#if I'm going to get to this more often...

[lalalaugenbrot]

also i learnt this semester that in 1960 only 6% (!!!!) of german students/youths made their abitur so i would like every person who's parents or grandparents or even great-grandparents!! have abitur or went to university even to do a little reality check and understand that they're from a very privileged and not normal family because i hate the way people from academic backgrounds assume everyone around them has an academic family background too, because let me tell you that is just very unlikely!!!!

[very-merry-birthday]

Gluttony

Lust Gluttony Envy Sloth Greed Pride Wrath

Summary: You help the brothers out of tricky situation, and Dean thanks you the best way he knows how.

Warnings: Smut (car sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms)

A/N: Yes, this has been a seven deadly sins series all along!

You picked at your fries lazily as you relaxed against the grimy booth of the diner, watching the place carefully. You'd been following the same man for two days after a string of murders had landed you in a town not far from home. You saw as he began to stand up, making his way to leave.

Your phone began to buzz in your pocket, a number you didn't recognize. Normally you wouldn't answer calls like that, but you were waiting for some information, and wanted to end this hunt as quickly as possible.

"This is a prepaid call from "Hey Sweetheart", at the Washington County correctional facility, all phone calls are subject to recording and monitoring, to accept this call press one now."

You could instantly tell it was Dean, his voice just as deep over the phone as in person. You pressed #1 as you wedged your phone between your ear and your shoulder, standing to follow the man as you gathered up your belongings.

"Hey darlin', you picked up!" He seemed almost surprised on the other end, but kept his cool.

"What's going on, I'm in a rush." You pushed the door open, following him from a distance.

"Awe- I just thought a booty call might be fun right now?" His voice was laced in sarcasm.

"I'm being serious, Dean, what do you need?"

He sucked his breath in through his teeth, "Ya see sweetheart, we might have found ourselves in a bit of trouble over here and... well we need someone to come bail us out."

"I'm busy..." You sighed, finally grabbing the phone again in your hand.

"We'll see you soon!"

The line clicked, going dead as he hung up. You wanted to leave him there, teach him a lesson, but you knew you just had to see him. You looked over at the man walking away, letting out a deep sigh before turning on your heel, returning the way you came.

-

You pulled up around the corner from the tiny jail- more just a police station- checking your face again in the mirror before climbing out of the car, your heels clicking against the sidewalk. It wasn't often that you dressed professionally, the tight button up and skirt feeling claustrophobic against your body, but you knew it would work far better than your usual jeans and flannels.

You made your way in, the afternoon just starting to break into evening as a chill hit the air, and walked to the front desk, a young cop on the other side barely making note of you.

"I'm here for the brothers."

"You posting bail or you their lawyer?" He didn't look up from the screen in front of him.

"Their lawyer."

He nodded, "Take a seat, someone will come get you in a minute."

You did as he said, sitting down as you took in the room. You swallowed hard, you lied for a living, that bit was easy, but having to see Dean after three months without him- that would be slightly harder.

After what felt like too long you saw a cop approaching you, reaching out his hand to shake it, "You here for those boys?"

He was an older guy, barely any hair left on his head, a small coffee stain on his shirt that looked fresh. You weighed up your approach in your mind. Seductive felt odd, this guy was old enough to be your father, possibly even grandfather, and he wasn't trying to hide it. Relentless seemed wrong too, he clearly had a knowledge of the job and you knew clamping down on him would only cause him to fight back. So instead you stood, shaking his hand with a warm smile spread across your face. The friendly approach.

"I am indeed, sir."

"Names Officer Branning, I'm gonna get you to follow me."

He led you down a series of florescent flooded hallways until you were stood outside and interrogation room. You'd seen your fair few before, but normally you were in the same position as the boys. The officer pushed open the door and Dean looked up, his eyes widening in surprise as he saw you walk in.

"You should've told us you called your lawyer, son." The officer moved to sit opposite him, taking a sip of his coffee.

You saw Sam shift in his seat, looking between you and his brother, clearly confused.

"And can I ask what exactly my clients have been arrested for?" You took your own seat next to Dean, you could tell he was still gawking at you out of the corner of your eye.

"Well your boys here have been convicted of section A1 of the Burglary Statute. A house downtown, we get a phone call about suspicious activity and who do we find when we turn up, these two, both in possession of guns, which I don't have to tell you is of course a felony."

You turned to look at them properly for the first time, both of them shifting awkwardly in their seats. You knew that Sam would have already tried every trick in the lawyer book- and at least he had the Harvard experience compared to your Breaking Bad and Law and Order qualifications. He turned back towards the officer, not wanting to seem suspicious. Dean, however, couldn't care less, his eyes raking your body.

He'd never seen you dressed like this: all office siren, your hair pulled back, heels on. He had to admit he liked it, almost as much as he enjoyed you in your hunting gear, covered in grime and blood and sweat... Almost.

You turned back away, his gaze sending heat to the back of your neck. The officer looked behind the three of you, another sip of coffee, he was clearly already checked out for the day, his eyes on the clock above your heads. Sam might have the knowledge, the actual lawyer skills, but you were starting to think your pop culture education might be more likely to get you all out of here.

"Look I'm not gonna sit here and say these two men haven't been foolish, of course they have." You glanced over at them, Sam's eyes going wider, Dean clearly not listening as he watched the way your lips moved, "Entering a dwelling that doesn't belong to them, sure, that looks bad, I'm not denying that. But I do think it's important to note that they didn't use their guns, no one here got hurt, right? And is that not the most important thing?"

The officer nodded slowly. Sam looked between you and him, unable to understand how this actually seemed to be working.

"No one killed, no one injured, gosh not even a paper cut! Secondly, burglary, sir-" you chuckled lightly, "Do you have any proof of that? That they were actually intending to steal anything? Do we even have proof that they broke into the property? As far as I can tell these idiots most likely walked into a house that didn't belong to them, merely out of confusion!"

"I'm not sure-"

"Officer Branning, was it?" You smiled at him warmly, trying to put forth your least threatening expression, "You and I both know the perils of this system. A day in court, those uncomfortable seats they'll make you sit in as you wait to speak, only for what, all of five minutes!?"

He chuckled lightly at your apparent exasperation, "Less than that!"

"Less! A whole day wasted just because these two idjits don't know their own address! And I'm sure the jury will see that- just look at them they couldn't organize a back yard grill let alone a burglary!"

Sam put on his best puppy dog pout and Dean grinned from ear to ear as the officer looked at them both.

"I really don't want to waste your time, and I don't think you want to waste mine either. These are good boys, good god-fearing folk, they've just made a mistake. Surely a slap on the wrist and we can both go home happy?"

"These boys committed a crime-" he looked above your head again, eyeing the clock.

"Who've you got at home, Officer Branning?" You leant back in your seat, smiling at him.

"I'm not sure how that's important?" He questioned, his face flushing with confusion.

"You keep looking at the clock, sir, you got someone worth rushing off for?"

He smiled back, looking down at his coffee, "My wife. It's our anniversary, I was supposed to be home three hours ago but got stuck sat with these two-"

"How many years?" You leant forward. Dean eyed you carefully. He liked seeing you confident like this. He thought back to the last time he'd seen you, the church, your mouth pressed against his ear speaking sin. You'd finished that hunt only a few days later, Sam finally relenting in the knowledge there was no way he'd be able to keep you apart. But that was three months ago, and he hadn't expected to see you this soon. And yet, looking a you now, he realized just how much he'd missed you. He watched as your mouth curled into another warm smile. It made his stomach flip as he tried to suppress the thought.

"Forty-four." He sighed, taking another sip of coffee, "Feels like yesterday we got married, not that I'd ever tell her that."

You reached out to his hand, holding it gently, "Officer, I know it's been a real long day, and I'd hate for it to become an even longer night. I'm sure she deserves you home by now?"

He swallowed hard, looking between the three of you. "What the hell, fine!"

Sam almost fell out of his seat in shock. Dean had to hold himself back from kissing you there and then.

--

Dean's arm was wrapped around your waist before you'd even left the station. You knew he didn't care about who saw, but you also knew you had to get out of there before anyone stopped you.

You all skipped out, keeping your heads down, a smile plastered on all of your faces. Once you were far enough away Dean finally broke, loud laughter coming from his lips.

Sam shook his head with a smirk, "How the hell did you manage that?"

Dean pulled you in closer, lazily kissing your shoulder as you and Sam spoke.

"What, Harvard boy can't understand what an expert lawyer looks like?" You laughed. You knew ignoring Dean's advances was only riling him up more.

"Thought you were only coming to bail us out?" Sam shook his head again.

"If you think I'm spending a dime on you two you're more stupid than I thought." You started to walk back to your car, "Come on, both of you, let me give you a lift."

Dean broke away from you, looking over to his brother, "Go for a walk, Sam."

"Dean it's-"

"Go for a walk." His face turned stern.

Sam rolled his eyes, giving you another baffled smirk before walking away again, his hands sliding into his pockets. Dean pulled you into him again, his mouth attacking your neck. You dragged him towards your car, your hand combing through his hair.

You lifted his face up to look at you as you pouted, "That was mean..."

"He knew the deal the second you walked in wearing that get up." His hand reached down to your ass, inelegantly squeezing it.

"You still shouldn't leave him out in the cold like this."

"Be quiet sweetheart," he kissed you jaw heavily, "just let me show you how thankful I am."

He pushed you against the side of your car, his hands wandering over your body as you scrambled for your keys. You broke your face away from him for a moment as you put your key in the lock, your eyes looking into your own car through the window.

You hadn't really thought about the fact he'd be here, climbing into your car. Even if his mouth wasn't fixed to your neck, you'd still offered him a lift, he'd have seen it one way or another, but it still felt weirdly intimate. Car sex- that was normal. More normal for you two than sex in a bed. But it was always the Impala, a car you had to admit oozed seduction. It had space to move around, to stretch out on the plush vinyl seats. Your car was small, beaten up, only just big enough for you to sleep in on cold nights when all the motels were full. And yet here you were, welcoming him into a space normally reserved only for you.

He didn't seem to care, though, as he guided you into the back seat, pressing himself against your body as he moved to lay above you. You shifted awkwardly, trying to fit your bodies into the small space, a blanket stuffed under your back, old takeout containers on the floor next to you.

He kisses your neck, grazing it with his teeth as you softened into the shape of his body. He tugged at your clothes, his hand sliding up your thigh, pushing your skirt up to your hips. You were suddenly very thankful for the dark descending outside.

You pushed your body up slightly as he continued his movements down, his fingers finally pressing against the middle of your underwear, "Tsk- thought I'd get another pleasant surprise."

He gently circled your clit through the fabric, sending gentle warmth through you, "I got you out of there, didn't I?"

He smiled, "Oh yeah, I was showing my gratitude wasn't I?" He kissed the inside of your thigh, "What's our record, sweetheart?"

"Three..."

He shook his head with a smile.

This had long been a point of contention between you. He insisted that since he'd been able to make you come five times in one day, your record should be five. You contended that since you'd split between a session first thing in the morning and another one in the evening, where he'd made you come three times, your record should be three. Of course, he'd also promised you if he had a full day, and an actual bed, he'd make you come so many times you would pass out.

But he wasn't in the mood to argue.

He hooked his fingers around the sides of your underwear, dragging it down your legs as he sucked in a sharp breath, eyes fixed on you.

He pressed his tongue against your clit without any warning, your hand reaching out to grab hold of his hair as you steadied your breathing.

"Fuck darlin, you always taste incredible."

He spit hard, using his saliva as lube as he dove back in, his tongue lapping you up. You rolled your hips into him, needy for his friction. No one knew you quite like him, knew just where to touch you to bring you to the brink.

He pressed his mouth against you, alternating between pushing his tongue inside you and circling your clit in a steady rhythm. You could barely breath as you felt his tongue glide through your folds, savouring your wetness, his mouth curling into an amused smile as he listened to your gasps.

Right when he felt you tensing up he focused all his attention onto your clit, sending you over the edge as you gripped onto his hair, rolling your head back in a pornographic moan. He kept his movements quick as you came, your body shaking as he kept up the stimulation.

Your body sunk back against the seat, your head pressed against the inside of your cardoor as you tried to shed the pounding in your ears. He pulled away, kissing along your leg.

"You got a pen anywhere in here sweetheart?" He looked around, you were suddenly aware once again of the state of your car.

You leant down, rustling your hand on the floor without looking until you landed on the marker you knew you'd left there, handing it to him.

He held the lid between his teeth, popping it open and drawing a short line on your inner thigh, "That's one."

You bit your lip as you looked down at him marking your skin, taking you as his own.

He began to kiss up your leg again, making his way back towards your core.

You let your hand comb through his sweat ridden hair, breathing hard, "Just give me a minute, yeah?"

"What, and ruin this gorgeous high you've got going on? No chance, darlin'." He pressed his tongue against you again, slower this time, gently stroking it through your wetness.

You groaned, rolling your head back as he sucked lightly at your swollen clit. He knew how sensitive you got after you came, and he fully intended to use it to his advantage.

