#and it’ll be easy to scroll through & understand

[kikidewynter]

guy who has spent the last few days brainstorming killbane & angel lore: hi

[dissociativewriter]

Unnatural Affinity- Part 6

Isekai!Reader x Love and Deepspace

wc: 2.4k

cw: angst, farspace fleet woohoo, military ranks, caleb uses his gun to direct readers gaze to him (i just know someone’s gonna think its hot, tbh it was kinda me while writing it), power dynamics, reader is hit on, reader is called ma’am, reader is kinda mean and lies but its deserved, mentions of injury and bandages, one (1) curse word, em’s kinda weird in this one tbh, im setting stuff up guys so shh, not proofread, i wrote this in one night so im sorry if its bad

Synopsis: Despite Em’s protests due to your injury, you both set off to finish up the mission at Skyhaven. Breaking into the Farspace Fleet to gain new information is no easy task, and the obsessive interest of the Colonel certainly doesn’t make it easier.

author’s note: I actually have some ideas for future plot points now, but I am going to set up a poll as we get close to the end to see how people want me to end this! If you have any ideas for plot points I should do, send an ask :) ANYWAYS, I’m so glad y’all are liking this series, it genuinely makes me so happy to see all your comments so thank you <3

tag list: @animegamerfox @ixloom819 @magennta09 @an-ever-angry-bi @corvid007 @vigtore @ph1lo-s0ph1a @ameili @babyx91 @sadsaidthesadthing @bidisasterforevermore @liz9898 @iconoclastoc @elegantdeerlady @lifumi @auraficial @plzdonutpercieveme @dolledbunnytail @junebuggz @mangooes @anatherone @skulzooka @yuhuahuaaa @nm4565natty @feikyuu @lunia-likes-pomegranet @xfangirl-trashx @glitterykingdomangel @eialovescats @mimiu3usoft @alyssac9 @000rpheus @novaisbebita @coffeedragonhobbyist @udejoenrlddo @lanxianschoenheit @paper--angel @xyzbeloved @rafayelridesfisheatsfish @myheartfollower @nightmarewasteland @feralwolfkat @junni-berry @chiikasevennn @lethalasylum @loudpiratepirate @sweetnightowl @rafaissance @white-wolves-and-golden-sunrises

Series Masterlist

“I understand that, Jenna!” Em’s voice rang through the apartment, anger building as the conversation continued. “What I don’t understand is how you can expect a person to follow through on a mission with a stab wound!”

You watched her from your spot on the couch, slowly fidgeting with the bandages on your waist, a slight grin on your face. It was funny, watching Em argue for you. You already knew how it would go, though. When you turned in your injury report, Jenna had told you to take a couple days rest, but the mission really could not wait.

You were doing it whether you wanted to or not.

“Can I not just finish the mission on my own?” she asked, exasperated. You heard mutterings on the other end, something about the ‘valuable information’ that was ‘necessary to the mission.’

Meaning, you were necessary to the mission.

Em hung up the call with a defeated sigh, collapsing next to you on the couch. “Sorry,” she muttered. “Looks like you have to finish out the mission with me. Protocol or whatever,” Em scoffed.

You shrugged. “It’ll be fine. Thanks for trying, though.” You smiled. Em grinned, looking away. “What do we have to do next, anyway?”

Em pulled up the mission report on her phone, scanning through the updates and data. “This says our target left the N109 Zone once he realized we were onto him. Nero thinks he’s gone for…” She scrolled a little farther. “Skyhaven.”

It was weird, you thought, that to get to Skyhaven, you had to ride a train.

Sure, it was anti-gravity, but it was still weird, so out of place.

The intercom crackled to life. “The Coelum Express will be arriving at its station in Skyhaven shortly. Please prepare for departure.”

You stood to get your backpack from the overhead rack, but Em gently pushed you back into your seat. “Let me. Don’t want your wound to get worse if you strain yourself.” She shot you a tense smile, pulling it down with ease.

“I’m not made of glass, you know. At least let me do something on my own,” you laughed.

Em shook her head, slinging your bag over her shoulder. “Someone’s got to take care of you.” She pulled down her own bag before offering you her hand. “Ready?”

“I have to be, don’t I?” you sighed, letting her help you up.

As you exited the train, you were met with an overwhelming metallic scent. It permeated the air until it was almost suffocating.

The city gleamed in the sunlight, glinting and reflecting light until it was nearly blinding. Skyhaven was a sight, the pinnacle of the future, and yet so unnerving. It was too clean, lacking any sort of character in the uniform silver architecture.

“Come on, we’ll go to the hotel the Association booked for us and plan our next move.” Before you could respond, Em was already walking, lightly tugging you along by your hand.

“I already have an idea of what we’ll need to do,” you began. “Nero and I found that lot of our target’s connections were in positions of power. In the N109 Zone, that meant businessmen and underworld bosses. In Skyhaven…” You hesitated, earning a suspicious glance from Em. “It’s Farspace Fleet officials.”

Em’s steps halted slightly, her fingers flexing against your own. She kept walking, keeping her focus ahead of her. “We’ll have to infiltrate the Fleet, then?”

You nodded. “We have an identity set up for you, but I don’t have one yet…”

“That’s good,” Em cut you off, “You don’t need to get involved with the Fleet.”

“Yes, I do.” You pulled your hand out of her grip, and Em stopped to look back at you. “I’m a part of this mission, too.”

Em scoffed, shaking her head. Whatever she planned to say, she decided against as she turned away from you again. “Fine,” she muttered.

Once you got into the hotel room, you were pulled into a phone call with Nero.

“I’ve gotten a couple uniforms for you two, which you should have by now, but I only have an identity card that will work for Em. Sorry, but you don’t fit the description,” he apologized.

“It’s alright,” you assured him. “How badly do I need an identity card.

The sound of computer keys clacking on the other end of the phone filled the silence. “You’ll need it to gain access to certain places, but you could probably just lie your way through most of it without one.”

“It’s risky, but it sounds like it’s all we’ve got,” you murmured.

“Yeah, we don’t have many other options,” Nero agreed. “We need both of you on this mission, and we can’t wait any longer.”

Em, listening in from the other room, only gave a hum of disapproval. She walked in, tying the tie on the uniform that had arrived only a few minutes ago.

“Nero, I think we’re going to leave for the Fleet soon. Is there any last minute info I should know?”

“I think you have everything,” he said. A slight hesitation. “Please, be careful.”

You smiled. “I will.”

The Farspace Base loomed on the edge of Skyhaven. Tall and imposing, much like it’s Colonel you could see in the distance, apparently just recently back from a mission in the Deepspace Tunnel.

I’ve got to avoid him at all costs, you thought. Meeting him now could be detrimental to the mission, and you did not want to get caught by the Colonel like Em did in the main story.

Would you be able to withstand an interrogation?

As you crossed through the gate, you didn’t notice the mechanical creak of flapping wings above you.

“I’ll get access to their database, do you think you can talk to some higher ups to get info on our guy?” you whispered to Em.

She nodded. “I’ll make them talk,” she said darkly.

“I guess this is where we split up. Make sure to keep your mic on, and stay safe.”

Em returned your smile. “You too.”

You took off through the base, trying to make it seem like you belonged. You tried to keep your shoulders back, your head high, your steps deliberate. If you looked like you knew where you were going, no one would stop you, right?

Just one issue: You didn’t know where you were going.

The floor plan of the base was one extremely well hidden, and you had only gained access to part of it. Unfortunately, all you knew was that archives were underground.

You stepped into the elevator, thankful that it was empty. As it took you down two floors, you quickly pulled out your phone. Although your internet usage was likely being tracked, you needed to check the floor plan one more time.

You left the elevator, straightening your coat slightly. You passed a few men as you walked down the corridor. You returned any nods given, though you barely spared them a glance. If you didn’t want to be bothered, you thought, it would be better to pretend to be a higher ranking official. Luckily, it seemed no one intended to stop you.

That was, until a whistle cut through the otherwise empty corridor.

“Where you going, sweetheart?” An obnoxious voice rang through the hallway.

Your eyes flicked to the two snickering boys near the door to the archives. Of course they were where you needed to go. Your gaze dropped to their uniforms. No medals or distinct markers of rank.

They were just soldiers.

Pawns.

You rolled your shoulders, praying this wouldn’t end badly. “Is that how you talk to a Lieutenant Colonel?” you barked. Their eyes widened and they straightened from their relaxed stance.

“We’re sorry, ma’am!” They recited.

You shook your head, disappointed. “I wonder what they teach new soldiers nowadays…” Your gaze snapped back to the boys. “My eyes are up here, solider! Stop staring at the ground.”

“Yes, ma’am! Sorry, ma’am.”

You clicked your tongue. “Just be useful for once in your life and open the archives for me.”

They obeyed wordlessly, using their keycards and quickly excusing themselves once the door was open. You walked in, nearly shrinking back from the rows upon rows of filing cabinets.

You took a deep breath, stepping further in and making a mental note of the data you needed to find.

As you opened a file on the central server, you felt an immense pressure pressing down onto you, almost pushing you into the floor.

A cold voice cut through the even colder room. “I wasn’t aware there was a new Lieutenant Colonel. That’s something I would be made aware of, wouldn’t you agree?” Heavy, practiced footsteps behind you nearly stopped your breathing.

You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, which earned you a sharp inhale from the Colonel as he leaned in next to you.

“Did you honestly think I wouldn’t know you were here?” he asked, an empty humor tinging his voice.

You were silent again.

He sighed, putting the barrel of his gun under your chin, pulling it so that your head turned and your eyes met his. “I asked you a question.”

“No,” you whispered.

He raised an eyebrow. “No…?” he urged.

You swallowed. “No, sir.” You looked down.

The Colonel nudged his gun against your neck. “Keep your eyes on me.” He looked at the computer in front of you, using his free hand to scroll through the documents you’d barely managed to read. “You’re from the Hunter’s Association.” He didn’t wait for your confirmation. Didn’t need to. “We’ve already caught your little friend, so why don’t you be good and cooperate?”

“What… do you need me to do?” you asked.

The Colonel dropped his gun back into its holster, standing tall in front of you. “We need to ensure you don’t know something about the Fleet that you shouldn’t. I need to clarify that you haven’t found out any confidential information if you want to leave. Now, let’s go.”

He didn’t wait for your response as he pulled you by the arm out of the room. He kept his hand firmly around your bicep as he led you through the twists and turns of the base.

Finally, he unceremoniously pushed you into a dim, gray room.

You spotted Em sitting at the empty silver table, and watched relief fill her eyes as she caught sight of you. The door shut and you became acutely aware of the Colonels’ body heat radiating onto you.

“What are you two doing here?” he hissed. You moved closer to Em as he walked forward, leaning over with both hands on the table. “I thought you knew not to try and get into the Fleet again after last time.”

“I’m sorry, Caleb, but we had another mission,” Em explained.

“And you didn’t tell me? Pip-squeak, I thought we talked about this. I just want to keep you safe, why are you making that so hard?” He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I can’t just abandon my mission every time you think it’s unsafe, Caleb,” she argued.

Caleb only lightly hummed, not looking at either of you. You watched his hands clench against the table, black leather straining against them. “You’ll stay with me while you’re here.” He pushed off the table. “That’s an order,” he said as he left the small room.

You and Em were silent as Caleb picked you up from the hotel, taking you both to his apartment. “I hope I didn’t scare you!” he grinned as he took your bag.

It was odd to see in-game, but the shift in Caleb’s behavior was even more jarring in-person. He was all bright smiles out of the monotonous tones of the Farspace Fleet.

You shook your head, smiling lightly. “It’s alright,” you said.

“I still feel bad. Em scolded me pretty good after I interrogated her when she first infiltrated the fleet. I’ll be cookin’ tonight to make it up to you,” he offered.

Em’s eyes flicked between you and Caleb, scanning for something you didn’t know.

“You don’t have to,” you laughed. You knew he would anyway, of course. As long as Em was there, he’d do anything. But you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep up this polite attitude. It was straining, being constantly on-guard.

“Are you alright?” Em suddenly asked.

You looked at her. “Yeah…? Why?”

“You just looked like something was off. Is it your wound?” She pressed.

Caleb’s brow furrowed. “Woah, woah. You’re injured? And still on a mission?”

“Jenna said I had to finish it out for protocol. It’s fine, really,” you chuckled nervously.

Caleb hummed in disapproval, just like Em did earlier. “I’ll check it for you later, if you’d like.” Although he worded it like an offer, you understood: He was going to check it later, to make sure it was alright whether you liked it or not.

You’d come to expect it, but the protective nature he was showing you that he usually reserved for Em still confused you.

What had happened to make these men act so differently around you?

It almost seemed like they were more comfortable with you than with Em at times.

You ruled out the possibility of knowing each other before, of it being some part of your life in this world that you didn’t remember. That wasn’t an option since Em had introduced you for the first time, and none of them ever said anything to indicate otherwise.

You tried to figure it out later, when you were cuddled into the couch in Caleb’s apartment. You were mindlessly folding paper airplanes after Caleb taught you and Em how.

Maybe it was just some freak accident, you thought as you tossed the paper airplane. It soared for a few seconds, before Caleb walked over.

“Intercepted.” He grinned as he held it afloat with his evol. “You can’t fly without the Colonel’s permission.” Caleb tossed the airplane back to you. “Your punishment?”

This felt familiar, you thought while Caleb pretended to deliberate the matter.

“How about this? You must miss me more with each passing day.”

Shit.

Another Relax Time interaction.

“You two look like you’re getting along well,” Em observed with her arms crossed.

Caleb laughed. “I guess your friend’s just really easy to talk to, pips.”

Em raised an eyebrow.

Was that really it?

You couldn’t help but shift uncomfortably in your sit, feeling like something was different. This didn’t feel like you were simply getting along with each Love Interest, this felt like you had a connection.

So just what was different?

Were you messing things up for Em and the plot?

What would happen to you if you were?

comments and reblogs appreciated! <3

masterlist

[blackenedsnow]

SHADOW X MOBIAN!READER REQUEST PLEASE

Here’s a funny fanfic idea, Shadow finds out his gf is an active 4chan member so he looks into 4chan to y’know bond with each other more but he finds the interesting content on the sites like When 4chan sent Taylor swift to a deaf kid school, when 4chan tried to send Justin biber to North Korea,Mlp rainbow dash jar,the time they hacked a website so the founder of 4chan would be the number 1 of time 100 etc etc

dark corners

WARNING: None

PAIRING: Shadow the Hedgehog x Reader

NOTE: LMAO. This was such a fun idea to write! Hope you enjoy!

SUMMARY: Shadow, in an attempt to bond with you, stumbles across 4chan.... He just wanted to understand his girlfriend more.

