#im SO exhausted and drained and spent

[shocked-collar]

Oh.... my god.

[skullzy20]

Made a ref of my SOT sona specifically for Artfight but I put too much effort into it to not post it here

Scar mapping w info under cut, warning for nudity (not explicit)

[cainsgibsongirl]

god i need to move ouuuut im dying

[marrrrss]

hi if you do harvey specter requests rn can you please do a story with him being really stressed at work and when he comes home he doesn’t have to hold up his facade and can be seen as someone who isn’t unfazed

Home

(Harvey Specter x girlfriend!reader)

Pure Fluff

Summary: request

Word count: 371

TW: none

Authors note: spent last week with a stye (had to google the name in english, because i had no idea), now im fine (no doctor visits needed thank god).

(ps: do not touch your face if you dont have your hands clean, especially your eyes)

(gifts not mine)--(english's not my first language)

It was late. Too late even for Harvey.

The exaushtion creeped into his bones. Just... pure exhaustion

Long meetings, tough negotiations. Calls. Too many calls. Too many papers. All in one day.

He didn’t wait until he got home to loosen his tie. As soon as he reached the car, the knot was already looser than it had been three minutes ago when he left the firm.

Harvey felt tired. Exhausted. Drained.

As soon as he opened the door to the condo, the silence hit him—a stark contrast to the chaos of his day.

The sound of the TV lingered in the air. He had told her too many times not to stay up, not to wait for him—especially when he’d texted that he would be late, which meant after midnight.

His briefcase stayed by the entryway, shoes scattered carelessly by the door—he didn’t even bother putting them in place. His jacket hung loosely in his hand as he made his way to the living room.

And there she was.

Asleep on the couch. A blanket draped over her, the book he had bought her—maybe two years ago because she had mentioned it in passing—resting on the coffee table. She had finally started reading it. The trash TV show she, for some reason, loved played softly in the background.

Could Harvey just turn off the TV, pick her up, and take her to bed? Absolutely.

But instead, he simply left his jacket on the back of the couch, lifting the blanket carefully so he wouldn’t wake her.

He lay on his side, pulling her closer, the blanket now covering both of them.

Harvey let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

Now, he wasn’t the best closer. He wasn’t the unbreakable lawyer.

He was just a man—too exhausted to move, just wanting to be close to his girlfriend.

His mind started to slow down when he heard a soft, sleepy voice.

"You good?"

He took a moment, just breathing in her scent—that intoxicating, calming scent.

"Yeah. I’m good," he murmured against her hair, pulling her closer. "Just go back to sleep."

Home. That was all he needed. His home.

[yammpi3]

𝙇𝘼𝙏𝙀 𝙉𝙄𝙂𝙃𝙏 𝙀𝙉𝘾𝙊𝙐𝙉𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙆𝙚𝙞𝙜𝙤 𝙏𝙖𝙠𝙖𝙢𝙞 [𝙃𝙖𝙬𝙠𝙨]

synopsis. You were a former hero commission hero but when you made a simple mistake in a mission the commission sent you on they deemed you unfit and fired you, hence made you out to be a villain to the public. A few years later you meet your old partner Hawks out on his nightly patrol then you guys make up….made out .. :3

— content warnings. sorta plot with smut, eating out, p to v, kissing, sex sex sex, not really coordinated well? i think? dom/sub hawks

— W.C 2.3k

— authors note. This has been rotting in my drafts for like a year now but i thought i should post something…so..heres this!! Im rlly sorry if it’s formatted kinda weirdly, imo the smut is also written sorta weird but i think thats just me..overthinking it ANYWAYS enjoy reading <33 also Thank you FOR 100 FOLLOWERS?? i didn’t expect my blog would reach that much so TYTY.

Hawks sighed heavily, leaning back in his office desk chair, elbows propping on the armrests. He rubbed his tired eyes, tilting his head back, attempting to avoid eye contact with the stack of paperwork that lay out before him.

Every muscle in his body ached with exhaustion. It felt like he had been sitting in this same spot for days, poring over reports and documents in an endless cycle of busy work. As the number-two hero, the public demanded nothing but his very best. They expected him to always be alert and swift in responding to any crisis, dealing with volatile situations and dangerous villains with calm precision. 

But they didn't see this part. They didn't witness the countless late nights spent filling out forms, compiling statistics, and attending meetings after meetings. No cameras captured the headaches induced by mind-numbing bureaucracy or the frustration of dealing with petty politics. This was the hidden cost of his elevated rank—an incessant paper-pushing grindstone that wore him down more than any actual fight ever could. 

 

Slowly dragging his hands down his face, Hawks sighed again as the aches and knots of tension complained loudly in his neck and shoulders. For a brief moment, he considered using his feathers to shred just a few stray documents, to do less work. 

He stretched his arms over his head and rolled his tense muscles, his wings fluttering restlessly behind him. All he wanted at that moment was to forget. To spread his wings and fly through open skies, feeling the wind ruffle through his feathers as he left his troubles far below.

 

Tilting his chair back as far as it would go, he gave a long-suffering look at the piles of work that towered precariously around him, silently pleading with it all to spontaneously catch fire or simply vanish into thin air. With a resigned sigh, Hawks dropped all four chair legs back to the floor and reluctantly pulled the topmost file towards him once more, bracing himself for another grind of the ever-turning wheel.

Hawks rubbed his tired eyes once more, feeling his motivation drain away with each mundane paragraph he read. At this rate, he'd be here all night and well into the morning. With a groan, he tossed the file back onto the pile, temporarily defeated. Maybe a quick break was what he needed to recharge his focus. 

 

Pushing away from his desk, Hawks stood and stretched out his cramped body to its full height, his wings unfolding to their full span. A midnight flight around the city was just what he needed. The cool night air and darkened streets would do wonders for clearing his cluttered mind. 

Stepping out onto his office balcony, Hawks took a few steps back, then launched himself into the sky with his wings. He flew high, circling up towards the crowning heights of the skyscrapers that shone below. Closing his eyes briefly, he took a deep breath of the fresher air, feeling tensions beginning to melt away already. 

 

As he glided back down towards street level, Hawks scanned the sidewalks lazily while lost in thought. He was mulling over the options when movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention. 

Your shadow slipped between alleyways, scanning for any civilians in the area. Suddenly flashes of red nearing a rooftop drew your eye—a familiar winged silhouette.

Going on a nearby rooftop, you spotted Hawks looking down, trying to find who or what he saw. 

You and Hawks used to know each other pretty well in your teen years when you dreamed of being a great hero. So when you were selected by  the Commission to become one, you were ecstatic. But from day one, Keigo Takami made things... complicated.

You two went way back to your training days, though you mostly kept your head down back then. Once in the pro scene though, Takami always found ways to rile you up during sessions, whether with sly taunts or risky stunts that pushed protocol to the limit. 

Part of you wanted to throttle that arrogant asshole, but another part couldn't deny the thrill he made you feel. 

Late nights spent training turned into more..private scenarios. For a time, it was nice to find solace in each other. But then came the ruling—you'd been deemed "not hero material" after one mistake, ruining your future. That's when Takami tried to connect with you again, but the hero commission wouldn't even allow him to be close to you to not damage the reputation he already made with the public. 

"You're up rather late for a hero," you whispered directly into his ear, barely suppressing a chuckle at his startled flinch. Golden eyes met yours warily, yet he made no move to escape our intimate embrace. 

"I'm off duty," was his measured reply. "And you?" Smoke clung thick to the memories in his eyes. 

Your fingers, carefully gloved, traced the proud arch of his wings, feeling tension bleed away slowly. "Care for some company, Keigo?"

He held your gaze steadily, considering. At last he nodded, extending a hand. “Not that I can shake you off anyway,” he replied, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

You sat together on the secluded rooftop, settling close against one another. As you caught up, you both couldn't help but feel deprived of each other's touch; it had been far too long since you'd seen one another face to face. Sure, he'd heard about you through others in the commission, but being here together was different somehow. 

When your voices at last fell silent, a gentle touch turned your chin to meet Hawks' searching eyes. "Y/N…" he murmured, leaning in so your faces were mere inches apart. One of his wings stretched out to block any view from the street below, enveloping you both in its feathery embrace. 

Hawks closed the remaining distance between you, pressing his lips to yours in a soft yet insistent kiss.

One hand came up to cradle the back of your head, fingers threading into your hair, as the other wrapped around your waist to draw you flush against his body. You felt even better than he remembered. 

 

When your lips parted under him, Hawks held back a groan as he rested his forehead against yours as you both panted for air. Wisps of steam rose between the two of you in the chill night. 

If he tasted you fully, it would undo his last shred of willpower.

“You're going to be the end of me.." Hawks murmured thickly. Already, he ached to have more, but taking you here against the railing would be too brazen, even for his recklessness. 

"Then take me somewhere more...private then," you shot back in a sinful whisper. 

With a sly smile, Hawks swept you into his arms in a bridal carry, wings already prepared for launch. "Hold on tight.”

 

Hawks kicked off from the roof of the building and took flight, relishing your tight grip around his shoulders. The thrill of having you in his arms sent adrenaline surging through his veins. 

He landed lightly on the balcony of his high-rise apartment, still holding you securely against his chest. Your masked face was turned up to meet his gaze.

"I.. I really missed you," Hawks murmured, pressing you back against the wall with his body. He caged you in with outspread wings, feathers gently ghosting your skin. 

 

"Me too.." you replied. Your hands came up to roam his body just as eagerly.

Hawks captured your lips in a searing kiss, conveying all his pent-up needs and desires without restraint. This was wrong on so many levels, and yet he'd never felt more alive. 

 

Kicking open the balcony doors, he swept you inside and laid you down on his plush sofa. His hands worked busily to remove your mask, wanting nothing between you and him; clothing fell piece by piece until nothing was left. 

 

"Say you want this," Hawks pleaded roughly, desperate for your answer. 

