamper you.

When you’re all tucked in with the blankets underneath your chin, Sunghoon can’t help but lean down and brush a few stray hair strands from your face. He caresses your cheek and holds himself back despite your lips being right in front of him. Instead, he settles for rubbing your soft cheek with his thumb before leaving.

Except, you reach out and grab onto his wrist. “Where are you going?”

His looks back at you in the dim light. “Home, baby. I’ll let you sleep.”

The pout you’re wearing is tearing him limb from limb. “I don’t want you to go home.”

“No?”

You shake your head. “Please…I haven’t seen you at all this week.” Sunghoon hears the strain in your voice and he isn’t sure if you’re awake enough to know what you’re saying. “I-I just want you here with me.”

How could he say no to that?

Sunghoon sits on the empty side of the bed and lets you guide your hand in his bigger one. He watches as you shake your head and he’s about to ask what you mean when you open the blanket.

He feels momentarily guilty when he pulls his hand away from you because he hears you whine again, but he slips off his hoodie to avoid overheating. He’s left in his sweatpants and a loose shirt when sliding into your bed right next to you.

You waste no time and attach yourself to Sunghoon, pushing your body until you’re resting on his chest. He does his best not to let his heartbeat give him away. This is the most he’s ever touched you. At best, he’d brush his hand against yours and waited for the right time to hold it. Today feels like he’s thrown caution into the wind.

Sunghoon puts his glasses on your night table and pulls you close to him, encircling his arms until he finds a comfortable position. Your warm breaths litter his skin and he feels like he could run laps with how happy he is in this moment. You look so cute with your body limp against his. He loves that you’re not hesitant around him anymore and hopes you know just how much he wants you close to him.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Sunghoon says in the dark, unsure if you’re still awake or not.

“What’s your secret?”

Your eyes remain closed, eyelashes covering your beautiful eyes and your cheeks are squished into a pout against his chest. He looks down at you like you’re precious cargo and a rare gem he never wants to let go of.

“I really want to kiss you.”

You don’t say anything. Instead, Sunghoon feels you move your head until you press a kiss against his chest, allowing your lips to linger for a few seconds before reverting back to your original position.

“Kiss me tomorrow.”

Sunghoon hears you snoring soon after.

“Yeah,” he whispers to himself. “I can do that.”

***

comments and reblogs are appreciated! x

[hihhasotherfixations]

I’m thinking about dragon hybrid Price as a dad to little dragon hybrid you.

This is more headcanon style than my usual and a little bit all over the place but I had to get it out because yes >:3

CW: none

Word Count: 1020

Price had always lived a solitary life. Dragon hybrids were relatively rare, and he didn’t exactly go out of his way to find a partner.

Purely by happenstance, he came across another. And almost out of obligation as well as it being mating season, they started a relationship. She quickly fell pregnant, but despite it all, it wasn’t meant to last.

Due to the more solitary nature of dragons, your mother left after you were born. Price didn’t blame her, the two hadn’t been incredibly close after all, only having gotten together during the mating season but not having an amazing connection beyond that. He was grateful she at least communicated her plan in advance so that he could prepare.

But when you were born, oh my. You were everything.

He took you home from the hospital alone, yet before he’d even gotten out of his car and into the house, he knew that a bond had formed that he could never sever.

Dragons were vain and prideful by nature. And for Price? His pride and vanity all poured into you. You were his. His creation, his child. He’d do anything for you, to keep you safe. And if necessary? He would protect you with the world as a shield.

The baby years are tough. Growing horns, wings and fangs is not pleasant. It can hurt and because of it, there are a lot of nights where you’re inconsolable, just crying in his arms as he tries to soothe you.

His wings folding around you seem to work best, creating a sort of cavern-like bubble where his warmth and heartbeat are the main sensations.

But even with that, the growing pains are sometimes too much and the poor captain had to lose sanity in favour of consoling you, rubbing ointment on your horns and massaging your tail and wings the best he could.

Yet the first time he sees your little tail wag when he walks into the baby room to feed you after waking you, all the sleepless nights are worth it.

You were starting to develop into a true dragon.

You stand in your box, holding onto the railing and bouncing excitedly on your feet. Your little horns poking through your unruly mop of hair while your wings are folded on your back.

“Hello, little lizard.” Price smiles, walking over to you. Immediately, you stick up your arms and he takes the hint, grabbing you under your armpits and lifting you up.

Holding you in his arms, he can feel you wiggle, trying to wag your tail - but you can’t.

Because now that your wings have finally started developing in earnest, he has needed to put preventative measures.

Where before your wings were papery and flexible, your tail stumpy and short, now both were getting some volume, the bones in them growing and lengthening - solidifying. And because of it, sleeping becomes dangerous.

In the past, many dragonlings have broken wings or tails by rolling around in their sleep, getting the limbs stuck under themselves and twisting too far.

Because of it, the wing-tail guard was invented. Used to pin said appendages against your body and cushioning them - allowing you to roll to your heart’s content while sleeping.

And now here you sat on his arm, the soft, black coloured cushioning moulded perfectly to fit your wings strapped to your back, your tail stuck between your legs, unable to wiggle or wag it.

“Come on, darling.” Price grinned, setting you down on the changing table and untying the straps, freeing your wings and tail back up.

And when your wings shift and move a little after he takes it off, oh how his heart jumps in excitement.

He’s been so eager, waiting for the day you finally open your wings for the first time.

For most dragonlings it happens around 1,5-2 years old. So you were right around that age.

He tries to encourage you by showing off his own wings. Anytime he has you on his lap, he spreads them wide, and you never fail to be completely mesmerised by it.

Seeing it, he tries to let you know you have your own, to encourage you to use them. He runs his hand down the muscles and bones of your wings, petting them down, getting you used to it by massaging the flesh and muscles, loosening them up.

It takes a lot of coaxing and weeks since you first tried, but finally, you manage to open up your wings and spread them.

And Price couldn’t be more proud.

Your wings are a carbon copy of his, except just a slight shade darker. And he knows that with a lot of training and upkeep, you’ll be just as strong a flier as he is.

Speaking of. Now that you’ve opened your wings for the first time? He can finally take you on your first flight.