"What is this?" Shadow muttered, his brow furrowing as his eyes scanned the glowing screen in front of him.

He had never considered himself a tech-savvy hedgehog, but recently, he had become curious about something you had mentioned in passing—your involvement in 4chan. At first, it seemed harmless enough, just another strange part of the world he didn't quite understand. But after hearing you talk about it with a strange mix of excitement and amusement, he figured he'd give it a shot.

"I’m sure it’s just a place for people to talk and share ideas," he'd told himself confidently. "It’ll be easy to understand. I’ll know more about her. We’ll bond."

The moment he typed “4chan” into the search bar, he realized that things weren’t going to be as simple as he’d hoped. The first thing he clicked on was a post about Taylor Swift almost being sent to a deaf school. He blinked, rereading it. Did they really do that?

Curiosity gnawed at him. He clicked deeper.

Then there was the one about Justin Bieber almost being sent to North Korea. Shadow's face twisted into a scowl. "What is wrong with these people?"

And then there were the pictures. The ones with Rainbow Dash. In a jar. Shadow leaned forward, squinting at the screen as his mind struggled to process what he was looking at.

His thoughts grew more complicated as he kept scrolling, he found posts about hacking, pranks, and more absurdities. The chaos of it all was overwhelming. He was beginning to feel like he had made a grave mistake, thinking he could understand the appeal of this “4chan.”

"How does this have anything to do with her?" he muttered to himself, trying to make sense of it. "This is pure madness."

Later that evening, you walked into the room, your eyes lighting up when you saw Shadow at the desk.

“Hey, Shadow! What’s up?” you asked, casually flopping onto the couch.

Shadow looked at you, a little uncomfortable. “I… I did what you said. I looked at 4chan. I thought I might understand you better.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And?”

Shadow hesitated, trying to collect his thoughts. “I… I don’t think I understand anything anymore.” He ran a hand through his quills in frustration. “Why would people… Why do they even do these things?”

You blinked, your lips twitching into a smile as you tried to hold back laughter. “Oh, you found that stuff, huh?”

“Found it? I was bombarded by it.” Shadow slumped into the chair, exasperated. “How can you enjoy a place like this?"

You chuckled, sitting up and giving him a playful look. “Yeah, it’s definitely weird. But that’s kind of the fun of it. It’s like... the internet's version of a circus. Weird stuff happens, and we just roll with it.”

Shadow sighed, rubbing his temples. “I feel like I’ve entered an alternate dimension. How is this supposed to help me understand you more?”

You smiled warmly, moving over to sit beside him. "Psh, who cares! Just appreciate it."

Shadow raised an eyebrow. “Appreciating chaos…” He took another look at the screen. “I suppose I did learn that I can’t understand a single thing that happens here. But... I’m still willing to try.”

Your grin softened, and you gently took his hand. "Hey, if you find yourself getting lost, at least you know now why I laugh so hard at this stuff.”

Shadow sighed, looking at the screen again. “If I must… But if I see one more pony....jar.... I swear I’ll…” He trailed off, trying to think of a fitting threat. But he couldn’t help but let out a short laugh. Maybe this was something they could bond over.

[iwaasfairy]

kenma IS a twink. but hes my twink <333

anywayss love the idea, fairyyyyy. i adore your juicy big brain

tw incest, voyeurism, dubcon, virg!kuroo can’t catch a fucking break I wanna keep writing this but it’ll have to be in a different ask

wc. 1.9k

kozume kenma x fem!reader x kuroo tetsuro

“It’s really not a big deal,” Kenma assures him again as he forces his normally blank face to show an ounce of understanding, something like a smile painted on his lips. “She won’t mind.” His long, slender fingers wrap around the door handle to push down without knocking — shoving the door to swing wide with a clean arc and reveal the slightly messy, but clean, fresh room. It isn’t obvious upon first glance that a girl lives here. At least not in the overtly girly way, a far cry from all the frilly, pink overly curated rooms he imagined being invited into when he was a teen boy in the midsts of high school.

This is the room of someone a little more grown, with books and candles and pillows with blankets stacked upon an overly thick mattress. A bed you’re sat on the edge of, scrolling through your song playlist when they barge in and your head snaps over your shoulder to make you put on a pout. “Niichan, don’t just come in! Knock first! I ask you a million times,” you snap, putting the phone down to let your gaze shift to the taller man by his side.

Kuroo’s eyes can’t help but slip down the thin camisole you’re wearing, plain undies and exposed legs as you uncross them. You’ve got the overly girly thing down in the way you lean onto one arm though, and the way your lips jutt out do something weird to the base of his skull. Tickle, send heat downward. “I could be naked, niisan.” You say it pointedly, stare at Kenma a bit longer than is necessary.

Something unspoken sits in his friend’s eyes.

After a moment, you push yourself up more to raise your eyebrows and turn your chest to face them both. And your big brother messily scratches under the tiny ponytail that’s tied in his hair, before going to sit on the other side of your bed. “Kuroo has something he wants to ask you.”

His tongue sits too fat in his own mouth. Your pretty eyes flick up to his where he still stands in the doorway, and instead of dismissing them both like he kind of expects you to, you turn around completely and put both feet out onto the bed so your toes basically brush Kenma’s thigh. Who absentmindedly strokes your shin as cat-like eyes point up. Kuroo’s always been pretty easy to get along with, talkative enough to do it for the both of them. A natural way with people, or something.

This is entirely different. Here, he’s made a spectacle, two matching gazes studying him as he tries to chuckle. He’s eyed down as he walks three big steps forward to reach the bed, and slowly lets himself sink into the plush covers too.

He wasn’t always crushing on you like he is now. You were a bit of a little tike when he was still in high school, ran too hot for proper girly clothes and liked sitting in your pjs on the couch as they gamed. It’s entirely different now that you’ve been away a few years from college and walk around the shared apartment in shirts that barely cover your ass when you make breakfast. Hickeys blooming all over your throat and collar and up your thighs that he always ends up catching a glimpse of when you bend at the waist and your skirts slide up enough to reveal the curve of your ass.

He was sure it wouldn’t bother him as much to live with a girl. It’s different for your brother. He doesn’t have to notice. To Kuroo, you’re not any girl, and the way your tits rise and fall in those stupid little things you wear is making it too hard. Him, too hard, too.

As he chews on his words trying to find the right ones, you lull your head to the side cutely.

“Come out with it already, you two perverts.” You don’t mean it judging by the mirth in your eyes, but it still makes him fluster. Can’t help himself, giving Kenma a desperate glance to please help him out. You click your tongue. “Seriously… I was just about to go to bed.”

Kenma’s thin brows furrow slightly. “You can rub your little pussy later, can’t you?”

He almost chokes on his spit. The heat burns up his neck as he watches how Kenma wraps a hand around your wrist to keep you in place, and your mouth drops open. That’s not— he wasn’t gonna— your reaction baffles him too. Instead of getting ashamed at having your sexual proclivities discussed by your brother, you only give him a little sneer, and grab his wrist back so you’re both clinging to each other. There’s a little glitter in your eyes when you pout, then get onto your knees to get a bit closer to your big brother.

Close enough to lift yourself over him and straddle his lap. “Don’t be a pervert in front of your friend, nii—chan.” You chastise, but in a soft admittance sort of way that doesn’t sound all that sorry, or apologetic. “Don’t talk about my pussy either.”

“It’s fine.” You get so close that Kenma has to let go of your arm to instead wrap both arms around the small of your waist as he gets nose to nose with you — and Kuroo admittedly struggles to process anything. Your ass is planted right on Kenma’s lap who’s only wearing some boxers, and if it was him… he can’t think too hard about if it was him because he can feel himself start to stir in his own sweats. Kenma basically brushes lips with yours, before he straightens up to pull you closer. “Why do you think I’m here?”

“You,” your breathing hitches, and now your cheeks start getting hot when Kenma moves below you, “you haven’t told me yet.” Moves- below you? Yeah, Kuroo’s sure he can see Kenma roll his hips against your barely clad body. What the fuck. “Stop doing that.” You’re whining, and looking away from them both, before Kenma casts a glance over your shoulder to watch his friend. First Kuroo, and then the way he’s very uncomfortably trying to hide his chubbing cock by planting his hand in front of it into the blankets.

“Aren’t you gonna ask her?” Kenma asks. Hands sliding lower to grip both sides of the meat of your ass, obviously squeezing his fingers into it.

“Yeah- I- I uhm,” you make an effort to look back at him, so sweet, polite, but his attention is dragged to the way your panties are pulling around the globes of your ass and he swears he can see a wet patch starting to stain your undies where they cling to your pussy. And he’s really trying so hard, “Kenma thought -Kenma thought that I should ask you if you want- or not want-” Sweat prickles at his collar, as he stares resolutely into your pretty eyes and nowhere else.

“What he meant to ask,” Kenma helps out, hiking you up a little higher to basically press his cheek to yours when he places his chin on your shoulder, “-and stop grinding for a second- he’s already noticed you’re a bit of a sex fiend. Keep having your brains fucked out and moan like a whore through the walls and it’s keeping him up.”

Your face scrunches like you’re being treated entirely unfairly, a look shooting to your brother out of the corner of your eyes— but he refuses to let you go. “What the hell, niichan… you’re such a- you’re so mean, you freak.” Your eyes go all big and teary and flustered when you catch Tetsuro’s, and the way you stare at him with a mix of embarrassment and guilt is hot too. He’s not sure what’s happening. These last five minutes have been a blur. Why are you in Kenma’s lap in the first place? “D’you just bring Kuroo here to embarrass me or what?” You ask, voice pinched.

“-That’s not it, I swear.” Kuroo quickly chants, reaches out to grab your balled hand to rub a comforting hand over it. He lets go quick enough not to be overstepping, he hopes. He wants you to like him, if anything. Wasn’t that why Kenma dragged him here? “Don’t cry, please. You know Kenma doesn’t mean it.”

Kenma looks barely bothered at your distress, but does place a quick kiss on your neck and your collarbone. “We can tell him the whole truth now, I think.”

Kuroo watches how you push yourself back against Kenma’s face with two hands and drop back into the bed, thighs spread and wet, sticky panties clinging to your folds exactly like he imagined, and it makes his cock twitch. Hard cock, annoyingly pressing against the fabric of his boxers and feeling so fucking obvious in his sweats. It doesn’t really register that well that you’re wet from rubbing yourself in your big brother’s lap, only that you look weirdly adorable sucking up your tears to grimace. “I’m not telling anyone anything.”

Kenma’s hard too. He only notices it because Kenma doesn’t make any attempt to hide the way he shifts himself up in his boxers and stares you down too, eyes lingering on the way your tits rise and fall as you breathe. “You’re cute,” he adds, before eyeing Kuroo. It’s about just as embarrassing to be caught staring by him, as how his cock twitches again at the way you mewl at the praise. What the fuck is happening? Kenma’s smile when he glances back down at you is so sickeningly sweet and genuine, trailing fingers over your panties and sliding the camisole up to reveal more marks. “Y’see, Kuroo, my little sister isn’t actually some slut. These are mine.”

The room feels much too tight for three people to fit.

“When she’s moaning like that, that’s because I’m fucking her good, like she wants. Begs for it.” You look away embarrassed, place both hands on your face as you place a foot on Kenma’s hip and push a little, and your big brother grabs your ankle to push your knee back to your chest. “Don’t get so shy. I’m right.”

“Tetsuro didn’t know that though,” he wants to melt at the way you say his name. “Don’t be so casual about it. Pervert.”

“He doesn’t care.” Kenma assures back, and Kuroo suddenly feels like he needs to prove different. He stands from the bed to stare at you both, but that’s about as far as he gets. He’s so hard, and gobsmacked, and he feels like he might pass out from the heat that’s running through him. “He came in here to ask you to fuck him too, you know. That’s why he’s hard. Got hard thinking of your little, sweet, brotherfucking pussy.” Kenma’s only adding oil to the fire when he rubs his fingers through the mess hidden by your slicked undies, and making you shudder.

Your eyes find his again, now upside down from the way you’re leaned back in bed. “You’re quiet, Tetsuro.” You’re not nearly as shocked by Kenma’s statements as he expects you to be, so it must not be new. Fuck, how long have you two been doing this? Every time he heard you mewling whispers through the wall, moaning and the bed creak, stroking his cock in a cold sweat… wishing it was him. He barely mustered up the courage to ask, when Kenma cornered him about his crush.

Your mouth’s so pretty when you form the sounds of his name. “What do you want to do, Tetsuro?”

[storiesforallfandoms]

sleepy head ~ harry styles

word count: 1467

request?: yes!

“Hey! I request for the first time so I don't really know how much descriptive I have to be so yeah sorry if something's wrong,could I maybe request a Harry styles X reader where the reader has a bad habit of sleeping almost the whole day and when Harry wakes her up late in the afternoon she realizes that she missed yet another day with him and he comforts her beacuse she feels sad and guilty?(I hope this is understandable bc it's kind a problem of mine) thank you ♥️”

description: in which she struggles with staying awake and it makes her feel bad because she misses so much time with her boyfriend

pairing: harry styles x female!reader

warnings: rpf, more like a blurb than an imagine but...y’know

masterlist (one, two, three)

You had no idea what it was that made you so sleepy all the time. You had gone to the doctor and had your thyroid levels and your iron checked, both of which came back fine. You had taken melatonin to try and sleep through an entire night. You even tried drinking coffee and energy drinks to get you through the day. So far, nothing really worked. You were still perpetually tired.

If you had work or any plans that meant you had to leave the house, you were usually awake enough to partake. But the minute you were home, your bed would be beckoning for you, and it was nearly impossible for you to resist.

It was something you already had a lot of issues with, and you were trying to work on it, but it especially became a problem when you started dating Harry.

Harry would never say it bothered him. He was adamant whenever it was brought up that he wasn’t bothered by how often you slept. You, however, were very bothered and felt incredibly bad whenever you slept in late, or when slept your entire day away. You had such little time with him since he was always so busy, and you didn’t want to lose that time by sleeping all day.

On one of the last days before Harry had to leave for tour, the two of you had planned to spend the whole day together. You set an alarm for early that morning so you could get up and fight off the sleep you were sure would try and convince you to stay in bed.

The second the alarm went off, you got out of bed and got ready. You got dressed, made a cup of coffee, washed your face with cold water to wake yourself up more, and made breakfast. You texted Harry to say good morning and to ask when he wanted to start your day together. You were almost finished eating when you got his response: “good morning, love. i’m not long awake, so it’ll probably be an hour or two before i’m ready if that’s okay.”

“of course! see you then ❤️”

Now you just had to stay awake for maybe two hours.

