#bc i keep forgetting to come here and update

[apmanifests]

some hygiene produtcs

a hair thingy

leave-in for my hair

bunch of my favorite fruits

tools to help some areas of my life

money

been more social lately

it's been easier for me to eat healthy

mother's money problems went away

found a new online community

[curiosityshop]

Gonna put some more muses on the muse page today, I think!

[absinthe-over-tea]

either way it's gonna || the pitt

pt 2 <<prev • next>>

pairing: jack abbott x f!resident!reader warnings: age gap (older man/younger woman), probably lots of medical inaccuracies, brief mentions of rehab and miscarriage a/n: Did I stay up until 2 a.m. to post this bc Jack Abbot and The Pitt have fully taken over my brain? Yes, yes, I did. This story is just getting started and I hope to keep posting updates throughout the week as I have time to write, so let me know if y'all want me to start a tag list?

As predicted, Robby was on the roof nursing a beer. Though at least tonight he was on this side of the railing. 

“Should I be worried about how often I find you up here these days?” Before PittFest a little over a month ago, it was rare for Robby to come up to the roof unless he was looking for Jack. Now, he was up here more nights than not. 

“You sound like Heather.” 

“Dr. Collins is a smart woman.” 

They both stood there leaning against the railing in silence, staring out over the skyline of downtown Pittsburgh in the distance. Jack knew better than to push Robby for a real answer. If he wanted to talk about what happened today, he would. If not, Jack was content to spend a few minutes in silence before what was sure to be another hectic shift. 

The sun was starting to set, and the soundtrack of the city was starting to morph from day to night — honking from rush hour commuters replaced by live music and happy hour laughter. The bar down the block that the day shift residents were always heading to after shift was playing some new pop song that Jack had heard too many times on the radio. He wondered briefly if you would head there after today’s shift with the others, or if you were the type to keep work and your personal life in two completely separate boxes. 

“So, I met your new resident downstairs,” Jack broke the silence. 

Robby’s eyes cut over to him, one eyebrow raised in that annoying Robby way that meant he was reading into something Jack would really rather him not. 

“Yeah, I needed a backfill for Langdon, and Gloria only made me promise half my soul in exchange. She’s a transfer from Mercy.” 

“She any good?” 

He tried to sound casual, unaffected — just an attending asking another attending about a new resident. But the way Robby fully turned to look at Jack suggested that he was unsuccessful. He pointedly ignored the growing smirk on his friend’s face. 

“Very. Calm under pressure, quick to diagnose, generous with the interns and med students. She’ll be an asset. Gloria actually smiled when she looked at her resumé, amd I didn’t know she was even capable of anything other than a disappointed frown.”

Jack just nodded slowly, keeping his eyes trained on the skyline as Robby continued to study him with his arms crossed over his chest and hip propped up against the railing. 

“I can’t tell if you’re asking because you want to sleep with her or because you want to steal her for the night shift.” 

“Oh fuck off, I’m not trying to steal her,” Jack rolled his eyes. He’d technically stolen Ellis away from day shift after her intern year, and Robby still hadn’t let it go. And even if Jack was plotting to steal you to add to the night shift roster, it’d be fair game. Night shift was even more understaffed than the day shift. 

“So you’re trying to sleep with her then?” 

Jack nearly gave himself whiplash turning to glare at Robby. “No, I’m not trying to—that’s not why I—Christ, Robby, she’s like half my age!” 

Robby barked out an amused laugh, shoulders shaking with what could only be described as unabashed glee while Jack sputtered out his response. “That must have been one hell of a first impression, Brother. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you this flustered.” 

“I’m not flustered. Forget I said anything. Maybe I do want to steal her for the night shift,” he grumbled. “Get someone to keep Shen on his toes.” 

“Whatever you say, man. God, I need that after today. Thanks.” He pushed off from the railing and headed back to the door inside, still chuckling to himself. Jack followed behind him with a deep sigh, regretting almost every life choice that led him to becoming friends with this asshole. 

*** 

You liked working at The Pitt. It was a faster pace than Mercy. More cases, higher stakes, less oversight. Given how often you saw Gloria following around a visibly annoyed Robby, her heels clacking rapidly against the vinyl tiling, you suspected that last bit was thanks to him shielding the ED from higher influences. 

Robby was a great boss, and Dana ran a tight ship. Plus, there was a real sense of camaraderie between the staff that you didn’t realize you were missing before. It’s always a red flag when an HR department tells you that a workplace is “like a family,” and you thankfully hadn’t heard anyone say that during your interview process at PTMC. But you also sort of felt like it might be true in this case. 

The Pitt was sort of a family. A wildly dysfunctional one, but a family nonetheless. And you’d been in desperate need of one. 

Collins was a tough chief resident, but she was constantly looking out for everyone else. Princess and Perlah may endlessly bully poor Whittaker, who was hands-down the most unlucky person you’d ever met in your life, but you’d seen them both slide a piece of candy across the counter toward him on numerous occasions when he was having the kind of shift that left him cycling through multiple sets of scrubs. Santos could be a pain in the ass, but she also didn’t hesitate to throw herself in between Mel and a patient who was getting a little too aggressive.

And by the end of your first month on the job, they’d brought you into the fold, too. 

You and Collins got close quickly. During your first week, you’d accidentally stumbled across her crying in the stairwell. You’d sat down with her quietly, just so she wouldn’t be alone, and after shift, she told you about her miscarriage and the case that had triggered her tears earlier in the day. You told her about breaking down in the ambulance bay after the kid whose father accidentally pushed them down the stairs during a bender. She wasn’t a lesser doctor because a case got to her; you all had your shit, and in the end, it made you better doctors. 

The guys invited you to join in on the betting board — something Mercy most certainly did not have. Everyone bet on everything, but there was also a mason jar at the nurses station labeled “coffee stash,” and every single person who won money from the pool shoved a few bills into the jar from their winnings. Dana used it for cafe coffee runs on hard shifts and beer runs after good ones. 

Santos and Mel always invited you out for drinks after shift, even though you said no more often than not so you could visit your mom before visiting hours ended. Robby fist bumped you after successful cases you worked together. Princess told you about the unofficial bet the nurses had going on about Javadi and Mateo. 

Things were…good. Great, even. 

And then there was Dr. Abbot. 

You’d been so fucking embarrassed after that first meeting — snapping at him like he was an intern and then rambling like a moron before essentially running away. The absolute height of professionalism. 

But he didn’t seem to hold it against you. If anything, it seemed that unfortunate introduction had somehow endeared you to the stoic night shift attending. You weren’t sure if it was borne from how you handled that code, the bumbling apology after, or the ironic duality of the two interactions happening back-to-back (you really hoped it was the former). But the next time you were both working on the same patient, he’d handed you a pair of iris scissors and walked you through your first-ever emergency lateral canthotomy. 

After, he’d given you a proud smile. “Hell of a job, doctor. You just saved this man’s eye.” 

You didn’t get to work with him every day, only on the days he came in early for his shift or you stayed late to wrap up a case or catch up on paperwork. But the occasions when your time in the ED did overlap, you found yourself gravitating toward him. He was gruff, no-nonsense. He scared the shit out of the interns, and the nurses all had stories about him Macgyvering procedures. But he was also a phenomenal doctor and a patient teacher. Had a clear soft spot for vets and kids. 

And yeah, okay, he was unfairly handsome. You weren’t above admitting that to yourself. The corded muscles along his forearms, broad shoulders, the constant five o’clock shadow, the salt and pepper hair grown out just long enough to start to curl, the slight rasp in his voice. It was a very specific combination that caused a weird swooping sensation in your belly every time you locked eyes with him. 

You asked Collins about him at the bar one night, three whiskey diet cokes deep and unable to hold the question back. 

“What about him? He's the most senior night shift attending. Great doctor. Surprisingly good teacher, given the whole ‘ED cowboy’ reputation. He’s worked at The Pitt for… 7 years now, I think? Obvious workaholic, given how often he comes in early and stays late.” 

“I don’t mean what’s in his personnel file, Heather," you say, exasperated. You wanted to know what he was like, his hobbies outside of work, if he was single...

“Then what did you mean?” 

“I don’t know, something that’s not in his personnel file? I know him and Robby are friends.” 

She slumped down deeper in the booth, her legs stretching across until her feet rested on your side of the booth. “And why would that mean I know anything about him? Do I look like Princess and Perlah on the gossip squad to you?” 

You leveled an unamused look at her, one that said, Do you really want me to lay out exactly why I think you would know all about Jack because he and Robby are friends? 

She sighed dramatically, putting her hands up in surrender. “He’s a combat vet. Afghanistan. Three tours as a medic before an IED ended his military career. He wears a prosthetic, though he does a pretty good job of keeping it hidden at the hospital. Lately, him and Robby do this weird post-shift hand-off thing on the roof, which is morbid and more than a little concerning. He’s a widower; further details unclear.”

“Shit.” The liquor buzzing through your system prevented you from saying anything more eloquent. Heather just nodded in agreement. 

That briefly brought the mood down, silence stretching between you in the booth. Your mind wandered to Dr. Abbot. He’d be at the hospital right now, rounding on patients. It was late enough that there might be a lull. You wondered what he was like during those periods of downtime. Was he restless, constantly finding something to keep him busy, or did he relish a chance for a break to get some peace and quiet? Was he more relaxed with his night shift crew? Did he have secret jokes with the nurses? Did he give that small, proud smile when Ellis or Walsh pulled off a successful procedure under his tutelage? 

God, the whiskey was really making you pathetic tonight. 

“So, traumatized, tired, self-loathing older men. That’s your type?” Heather’s voice interrupted your spiraling thoughts. 

You thought about denying it. It’s not like anything would ever happen between you anyway — he was an attending and older and a fucking widower, apparently. It was just an innocent work crush; something to keep your mind occupied during shift lulls and stilted visits with your mom. 

But then she waggled her eyebrows with a smug, shit-eating grin on her face, and you knew lying would be pointless. Instead, you threw a straw wrapper at her and shot her a mock glare. “Shut up, you’re one to talk.” 

She dodged the wrapper easily, sitting up with a burst of energy and demanding you to tell her everything. You were going to need another whiskey diet.

