#A bit salty that I'm only thinking of this now and not last year when there was like five Shakespeare Horror journals

[themidnightcircusshow]

You make one joke and suddenly you can't stop thinking of a gothic retelling of the Lancasters

[neteyamslovrr]

RETURN - PT 1

summary: five years ago he left you. left you alone with nothing but memories of your love. so how dare he come back now?

contents: 1.5k words, fem!omaticaya reader, angst, swearing

authors note: AHHHH first chapter i'm so excited to post this guys!! thankuu to all my mooties that helped me brew this series

next

Nothing could ever surmount to the despair you felt that day. The day he looked into your weeping eyes, looked right into your aching soul, and told you he was leaving.

Leaving. You begged him to take you with him. Pleaded with his pained expression to let you stay with him. To take you with him. To walk every journey together.

But he didn’t. He shook his head, pursing his lips that have kissed you for the last time. Crossing his arms that embraced you for the last time. He said no. One simple word that crushed your entire self.

“It won’t be safe, I can’t take you from the forest, this is your home.” No. No he was your home! He was your everything. The last face you look at when you say goodnight to the day left behind you. The one you would run to, so you could tell him everything good and bad. The man you imagined your entire life to be with.

That same man who was running from his home, to never return back to you.

You pleaded with him, crashing onto your knees, wrapping your arms around his torso. Crying into him as you begged to accompany him. How could he leave you? How could he have the heart to tear out yours.

“Y/N…let go.” His deep voice ring deep in your ears. You knew he was talking about your physical grip on him. But it felt so much deeper. Let go. Let go of us. Let go of everything we ever were. Let go of me.

You shook your head desperately, hands still clinging to his body. The rough soil beneath you cutting into your knees but no cut would ever be as deep as the one he had laid into your soul.

It was as if the hands he took to pry your frail body off him were the daggers that were slicing up your heart. Leaving wounds so deep they would never heal. How could you ever heal from this?

You looked up at him, tears letting his cheeks dampen, his face showing nothing but grief as he met your hurt eyes.

“I have to go…Y/N you know I have to.” You did. You knew you had no say in this. Your words were insignificant to begin with.

His figure crouched down in front of you. Wiping the salty tears that stained your cheeks. He saw the way your chin quivered as he caressed your beautiful face.

A salty, sweet kiss was the last one you ever shared with him. A kiss you both cried into, gripping onto each other knowing it was the last time. It was bittersweet. To share a moment so close together only to be ripped apart.

All that connected you both was memories. Memories that now serve you nothing but hurt.

Five years had passed. Five dreadful years.

You were now a 20 year old woman. Adorned with your bow and the physique of a fit warrior. Though no amount of time could ever heal the cuts he left so deep in you.

For the first year, you were nothing but a shell. Never eating, never sleeping. You simply existed. Which was a chore to do without him.

You wished nothing but to stop existing. To stop experiencing every bit of sadness, every bit of grief. To stop mourning the loss of the only man you could ever love.

Tears were your most worn accessory, no one ever daring to tell you they looked bad. Too scared to send you spiralling even more than you already had.

Though, those times you spent rocking in your hammock. Looking at the stars that lit up the night sky, those cuts that ran deep within you, the cuts that caused so pain. They started to seep.

Started to seep blood red rage.

How could he ever have left you? Was he so selfish to not think of the effect this would have on you? Did he simply not care?

How was the one time he decided to act selfishly be the time wounded the one who loved him most? To be so selfish, to claim he would be keeping you safe.

Safe to what? The sky-people that reigned free through your planet. Constantly on the verge of war to aliens that had no consideration for your people. Just like he had no consideration for your heart.

You wanted to hate him. You wanted to hate him so bad, that every memory of him would fade into a blood red image of evil. That every memory would turn into a disgusting thought of a disgusting man.

You wanted to hate him with every fibre in your body. But you couldn’t.

Maybe that’s when everything stopped looking so blood red. When everything dulled out. Nothing mattered, he would never come back.

So with a tainted heart and an aching soul, you accepted that you would never experience the love of your mate every again. Never feel his touch, hear his voice, smell his scent, taste his kisses. You would never be with him.

That’s were Va’tep entered into your life. Barging into your knocked down walls and building a crappy foundation.

Va’tep, Tarsem’s younger brother. One year your elder. A fierce warrior, a man who refused to lose, a man who claimed what was his. And to him, you were his.

Your parents always longed for status. To be high up in the clan. You were their golden ticket, finding your way into the heart of Toruk Makto’s eldest son. They rejoiced in your heart’s residence, rejoiced in the fact that you fulfilled their one wish. They were your number one advocate. Pushing you to train for your rite of passage ever since you became closer with the boy. They worked every inch of their being towards the union between the pair of you.

But the hard work washed away as fast as the waterfall plunged.

Washing away all your dreams, your happiness, your meaning. It washed away your parent’s status, Va’tep being the life guard that pulls them out of the strong currents.

Nothing could ever amount to him though. Your heart resided with someone else as your body laid with his. You felt yourself fill with shame every time you shared a touch. A shiver of disgust running down your entire body. Breaking the vow of your love towards the boy who broke you.

“Where’s your head at beautiful?” That was what he called you. Beautiful. His voice would never be as sweet as his. Never send the right shivers through you.

Va’tep’s calloused hands caressed your cheek, so rough it felt as if he was dragging you with his touch. Everything he did was rough. Rough like the soil you pleaded on.

Maybe this was Eywa laughing in your face. Giving you a man so opposite to the man you craved so desperately. Even after 5 years, Eywa would never let you forget those memories.

Shrugging his hands off your body, he let out a low hiss. One that showed his offence towards your actions. A hiss so quiet, it would only be heard if you cared. But you didn’t. Something else was clouding your mind, taking your attention away from him. And it wasn’t just your past lover.

You made your way towards the growing crowd of people that formed around the entrance of High Camp. Va’tep’s calls after you were silenced by the gasps and whispers of your people that were creating confusion that bubbled in your stomach.

Pushing yourself to the front of the crowd, definitely stepping on the feet of others. You looked for the source of the commotion. Ears perking up and eyes squinting to find the one thing people were gawking at.

Though now as you look towards the source, you wish you minded your business. Everything was coming back. Every emotion, every curse, every thought, every tear. They all fell on top of you, crushing your soul as you let out a small whimper in fear.

The source was making its way towards you. No. No. NO. This can’t happen. This cannot be happening. Feet stumbling as you paced backwards, avoiding looking straight ahead.

Dread filled your entire being. Filling it from your toes until it felt as if it would spill out of you, gurgling in the pits of your stomach. No. No. NO.

Crashing into the back of a person, you were forced to halt your escape. Frozen in shock as you looked at the man who had broken your heart and given it back to you.

Lips quivering, tears pooling in your eyes. He reached his hands towards you. How could he come back? Why was he back? This is all some sort of sick dream. A nightmare.

“My beautiful girl.” His voice was deeper, still so sweet it would cause a cavity. It enticed you. You had been without his voice for so long.

So long…because he left you. Because he was cruel and selfish.

Shaking your head profusely, just like you did that dreaded day. Your hands shook as you pointed at him, an accusatory finger aimed at him as your mind swirled.

“I’m here now.” He should have never left, he should have NEVER left. What a sick fuck. To come back expecting open arms when all you wanted was to never have your arms leave him. “Beautiful? What is it?”

“I am not your beautiful, Neteyam.”

tags: @8resa @ilovejakesullysdick @neteyamsblog @live-laugh-neteyam @reyalvr @trashfox @darkacademictrash @scntfrhs @dreamyescapesfromreality @fanboyluvr @neteyamzmate @oceanstar19 @sharkybabe9

thankyou sm for reading lovelies!! reblogs + replies sososososo appreciated ilysm ily ily

[drunk-on-dk]

With Somebody Else | Kim Mingyu (m)

✦pairing: fwb!Mingyu x fem!reader

✦genre: SMUT (minors DNI) fluff? angst? fwb feels yenno

✦wc: ~3.0 and some change

✦summary: No longer being able to go back and forth with Mingyu, you decide to seek out somebody else.

NSFW warnings under the cut, minors do not read, 18+ only

✦warnings: no specific pronouns used, but reader has female anatomy; pet names (baby); switch?Mingyu; switch?reader; unprotected sex (safety first pls); gyu has a big dick; grinding; mingyu loves praise; a bit of tears; mentions of alcohol

✦a/n: this was a quick lil thing i wrote up because somebody else by the 1975 has resurfaced in my life and that song is what led me to this. I hope you all enjoy! I tried a lil bit of a different writing style, so I'm hoping it still paces ok. As always I appreciate all feedback, likes, comments, and reblogs <3

Mingyu should have been relieved when he found out you were seeing somebody else for the first time. In fact, he thought it was a lie when Seungcheol filled him in on the details that you’ve been dating someone for the past couple of weeks. However, something ached deep down in Mingyu’s chest upon hearing the news, a fake smile falling onto his features and watching the amber liquid swirl around half-melted ice cubes.

Seungcheol’s knowing gaze was enough to break down Mingyu’s walls. “I just can’t picture Y/N with somebody else.”

Meanwhile, you were desperate to break the string that tied you to Mingyu like a tetherball. Unfortunately, it was like a slow tear, with you fraying away at the other end of the string, and finally cutting yourself loose. It was too complicated, Mingyu didn’t want to pursue dating for fear that it would ruin the dynamic of the friend group, but you honestly couldn’t handle anything less than dating at this point. Mingyu was a kind, loving guy, but his lack of commitment frightened you, thus leading you to finally cut your ties as friends with benefits.

It was difficult, at least to say, as you were stuck with Mingyu regardless of how hard you tried to distance yourself. You saw him at Seungcheol’s pre-games, heard about how he made the final kill shot on the video game Seokmin was playing, scrolled past his recent Instagram post, and he just generally clouded your mind, remembering sweet things he’s done for you all these years as a friend.

You knew what you had to do, you had to start seeing other people, and you could no longer go to Mingyu with wishful thinking that you both were something more than just friends with benefits.

Mingyu didn’t believe you when you declared that you couldn’t see him like this again for the first time. He didn’t believe you when you said you two could only be friends. Not when he had you like this, legs wrapped tightly around his waist and cock nuzzled deep inside you.

He refused to believe you, not at all, continuing to thrust slowly into you and nibbling on your tender skin. “You don’t mean that one bit, baby. I know you love this cock.”

You weren’t sure you believed your words either, but Mingyu’s words hit you right where it hurts. You did love his cock, but you weren’t sure that was just it. Suddenly, friends with benefits became way too complicated and overwhelming for you. Hot tears streamed down your cheeks, Mingyu being sure to kiss them away as he repeatedly hit that one spot deep inside of you that had you clenching tightly around him.

“Fuck, I do love your cock,” you moan out, admitting the very least for now, and trying to make the best of what you assume will be the last.

Mingyu’s lips capture yours, tasting slightly salty from the way he picked up your tears with gentle kisses. Mingyu groans into you as your nails dig into his skin, losing himself in the way your walls throb around him as he picks up his pace. He can’t stop kissing you, relentlessly fucking into you as your walls suck him in deeper, loving the way you whimper and moan into his mouth.

He knows you’re close, he knows your body better than anyone else does or ever will, and he’s confident of that. This is exactly why he doesn’t believe you, not believing that you two could ever go back to just being friends. Not when you both make each other feel this good.

Mingyu is calculated, a large hand running down your body until it finds its way to your clit and his rough thumb rubbing at your swollen clit. He knows you’ll finish like this, pulling away from the kiss to watch your face twist in pleasure, taking note of your slightly raw cheeks from your crying. You're still so beautiful, even when you're a mess beneath him.

He’s correct that you were nearing your finish, watching you come undone underneath him as he follows suit, releasing his hot cum inside of you as you both moan and groan in ecstasy.

You both fell asleep in each other’s arms that night, but Mingyu didn’t wake up with you beside him in the morning like he normally does. Maybe there was some truth in your words, but Mingyu didn’t believe you had it in you to hold out for long. Mingyu knew you’d come back to him eventually.

It was annoying – infuriating actually – how you hadn’t looked up once from your phone, Mingyu wanted to wipe that stupid, cute smile off your face. He wondered if it annoyed your friends as well, how immersed you were with your phone that you couldn’t even enjoy the conversations taking place around you.

He realized it didn’t bother anyone except him, especially when Seokmin cooed upon noticing how flustered you seemed from a text message, “Looks like Y/N has the hots for someone finally.”

Mingyu had to suppress the jealously that bubbled up from deep down inside of him, hating the way his heart stammered at the adorable blush and shy smile that adorned your features.

Why couldn’t he do that? Why didn’t he make you that flustered? Why were you sticking to your words? Why were you seeing other people? And why is he just a friend to you again? Was it that simple for you?

Mingyu found himself kicking you gently underneath the table, yearning to touch you somehow as he has been missing it for quite some time now. You looked up from your phone for the first time in a while, your sparkling eyes catching his with a small smile that slowly became a scowl.

“What do you want, Gyu?” You mouthed from across the table, stubbornly taking a sip of your drink to avoid his gaze and knowing that you need to avoid him at all costs.

“Come get some air outside with me,” he’s pouting, and you can’t help but oblige. Even though you’re weak for him, you can’t ignore him since he is still technically one of your best friends.

You should have known that following him outside would have been a bad idea. The second Mingyu had you pressed up against the cool brick wall, whispering sweet nothings with his gentle tone should have had you running back inside the bar to your friends.

“Mingyu,” you pant out, his hot breath leaving a trail of goosebumps down your neck and his hands begin to gently roam your waist. “We can’t do this, I told you we can’t be anything more than friends.”

“You know that’s not true,” he breathes out after pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your jaw. “You can’t tell me you don’t want me as bad as I want you.”

He’s right, you can’t deny the way your hips keen into his, but you also can’t deny that your date is supposed to be picking you up from this bar any minute now. “Mingyu, I can’t, the person I’ve been seeing is on their way to come to get me, and you just have to respect my choices.”

Mingyu is like a kicked puppy, pulling away from you instantly with a look of betrayal, “You’re seriously seeing somebody else?”

“Yes, Gyu,” you sigh out, running a hand through your hair, not feeling prepared at all to have another conversation about lacking the commitment you need from him. “You know exactly why I’m seeing someone else.”

Those words stung Mingyu for the rest of the night. He did know why; he hated that he couldn’t give you what you wanted in the first place and hated that he couldn’t give you the sense of security that you needed. Mingyu didn’t understand why he couldn’t in the first place, he’d love to date you and would love to treat you the way you deserve. Nothing stung more than your words than watching you leave the bar after bidding everyone goodbye, giddy to be picked up by your date. Mingyu couldn’t help the way his hand lingered on your waist a little too long, and you yourself seemed a bit hesitant to leave Mingyu’s grasp as you left.

Mingyu absolutely disliked seeing you around with your new fling. He hated when you’d bring them with to game nights or when you’d simply post a story at a café with them.

He absolutely despised when he had to sit around you two, listening to your melodious giggles and watching you lean in to whisper in their ear. Mingyu just wished he could tell you to never bring them around again because seriously, in comparison to him, he could 100% treat you better and he’d prove it if he could now.

Mingyu would attempt to sneak you away, his charm always winning you over, and he was usually successful in his attempts. He didn’t care if he looked like a dick to your date, he only cared about having you alone and being the one who made you smile.

Sometimes things would feel like they were back to normal, and you two would end up shamelessly flirting, which was always in the background of your friendship even before you two started hooking up. He’d find himself leaning into you, and he could swear that you’d lean towards him too, your lips almost like magnets as you’re pulled towards one another.

However, that moment would be ruined when you’d be swept away by your date once again. All Mingyu could do was watch you disappear into the crowd, feeling like he’s lost all chances at ever truly having you.

Mingyu wasn’t sure what he was expecting when you showed up at his door late one night, storming right past him and welcoming yourself into his apartment before he could even question why you were there.