You washed the dishes, even dried them and put them away. You finished your first cup of coffee and put on the kettle for another. While the water was boiling, you went to brush your teeth and splashed your face with cold water again. You paced the kitchen as you waited for your coffee to cool down enough to drink. You couldn’t let yourself sit down. You knew the moment you did, you would risk being hit my fatigue and falling asleep.

You looked at the time on your clock and realized only 30 minutes had passed since Harry had texted you. He hadn’t sent another message yet to say he was ready. You groaned as you pocketed your phone again.

“I’ve had two cups of coffee,” you said to yourself. “That should be good enough to keep me awake.”

So, you moved to the living room and sat down on the couch. You sat as straight as possible, not even allowing yourself to lean on the arm rest or to slouch. You opened TikTok on your phone and started the mindless scrolling. You figured that would be the best way to pass the time. It was easy to fall down a TikTok rabbit hole and lose an hour or more.

Eventually, your back started to hurt from the unnatural way you were sitting. You allowed yourself to lean against the arm rest. But then the leaning turned into laying down. You were on your side with your phone in your hand, TikTok still open. Your eyes were growing heavy, but you fought against them. It wouldn’t be much longer till Harry was ready. You had to stay awake.

But it was a losing battle, and soon enough, your eyes were closed and you were sound asleep.

~~~~~~

You jumped awake at the feeling of someone’s hand touching your arm. You quickly sat up, the post sleep confusion still clinging to you.

“Hey, it’s okay It’s just me.”

You blinked your blurry eyes a few times until you focused on the familiar face of your boyfriend.

You smiled, sheepishly. “Hey. Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“It’s alright. It took me a little longer to get ready than I expected.”

You stretched your arms over your head. “What time is it?”

“Um...almost 4?”

“What?!”

Your phone was on the floor, probably having fallen when you fell asleep. You picked it up to check the time to see he was right, it was almost 4pm. You also saw you had a number of texts and missed calls from Harry.

“I texted you a few times to let you know I was ready whenever you were,” he was explaining. “When you didn’t answer, I called a few times. I figured you were asleep, so I waited a while before coming over, to let you sleep.”

“How long was a while?” you asked.

When Harry didn’t respond, it was all the answer you needed.

Tears started to well up in your eyes as you buried your head in your hands. You couldn’t believe you let it happen again. You tried so hard not to fall asleep so you could spend Harry’s last day with him, and yet you still fell victim to your fatigue.

Harry gently took your hands and lowered them from your face. You refused to look up at him, keeping your eyes on the floor instead.

“Love, I’m not upset that you fell asleep,” he assured you.

“I’m upset,” you said. “I tried everything to stay awake. I knew that if I laid down I would end up falling asleep, and I still did it. I wasted our whole day.”

“Hey.” Harry cupped your face so you’d look at him. You weren’t able to hold back your tears anymore, so they were just running down your cheeks as you looked at him. “You can’t help that this happened.”

“I could’ve,” you said. “If I hadn’t let myself lay down I would’ve stayed awake. I should’ve found more chores to do around the place before you came, or something to keep me busy. But I shouldn’t have to do that! If there wasn’t something wrong with me, I’d be able to stay awake like a normal person.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you.”

You gave him a look. “Yes there is, Harry. You’re always so nice when this happens, but I really wish you wouldn’t be. I wish you’d just tell me how you really feel about it, because I know it annoys you.”

He raised an eyebrow at you. “When have I ever made it seem like I was annoyed?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. He was right, you technically had no evidence to support your claim that he was annoyed with you. He had been nothing but kind and patient every time you had missed plans or fallen asleep while you were both together.

“You can’t help that you’re tired so much,” he continued. “You told me about it when we went out on our first date, it’s not like it’s something that is new and came out of nowhere. And you’ve tried to deal with it, but it’s just how you are. I’m not going to be mad at you for the way you are.”

You sniffled as new tears started to form in your eyes. “But...today was our last day together before you leave, and I slept through it.”

“Last I checked, it’s only 4pm. There’s still plenty of time to do things before I have to go to bed. What do you say we grab some take away and watch a movie here?”

You wiped your cheeks and nodded. “I’d like that. And you promise to wake me if I fall asleep on your lap?”

“I don’t know. You’re adorable when you sleep.”

You playfully pushed him. “I’m serious. I already lost most of my day with you. I don’t want to lose anymore time.”

He pulled you close and kissed your forehead. “I promise I’ll wake you if you fall asleep, love.”

You smiled and kissed his lips. “I love you, and I really appreciate the fact that you put up with my sleepy-ness.”

“I’m not ‘putting up’ with anything, because I love you, too.”

He stood from the couch and pulled you with him. You followed him to his car, where the two of you went off to spend your evening together. And you made sure not to fall asleep until the both of you were tucked away in bed that night.

[butchyeons]

give and take

jeongmi but make mina a vampire. they have a deal where when mina needs blood, jeongyeon gets to smash. also they love each other but it’ll never get to really happen bc yknow… mina’s dead or whatever. i <3 subby vampires and i esp <3 subby vampire mina! hope y’all enjoy :3

read on ao3

warnings/tags: vampires, vampire sex, light bdsm (i think), handcuffs, strap-ons, blood, blood drinking, light angst

minors dni

———

Mina was dying.

At least, she certainly felt like she was. As much as an undead person possibly could, anyways.

She almost couldn’t remember the last meal she had. Her head pounded, her body was half limp. She locked herself in her dorm, holing herself up to prevent herself from jumping on the next person she saw. Her fangs angrily protruded from her gums as she laid in her bed, tossing and turning, trying to fight off the voice of her vampiric side screaming at her to feed.

She doesn’t often let this happen- but she’s been busy. It’s the end of the year, and her classes were piling up. She hadn’t had time to go hunting, instead being forced to finish her homework and study for her finals. And right now she was too scared to ask anyone for help- she messed up with Sana, and even though Sana assured her it was fine, she didn’t trust herself to reach out to the others.

But she really couldn’t ignore it any longer. She only had one option.

Hesitantly, she pulled her phone out. She opened her messages and scrolled down until she found the exact name she was looking for.

MN 🐧

Hey, are you at your apartment? It’s an emergency.

Almost immediately she received a reply.

JY 🐶

yeah. you ok?

MN 🐧

Hungry. Please, I need your help.

A moment passed before Jeongyeon replied again.

JY 🐶

alright, come over whenever you’re ready.

An hour passed and Mina found herself nearly banging on the door to Jeongyeon’s apartment. After a minute, Jeongyeon answered the door, wordlessly inviting the anxious girl inside. Mina pushed past Jeongyeon, quickly taking her shoes off, before heading directly to Jeongyeon’s bedroom. Jeongyeon couldn’t help but roll her eyes, following behind her. Mina was standing at the end of the bed, her fists balled at her sides, biting her lip between her front teeth. Her fangs were still protracted- a clear sign that the poor girl was hungry, desperate.

Jeongyeon leaned against her doorframe, looking at the vampire with pity.

“A hello would’ve been nice.”

Mina looked up, a sullen expression.

“Hi.”

Jeongyeon finally moved into the room, walking over to Mina and cupping her cheek. Mina gulped, almost wanting to shy away from Jeongyeon’s touch. She could practically hear the blood running through the veins in older girl’s arm, could already even smell it.

“You know how this goes, Minari.” Jeongyeon said, her voice low.

“J-Just this once, Jeong… Make it easy, please.” Mina whispered, locking eyes with her friend.

Jeongyeon just tutted, slightly annoyed, running her thumb back and forth against Mina’s cold cheek.

“When’s the last time you fed?” She asked, ignoring Mina’s plea.

“Three days ago.” Mina answered.

Jeongyeon raised her eyebrows. It wasn’t like Mina to go that long without at least a snack- she often frequented the woods on the outskirts of their college, preying on any small animals she could find before she could get a real fix.

“Did something happen?” Jeongyeon asked, genuinely concerned.

Mina mashed her lips together.

“Haven’t had time. But… I fed off of Sana last week and… It got pretty messy.” She answered, looking down at the ground.

Ah. She had scared herself.

“She’s fine.” Mina quickly reassured. “Just… Needs more time to rest.”

It wasn’t the first time Mina had messed up during a feeding. The other girls tried to be gracious and understanding with her, always helped when they could. When she first got turned, they all often volunteered to feed her- until she got too excited and nearly killed Dahyun. None of them really spoke about it, but some of the others became a lot more distant. Dahyun was hardly ever around, and Tzuyu and Chaeyoung started to avoid her like the plague. It caused a rift, and it ruined Mina for months.

Jeongyeon knew how badly it ate at her friend. Mina was sweet, caring, and shy. She took things a lot harder than the others. It was unfortunate that out of everyone in their friend group, she ended up being the one to get turned.

However, Jeongyeon used the opportunity to set up a deal with her. Mina would feed, so long as Jeongyeon could have her way with her. There was a boundary set that made sure Jeongyeon was always safe. And really, she always had a soft spot for Mina- feelings that were much deeper than just platonic. Their deal was unfortunately the only way Jeongyeon could ever be with Mina like that now that she was a vampire. Jeongyeon loved her dearly, always had, but the two of them could never really be together now.

But, despite Mina feeling the same way, she only typically resorted to Jeongyeon if all else had failed because she knew the older girl was not letting her get her way so easily.

“Did you ask the others?” Jeongyeon asked as she stepped away, moving to her closet and squatting down to search for something.

Mina hummed.

“No. I… I don’t know if I can trust myself with them right now.” She replied.

Jeongyeon looked back over her shoulder as she rifled through some of the boxes on the floor, her expression curious.

“And what makes me any different?” She asked, finally grabbing the box she was looking for.

Mina stepped over towards her. She opened her mouth and closed it a few times, her fangs glistening in the light. She took a deep breath before answering.

“Because you’re the one in control.”

Jeongyeon smirked as she stood back up, holding the box in her hands. She moved back over to the bed, setting it down and taking the lid off. Inside was her collection of toys- several dildos of all different shapes and sizes, a few vibrators, a blindfold, handcuffs, and most importantly, her harness.

“Pick the one you want, and I’ll give you a taste.” Jeongyeon said bluntly.

Mina nodded reluctantly. She knew this was inevitable. Where everyone else let her freely feed, sometimes a bit too freely, Jeongyeon was different. She had to be the one in charge, the one who took and gave. Secretly, Mina loved it- Jeongyeon’s blood was to die for, sweet but not overwhelming. And Jeongyeon was… well, an amazing lover, to say the least.

But right now, at that moment, Mina was desperate- she was starving.

And still Jeongyeon seemingly couldn’t care less. If Mina took from her, she would take something right back- that’s how it always went. It kept Mina in check, prevented her from going too far. It was good, Mina told herself, to have someone else in control for once. It helped her not think so much about everything. Sure, she needed to feed- and soon. But… she really needed to be brainless and broken more than anything else. It was good to have someone take care of her for a bit, to use her.

Mina walked over to the bed, looking down at her options. She eyed the different toys before settling on one of the… tamer ones, a smaller purple dildo- around 6 inches- that only slightly curved up towards the end. Jeongyeon chuckled.

“You sure you don’t want your favorite?” She teased, eyeing the one Mina normally asked for- the thick, 8 inch realistic one that matched Jeongyeon’s skin tone a bit too perfectly.

Mina pursed her lips the best she could, her fangs digging in slightly. She shook her head.

“Not tonight…”

Jeongyeon hummed and nodded. She grabbed the toy, her harness, and, much to Mina’s dismay, the handcuffs. Mina pouted.

“Really?” She asked.

Jeongyeon smirked.

“I can’t remember the last time you’ve been this desperate, Minari.” She replied, moving to return the box to its proper home in the closet. “At least let me have some fun.”

Mina rolled her eyes as Jeongyeon walked back, trying to ignore how her body was practically screaming at her with hunger. It was taking everything in her to not jump on the older girl, to sink her fangs directly into Jeongyeon’s neck and just take it-

Jeongyeon held up her wrist to Mina.

“Go on, baby. I promised you a taste.”

Mina moves slightly closer, shakily taking Jeongyeon’s forearm in her hands. She looks up at the other girl, her expression asking if it was okay. Jeongyeon just nods, moving her wrist slightly closer to Mina’s face. Mina practically salivates as she stares at the most prominent vein on Jeongyeon’s wrist. She needed this so badly, her head nearly spun.

She kept her eyes locked on Jeongyeon’s as she pulled her wrist towards her mouth. Gently, she pressed her fangs against Jeongyeon’s skin, still hesitant. Jeongyeon only looked back and nodded, smiling softly.

“I trust you, Minari.”

No matter how rough Jeongyeon was going to be with her after this, and as much as she wanted to show she didn’t care, she was still Mina’s big softie.

Gently, Mina sunk her fangs down, breaking the skin of Jeongyeon’s wrist. Jeongyeon’s breath hitched, her eyes fluttering closed. Mina began to feed, still doing her absolute best to contain herself, as she drank Jeongyeon’s sweet blood directly from the source. Mina couldn’t help the groan that escaped her throat, her hunger finally somewhat satiated. Jeongyeon hummed, her eyes still closed.

“Do I taste good?” She asked, a smirk on her lips.

Mina rolled her eyes- of course Jeongyeon was using the opportunity to stroke her ego- but did her best to nod, not wanting to jostle her fangs too much and cause Jeongyeon any serious pain. She felt like she was in heaven, her eyes finally closing as she sucked away. Her body relaxed, and her mind started to get foggy- almost as if she was drunk on Jeongyeon’s blood.

But right as she was just starting to feel better, Jeongyeon pulled her wrist away. Mina’s eyes flew open, and she let out a whine. Quickly, Jeongyeon’s other hand met her throat, squeezing tight enough to cut off her air.

“You’ve had more than enough, Minari. It’s time for you to hold up your end of the deal.”

Mina whimpered, her head fuzzy from the lack of oxygen mixed with the euphoria of getting to feed. Jeongyeon loosened her grip, and Mina gasped for air. Jeongyeon moved her hand away, cupping her cheek. Her thumb swiped across Mina’s now blood-stained lips before dipping inside. Mina eagerly sucked, running her tongue across the tip of it. Jeongyeon huffed, amused.

“So desperate, baby. You’re so easy to work up.”

Mina just nodded weakly. Her legs felt wobbly, and her head was nearly spinning. She was still hungry, especially now that she could smell the blood that was dripping from Jeongyeon’s wrist. But a part of her dripped too- she could feel the arousal that pooled at her core, the wetness even more apparent when she shifted her weight onto her other leg. She let out a small whine, finally releasing Jeongyeon’s thumb.

“P-Please, Jeongyeon. Need you. Need all of you.” She whimpered out.

Jeongyeon smirked.

“Get on the bed.”

Quickly Mina complied. Both of them undressed, Mina haphazardly tossing her clothes to the side as she crawled onto the bed. She sat and watched as Jeongyeon took her time, deliberately prolonging Mina’s wait. Mina fidgeted as she watched Jeongyeon’s little show- her mind completely enthralled by it all. After what felt like an eternity, Jeongyeon finally pulled her shirt and sports bra over her head, leaving herself in just her underwear. But those, too, were removed as she stepped into her harness and pulled it up. She walked over to the bed and grabbed the handcuffs first. Mina whined as Jeongyeon moved to stand beside her.