[churipu]

jjk men & their sleepyhead gf !

featuring. gojo satoru, sukuna ryomen, nanami kento x fem! reader

warnings. none, just them being all soft and whipped for you

note. first of all, anon i am so sorry, i accidentally posted your request on the queue list and fml, i'm so embarrassed but idek how to edit the queue list so out of desperation i deleted it— but i ofc screenshotted this before i deleted the og post, so i am so sorry :(( i hope you enjoy this, and i hope you get to find out i didn't delete your ask and it's here in a form of a screenshot :((

GOJO SATORU. i feel like he doesn't mind most of the time— he does mind it if you fall asleep when you're supposed to be paying attention to him >:(

but whenever you fall asleep, his camera's always on standby, snapping pictures of you from every angle. whether you look good or bad (you never look bad btw), from up above, from below, from the left, from the right, with 0.5, i can go on.

and when you wake up, you find your phone blowing up with notifications from shoko, geto, and him, especially with the notification "@gojosatoru tagged you in a post" and it's just a slideshow post of you sleeping, a few close up shots, and your face with different instagram filters.

you don't even bother at this point since he's not going to stop, and not gonna lie, you did find it a bit funny. and the comments from shoko and geto made you laugh, so... good luck trying to sleep around him, you'll wake up to a whole album of you sleeping on his account.

"satoru, what the fuck is this filter?" it was a filter that made your face a little distorted, and gojo'd just sitting there innocently, blinking his white lashes up at you.

"you look adorable, princess."

"i don't want to sleep around you anymore."

"no, please sleep— how am i supposed to continue my daily updates of you sleeping?"

mind you, he has 200 posts on instagram and 150 of them are just you sleeping + with the cheesiest captions like "my baby is sleeping, pls tell her to wake up bcs i miss her 🥺🥺🥺"

and shoko is all up in his comments like "wake her up yourself, dumbass she's literally in your house."

SUKUNA RYOMEN. the first time you fell asleep around him was when he went out to get a glass of water, but he didn't think of it as anything and thought you were just tired.

but no— you fall asleep anywhere, whenever and most of the time. he gets pretty frustrated when you both spend time, and in a bit, your head leans onto his shoulders and sukuna checks on you, and you were out like a light.

"y/n?" soft snores.

he clicks his tongue in annoyance but doesn't push you away or get angry, although he finds you cute. sometimes snaps a few pictures to keep, but you don't know about that.

and at times, you wake up all tucked in your bed—your favorite plushie beside you, and sukuna nowhere in sight.

you open your phone and there's a few text messages from him.

[ you fell asleep, so i left ] he didn't leave, he said that to make you feel bad and for not giving him enough attention— he stayed in the same seated position for a few hours before prepping you onto your bed, tucking you in and not forgetting to place a smooch on your forehead.

[ call me when you wake up ]

[ love you ] awww.

he's so in love with you.

NANAMI KENTO. he's such a gentle soul, he won't mind if you fall asleep or is asleep whenever he comes over. in fact, he enjoys it when you fall asleep.

he read somewhere that if someone feels tired or sleepy around a person, it's because they feel safe. so nanami just concludes that his girlfriend feels safe around him, safe enough for her to get sleepy and fall asleep on him.

"kento," you murmur half-asleep, stretching your arms.

"hm?" he hums out, opening his arms for you to fall into — which you did, and he craddled you in his arms, placing his cheek onto your head.

"night night." it wasn't even night time, you just had to say it before you go to sleep, and nanami finds you so cute he couldn't help but to squeeze you a little.

"night night," he replies back, kissing your forehead.

nanami just sits there and continues craddling you in his arms, and if he needs to go, he would put you on your bed (on his bed when it's his house), and writes you a short message why he needed to go and when he will be back.

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !

[azzibueckers5]

um so i’ve read iwkpa like 4 separate times do u have any recs so i don’t lose my mind while waiting for u to drop smth else

ohhhhhh yes lemme put a quck list tg off the top of my head!! i am prob forgetting some but i'll come back and add to this later. going to #complain for a sec but reading fics on tumblr makes them really hard to keep track of (if only there was a website specifically designed to tag and bookmark fics!!! 😶) so i knowww there's ones i'm missing but i did my best:

for completed fics & oneshots! literally everything by all of these authors:

@loeysoi especiallyyy thinking of you (i reread it too often ngl) oh wait and imma link who's calling that shit bc its perfect and lyra won't put in on her master list even though she absolutely should <3

@luvergirl-535 like seriously. all of it. but my favorites are that's so true and don't need to breathe

@hcneymooners every time i read something of hers i have to take a second to absorb all of her words because every single one is chosen so carefully and beautifully (her wnba!pazzi is my favorite)

@azzibuckets i don't even know what to link because all of it is perfect but i most recently read this and it was a delight, obviously

@imaginespazzi ugh, again, all of it, but in between shades of blue is my absolute favorite. love besties who engage in psychological warfare bc they're in love <3 also golden hour bc of course.

@basketball-lesbians literally the smut goat. ummm just read stiff and ease. thank me later

@pbaz7 duhhhh! really loved heat check and drunk confession

okay and then i don't often read wips but here are the one's i've broken that rule for:

@loeysoi's weren't we the salt in the sea? (lyra if you're reading this i will pay you to update it) @luvergirl-535's something like love (it's on hiatus but it's so good im linking it anyways) @pbaz7's soft spot @azzibuckets's worth the wait

ok that's all i can think of off the top of my head but i'm sureeeee i'm missing some so i will add to this!

[qwiopty]

TAILS GIJINKA BREAKDOWN!

FINALLY!! i put together some tails gijinka/humanized stuff LOL!! see below for some goodies and an in depth (kind of indulgent) breakdown!!

[for the third image: sonic gijinka design belongs to @noka-exe !! i havent really come up with my own but i like theirs :-) ]

thisss gijinka is packed with headcanons LOL.. beware!! for starters...hes just a little guy!! i took visual inspo from markl (howls moving castle) and simon (gurrenn lagann)!! mostly simon bc i find a lot of similarities between him and tails.. short and unassuming shy boys who are also compassionate and brave!! (isn't it also awesome how simon and tails both have an older brother figure who encourages them to be brave.. 💥💥🤯 and they both have some sort of space opera and id go on but thats spoilers!!) i also went with a prosthetic leg to kind of represent his tail!! i think it could parallel to how tails' tails can act like a mobility aid, and he'd get the opportunity to tinker and repair them too!! it could also possibly correlate to how tails makes something he was picked on and bullied for, his tails, and uses it to his advantage! and again tying in his interest for mechanics and being able to customize and repair it is a concept that i find neat!! (maybe some inspo from fullmetal alchemist.. bahahaha..)

speaking of customization. i also love the idea of him covering them with stickers!! i've already added tails' own emblem on there but this has prompted me to look into adding some more!

(sorry that im singling you out again @tornado1992 LMAO i just loved your input!!) but i also love the hc that tails gets hand me downs from sonic!! for instance his gloves.. ik theyre not directly from sonic but it is such a sweet detail that tails has a rubber band around those oversized gloves to mimic sonic! and tails definitely has the means to make his own fitted gloves yet he still has those bands on in his modern models!! auhgh!! so yes.. lets say the hoodie is so oversized and oozing with swag cause it originally belonged to sonic! :-) maybe tails likes it so much that he designs the cyclone after it!! just some ideas... more depth into his clothes: i drew a lot of inspo from already existing tails-related designs!! the main outfit i draw him in is a large short-sleeve hoodie with some elements pulled from the cyclone and tails' racesuit design from sonic speed simulator! he also has his goggles and shoes from sonic riders, with some slight details added on!! see below for a better look at the outfit LOL

(the pins on his crossbody bag are a fly-type emblem, a mint, and a red star ring! theres also a sonic keychain that i keep forgetting to add/switch out with the fly type emblem LOL)

here's some more doodles from last year with this design!

yes i did make a classic design for him!! his younger hair is more of that nice vintage orange-yellow but as he gets older itll turn amber then maybe gold? i was also thinking he dons some red clothing to reflect his admiration for sonic but later starts implementing his own style with some grays and blues!!

i'll also point out that i lean into more of a space-pilot design instead of the usual aviator pilot!! tbf i was raised on sonic x season 3 which is just a huge space opera.. 😅😅 but i still do love the aviator pilot concept!!

this should be about everything i have to dump about my design!! im not usually this talkative in posts so im a little embarassed to be sharing this at all 💀 but if u read through all of this thank you so much LMFAO im so crazy about him!! if you have any questions or ideas youd like to share id love to hear them!! maybe draw them out too... i may even do a cosmo design update/breakdown!! for fun.. heres the first tails gijinka post i ever posted!!

also shoutout to @corvussio for the incredible detailed comment on my other tails design post!! i know its been ages but i still think about how you took the time to look into each and every detail!! thank you greatly pal!!

[whousestypewriters]

──── ୨ৎ RED WAS THE CARPET — GRAYSON HAWTHORNE + READER ‧₊˚

a/n: and everyone rejoiced. welcome back to the grayson series that is keeping you all alive bc it is shhh. lets all collectively ignore how i havent update this in a month but we move on and enjoy part threeeee !!! and pls forgive me idk anything abt events or red carpets so if i get anything wrong js pretend. also idk why but i love the title and the fact that is somehow makes zero sense and yet is still understandable i need to shut up ive rambled too much ENJOY (love you lots <33)

[part one] i'm a fan [part two] the book club

red was the carpet that you walked on earlier.

it matched your dress.

alya, your very annoying plus one for tonight was wearing black.

there was a lot of things that happened tonight. a lot of things you were never going to forget. everybody you met and talked with... especially one of them...

"oh my god, pheebs and ki are going to be so jealous," alya squeals - quietly of course, you're still surrounded by people, and although sometimes you think alya could actually fight god and win, in public, she's behaving surprisingly calm.

well calm adjacent.

its not exactly seen as calm and collected when you're jumping up and down every three seconds when you see another celebrity walk past preparing for the carpet.

to her credit though she has somehow managed to get the numbers of four actors and singers in the thirty minutes you've been here.

you were lined up at the end of the carpet along with a few other select interviewers, waiting for the start of the event. alya was a bundle of nerves when margot robbie and zendaya stopped for their interview barely getting a few words out and opting to just hold the camera instead.

when xander and jameson arrived though, that was a different story. you'd think they were life long friends. you chatted with max of course, promising to invite her to your next book sleepover, jameson was suspiciously quiet and smirk-y and xander kept looking over his shoulder a shit eating grin on his face.

you knew what was about to happen.

pictures don't do him justice.

that was to be expected, of course. you don't have millions of people following you, or watching your every move for no reason.

the screams on the red carpet, increased when he stepped foot on it, pleas to look at the camera, answer questions, how to pose, everything. he seemed to follow along well, looking hauntingly beautiful in his suit, his face practically carved but when he scanned the large crowd twice over before his eyes settled on you, it went quiet.

he smiled - and by the way it was really hot gorgeous - and you smiled back, a private moment between the two of you in the middle of chaos.

which was totally ruined when alya latched onto your arm and freaked out that she could see grayson.