He couldn’t even get a word out, your hands had already grabbed the sides of his face and you wasted no time pulling him into a hungry kiss, full of passion and desire that you’d been suppressing for God knows how long.

No one fucked you the way Mingyu could. No one knew you the way Mingyu could. No one treated you the way Mingyu could.

Mingyu melted into you, arms wrapping greedily around you as if he never wanted to let you go ever again. In all honesty, he had started losing hope, truly starting to believe that you would stay true to your word of staying just friends.

However, tonight proved him none the wiser, you seemed desperate for him, pushing his tall frame that towered over you all the way to his bedroom. Frantically undressing yourself, Mingyu followed along and pulled off his own clothing as you stripped down to the bare minimum.

Mingyu released a sigh at seeing you in your full glory again, hands reaching out to caress your curves, but pouting when you shove his hands away.

“You’re going to take what I give you,” you command, pinning down his hands and straddling his thighs on his bed, “and you’re not going to complain once, or I’ll take my ass to someone else.”

Mingyu nods desperately, hips grinding up so that his erection can rub against your hot cunt. He almost lets out a whine, immediately noticing how wet you are already, and needing to feel the inside of you as soon as possible, or else he might burst. Tsking at him, you rise slightly as if to warn him, but you quickly drop back down on him, running his length through your folds and letting out a moan from the pleasure of having him this close to you again.

“God, Gyu,” you coo, holding his hands above his head and feeling dizzy at the way he bites down on his lip, your slick gliding against him as you grind down on his length, jumping slightly as the tip of his head brushes your clit. “You were right, I fucking love your cock, and I need it so bad.”

“You can have it, baby,” Mingyu groans, muscles tensing as you restrain him and needily grind against him. He could easily overpower you, but he loves when you lead like this. “Use me, make yourself cum on my cock.”

Your body shivers on top of him, and Mingyu can’t restrain himself from latching his lips on your pebbled nipples, basking in the way you writhe above him, and how your wetness makes you glide so easily over him.

You can’t wait any longer, one hand reaching down as another hand travels to his chest to balance yourself. You guide his length into your folds, your walls taking in his familiar length, even though he’s still too big to take in one go.

Mingyu lets you take your time, his hands tightly grip your hips, loving the way the plump flesh ripples from how harshly his fingers dig into your skin.  Simultaneously, you both let out a moan when you take him in completely, the tip of his head nuzzled deep inside of you as your walls pulse around him.

He attempts to buck up into you, but you hold him down, reminding him what you said earlier, “you’ll take what I give you, Gyu.”

Mingyu obeys, even when you begin to tease him with your hands running up his chest, cheeky fingers pinching at his nipples, and your tongue leaving a hot trail up to his neck. You do all this while rolling your hips against him, letting your walls adjust to his size as you nip and kiss at his skin until your lips finally reattach to his.

Mingyu can no longer keep his hands to himself, taking fistfuls of your ass, squeezing the muscle, and guiding you as you ride him. As much as you’d like to stay in control, you love the slight twinge of pain from his tight grip on you, and the pleasure that comes along with the friction of his length moving in and out of your tight pussy.

The kiss is messy as you continue to ride him, his teeth biting at your bottom lip and moaning when he grazes that spot inside of you that only he can reach. “Fuck, only you can fuck me like this, love everything about you.”

It’s a slight confession that you’ll regret in hindsight, but you don’t miss the way he matches your movements as you ride him, starry eyes staring up at you as you begin to lean back. Mingyu is convinced he’s in love himself, but he couldn’t admit that just now. In the meantime, he soaks in the way you lean back, chest on display for him as you hold onto his knees and continue to ride him expertly.

He swears you’re beautiful just like this (even though you’re beautiful all the time, admittedly). He would have never imagined that his best friend could take him so well, fuck him so well, and make his stomach flutter and head rush like how you do.

Mingyu almost loses it when you pull his body up to yours, the push of your chest against his and the feeling of your skin making him impossibly harder inside of you. You use his shoulders as support, bouncing up and down on his cock and letting his lips work at your skin.

You can tell he’s close, from the bead of sweat that runs down his chest, from the way he throbs inside of you, and from the pathetic whiney moan that escapes his lips. His hands become desperate, palming at your skin wherever he can grab and make you moan. You continue to breathe out praises to him, letting him know that you couldn’t ever get enough of his cock, that it’s perfect for you, and that he’s such a good toy.

Mingyu cums inside of you from all the praise, unable to hold back the hot ropes that fill you as your walls clench impossibly tighter around him. Watching and hearing him lose himself so pathetically beneath you has you finishing with him, your body shaking with his as he fills you deep inside. You both shiver upon lifting from him, watching the cum drip from your folds as you hold yourself above him, Mingyu dropping a finger down to your core to collect himself and pump it back in between your swollen folds.

Mingyu doesn’t let you go that night, hands roaming your body and lips constantly reconnecting with yours until you both fall asleep in each other’s arms.

That next morning Mingyu was relieved to find you next to him. Mingyu couldn’t hide the smirk on his face when you rolled over to cuddle closer to him, knowing that you couldn’t ever hold out from him no matter what.

Seungcheol had kept a close eye on you two these past couple of months, knowing exactly when you and Mingyu had started hooking up, knowing exactly when things got weird (hence the dating), and exactly when you two were back at it. He was sick of you two skirting around everyone, eyeing you both suspiciously as Mingyu shyly flirted with you at the bar.

Seungcheol almost felt bad for the poor guy, knowing he just needed the push to ask you out for real, and knowing that Mingyu was helplessly head over heels for you. Mingyu was alarmed when Seungcheol firmly placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling him away from you for the first time that night.

Leaning toward Mingyu, Seungcheol whispered a warning in his ear, “I swear to god, if you don’t ask Y/N out by next weekend, I’ll beat your ass for making it weird for all of us here.”

Mingyu couldn’t stop the toothy smile that took over his features, sending a wink Seungcheol’s way, “believe me, I’m working on it. There will be no more ‘somebody else’ by next weekend.”

Making sure to stick to his word, Mingyu no longer let anybody else into your heart other than him.

[afreakingdork]

Yeah, I'm not taking this sitting down. Man, I really am not trying to have beef out here, but I refuse to have my good fucking name tarnished. To make a public post about me? Yeah, I'm going to share my side. The facts are as such:

I approached wolf on 12/20/23 about a NSFW commission inspired by one of their works. It would feature my sona and an aged up Donnie. As they mentioned, our initial conversation was good. We went back and forth during the sketch phase and I requested quite a lot of edits. I asked if I could pay them for these corrections.

it was right after this that wolf asked about Donnie's battle shell since it wasn't illustrated.

After this message, I did not hear back from wolf after 2/9/24 until I sent them a follow-up message 3/27/24

I did not hear back from wolf until today 5/6/24.

Now I cannot share the images of the art I received because it is NSFW, but I can tell you that the grey from my sona's body appeared to be missing. The ears of my sona were grey, but the body only looked yellow. Donnie was missing his purple arm marks, and his knee pads were still the same only now they were colored in black along with his mask. From here I will just send the conversation in its entirety.

For reference, this was the reference sheet they had.

I was then sent two pieces where the grey on my sona was very obvious and Donnie's markings were now present with the following text.

Now again, I wish I could show you the pieces, but I can't. I was offered a 50% refund for my troubles, but I was not interested in taking it because wolf had already done all the work.

I will say that I was extremely frustrated with the whole affair so the next part I will admit was a bit salty because while corrections had been made, I wasn't able to give any input so there were still mistakes in my sona's colors (specifically the underside of the tail was yellow instead of white and my grey arm had one side yellow) and Donnie's mask was still black. The following is our last correspondence on my blog.

This would have been the end of it for me. Except, I did not get the email. I waited in hopes it would come in, but none did. Since I was blocked I was forced to reach out from one of my side blogs @thisgoesouttoyoubaby which feel free to check. it's my reblog sideblog that I use to send my bestie memes. It dates back YEARS and is not used for spam.

As you can see I was blocked here.

Now I have been refreshing my email feed waiting. I know emails can take time, but I have no way to confirm if I'm getting my work because I was immediately blocked on thisgoesouttoyou with no response.

So I used another sideblog, this time @plowingon which you can again, freely search, its not a spam blog, but a blog I once made to record the live of my old german shepherd I had years ago when he was getting older.

And wouldn't you know it, I got my first email from wolf at

Coincidentally, only after I sent my last message to them.

Now I'm not interested in hurting wolf's reputation. I think you should still commission them if you'd like. I still am a fan of their art. I have no ill will, but fuck if I will stand by as someone tells me that I won't pay an artist. I never even said i wouldn't pay. I was just frustrated because they wouldn't follow their own three correction rule. They allowed me no recourse, and then they were petty before I could even confirm that I received the email.

Could I have been nicer?

Of course.

Could I have been more clear?

Absolutely.

But there is no world in which I tried to gaslight anyone. I pride myself on my honesty. I was not shy when paying them. I sent payment before we even began. I offered to pay them more and acknowledged I was a needy customer halfway through. So I apologize for this long post, but I wanted to make sure all of this was visible because how dare you call me a scammer, wolf.

You disappoint me.

[thisisourlovestory]

Safe and Sound

Finnick Odair x reader soulmate AU

Summary: you are a victor from district 4. The Quarter Quell has just been announced. How will you cope with the turn of events coming your way.

Word count- 2.8k

Notes: Happy New Year! Hope you enjoy this one. My phone deleted half of it so I had to rewrite it but that worked in my favour and I think it’s better than it was

Chapter 3

The next morning I was awoken by knocking at my door. Assuming it to be Lysander I ignored it and took my sweet time getting ready, taking a long shower under burning water, brushing my teeth vigorously, loosely clipping back the front strands of my hair and slipping on a pale blue dress from the wardrobe in the wall before making my way to the dining area. I followed the smell of freshly cooked bacon and pancakes, my mouth watering as I sat down and took a few pancakes, stacking them up, cutting a slab of butter that melted as soon as I dropped it on top, drizzling sticky sweet syrup over them and layering bacon on top. I grabbed a fork and dug into my towering pillar of food, the salty bacon contrasting with the sugary syrup. I polished it off in no time at all and reached for the piles of jewel like fruits, stacked in tiny ceramic bowls in the centre of the table. I had just bit into a slice of watermelon, pink juice dripping down the corner of my mouth, when Mags walked in with Lysander who flaunted a garish purple and gold striped suit and he began to speak as loudly as ever as I quickly wiped my chin.

“Good morning!” My head hit the table.

“Goodness Y/N, did you not get enough sleep last night?” He asked, looking at me with slight concern.

“I'm fine thank you for asking,” I answered, “Just woke up a bit too early.” I rubbed my head, smiling sheepishly and his gaze softened.

“That simply won't do!” He exclaimed, “We need you to be on top form for when you’re in the arena.”

“Lysander.” I called out softly, interrupting what was sure to be a long tirade. “I… I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for my outburst yesterday. I don't know what I was thinking. I suppose, well I suppose I was just a little overwhelmed by all this. I hope you can forgive me. “ I twisted a strand of my hair in my fingers and he took the bait immediately. I could almost see what he was thinking. Such a kind girl, she must be terrified, very sweet of her to apologise. His eyes gained a look of sympathy as he raised a hand to his heart and walked over to me.

“It's quite alright dear, no need for apologies. I completely understand you must be feeling absolutely terrified of all this. You did such a kind thing volunteering for Miss Cresta, so selfless, dear and I’m sure she appreciates it very much.” I nodded, going back to my food, and he clapped. “Now that's all sorted out, we need a plan for you.” He looked me up and down, assessing me as Mags grinned into her bowl at the look on my face. “I'm thinking we play the innocent card, the fact you were so young when you won will help with that a lot. You are one of the youngest in the games this year after all. We simply must also use the fact that you are a true performer and ballet is such a beautiful art form indeed so,” he turned to Mags, “I propose we paint her as an angel.”

I choked on a piece of watermelon, the apprehension on my face giving way to horror. Mags patted me gently on the back and I straightened in my seat, sending a grateful smile her way as Lysander continued, lost in his own world.

“Of course only your stylist can decide this but I’m fairly certain I can put in a word and if they didn't already have the same idea after watching the reaping then I'll eat my hat.” I eyed the purple monstrosity on his head and imagined it being stuffed into his mouth, wondering if maybe that would be the thing that would finally shut him up. I wanted to scream at him, tell him that I was no angel and he was a monster for finding some kind of pleasure in this, deciding what part I should play as I die. Instead I just smiled slightly and lowered my head to stop him from seeing the tears in my eyes. At that second Finnick walked in and Lysander's attention was immediately drawn to him. I sat silently as he practically interrogated him, asking how he was feeling, if he thought he could win. The answers were short, not letting anything interesting slip but giving enough to satisfy Lysander and fool him into thinking he was basically his new best friend. I zoned out part way through Lysanders rant about what the Gamemakers would throw at us this year- as if we hadn't all been thinking about it since they were announced. Suddenly, I was brought back to reality by the sound of my name.

“Y/N, Y/N.” I blinked and my gaze shifted to Lysander.

“Sorry.” I muttered

“Quite alright dear, you must be tired if you didn't get enough sleep. We're going to watch the games you were both in, for reference.” My mind didn't register the words and I simply nodded before I realised what he had said and my eyes widened in shock.

We watched Finnicks first, since he won before me. From the reaping all the way through to the crowning ceremony. He was confident in the interviews, dressed in the most impeccable suit and tie, clearly designed to show off his beauty, laughing at Caesar Flickerman's comments and responding with his own witty quips, not just a pretty face at all. Then utterly deadly in the arena. For the first few days he had lain low, not much excitement but enough to keep sponsors interested. Then he got the trident, the most expensive gift ever seen, and it was over. District 4 was fishing after all, and it seemed Finnick Odair was born to wield the trident. He captured tribute after tribute in a net and killed them all, offering no mercy. And finally the last cannon went off announcing him the winner. Fourteen years old and he had won, the youngest victor, the most handsome victor, the Capitol darling. Finnick Odair. If he was that good back then, I had no doubt he would be extraordinary now. He had it all as well, the looks which first made the Capitol love him, he was intelligent, and undoubtedly one of the best fighters that would be going into the arena. Mags and I sat there speechless as Lysander congratulated Finnick endlessly.

“And how you used that trident, extraordinary! I don't believe you'll struggle in these games now that you've had ten years to practise.” I could only think of how young he'd been, how he'd been forced to grow up so quickly after, how he'd won- but what was the cost?

Then my games were switched on; I saw myself going through it all over again. The walk up to the stage after my name was called, all eyes on me. The chariot ride where they had dressed me up as a mermaid, all shimmering fabrics and a golden crown. The interview, where Caesar asked me questions about my life back home and I answered quietly, barely audible, playing the sweet little girl as I danced for them momentarily. The arena, my frightened face as the boy from 10 died in front of me, running and hiding. Then a cut to as I made my first kills, I saw the light leave their eyes as the blood left their bodies. Another cut, to the chase and confrontation with Arion, the second the knife left my hand I closed my eyes and the thud as it hit him echoed in my ears.

They showed the crowning ceremony last, I stood calmly on the dais with my hands clasped in front of my body. I had been made to wear a white dress that fell to my knees and had a red bow tied around it. The same red adorned the pins in my hair, shaped like roses, and the single gem hanging from a silver chain around my neck. The significance was not lost on me, young as I was. I had killed three people in the arena so I wore three pieces of red. One for each of them, the crimson colour their blood on my hands. President Snow walked up slowly and placed the golden laurels on my head. He looked down at me, a small smile on his face as I gazed up at him, he whispered something that only I could hear. Words that left me pale and confused, words that could have been good but in the circumstances only sounded like the promise of a life of pain. His mouth moved on the screen and I read his lips.