Your intoxicating laughter rang out as you pulled him against your body. "I want all of you, Keigo." 

Hawks' hands roamed your body eagerly, relearning every curve as his lips traveled along your jawline. You sighed contentedly, arching into his touch while undoing the fastenings of his hero costume with practiced expertise. 

 

Slowly, methodically, he kissed his way down the delicate column of your throat. Hawks lingered there to suckle your rapid pulse, eliciting breathy moans. His name falling from your lips in such a manner sent fresh spikes of arousal through him.

 

As you lay bare under him, Hawks paused to simply take in the sublime vision of your naked form, illuminated by the moonlight. "You're so..beautiful," he whispered in awe, tracing idle patterns upon your sensitized flesh.

 

Your hands delved into the downy feathers at his wings' bases, eliciting a guttural groan. The way you caressed his most sensitive areas, teasing but not quite enough, tested Hawks' faltering control. He nipped lightly at the swell of your breast in retaliation.

Tracing a tortuous path down your torso with wet kisses and love bites, Hawks' fingers dipped between your thighs. He chuckled at discovering your slick arousal, already swollen and desperate for friction. Slowly, he circled your clit, gathering your arousal onto his fingers.

 

"Please..." you begged wantonly, bucking your hips to chase more contact. But Hawks would loathe to grant your unspoken request so easily. He continued his maddening ministrations, coaxing you higher and higher with expert precision. Only when your keening cries bordered on anguish did he finally decide to sink two fingers deep inside.

 

The powerful rhythm he set drove you swiftly towards the peak. Hawks swallowed your hoarse screams of completion, savoring your intimate essence on his tongue.

"I've missed this..," he murmured, pressing a tender kiss on your sensitive bundle of nerves.

 

Then his tongue delved into your slick arousal with deft, practiced strokes. Your responsive sighs and the way you grabbed Takami's hair only spurred him onward in his devotions. 

 

He alternated between broad, flat licks and focused flicks directly over your clit. When Keigo very lightly grazed his teeth along your folds, you keened and bucked again into his ministrations wildly. He hummed his approval, sending vibrations through your core.

 

It did not take long for you to climb once more towards the precipice, unraveling beautifully beneath his skilled mouth. Hawks drank deeply from your release, prolonging each aftershock with slow caresses of his tongue. Only when your quivering stopped did he withdraw, his eyes twinkling mischievously as he cleaned his glistening chin. 

 

As he swirled his tongue around his lips, savoring the last hints of you, you gazed up at him with heavy-lidded eyes. Your chest still heaved in languid aftershocks of pleasure, your limbs boneless and slack upon the plush cushions.

"Come here," you beckoned hoarsely, crooking a finger. Your body cried out to be filled after such thorough worship, muscles reflexively clenching around nothing inside. 

 

Hawks obeyed without hesitation, crawling up to drape himself over your welcoming form once more. You gripped his shoulders firmly, flipping your positions with a playful show of wiry strength, and smiled down at him wickedly. 

 

Grasping his aching length and rubbing the tip of his cock had him seeing stars. Hawks groaned unabashedly.

Slowly, you let him inside, savoring each velvet glide. Hawks bucked helplessly, claws scrabbling for purchase against the cushions as your sensual walls milked his length.

 

The pleasure you drew from Hawks was exquisite torture. Each roll of your hips sent fresh shockwaves through his twitching member, shattering his composure. He was reduced to begging, his nails scratched weakly at your thighs as you rode him to the brink. 

 

"Please...I need to come," Hawks gasped, moving his hips upward in frantic little thrusts. His cock throbbed painfully with the desperate need for release. 

You smiled down at him cruelly. "Beg for it." Your lips formed the words deliciously slowly, knowing their effect.

Hawks keened, wings fluttering uselessly. "Please let me cum p-please I wanna cum, I need..to please..” 

 

Suddenly, you bore down on him, grinding your pelvis against his in brutal circles. The new angle sent Hawks reaching his high with a raw cry. 

 

You quickly let him pull out as his cock pulsed and thick ropes of seed spilled forth, splattering his taut stomach in pearly ribbons. Hawks shuddered through wave after wave; your continued help milking every last drop from him. 

Breathless and spent, he could only lay pliantly as you leaned down to collect his essence on your fingers. Your wicked tongue flicked out to taste, making Hawks twitch anew in oversensitivity.

 

You smiled softly, your expression gentling as you gazed upon Hawks' flushed, panting form. His chest still heaved mightily in the aftermath of his climax.

 

Reverently, you traced light patterns on his ribs and pecs with delicate fingers, soothing away any last tremors. Hawks hummed appreciatively at your tender touch, grasping one of your hands to press a lingering kiss to the palm. 

 

"Come here, Birdie," you murmured, beckoning him into your open embrace. Hawks complied readily, nuzzling into the crook of your neck with a contented sigh. Your legs tangled together comfortably as his wings folded around you both like a feathery blanket.

No threats of capture or duty rules could penetrate the sanctity of that moment. There, held securely within your arms, Hawks felt at once protected yet free—freed from the shackles of self-doubt and expectation. He belonged, body and soul, to one who accepted him fully without judgment or demand.

 

Drowsiness began to take hold as your rhythmic caresses through soft-down lulled Hawks towards slumber. "Stay?" he mumbled into your skin, his voice blurred by oncoming sleep yet filled with gentle hope. 

You kissed his forehead, followed by a whisper, "I’ll stay, promise." was the sweetest assurance Hawks could wish for.

© yammpi3 2024. All work belongs to @yammpi3. You can repost if you want to support my blog/writing! Please don't modify, translate, or plagiarize in any way on ANY platform.

[lily-sofii]

Hello, sorry if its an inconvenance but i would like to request a... Request, i hope you are feeling well, sorry if im interrupting something m, your the first one i see that accept crk requests

Royal Margarine cookie x witch/sorcerer! Reader. SOMEHOW a cookie get the cookies equivalent of a god to fall for them... The cookie's Royal Margarine cookie, Reader first sawn butter cream as the adorable and strong wyvern she is first though

A/N: I'm trying a new editing style, so please notify me if there are any mistakes or anything wrong! (Also, I forgot that reader was supposed to be a witch, I'm so sorry!)

TW(?): alcohol

Alcohol-induced hallucination

Who cares that Royal Margarine Cookie isn’t a real dragon rider? He doesn’t! Not one bit… right? Right!

Well, it really doesn’t matter, does it? No one knows, and no one ever will! This is a secret he’ll take to the grave. To a glorious, golden grave that’s fit for a hero like him. A glorious end for a life that can't even be called glorious as a joke.

So… why is his mind stuck on you, instead of focusing on the glory and recognition he craves?

Before he met you, his mind was always filled with the need for fame and admiration. Every minute of every hour was spent chasing after the recognition he believed he deserved.

So why isn’t he pursuing it anymore? Why is he stuck chasing after a cookie who doesn’t feel the same way?

Well, that’s probably the reason. You ignore him whenever he’s near you. That’s something new, something that’s never happened before.

It feels like his life has always been filled with women who chase after him without him having to lift a finger. But you? Nothing. No matter how hard he tries to charm you, you don’t even look his way.

It’s that indifference that’s driven him to obsession. He craves your attention. Needs your love. Desires your adoration.

Night after night, he whines to Buttercream about his inability to get you to even notice him. As expected, his beloved wyvern snickers at his plight… well, as much as a wyvern can snicker.

As morning breaks once more, Royal Margarine Cookie makes his way to the square, just like he always does. But he’s not searching for adoration. No. He’s looking for you.

-

He slumps onto a bench with a sigh after hours of failing to find you. Buttercream flaps his wings slightly as he settles on the ground beside the bench.

Royal Margarine looks at the wyvern and scoffs.

“Fine, I failed. Is that what you want to hear? I couldn’t find her! Now, go away. You’re not helping.”

The wyvern tilts its head, flapping its wings before taking off into the sky.

Royal Margarine sighs in defeat, closing his eyes. He’ll look for you after a nap. He’s just so tired. He’ll find you when he wakes up… he swears.

---

His eyes snap open when he hears your voice, exhaustion forgotten. How long has he been asleep? Wait—never mind that! Where is your voice coming from?! He needs to see you!

He sits up quickly, the excitement draining from him just as fast.

His eyes land on his beloved wyvern, Buttercream, sitting on the grass with you standing next to him. Your honey-like voice coos at the wyvern as you rub its head.

Wait, what?!

You’re paying attention to Buttercream?!

That traitor!

He’s getting no belly rubs tonight! … And Royal Margarine Cookie? He’s getting wine. Lots of it. He needs to forget about this betrayal.

He storms off, turning his back on the scene and heading straight for the nearest tavern.

Drink after drink, sip after sip, Royal Margarine tries to drown his sorrows. Glass after glass of wine is placed on the table in front of him, but still, he feels like your voice is just behind him.

“Are… Are you alright?”

There it is. Your voice again.

He groans, laying his head on the wooden table and grabbing another glass of wine, pressing it to his lips. The sweetness fills his mouth, then slides down his throat. It’s almost sad—how the sweet liquid can quench his thirst, but not the ache in his heart.

He narrows his eyes when the chair opposite him creaks. Who dares sit next to him while he's drowning in despair?

Royal Margarine Cookie’s eyes widen when he sees you sitting before him. Is this an alcohol-induced hallucination? It must be. You wouldn’t just… sit next to him.

The wine makes him hiccup as he sits up, spilling some of it on his clothes.

“Ngh… You even haunt me when I drink to forget you.”

He hiccups and furrows his brows, tears welling up in his eyes.

“Why can’t you see I love you?! Any other woman would be lucky to be in your place!”

Royal Margarine Cookie continues sobbing and babbling in his drunken state, unaware that you’re actually real and sitting right in front of him. In his mind, this is just another alcohol-induced hallucination.