Strapped to his chest with a harness, he gently stretches your wings out. It looks a little awkward, to have you dangling from his chest with your wings pancaked between your back and his front, but it’s important to get you used to flying, to using your wings.

The glee and pure joy that radiates off of you when you’re soaring in the clouds is unprecedented. You’re not scared, nervous or hesitant as he feared you might be, no. Instead, you’re kicking your feet, and screeching in delight. You keep tilting your head back to look at your dad and Price grins down at you, uncaring that your horns are stabbing into his sternum as his powerful wings flap, carrying the both of you through the sky.

The 141 know everything about you. Price can’t help himself. As stated before, dragons are proud creatures, and you are his pride.

He cannot help but share with the other most important people in his life.

And oh how they adore you too.

All in all, you are Price’s greatest treasure, and he can’t wait to see you grow up into your own, powerful dragon.

-

I would love to write more for this. If you want something elaborated or have your own idea and wanna see it written, please drop it in my ask box to give me an excuse to do so! ^^

[so-i-did-this-thing]

Hello Nicholas!

I hope this isn't a weird question, but I saw in one of your posts that you used to be in a huge amount of debt and now you're living more comfortably- how did you manage to get out of debt? I feel like every time I start even trying to figure out where to start, it's just all too big to ever get out from under. Do you have any advice for me?

Hope you have a great day!

Hey there! Yes, from about 2007-2010 (before I transitioned), I was making less than $10k/year. I defaulted on all my credit cards, exhausted my retirement, and nearly lost my house. It sucked, and in 2024, I'm finally start to feel somewhat secure. What I learned (assuming living in the US, I also did not have student loan debt):

I had to first figure out the sources of my debt. A big chunk of it was because of bad spending habits due to mental illness (hoarding + retail therapy when I was dysphoric/depressed). Another chunk was from being in an abusive friendship. Another, from being unemployed. And the last, was general capitalism (this was during the housing crisis.)

I started working on improving myself to curb behaviors that led to debt. I started working on my hoarding. I started transition to improve my mental health (had to sell some stuff to afford HRT). It took until 2015 to ditch my abuser, alas.

I started working on new job skills. I swallowed my pride and got an office job after a failed 3-year stint at freelancing. It was shitty, but enough to take care of my income emergencies -- keeping my house out of foreclosure. I got a better job 8 months later. It also sucked and I was in it for 7 years, but eventually changed industries and that's when my career took off. Because with each new job, I've gotten better and better pay.

I started using budgeting software. YNAB is my favorite. I try to account for every single dollar I have.

I started spending smarter. Food was the expense I had the most control over. I went to the salvage grocery store (you can find non-expired stuff if you hunt) and bought the "ugly" produce 1 day away from rotting from the local markets. I actually managed to eat well once I found these grocery stores, and my food bill became a fraction of what it'd been at typical grocery stores. I do wish that I had given food pantries a shot, but I was in denial about my poverty at the time.

I sold a ton of useless crap. I got rid of a good chunk of my nerd "collectibles". I only miss a few things over a decade later.

I negotiated with my debt collectors. I managed to set up payment plans with my credit card companies, condo association, and the IRS. I also did a debt consolidation loan once I qualified and was sure I could commit to the monthly payments. It forced me to be super strict about my budget and for about 5 years I didn't buy much for myself. It sucked, but I cleared a bunch of debt that way.

I got help from my family. I was embarrassed to tell my family about my predicament, but it became impossible to hide. I got help cleaning out my hoard and my mother has gracefully given me generous cash gifts every now and then. Never enough to be life-changing, but enough to give me a mental breather.

I played the credit score game. This one seems counter-intuitive, and requires some self-control about not abusing credit cards. Many people recommend the "snowball" method for paying off cards (pay off your lowest debt asap, then go to the next one), but I went with a "credit utilization" method (bring my highest used cards down to the next utilization level, then move to other cards) so I would see immediate changes in my credit score. What is credit card utilization? It's the percentage of how much of your credit card you're using. A card with a $1,000 limit and $100 on it = 10% utilization. Your credit score changes when you cross the following thresholds: 90%, 70%, 50%, 30%, 10%. Once my credit score started going up past 400 (especially as defaults started falling away), I applied for a secured card. As I started using that better, I applied for a few more cards, then for credit line increases every 6 months. My car insurance rates were tied to my credit score, so as soon as that improved, I switched companies and saved money there.

Mistakes I made:

Being in denial that I was poor. I didn't really look for resources on how to live while in poverty. This hurt me a lot because I ended up neglecting myself out of pride, which made my situation even worse.

Payday loans. I got stuck in the payday cycle for about 8 years. I wish I had sold more stuff or asked family for money to have never needed that initial loan. Once you are in the cycle, it becomes very difficult to get out.

Not going to a food bank.

Not asking for help sooner. And not just financial help.

Not getting out of abusive situations sooner. This is hard, and I sympathize with anyone in a similar position. But if you think it's time to move on, trust your gut - don't sacrifice yourself for people who don't care about you.

Ignoring debt collectors, because I was too afraid to negotiate for a plan. The IRS was so patient with me in the end, even after defaulting twice on plans.

Not considering getting a roommate to reduce costs, or not thinking of doing more things like shared meals with my fellow poor friends. Again, denial and pride. Humility is not a bad word and I wished I had learned it sooner.

Not changing jobs sooner. Curbing my hoarding and getting a better job are responsible for about 90% of me being where I am financially today.

Getting out of debt is a marathon. It took over a decade for me, and I am *still* feeling the sting of poverty. I wish you the best of luck. Folks are welcome to tack on specific tricks and strategies -- this is just a general outline of my particular journey.

[rwby-encrusted-blog]

~Many years ago~

RK!Jaune: *Carrying a child* Can you please look after her? I'm not fit to raise a kid!

CC: Look, you were the first person she ran into after opening her eyes for the first time. She's yours for now.

RK!Jaune: Well- then how do I raise her?

CC: ... you know the chasm along the northern part of the Island? Just behind that tall cliff? Every Jackalope has been able to Jump and swim across it. If you want to take care of her, you must get her to do those things, before the Great winter Comes in a year. She will have to be able to complete at least the first part mostly on her own.

RK!Jaune: ...