“The Capitol will love you.” He stepped away and proclaimed me their victor. And it struck me how I looked so tiny compared to him and everyone around me, as the Capitol roared with applause and my big eyes stared out over them, disbelieving and uncertain before the tape ended leaving the compartment in silence.

I shoved my seat back, the legs screeching on the floor, and stood up quickly. Everyone turned to face me as I stayed still for a second.

“Y/N.” Lysander began but I cut him off.

“No, I just, I need to, I can't.” My brain was jumbled, old memories being dragged to the surface unwillingly. So I turned and I ran.

I sprinted along the train, pushing doors open as I ran through the compartments. Avoxes jumped out of my way as I barreled past them, looking at me in curiosity. I came to the end of the train and held my hands in front of me to push through the doors. I crashed through them and fell into the railing. I gripped onto the cold metal as if it was the only thing keeping me in reality, the wind rushed past me and my hair floated in front of me, strands whipping in the cold air. I could barely see, tears blurring my vision and hair covering my face. I took a shuddering breath, letting the cold air flood my lungs, and I broke. I cried and cried and cried. Letting out everything that I had kept bottled up for seven years. I had cried before, that day on the cliffs, that was for the games, for the fact that it was happening all over again for so many people across Panem. But this. This was for me. For every pain I had endured since I won, the evenings spent dancing and singing under lights focused solely on me, the fear of making a mistake stopping me from enjoying it fully, the nights spent alone, unable to sleep because of the nightmares, the days spent wandering around like a lost soul, wondering if it would ever be better than what it was.

So I cried for myself, in one selfish moment I allowed myself to only care about myself. Tears dripped down my face, droplets falling on the railing for what felt like forever. Eventually my throat grew raw and my eyes seemed to run out of tears to cry. I dropped my head forwards into my hands and my eyes glazed over with the memories I had suppressed.

I was no longer on the train headed to the Capitol. I was in the arena. Perched on an icy tree branch, pressed against the tree trunk to keep from slipping off. Hidden by the frozen leaves in the white fluffy clothing they had given us to wear. A tribute ran underneath my hiding spot, running away from something, two others followed chasing him. I immediately recognised them as career tributes, this was all just a game of cat and mouse to them. And they caught him. I shoved a piece of cloth in my mouth to stop myself from letting out any noise that would give myself away and clapped my hands over my ears to block out the noise of his screaming in pain and crying out for help from someone as they ripped into him, their laughter echoing in the otherwise silent forest. A warning that they were on the hunt and if you valued your life you would get out of there as soon as possible.

I had stayed in that tree for the first few days until I was eventually forced to move when the gamemakers released mutts into the arena. Great big slobbering beasts that lumbered along harmlessly until someone tried to kill one. Then all hell had broken loose as they chased tributes up trees and then hurled themselves unrelentingly at them, bringing them down and mauling them beyond recognition. They brought about the deaths of five tributes before they just disappeared, presumably called back out after doing their job.

I snapped out of my daze as I felt someone standing next to me. My gaze cleared as I pushed the memories back into a locked box in my mind. I didn’t need to look to know who it was, the mark on my wrist burning and on instinct I pulled my sleeve down and took a small step to the side to lessen the sting. It eased immediately from the small distance between us and faded to a dull throbbing. Finnick said nothing at my movement and we just looked out over the passing countryside, rolling green fields, trees that touched the sky and vast lakes stretching beyond the horizon. We stayed like that, peaceful, just taking it all in until he finally broke the silence.

“You were so young.”

I smiled bitterly, resting my chin on my open palm propped up on the railing.

“We all were but we had no choice. They just want to watch their games. And they don’t care if innocent children die so they can have them.” I laughed slightly. “Then they get the one that lives.” I shook my head, my fingers tightening on the rail, the cold metal biting into my skin. “They get to kill us then they get to keep us.” I turned around, leaning backwards onto the railing and looked up, watching the clouds move slowly away in the blue sea of the sky. Then the Capitol came into view, towering buildings taking up the skyline, marring it with grey,

“I'm going to go back in,” Finnick said, following my line of vision, “You should as well.” With that he stepped back into the train, not sparing a second glance as I watched him walk through a set of doors and out of sight. I relaxed as he left and stayed in my position, head tilted skywards, eyes closed until I felt tiny drops of water on my face. I opened my eyes to see rain falling, a light drizzle but enough to dampen my clothes and hair, I laughed slightly and walked inside, the warmth hitting me in a blast. I hadn't realised how cold I'd been before but the heat warmed me and my clothes quickly dried off. I looked over my shoulder as I walked through the doors that slid open, the rain pattering on the windows lightly, a last glimpse of normality.

I quickly made my way through the train, hearing Lysander screeching at unfortunate avoxes to find me as if I was missing and he had no idea where to find me. I stepped into the compartment to see him looking frazzled, he immediately caught sight of me standing unsurely at the edge of the room and gave a dramatic sigh of relief.

“Not to worry everyone she's here.” The train jolted to a stop. “We have arrived.” Lysander practically squealed and eyed me.” Dear, you should just fluff out your hair a bit, and try to look happy for the cameras.” I nod my head once and plaster a smile on my face. He nodded in approval.

We made our way to the doors. Finnick and I stood either side of Lysander and Mags was just behind us. I can see people through the windows already, screaming and shouting with excitement.

“Now everyone, remember this is the first time they will see you so make sure to leave a good impression. That means smile and wave, blow a few kisses if you have to.” Lysander told us, focusing his words mostly on me. A bell rang and he quickly turned around to me, perfecting everything he could see wrong, the tiniest hair out of place, my sleeves at different lengths and pushing my cheeks into a smile. Facing forward just in time as the doors slid open and we stepped out into the masses.

Taglist:

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[neverchecking]

Yoo, can I request sub!wild w/ reader? i was thinking like reader could just be teasing him by sucking on his neck, marking him up, ykyk and he's below them desperately trying to grind up against them. bonus points if he comes untouched >:)

have a good day!! or night!! or evening!!!!

You have a good day as well, anon! You absolutely can request that. I mean my favorite boy, being a big ol' sub? Sign me the F U C K up. This is also kind of an apology since my last Wild bit kind of, admittedly, wasn't up to my own standards. It was rushed and not as polished as I normally like. It was deleted twice and I was just over it at that point but that's no excuse. Anyway, I hope this makes up for it, Darling!

And you know I'm going for those bonus points.

Smut, so 18+, MDNI.

Smut CW: Wild is a subby baby boy, you edge him a little, he busts a little prematurely with no touching (BONUS POINTS), and you know me. He cries just a little.

His Home

The difference in the way people treated him varied. It varied a lot. It ranged from people taking one look at his scars and treating him like some form of monster that had escaped from it's cage to people automatically bowing to his every whim-- deeming him some form of warrior who had faced battles far past their comprehension. Some people tried to hide their whispers behind cupped hands and side glances while others outwardly made their disgust known.

It was just the way it was.

At least in his Hyrule, however, he had a safe haven. A home. A place he could go to, to hide and recollect himself enough that dealing with the public was palatable once more. The civilians of his Hyrule knew he was the Hero, yes, but that didn't stop them. They still talked about how he had failed. How he was a century too late. How it didn't matter what he did, because they had grown accustomed to the Calamity. That he had done it for his own pride when that wasn't the case at all. Of course, he knew why he did it. He did it to avenge the fallen champions. He did it to free Flora, who had been fighting non-stop for a hundred years. He did it to ensure his home remained safe and sound.

Because you were his home. You were his sanctuary. You were the one to collect him into your arms and hold him close, gently whispering soft comforts into his ear, the one who was humming a half-remembered lullaby to sooth his nightmares. You remained a stone pillar of patience and comfort for him to follow. Like a beacon calling him to his Goddess.

Then he was dragged away from his home. He went kicking and screaming, make no doubt about it, but it didn't stop that Fraud from pulling him away. He was dropped with his sword brothers, which was...fine (Fine was a good word for it). But they weren't you. They had nothing on you. They could dream of being half of the comfort you were.

That wasn't even the worst of it, however. No, the worst was the face that he had now lost his safety blanket. His one hold over his own crumbling sanity was eons away and the only way he could even hope to reach them was through luck alone and Hylia's filthy grace.

Neither of which he would bet any amount of rupees on. If he were a betting man, that was. But he wasn't.

He wouldn't bet anything on making it back to you in a timely manner.

But life had a way of surprising him, he supposed, as he blinked bleary eyes open only to find familiar surroundings. The stale smell of the forest, the cool feeling of dew and dirt under his palms, even the drifty breeze flowing through his hair. It was all enough to remind him that while he wasn't quite home just yet he was close. Closer than he had been in so long.

He could practically taste you on his tongue already, the salty tang of your sweat; hear the lustrous harmony of all the sounds he could pluck from you. Just thinking about the heat of your skin under his palms, smooth and unmarred unlike his own, had him buzzing with epinephrine. He was sure even the others could pin something was different with him as the minute they entered Hateno they had wandered off to the inn and allowed him to wander off. Which was perfectly fine with him.

He had it all planned out as well. He'd get home, scoop you into his arms tight enough you would never doubt his love for you. His absolute devotion to your being. How nothing, not even time itself, could separate the two of you. Nothing could keep him from you.

Then he'd pepper an absolute flurry of kisses all over your face, neck, anywhere he could reach, just to hear your giggles ring out in pure glee. Feel your arms wrap around his own neck, fighting to return the affection only for him to make the action nearly impossible. How could he break apart from you long enough?

Of course, he would, only to press your lips together in a heart stopping kiss. Just so you could steal his very breath from his lungs. And he'd let it happen. Just to make you happy.

It didn't happen. The reason you and him paired so well together was because you surprised him at every turn. At any given point you could turn him onto his head and throw him for a loop. And he lived for it. The excitement and the rush of following you into unknown waters. It was so addicting.

This was all proven when instead of him trapping you in his arms, you pounced first-- as if waiting for him by the door. You didn't even give him the chance to act before wrapping your arms around his neck, crashing your lips together in a flurry of desire and fondness. Distance does make the heart grown fonder or something, he didn't know. His brain had began the shut-down process, too overwhelmed on emotions and a lack of blood.

When you dragged him to the stairs leading to the loft, positively filthy promises leaving your lips making him stutter. His heart was in his throat, pumping wildly in an effort to make up for all of his blood rushing to his cock-- which stirred to life in his pants.

He hadn't even known he was so pent up until you were pinning him to the bed, hips a familiar weight against his as you dragged your clothed core over his own. It was like being hurdled into the deep end within seconds as something hot and fiery and untampered roared to life in his veins.

His hips bucked wildly, aching for some sort of friction that he desperately needed. He would take anything you gave him, of course, but couldn't you take mercy on his poor, tattered soul? He would slaughter Ganon a million times over should you just lower yourself a bit more. Just give him a little more, please.

The feelings of your lips on his neck had him jolting as his own hands latched onto your hips in a positively bruising grip. Teeth gently nipping at skin before your molten tongue was lapping at the indents, soothing the slight sting. It was all so erotic, positively prurient, and he could barely contain himself. He knew he was whining. High keens full of begging and pleading pleas. He knew he was whimpering. Bordering on too overstimulated to actually do anything, but not stimulated enough to actually burst. It all felt tight and frustrating, with salty tears pooling in the corners of his eyes.

"Wildflower, please-" He cried out, nails clawing up your back as you moved from the hickey you had previously been working on to an unmarked patch of skin. You hummed against him before gently snapping your teeth on the skin again.

It was too much, but not enough. Just enough to keep him right there, but not enough to teeter over, not yet. At least you seemed to take into account his plea, humming in consideration against his skin before pulling off with a positively lewd pop. You weight settled onto his lap, at long last, before you were returning to your previous endeavor.

It only too one roll.

One roll of your hips, plump and perfect, with just enough weight to stoke his cock in just the right way. One salacious rock of your lower body, pushing against his own in a rush of lust and heat. One roll to have him absolutely shattering underneath of you.

Just the push he needed to have him jutting up into you, in an embarrassingly juvenile move, crying out in pure ecstasy with fat tears finally rolling his cheeks. It was an uncomfortable feeling to be reminded of how tightly wound up he was, but to be reminded of how tightly around your finger he was wound? It was pure bliss. To know that he was yours in such a way that you didn't even have to touch him to have him coming undone was salacious enough to have him remaining hard.

To know that you were such a comfort to him, his home, to have him this `devout to you was enough to have him restarting his entire being as fast as he possibly could if only to pin your stunned form beneath him.

He had to show his faith somehow, didn't he?

[drabblesandimagines]

Sweet & Salty

I'm feeling a bit sad today so wanted some comfort... Sebastian x (afab) reader, Stardew Valley, Fluffity fluff Warnings: Mention of recreational drug use

-

It’s been a day. You’d sat down heavily on your porch steps, trying to keep the tears at bay. You should probably go mope in your bed, instead of staring at the land that is causing you so much distress. Despite your carefully placed scarecrow, you must’ve miscalculated the distance because the crows have still had a go at your most recent plantings and that’s hard-earned money down the drain - again. You’ve been here two months now and, surely, by now you should know better. The farm has been somewhat transformed since you arrived - a mass of weeds, stone and dead branches - but it’s nowhere near how you remember it in your grandpa’s heyday. He would’ve never made such a rudimentary error in his scarecrow placement.

Some of the fences around your crop patches have started to erode too – it won’t be long until they need replaced, but you’re trying to save up your wood supplies to put in a coop from Robyn. You desperately want to add chickens to the farm as eggs would be steady income – or at least you reckon – but you also don’t want them pecking at your crops alongside the crows, so having a fence seems important too. Your endless to-do list swirls around your head again. Why’s everything so hard?

It's not just your failings on the farm on your mind, but also your lack at making any real friends around here. Shane glared at you this morning as he headed off to work. That’s not unusual, despite your best efforts of a smile and a friendly greeting. Then Haley looked you up and down, judging your dirty dungarees. You’d only popped into town to get some seeds from Pierre’s. It didn’t make sense to get changed… Elliott is sweet but locked away in his cabin most of the time, Emily in her own little world… Sebastian, Sam and Abigail have invited you to play pool with them, but they’re such a tight-knit group and you always feel like you’re missing out on the joke, especially when you were partnered up with Sebastian. He’d been teaching you how to hold the cue correctly, leaning over you, his breath tickling your ear. Sam and Abigail kept nudging each other and whispering, but you couldn’t catch what about and it was clear Sebastian was becoming irritated. You’d begun to think they were making fun of your abysmal pool skills.

Ugh. Your emotions are a rollercoaster and the twisting pain in your stomach reminds you why – stupid period. It emerged with a vengeance this morning. It had stopped in your last months of JoJo Corp. There was no chance you were pregnant, your last intimate relationship fizzling out a year previously, though you’d taken tests just to be sure. The doctor in Zuzu City said you were stressed, burnt out… that it would return once you were feeling better in yourself. So why had it returned now, of all times? You feel more stressed and burnt out than ever before, regretting ever moving here. Why did you think you could become a farmer…?!

The barrier finally breaks and you let out a sob, hugging your knees.

To your shame, there’s a scuffing footstep and your heart stops as you look up, worried who’s seen your breakdown.

“Sebastian?” You sniff. You’re tempted to rub the tears from your cheeks but maybe he hasn’t noticed in the evening light. The black-haired man is standing there looking sheepish, a brown paper bag from Pierre’s clutched in his hands.

“Er, hey…” He’s not meeting your eyes. Poor boy probably wants to run. “Sorry, I… I was just leaving Sam’s and I didn’t want to go through town and see everyone, so I thought I’d take the scenic route back home through your farm…”

“Oh.” You mumble, waving him on. “That’s okay. Go ahead.”

He takes a step as if to go on his way, but then hesitates. “Are… Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you plaster a smile on, which you’re sure makes you look ridiculous as the stupid tears are still flowing. “I’m just being silly. Don’t let me keep you.”