Your eyes widen as he sobs and confesses his feelings.

Did the dragon rider himself fall in love with you?

Well, they say alcohol makes you speak the truth.

After a few more minutes of whining, Royal Margarine’s head slips onto the table, soft snores escaping his mouth, accompanied by a string of saliva.

The alcohol has knocked him out cold.

Chances are, he won’t remember his drunken confessions. But you? You’ll remember every word.

[loveesiren]

CONGRATS ON THE FOLLOWERSS YOUR WORKS ARE ALWAYS LOVELY

Can i request one with gdragon for the prompt 'how long has it been since you've slept?'

IM LOOKING FORWARD TO SEEING ALL THE STORIES YOU COME UP WITH. HAVE A LOVELY DAY<3<3

Thank you so much, bb!! <3

Love this prompt cuz I'm great at not sleeping lmfao

Vali's 1500 Celebration

warnings: angst, alcohol

wc: 977

You chewed on your thumbnail, the movie flickering across the screen doing little to distract your restless mind. Another swig of whiskey burned its way down your throat, but you welcomed the sting. Anything to numb the ache that had settled in your chest. Three days. Three fucking days since the fight with Jiyong—and not a single word had passed between you. Not even a pathetic “are you okay?” text.

You were both too damn stubborn. Too full of pride. But none of that changed the fact that you missed him. Needed him. You hated how soft you’d become—how utterly dependent you were on the rhythm of his breathing beside you at night, his fingers absently brushing your skin as sleep took over. Now the bed was cold. Empty.

You didn’t even know where he was. Probably out pretending he was fine. Maybe he was. But you weren’t. You hadn’t slept for more than an hour at a time since he left. You'd wake in a panic, gasping for air, reaching out for something—someone—that wasn’t there. The whiskey helped, a little. It gave you fleeting moments of stillness before dragging you back into the chaos of your own mind.

But still, you didn’t call him. You wouldn’t. You’d convinced yourself you could handle it. You had before he came into your life. Before he spent four years teaching you how to rely on someone. How to let your guard down. How to need.

Now all you knew how to do was ache for him.

“Fuck,” you whispered, pressing a trembling palm to your face. The tears didn’t come anymore. Just the dull pressure behind your eyes, like your body was too tired to cry. Your limbs ached. Your vision blurred. But sleep stayed just out of reach, like it knew you didn’t deserve rest without him.

You curled tighter into yourself, bottle resting in your lap, praying for even just one dreamless hour. One moment where his absence didn’t feel like a scream echoing through your chest.

You lay curled up on the couch, Zoa nestled against your side, her small body rising and falling with each breath. Your fingers moved slowly through her soft gray fur, the repetitive motion keeping you from unraveling completely. This—this dazed, semi-conscious state—was the closest you’d gotten to sleep in days.

You were drifting, somewhere between numbness and exhaustion, when the soft click of the front door pulled you back into reality.

Your body tensed as you pushed yourself upright, heart stammering in your chest.

“Ji?” Your voice cracked from disuse, disbelieving even as you saw him there—standing in the doorway like a ghost returning home. His orange hair was messy, his eyes bloodshot, and his shoulders sagged like he was carrying the weight of the entire world.

He looked at you like he’d found something precious he thought he’d lost forever.

“Jagiya…” he breathed, the word falling from his lips like a prayer. He didn’t hesitate. He crossed the room and dropped to his knees in front of you, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face into your stomach like he needed to feel you just to breathe again.

And that was all it took.

The tears you’d been swallowing for days finally burst free. You fell into him, wrapping your arms around his neck, sobbing into his shoulder like it would drain the ache from your chest. Whatever you were fighting about didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was that he was here.

“I missed you so much,” you choked out between sobs.

“I know, baby. I know,” he whispered, voice thick. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

He held you tighter, one hand soothing through your tangled hair, the other rubbing circles into your back. You felt him kiss the side of your head, over and over, like he was trying to erase every second he hadn’t been there.

“I’m sorry too,” you whimpered. “I didn’t mean any of it. I just—needed you.”

He rocked you gently, trying his best to soothe you.

After a while, your sobs slowed to soft hiccups, and you pulled back just enough to see his face. His thumb brushed the tears from your cheeks, brows drawn in concern as he took you in.

“Aish, jagiya…” he murmured. “How long has it been since you’ve slept?”

You shrugged helplessly, eyes glossy. “I haven’t really slept since you left…”

He winced like your words physically hurt. “Shit. Baby…”

“I can’t sleep without you, Ji…” Your voice was small, barely audible.

“I know. I know,” he murmured, pressing a slow, apologetic kiss to your lips. “I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere, okay? Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

He stood and gently pulled you to your feet, his hoodie drowning your frame. You looked so tired, so fragile—like you might break if he let go of you. He didn’t. His hand stayed warm against your back as he led you into your shared room.

He helped you into bed, tucking the blankets around you like he used to, before crawling in behind you and pulling you flush against his chest. His arms locked around you, his breath soft against the back of your neck.

This. This was home. Tucked into him, wrapped up in his warmth, your fingers finding his as he kissed your shoulder softly, over and over.

“Please don’t ever leave me again…” you whispered.

“I won’t. I promise. I swear.” His voice was solid. Certain.

You felt his fingers gently combing through your hair, working through the knots without pulling. You could feel sleep tugging at you now, slow and warm.

“I love you,” he whispered.

And for the first time in days, you felt your body relax. Let yourself sink into him—into that voice, that touch, that promise. Finally, you gave in, surrendering to a deep, dreamless sleep.

© loveesiren 2025 - do not copy, translate, transfer, or repost my work without my permission. if you find my work on sites other than through links i've provided, please notify me.

[just1cefor4ll]

—You’re the kind of person they write rock songs about

modern!au Viktor x fem!reader

part 8 || epilogue

A/N. sighhhhhh its the end guys :(((( idk if im too happy w this chapter butt i still hope you enjoy!! and im so sorry for the wait ive been busyy

‘You will never walk alone

You can always reach me

You will never ever walk alone’

Months had passed since you and Viktor got together—and it had been worth every second of waiting and ‘dancing around each other.’Your relationship was effortless in all the best ways. He needed you, and you needed him. It was as simple as that. And yet, you still couldn’t quite wrap your head around how you’d ended up with someone like him—someone who, at first glance, never seemed to think about love, yet here he was, utterly and hopelessly in love with you. Just as you were with him.

You both had your moments of realization—those quiet, startling instances when the depth of your feelings hit you all at once. Viktor had his just a few weeks into your relationship. It had been the worst week imaginable for him—exams, assignments, endless experiments. By the end of it, he was completely drained, barely holding himself upright.

When he showed up at your door, you weren’t sure whether to greet him or offer your condolences. He looked exhausted, circles under his eyes darker than usual— if that was even possible, and he looked like his mind was everywhere all at once.

Without hesitation, you stepped aside to let him in. “Yeah, no thinking or touching anything related to school for at least a day,” you said with a soft smile. He didn’t protest, didn’t even try to argue. He just let you pull him into your bed, where you lay together, his weight pressing into you as he let himself rest for the first time in days.

It was in that moment, as you ran your fingers through his hair, that he understood—this was what it meant to have someone. To be cared for without asking. To be loved without condition.

And he never wanted to go without it again.

truly.y/n posted to their story

For you it was how he admired and noticed every single detail about you. It started when he noticed your fidgeting with your guitar strap before shows, the way he held your hand right then and there and kept your overthinking thoughts calm down in just a second. The way he said things you mentioned months back and he still remembered.

“Hey I’m bored and i’d really want to go somewhere..” You said through the phone, a soft huff escaping your lips since you’ve been rotting in bed for the past 3 hours. Viktor reacted almost instantly, your heart skipping a beat— face getting a bit warm. “How about we go get you those new guitar strings? You said you’ve been wanting to get new ones along with a guitar pick and I’m pretty sure you’ve had getting a new vinyl in mind for a while too.” He rambled, making you stutter out a response after staying quiet for longer than needed. “O-oh yeah sure that sounds awesome! Also I—” You’d want to go to that new cat café down to street of the music shop?” You smile, getting up and going towards your closet. “You know me so well.”

“I know, love.” You could definitely hear the smug smile on his face making you chuckle. “Alright then I’ll give you some time to get ready. Be there in an hour?” You nodded, saying your goodbyes before you went into the shower.

Your heart felt warm— full of his love and you couldn’t be happier. In your past relationships you didn’t really bother mentioning your interests since no one ever bothered to remember— but he did..

It was nice being known.

vik.tor222

vik.tor222 my girl 🤍

liked by ishaaq, ekk0stime, j.talis and 42 others

3 commented

truly.y/n 🤍🤍

mmedarda cuties

ishaaq finally our girl is happy omg

Hang outs became more lively— you didn’t have to awkwardly interact or just glance at each other all day. Everything changed for the better and it was just the best your lives have ever been.

You still spent most of your time at the Last drop like you have for years before you even started dating— or you ended up at the venues bar you had just played at and laughed until they had to kick you after closing time.

Tonight, the usual chaos unfolded—Ekko and Powder bickering over some ridiculous bet, Isha sipping her drink and listening to Mel talk, and Viktor sat beside you in the booth, his arm resting lazily behind you. "You two are gross," Powder groaned, watching as you absentmindedly played with Viktor’s fingers. "Like, actually sickening. I miss when you were just pining idiots."

You smirked, tilting your head at Powder. "Oh, we’re disgusting?" You gestured between yourself and Viktor before pointing at her and Ekko. "That’s rich, coming from you two."

Ekko raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Viktor chuckled, catching on immediately. "Ah, yes. I suppose staring at each other like lovesick fools doesn’t count?"

Powder’s face scrunched up. "We do not—"

"You totally do," you cut in, grinning. "And don’t even get me started on how you two kick me out of our dorm room so you can make out."