He teased the tip of his finger at your entrance, feeling as your pussy pulsed around him. He moaned against you, sending the vibrations through your body. Pushing his finger into you, you bit your bottom lip again, swallowing down any other noises.

He began thrusting into you slowly, even one finger filling you as his tongue sped up its movements. You arched your back into him, a second orgasm rising quickly. He pushed another finger into you, stretching you out, your breath shaking as you shut your eyes again.

He sucked on your clit again, pushing another desperate wave of pleasure through you. You reached out, seeking stability on the seats around you as you felt your body clench again. And then release. He slowed his movements, only just, as you came again on his tongue, your legs tightening up around him.

"Dean- fuck-" you couldn't stop your sounds, your body quaking.

You guided his face away from you as you let your body relax again into the seat, his movements almost to much to bare as he gently pulled his fingers out of you, sticking them in his mouth to continue savouring your taste.

Without a word, he reached down for the marker he'd thrown to one side, wetting his lips as he drew another line next to the first, "That's two."

He went to press his mouth against you again but you stopped him, cupping his cheek to get him to look at you, "Really, baby, can't take much more."

Baby wasn't a nickname you used. Not for him, not ever. But as your mind stayed fogged from your pleasure you didn't even realize you'd said it. And he didn't mind- his face tingling with secret enjoyment.

He lifted himself off of you, pushing the marker behind his ear as he moved quickly, his hands wrapping around your waist as he moved to sit, pulling you on top of him in a straddle. You slumped against him, your body exhausted, your forehead pressed against his.

"We'll never break our record with that attitude, sweetheart."

"It's just your tongue, Dean, i's'too much-" you kissed him lightly, his lips plump against yours.

"Well why don't we go at your pace then, darlin'?" He held your hips, lowering you down onto his leg. You bit your lip as you felt you pussy come into contact with the jeans on his thigh, rough against your sensitive bundle of nerves.

He pushed your hips gently, getting you to rut against him. You held his shoulders to keep yourself steady as you began moving, harsh pleasure hitting you instantly.

"Dean- fuck- it's too-"

He kissed you, his thumbs rubbing small circles into your hips, "That's it, nice and slow, keep yourself steady for me."

You focused on his voice as he guided you through it, grinding against his thigh with your breath held.

"Good girl, that's it." He moved one hand to your stomach, commanding your movements, "You're doing so well for me, darlin', that feel good?"

You collapsed your body into him, your head leaning against his shoulder, "Oomf- fuck- yes-"

"Good girl, good girl, keep moving, keep your pussy on me. Fuck- I can feel how wet you are even through my jeans-" he chuckled lightly, kissing the top of your head, "You look so good grinding on me- gonna get you to do this every time if you're not careful."

You gripped your hand around his bicep, your fingers pressed into him as you felt another orgasm rising inside you.

"Keep yourself steady, sweetheart- focus on your body. You feel that? Feel that sweet spot- you're screaming out for more, I can tell- let it fill you up, that excess, darlin', let it consume you. Keep moving, there's a good girl, you want to come again, don't y'? You wanna come on my thigh?"

You nodded into his shoulder, a small whimper falling out of your lips in desperation.

"Be a good girl for me, sweetheart, be good." He spoke softer as he pressed his lips against your skin, "Come for me."

You did as he commanded, your body quaking as you rutted against him, your fingers digging into him, letting out a loud cry, another orgasm taking control as your body quaked. Your movements began to slow but he kept his hands tight on you, keeping your grinding steady as you rode it out.

He pressed his mouth into your neck, soft kisses as you lifted yourself off his thigh, straddling him properly again, your body still shaking slightly as you tried to come back to reality, blinking hard. He leant back, carefully checking your face for confirmation you were okay, before kissing you again.

He pushed you backwards slightly to give himself better access as he took the pen from behind his ear, once again pulling off it's cap with his teeth and placing it between your legs, drawing another small line, "That's three, darlin'."

"Jesus, Dean, you'll be the death of me!" You sighed, coming to your senses.

You looked down, watching as he carefully palmed the bulge growing in his pants, "You think you can take one more?"

You nodded slowly, however spent you felt, you still wanted his cock buried inside you.

You watched as he quickly undid his belt with one hand, pulling at the top of his pants as his other hand gripped your hip tight again. His cock sprung free, solid and throbbing, watching you come so many times already pushing him to the edge. He guided you above him, lining himself up with you, before gently lowering you down, his cock sinking into your already sensitive opening.

He held your hips still as he began to thrust into you from below, watching you carefully. He pressed his mouth into your neck, small kisses across your skin as you moaned into him, your body shaking with pleasure.

Once his pace was steady he began moving his hands over you, ghosting your curves with the pads of his fingers, gentle movements, his digits hot against you, sending soft tingles all over your body. He let one hand slide under your shirt, brushing over your breast, his thumb grazing your nipple only slightly.

"You feel so good, sweetheart." He sped up his thrusting, his own heartbeat stuck in his throat as he felt your pussy tight around him.

You began to roll your own hips in time with him, pushing him deeper until he was completely filling you, your sensitive clit colliding with him on every pound. You moved your hands to his chest, steadying yourself as you both moved, the small car filled with hot breath.

He groaned, desperate, his fingers dancing over your nipples, sending shivers through you. He swallowed hard, his eyes locked on yours, "You close?"

You bit your lip, nodding in response as you felt another orgasm rise in you, his cock stretching you out.

"That's it, keep going, wanna feel you coming on my cock, darlin'."

His words send another spike of pleasure through you as you continued to roll your hip, his thrusting from below only becoming harder. You screwed up your hands in the fabric of his shirt, the tension filling you once again. You couldn't focus on anything but your dam about to burst.

"Dean, I'm gonna-"

He pressed his lips against yours as you came, a moan escaping your lips flowing into his mouth as he pushed into you, hard, your pussy contracting around his cock. Stars danced behind your eyes as you continued to move your body, your climax skewering the coil in your stomach.

The moment he felt your movements falter, Dean pulled out, his own orgasm spilling out of him without warning, his cum plastering your thigh. He let out a groan as your hand reached down instinctively, stroking him through his completion, your thumb pressed against his tip.

You both sat panting, your bodies covered in sweat and each other, as your movements slowed, both of you twitching in relief. After a moment you rolled off of him, taking your seat next to him as you pulled your blanket up to wipe his cum off of your leg. He watched you carefully before reaching back out to you, pen in hand, and drawing the final tally mark on your leg.

"That's four, new record." He smiled at you, hooking his finger under your chin for a kiss.

You shook your head, smiling as your bliss started to slump again, "You shouldn't have called, Dean, I was busy..."

"Oh yeah, hot date?" He pushed his cock back into his pants, beginning to buckle them back up as he chuckled.

"Yeah, smoking hot, tall dark and handsome." You watched as his expression faltered slightly, doubt creeping in. "A murderous demon with an appetite for murder, what's not to love!"

He relaxed again, lowering his shoulders and swallowing hard.

You waited a beat before opening up your door again, climbing out as you pulled your skirt back down. He followed your lead, stepping out into the cold night air, trying to pull himself together as he watched you do the same. Both of you were messy, clearly sexed out, the pen tally, although now hidden, still burning into your thigh, a small patch on his jeans from where you'd ridden him.

You slid back into the driver's seat, letting him clamber into the passenger side, a position neither of you were used to when around each other.

"Come on," you sighed, "let's go find your brother."

"He'll've reached the motel by now, sweetheart, we weren't exactly quick." He eyed you carefully, "You hungry?"

"I could eat."

"Let's get burgers."

"What, just us?"

"C'mon sweetheart, my treat, give you a proper thank-you."

[monicahar]

bark like you want it...?

in which you jokingly treat them like a pet.

characters; phainon, mydeimos, anaxagoras

— gender neutral reader, established relationships, fluff, sugestive at anaxa's part, need ts after the hellscape the current amphoreus is in andddd hi yes im back with a kinda fun idea and uhhhh yeah sleep pronto (*ﾟ▽ﾟ)ﾉ

It was supposed to be all fun and games. you'd say 'sit' and you'd expect him to raise a brow or two before whining about how you're treating him rudely. instead and very much contrary, the next second, PHAINON is immediately sat without question.

"well, you told me to sit!" is his meek excuse, turning red just as fast when you doubled over and laughed for a minute straight.

you think it's weird and cute. he thinks it's betrayal.

"is it so bad that i want to please you?" he says weakly whilst patting down his attire upon as he stood up straight, still burning up in sheer embarrassment. it's truly a sight to see someone as proud as him get shy. "as if it's my fault..."

you disregard his mutterings as you finally calm your giggles down, "to that extent, though? what if i asked you to bark? hm?"

phainon displays a waver in confidence, constructing his words carefully and said, "well, i'd do anything for you," he then slides you a sidelong look, one that's clearly not impressed. "even if it's something like... barking and sitting on command."

it looked like it pained him to say the last part.

still, you're unable to keep the corners of your lips at bay, genuinely elated at his response.

but unfortunately for him, there always has to be a catch when it comes to your very-easy-to-tease boyfriend...

so you let your lashes flutter, watching carefully as his smile grows a tad wary at your shift in demeanor.

"phainon... you sure you're not into this?"

the future leader of the chrysos heirs — your cute little snowy, explodes into another burst of red, looking as scandalized as you expected.

"wha — what is that supposed to mean?!"

his pouty expression makes him look like a kicked puppy now that you think more about it — of which reminds you the way he begs for attention and kisses, is eager to please, also likes your praise, and often sulks in a corner whenever you don’t... like a puppy.

the resemblance is almost uncanny. how amusing.

"maybe you were a dog in your past life,"

"..."

"..."

"...um, are you going to elaborate?"

you simply smile in return.

MYDEI stares like you'd slapped him across the face when you tell him to roll over.

"what?" you prod further when he doesn't say anything in response, "you shy or something?"

a glint appears in his eyes and you already know what he's going to say next.

"there's no such thing in the kremnoan langua —"

"mydei," you stare back, rid of all humor. he stares back, equally fiery. "roll. over."

you can practically see all the stages of grief flash in his eyes within mere seconds, weighing his options against you. you inspect your nails in an attempt to hide your anticipation. mydei is a wildcard if anything.

would he pretend he didn’t hear anything? probable. would he be mean about it? probable too. would he actually go along with it? pfft, yeah, and pigs would start falling from the sky —

to your most and utter horror, he starts lowering himself to the ground.

you shriek and stop him from continuing any further by grabbing a hold of his shoulders. (drool...) "hey, hey! i was kidding, you freak!"

"who are you calling a freak?" he snaps, not looking very intimidating as he's already kneeling down on one knee before you. "and i'm just following as you told me, am i not?"

"y-yeah but..."

he stands up, half-heartedly glaring you down. "i set aside my pride for your antics and you halt me. why?"

"it's more like why were you about to go along with something that's obviously said in jest..."

"hm. aglaea told me that you would often have weird tendencies and commands," he shrugs your hand off of his shoulder, "and that i should obey them without question if i want a... happy you. something ridiculous like that."

your jaw hangs open. mydei akwardly closes it shut. "you... you consult aglaea about... me?"

he gives you a weird look, "relationships, to be more exact. and why wouldn't i? you're a lot of work."

you deflate, "that's mean, mydei."

the proud chrysos heir shifts his footing, frowning at the air like it wronged him. his words are strained yet truthful, "i just... want to make you happy. that is all."

oh my.

you couldn't hold it any longer and proceed to jump him, whilst pigs do start falling from the sky.

it's pretty much established that ANAXA would yoink you out of the room should you decide to pull that on him during one of his lectures. in front of his students? yeah, you're grounded whether you liked it not.

though, it'd be a completely different story outside such settings...

currently sifting through scrolls sprawled out on his desk was the man of the hour himself, and having decided to accompany him in your free time — your boredom had long kicked in before the idea popped into your mind.

you approach him quietly, before placing your hand on top his head.

"who's a good boy?"

his gaze does not waver from the surface of his desk, but you do catch his contemplative expression freezing for a short moment.

"if you wanted a chalk to your face, you could've just said so."

how romantic. you really can't go a day without your loving boyfriend.

you beam at him, pretending like he hadn’t just threatened you with his 'teaching' gun tool. "that's not very good of you, anaxa. want me to punish you?"

"i believe you're acting up because you haven't gotten plentiful rest. be a dear and go back to your room, will you?"

"you want me gone?" you playfully pout up at him, finally earning his attention as he directs his gaze towards you — a brow raised. "you're being reallyyy bad, right now. i can't believe you'd kick me out just like that."

a sigh escapes anaxa. his singular eye opens to stare you down. you subconsciously gulp down your nerves. did you provoke him too much?

"unprofessional conduct by reffering to me casually during work hours, petting me like some dog and threatening to punish me... pranks like these shall not be tolerated." his eye twinkles in something akin to amusement, "i'll take care of you later."

the tension reaches a stalemate.

your brain short-circuits.