He stares at you for a moment, before a sympathetic smile graces his lips. “You’re a terrible liar, you know?”

“I’m not ly- Ow!” You flinch as your stomach cramps terribly and you squeeze your arms around it, hoping in some way it might alleviate the pain.

Sebastian is suddenly at your side – the paper bag from Pierre’s dropped to the ground. He’s kneeling down on the first porch step with a frown on his face. “Whoa, are you hurt? I can get Harvey…” His hand hovers over your arm,

“No, honestly, I’m fine…” You try and wave him off again with one hand, the other arm still wrapped around your stomach.

He stares at you, a raised eyebrow. He seems to be putting the clues together – the wincing, clutching your stomach, the tears… He nods, making up his mind and gets to his feet, picking up the discarded bag from Pierre’s as he does so.

“Come on, let’s get you inside.” He offers you his free hand.

“Thank you, but I’ll be okay. You get on home…”

“Farmer, I know I’m probably not the person you want to see right now, but let me help you out, okay? I can’t go home and just leave crying on your porch.” He waves his offered hand again. You look at Sebastian, hesitantly. He looks genuine, at least, but there’s something a little off about him tonight… Heck, you’ve already made a fool of yourself enough, so what’s one more thing?

This time you accept his hand and he easily pulls you to your feet and leads you up to your door. He opens it – you’d easily adapted to the habit of leaving the front door unlocked since moving to Pelican Valley.

You go to open your mouth, to tell Sebastian thank you, but he can go now. You’re inside, you’ll go to bed and pretend this never happened.

“Sit down.” He orders, pointing at your bed. “You like hot chocolate, right?” You wonder how he knows that, how he knows you have a stash. Had you mentioned it at the saloon before? “I’ll make you a cup.”

“But you don’t know where…”

“I’ll find it. Sit!” He pushes you gently towards the bed and you do sit, keeping a wary eye. To be honest, it is quite easy to find your cups and kettle. Robyn had advertised an extension to you but you don’t even want to think about the price and the materials needed. For now – perhaps even for the rest of your life - you’ve got a cupboard filled with crockery and silverware. The fire’s roaring away, you’re thankful you’d lit it earlier to try and make it cosy ahead of going to bed later on. The cabin always had a slight chill at night. Sebastian retrieves a mug and spoon, scooping the hot chocolate powder into the mug, fills the kettle with water from the jug you keep besides the cupboard, before taking it over to the fire to heat.

“Do you have a hot water bottle?” He asks over his shoulder.

“Huh?”

“Hot water bottle.” He enunciates.

“Y-yeah, I think it’s under my bed. Let me…” Before you can bend down, he drops to his knees and Sebastian is now crawling under the bedframe to retrieve it. You pull your legs up off the floor to the bed, not sure what to say.

He reverses back out, holding the fluffy hot water bottle in the air triumphantly, and gets back to his feet. “Finally, where do you keep the snacks?”

“I don’t have any. Sorry, I wasn’t really expecting to entertain.”

“Not for me,” a chuckle – it sounds a little odd coming from him - “..for you!”

“For me?” He’s acting so weird.

But he’s not listening, already rummaging around the brown bag from Pierre’s. He walks over to the sofa and empties the contents besides you – there’s a couple of packs of chips, cookies and candy. “Ta-da!”

You look at the assembled junk food and back up at the black-haired man, noticing his blood-shot eyes.

“You’re high.”

Sebastian laughs again, rubbing the back of his head. “Guilty. Is that a problem?”

“No, it just… explains a lot.” You wince again as the kettle on the fire whistles. Sebastian grabs the mitt you keep nearby for that exact purpose and places it on his hand, removing the kettle from the fire and placing it down on the hearth. Methodically, he pours some hot water in the hot water bottle, tightening the cap, before pouring some in in the cup he retrieved, stirring the hot chocolate powder until it dissolves. Once he seems happy with his work, he brings the two over to you on the bed.

“Okay, since you worked out my thing, it’s my turn. Time of the month, right?” He flops down next to you on the bed, ripping open a bag of chips. “My sympathies.” It feels surreal as he holds the bag towards you and you take a handful – maybe junk food would make you feel better, and the warmth of the hot water bottle is soothing too now against your sore tummy.

The only sound for a few moments is the rustle of the chip package and the crunching of said chips. You take a sip of hot chocolate, probably a weird combination at that moment in time, but it’s working.

“Sebastian…”

“Mm?” You’ve caught him with his mouth full.

“How are you so good at this?”

“Erm…” He swallows. “Well, I guess cos I have a sister and a mom… and a friend named Abigail.” He replies in a teasing tone. “Maru and Abi usually just get super pissy though. Mom’s the crier.” Sebastian leans forward and grabs the blanket off the end of your bed, throwing it over the both of your laps in a smooth motion. Who knew he could turn into a right chatterbox? “Wanna watch some TV?” He picks up the remote control and turns it on without waiting for a response, flipping through the channels. “Do you have a preference? Nothing deters Abi from horror, Mom and Maru go chick-flick mad…”

You burst into tears again.

“Whoa, okay, no TV! That’s fair too.”

“N-no, it’s n-not that.” You let out a shuddering breath. “Why are you being so nice?”

“Because we’re friends…?”

“No, everyone hates me here.” You know you’re being irrational now, but the floodgates have well and truly opened.

“Come on, you know that’s not exactly true.” His face looks serious now.

“It is. I don’t know what I was thinking – I worked in customer support, why did I think I could farm the land? I’m going to be broke by the end of winter if I lose another batch of crops and this town is so tight-knit that they’re never going to like me being here.”

“I like you being here.”

“No, you’re just saying that because you feel sorry for me.” You go to take another handful of chips, but he snatches the bag out of your reach indignantly.

“I am not.”

“You are.” You clip back.

Sebastian lets out a huff in frustration and he acts before he can even consider the consequences. He puts a hand on the side of your face, turning it slightly and presses a gentle kiss on your lips for a moment or two, immediately causing your tears to cease.

“Would I kiss you if I didn’t like you?”

“I…” You don’t have any words.

He swipes his tongue over his lips. “Mm, salty. That’s not how I expected our first kiss to go, I’ll be honest.”

“Our first kiss?” Your face is on fire. It has to be on fire, why else would it feel so hot?

“Yeah, well, I told you I like you, didn’t I?” He grins, before it drops. “Though I’ve just realized that you probably don’t like me like that, I’m high, and now I’ve made this a hundred times wor-…”

You cut him off, caressing his lips with your own for a moment.

“No. I like you too.”

“Well, that’s that settled, then, isn’t it?” He leans back, a smug look on his face before he grabs the packet of candy. “Shall we see what a sweet kiss tastes like next?”

-

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi I'm also running an event for x reader fics to celebrate 200 followers, so please check it out and send in your requests.

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Welcome to the Drabble-A-Thon!

What is it?

From September 6th to September 15th, I will be offering 1,000-word drabble commissions for $5 through Ko-Fi!

Why is this a thing?

My job pushed back my start date by a month and a half, and I've noticed that my 3-year-old phone's screen is starting to burn out (my last phone lasted 5 years and I am incredibly salty about this). I want to take the week I'm off to try and get some outside work to start saving up to replace it and stay ahead on bills despite the delay. 

How does it work?

If you make a donation of $5 on Ko-Fi, and give a 1-2 sentence description of your drabble idea in the donation note, I will write a 1,000 word* story! The story will be posted publicly on Ko-Fi, and cross-posted to Tumblr as well**. These will be done on a first-come first-serve basis, and I will keep a post on Ko-Fi and Tumblr updated on what number submission I am on. Because I don't know how many prompts will be given, I can't give a firm estimate on when the pieces will be delivered, so the queue will be the best way to see when your request is being worked on! 

*The finished drabble will be a minimum of 1,000 words, if I go over by a bit, that is on me, and just a fun bonus for you! 

**Ko-fi has strict guidelines for NSFW material, and anything rated "Explicit" will only be able to be posted to Tumblr. If you would like a PDF copy as well, please provide an email address to send it to in your message!

Are there any rules I should know about?

First and foremost, please make sure that you read my general commission guide which can be found here. Keep in mind I do not write Sub!/Bottom!Tomura or Dom!/Top!Dabi. If you have a question about your concept that is not answered by the guidelines, please feel free to DM me on Tumblr before donating! 

In addition, please note that 1k isn't a lot of words, so try to keep concepts simple enough to be executed within that amount of story! 

These drabbles also cannot be add-ons to other existing stories. For example, no drabble prompt can be for a story set after the end of Changing Currents, or an exploration of Dabi's time on the streets before Tomura adopted him in A Cat by Any Other Name. These are for stand-alone pieces in order to keep things simple and not conflict with the canon of my existing works! 

Can I donate more than $5 to get a longer story?

No. This is a drabble-a-thon! While you are welcome to donate however much you would like, every $5 only gets one 1k word story. If you would like to donate $10, then you are welcome to put two drabble prompts in your donation note which will then both enter the queue and be posted! Every multiple of 5 is eligible for a new prompt! 

If you would still like a longer story from me, then you can always DM me about setting up a full commission! 

I want to participate, but I want to remain anonymous/I want to be tagged by a name other than the name used for the donation.

No problem! If you want to remain anonymous, simply put your name as "Anonymous" in for your name/nickname, and you can then type your prompt in the message box. You can send this message privately, and only I should be able to read your prompt! 

If you want to be tagged by your Tumblr username, then you can also add that in your message and I will tag you appropriately when your prompt is posted! 

I want to participate but I don't have any idea what to ask for!

Coming up with story prompts can be hard! You can send in 1-2 sentences of your idea, or you can simply send in a kind of AU, a rating, or a kink (or a few of them 👀), and let me take it from there! If you really, really can't think of anything at all, then just send in "Free Style", and I'll come up with something to fill the drabble! This is meant to be fun, please don't feel any pressure!

I want to participate, but I don't have any money!

That's absolutely okay! Please do not feel any pressure to participate! Money is tight for a lot of people right now and your needs, safety, and comfort come first! 

My question wasn't answered here! 

Please feel free to DM me or send an ask on Tumblr! I'll do my best to answer! 

Thank you so much to anyone who chooses to participate! I can't wait to see what stories we're able to bring to life! 

[bookwyrminspiration]

I'm confused

Why do you hate Watson so much

What did that dog do to you

Let me take you back to the summer of 2023.

It's lovely, peaceful, @camelspit's just started the first best keeper character bracket. We're starting with rounds of five, and June 16th, we've got a rather odd bracket: Alina, Oralie, Ella, Gisela, and Mr. Snuggles.

Roisin asks in the tags for the stuffies not to win, so I go haha, I don't really care about any of these guys except Snuggles. I have my own Mr. Snuggles and a fondness for dragons, so I vote for him. Don't even think of it. I don't even think I reblogged it. Mr. Snuggles wins

He has another round, a 1v1. I vote for him again, don't think much of it. his opponents are piddling. He wins

Then we get to round three. He's against Verdi, and at this point i've gotten attached--I love this lil dragon. But Verdi poses a real threat, because when I vote he's losing. I start campaigning. Cath becomes my enemy. It starts escalating.

But Mr. Snuggles pulls through, victorious. And I have now very publicly pronounced and committed myself to this bit.

We carry him through round 4 and round 5, but then we face round 6: Fitzroy vs Mr. Snuggles. It's cruel, it's twisted, it's exactly what Roisin would do.

BUT! We miraculously manage to tie the round so they both proceed.

Finally, in round 7, the very last round before finals, he loses to Sophie. i'm sad, but honestly the fact he made it to the last four is super impressive and unexpected? i'm proud

You'd think this'd be the end of it.

But Catherine, @everliving-everblaze, started a Best Fitz Duo Poll while the best character poll was running.

And one of the duos is Fitz & Mr. Snuggles.

He sweeps his first round, but that's not noteworthy.

What splintered the fandom was round two: Fitz & Mr. Snuggles vs Fitz & Alvar.

At this point in time Snuggles is still in the best character running, energy is high--I'm committed to this bit. And I don't think he stands a chance, so I don't feel bad pushing for him.

I was wrong.

It escalates.

Fitz and Snuggles stand a real chance of beating Fitz and Alvar, the fucked up sibling duo of the series. The origin of wiityispb. The blueprint.

I start trying to backpedal.

It doesn't work.

They win.

All because I decided in round three of the best character poll to throw myself behind snuggles and work the fandom up. I'm in too deep now; I can't back out--Summer (@when-wax-wings-melt) will never look at me the same. People are outraged.

I've tied myself to this stuffed dragon.

Who knows what could've been, but due to some funky tagging, I don't see the next round and it distributes oddly, and Fitz and Snuggles lose in silence to Fitz and Sophie.

A quiet end. At this point Snuggles is both out of the best character and fitz duo poll. The fandom calms and moves on, but I've set a precedent for myself. I'm The Snuggles Guy

And a few months ago, a year later, Roisin decided to have another best character poll.

To make it more manageable, there's a preliminary round to determine who will be in the poll for real. Roisin, who I can only assume was salty, ensured Snuggles would be out from the get go. It was a remarkably close fight, though. Watson, The Foster Family dog, also lost his poll. But who gives a shit about him

I'm sad, but hey, there's the comeback round! Any characters eliminated have a chance to be voted back into the running if they get enough support--there are 9 spots available.

I reblog asking for support for Mr. Snuggles, and, because I'm not a dog person, I decide to throw in a fuck Watson for fun. Who cares about some random dog we haven't even met in this fantasy series. There's some banter

The comeback round ends. Mr. Snuggles does not make it. Watson does.

I threw everything behind this dragon through two polls, tested the limits of my friendships, tied myself to him soul to soul. He was nearly a finalist, he nearly beat Sophie in the preliminaries.

And he lost to some fucking dog???

Mr. Snuggles didn't even make it to round one?

Unacceptable. Not on my fucking watch.

I will see that dog in the dirt if it's the last thing I do.

Thank you for your time.

[docholligay]

Choose your own adventure: July

I cna't speak to the quality of it, but I did get this month's DONE. I'm going to be honest with you: I worked really hard at this. I know the transitions are a little wonky and I'm not sure the blocking works, but that's not the point of this exercise and STUFF HAPPENS HERE. 4300 words.

“My client has passed a cognitive test that puts her beyond the understanding of an six year old, Doctor.” 

They might have been a bit too hard on Ollie--Oliver, she supposed--for having the audacity to go to law school and learn how to sound posh. It didn’t mean he was too good for the East End. Aunt Lily and Uncle Clive were bursting with pride. It was only them, she and Parvati and Florrie and Raj, who had decided it was wrong of him. Who picked at him.

“And whatever you may believe, they are capable of parsing reality and imagination,” he looked over his glasses at the doctor, “even in working class London.” 

Right. She definitely owed Oliver an apology. A series of apologies, more like. He was terrifically nervous. He’d half-lied his way to Lena’s side, and severely tested the legitimate half. He was in over his head. 

But wasn’t that the most Oxton thing of all, to be in over your head and plow ahead anyhow? 

The doctor smiled. “Of course. But given the traumatic experience she’s had, Mr. Parekh, it’s reasonable to assume that--and Lena, this happens even to the strongest of people--”

Condescending prick. 

“There might be some level of instability. The mind is a fragile thing. Hallucinations--” 

“I’m not cracked.” She shook her head. “I’m not.” 

“You alright over there?” 

“Hearing and seeing things is a common part of--” 

“Lena.” 

“It ‘appened, and it was real, and I’M NOT INSANE!”

“Well,” Doc leaned over and picked up the knife, “I wasn’t gonna say that, I was gonna say you look like you got off the world a minute. But, okay, you’re not insane. Understood.” 

Lena wiped her face. A thin mist of sweat. She shook out her hands, tried to stop the trembling. She hadn’t thought of that day in years. It came to nothing. He’d been removed from her case shortly after. There wasn’t even a note in her personnel file. No one thought that. No one thinks that. 