~A year Later~

Jackalope Ever-Afteran: Alright! This Journey has shaped us, and tested us, over millennia! Now! Join your Families! And good luck! Uh- Aha! There you are Right on time!

Jackalope Ever-Afteran: Hello juniper.

Juniper: You know my name?

JEA: Of course I do! The Rusted Knight and I go way back!

*Jaune give the afteran a knowing nod*

JEA: Now, Juniper, you have an amazing Journey ahead, I envy you! A jackalope's first migration is always a wonder. I'd like you to join my group, it's been ages since I've had a youngster with me.

Juniper: I'll do my best to keep up!

JEA: That's great to hear! Now join me on ... well ... This side!

Jaune sits on a nearby rock, his armor creaking and rattling.

JEA: ... this Bounding is a gift Jaune has given you.

Juniper: Yeah, i understand.

JEA: No, you don't. Do you see any other Jackalope here your size? The accident that took your family, saved you.

Juniper: ... I ... I hadn't thought of it like that before.

JEA: ... Funny how life works.

RK!Jaune: *Stands up, approaching the two* Thank you for looking after my d- ... For looking after Juniper.

JEA: Goodbye, Rusted KNight. I am honored to have met you. You are a tribute to ... whatever species you are!

RK!Jaune: *Scratching his scruffy beard* A little worse for wear, I'm afraid.

JEA: I'd say you shine like new.

JEA: WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR PEOPLE! IT'S TIME TO GET A MOVE ON!

The horde of Jackalope-people, more animal that Faunus were, began leaping up the edge of the cliff face, and over the natural wall.

Juniper: Well, I guess it's time ...

RK!Jaune: Yeah ...

Juniper: Will you be here when I get back?

RK!Jaune: ... No ...

Juniper: ...

RK!Jaune: I'm glad you're going where you belong.

Juniper: Jaune I ... I uh, ... you know ... that first Jump looks pretty high ... I could use a boost?

RK!Jaune: ... Really?

Juniper: *nods*

RK!Jaune: *Takes his shield off his back and loads the last of his gravity dust into it* ... ready?

Juniper: Yes.

Juniper climbed onto the shield, Jaune raising it's face skyward. All the others like Juniper were bounding up and across the rock, landing on ledges invisible to the naked eye and soaring over to the other side. A climb impossible for a human, and most faunus. Jaune Crouched, readying to throw Juniper as high as Possible, while Juniper readied to leap.

The sound of the Repulsor in Jaune's shield sounded off, Juniper putting her full force into her leap, sending her higher than any other jackalope on their bounds, nearly reaching the top of the cliff in a single moment.

Just before she disappeared over the edge of the wall, she looked back down, staring at the red speck on the ground.

Jaune stared up at his Daughter, knowing she was right where she needed to be, no matter how much it hurt for her to be away.

But Jaune knew he also had somewhere to be.

Juniper was called away to continue her journey, and when she was gone, Jaune to a long moment to keep staring at where she had been.

It was almost too hard to go ... home?

[verstarppen]

A THANK YOU LETTER

an apology and update! for all you beautiful people - 2 for the price of 1

hello! over the months i've written and deleted this letter because i was too much of a coward to show my face after i left. i contemplated if it would be adequate enough, if it even matters. At the end, i owe this fandom too much, so here it is:

THE APOLOGY

i am truly sorry. there's no better way of putting it.

the more i create the more i realise how this fandom held my hand and i simply wouldn't be the person i am now if this blog never existed. i've always struggled with sharing art and writing online, as i thought it was too lame and took the coward route of keeping it to myself and my closest friends.

ever since this blog, i've found that less of an issue. the more i think about how much i let you and myself down by disappearing the more i feel the shame weigh me down. i never wanted to leave, but life has this funny way of forcing your hand when you least expect it.

without getting too personal, this year hasn't been great for me or anyone close to me - friendships died, family members were hospitalised, university crushed me, expectations from everyone around me made me question if i'm failing in every aspect of my life, i lost passions like art - something i've always thought of as my dream career, and i fear the stress will only grow rather than die down.

in some of those harder moments i would always turn to a distraction, create something for a fandom i enjoy to get my mind off things. to see your comments and your messages always kept me going even when i physically couldn't take the stress of everything around me anymore. being busy made my flame for F1 dwindle, too. it's one of the main reasons i didn't return earlier. I've missed half the races this year, yes that includes both lando and oscar's wins, and although im looking forward to the summer break ending and the racecs coming back, i don't think the enthusiasm will ever return to the way it was when this blog was at its peak.

i feel like a coward for disappearing and it's a big regret of mine this year. i can't promise to write for F1 again, but what i've made will always be archieved here :)

THE UPDATE

not great. i can't even lie i'm not doing too hot right now. i promised i would return to writing when things finally calmed down and yet the more stress there was the more one off projects i made to combat it. throughout the months i've accumulated a lot of side projects for different fandoms like star wars, star trek, dc, merlin and lesser known fandoms such as heavy rain, mortal kombat, the sims (no seriously have you seen the lore) etc. that i have nowhere to post. in april i decided i can't afford (literally) to distract myself with any hobby projects for the sake of my situation and thus... i was an idiot and i deleted my ao3 account. there weren't that many stories on there anyway, but i regret it even if it was the right decision.

i owe @wtfisakilometer2 so much for telling me that the people who love the blog wouldn't mind what fandom it is as long as it's by me, even if i don't fully believe it. it did open my eyes to finally write this, though, so direct all your love to her.

so that leaves me here, sort of homeless on my own blog and with very conflicting feelings about it's direction. i intend to preserve it as an archive of my F1 writing without messing with it, but still let you know about my new ao3 and everything on it so i can keep both our interests in mind.

thank you for reading if you made it this far, i hope you have an awesome day and a lot of cat memes in your pinterest. thank you for all the lovely messages (i read everything) and thank you for everything this fandom has offered me. i will truly never get over you guys.

- star :)

[iloveelvisss]

Always Missing You

AN: I'm not stealing ideas from anyone, I just love this scenario. So here we are.. enjoy ;)

•••

"Hello everyone! I'm Y/N Presley, and this is my life in looks." You took a quiet deep breath before continuing. "I'm so honored to be here right now." 'A sweet smile, cross your arms.'