"uh, what do you mean by —"

"you know i dislike it when people ask questions they already know the answer to," as cryptic as ever, he spares you one last glance before returning his attention down to the scrolls laid upon his desk.

heeding his warning of sorts, you depart and stand outside his office — unmoving.

you seem to have brought upon yourself another day of being... unable to walk.

3.4 is taking forever...

[moonlight-lillies]

you asked for kpdh requests yes? I-- anything with Abby. please i need more of this man, anything with this man.

there's more?! a lot of people fail to realize that there are other monsters in this realm. thank you for your submission! (idk why this took so long, i couldn't think of anything :[, but i got a random wave of creativity!) abs saja (ahn beomseok) x reader! CW: gave abs saja a real name, pure fluff, drabble!, ghost!reader

when you have lived a good life, you die. it's as simple as that. some fall into despair and look for ways to get revenge on those that have wronged them. others, like yourself, are content with how you lived your life.

ghosts are often overshadowed by the demons and the hunters, both having something to fight for; but ghosts, they just live the rest of their life as someone who gets to watch everything unfold.

you wouldn't have met beomseok if you hadn't died. it's a dramatic thing to say, but it is true. you died in 1912, beom sold his soul in 1809, and he was the first demon you met. it was love at first sight.

there are many different dynamics of couples in the monster realm. there's the typical werewolf and vampire, and the ghoul and soul-eater, but ghost and demon was a bit rarer. ghosts rarely invaded the human world, but with watching your boyfriend work to destroy the honmoon, you made sure you were at every concert and promotion.

possession wasn't common but for beom, you would do anything. and he would do anything for you.

sitting at a shrine, looking out at the desolate paths, you both didn't say anything. presence was enough. you had taken your 'idyllic' form, a term basically used for when you're not able to walk through walls.

beom just looked at you, lips parted, but no words formed.

"take a picture, it'll last longer." you deadpanned. tucking your hair behind your ear.

"have you ever thought about what a ghost idol group would look like?" he always did have the weirdest way of saying whatever was on his mind.

"have you ever thought of a jpop ghost idol group?" you responded, nudging his shoulder with yours.

"dope..." he said, nodding his head.

you laid your head on his chest, taking in the night air. beom's hand fiddled with your fingers, some of them popping. he looked down at you, to everyone else he was an untouchable idol, to you he was your other half.

he pressed a kiss to your temple.

"i know i'm not, like, romantical all the time, but i really love you." he breathed out. his eyes meeting yours.

"i know you do." you sat up, grabbing his hand and pulling him up from the bench.

you faced each other, hands interlocked, eyes never leaving each others. you stepped closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. his lips found your forehead, then your cheek, your nose, and then your lips.

you loved when he did that.

a big whirlwind of air sprouted beneath the two of you. leaves and sticks where pushed away as a crack of thunder was heard. but beom didn't move, he pushed himself into you more.

the light headedness wasn't only from the kiss, it was from what was happening around you. the life was sucked from flowers and small sparks of pink danced around hedges. you held onto his shoulders to ground yourself, the patterns that ran up his arms and neck pulsating under his shirt.

it was so dramatic, so romantic, but it was how you knew you two loved each other.

he didn't want to let you go, you didn't want to be let be go.

when you reluctantly pulled apart, there he was in his hanbok. all black, his patterns shining. you looked down, noting the white cloak you now wore, your eyes a pure white, skin glistening.

he offered his arm, the two of you in the forms that you fell in love with. you happily took it.

walking off into a realm far from here.

fin.

[mtkmsp]

My older teens main 4 transportation headcanons, because I don't want to put them in cars! (Butters is there he's just on the ground taking the pic)

more details below 👇

Stan’s quad:

Stan’s in an anti-car phase, regardless whether they’re gas fuelled or electric. Randy gifted Stan a Tegridy Farms hybrid quad for his 16th birthday. While a bit reluctant at first, Stan grew to like it; he soon spray-painted it black so he could shamelessly go to school with it, but the paint quickly started chipping away. He still uses it regurlarly, whether to go to the South Park city center or other surrounding towns and places (except Denver.)

Kyle’s bike:

It was gifted to him by his parents when he was 15. Kyle really enjoys riding a bike, not only for the freedom he feels riding it, but also to wind down and spend some energy before and after school to calm himself down. It’s an ATB so he often rides it into the forest. (His parents tried to teach him how to drive but his current anger issues and impulses make him a bad driver, while his anxiety makes it way too stressful for him. No car before he gets all that under control.)

Kenny’s motorcycle:

At around 15, Kenny enterprized the project of fixing an old, rusty motorbike that he found. With the help of his friends, as well as first and foremost, Youtube, Kenny managed to come up with a decent result in several months, and he took great pleasure in customizing it afterwards. He rides it all the time—or at least during the months he can afford the gas.

Eric’s ride hitching:

Eric owns a bicycle that he’s often too lazy to ride. He once decided he’d start taking Liane’s car to school but bypassed the driving lessons or license and ended up crashing the car—which currently keeps him away from them. He will usually hitch rides from Kenny, who usually takes him along but sometimes refuses, saying that a heavier load uses more gas, in which case Eric generally manages to get Kyle to let him on. When really there is no other choice, he comes along with his own bike, or goes to school and other places by bus (or gets Butters (?) or Liane to drive him.)

Maybe it's a european thing, but I'm just not too fond of putting 16yo kids in cars and I find smaller vehicles much more fun to deal with 🤗

[earlgreytea68]

I get that doing fic for free comes from a place of privilege that I have a job that makes me enough money to live on. I TOTALLY get that. What I want people to consider is that that's how jobs SHOULD be and there's a problem with the world generally that we all can't get that. And it's a bigger problem with the world that capitalism wants to reach its greasy tentacles into every moment of our lives (I was going to say every waking moment but I bet they'd find a way to sell ad space in our dreams if they could). Anyway I say it constantly but PLEASE WRITE FANFICTION BECAUSE IT'S FUN AND YOU ENJOY IT AND YOU LIKE IT.

I have been a published author. In fact I'm always supposed to be publishing more lol and I'm SO BAD at it because once I *have* to do it it becomes more like work and I don't want it to be work! I want to have fun! It's okay to have fun!!!!!! I remember when I published my very first novel and I was trying to make friends with the other novelists (allll of my best friends come from fandom, I thought of course these people would want to make friends!!) and I suggested we write Advent drabbles in December like I have been doing for fics forever, and their response was, "Why? Do you have data on how that spurs sales?" I was like, .....no, we would do it because it's fun?????? And then I was like, maybe publishing isn't for me lol

ANYWAY fandom has already become so much more commercialized than it used to be. I blame social media influencer culture with the way it's made everyone thinks everything you do with your time needs to be a side hustle that makes you money. In the old days nobody took a commission for fic. If someone wanted a particular fic, you wrote it and you gifted it to them. Wow, that makes me sound impossibly old but I promise you, kids, that's what we did. A lot. Really often. We'd be like "give me some prompts!" And then we'd fill the ones that inspired us. That was a very usual thing to do.

So I know we old people sound pathetic when we beg you to do something in your life just for fun and don't bother doing fandom if you don't enjoy it (and for God's sake stop loudly watching videos and having FaceTime conversations on your phones in public). It's okay. In twenty years I will accept your DMs on Tumblr being like, "egt, you were right, the things we do for fun to bring us joy are the most important things we will ever do in our lives." You, too, will get old like me.

[flvvffy]

. ۫ ꣑ৎ . ❝ 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄... ❞

summary: suguru geto comforts chubby!reader, letting her know that she is loved and appreciated despite her insecurities

suguru adored you ever since the day he laid eyes on you. how could he not? you were breathtakingly beautiful, easy on the eyes and the your amazing personality was just another wonderful bonus.

suguru expressed his love for you in the ways he knew how. rushing to the store when you urgently needed something. offering his honest opinion when you asked. having an extra hair tie in case you needed one. he did everything he could to make you know that you are loved and appreciated.

you loved him too...deeply. he made you feel comfortable in your own skin than anyone else ever did. but sometimes...you felt that maybe changing yourself for him was for the better.

pretty girls with slim bodies were plastered everywhere you went. bill boards and social media more specifically. dressed in hot bikinis that you always hesitated to wear infront of suguru.

you were sure they never struggled to find the right bra that neither dug painfully into thier shoulders nor have cups too big. the right jeans that fit both their tummies and thick thighs, that actually allowed the possibility to breathe and not feel so self-conscious in public. shirts that looked stylish and trendy but comfortable.

you started to hate the way the seams dug into your skin, the way your reflection felt like a stranger's. you started to hate how you needed to plan your outfits like puzzles. never too tight, never too baggy. just enough to hide the parts you didn't like.

obsessively staring at yourself in the mirror. making a note of all the imperfections on your body. the stretch marks on your stomach, hips and swell of your breasts. the ways your thighs always touched. often thinking 'i know he loves me...i know that...but maybe he'd love me more if i wasn't... fat...'.

you wanted to let suguru know how you felt. but how? this wasn't a topic you were comfortable with. as much as you liked being around him, you couldn't help but feel too big, too noticable. especially when there were so many other girls out there, that were prettier, more skinnier and...perfect for him. your insecurities slapping you in the face whenever it crossed your mind

"I wanna start going to the gym...with you". you stated randomly as you were in his apartment, just casually, silently hoping that he wouldn't ask further questions. but you underestimated how much he pays attention to you.

"why the sudden interest?", his brow raised. shifting his attention for a short while from his phone to you

"i just wanted to try something new. you make it look so fun and easy", you reason but he still didn't seem to understand.

"it's not as fun as you think, pretty...you have to stay consistent"

"i can do that", he gave you a wary look and set his phone aside, attention fully on you.

"where is this coming from?", you shrunk back into the cushions, controlling your expression, hoping that he wouldn't catch up on your true intentions.

"just curious to know how it is...", he squinted his eyes at you and shook his head just a little. a sign that he wasn't, at all, convinced.

"you never want to try something new. you're the only person I know who despises change. you also told me that the gym seems like too much"

"people change", you shrugged.

"not you...you can tell me anything, you know that...". suguru's eyes showed concern. he placed his hand on yours the other tilted your chin to look at him. your throat felt dry. getting harder to swallow as he stared at you with such loving soft eyes.

"do you...", pause. "do you think i'm...beautiful?". silence follows. he looked deeper into your eyes, searching for sincerity in then. and you let him.

"you're the most beautiful girl in the world. of course i think you are", a small smile is plastered on his lips but you don't believe him...not yet...

"you don't have to lie to me...", his brows creased. his hand slid down to your shoulder and squeezed a bit.

"is it really so hard to believe. you are beautiful. has anyone made you feel like you're not?"

you shake your head, no. "i just feel like things would be better for me...for us if i was...skinnier"

"oh, baby...", he pulled you against his chest, his large hands cradled your head. you wanted to push him away. away from yourself...but you didn't...didn't have the heart to. so you wrapped your arms around his waist. your cheek pressed against his chest, the smell of his cologne invaded your nostrils, wrapping around you like a memory--sharp, warm...familiar

"there is nothing wrong with you, honey. everything about you is so elegant and astounding sometimes i think...that you're way out of my league.", you slapped his chest playfully and he kisses the top of your head.

"i go crazy whenever i see you. they way you carry yourself is just so...magical. i wanna nuzzle into you every time we cuddle. you're warm and you always make me feel so much better after such a long day. that beautiful smile of yours, your comfortable weight on top of me makes me wanna show you off to the entire world", he pulled back to look at you. your eyes a little watery.

he cupped your cheeks and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. "there is nothing that you need to fix for the world, but the world needs to fix itself for you". a tear slid down your cheek and he wiped it away with his thumb. you were smiling now, your cheeks heated and heart full from his words alone.

suguru leaned in, sealing his lips with yours in a passionate kiss. eyes closed. heart thumping loudly in your ears as your tongues danced together. hands roamed around the other's bodies until he pulled away. catching your breathes as he pressed his forehead to yours and whispered:

"you're beautiful in ways you can't always see...and don't you forget that"

. ۫ ꣑ৎ . 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 © 𝐅𝐋𝐕𝐕𝐅𝐅𝐘

[snowstormarts]

hiii can u write more hcs or whatever about cam… there’s literally nothing for him and i want that stinky man >:3

Holding your hand as we spin in a circle with Cam who's not impressed. All to say is I love this trash man, the only reason I didnt get his romance route is because of the Empathy Block...But enough of that and more to headcanons for him! [If anyone else has Cam stuff please let me know, I need this man on such a deep level]

Reblogs & Likes are appreciated and feel free to send Requests, Questions, ect to my Inbox ^^

🗑 Cam Headcanons 🗑

[Divider Credit]

- He can't & won't stand for anyone bullying someone for something they can't control. He had his own experiences with bullying for being born as a trashcan so he will often step in and scare the bullies away before leaving [he has to keep his reputation as the silent guy who hates everyone]

- He has a opossum plushy that he keeps hidden away, it's his support & vent buddy when days are especially hard and he just needs to let it out somehow

- Don't let his clothes trick you, he might not look the strongest but underneath it all he has some muscles. Carrying trash around and creating a home with it is going to take some strength, it's like a free work out for him

- If you're dating him get ready for him to be the sweetest guy ever, you can literally walk into a room and see him make someone cower in fear only to turn around and face you with a smile and a huff. Before walking like nothing happened up to you, cupping your cheek and letting your foreheads touch as he asks if you were looking for him. ["Did I keep you waiting my little opossum? Yeah? Then let's get out of here and I will make it up to you, how does cuddling and snacking sound while we bitch about your ex-boss?"]