“Do we really have to do this?” She asked, her voice meek.

Jeongyeon reached her hand out for Mina’s wrist. Mina complied, pouting as Jeongyeon attached one of the cuffs to her hand and the other to one of the metal poles of the headboard. Jeongyeon leaned down, her mouth close to Mina’s ear.

“I can tell that the moment I let my guard down, you’d devour me.” She whispered, her voice low. “I know that once we get started, you’ll get more frenzied. And although I trust you, it’s just a precaution.”

Jeongyeon grinned.

“Plus you look hot like this.”

Mina blushed and pouted, feeling a little embarrassed as she looked down.

“Fine…”

Jeongyeon leaned in and pressed a kiss to the side of Mina’s head.

“You can have as much as you need once I finish, I promise.” She whispered.

Mina nodded, smiling weakly.

“Usually I’m too tired after you’re done with me, anyways…”

Jeongyeon chuckled.

“That’s kinda the whole point, Minari.”

Jeongyeon gave Mina another kiss before she leaned back up. She gave her wrist to Mina again, letting the vampire have a last few licks- Jeongyeon was mean but not mean enough to make Mina pass out from hunger- before she moved to settle between Mina’s legs. Mina parted them immediately, a blush creeping up on her pale cheeks as Jeongyeon examined her. The human propped herself up on one arm, using her other hand to gently run her fingers through Mina’s slick folds. The vampire couldn’t help but let out a whimper as she felt Jeongyeon’s index finger circling her clit.

“So wet for me already.” Jeongyeon cooed. She moved to lay down, her face hovering right above Mina’s core. “I need a taste.”

Mina whimpered but nodded eagerly, her eyes squeezed shut. Jeongyeon pressed a kiss to her mound before moving down, licking a broad stripe before sucking Mina’s clit into her mouth. The vampire moaned, her head rolling onto her shoulder. She nearly bit at her own skin, unable to hold back the sounds she made as Jeongyeon worked at her.

If Mina’s head wasn’t swimming before, it certainly was now. Between the sensation of Jeongyeon between her legs, her hunger, and the smell of Jeongyeon’s blood, she felt absolutely ravenous. It was torture in the best way possible.

“Jeongyeonie…” Mina groaned out. “Need you… Please…”

Jeongyeon looked up, her lips still attached to Mina’s clit. She pulled away for a moment, replacing her lips with a finger, lightly rubbing over the bundle of nerves- the pressure was too light for Mina to get off, but enough to tease her. Mina hissed, which made Jeongyeon chuckle.

“Need me to do what?” She asked coyly. “Use your words, baby.”

Mina whimpered, baring her fangs.

“Need to drink…”

Jeongyeon hummed, taking her fingers away. Mina let out a whine, but Jeongyeon shifted up onto her knees. Mina looked at her frustratedly, but something darker flashed across Jeongyeon’s face. Without a word, she held up the wrist that Mina had bitten, right in front of Mina’s face but just out of reach.

Mina’s breath hitched. She began to salivate instinctively, her pupils blown wide. She pulled at her restraint- her body was too weak to break free, and Jeongyeon knew that. Jeongyeon was toying with her.

“Need this?” Jeongyeon asked, smirking.

Mina hissed, unable to reply as her instincts fully took over. Jeongyeon leaned back, taking her arm away. Mina grunted.

“J-Jeongyeon…”

The older girl clicked her tongue, moving away. She got up and grabbed the dildo that Mina had picked out earlier and fastened it to her harness, giving it a few pumps to make sure it would stay. She crawled back onto the bed, pushing Mina’s legs apart with a smirk.

“You can have all of that and more once I’m finished playing with you.”

Mina gritted her teeth and nodded. She knew this was coming, but it didn’t make it any easier. But now on top of being hungry, she was turned on- painfully so. Jeongyeon gently adjusted Mina onto her back, her arm still being held to the headboard by the cuff.

“Is that okay? It doesn’t hurt much, does it?” She asked from above Mina, a worried expression.

Mina rolled her eyes and smiled. Jeongyeon really couldn’t keep up the tough act for very long.

“It’s fine, Jeong. Just fuck me so I can eat already.”

Jeongyeon nodded, moving to position herself between Mina’s legs. She rubbed the tip of her strap through Mina’s soaked core, earning a moan from the vampire. After teasing her a bit more, Jeongyeon gave in, finally sliding into Mina’s dripping hole. Mina let out a breathy moan, her jaw hanging slack. Jeongyeon plants her hands on either side of Mina’s shoulders before she bucks her hips, earning another moan.

“So fucking tight, Minari.” Jeongyeon whispers from above her. “Such a good girl for me.”

Mina bites her lip hard enough for her fangs to nearly break the skin. Her eyes have squeezed shut, her body trembling. She nods eagerly.

“J-Just for you, only you, Jeongyeon.”

The older girl lets out an amused huff, smiling down at the vampire.

“And so easy to break.”

She finally begins to thrust, moving at a pace she knows is agonizing for Mina- it’s pleasurable but it’s just not enough, and Mina needs more. She bends down and takes one of Mina’s nipples into her mouth, swirling her tongue around before biting gently.

Mina is truly beside herself at this point, all sense of shame out the window. She writhed around, the pleasure too much but not enough at the same time. Her hunger was insatiable- she could still smell Jeongyeon’s blood. Her fingers dug into the bedsheets as Jeongyeon switches to her other breast, repeating her actions, causing a hiss to rip itself from Mina’s throat. Her mind is practically gone, her vampiric instincts fighting to take over, screaming at her to just take it- to absolutely ravage Jeongyeon. She pulls against her handcuff again, but it’s useless- she’s trapped.

She’s brought back down to earth at a particularly rough thrust. Jeongyeon had propped herself back up on her hands, giving herself a better angle to work with. She rolled her hips roughly, causing Mina to moan out. She could feel Jeongyeon everywhere- her strap pressing directly against her most sensitive spot over and over. She gripped at the handcuff around her wrist, a tight coil in her stomach.

“Jeongyeon… I’m gonna-“

She couldn’t even finish her sentence before one last thrust directly against her g-spot sent her over the edge. But even though Mina wasn’t finished, Jeongyeon didn’t slow down.

“W-Wait-“ Mina tried to warn, her body trembling from overstimulation.

Jeongyeon clicked her tongue.

“I want two more.”

Mina whimpered, her body going limp as Jeongyeon continued to fuck her- to use her. Mina really couldn’t complain- after all, she wanted it just as bad as she wanted Jeongyeon’s blood. The system worked for a reason.

Jeongyeon repositioned herself so that Mina’s legs were over her shoulders, letting her thrusts get even harder, reaching impossibly deeper. Mina let herself go completely limp, the pleasure of it all overshadowing everything else.

Mina loved their deal. That’s the only thought she had in her now brainless mind.

“Come on baby, I know you can give me another.” Jeongyeon teased as she moved her hand down to rub at Mina’s clit.

Mina whimpered out, her hole clenching tightly around Jeongyeon’s strap. Her instincts kicked back in for a moment, and she tugged harshly at the handcuffs, hissing and baring her fangs. She was just so desperate- to finish and to feed. Jeongyeon didn’t care, continuing to pound into her at an animalistic pace, nearly pinching Mina’s clit between her knuckles. The vampire’s eyes screwed shut, and she moaned brokenly.

After a bit more, Mina’s second orgasm hit, and she writhed under Jeongyeon. Jeongyeon finally let her have a break, slowing down to a halt, her strap still buried deep inside the vampire. Jeongyeon adjusted Mina again, letting Mina’s legs fall back down and wrap around her waist, before leaning down so her face was above Mina’s.

“You look so pretty when you’re all fucked out, Minari.”

Mina finally opened her eyes, looking up at the smiling girl above her. Although Jeongyeon was sadistic, to say the least, she was still so… Jeongyeon. She was still so sweet despite what she wanted everyone else to think. Mina weakly reached her hand up to cup Jeongyeon’s cheek.

“Only for you.” She whispered. “No one else gets to do this to me. Just you, Jeongyeonie.”

This was the only real way the two of them could ever be together. They both knew it, accepted it a long time ago. But even in the middle of their roughest scenes, both of them couldn’t help but indulge in some of the softer things they both craved.

Jeongyeon leaned down and gently pressed her lips against Mina’s. Mina did her best to kiss back with her fangs getting in the way, but the kiss was soft, gentle. Both of them were savoring it. After a bit longer, Jeongyeon pulled away, breathless. Her cheeks were bright red, and Mina giggled softly at the sight.

“So cute.” She teased.

“Stop it…” Jeongyeon said, looking away with a pout.

“Can’t help it.” Mina took Jeongyeon’s chin in her hand and pulled her back to make eye contact. “The cutest girl I’ve never seen.”

Jeongyeon’s pout melted.

“I love you, Mina.” She whispered.

Mina smiled.

“I love you too, Jeongyeonie.”

Jeongyeon moved back down for another brief kiss. She shifted herself back up, pressing her hips firmly against Mina, reminding the vampire of the strap that was still nestled so deeply inside her. Mina let out a breathless whimper.

“One more.” Jeongyeon reminded. “For me, baby.”

Mina nodded eagerly. Jeongyeon took off again, fucking her deeply. Mina couldn’t help but bring her hand to the back of Jeongyeon’s neck, pulling the older girl in for a kiss. It was rough, and sloppy, Mina’s fangs nearly ripping Jeongyeon’s lips open- but it was perfect.

Shortly afterwards, Mina came one final time with Jeongyeon gently fucking her through it. After she relaxed, Jeongyeon pulled out, ridding herself of her harness before finally taking the handcuffs off Mina. Jeongyeon adjusted both of them so that Mina laid on her chest. They laid there together for a bit, just enjoying the moment with each other.

Mina was satiated by then. Her frenzy had gone away, but she still needed something. Her body was weak, but not in a good way. She slowly rose to look up at Jeongyeon.

“Jeong… Please…” She whimpered.

Jeongyeon reached up to swipe her thumb across Mina’s bottom lip.

“I know. Let me help.”

The two of them shifted around so that Mina was lying against the headboard among the pillows. She pulled Jeongyeon’s back against her front, wrapping her arms around the older girl’s waist. She pressed her nose into Jeongyeon’s neck, inhaling deeply- Jeongyeon’s blood smelled just as good as it tasted. She ran her tongue along the skin, causing Jeongyeon to shudder.

“Mina...” Jeongyeon whimpered.

Mina only nuzzled into Jeongyeon’s neck further.

“Shhh… Let me have this.” Mina spoke softly. “I never get to be with you like this anymore…”

Jeongyeon moved her head to the side, baring her neck to Mina. She closed her eyes and frowned, although Mina couldn’t see, her brows furrowed.

“I’m sorry, Mina. I wish things were different.”

Mina frowned too. She accepted a long time ago that her and Jeongyeon just weren’t meant to be.

“It’s okay. I’m happy I still get to have you sometimes, even if it’s just… Temporary.”

She grazed her fangs against Jeongyeon’s neck, earning another shudder. She paused, ready to sink them in, and looked up. Jeongyeon’s eyes were closed, but she nodded, giving Mina permission. At that, Mina sunk her fangs in, breaking the skin.

Jeongyeon nearly moaned, biting her bottom lip to hold the sound in. She could feel her body heating up at the sensation of Mina feeding from her- the feeling of the vampire’s lips and tongue on her sending a wave of pleasure straight to her core. Jeongyeon grabbed at the sheets, trying to ground herself, but it was no use. It felt so good when Mina drank from her. She couldn’t focus on anything other than the need between her thighs, how she was practically dripping onto the sheets.

Jeongyeon pressed her thighs together, letting out a tiny sound as her head got fuzzy- both from the blood loss and from just how turned on she was. The feeling, she guessed, was like being high. She almost never wanted it to end.

Mina continued to drink blissfully- her body had already long calmed down, and at this point she was just hungry. Jeongyeon’s blood was so delicious to her, and she nearly got lost in the moment when she registered a whimper from the older girl. Mina looked up, noticing the way Jeongyeon bit her lower lip. She could feel Jeongyeon’s body tensing, and her eyes trailed downwards- Jeongyeon was touching herself.

Mina couldn’t help but smirk. She moved one of her hands down from Jeongyeon’s waist, swatting away the other girl’s hand and replacing it with her own. Jeongyeon groaned, her head rolling back as Mina began to rub tight circles into her clit.

“Mina…” Jeongyeon groaned out, her voice deep.

Mina couldn’t really reply with her fangs still in Jeongyeon’s neck. She just hummed, applying more pressure to her movements as she drank. She knew Jeongyeon was already close based on how her body twitched, how warm she had gotten. Her jaw was locked tightly, her teeth gritted together as she made tiny noises of pleasure.

Mina loved it- she loved being able to have Jeongyeon just as needy as she was earlier. As much as Jeongyeon got to take from her, she could take right back. She knew she was the only one who got to do this to her- no one else got to see Jeongyeon a whimpering, needy mess but her. A major perk of their system, indeed.

After a bit longer, Mina finally finished and pulled off, feeling significantly better. She laved her tongue over the wounds on Jeongyeon’s neck, sealing them up. Jeongyeon whimpered brokenly beside her.

“Mina- Please… Harder…”

Mina wordlessly obliged, adding more pressure against Jeongyeon’s clit. And with a few more passes of her fingers across it, Jeongyeon came undone, whimpering as her orgasm washed through her. Mina pressed a few kisses to Jeongyeon’s jaw as she helped her through it, gently rubbing until Jeongyeon pushed her hand away. Mina helped Jeongyeon lay down on her back, the older girl nearly panting.

“Do you feel okay? Did I take too much?” Mina asked, worried.

Jeongyeon’s eyes were closed, her face scrunched up.

“Jus’ dizzy…” She replied. “Feels good, though…”

Mina leaned down to kiss her cheek, forgetting that her mouth was covered in blood. She accidentally smeared some on Jeongyeon’s cheek, and moved to rub it off with her finger. Jeongyeon whined.

“Did it get on me?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay…”

Jeongyeon was half asleep at this point. Mina took that as her queue to leave. She gently got up from the bed and went to gather her clothes.

“What are you doing?” Jeongyeon asked.

Mina turned to look over at Jeongyeon, who was now propped up on one arm, a frown on her face.

“I…” Mina answered, her voice trailing off. “I’ll be going.”

Jeongyeon’s frown deepened.

“Stay…” She pleaded. “Please.”

Mina smiled softly. She just couldn’t resist her Jeongyeonie. She dropped her clothes and crawled into the bed with Jeongyeon, pulling the other girl on top of her. Jeongyeon latched onto her side, throwing her arm and leg across Mina, pinning the vampire down. Mina couldn’t help but laugh.

“Somebody’s needy…”

Jeongyeon whined.

“I missed you.”

Mina pressed a kiss to the top of Jeongyeon’s head.

“I missed you too. I think I always do.”

Both of them laid in silence. After a bit, Jeongyeon drifted off. Mina didn’t need to sleep anymore, so she stared at the ceiling, letting her mind wander. She can’t help but wonder what her and Jeongyeon could have been if she wasn’t turned. Even though they weren’t as close anymore, she still had so much love for her. Jeongyeon was always the sweetest to her, always took care of her. They could go for weeks without speaking but go back like nothing happened. She couldn’t remember the last time they got to see each other before then, but here they were, cuddled close as if they really were partners.

Deep down, a greedy part of her wanted to turn Jeongyeon. To have Jeongyeon to herself completely. But she really wouldn’t wish this on her worst enemy- she could never do that to Jeongyeon.

For now, she decides, this is enough. Their system is enough. Jeongyeon clinging to her for dear life while she sleeps after they both ruined each other is enough. Getting to hold her and taste her every once in a while is enough.

She wonders if Jeongyeon felt the same.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Jeongyeon shifting slightly. Mina could get a clear view of the sleeping girl’s face, all relaxed. She couldn’t help but smile.

“I love you, Jeongyeonie.” She whispered.

There was a moment of silence. Mina closed her eyes.

“Love you too, Minari.” Jeongyeon answered.

That would always be enough.

[yaut-jaknowit]

If it's okay, can you have a trans male reader who needs help with changing the bandages after top surgery? And/or needing help. Since you can't lift you're arms up, or you'll rip out stitches