Ekko smirked, unbothered. "And? At least we don’t subject people to whatever this is." He waved vaguely at you and Viktor, who still had his arm draped behind you.

"Please," you scoffed. "You guys were worse before you got together. At least Viktor and I had some self-control."

Powder rolled her eyes playfully. "Yeah, real subtle. Because begging me to change the setlist and making me play the guitar— which I haven’t in like years— last minute so you can sing Iris to Viktor in stead of just saying ‘Hey! I’m in love with you!’ was totally not doing too much."

You opened your mouth to argue but hesitated. "Okay, fair point."

Viktor just smiled beside you. "I still think it was a lovely confession."

Ekko snickered. "You would."

After a few hours of talking and laughing, you decided to slip away for a bit, stepping out back for a cigarette. The night air was cool against your skin as you sat down on the small, weathered bench—probably older than the bar itself. Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out your pack, but after a few seconds of searching, you sighed.

powpow

powpow love my girls (and my drinking buddy ig)

liked by ekk0stime, truly.y/n, ishaaq, vik.tor222 and 207 others

2 commented

truly.y/n we love YOU!! ❤️

ekk0stime replied stop trynna steal my wife tf

ishaaq replied you mean OUR wife?

vik.tor222

vik.tor222 an angel sent down just for me

liked by truly.y/n, j.talis, mmedarda, powpow and 42 others

4 commented

j.talis credits to us, we sent the angel

ekk0stime replied clapping for me and the band

powpow replied a pat on the back is def deserved

truly.y/n replied kindly stfu

“Shit—”

Before you could finish the thought, Viktor pulled out exactly what you were looking for. He flicked the lighter to life, the small flame casting a glow over his face as he held it up to your cigarette.

“You know,” he said as you took a drag, “this will kill you one day.”

You exhaled slowly, smoke curling between you. “Yeah, yeah. You tell me every time.”

“And yet, you never listen.”

You grinned, nudging his knee with yours. “If I did, I’d be boring.”

Viktor shook his head, but there was no real disapproval in his expression. He just watched you, eyes flickering between your lips and the cigarette before landing on your face.

“You gonna keep staring, or do you want a drag?” you teased, holding it out to him.

He scoffed. “Tempting, but I’d rather not die faster.”

“Suit yourself.” You took another slow inhale, then blew the smoke just enough in his direction to make him roll his eyes.

For a while, you sat in comfortable silence, the distant sounds of the bar filtering through the alley. Then Viktor spoke again, softer this time.

The distant hum of the bar faded into the quiet of the alley, the only sounds between you the occasional drag of your cigarette and the soft scuff of Viktor’s cane against the pavement as he shifted beside you.

For a moment, it seemed like he was content just sitting there, but then he spoke—his voice careful, like he had been thinking about this for a while.

“You know,” he started, “I have.. come to a realization.” You exhaled slowly, glancing at him. “Oh? Do tell.” Viktor rested his forearms on his knees, fingers loosely intertwined. “You and I… we spend a great deal of time together.” You smirked. “Usually how relationships work, yeah.” He nodded, but there was something almost hesitant in the way he continued. “It is not a complaint, I assure you. Rather, I find it interesting.” You took another drag. “Interesting how?”

Viktor turned his head toward you, studying you in that way he always did when he was gathering his thoughts. Then, with the same quiet certainty he always had in moments like this, he said:

“That, despite seeing you nearly every day, it never feels like enough.”

The cigarette nearly slipped from your lips. You blinked at him, caught completely off guard by how blunt that was.

And yet, Viktor looked almost unaffected, as if he hadn’t just casually said something that sent your heart into overdrive.

You cleared your throat, forcing out a chuckle. “So you’re basically saying you’re obsessed with me?” You smirk, thinking you got him right back.

Viktor huffed a small laugh, shaking his head. “If that is how you wish to interpret it.”

You turned more toward him, resting an elbow on the back of the bench. “You are obsessed with me.”

His eyes flicked to yours, something unreadable in his expression. Then, as if accepting the accusation completely, he simply said; “Yes.”

Your breath hitched. No hesitation, no awkward stammering—just the truth, laid bare between you.

He leaned in slightly, dropping his voice just enough to make your pulse stutter. “And you?”

You swallowed. “What about me?”

Viktor tilted his head, gaze steady. “Are you obsessed with me as well?”

You hummed, thinking about it. “Maybe I am.” He chuckled, grabbing your cigarette and throwing it away even after your protests. “Maybe it is then.”

You rolled your eyes, turning to Viktor. "You regret it yet?" He looked at you with a raised brow. “Can’t say I understand, love.” He stated, confused.

“Us? Am I not too much or too little? I don’t know I’ve never been in a healthy relationship before.”

He hummed in thought, tapping his fingers against your upper arm— a habit he developed whenever you had long conversations while his arm was around you. "Hmm. Let’s see.. I get to spend time with you, no longer have to agonize over if you like me, and I get to do this—" He leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before pulling back with a smug grin. "So no, I don’t regret a thing and you are perfect.”

Viktor’s words lingered in the cool night air, settling between you in a way that made your heart skip a beat. You huffed out a soft laugh, shaking your head.

You hummed, still not entirely convinced as you took one last drag before flicking your cigarette away.

Viktor tilted his head, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Not convinced?”

You scoffed, nudging his side. “Bold assumption.”

He just hummed, stepping closer—close enough that you could feel the warmth of him even in the chill of the night. “Not an assumption,” he murmured, reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered just slightly, his touch impossibly gentle. “I’m simply observant.”

Your breath hitched, but you rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way your pulse stuttered. “Alright, genius, if you’re so observant, then you should know that Powder’s probably already looking for us.”

Viktor smirked. “Let her look.”

Before you could respond, he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a way that was both effortless and deliberate, like he’d been waiting for the perfect moment. His hand found your waist, holding you there as he deepened it just slightly—slow, lingering, like he wanted to make sure you felt every second of it.

By the time he pulled away, you were left blinking up at him, lips still tingling from the kiss. Viktor, of course, looked entirely too pleased with himself.

You cleared your throat, ignoring the heat rising to your face. “You’re ridiculous.”

He only chuckled, grabbing your hand and lacing your fingers together. “Mm, and yet, you are still holding my hand.”

You huffed, tugging him toward the bar’s back door. “Come on, obsessed boyfriend. Before Powder drags us back herself.”

Just before stepping inside, he gave your hand a small squeeze, voice light but certain.

“Whatever you say, obsessed girlfriend.”

You groaned, but the warmth in your chest was undeniable. And as the noise of your friends filled the air again, Viktor still at your side, you couldn’t help but think—yeah, you were both absolutely gone for each other.

vik.tor222

vik.tor222 don’t regret a single second spent with her<3

liked by truly.y/n, powpow, ishaaq, losttvi and 27 others

© just1cefor4all— I don’t consent to my writing being reposted to other platforms or fed into AI. Translating it is also strictly prohibited. 🚫

taglist: @erica2024 @lolixsstuff @skullmvncher @startingtoloveyou @astarionapologist @th3stup1dcat @fiveperrcent @fadedpinkpen @noxturnalmoth

[mediumgayitalian]

4 and 19 for the fic writer asks!!!!! <3

4. a story idea you haven’t written yet

uhhh what havent i outlined and left hanging. lol. but i can tell you guys about the OTHER hades & persephone au i came up with??? i come up with a lot of things lol. and you can tell im in a mood. ACTUALLY NO ill share this really heinous and evil fic outline i have immediately post titan war:

- okay. - so. - after the battle of manhattan there were injured. there were their injured, dryad injured, and luke injured. - and the apollo cabin had been whittled down to one. - will was twelve years old. he had the making of a great healer but there was literally only so much his physical body could take — healing annabeth drained the verve from his body; by the time kronos was defeated will had done the same so many more times there was nothing left in his body. and even then he had to find more to give. - but there is a limit. - there comes a point in the days of recovery where will physically cannot move forward. he drops where he is, throwing up the nothing in his stomach, skin blistering. he’s close to death himself. he will recover, but he has nothing left to give. - chiron, as scared as he was at the start of the war, puts him to rest. he has no healers left. he cannot afford to lose this one: his youngest. - will is sick and delirious and GRIEVING, most of all, he is sick with it. every moment awake is spent sobbing, in pain and in misery. he catches chiron’s hand, half-coherent, as he wheels by; “Shrouds. The shrouds, where are the —” - chiron swallows and points him in the direction of a stack of folded fabric. it is white, and worn; light, oft-repaired linen, thin with use. - old bedsheets. - and will heaves. this cannot he how his siblings are sent away. so with the last of his strength and the light from the moon he drags himself off his bed, crawling to the stack; it is rough, and plain, and he imagines his bright, beautiful siblings shroud in it and cries. he can’t.

- but his hands are shaking. and he can’t see straight. and all he can find is a curved needle and sutures, and he does not know what to do. - so he prays. - he curls against the wood of the nurses station and beds hera, the homemaker, and hades, herder of the dead: he asks for strength, and skill, and the gods take pity on him. quietly strings of deep blue light and copper tendrils wrap around will’s arms, around his fingers. he picks up the needle and drags the first shroud off the pile, exhaling, mind numbing, and sews. the tendrils of light glow gentle and cooling, like faucet water, and for hours he sits, and embroiders. his hands move quickly and carefully and by the time the weeping sun rises again in the morning, nine shrouds line up end to end across the creaking wooden floorboards, stretching shining skies of blue, golden swirls of sunlight and clouds in thread as gold as the stars. chiron comes in exhausted himself and has to steady himself: will, half-conscious, fingers pricked and bleeding, work of the gods in his hands. - chiron gathers them. quietly. apollo’s children are wrapped with the utmost care, one after the other: when they are burned it smells of hyacinth, of laurels. will drags himself from his bed and watches from the door of the infirmary, sobbing.