- Knows a ton about "pest-animals" like pigeons, raccoons, opossums & different kinds of bugs, you ever need some background noises or need to be grounded? This man has your back!

- If you ever propose to him/ask when he's gonna tie the knot he will be shocked, he never expected to date anyone let alone get married to someone who truly loves him for who he is.

"Is this some kind of cruel joke, maybe one of those challenges online? Or are you serious about this? Just in case you've forgotten I'm a trashcan, you sure you can handle that? That also means having to deal with me and my shit dai-huh? Y-You're serious, you even got the ring...Well then, I guess I might have a ring here somewhere for you just let me go find it... Oh, and doll? I love you, I really do. Thanks for choosing to stick with me even when I have my shitty moments, you're the best future spouse anyone could have wished for."

[danieyells]

UPCOMING CARDS!!!!

The PC may have like a month and a half to live but time does not stop for her--Tanbata is here(in-game. tanbata isn't for another few weeks irl) and so are the story cards for this episode!!! And the Tanbata outfits are so pretty!!!

And of course the episode itself comes out in about 20 hours! They still no longer show the next episode's sprite information in the files so unfortunately I won't know what or who's in the following episode. But I'm sure you've come to expect that by now. But we do know the title at least! Anyway--cards!

Character Card: Firelit Wayfarer(「あたたかな灯の指す方へ」  "Pointing Towards The Warm Light") Skill: First Festival(「初めてのお祭り」  "First Festival") Fully Awakened Skill: Up-And-Coming Cowherd(「新進気鋭の牽牛」  "Up-And-Coming Altair" or "Young, Energetic Altair". "Altair"--or 'Hikoboshi'--is the name of one of the two pivotal stars in Tanbata.) Warding Card: Festival Night(「"お祭りの夜に」  "The Night Of The Festival")

Character Card: Yearning Altair(「誰が為の彦星」  "Altair For Whom?") Skill: Milky Way Admiration(「天の川への憧れ」  "Yearning For The Milky Way") Fully Awakened Skill: Footloose Cowherd(「マイペースな牽牛」  "Altair Who Does Things His Way") Warding Card: Fire Flowers(「灯の花が咲く丘」  "The Hill Where Light Flowers Bloom")

Character Card: Swirling Stars(「星と想いは波の随に」  "Stars And Thoughts At The Mercy Of The Waves") Skill: Shrine Ferryman(「本殿への舟守」  "Captain Of The Ship To The Main Shrine") Fully Awakened Skill: Serene Cowherd(「静謐なる牽牛」  "Peaceful Altair") Warding Card: Sweet Burst(「甘くはじける味」  "Sweetly Bursting Flavor")

Character Card: Unmade Wish(「心に秘めた願い」  "A Wish Kept Secret") Skill: Wish Trivia(「短冊のトリビア」  "Tanzaku Trivia" 'tanzaku' are long, narrow strips of paper on which Japanese poems are written vertically. On Tanbata it's customary to write a wish on tanzaku and hang it on bamboo.) Fully Awakened Skill: Swallowed Words(「飲み込んだ言葉」  "Swallowed Words") Warding Card: Support From The Sideline(「射的応援中」  "Shooting Gallery Support")

There's one more warding card Grand Entrance (「満を持しての登場」 "Long-Awaited Entrance") but the image of the card itself isn't in the files yet. Based on it being an SR and its position however it's most likely the story SR from last episode.

There's also a new cosmic bond! It's most likely just these cards, given it's clearly the cosmic bond for this episode.

Darkwick Cowherds (「ダークウィック七夕伝説」 "Darkwick Tanbata Tradition")

The next episode title is The Vanishing Homeroom (「神隠しホームルーム」 "The Mysteriously Disappearing Homeroom")! I guess this will be an on campus sort of mission, although it could easily be at a civilian school in Tokyo. . .and if it's anything like this one and the previous one maybe it'll be another inter-house squad.

Uuuh is that everything? Beside the stats I mean? I think that's everything! Feels like it's been ages since I did this many cards in one go @,@ Okay quickly wrapping up!!

Gacha is gambling! Banners rerun! I know how rough FOMO can be but it's okay if you don't get the units you want this first time around--they will always come back! If you're going to spend on the game please be sure to set limits for yourself and stick to them! Gambling addiction is real, so please seek help if you find yourself struggling!

My Japanese isn't very good! So please take my translations with a grain of salt.

Why don't you make a wish? You can learn how to make a tanzaku here. I've read that in Japan they're often set afloat on a river or burned at midnight/the next day, so once you've made it and let it exist in the world for a while, dispose of it how you see fit perhaps. It may just be a silly little activity but writing things out, putting them in the world, can be cathartic even if it does nothing else. It's important to do meaningless things and things for yourself sometimes.

Here are the stats! Good night, good luck with any pulls you make, and I hope this is a good episode!! 🎋🌌

[bitteriekitten]

yeehaw. (1/2)

synopsis — save a horse, ride a cowboy or whatever it is that they're saying out there in the wild west. OR the l&ds boys as cowboys. (1/2)

contents — fem!reader, fluff, terrible attempts at writing crack ??????, weak attempts at banter el oh el, reader has a dad who runs a ranch and she works at the ranch alongside the l&ds boys, vague descriptions of ranch life (all source material i have for the ranch lifestyle are all from the cowboy romances i've read. sry), farmhand!xavier, livestock veterinarian!zayne, (brief descriptions of) riding instructor!rafayel, sweaty stinky and shirtless l&ds cowboys, swearing, suggestive content and language, and probably so many more that i've overlooked. lmk if i missed anything !!!

featuring — xavier, zayne, & rafayel (separate fics)

notes — if infold comes out with a cowboy AU multibanner best believe i'm spending half of my life savings just to get all of them 😍 but fr, this was rly fun to make!! i've been referring to the cowboy romances that i read during my hiatus to write this, so i apologize if this isn't an exact replica of the cowboy lifestyle. u can catch sylus and caleb in part 2 <3 i had to separate them bc their AUs are different from what i cooked up for xav zayne and raf (hint: they're bull-riders eheheheh). feedback is most appreciated and if u have any more requests (or jus want to scream abt l&ds with me), you can drop them down in my ask box - no matter how unhinged or wholeseome they may be <3

check out my other stuff here ❤️‍🔥

you stumbled out of your room yawning, startled awake by multiple loud crashes down at the ranch, which was conveniently right outside your window. laughter sounded outside, followed right after by something being dropped and some colorful swearing. you vaguely remembered snoring through your father telling you that he had hired some extra hands, three or so men he’d met at a bar in town. so you couldn’t really be mad at them for being rowdy so early in the morning – they were cowboys. plus it was so early in the morning, you didn't have the energy yet to be pissed. “looks like the princess is finally awake.” your father called from the dining table. he quickly poured orange juice in an empty glass for you. “i don’t wanna hear anything about how fuckin’ loud they are down at the ranch. you should’ve been used to waking up early by now anyway.” “i wasn’t going to.” you said with an eye roll, but thanked him for the orange juice anyway. you then stepped outside, haphazardly putting on shoes to go around the back to see what the new help were doing.

Xavier stuck out like a sore thumb at the ranch, with his light hair and youthful face, but he was definitely still a sight for sore eyes out on the field. when he wasn't handling the livestock, he was moving around bales of hay and other heavy equipment, his biceps bulging and his jaw tense from the effort.

you'd spot him out on the field wearing nothing but grimy jeans, a white hat, a pair of boots, and a pair of leather gloves as he moved a new shipment of hay. it was why you were grateful for a window by your bed; you had full free access to ogle at anything and everything he did out there.

but it was also why you hated it. xavier somehow knew when you'd be watching him, like it was instinctual for him (or you were just staring too much that it bordered on creepiness). he'd catch your eye through the window just as he hauled another bale into the back of his truck, and smile when you'd quickly turn away in embarrassment.

he was a hit with the kids and the chickens, handling them their milk and feed in record time and effectively shutting them up for the next five hours. the horses were a different story with xavier, though. you often had to help him out with them, as they sometimes get a bit picky on who gets to feed and generally care for them.

you couldn't help but find it hilarious that both xavier and the horses flinch whenever they see and come into any kind of contact with each other. he's had a few extremely close calls with their back legs, but they eventually managed to warm up enough for xavier to finally begin sensitivity training for them.

speaking of sensitivity training, you were surprised to spot him outside your home about to knock on your door.

"xavier?" you called, opening the door for him before he could rap his fist on the wood.

"hey, y/n." xavier greeted you as he placed his hand over at the top of your doorframe, leaning over you with his entire height. you gulped at how he was basically towering over you, his shadow covering most of your figure.

"do you think i can borrow your dresses for the horses?" he asked, in the same tone he would use when he would ask for a basket of eggs.

you blanched, taken aback from his request as your flustered state immediately broke. "um. i don't think my dresses will fit the horses." you replied with an eyebrow raised.

"no, it's for me." xavier quickly reassured you, pointing to himself, but it did little to actually reassure you. "i'm starting to do sensitivity training on the new horses we're fostering, and i forgot to bring my usual stuff from my apartment." he said.

you scoffed at his ridiculousness, and how serious he was taking his ridiculousness. "uh... i don't think my dresses will fit you either." you replied, this time with a chuckle you couldn't hold back. your eyes flitted over his figure subconsciously, and he caught you in the act with a smirk.

"how would you know that, y/n?" he asked, tilting his head to the side, his hat tilting along with the movement.

your cheeks burned in embarrassment and you turned away from him, avoiding his eyes that were suddenly very interested in you. "what color did you want that dress, xavier?" you asked instead, walking to your bedroom with him following behind with a chuckle.

xavier in a bright yellow dress over his jeans that barely zipped up his back still managed to look good. he also decided to ditch his hat for one of your ribbon headbands, and also snatched up your father's old new year's glasses from 2006. you held back a laugh behind the palm of your hand as you watched him, wanting to keep it professional for his sake at least.

armed with a folding umbrella, xavier stood by one of the brown horses, who refused to make eye contact with him. he quickly tightened his grip around the rope holding the horse, then clicked open the umbrella, to which the horse flinched back and pulling xavier with him.

you couldn't hold back your laugh when xavier stumbled at the force of the horse's movements. he looked back at you with a grin of his own.

"enjoying yourself, y/n?" he asked.

"very much so," you replied, still laughing.

it continued on for several hours, with xavier getting up to anything just to startle the poor horse. there truly was no wrong way to go about desensitizing a horse - dropping things accidentally and mixing up words managed to work anyway.

by the end of the session, the horse still flinched at the slightest of sudden sounds and movement, but it was less violent now - that's a win in xavier's book. you retired back to your front porch with a book and a pitcher of iced tea after xavier's antics got boring by the 30-minute mark.

you snorted when the cowboy walked up your porch still in your dress and other accessories in hand. he had his hat on this time instead of your headband, which contrasted greatly against the yellow dress he still had on. the dress had dirt on the edges of the skirt and mud splatters over the torso, which also splattered over the side of his neck.

it was infuriating how he still managed to look so fucking good.

"you're doing the laundry for that one." you told him instead, laughing loudly as he approached you. he took your half-empty glass of iced tea and drank all of it in one go.

"i think i managed to zip this thing up completely after i crawled in between shane's legs." xavier said as he poured himself another glass.

you snorted, "why'd you give the horse a human name?"

xavier shrugged, "he looked like a shane."

you laughed again, and xavier smiled to himself as he finished drinking up his second glass of iced tea. he set down the glass back on its coaster and turned his back to you, "can you unzip me? i cant reach the zipper now that it's zipped all the way up."

you laughed as your hands reach up to undo the zipper. it only zipped up to his lower back, right below where his hard chest couldn't be squeezed into the fabric. but miraculously it managed to zip all the way up.

"never thought i'd be the one unzipping my dress from another person." you joked. xavier turned his head to you with a raised eyebrow and one corner of his lips upturned into a smirk.

"oh? did you want me to unzip your dress for you, then?" he teased as the zipper finally opened up enough for him to take his arms out of the dress's sleeves.

"i- xavier!" you exclaimed, face slowly heating up again like he did earlier in the day.

you stared at his glistening back as he stepped out of the dress through the skirt. xavier turned to face you this time, folding your dress neatly into one hand. his head tilted to the side and a deceivingly innocent smile appeared on his face as he held out his hand for you to take.

"come on. show me where you do your laundry." he said, back to his innocent antics like he didn't just give you a heart attack.

