#sunday answers ˎˊ˗

[sacredswords]

hiii ummmm what is it like being a legendary chosen like can a legendary just choose a chosen???? what does it entail????

~ @zacianwalker

⚔️ Basiiiccaalllyy? Um, the others are of better help than I am— A legendary chooses you as their "patron" and you're able to get powers from it. Well, supposed to—

Well! It entails quite a bit!~ Like now I'm pretty fast. Was always stunning, though~

But watch out! You don't get a say in it! For all you know, your life could be ruined within mere seconds! Everything you had? All gone!~ ✨

I help out around the region. Mostly fighting. I was granted super strength because I’m usually doing physical work so this makes it easier

IM LIKE. basically. A SUPERHERO NOW!!!!!!! WHICH IS REAL COOL!!!!

[ariichive]

ESCAPE -ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

did you really believe it would be that easy to slip away?

cw: gender neutral, yandere, manipulation, wars, violence, possessive behavior, delusional behavior, reader tries to jump in the dreamscape, suggestive, anaxa uses a ball gag :,) 3.1 spoilers in mydei's

sunday `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

something wasn’t right. the extreme sense of deja vu was sickening and it felt as if eyes were on you at all times. the dreamscape was supposed to be a place of comfort and warmth, but all you felt now was anxiety.

of course, your dreams weren’t always like this. the planet of festivities was a guilty pleasure, admittedly. the vast opportunities of the dreamscape was hard to past on.

but now, you needed to wake up.

it didn’t help that there was no one else in your dream, no one but the head of the oak family.

“i think you look most beautiful like this, no? for my eyes only.”

you could hear his voice, but you couldn’t see him.

no matter what corner you turned, no matter what stairs you went up, it was all the same.

why couldn’t you wake up?

“see how you’re living in repeat? how everything is dreading on, nothing new in your dull life?”

you stopped your running, a pounding headache coming on. “g-get out of my head!” it was so frustrating, hearing the same thing over and over.

“i’m not in your head my dear.” there was a sharp intake of silence before you felt a breath on your ear.

“i’m here with you.”

turning around, there was no one there. faintly, you could hear the gentle sound of his laughter, on increasing your headache.

tired of the constant annoyance that was sunday, you decided to take matters into your own hands.

finding the nearest building, one that was high enough, you were quick to ascend its stairs. eventually, you found yourself on the edge of a roof.

“what do you think you’re doing?”

there was a hint of worry in his voice concealed by anger, one you would’ve missed if you hadn’t known sunday for the time you have.

“if you’re not going to let me out, i have to do it on my own.”

his former amusement was no longer present. "you think that's the way out?"

you didn't answer. the wind howled around you, tugging at your clothes, tempting you forward.

"you're being dramatic."

"and you're being insufferable," you snapped, gripping your arms. the weight of his unseen presence bore down on you, making it hard to breathe. "let me wake up."

a pause. then, softly, "i can't."

your stomach dropped faster than you were about to. "what do you mean you can't?"

"i mean exactly that." his voice was closer now, nearly right beside you. "this isn't just a dream anymore."

"i mean exactly that." his voice was closer now, nearly right beside you. "this isn't just a dream anymore."

the world tilted. no, that wasn't right—the dreamscape itself twisted, colors bleeding into each other, buildings warping, the sky cracking like shattered glass.

"what did you do?" you whispered, taking a shaky step back.

a hand, unseen yet unmistakably there, pressed against the small of your back, keeping you from retreating further. sunday's voice curled into your ear, almost tender.

"i simply made sure you'd stay."

your breath hitched. the weight of his words settled over you like a heavy fog, thick and suffocating. "stay?" the word barely left your lips, a fragile whisper against the growing distortion of the dreamscape.

"mm," sunday hummed, the warmth of his unseen touch lingering, a stark contrast to the cold panic flooding your veins. "isn’t that what you wanted? a place where you could escape, where no one could reach you?"

you shook your head, gripping your temples as the headache intensified. "not like this. never like this."

without hesitating any further, you took a step off the roof.

the wind howled in your ears, your stomach lurching as the world blurred around you. the descent was faster than you expected, the colors of the dreamscape smearing together, twisting, unraveling. but the impact never came.

instead, you stopped.

suspended. weightless. trapped.

a pair of arms, unseen yet unmistakably present, wrapped around you from behind, halting your fall as effortlessly as if you had never moved at all. a familiar chuckle ghosted against your ear, low and amused.

"you really thought i'd let you go that easily?" sunday’s voice was steady, but there was something else underneath—something strained.

you thrashed against the hold, but it was useless. the dreamscape rippled around you like a living thing, reshaping itself at his will. the city, the rooftops, the endless stairs—gone. in their place, an expanse of nothingness stretched in all directions, endless and suffocating.

"let me go," you gritted out.

"where would you even go?" sunday murmured, tightening his hold. "there's nowhere else to run, my dear."

the weight of his words settled deep into your bones. this wasn’t just control—this was possession.

"wake me up!" you screamed, twisting in his grasp, trying to break free.

sunday sighed, and for the first time, you swore you could hear something like regret in his voice.

"i told you already," he murmured. "this isn’t a dream anymore. this is your reality.”

anaxa `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

“i must say, we get a long much better when you don’t interrupt me.”

anaxa was an asshole.

that was the only thing you could think as you couldn’t get any words out due to the ball gag currently strapped to your face.

“wouldn’t you agree, [name]?”

his voice was smooth, laced with that ever-present condescension, as if he were merely discussing philosophy over tea rather than reveling in your current predicament. his golden eyes gleamed with amusement, watching you struggle with something between fascination and boredom.

"ah, but i suppose you can't," he continued, tilting his head ever so slightly. "a shame, really. i do enjoy our little debates. but lately, you've been so very insistent on talking back, especially on matters you know nothing about.”

he leaned in, fingers ghosting over your cheek, his touch featherlight but deliberate. "and we simply can't have that, now can we?"

his smile was sharp, predatory. "good conversation requires patience, listening, knowing when to hold one's tongue." he chuckled, tapping a finger against the gag. "though in your case, i had to take matters into my own hands. don't take it personally."

he used one hand to tightly grip your chin, forcing you to look up at him. his finger that was still on the gag pushed it deeper down your throat.

he sighed, “astounding that you were trying to leave me. now look at you, pathetic.”

anaxa’s irritation and anger was clear in his voice.

“you’re lucky i’m patient with you, the gag and restraints should make me seem like a saint.”

he gently tapped the hilt of his gun.

this whole situation was taken out of proportion. you simply wanted to go visit okhema, see people outside of the grove. of course, anaxa didn’t like that.

“you really think the world outside our little haven holds something better for you?” he drawled, his tone laced with contempt. “okhema isn’t some paradise you can just wander into. it’s a chaotic place where nothing is as controlled, as perfect, as we have it here.”

he seemed to take mercy on you as he undid the strap of the gag, taking it out of your mouth delicately.

“you may speak now.”

you almost didn’t want to out of pure spite. “you can’t keep me here forever, it’s inhumane.”

he laughed at that, “what scholar do you know that’s even remotely close to being humane?”

“none because you don’t let me speak to any one else!”

“good answer.” he sent you an approving smile.

he went to undo your restraints, knowing that you won’t try to fight him any more than you already have.

his fingers traced over the red indentations left by the restraints, a slow, deliberate motion that felt more like admiration than remorse. "tch," he clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "see what you've done to yourself? all this struggling, all this nonsense about leaving, and for what?"

his gaze flicked back up to yours, sharp, assessing. "okhema won’t embrace you like i do. it won’t be kind to you. it won’t understand you." his voice dipped lower, softer, as if he were confiding in you rather than reinforcing his dominance. "but you already know that, don’t you?"

he let go of your wrist, allowing your hand to fall limply into your lap. the relief of movement was fleeting; your body ached, stiff from the restraints, throat dry from the gag. but he watched you expectantly, waiting, reveling in the sight of you thinking carefully before you spoke.

good. he'd taught you something, at least.

"i don’t belong to you," you murmured, voice hoarse but steady.

anaxa stilled. then, in a slow, calculated movement, he leaned in, his breath ghosting over your cheek. "no," he murmured, his gloved fingers curling beneath your chin once more, tilting your face upward. "but you don’t belong to them either."

his lips quirked into something almost affectionate, almost. "and that, my dear, is the difference between us. you keep chasing something that doesn’t exist. i, on the other hand"—his grip tightened ever so slightly—"know exactly what’s mine."

mydei `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

it's been too quiet in the fallen kingdom of castrum kremnos.

mydei's decision to fight off the black tide creatures and strife was to come with unrelenting battles and no time for rest. which it has, but the black tide never ceased. it never tired, never strategized. it was relentless in its hunger, mindless in its destruction. so why had it stopped?

his sculpted body lifted from his throne; if it didn't come to him, he'd just have to find it. he focused his attention on his surroundings, listening to anything that could give a clue.

in the distance, there was a faint sound of screaming and footsteps.

someone else was here?

mydei wasted no time to rush to the sounds.

the air was thick with the scent of old blood and decay, yet something new lurked beneath it—an unfamiliar presence, something that did not belong to the black tide.

rounding a shattered archway, mydei caught sight of movement ahead. a figure darted through the crumbling streets, their breath ragged, their cloak tattered from what must have been a long, desperate flight. behind them, the shadows twisted, writhing unnaturally, as if something unseen slithered just beyond his sight.

he was quick to make eye contact with the person, who looked more shocked than him to see another person.

they were too focused on you rather than mydei, which made defeating them rather easy and efficient.

you collapsed as mydei finished off the remaining monsters, tired from the constant running and trying to catch your breath.

"you look like you've never run a day in your life," he remarked, stepping closer.

before you could fire back, he reached out, grasping your wrist and hoisting you up without waiting for permission. your legs wobbled beneath you, exhaustion threatening to pull you down again, but mydei kept you steady.

"who are you? what kind of fool willingly comes here?" he asked, golden eyes studying you with the same sharpness he reserved for threats.

you gritted your teeth, trying to shake off the dizziness that had settled in your head. the last thing you needed was to seem weak in front of this insufferable man, but the endless running had worn you down to the bone. still, you managed to meet his gaze, your voice rough but steady.

"i'm from a distant town in amphoreus. i came to conduct research on my paper... i just didn't think it would be this bad."

mydei scoffed, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “research,” he echoed, as if the word itself was a joke. “you risked your life for research?”

his grip loosened, and you stumbled slightly but caught yourself. your body ached, but your pride refused to let you falter.

“i didn’t think i’d be running for my life the second i arrived,” you muttered, brushing dust from your tattered clothes. “the black tide’s aggression was… beyond what the records described.”

“of course it was,” mydei said flatly. “any book written about castrum kremnos is outdated the moment it’s finished. this place is a graveyard that keeps changing its shape.”

"you seem to know a lot about this place. who exactly are you?" now, it was your turn to do the questioning.

mydei tilted his head slightly, amusement flickering behind his golden eyes. "you're bold for someone who was just gasping for breath on the ground."

you crossed your arms, ignoring the lingering ache in your limbs. "and you're avoiding the question."

he let out a quiet chuckle, though there was no warmth in it. "fine," he said, stepping back just enough to put a measured distance between you. "mydeimos. i’ve been fighting the black tide longer than you’ve been writing that little paper of yours."

his eyes flicked toward the ruined horizon, scanning the shifting shadows with the ease of someone who knew this battlefield all too well. “this kingdom—what’s left of it—was mine once.”

your breath hitched. his?

the two of you began to learn more about each other as he brought you back to his throne. it was an unexpected friendship(?) but you were gaining many useful facts for your paper.

the history of this place goes further back than you could imagine.

you even learned more about the famous chrysos heirs you heard about in passing. you eagerly had him tell all his stories about them, making sure not to miss a detail.

it went on like this for a few days; he would fight off the black tide and answer your many questions.

there was a shift, though, when he came back from a battle to you packing your notes.

mydei paused in the doorway, his eyes narrowing as he watched you gather your things. the usual calm demeanor he carried in battle seemed absent now, replaced with something colder, more intense.

"you're leaving," he said flatly, his voice carrying a trace of something you couldn’t quite place—was it annoyance?

you froze, your hands stilling mid-motion as you turned to face him. "i—" you started, but the words felt tangled in your throat.

"i’m almost finished with my research," you admitted, avoiding his gaze as you zipped up your bag. "i can’t stay here forever, especially with the black tide still lingering."

truthfully, mydei had grown quite attached to you. he hasn't had contact with another person for weeks before you came along; and for you to just leave so quickly?

no, he couldn't have that.

he muttered, almost to himself, his voice lowering as he looked away, briefly losing his composure. “no one... no one’s cared to come this far. you...” he paused, and when his eyes met yours again, they were heavy with something you hadn’t expected. “you’re not leaving.”

you took a step back, your breath shaky as mydei’s intense stare bore into you.

“mydei—” you started, but the words faltered on your lips. you wanted to argue, to tell him that you had your own life to get back to, your own reasons for leaving. but the weight of his presence—his intensity—made you hesitate.

he stepped forward, his hand snaking out to grab your wrist with an iron grip, pulling you closer to him in a way that left no room for resistance. "you're not walking out on me," he said, his voice low, almost a growl.

“you came into my life at the worst possible time,” he said, his voice softer, yet thick with something you couldn’t quite name. "you walked into this kingdom, into my mess, and for a second, it felt like... like maybe i wasn’t as alone as i thought."

you realized the black tide was already getting to him, just not in the way it would most.

phainon `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

"you look absolutely gorgeous in the sun. though, i wonder, must you enjoy it without me?"

this was your third day walking out from phainon's grasp.

"why do you insist on following me?" you asked, keeping your voice steady as you continued walking, pretending as though his words hadn’t made your heart skip a beat.

you felt the weight of his gaze, the way it traced every curve of your form, making your skin tingle, making you feel seen in a way you hadn’t wanted.

phainon chuckled, the sound low and dark, a perfect match for the man he was. "follow you? darling, you belong to me. whether you like it or not."

he caught up with you quickly, his long strides making up for the distance you’d put between you. before you knew it, he was beside you, his presence as commanding as the sun itself.

"you think you can leave me so easily?" his voice was a whisper, just enough to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. you could feel his eyes on you, even though you refused to meet his gaze.

when you didn't answer, he took it as his sign to continue. "i do enjoy your confidence. you're just so perfect. you must like the chase as much as i. is that what it is, [name]?"

phainon placed a hand over his heart as he felt his face flush.

you felt a flicker of anger surge through you, though it quickly turned to frustration. "this isn't a game," you said, trying to bite back the heat in your voice. "you don’t get to decide what i do, phainon."

phainon’s hand placed itself over his chest again, but this time, it wasn’t just for show. his fingers curled against the fabric, almost as though he was holding back something deeper. "i feel it every time you try to leave me. every step you take away from me."

his voice dropped, smooth and low, like a promise or a threat. "and the more you try to run, the more I want to keep you close."

"you're insane." you couldn't hold back the venom in your voice.

"i'd like to think of it more as being in love." phainon's hand gently took yours, holding you in place.

he kneeled in front of you, bringing your hand to his lips.

his lips lingered on your skin, tracing along the tips of your fingers, sending a shiver through you that you couldn’t ignore. "so go ahead," he whispered, leaning in close, his breath brushing against your hand. "run again. i’ll let you. but just know... i’ll find you."

phainon rose to his feet, still holding your hand gently but firmly, his grip a reminder of the inescapable pull that seemed to draw you to him. "you don't have to make this harder than it needs to be," he murmured, the teasing edge gone from his tone, replaced by something more serious. "i just want you to understand... i will never let you go."

phainon was quick to shift his personality back to easygoing. "you've been out here long enough; care to join me for a bath?"

you knew there was no changing his mind. "...could we get something to eat after?"

phainon’s smile widened, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes as if he had already won some unspoken victory. "of course," he said smoothly. "i can even bathe and feed you. you must be tired after such a long day."

the familiar blush crept up his face, one he didn't care to hide. just the thought of being able to touch your body and be that close to your lips was exhilarating.

i loved writing mydei's, i might have to make another scenario with it 🤔🤔

[etfrin]

⤷❝Mine To Love | Coriolanus Snow❞ˎˊ-

⇢☾Warning: NSFW | Snow is his own warning, mentions of killing, mentions of caging/locking you up (doesn't do it though), hair pulling, breath play if you squint, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), pinv sex, blowjob, male masterbation, cunnilingus, mating press, mentions of Lucy Gray, no spoilers | lmk if I forgot anything!