Its fine if you don't wanna do this request, I just thought it'd be wholesome in stuff

Coarse Hands Morph to Soft

Pairing: Mai'tuiudh (male Yautja) x FTM!Reader

Word Count: 2145

Summary: After your surgery, your movements are restricted. Even putting on a shirt is more difficult than it should be. Mai'tuiudh is here, at your side, to be your arms. He's there for you, through thick and thin.

Author Note: I want to state that Mai isn’t being transphobic or anything of the sort. I hope that I nudged towards his thought process enough. He just doesn’t understand. His mind works on the prey/predator/hunter lifestyle. A wound weakens you, makes you stick out and easy food. So he doesn’t understand why purposely hurt yourself to become more like prey. I do like to make my art semi-realistic.

Masterlist

Ao3

At first after the surgery, your mate was both confused and concerned about the whole ordeal. Mai’tuiudh didn’t know how to think about the fact you willingly changed your body. It puzzled him and his hunter brain. Why alter your body, putting yourself at risk for injury and infection? This made you look weak, something a predator would take advantage of.

Altering your body in this extent wasn’t part of his culture or society. When you had told them what type of surgery was happening, he freaked out and fretted over you. But you had sat him down and explained everything completely to him. He knew you preferred to be called by masculine pronouns. It only took him a couple of days to rewire his brain to do that. He still loved you nevertheless.

His concern wasn’t the fact you weren’t wanting to look feminine anymore. But now you’ve come home, weak, shaking, seeming drunk on Cn’tlip. Your friend leaving you to his caring hands for however long it’ll take for you to recover.

That first day, you slept off the drugs lingering in your system. You awoke to find Mai sitting on the end of the bed. A tablet in his hands, back bent at what had to an uncomfortable position. He thumbed the screen, scrolling through the words appearing.

You raised a fist to rub at your eyes but immediately hissed at the pain stinging. A reminder of what you did yesterday. Despite the pain, you smiled, eyes closed with content. It finally had been done.

It taken years of fighting, arguing, and dismissals to find the right doctor who ask if you wanted to this once. Then boom, a date was scheduled, and the surgery was completed.

The bed groaned under the shift of weight. Mai moved to sit at your side, hands cupping your cheeks. “Are you okay?” he questioned. Your eyes slowly peeled open to find your mate hovering over you. His burnt orange eyes were sealed on your face. They flicker between your own orbs. You laughed softly and lifted a palm to hold his lower mandible.

Yet, he sat to far up to reach. Unfortunately. Oh, how would you ever survive without him. “Yes, Mai. I’m alright. Not used to my limited motion now,” you explained and turned your head enough to lay a kiss on his palm. The Yautja’s shoulders sagged. He leaned down to pressed his forehead against yours.

Mai’tuiudh stayed there much longer than necessary but neither of you were complaining. His warmth left once he sat back up. You go to make the same move, albert slower and less delicate. A massive hand was place on your upper sternum. “Stay. I be back,” Mai demanded firmly before slipping off of the bed.

Amused about this new, different side you’ve never seen from Mai, you waited under the sheet for the Yautja to return. His years as hunter silenced his steps despite weight twice your own. He moved about the apartment, just showing up when he passed the open bedroom door. Just a flash of his navy blue skin.

In a reasonable time, Mai returned, arms full of supplies. Stuff that hadn’t been in your apartment before. An accusing look was thrown at the bad blood but he brushed it off.

The items were set at the foot of the bed. He shuffled through them. A water bottle was set on the nightstand next to you. “I’ve been up night, scanning information about… this. You need rest. No moving arms. Can’t shower. Bandages must stay clean. Nausea is possible. Have fizzle… drank and dry, crunchy squares. Those help,” he spewed out and motioned to everything he’s gathered while you slept.

Even though you knew he stole these things, your heart warmed at his determination. Your eyes sparkled while looking up at him. “Mai, I, I can’t say thank you enough.” His acceptance despite not understanding everything mentally was soul-stirring. Your eyes began to water. He stayed up to research the care needed after your surgery. He wanted to help you, protect you.

A grunt sounded from the blue Yautja. His head shook side to side. “No thanks. My mate needs me, I be there for him.” Your arms moved within their limited space towards him. Mai understood what was asked of him and crowded your space.

His weight was minded as he straddled your waist and didn’t dare put any other parts on you. This allowed your arms to reach for his sides. Just enough to give him a half hug. The Yautja purred thickly in his chest and tapped his forehead to yours.

The moment didn’t stay long. Mai untangled from you and stood back at the side of the bed. “Rest. Eat. Stay here,” Mai gave you his three conditions and pointed a firm finger tipped with a black claw at you. You couldn’t wipe the smile off of your face.

“Okay.” Not any arguments from you. He was your caretaker. He won’t let you lift a finger. Not while he was around.

His gaze stayed on you, knowing how you liked to sometimes defy him. This time, you stayed. He grunted and slowly walked backwards out of the room. Those orange orbs of his never leaving you until the wall physically blocked it.

You laid in bed at his order, unable to untense the corners of your mouth. Maybe the recovery won’t be so bad while you had your lover around.

.

After the first two weeks passed, moving became a little easier. For you, lifting your arms higher than your shoulders was still forbidden. Mai was right there for you. He rarely left your side if it could be helped. And when he had to leave the confines of the apartment, it was only to go on supply runs. Then, Mai’tuiudh would be back within arms reach to ensure you healed quickly. His hunter’s mind fretting over how much you looked like prey now. More than usual.

The surgeon had given the go ahead on changing the bandages yourself. This would be your first time. Said doctor specified to have someone here to help you change them. It required you to lift your arms a hair higher than what you’re comfortable with.

Mai didn’t mind. He preferred it to be him. As his years as a bad blood have gained him many, many wounds, he was well equipped to simply change your bandages.

With your butt on the counter, you gazed gingerly at the hardened, navy blue face of Mai’tuiudh. A shirt still hung off of your shoulders, too big for your body. The perfect size. His massive hands were gripping on your thighs while the Yautja peered into your eyes as well.

You leaned up carefully and placed a chaste kiss on the bottom mandible closest to you. The counter offered only an extra couple of inches to reach him. “I can’t thank you enough for your help, Mai.” He chittered quietly, mandibles clicking to each other after the kiss. He rubbed his forehead to yours, eyes closing almost all the way.

His fingers drifted up to graze against the hem of your shirt. A silent ask. You reached down yourself, an action you wanted to do. Your eyes clenched shut, thoughts on the verge of running wild when you felt a hand cup yours. No, you didn’t want to deal with this by your lonesome. There was someone here willing to do anything for your comfort alone.

Together, in tandem, the two of you began to peel the shirt up to reveal skin to the cool bathroom. Once you reached the limited range of your arms, you halted, grasp falling away. But you gazed up into Mai’s burnt orange eyes and quirked the corners of your mouth up. The tiniest of nods given to him.

He finished the rest of the way for you. The shirt carefully pulled off to reveal what you’ve done to your body. This wasn’t the first time he’s seen the bandages but this moment… it felt different. You were going to go further than before after the surgery with him.

His blue form pulled away, his warmth being stolen away. You released a whine and looked at him with doe eyes. He chuckled and rested those large hands of his on your hips. “Can touch wounds now?” he questioned patiently. Mai waited for you.

The lump in your throat was swallowed down. “Yeah,” you barely whispered above your breath to allow him. All of this was just soft, ginger movements and words combined into one. Not even the creaky bathroom fan could disturb the moment growing between the two of you.

After his release, Mai stayed where he was for an extra few seconds. His hands left your hips to cup at your ribcage. He didn’t move when you flinched, lungs seizing up. It was an uphill battle to take another breath afterwards. But, during this whole time, Mai didn’t move. He let you control the pace, being the one in control. Your heart swelled.

Your head dipped. Mai let a hand start to pick at the corner of the tape. It peeled up after the third try. In its bony cage, your heart thundered like a storm in your eardrums. Sharp talons pinched the tape and began to pull it off of your body.

Goosebumps prickled along your skin in reaction. The peeling didn’t hurt, not the way you would’ve thought with a bandage. Instead, it felt strange. That’s what you attempted to focus on instead of what was hidden now underneath. You knew it would take time to learn that the scars would be okay. Only a reminder of what you were once before. This was for the better.

More tape on the same side was removed in the same fashion. Mai took his time with each strip. A hunter knew patience. If they didn’t, they no longer breathe. It was a virtue. A necessary skill to be engraved into each Yautja that comes to life.

Once that side was completed, the tap and soiled bandages in the garbage, Mai’tuiudh stopped. His now free hand returning to its place to cup at your sides.

Slowly, you grasped at his other limb and rested it upon the last bandage to be removed. Mai took the silent permission to continue his pathing.

After the last tape fell away with covering, you shutter at the new cool air brushing against the sensitive skin. “You okay?” he rumbled and placed his foreheat to yours once more. It was a position he found himself in a lot. Not that he was complaining. Just a sign he truly cared about you.

“Yeah,” you hummed, eyes closed. Thankfully, he had you sitting on the counter, back to the mirror that hung off of the off white walls. Your throat bobbed with a heavy swallow. “Does…” your voice died off but Mai waited for you. “Does it look bad?” You don’t know why you wanted his reassurance. This had been something you’ve been fighting for for years. A change, a huge change like this was hard to come to terms with immediately. Like getting a new dog after your last one passed.

One of his thumbs glided across the skin underneath one of the open wounds. “The scars will show your survival,” is his answer. Right. Scars. His culture loved scars. Not that you minded his scars. Though, some did worry you. How did he survive if it looked like his guts were spilled.

“I don’t think I’ll ever accept the scars,” you spoke truthfully to your mate. Said Yautja tensed before making a chuffing noise.

His warmth was stolen away as the hunter stood up to his full height. He towered over you. Predator and prey. “Was this battle?” he asked, voice hardened the best it could with his alien accent.

It took a moment to release what he was getting at. You whispered a ‘yeah’ to him. “Your scars show battle has been won. You won this fight. You survived. Be proud. Wear scars proudly!” Despite being a bad blood, the Yautja still followed some of the codes grounded into his mind as a child. Some morals and thought process like when it came to scars.

If your mate accepted and fought for you, that’s all you needed in life. He didn’t understand a lot of things, like the need to change your looks in this sense. But guess what, he accepted you. He asked questions and went on his way. You smiled up at him with adoration shining brightly in your eyes.

“Okay,” you agreed. Mai’tuiudh leaned down and licked your cheeks, hands grasping at the sides of your head. Everything would be okay. You had your mate at your side, a place he deserved to be.

[aluhnim]

Hello!! When you start a comic, how do you go about deciding your panelling layouts?? If this is too big of an ask for covid brain, how about your favorite song of the moment / a song that really inspires you?? I hope you feel better soon!

I was searching around for an old write up I did for some Original Character Tournament folks who were interested in my thoughts on panels and layouts. To try and answer your question, I go off of vibe now that I’ve made a LOT of comics. However, as much as it doesn’t seem like it at times, I do typically stay as “conventional” as possible to make sure my readers are still following the plot. I make a lot of adjustments along the way. Smarter layouts allow me to draw less, and drawing less is better for me in the long run! It’ll allow me to put more time in other places of the comic.

Anyway, here’s my write up back in the day that’ll hopefully answer some comic drafting questions!

More conventional paneling is a necessary stepping stone because you know your reader won’t get lost and the structure will have you more focused on flow and pacing. It seems remarkably easy to do comics with more “static” or traditional panel layouts but they work for a reason. There’s no real need to break out of something that works, unless you want to! Breaking out of the structure can really add some OOMPH to your important pages.

Some tips, note that these have been my preferences and some definitions don’t quite match their descriptors.

Bleed

I consider open panels or panels that stretch out beyond the edge of the page to be considered bleeds. They’re simple ways to make you feel like your not just sticking within your margins and making your page feel less static without much extra effort. Manga does this quite often, and Western American comics, especially during action packed moments or large splashes.

Some examples of things bleeds can do:

- They can also be used as transitions between pages (first panel bleeding in, last panel bleeding out).

- They can be used to interrupt or add a beat to a moment. Although the example below is mostly bleeds, you can see the one full panel at the bottom stands out because it’s not like the others. A subtle beat.

- They can also just be used to extend a panel to make it bigger. That seems obvious, but larger panels do make people spend a bit more time on them, regardless if there is text or not. Though, “more time” means probably several milliseconds or even a few seconds more than usual.

- Collaging with a bleed is a really great way to think beyond panels and open the space. You will be spending more time thinking of how much you can cram in along with the flow of how your text is going to lead through a series of images.

- Removing panel borders can really open a space and allow for more room without having to go above and beyond the ideas of comics and panels. (sorry, gale galligan is just good)

Gutters

The space between panels is almost just as important as the panel itself. That’s where readers and inferring actions and time. You can only control so much of what the reader is doing between their eye shifting between panels, which is why composition within panels and clarity are so important.

Gutters can also be played with! A simple example is changing your gutters from white to all black. It can be a subtle shift in time, a transition to a new space.

Even the amount of space between panels leaves an idea of time! I think webtoons/manhwa really work well with the gutter space, leaving you to physically scroll and feel the effects of time passing with the amount of empty space you encounter.

It’s important to understand that the gutter has a lot more to do with reader imagination, and your goal is to have them understand that the next panel is somehow plausible.

THIS SCENE EMFIELDS DID IS VERY FUCKING GOOD. TIME, SPACE, GO OOOOOOFFFF KING

Panels themselves can be a part story!

This one is a difficult thing to write for, since I feel like there isn’t many examples out there. There are very structural examples of panels out there, like Watchman. While the 9 panel grid was intentional, it also was likely the only way to deal with Alan Moore’s script effectively without missing details. The panels themselves don’t ENHANCE the story, but a means to an end.

But it’s also an incredibly good example of how conventional comics paneling can still be effective, especially when you start breaking that mold just a little bit.

But then you have comics like M. Dean’s “Baby fat”. Where the comic paneling itself never strays from its original structure, but is indicative of the story itself, representing tiles, mirrors, patterns.

Or Robert Hunter’s “The New Ghost” which he uses circular motifs and has circular panels representing the telescopes sight line.