Zayne looked like he should be the last person working at a ranch. he showed up like he stumbled upon the wrong place at the wrong time, his eyes unsure and uneasy.

but then your father quickly steered him to the heavily pregnant goat inside the barn, whose leg was sprained after it got knocked over during the night. zayne quickly got to work to bandaging up the poor mom, managing to get its leg healed and working in no time.

you often just stood by the veterinarian in astonishment, just watching zayne work his magic onto the other livestock. he was probably the only rancher you've seen who never gets plucked at by the chickens, or be head-butted by the goats, or have the horses flinch away from his touch. you've had your fair share of veterinarians at the ranch, but they were never as young and efficient (and honestly, handsome) as he was.

when he wasn't out checking up on the livestock, zayne was moving around bales of hay and heavy equipment. you didn't know why you were surprised that a man as handsome and capable as zayne had a toned body of his own - walking around the ranch with just a oil-stained wife-beater, muddy jeans, and a pair of worn down boots.

zayne was quiet, kept to himself most of the time, and did his job quickly and orderly. he was practically every rancher's wet dream in terms of being responsible. you had to give it to him for being passionate about his work; it was clear as day that your father loved having him out at the field.

safe to say, you had grown a little fond of the stoic doctor, despite his apparent disinterest in you. he only ever spared you hums and nods of acknowledgement whenever you'd assist him, and preferred to reply to you in monosyllabic sentences.

it was hilarious to think that this was literally all you had to gain your silly crush on him - just assisting him whenever he needed it and being at arm's length from him.

still, it was enough for you to have your cheeks flushing whenever you saw him, or stand beside him as he worked. because at least you had something to look forward to when waking up for another grueling day at the field. you've long accepted that he will never realistically be interested in you at all, and that everything between the two of you was to be kept strictly professional.

but if you were being honest with yourself, a tiny bit of hope was still clinging onto the tendrils of your heart - that maybe, maybe he feels the same way as you do.

it was the little things he did; it might as well be a figment of your imagination with how seldom it happens. but you know that his eyes following you from across the barn means something, or that the way his hand guides you out of the way from a fussy horse isn't just a thing he does all the time. you know, deep down in your heart, there's something there.

however, each time it happens, as you lay down on your bed every night, staring up at your ceiling in the dark, you remind yourself once more - everything between the two of you was to be kept strictly professional.

but it was on a friday evening that you and zayne were alone out on the field. the little bonfire he made crackled and popped, mixing in with the sounds of the quiet night at the countryside. you walked out of the house with candied fruits and iced tea, a small reward for the hard work done for the day. zayne accepted the fruit enthusiastically - he seemed to have a sweet tooth.

"any plans for the weekend, dr. zayne?" you asked. zayne shook his head and sipped on his iced tea.

"no - i'd rather be here." he replied.

"ah..." you nodded, a little embarrassed at how quickly he shot down your attempt in small talk. "...well, me too. the bar down town's a little grungy, anyway." you said, a feeble crack at filling up the silence between the both of you.

zayne hummed and nodded, taking another sip of his drink. "i'd rather be here with you."

the hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you tried to process his words, his voice, his everything. you turned to him, unsure of what to say - what to do, "wh- what?"

zayne, to your horror, looked completely serious. what a bad time to remember that he rarely ever joked around, especially with you. "i like your company, y/n." he said, a hint of a smile on his lips. "i'd rather stay here in the quiet with you after a long day of work than to go anywhere else for the weekend."

your heartbeat quickening, you tried to think of something to say, something smart or witty to reply to his sudden confession. but you were helplessly blanking out. "o-oh. um... i wasn't expecting you to say that."

zayne cocked his head to the side, still keeping his gaze on you. "what did you expect me to say, y/n?"

you shrug with a singular shoulder, squirming helplessly underneath his gaze. "i dunno - that you're busy. or have to work overnight." literally anything else that doesn't make me hope that i have a chance for you.

"i managed to finish the day's work in record time, and i don't like working outside my work hours." zayne replied matter-of-factly, adjusting the watch on his wrist. "and that's because of your help. you help me maintain my work that i don't see the need to work overtime. at this rate, you must be sick of seeing me."

"what? no, i don't." you replied in shock.

"really?" zayne asked, his lips forming a wide smile this time. "you're by my side almost 24/7 down at the ranch at work. wouldn't you be appalled that i still want to spend my time with you after work?"

you scoffed in disbelief, frazzled by his sudden confessions coming at you from all sides. you avoid his eyes, still intently staring at you, burning holes into your skin at this point. "i'm more surprised that you want to see me all the time." you said softly.

"why, do you want to see me all the time?"

you hadn't noticed that zayne had moved to sit right beside you. you flinched at the warm shoulder that bumped against yours, rendering you breathless as you faced him, your eyes finally meeting his.

no words were exchanged. you hoped your your hammering heartbeat was enough of an answer for him. no words were actually exchanged, as you were too busy leaning in to kiss him while the bonfire slowly burned out into the starry night.

Rafayel liked to show up at the ranch early in the morning. while you were still busy catching up on sleep, he's already working on a few stuff around the barn. you were often not-so-rudely woken up by some drilling and hammering down at the ranch, and more often than not it was because rafayel saw something wrong with the equipment and thought that it needed some quick fixing.

it quickly became part of your routine to cuss him out through your window.

"can't you keep that shit down?! it's ass crack o'clock!" you yelled with your eyes still struggling to open all the way. rafayel paused from hammering at the fence he just fixed and turned to you with one eye closed and a delighted grin.

"sorry that i'm trying to fix the squeaking fence you were complaining about the other day, cutie!" he replied sarcastically, then proceeded to ignore your demands to continue hammering on the wood.

it went on like that as he got around the ranch. you'd complain about how loud he was being, and he'd have a witty quip for you already locked and loaded. you did your best to have as little interaction with him at the ranch as possible, but with how often your tasks coincided with his, it was almost impossible not to run into him.

he always had that exasperating, devastatingly handsome smile on his face whenever you cross paths at the ranch. with your eyes downcast, you always tried to pretend you hadn't even noticed him, doing something on your phone or checking if you'd stepped on something as he passed by you. you'd let out a sigh of relief as he just leaves without saying anything else to you, but you don't miss the cheeky laugh that trails after you.

"honestly cutie, you're like, my favorite co-worker." rafayel declared after hauling the trash out on the back. you scoffed at his words, appalled that he'd even say that out loud. "i'm the only lunatic who's crazy enough to work the same shifts as you." you replied.

"exactly. great minds think alike, no?" rafayel winked at you, lurching your heart to your throat in surprise.

"you're a dumbass."

your father quickly got rafayel to do horseback riding lessons for visitors and tourists at the ranch - he was young and had a boyish charm to him that hollywood liked to give cowboys in their movies. children loved the friendly cowboy with the winning smile, who has a steady hand over their backs and another on the horse's reins.

but he was especially a hit with the women, who bat their eyelashes at the cowboy and squirm in delight when he tells them to hold onto the reins tighter with a firm voice. either rafayel was clueless to their blatant flirting, or he just didn't care. the amount of filth these women had spewing out their mouths was honestly laughable.

and you don't blame them at all. rafayel was indeed gorgeous, despite how infuriating he was to talk to most of the time. but you don't go around telling that kind of information to anybody else; he'd have a field day if he finds out that his "favorite co-worker" thought he had pretty eyes and soft hair that she'd like to touch.

nothing ever really comes out of the flirting, though. unlike the average cowboy, rafayel didn't care much about attracting the most amount of admirers. he's always hard at work, like he's got something to prove. he fixes leaking pipes, screws and unscrews things, and can paint murals on the back of barns like nothing. he has his eyes set on something else, it seemed.

"cutie! wait up!"

just as you were about to climb up into your truck, rafayel caught up with you. he was sweating all over, his clothes stained with oil and mud, and a part of his cheek covered in streaks of mud. he furiously wiped away the dirt on his face with a damp towel as he approached you. despite all the grime that covered him, he still managed to smell like expensive perfume.

"you stink, rafayel." you said despite that, moving away from him. rafayel gave you a little shrug and swept a hand through his hair, slicking it back with his sweat.

"some twin boys almost fell off a horse. somebody had to hold them away from the mud." he replied. he pointed to your truck with his thumb, grinning widely. "can i drive us to dinner?"

you raised an eyebrow at him, suspicious of his motives, to which he pouted and pulled out his ridiculous puppy-dog face at you. "please, y/n? i want that steak you told me to get last time i went with your dad." he pleaded.

"you want to go get steak without your boss?" you asked with a humorless laugh, turning away from him to open the door the driver's seat. "you asking me out on a date, rafayel?"

"duh." rafayel said, leaning on your truck with one arm against the side. he held out on hand and began listing down things with his fingers, "i'll pay for our meal, i'll be the best gentleman, and i'll take you home back home before 10. promise!"

you blanched at his insistence - you were truly only joking with him about the date, but whatever he's offering sounded really good. this was one of the many times he's tried to take you out somewhere, and you've only ever brushed him off every time he did so.

you glanced at rafayel's face, whose smile grew wider the more the silence stretched on. he leaned in closer, giving you a closer look at his handsome smile. you felt your resolve slowly crack away; you truly couldn't stand this cowboy...

"if you stop touching my radio, we'll get steak." you deadpanned.

"i'll skip only one song, cutie. just one, then i'll never judge your music taste again." rafayel bargained with his hands clasping together. you rolled your eyes at his ridiculousness, then tilted your head to your truck, signaling him to get in.

rafayel cheered as he quickly climbed up the driver's seat. you walked around to get to the front seat, shivering at the cold air gusting from the air-conditioning. rafayel slumped back into his seat, relieved to be away from the heat of the afternoon sun.

"your truck's soooo nice, y/n." he groaned in satisfaction, "you've got functioning air-conditioning, soft cushions, little to no scratches on the truck. you're a wonderful driver."

you snorted as you grabbed your box of CDs, looking through your selection. "if you actually know how to take care of your truck, you wouldn't be complimenting it like this." you said.

"but how else am i going to have a chance to be this close to you, cutie?" rafayel teased, sitting up straight this time and turning the truck on. dumbstruck at his response, you turned to him with your mouth agape. "are you dumb?" you asked.

rafayel shook his head. "nope, just think you're pretty."

you choked on a gasp. "rafayel!"

he laughed out loud as he put the truck in drive. "what?" he asked, pretending to look innocent.

you scoffed, "you're ridiculous."

"you like it."

you didn't respond, afraid that you'll say that you do.

taglist 𓂃۶ৎ jus tagging random users <3 hope u enjoy!!!

@berrryparfait @lioria @babypetri @hyunlixwife @zuhaeri @c9tnoos @sylusbigapples @dollyswishingwell @sixeyedgodswife @celestialforce @syxlx @dana-nite @lacejinnie @thearynn @feralkuromi @destinysrequiem @thesrtuggleisveryreal @orange-stars @mocha-the-muse @usertala @kpop-and-otome @serendididy @zephilyr @ywnzn @a-jynx @elitheidiot1 @almondtofuus @goldenroses @esspeon @froleineeeee

[luckyladylily]

This is a very weird post to me because it's the most technically correct thing I've ever read in my life, but in a way that makes me think OP has not only lost the thread on kink vs vanilla but has gotten so lost in the sauce they are missing the point of fan fic in general.

To address kink vs vanilla, I have extensive real world experience and I can tell you right now that you cannot predict or otherwise draw hard conclusions about kink based on a person's personality or lived experiences. There can be some patterns, but they are not hard patterns you can count on. This is the way in which this post is very technically correct. It is absolutely true that character's favorite position could be no frills missionary, even if they seem like the kinkiest mother fucker who ever walked the earth. Some people do in fact have vanilla sex.

But that's a very weird thing to point out because most people already know this, and even in explicit fandom fics with bdsm dynamics are out numbered by fics focusing on more vanilla sex, especially in fics that are actually about character work where bdsm dynamics are so rare fics like this often don't even exist at all for many ships.

I know this because, for personal reasons I won't get into, "vanilla sex" (and how people write it) is deeply uncomfortable to me. I like character focused explicit fic, but trying to find something that doesn't make me want to claw my skin off means sifting through dozens of vanilla fics to find one fic that strays from vanilla dynamics enough to be palatable. And that's when I'm lucky and such a fic exists at all. This has held true in every single pairing and fandom I've ever spent time in.

The only 2 areas where dom/sub dynamics or other heavy kinks outweigh vanilla dynamics in fandom is discussion of sex among kinky fans and one shots specifically dedicated to low or zero context sex. In other words, where interesting sexual dynamics are more important than the actual characters involved. The parts of fandom where characters are just pretty dolls we use to populate our sexual fantasies.

The second post has it completely wrong. In these spaces, It's not that kink is a substitute for personality, it's that kink trumps personality. Fandom is playing with dolls, and maybe for you character work is what it's all about, but that's not true for everyone. We all play with the dolls differently, and it's not like people who are in it for the low context sexual fantasy are suddenly going to be into character work now you've pointed this out, so what's the point? If these people won't play correctly (according to you), then they shouldn't play at all?

Fandom is not a zero sum game. Out of character bdsm one shots are not actually taking away from your character focused works.