⇢☾Pairing: young president Snow x fem! Reader

⇢☾Summary: Snow realizing his feelings for you, being fucked up about it and fucks you!

⇢☾A/N: don't romanticize, it's dark romance so y'all are warned! This is set in the same au as The Study (you don't have to read it beforehand but it's recommended)

< masterlist > < bc: @cafekitsune > <tag list>

It started slowly, so slow that Snow didn't even realize it. It started with that night in the study after he had you. He didn't touch you again, denying himself of you. You, his wife, a little bird stuck in a cage. The First Lady of Panem was nothing but a doll, a showcase piece for the country.

You played the role well enough, but you weren't a doll at all. You brought life in what was otherwise a stone-cold mannor. The workers cook your favorite, making sure you're the most well-accommodated. Like a Queen. How their shoulders relax and the smile that springs up when they do the tasks that you assigned them. You earned their respect and their loyalty.

You were dangerous yet harmless. It baffled Coriolanus to no end. It started slow. He coincidentally met you in the hallways more and more. After that night, you couldn't make eye contact with him, no longer did you greet him with an awkward hello or a shy smile.

You look down at the floor whenever he passes you by, your body flushing from the mere second of proximity. So obvious and adorable. He loved how easy you were to read, how open you were. Whatever your lips hide, your eyes show. Whatever your soul hides, your body shows.

It started slow. The monthly dinners with the First Lady turned weekly. Every Sunday now he had you sit across him for dinner and he would ask you about your day. Just to be polite, mind you, don't look into it. He would be annoyed by those one-word answers but would never show it. His fingers subtly grasped the glass of wine tighter than he should, his heart pricking his brain into paranoia. ‘What else?’ he wanted to ask, ‘Stop saying it was good. Tell me what made it good.’

Instead of uttering those words, cameras were placed on every inch of the manner with the audio functions so everything is recorded for his and only his view. He watched you walking through the library, your fingertips touching the spines of the books you already read (which was most of them), you didn't even realize new books were added to the collection, all similar to the ones you liked. He watched you stroll the gardens, your face in a frown at the neverending white roses. A red rose and several other flowers were added the next day.

It started slow. He began to talk about his day more and more trying to fill a silence. He started asking for your opinion and oh, how that lighted your eyes up that you were finally doing what you were meant to do. Supporting him not as a doll but as a wife. You begin to talk about your days more, trusting him with your day-to-day activities. You tell him about friends and family, something he wasn't interested in (he has files on every single person you mentioned).

The nights that were dedicated to his needed sleep turned into the witching hours in which he would stroke his cock over the memory of you. His mouth biting into the pillow to stop his groans, hearing them would mean admitting his need for you and he rejected that notion. His cock was oversensitive because he couldn't stop. He couldn't stop fucking into his fist, again and again thinking about you. Not just your pussy but you. Your desperate moans, your lips marking his neck, your slick walls, and everything of you. Your tears, your head on his chest when he had fucked you. Everything.

He wanted to pin you against a wall. He wanted to bend over during dinner. He wanted you on his lap in his study. He wanted to push you to the bed and fuck you until the bed breaks. He wanted you!

The realization made him spill onto his bed sheets for the nth time. A gasp escaped his lips as he realized how deeply you are rooted in him now. He needed to kill you. He can't afford this again. Whatever this is. Obsession? Love? Was there ever a difference? He needed this to end.

‘You don't deserve to be loved,’ he thinks, you were no Lucy Gray after all, you were different. You could never compare to his first and only (not anymore) love. But he had caged you, he had you and knew your every move. The rumors that spread of cheating were seized along with the man who flirted with you. True to your words, you hadn't fallen to the temptations of the Capitol, rejecting their offers politely rather than basking in their attention like before.

‘Good,’ he thought, he had killed everyone who had touched you and it was hard to hide the evidence. “I am so much better than her,” he muttered, “I could do so much better.” He asked himself, ‘Why? After all the promises I made to myself of never repeating the mistake.’

He didn't get a reply but he dreamt of you.

Breakfast had passed, lunch too, he hadn't seen you once today. A quick peek at his monitors showed that you were sleeping in your room. He clenched his jaw, a part of him hating you for sleeping in because it deprived him of seeing you. A part of his heart warmed because your hair was a mess, the shirt you were wearing while sleeping was his, and you looked so darn pretty.

Coriolanus convinced himself that he was going to your room to wake you up. Nobody should sleep this late into the day. It wasn't healthy, and he needed the First Lady to remain healthy. That was all.

He stepped into the room, his footsteps quiet so he didn't alert you. He sits down on the bed, your sleeping figure beside him. Your mouth had dried drool on the corners which made him disgusted but amusement all the same. His hand went to your cheek, he couldn't control the action of his thumb stroking your cheek.

“I should lock you up forever,” he whispered as softly as possible, almost inaudible. “In this room, so no one can see you but me.”

He knew by now his thoughts weren't normal and it would never be. That's him and he had accepted himself. He leaned in closer, his lips inches away from yours. He stopped right before he closed the gap. He takes a deep breath, taking in your scent before pulling back.

His hand goes to your shoulder, he shakes you. “Wake up, bird,” he said, his eyes softening when he saw you wake up and peer at him with confused eyes. You yawn, and sit up, your eyes wide when you look at him. You rub them with your hand and blink.

“Is there anything wrong, Coryo?” You asked softly, “Anything I can do to help.” “You should shower and eat first,” he said instead, “and next time don't sleep in. I don't like indiscipline.”

“Sorry,” you mutter, “I was finishing a book.” Your eyes flicker to him, “It's nice by the way! I will tell you about it during dinner.” He wanted to hear about it now, he wanted to pull you closer and kiss your lips, he wanted to push you into the mattress and breed you. He wanted to clean you up after and feed you every kind of feed.

He clenched his jaw, trying to get rid of such thoughts. “We'll see,” he said before walking out of the room, accidentally slamming the door. The first sign of Snow losing control.

The second sign of Coriolanus losing control was how his breath hitched when he saw you during dinner. You are wearing yet another one of his shirts (how do you even get your hands on them) and that's it. A white shirt that reached your knees, you had forgone pants and opted for shorts that couldn't even be seen. Your legs were in complete view, the same legs he wanted wrapped around his waist.

He didn't say a single comment even when it was clear you were waiting for one. ‘Were you trying to seduce him?’ he thinks, ‘Or something else.’ He felt paranoid about you wearing his shirt. Did you want him? Want him to bend you over, press your face onto the table and fuck you like you were an animal?

He felt his pants getting tighter from his thoughts, flashes of what he could do to you, what he had done to you. He couldn't focus as you talked during dinner, he made a mental note to watch the cameras later to know the words you had blessed him with.

It hits him like a wave when dinner ends and you come to him with a book. Tabs were spilling out and it was a hardcover of an old classic that he had to read during the academy.

“You once told me that you liked this book, I spent last night annotating it! I did a few finishing touches before dinner…”

That explains your attire, you were busy formatting this gift for him. He took the book from your hand, he wanted to throw it across the room, he wanted to set it on fire. It was now his most precious treasure, more important than Panem itself.

The truth he denied washes over him. Making him take a sharp breath and your eyebrows etch together in concern. He had once a girl dedicate songs for him, now he had a wife dedicating booms for him. ‘It would be a mistake,’ he told himself, ‘It won't be a mistake if I don't repeat the past.’

The desires he shoved at the back of his mind sprang forward and he made a decision. The third sign of Coriolanus surrendering to himself was that he had everyone including the guards leave the dining room. Making your eyes widen from the sudden instruction.

“Is there anything wrong-” you begin to ask before Snow interrupts you. “Here is what's going to happen now. You're gonna be on your knees, you'll take my cock in your mouth and you'll make me cum. Then I will take you to our room and I'll fuck you until you can't remember your name.”

You blink once, twice just staring into his eyes that revealed nothing before you went closer to him and got down on your knees for him. “Like this?” You asked, breathless, your cheeks flushed. He smirked, “Exactly like this, pet.”

“Now part those pretty lips for me,” he said as he unzipped his pants and set his hard cock free. He lets out a chuckle as he sees you eyeing his cock like a long-lost lover. Guess he wasn't the only one thinking about that time.

You part your mouth wide enough for him as he pushes his cock in slowly. No matter how desperate he was a gentleman for his wife. He knew better than to gag you. He stopped when his cock had completely disappeared, his length engulfed into your wet, hot mouth.

He throws back his head as his dick hits the back of your throat. He relishes the sound of your choking around his length. He lets out his groan, trying his hardest not to cum down your throat so soon. His hand is in your hair, keeping you in place like an obedient pet.

You try your best to take in a deep breath as your tongue swirls around his length as much as possible. You weren't the best at blowjobs, but you knew the sloppier the better. Saliva ran down your cheek as you tried your best to focus on his cock underside, your tongue dragging itself across a pulsing vein that reached his cockhead.

You moan around his length as the taste of pre-cum bursts in your mouth. You close your eyes and try your best, bopping your head up and down. You clenched your fist, trying your best not to gag when his cock gets deeper into your throat.

Meanwhile, Snow was a wreck of a man, the heat of your mouth ruining his capability of having coherent thoughts. You were sucking his soul through his dick it seemed to him. His fingers tangled in your locks, gripping your hair tighter as a way to anchor himself to reality.

His blue eyes dilated to almost black as he looks at you taking his cock so well. Like you were made for it. Made for his cock. Made for him. Meant to be his wife, his bird, his pet, and his love. It's destiny, he decided as he pulls you off his cock and uses his suit sleeves to wipe your mouth and chin.

‘Everything leads to this,’ he thought, as he pulled you onto his lap and pressed a kiss to your lips. The saltiness of his taste in your mouth does not deter his tongue from tasting you.

“Go to my- our room,” he whispered to you as he broke the kiss. “I'll be there soon,” he promises as he nuzzles into your neck, his lips kissing your skin. You nod and get off his lap. Your feet drag you into his room.

Meanwhile, Coriolanus takes a deep breath, trying to maintain whatever pathetic excuse of sanity he had held. It didn't work. His cock was hard enough to hurt and his brain made him think. He thinks of removing you, he thinks of keeping you. He thinks of plans to protect you, backup plans to make sure you remain untouched while still maintaining the image of the First Lady. His true possessiveness and obsession flares up in his mind.

‘It won't be a mistake if I don't repeat the past,’ he told himself, repeating that line to his head.

He takes a deep breath, a glance at the cameras shows workers and guards kept the halls clear and you were in his room and on his bed waiting for him. Waiting for him to ravish you as you kept playing with the buttons of the shirt, and your underwear on the floor. Your face was crimson but your lower lip was in a darker shade of red with how much you bitten it because of nervousness.

He lets out a huff of air before adjusting himself accordingly. Coriolanus Snow was many things, gentlemen included and gentlemen don't keep their ladies waiting.

You freeze as he enters the room. You swallow nervously, your fingers pausing on the shirt button you were playing with. He glances at the panties that were on the floor and he gives you a little smirk. “Take it all off, my wife,” he said as his hands worked to undress him. His suit was on the floor, his shirt joining it soon enough.

You have to press your thighs together as you see his skin again, a whimper escaping your lips at the sight. He was so beautiful, craved by the angels, breathed to life by the devil. Soon, his pants and boxers were getting ridden off.

You check him out, your gaze hungry. Your fingers shake with desire as you take off your (his) shirt. You let it fall, exposing yourself completely to him, like he did for you. His eyes rack you up, causing a flush to every visible inch of your skin.

“Open your legs,” he said, as he walked closer and got down on his knees for you. “I am hungry,” he said, while his lips pressed to your knee and his lustful eyes bewitched you. You had to bite your tongue to not let a moan from his mere words. You spread your legs wide, letting your cunt come into his view.

Your folds that were glistening with your arousal and your slit which was the cause of your juices fluttered around nothing from his gaze. “Exquisite,” he had whispered, the praise warming you up and making your pussy clench harder. “Eager too,” he chuckles, looking up at you but you refuse to meet his gaze.

“Have your meal,” you mumbled, embarrassed. He pressed a wet kiss to your inner thigh, making your breath hitch from the contact. A sharp moan escapes when he bites, his teeth digging into the flesh and your hand falls onto his hair. Your fingers grip the blonde locks but you don't try to push him away. Your legs tried to close around him, but his hands made sure to keep them spread as he liked it.

He pulled away, admiring the mark before he pressed another wet kiss to it. His fingers grip your thighs, they hold tight enough to leave marks too.

He takes in a deep breath, nuzzling into your thigh. Your primal scent makes him go wild, his nail digging into your skin as he brings his lips closer to your pussy. One swipe of his tongue onto your folds and he groans louder than you have ever heard him to do so.

“You taste like fucking candy,” he lets out, as his nose bumps into your clit, his tongue messily swirling around your folds, gathering as much of your juices as possible. Your legs were all on his shoulders now as he all but pressed his face, burying himself in your cunt. He takes in a deep breath through his mouth before he begins to ravish you properly.

His mouth taking in your entire pussy and sucking it with such devotion it made you see stars. He laps at your pussy, his tongue never stopping to devour you. You pulled him even closer, your thighs closing around his head. The action only made him. You couldn't see it, but his eyes rolled back from the lack of air and your taste that quickly became his favorite.

His teeth pulled at the outer lips of your pussy, making you cry out and gush more juices. He licks it all up. Before his attention goes to your little bud, his mouth kisses it at first. Then he takes your clit into his mouth to suck without any mercy.

It makes you cry out, the soles of your feet digging into his back as your hips begin to rut against his face. You have no control over your actions. You were gripping his hair so tight you were afraid that you tore away a few strands. Overwhelming pleasure attacked all of your senses as he didn't stop his merciless actions.

You arch your back, your lips moaning his name as heat begins to gather in your body. You cry out, “Close! Coryo! Fuck!” Pleads begin to leave your mouth as your hips grind faster, your clit nudged his nose as his tongue is now inside your walls, fucking you with his tongue.

Your eyes widen, and you let out a silent scream when his teeth nip your swollen clit. You lay on the bed, panting as your pussy cums on his face. Your arousal makes a mess on his face which makes you even more slick when he pulls back and gets on top of you.

You looked into his eyes, his cold blue eyes that were nearly black now. He was panting, both of your breaths mixing into the air. With whatever senses you have left, you use your palm to clean up some of the mess on his face.

As soon as you finish up, he holds your hand. His mouth on your palm with broad strokes of his tongue he licks the remaining of your juices clean. “Can't let it go to waste, my bird,” he whispered to you as he leaned down. His body caging yours or were you caging him down with your legs around his waist? He pressed a kiss to your cheek. Sweet and gentle, and so unlike him but you don't dare question his affections. May it be sweet or savory, you accept it with your arms wide open.

“Want you,” you whispered to him. “You'll have me when I see fit,” he replied, his mouth pressing open-mouthed kisses to your neck before they reached the flesh of your breasts. One of his hands squeezed your breast and his thumb rubbed circles on your nipple. His lips paid attention to the underside of it, licking the skin around the round flesh before his teeth sank in making you gasp. He sucks harshly, his hold on your breast getting rougher as he forms the mark on your skin. When he's assured that a hickey will be formed, his lips pull back and he presses a kiss to the mark.

“You're mine,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your skin before he takes a nipple into his mouth and sucks just as harshly as before. You moan, “Yours, Snow!” Your hands on his shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh. His fingers play and squeeze your other breast while he continues to suck your bud. Your cunt despite having a previous earthsharing orgasm begins to pulse with need. You whimper, “Corio, please!”