- when the embers cool there is thread, among the coal. gold, like the sun, and black, like the ashes that remained. - later he sits with his friends. and they are complaining about the gods, about hera, who has ruined their lives. and will is quiet. and they ask, and he says, softer than sunrise: i will owe her as long as i live. as will i the lord of the dead. without their strength i would have had no dignity to send my siblings away. - anyways

19. the most interesting topic you’ve researched for a fic

jaunita's bar in nashville. for the road trip fic. it made me cry, actually. i am being so careful to be true to reality that it is kind of slowing my writing process. but thats okay. 

writing ask game

[mooutchi]

Running away from everything. But you.

☆°.[The Legend Of Zelda Last Light :) 1362 words].°☆

"Leave me alone !"

The words rasped out of Link’s throat , sharp and ragged through the cold stillness of the room , fragile with exhaustion as he shoved the window open. The frame slamming hard against the wall. For a moment , he’d mistaken the tapping on the glass for rain. But the rhythm had been wrong. Too deliberate. Unnatural.

"There is no journey anymore ! No way out !!" He shouted at whatever lingering presence taunted him at night. Those bright , flickers of light that always came , always watched. Ghosts ? It didn't matter. His hand hovered over a nearby object , ready to throw it just to silence them , just to force them away.

"It’s over. We’re over..."

The sentence broke before he could finish it. His voice simply gave out. He gripped the edge of the balcony , arms locked , breath tight in his chest. The cold bit at his skin , but he didn’t move. He could’ve blamed the cold for the tremble in his throat , believe the wind was the one to shake him , but he knew better. It was the weight sitting in his ribs. Unable to explain why it cut deeply. So much deeper than anything the weather could do to him.

Was it because his father’s cause was failing ? Because the world they tried to build kept crumbling in his hands ? No matter how carefully they had tried to held onto peace , it always found a way to slip through their fingers.

Or was it because something else was ending ? Something simpler. More personal , harder to name. Maybe the end of his adventure , as short as it had been , wasn’t the only thing that had broken him.

He lowered his gaze toward the gardens below , assuming the silence meant he was finally alone.

"Sheik ?!"

His breath caught. The name ripped from his throat in surprise.

There , in the downpour, stood the silhouette of the last person he expected to see. The Sheikah knight. Drenched to the bone , unmoving. Rain soaked through every layer of his clothes. His brown hair , already darker than the usual Sheikahs' locks , clung to his face , looked nearly black thanks to the storm. And the white scarf around his neck couldn’t possibly offer enough warmth now.

Link stepped away from the window ,wrapping his shawl over his shoulders to bear with the chill. He grabbed a small hand lamp , lighting it carefully , hoping the glow would reach the other man.

"Your Highness..."

The words were soft , barely more than a whisper , not reaching him. Seeing Link lean forward , trying to hear , made Sheik’s heart stumble. He repeated himself , a little louder , grounding his feet to their spot and keep himself from bolting. He shouldn’t have come. Both of them knew that. Not only because the royal's house was forbidden to strangers...but mostly because he was letting down walls he’d spent years reinforcing. Walls that should never lower , and weren’t meant to break. Not even for the kindest heart.

"Link-"

"What are you doing out there ?!" Link’s voice was uncharacteristically sharp , the worry coming too fast , laced with hidden anger. The prince winced at his own tone. But Sheik looked worse than he’d ever seen him. Drained , shivering , pained. It twisted something inside him. "I... I thought you..." The prince faltered...

Sheik hesitated , then suddenly burst out. "Please. Just listen to me..." Link stayed silent. "I didn’t walk away from you. I shouldn’t have said what I did. Im sorry."

Silence.

The quiet that followed nearly made Sheik back away. It settled between them , terrifying him. But he forced himself to stand his ground. His hands clenched into fists at his sides until they stopped shaking.

"I was called to another mission." He continued , voice uneven. Word flowed in a panicked rush. "And then , I tried to find the Triforce. Without you. I thought if I found it on my own , maybe you wouldn’t have to carry more than you already do. I wanted to spare you the fear Link..."

His words came too fast , spilling over like he was running out of time.

"You were always so overwhelmed , and I thought- if I could fix it alone , maybe... maybe you’d have one less burden to carry." He stumbled , his voice cracking with the weight of everything unspoken. "You were already on edge , and I didn’t want to make it worse. I thought...I thought I was helping."

He paused , the storm crying once he was quiet.

"Maybe I was wrong..."

The admission hung between them , heavy. As if he'd just confessed something scandalous.

"What did you even tried to do...?" Link asked , his voice low in incredulity.

"I tried to protect , and fix something." Sheik said quietly. "The kingdom , the mission...you. I thought I could take it on myself." He shook his head , blinking hard. The rain made it easy to pretend it was just because of the weather. "I didn’t want you to lose faith. Not in yourself. Not in what you love.."

His brow creased with something. Heavier than concern , Link’s voice broke through the quiet , softer this time :

"Sheik... come inside. You’re going to get sick out there."

"I’m not done." Sheik murmured.

The rain continued to fall , steady and almost soothing. He looked up again , eyes searching Link’s face through the storm.

"You have great courage , Link... More than I’ve ever seen in anyone. The way you stand in front of everything with your chest bared , even when you're terrified. That... that kind of courage...I can’t even imagine it." His voice shook , not from cold , but from everything he could no longer hold in.

He used to think vulnerability was a plague. It had always felt like a sickness to him. Proof of weakness. A crack in the armor , a wound bleeding freely. But with Link , it didn’t feel like that. It felt natural , like being able to breathe after so much time spent suffocating. A sword with warm edges that didn’t feel sharp anymore.

"Your passion...it terrifies me. I admire it. I wish I had even a fraction of that strength...”

He looked up once more , and for a heartbeat , the world held still.

The lamp light flickered gently , casting a warm , golden glow over Link’s face. It softened him , turning sharp features into something dreamlike. His pyjamas hung loose from sleep , the fabric wrinkled and half falling from one shoulder. His hair usually half-tamed in a bun , was a mess of soft strands. Tousled by restless sleep or maybe the open window. And his eyes... they caught the light like polished gems , alive with something that made Sheik feel the need to moist his dry lips. Sapphire and emerald : honest and open. He hated how open they were.

Or maybe he hated that he wanted to fall into them. Just once. Link looked like peace. Safety. Like something Sheik had spent his entire life running from.

Link was beautiful.

Not in the way nobles and suitor fussed over. But in the way the sky is beautiful : gentle , sometimes sharp , and impossibly far from anything Sheik had ever believed he could deserve. A kind that feels dangerous because it makes you do things you were never supposed to do , only in useless hope for those eyes to lean on you.

And the knight , half frozen under the rain , mud on his boots , uncertainty in his eyes , felt the quiet , devastating realization settle in his chest.

Link had become the thing he was trying to protect himself from. Link scared him more than any monster could have. Link was his own weakness.

The closest thing to heaven Sheik would ever know.

How could something as simple as distance , just a meaningless week apart , cut deeper than any sword driven through his chest ?

"Sheik..." Link sighed , hesitating. "Come on. Get out of the rain. I’ll make some tea."

It wasn’t a command , nor forgiveness. But it was a door left open. An offering toward warmth.

[averycutesalamander]

HELLO my first fic is finally done!!!! im posting some of the intro under the cut, but the whole thing is up on AO3!! (pls dont look at the word count it's really embarrassing)

It’s days like this that make Boothill consider giving up on his hunt.

Well, consider is too strong a word; it’s only ever a passing fancy, a brief flicker of doubt that he discards immediately. He’s a man on a mission, after all, and he’s nothing if not determined. He's proud of his ruthless optimism in the face of adversity; it's kept him going this long. Still, he’s willing to admit that work like his isn’t all sunshine, and certainly has its rainy days – this one definitely included. 

He’s finally on his way home after an exceptionally long and frustrating job, one that seemed engineered to piss him off, one that he failed, and he’s eager to get back to your shared apartment, clean up, recharge, and spend some desperately needed time with you. He’d sent you a message to let you know he was on his way back a few system hours ago, and you’d excitedly responded with a string of emojis so long it filled his entire phone screen. The hour is rather late for you to be up – not terribly late, but enough that he's lucky you're awake.

He’s exhausted and frustrated and filthy and he absolutely reeks; he didn’t have the time to clean up before heading back, and frankly, even if he did, he thinks he might’ve combusted on the spot if he spent another second on that god-forsaken bog of a planet. As he climbs the stairs up to the apartment, he's nearly tempted to collapse on them and pass out for a few hours, but the urge to see you keeps him moving.

“I’m home, sweetpea,” he calls as the door shuts behind him. He retracts the spurs on his ankles and sluggishly wipes his feet on the mat – a habit you’d been sure to instill in him the moment the two of you started living together. (“You always track in so much dirt! And no, just because you technically don't wear boots doesn't mean you don't have to wipe off the mud,” you scolded him. “Maybe I should start making you clean it up.” That straightened him out real quick.) His hat is hung in its designated spot next to your favorite jacket, looking exceptionally out of place considering the grime that coats it.

He slumps against the door, utterly drained, then tilts his head at your lack of response. You’re home and awake, he knows that much; your usual shoes are by the door, and he can hear movement in the kitchen. A tantalizing smell radiates into the entryway, and he’s willing to bet it’s some kind of stew; you always make it on days that you know he’s coming home.

He turns the corner around the kitchen and finds you with your back to him, busy with something on the stove, then sees why you hadn't answered him; you've got your headphones on, moving to a beat he can just barely hear, muttering along to it under your breath. His lips quirk, fondness unfurling in his chest; a little spark of mischief arrives on its coattails, chasing away his exhaustion for the moment. He steps lightly onto the tile, quieter than he needs to be, eyes glimmering. Closer, closer, closer he creeps, until he's towering behind you, just within reach. With a glance, he makes sure you aren't holding anything too important, and then– 

You squeal in surprise as his arms snake around your waist, hauling you back against his chest with unyielding strength. With a mighty squirm, you whip around to identify your attacker, and your face lights up so perfectly that if he wasn't grinning before, he certainly is now. You laugh in delight, rushing to shake off your headphones and shove them onto the counter. The moment your hands are free, you leap against him in earnest, hard enough that he'd stumble if he weren't made of metal. 