This is complaining about people playing with their dolls in a way you don't like. If you prefer one way of playing with the dolls the answer is to find like minded people, not getting pissy about others playing with their toys wrong.

nothing but respect for our troops (smut writers) but listen. i dont want to be the person to tell you this, but not every character is going to be a dom or a sub. some people. and i know this is hard to hear. but some people do have vanilla sex. and some of those people might even be The Character.

[drdemonprince]

seeing you talk about physical discomfort, autistic awkwardness, and the toll speaking with the wrong muscles takes... and why it's hard & exhausting to talk and often physically hurts... here i was thinking it was "just" psychological from all the times being "corrected" about speaking "wrong"... this makes things click in a way i need to sit with for a while before i can even attempt to come up with a way to unfuck this shittangle

My advice would be to start with the breathing. Look up videos on what diaphragmatic breathing *ACTUALLY* is, because it's not "breathing into your stomach", and trying to follow that advice too literally can cause you to do something called reverse breathing that is only going to make you feel more tense and never fill up your lungs. A lot of us seem to suffer from that. Also look up gentle mobility exercises. Get your body calmer, moving more freely, and become more aware of what it is feeling and doing. and then work your way up from there. Someday I will post a whole suite of resources and share about what I have learned but I'm a couple months into the process right now and it's honestly gonna take a year or multiple years.

[formulafanfics13]

Topped Up - LH44, GR63, Toto Wolff 🔥

masterlist

The Wolff house was warm in the way only old money homes in the mountains could be, dim light spilling from antique chandeliers, the smell of spiced candles flickering through the oak-paneled halls, and soft jazz humming in the background like a memory that wouldn't quite fade.

You were curled into the corner of their velvet dining bench, hoodie sleeves tugged over your fingers, legs tucked beneath you as you sipped from a glass of red that had somehow stayed full all night. Dinner had ended hours ago, long cleared plates, now replaced by mugs of tea and crumbling squares of dark chocolate. The fire crackled behind you. Susie was nursing her third Earl Grey. George and Lewis had undone the top buttons of their joggers. And Toto had been silently watching you for the last half hour, that unreadable, faintly amused glint in his eye, the one he got whenever he knew something no one else did.

It was a regular Thursday. This happened more often than most people would believe. Quiet dinners. Team bonding. The Mercedes inner circle, stripped of lanyards and radio mics and performance reports. Just family.

Which was why the silence that followed your next sentence was so loud. "I have an announcement."

George glanced up from where he was dissecting a leftover slice of cake. "Oh?"

Susie smiled warmly, settling her chin on her palm. "Go on then, love."

You didn't get a word out.

"Which team?" Toto asked, not even blinking. His voice cut through the room like a blade, cool, casual, sharp. Like he already knew. Of course he did.

You blinked, then smirked, lips curving slowly and smugly as you swirled your wine. "Ferrari. Fred called me this morning."

And just like that, everything shifted. Lewis sat up straighter. George stopped chewing. Susie let out the tiniest laugh, the disbelieving kind. And Toto... Toto clenched his jaw, flexing it once, twice, before exhaling through his nose.

"How much?" he asked, low.

You tilted your head. "Less than Mercedes currently pays me."

It was quiet for a beat. Then:

"What the fuck?" George said.

"Wait, hold on." Lewis was squinting at you like you'd just spoken in code. "Why didn't you say 'less than you currently pay me'?"

You smiled sweetly. "Because Mercedes pays me. Toto tops me up."

Toto's mouth curled at the corner. A smirk. Sinful. Like the secret was his and no one else's.

George blinked. "What-wait, what do you mean Toto tops you up?"

"Literally what it sounds like," you shrugged, reaching lazily for a piece of chocolate and popping it between your lips. "Mercedes pay me well. Toto just makes sure I'm comfortable."

Lewis tilted his head. "Comfortable how?"

You chewed slowly. Swallowed. Then looked him dead in the eye. "He pays for my apartment. And covers all my travel costs."

Lewis and George looked between each other, then at Toto.

Susie didn't flinch. She sipped her tea.

George let out a low whistle. "Fuck me."

"Why didn't I get that kind of deal?" Lewis grinned, nudging Toto with his knee under the table.

"Because you're not twenty-two and holding the spine of both of my drivers together," Toto replied evenly.

"You're joking," George said, eyes wide. "You've been paying for her apartment? For how long?"

Toto's voice was casual. "Since the last physiotherapist quit and Ferrari tried to poach her. It was cheaper than replacing her."

Lewis raised a brow. "And the flights?"

"I don't like her waiting at airports," Toto said simply.

You didn't bother to hide your grin. You loved watching them unravel.

George stared. "Mate. I knew you liked her but Jesus-"

"She's the best," Toto cut in. "They're not getting her. Not for less."

You lifted your glass. "Fred made a good pitch."

Toto's eyes flicked to yours, something dark glittering behind the lenses of his reading glasses. "And you said?"

You leaned back, licking red wine from your bottom lip. "I said I'd think about it."

George groaned, falling dramatically against the chair. "You're such a fucking tease."

"She's worse than you, mate," Lewis added, grinning.

"Why are you here tonight then?" Toto asked softly, eyes still on you. "To say goodbye?"

You shook your head. "To see what you'd say."

He didn't speak. Just stared. Quiet. Calculating. Then, slowly, "Do you want more?"

You raised your brows. "More?"

"Money. Car. Driver perks. Do you want more?"

You smiled. "Not sure. Depends on what you're offering."

Toto set down his mug. Slowly. Deliberately. "Stay with Mercedes, and I'll buy you a better apartment."

Lewis choked on his tea. George just gaped.

You went still. "What?" you asked, voice quieter.

"A three bedroom apartment isnt big enough really, youve got a bedroom, a physio room and a home gym," he said. "If we got you a bigger place, say a five bed, you could have a whole room as a wardrobe and a spare room. You've earned it. You're not going to Ferrari for a salary cut."

"Wait," George said, waving a hand. "You're offering her a flat?"

"A penthouse," Toto corrected.

"You're insane," Lewis muttered, almost admiringly.

You didn't move. Your fingers had tightened slightly around the stem of your glass. Your throat felt hot. Your stomach buzzed. "That's not... normal," you said softly.

"You're not normal," Toto said simply. And for a second, one long, razor-thin second, the rest of the room didn't exist. Not the laughter. Not the heat of the fire. Not even the shadows of George and Lewis half-horrified on the other side of the table.

Just you, still in your hoodie and fluffy socks, blinking at the man who had, apparently, been playing a game of chess with your life without ever needing to tell you. "You know this is fucked, right?" you said finally.

Toto smiled. Susie cleared her throat. "Darling, if you think this is the most fucked thing that's happened under this roof, you really haven't been here long enough."

Toto settled back into his usual armchair, long legs crossed, one elbow draped casually over the side. Susie took the far end of the couch, tucking her legs under a cashmere throw. Lewis, barefoot, collapsed into the opposite end like a king returning to his throne, hoodie hiked up just enough to show a flash of tattooed hip. And George? George took the floor like he owned it.

Sprawled across the thick Persian rug in nothing but joggers and a t-shirt, he sighed dramatically, arms flung overhead like he was auditioning for a cologne ad.

"Fuck, my thigh's killing me," he groaned.

You raised a brow from where you were perching on the edge of the armrest, sipping your wine with a smirk. "So stretch it."

"Can't. Hurts."

"Then rest."

"Or..." George rolled his head back, flashing you a slow, shit-eating grin. "You could be a good little physio and sort it out for me."

Lewis laughed under his breath, barely hiding his smirk. Toto didn't even look up, just muttered, "Here we go."

Susie sipped her tea, utterly unbothered. "You're so predictable, Georgie."

You rolled your eyes but set your glass down anyway. "Alright, alright. Get your pathetic ass in position."

That was all the permission George needed. In one smooth movement, he kicked off his joggers, stripping down to his boxers without a hint of shame, then lay flat on his back right in front of the fireplace, spreading his legs like it was the most natural thing in the world. You knelt between them, stretching your fingers out and cracking your knuckles, already regretting this, already knowing exactly how it was going to go.

Because this wasn't new. Not even close.

You'd fucked George more than once. Him and Lewis both. Sometimes together, sometimes not. Sometimes after race wins, sometimes after race losses, sometimes just because you were all bored in a hotel suite and the minibar was running low. It was never romantic. It was never planned. It just... happened. Over and over again. Like muscle memory. Like sin with a familiar face.

Your hands pressed into George's upper thigh, slow and firm, working deep into the tension while he let out a dramatic moan.

"Ohh my god-yes, there, fuck-right there-"

You snorted. "Jesus, George."

"You're magic," he groaned, eyes fluttering shut. "Fucking magic."

Lewis howled from the sofa. "Can you keep it down? Some of us are trying to digest."

Toto rolled his eyes without looking up from his phone. "He's always like this."

"He's worse when he's hard," you muttered.

"Am hard," George said cheerfully, eyes still closed. "Have been since you touched me."

Susie didn't even blink. "It's the wine. He gets like this when he drinks."

You looked down. Yup. Obvious. George had tented his boxers without shame, cock straining against the thin fabric like he was ready to fuck right there on the rug. His hips bucked slightly into your hands as you continued the massage, and you felt the shift, that flicker of heat behind the performance. He wasn't just teasing. He was aching.

His hand slid lazily into your hair. "Can you help me out or what?"

You tilted your head, amused. "Help you out how?"

He opened one eye. Smirked. "C'mon, sweetheart. You know how."

Lewis groaned into his hoodie. "He's shameless. You're so fucking shameless."

"She doesn't mind," George said, still petting your hair. "She likes me desperate."

You looked up at him, lips twitching. "I like you pathetic."

"Same thing," he muttered, rolling his hips again.

There was no protest in the room. No awkward glances. No tension. This was the fucked-up dynamic you all lived in, one foot in sin, one in safety. Everyone knew the lines had been crossed months ago. No one pretended otherwise.

You paused. Shifted forward slightly on your knees. Let your hand rest higher on his thigh, your thumb grazing the base of the bulge under his boxers. George exhaled hard, mouth falling open.

"Say please," you murmured.

He looked down at you, pupils blown wide, hair messy against the rug. "Please."

You let your palm press fully against him, slow and firm. He arched up slightly into the touch, one hand still tangled in your hair.

Lewis chuckled darkly. "So fucking predictable."

"He always begs," Susie added, voice light. "It's his thing."

Toto finally looked up, glasses low on his nose. "Can't even get a massage without needing to be milked like a fucking cow."

George didn't care. He was panting now, hips twitching up. "Fuck-come on, please-please-"

You pulled his boxers down just enough. Just to free him. His cock slapped against his stomach, flushed and leaking, twitching at the air. You stared for a beat. Took a slow breath.

Then you looked up at him and smiled, soft and wicked. "Be good, George."

His eyes fluttered shut as your mouth closed over him, hot and wet and slow.

The weight of George's cock on your tongue, hot and twitching and impossibly swollen, pulled every sound from him like a spell. His moans came loud, ragged, high in the throat — the kind of sound that would have gotten him kicked out of most hotels for public indecency. But here, in the heart of the Wolff mansion, with the firelight casting gold shadows across his bare stomach and your mouth stretched open over him, it was just another Thursday night.

He was falling apart fast.

"Fuckfuckfuck-" he gasped, hips stuttering up into your mouth, his hand still tangled in your hair. "You're-shit, you're so fucking good-don't stop, don't stop, don't you fucking-"

Your nails dug into the meat of his thigh, a wordless warning, and he whimpered like a kicked dog. You were still in control. You always were.

You didn't gag. You didn't choke. You knew how to relax your throat just enough to tease the edge of surrender, but never give it away completely. George wasn't just desperate—he was pathetic. Bucking his hips, gasping every time your lips slid to the base, cursing into the air as your spit dripped down his length and pooled beneath his tailbone.

Across the room, Lewis was silent.

But you could feel his eyes. The shift in the atmosphere. The static pressure of attention, not from George, not from Susie's amused glances, not from Toto's unreadable stare, but from Lewis. His presence was hot, magnetic, unmistakable.

You could hear him breathing.

George choked out a half-laugh as his thighs trembled. "She's gonna ruin me-Jesus-"

"She already has," Lewis murmured.

Your lashes fluttered. You didn't look up. Then Lewis moved.

You heard it, the creak of the sofa, the whisper of his sweats against skin, the subtle scuff as he crossed the rug. He didn't sit. He didn't kneel. He just lowered himself next to George's head, elbow on his knee, chin in his hand, watching.

"Getting comfortable?" Toto asked dryly, voice low and rich from the armchair.

"Yeah," Lewis said, eyes fixed on your mouth. "Don't wanna miss the show."

"She's got talent," George gasped, laughing, delirious, his chest rising too fast. "Fucking mouth of a god-fuck-"

"Mm." Lewis's eyes dragged over you, slow and dangerous. "She's definitely got something."

"You're both sick," Susie said mildly, but her tone held no judgment, only amusement. She unfolded from the couch gracefully, smoothing down her sweater, gathering her teacup. "I'll leave you boys to it. Try not to get bodily fluids on the rug, please."