“I’m all right.” 

Doc’s eyebrows raised, accompanied by a huff. “Yeah, you look it.”

You’ll feel better when you eat. You’re hungry and tired, is all. You don’t feel it, but you are, I promise. Right. What had she even heard? She hadn’t heard anything, nothing, whatever it was that said to hurt Doc--if it had even said that, she couldn’t remember all that well, it can’t have been that--had just been a memory or something fluttering thorugh her mind. She had a busy mind. Always had. Right, right. This place is safe. There’s nothing to be afraid of here. 

Lena’s eyes flicked upwards to Doc, and she took a deep breath. She rubbed her hands together and offered up a shrug and a smile. 

“Need to eat something. Sorry.” 

Doc cut off the prolonged stare and nodded down to the pot in her hands. 

“Can I interest you in some intensely mediocre soup? Thank god canned food’s salty as it is or we’d be up shit creek. Bland as all hell, still.” 

Lena jumped down off the counter and picked a handful of spoons out of the drawer. 

“Brilliant. As an Englishwoman, I crave disappointment.” 

She looked down at the spoons. All perfectly matched, all with a letter engraved heavily into the end of the handle, all covered in tarnish. She frowned a little at it. Fareeha wouldn’t like it, the spoons looking so dirty, even if it were only tarnish. The last thing she needed right now was to hear another lecture about impressing the representatives of the Kaioh family, as if they hadn’t already decided what they were going to give. As if it weren’t just all a game to see what they could get out of it. 

But Fareeha was still her friend, even if she was aggravating and fussy. This meant a lot to her. Fareeha did a lot for all of them, Lena included. She scrubbed at the bowls of the spoons with the edge of her t-shirt, a few of the bits of greyish-black fading under the effort of her scrub, but a thin veil of tarnish remaining over the silver. The handle would have to stay black as it was, but Lena would do her best for the business end.

She helped Doc gather up everything and headed back to the group, trying to ignore the glint of the knife under the moonlight, and the quiet humming song of something she could not quite identify. 

___

It wasn’t much, but it was dinner, and that would have to be enough for now. If anyone wanted to question us on it, they could damn well get something else themselves. 

“I ask you something?” 

She met her eyes to mine, unwavering and intense even as the fire drew out them out bright. They were nice. I’ve always liked brown eyes. I’ve made a study of the ways they’re different from each other, like people always seem to do with blue eyes. Hers were that sort of russet color, that looks a little reddish when the light hits it just right. 

“I guess.” 

I shrugged, and put another ladle of soup into a bowl, and passed it the whole thing to Minako, who took it from my hands with a strange sort of caress. She stared at me as she walked back over to Haruka, like she wanted to pin me to a mounting box and cut me apart. 

“Where did you come from, exactly?” 

“Montana. It’s in the US, right up by Canada. Yellowstone and all that.” 

“That’s not what I meant.” 

I knew damn well that’s not what she meant, but I’m not used to having the point pressed on me in these sorts of situations. I don’t even know how to handle it. This is the weirdest dream I’ve ever experienced, and the longer I sit here in the house with it, the more real it seems. The more I want to go home. That’s a risk, isn’t it? You fall into a story, and you never want to leave. It builds itself around you, and it tells you the things you want to hear. It’s a horror story. 

I suppose that would make more sense if I was having even the slightest good time. 

Lena shook her head and grinned. “Not trying to be--you’re the only one I don’t know, right? ‘Ere.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket. “This is me girlfriend. Girlfriend, like I’m in school.. Partner sounds odd, though. Rubbish, not to have the right word for ‘er just yet, but I will, and soon. I ‘ope. Emily. I miss ‘er. Funny, innit? ‘aven’t even been gone too long.” 

She didn’t have to tell me who it was. Not that Lena could have known that. A picture of her and Emily, bright-eyed, red-headed, the two of them nestled together under an errant bough of mistletoe in what could only be one of a dozen Christmas markets. Lena’s bright blue and burgundy scarf--her cousin had made it, I knew--was well-loved and pilling, but it looked cozy against the chill, and complemented perfectly Emily’s purple knit beret. They looked so happy. 

“She’s pretty.” 

“Right?” Lena took the phone back from my hand. “Don’t tell ‘er she’s too good-looking for me, even though it’s true. Less she knows, the better.” 

She let out a bark of laughter, which shattered into a million pieces and echoed off every surface in the room. Mina and Haruka turned to look. Fareeha and Angela paid no attention, normal as the peal of the bells of the church down the street. The smile stayed. Whatever weird thing she’d been worried about in the kitchen seemed to have been forgotten in the thought of Emily. 

“So, you ‘ave anyone? Like that?” 

“I’m married, yeah.” 

Lena looked at the fire, thinking for a moment and then letting out a little huff. 

“Right so, I love ‘er. I would do near anything, for ‘er. And she loves me. I want to marry ‘er. I’m proposing in a few months. I want you to know. I want you to know she loves me, and I don’t want ot ‘urt ‘er, and that’s why I’m going to ask you something I don’t really want to ask. Makes me sound mad, it dones, and it will, but I ‘ave to.For Emily.” 

“Do you want my blessing, or--”

She turned back and gave me that same wide-eyed, intense look. 

“Are you ‘ere to kill me? To ‘urt me?” 

Holy shit. I felt a sledgehammer hit my chest, and I desperately looked away from her, trying to take in a deep breath that wouldn’t come. Staring at the shadows thrown on the wall. No, I’m not here to kill you, but you do have to die. Not today. But not that far off, either, if I’m right about where you are in life. I have to take you from Emily, and from Winston, and from your entire family who adores you. Your arc is complete and your death is essential to Fareeha’s larger growth as a person, I hope that comforts you as your body falls apart beneath you. 

I felt a little bit like an asshole. 

I chuckled, though. “Ain’t you supposed to be a big Overwatch agent? What exactly am I gonna do? I’m a writer. No,” I clapped her on the shoulder and squeezed, “I’m not here to kill ya. Not even a little bit. I like you, for starters. I like you a lot. 

“That’s outside of the--you want to know what I’m doing here? I saw a once in a lifetime opportunity to see people I’d been writing about, in a human sense. That’s all. I lucked out, and I know it’s weird as hell, but fuck, hasn’t everything today been? ” 

Lena laughed, rocking back on her heels. “Course. It’s only--never mind! Nothing!” 

I did it. She believed me. She’s not stupid, but I am telling a kind of truth, and that helps. She shook her head, and went to go grab the spoons to distribute so everyone could finally get eating. She stared at them a long while, ran her finger over the deeply carved letter, noticed the glint in the light as she turns them. I wondered where she got those up from. They look brand new. 

She called back to me as she gave Fareeha a spoon. “If I die, it’s me own fault, right?” 

“Sure is!” I called back. 

I am an asshole, after all. 

___

Annoying.

“Boy, Overwatch has a crack culinary team, huh?” Mina’s nose wrinkled as she looked at the soup. “Not that I was expecting much. Leave it to England to make starving look good.” 

Nothing. Lena didn’t even look up at her, busy looking at the spoon in hand, biting her lip as she held it up to the light, bright silver and gleaming in the firelight. Lena just shook her head and put it  down on the table. 

Lena had struck her as having a little more pride in her home, or at the very least firmly being one of those people who would say a million bad things herself, but take it personally if it came from somewhere else. She hadn’t expected the dedicated study of old flatware. 

It was probably some kind of weakness in Mina that made her want so badly to crack open every single person she spent an extended period of time with, but to her mind, it was like being able to see color. If you never had it, you could see how someone would never miss it. There are always plenty of other ways to identify objects. But once you opened that door to Oz, once you had the ability to rifle through people’s minds and see what built them, the level of control you had over any given situation doubled. At worst. 

But she didn’t need it. She kept telling herself that. She’d become like one of those people who’d started usin Door Dash for the deals and now believed it was the only way to exist as a working person. She’d forgotten how to make a sandwich. But intellectually. 

She looked around the room as everyone quietly ate the soup. It wasn’t as bad as Mina had pretended, but it wasn’t good either. Sort of like the general mood of the room. 

Haruka was across from her. Generally an easy read, but was always hard to know exactly when she was going to blow. She was tired and stressed and feeling intimidated by the general strength and athletic prowess in the room. Her ability to run fast and throw herself at a problem was less impressive when the tour guides they had could bench press her, or out manuver her. She hated being bossed around by anyone but Michiru and Mina, anyways. She looked forward to when Haruka’d had enough, it would add some spice to the situation. 

Lena was eating her soup in a way Mina could only describe unnecessarily aggressive, slurping it down and taking another ladleful. Mina watched as she closed her eyes, took deep breath, stretched, and smiled, giving herself a little nod and a quietly mouthed pep talk. Whatever had been bothering her when she had walked in, she had made some decision to sidestep it. 

Fareeha never seemed to wander too far away from Angela. Some of it made sense, because Mina had Touched Angela: Dead parents in one of those character-defining sort of tragedies, workaholic, haunted by the people she couldn’t save, all that shit. If she wanted to get to Fareeha, she’d have to get to Angela. 

Doc was leaned against the dark wood of a small series of shelves in the corner, pulling off a bottle of some dark liquor and ….She was nervous about something. More than anyone else here, there was some quality of her that didn’t quite belong. It was almost like Mina was looking at someone who was cut out of a magazine and pasted into the room, the edges of her not quite fitting onto the backdrop. 

And why didn’t the Touch work? 

It had never failed her before. She’d never seen nothing. Sure, a talented Seer could block to some degree, maybe even completely, on their best day. But that was the feeling of a door being shut in her face, not of pawing at the empty air. Not of the darkness. It wasn’t that she blocked her history, it was that she had no history to look at. Even something from outside the Sol System would show her--

Or…

No. 

Minako wasn’t about to think that. In no way could that be the answer. It was a gift, given--no fuck that, it wasn’t a gift, it was a trade. It was a salary. For all the things Mina had been asked and would be asked to give up, for all the tough calls she’d be forced to make, that was the exchange. She could see people’s pasts, she could dive into their feelings, she looked at people the way a watchmaker sprung open the back of a Rolex. 

It couldn’t be gone. The moon couldn’t take it back. The house couldn’t touch it, she’d used it in some Dark Kingdom labyrinths before. No. Impossible. 

Turns out, an impossible thing can still make you sweat. 

She turned to Haruka. Had to call her off first, or she’d just make things worse, and everyone was already careful, already wary. 

“Do me a favor?” 

“Yeah?” She looked up from her unimpressive soup. 

“No matter what happens, stay here. Don’t get mad. Don’t defend me.” 

Haruka looked at her moment, trying to mount some kind of defense against whatever was about to come, her mouth slightly open for the words that would not form themselves into being. She shut it, and then shook her head, resigned.

“I hate it when you say shit like that.” 

“It’ll be fun.” Mina began to stand up. 

“No it won’t. It’s never fun.” She called after her in a stage whisper. “It’s never fun! Minako!” 

Minako walked. No, she didn’t walk. She glided. She swanned. She wheedled her way across the room, delighted with herself, until she stood in front of Lena. She leaned up against the chair and let her breasts just sort of enter Lena’s space. Casually. It wasn’t enough to get any of Lena’s attention, as apparently the fire was so much more than her tits could ever hope to be. 

“Hey.” She cooed, moving to touch Lena’s arm, missing the skin at the last moment from an errant twitch. 

“Yeah?” Lena leaned back and looked up. 

“What are we gonna do about,” Mina sat on the edge of the chair and leaned in, “Sleeping arrangements?” 

Lena stopped for a minute, stared up at Minako, tilted her head neatly to the side, and slipped out of the chair, her back to Mina completely. 

“Few pieces of furniture in ‘ere. You can push the chairs together, make a bed. I’ve done it before, it’s not bad. I’ll take the floor,” she was moving toward Fareeha, she had seen what Mina was doing and didn’t want it. It made Mina angry. It brought out the artist in her. Life was complicated that way. “Rug’s softer than me mattress at ‘ome, I’ll be grand.”

Okay, strike one. No big deal. She was a professional, of course it was going to be harder to get to her than your average idiot in any given bar. 

Mina came up next to her. “I was thinking we all might feel a little less crowded somewhere else. But of course,” she reached her hand toward Lena, brushing the edge of her sweater with her fingertips “I’d feel better if you were with me.” 

Lena dodged, but turned to face her. “Can you not?” 

Big, sad eyes now. Slumped shoulders. “You don’t think I’m pretty.” 

Didn’t work. Lena’s eyes narrowed. 

“I think you’re nineteen, I have someone, not looking to cause an incident, and also, I think you’re lying about wanting anything to do with me like that. Don’t know why, but leave it, alright?” She stepped away from Mina, more forcefully this time, “Fareeha..” 

“I’m tired of you thinking you can order us around!” The time for the seductress was over. It was time for the brat. “We deserve your respect!” 

Fareeha stepped forward. “You have it, Aino-san.” 

“Oh don’t Aino-san ‘er.” Lena chuckled as she perched on the edge of  chair. “Over ‘ere, like she’s on the pull, after me, don’t know what san means, right, but I don’t think it’s that.” 

Mina tried to keep herself from smiling. It was a joke, a little barb meant to annoy Mina, but Mina had been watching. It was a defensive strike. Mina’d been pressing on Lena ever since they’d started this little campaign--for sport, mostly, but she wouldn’t say no if Lena wanted to--and she’d seen that it was finally wearing on her. Whether she was afraid of the dark or irritated by all the logistical issues or just tired and hungry, finally she might have been able to push Lena far enough. 

She thought it would be seduction, but this would work just fine too. Any port in a storm. 

“I’m after you??” Mina grasped at her chest in mock horror. “You’re the one who won’t let us leave! You’re the one who wants to sleep in the same room as me. Are you hoping I’ll strip down? Is that why you built the fire so hot?” 

Fareeha put a hand out. “It is safer here. Commander Oxton is a profession--”

Mina lunged forward to Lena. “Why should we all stay here? What’s the point, why can’t we get separate rooms?” 

Lena leaned toward her. Closing the gap. “To start, it’s freezing, if you ‘aven’t noticed, and it’s easier to keep one room warm. We’ve no idea when this’ll let up. We don’t know what’s round ‘ere, neither. Close up one room, watch your exits.” 

Mina was sick of flying blind. Bring on Door Dash. She had to make Lena touch her. If she couldn’t convince her to do it out of affection, she could almost certainly pull her anger. It was so close, Mina could feel it. Her mind fluttered, ideas running through it like flipping through a book, looking for the passage she remembered. She’d read a little bit about Overwatch before she’d come, hadn’t she? Just keep nipping. It’ll come. 

There was a whisper, something like a touch on her shoulder. A sound Mina had never heard before, in the back of her head, like the echo from the back of a cave. London. Remember the news, on a high rooftop. Remember the shot? You saw it while you were drinking coffee on the train. She will remember it, I assure you. You can win this.

“I just don’t get the point of it all.” She stalled for time, reaching for that image. It began to come into focus. 

“The point of it is that we ‘ave a responsibility to protect you. Protect you. Nothing else, not listening to your bloody whinging, not fulfilling whatever fantasy you have. Just protecting you. I am doing that, alright!?” 

There it is. Stop on this page. A small grin came across Minako’s face as she fired back. 

“What, about as good a job you did protecting Mondatta!?” 

The air went out of the room. Direct hit. Lena’s fists balled up, her teeth gritted, body tensed, a spring off the back leg. Here it came, she was ready to catch it. It would hurt, but all knowledge was got by an inch of pain, at least. Mina closed her eyes.

She felt Lena whoosh by her, narrowly missing her, the thick velvet chair next to Mina falling to the ground. In a show of restraint Mina would not have predicted, she had vented her temper on a chair that had probably seen at least three kings. Lena backed away from Minako, slow, careful steps away as she tugged at the back of her hair. She turned away as Mina watched her eyes flutter from anger to pain. 

“I! --I don’t!” 