You curl your arms tightly around his shoulders, wrapping your legs around his hips in a death grip like you’re trying to crush him, as you always do. His hands slip down beneath your thighs to support you in your efforts, as he always does. 

Either you don't notice how filthy he is (very hard to believe) or you don't care, because you pepper his face with kisses relentlessly. By the time you're done with your assault, he's chuckling, all dazed and giddy, his weariness melting away at your touch. Cupping your hands around his face, you beam at him, eyes shining.

“Hi, honeybee,” you say, a little breathless.

“Hey there, buttercup,” he answers with a squeeze on your thighs. He resists the urge to rub his cheek against yours as he usually does, conscious of the grime that coats him like a second skin. “Did ya miss me that much?”

You scoff and roll your eyes as dramatically as you can manage. “Like you even need to ask. Feels like it’s been forever.” You pinch his cheeks, then laugh as he nips at your fingers. “How was the mission?”

He groans, and he isn't even exaggerating. 

(read more on ao3 !!)

[dropitlikeapeong]

Waiting for You: Chapter 4- It's really over, isn't it?

Genre: EVEN MORE angst (atp we should be used to it)

CW: Mentions of cheating. More arguing. More swearing. More crying. Seeun is an asshole (Im sorry to my serangdoongies). Y/n is mad as hell for a minute (AS THEY SHOULD BE). Implied sexual relations (nothing explicit, literally the words "spent a night together") Seeun hurts Y/n (gripping your wrist tightly). Let me know if there's more that I'm leaving out.

A/n: FINALLY AN UPDATE WE ALL CHEERED! I'd like to apologize again for keeping you all waiting for this long but yay chapter 4 is finally here, and chapter 5 is not too far behind.

I apologize in advance, to all my Seeun stans, this one's gonna hurt.

As always, likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated. Enjoy!

From coming in late to work, upsetting your co-workers and friends, catching a nasty and uncalled for attitude from your ex, accidentally landing one of the boys in the hospital causing him to miss an important schedule, finding out said ex has likely been playing you throughout your whole relationship with another celebrity, also finding out there might be a little more that story since your boss seems to know a lot more than he's letting on and being forced to go to therapy or else you'd lose your job and get sued, safe to say today had been exhausting.

You felt physically and emotionally drained and really just needed to sleep off the events of today. Fortunately you don't have work tomorrow, or any day after that unless you see that stupid therapist.

You definitely felt horrible about what happened with Hunter but therapy? Seriously? But if that's what is needed for you to keep your job, so be it. You wonder if you'd be allowed to visit him, to maybe apologize in person. Hunter always goes on about how you're his favorite out of all their staff, He'd understand you didn't mean for that to happen right?

Your thoughts are interrupted by the elevator beeping, letting you know you've reached your floor. The doors open and you let out an irritated sigh at the unexpected guest standing at your doorstep.

Technically, it isn't unexpected, you were warned that someone would be picking up your ex's things, although he never mentioned who would be doing the pick up. Considering all of the people he could've called, this was just ridiculous.

"Why are you here?"

Seeun jumps a little at your voice turning to face you.

"Don't scare me like that! Gosh, you almost gave me a heart attack."

You continue staring at him blankly while he avoids your eyes, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"Why are you here?" You ask him again.

"You sound like a tape recorder. 'Why are you here' haha, I'm sightseeing, obviously." His laugh is uncomfortable and awkward.

"This is a really nice apartment complex." He remarks, looking around the empty hallway. "I might just move in here someday." Another awkward laugh follows. Then silence.

One thing you know about your ex, is that he is either really horrible at reading the room, joking around when it was time to be serious, or he's really good at playing dumb when he knows he has fucked up. But with the day you've had today, you couldn't care less about which of those he was doing.

"It's very quiet this side of town isn't it?"

"Seeun go home."

You go to unlock your door and he moves out of your way.

"I came to get my things." he mutters, you roll eyes barely sparing him a glance.

"Maybe lead with that? I'm not in the mood for any shit right now." You open your door stepping inside leaving it open for him. He just stands at your doorway, a small pout on his face.

"You won't invite me in?" He laughs giving you a lopsided smile.

A smile that would've had you weak in the knees back then. A smile you would usually return with one of your own. Maybe a little giggle, because it would instantly cause him to start giggling too. A smile you loved seeing at times like these, where you felt like your world was crumbling, as it always made you feel so much better.

A smile that now causes your eyes to start brimming with tears. A smile that makes you feel like your throat is closing up, and causes bile to rise up from your stomach.

A smile that now repulses you.

He shifts uncomfortably at your glare. "Tough crowd I guess." he mumbles stepping inside, closing the door behind him.

"So... Can I start in the bedroom? You took a LOT of my hoodies-"

"Take what you're here for and leave, Seeun."

He huffs at your cold response.

"I'm not here to fight with you, Y/n. There's no need for all of this."

"There wasn't any need for you to be a dick towards me all day, yet that still happened."

"Oh come on, you're still mad about that?" He scoffs.

"You can't keep taking everything so personally Y/n."

He sighs shaking his head.

"Look, I have things to do-"

"-Like Areum?" You cut him off and he freezes at that. You feel his eyes on your back.

He knows that you know. Did he seriously expect you not to find out after both his and her company released public statements? it's quite literally the only thing k-netizens are talking about right now.

Though xikers may not be a really big name in Korea, Areum on the other hand is practically the nation's princess, one of YG Entertainment's top models with an impressive reputation, and several brand ambassadorships under her belt. Already having garnered a large fan base after only one year since her modeling debut, the news of her having a boyfriend would most definitely have her fans going crazy.

You could've liked Areum too at some point. She seemed to be a sweet girl. She was always lovely towards her fans and her staff. Very polite and respectful in front of the cameras. You do not doubt that she was likely even sweeter behind the scenes as well.

Unfortunately, the chance that her and Seeun have likely been seeing each other since your relationship with Seeun started, leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

He clears his throat harshly, an attempt to compose himself.

It seems you've caught him off guard.

"That's none of your business."

Now it's your turn to scoff. He has some nerve. You turn to face him and he has the audacity to look mad at you. As if this was your fault.

"Congrats on that by the way. Although I would've appreciated a little heads up that you've been two-timeing me our whole relationship."

His eyes widen in shock. He opens his mouth to speak but immediately closes it again, his facial expression neutral.

"It wasn't like that." You scoff at his words.

"Could've fooled me."

"Y/n don't." He grits out, avoiding your eyes.

"I really was just a joke to you, wasn't I?"

"For fucks sake it wasn't like that!" His loud voice causes you to flinch.

Throughout your relationship he has never raised his voice at you. Sure he was loud and yelled often, within your vicinity. But he has never yelled at you. He loved you too much for that. Perhaps he still does with how he instantly looks regretful at what he just did.

"Then what was it like Seeun? What you're telling me and the way you're treating doesn't match up. So what am I supposed to believe?"

"It-I-" He exhales deeply hands over his face, clearly at a loss for words. Or at a loss in general.

In this moment he no longer looks at you with a snarky glare, or a cruel smirk. He just looks lost. He looks like the boy you fell in love with again.

It reminds you of the conversation you had with the CEO.

Something about an arrangement.

You take a step closer to him.

"Seeun?" he looks up at you, a nervous look on his face. Like he's scared of something.

That gives you a small glimmer of hope. That this was all that it was, an arrangement for publicity's sake.

But why couldn't he just tell you that? Was a breakup necessary?

"Seeun, what is going on?" You slowly take another step closer, and hold his hand. He lets you.

"Please, just talk to me. What is this arrangement Mr. Kim mentioned?" He looks startled by your question but doesn't pull his hand away.

"It's about you and Areum right?" He doesn't answer you, nor does he pull away from you.

Instead, he pulls your hand towards his lips and plants a small peck on your fingers, mumbling something inaudible.

"What?" He finally looks into your eyes, with a blank expression.

"I liked the date." You stare at him, utterly confused.

"...What?" He gives you a small smile.

"March 22nd. It's a nice date. It's cute... And very believable considering we were at the same event together around that time."

"Seeun that's- no but it-I-" You feel overwhelmed, a bad feeling creeping into the pit of your stomach. They couldn't have picked a different date? One that wasn't yours and his' anniversary?

"Seeun that's ours. It's our date, That's when we started dating, not-"

"I need you to know-" he cuts you off gripping your hand a little tighter, "-after I left last night, I went to Areum's place."

Your feel your heart sink at that.

"We spent the night together and... we're dating now."

You feel nauseated, his tight hold on your hand is now uncomfortable. Why hasn't he let go yet? You try to pull away from him but he only holds on tighter.

"I need you to understand something, Y/n." His grip on your hand, is now painful. He pushes your chin up with a finger, making you look into his eyes.

"What I had with you, is nothing compared to what I have with Areum."

Your eyes are already brimming with tears. You try to move out of his hold but he only pulls you back. A cruel grin on his face.

"You want a reason for why we broke up? Here it is; I don't love you."

The tears slowly roll down your face. He sees them, and laughs.

"Cry all you want, I'm only telling you the truth."

His tone is mocking as you stare up him, with teary eyes and a trembling lip.

You should've never let him in. You should've never allowed him into your home. You should've told him to leave, fetch his things when you weren't at home. You shouldn't have said yes to dating him. You shouldn't have let him into your heart.

"My arrangement with Areum, has nothing to do with you, so stay out of it." He finally let's you go, yanking his hand away from yours, as if he's disgusted by your touch. Your hand now stings from how tight he held it.