George moaned even louder at that, which made her laugh. She padded toward the stairs, shooting you one last smirk as she passed behind you.

"You're the most expensive asset in Brackley, darling," she whispered in your ear. "Use it well."

And then she was gone.

You didn't stop. If anything, you slowed down, mouth working him with deeper suction, tongue curling expertly, hands pinning George's hips as he began to writhe beneath you.

Lewis shifted again. Closer. His knuckles brushed your cheek.

"You need a hand?" he asked, voice low, teasing, laced with a lazy hunger.

You hummed around George's cock, and the vibration made him cry out, a strangled, pleading sound. He was close. Soclose. One more flick of your tongue.

He came with a loud, broken shout, his whole body convulsing, fingers yanking your hair as his orgasm pulsed hot into your mouth. You held him down, took every drop. Swallowed. Then slowly pulled off, wiping your lips with the back of your hand.

George collapsed into the rug like a man freshly exorcised. "Dead. I'm dead. I've seen God."

You sat back on your heels, breath steady, gaze flicking between the two men, Lewis, leaning in with that familiar glint in his eye, and Toto, who hadn't moved. Not even an inch. But he was watching. Oh, he was watching.

Lewis reached forward, hand brushing yours. "My turn?" he offered, cocky and casual.

You raised an eyebrow. "Your turn for what?"

He leaned in until your noses almost touched. "For some attention."

Your smirk curved slow and dangerous. "What, you want a reward just for watching?"

"I want dessert," he murmured, eyes dropping to your mouth.

And just as you were about to kiss him, Toto's voice cut through the room. "Careful." Both of you turned your heads. Toto was still in his chair, still composed, but his gaze was heavy. Not angry. Just... possessive.

Lewis chuckled under his breath. "Jealous?"

Toto didn't blink. "Just reminding her how well she's paid for her loyalty."

That word landed like a hot brand between your ribs. Loyalty. He always used it like currency. Like a chain. Like a game only he knew the rules to.

You tilted your chin. "Loyalty doesn't mean exclusivity."

Toto smiled faintly. "No, it doesn't. But it does mean knowing who bought you the keys to your front door."

Lewis let out a low whistle. "Damn."

George groaned from the floor. "Toto's such a fucking sugar dad. Can I marry him instead?"

"No," Toto replied instantly.

You laughed. Stretched out, reaching for your wine. You took a long, slow sip, tongue dragging along the rim of the glass. "I'm loyal," you said finally. "But I'm not tame."

Toto's smirk curved cruel and soft. "No, schatzi. You never were."

The fire crackled. George was still panting. Lewis was still close, still touching you. And somewhere upstairs, Susie was probably pouring herself another drink, shaking her head with a grin. Lewis's hand. Light on your wrist. Thumb dragging against your pulse point like it was counting something it already knew.

You turned your head just as he pulled you toward him, slow but firm, your wine glass slipping from your fingers as he guided you down beside George on the rug. The carpet was warm from bodies. From fire. From tension.

"Been dying to do this all night," Lewis murmured, voice low, already leaning in.

You didn't answer. You just let it happen, his lips crashing into yours, hungry and soft and hot. His hands cupped your jaw with almost reverent greed, kissing you like he wanted to taste George on your tongue. And you gave it to him, opened your mouth and kissed him back like it hurt, fingers knotting in his hoodie, pulling him closer, closer, until your thighs spread under the weight of him.

You felt George stir beside you, a lazy hand sliding over your hip, his nose nuzzling your shoulder.

"Mmm," he groaned, voice hoarse. "She's still warm."

Lewis broke the kiss just long enough to glance down. "You got one in you, Georgie?"

George grinned without opening his eyes. "I'll always make room for her."

And just like that, the rhythm shifted again.

Lewis leaned down to mouth at your neck, tongue wet and slow against your throat while George pressed soft kisses to your shoulder from behind. Their hands were everywhere, tracing, teasing, dragging over your thighs and waist like you were the last sweet thing left on earth. You felt their contrast in real time: Lewis, commanding and focused, pulling moans from you with firm fingers and filthy words; George, messy and needy, suckling at your skin and laughing breathlessly every time your legs twitched.

"Fuck, she's close again," Lewis muttered, thumb circling where it mattered most.

"Course she is," George said, voice thick. "She's always been easy for you."

You didn't even care. Not anymore. The shame had burned off in the firelight hours ago. You were bare, stretched, worshipped, their hands working in sync, tongues trading off along your ribs and breasts and thighs until you were writhing, panting, begging.

Your second orgasm hit like a punch, raw and full-body, back arching, voice cracking as you gripped Lewis's shoulders like they were the only thing keeping you tethered. George sucked a bruise into your thigh and Lewis kissed your jaw through it, murmuring nonsense against your skin while your body trembled beneath them both.

And then Lewis moved. He rose to his knees, breathing hard, eyes half-lidded and dark with hunger. His hands slid under your thighs and lifted you like nothing, your body pliant, boneless from release, dizzy with overstimulation.

"Come on," he murmured, low and hot. "Let's show him what his money gets."

You didn't even ask who he meant. Because there was only one man in that chair. Toto hadn't spoken in twenty minutes. But he was watching. Still. Unblinking.

And when Lewis carried you over to him, barefoot and smirking, your bare thighs pressed around his hips, your skin slick with sweat and spit, Toto didn't flinch.

He just looked up at you like you were a cathedral built for his pleasure. Lewis straddled you over him, placing you like a gift. Like a possession returning to its master. Your knees settled either side of Toto's hips, your chest flush with his broad chest, his hands instinctively settling on your ass as if they belongedthere. His grip was firm. Expectant.

"She's had two," Lewis said, voice gravelly. "Thought it was your turn."

Toto looked up at him, eyes amused. "How generous."

You were panting, still dazed. "You're not surprised."

He leaned in, lips brushing your ear. "Darling," he whispered, "I've been paying for this since the moment you walked through the door."

And then he kissed you, slow and brutal and owned.

The air had changed.

It wasn't just the heat, though the fireplace roared like a secret behind you, casting sweat-slick shadows across your skin and Toto's crisp black shirt. And it wasn't just the way Lewis had settled back onto the rug, cock out, lazily stroking himself as he watched you from below, his teeth worrying at his lip like he couldn't decide if he wanted to keep touching himself or touch you again.

No, it was Toto.

His grip on your hips was unforgiving. Not cruel. Not rushed. But intentional. One hand cupped the underside of your thigh while the other traced the curve of your ass with slow reverence, as though he were reacquainting himself with something he'd never really let go of. His touch burned with memory, with knowledge. Like he knew every way you unravelled. And tonight, he was going to remind you.

Because you were his. Not Mercedes's. His.

"You let them take their fill," he murmured, voice low and rich, his Austrian accent wrapping around every syllable like honey on glass. "But you still crawl back to me."

You tried to speak, some half-formed breath of a comeback, a moan, maybe a plea, but it disappeared as he gripped your jaw and turned your face toward him, eyes locked. His were darker now, sharper behind his glasses. Commanding. He didn't need to raise his voice. He never did.

"You don't come for Fred," he said softly, thumb brushing your bottom lip. "You don't come for a salary. You don't come for George, or Lewis, or praise. You come for me."

He lifted his hips just enough, just enough, to press the hard, hot weight of his cock against your entrance, and your body betrayed you instantly. You ached for him. Slick. Open. Wrecked from pleasure but somehow needing more. His presence filled every nerve, every cell, every hollow part of you the boys couldn't quite reach. Because they played. But Toto?

Toto owned. 

"Say it," he whispered, rubbing himself against your folds, maddeningly slow. "Say who you belong to."

You exhaled. A whisper. A crack. "You."

He pushed in. The breath left your lungs like a prayer as he slid inside, inch by inch, stretching you with devastating control. He didn't slam. He didn't rush. He claimed. One hand at your hip, the other resting gently on your spine, guiding your body to take him the way you were always meant to.

George groaned from the floor. "Fucking hell-she's still so tight-"

"She's perfect," Lewis muttered, still stroking himself. "Look at her-look how deep he's in-"

You weren't looking at either of them. You couldn't. You were locked onto Toto, forehead to forehead, your palms flat against his chest, legs shaking where they were folded around his waist. He filled you completely. Like he always did. Like he was built for the inside of you.

He rolled his hips once. Deep. Slow. Purposeful.

You whimpered.

"You let them play," Toto murmured. "But this-this is where you end."

You clenched around him. He grinned.

"Every time," he said, voice a growl. "Every time you act like you're theirs, and every time I put you back in your place."

You wanted to argue. But you couldn't. Because he was fucking you with goddamn precision, slow, brutal thrusts that lit every nerve like a fuse. You could feel your orgasm building again, shamefully fast, the oversensitivity making every drag of his cock feel like lightning.

Lewis was moaning under his breath. George had started stroking himself again, hand lazy and uncoordinated. But none of it mattered.

Only Toto mattered.

"Do you think Fred would fuck you like this?" he asked softly, punctuating it with another deep roll of his hips. "Do you think he'd learn your body the way I did?"

You gasped. "N-no-"

"Do you think he'd pay for your apartment and your flights and your silence-"

You whimpered. "Toto-"

"Say it again."

You clenched your eyes shut. "I'm yours."

"Louder."

"I'm yours."

His thrusts picked up. Still slow. Still cruel. But harder. Your thighs started shaking again, your nails digging into his chest, your cunt fluttering helplessly around him as the pressure crested again, your third orgasm boiling in your gut like it couldn't bear to be held back.

"Good girl," he whispered, lips brushing your jaw. "Come for me. Let them watch."

And you did.

You shattered.

You came around him with a cry, legs locking, head thrown back, your whole body twitching as he fucked you through it. Toto held you still, riding out your orgasm with steady, punishing thrusts until you were sobbing into his collarbone, too wrecked to move, too full to speak.

He came with a quiet grunt, one hand gripping your hip, the other fisting the back of your hair as he spilled inside you, heat spreading through your core in long, deep pulses. And still, still, he held you.

Slow. Possessive. Tender in a way that made it worse. You collapsed into his chest, shaking. George let out a groan beside you. Lewis whispered something that sounded like fuck, that was insane.

But Toto? Toto just smoothed a hand down your spine. And when he spoke again, it was so soft you barely heard it: "You'll never leave me."

[whumpetywhumpwhump]

Maisie's guide to disguised AI

If you've been anywhere near AO3 recently, you've probably encountered AI writing at some point. As somebody who writes for, primarily, the ER fandom (and occasionally the Pitt, too), I've noticed a concerning trend over the last few days: AI-generated fanfiction clogging the tags.

Firstly, I'd like to say that if you ARE posting fics on AO3 that were AI-generated, and you're passing them off as your own, please stop. I know this is not likely to actually resonate with you if this IS you, but on the off-chance that you do see this- please use tags as intended and make it clear that you're using AI.

Secondly, before I go into some AI tells in detail, I want to preface this with a warning- just because you see one or two of these in a fic, there's no guarantee that it was AI-generated. Please approach the matter of flagging fics with care, because the last thing I want is to incite a witch hunt against innocent people just engaging in fandom.

However, when seen in tandem, these signs should act as a warning to think a little more deeply about what you're reading, and ask the question- was this human written?

1. Em-dashes

I'm getting this one out of the way quickly because it's something easily identifiable, but it should by no means discredit a fic on its own. Real people can use em-dashes, but ChatGPT uses them a LOT. Like, a distracting amount. And they're often used in conjunction with...

2. 'Not' qualifiers

ChatGPT doesn't do 'yes, and'. It seems to work off 'no, but' instead (sorry @pagingdoctorcarter , like an AI, I am stealing your phrase here. But I do have the decency to credit, I suppose!).

Take this sentence I've come up with right now:

Carter was so exhausted he was struggling to stand, legs trembling with the strain of keeping him upright.

AI might write something like this (using my own creative license here because I don't want to feed the beast):

Carter was exhausted— not the regular exhaustion that came with twelve hours on his feet. Something deeper. Heavier.

3. Repetitive phrases.

AI is not original, so it can't come up with anything original, of course. This means that it relies on basic phrases it uses over and over and over again e.g 'the kind of (blank) that (blank)'

4. The classic 'concrete noun' + 'abstract noun' combo

For reasons that I can't quite understand, AI adores this. Some humans include this combo in their work, too, but AI does it even more frequently. Some real phrases I've encountered so far include:

"a story about meatballs and betrayal"

"champagne and anxiety soaked into the upholstery"

5. Anachronisms and inaccuracies

This is especially present in a fandom like ER, where most of the time we're writing about the 90s, and this CAN be attributed to genuine human error... but if Carter is repeatedly 'swiping' on his phone screen to open a call, and everyone's always texting... could be AI.

In a similar vein, if someone is shouting 'code blue!' for things that AREN'T cardiac arrest, or mixing up names and even hallucinating random characters- think 'maybe AI'.

6. Short sentences, short paragraphs, short chapters.

AI doesn't have the ability to understand how paragraphs are structured for ease of reading and flow. So it likes short sentences. Snappy sentences.