Go in for the kill. 

Something animal filled her in that moment. She smelled the blood, and she attacked. Did she even want Lena to hit her, then? It had been like something inside of her, someone inside of her, coming through her, pushing through her, digging into Lena’s flesh. She felt it rush around her, speaking in tongues as she saw Lena shrink before her. 

“Protected him by moving out of the way of the bullet? By saving yourself? Are you proud of the job you did there? Did your family like it, showing the world that the Oxtons are cowards when it comes down to the wire?  Aren’t we all at least so fucking glad your dad never lived to see that! Imagine what he would say to you.”

Lena stood, silent, in the middle of the room. Doc whispered a swear into her whiskey. Everyone was waiting. The stage was clear for her, wasn’t it?

“You should have died that day, and everyone knows it! Everyone!”  

“Mina.” It was Haruka’s voice. 

Haruka had never done this, in all the years they’d known each other: Not when she was picking at Michiru, not when she told usagi to stop crying, not even when she was going after Haruka herself. The single fact of Haruka Tenoh telling Minako Aino, in one word, to stop, that she had gone too far, suddenly filled her with a deep and pervasive shame. Why hadn’t she stopped?

But it was too late. The light was out of Lena’s eyes. She backed toward to door, searching. Lena’s sorrow filled the room like smoke, posioning the air, inescapably squirreling into every crack, into Mina’s lungs. 

Fareeha reached her hand toward Lena’s shoulder. Lena twisted away, her back to the wall.

“It isn’t--”  

“Don’t.”  Her voice was choked; she cleared her throat.  “Please don’t.” 

She ran her hand through her hair, and went through the door, shutting it firmly behind her. Lena had taken neither candle nor match. Her flashlight lay on the table by the fallen velvet chair, its burgundy plush ominous in the firelight and silence. 

Fareeha stood quietly, and turned her eyes to Mina, sharp as a hawk’s. 

“I do not want, or need, your money. I will take you to the airport in the morning.” She pulled her shirt straight. “If I have to walk you there myself.” 

Fareeha picked up the flashlight and the faded blue backpack, leaving the room quickly, her footsteps fading into the darkness. Minako sank into the loveseat, hands folded in her lap, still not quite believing what had happened. She could have done it, of course she could have. But it didn’t feel like she did. 

Angela, a tear running down her face, poured herself some of Doc’s whiksey, taking the bottle straight out of her hand. She stood in front of Mina, shaking, and spat out the words. 

“You. Are so. Cruel! You should know shame.” She stomped to the other end of the roomand flopped into a chair, breathing heavy. 

She wasn’t wrong, all told. It wasn’t necessary to do what she did, and even haruka, sitting next to her, couldn’t even look at her. No one wanted to look at her, because she’d acted like a complete asshole. Lena hadn’t even done anything to her other than not be Touched. Other than be in the wrong place while Mina wondered what was wrong with this house, or with Doc, or both. All that was true. And she was ashamed. 

But Mina thought of one thing, sitting there. 

She hadn’t known Lena’s father was dead. 

Who else is going to find Lena and where are they going?

[josephlikesmusic]

Live Show Review! The Saviors Tour (Denver)

I've been wanting to start reviewing the different shows I go to but haven't gotten around to going to one since I started this blog, until now! Green Day has been my favorite band for like 6 years now, and between the full album plays and how much I love the singles off of Saviors, I just had to go to this.

I had heard of the Linda Lindas before, but I constantly forgot to go check them out. I was pleasantly surprised to find out how young the band's members are, with the drummer being only fourteen years old! It's great to see musicians my age finding success in the music industry while also making great music. I love the whole cat theme the band had going on, and they all had great stage presence for how new of a band they were. I would love to see them live again, and wish the best for them in their future.

I've been a pretty big Rancid fan for a few years now, especially their album "...And Out Come the Wolves" and I loved the selection of songs that they played, although I do wish that they were given a longer set time. I know that Green Day was doing a massive set and that the Smashing Pumpkins are a bigger draw, but I would've loved to hear a few more songs out of these guys. Hopefully I'll be able to see them again in the near future as a headlining act!

I had seen the Smashing Pumpkins before, but I will say that I enjoyed this show a lot more. Maybe I was just disappointed that they didn't do an encore at their hometown show when I saw them headline at the United Center in Chicago... Either way, I always forget how many Smashing Pumpkins songs I enjoy until I go and listen and this was yet again the case with this show. I do wish that the band had a bit more stage presence, especially Billy Corgan, but their kind of music also doesn't really call for much. I wouldn't mind seeing Smashing Pumpkins live again, but I also don't think that I would go out of my way to watch them perform again. Two of their shows is enough for me lol.

Now for the big guns: GREEN DAY!! If you know anything about me then you know I'm the biggest Green Day fan ever actually. At one point I was in their top 0% of listeners in my Spotify wrapped, and used to be the top last.fm listener until people started to leave them on loop 24/7 to beat me (totally not salty about that). This was my third time seeing Green Day live, and I feel like every time they out-do themselves just a little more. It was INCREDIBLE seeing both Dookie and American Idiot live, and I just have so many videos of myself sob-singing along to about half of the songs they played. Seeing some of my favorite songs that I thought I would never have the chance to watch live was actually life changing. From Having a Blast and All by Myself off of Dookie, to Homecoming and Letterbomb off of American Idiot, I really was having the time of my life. I was also glad that I was able to see the singles from their latest album, Saviors, but I will NEVER get over the fact that they debuted 1981 the SHOW AFTER I SAW THEM LIVE LAST SUMMER. (They actually hate me personally) I am so grateful to be able to see that amazing set, Green Day really made a night that I will never forget and I can't wait to see what they do next. (PINHEAD GUNPOWDER PLEASE ANNOUNCE A US TOUR PLEASE COME TO COLORADO)

[bokettochild]

Okay, so I'm writing things from Sky's perspective for the first time in what feels like years (maybe it has been years? the last notable Sky POV I can remember is from Feathered which I finished I year and a half ago) and I have thoughts!

Legend is not the person who resents the goddesses. My boy is literally besties with Din and Nayru, probably Farore too. Who knows about his thoughts on Hylia honestly, but you know who is salty about Hylia? Sky. Sky is so salty about Hylia. The goddesses toyed with him and Zelda like puppets with no cares for how it would destroy them, only that it would turn out how they want. Hylia is the definition of "end justifies the means" in Sky's mind, and he resents her for it.

Sky does not appreciate anyone making any implications that he is dating Hylia, in love with Hylia, or anything of the sort. My man will throw down with anyone who tries to say that Zelda is Hylia. They are two different people, thank you very much! His brothers are not him, and Hylia' incarnations are not her.

Sky finds relief in the Chain because he is not the only hero anymore. On skyloft, he's now an important person, a hero and not just a knight. He did not sign up for this, he's fresh out of school and he is overwhelmed by the expectations and responsibilities that come from being the hero. Being with the chain is a relief because they're all heroes too.

Sky is experiencing burn-out. The sleepiness? Yeah, that's the burn out, Gifted kid burn-out maybe, maybe just exhaustion from the expectations on him, but it's burn out. he's glad no one gets on him for it now. The others laugh at it a bit, but no one thinks he's lazy and it's nice to be allowed to have his rest without consequences now.

Sky is more used to talking to Fi than anyone else, so he's developed certain ticks and cues that he used on Fi to express things (like asking her to stop talking or to redirect her when he wa suncomfortable), but which don't translate as well to talking to Hylians. Most of this is because it involves fidgeting with his sword, not an acceptable method of communication between friends.

To continue the above, Legend, who also talks to Fi, DOES catch some of the ticks because he uses them too. Different, yes, but they're both pretty similar on that front (to the point it's nostalgic for Fi when she talks to Legend because he reminds her of Sky). Does this mean that they understand certain cues the others don't even notice? Yes. They don't even realize they're doing it but it's part of how they've learned to get along already; because they use similar communication styles that no one else does so it adds a whole different level of easier communication between them.

Sky has trouble with communication with Time specifically. he's wary about discussing some topics (their adventures, the goddesses, his sword) but also just struggles to read Time in general.

Sky admires Twilight's connection with Epona and views their dynamic the same way he would a fellow knight and their loftwing.

Sky is a bundle of unresolved and unprocessed issues that he hides under soft smiles and copious amounts of affection.

That's all for now, but yeah. Sky's got more depth than I'd initially thought and my gosh this boy has so many emotions? So many issues too, I don't know if he'll be recognizable compared to the sweet sleepyhead I usually write him as, but I kinda like him being more... mature? Aware? I like him being like a real young adult still finding his feet in the world :)

[billthedrake]

GOALS (PART THREE)

Story idea by and collaboration with top son Turner (bimgm36@gmail.com).

[SCOTT]

I pulled off Austin’s crotch, tasting his salty cum on my tongue. This was a quickie, but we both felt excited to be sneaking a fast blowjob in after my evening session.

I had to get home for dinner and was already cutting it close with time. But I had to bring something up. "Can I ask you a personal question, Austin?" I ventured.

"Sure," he replied as he pulled his sweats back over his now satisfied genitals.

I nodded then continued, "Well... you're a very good looking young man. And you're into older men. I'm just wondering why you're single."

His eyes met mine in a challenge. “Long story short. I only top. When older guys are into younger men it's usually the other way around."

"I see," I said. I didn't know all that was entailed with gay lingo, but I had a pretty intuitive sense of what a top was. "I don't think I'm ready for that, Austin. Sorry."

He nodded, accepting my answer. But his voice got husky. “Just you sucking my dick gets me off, Mr. D. Big time.” He leaned back in my front car seat. “You’ve gotten some real skills.” I could tell he was trying to decide if I'd had any experience the last few weeks.

"I had to google 'how to suck dick'," I admitted.

He smiled. I could tell he wanted to stay and talk some more. “All right, Scott... I know you gotta head off. See you Friday?”

“Yep,” I said, reaching down to arrange my erection in my trousers. I hoped Kelly would be up for sex tonight.

[AUSTIN]

We changed our sessions to either the very first of the day or the very last. I couldn't decide what I preferred more. But when Scott came over to my place around 6:00AM, I always had a thick piece of morning wood for him. As well as a fresh pot of coffee.

He'd regularly wear a suit, especially now that fall was transitioning to winter and business casual days were fewer. He'd sit on my couch and I'd let him slowly worship my cock as I stroked his short silvery hair.

He'd gotten a lot more skilled and was now comfortable deep throating me, though he preferred slightly shallower, more rapid suck strokes where he could provide the right amount of suction.

The sensations were incredible but it was the psychological part that always got me going. "Fuck," I growled. "You're too good to me, man."

"Yeah?" Scott hissed, his voice heavy with spit as he pulled back and stroked my saliva-wet dong in his fist. "I like spoiling you, buddy."

Scott Delahunt had gotten a lot more comfortable with this part, too. Being verbal, saying things that would turn me on. Openly acknowledging his desire to service me. He let go of my prick and ran his hands up my hamstrings to cup my strong ass. Then he leveraged his head to take me back in.

God, this was insane. Deep throat bobs up and down my rod as he was still in suit and tie.

"I'm cumming, Mr. D!" I hissed. "Oh fuck, I'm cumming."

He moaned around my cock excitedly. Wanting my sperm. I felt light headed as I gave it to him. "Jesus fucking Christ,"" I growled. My legs buckled a little bit and I finally had to pull out when Scott's sucking grew too intense. "Easy... fuck!"

Scott laughed. "I take it you liked that, buddy."

I ran my hand through his hair. "You have no idea," I hissed. I loved how this 51-year-old man ate up my praise. Even more than in the gym. It was like sex and working out were his two mid-life passions.

"You wanna stroke off?" I asked. Anytime Scott asked me to suck him, I would. Sometimes I'd take the initiative to go down on him, too. I enjoyed giving him the kind of blowjob his wife didn't. But increasingly I encouraged him to stroke after swallowing my cum, or while sucking me. Scott teased me at first for my control issues but eventually admitted he got off on getting me off.

"Yah," he answered now, and I let my dong hang half hard inches from his face. He was jerking fast now, working that spike with his fist as he focused on my cock, only occasionally looking up at my naked body or my face. "Can I taste it again?" He muttered.

I pressed the tip against his mouth and felt his lips draw me in. He knew better than to do a full fellatio, but he just held me against his tongue, my cock softening but still full. That was the trigger. His body tensed and he spurted into his hand. I gently patted the back of his head.

"Nice," I hissed, then pulled back.

I always set aside some towels for him to wipe down while I went to pour him a coffee. Depending how long he sucked me, we usually had 10 minutes to talk, and we enjoyed that post-sex time, too.

"It's your birthday next week, right?" Scott asked as he sauntered into my kitchen area.

"Yep," I replied. "Wednesday."

He gave me a smirk and said as he reached into his suit pocket. "I was gonna wait to give this to you."

He pulled out a small envelope. Too small for a birthday card, and I'd barely taken it in my hand when I realized what it was.

"Is this what I think it is?" I asked, amused and excited both.

"Box seats," he said with an excitement of his own as he read my reaction to the Titans tickets I was pulling out. "And I booked two nights at the Renaissance."

"Jesus, Scott," I said. "That's too much."

My words didn't offend him. "I like treating you, buddy. At least you show me some appreciation when I do."

Something about his honesty made me relent. "All right. As long as you let me do something big for your birthday." I knew then and there that I'd be saving up for something special for the man.

"Deal. Only you're gonna have to wait till February for that."

[SCOTT]

I picked up Austin just around four on Saturday. He was going out with his buddies the night before to celebrate his birthday, and my intention wasn't to monopolize his weekend. Besides, I had some household stuff to work on and get done. I worried Kelly would be upset that I was spending my weekend in the city. But as fate would have it, she'd gone to New York to visit our daughter who was taking the train from her college to meet my wife.

"So..." Austin asked as we checked into the room. It wasn't a suite, but it was a nice room and this time I'd gone for the king bed. "Are you going to tell me why I had to bring nice clothes?"

I told him the name of the restaurant I'd booked. "Tomorrow will be a burgers and nachos kind of day... I wanted to treat you somewhere nice tonight."

He kind of shook his head, maybe like he thought I was showing off for him. But he just unzipped his garment bag. "If it means I get to see you in a suit, it'll be worth it," he said.

"More of a sport coat," I clarified, pulling out my attire for the evening and hanging it up in the closet. I turned to face him. "What do you say going out for a pre-dinner drink?"

He stepped up to me and placed his hands on my chest. "You think maybe the birthday boy could get a blowjob first?" he asked.

"He could..." I answered. "But if you wanna wait, I have a surprise that will be worth your while."

"Yeah?" he asked excitedly. Already his hands were moving up and down my zip-sweater in a seductive gesture. "What is it?"

"What kind of surprise would that be?" I chuckled.

"Does it involve you in just a sport coat?" he teased.

I shook my head. "That really is a turn on for you, isn't it?" I asked.

He nodded. Not embarrassed, but with a playful horniness in his eyes. "One of many. But it's also about the man in the clothes."

With that, Austin leaned in and kissed me.

"I missed that." We actually said it at the same time, which made us laugh.

I ran my hands up his side. He had been wearing a Tennessee sweatshirt under his puffy winter coat. I could feel the hard brawn beneath it. Austin was jacked when I started training with him, but he was always working on his body and had gotten even more muscular over the last year and a half.

I gripped his lats and winked at him. "I'd love to see what this hot muscle body looks like all dressed up."

We each got dressed for dinner, barely able to take our eyes off one another. And we clearly, silently enjoyed showing off the boners in our underwear as we stripped down. I had never been self-conscious or concerned about my cock size. Austin's big dick made me worried at first how I measured up, and maybe there's the inevitable comparison when it's two guys. But Austin seemed genuinely into me, into my cock. "I don't want another me, Scott," he’d say. "You're fucking perfect."