"Get that into your head, and never forget it; I do not love you. You're nothing to me."

He leaves you in the living room, heading off to your bedroom to collect his belongings.

"One more thing," It seems he still wants to rub some salt in the wound.

"I don't appreciate you or anyone referring to my relationship with Areum as an 'arrangement'. I don't care who you heard it from, don't ever disrespect my girlfriend like that again."

He heads off into your room closing the door behind him.

You collapse onto your couch and finally break down, heavy sobs escaping you.

You really wish you had just told him to leave...

<previous chapter :: next chapter>

[bullet-prooflove]

Live Stream Part Two: No Prisoners - Nick Amaro x Reader

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Live Stream:

Part One: Camera Shy - Nick is forced to watch you in captivity.

Pain. It was the only thing that was keeping Nick Amaro hanging on while you were in the hands of this monster. Your shrill screams were still ringing in his ears like flashbacks from the cruellest of nightmares. The process has been slow, and your whimpers of agony had stabbed him repeatedly in the heart like a hunter's knife. He was bleeding out inside the same way that you were. He didn't know if you would recover from the hell that you had been exposed to. He’d watched that video as it was live streamed to his entire Squad.

His fingers ran over the indentation that his fist left in the panel of the metal locker. His hand was aching, the skin broken and blood smeared across his white knuckles. There was so much rage burning up deep inside of him, so much anger, so much fury. He had entered the locker room and sat upon the wooden bench preparing himself for the moment that Liv said the word go.

The problem was the silence gave him time to think. Nick had sat here and absorbed every single image he had been privy to. Helplessness didn't cover what he was feeling, he would have given everything for your positions to have been reversed. He would have given his life a thousand times over for you and it had taken until now for him to understand the depth of his feelings.

Nick dropped down onto the bench once more as the adrenaline drained out of him. The truth was he didn't even know if you were alive anymore. There was no proof that you were dead, the stream had been turned off long before they had reached that point but he had seen enough to know if you did come back, you would come back damaged.

Nick let out a frustrated growl into his large hands as he ran them over his exhausted features. He hadn't slept since you had been taken, he couldn't bring himself to close his eyes and see the images that he knew would haunt him in his sleep.

He relived that last night you had spent together. He remembered the texture of your hair underneath his fingers, how tender and soft your lips were as they brushed over his. He had never felt so deserving of someone else before, he had never desired someone so badly. He had wanted you that night, your heart and your soul. Nick had wanted to make you his, he wanted to show you the extent of his feelings but you weren’t ready. You were was barely coming to terms with the chemistry that blazed between the two of you. He had placed his heart in your hands and let you set the pace.

He had lost track of the hours that you had spent exploring one another. Your kisses had been poignant and sweet, Nick had enjoyed the time he had spent, exploring the confines of your mouth. He had spent so much time learning all the little things that made you so special and unique. He loved the way your nose crinkled just a little when he made you laugh. Your eyes were the most expressive that Nick had ever seen, every time he stared into them he felt like he could see right into your soul.

Nick swallowed hard against the lump in his throat, it was an aching mass that restricting his breathing. He found himself getting lost in the darkness once more as the guilt crashed in like a wave washing over his head. He couldn't breathe at the thought that you may not return.

The door to the locker room banged open as Fin swept through, that determined, purposeful look upon his features.

"We've got a location." Fin told him before jerking his head towards the Squad Room.

Nick rose to his feet, his hand coming to rest upon the gun on his hip.

He wouldn’t be taking any prisoners tonight.

Love Nick? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Want to read more Nick? Check out his Masterlist here!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[starker-raving-mads]

For You: Part IX

im so sorry this took so long but everyone can thank @madeforstarker for kicking me in the ass to get it done. Thank you, princess <3

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX

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Peter didn't see Tony for three days.

This was partially his fault. His initial reaction to The Bedroom Incident, as he was calling it, was to flee the entire building, his feet scurrying him to May's apartment early the following morning. He spent a good few hours with his aunt - something he didn't actually regret, though the reason for the new time together soured it a little for him - and when she left for work he left for patrol. It was probably his longest patrol yet, capping off at 6 hours, and while it felt good to stretch his muscles and help the people of Queens, his mind constantly drifted back to The Bedroom Incident.

He couldn't face Tony after that.

And yet he couldn't not.

After weeks of living in the penthouse, it felt like home. It was the only place he felt well and truly free and comfortable, and Tony being there just made it even better. Even with the - awkwardness that now surrounded them, surely they could get over that right? It's not like he'd said Tony's name. Out loud, at least.

So, exhausted and starving, he swung by a 24/7 deli and grabbed two sandwiches. They wouldn't be as good as Mr. Delmar's but Peter was starving so he'd take what he could get. He ate one of them on the walk home in his street wear, taking his time by taking a circuitous route back to Stark Tower. It was just delaying the inevitable but Peter couldn't bring himself to speed up the awkward conversation he was no doubt gonna have once he got home.

And yet, once the elevator doors opened and revealed the penthouse, no one was there.

"Fri?" he called.

"Yes, mom?"

"Where's, uh - where's Tony at?"

"Boss has been dematerialized and operating within the bounds of his cognitive digital space, which I am unable to access. Would you like me to get him for you?" she asked, tone colored with curiosity. Peter had to wonder what she thought of the situation, but also did not want to know. He could only imagine the leaps in logic she would make that would hit too close to home.

He dawdled around the living room for a little while before heading down to the labs, half expecting Tony to be there, blue and glowing and insubstantial but present and, for lack of better words, alive.

This was not the case.

Tony was nowhere in the confines of the lab. Peter sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, slowly making his way toward the elevator. He stopped before he entered it and turned around, speaking aloud, "I, uh, I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I - yeah. I'll be around." He felt like an idiot speaking to an empty room but he wasn't sure what else to do.

He spent the rest of the night in the penthouse doing his online course work in silence. When he went to bed, he had Friday tell Tony just in case he wanted to know where Peter was, and then fell into a very tense and restless sleep.

The following two days were much like the first. Peter woke up, had Friday tell Tony what he was doing or where he was, visited his friends or May, patrolled, and did his online coursework. He'd come home, have Friday update Tony - not that she ever got an affirmative response - and he went to bed. He slept like shit, he felt like shit, and it was really starting to drain him.

On the fourth day, when he'd about lost his patience and his nerve, Tony finally popped into existence in the middle of the living room. It scared the hell out of him but he didn't do much more than look at the older man, dumbfounded and slightly stupefied.

"Tony?"

"Yeah, uh," the simulation ran a hand through his hair, messing it up in an impossibly cute way, "hi."

"Hi," Peter replied, lame as fuck.

They stared at each other in silence, brown eyes meeting blue ones, before Tony finally broke the tension.

"I'msorryforintrudingandseeingyoucum."

It was only Peter's enhanced senses that made the jumble of words make sense and he blushed immediately, grimacing and trying to hide it.

"It - uh, it's okay."

"It's really not, this is your place and I should give you privacy and I didn't and - " Tony paused, looking at Peter again. " - and I really should not know you have a daddy kink, kid."

"Oh god," Peter groaned, grabbing a pillow and shoving it over his face. "You heard that?"

Tony chuckled and it somehow broke the tension in the room despite the topic. "Kinda hard not to when you're all breathy and moaning. Plus," he shrugged, still grinning, "I have this kickass new memory since it all gets stored and fragmented and saved now."

"Please, please let's change topics before I pass out from blood loss," Peter begged. And, suddenly, everything felt right with the world again. This was their thing. Teasing and being teased, having fun and making jokes between all the serious stuff. It felt good, like a breath of fresh air after three very long, very lonely days.

Peter tried not to analyze what that meant for the future of his sex life.

Long and lonely, he sighed.

But, they moved topics like Peter had wanted, only to something he had not really expected.

"You what?" he asked, perplexed.

"I sent Pepper a Cease & Desist," Tony said as if it made any sense at all.

"How? Did you tell her you were - "

"Oh no, no way," the older man shook his head. "I figured neither of us were ready to pop open that can of worms. I sent it through Friday on your behalf - which," he grimaced, "I probably should've asked first, but what's done is done."

"It's fine, I guess, just - why?" That was what Peter couldn't understand. Why would Tony be sending C&Ds to his wife of all people? And on Peter's behalf no less.

"Listen, kid, I fucked up when I made my will - and before you start thinking it was about your part, it wasn't that," he cut Peter off when he saw the protest in his eyes. With a firm glare, he continued, "She had no right doing a lot of the things she did and is still doing. I had plenty of time in the last three days to think about it, analyze data, check on sources - it's amazing what having all that extra time I'd normally be sleeping can do - and I'm very unhappy with her, Pete."

"Just, why?" Peter asked again, feeling like a parrot or an NPC who had no other dialogue.

"She shouldn't have taken your blanket," the older man glared. "And she shouldn't have said what she did in that meeting room, or any of the tactics she's employed since. I know Pepper, kid, like I know the back of my hand," he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand. "That means all the good and the bad. I know that I loved her, or something like that - I must have, to have gotten married and had a kid and everything," he waved his hand like this was not a tremendous thing to be admitting. Might have loved his wife. Oh boy. "But she's taking my decisions out on you and it's not right and it's not fair."

"I don't - "

"If you say you don't mind, kid, I'm gonna figure out a way to kick your ass," Tony swore. "You matter, your persona matters to the public and the shareholders, your favorite things matter even when they're just blankets, and you matter enough to me to be able to see your own god daughter."

"I - thank you," Peter replied softly, curling into the couch with a not-as-cozy blanket draped over him. "I don't know what to say to that."

"Just accept it."

Peter chuckled. "I can do that."

A sweet smile was spread across the space between them, warm and something. After a moment, Peter asked, "So what exactly did your C&D say?"