"oh my god, he's like ten feet away. ohmygodohmygod!" she squealed.

"yeah i know, i can see him," you mutter back, attempting - and failing - to stop her jumping up and down.

"but he's like right there and he's looking at you!"

"i know."

"oh, oh, oh he's coming over to us now, oh my god i think i'm going to faint, hold me."

when the grayson hawthorne stopped in front of you a soft and rare smile on his face you faltered slightly - not because of alya standing there with her mouth agape, because... wow - before raising the microphone and starting.

"hi grayson, its lovely to meet you, i'm y/n."

yn.books

liked by alya.green, maxine.liu.loo, pheobethereader, kirasbooknook, graysonhawthorne, and 852, 679 others

yn.books im am honoured to have been invited to this event!! it was so lovely meeting everyone and asking you questions 🤍 (also kinda freaking out because i met anne hathaway omggg)

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user1 i see no mention of grayson......

user2 avoiding talking about a certain someone are we?

user3 if they didn't meet im actually going to riot, i'm shipping them so hard.

user4 we have confirmation from jameson that he was there... why didnt you talk to him....

user5 maybe she just didn't want to show that?? its not always about grayson

alya.green best night of my life.

maxine.lui.loo it was so good seeing you again babes <333

yn.books we should catch up while im still in texass

────

graysonhawthorne

liked by thehawthorneheiress, ticking.time.bomb, yn.books, kirasbooknook and 9, 853, 927 others

graysonhawthorne met some nice people tonight.

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user1 MET WHO GRAYSON??? MET WHO??

user2 ugh he's so delicious i love it

user3 everyone wake up grayson posted

user4 he better have met her or im going to quit

alya.green oh... i see how it is then.... i will do what i must...

user5 ALYA WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO??? OH MY GOD???

user6 ALYA ????

user7 in the likes she's in the likes againnnnn

────

[camera: on]

you should've know alya would have a shit eating grin the entire interview. it was tempting to punch her, very tempting.

"i honestly think divine rivals is my favorite book i've read this year," grayson's deep voice answers your question. his eyes stay on your face and he has a soft smile.

alya is elbowing you now. and you nudge her back as you ask your next question, smiling because now there are even more cameras on you.

"okay," you smile laughing nervously. "now i've asked everyone this tonight, i have a youtube channel."

"oh right yes, i follow you," grayson's voice is calm and his eyes are still on your face.

"you do?" with all of the things that are happening you weren't actually expecting him to be following you.

"yes, you're videos have become a guilty pleasure almost."

if anyone was wondering alya is losing her shit next to you. she has the biggest grin on her face, she's whipped out her camera and is taking an excessive amount of pictures.

"thats really sweet of you," a smile is present on your face now and you raise the microphone to ask your question, ignore the now fully smile grayson has on his face at your flustered-ness. "anyway my question was, do you have anything you want to say, a quote or just anything you like to tell the people watching?"

you turn the mic over to him and he looks down at you with a fond expression on his face - your insides are butterflies now - before looking at the camera.

"i'm going to say, you've made a good decision following this girl. she's a lovely person and keep supporting her," he pauses for a second, "and read divine rivals."

you laugh and nod at the camera, "i agree 100%." turning back to him you start. "well thank you for your time tonight, grayson, it was lovely to getting to know you," you look over to the over excited alya who's just standing back and nodding as if she's a proud mother. "and maybe we'll see you inside."

"hopefully we will," grayson smiles and waves slightly before moving on to the next interviewer.

[camera: off]

────

alya.green

liked by yn.books, maxine.liu.loo, pheobethereader, kirasbooknook, graysonhawthorne and 11, 483, 228 others

alya.green two things: 1, my dress tonight and 2, if they won't do it... i will.

tagged: graysonhawthorne, yn.books

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user1 OH SHE IS SO MESSY

user2 THIS IS THE QUEEN BEHAVIOUR I SUPPORT

user3 and when i tell you cackled BC LOOK AT THEIR SMILES. LOOK AT THE WAY SHES LOOKING AT HIM.

pheobethereader and you're officially invited back to the next book sleep over.

alya.green i don't need ur validation i dont have to come to the sleepovers

pheobethereader ok then :)

alya.green no wait i'll do anything i have like zero self respect when it comes to the sleepovers

user4 OH HELL YEAH THEY METTTT

ticking.time.bomb and then after the premier... the restaurant....?

alya.green all in due time my friend

user5 EXCUSE ME??? THE RESTAURANT WHAT HAPPENED???

user6 im going to need you to spill the tea RIGHT NOW

user7 the fact that they both liked this but didn't comment 😭😭

────

the restaurant was another story though, for another time.

a/n II: guys i lowkey hate it but i was determined to finish this so :)))

𐔌 . ⋮ 🏷️ tags .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

@arqbella, @midiosaamor, @maybxlle @reminiscentreader, @sweetreveriee

@elysianwayy77 @tornqdowarnings, @catapparently, @zenikswaffleshop, @thelov3lybookworm,

@anotherwriternamedclara,

[yikesy]

I'm aware of how random this sounds

But because rrverse Apollo and rrverse Hermes have a tense and distant relationship, I was thinking about how differently they interact with their kids, and my thoughts spiralled until I thought of Luke.

I feel like an Apollo and Luke interaction would be so interesting. Luke probably wouldn't like him due how May got all messed up from trying to be his Oracle, but I feel like Apollo would be a kind uncle BECAUSE he knows what Luke's fate is (and probably disapproves about how Hermes treated the whole thing).

Like remember when Apollo once said that he would of adopted Frank if he could? I would like to think he would of wanted to adopt Luke too.

Your thoughts?

oh luke DOES NOT have a good impression of apollo. apart from the may thing let's not forget the event that kinda radicalized him was HALCYON GREEN. it's very interesting actually because he sees hermes as uncaring and neglectful but he sees apollo as actively malicious

so he thinks hermes is The Worst bc of his inaction but then comes apollo who he perceives as too involved, in the bad way (he's not, luke who by pure coincidence witnessed two apollo related atrocities before sixteen is an outlier and shouldn't be counted) Lots of wires crossed

but sadly I think bc of that his reaction to apollo would be very,, measured?? like, he thinks he's evil!! apollo would come down to see what's the deal with this kid everyone's making such a fuss about and luke would be very polite and amiable and and apollo would get hermes vibes™™ that he's just acting like that to hide he's scared and uncomfortable and then apollo would leave bc he doesn't want to keep subjecting him to that by forcing his presence. but he wouldn't know just How Much he was lying then and the depth of his Issues

but if they somehow got into a situation where luke gives up any attempt at preservation and GOES OFF at apollo (which he would) apollo would, well he would respond very calmly and pointedly take responsibility for everything which would confuse THE FUCK out of luke

and then he would go directly to hermes and tell him he needs to get down here now this shit is serious and hermes would be like "you know I can't why are you making it more painful than it already is" and apollo would be like "you're being an extremist and oddly stubborn about this" and they would go at it for a looong time.

apollo's opinion on luke's fate is that hermes may not be able to control or change it but what hermes can control is his own relationship with luke and the way he's hurting him right now, that if tragedy is going to happen anyway and you love the one it's heading to, then it's your duty to balance the scales and steal moments from between the lines of prophecy, so that happiness WAS there, even if it didn't change anything. that hermes is not only withdrawing his love but causing more misery to an already doomed person... he cannot stand for it

in the end apollo would end up routinely dragging hermes to see luke bc hermes does want to but he won't admit anything to apollo and he'd be sooo awkward and pathetic with luke and luke would stare at him with disdain and judgement. in the end apollo ends up acting like a kind of particularly forceful family therapist

so lmao from luke's perspective it would be like "this guy I don't like and I don't understand, for an unfathomable reason, took my dad being absent as a personal offense and now keeps dragging him here like some kind of cat who keeps bringing dead mouse and keeps dropping by to give me weekly updates and lessons on godly psychology and politics"

[ameliadeanva]

⭐️Mariposa Wings!⭐️

⭐️Finaly after all this time, after 2 months WE HAVE FINISHED the process in getting these wings to yall. If yall run into any problems lemme know but I got some stuff to show yall, and working on other things👀. But ya I hope yall enjoy recreating the #BarbieMariposa movie in the #sims4. The dress and everything else except the wings are not mine. When I get the chance I shall credit the simmers who made the other cc that I used for her here. Other thank that I would like to give an extra special shout out! First to God for helping me with all that I do and giving me the time and love to do this. 2nd to an amazing sims 4 cc and tutorial maker @powluna she helped me get the wings from floating around in space. Even though that is cool! But what I mean is like flying away from her and she can't really have wings if they are not on her. Or can you???? Anywho, she helped me keep them to stay in place and how to do that. Super talented go check her videos out! And also I wanna say these are based off of the Mariposa wings from the movie. The character of Mariposa and her look belongs to Mattel. While this is a fan recreation of them, I didn't come up with the idea of them. I need to say this bc if I don't Mattel will send the skeezites after me. Ok not really but you get the idea😅.⭐️

Update: I think it may require My wedding stories because I used a ring from there so imma fix it up so where it can be base game soon.

⭐️Rules : (Bc we gotta do this and we gotta lay down the law before we take off)

1.Do not claim these to be your own. While you can use this for a refrence for your own wings, please do not steal this. I'd rather see your own interpretation of making this yourself, instead of using my file completely, copy pasting it, and saying "dis iz mine"

2. Do not pay wall this. Everyone can use this, and I want to keep it that way.

⭐️Ok now that is out of the way please if you would like to I would love to see yalls pictures of them. Don't forget, if you would like to, you don't have to, but if you would like to, please tag me in your pictures. I would love to see them, and I wanted to make these because I don't see a lot of Mariposa photos in the sims 4 barbie community space and I wanna change that. Anyways imma stop chattin here you go God bless, and enjoy the wings! Oh and there are diffrent color variants! ⭐️

🦋2 Corinthians 12:9🦋

🦋Download link🦋

https://www.simfileshare.net/download/5494412/

Credits:

Hair and hair flower accessory:-by

@simstrouble

[azzibuckets]

absolutely no one asked for this but here’s some wlw book recs for you gay ass mfs (aka a collection of almost all the very few wlw books out there). i update every so often!