So I enjoyed showing it off to him now, showing how hard my prick could get in my briefs before I slipped on the navy wool trousers over them.

And I enjoyed watching Austin pull his pressed dress shirt over that bare, ripped chest muscle.

"I'm afraid I don't have a lot of Sunday best clothes," he apologized, as he slipped his blue blazer on. "I've bulked up some since I last wore this," he laughed.

Indeed, while blazers usually had a looser fit, this was snug. Not obscenely, or like a schoolboy who'd outgrown his clothes. But on the verge of that. I stepped up and smoothed out the shoulders of the blazer. "Maybe this weekend we can go shopping for a new sportcoat for you," I said, stepping back.

Austin actually blushed. "Come on, Scott," he objected. "Already... this weekend is so much."

"It would be my pleasure," I asserted. "Every young man needs a nice suit and a nice coat in his closet. I know you're a sweats and workout gear kind of guy, but you never know when you'll need one."

He looked at me. "You like spoiling me, don't you?"

I nodded, feeling a little chastised. "Guess I do."

He gave me a wry grin. "It's cool. I probably should object more," he laughed.

I gave it some thought. "I guess I'm a people pleaser. Kind of my personality."

"In the bedroom too?" he teased.

Something about Austin made me feel comfortable about opening up. "Especially," I smiled. "Even with women... I love the foreplay, love getting a woman off."

He smirked. "You sure a pre dinner BJ isn't in order?"

"Sure I'm sure," I shot back. "Trust me on this, Austin. It'll be worth the wait."

He nodded, giving me that naughty smirk as he reached down to cup his crotch. "Counting on it, sir," he said.

I was worried dinner would be too romantic a vibe, but I think we both appreciated the quiet of the venue and the space between tables. We talked about sex some in hushed voices, but mostly it was more serious conversation topics.

"You hear from your parents for your birthday?" I asked.

Austin shrugged. "Yeah, my mom calls me bright and early every birthday and sends me a care package... I keep thinking I'll outgrow that, but it's a nice tradition."

"Your dad?" I asked.

"I got a text," he said sullenly.

"Sorry, buddy," I said.

He seemed resigned. "It is what it is. I guess I've not been the easiest son to get along with."

"Bullshit," I interjected, which made Austin smile.

He seemed to think something over then flashed one of his killer smiles as he ran his finger along his beer glass. "You probably didn't sign on to hear about all my issues with my Dad."

I nudged his ankle beneath the table with my shoe. "I love learning more about you, Austin," I said. "Every part of you."

He gulped. I knew he very much liked that idea. "This is pretty intense for an affair, Scott," he said.

I'd been thinking about this, too. A lot. "I think of you as more than an affair," I said quietly. "I just feel bad you have to take second fiddle to my marriage."

His blue-gray eyes seemed excited and emotional at once. "I don't feel second fiddle, Scott. For real. I'm just enjoying our connection." He lowered his voice. "I, um, I guess I have some specific turns ons, different from other guys, and you drive me crazy."

"The older thing?" I ventured.

"For starters," he said. "I'm really into successful men. I guess it's that power thing," he laughed. He flashed his eyes back up at mine. "That weird you out?"

"I don't know if I fully get it," I admitted. "But like I say, I love hearing what makes Austin Samuel White tick."

He smiled then added. "You know, I don't know your middle name."

"Preston," I replied.

"Anyone ever call you that?" he asked.

"No," I said. "And you better not either."

We enjoyed the relaxed pace of dinner. I asked Austin if he wanted to go out after, but he walked with his hands in his winter coat pocket and shook his head. "I've been real patient, Scott," he said.

"Ready for your surprise?" I teased. Loving how excited he was.

"Been ready for three hours now," he mock grumbled.

I took a look around to make sure no one was in ear shot. "So," I started in a quiet voice. "I know you like to top."

He almost stopped in his tracks. In any case he was genuinely surprised. "Fuck! You mean?"

I nodded, loving his reaction. "You think you can show me the ropes?" I felt vulnerable, but also thrilled to be taking this step. I'd been giving it a lot of thought, and I'll admit to getting turned on by the fantasy. Whether reality would match was another question.

"Can I...!" he hissed. Then, "You're a virgin right?"

I nodded. "Fraid so."

He patted my shoulder and kind of held on some as we walked. "Happy fucking birthday to me, huh?" he hissed.

I laughed. "Happy 25th, buddy."

I began to get nervous when we got back to the room and hung up our coat and blazer. Austin picked up on it. He walked over and wrapped his arms around my waist and gave me a soft kiss. "It'll be great, Scott," he said in a sultry version of his gym-bro voice. "Your turn to trust me."

I nodded. I wanted to do this. For Austin, but also for myself. I'd already learned so much about myself sexually with this young man. I wanted to see if I liked this.

"I read online," I admitted. "And got some stuff to prepare."

"You did now, did you?" he replied. Amused. "Well don't let me stop you." Reading my face he asked. "Would it help if I went down to the bar for the next half hour?"

"Maybe," I admitted.

"All right," he whispered.

By the time he came back, I was freshly showered and face down on the bed, lube on the side. I'd had to read about which one to get, too. I'd never done anal, with a guy or a woman... the closest I'd got was porn stories and videos about men penetrating women in the ass.

I didn't know exactly how guys did it, though I'd watched some gay porn recently too. I didn't know what position Austin liked. But as I heard the key card reader click and Austin walked in, I heard the approval in his voice.

"Nice," he said. Already he was unbuttoning his dress shirt and kicking off his dress shoes. "You look so fucking hot, Mr. D."

I was about to say something about how he was partly responsible for my looks, as my trainer, but instead I looked back and smiled. "Just go easy, OK?"

"Yah," he grunted as he pulled out his belt and undid his trousers. He wasted little time stepping out of them, no longer careful to fold them or hang them up. He was just as quickly peeling those boxer briefs down to show off his cock. I couldn't believe I was about to take something that big. "I had to hide my hardon at the bar," he laughed.

His hands ran along my calves then he got up on the bed and crouched forward. I don't know why I wasn't expecting a rim job, but sure enough Austin's strong hands pried my ass cheeks apart and then dove in.

"Holy fuck!" I gasped. This was a novel sensation for me, almost ticklish, but it felt REALLY good. My prick throbbed against the bedsheets. I found myself involuntarily pushing my ass back into Austin's face. That excited him and he gave my cheek a light slap and drilled his tongue deeper.

I tried to minimize contact with the bed sheets, since I didn't to cum from the stimulation. Instead I rode the circuit between my cock and my ass. Maybe I wouldn't enjoy being fucked, but I sure as hell was enjoying this.

Austin was enjoying it, too. Eating me out like he'd been dreaming of feasting on my hole. His desire for me fed my ego and turned me on.

"God, fuck," he hissed as he pulled back and then stretched his muscled ex-jock body across mine to reach for the lube. "I could do that all night," he hissed.

"I won't stop you buddy," I growled.

He laughed. I heard the lube cap flip and then a squirt. Then I felt his finger press against my ring. "So, you never did this with any of your fraternity buddies?" He asked. Applying more pressure. I was nervous, but his tongue had felt good and the stimulation of his finger wasn't so different.

"No," I said. "Never."

"You ever want to?" he asked. His finger popped in. About an inch, then slowly more. It was OK.

I shook my head. "Not until you," I admitted.

"That's hot," he hissed. He slowly fingered me, then spoke again. "Going in with a second, OK?" It wasn't a question though but just a heads up. Already finger number two was slipping in beside his lubed index finger.

Somehow the thicker penetration felt better. Less like a prostate exam and more with a pleasant fullness. Austin pressed in deep and hit something inside of me. Maybe this was like a prostate exam. Yeah, here I was a 51 year old man and getting an anatomy lesson quick.

"Just imagine my dick there," he asserted. Not overstimulating my inner spot but definitely working just at the edge of it.

"You wanna put it in me?" I asked. Still afraid, but physically I wanted to feel this. Feel what Austin was describing.

"I've been wanting to for almost two years now," he said with a deep lust. "Maybe longer if I'm honest."

He pulled back his fingers and lubed his cock. Then he got in place. Not plunging in, but teasing my relaxing hole with his cock head to get me excited. It was doing the trick but so was feeling his toned, jacked body on top of mine, his strong legs against my inner thighs. It was sensual and roughly sexual at the same time.

"I don't see any rubbers," he said. "You OK with that?"

I blushed. I hadn't even thought of that and felt dumb.

Austin leaned down and kissed between my shoulder blades. "I've been tested and I'm safe, Mr. D. If you wanna..."

I could hear the desire and hope in his voice. "Yeah," I assented.

Just like that his bare cock entered me. He braced his hand on my shoulder. I thought at first it was to support his upper body, but I realized it was to reassure me through the penetration. The first couple of inches weren't bad, but somewhere inside I tightened up.

"You got this, Mr. D," he whispered. "You're doing great."

His reassurance and his patience worked. I wanted this to be good for Austin. Hell, I wanted it to be great. He'd given me so much happiness over the course of a few months, and I wanted to repay it. But it worked when I stopped trying too hard. When I let his hips and his glute strength take charge.

It was like he was waiting for that right moment, for the tightness to abate. Then he plowed right in.

"Oh FUCK!" he cried, no longer a whisper. "There goes your cherry, Scott."

My cock had softened some, but it was rock hard now and pressing against the sheets once more. I gave small thrusts of my hips to increase the feeling as well as work Austin's big dick in my guts.

He took that as a signal. He pulled out and just as quickly thrust in. I was no longer simply getting penetrated, I was getting fucked. The physical part of it took me by surprise, but there was also the feeling of this young athletic man on top of me, pumping away for his pleasure. Not rough, but with a real power to his fucking that felt primal and wonderful.

I had to raise my hips up, to keep my dick from being overstimulated. That worked for a half minute, then Austin's thrusting powered me to the mattress as his kisses along my neck grew fervent and his chest went flush against my back muscle. He was getting real close.

Not as close as me though. Once my dick pressed against the bed again, it all came together. Austin covering from behind, his breath and voice and sex grunts, the cock filling incredibly full and doing a number on my internal gland, the fiction against my prick. My response to his own pleasure above me and knowing I was making him happy. I gripped the sheets and let out a deep cry. I was having the hardest cum of my life.

"Fuck yes, Mr. D. Go for it. Come on my fucking cock!" Austin hissed, his own hips a blur as he pounded me off and worked up his own head of steam. Twenty seconds after my ejaculation I heard his roar and felt his body get rigid on top of me.

"God yeah," he cooed. "Sweet."

We slowed our mating to a stop. As he slowly pulled out, I swiveled my head to meet him for a kiss. He then sat up in the bed and I had to admire how impressive his dick was, still throbbing and wet with lube and cum. Lazily he reached out to stroke my arm as I turned my exhausted body to face him.

"I think you liked that, Mr. D," he grinned.

"I know I liked that," I assured him. Not embarrassed by the fact like I thought I'd be. "I had no idea."

"That mean I'm gonna get more tail from you?" he asked. Cocky a little but genuinely curious.

I nodded. "Yeah, Austin. I'm pretty sure you will. I'm glad you liked your birthday present."

He smiled. "The absolute fucking best, Scott." He reached over to grip the back of my neck to pull me into a deep, soft kiss.

[joshfuckingkiszka]

『two: uncovered』

so sorry about the delay tbh I thought I posted this my bad yall mwah - ALSO I've made a playlist on Spotify (APPLE MUSIC SUPREMACY) for this series as well as sthh and end up here and will be making more (ignore the order of the songs from 7 and up because I'm still putting them in order)

THIS SERIES IS 18+ MINORS DNI

chapter warnings: ANGST, idiots in love, alcohol

from the playlist: gold rush - taylor swift / i hate myself for loving you - joan jett and the blackhearts

series masterlist

✮

It was hard to sleep, now that you knew what Josh’s mouth felt like. He still tasted like the numerous Salty Dogs he’d consumed at the bar, the recent hit of a fruity vape still on his lips. You tossed and turned in your bed, panicking about the next morning. He wouldn’t remember, he was too drunk. 

When the sun rose, you were already awake. Well, with barely two hours under your belt - and that’s being generous. The coffee you made burnt your tongue, but the frugality you’d possessed since high school made it hard to justify paying for caffeine. 

Josh didn’t wake for another three hours, which was a lot of time to think. Overthink. When he did, he made a quip about the cold coffee and the sweatshirt you wore. It was his, just like the shirt underneath it, stolen during a camping trip from sophomore year of college. 

This was supposed to have been a girls’ trip. You, Ronnie, and the two other girls who completed the four person dorm suite: Kehlani and Olive. 

Kehlani was confident and damn persistent, and it had scared you a little at first, but nothing in your suite ever went unfixed by maintenance. Her olive skin tone only got darker and glowier the longer she spent outside, and she did that quite a bit. The balcony was accustomed with the prettiest flowers you had ever seen, thanks to her and her green thumb. Fittingly, she was a Botany Major, who spent long hours at the library and ever longer ones at local greenhouses.

Olive was quiet, but even an idiot could see the crush she had on Jake. You learned - in bits and pieces - that she was an incredible artist, who had mastered realism, in your opinion. She was a psychology major, with hopes to go to medical school and become a psychologist. When the semester first started, she never spent more than five minutes outside of her room. Two months in, and it was like the four of you had always known each other. 

Back to the facts. Girls trip. Supposed to be. 

“Where exactly can we get alcohol where they won’t I.D. us?” Ronnie asked, her head on the armrest of the couch, feet in your lap.

“Well,” Kehlani started, “I would say that place on Fifth, but they got busted last week. Lost their license. Truly sad.”

“College town, Ron, we’re not getting anything without a fake,” you told her. She rolled her eyes, she knew you were right.

Olive piped up, “Ronnie, what about your brother? One of the twins? They’re 21.” Everyone knew she meant Jake. 

“Jake wouldn’t get us anything without a hefty price.” The Kiszka girl huffed. 

You contemplated. “Josh would do it for free.”

“Yeah for you.” She poked your ribs, and you giggled. “But the second he finds out it’s for me too, he’ll back out.”

“What if we invited them?” Kehlani suggested, and Olive’s eyes lit up. You’re not sure yours didn’t do the same. 

Ronnie groaned and protested for three days. 

“What if this is an alcohol free trip?” She attempted to pawn this idea. 

“The beginning of summer. At a lake house. Without alcohol. Do you hear how insane you sound right now, Veronica?” Kehlani’s hands were firmly gripping the brunette’s shoulders and her eyes bore deep and seriously into Ronnie’s. 

She rolled her eyes. “Inviting them will ruin the sanctity of a girl’s trip!” No one bought it. 

“Ronnie’s inviting you on our girl’s trip.” Josh’s hands stilled in your hair for only a second, his attention finally deviating from the Kubrick film. 

He scoffed. “What’s the catch?” Josh always was much smarter than he let on. 

“Alcohol. Purchasing. For the group.”

His eyes met yours. “Let me guess, she told you to butter me up tonight.” His tone was playful, but you knew he was being serious.

“No,” you rolled your eyes, grinning, “I’m not even supposed to be telling you. It’s supposed to be a ‘random act of kindness by your sweet little sister’.”

The two of you laughed. 

“Well, I’m not going without my other half.” 

“Oh, don’t worry I’ll be there.” He laughed and tickled your sides. 

“Jake won’t be happy I’m being invited.”

“Who do you think she’s asking on the trip right now?” 

Finally, his fingers were back in your hair and both sets of eyes on the screen. The movie didn’t have your attention anymore, though. 

“I take it the bar was fun last night,” you quipped. 

His brows raised in agreement, “I would say I’m never drinking again, but we both know that’s a lie.” 

Josh was quiet for a moment, “I didn’t…say anything weird did I?” 

You thought back to his lips on yours. 

“No more than usual.” 

“Good.” 

He was holding something back. Was he worried he spilled something he shouldn’t have? A band announcement? A girl? Your breath caught in your throat for a second and you passed it off as a cough. 