You grabbed the book as it was slid over the table to you, flipping to the first page. "Oh wow, I haven't seen this one in a very long time. Now this must have been late 1958, the first photo I have with Elvis."

You stared down at the picture. You had convinced your mom to let you wear one of her dresses, and she had helped you put some mature looking makeup on, much to your father's dismay. You met Elvis at a dinner party in Germany, immediately falling head over heals. "Did you two stay in touch while in Germany?" The interviewer brought you out of your thoughts.

"Oh yes. We courted each other until my departure in the later months of 59'. I went to University in the states." You nodded along to his question. The next picture made you giggle under your breath. "This was in 62' I had just turned 20. I was visiting Graceland for the first time, along with seeing Elvis again after three years. I was so scared he wouldn't see my in the same way, I was wrong of course." You let out another giggle, looking at your young figure smiling next to Elvis, both of you wearing purple.

You struggled a bit with flipping the page, but once you got it you were hit with a strong wave of emotion. You tried to hold back the tears at the sight of your most famous wedding picture. You had your hands resting on that spot between his neck and chin, his holding you close by the waist as you shared a kiss. "Jerry Schilling took this one. This was both Elvis and I's favorite. He always told me how 'gorgeous' I looked in my dress." You delicately ran your fingers over the photo.

"What was your inspiration on this look?" The same interviewer asked. "Oh I wouldn't exactly say I had an inspiration, Elvis proposed and said we'd be married in two months. I really, kinda panicked thinking I'd never find a dress in time." You didn't know when you started crying but you went to wipe a tear away. " I knew I wanted something more on the modern side of that age. I saw the dress on a window display and knew I wanted it. I just loved the long sleeves and how it fit my figure so well."

You decided to move on after a minute or so. "This was a favorite of mine. We had Lori a year before, so that would mean this was taken in 71'. I remember everyone loving how all three of us matched with the red, the fringe on my skirt was especially talked about. It was a fun time." 'Hold the tears in a little longer Y/N.'

"Did you or do you ever regret marrying Elvis Presley?" Now that question caught you off guard but you didn't miss a beat. "No of course not. Sure there were times we had our arguments, but I never regretted my choice. There will always be a part of me that is love with him, and I don't regret saying that either." With a matter of fact smile you flipped the page.

Only two more pages left. "Lori's fourth birthday, 74'. Elvis and I's divorce had been finalized for two months, and I think we were both struggling a bit. We celebrated together at Graceland for the sake of her though, and we brought out the matching outfits again with the dark blue." You didn't think this interview would bring up so many hidden emotions.

"Would you say that the two of you stayed friends afterwards?"

"Oh yes. We were very good friends, we just didn't work as more than that for some reason."

One more page after this. "This is when I flew out to Vegas so Lori could watch her daddy. We hadn't been together as a 'family' for a while so it was good to catch up as friends, and Lori had a blast. I loved the boho style at that time."

"My modeling career had just kicked off in this picture. I had dyed my hair a light brown, a little auburn too. Elvis died two months later, I had seen him for the last time four days before he passed."

The interviewer passed you a pen before continuing on with his questions. "Do you have a favorite look from the ones we went over today?"

"My wedding dress will always be my favorite from my marriage years. The red fringe dress comes in as a strong second I think. Do you have one?" You asked with a polite smile, holding the pen.

He nodded. "Your dress from 62' is amazing. Thank you for asking, that made my day!" He ended with a blush.

You signed the blank page in the back of the book, memories of Elvis shooting into your brain at rapid speed. He always loved you handwriting, and he had told you on numerous occasions that he liked the way your signature looked with his last name.

"Well I believe this is the end of this interview, I had a splendid time! Thank you for having me and I hope you enjoyed going over my life in looks just as much as I did." You clasped your hands in front of you, putting on a grin. "I'm Y/N Presley, and I love each and every one of you!!"

When the cameras stopped rolling you gave all of the crew members a hug, along with pictures and autographs for the ones that wanted them. As you got into your car a single thought crossed your mind. 'Always missing you baby...'

Heyyy, so this is actually my first ever imagine I made for Elvis, so it’s honestly crap, but enjoy… maybe? Anyways, much love!

[lushafterglow]

Self-destruction is… well.

Chapter Two-> in the terms of Joe Goldberg, “Hello You.”

Summary: Toji is a very very dangerous man. Many people know this. So when he finds his kids missing, someone is going to pay the piper. Little did Toji know was that that someone was going to become his newest obsession. His lovely desire.

Masterlist

Warnings: stalking, drinking, cursing, 10 year age gap

Taglist: @queendessi24 @idkdudsworld

Series masterlist

I silently curse to myself, how the hell could I lose my kid?! I could chew into the bodyguards all I wanted, hell I could kill them if I felt like it, but I’m his father – he’s my responsibility, not theirs. Fuck Fuck Fuck! Where the hell could he be? I walked past where we’d been at least ten times. I continue to scream out my son’s name, “Megumi!” In hopes of him calling back.

Thank god for my height, I see Megumi over the heads of people in the crowd. I started to make my way through the sea of people that can’t get out of the fucking way? Can’t you see I’m coming through?! Once I finally make my way through I pick him up, worried as hell. “What did I tell you? You can’t go sneak off, you could have been killed!” While my son doesn’t fully understand all the shit I do, he does know it makes me a lot of enemies and he does know never to snitch on his dad. “I found him in that coffee shop, no harm done to him.”

I finally looked at the woman who was with my son, I didn’t really acknowledge the fact that she was there till now. And when I do look at her I feel like a damn fool, how could I not notice her sooner? She was absolutely divine and had eyes that were so sinful that I couldn’t help my breath hitch at the sight of their (E/C) gaze. I never really believed in god, there was too much sin for me to believe he existed. I looked her over once again and in the terms of Joe Goldberg, Hello You.

“I owe you thanks.” My voice spoke to her and her response was immediate. “It’s no problem at all really, I’m just glad you two found each other.” She gave Gumi a little wave and I knew that I would make this girl mine, I didn’t give a damn about any principle. It was clear as the day, she wouldn’t have a choice and I don’t give a fuck how long it takes.