💗 wlw books i’ve read and loved and reread so many times:

- seven husbands of evelyn hugo

- ALL haley cass books (on the same page, the snowball effect, those who wait)

- she drives me crazy

- the fiancée farce

- never ever getting back together

- her royal highness

- late to the party

- 6 times we almost kissed (and one time we did)

- cleat cute

- one last stop

- georgia peaches and other forbidden fruit

- delilah green doesn’t care

- iris kelly doesn’t date

- astrid parker doesn’t fall

- she gets the girl

- stars collide

- love at first set

- girls like girls

- pride and prejudice and pittsburgh

- the lucky list

- how to excavate a heart

- some girls do

- home field advantage

- melt with you

- make my wish come true

- the ride of her life

- not on the resume

- in the event of love

- playing for keeps

- you don’t have a shot

👍 wlw books i’ve read that were decent:

- written in the stars

- her name in the sky

- the falling in love montage

- the henna wars

- tell me how you really feel

- tell me again how a crush should feel

- hani and ishu’s guide to fake dating

- forward march

- mistakes were made

- make room for love

- hearing red

- how you get the girl anita kelly (basketball!!)

- forget me not

❌ wlw books i started but never finished bc i didn’t love it (but maybe you will!):

- last night at the telegraph club

- the key to you and me

- one day you’ll leave me

- sorry bro

- breaking character

- annie on my mind

- kissing olivia winchester

- our own private universe

- no boy summer

- keeping you a seceet

- the love curse of melody mcintyre

- if you could be mine

- love and other natural disasters

- leah on the offbeat

- late bloomer

- everything leads to you

- that summer feeling

- the romance recipe

- the summer love strategy

- it’s not like it’s a secret

- margo zimmerman gets the girl

- we got the beat

- imogen obviously

📚 tbr:

- a scatter of light

- i think i love you

- outdrawn

- lost in love (nunswick abbey)

- everyone i kissed since you got famous

- unadulterated love

- score to love

- coasting and crashing

[lvrgrl-xo]

Priest!Jeongin x Sinner!Reader

Posting it without a title or warnings bc I feel bad for it taking so long lol

I have a little health update at the end for anyone who wants to read that

• • •

The heavy wooden door of the confession booth creaked as you pushed it open. You had been here a thousand times before, sitting in this small, dimly lit space, waiting for the quiet voice on the other side. The one who would listen, who would absolve, who would offer solace that never quite seemed to last.

You took your usual spot, pressing your palms against the cool wood, fingers trembling slightly. You could feel the weight of the small vial hidden in the pocket of your jacket, the substance inside promising to numb the edges of the world, to dull the ache that had grown too large to ignore. It was ironic, really—bringing angel dust to church. The juxtaposition of a name brought shame, loneliness, the spiraling thoughts that made it harder to breathe. Every time you came here, hoping for a way out.

The faint sound of footsteps echoed from the other side, and your heart skipped a beat. You knew that sound well. The priest. Father Yang Jeongin.

He was the one you came to every time. His voice, soft but steady, would guide you through your brokenness, and his presence, though distant, somehow made you feel less alone in your suffering.

You could hear him settle into his seat on the other side of the booth, the faint rustling of his robes as he prepared himself. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves, but the familiar pang of need hit you again—just the thought of the angel dust, that cold, indifferent comfort, threatened to pull you under.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” you said, the words falling from your lips like an echo. You had said them so many times before, yet they felt as hollow as ever.

Father Jeongin’s voice came through the grille, warm but strained, like it always was when he listened to you. "Tell me, my child. What weighs on your soul?"

You hesitated, fingers tapping against the cool wood of the booth. He knew why you came here. Yet, he didn’t know. No one knew how deep it went, how the addiction had taken root, how it had sunk its claws into you and refused to let go.

"I... I’ve fallen again," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "I can’t stop, Father. I know it’s wrong, but it’s the only thing that... that makes me forget."

There was a long pause. You could feel the weight of his gaze even through the thin veil of separation, his silence heavier than any words. He must have known for a long while, even before your first confession. He had seen the signs—the tremors in your hands when you’d come to Mass, the way you couldn’t seem to focus, the way your eyes had lost that once-vibrant spark.

Father Jeongin let out a soft sigh, a sound that made your heart twist with shame. "You are not alone in this struggle, my child. But you must understand... this will not save you. Only you can choose to let go of the things that bind you."

Your eyes closed, a shiver running through you at his words. "I don’t know how," you whispered. "I’ve tried, Father. I’ve tried so many times... but every time, I just... fall right back into it. It’s too much."

The silence stretched between you again, thick and heavy, and for a moment, you thought he might say nothing more. You expected the usual words of comfort, the soft reprimands, the guidance that always felt like it wasn’t enough.

But then, unexpectedly, his voice softened even more. "I see the pain in your eyes. But you must understand, there is always a way back. Hell is forever whether you like it or not… This is your chance to behave better."

The words hit you harder than you expected. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to push the burning tears away. He was right, but you didn’t know if you had the strength to keep fighting. You had fallen so far, and each time you thought you might stand again, the darkness pulled you down even deeper.

Father Jeongin’s voice was still gentle, but there was a firmness there now, an edge that made you feel as if he was seeing something inside of you—something raw and untamed. "Addiction is not a sin you carry alone. It is a battle, my child. And you are worthy of healing, no matter how many times you’ve stumbled."

The weight of his words crashed over you. You wanted to believe him, more than anything. But could you? Could you trust that there was still a way out?

There was a long pause before you spoke again, the confession threatening to spill out in a rush. "I’ve hurt so many people, Father. I’ve hurt myself... I can’t keep living like this."

"You don’t have to," he whispered, and for a fleeting moment, you thought you heard something more in his tone. Something that lingered between pity and something deeper. Something that made your heart beat faster, a flutter of vulnerability you couldn’t name.

For a brief moment, the silence was heavy again—deeper now, as if the weight of your sins and your desires collided in that small, dimly lit booth.

“I don’t know if I can forgive myself,” you whispered.

Father Jeongin took a deep breath. "You are not meant to carry that weight alone. You are forgiven, and you can be healed—if you choose to walk away from the darkness."

You nodded, your heart both aching and hopeful, a confusing mix of emotions swirling within you. The addiction still clawed at you, still whispered promises of escape, but for the first time in a long while, you felt a spark of something else—something you hadn’t dared hope for: the chance to change.

You stood up slowly, a small, fragile sense of resolve rising within you. "Thank you, Father."

And as you left the booth, the words that echoed in your mind were not those of shame or failure, but of a quiet, tentative hope.

–

The cool air outside the church greeted you as you stepped through the doors, your breath catching in the quiet night. The weight of Father Jeongin’s words lingered in your chest, a strange, hopeful heaviness you hadn’t expected. You had come to confess your sins, to seek absolution, but something had shifted inside you. Something that made you feel… seen, in a way you hadn’t in a long time.

You had no idea how long you stood there, frozen in the glow of the church lights. The door behind you creaked open again, and the soft sound of footsteps made you turn, half-expecting to see him. And there he was—Father Jeongin, walking toward you with slow, measured steps, his black robes swirling around his ankles like they were meant to shroud him in mystery.

His gaze met yours, and there was something different in his eyes now. Something more than the usual compassion or quiet resolve. It was as if he was seeing you—truly seeing you—for the first time, beyond your confession. The air between you felt thick, knowing he knew was almost too much.

“I didn’t expect to stay all day,” you whispered, your voice betraying a vulnerability that you hadn’t meant to show.

He stopped a few feet away from you, his broad frame casting a long shadow in the dim light of the church. The moon flickered like the pulse in your throat as the clouds glided by. A rhythmic tension played in the night, a melody you could feel in your skin. He looked down at you, his eyes dark but soft.

“You’re more than welcome here,” he said quietly, his voice like velvet, “you are not alone in this fight. And you need not carry it by yourself.”

You swallowed, your heart racing. His words were comforting, yes, but they also felt like something else. A promise. A thread of understanding that wound between you both, a silent agreement to hold each other in a way that was different from the usual distance of confession.

“Father,” you said, your voice barely audible, as you glanced up at him. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now. What if I sin again? What if I never escape the darkness?”

He stepped closer, just enough to bridge the distance between you. His presence filled you, overwhelming in its intensity, like something you didn’t want to escape, yet weren’t sure you could control. There was an undeniable magnetism, a pull that drew you to him, as if the weight of your shared silence was begging to be broken.

Father Jeongin’s hand reached out, a tentative motion, but it was enough to make you shiver. His fingers brushed against your arm, just the faintest touch, yet it sent a ripple of heat through your body. The simple contact made your pulse quicken, and you wondered if he felt it too.

“I’m here, my child,” he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper. “You don’t have to carry this burden alone.”

The way he said those words, so close, so intimate, made your breath hitch. The air between you seemed to crackle with something raw and aching, something that made the line between priest and sinner blur, just for a moment.

“I don’t know if I can,” you whispered, your body betraying you as you took a small, timid step closer. You could feel the warmth of him now, the heat from his body seeping into yours, making the space between you feel impossibly small.

He held his ground, his gaze was unwavering. There was a restraint in his eyes, but also a hesitation of resolve. Desire? Compassion? It was hard to tell, and that made the tension even more unbearable.

“You don’t have to do anything, not yet,” he said, his hand slowly pulling away, though it lingered for a moment too long. “Just take one step at a time. You’ve taken the first one, by coming here.”

Your heart hammered in your chest as you met his gaze, the unspoken connection between you both pulling you closer. The space between you was small now, so small that you could feel the heat from his body.

You wanted to call his bluff, tell him that you’ve taken this step countless times only to take it back. But, you couldn’t, not when he was looking at you with so much certainty and genuine faith–a look you hadn’t seen in many years.

Father Jeongin took a small breath, almost as if he was forcing himself to steady his own racing thoughts. “You are more than your struggles. More than your sins. And I… I will be here for you, no matter what.”

You closed your eyes, the words sinking deep within you, stirring something that felt like hope, but also pure desire. You wanted to reach for him, to close the distance and give in to the electric current between you. But a voice in the back of your mind—one that was always there—reminded you that this was forbidden. That this could never be.

And yet, you couldn’t stop the way your heart surged when he spoke, when his presence filled you so completely.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” he added softly, his voice low and reassuring, “I won’t let you fall.”

You looked up at him again, the weight of his words hanging between you, and for the first time in a very long time, you felt a spark of something more than just shame, more than just addiction. Something that, if you let yourself, could burn brighter than anything you had ever known.

But the space between you remained, just barely, as if the tension was too fragile to break.