Coryo pulls away, his eyebrows etched in annoyance, as much as he likes to hear you beg, he would rather focus on his task of marking you up. He leans up and presses his lips to you. You moan into his mouth as you taste yourself on his tongue. Your fingers tangling themselves into his curls bringing him even closer to you. He breaks the kiss, “I'll teach you to be obedient later, my pet.”

You let out a whimper when he pressed a hard kiss against your lips. His hands travel down to your hips. “Get ready,” he whispered to you, “I meant my words.” I'll fuck you until you can't remember your name. Remembering his earlier words, you whine loudly, “Please!”

His hand grips your hip tightly as his other hand holds his hard cock and guides it to your entrance. Just to be a little tease, he swipes his mushroom tip all over your cunt, his cockhead bumping your swollen clit making you arch your back and your nails dig into his flesh harder, making him moan as well.

He finally pressed his tip into your slit, his cock gliding in smoothly because of how wet you were. He groans as his dick gets sucked into warmth. His head is between the space of your shoulder. He was panting, his hot breath hitting your skin as he pushed in inch by inch. Your hands are on his back, your legs around his waist as you encourage him to go deeper into you with your soft moans.

His teeth sink into your neck to stop a groan, as his cock reaches your deepest spot. While your nails drag themselves across his back to create red lines. Both of you finding ways to anchor yourself to reality, to not go insane with the pleasure you find in each other.

“Move,” you plead, “Please, Coryo, need you to fuck me. Need you!” Snow decided to have mercy on you both, his hips began to move shallowly, and he refused to completely pull back. He refused the concept of depriving his dick of your sweet, wet pussy. “Faster,” you beg, his deep thrust hits at your every spot, some you didn't even know existed. It fried at your senses, your mind going haywire, your body getting desperate for another release.

“No,” he barks near your ear, his mouth biting your earlobe before he begins to kiss your jaw and then to your collarbone. His lips suck purple and blue bruises on your skin while his hips grind into you. Making you go dizzy and insane with how his cockhead kept grazing your g-spot.

“Please, please,” you babble, “You're fucking me so good, Coryo! I can't take it, please! Fuck me harder, love!” His hips had stopped moving as he heard your words. His head leaned up to you, his lips brushing against yours as he whispered, “What did you say?”

You looked straight into his eyes, not hiding the love you had for him, letting it flow through your words and your body. “Love,” you whispered, your lips pressing a delicate kiss that could shatter everything you had built with Snow. “I love you,” you whispered. One of your hands moves to his cheek, caressing him. “You don't have to do anything in return, just know that I love you.” You smile at him, knowing it's more likely that he won't ever return your feelings.

You prepared yourself for a harsh rejection but instead, his hips begin to move again. Harder, faster than before, his cockhead kissing your cervix with his thrusts, his fingers digging into your hips marking it. You won't be able to walk later but that didn't matter.

What mattered was how perfect Coriolanus had begun to fuck you. No, it wasn't a fuck. This was something more. Something changed with your confession, something changed and will remain changed for the rest of both of your lives.

One of his hands reached upward, his fingers snaking around your throat. He pressed it in, not enough to block your breathing but enough to make you lightheaded. Your pussy which was already tight, clenched around him further making him groan right against your ear.

“Lover indeed,” he whispered, his words that you nearly missed, your heart understood what he meant. You gasp, “Kiss me.” You knew that even without him saying those words, he could love you all the same.

Snow complies, his lips clashing with yours. His hips rutting into you as his hands guide your legs into the mating press position, making you cry out into the kiss as his cock reaches even deeper than before causing a small bump into your stomach that neither of you notices.

The kiss got open-mouthed, desperate with how his tongue tangled with yours. It was filth filled with the pathetic, insanity of love you both felt for each other. His thrusts got faster, and sloppier as he was close to his end. Your cunt pulsating around his length as you too were close to shattering again.

What it took for both of you to reach the end was him breaking the kiss to whisper, “I should kill you. I should kill you for making me a lovesick fool again.”

The words even when you know can mean your doom makes you cum like nothing else. Your lips cry out as your walls begin to milk his cock for what it's worth. He groans into your mouth, letting himself feel your fluttering cunt before he thrusts into you once, twice, and finds his release. His cock spilling into you, his cum painting your insides white, marking you.

He pulls out, his back covered with scratches, his curls clinging to his forehead and his lips swollen from the kisses. You looked just as much of a mess as he did, with marks all over your body.

He thinks to himself as he lies beside you. He wasn't going to kill you now. Not in ten years or fifty but your end would only be when he decides.

He loves you after all, in his twisted way.

tags : @stelleduarte @nowitsmissing @lifeonawhim @le-lena @justacaliforniandreamer

[heedthetenofwands]

ghost x (lowkey unhinged) sunshine f!reader

suggestive nsfw (but non-explicit)

His girl was the sweetest thing. Smile as bright as the sun and you looked at him like he’d hung the stars and the moon. Coming home to you was always the highlight of his day.

But something was amiss ever since a week ago.

He had come back from base, a day of planning for the next mission and cleaning up from the last, and his heart yearned to be at home with you. Stepping through the front door, he was ready to hear his bird chirping his name and telling him about the day. But the house was silent, the lights were off, and he couldn’t hear a thing.

He waited a moment before calling out your name. It was only when he walked up the stairs to the bedroom that he saw you sitting on the edge of the bed. Your back was to the door.

“Love?” He called to you. You turned your head back to see him before standing up and making your way around the bed to smile and greet him. You hug him tightly, a bit firmer than usual and he had to brace his core a little in surprise. You let go and look at him with an innocent smile.

“Did you have a good day?” You asked.

“It was OK, better now.” He replies. You continue staring at him, almost in contemplation and, without blinking, kiss his cheek and move out of the room.

Alarms bells are ringing.

˚₊‧꒰ა . ——— ˗ˏˋ ✮ ˎˊ˗ ——— ˖ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

"There's something wrong." He confesses to them at drinks after work a couple days later. "She's angry."

"Your bonnie? She doesnae seem ta have a malicious bone in 'er. I'm sure it'll pass." Soap says.

Ghost grunts dismissively. "Never been this long."

Gaz hums in thought, "Did you forget a date?"

Ghost stays quiet but Gaz doesn't miss the confused stare. He clarifies, "Birds care about 'em. 1st anniversary, birthdays, the milestones. Can fall through the cracks if you're not careful though."

Ghost replies, "Maybe." In his mind, he's already running his fingers through their calendar.

Price cuts through, "Why not just ask 'er?" Straight to the point, as Ghost expected.

He leans back, "Rather not." Ghost knows he's hiding the real answer. What do I do if I can't fix it?

Price looks at him, assesses him and sees right through him. But before he can press further, Ghost hears his phone buzz. He pulls it out of his pocket and after reading the message from you, grumbles a quiet 'fuck' that draws the attention of his team. They lean over to catch a glimpse of the message.

The screen showed previous conversations between the lieutenant and his girl, you sending him your texts with smiley faces, hearts or emoticons with every message. That is, until your latest one which read:

Love: pick up bread on your way home.

The team winced at the cold tone.

"Good luck, mate."

"Warning ya, bakery closes earlier than usual today."

"You're fucked."

Ghost glares at them all before standing up and leaving.

˚₊‧꒰ა . ——— ˗ˏˋ ✮ ˎˊ˗ ——— ˖ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The rest of the week had followed similarly with you just not acting like you're usual self.

That Friday it was your turn to pick a film to watch, where you would usually put on a cheesy rom-com or a tense-filled drama, that night it was a R18 horror movie. Ghost did not utter a single complaint when you put it on. Or move an inch when you lay your head on his chest and smiled at a scene where a cheating husband and his mistress get sliced in two.

Where you two would usually stay in bed together to bask the warm glow of a slow Sunday morning, instead, Simon woke alone. He called your phone again and again until you came home a couple hours later. You ignored his questions. Fearing the worst, he let it go.

And the bite of your finger nails into his skin got stronger and stronger every night as you two lay in bed. It was as is if you were clutching or branding onto him with all your might.

It was later that week, that Simon decided to was time to ask. Time to confront the dissonance that was ringing louder and louder in his ears whenever you touched him, looked at him and smiled at him.

He was going to do it. Right after dinner, he was going to do it.

˚₊‧꒰ა . ——— ˗ˏˋ ✮ ˎˊ˗ ——— ˖ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Ghost, in fact, did nothing after dinner because as soon as you had gathered up the plates. You had returned with a cake.

You brought it to the table. “I know how much you love my desserts, Si. It's been forever since I've made one so I thought I would make your favourite today." You sit down before adding, "I've changed it up a bit, too. New ingredient and whatever.”

Ghost stills at that. “What’s the ingredient, darling?” He says as casually, as he could. Cyanide? Arsenic?

You smile sweetly at him, “It’s a surprise Si, where’s the fun in knowing before tasting it?”

“Right.” He replies, hesitantly.

You start cutting a slice, and place it on his plate before sitting down and waiting for him.

He takes the fork. "You're not hungry, love?"

You shake your head, "I want to see your reaction."

There's a moment where Ghost is trying to remember the poison hotline contact number so he could ring it after his 'taste test' but he finally breaks.

“Nope, can’t do this anymore.” He says.

“Can’t do what, Simon?” You asked with faux concern. You stand up and come to his side of the table to face him. “What’s wrong, baby? You're going to love it.”

“Did I forget an anniversary? Your birthday?” He thought aloud. He doubted it, but he must have done something wrong. He reaches for your arms and gently pulls you to stand in front of him, he holds your hands and bows his head before you. “Tell me love, have I been neglecting you? Spending too much time at work? You can tell me.”

You gently remove your hands from his hold, moving one hand to cup his cheek and the other to tilt his chin so he could meet your gaze. At first, he leans into the gentle palm of your hand but the cold look in your eye with that small smile of your lips makes him freeze.

“Don’t bullshit me, Riley.” Your voice cuts through the candlelit room. He has to fight to not let this do something to him. It gets worse when you use both of your hands to cup his jaw and force his head upwards to meet your gaze. “I found a second phone when I was sorting the laundry. There was a message from another woman. Asking if you would be coming over that night. What a greedy fucker you are.” He has to fight any sound that may escape from his lips at seeing you speak so harsh. “You listen to me, Simon.” His eyes widen as you close the distance of your face to his and your lips are so close. He wants to kiss you. “I will fucking kill her.”

Ghost had no idea what was happening, mind moving too fast and too slow all at once. All he could do was focus on his sweetheart's voice. You stand upright, move closer to Ghost, forcing him to spread his thighs so you can stand between them and press his face to your form, stroking the back of his head, his shoulders, his back as if to soothe and comfort. “I am yours. You made it so. And now, you are mine too."

He can't help the chills running down his spine as he laid his head against your body and felt the presses of your touch. You tell him, “All you need to do is give me her name and where I can find her. And after tonight, we can forget all about this, my love. If you work hard enough, I will forgive you. And in time, I will ask you what deficit I had to make you think you can replace me."

You sigh, "I gave you all week to confess, but you have no shame do you?"

Finally, Ghost's mind seems to catch up, "Wait, wait, sweetheart I don't have a second phone." At that, you tighten the hand in his hair, grabbing a good chunk of the back of his head. He whines at the sensation, "I swear, love." But you do not yield.

His mind is racing.

A second phone?

And finally, he realises. "Sweetheart, wait. It's Johnny's. He mentioned that he lost his phone, the idiot must've dropped in my gym bag. That's why you found it."

Your body stills. "Are you sure, Si?"

While you stay still, Ghost only wraps his arms around you, nestling his face against the warmth of your body and your hesitance. He pleads, "On my life. Call him, darling. Please."

˚₊‧꒰ა . ——— ˗ˏˋ ✮ ˎˊ˗ ——— ˖ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

A phone call later, you confirm that Soap indeed dropped his phone, and was seeing the woman you saw in the notifactions. With a sinking feeling, you return to the kitchen table.

"Si, I'm so sorry." You tell him, tears already brimming your water line. "I should've just asked you-" Before you can say another word, Ghost had already stood up and embraced you. You sink against him.

You should have never doubted a starving dog.

Ghost smiles as he releases you from his hold, "You still want dessert?" He looks back at the cake.

You only giggle, "Yes, let's eat. Not that one though." You ignore Ghost's questioning gaze as you walk to the fridge, humming a small tune, and then pull out another identitical cake. You set it on the table, smiling innocently as the blood drains from Ghost's face. "Let's eat, Si."

[shotmrmiller]

I'm your only situationship.

A/N : yall i stayed up til 324 am writing this. I felt like if i went to bed still only having it as a thought and not on 'paper' thats unacceptable. If i gotta think about this then so do yall! it was also supposed to be a small one shot but it got wildly out of hand im not sorry.

18+ MDNI

TW: typical smut, EXPLICIT mmkay im talkin clutch ur pearls explicit.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Simon had finally come home from a grueling 6-month mission. All he wanted was some Kentucky bourbon with you at your favorite seedy bar. 

Once he was home, Simon cleaned up, put on a black clinical mask, and sent a text to you to meet him there. As he finished his first glass of the night, a rather attractive young woman approached him, asking if she could buy him a drink. 

“Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around, lovie?”

“Not at all. This is after all the 21st century. I’m simply asking— wouldn’t want any missus at home getting upset.”

“There’s no one at home for me, lass.”

“Well then, how about you get yourself another glass, my treat, and we’ll see where this night takes us?” 

He slightly nodded —he’d never say no to a free drink— and as she left to order a drink, he took his phone out to text you again.

“C’mon, pet. I’ll cover the tab. Too good f’me, now?”

His phone vibrated a minute later.

“I can’t today, Si.”

“Why not? I know you don’t go out on Sundays.”

As the young woman came back, drinks in hand, he lifted the screen to read your response.

“I’ve got a dick appointment~ It’s been a year and then some and I’m gonna claw at my walls if I don’t get a fix ASAP.”

Simon goes tense— soft blues hardening to a silver and he’s gripping his phone so hard it might crack. He pulls up your contact and calls you within seconds.

“Hiya, Si!” 

“What the fuck is a dick appointment?”

“Oh,” you giggle. “I forget you older folk don’t know ‘bout that. It’s just a one-night fling. No commitments or nothin'.’ Exactly what I need right now.” You don’t tell him that the reason you’ve practically regrown your hymen is that when you’re best friends with Simon, every other male in existence pales in comparison. 

“Anyway Si-, he’s getting here in like an hour-”

“No.” And hangs up. 

The young woman who’s casually rubbing his bicep and shoulder gets practically flung off of him, as he gets up off the bar stool so fast it’s falling back with a loud clang, and he’s yanking his leather jacket on and pulling on his leather gloves so hard they’re about to become fingerless—

“Hey! I thought you didn’t have a girlfriend?!”

One gloved hand gripping the front door, he turns his head slightly to her and says, “Pet, with how good I’m gonna fuck her, she won’t even have to ask to know she’s mine.”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

You’re standing in the bathroom with your liquid eyeliner in one hand and phone in the other, staring at the ended call screen. ‘Weird,’ you think, then shrug and put the phone down. ‘Maybe the call got dropped.’

You finally complete the look with your false lashes when there’s a very hard knock on your door. You frown as you look at your phone screen. ‘7:14 pm’. You know the guy said at 8 and you’re in one of Simon’s big shirts he always forgets and your hair is still tied up in an oversized pink and white polka dot scrunchie— The pink leopard print booty shorts you’ve got on will suffice. 

The second time there’s a knock it’s even louder. 

“Jesus Christ, I’m coming!” 

You open the door and say, “I’m sorry I took so long, I—”

Simon flies past you, with a rough shoulder bump and you turn to look at him and he’s almost sprinting to the bedroom, slamming the door open—

“Simon, what the fuck? What’re you doin—”

“Where is he?”, he snarls.

“Who?! Are you talking about my date? He’s not getting here til 8! And why’re you slamming doors in my apartment like you pay my rent?!”