“Trust me, not as glad as I am that he found you.” My damn kid could ask for the moon right now and I would say yes, for he unknowingly just brung me my newest obsession. She bid me farewell, and I made my way to the coffee shop she pointed to not too long ago.

I sent a text to one of my bodyguards to follow her to the location where she was heading and to let me know. Me and Megumi took a seat next to the window and I ordered a black coffee while he got a chocolate chip cookie.

The waitress came by and offered me a refill though I gave her a smile and sent her off. I looked back down to my coffee before I turned to look out the window, I knew she was staring and this only confirmed it. I gave her a smile, as if a glimpse of the man she would soon fall in love with. I could see her breathing slowly and I took a sip of my drink giving her a wink as if I were saying, ‘I’ll see you soon.’

–

It took me an hour to find out all there is to know about who Y/N L/N is on paper. She’s a lawyer, has a great GPA, only child, has a seemingly perfect life, graduated law early, is 20 years old, and lives alone an hour away from the city. ‘Jesus it’s like you want to be stalked. Don’t you know there’s weirdos in the world?’

I watched as she undressed, and I smiled, loving the way goosebumps spread across her skin. I knew she could feel me, and I fucking loved it because soon she will be consumed by me, just as consumed I am by her.

Her nipples harden against the fabric of the pajama top she just put on. What a delicious sight. She walked to the window I was looking from and closed the curtains after taking a glance around her home. I saw through the windows as she locked them and no doubt the doors. I smiled my breath showing in the cold air.

–

“So checking up on the locals are we?” The rough voice of Sukuna spoke as I made my way into my room. It had been a week since I met my lovely desire and I should have known Sukuna would eventually figure it out. The man knows me well enough to know when I have an interest in something, or in this case someone. “I thought I needed a change in scenery. Why? You jealous?”

Sukuna gave a laugh, a sarcastic crazy-ass one, but that’s also just his laugh. Fucking maniac. Maybe that’s why we get along so well. “What can I say, I’m curious.”

“Curiosity killed the cat.”

“But satisfaction brought it back to life.”

He titled his drink – no doubt whiskey – and took a drink as if saying cheers. “What do you know?” It was foolish to think he knew nothing, he wouldn’t be here otherwise. But just because he knew something, doesn’t mean he knows everything – I’d like to keep it that way.

“Y/N L/N, you’re stalking her. I just can’t figure out why.” I gave a lazy hum as I poured my own cup of whiskey. “I like to think stalking is just a romantic walk.” I downed my drink.

“Yes, where one doesn’t know about the other existence.” So he didn’t know that we’d technically already met. Good. “I’m just bored, so I’m having fun. Besides, who doesn’t like a chase?” Sukuna next was the one to drown his drink. “Sure.” He placed the cup on my nightstand and made his way out of my room, then no doubt out of my house.

I made my way to my son’s room, my little blessing. I kissed his forehead and retreated back to mine. I flick the light off and pull out my phone. My lovely desire was sleeping, though she kept turning restlessly.

She didn’t know while she was at work that I had placed camera’s all around her house, one’s that she wouldn’t find unless she was really – and I mean really – looking. I turned off my phone and closd my eyes, drifing off to sleep with one thought in my head.

I’ll see you soon my lovely desire.

[viidemoo]

Juggalo Juice

Art the Clown x Juggalo! Reader

An: I was listening to icp and got the best idea ever 🙏🏻🙏🏻 before you read I just want to say that yes I am fully aware Juggalos are not like how they are depicted in icp songs. Real juggalos are just music fans, some of the kindest people you’ll meet, and a family. For the sake of this post though, the reader is gonna act in ways that most songs say Juggalos act

Art walked down an empty alleyway toward the Main Street, his garbage bag dragging behind him. It was after the sun had gone down so he didn’t expect to see many people. However if he did Art already had their fate planned out. As he turned the corner he saw someone, someone interesting. You. You had just walked out of the small convenience store with a bottle of candy apple Faygo. Your makeup wasn’t new to Art, but it wasn’t even close to Halloween yet. So why’d you have it on?

Art continued to stare at the person who resembled him in a few ways. After a little too long you finally saw him. You gave him a smile, and Art took that as an invitation to come “talk” to you. “Oh, um hello” you said, keeping that smile on your face. Art wiggled his fingers at you in response. He pointed at your face then gave you a big thumbs up with an even bigger toothy smile. “Oh my makeup? Thanks dude”

That small interaction would change the course of your life.

The two of you had been going out, if you could even call it that, for almost a year now. Art never once thought he would find someone like you (not that he was looking but still). Someone who also has the appearance of a clown? And can be just as violent at time? You were absolutely perfect!

It was finally Halloween again. Art had the most romantic date he could think of planned out. Going around and killing a few people! You both left his hideout looking for some victims. Art liked to kill anyone his eyes looked upon, you on the other hand would rather kill people who were doing wrong. You made an exception for art on this day though.

Finally you two found a person. Some random man smoking and seemingly a bit drunk leaning against the wall of a building. “Is he up to your standards?” You jokingly said to Art. He smiled and put his pointer finger to his cheek twisting it bashfully. After he stopped he put that same finger in front of your face, telling you to wait. Art reached into his bag which seemed to fit infinite items and pulled out an axe, your axe. He was letting start the night of killing, aww! Art walked up to the man, trying to distract him. Only after a few seconds the guy started to get upset with Art and his strange behavior, leaning off the wall to be face to face with Art. “look dude I don’t know what the fuck you’re doing right now but you pissing me the fuck off.” Art looked at the man shyly, that expression quickly changing to a big smile as he saw you behind the man with your axe, cutting the man’s head clean off.

8 was the total for the night. 8 body’s means a lot of blood, and the 2 of you were drenched. That didn’t stop the 2 of you from walking into a familiar convenience store, going to the drink isle, and picking up a bottle of candy apple Faygo.

[alpydk]

I know you've been back and forth about Gale smut, but can I maybe request angsty smut?

Gale 100% sure he's gonna use the orb at the endgame, but fooling Tav into thinking he had been convinced. The night before the last battle, Tav thinking it might be their last night but Gale *knowing* it is.

Hello anon. Thank you for this prompt. I'll admit, it's been a challenge and I'll admit this is more like 90% angst and 10% maybe smut... You'll see what I mean.