The air between you seemed to stretch out, a silence so demanding. Father Jeongin’s eyes never left yours, the depth of his gaze stirring deep within you. You could feel it—the electricity between you, subtle yet undeniable. His hand, hovering just an inch from your arm, was the only contact between you now, and it felt like a tether, a promise, a dangerous boundary.

He cleared his throat, breaking the moment, and you could see the struggle in his eyes. The restraint. The weight of his vows pressing down on him, but the pull of humanity, was just as strong. You felt it too. You could feel your breath catch in your chest, your pulse quickening, the need for something, anything, to bridge the distance between you.

“I… I think it’s better if we talk somewhere more private,” Father Jeongin said softly, his voice betraying a slight tremor. “This isn’t a place for personal matters, not like this. It’s not right.”

Your heart skipped. You knew what he meant. The weight of the confession booth, the vulnerability of the moment, seemed too fragile to carry outside these walls. Yet, part of you was afraid—afraid of where this might lead, afraid of the temptation that already flickered dangerously between you both. You knew he could control himself, but could you?

There was an undeniable yearning, a need to be closer, to understand this strange bond that seemed to grow with each passing moment. You nodded slowly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Where… where should we go?”

Father Jeongin hesitated, then stepped back, his presence still enveloping you despite the distance. He lowered his voice, just for you. “I have a small office, behind the church. It’s... quiet. Private.”

The word private settled heavily in your heart. It was an invitation and a warning, an unspoken agreement that things might shift from the usual priest-to-penitent boundary. His eyes shone with uncertainty, yet you saw the same pull in him—the same desire to bridge the space between you both.

Without another word, you followed him down the narrow corridor behind the church. The sound of your footsteps was soft, almost drowned out by the steady thrum of your heartbeat. The air was cool in the hallways, the smell of parchment hanging in the corners. Father Jeongin’s broad frame moved in front of you, his every step measured, as if he was carefully considering each move. But every so often, his glance would fall on you, a flash of something raw in his gaze, something more than priestly concern.

When you reached the door to his office, he paused for a moment, his hand hovering just above the handle. You could sense the weight of the decision he was making in that instant—a hesitation, a moment where the gravity of what might happen next pressed down on both of you. It wasn’t just about the conversation anymore.

Father Jeongin pushed the door open, the small office revealing shelves filled with books, papers, and various religious relics. The room was small but warm, with an old desk cluttered with various items. The scent of polished wood adding to the quiet solitude of the space.

He stepped inside, and you followed, the door clicking softly behind you. As you crossed the threshold, the atmosphere changed. It felt heavier somehow, the proximity between you more intimate, more real than it had been in the open church. The office seemed like a different world, one where the boundaries of confessions and sacred spaces could blur into something more dangerous.

Father Jeongin turned to face you, his hands clasped in front of him, his posture still and controlled. His eyes, however, told a different story. Tempered by the lingering tension that buzzed between every atom of the room.

“You’re not alone,” he repeated, his voice low, almost like a whisper. “But you have to understand, this is more than just words. It’s more than me being here for you.” He paused, his gaze never leaving yours. “I don’t want you to think this is about... saving you. I want to help you find the strength to save yourself. But only you can decide that.”

You swallowed hard, stepping closer. That same magnetism about his presence—something that drew you toward him despite the reservations, despite the consequences. Your heart beat in your chest like a reminder that what you could do was wrong.

“I don’t know if I can save myself,” you whispered, your voice faltering just a little. “I feel like I’m drowning, Father. I don’t know how to let go.”

Father Jeongin’s expression softened, and for a moment, you saw the man behind the priest—the one who was just as human as you were. His gaze flickered down to your hands, and then back to your face, his breath coming just a little quicker now. He took a small step closer, so close you could feel the heat of his body, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours.

“Sometimes, it’s okay to ask for help,” he said softly. “But you have to trust me... you have to trust yourself.”

You closed your eyes, fighting the overwhelming urge to reach out. There was something in his voice, in the way he stood so close, that made it impossible to back away. You could feel the tension rising, as if the very air around you was charged with everything electric.

You felt a flutter in your stomach, a storm of emotions swirling inside of you—hope, fear, desire, vulnerability. The distance between you and him felt like the thinnest veil, something that could shatter at any moment. And yet, you remained still, caught between what you needed and what you knew you shouldn’t want: to pierce the veil that separated your dreams from reality.

“I want to believe you,” you said softly, your voice barely above a breath.

Father Jeongin’s hand twitched at his side, but he didn’t reach for you—not yet. He stood there, inches away, his eyes searching yours for something. Was it the same longing that you felt? Or was it something different?

In that moment, you knew you were standing at the edge of something you couldn’t undo. You could feel it in the air, in the way the room seemed to close around you both.

But neither of you moved. Not yet.

And there, in the silence of the small office, everything hung in the balance. The tension between you both was a tightrope, each of you waiting for the other to take that final step, to cross that line.

But the line remained untouched. For now.

The silence once again stretched between you, almost unbearably. The weight of unspoken words, of restrained longing, sat heavy in the air. Father Jeongin was so close—so impossibly close—that you could see the way his breath trembled just slightly. But he didn’t step away, nor did he close the distance, though you could see the battle in his eyes.

And you—oh, you wanted to move. You wanted to reach out, to brush your fingers against his, to see if the warmth you felt radiating from him was real. But you couldn’t. You wouldn’t. Because if you did, if you let yourself take that one step, you knew there would be no turning back.

The clock on the far wall ticked on, each second dragging out like an eternity.

“I…” Jeongin’s voice was softer now, almost hesitant. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture so unlike the composed priest you had always known. “I shouldn’t have asked you to come here.”

Your heart clenched. “Why?”

He let out a slow breath, shaking his head. “Because this—” he gestured vaguely between the two of you, the charged space you both refused to acknowledge aloud—“this is dangerous. For you. For me.”

You swallowed hard. “I know.”

His eyes flickered to yours, something raw in them, something that made your stomach tighten. “Then why did you come?”

A bitter smile tugged at your lips. “Because I don’t know where else to go.”

Jeongin exhaled sharply, his gaze dropping for a brief moment before meeting yours again. His restraint was fraying at the edges, his carefully built walls cracking. You could see it in the way his hands clenched into fists at his sides, in the way his breath hitched slightly, in the way his pupils dilated as he studied you.

“I don’t want to be another thing that breaks you,” he murmured, so quiet you almost didn’t hear it.

Your throat tightened. “And what if you’re the only thing keeping me together?”

That did it. His composure shattered, just for a second. His fingers twitched, like he wanted to reach for you but knew he shouldn’t. His lips parted, but no words came out. The struggle within him was visible, palpable.

And then, finally, he broke the distance.

Not all the way—not in the way you feared and wanted in equal measure. But his hand, hesitant and warm, reached out and covered yours. The touch was feather-light, but it sent a shiver through you, igniting something deep in your chest.

Your breath caught. “Jeongin…”

His name left your lips before you could stop it, and something shifted in his gaze. His grip on your hand tightened—not possessive, not forceful, just… grounding. Real. A tether in the storm raging inside you both.

“This isn’t right,” he whispered, his voice thick with conflict. But he didn’t pull away.

You turned your hand under his, your fingers brushing against his palm, testing the boundaries of this fragile moment. “Then why does it feel like the only thing that is?”

A muscle in his jaw tensed, his breath shuddering as he closed his eyes briefly, as if trying to summon strength he wasn’t sure he had. When he opened them again, there was something softer there. Something devastating.

“You need help,” he murmured. “Real help. And I… I need to know that when you walk out of this room, you won’t just disappear back into the dark.”

You inhaled shakily. “I don’t want to disappear.”

His fingers curled around yours, his warmth seeping into your skin. “Then let me help you.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe—just maybe—you weren’t as lost as you thought. That maybe, the path forward wasn’t as impossible as it seemed.

The tension between you still crackled, still hummed like a wire stretched too thin. But in this moment, with his hand anchoring you to the present, you allowed yourself to hope.

And perhaps… so did he.

The air was silent, weighty, humming with everything that had gone unspoken. Jeongin’s breath was uneven, the collar of his cassock uncomfortably tight around his throat. Here you stood before him, eyes dark with a need he had never seen before, your lips parted as though on the verge of confession.

“This is wrong,” he murmured, but the words were a lie the moment they left his lips.

You stepped closer. Close enough that he could smell the remnants of vanilla perfume clinging to your skin, mixing with something rawer, something purely you. A sinner’s scent, intoxicating in ways he’d never admit.

“Then stop me,” You whispered.

He should have.

Instead, his hands found you—hesitant at first, trembling with restraint, but once they settled on the curve of your waist, there was no turning back. Your body was warmth against his cold resolve, your fingers threading into his hair, nails grazing his scalp as though wanting to scrape away every last ounce of his hesitation.

He kisses you like a prayer left too long unsaid. Desperate. Ruinous. His lips moved over yours with a fervor that should have belonged in the pulpit, his hands exploring the softness of forbidden skin, memorizing each dip and hollow like scripture. Your moan was a plea, your body an altar upon which he laid his sins, one by one.

Your back met the wall with a soft thud, and his name escaped your lips like a benediction. It should have shattered him. Instead, it drove him deeper into the abyss of you, his mouth trailing down the column of your throat, tracing the frantic pulse beneath your skin.

You arch into him, fingers tugging at the fabric that separated you, and he let you. He let you undo him, piece by piece, let you pull him into the fire of you, let himself believe—for just one moment—that damnation had never felt so divine.

The fabric of his cassock bunched under your hands as you tugged him closer, your touch setting him ablaze in ways neither of you were prepared for. His breath came in sharp, uneven gasps, the last vestiges of his resistance crumbling beneath the press of your body.

Your fingers traced down his chest, a slow, sinful path that had him shuddering beneath your touch. He should have pulled away, should have begged for absolution before it was too late, but his body betrayed him. The warmth of your hands, the way your breath ghosted over his skin—it was too much, and yet not nearly enough.

“God, forgive me,” he rasped against your lips, though his grip on you only tightened.

Your response was a wicked, breathless chuckle, your nails scraping down his back. “I don’t think He’s listening.”

The words sent a shiver down his spine, not from fear, but from something far darker. A hunger he’d buried beneath years of devotion, now clawing its way to the surface.

Your lips found the hollow of his throat, tasting the salt of his skin, and he gasped, fingers digging into your hips. Your name tumbled from his lips, stripped of restraint, wrecked and wanting. He no longer knew if he was worshiping or being worshiped, if he was saving you or if you were damning him.