You see Simon deflate immediately at the important part of your answer and chooses to ignore the rest as he takes off his jacket and walks to your hall closet to hang it. Closing your door and locking it, you growl out,

“You need to leave. I haven’t even finished getting ready. I promise I’ll—”

“No, pet.”

“Will you quit interrupting me! Simon, I swear—”

“Pet.” 

You’re holding a scream behind your teeth, about to rip the hair out of your scalp when you see Simon take one loop of his mask off from around his ear and then the other. You gape. You’ve seen Simon without his mask— that isn’t the reason you can no longer find your voice. It’s the way he put his gloved middle finger in between his teeth and pulled it off so sensually. You can feel your cheeks and ears radiate heat from just seeing the tip of his pink tongue. Christ, you’re down horrendously.

You open your mouth to say something, anything, to distract yourself from the fact that you’re getting wet over an interaction so chaste when Simon is touching your ass, giving it a hard squeeze, before moving down to the back of your thighs and lifting you up. You startle at the movement and throw your arms around his neck out of habit, hoping he won’t drop you in the move to your bedroom.

He presses you against the wall with his hips, then grabs both of your ankles from behind his lower back and hooks the back of your knees over his forearms. Simon noses your jaw and starts grinding his clothed erection deliciously hard over the definitely wet spot on your shorts and growls out, 

“If you think,” grind “that I’m gonna allow My,” grind “Girl,”  grind—and you whimper in his ear,  “get fucked by some little cock two pump chump,” he gives a forced chuckle, “you must be daft, pet. Or maybe you’re doing it on purpose, eh? Trying to get my attention? Well, you’ve got it now. “ 

He moves his face to hover his lips over yours— you can lightly smell the bourbon he drank earlier— and he whispers, “You ever like this and I’m around, you come to me. And if I’m away, you wait for me like a good girl and when I come back I’ll give this,” he taps your pussy over your shorts, “greedy little cunt all the cock it can take.”

With a shaky breath, you nod before he kisses you, his bourbon-flavored tongue curling against yours, and you’re moaning into it because you’ve wanted this for too long and he’s finally touching you. Curling your fingers into his ash-brown hair, you move your mouth to his neck, to the right of his adam’s apple, took a bit of skin between your teeth and sucked. 

Simon hisses, dips his fingertips into your flesh hard enough to bruise, and all but yanks you off the wall to toss you onto your bed. 

You yelp as you bounce from the force of his throw— you’re still bouncing on the bed when Simon grabs the waistband of your shorts and knickers to pull right off, which you’re grateful for because the grey knickers you got on aren’t what anyone would wear for a first, second nor third impression.

Simon grabs both of the back of your knees with one hand,  goddamn bear paws, you think, before you feel his tongue in between your lips— so warm and wet and fuck, you needed this, needed him— and he flicks his tongue up and down on your clit. He sticks his long middle finger into you and it goes in without resistance, you’re slippery, drooling over his wrist and finger that’s curled up into the rough patch of nerves against your gummy walls, that he’s pressing into, over and over. God you’re about to come, your legs shake in his one-handed hold and you’ve got a white knuckle grip on the forearm you’re sinking your nails into—

Simon pulls away. You were so close, your eyes start watering because he can’t possibly be this mean to you but then you see him shove his tongue in between his middle and ring finger, eating up your nectar when he says, “The first time I’m gonna make you come, it’ll be on my cock. I want to see the frothy white cream you're gonna leave at the base.” 

You’re nodding hysterically at this point, anything for him to make you come, anything for him.  With a twirl of his index, he’s telling you to get on all fours. Scrambling, you turn over and arch your back— resting your head on your forearms— and you feel his calloused palms run down from your spine to your ass cheeks before he gives it a spank. 

“You have a condom?” 

You shake your head and you mewl out, “No, but I’m clean.”

“Good. I don’t want anything between us.”

You arch your back further, pressing your ass further into his hips when you hear his belt buckle clank and zipper open. Simon brings his palm to your other cheek, reddening it. 

“Fuckin’ hell, pet. Look at you spread out for me.” 

You feel warm velvet over steel over your slit before he slowly pushes inside, not all the way but about a little over half of his length, remembering that your g-spot is a little closer to the front. Fast, relatively shallow thrusts hitting your spot with almost clinical precision have you reeling, your orgasm about to break you, mind and body. Hands tightening painfully, you shatter— loud, high-pitched whines, ringing in your ears and pussy pulsing around Simon’s thick girth— and god, Simon doesn’t stop thrusting. He keeps the same smooth rhythm and you’d think he’s unaffected by the tight vice your pussy has him in— but you hear him, low, deep groans and a tighter grip on your hips telling you otherwise. 

He pulls out to bend over your back, completely covering it, and he murmurs in your ear, “I hope you didn’t think we were done. My girl wanted a fuckin’, now she’s gonna get it.” 

He takes off your pink, silly scrunchy and you see it around his tattooed wrist before he grabs your hair into a makeshift ponytail and is leaning back up and forcing your back to arch under his pull. You feel his leg at the height of your hips— propped up, foot flat on the bed and knee bent and the other straight on the floor and all you can think of is how this man is gonna kill you with his cock. 

Simon snaps his hips forward, fist full of hair pulling back,  stretching and filling in one strong thrust, bottoming out. He gives you no reprieve, no time to get used to how fucking deep he is, and sets an intense, firm pace that has you feeling a pinch below the navel every time his hip bones slap against your ass, balls to the clit and you love it. Every pinch in your lower belly has your pussy making a squelching sound and you can’t help yourself— you reach underneath your body to feel how split open you are with two fingers, encasing his cock and feeling the skin drag with them as he pulls out.

That has him hissing air between his teeth, he’s about to come but doesn't want it to be over so he pulls out, and opens your cheeks to spit in your furled hole, before pressing in with the pad of his thumb, and you’re almost screaming. He moves back a bit further to spit in your pussy, not that you need it— you’re drenching the sheets underneath you— and now he’s spearing you with his tongue before curling it, getting your juices pooled on it before coming back up, lips smacking, and he grabs your hair in his ponytail and now he uses his other hand to curls his fingers and palm over the front of your throat and that's all it takes for your vision to darken and arms go limp but he’s again, fucking you through your orgasm and this time you leave a creamy white ring at the base of his length. 

“Oh, fuckin hell.” He groans out and it sounds desperate and you know he’s close.

“Come in me, Simon. Please fill me up, I promise I’ll keep it all in.”

He gives a strained chuckle and says, “Pet, I can barely pull out of a driveway much less this tight little cunt.” He squeezes your throat hard, strands of hair popping out of your scalp and his cock feels massive, the pinch in your stomach feels like a cramp from how deep he is and he lets out a low drawn out moan that lasts 3 thrusts— and then there’s warmth filling you up, so much so it leaks from the sides of where you two are connected. Simon lets go of your hair and you fall face-first onto the bed, exhausted. Defeated. Back properly broken. You officially know what it’s like to get fucked within an inch of your life and you love it. 

He pulls out slowly, with a hiss from both of you and with one hand on your left cheek, he spreads you to look at your stuffed hole.

“Fuck. I love seeing me drip out of you.” 

You’re about to tell him to sod off when the doorbell rings and the both of you stiffen and lock eyes. With a mean snarl, Simon grabs a towel from your bathroom and his mask before stomping his way to answer the door, pink obnoxious scrunchy still on his wrist.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

[babydollitzel]

Could you write dallas x female reader who has baby fever and maybe he teases her about it or get annoyed??? I just think it would be cute if dal was with someone who likes kids cause it would be so opposite of him! Tyyy and i love u and ur writing style!!

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Dallas Winston x fem!reader w baby fever

˗ˏˋ ꒰a/n꒱ ˎˊ˗ I haven’t posted in a month I’m just lazy but I’ll try getting back on track😣+ I love you too babes I love all yall💕anyways I don’t like how this came out I’m thinking abt making a cuter version or one with Dallas as a dad☝🏻

Dallas knew you were fond of children, especially babies with their little chubby cheeks and that soft baby scent. But recently you’re baby fever has been through the roof. Everytime you go shopping you can’t help but drift off to the baby section, going through all the cute clothes and toys. It made you wonder what a little baby with Dallas would look like, which is where this baby fever all started.

୨ৎ

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, you and your boyfriend Dallas were laying in his bed. His thin blanket that smelled of cigarettes and cheap cologne was messily draped over you as he was leaned back against the headboard. You on the other hand couldn’t get this whole ‘baby’ idea of out your head, so you decided to speak up.

“Have you ever considered having kids?” You knew he didn’t like kids, and it was confirmed after you saw him chase two poor little kids as a, “joke”, but you still gave the question a try.

He let out a little scoff and ran a hand through his messy dark hair, almost as if he was surprised you didn’t already know the answer to that. "Kids? Me? Nah, man you know I ain't the type. They’re nothin’ but little brats…can’t stand ‘em.”He replied, lighting a cigarette and taking a deep drag.

You huffed at his answer, you should’ve known that’d be his answer, but you were still been hoping for something different. “C’mon you’re just focusing on the bad stuff, they’re not all brats you know.”

He took the cigarette out of his mouth to let out one of his ridiculous sounding laughs, “Oh yeah? Then what’s so good about them? Enlighten me.”

You almost rolled your eyes at his seemingly mocking tone but you took this as an opportunity to show him that babies weren’t just whiny little brats. “How don’t you see it? They’re adorable! They have the cutest pouty lips and just imagine what a baby of our own would look like! I’m sure you’d change your mind when you get to hold a baby of your own for the first time.” You said, hoping to change his mind about kids.

Dallas chuckled, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t entertained at how desperately you were trying to convince him. “Adorable? Yeah right..” He said, almost as if he was shrugging off everything you had just said. “And believe me, I ain’t ever holding no damn baby in my arms. No way..they’re too fragile.”

His last statement made you rethink the whole situation, it made you come to the conclusion that maybe he was just scared. You sat up. “I’m starting to think you’re just scared of the possibility, just saying” You said with a little shrug.

He raised a brow. He wasn’t expecting you to try and get all psychologists on him. “Scared? I ain’t scared of nothin’.”He said, a hint of defensiveness in his tone, as if he was moreover trying to convince himself more than you. It was just the thought of children, something that he’d always told himself he disliked, so of course he wouldn’t change his mind about them that quickly.

You smiled a little at his defensiveness but let it slide, you knew it was gonna take more than a couple words to convince him to have a baby with you later on in life, so you decided to just leave it at that. “Yeah whatever..we’re not done with this whole baby topic though” You were determined to have a mini combination of you and Dallas running around Buck’s place sometime in the future.

Dallas let out a soft scoff, “Don’t hold your breath, sweetheart.” He said with a little smirk. He knew that you weren’t gonna let this go, and honestly he found it amusing that you were so stubborn about it, even after he shot you down several times. But the thought of a mini you and him combined did have him curious.

[princessbrunette]

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

woke up thinking about big brother rafe, toddler!wheezie, and babysitter!reader again …

rafe getting jealous when he finds out you babysit other kids. he follows you about the kitchen at tannyhill as you prepare the toddlers lunch, smiling to yourself at his clear jealousy over something so trivial.

“so that’s why you can’t watch wheezie on sunday? who— who’s kid is it? like, who’s the parent?”

“thats confidential information rafe, i’m here every other day this week why does it matter?” you giggle, slicing up baby carrots to fit a toddler sized mouth.

he leans against the countertop, pressing his lips together and lets a silence fall over you for not even a minute. “wheeze is your favourite though right?”

you turn around with an amused smile, holding back your laugh at his pettiness. “what?”

“shes your favourite, right?” he stares at you, dead serious and you lean on one hip.

“of course she is. i’m here the most, aren’t i?”

“right, right… this kid you’re babysitting on sunday, they got any older brothers?”

“rafe, c’mon.” you giggle, a little flustered but you turn back to the counter to continue preparing the food to hide this.

“look, i— i’m just lookin’ out for you, alright? what if you go over there n’there’s some creep waiting for you?” he stresses and you shake your head, warmth blossoming in your chest.

later that day — the three of you head out on rafes boat, and for a little while, out on the open water, rafe drops the big bad bully act and lets his guard down. you watch as he holds his little sister on his hip, steering the boat with the other hand. you can’t hear what he’s saying, but the two of them are giggling. it’s the first time you really see rafe fill the ‘dad’ shoes, and it makes you wonder what it would be like to have your own baby with him. the idea makes your stomach warm and heart flutter.

within the next week or so, you end up at the same party as rafe on one of your free days. it’s the first time you’ve really hung out in a social setting appropriate for people your age, and it feels almost a little weird and awkward at first. as the night goes on and the drinks flow, things get more flirty. he had a super bad day, but with you here — things felt a little better.

rafe steps away to speak to topper for a few minutes, and in that time a total creep comes out of seemingly nowhere and begins to bother you. he talks too close to your face, starts to grab at you, doesn’t take no for an answer— you’re starting to think that you can’t actually escape this, until of course, rafe comes swinging out of nowhere.

but it’s not just a one punch and he’s done, no — rafe beats him bloody, the anger issues and coke and bad day piling up on him as he continuously beats on this guy. maybe he deserves it, sure — but when the guy stops responding and rafe continues to punch and yell, panic settles in your stomach. this guy might just die.

the crowd do nothing to discourage him, drunk and cheering him on as they circle round to watch, one hundred witnesses from every angle. you call his name, but you get ignored. he grips the guys collar, malicious open mouthed grin on his face as he holds him for a moment, looking at his masterpiece.

“rafe you’re gonna kill him!” you shout, trying to be heard over the cheering. he definitely hears, because he glances up at you— the look on his face reading that he just didn’t care. “its not worth it you’ll go to jail!” you feel tears in your eyes at the thought of him not being in the house with you and wheezie anymore. wheezie.

he lifts his fist to strike a final blow, and you holler out once more. “think of wheezie!”

it’s then he freezes, blinks a couple of times — and then just like that he looks around at the scene he’s caused and shoves off onto his feet, walking away. he walks away from the party, infact — he walks all the way home.

maybe he should keep his relationship with you professional, he could have been locked up for life that night. love makes you do crazy things.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

[holy-amelie]

idk if it just me being depressed, but I want to live in sunday's dream. Live of escapism with nothing but joy. But I too know it's unhealthy.

AE!reader where joining the crew is their escape from their home planet, so they understand sunday's point of view of things, and to remind him he's not alone and they can grow out of it together.

idk if this is considered trauma dump or not, but if you're uncomfortable, it's okay to not write this too.

lots of love and I hope you have a good day

'Escapism' sfw (Sunday)

...when the world is too cruel ˎˊ˗

·.༄࿔ characters: Sunday, you

·.༄࿔ pairing: Sunday x g/n!AE!reader

·.༄࿔ cw: no tw, fluff and hurt/comfort, non-native english author, written before 2.7, but contains spoilers/leaks, be careful! Can be ooc but this is how I see him at the moment. You are from the Astral Express here.

·.༄࿔ a/n: thank you fror your request! And don't worry, love, I totally understand that feeling 💔 Sometimes I wish I could live in his dream too

Escapism is a refuge for the weary soul, a sanctuary where reality melts away. 

You, more than anyone else on the Express, understand how much we sometimes just want to escape the cruel reality and dissolve into dreams of a better world. That's why, back on Penacony, something in you resonated with Sunday's words.

That incomprehensible promise of paradise he dreamed of so much and sought so desperately.

But no matter how good his intentions may have been, their realization was not… Healthy. Not at all. Trapping everyone in a big, perfect dream with no choice was wrong, you knew that. Even if it was what your heart desperately wanted - a chance to escape reality.

Sunday was mentally crushed after all his dreams of a perfect future without pain and suffering were shattered. It had undermined his whole motivation, his whole purpose in life so much, that he was ready to be destroyed along with those dreams.

Waking up was the hardest part.

"Is there still a paradise?" he whispered, looking out the window at the star-studded canvas of space. "Or is there no place for wounded souls to rest?"