Lose you

Word Count - 1221 words - C/W Angst, death, last night.

‘Cause I’m gonna lose ya Yes, I’m gonna lose ya If I’m gonna lose ya I’ll lose you now for good

Gale loved Tav more than he ever thought was possible. He loved how she looked at the world, eyes bright and optimistic, how she saw the good in everyone she met. Everyone could be redeemed of the mistakes they had made at some point in their lives, whether it be Kethric cursed for giving everything for another, Astarion’s tactful advances learnt from a life of pain, whether it was Gale himself and the greatest of all folles.

But what are forgiveness and redemption with no sacrifice? Kethric had ended up dead, Astarion still a spawn living off woodland animals. Gale had sacrificed nothing, at least nothing he could see. A year in solitude was but the consequence of my actions, not a sacrifice. The crown was a distant pipedream that even if he reforged, he could not wield. Unworthy of wielding. No, fate had dictated long ago what his sacrifice would be, and even with Tav’s compelling words and Elminster’s belief that destiny could be manipulated, Gale did not see it for himself. He knew what he had to do. He’d known since that very first day with the book.

“You think too much.”

Tav was right. In recent weeks he had been thinking too much: of life, death, of Gods and planes, and the pain. Will I be given a place at Mystra’s side, or will I walk the Fugue Plane without relief until I'm met with Kelemvor’s judgement? When the end comes, will it be but an instant of burning nerves as I’ve experienced in recent months, a candle snuffed out without hesitation? Or will it be the dull ache of the orb’s pressure building within my ribs, the seconds stretching for eternity as each molecule of my existence is torn apart piece by piece? Gale chuckled at her words; thoughts abandoned. “Maybe, but to think too much, my love, should never be a cause for concern.”

Sitting beside him, she took his hand in her soft palm. She had seen his scrawled letters, words of farewell, of a future he wouldn’t be a part of, and it pained her to think he could even consider leaving them, leaving her. “It is when I know what your mind often travels to.”

 “And what might my mind be travelling to right now?”

To look upon your eyes, your hair, your skin. To see each curve of your body under the dawn’s light. To touch you. To hear your breathing as you sleep. To make you laugh. To make you cry. To love you and no other. To lose you.

She smirked at his words, the playfulness in his tone not going unmissed. Maybe the letters had been written during darker moments, ones before their night at Moonrise. He’d told her he was grateful for meeting her, told her he loved her. He’d invited her to Waterdeep to meet his family. The future was there and maybe it was her who was overthinking things. “I could think of one or two things.” Tav slipped her hand from his, bringing it to the trailing weave of the orb upon his chest. For so many nights she had placed heated kisses along the darkened lines, felt the rise and fall of his chest with each heightened emotion, made him forget his goddess. And for a thousand more nights to follow, Tav would do the same.  

“Maybe a demonstration is in order, hm?” Gale leant back, watching the way her hair tumbled down above him as she positioned herself. He felt the way her fingertips traced along his chest, his robe removed and abandoned. The tender touch of her lips upon his, the scent of wine on her breath. How he longed to change fate. To hold you close on stormy nights. To see you smile as you taste my cooking. To dance with you. To hear you read poetry in the dim light of my study. To feel your head on my shoulder as we watch the sunset. To love you. To lose you.

Her dress was gone, the candlelight letting shadows dance upon her flesh. She looked at him in the same way she saw the world. He could be forgiven, redeemed. In her eyes, he already was, and she wanted to show him that.

Wishing he could tell her the truth; he buried his face in the crook of her neck. The scent of poppies hung in her hair, and he tried to memorise it. He tried to remember each minute detail of her form: the shade of her hair under the light, the flush of her cheeks as she gave into the tides consuming her, the quiet moan as he stroked her body with the soft pad of his thumb. If only they could stay in that one moment, an eternity with Tav as his goddess, the stars their followers, each whisper from his lips a new prayer devoted to her. If only...

“Tav... If something untoward, shall we say, were to happen to me-”

She gazed down at him, the slow rhythmic movements of her hips coming to a hesitant halt upon hearing his words. “Don’t talk like that.”

“I merely need assurance,” Gale replied, an unwilling sliver of emotion escaping him. Please tell me you will find someone else. You will fall in love and smile at them as you smile at me. Tell me you will not need me.  

“You’re not going anywhere.” Tav was so sure of her words. They would fight the Netherbrain and all of them would survive. They would not sacrifice anyone. They were not pieces on a lanceboard to be thrown away at the whims of the gods. They, he was more than that.

“How can you be so sure?”

He felt the slow roll of her hips, the warmth of her body as she grew closer to him. Wrapping his arms around her, Gale held her tightly. He would not let go of her, would not let go of this moment, of their last night together. He would remember every gasp, every whine, every bead of sweat that merged with the salted tears that pricked at his eyes. When the time comes, I want the last thing I see to be you. To see you as you are now. To feel you as you are now. To not lose you.

 “Because I love you,” she moaned softly, her eyes closing with the building heat between them. She knew there was always a chance something could go wrong, but those doubts had no place in their world right now. There was only the love she could show him, the meaning in living.

“I love you too.”

What else could he say that night before his sacrifice was made? Their last night could not be one of pain and sadness. It had to be spent in the way it was, with heated kisses and stars of their own creation. It had to be the last memory they shared, one that would smother out the darkness to follow, one that he could picture as the conjured dagger pierced his heart. To hear your voice. To see you smile. To love you. To lose you.

[lightwing-s]

hmm... jason getting to know coworker!reader after landing a part-time job at a local supermarket to support his college, might as well to create another alter ego for red hood?

The night shift was over, and for the first time in years, not the night shift he was used to. Jason didn't know if he liked it or not, but he did prefer the company.

It took him some time after moving, but he eventually found work at a supermarket just five minutes away from his home and just flexible enough to fit in his class schedule and his continued nightly routine. It paid fine, it was easy, and it had you.

Slowly, you became his favorite part of the day, even if all interaction you two had was greetings, goodbyes and you catching him staring at you from a distance more often than he’d proudly admit.