His hands slipped beneath the hem of your dress, fingertips skimming over fevered skin, reverent in their blasphemy. Your thighs parted for him, welcoming him deeper into the sin of you, and he went willingly, drowning in the scent of you, something dangerously addictive.

Your hands fumbled with the buttons of his cassock, and for the first time, he let it fall from his shoulders without hesitation. The weight of his faith pooled at his feet, forgotten in the face of something far more consuming.

“Jeongin,” you whispered again, and it was his undoing.

He silenced you with his mouth, with his hands, with the desperate press of his body against yours. Every kiss, every touch, was an offering at your altar, a surrender he could never take back.

And he didn’t care.

Because in this moment, wrapped in the heat of you, burning with desire and ruin, he had never felt more alive.

The room was silent except for the ragged sound of your breathing, the quiet rustle of fabric slipping away, and the pulse-pounding thrum of your hearts.

Jeongin’s hands traced over your body as if committing you to memory, fingertips trembling over the smoothness of your skin. He had spent his life devoted to scripture, to prayers whispered in empty sanctuaries—but nothing, nothing had ever felt as sacred as this.

His lips burned a path down your collarbone, teeth grazing the delicate skin just enough to make you gasp. The sound unraveled him. He needed more—more of your touch, more of your warmth, more of this unbearable, all-consuming heat that made rational thought impossible.

As he lifted you by your thighs and pressed you against the wall, your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him flush against you. He let out a strangled groan at the friction. His name slipped from your lips again, and the last of his restraint snapped like a brittle thread.

His hands gripped your thighs harder, pressing you tighter against the wall as his hips rolled against yours, the layers of remaining clothing between you an unbearable barrier.

This was madness. This was ruin.

And he had never wanted anything more.

Your hands traced over the bare skin of his chest, nails raking, marking him in a way no one else ever had. His breath hitched as your lips found his again, bruising, demanding, tasting of sin and salvation all at once.

“I need you,” he whispered, the words sending a violent shudder through your entire body.

You exhaled shakily, forehead pressed against his, your pulse a frantic drumbeat beneath your skin. “Then take me.”

And he did.

The last of his restraint had crumbled, his devotion shifting, redirected, no longer to the heavens but to the body beneath his hands. Your skin burned against his palms, soft and fever-hot, and he traced the curve of your ribcage as though he might carve this moment into his memory, brand it into his very being.

Your breath hitched as his fingers skimmed lower, teasing over the sensitive dip of your hip, nails dragging lightly as if testing his control, testing your patience. A quiet, pleading sound left your lips—his name, breathless, desperate—and it sent a violent shudder through him. He wanted to drown in it, in you, in the way your body arched into his touch as if pulled by something deeper than desire.

His lips trailed down your throat, his teeth grazing the frantic pulse beneath your skin. He should have feared how easily you surrendered to him, how eagerly you let him mold you beneath his hands—but all he could feel was hunger. A hunger darker than sin, deeper than salvation.

You writhed against him, your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan. His cassock was already discarded, pooled at his feet like a forgotten relic, and your hands roamed over the expanse of his bare chest, learning the ridges and planes of him with a reverence that sent heat pooling in his gut.

His lips descended lower, tracing the path of your collarbone, the swell of your chest, his breath hot and unsteady. Every gasp, every sigh from your lips, was an offering, and he worshipped you the only way he knew how—with his mouth, his hands, his entire being.

Your thighs tightened around him as he pressed closer, his body slotting perfectly against yours. The heat between you was unbearable, the layers of fabric still between you maddening. Your fingers fumbled with his belt, and he let you—let you strip him of the last barrier between you, let himself be unraveled by your touch, by the soft sighs and quiet gasps that filled the air between you.

When his hands finally pushed the fabric of your dress higher, higher, his fingers dragging along the inside of your thigh in slow, torturous strokes. You trembled against him, your breath coming in short, needy gasps, and it made something primal snap inside him.

His lips found yours again, desperate, hungry, devouring every sound you made as his hands traced their way between your legs, parting you with a touch that had you arching against him. His name tore from your lips, shattered and pleading, and the sound alone had him gripping your thigh hard enough to bruise.

You were warmth and fire, a temptation he should have resisted—but it was too late now.

He was too far gone.

And when his fingers finally sank into you, when your bodies joined in the dark, he swore he felt something divine.

But it was not the kind of divinity found in scripture.

It was something else entirely.

Something ruinous.

Something he would never repent for.

As he softly thrust his fingers inside you, he lost himself deeper in your intoxicating embrace, your bodies moving as if choreographed by some forbidden desire. The heat of your skin ignited a wildness within him, an urgency that drove him to the brink of ecstasy. Each gasp, each moan that escaped your lips became a prayer he dared not ignore.

He could feel the weight of sin hanging in the air, a heavy shroud that cloaked your shared moments in shadows. Yet in this sanctum of flesh and fire, he could not help but surrender. You were his salvation and damnation, the embodiment of every vow he had sworn to uphold.

All that remained was the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies entwined, the way your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as if to drown him in your essence. The sanctity of his title slipped away, lost in the tide of passion that washed over you both. In that fragile moment, nothing else mattered but the primal connection that bound you—raw, desperate, and impossibly beautiful.

His breaths quickened, mirroring the frantic beat of your heart, and as he held you close, he knew he was crossing a line he could never uncross. Yet, he found himself craving every second of this reckless abandon, reveling in the madness of it all. You were the chaos he never knew he needed, and as the waves of pleasure crashed over you, he realized he would embrace this ruinous bliss, even if it cost him everything.

Finally, the moment came when he could no longer hold back. With a fervent desperation, he removed his fingers and aligned himself with you, his heart pounding in sync with the primal rhythm of desire. He pushed forward, entering you slowly at first, savoring the feel of you enveloping him, a perfect fit that made every nerve in his body ignite. The world around you faded, leaving only the electric connection between you, a tether that pulled him deeper into your depths.

Your bodies gasped in unison, a beautiful symphony of longing and pleasure, and as he buried himself fully within you, it felt like a revelation. The culmination of every stolen glance, every heated touch, had led to this divine moment of surrender. He groaned your name, a guttural sound filled with both reverence and desperation, as he began to move, each thrust igniting the flames of passion even higher.

The darkness of the room was a cocoon, wrapping around you both as you lost yourselves in each other, hearts racing, breaths mingling. In this moment, he was no longer just a man of faith; he was a lover, a sinner, fully immersed in the ecstasy of taking you wholly.

The line between right and wrong blurred, and all that remained was the overwhelming rush of pleasure, the taste of your skin, the scent of your hair, the way your body responded to him, drawing him further into the abyss. He knew he should feel guilt, but instead, he felt alive, consumed by the fire you ignited within him—a fire that threatened to consume everything in its path.

In this moment of recklessness, he was reborn, finding solace in the chaos that surrounded you both. And as he lost himself deeper in the depths of your shared desire, he understood that this ruinous love was a fate he would embrace without hesitation.

He found a rhythm that echoed the frantic beat of your hearts, a perfect cadence of give and take that left you both breathless. His hands explored your body, tracing the curves and angles that were uniquely yours, each touch stoking the flames of desire higher. You arched against him, urging him on, your body begging for more as the intensity grew between you.

The world outside ceased to exist; there was only the two of you entwined in a dance of desperation and passion. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that sent waves of heat coursing through you. You tasted the need on his tongue, a hunger that matched your own, and it only drove you both further into the depths of ecstasy.

"Y/n," he breathed between kisses, his voice laced with both urgency and awe. "You feel so good."

Every thrust pushed you closer to the edge, and you wrapped your legs tighter around him, drawing him deeper, desperate for more. You could feel the tension building, a coiled spring ready to snap, and with every moment that passed, it became harder to hold on to your sanity. You wanted to let go, to fall into the bliss that awaited you.

He increased the pace, each movement a prayer of devotion and sin, and you could feel the heat pooling low in your belly, a storm brewing that threatened to overwhelm you. “Please,” you begged, the word spilling from your lips like a desperate plea, urging him on, craving the release that was so tantalizingly close.

He responded to your plea with fervor, driving into you with a relentless passion that left you gasping for breath. Your bodies became a singular entity, moving in perfect harmony, lost in a whirlwind of sensation. You could feel the pressure building, the sweet ache of anticipation coursing through you, drawing you closer and closer to the edge.

As your bodies intertwined, he reached between you, his fingers finding that sensitive spot that sent shockwaves of pleasure racing through you. You cried out, your voice rising in a melody of pure ecstasy, the sound filling the room as he pushed you further into bliss. The tension snapped, and you fell over the edge, your body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over you, pulling him along with you into the depths of your shared release.

You felt the world shift, the chaos fading away, leaving only the two of you in your beautiful ruin, breathless and intertwined. You were bound together by something deeper than desire—an understanding that this moment was both an ending and a beginning, a reckless leap into the unknown that you both craved.

The passion that followed was an echo—a lingering reverberation of every gasp, every trembling heartbeat. In the charged silence after your collision, time itself seemed to pause. Your skin, still aglow with the remnants of fire and sweat, bore witness to a union that defied both reason and restraint. He slowly pulls out of you, and allows you to set your feet on the ground, still holding onto you. His eyes dark with both longing and the hint of regret, met yours in a silent conversation that needed no words. It was as if every touch, every stolen breath, had carved its own memory into the fragile fabric of your souls. He pulls you into his arms, you had never felt something so comforting, so pure.

In that moment, the world around you dissolved into nothingness. There was an undeniable beauty in the chaos, a raw honesty in the vulnerability that followed the storm of desire. Each caress, each whispered promise, was a reminder that you had both surrendered to something wild and dangerous—a temptation that, even in its wake, felt transcendent. The very air between you shimmered with the remnants of your defiant abandon, a testament to a passion that promised to haunt you long after the night had faded.

And as the first hints of dawn crept in, casting a pale light over the tangled aftermath, you both knew that nothing would ever be the same. In the wake of that irreversible union, there lay the bittersweet knowledge that some fires, once kindled, become eternal. There was no room for repentance here, only the unyielding embrace of a destiny written in the language of desire—a destiny that was as ruinous as it was divine.

His voice came soft but without hesitation or doubt.

“Marry me.”

