#Anyway this is the first time in a while I find myself having the energy to draw this much fanart

[danikoshi-doodles]

Guess what I violently found myself back into and finally drawing fanart of

[fireinmywoods]

Hi folks! I’ve received a few concerned asks and messages about my inactivity lately, so this is just a super quick pop-in to let y’all know that I have had Some Stuff happen this summer but I’m alive and mostly well, I haven’t left you for another fandom (lol the very IDEA. who has that kind of energy), and I will be doing my very best to provide long-overdue responses to comments, asks, and messages within a hopefully not too hideously embarrassing timeframe. Thank you for your patience with me! Take a stretch break and drink some water, please! 💙💛💙💛💙💛

[ashenburst]

Don't let them fool you. You can find your twin flame at the club

[sicbaby]

sleeping beauty

stepdad!leon kennedy x f!reader

cw: 18+ smut, stepcest, somnophilia, non consensual (at first)

it was a weekend you were looking forward to. a nice little winter vacation with your mom and some of her friends. it would be nice to get out of the house for a while anyway, especially since your seasonal depression kicked in.

however, your plans quickly changed when you fell ill. god damnit, stupid fucking weather. had to ruin your plans. now you were bed ridden, absolutely no energy so you refused to do anything. your loving mother didn’t bat an eye, wishing you well and heading off with her friends for the weekend. thanks, mom.

luckily, your stepdad was free. leon.

leon was a good dad, sweet and caring… more than your mom ever was. you liked him a lot. your mom put leon in charge of taking care of you for the weekend, and he was more than happy to oblige. he barely ever had time off work, and he was looking forward to spending time with you.

it was friday night and leon sat on the couch watching tv, feeling frustrated. the reason why? you.

yes, you. the poor little thing that had slept the day away. he had planned out the whole evening for the two of you. he was going to make soup, cuddle you and watch your favorite movies and kiss and love on you. like a good father should when his daughter gets sick. but you never even got out of bed. he felt lonely, frustrated, and needy. he missed his pretty little girl.

it was getting late. he shut down the house and put away the full pot of soup he had made for you. just seeing it sitting there made his frustration grow even stronger.

he turned off all the lights, locking the front door and heading upstairs. he’s mad at you.

he knows he shouldn’t feel that way, especially when you’re sick. but he can’t help it. he passes your door, not giving it a second look as he heads to his room.

he strips to his boxers, ready to get in bed as he fights an internal struggle within himself.

god, it’s not your fault, you poor thing. but he has needs too, doesn’t matter if you’re sick. with a frustrated sigh, he heads to down the hall to check on you.

he knocks on your door softly, and when there isn’t a response he opens it. the air is damp, filled with the peppermint scent of your diffuser on full blast. the room is dark, and he can hardly see until he comes closer. you’re sleeping. still.

his gaze wanders over your sleeping form. you were on your belly with your left leg hiked up. you were wearing the sheerest pink nightgown, and the silk practically melted into your body, leaving little to the imagination. it also didn’t help that your position caused the gown to ride up, the bottom of your cheeks exposed to him. nothing underneath that slutty little gown, of course. despite his irritation, he couldn't deny the allure of your vulnerability. a mischievous grin tugs at the corner of his lips as a wicked idea forms in his mind.

leon slowly approaches the side of the bed, his steps almost silent against the carpeted floor. he felt as if you owed him for the lonely, isolated day he had.

swiftly, he reaches out and gently brushes his hand against your cheek, feeling the warmth of your feverish skin beneath his fingertips. "you know, i was hoping we could have some quality time together," he murmured, his tone mocking. "but it seems like you're too busy being a useless little burden, sleeping the day away."

his frustration brewed beneath the surface, and he couldn't resist the temptation any longer. leon slowly reaches down, his fingers grazing over your thigh. the touch was light, teasing, not wanting to wake you up just yet.