Predicting Reader Navigation

These are my rules of thumb when doing general sight reading panel by panel.

1. Text is what people gravitate to first. It’s the context needed to approach the next panel.

2. Faces are next, this provides context to what the subject is feeling.

3. Familiar people/animals/objects and SFX.

4. Everything else!

This is an example of sight reading notes I gave to my friend Holocene when we were collaborating.

[demonqueenart]

I think I’m starting to make new connection over the situation. See, initially I thought there’s been racism going on in this community because people are not aware of it. Because of that, I speak up about it. Along with other blogs, I’ve made the majority of the community aware of it and more and more people speak up about it. But dnp still haven’t addressed anything. And I thought it was because they’re afraid it’ll ruin their branding or smth if they were to address their mistakes. But I thought over it and I realized that none of these things were major enough to ruin them, if that makes sense. Calling latam country a third world country? Bad, hurt a lot of people, but they could have easily apologized for that by saying it’s a learnt term for them. Not addressing why they couldn’t go to other continents? They could have made points why it’s impossible for them to do that. But them ignoring poc fans when a lot of us are hurting strikes as odd to me. If it’s easy for them to address their mistakes and they still didn’t do it anyway, then what if they didn’t address any of these things because they didn’t stand by it? I could always speak up, educate, and make it a safe space for them to discuss things. But if they still choose to ignore this, what does that make of them? If they’re proper big giant racists who maliciously do this, if the foundation of this community is rotten, then is there saving this community at all?

Auto-message: This ask’s purpose is to acknowledge dnp’s past/present exclusivity, not to cancel them! But to embrace mistakes that they’ve made so that 1. we won’t exclude people in need in this community, and 2. we can normalize bringing up exclusivity so that improvement can happen. Hopefully this will one day help dnp realize that this is a safe space for them to talk about their mistakes, so that this space can become safe for people of all kinds too <3

*If you don’t understand what is happening, scroll through my blog for context. And I’ll be taking time to answer my asks, so don’t think I’m ignoring youuu*

[darksigns-exe]

Sweet Like Honey - Secrets I Have Held

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of infidelity Word Count: 2.7 k Note: I wanted you to have both sides of the story. This is Noah's side of To Be Caught Adrift.

Read on AO3

Noah shouldn’t have picked up the phone in the first place. Her name on the screen should have been enough of an indicator for him to just throw the damn thing out of the window. But no. Like the damn fool he was, he’d picked it up, answered the call and listened to her excuses. Vic’s honeyed words had wrapped around his mind, and he’d almost agreed to see her again. 

Almost. 

This wasn’t the first time, either. She’d called the week before as well, had texted in between. Noah knew what he had seen. The image had burned itself into his brain. The writhing bodies on top of his bed were a near-permanent fixture of his sleeping hours now. He tries to bury it beneath the excitement for the tour, but then she texts him again, and it’s all he can think about again. 

It hadn’t been just bad. When they were good, they were really good. Was it love? In retrospect, he wasn’t so sure any more. They’d been more fast and loose than he would have liked, but as far as he’d been aware they were exclusive. Obviously, she’d seen that a little differently. He tries to count his losses and tally them up against the good things that’ll wait for him up the road. Emphasis on trying because he’s only moderately successful with it. They’ll be going on tour, the biggest one to date, the album is selling well, people love it. There isn’t a lot more than he could ask for. 

But that doesn’t stop him from wanting more. It’s a little selfish because he’s only met Bee once, but he can’t stop thinking about how easy those few hours had felt. He wants to learn all of her secrets, understand every furrow of her brow and how to undo it. It’s a little stupid because Noah doesn’t know a whole lot about her, but what he knows is already enough to have him running after her like a lovesick puppy. 

He doesn’t know what it is about this girl, but in the brief time they’d spent together, she’d managed to worm her way into his thoughts like nothing else. It doesn’t matter how hard he tries not to think about it, she always finds her way back — Nick and Tasha certainly don’t help when they talk about her. 

It's a welcomed distraction. He’d rather think about the pretty girl with her big ideas than whatever had happened in his bedroom. Maybe that’s why he keeps coming back to it. If she’d at least had the decency to fuck that other guy in her own home, maybe he’d be able to get over it already. But what kind of person do you have to be to cheat on your partner in their bed in a house that you don’t live in? 

Noah finally forces himself out of the studio in the back of the house and up the stairs. Thankfully, neither Nick nor Mari comment on his sudden appearance when he passes by them in the living room. Although, Mari gives him that look she’d thrown his way a few times. Thinly veiled pity and that even less veiled distaste for his ex. In a way, he was glad that Mari hadn’t been here when he’d found out.

He strips the bed down to its barest bones. If he washes it again, maybe it’ll go away this time. 

He passes the time until the washing machine is done, scrolling through his phone. A day-old picture of Nick, Mari, Tash and her follows some band's tour announcement. 

They’d been down at the beach, Nick looking more displeased than the girls to be out in the sun like that, but they seemed to be having a good time. Noah faintly remembers Nick asking him if he’d want to come with them. If he’d known that she’d be there, maybe he’d come — not that he doesn’t want to spend time with his friends, but sometimes he can’t quiet the voice in the back of his mind that keeps him inside. 

Noah taps the screen to see who is tagged in the picture. To his luck, Tasha is very diligent about this and three little name bubbles pop up on the screen. He easily recognises Nick and Maris’ usernames. The third one is a new. 

lisbethsander

It’s right there, hovering above her head. It feels a little invasive, even though her profile is public, and he’s friends with her friends, so really why shouldn’t he. A lot of the pictures of her profile seem to be of her research, with ones of friends, her cat and the odd vinyl record scattered in between them. There are places he has never heard of that she talks about with so much passion. Ruined remnants of things at surely were impressive at some point – not that they’re not impressive now. Some of it he can piece together, but a lot of it just flies right above his head. 

Lisbeth Sander.

He rolls the name around his mind for a while. It suits her. 

Finding her name like this feels a little odd, though. It feels as if he’s invading her privacy in some way. The longer he scrolls through her posts, the more he feels as if he’s gaining, at least, a little bit of an insight into her life. He finds a video of when she got a tattoo from Tasha, they’re laughing, singing along so poorly to the song playing over the sound system. Whenever the camera catches a glimpse of her, his chest feels that little bit tighter. 

He doesn’t know why he feels so hesitant. They got along well, she’s friends with his friends. It wouldn’t be weird if he would follow her. 

Vic hadn’t liked it when he’d spent time with other women. Tasha had rarely been over while they were together, and Mari had a very clear stance on the woman from the moment they’d met for the first time. 

That should have been enough of a sign. 

He taps the button before he can change his mind and tosses his phone onto the desk. 

Sometimes the voice in his head still sounds a little like Vic. It’s an awful, demanding thing. Maybe it had been just bad. Maybe the good had been the bits he had filled on his own. 

She’d been the one to ruin it, he tells himself. No matter how unapproachable he might have been at certain points during their stint, none of it justified fucking a shared friend in his bed. 

By the time he has dressed the bed again, it’s almost five. Nick had informed him at some point that most of them would head out for a couple of drinks later, which Noah had politely declined. Now that he’s alone in the house, he thinks that he should have gone with them. Maybe the distraction would have been good for him. They always go to the same place, so really there’s nothing stopping him from just joining the rest. The drive isn’t too long. 

He has to park a bit away from the bar. It is the middle of the week, but the place is usually packed. The campus isn’t too far from here either, so he figures that a lot of them will pile into the local bars as well, regardless of the weekday. Noah briefly wonders if Bee comes here sometimes. He’s never seen her when they go, maybe she’s not one for bars. 

The walk isn’t too bad. The air isn’t fresh, but it still feels good to not be cooped up inside for once. It’s starting to get really dark when he reaches the building. The light inside pours out onto the street. And he finds himself stuck in his tracks in front of the large window.

He watches the group — his group. He finds her almost immediately. She’s sitting between Tasha and Jolly. The latter has her wrapped up in a conversation about god knows what. For a brief moment, he feels like an outsider, like he doesn’t belong in there with the rest of them. It clutches at his chest, threatens to burrow itself back into the marrow of his bones. 

But the feeling quickly develops into something warmer. They’re all in there, the whole lot of them. Everyone he holds dear is gathered in one place. He tries not to let himself believe that they’re having a good time because isn’t there, that the laughter would still be there if he was in there with them. 

His eyes find Bee once again. The last time he had seen her, he had been too close to take it all in properly. It’s almost like he’s viewing a painting from the proper distance now, instead of standing right in front of it with his nose pressed up against the glass. He wonders if she's even aware of the magnetism she possesses, how people flock around her when she talks with that bright, burning passion. He hasn’t met a lot of people who manage to draw in crowds like that and still remain likeable enough for him to want to spend time with them. But then there’s Bee and that —

He’s fucked. 

Completely. 

Surely this is just a way for his brain to distract itself from the actual emotions that still mess with his sleep schedule. And even if this is something else, he’s hardly in the position to get involved with someone again. 

He watches as she detaches herself from the group and heads towards the counter for another drink. 

Noah slips into the door before she notices him lingering outside like some kind of creep. Instead of heading to the back to the rest of them, he sidles up next to Bee at the bar. 

“Who do we have here?”

Her head whips around, loose strands of hair falling from that already too loose ponytail. A range of emotions races across her face, and for a second he thinks that the surprise on her face is of the bad kind. 

“Didn’t know that you’d be here.” 

They talk for a while, and it’s just as easy as the first time. He wants to ask so many things. Burning questions that suddenly feel too invasive to ask now that they’re not really alone. It’s wrong, but he wants to keep her secluded to that quiet place where it’s just them, where he’s the only one that gets to listen to her. 

They do eventually join the rest at the back of the bar. He doesn’t miss the look Jolly throws him, but he tries not to think about it. He knows that he has to be careful. The feeling that is growing in his chest could easily turn bitter again. Noah is aware that the wound Vic has left behind in his chest is still too fresh to let someone else in. 

It doesn’t matter how long he tries to deny it. 

The damage is done, and now he has to deal with the fallout of it. 

Noah forces himself out of his thoughts. 

He’s surrounded by friends, if he keeps himself here, maybe he won’t drift back into that headspace. He listens to the stories people share, the jokes they’re telling, and he lets himself enjoy it. It doesn’t fix everything immediately, but it takes away some of the ache. He feels a little bit warmer, a little less caged in. 

The warmth rises further when he feels a set of eyes bore into him. Across from him, Bee seems to be entirely narrowed in on him. She stares – unblinkingly – for a little moment longer before her focus breaks and her cheeks turn bright pink. The brief trace of embarrassment dissipates quickly. She looks so awfully caught and – 

He knows the look her face devolves into.

Noah pushes himself up from the sofa he has sunk into. He stops by the armchair Bee is placed in “I’m getting more drinks, coming with?” 

She blinks up at him a few times before following him. 

He heads straight towards the far end of the counter, that so far is still empty. 

“What —”

“I know that look.” he tries to convey a sense of calm, “You don’t have to explain it.” 

Instead of the drinks he said he’d get, he orders a glass of water, the rest of them can wait. 

“This isn’t for you, huh?” he takes a look around the somewhat crowded room. 

They’d had this talk before, but he needs her to know that he understands the feeling that clutches at her. 

“Just a bad day.” 

Noah has used that same excuse often enough to know that this isn’t just a bad day. But he won’t pry, if she wants to share she will. 

“If it makes you feel better, I’m glad you came.” 

He doesn’t miss the little smile on her face. 

Noah watches as she downs most of her water in one go. He wants to ask how her week has been, if she’d thought about them as much as he had, but if he lets himself indulge in this feeling he runs the risk of either of them getting hurt. 

“I still have your sweater.” she says quietly. 

“Oh?”

He’d hardly thought about anything else. 

“I can go get it. My place isn’t too far from here.” 

The words are so rushed that he almost thinks that she’s trying to get rid of it. But with the way her fingers prick at the skin of her palm, he’s sure that it’s just nerves. 

“You really don’t have to.” 

“I wasn’t going to stay that long anyway. I have to work tomorrow, and I’ve already had a long day.” 

It’s adorable, he has to admit that. She’s trying so hard not to be a burden, not to be a cause for disruption when he wants nothing else. 

And worst of all, he doesn’t want her to go just yet. 

“I can walk you home.” he offers instead. 

It’s a two-in-one deal, really. He’ll get to be around her for a moment longer and maybe if he plays his cards right, he can get his hands on her number. 

She really doesn’t live too far from the bar. It’s just a short and sweet ten-minute walk before she stops in front of an older, multi-story building. 

“This is me.” She says, fishing a clunky set of keys from her back, “I’ll just pop upstairs and get the sweater.”

Noah gathers his wits. It’s not as if he hasn’t practised the line the entire way here.

“How about this…how about instead of that sweater you just give me your number, and we call it even?” 

It still comes out a little shakier than he had hoped. 

“You don’t want that back?” 

“Keep it. It looked good on you.” 

Her eyes find the ground in a futile attempt to hide the flush of her cheeks. She takes the phone from his hand anyway. Noah keeps his eyes trained on her while she types her number into it. 

He could watch her for hours. 

Their goodbyes are brief, but Noah waits until a light upstairs flicks on. Before he leaves, he snaps an admittedly dumb picture of himself and sends it to her. It’s easier than the words he wants to say. It’s still too tender. He doesn’t even know if she’d want him like that. 

Noah doesn’t go back to the bar, instead he takes the long route home. He values the company of his friends, but right now he needs the silence. He doesn’t know if he needs time to think or shut his brain off entirely. Neither option sounds like the best right now. 

He trots up the stairs and finds his way into his bedroom. Noah lets himself sink into the mattress of his bed. He lies in the silence for a while. It should feel bad to put Vic behind him so quickly. She made it easy, though. There’s no coming back from that. Even if it turns out that Bee isn’t interested in him after all, he needs to get over this mess, for his own sake. The tour will help, he’s sure of that, if anything it’ll take his mind off of it. 

When he picks up his phone to text Nick that he has gone back home, there’s a reply from Bee. A picture of her in the hoodie, the hood pulled up over her head and half of her face hidden behind her fingers. 