• • •

Taglist: @pixie-felix @daceydeath @vangoghsear0 <3 I probably forgot a few people :(

• • •

Health update: Okay so as most of you know, I was in a coma for a little while. They did a lot of tests and couldn’t figure out why so I’ll just pretend I was actually just sleeping lol. I’m stable now and my healing from surgery is still going really well, I’m just getting in-home care now. Now the only thing seemingly wrong with me (other than… all of that) is my mental health. That being said, I’m trying so hard to fix it ASAP because I miss interacting with everyone more than I can articulate. It feels impossible though, like I’ve suddenly forgotten how to talk to people. Which is only fuelling my depression so I’ll try my best to get over it soon. I love you all sosososososoooooooo much 💘 (2 of you more than anyone else, you probably know who you are)

[mylovesstuffs]

🌧️ | Tumblr Shadowban: My Experience + What You Should Know

Hey everyone! I’ve got quite a few asks about the whole shadowban situation during my shadowban—how I knew, what happened, and how I will know when it's solved etc etc. I didn’t answer right away bc I wasn’t sure how it would play out, but now that I’ve been through it [kinda], here’s a full breakdown of what happened, how I knew, and what I’ve learned after dealing with this mess. Hopefully this helps if you ever find yourself in Tumblr jail like I did lol:

FYI: I’m mostly back from Tumblr jail… BUT I’m still kinda half-ghost cause my tags are still broken. Since I rely on tags for my posts to actually reach people outside my follower list, I’m holding off on bringing my scheduled posts back to the front. So until Tumblr fully resurrects me and fixes this last bit, no new posts for now.

I’ll keep you updated, but for now… I’m still stuck halfway in the shadow realm.

No tags, no posts 😭

Also, everything I’ve shared about this shadowban stuff comes from my own experience dealing with it on my blog these past days, plus things I’ve learned after digging around the internet while I was stuck in the void.

Q: What happened?

Basically, Tumblr shadowbanned me out of nowhere. My blog still existed, but I was pretty much invisible to everyone except my existing followers. So unless you already followed me before the shadowban, you couldn’t see me on your dash, in tags, or anywhere else.

Q: What exactly is a shadowban?

A shadowban on Tumblr means your blog still technically functions and looks normal to you, but Tumblr has made you invisible to everyone else other than your pre-existing followers before the ban. You can post, reblog, and interact, but no one else could see it—unless they already followed you.

Q: How did you realize you were shadowbanned?

Here’s what tipped me off:

My Messages section disappeared on my main blog (but was still there on my side-blog).

I couldn’t DM anyone, but people could still DM me [I just wouldn’t receive the messages].

I noticed a huge drop in notes during this mess. I usually get 99+ notifications within 2-3 hours, but while shadowbanned, it barely hit 50 max because no one outside my followers could see my posts.

I could send asks, but no one would receive them [despite Tumblr saying ‘ask sent’].

I could receive asks, but I couldn't reply for some reason.

My likes/reblogs didn't go through, and my name didn’t appear in the notes section. So my likes + reblog didn't count.

I couldn’t reply or comment on posts at all.

I couldn’t tag anyone and no one could tag me either. It just didn’t work, because they couldn't find me [I didn't exist when I was banned]

My blog + posts didn’t show up in Tumblr search [obv].

My original posts likely didn’t show up on my followers’ dashboards [not sure, but if it did, pls lmk].

However, simple reblogs (without comments or tags) were still visible to my followers.

Q: Who could still see you?

Only my existing followers could still see me. No one outside of them could find me or my content. That’s why they were the only one to discover my shadowban announcement.

Q: Why does this happen?

It could be for a few reasons:

Tumblr flagged your blog as a potential bot or spammer.

Someone mass-reported your blog (even unfairly).

A simple Tumblr glitch (the most common culprit).

Q: How did you fix it?

I contacted Tumblr Support, but funnily enough, they never replied [at least, yet]. Out of nowhere, most functions started working again today, except my tags—they’re still glitchy. Apparently, this is common. Sometimes Tumblr ‘forgets’ to fully unban everything, so things like tags, asks, or replies might still act weird even after the shadowban is mostly lifted.

Q: But wait, tag's still broken?

Yep! While most things are now back to normal, my tags are still buggy. Based on what I’ve read, some people get stuck with broken tags, messages, asks, or replies even after the ban lifts and I happened to be stuck with broken tags. I can use them but they won't be useful for now [but imma still check lol].

Q: How long does it usually take to resolve a shadowban?

It varies a LOT.

For me, it lasted around 2 days before things kinda started going back to normal. But I’ve heard from others that it can take anywhere from a few hours to over a month, depending on how fast Support acts (or if it resolves itself, like mine might have).

My friend, Tiya @gyubakeries is shadowbanned for a few weeks now :( but mine got halfway lifted in just two days [tho, my draft issues still stand]

Some only get fully unbanned after repeated tickets to Support.

Q: What should you do if you’re shadowbanned?

Contact Tumblr Support right away with clear details about what’s happening.

Don’t panic if they don’t reply immediately (or at all).

Avoid spamming multiple tickets—wait 5-7 days before following up.

Feel free to reblog this if you think it’ll help someone else! And thanks to everyone who stuck with me while I was screaming into the void.

⌦ ⛓️ © mylovesstuffs | est. 2025. still fighting my way out of Tumblr jail—your support = lifesaver. until I’m free, stay cozy & keep dreaming! ◜ᴗ◝

[itsmebeff]

im new here is there like a masterpost about your au, or can you give a basic rundown of it for any noobs like me

I do have an introductary post but it is SLIGHTLYYY outdated bc i keep forgetting to update it so i will link it here and show the updated sprites and give a summary!!

So, Agrotale is an AU based on the Queen Alphys neutral ending you can get by abandoning a geno route in Hotland. Which means that Toriel, Papyrus, Undyne, Mettaton, and Asgore are all dead. The fallen human, Everett, must traverse the underground and avoid being captured by the Royal Guard and escorted to the Queen. The name Agrotale comes from the fact that Everett is a gardener and helps with the Underground's agriculture after a malfunction in the CORE limits food supply.

Anyways, here are some sprites:

Characters shown above (in order): Everett, Muffet, December Holiday, Noel Holiday, Carol Holiday, Grillby, Fuku Fire, Monster Teen, Suzy, Birdly, Jockington, Catti, Mad Mew Mew, Gerson, Queen Alphys, Sans.

Queen Alphys

Sans, the Queen's Right Hand Man slash Jester slash Bodyguard slash Royal Scientist slash... uhm.. what the hell is this guy's deal actually?

Dess, head of the Royal Guard.

Carol, the Royal Advisor to the Queen.

Alphys's Room

Some Sans Doodles

Some Queen Alphys Doodles

So, yeah!! That's about it... the other post linked above goes into more detail abt character roles and stuff like that.. I hope you enjoy!! And if you still have questions I will be happy to answer them :P

[visionofhope04]

Here for the angst of neglected batsis, imagine or hc them of moving out if the house when they are 18 and let's say they meet some spirit and they have their memory wiped and transfer to the marvel universe to restart their life and more happy, then the dc/marvel merge together because of a big threat and batfam sees batsis is heavily pregnant and married to our favorite deadpool charater Colossus?

How would they reached if batsis just can't remember them and keeps on telling them they have the wrong person?

I LIKE THE WAY YOU THINK. Guess who's back!! Sorry it took me so long to get this out, I haven't had the motivation to write until recently. Also OOC warning bc I don't really know him well besides the Deadpool movies. I almost freaked out bc I haven't used the tumblr website in so long and it got updated so I thought I lost all my drafts. So glad they're still here, whew. Not beta read so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes!

---

It's been a year since moving into your apartment and you couldn't be happier. College was going well and you were taking classes you enjoyed. However, you haven't made any friends yet which led you to spend your free time reading or surfing the web. Jason didn't come by much due to having his own life and vigilante things, which you understood. It didn't mean you couldn't be a little bit sad about it though.

Even though you were enjoying your life, you still felt as if there was something missing. You'd been trying to figure out why you had felt this way but nothing came to mind. Any time you tried to brush off the feeling, it came back stronger. You did your best to ignore it and continue on with life, but it was always there, nagging you.

It had been a long day. College was so stressful. Your professors kept hurling projects at you that had deadlines that were practically impossible to meet. You just wanted it to end already and be on summer break. Then, you’d be able to sleep how long you wanted to without the fear of being late for class or forgetting to complete an assignment.

You sat down at your desk and pulled out your laptop, preparing to continue an essay that was due in three days. Suddenly, you began to feel nauseous. Confused, you attempted to ignore the feeling in favor of completing the essay. A few seconds after trying to focus on your laptop screen, you saw a bright light.

"My child, you will be saved from this life." A strangely comforting voice said.

Then everything faded to black.

---

"Hello?!"

A voice. A voice? But you live alone and no one has the spare key to your apartment. You slowly opened your eyes, groaning and quickly shutting them again once a bright light blinded you.

"Oh you're alive, thank God. Can you speak?" Whoever this was seemed to have been panicking before, slightly less though now that you had indicated you were alive. You groan as you push yourself up off of what seems to be concrete. Concrete? You're definitely not in your apartment. You crack your eyes open again, this time with less difficulty, and come face to face with white lenses of a mask. Blinking again, you register that the lenses are attached to a red material with black lines.

"Ah!"

"AH!" The figure yells and jumps back, startled by your sudden surprise.

"What the hell are you supposed to be?" You asked, tilting your head slightly to the side.

"What do you mean? I'm Spiderman." His voice was a bit high pitched, he sounded like a teen at most.

"Spiderman? You've got to be joking. There is no Spiderman. Go home kid, crime fighting isn't a game." Sure, you may be a hypocrite, seeing as you are an ex-assassin who began learning how to kill at around 5, but at least you had training. What did this Spiderman have? From how startled he was, you assumed he had barely been trained, if at all.

“What? I'm literally Spiderman! I'm Queens' hero!"

"Queens, New York?" You thought you'd still be in New Jersey at least.

"Uh yeah. I don't think there are any other places called Queens that have a Spiderman."

"Again, Spiderman? Seriously? You couldn't think of a better name at least?"

"Hey! There's nothing wrong with Spiderman!"

"Sure kid, keep telling yourself that."

He was about to protest when suddenly, someone else dropped into the alley.

"Hey Spidey, who's this lovely lady?" A person in an all red with black suit with two swords on his back and guns strapped to his waist called out. The person seemed to be a male, around 30 years old.

"This 'lovely lady' is very confused. Who are you?" They keep multiplying, and you'd never seen this person either.

"Did you hit your head or something? You've never heard of or seen Deadpool? The most handsomest, most awesomest, funniest, killer crime fighter?"

"Uh nope. Also, I'm from Jersey, how did I end up here?"