“What would you have said?”

He shrugged, but he knew. 

“I’ve got a surprise for you tonight,” he mentioned casually. 

On a call a few weeks ago, Josh had practically begged you to come out with him and the guys tonight. You agreed, because you missed them, and because going out just wasn’t the same without them. 

“Should I be concerned?” You elbowed him gently. Asking was stupid, because you already were. 

“I’m not sure,” he said earnestly, “I don’t think so. But the guys - nevermind.” 

Now you were really concerned. You left, making up some excuse about getting ready (even though it was about five hours until the guys would be over). 

Whatever he was telling you tonight, gave you a bad gut feeling. You sincerely hoped you were wrong. Regardless, you trudged through getting ready. You took a long “everything” shower - as you’d heard it regarded on Tiktok (Josh made fun of you for watching them, but you would always catch him quoting ones he thought were funny). You were on autopilot as you did your makeup, it was what you had seen as the “rockstar girlfriend” look - ironic, huh? 

A black mini skirt was layered with tights donning little hearts and a lacy black bra could be seen under a mesh long-sleeved crop top. Black leather boots that came up to your knees was your shoe of choice for the evening, and you knew that anyone else would mistake you for a groupie. Not Josh. Never Josh. To him you would always be his Little Red. 

Once your hair was done - even if that one piece kept falling in your face - you gave yourself a once over in the mirror. You looked hot. It had never mattered to you what a man thought so why, all of a sudden, did you care so much about what Josh had to say about your outfit? 

You thought back to Tara, had she been right? Were you falling in love with Josh? Or had those feelings always been there. 

“I swear to god, one more Shakespeare play and I’m-” 

“If you do it, I do it. I’m serious, too.” 

Ronnie had needed an extra elective because of an error her advisor had made, and you needed a class to fill a time slot you didn’t want empty. Romeo and Juliet had been so good your freshman year, so what harm would a Shakespearean Literature class be? Incredibly harmful. Analyses piled on top of the other and you could barely keep up with what you were supposed to be reading. Ronnie wasn’t having any better luck, so cheating wasn’t even an option. 

Homework should have been the last thing on your mind during Thanksgiving Break, but with the amount of practice Josh was having to do, the distraction seemed inviting. It wasn’t just practice, either, he and the guys had become serious about the band, performing gigs all around Michigan. You had banned them from ever coming back to the college, though, because of the attention Josh - and all of the boys - had received from the female audience. It was fine if you didn’t have to hear about it, right? Right, so no more University of Michigan gigs. Josh laughed, but he never even joked about coming back. 

They had gained quite a bit of popularity, and the last you had heard from Josh, a few labels wanted to talk to them. You refused to hear updates from anyone but the oldest Kiszka, if for nothing more so that you could talk to him. His original love of the theater had been put on the backburner, replaced by Rock n’ Roll, leather pants, and a rat tail you weren’t sure if you loved or hated. Josh loved the music, though, he loved making Jake happy and he bathed in the attention he got from the audience. 

“They’re not that different,” he explained, “The stage is different, but the crowd is all the same: they’re all there for a show.” 

“And you give it to them?” You mused. 

“Absolutely, mama.” There was also that. You assumed he had picked it up from Elvis or The Black Crowes or some other musical inspiration. He used it and your nickname interchangeably, at whim. His language, his looks, even his desires had changed. He was still your Josh though. 

Your reading of Hamlet, or maybe Macbeth, was interrupted by screaming in the lower level of the Kiszka house. You and Ronnie gave confused looks to each other before dashing downstairs. 

As soon as you were off the bottom step, Josh’s arms were around you and his face was buried in your neck as he spun you around. When he set you down, his eyes bore into yours. They were deep mahogany, and they reminded you of smooth satin with the golden flecks as ornate detailing. 

“We have a record deal!” It felt like time stopped. You had hoped for this moment, but you also knew what it meant. 

“That’s incredible, I’m so proud of you - all of you.” Nice save, by the way. You hugged him again, and you savored the smell of his cologne mixed with the faintest smell of the weed he’d smoked the night before. You could feel the tears, and Josh could too as they hit his shirt. 

He grabbed your hand and walked you to the back porch. Everyone still celebrating in the living room barely noticed. 

“What’s wrong, Little Red? Aren’t you happy?” He could read you like a book. His frown broke you a bit

“Yeah, I’m so happy for you.” You hated that you had made him feel like his accomplishment was a negative thing. 

“But?” He pressed. 

“You won’t forget me, right? Promise me you won’t forget me, Joshy.” Tears fell freely now and his arms wrapped tightly around you again. 

“How could I ever forget you? I,” he hesitated, “I love you.” 

In the moment, it made sense. He was comforting his best friend. Josh had always been so open with his feelings and affection that you had never really questioned that night. Now, as you sat on the floor in your bedroom, reeling from the very idea that you might be in love with him, you wondered. Could he have always been in love with you, too? Was this a two way street or were you about to crash and burn? 

You felt dizzy, but you got up and walked to the living room where Josh sat on the couch, his hands clasped together and an uncharacteristically serious look on his face. 

“Josh, I-”

“I have a girlfriend.”

〚taglist〛

gvf: @doodle417 @brokenbellz @gretavanfleas @pyrojoshy @greta-van-chaos @xserenax-13 @hayley1623 @kdarling1 @autumns30 @keighoe @chalametpwk @sammysvanfeet @shawnsthighs @gretavanbitches @sammiejane22 @gretavanbestie @jordierama @alexxavicry @spark-my-nature @rainy-darling @I-am-kaitlyn @musicspeaks

joshy: @prophetofthedune @loofypoofy @gretavangracee

this series: @arnoldperlsteinishot​, @maedesculpaeusoubi​

[kissorkill16]

We Met Again: A Hello Neighbor Fanfic

By JJ

Summary: 2 friends meet again after years of separation.

21 year old Trinity Bales was sitting down at a table at Starbucks, reading a book, eating her chocolate chip cookie and waiting on her coffee.

About half an hour later, a man in an apron came to her, holding her latte.

"Here's your drink. I'll bring you the bill when you're finished.", he said. "Also, it's a company policy to ask customers to remember to throw away your trash."

Trinity looked up, "Thank you, sir."

She was about to take her coffee, but then she took a closer look at the man that served her drink.

He looked different, but almost familiar.

"Nicky?", she whispered.

The man stilled in surprise, but then he took a closer look at the woman.

"Trinity?!", he almost shouted.

Trinity stood up, and she had such a strong urge to just hug the pale man, or shake him.

It's been years since they've last seen each other. Nicky moved away from Raven Brooks when he was 13, and Trinity was left with the rest of the squad to investigate other mysteries of this messed up town.

"Oh my God, I haven't seen you in so long!", said Nicky. "Also, not to be rude, but I go by Nick now. Nicky was a childish boy.", he pointed to his name tag. "See?"

Trinity put her hands on her hips and tilted her head to the side, "Okay then, Nick. How have you been?"

"I've been okay. Just trying to get by in life like every other human being. I work here during the day and I work at a liquor store by night.", Nick let out a dry laugh. "Sometimes I get free drinks."

Trinity took Nicky's hand and held it in hers. "Do you want to come back to my place after work?"

Nick felt a wave of emotions as Trinity held her hand. It reminded him of the time where she and her friends saved him from the basement of Mr. Peterson's house. Her warm hands on his, covering them like a warm blanket.

"My shift ends at 3:00."

Trinity came back an hour later, ready to pick her friend up. Nick walked over to her car and got in once he saw her wave.

Trinity took Nick to a nice, freshly painted house in Newtown. Nick found it to be beautiful, compared to his old, boarded up, rotting house.

"Wow, Trinity. You really treated yourself.", he said.

"Thanks, Nick."

They got out of the car, and Trinity unlocked the door, and they walked in. They were greeted by a nice, warm feeling of air.

"Woah, sure is toasty in here.", said Nick.

"Yeah.", said Trinity.

They took off their shoes, went to the living room and sat down on the couch. It was silent for a moment before Trinity spoke up.

"Where'd you move to after Raven Brooks?", she asked.

"I don't know, some place in New York. I think it was either Brooklyn or Queens or some shit. Either way, it was New York.", replied Nick. "My parents were able to find a good therapist that wasn't a total creep, or part of a secret cult."

Trinity hummed.

"What about you? Raven Brooks been treating you right?"

"Somewhat.", said Trinity. "Things slowly got rocky in Raven Brooks. We haven't seen anything or heard anything yet, but I still have a weird feeling that there's still something lurking about in this messed up town."

"Trinity, there's always something lurking about in this messed up town."

"I know."

Another moment of silence.

"How's the rest of the gang? You and Enzo together yet?"

Trinity shook her head. "Me and Enzo didn't really work out. He loves me, but I only like him as a friend, so I broke up with him. He's still pretty salty about it, but we're on good terms."

"Damn, that sucks.", said Nick. "I haven't really had much interest in anyone. I've been more focused on work and not having nightmares."

Trinity looked at her friend in worry, "Speaking of which, how've you been...coping with it lately?"

Nicky didn't answer, at least not until he coughed, and a little bit of smoke came out.

"Yeah, I developed a little bit of unhealthy habits before therapy. I'm already paying for that, groceries, and bills, so I don't really have much left over for rehab."

Trinity grew more worried. "You started smoking to cope with your trauma?", she asked. "Nick, that's not healthy."

"It's not just smoking, sometimes it's drinking.", said Nick. As if that made it any better. "And that's only part of the reason why I started."

Trinity crossed her arms. "What's the other reason?", she asked.

Nick sat in silence for a minute, before he flopped into the couch, looking at Trinity. "Because I missed you."

Trinity couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her friend who was a social pariah since the day she met him, the boy who got kidnapped by her crazy neighbor, turned to smoking and drinking to cope with the thoughts of her. "You missed me?"

"It was kinda hard for me not to.", he said. "You were the only one who believed in me, the only one who didn't think I was crazy. When I moved away, all I could think about was you. I know it sounds weird, but it's the truth."

Trinity felt her face grow red.

"But I think I might've had feelings for you before I moved away. I didn't want to say anything since I knew Enzo had a massive crush on you. But every time you hold my hand, I feel all warm and fuzzy inside.", he said.

Trinity smiled, her face growing more red.

"I missed you too, Nicky. You're one of the best people I've ever met.", she said.

Nick smiled at her, but wasn't prepared for what she did next.

Trinity pounced on the man, and shoved her mouth onto his, but quickly pulled away once she tasted him.

"EWW! You taste disgusting.", she said.

"Well, yeah. What did you expect?", Nick sassed at her.

"I'll pay for your rehab and get you some help.", said Trinity. "But first..."

She continued to devour the man, and Nick didn't even mind one bit that this happened.

Boy, was he happy to be back.

[cookinguptales]

time to shill for Big Salt!!!

Okay, so like I said in my last post, I recently became a ~Vitassium Ambassador~, which is a fancy way of saying that I shilled for this company for free for so long that now they're paying me to do it.

In salt. Much like a deer.

Anyway.

Vitassium is SaltStick's line of products specifically for POTS, EDS, Cystic Fibrosis, Vasovagal Syncope, and other forms of autonomic dysfunction. Essentially speaking, SaltStick has been making electrolyte products for years, and when they realized that a lot of their patients buying them were doing it for medical reasons, they started doing research into creating products specifically for that purpose. And that's how the Vitassium line was born.

Vitassium generally has more salt and less magnesium/calcium/potassium than SaltStick's other electrolyte products, which is good if you need a lot of salt and you don't want to take too high a dose of the rest. Personally, I tend to use a mixture of both of their lines so I can get a little calcium/magnesium boost sometimes but more salt other times. (The amount of potassium is fairly similar in both lines, with a little more in the SaltStick line.)

Either way, it has a lot less sugar than Liquid IV, which I get sick off of due to sugar sensitivities. Like... *googles* 11g of sugar in Liquid IV vs. 2g of sugar in Vitassium, with the same amount of salt in each serving. I have to be pretty careful about my sugar intake, and I suppose I can't speak for everyone, but my stomach handles Vitassium a lot better than most of the other alternatives on the market.

So I've been using it for several years now and I'm really happy with their products! Like -- I may now officially be a shill for Big Salt, but I don't plan on lying or exaggerating anything here. I use their products every day, and sometimes that's the only way I can manage to take a shower.

(My fellow POTS/EDS-sufferers know, the shower struggle is real. lmao)

Anyway, they just sent me one of everything in their Vitassium line. They didn't actually ask me to show it off, but I'm doing it anyway because this is my blog and I cannot be stopped.

From left to right, we have a bottle of their electrolyte capsules (these are sugar-free extended-release salt pills with a bit of potassium added), both flavors of their electrolyte fastchews (chewable electrolyte candies that provide quick relief... think salty sweettarts), a cute bottle full of packets of their electrolyte drink mix, sample packs of the fastchews, and some stickers.

Personally, I mostly use the fastchews. I've tried salt capsules in the past and had some stomach upset, but now that they sent these to me for free, I guess I'll try them out again. The fastchews are basically sour candy full of salt lmao. (They also have about 2g of sugar per serving, just like the drink mix.) They really are effective, though, so I tend to take them as needed throughout the day.

I usually just keep a bottle of them in my purse, but the sample size bags are resealable and fit well in pockets, bags, etc. I'm happy that they sent me some little sample bags because now I can refill them, haha.

I used to just buy the normal SaltStick fastchews, and my go-to flavors in that line are orange, wild berry, and lemon-lime! I haven't tried the mango because I'm allergic, the peach is okay if very sour, the coconut pineapple is a nice piña colada taste but a little sweet for me, and I really hate the watermelon ones!

(Look, I promised to be honest with you. lmao)

The Vitassium fastchews are newer, and they only come in two flavors so far. I always buy the fruit punch because I despise artificial grape flavor. They just gave me a bunch of grape ones, so I tried them. Good for what they are, but I still hate grape.

(Do any of my chronically ill followers want these? lmk)

The drink mix is the newest Vitassium product! I like it quite a bit; the relief is quicker when you drink it vs. eat it, and speaking as someone who generally hates drink mixes, the flavor is pretty good.

I've tried both the fruit punch and the pink lemonade, and I think I prefer the pink lemonade. The flavor suits the salt a little better, imo, and I think weirdly it mixes a little better?

I usually buy the drink mix in the canisters because it's cheaper that way and produces less waste (the canister pictured there is one I already had) but the packets are very handy to keep in your bag. They're easy to tear open and even when you tear off the whole top, the opening is small enough that it pours smoothly into small-necked bottles. I like to put some ice in mine and shake it up.

(Side note: Vitassium has specifically designed all their packaging to be as easy to open and use as possible because they know that so many of their customers have arthritis, EDS, and other connective tissue disorders. Which, as someone with EDS, I truly appreciate.)

Finally, one thing I genuinely like about Vitassium is that they try to make their products as accessible as possible for their customers who use them for medical reasons. They have something called the Vitassium Club, which allows registered users who have a medical condition to get 25% off all their electrolyte products. You don't have to get a doctor's note or anything like that, just send in a quick online form and wait for them to change the status of your account.

That brings the cost of the product down considerably for the people who need it most, which is good because honestly? Electrolyte boosters add up fast when you need to consume that much salt every day.

Uhhhh, I think that's everything for now! If you have any questions, lmk! I'm fairly passionate about this kind of thing because when I was first diagnosed with POTS/EDS like... god, 15 years ago now, they didn't have anything like this. I remember struggling to develop a diet that worked for me with no one to teach me and honestly? That fucking sucked. I don't want anyone to be in that position.

So now here in 2023, I'm happy to pass on any chronic illness-related tips I have. Like drink Vitassium! And add salt while you're cooking, not at the end! The flavor will be less strong that way! And a packet of sugar-free hot cocoa mix will often have as much sodium in it as a bag of chips!

Stay salty, friends. 🧂💜😎