Sunday shifted his gaze to you, his eyes — shining pools of gold filled with endless sadness for everyone lost and abandoned in their pain. Something you've never seen in anyone else. Since he joined the Express, you've talked a lot, sometimes spending nights with a cup of tea away from prying eyes and ears. Underneath the leader's facade was a vulnerable, sensitive soul that was gradually revealing itself to you.

"I don't think this paradise exists," you replied quietly. "But… Even if it doesn't exist, if it can't be built for all who suffer, people are capable of creating safe havens for each other. Even in the most desperate times, people can create their own paradise. Small and fragile, but still."

It was a painful truth that you had to face, just like him. The way this world works, you can't just run away and hide forever. Locking everyone in a golden cage isn't the answer, too. Grief and joy go hand in hand. Without one, the other is meaningless.

He stared at you in silence for a while, trying to comprehend the depth of your words.

"You sound just like my sister," a bitter smile appeared on his lips and Sunday lowered his gaze. "In a good way."

For a while there was a comfortable silence between you, broken only by the hum of the Express' engines and Mart's loud laughter somewhere in the distance. Of course, it's hard to change your worldview at the snap of a finger, it really is, but Sunday tried. For his sister's sake, for the future, for… you.

"I understand how you feel," you said again. "I feel it too. The desire to find relief from suffering. But, Sunday…" you turned to him, and he tilted his head slightly, listening. "This world is complicated. Sometimes cruel, sometimes beautiful. Everyone has their own path, sometimes paved with suffering, and… Here at the Express, we can help those in need. And bring happiness back to them. Without forcing into anything. Without sacrificing our own happiness to create eternal paradise."

“Do you think I still have a chance to bring something good into this world?” he asked.

You just nodded. Despite everything, his soul was still noble and pure. If his intentions were channeled in the right direction, Sunday could be a ray of hope in the darkness for many.

“Then…” he smiled, much softer this time, not taking his eyes off you. “Will you be ready to find a new path with me?”

Of course. You will.

please, do not rewrite/copy/repost/translate my work without me knowing, you can always ask first, thanks

[sfznyxio]

-ˋˏ HEADLINES ˎˊ

SYNOPSIS. following the success of the recruitment process and their first concert, this odd combination of a band becomes busy these days. thus, they hired a manager to keep track of their schedules. and to an extent, deal with their shenanigans that may or may not feature on the news.

CHARACTERS. argenti, aventurine, jingliu, kafka, robin

CONTENT. gn!reader. celebrity au, musician au, modern au. comedy, fluff. 1.1k wc. inspired by the concert animated commercial: “before the show begins”. canon elements (jingliu - powers; aventurine - cake cats; robin - halovian features). reader’s the straight man in this chaos. cameos from yanqing (argenti, jingliu), stelle (argenti, jingliu, kafka) and caelus (aventurine, robin). brief mentions of ruan mei (aventurine) and sunday (robin). word vomit for the most part.

VERA. happy pride month, bitches. what a good way to start off the month watching the haikyuu movie, seeing volleyball boys stare at each other intensely and metaphorically stab their friends in the neck. all i can say is that the animation was insane. speaking of insane, the hsr concert was released to celebrate the game’s first anniversary. “sway to the cosmos” is my favorite out of the setlist, and i even made it as my train jam. imagine seeing it live though… i die. i had to look up what instrument jingliu plays and i strongly believe it’s an erhu based on how it looks. i kinda don’t like this; i have no idea what i wrote. it’s my worst attempt at being funny lol.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. ARGENTI

drummer argenti preaches ‘scripture of beauty’ to fans

“hey! what’s the ‘scripture’ supposed to be? actually, who is idrila? look, you can’t spout names like that and not expect a scandal to not happen.” argenti seems to be in the zone while dancing with his fans at the park, so he most likely didn’t hear what you just said. you glance at stelle and yanqing to get him to snap out of it, but they’re completely drained, on the floor from being dragged into the spotlight earlier.

“my lovely manager! since you’re here, you must be interested in being a follower?” not at the very slightest, but the name argenti throws out and about drives news outlets and his fans up on the walls. that may put the drummer at risk of being a subject of misunderstandings and fanwars, which is why you’re here in the first place. you can feel the stares of his audience burning into your skull, so you extend your hand to “express” your interest.

“wonderful. now, let us dance under the name of beauty!” throughout it all, everything blurs out. not even five minutes in, you’re exhausted out of your mind, unsure if argenti has given you useful information about his charade. in the end, you gather more questions than answers, and practically leave the drummer to handle the potential messy aftermath. he’s an enigma; anyone can tell you he’s the eighth wonder of the world, and you’ll believe it.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. AVENTURINE

guitarist aventurine adopts scientist’s ‘sweet’ creations

“rise and shine. your cats won’t stop bothering me until you wake up, by the way.” all the feline pastry lifeforms on your head, shoulder, and feet mew in agreement. caelus somehow has collaborated with the scientist who created them, making some that resemble his friends, one of which is aventurine. the guitarist adopts his lookalike for fun at first, and now his house is their haven, which makes his issue of organization worse.

“hey, pretty boy! you better wake up, or i’ll sit on your face and suffocate you!” the synesthesia beacon in your phone picks up a translation from under aventurine’s arms. there’s a cake cat that resembles you, but do you actually sound like that when you’re upset? never mind that; the most important question here is why does he have a cake cat version of you here? well, he’s already behind schedule, so out of curiosity, you try out its suggestion. 

“okay, okay. i’m up.” the cat cake version of yourself huffs at him taking forever to get ready, but seems proud of making its threat happen with your help. aventurine sees five pairs of eyes staring at him, with one in particular full of disappointment for being inconsiderate. he promises to keep track next time, but you aren’t sure he’ll truly follow through if he’s convinced to expand his cake cat kingdom.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. JINGLIU

erhu player jingliu unleashes ice blades at passersby

“for the last time, the people who watched you perform gave you strales because they appreciate your talent. this is the fourth time this week of scaring them with your sword.” you note a careful distance between the passerby and jingliu, who resumes playing her erhu like it’s none of her business. stelle has learned it the hard way so luckily she has you to deal with the erhu player. the first victim of her powers slips out from a tree to wish you luck with a thumbs up.

“ah, has that young man come yet? i would like to have a spar with him.” jingliu’s referring to yanqing, another swordsman. he loves competition, so this entire street, or the entire city even, is screwed into becoming an icy wonderland. telling her that he’s not here, she returns to performing. you notice a brilliant idea coming into fruition as soon as she stops her bow halfway, and it already doesn’t sound good.

“manager, why don’t you spar with me? let’s see who will fall first.” you immediately refuse without a second thought. jingliu would win anyway as she’s more skilled with the sword and you have no powers, so it isn’t a fair fight to begin with. you’re just relieved that she didn’t unleash her icy blades for the fifth time, and that you make it alive throughout the confrontation.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. KAFKA

violinist kafka sends many clothes stores bankrupt

“listen… i get that you look great in everything and all, but do you think this is way too much?” you gesture to the cart overflowing with concert outfits. kafka hums in contemplation as she examines her next purchase in the mirror, then nods in approval which seals the deal.

“oh, you think so too? alright then, i’ll have stelle handle all payments as usual.” stelle averts her gaze away to avoid your temper, pretending as if she didn’t enable the violinist’s unlimited shopping spree. you can sense the employees fearing for their livelihoods that are at stake, and you can feel like yours will be at the state soon if this keeps up. scolding kafka to unload everything in the cart, the wave of relief in the staff washes away when she reveals a special trick up her sleeve.

“what about your wardrobe? surely you can’t wear the same exact thing everyday, don’t you think?” kafka jabs into one of your weaknesses: the lack of variety in your closet. it’s important to appear presentable as the band manager, but your uniformity gives you not a lot of room to try out different combinations. the only hope of this store is gone, and so is the store itself as soon as the credit card is swiped.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. ROBIN

singer robin disappears once again from photoshoot

“when your brother finds out you snuck out again, he will kill me in the most painful way possible.” whenever you bring that man up, always in the worst case scenario, robin responds with a smile as reassurance that he won’t hurt you when she’s around. but it’s more like she won’t get in trouble, leaving you to shoulder the blame.

“don’t worry! caelus will take care of everything. ah, i hope i wasn’t too late.” the self-proclaimed master of stalling strikes again. knowing that man, robin’s confidence in caelus is astounding. because sooner or later, he’ll find out that she’s at a toy store with you to buy the limited edition of a clockie figurine. the singer will be happy, and you’ll end up dead in a ditch probably.

“oh no, photographers are here. can you cover for me?” robin tucks her wings beside her face so they can fit under her mask. while she browses through the aisles, you direct the photoshoot team outside, hopefully far enough from the store to remain off radar from her brother’s watch. you pray that caelus comes back in one piece as well as yourself. the cost of making a halovian’s day brighter, especially if she’s a famous singer and has a control freak of a sibling, is quite risky.

[mommyownsmeee]

ONESHOTS / WRITINGS / POETRY / SERIES ᯓ★ˎˊ˗

Tamed & Claimed

Ruin me until l'm a mess

Pushing, Disobeying, Kneeling

Your back arched as an answer

Beneath my touch

Last night you were mine to ruin

The city pulses around us

Holding you

You‘re my cumdump and that‘s all you‘re good for

Romantic thigh riding on sunday mornings

I want you on your knees for me

POETRY / Writings

I woke up with the urge to clicker train you

I want you to ride my thigh

I want to be all over you

To my Sub

I thought about teasing you all day

I'm going to take you

To the one who understands my soul

I want to make love with you in the quiet hours of the morning

I want you to lose yourself in me

About Ovulation and Breeding Kink

About how | learned to love Brats, Pillow Princess behaviour and the Art of Dominance

A letter to my submissive

There is gravity between us

I want to hunt you down and slit you up from inside // TW

Ovulation is a bitch

Making me cum with just your words

How I learned to love myself as a switch

Your laugh reminds me of hickeys

If love feels like dying—then let me die like this

I need your touch

The language of your breathing

All good out here

Taking your virginity [1]

Taking your virginity [2]

Mine to guide - Yours to trust [Dom/me version]

Yours to guide - Mine to trust [Submissive version]

Strapping Mommy - Pt. 1 [Dom/me version]

Strapping Mommy - Pt. 1 [Submissive version]

Strapping Mommy - Pt. 2 [Dom/me version]

Strapping Mommy - Pt. 2 [Submissive version]

Dreams about real people series #1

THE SCENT OF YOUR FEAR IS HOLY

- Stalker Series

[Stalking; Exhibitionism; Voyeurism; Mindgames]

WATCHED - SHE HUNTS ME [Exhibitionist]

WATCHING HER - YOU WERE MADE FOR ME [Predator]

PART 2 - PREDATOR

PART 3 - PREDATOR

Red [Vampire Sapphic]

Howl [Werewolf Sapphic]

Love Potion

[sacredswords]

No no I think that still counted

⚔️ I don't want it toooo 😭

[mistytarot0919]

hello! How are you? I hope you're doing alright. May I have a free reading, please?

My initials are A.B, she/her, dob- 16/05/2007. Something specific that happened recently was that I had a fight with my parents last Sunday- 10/11/24 and I relapsed.

I'd like a general reading for the month ahead, please! Thank you very much. I hope you have a great day. Lots of love <33

Special reading for dear angel @futuretherapoo♕˚ʚ♡ɞ˚👼🏻Misty - your tarot reader here✨🔮🌠🃏🌟!

I will start by thanking you again for being part of my community. It brings me a lot of joy to see that you guys are here and supporting my blog. Providing clarity and guidance is my mission so I hope that my reading will bring that to you. Thank you again for your patience and support as it means everything to me! (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡

[-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊAlso, every donation is welcomed -ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Count of questions/requests and answers 03/05 SPECIAL READING

Without wasting any time, let's get into your reading!⋆ ˚｡⋆୨💗୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

̣̥☆·͙̥‧❄•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙☃˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥❄‧·͙̥̣☆̣̥̣̥☆·͙̥‧❄•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙☃˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥❄‧·͙̥̣☆

Crystal for your reading: Aqua aura

Angel message: Healthy communication in relationships. Heart-to-heart discussions and clear, assertive communication help you understand and be understood.

For the month ahead there are signs of rewards for your efforts. Now you can feel that you deserve success and life starts to feel balanced as work, relationships, finances, and domestic affairs run smoothly. You will have time for celebrating as a phase is coming to an end(decisions or opportunities will soon turn in your favour). If you have been considering buying a home your dream could come true. When it comes to career you will achieve your goals(you can even get an award or a promotion). But you must know that for all this you need to continue to put in the effort and have the courage to stand up for yourself. There can be some obstacles that need to be overcome. Also, you need to know that you will deal with challenges from many sources and you will need to fight for yourself. But the good part is that you will carry on with your mission and won't give in to outside forces that oppose you. Obstacles in your path will be overcome and you might need to stand up for those who are not able to speak for themselves. If you have problems in your relationship it is a good time to ask for help in the form of counselling(from a family member or psychologist, depending on the situation). You might find yourself fighting to save a connection and this can be exhausting and challenging. If you are dealing with a relationship where you live in different places there can be some difficulties over here that need to be discussed and resolved. Be careful with your health and slow it down, things will be good in the end but if you force too much your body will suffer from physical aches(this can appear mainly because you are holding tight to the frustration of your experiences old or new). You will find an agreement and a compromise if you start to meditate before making a decision. This will bring you stability, serenity, peace, and calm. Whatever decision you have to make find a middle path or third option (especially if you have someone that is trying to influence your decision). Be careful with people who are sharp-tongued, stand your ground and say what you think as this can be only a test for you. So my dear, good things are heading your way if now you have the mental clarity and the patience to make the right decision. It can be exhausting because you think again and again for the best decision. There is no best decision, there is only a good decision that is forcing you to grow and let out all the frustration in the past. Then you can be happy and celebrate your success! Misty🌸🧚🏻‍♂️✨🤍

[yunnathearcher]

⨀ Sun Day Astrology Forecast: Sun in ♉︎ Taurus 28°, Saturn ruled decan, corresponding to the VII of Pentacles in tarot and answering to Venus in Aries. The Sun is separating from a conjunction to Uranus (cazimi) and is copresent with Mercury while approaching a sextile to Saturn. Change is constant and change takes time and if it's one thing change teaches all of us is that two things can be true at any given time. We're in the last few days of Taurus szn and many of the sparks and changes that are now beginning to move forward may feel long overdue. Be gentle with yourself and your loved ones and stubborn and bullish with your goals. There is no time like the present and embracing our individual paths of evolution while honoring our roots serve to benefit the whole. In conflict and in times of chaos, nature and routine provides ample opportunity to build upon the foundation and wisdom that has come before. Journey light and do not be afraid to let go. What/who stays- stays. What/who goes- goes. Love yourself, love each other and live the life you chose- no more, no less.

🪬 Mudra of the Day:

Prayer of the Day: Psalm 117 Read/recite to cast off despondency and regret over past failures, to move forward with renewed strength and courage and to reaffirm faith and trust in God and the word.

Track of the Day:

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ Love and peace to All and open channels to the sincere and devout messengers. Happy Sunday 𓂃 ོ☼𓂃

[milksnake-tea]

━━ YAYS .

❀ ˎˊ- Fluff ❀ ˎˊ- Angst ❀ ˎˊ- Character x Reader, Poly ❀ ˎˊ- Romantic ❀ ˎˊ- Platonic

━━ NAYS .

✿ ˎˊ- Smut; NSFW ✿ ˎˊ- Romance with child characters ✿ ˎˊ- Romance between familial/blood-related characters ✿ ˎˊ- Romance between minors and adults ✿ ˎˊ- TWST SPECIFIC: Romance with staff ✿ ˎˊ- HSR SPECIFIC: Romance with Welt (personally cannot see him in a romantic way) ✿ ˎˊ- Character x Character ✿ ˎˊ- Pregnancy fics ✿ ˎˊ- Yandere / Dark Content ✿ ˎˊ- Physically descriptive readers ✿ ˎˊ- Readers that have a specific gender; all my readers are gender neutral.