"The majority of it was just getting her to stop her public and private attacks on you," Tony started. He sat on one of the couch cushions and it was weird seeing it not sink in with his weight. "There was a second petition as well, to get visiting hours with Morgan. I hope, uh," he looked truly nervous here. "I hope you don't mind. I really think you'll love her, Pete." His eyes were earnest as he said this, not really looking for acceptance to an apology that wasn't given. Tony wanted Peter to know his daughter and Peter wanted that too.

"Of course I will," Peter smiled. "She's part you, remember?"

[blondeaxolotl]

ok i can’t stop myself anymore I’ve been watching that one anon interact with you regarding flojami angst and im crawling on the walls im biting my ceiling im all HRHEHFHSJJFJDNSJFJFJDJFHFJSKFJVH YOUR MIND. THEIR MIND. IF YOU REPLY TO THIS PLS TELL FLOJAMI ANGST ANON I LOVE THEY AND OP I LOVE YOU SM TOO!!!!!!

i also. need. to throw in my two cents. i have always believed since the moment i started shipping flojami they will have to break up by the time they graduate it just had to happen. obviously i have constructed elaborate ploys to get them back together post graduation but thats not the point. the point is:

Floyd and Jamil both know that there is so much more at stake for Jamil than for Floyd regarding their relationship. Jamil has never been free and has barely scraped together some semblance of his own life through joining a different club than Kalim and maybe through dating someone else, but — That’s it. That’s all Jamil has. And because Jamil will lose basketball club immediately upon graduation, he’ll assume that’s when he’ll lose Floyd as well.

But — What if Floyd knew? Floyd’s been there for Jamil’s overblot and has gleaned more of Jamil’s personal life than most people Jamil knew. He knew that Jamil was going to go back to Silk City once they graduate, there has never been another option. What if at some point it sunk in for Floyd? What if there was one day when he was just watching Sea Snake as he talked about different ways to cook curry that Floyd realized this wasn’t going to last? What if, even before Jamil consciously considered it, Floyd thought, “Oh.”

Of course. It was going to happen. He knew Jamil’s priorities, what he valued. There was no other way this would go down.

But Floyd wasn’t going to bring it up. Not when Jamil was obviously so pleased when he was with Floyd, not when Jamil obviously didn’t care for anything but being happy when he spent time with him. Not when it looked like Jamil hadn’t realized it yet, what his own mind was going to do to him.

So what if it looked like Floyd knew Jamil better than Jamil himself? Floyd wasn’t going to tell him. Floyd was a selfish being. He was going to take every second he had with Jamil and hoard it. He was going to drag this out for as long as possible, even if he had to drag Jamil back with him.

Sure. It was only a matter of time. Floyd knew that.

But he would be damned if he let it take Jamil away from him before the very last instance.

LMAOO IT'S OKAY ANON feel free to join in on the flojami rambling.. anyone is welcome and feel free to tag yourself with an emoji to make things easier to keep track of hehe

Continuing on OHHHHH FLOYD BEING SELF-AWARE I FEEL IS EVEN MORE INSANE. Like being not aware and suddenly going mad over the fact Jamil is distancing himself from him and either ghosted him or broke up with him without an explanation is already pretty angstful, that has him tweaking and going mad. But something about Floyd being SELF-AWARE that he'll loose Jamil soon before even Jamil himself realised it.. it somewhat hurts even more.

Like you said, Floyd is a selfish being, he's going to keep that thought for himself and hold onto every moment he had with Jamil. But as well, wouldn't that mean he was suffering and mentally exhausting himself more because he IS aware Jamil won't be with him for much long, he is aware that he's losing him and he is literally draining himself with that thought. And what if, the more aware he is, the more and more attached he gets to Jamil, and the more he doesn't want him to leave him alone, at all.

A little personal headcanon of mine that I have for Floyd which will make this situation worse, but I believe Floyd is someone who doesn't like talking about when he's hurting. He will help the ones he loves, but he will suppress his own hurt and refuse to show it to anyone (Like I doubt even Jade knows much about it) because he doesn't want to appear "weak" or "vulnerable" to them, and if he does, it wasn't on purpose, that's for sure.

Now back to Floyd being self-aware of the situation with that headcanon of mine in mind, would that mean Floyd will tell Jamil he knew this was going to happen? No, of course not, that would reveal he was sad about this for who knows how long and that itself will upset Jamil because he wasn't aware of it, because Floyd refused to tell him. Floyd doesn't want to upset Jamil more while already knowing he will be upset because of the fact they will split up after graduation. So of course, he will take his feelings to the grave with him, while wishing his ex boyfriend farewell.

But wait, there's more. Because Floyd is suppressing his emotions while Jamil is breaking up with him before graduation, Jamil would immediately notice Floyd isn't as resistant as he thought he would be. In fact it almost feels like Floyd is letting him go without any issue, just a simple "Aw, that's a shame, I'll miss you Sea Snake" and that's it. And that'd make Jamil start spiraling, because he'd figure Floyd WOULDN'T want him to go, usually when Floyd doesn't want to do something, he'd refuse it and you weren't able to do anything about it. So Jamil is surprised, he was expecting a stubborn Floyd refusing to separate. Which is the thing he WANTED, he WANTED to know Floyd doesn't want to leave him just as much as HE didn't want to leave Floyd... But instead, he got Floyd accepting the break up and wishing Jamil farewell with no issue, no struggle, no refusal.

Which now makes Jamil think: was Floyd only dating him for fun? Or did he just lose interest in him that quickly? Either way it makes Jamil spiral, believing that Floyd didn't genuinely love him or care about him, and was only dating him because the idea was fun. Therefore making Jamil feel like he's the only one who's actually hurting, and is now regretting the idea of ever being in love or having the thought that he could've been. Guess you could say he was right from the start, can't trust anyone from Octavinelle.

Anyways! I think that's enough! I might've had too much fun writing this but I hope you enjoy!

[cainightfics]

instead of answering all the asks individually, im just going to address the main question in one post...

where have i been? am i coming back?

tldr: 1) lots of places 2) yes

to answer in greater detail, it rly all begins with the night i made the horrible decision to hit submit on my application to grad school: december 15 2022. now i would not say grad school in itself has been horrible. my last life update in 2023 i was super broke and not doing well-- since then ive gotten scholarships, funding, and job opportunities, so contrary to most people's experience with grad school ive actually appreciated a (mostly) very financially stable existence here. i am just, to put it bluntly, tired. over the past 2 years, due to both my education and the general state of the world, ive had very little will to write fic. ive spent much of my time producing academic work or writing fiction elsewhere. i burned out bad writing my graduating honours thesis in 2023 and have been bombarded with similarly draining long term projects since. i became a semi-notable scholar in my micro-field and have been at conferences all around the world, on projects funded by the government, teaching classes etc but im ready for it to be over. im glad to have had the experience, but when i graduate in a couple months, i won't miss the mental exhaustion. im the type of person that values my freedom too much for all that.

aside from that, ive had 10 jobs in the last 2 years and been doing tons of random shit lol. i learned pretty early on into grad school that despite my success here, academia is really not my thing, so to deal with my disillusionment i started just doing whatever the fuck on weekends. why am i disillusioned? because there is systemic rot that becomes increasingly ridiculous and hypocritical the further up you get, most things you do are either pointless or happen on such a slow timeline they are rendered pointless through the slog, and because it's basically a pyramid scheme.

beyond the structural issues, a lot of people here are... kind of dumb. or maybe not dumb, but disappointing. i haven't made any friends here. that's definitely partially my fault, but also, i just don't find a lot of these people super inspiring or interesting or fun. i think im kind of the crazy person of my program lol. as some of you may know from my previous ask replies i have a very pessimistic and doomer mentality... and something about the insularity and toxic optimism of many ppl in academia bothers me. also you know when you can tell someone has never had the formative experience of working in customer service and being screamed at, assaulted, or threatened by a customer? and so without that formative experience they are annoyingly fresh and naive and innocent and nervous about everything and haven't been beaten down by life in a way that's made them more chill and empathetic? imagine that but it's every person in the room because you are at an elite school known for nepotism and everyone there grew up rich. yeah.

so onto the random shit ive been doing. ill just include the highlights

- found and raised a baby raven

- lived in the woods and survived off shoplifting and fishing for a portion of the winter

- became a cowboy for a bit

- harvested weed for two days, never got paid

- also randomly worked on a pirate ship for like 4 hrs

- went to mexico with 100usd

- went to nyc and visited e corp and elliots house and realized for myself how much elliots commute in-show doesn't make sense lol

- got a job at a maid cafe bc i thought it would be funny and they guilted me into working there for a full month

- very nearly got arrested while trying to ride the rails, had to hide in a cold metal rail car for 2 hrs in the middle of nowhere while i was literally hunted down

- for a while got very into the idea of becoming a hermit and living in a cave (may still revisit this in some way)

those are kind of the highlights! and the whole time i was plagued by the thought that i needed to go back to ao3 and finish what i started....

on a serious note, ive realized over the past 2 years that im not really built for a stable life. its not that i look down on it per say, i just can't do it. im incompatible with the life we are "supposed" to live according to the current cultural hegemony. what i enjoy is reading for fun, writing for fun, exploring, investigating, solving puzzles. when i feel stifled and overwhelmed, i can't focus on that. i do think the experience of grad school has helped me grow, but the development is almost negative-- that was my shot at taking a normal trajectory, or at trying to find validation and solace in a traditional setting. i realized the feedback and sort of affective dialectic of interacting with you, of writing and having my work read by an audience who shares the same interests as me, is far more fulfilling than what ive been doing. im really looking into trying to pursue a life where i can be somewhat self sufficient and have lots of time (and not just time, mental energy!!) for creative stuff. i have become increasingly pessimistic about our collective future and about The State Of Things, but at the same time, ive found existential freedom in giving up on the life everyone tells me i should be living

so anyways. if u feel inclined, i'd like to know what you've been up to as well!!