You thought it was cute though, especially when you could see his cheeks burning red from far away. So you took it upon yourself to talk to him more often. “Hellos”, “how are yous” and “nice jeans” were thrown around, and conversation casually moved to mindless talks about favorite pasta brands, books and white chocolate while you two restocked aisles together.

He started to slow down his work whenever the ending of his shift was close just so he could finish with you and get to walk you to your car. Anything for five more minutes of conversation.

Then one day he heard from another coworker that your car had broken down and you’d need to take two buses to get home. Perfect, it was all the excuse he needed.

“Listening to that Jane Austen on the way home?” he asked, joining you in placing Oreos on the shelf.

“Sorta blew a few tires and had other issues with my car, so I’m taking the bus and I can’t focus on audiobooks with too many people around.” you told him, eyes not leaving the boxes of cookies beside you. “Don’t ask any questions.”

Jason smiled at your warning, happy you knew full well he’d have many questions about what happened and would probably make fun of you and your so called “driving skills”.

“I can drive you home, if you want.” he tried, silently praying you would say yes. “It’s late and I don’t want you going home alone at this hour.”

Stopping your fast-moving hands, you finally looked back at him, catching his eyes locked on yours. “Here is not Gotham, Jason.” you joked.

“I know,” he said, and looking deeper into your eyes he concluded: “but I’d sleep better tonight knowing you arrived safe at home.”

The cold air hitting your face made your nose grow red and you thanked the universe for the warmth of Jason’s black pickup truck. Turning the engine on, Jason wiped the sweat off his hands on his jeans and held the steering wheel as tight as he could.

“I live forty minutes away from here.” you broke the silence, noticing his uneasiness.

“Down the main road, two blocks past the old museum.” he stated, and catching your wide eyes he added. “You told me one, remember?” and I followed you there a few times, too.

The ride to your home was quiet at first, but filled with a good silence. Once you grew comfortable, you asked him about Gotham, his previous life. He told you about his brothers and his estranged adoptive father, he mentioned a dark year in his life briefly before telling you how happy he is to be here.

You enjoy listening speak, and he’d tell you a very funny story involving his youngest brother, Damian, a pet cow and a bouquet of roses. You also didn’t notice Jason’s taking turns she definitely shouldn’t, or driving past your street a couple times, too immersed in the conversation to pay it any attention.

And Jason didn’t want to let you go either. Ecstatic to see you so eager to hear him, like no one ever did. And when he finally came to a stop in front of your building, his hand started to sweat once again.

“So it ends here.” you tried to joke, sounding less excited than you expected. Than you tried to sound. “Thank you for driving me home, Jay.”

“My pleasure.” he said, immediately.

“Well, see you tomorrow.” you said as he watched you open the door, and before you could leave, you turned to him and left a quick kiss on his cheek, dangerously close to his lips.

He couldn’t hold the smile spreading on his face, and as you closed the door to your building he screamed.

“See you tomorrow.”

[transparencyboo]

A Ghost. Forever.

I've been thinking recently about that strange disconnect to my past I have earned as a trans person. When I was 16 years old I graduated from my old school (as per the Swedish education system), leaving behind over a decade together with classmates I had known for practically my entire life at that point. I bumped into one or two in public during the following year or so, but it's been 15 years since I heard anything from any of them. Contact networks change, people go their separate ways, time moves on, etc. That's a regular part of life.

Still, those connections are formative ones. These were people I used to call friends, although in hindsight I think of them more as mutuals – acquaintances. We didn't share more than broad interests, every now and then we got into fights, some hurt me quite a lot, but in an awkward sense I know a part of my soul is connected to these people through a substantially shared past.

Sometimes I remember them with fondness, other times with anger. And then I realize all I have left of them are frozen snapshots that have remained unchanged since June 2008. I moved on, went out into the world, visited new places, met new people, I never ever returned. Some part of me imagines that I could walk back to our old school, step into one of the classrooms and see their ghosts waiting for me.

"You are late." "Where have you been all this time?" "Now, where were we?"

But I understand that's not true, they too have lived full rich lives ever since our last shared moment. I remember a lot of names, I can search them online and find the traces. Privated Facebook accounts, superficial Linked In pages, the odd Instagram profile. Everyone looks frighteningly adult, like they somehow lived at least ten more years than me. They got old, but I believe they're doing well.

I'm sure one or two of them have shared this curiosity and occasionally peeked at the glimpses of each others lives. Except mine.

All ties to the past have been severed. Many years ago I came out as trans, changed all of my personal info and got a new ID. My old name, my old identity, has been wiped off the face of the Earth. If someone where to look for that person they would find less than nothing. A ghastly absence. Of course, everyone of any importance to me knows about this change. I never disappeared, I am still here. But to the outsiders with nothing more than a faded memory and an outdated name, I must simply have vanished into thin air.

In the beginning, I took relief in this. "Now, no one will ever find me again. I won't have to deal with some awkward school reunion. They can't touch me anymore." But now I'm not so sure. I've changed so much, and discovered so much about myself. The idea that two dozen people are still walking around out there with vividly detailed conceptions of me based on nothing but a long forgotten and rejected past feels wrong. It feels perverted. But that's the price you pay. In exchange for becoming my real self, I allowed those strangers to keep me as a frozen snapshot.

June 2008. 16 years old. Forever.

But does it have to be that way? Can I not mend this? Suddenly I want nothing more in the world. I want to show these people what became of me. How much I grew. Maybe I want to prove myself? I had the grandest adventure, I learned the most about myself, I completed my metamorphosis, no change was as drastic as mine, I won. They become involuntary ambassadors for everything I resent about my old self. I reduce these regular people to demons of all my buried insecurities and bottled up doubt. Little perpetual 16 year old brats. As dehumanized by our separation as I fear myself to be. How I hate them. How I hate that I hate them.

Of course I could solve this. It's laughably simple. I can reach out, try to reestablish contact. I certainly have the means.

"Hello, you might not remember me. We went to school together. I changed my name since then, though. Yes, I'm trans. Yes, I was in the closet even back then. I just wanted someone, anyone, to know. How have you been?"

I seriously thought about this. It's a scary move, I know nothing about how these people are now. Maybe they remember me with contempt as a collage of only their absolute worst memories? Maybe they've grown to be bigots eager to harass the unwitting victim landing in their lap? Maybe they don't remember me at all? Maybe they don't care?