And wishes that it wouldn’t make him feel inside as warm as it does. 

[sabraeal]

At Your Command, Chapter 2

[Read on AO3]

They’ve got two guards at the gate— well, two that he can see, though he doesn’t doubt there’s a dozen more posted around this entrance, up on parapets and spying through towers, yucking it up each time some courtier acts out the inciting event in one of those puppet shows in the market. There’s a younger one— fair as any prince, at least by the etchings in the paper— his hat just scarcely too large to sit above his ears. An idiot, by the looks of things. An easy dupe.

The other one, though—

“Revoked?” The older guard sits back in his hips, eyeing the Marquis’s order— and his scar— with a hefty amount of skepticism. “Out of nowhere.”

Out of all the expressions he bends his face into, patronizing smile isn’t part of his regular vocabulary. It’s a real tussle between the muscles and teeth to keep it there instead of gritting down to a grimace. Gate guards aren’t meant to question noble couriers, especially not ones that come around flashing royal seals and dropping titles with more history than the palace itself, but here he is, standing in front of the only soldier with more than two thoughts to clack together to make a spark. Any minute now, this guy’s going to bark out an “Explain!” and he’ll have to dance the dangerous edge between obeying the letter of the law and defying its intent.

Or at least he would, if he wasn’t wearing this nice little uniform.

“Enough.” His teeth snap around the word with every ounce of authority the Marquis’s crest lends him. It’s not much this many rungs down the ladder, but it’s more than these chuckleheads have. “No objections.”

Oh, he makes a good show of barking and gnashing, but he might well be one of those little pillow dogs the ladies keep for all the good it does him. Now even the dupe’s got a wary look in his eyes, jaw setting the way it does before people start asking him things like, can I see your credentials, and what did you say your name is again.

Ha, he’d heard the Elder Highness ran a tight ship, but this is something else. Daddy might have let his lords throw their weight around, bullying the poor boys on door duty as if it were one of those divine rights passed down to them on high, but it seems at least this apple got flung far from the tree. Part of him’s impressed, he’s got to admit, but the other part—

The other part’s got a job to do. And, if this goes on any longer, a real nasty itch to scratch.

“Please try to understand”— he’s a study in softness now, pressing a hand to his heart, shoulders taking the same pleading tilt as his brow— “how this decision must have pained His Highness.”

The dupe’s all eyes now, wide and trembling, real taken with the idea of some princeling’s struggle with his tender emotions. But the older guard shifts his weight, arms crossed, and frowns. It’ll take more than a few tears and tugged heartstrings to get this guy to swallow a story.

Good thing he doesn’t have to. All he’s got to do is lean close, squinting down at the elegant sweep of the Marquis’s signature across the page, and he sees it too: it’s legal. However the hero here feels about this particular little prescript, putting it to question is well above his paygrade. At least so long as it’s the old king’s cousin who’s got his name slapped on it as co-signer.

“Well.” The scroll snaps shut in his hand, and he flashes the hero the sort of grin found on a knife’s edge. “That will be all.”

It’s new to him, walking away like this— lofty chin and step so springy he might looking into a high horse when all is said and done. A guy could get used to this sort of thing, no to mention the weight of his purse and the promise of enough food to fill him. All he’s got to do now is get back to His Grace and—

“Wait!” the older one shouts, giving him one hobbled step before he adds, “Get back here!”

It’s the sort of shout that could be for anyone— hell, he’s half convinced it’s not even him, up until his heels start sticking to the pavement, not so much holding him in place as making it a real hassle to saunter off with any style. Give the guy a few years and maybe he’d get enough gravitas to haul him up short, but as it is, he’s an annoyance rather than a threat. The kind that’s got him gritting his teeth to keep that servile smile on his face. “Excuse me. Is there—?”

“We’ve got to tell the prince.” It’s the younger one who says it— whispers it, really, the way mummers do on stage, loud enough to be heard all the way in the eaves— eyes anxiously aimed at his superior.

It’s a miracle he manages to grit out, “Tell the prince what?”

“It’s Lady Shirayuki,” the older one replies, not possessed with the same sense of urgency as his partner. In fact, he’s downright leisurely when he adds, “She forgot a book in the prince’s office and came back to get it.”

“It was just before you came, sir!” The idiot’s practically biting his nails down to the quick just thinking of it. “She’s already gone through!”

*

This job was supposed to go off without a hitch.

There’s no wiggle room for mistakes in this business; not when the difference between a good grift and a shallow grave is balanced on a blade’s edge. All it takes is a glance too unsavory or a word misspoke to see a man clapped in irons, dragged off to dungeons so deep even his own mother would forget his name. If he had one, that is. Men like him usually don’t.

Oh, not every job’s determined at knife point, draw blood or be bled, but the point still stands: there’s no such thing as a do-over when the coin you’ll pay with is your life. No amount of almosts will fill an empty belly, or a keep a body warm at night on the Port City’s streets. In a world where everyone’s fighting for scraps, it’s the ones who walk away that win. And he—

Well, he’s built a career out of being the one that does. Too bad this prince-chaser chick hasn’t gotten the message.

She’s probably skipped her way off to His Highness already, none the wiser. Makes the timing of this whole order a little sticky, but it’s nothing he can’t straighten out once she’s out of the pretty prince’s eyesight. Nothing like a royal decree and a frog march with a few guardsmen to really sell the story, after all.

But when he whips around, searching the scene through the gate, and— there, a flash of red flitting through the arcade. Ha, so the idiot hadn’t lied when about her coming through just before he got here. And just his luck, she’d stuck around long enough to hear her golden ticket get revoked.

His hand clenches on his shoulder, barely dulling the ache. Well, isn’t this nice? In the time it’d take him to convince the guards to get up off their duffs, the little gold digger’s going to have gotten her teeth sunk into the prince.

He’s never been much for plans. Contingencies, sure— nothing wrong with stacking the deck in to make sure he stays in Lady Luck’s favor. But when at any given moment a casual remark can drag his day to grinding halt, it’s his wits he’s learned to fly by. Wits and a good dose of sheer animal instinct, since when he tracks that cardinal weaving between columns, he’s already up on his toes, ready to give chase.

Not on her heels like some wet-behind-the-ears footpad on his first follow— that would take him through too many people, guards and nobles alike, all of them used to giving commands and expecting to be obeyed. No, he’s a half dozen steps past the gate when he finds his first foothold, vaulting himself up onto the shifting thatch of some outbuilding. It’s only a skip and a jump— maybe a harrowing leap or two, but who’s counting— before he’s up on the castle’s roof, tiles clacking and clattering beneath his boots. Not his usual ones, worn in and worn down, silent as a whisper, but the new ones His Grace’s bootblacks had shined to gleaming, made more for stirrups than streets, and certainly not for rooftops.

These tiles aren’t made for walking either, but he’s no stranger to making do— even a slip off the gutters is better than being brought to his knees by some young court flower, shocked at the impropriety of a man passing by her too quick. They might shift and slide, their smooth surfaces slick beneath a pair of boots too fine for friction, but his stride is still longer than some little miss, and his path far straighter. Oh, she might know all the twists and turns between the gate and the west wing, but he—

Well, all he needs is line of sight.

*

Plans might not be his forte, but his one contingency is tucked up against the tower— a library maybe, or some royal offices, he’d never bothered to check— caught against the rough patchwork between one hall’s straight roof and the curve of the tower’s. The quiver’s untouched, bow still safe in the shadows even under the mid-day sun, and it’s nothing to string it, just—

Just this damned coat doesn’t fit. One pull to full draw and he’s got shoulders up to his neck, practically drowning him in wool.

“Ha.” He’s careful to set the bow down gentle, leaning it against the fancy balustrade they’ve got rigged up round this place, even though there’s not even a door to get out to it. “Should have known. Noble messenger was never gonna sit easy on these shoulders.”

There’s no time for a full costume change, not when he can see her dodging the west wing guards idling in the arcade, but he’s got enough to shuck off his shell of respectability, letting it crumple to the tile. Hopefully whoever His Grace lifted it from didn’t expect it back— he sure wouldn’t be carting it through the gutters to make it happen.

Strung and nocked, the bow sits easy in his hands, not even a tremble on the draw. She’s not quick enough to make aiming a challenge, cutting a path without a single dodge or weave save for where she needs to skirt passerby. If he let it loose right now, he could stop her right in her tracks, let her bleed crimson all over this spotless white, but—

Don’t harm her. His hand jerks, curse curled around it, loosing the arrow wide, burying ash in stone rather than skin. He grins, draw hand flexing at his side.

“Nice,” he murmurs, watching the girl stare at the shaft that’s sprouted from the wall in front her. “Couldn’t have done it better myself.”

There’s a message bound on the shaft, a pretty bit of ribbon he’d snagged from a passing pigtail, but he doubts she’ll see it, never mind bother to read it. The arrow’s enough, most times, for people to pick up that they’re not wanted. This is the part of the job he likes most— in fear, everyone obeys with the same haste as he does.

But not this girl. The ribbon’s half unfurled from the force of the shot, and she lets it trail between her fingers as she unwraps the rest. To our dear red-headed guest, it reads, a clever bit if he says so himself— but even with the spyglass, he’s too far away to appreciate how her eyes must widen, how all that brazen greed must give out to fear. His one regret keeping his hands so clean on this one, since—

Since she just rips is out of the wall and runs. Not out, the way any reasonable person would, but in. Not to safety but toward—

Toward the prince. The prince, and this whole little debacle going entirely tits up.

Make sure she goes home. The command itches like a pulse beneath his skin, one he can feel all the way to his fingers. And for once, he doesn’t resist.

*

Little Miss Pushing-Her-Luck careens around the colonnades' corners, boots squealing as she slips past another pair of promising guardsmen, too confounded by her speed to do more than shout out, “Slow down!” before her back disappears.

The command nips at his heels, trying to sink its teeth into enough sinew to hobble him— that’s the real danger being out in the streets; this curse likes to turn caltrop whenever his ear catches a raised voice— but he’s old hand at dancing out of arm’s reach. A few hops across a convenient balcony and a tip-toe across a balustrade sees him safe, whatever weak tether those words have snapping as he drops down onto a tree branch. His feet plant, back to bark, as she races through the halls around him, arrow still clutched in her grip.

“Welp,” he sighs, cold metal sliding between his knuckles like old friend. “I tried to be nice, but looks like the only way to get rid of a leech is the old fashioned way.”

He lifts his arm, letting his curse set his aim—

Just to catch himself as a mop of silver-white rounds the corner, trailed by a giant and a goddess, both with blades at their hip— and the casual coiled strength of people who know how to use them. His Highness and his aides— the younger one. “Shirayuki?”

Well, damn. Steel presses cold to his palms as he pockets them. Looks like he’s run out of chances.

*

He expects the girl to hole up; after all, what better way to cozen up to a prince than to convince him her life’s on the line? His Grace might have told him to keep the carpets clean when it came to dislodging this particular pest from the palace, but it’ll take more than a little discouragement now that she’s gone to ground. No way she’ll just walk out here and let him have another chance—

And yet, that’s what she does. Slips right out of the prince’s office— empty-handed, he notices, stomach sinking down to his knees— and down the colonnade. Like she were any other guest. Like she didn’t just survive an arrow flying in her path.

This girl’s either the bravest woman he’s ever seen, or the stupidest. And he doesn’t have time to decide, not before she takes two steps and comes face to face with the one person who can make this situation even worse: his boss.

His fingers dig right into his shoulder, trying to ease the ache. It’s not his business, whatever they’re talking about. Not unless His Grace had a mind to make it so, which doesn’t seem likely when—

Ah, when he’s drawing his blade. And holding it, right there, at the young miss’s throat.

Protect your client. His breath catches, old words gripping him like a mother cat does its kitten: with jaws around its neck. Even at cost to yourself.

“Ha.” The laugh slips through the space between his teeth. “Guess there’s no getting around that one.”

*

It’s not easy to climb his way over— the trees here are ornamental, meant to sway prettily in the breeze, not hold weight, and spaced to encourage soft-soled nobles to stroll between them. A scoundrel swinging from branch-to-branch is straight out.

And yet, with a few more gravity-defying leaps than he’d like to think about, he makes it to the one just beneath the second floor’s balustrade. Fingers gripping tight, they hauling him up, his arms giving one good tremble before he spills himself over the stone. Ah, maybe he shouldn’t have turned his nose up at that breakfast. Looks like he could have used it.

He glances up, ears perked to hear just what sort of drama has unfolded in his absence—

“Fine, if you’re right, and I’m not supposed to be here” —the girl steps forward, the blade so close it dints her skin— “then it’s your duty to take that blade and cut me down.”

—and somehow it’s gone and got worse. Ah, if only his shoulder would let up on him, maybe he’d be able to think this through. At least before His Grace went and did his job for him.

“Stop, girl!” The naked blade trembles, catching the barest glint of the afternoon sun. “I won’t hesitate.”

There’s a moment where the girl startles, eyes blinking wide, first to His Grace, then to the sword between them. This is where anyone else would balk, where they would shuffle back and try to save face, but she—

She only smiles, letting the point dip so close it’s luck that keeps it from drawing blood. “Be my guest.”

[thecpdiary]

Mental Wellness: Why It's Time to Stop and Reflect

Change is continuous and it deeply shapes our lives. We all have struggles to face – some external, but many internal. What matters is how we think, how we feel, and how we react to the world around us. Change is inevitable. It's not something you can stop.

Trying to hold 'the pieces' together 

At times, life can feel fragmented – like we're all trying to hold the pieces together while the ground shifts beneath us. Nothing feels certain anymore, and that unpredictability can be overwhelming.

In a world that doesn’t stop moving, it is essential to pause – to stop – to create space for stillness, reflection, to care for your mental wellness. If you don’t take the time to do that, it’ll be easy to lose yourself in the noise. It is important to remind yourself that even when the outside world feels chaotic, you can choose to slow down and breathe.

It's time to pause, to sit, to read and to reflect.

It’s easy to lose sight of the quiet moments, the small things that help you to connect with yourself. In a digital world we have learned to scroll on everything that has nothing to do with mental wellness. And we move on to the next thing before we’ve even had time to process, or absorb the last.

But it is in the quiet, in the sitting still, that acknowledgement and real understanding can begin.

The CP Diary has always been a space to think beyond the noise – a place to explore life’s challenges, emotions – to question things in ways that are open, honest, reflective and thoughtful. The CP Diary isn't about giving you answers to you on a plate, but about the reflections that help you to shape your own path. It invites you, as the reader, to think about things.