And not just when the situation suits it. But always.

If there's a hell of a lot of paragraphs, it could be AI. AI doesn't like including many clauses. At all.

7. Generic similes and phrases that don't mean anything at all

This relates to the 'concrete noun + abstract noun combo' but, more generally, AI produces writing that veers away from specifics. It won't often describe places in too much detail, and when it comes to similes, it uses simple, overused ones OR spouts a series of words that are meaningless. If you see an abstract simile in a fic, take a second. Is it abstract because it's complex and has several layers, or is it utterly meaningless?

8. A crazy update schedule

This one is less reliable because it IS possible to bank chapters and then post a lot in one go, but if an author is posting many thousands of words in the span of a few days, consider this a small red flag- especially in conjunction with the other things mentioned. It could mean they're just pumping out AI-generated writing, and this allows them to move far quicker than any human.

9. Overly mushy dialogue

AI is a thief, but it's a happy-go-lucky thief. Characters speak like they stepped straight off Sesame Street at times, lacking any kind of emotional complexity.

10. Awful, awful jokes

AI cannot write jokes. It simply cannot. If you read a joke in a fic that feels Disney-Channel esque but also doesn't make sense at all? It very well could be AI.

For instance:

Nobody talks like this.

Also, note the 'concrete noun + abstract noun' combo again here! (This actually was an AI fic as confirmed by author before deletion, not naming them here): 'gauze and intuition'.

Conclusion

Be vigilant. Don't fall for AI crap and, if you disagree with the concept of AI work clogging AO3 tags, definitely don't leave kudos.

And if you're posting this stuff, yet again I ask you politely, please STOP.

Thank you.

[benvolioknowsbest-blog]

It always drives me nuts when someone says type one is the "good kind" because it's such a loaded phrase. The person saying it probably doesn't even comprehend the decades of anti-fat propaganda that underpins it (and that's not even touching on how society views people who are chronically ill - to call that bad would be an understatement).

Diabetes as a whole is such a misunderstood (willfully in some cases) disease. I *get* why people with type one lean into the whole "good vs. bad" diabetes rhetoric as it's often the only empathy we get for such a challenging illness. HOWEVER, we have a responsibility to our fellow diabetics to delve a bit deeper and feel a bit more empathy for people who no more 'did it to themselves' than we did.

I'm sure there's also a little jealousy that goes on, too. When the wider world looks at your disease and doesn't see how challenging it is EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. it can be difficult to have empathy for diabetics who don't have to do as much as others to manage their disease.

There's talk of changing the name of type one to something different and I wholeheartedly understand why people want to do this. But for me, the name isn't the problem. Society as a whole is the issue (when isn't it). We need more understanding and less ignorance about the challenges people with any chronic illness face in their daily lives. More understanding that illness/dieases/disability should be treated with respect and dignity regardless of any circumstance will go a long way to helping this.

damn people rly hate type 2 diabetics don't they

[confuzing]

...So, that All the Shen Siblings Transmigrate AU? I wrote the Qijiu reconciliation in that universe. It's 1800 words long so I'm gonna read more most of it.

 Yue Qingyuan woke in the dead of night and found himself unable to move from the neck down. A shadowy figure was leaving his room.  He would be more concerned about this if he didn’t recognize the toddler the shadowy figure had left sitting on his chest.

“Shen Meishan,” he greeted her. “It’s nice to see you.”

Meimei giggled at him. 

“Clearly your brothers are up to something,” he said. “Do you know what?”

Meimei answered, but she was unfortunately in that stage of babyhood where most of what she said was babbling, and he did not possess her brothers’ talent for interpreting her. He thought he caught the word ‘gege’ but that wasn’t much help.

“I see,” he said. At least his training in diplomacy had taught him what to do when someone was talking nonsense.

Meimei nodded solemnly, then reached out and poked his nose.

“Ding!” she said.

“Oh fascinating,” Yue Qingyuan said.  “I didn’t know it did that.”

Meimei giggled again.

It had likely been the eldest Shen who had paralyzed him.  Qian Cao doctors could do a lot with their acupuncture needles- though he wouldn’t put it past Shen Yuan to have found a plant or artifact that had the same effect.

He could hear a scuffle coming his way, so he’d find out soon enough.

The door to his room opened and he watched Shen Qingqiu be wrestled into the room by his brothers.

“Shen Qingqiu,” he greeted. He didn’t get a response but that was understandable, Shen Qingqiu was busy.

“Shen Xuan,” he continued his greetings.  Technically it was Chen Xuan, but the eldest Shen had stopped protesting the name change months ago.

“Zhangmen-shixiong,” Shen Xuan replied calmly. Like he didn’t have his brother in a headlock, and as if he couldn’t feel Xiao Jiu biting his arm.

“Shen Yuan,” Yue Qingyuan concluded.

His disciple winced but then put on the same serene mask his siblings often wore and said, “Shizun.”

Surprisingly Luo Binghe wasn’t present.  Shen Yuan’s ever present shadow was not welcome at whatever this was… that actually made Yue Qingyuan a little nervous.

Shen Yuan deliberately tripped Shen Jiu, allowing Shen Xuan to manhandle him down onto the bed beside Yue Qingyuan.

Meimei giggled at the ‘thump’ they made hitting the bed.

“I’m glad you think this is funny,” Shen Jiu snapped at her with less than a quarter of his usual venom.

Shen Jiu was face down on the bed; Shen Xuan seated himself on his back while Shen Yuan sat on his legs. Shen Xuan also pinned Shen Jiu’s wrists.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he snarled at full venom.

“We’re here to ask Qi-ge some questions.” Shen Xuan said. 

The ‘Qi-ge’ made his heart freeze. Oh.  That’s what this was about. 

Xiao Jiu went wild, nearly succeeding in bucking his siblings off him before he seemed to surrender completely.

“He isn’t going to fucking say anything.” Shen Jiu said. “He never fucking does.”

“Well we’re gonna sit here until he does,” Shen Yuan piped up.  “We have co-conspirators, you won’t be missed for some time Shizun.”

Ah, that’s where Luo Binghe was, possibly Mu Qingfang was in on this as well. If that was the case he could truly go unmissed for at least a day or so before anyone got suspicious and came looking.

“Now,” Shen Xuan said. “Why didn’t you come back for Shen Jiu like you promised?”

The familiar omnipresent guilt washed over him, but the audience didn’t change his response.

“I am very sorry for what I’ve done,” he said.

Having four Shens glare at him was a new experience- much more oppressive than just one.

Meimei crawled off his chest and went to sit in Shen Yuan’s lap.

“See?” Shen Jiu said. “This is fucking pointless.”

Yue Qingyuan had not met Chen Xuan before he became Shen Xuan. The eldest Shen had always seemed like a calm, level-headed, and sweet man to him.  Now he watched the man get quietly furious just as Xiao Jiu did, before his face shifted into the cold calculating look Yue Qingyuan saw most often on Xiao Jiu or Shen Yuan.

Shen Xuan looked down at Shen Jiu. “I’m sorry didi.” He said, and bent to kiss Shen Jiu’s temple.

Shen Jiu couldn’t turn his head more than it was, but he clearly wanted to, squirming to try to get a better look at his older brother.  “What are you going to do?” he asked.

Shen Xuan ignored him and locked eyes with Yue Qingyuan.

“He thinks you hate him you know,” Shen Xuan said. “He thinks you never intended to come back for him and that you threw him away like trash. Is he right?”

Yue Qingyuan was thunderstruck, that couldn’t be right- surely Xiao Jiu knew how much he adored him. He couldn’t-

Xiao Jiu let out a stifled sob. Yue Qingyuan tried for the first time since waking to move- but he couldn’t.  The other Shen siblings on the other hand moved immediately. Both Shen Jiu’s brothers got off him, Shen Xuan pulling Shen Jiu up into a seated position to hug him.  Shen Yuan and Meimei scooting over to hug him from the other side, sandwiching Xiao Jiu in the middle of his siblings.  Xiao Jiu hid his face in Shen Yuan’s hair for a moment before looking over at Yue Qingyuan.

“Just say it already,” Shen Jiu said-begged.  His eyes were wet. “Just say you hate me so we can stop fucking pretending.”

“Xiao Jiu is my favorite person in the world. I could never hate him.” Yue Qingyuan heard himself say.

Had Xiao Jiu truly thought this the whole time? Was that why he was so angry? Not because he was mad at him for being an idiot, but because he thought Yue Qingyuan was pretending not to hate him? 

But of course that was why, he realized. His own agitation made qi surge between himself and Xuan Su on its stand across the room.  After all Xiao Jiu had no idea how stupid his Qi-ge had been.

“You left me,” Xiao Jiu snapped. “And you never came back. What was I supposed to think?”

What indeed? What had the expected Xiao Jiu to do? He’d been so young when they parted, and so sensitive to any rejection.  Of course he’s thought Yue Qingyuan had abandoned him.  He really was tremendously stupid.

“I did come back,” Yue Qingyuan said. Explaining was like ripping his own heart out of his chest, like being alone in those caves again- but he’d endured it once for Xiao Jiu, he would do it again. “I was too late.”

“What?”

“I spent a week digging through the smoldering ruins of Qiu manor before my Shizun came and dragged me back to the sect. I thought you were dead.  Seeing you alive at the Immortal Alliance Conference was the best day of my life.”

Xiao Jiu’s eyes were wide as saucers, his whole face a picture of shock. 

“Gege let him up,’ he said eventually.

Shen Xuan stopped hugging him just long enough to remove the acupuncture needles from Yue Qingyuan’s neck.

He had the strangest sensation of something crawling all over him for a moment, but he ignored it in favor of sitting up so he could look Xiao Jiu in the eyes.

“Why did you take so long?” he asked.

Yue Qingyuan grimaced, but Xiao Jiu deserved to know.

“Qi-ge did something very foolish,” he said.

“He always does when I’m not there to keep an eye on him.” Xiao Jiu countered. “He’s simply an idiot I fear.”

The affection in those insults was a balm on his soul. He took a deep breath and spilled his guts.

“I was going to come for you as soon as I got my spiritual sword.  I trained as hard as I could as fast as I could- but when I went to pull my sword… I thought I needed the best sword, the strongest, to save Xiao Jiu.”

“Xuan Su didn’t pick me, I forced the bond.”

All three Shen brothers gasped. Adorably, a beat later Meimei did as well.

“Can you do that?” Shen Yuan asked.

“Only if you want to literally explode.” Shen Xuan told him.

“How are you alive?” he asked Yue Qingyuan.

“I was a good enough match the sword didn’t immediately kill me- and then my Shizun bound my soul to Xuan Su’s qi.  The process kept me alive, but Xuan Su remade my spiritual veins and bones to suit its needs- I was essentially qi deviating the entire time it was happening.”

“How long was that?” Xiao Jiu asked.

“A year. They sealed me in a chamber in the Ling Xi caves so I didn’t hurt anyone.”

“Except yourself!” Xiao Jiu hissed. “The chamber with the bloodstains…”

“Yes.” Yue Qingyuan said, eyes dropping. “I came for you the moment they let me out- but it was too late.”

Warm arms embraced him, he looked up to find Xiao Jiu hugging him, and glaring more.

“You absolute fucking idiot!” he snapped.  “Why the fuck would you need a giant fucking sword to come fly me away?”

“This one is lost without his Xiao Jiu.”

“Clearly you half-wit!”

“You never draw your sword,” Shen Xuan said.  He was clearly herding the youngest two Shens toward the door.

“When I do it burns through my own life-force.” Yue Qingyuan explained.

Xiao Jiu’s arms tightened around him.  If he was lucky they would leave bruises.

“Does Mu Qingfang know?” Shen Xuan asked.

“Before tonight he was the only other person still on this plane besides me who knew.”

Shen Xuan nodded.

“Shen Yuan,” Xiao Jiu said suddenly. “Do not tell that little beast about this.”

Shen Yuan nodded and left, holding Meimei.  Shen Xuan was right behind them.

Once they were gone Yue Qingyuan said. “He’s absolutely going to tell Luo Binghe.”

“I know.” Xiao Jiu grumbled. “I’ll threaten the brat into silence later.”

He eyed Yue Qingyuan. “I’m still mad at you,” he said. He had not let go of Yue Qingyuan yet.

“I deserve all the anger you want to give me,” Yue Qingyuan said. “I failed to save you, and then I let you suffer while I wallowed in self pity and shame.”

Xiao Jiu slapped him hard. “And you nearly killed yourself you stupid piece of shit!”

Yue Qingyuan was still stunned from the slap when Xiao Jiu kissed him hard, biting his lip until it bled.  He was only just able to kiss back before Xiao Jiu pulled away.

He had Yue Qingyuan’s blood on his teeth as he spoke. “You aren’t allowed to die- do you understand?” He shoved Yue Qingyuan down on to his back and climbed on top of him. “I forbid it!”

“Of course, whatever Xiao Jiu wants.”

Xiao Jiu huffed and bent over him.

“Good,”” he snapped and bit Yue Qingyuan’s mouth again. “Don’t you forget!”