Maybe I don't want to talk to any of these people?

In my mind I quickly narrowed it down to one person who I would feel the most safe and willing to reach out to. The last feasible bridge to my past. The one person I could still imagine being my friend after all these years. I'd known her since preschool. She was always really smart, we were always on good terms, but never really hung out together. We were merely in the same friend group. She was one of the few people I'd stumbled into past graduation. We had sporadically discussed music over MSN. When I was 17 years old she relayed an invitation for me to go to a punk show with her. She had said I was so kind. I neglected the offer. I deeply regret this. Not because I'd expect anything for showing up; anything but, I was already taken. It just felt rude of me. Maybe who I was back then wanted to sever my last connection to the past? Maybe who I am now wants to apologize more than anything? I realize of all the people from my old life, she would have the most unique last impression. As this distant, faceless loner holed up in a dark bedroom. Hopelessly unwilling to do anything at all. To be anything at all.

17 years old. Forever.

I decide it's no good. I don't actually feel strongly about this and I can't imagine she would either. It's been 15 years, any semblance of remorse is long gone. That version of me doesn't exist anymore, that version of her doesn't exist anymore. There is nothing to salvage, nothing to mend. I left all of that behind half my life ago. The past is gone.

I have nothing to say to whoever this person is now.

So I will remain as I was for all of those people. A skewed shadow of the truth. They will never know the real me. It is not my responsibility to reconnect and inform them about what I've been up to. I don't owe them anything. I can't get hung up on my imagination of what imagined specters would imagine me to be. This reflects more about me than anyone else. I am mourning my unfulfilled potential. Projecting it upon the memories that will never go away.

I just fear that one day my old classmates will arrange a school reunion. They'll all find each other with ease, but be stumped by my absence. They'll believe I'm dead. Died young as nothing but their incomplete picture of who I was. Perhaps at least one of them would have the detective knowhow to contact my parents and ask about me, so they could find me, discover my miraculous change and invite me to show who I finally became. I could complete the fragmented part of my childhood and finally illuminate my shadow. I could stop this looming feeling from growing ever larger with each year. But I'm not holding out hope. For all I know this reunion has already taken place. They held a silent moment for my unknown demise and promptly forgot all about me. Without ever knowing who I could've been, who I became.

A ghost. Forever.

/Kiki

[amnevitahwritesstuff]

The Time Traveler's Wife AU.

Fandom: A Court of Thorns and Roses

Pairing: Feyre/Rhysand

Rating: Mature

Triggers: (see AO3 tags for details)

Chapters: 2 (WIP)

Length: 670 words

Companion Work to: The Nights Grow Long

Read on AO3 or below the cut

Happy Birthday to me! Here’s a project I’ve been working on for what seems like forever! 💜

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Chapter One

2 Months Old

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In the Archeron Nursery, a hiccuping sob could be heard. 

Feyre was a tiny thing, still new to the world and yet she seemed entirely displeased with what she had seen of it thus far. Day and night, she shrieked, driving her mother to distraction and her wet nurse to worry. And her father…well. Her father hadn’t even bothered to see her since she’d first arrived, screaming, into the world. 

No one was sure what was wrong with the poor child. She had no fever. Nor a lack of appetite. 

And yet, she would not stop crying. 

Nor would she sleep. 

“I can’t do this,” her mother had said. 

“I wish you could tell me what was wrong little one,” said her wet-nurse. 

But no matter who soothed or rocked her or sang to her she continued to screech. 

“She’ll exhaust herself eventually,” said the equally exhausted nanny one night. “Just let her cry.” 

Which was how poor little Feyre found herself alone in the nursery that night, her parents long since wandered off to their rooms—unable to deal with the squalling infant that was their new daughter—and the servants tucked away in their beds in the servant’s quarters. And thus no one was there to notice when the babe and her hiccuping sobs simply…stopped. 

Nor was anyone there to see her vanish from her crib. 

As if she had never been there at all. 

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Somewhere in the Night Court, many years later, Rhys blinked down at the baby on his desk. 

The very human baby. 

“Oh,” he said softly. 

Carefully, reverently, he lifted her from the hard surface of his desk and cradled her in his arms the way only a seasoned parent would. 

“Oh my Darling,” he cooed. “My Feyre. You’re so young this time.”

Feyre only fussed in response. 

It took no effort at all to slip into her fragile little mind. As easily and gently as a summer breeze through an open window. 

Hello my love. 

And, as if that were what she had been waiting for all along, the child’s hiccuping sobs ceased. She stared up at him with wide blue eyes, even more vibrant than he knew they would one day be. 

There you are, he thought sweetly. You just needed a little attention huh?

Little Feyre blinked at him as if to say ‘Yes. And what took you so long?’

So terribly sorry. Won’t happen again. 

She yawned. 

“Rest now my love,” Rhys told her with a kiss to her little forehead. 

And she did. Safe and cocooned in his arms, Feyre fell asleep, the days of restless exhaustion finally catching up with her. 

He sat there with her, watching the sun rise steadily outside his window, and pondered the nature of his mate’s life and the strange and winding path it took alongside his own. 

And then, far too soon, he felt her begin to stir. That queer and unknowable magic inside of her unspooling itself as it readied for the journey home. 

He kissed her on the cheek in farewell. 

See you soon Darling. 

But just before he felt her vanish from his arms, someone opened the door to his office. 

“You’re being very quiet in here, that’s never a good sign—oh!” 

Feyre, High Lady of the Night Court, stared down at her infant self with surprise. 

“…Well that’s never happened before.” 

Rhys grinned. “Clearly your memory is a little fuzzy.” 

“Cleary,” his mate emphasized with a look. “I was asleep.”

And then baby Feyre was gone. 

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Later, the wet nurse marveled over the sudden change in her charge. 

“Oh look at you, all rosy cheeked!” She cooed at the now gurgling baby in her arms. “You just needed a nice long nap that’s what you needed.” 

“Well I’m just glad she isn’t screaming anymore,” said her mother with no small amount of relief. 

And little Feyre, who could not tell anyone the real reason for her newfound joy, simply blinked up at them in contentment.