━━ FANDOMS .

❁ ˎˊ- Honkai Star Rail ❁ ˎˊ- Twisted Wonderland (inactive)

━━ FORMATS .

❀ ˎˊ- Headcanons ( Length depends on number of characters requested, typically ~200-500 words. The more characters, the shorter the headcanons. These are bulleted. ) ❀ ˎˊ- Drabbles ( Shortened oneshots, around 600-1000 words. ) ❀ ˎˊ- Scenarios ( A combination of the ones above; headcanons and short drabble in one. Usually around 500+ words. ) ❀ ˎˊ- Oneshots ( Typically around 1.5k+ words. )

Note: I only accept requests for headcanons and drabbles.

━━ CHARACTER LIMITS .

✿ ˎˊ- For headcanons, my character limit is 5. ✿ ˎˊ- For drabbles, my character limit is 1. 

━━ OTHER GUIDELINES

❁ ˎˊ- If you request for more than the specified limit for either of these, I will simply pick my favorite(s) of the bunch and write only for them. ❁ ˎˊ- My favorite characters to write are Luocha, Blade, Nanook, Sunday, and Yaoshi! ❁ ˎˊ- If you request something that goes against my rules (other than the character limit), I will delete the request. ❁ ˎˊ- Again, requests are suggestions, not requirements. I have ever right to deny any request I don't want to write. Sending in a request does not guarantee an answer. ❁ ˎˊ- ABOUT YANDERE: While I do have like one yandere work on my masterlist, I no longer write yandere and I will not take requests regarding it. I'm just no longer comfortable writing that sort of thing anymore. If you sent in a request with yandere, I will delete it.

[from-home]

𑁍 MARK LEE┊ 𝒔𝒊𝒙𝒕𝒚 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒔, 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕 / one ˎˊ˗

𑁍 summary : the one where mark lee time travels back and forth throughout the past and future with his crush, (y/n) ˎˊ˗

𑁍 pairing : mark lee x older!reader (by like three years lmao) ˎˊ˗

𑁍 word count : 6.7k ˎˊ˗

𑁍 genre : fluff, comedy (i hope??), minimal angst, time travel!au ˎˊ˗

𑁍 warnings : swearing, unrequited love (i know that shit hurts omg), my humour is ass, mark gives me slight second hand embarrassment in this, bad writing??, i gave up like halfway through this lol, first time writing a fic like this pls have mercy, it’s almost 2:30 am i'm too tired to proof read fuck ˎˊ˗

𑁍 a/n : first chapter of my first ever fic on here hehe - idk when the next chapter might come tbh but hopefully i’ll continue this series for my own enjoyment! in the meantime, uni still kicks my ass >:(( but anyway, enjoy and i hope that at least someone will find joy with this!    ˎˊ˗

[ 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟬 : 𝗗𝗔𝗬 𝟬 ]

when your pastor dad’s best friend was the biggest nerd in high school and became an eccentric scientist

O lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love,

  What a beautiful Pussy you are,

       You are,

       You are!

What a beautiful Pussy you are!

      If he could write like that, maybe Mark wouldn't need to be here in this boring literature class of his. Don't get him wrong, he liked writing, and he liked the way he could express his emotions through a pen and paper. But for the twenty-one-year-old boy who could barely sit still in one place without his mind wandering off into four different dimensions, it was hard to be interested in whatever the professor was rambling on about. Maybe Professor Jung was telling the story of how she met Dylan Thomas' widow's sister's friend's cousin, and how much of an artistic impact it had on her. She had told the story a good three times in the past two months - Mark kept count.

      Yeah, writing was fun and all, but literature class specifically was boring and dull to him. "Oh but Mark, why take this course then?" one might ask. But one should also know that it was a necessary course if Mark wanted to earn his oh-so-coveted diploma.

      Curse him for majoring in creative writing. His dad always did wonder why writers even bother writing when the bible exists.

      But maybe one day, an hour and a half of John Keats would produce him some ideas for a romantic poem that he could write and gift off to his love of seven years... and counting.

      (Y/N), the shiniest of all pearls and the most beautiful of all Mona Lisa's, the older woman and her beauty often left Mark stunned and helplessly in love. He first met her when he was fourteen, when she had been introduced as his seventeen-year-old tutor. She was so pretty back then, and still was now. In fact, it was as if she didn't age at all!

      Someone who resembled a goddess like (Y/N)  deserved only the most romantic of all romantic poems, and Mark Lee made it a mission to be the one to write it for her. He was so helplessly in love with her that he was able to channel his feelings for her into five different written forms: poems, song lyrics, an 'A for effort?' drawing of her, letters, and anonymous blog posts about how "unrequited love hurts".

      Sure, those blog posts were anonymous, but as good as Mark thought he was at hiding his feelings for her, everybody in town and their ancestors' spirits knew about the big crush Mark had on her. But no one bothered to tell (Y/N) about her not-so-secret admirer and nobody bothered to let Mark know that his mysterious crush wasn’t as well-kept to himself as he thought it was.

      But it was cute. Not the part where Mark slowly died on the inside as each day passed without his feelings being returned (that was pretty sad, everybody acknowledged), but the part where the adoration in his eyes were so clear for (Y/N). Legend went that he held stars in his eyes whenever his gaze rested on the older woman - like, actual stars from the galaxy. Or so the first-hand accounts go.

      Mark Lee was a talented and hardworking boy, that much was a shared sentiment by everybody in town. He excelled at all subjects, mowed the lawn twice just because he thought he missed a spot, gave it his all at church every Sunday by rapping and dancing in the name of Jesus Christ until he was reduced to sweat and threatening to rip his dress shirt off - he was a jack of all trades. There were even rumours that whenever it was time for a 'Make a Wish' patient to... make a wish in heaven, he would dress up as Spiderman and visit them in the hospital to make their final dreams come true. So maybe that's why it was so endearing, his one-sided love for his noona. If there was one person who could jump over that hurdle of "just friends" and out of the friend zone, it had to be Mark, the boy who's always gave it his all in everything ever since he moved here from Canada when he was twelve. It was one thing to have this crush that you desperately wanted to be returned, but it was another to have the whole town cheering for you - it said a lot about Mark's character.

      Which is why! There was no other perfect test subject for Scientist Kim, the local eccentric scientist who was obsessed with creating his "next big invention". He also happened to be the best friend of the town's pastor (weird combination, everybody knows), courtesy of their high school days and a misunderstanding over a carton of milk. The town's pastor also oh-so-coincidentally happened to be Mark's father, who had lived in Korea for all his life until he moved to Canada so his wife could give birth to baby Mark. He ended up moving back to his hometown, however, thus creating a new relationship between his best friend and son.

      Now Scientist Kim - who liked to go by "Cabbage" as a homage to his idol, Charles Babbage - didn’t really care about Mark's painful one-sided love, but he knew the boy could never say no to his father's best friend from high school, so there was no one better to try out his experiments and inventions than Mark. Like, there was literally no one else at all - the whole town swore Cabbage was out of his mind and were still waiting for the day the newspaper would come out with a headline that he's been charged with involuntary manslaughter. Everybody would be disappointed, but not surprised. But such an incident hadn’t happened yet, so for now, Cabbage was still freely working hard everyday to successfully complete and unveil the invention that would propel him to "the front page of every science magazine and a Nobel Prize in Physics".

      And it just so happened to be today, October 30th 2020, when Mark received a phone call from his dad's best friend in the middle of class. He was glad he kept his phone on vibrate, but god, was it distracting. To answer or not to? Why now of all times? Right, he forgot that some people don't have anything else to do with their lives other than... creating things that usually end up on fire by the end of it. You know, now that he thought back on it, the last time Mark willingly participated in Cabbage's experiment which involved some tinfoil, antennas, and laser beam machining, it left Mark's right shoe on fire - thank God he had brought a fire extinguisher over to Cabbage’s house with him.

      Just that memory alone convinced Mark to ignore the call, nearly forgetting about it once it had stopped ringing if not for the fact he received another call just seconds later. "What is this, an infatuation?" Mark grumbled to himself, before glancing up at the front to see if Professor Jung was distracted enough for him to take this call without her noticing. It didn't help that he sat three rows away from the front. But she still seemed to be rambling on about how much she loved Dylan Thomas' works, and that was a sign for him to accept the call. He kept his voice to a hushed whisper, however, "Hello-"

      "Mark! You have to come over!" There was no way Professor Jung did not hear that screech that came from his phone. He glanced up nervously, noticing his classmate's startled gazes on him. But his eyes wandered over to the front, and judging by how Professor Jung was now going on about Dylan Thomas' "attractive appearance", it seemed he was in the safe for now.

      "Cabbage, I'm in class, so could you keep it down?" Mark hissed quietly into the phone.

      "Right, right, sorry!" While he was still loud even after lowering his voice down, it was more than quiet enough for Professor Jung not to notice, thankfully. "Mark, I've just completed my latest invention. But this isn't just any invention, it's the invention of both my - and everybody's dreams!"

      Mark would be mildly curious if not for the fact that Cabbage said that about every invention of his, but he figured that his dad was going to urge him to go anyway, even if Mark didn’t want to. "But he's my best friend, Mark!" Jeez, because how could he possibly say no to the power of friendship?

      "Mark? Boy? You still there?" Cabbage’s voice pulled Mark out of his thoughts, and the boy could do nothing but sigh. This was just going to be like every other time - he’d be introduced to some machine that supposedly did one thing, said machine would catch on fire the next minute, and it would all result in Mark going home an hour later.

      "Fine, I'll be there. After class in like, half an hour." Mark reassured the scientist, and he swore, he could hear something catching on fire in the background.

      "Great!" He then heard rushed footsteps and... a fire extinguisher? "See you then!" And the call ended.

      He just couldn’t wait.

       When visitors would come to the humble town of Uicheon (의천), located just thirty minutes away by car from the bustling capital city, Seoul, the first thing they would notice was how much the town gave off Suburban American vibes, like walking through a town where the main characters of some random Disney high school movie lived. All single detached houses, varying in style from Country French to Cape Cod with recent contemporary and modern upgrades to those houses by residents who wanted to "spice it up".

        Uicheon was a town seen by others where most of the population was upper-middle class. There was nothing wrong with that at all, and actually, the residents of Uicheon were both happy and welcoming of anybody and anyone who stepped foot into town or even took an interest in moving, no matter of their social or economic status.

       If anything, the residents of Uicheon - the ones who've lived in the town for longer than ten years at least - were often worried that those who did show interest of moving in inevitably get... scared off. By one particular daunting house.

       It was a beautiful town. No seriously, Uicheon had been mentioned on multiple "Top 5 beautiful towns just outside of Seoul that you should visit!" lists published on the internet. And in the beautiful small town where all the houses provide comfort and beauty, surrounded by flowers on nearly every available patch of grass like something straight out of a magazine, there stood a modern house - the only completely modern house in the town - its exterior all... black. Even the big windows were tinted black, and it was obvious that the house stuck out like a sore thumb. Sometimes, the local kids told stories of how the house was abandoned, and was home to a ghost with a vengeful spirit inside who wanted to steal your teeth. The residents of Uicheon had gotten used to the house's presence already, but it didn’t stop the mutual sentiment of "...really?" amongst them.

       And currently, Mark stood in front of its black front doors, ringing the black doorbell and covering his ears as trumpets echoed from inside the house, playing to the tune of the guitar solo of Gun N' Roses' 'Sweet Child O' Mine.' Only seconds later, did the door swing open, revealing a robot, half of Mark's height. "SCANNING FACE... HELLO M-A-R-K, MARK." It greeted, well, robotically.

       "Hey, Edison," Mark greeted the robot nonchalantly, walking in and shutting the door behind him, "where's Cabbage?" He asked as he took off his shoes and placed it on the nearby shoe rack.

       "LOCATING THE DOCTOR..." Edison's eyes turned yellow, colour blinking repeatedly until it turned into a green light and stayed like that. "DOCTOR LOCATED - HE IS IN HIS LABORATORY DOWNSTAIRS."

       Because was it really surprising that the house belonged to a guy who invented things for a living and went by the name of a vegetable in a bizarre way to honour his idol?

       "Got it, I'll go meet up with him then." Mark informed, heading down the hall until he reached the black spiral staircase that led both to the third floor and bottom floor. It was really nice up there on the third floor though; Mark had been there before and it even came with a movie room! Too bad Cabbage rarely used it because he "doesn't have time for action sequences". So Mark, being the loyal lab assistant/test subject he was, headed down instead to the bottom floor, where he was greeted by a hallway that was lined up with pictures of old men on the walls. "My inspirations!" Cabbage would say. Among them were the likes of Albert Einstein, Thomas Edison (who he named his robot after, clearly), Nikola Tesla... you got the drift.

       Regardless, Mark never stayed in the hall longer than he needed to - he wasn’t sure if portraits of old men who were dead by now staring at him was exactly his kind of vibe.

       At the very end of the hall, all that awaited him was a grey metallic door that had some vapour seeping through the narrow space at the bottom of it. "Shit, I didn't bring a fire extinguisher today..." Mark cursed, grabbing onto the straps of his backpacks and readjusting it on his shoulders. "It's okay, Mark. He hasn't killed you before, so he can't kill you today...?" He wasn’t sure what the logic behind that thought was but you couldn’t blame him for trying to... reassure himself for whatever was about to come beyond those doors. It was funny to him; he had been the lab rat of many of Cabbage's crazy experiments and inventions, yet he kept coming back and every time he did, the jitters were always there.

       Maybe it wasn’t because he was scared of death. Because he wasn’t - his father always drilled the idea into his head that God would welcome him with open arms when the time came. At the very least, if Mark died - most likely because of one of these experiments and inventions - he'd be bringing Cabbage with him. But hey, that was beyond the point.

       If not the fear of death, then what? Maybe, just maybe... one of these days, one of Cabbage's revolutionary inventions would actually be successful. That for all of the craziness that's going on inside the mad scientist's head, it would finally pay off.

       If only he knew when.

       Mark reached for the handle and twisted it, pulling the door open and nearly coughing when a whole cloud of mist and vapour rushed at him. "Jeez, Cabbage, what are you doing this time?" Mark coughed into his arm as he took a step into the laboratory. He actually couldn't see the scientist at first, waving his hand around in hopes that he'd be able to swat away the mist and vapour. The space around him eventually did clear, though, revealing...

       Nothing?

       Instead of the usual grand machine that looked like it was taped together, Mark was greeted with... a clear space. The scientist was over at his desk just up a set of stairs that led to a second floor within the big room. "Cabbage!" Mark called after him, waving his hands to get his attention.

       Whatever the scientist was busy doing, it was important enough to leave Mark ignored for a good five seconds. It left him pouting, though the scientist eventually did glance over at the boy, his eyes widening behind his circular glasses. "Mark, boy, there you are!" Cabbage sprang out of his seat, quickly rushing down to the boy he had called over. He held some sort of watch in his hands, like it was the most precious thing in the world. Jeez, since when did Cabbage wear Rolex? "Took you long enough! I was bouncing in my seat waiting for you to come over! But in the meantime, I was able to complete another one after confirming my calculations for the twenty-seventh time..."

       One thing that nobody wanted to do was sit through Cabbage's rambling, prompting Mark to speak up. "Whoa, calm down, Cabbage. What's going on? Where's your invention?"

       "Oh Mark, you're looking at it." Cabbage held out the watch and Mark raised an eyebrow.

       "That small thing?" Mark narrowed his eyes at the watch in the scientist's hand. "Are you sure? Last time I came in for one of your creations, it was twice my size and almost killed me." But knowing the kind of person Cabbage was, Mark wouldn't be too surprised if this little watch managed to wreck havoc as well. How ironic it would be, for something so small to cause so much chaos.