"Good question. What's your name?"

"Oh, it's-" You stopped in confusion. "I actually don't remember. It was just at the tip of my tongue but I don't remember."

"Oh great! Amnesia! Just what we need. I'll let you handle her Spidey and I'll go stop some bad guys, 'kay?"

"What! No, don't leave me here!" Deadpool was already sprinting away.

"Let's get you to the base. Colossus and the others will know what to do."

---

They did not, in fact, know what to do. Colossus sent Negasonic and Yukio to contact Professor X, while Spiderman went to contact Tony Stark (I'm still emotionally scarred from Endgame so no, he won't be dead, this is my fanfic and I can keep him alive if I want to) and Deadpool went back out to patrol. You were left alone with Colossus.

Uncomfortable silence sat between you. Just as you were beginning to get antsy, Colossus broke it first.

"Do you remember anything at all?"

"I'm... a college student. I live alone in an apartment in New Jersey, I think. I used to fight crime until... I don't know, it's fuzzy. I'm an ex-assassin who has been training since I was 5. That's all I remember."

"You can remember that but not your name?"

"Look, I don't know okay? I don't know what's happening or why I can't remember anything else. I want to remember who I am, but I can't. And it's so... so frustrating! Your suspicion is understandable, but it is not helping."

"I apologize. This is a stressful situation for you. I will be more considerate."

"Thank you."

---

They could not figure out what happened to you or why you suddenly appeared in Queens one day. Your memory remained fuzzy, so you were stuck. As time passed, you and Colossus grew closer. You became so close that he told you his real name, you became a couple, and you got married. Seven years passed, you were 25 and you'd been trying for a baby. You both felt the time was right and that you'd be able to handle parenting.

Colossus came home from work one day, spent and tired. There you were, waiting for him at the door as usual.

"Hi my love, long day?" You fiddled with the positive pregnancy test behind your back.

"Yes darling, when is it not?"

"Well, we're going to have to figure something out, because there's no way I'll wake up every night to take care of our baby."

He looked confused, then realization hit. "You're..?" He looked so happy and hopeful, you couldn't contain your happiness. A huge smile lit up your face.

"Yes, we're finally going to be parents!" You pulled out the pregnancy test and held it up to him.

He laughed a joyful laugh, tears began to fall from the corners of his eyes as he embraced you. It must've been infectious because you began to tear up too. You remained in each other's embrace for a while, just existing in the moment. Time felt irrelevant as you basked in your shared delight.

---

8 months later, your belly had swollen and grown. Everyone was happy for the both of you. You and Colossus were both eager for your little one to arrive. You'd both decided to wait for birth to find out the gender. It didn't matter to you whether it was a boy or girl, just that they were healthy (gender's a construct anyway). The pregnancy had been going great so far, but this time of easy-going was about to get ruined by your husband's job.

---

Your world had merged with another because of some cosmic threat. Great! Your husband would be preoccupied trying to fix the situation, which meant that you'd be alone. Selfishly, you wished that they could let your husband stay with you so close to your due date, but you knew he had a role to play in saving two worlds.

Seeing your loneliness, Colossus decided to bring you with him to the Avengers' base. He hoped you'd be able to befriend some of the people there. You entered the compound and your eyes were drawn to some men standing beside a set of double doors. They all had suits on, black hair (one guy had two white streaks in his hair) and most had blue eyes, except for one man who had green eyes. He was also noticeably the darkest of the group. They felt familiar to you, especially the man with green eyes. Have you met them before? Who were they?

As your husband was discussing some details about the meeting, you couldn't help but watch the group of men. Not knowing why you thought you knew them annoyed you. As if they could feel your eyes on them (they could), they turned around in sync and locked eyes with you.

Their eyes widened and they all exclaimed your name in various degrees of disbelief. They rushed over to you and your husband protectively stepped in front of you

"How do you know my wife?"

"Wife?!" Some of them shouted. They were beginning to cause a scene.

"You're pregnant." The one with green eyes observed. He seemed to be having some sort of crisis.

All their eyes darted to your belly, making you uncomfortable. You placed your hand over your stomach and attempted to discretely hide behind your husband. This did not go unnoticed by them.

"You don't remember us?" The shortest of them questioned.

"No, I've never met you guys." You were very confused.

The man who appeared to be the oldest said your name. You stared at him as he studied your eyes, presumably to see if you were lying. It made you feel vulnerable and unsettled, couldn't they leave you alone?

"We're your family."

The guy with the white streaks in his hair scoffed. "You didn't treat her like she was family. I was the only one who cared for her when she was younger while you all ignored her and let her suffer. I'm glad she doesn't remember what you all did to her. She's clearly living a much better life without you lot in it."

This was getting more confusing by the second, although you felt there was truth to his words. Did you forget these people? They seemed very convincing if they were lying.

"I'm sorry but I really don't remember you guys. Maybe you have the wrong person?"

"No we don't! You disappeared one day and now that we've finally found you, you're saying you forgot everything!"

"That is enough. Please leave my wife alone, she does not know you, and she does not need the unnecessary stress of trying to remember people she's never met. Do not approach her anymore." Colossus guided you away from the men, who stared longingly at you. The heartbroken expressions they had after your husband's speech would follow you often. Were you sure you'd never met them before?

---

Words: 1,847

[almostempty]

belated or early wip post bc time is an illusion

Shout out to everyone who tags me in wip posts, I love seeing your updates and you inspire me to keep going, I’m a few weeks behind but thanks to, @mermaidgirl30 @djarins-cyare (i was so flattered ty) @itwasntimethatdidit40 @gothcsz @syd-djarin @auteurdelabre @sunshinehaze1 @baronessvonglitter @thundermartini (I’m sure I’m forgetting more of y’all but ily too)

shout out to the babes who sent asks about Paris, Tx u complete me and inspired me so much 💗

A few snips below ⬇️

More Paris coming next, I promise. Here’s a taste:

Makin progress on creed!joel’s date aka we’re getting to the fuckening soon (totally not accidentally setting the bar high with that whoops)

And for my next trick, I’ve got a real series in the works.. like with chapters planned out.. an outline etc. it’s an angsty snippet that doesn’t reveal much ..heheh, but never fear it’s me so.. the plot still revolves around the porn. thinking of calling it ‘Mrs Miller’

tags for babes if you wanna share anything you’re workin on one day: @lovely-vamp-princess @swankyorange @magneticecstasy

@ace-turned-confused @pinkypromisepascal @probablyreadinsmut

tags for @94namkooksworld bc ily and @smellslikenevermore for getting me to work on Paris and anyone else who has been kind or supportive or feral I love you too 💗 i’m slow but still typin away whenever I can!

If you were tagged and not interested in any of this, here’s a gif and a telepathic forehead kiss for your time ty:

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Whumpee (Nico) Drugged for His Own Good part 8

Warnings: post-tortured, severe paranoia issues, perceived betrayal by friends

Nico's fingers were trembling as he scrolled to the top of the texts, reading them one by one. The top one arrived yesterday, the day of his escape.

Medic: u got our boy?

Amelia: yeah. I'll keep him safe and recovering. He just needs a break from you guys. He took your betrayals pretty hard. Was there really no other way you could have gone about getting him that surgery?

Marcus: I feel terrible about it, but he was refusing to let us help him. The shrapnel could have killed him if we didn't get it out.

Medic: as a professional surgeon, I must agree. His situation was dire. He was letting past trauma get the best of him which is why he didn't want us to knock him out to take care of the shrapnel. We had to intervene bc it was clear he wasn't capable of making reasonable choices on his own.

Amelia: drugging his drink was still a jerk move tho. He's absolutely terrified of everything, really shaken up now. He's having a hard time even trusting ME, and I wasn't even involved in your awful shenanigans.

Marcus: at least he was willing to let YOU help him. He choked me out shortly after he woke up the first time after surgery.

Medic: and shot me in the leg during his little escape rampage. Ouch.

Amelia: can you blame him tho? You drugged him and forced him into a surgery he didn't want. You completely broke his trust. I'd be scared of you guys too.

Marcus: we know. That's why we sent u in to try and get through to him instead. U can take care of him better than we can right now. We believe in you girl!

Amelia: ugh. I'm always cleaning up your guys' messes. I better get some serious brownie points after this.

Nico's breaths were shallow and tight in his chest as he scrolled down further, to the texts that came in today.

Dang it. Amelia HAD taken the opportunity of his distraction to message his ex-friends. Curse it all!

Marcus: status update?

Amelia: he's doing a little better today -- but he's not all there mentally. He made me throw out a whole breakfast so he could personally supervise me remaking it to make sure it wasn't drugged. U guys really messed him up inside.

Medic: what took you so long to reply? You're not usually this slow??

Amelia: Nico again. He literally confiscated my phone bc he didn't want to risk me texting u all.

Medic: dang. That bad, eh?

Marcus: yikes.

Amelia: yikes is right.

Marcus: when do you think he'll be okay coming back here? I need to apologize for what happened -- u were right, I should have tried harder to find a different way to help than outright drugging him.

Amelia: dunno. But don't get your hopes up on it being anytime soon.

Medic: don't forget to change Nico's wound dressings at least twice a day. Just a quick reminder.

Amelia: I know what I'm doing. Don't worry.

Medic: sorry for pestering -- we're just worried about him back here at the facility.

Amelia: I think he's almost done with breakfast, so I've gtg now. Not sure when I'll be able to message again. He's guarding my phone like a dang Doberman.

Marcus: 😅

Medic: 🤔

Marcus: Thanks for the info.

Nico turned the phone off, his own shocked reflection staring back at him on the black screen. His skin was pale and clammy with fear.

It all made sense now -- why no one had tried to stop him or Amelia when she helped him out of the facility to escape. It was because his team had let her take him away. Every second of his escape had been carefully orchestrated and planned.

Because his team knew he would take Amelia's offer of assistance, even when he was scared and injured and distrusting. Knew he wouldn't accept it from anyone else. Even now they were meddling in his business, waiting like vultures for when he'd be healed up enough to return back to the facility. Maybe they'd even have the audacity to request he resume his role as leader again.

His team members had decided to let him heal up elsewhere since he'd been too freaked out to let any of them near him. They thought they were doing what was best for Nico's recovery, allowing him some relief and distance from them all.

Nico's blood boiled with anger and fear. His friends had all turned against him. Even Amelia, who he'd foolishly had a tiny sliver of hope would be the lesser evil out of his whole team.

He was wrong. So terribly wrong. She was as bad as the others were. Pretending to be so caring while working behind his back like this.

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