If you’ve found yourself here, it may be time to stay awhile.

I created this space to help make that possible. Each post is written with care. As I put myself through my paces, I take the reader with me – in the hope that what I write resonates—not just in the moment, but long after you’ve read it. So, I encourage you to read fully: don’t skim. Don’t scroll quickly. Instead, sit with it. Absorb the words and let your mind sit.

You might be surprised at what rises to the surface.

There is value in being still. There is strength in reflection. And in a world that is changed and fragmented, choosing to stop, reflect and think about how you feel, about your 'mental wellness' – it's one of the most important things you can do. Please take the time.

For more relatable, inspirational and lifestyle blogs, please check out my site https://www.thecpdiary.com

[no1ryomafan]

SIGGGH I didn’t wanna do it like this but I gotta- here’s a important zxg update but a GENERAL ao3 thing.

Because companies suck it’s been discovered just awhile ago AI is going through the entirety of ao3. (I will link the actual reddit post below as well)

The tldr of the situation is a user conducted going through the archive though the actual staff IS making a effort to sort this out, it’s just unclear how long this’ll take or the fact it’s likely this could happen again in the future until ao3 can find a way (if at all) to fight against ai users. This is one time I’ll say despite my own mixed feelings about the staff, do NOT blame it on them, as while I do not defend everything, this part wasn’t their fault.

It is suggested now until this is sorted to lock your fics to registered users only, to which I did. (It’s very easy to do, just go to edit works, click edit all, and their will be a option when you scroll down to change all the fics to registered users)

This also means I’m removing guest viewers because as much as I understand some people just read and don’t want an account, I cannot trust if said guest users if they comment will be AI. Once this is sorted out I will remove this, but I stay to locked until then. (Though as long as you have a account, my fics are still viewable)

As for the fic itself, zxg is FINALLY being worked on and I wanna say I’m 80% the way through this current chapter. I feel bad that even though it’s only been two months or so since it was last updated the chapter been long overdue, but there’s been numerous factors delaying it. The major one being chapter 11 was meant to be in the batches but was lost due to a storage problem, so I’ve decided to scrap batches entirely next to the other stress it causes and just do chapters one at time.

But I’ve been debating to still wait to post a chapter IF they’ve been split into parts as I don’t want to leave the readers on massive cliffhangers even if it’s unavoidable, and it’s been what I’m currently conflicted on with this chapter. It’s 50/50 rn on whether it’ll be split or not, I will not know until it’s beta’d. It’s also been taking so long due to school which is an obvious factor and specifically FUCK MY SCREENWRITING CLASS- I mean- I’ve lost motivation from that class but I’m now regaining it. I have 3ish weeks of school left so I can probably get it out in May if I can get the chapter done in the following week, but it’ll all depend on the betaing and if this’ll need to be split.

Depending on how long this takes I may also do a poll asking if chapters should be posted together if they’ve been split or not, but I have to wait and see. And on the final note, here’s the current word count to know I’ve been working on it.

ZXG been my most grueling fic as it’ll be 2 years in October since I’ve started it and I feel I’ve mishandle somethings, but I should give myself some credit for getting 10 out of 30 chapters out while doing school and the fic is halfway to 500 views! I am also just proud of it story wise as the rewrite of chapter 11 is actually way better then draft 1, so losing the chapter wasn’t a waste entirely.

Thank you everyone who’s been patient with this fic and I hope after this set back in the summer I can do more chapters that I won’t need to feel like I should do these long form post.

[just-your-average-cryptid]

Task Insurance

So a thing I’ve noticed being around a lot of neurodivergent people and spaces is that a lot of nt people don’t seem to understand why executive dysfunction and lack of motivation makes it so hard to Do Stuff. This is kinda how my brain processes it, so maybe it’ll help other people get it?

Say you have a Task. Doesn’t matter what right now, but it’s there and needs to be done, and it has three basic upfront costs.

Time - 15 minutes, an hour, a week; however long it takes to do The Task

Energy - for however much effort The Task needs

Motivation - to actually start The Task and keep doing it

You can’t skip out on any of these - you have to “pay” all three in full to do The Task. No motivation, you can’t start; no energy, you can’t finish or work at all.

Those costs aren’t equally difficult to pay, however: time can be set aside and planned, energy can usually be mustered or at least scrounged up, but motivation can’t be forced.

For neurotypicals, that motivation cost is covered by NT Insurance in most cases, so the only thing they need to pay “out of pocket” are the time and energy costs. Neurodivergent people don’t have NT Insurance, though, so they have to “pay” all three on their own.

For example. Let’s say the Task is Clean The Bathroom. You’re neurotypical, so your motivation cost is covered already, and you’ve made the time to Clean The Bathroom. You have at least enough energy to do two subtasks (Clean Toilet and Clean Shower) and possibly a third. This’ll be easy!

Now let’s say you’re neurodivergent. You still have the time and energy above, but you’re out of spoons or something similar and just can’t cover the last cost. Welp. No clean bathroom for you, unless it’s so bad that Panic Insurance is paying in full for all three costs.

See, that’s what happens without NT Insurance. If you can’t pay the cost yourself, and that’s often the case, something else has to do it for you. That thing is usually panic. Or deadlines. Or “deadly black mold.” (Most of these are just panic with extra features, tbh.)

Executive dysfunction is like having your motivation funds tapped out, even if your time and energy funds are bursting. You can’t start a Task even if you wanted do, you can’t afford it.

You CAN, however, do a Thing. A Thing is not a Task, it’s not “work.” A Thing might be scrolling through social media, playing a game, going for a walk, anything with low motivation costs that’s enjoyable and/or easy. It’s that sweet quick-return dopamine vs the later return a Task might provide. For some nd people, a Task might not provide any dopamine upon completion, so there’s no reward to work towards. And without that reward, a lot of nd people lose any reason to do said Task.

For NTs, “the satisfaction of a job well done” is so fundamental to their experience that the idea of it not existing for everyone is baffling. They don’t even realize motivation is a cost, because it’s so often covered for them. And so when nd people talk about motivation and executive function issues, they think it’s about being lazy or not trying hard enough.

It’s not.

Lazy is “I could do it now, but I don’t feel like it.” Executive dysfunction is “I could literally do it right now if my brain would just cooperate for once, but instead I’m stuck in stasis mode trying to convince my legs to work.”

So for anyone that needs it: you’re not lazy, and you’re not broken. You just don’t have Task Insurance when everyone expects you to because they do.

(This is not at all an expert pov and kind of written off the cuff, so please correct me if/where I’m wrong 😅)

[sempiosoysauce]

anyone who ever loved unsleeping city ever NEEDS to listen to rainbow connection from the fucking. muppet movie (trust me) and new york i love you but you’re bringing me down by LCD Soundsystem (this one works best if you’ve seen chapter 2 but it works well w just season 1)

sometimes i turn on one of these two songs to just Think about unsleeping city because as someone who was also born and raised in a massive city that i love with my whole heart and soul it just makes me so full of emotion and i recommend this experience wholeheartedly. my thoughts and feelings about my city are so complicated and the unsleeping city is genuinely the only piece of media ive ever seen that really Got it. cities can feel so heartless and massive but also so magical and fantastic and full of life and hope. possibilities. big cities are about dreams and people and communities, but that means that they can’t stop themselves from changing, for better or for worse. ricky and iga and alejandro and the immigrant experience, the joy and beauty and family and community that a city can be for those who dare to dream. when puck tells misty to remember who her people are, he doesn’t understand that fairy was never hers, that the city is where she feels safe and free and alive. kingston’s elderly mother making him breakfast each morning and sneaking tupperwares into his pockets. it is a beautiful thing.

and sometimes you have to watch that beautiful this killing itself so slow as things and people change, watching the places you love close and the people in power steal them away from under you, when the city feels hostile and too big and lonely. kingston and iga walking around as the new york that they love feels like it’s getting stolen out from underneath them, as stores close or family becomes distant, being confused and hurt and sad as what they remember becomes fainter and the people around them forget what it once was. kingston being willing to kill pete if it means the city will be safe, leaving liz behind, choosing new york over the individual people around him ten times out of ten because it isn’t even a question; the betrayal he feels when epona attacks him in the subway. cody throwing ninja stars at billboards and yelling at construction workers because his mall is going to be destroyed and that’s his world. pete scrolling through his phone with a slice of pizza. sofia doing anything she can to invite people over or avoid going home, because her home is empty. sofia failing to fight the angels to get her husband back because he needs to watch the deer, cutting off her family because they’ve betrayed her so deeply. kugrash reading the letter in david’s office. cities really are easy to hate sometimes, because not every person and community is kind or good or noble, but there’s an illogical and impossible loyalty you feel even when it feels like the buildings will fall down and crush you, covered in this sick oppressive system on a hallowed holy ground, artificial and dirty and so big it’ll swallow you whole. and sometimes you have to accept that things are how they are, but you know that somewhere in here is the ability to fight and change and grow and be together and support one another- pete and nod at the diner and the museum, kingston opening his apartment so pete can get back on his feet, pete saving priya from the burning building and forgiving kingston on the train, ricky refusing to be anything but a good person even when things suck; kugrash traveling around nod on wally’s shoulders and saying it’s okay that you don’t forgive me and driving with esther to see her mother in the park and eating the bagel because even though he was horrible before he wants to be better and he believes he can be; everyone giving their spells to help alejandro catch the train and save nod; saving santa and willy and em and the art show guests and the bodega customers and la gran gata not because they have to but because they can. and while there are never easy solutions, justice can be served and your dreams can become reality- pete taking control of his reality, making his body and his magic his own; rowan talking to the american dream, you are my love and my only true love; sofia at the empire state building- there really is something up there if you go up to look for it, there are people who will fight with you, it is what it is and it is what it could be- the city is almost impossible to love if you aren’t aware that it loves you back, and it does, it does, it does.

[longeyelashedtragedy]

snippet of the beginning of dubcon anthony gordon/frank phonesex fic. set after anthony's england nt callup.

The conversation has been on his mind for months now.  Since Everton.  It traveled with him to Newcastle and it’ll be joining him at St. George’s Park.   He’s even called upon the conversation recently.  To his benefit, he sees, but this wasn’t without its problems.  

When you sell your soul, it might text you from time to time.  

He scrolls through his messages again, resting his thumb on the one he’d responded to.  One swipe left and he could just…delete it.  But instead—the conversation.

You always have to work hard and be smart.  Just like I did, and you’re just like me.

Anthony thought: Am I just like you?

It sometimes took Frank a while to get hard again, but when they had a lot of time together they liked to use every second, so they put in the time until Frank was ready again, kissing and hugging and cuddling and talking.  Anthony had realized Frank loved to hear himself talk.  He played humble, and everyone in YouTube comments was sure that he was— “great guy, top bloke, one of the nicest people you’ll meet.”  And he loved to hear himself talk.

But if something can give you the advantage on top of your hard work—I don’t mean anything illegal—

Yeah, thanks Dad, I know—

—But if anything comes up that you can use to your advantage, don’t be afraid to use it.  If you don’t, everyone else will.  You don’t want your hard work to be for nothing.

The way Frank said the word nothing always stuck with Anthony.  Now, sitting in his parked car, he hears it again in Frank’s accent and feels how the word tickled against his neck back then.  Frank knew his shit when it came to the system.  Things hadn’t always been easy for Anthony.  Some of his teammates had lived a life he never could have lived.  So he didn’t want it to all be for nothing.  

He’d still felt Frank’s breath against his neck when he responded to the gaffer’s text.  And sitting in the car, looking at it among the flood of congratulations, he feels it again, hears the way he always dipped in and out of East London and Press Conference, so many people in that head fighting with each other to stay in and to get out.  Even now, sitting in his car.  He can’t shake it off.

And then make sure you show the proper gratitude.  No matter how big you get, there’s always someone bigger.  They can help you, or hurt you, and they’ll eat their own no matter how proper English you think you are, so always do what you can to make sure they help you.  You understand me?

Yes, gaffer.

My good, smart boy.  I can’t wait to see you shine bigger than Goodison. 

Frank’s come dried onto his cheeks and chin, Frank’s thumb stroking over it.  Stiff on Anthony’s skin when he moved his mouth to speak. 

He shakes the memory off, tries to bring back the buzzing he’s been feeling since the call-up.  He unlocks the car and then he gets the call that he knows has been coming.  GAFFER.  But Eddie is his gaffer now.

And still.  He’s never changed it.

He ignores GAFFER’s call, but he hears Frank’s words in his ear again, as much as a takeover of his senses as Frank’s damp, sticky, soft cock was as it pressed against his ass during that conversation.  He doesn’t remember anything with as many of his senses the way he does his times with Frank.

And then make sure you show the proper gratitude…

And he remembers snuggling against the gaffer’s strong chest, feeling the plump tits and hard nipples brush his back.  Yes, gaffer.  I always will.  You told me you liked that I don’t take things for granted.

That’s right, just how I was raised.  You’re such a good boy, the pride of England someday, I can feel it.  Now.  You’ll help your Frank out with your mouth, won’t you?

He’s not surprised when the missed call does not go to voicemail, and just seconds later, Frank calls again.

It’s late at this point. Frank has a family.  Shouldn’t he be putting his kids to bed, or whatever the fuck he did with his family?  In Everton it was like he was a guy away at his first year at uni.  Staying up late, eating whatever, never mentioning people back in London.  Sometimes they’d come to games—up to Liverpool, or to Everton away—and Anthony tried not to even look in their direction. He could vaguely picture Frank’s famous wife, and his two little kids from his phone wallpaper, and Harry and Jamie Redknapp, but he didn’t want to see them or learn who his aunts sisters nieces nephews were.  He never wanted it to be serious like that.

He answers the second call because the breath burns his neck and the words tickle his ear and Frank’s thick Everton body presses against him, urges him.

“…Hi, Frank.”

“My boy. Wanted to congratulate you in a personal way.  You deserve better than a text.”

My boy.  It’s familiar, too familiar.  Entitled is the word.