       Cabbage shook his head, meeting Mark's gaze with oddly serious eyes. "Mark, the creation I hold in my hand can - and will - change the world. If left in the wrong hands, everything could collapse. Society will crumble, the universe will be left in a never-ending stream of terror, reality will no longer exist, the concept of time will-"

       "Okay, okay," Mark was left, once again, trying to calm down the frantic scientist, "Cabbage, deep breaths. Tell me, what did you create?" It couldn't be that bad that it left the older man going on some admittedly fear-inducing rant.

       "A time travel machine."

       One Mississippi, two Mississippi...

       "Alright, I'll see you next time then, Cabbage." And almost immediately, Mark turned on his heel, prepared to just dip out of there.

       "Wait, no, Mark!" The scientist called after the boy, grabbing a hold of his sleeve, "Please, hear me out!"

       "Time travel, Cabbage!" Mark whirled around, disbelief painted in his features. "Do you even hear yourself right now? That's impossible! This is impossible! Listen, I'm fine with being your test subject but even I have to put my foot down somewhere when things get a bit too crazy!"

       Despite Mark's reasonable concerns, Cabbage really didn't feel like letting his lab assistant slip away from the tip of his fingers, especially now of all times. "Come on, Mark! Twenty-seven times! I checked my calculations twenty-seven times! Don't let my hard work go down the drain!"

       "Then do it yourself! Time travel yourself!" Mark exclaimed.

       "I can't! I need you to go so I can stay behind and collect all the data while making sure you don't get stuck in the future or something!" Cabbage explained.

       Unfortunately, Mark's face still showed utter disbelief. "You know, this really doesn't help your case, Cabbage!"

       "Fine! We'll do this the fair way then!" Cabbage shouted, holding his fist out.

       "Are you serious? Rock, paper, scissors?!" Mark cried out, covering his eyes. If there was one thing he couldn't say no to, it was rock, paper, scissors. Why? Maybe because he boasts a seven-hundred-fifty-two win record, with a mere twenty-one losses in the game. As you could probably assume, Mark was the undisputed rock, paper, scissors king in Uicheon, and only two kinds of people would dare challenge him in the game when it came to bets. Those who were bold and those who were desperate.

       "I mean it, Mark! If you win, you can walk right out that door and never look back. I won't force this onto you. But if I win..." If Cabbage won, "you have to at least give this experiment a thought."

       "Wait, that's it?" Mark uncovered his eyes, surprise in his voice. But hey, it wasn't a bad deal at all - in fact, the opposite. If Mark won - which he was pretty much guaranteed to - he could leave. If he didn't, he could pretend he thought it over and just say no in the end. "Well shit, say no more, Cabbage." And out Mark's fist went. “On shoot?”

       "On shoot." The scientist confirmed, the two men placing their fists behind their backs.

       "Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!"

       Rock for Mark, and... rock for Cabbage.

       "You got lucky." Mark rolled his shoulders back. "But this is it." And back their fists went behind them.

       "Rock, paper, scissors... shoot!!"

       Scissors for Mark, and... rock for Cabbage.

       "I won..." Cabbage glanced down at his fist, mouth left agape, "I-I won! Against you!"

       Yikes, better make that record seven-hundred-fifty-two wins to twenty-two losses now.

       "I-I..." Mark was still in disbelief, for a totally different reason now, however. "I... I lost?" Under such circumstances too... but seriously! Time travel was a bit too much! "H-Hey, that doesn't mean I'm going to be going through with this! Remember, you said if you won, you'd let me think about it!" Mark reminded.

       "Yeah, but only because I didn't think I'd actually win!" Cabbage snorted, shaking his head as he tucked the watch safely in the pocket of his white lab coat. "But I am a man of my word, so I'll give you some time to think about it. How about until the end of the day?" He suggested.

       "That's a bit too soon, don't you think?" Mark frowned, not really liking the idea of being forced into a decision so quickly.

       "Sorry, is that loser talk?" God, that damn Cabbage always knew how to get under Mark's skin.

       "Fine, by the end of the day. But don't be surprised if my answer doesn't change." Mark warned. "Now if that's it, I'll be going." Mark huffed, turning around and heading to the door once more. This time, the scientist let him go, but not without some parting words.

       "See you soon, Mark."

       (Y/N) doesn't know where her life went wrong.

       Okay, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration and a dramatic one as well, but it didn't change the fact that instead of living out in the city and pursuing her dream as a world renown film director, she was stuck in her small hometown, working full-time at a film-rental store.

       What was even the point of this store anyway? Everything was online nowadays anyway - who did the owner think he was, trying to compete with Netflix?

       "One Mississippi, two Mississippi..." (Y/N) mumbled to herself from behind the counter, staring dully at the analog clock hung just above the front doors. An analog clock - what year was this again?

       "(Y/N)," the voice of the store's owner, Mr. Yoon, was a less than welcoming disruption to her daily "clock-watching" (as she termed it herself), but at least it was a good way to remind her that the day was almost over, "did the kids all go home already?"

       (Y/N) nodded, reaching below into the counter for a piece of paper with names and times. "Yup, Jungwoo and Sungchan just finished their shifts half an hour ago." She pointed to their names on the paper, "Signed out here."

       "Great. You're in charge of closing up for today then, I have business in the city." Mr. Yoon informed, proudly readjusting his grip on the handles of his briefcase.

       "Godspeed, Mr. Yoon." (Y/N) nodded, watching as the man left with a nod. And as the doors closed behind him, the female found herself alone in the store. All alone... which actually wasn't even that uncommon.

       (Y/N); twenty-four years old, graduated from a local college two years ago with a degree in Film Studies with hopes of eventually entering the field of film-making and directing. She had high hopes, especially when she graduated. "To the city and A-list I go!" She could remember cheering that day in her car, diploma in hand and graduation gown still on.

       But somebody must have forgotten to tell her that the university you went to mattered - and just how competitive the job market was for... pretty much every job.

       Now this wasn't to say the college she attended was bad or anything, it just wasn't... one of the SKY universities.  And before she knew it, when it came time for job hunting, the positions were constantly being filled out by "better candidates" and after a certain amount of "we regret to inform you"s, (Y/N) decided to go back home.

       Home, in the beautiful yet small town of Uicheon. All she wanted was to make it big, live in a nice condo in Seoul and shop at luxury brands. Yet now, she found herself wearing what was possibly a ten-year-old uniform from the back storage with a name tag that was always tilted at a forty-five degree angle no matter how many times she tried to fix it.

       But don't get her wrong! She hadn't given up yet - she absolutely would not! Her films might not be playing in theatres or at the Busan International Film Festival, but she still enjoyed writing up ideas and getting some of her co-workers to act out some scenes for her while she filmed eagerly with her trusty camcorder.

       The Sony HDR-CX675; this bad boy cost her a good two months of saving up but God, was it worth it. Jungwoo in a wig and Sungchan throwing pens like they were daggers had never looked so good in HD until (Y/N) had gotten her hands on that beloved camcorder of hers.

       "Should I film the clock or something?" She sighed, eyes wandering back over to the analog clock. At least she only had an hour left before the store closed, and she usually spent most of that time cleaning up anyway.

       And so that hour began, dreadfully long until with only ten minutes to spare, the front door had opened, prompting (Y/N) to rush back to the counter from the storage room, though not without grumbling to herself quietly about what asshole comes into a store ten minutes before they close.

       But it wasn't just anybody who came in - it was Mark, the boy who always complimented her hair no matter how lazy she had been to brush it that day. Still, flattery always earned some brownie points in (Y/N)’s books. So she wasn't hesitant at all when she had greeted Mark. "Hey, it's nice to see you here! Renting a movie?" She asked, resting her arms on the counter top.

       "Yeah, looking for some Christian-friendly Halloween movie. For the kids at church this Sunday, since Halloween is tomorrow." Mark chuckled shaking his head.

       "Let me see what I can find," (Y/N) grinned as she slipped away from the counter and to one of the shelves, "I'll be honest though, you're probably better off showing the kids some cartoon from Netflix or something."

       As if Mark was going to tell her that he insisted to his dad on renting a movie, for he wanted to see and talk to the girl of his dreams who currently had her back turned to him. "Well you know us, terrible with technology." Instead, that was all he could muster up.

       "I'll bet." She snickered jokingly, turning back to him with a movie now in her hand, "Toy Story of Terror sound good to you?"

       "Better than showing them Scream." Mark shrugged before heading back to the counter with her. "I'll pay with debit."

       "Mhm," (Y/N) nodded, taking his card and swiping it for him through the machine, "you know the usual, watch within thirty days and return it after those thirty days." She reminded him with a yawn. God forbid Mr. Yoon ever see that.

       "Busy day?" Mark offered a small sympathetic smile as he took his card back as well as the movie. "I kind of get it. Cabbage called me in for one of his inventions today."

       "Today?" She asked, watching as the boy across from her nodded. "What was it this time?" Everybody in town felt bad for Mark since he was the one always testing out Cabbage's inventions, but at the same time, at least it wasn't them?

       "Gosh, you wouldn't believe me if I said it." He shook his head with a heavy sigh. "A time travel machine - or like, a time travel watch, I guess."

       "Time travel?" The gasp from the female was expected; anybody would be surprised. "I always knew Cabbage was ambitious but definitely not to the extent of time travel!"

       "Yeah, needless to say, I said no. Or like, I told him I would think about it, you know?" Mark frowned. "I just can't believe... time travel of all things."

       "I'll be honest," there was a smile spreading on (Y/N)’s face, to the slight surprise of Mark, "the idea of time travel sounds so cool though. I'd love to try it out." When Mark had brought up what had happened at Cabbage's house, he didn't think (Y/N) would actually be... interested in the scientist's invention. Definitely not when it was so absurd. But she looked so cute, the way she stood up straighter and her attentive eyes as he talked about it. Gosh, he wished he could tell her that it wasn't worth the time. But her interest was clear, that much he couldn't ignore.

       "Then... why don't you try it in my place?" Mark suggested hesitantly. He didn't want (Y/N) and her pretty little self anywhere near those dangerous creations, for concern of her safety. But she really seemed to be interested in this, and this... it was the least he could do.

       "Alone? No thanks." She giggled softly, to the relief of the boy who had suggested it in the first place. "Maybe if someone else was with me though. Like a time travel duo!" Hold up - someone else?

       "This is your chance, Mark!" His inner voice practically screamed at him. Anything for (Y/N), right? "But it's so dangerous!" His other inner voice tried deterring him from going through with what he was about to suggest. But for (Y/N)! "Then," Mark felt his heartbeat quicken, excitement and hope visible in his eyes, "you wouldn't mind if we did it together, would you?"

       If his friends Johnny and Donghyuck were here, they'd definitely be cheering and slapping him on the back. It felt like he was asking her out, something he always dreamed of doing but never really having the guts to do so. Rejection was a scary thought, but as he watched the wide smile that spread onto (Y/N)’s face, he knew he had something to look forward to, even if through... this.

       "Of course! it'll be fun!" Score! "Too bad only one person can go though, I assume." She frowned.

       And for a second, Mark's hopes had shattered once again. But then he remembered something back at Cabbage's house, and maybe, just maybe, it wasn't over yet. "Actually, I think Cabbage mentioned making two watches." After confirming his calculations twenty-seven times. "Why don't we go together?"

       "Seriously? You wouldn't mind?" Oh, what Mark wouldn't given just to see that wide smile on (Y/N)’s face every single second of the day.

       And with a smile of his own, he nodded. "Of course not, noona."

       Love has always been a motivation for man, ever since the beginning of humans. And as time continued on and advanced, a variety of factors had been added to that list of motivation, such as money and power. But one constant above all was always going to be love - something that had always been interpersonal.

       So that was why Cabbage wasn't too particularly surprised to see Mark come back to his house later in the evening, this time, with a female companion. And judging by the look of awe on her face, it didn't take much for the scientist to connect the dots. "Mark, you came back!" Cabbage smiled down at the boy from the second floor of his basement lab. "With a friend this time?"

       "Right," Mark cleared his throat, gesturing to the scientist, "(Y/N), this is Cabbage as you already know, and Cabbage, this is (Y/N), my friend."

       "Hi! It's great to be here! Like, really great." (Y/N) was still enamoured by the many... things going on in the lab, though Mark couldn't blame her.

       "Anyway Mark, have you given my invention a thought?" Cabbage inquired, standing up from his seat by his computer and leaning against the railing. "I assume that's why you're here, after all."

       Mark nodded. "I have." He confirmed, biting down on his lip. "And I'll do it."

       "You will?" The scientist's eyes widened, grin spreading on his face. "That's great!"

       "But," Mark began, gaze falling over onto (Y/N) for a short second before back onto the scientist, "with conditions."

       "Conditions?" Cabbage raised an eyebrow, pleasantly intrigued.

       "Conditions!" (Y/N) suddenly spoke up with a grin, earning a look from the two. "Sorry, it just felt kind of intense so I wanted to ease tensions a bit." She coughed, glancing back and forth between the two. "Please, continue." She urged.

       "A-Anyway yes, conditions." Mark cleared his throat before turning to the scientist once more. "I want (Y/N) to come with me. You have two watches, don't you?"

       "I do." Cabbage nodded, fishing his hand into the pocket of his lab coat and bringing out two identical watches. "So far, they're the only two I have so I need to make sure that your friend will be extra careful with this."

       "She will." Mark reassured without any hesitation. "I know she will, because she's (Y/N)." A man who was claiming everybody's hearts left and right - except for (Y/N)’s though, unfortunately.

       Cabbage looked as if he was pondering on the thought for a bit before eventually nodding and making his way down the stairs. "Well, if Mark is vouching for you, I guess it should be okay." Cabbage nodded before gesturing for the two to follow him to the back of the lab, where large screen rested on the wall and multiple smaller monitors on both it's sides, resting on a glass desk. Below it were multiple keyboards, a few touch pads here and there with clearly different functions. It was like something straight out of a sci-fi movie. "This is where I'll be monitoring and communicating with you two while you're in whatever time period you land in." He explained, gesturing to his set up.​​​​​​​

       "What about the watches?" (Y/N) asked.

       "I'm just getting to that." Cabbage nodded, reaching for the two watches once again. "Gather around, you two." He motioned for them to come closer. "It looks like a regular analog watch at first, but if you tap the clock face," he did what he had just said, the other two watching in awe as a small digital hologram had appeared in the air, just above the clock face, "it has information such as your battery life on the right hand corner, the date and time you're in, the option to video call me, and the option to switch time periods." He pointed out each detail on the hologram. "Now the problem with the switching time periods is that once you arrive somewhere, you're stuck there for, at a minimum, twenty-four hours before the voltage and particle energies recharge and allow you to travel elsewhere."

       "Wait, so you're staying we might be stuck in a different time for a whole day?" Mark asked, a bit of alarm evident in his voice.

       "Unfortunately, I haven't been able to find out the proper calculations to make the recharging process quicker but for the meantime... yes." The scientist sighed. "But hey, at least it's not twenty-five hours...?"

       "Cabbage!" Mark groaned, running his hand down his face.

       "I mean, twenty-four hours doesn't sound that bad." (Y/N) hummed. "I'd love to explore a different time period, really get to know what it was like!"

       "See, at least someone's optimistic." Cabbage sent a not-so-subtle look over at Mark. "But anyway, I actually have a quest for you two."

       "Ooh, a quest! I feel like I'm in a video game." (Y/N) giggled, and if it weren't for the fact that she was totally digging this right now, Mark would have just straight up left out of fear for his own safety.

       "Exactly!" Cabbage nodded eagerly. "Since you two will be going to different time periods, I want you to bring back a memento of some sort from each time period."

       "Anything specific?" Mark asked, wanting to make sure he was going into this with full details.

       "Yes, for the purpose of analytic purposes due to their high amount of energy." Cabbage turned to the two, a suddenly serious look on his face. "A meaningful item to at least one person you encounter."

​​​​​​​        The two waited for him to say more, but nope, all he did was stare back at them. Mark ended up being the first to speak up. "Hm, I think you're missing the part where you, oh I don't know, tell us what you mean by ‘meaningful item’??"

       "That will vary from person to person, Mark boy." Cabbage sighed, giving an empathetic pat on the boy's shoulder. "One person's 'meaningful item' might be a necklace that their mother gifted them, or maybe a letter from a lover for a soldier - everything in life is a variable anyway."

       "Wait, then how do we know something is a meaningful item?" (Y/N) asked.

​​​​​​​        "That's where this last function of the watches come in," Cabbage turned his attention back to the watches, "this icon," he pointed to one of the icons on the hologram screen that resembled a heart, "will allow you to scan a person once you've talked to them. This only works one person at a time though, and it does drain a lot of energy from the watch battery. It'll allow you to see particles coming from objects, like sparkles. The more vivid, bigger and brighter the particles, chances are that's your person's meaningful item. So be careful with who you choose to use it on - once you scan that person, you'll have to find their meaningful item before you can use it again. Not to mention that the longer it takes for you to find the meaningful item, the more energy it drains." He warned.

​​​​​​​        "Talk about ominous, gosh." Mark sighed, shaking his head. "I can't believe I'm doing this."

       "It'll be exciting though, Mark." (Y/N) glanced over at the boy beside her, a grin spreading on her face. "We're in this together, after all!"

       "Noona..." A shade of red coated Mark's cheeks as he stared down at her, eyes sparkling with adoration.

       "Ahem, and me too." Cabbage interrupted, "Just, I'll be back here handling everything."        

       "Yes, of course, because where would we be without you, Cabbage?" Mark sighed, feeling a bit salty over the scientist's interruption during his and (Y/N)’s "moment".

       "Love you too, Mark." Cabbage blew a kiss his way before handing a watch to Mark and (Y/N) each. "Are you two ready?"

       "Wait, we're doing this so soon?" Mark's eyes widened, staring down at the watch in his hands with a bit of fear.

       "Better sooner than later." Cabbage shrugged, helping attach the watch onto Mark's wrist and then to (Y/N)’s. "You guys will be fine, don't worry. I'm here, after all!"

       "So reassuring, Cabbage." Mark grumbled, about to protest over the quick timing and suddenness of all of this if not for the sudden feeling of warmth in one of his hands. He glanced down at said hand, eyes lingering on the smaller hand that had clasped his own. And as his eyes wandered up to the hand's owner, he swore she was going to be the death of him.

       "It'll be okay, Mark." (Y/N) squeezed his hand softly with a reassuring smile. "We're in this together." She repeated.

       "Right..." Mark trailed off before taking a deep breath and nodding. "Together." He then glanced over at the scientist. "We're ready, Cabbage."

       With an excited smile, the older man nodded before turning to his set up and taking a seat down in the chair. The sounds of his quick tapping against the keyboard keys had Mark worrying with every passing second, but as (Y/N) held his hand, he figured this wouldn't be a terrible way to die. "Adios, you two!" Cabbage called out before hitting one last button. Click!

       And as a bright and large flash of light illuminated within the lab, Mark knew it had begun, especially with the way his limbs practically burned and his consciousness struggling to stay intact.

       The things he'd do for love, huh?

[woodlandcomforts]

Taking Care of Your Face and Looking Good (With Minimal or NO Makeup)

Disclaimer: I am not a cosmetics or skincare professional. I would not even classify myself as an expert. But after years of confusion I still haven’t found a comprehensive beginner’s guide explaining not just what to use, but why, and whether it is truly an essential step or just a brand trying to sell more products. I hope my decade of frustration can prevent others from the same fate.

My daily skincare routine used to consist of washing my face with facial soap before I went to bed. I figured that was enough; it’s soap made for the face (so not too harsh) and I’m cleaning the dirt off, so I should be good, right? Wrong. You don’t just want your skin to be clean, you want it to be healthy. I didn’t realize ‘clean’ and ‘healthy’ weren’t mutually inclusive until a couple years ago.

I have very fair skin that is “normal” (i.e. not too oily or too dry) and I suffer from mild but chronic acne. The products that work for me may not work for you, but the basic guidelines still remain the same. Just make sure to do your own research on certain products before buying and using them. Unlike many beauty gurus, I am not trying to sell you products and I received nothing nor will I receive anything for linking them to you. That means I am suggesting products I do genuinely believe to be good and am not just getting paid to promote.

Warning: This is a long post with a lot of reading. I promise it is worth it if you want to understand skincare. If you just want to know what to do, there is a TL;DR at the end.

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Cleansing

Washing your face daily is important if you wear makeup. You want to go to bed with a clean, healthy face to prevent clogged pores overnight. Make sure your pillowcase is clean as well; changing it every two to four days is ideal. If you accidentally fall asleep with makeup or some other heavy cosmetic on, change your pillowcase before the next night regardless of the last time you changed it. (Yes, I have a ton of pillowcases. You’ll want to stock up.)

I wash my face twice a day if I’m wearing makeup: once before applying it and again before settling down for the night. (The steps for each change, look at the bottom of this post to see morning versus nightly routines). If you do not use cosmetics you may find you only need to wash your face once a day. Others wash their face every other day or even less. Do what is best for you. Allowing your face to regulate itself may in fact be the answer to your problems. For others (like me), your face may be abysmal at taking care of itself and thus you’re left to do the work for it. Thanks, face.

Here’s the optimal way to wash your face:

Remove makeup. Use an oil-based cleanser to remove makeup. I recommend this cleanser with jojoba oil. Use your fingers in gentle circular motions over your face until your makeup is loosened. Do not scrub your face with a towel or loofah. A cotton pad works best if you need to wipe more aggressively. If you don’t have any makeup on this step isn’t 100% necessary, but many people swear by double-cleansing so it doesn’t hurt if you’re feeling ambitious.

Cleanse. Removing makeup does not necessarily clean your skin, nor is oil-based cleanser the best way to rid your pores of dirt, so you need to clean your face again even if you did step one. I use this fermented grain cleanser. When looking for your own, make sure to avoid oil-based cleansers on this second step. Oil sits on top of your pores and doesn’t penetrate into them so it does not clean your skin fully. Water-based cleanser works best (meaning water should be the first, main ingredient).

Exfoliate. *Do not do this step every day*. Exfoliation should be once a week, no more than three. Exfoliating rids your face of dead skin cells, meaning if you’ve already exfoliated recently you’re just rubbing abrasives into your healthy skin... not ideal. Exfoliate on the last night of your most heavily cosmetic days, such as a Friday night if you work Mon-Fri or Sunday night if you wear more makeup on the weekends. Make sure whatever product you are using has been made for the face, as body exfoliators are too harsh. I really like Mary Kay’s Botanical Effects Scrub but it’s on the expensive side. A cheaper scrub I've been using recently is from St. Ives. Again, rub gently in circular motions, avoiding the eyes, then wash with water.

Tips:

When massaging cleanser into your skin, start from the middle of your face and rub outward in circular motions. This helps prevent wrinkles among other benefits (some people claim this alleviates puffiness and even makes your face look smaller).

Wash with cold or lukewarm water. Hot water dries out your skin.

Wash your hands often, and not just after bathroom visits. Everyone touches their face way more than they think they do. Keeping your hands clean will keep your face cleaner, too.

Warnings:

I repeat, do not exfoliate your face every day. You will ruin your skin.

Likewise, don’t ever scrub your face, especially not with abrasive items like loofahs. Even if you want to get rid of blackheads, little bumps, or acne, scrubbing your face will only irritate it more and exacerbate the problem.

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Balancing

Many people claim that washing your face makes it worse: causing dryness, redness, oiliness, etc. While some may have good results by leaving their skin alone, I do not believe it is the universal answer. The most likely reason someone sees bad results is because they are not rebalancing their face to its natural levels. When you wash with cleansers, you are stripping your face of its oils and protections. Your skin may produce more to compensate (making your face oily)... ...or not (leaving it uncomfortably dry and unhealthy). How do you “balance” your face? With:

Toner. I thought this was pseudo-science nonsense for a long time, but it is actually an essential part of your skincare regime. A good toner shrinks your pores, restores your face’s natural pH level, and pre-moistens your skin so moisturizer will be absorbed more easily instead of sitting on top of your epidermis. Stay away from toners with alcohol as they will dry out your skin more than moisturizer can repair. I use Thayer’s Rose Petal Toner. Be wary of this product as it causes some people to break out. Remember, this isn’t a product you wash off-- it will stay on your skin, so if you have sensitive skin be on the look-out for any known irritants, drying agents, or allergies.

Treatment. Serums, essences, boosters, and ampoules. If you don’t have any problem areas, you can skip this step. However if you have redness, acne, dark spots, age spots, wrinkles, or any other number of things you want diminished, you can really benefit from this. I’m a fan of this Vitamin C Serum. Ampoules are concentrated serums made to target specific problems with more aggression and are short-term treatments. ‘Serum,’ ‘essence,’ and ‘booster’ are all kind of the same thing but are toted to have different properties and purposes (though they often don’t). If researching just one term doesn’t come up with anything you like, try the others.

Moisturizer. Good moisturizer maintains your face’s pH level and hydrates your skin, then keeps the moisture locked in throughout the day. If you are washing your face, you need to moisturize it. If you don’t, your skin will either remain desert-dry, or it will produce excess oils to compensate for all the cleansers that removed its natural oils. Because moisturizing is so important while at the same time so detrimental if you use the wrong product for your skin, I’m not linking to any specific product. Please research for your individual needs. A simple google search of, “Moisturizer for oily (or dry/ normal/ acne-prone/ sensitive/ etc) skin,” will produce results. Make sure to read reviews and ingredients. Some particularly good ingredients to look for are Hyaluronic Acid, Aloe Vera, and Centella Asiatica. Avoid products with high pH levels (of 7+).

Sunscreen. This is a necessity in the morning. Prolonged exposure to sunlight (which happens even on overcast days) hastens the aging of your skin, causes sun damage that will eventually be visible dark spots, and increases your risk of skin cancer. If none of your cosmetics have sunscreen and you will be outside for more than 15 minutes that day, I highly recommend adding sunscreen after your moisturizer has settled. Try this SPF 46 sunscreen. It’s a bigger hit to your wallet but it’s worth it to avoid visible-later-in-life sun damage and a visible-right-now greasy face.

Tips:

Wait a minute or two in-between steps before applying the next product. This gives the product time to sink in and do its work before being diluted by other ingredients or possibly even being wiped away when you apply something else.

Don’t rub toners and treatments on like you do for cleansers. Pat them gently onto your skin.

Buy facial sunscreen instead of reaching for whatever sunscreen is in your cupboard. If you are going to be exposed to the sun for prolonged time or in a more intense way, heavier sunscreen may be necessary, but for day-to-day use, more sensitive facial sunscreen is better for the more sensitive skin on your face!

Investing in a hat that shades your whole face is another option to protect your skin from sun damage. Especially if you refuse to wear sunscreen. But wearing both can’t hurt either.

Warnings:

Beware of knock-off brands on Amazon or Ebay. Even if the product looks the same and costs the same, check reviews for red flags. Or just be safe and buy straight from the company’s online store instead of going through a middle-man. Knock-off brands can use alternative ingredients that cause break outs, skin damage, or allergic reactions. At the very least, they will be worse quality products.

Having a clean, balanced face does not guarantee a blemish-free face. If you’ve tried everything under the sun to no avail, you may need prescription drugs to combat your skin problems. Consult a dermatologist if possible. They can also offer expert advice on what products your skin needs so you won’t be guessing.

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Covering

You might not have the time or desire to put on even a little makeup, and that is perfectly fine. Feel free to skip this category. If I’m not going to wear any I don’t usually wash my face in the morning unless it’s feeling particularly gross. If you are going to wear makeup, first wash your face with a water-based cleanser then apply toner and moisturizer before any other products. This ensures any sweat, dust, or other dirt from the bed is washed off and the makeup won’t dry out your skin. After you’ve done that, you can do one of the following depending on your needs.

BB Cream. Essentially a very minimal foundation but, unlike foundation, BB Cream often comes with a host of other skin benefits such as sunscreen, color treatment, or special extracts. I use this MISSHA BB cream with sun protection and soothing extracts.

CC Cream. Stands for color correction cream. An alternative to BB Cream, though often a lighter product with less fancy skincare benefits. CC Cream may not cover every blemish to make your face look flawless, but it can cancel out redness or yellowing. Use this if you only want to even out your skin tone and don’t have any obvious bumps to cover. I don’t use CC Cream but based on my research, my best suggestion is this one from bareMinerals.

Foundation. If one of the creams is still not enough coverage for you, you can apply a layer of foundation over it or use foundation in its place. If you are putting foundation on top of a cream, remember that you won’t need as much product so be on the cautious side and use very little at first. You can always add more if it’s needed. I use this foundation from Colourpop; it comes in a huge variety of shades and is pretty cheap. However, the bottle is small. If you use a lot of foundation this is not ideal for you.

Concealer. If you’re still seeing acne, dark spots, or other skin blemishes, apply concealer to only those areas to cover them up better. Make sure to blend it out. I don’t think this is concealer but this is what I use and love: L’Oreal True Match Powder. Sometimes this is the only product I use because it works great, however since it is a powder it is very drying. Most people I know prefer liquid concealers. My friend swears by this concealer from Burt’s Bees, though it doesn’t offer a lot of shades.

Tips:

As you can tell, I’m not “brand loyal” and I don’t think anyone should be. Don’t assume because one brand’s toner works for you that their moisturizer is the best for you, too. Don’t be afraid to shop around, do your own research, and pay attention to ingredients, not the name on the container.

Long, scary-looking chemical names do not necessarily mean unnatural or harsh ingredients. Do not be scared off from a product just because the ingredient list isn’t five colloquial English words. If you’re concerned, a quick google search usually brings up an ingredient’s cosmetic purpose and whether it is known to cause problems. 

Everyone has different skin types and thus their skins have different needs. Don’t assume the “miracle cure” your friend is raving about will solve all of your problems, too. Keep this in mind especially for people giving one-size-fits-all advice. “Stop using skincare products and your skin will take care of itself.” “The only thing people need is moisturizer after showers.” And so on. Unless they’re your dermatologist, they don’t know you or your skin. Ignore ignorance and focus on what you’ve seen and felt to work best on your skin.

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TL;DR

Morning Routine:

Clean face with water-based cleanser.

Use alcohol-free toner to shrink pores and prep face for moisturizer.

Find the best moisturizer for your skin type and always use it after washing your face with anything more than water.

Apply facial sunscreen if none of your cosmetics have SPF properties. Don’t use sunscreen not specified for the face as it is greasy, heavy, and clogs pores.

If you want, apply BB Cream or CC Cream to cover blemishes and even-out the tone of your face. You can skip this step.

If you want or need more coverage, use a light foundation on top of or in place of a cream. You can skip this step.

Use concealer after cream or foundation to better cover problem areas that still stand out. You can skip this step.

Nightly Routine:

Wash off the day’s makeup or surface dirt with oil-based cleanser.

Clean face with water-based cleanser.

Exfoliate once a week.

Use alcohol-free toner to shrink pores and prep face for moisturizer.

If necessary, use a treatment to target specific problems with your skin. You can skip this step.

Find the best moisturizer for your skin type and always use it after washing your face with anything more than water.

Tips:

Mix up your routine by wearing the occasional mask after cleansing. I didn’t go into masks here because they aren’t necessary, but... they are fun, so if you have them, use them! 

 If you want to do as little as possible and/or buy the least amount of products (I don’t blame you), the fundamentals of skincare are cleansing, toning, and moisturizing before you go to bed. Three products, three steps, once a day. Hopefully that’s doable for you!

❧

As I said above, I’m not getting any money or benefits from this research and product advertising. If you’ve found this guide helpful please consider donating a few dollars as my family and I are in a tight spot financially. Here’s a link to my ko-fi. No worries if you can’t or don’t want to.

I hope this guide helped you understand skincare better. Feel free to send me questions, though I cannot guarantee I’ll be able to help. I’m also open to requests for other guides, or comments with your thoughts on this one. Thank you for reading.