"since you're so useless, maybe i should find another way to entertain myself," he whispered, his voice dripping with dark amusement. "hmmm,” he hums, “maybe i'll have to wake you up properly, little sleeping beauty."

leon's hand continued caressing your thigh, inching higher and higher. your mouth was wide open, snoring softly. he chuckled at that. even sick and asleep, you were such a prize. and he was going to claim you.

trailing his hand along the back of your left thigh, he nudges it to the side slightly, guiding your legs to open more for him. he trails up and up, until his index finger flicks over the soft flesh of your pussy. he smirks when you don’t move, and proceeds to glide his finger up and down your folds until it settles on your clit. he applies just enough pressure to elicit a small noise from your parted lips. it’s barely noticeable, though, and he keeps playing and teasing with your pussy until that warm wetness is coating his finger.

the act of making you wet even while you slept was an intoxicating feeling for leon. the sudden urge to possess you and claim you as his own rushes over him.

he crawls over you, settling into bed next to you. he places a light hand on your back, feeling the silk of your nightgown. his touch trailed lower and his fingers knead the soft flesh of your ass, reveling in its plumpness. he couldn't help but let out a low, husky groan as his desire for you intensified.

leon's desire grew even stronger as he shifted closer to you. being careful not to disturb you, he delicately repositioned you onto your side, hand still firmly gripping your ass. once he’s satisfied with your position, he presses his hand to the front of your hips, pressing your ass against him. his cock hardens at the feeling of your warm and soft ass against him. he couldn't help but grind his hips against yours, feeling his cock grow with every slow rut. a low growl of satisfaction escaped his lips as he continued, moving his head up to press his face into your hair, inhaling your scent.

he looks back down to your ass, slowly and carefully lifting your nightgown up your back, exposing your bare skin to the fabric of his boxers as he continues to slowly hump you. in a low, whispered voice, he couldn't resist indulging in dirty talk again, knowing you wouldn't hear him. you were so deep in your slumber.

"hi, princess.” he taunts, right in your ear this time. “you gonna let daddy fuck your tight little pussy? hm? yeah, you are. daddy’s gonna do whatever he wants with you tonight, baby," he murmured, his voice laced with desire. “daddy deserves that, right?” he asks, reaching up to grab your chin, forcing you to nod your head in your sleep. he chuckles deeply at this. “yeah, that’s right. good girl, baby.”

as he continues grinding against you, his hand lowers from your chin to your breasts, lightly grazing his fingers over your nipples, smirking to himself when he feels them harden almost immediately. you don’t move, don’t make any noise, and he wonders how much farther he can go. he trails his left hand down your tummy to your pussy, his hand once again finding your clit. at this point, you’re soaked. “dirty fucking girl..” he chuckles deeply.

he removes his hand, wiping your slick off on his boxers as he pulls them down his legs. he tosses them off the bed, moving back to you to lift up your leg. he scoots up, placing his now hard cock up against your wet cunt. he brings your leg back down and groans at the feeling of your lips and thighs surrounding his cock. he begins humping you again, your pussy continuously wetting his dick and making the most obscene noises in the quiet room.

it wasn’t until now you stir slightly, in a weird dream like state. you feel heat on your neck, a warmth against your body and wetness pooling between your legs. and yet, your mind can’t comprehend it, choosing to stay asleep.

leon continues humping his cock against your pussy, grunting softly in your ear. soon, he’s losing all control. he quickly lifts your leg, taking his dick into his hand as he slaps your cunt a few times with it, teasing himself yet again. he rubs it back and forth, pushing his head against your entrance, gauging your reaction. you still don’t move, and he scoffs a little. he finally presses the tip of his cock into your waiting hole, slowly yet surely filling you up. he barely gets all the way inside when you finally wake up, in a daze.

“hmm- huh, hnnng? leon?” you whine, immediately trying to get up when you feel a heavy, almost painful weight inside of you. you’re sick, weak and confused, your whines almost sound like you’re about to cry. and you just might, until leon pushes you gently back onto your side. “shhh, shhh, princess. it’s okay, daddy’s here. just needed to fill you up, make you feel better. daddy just wanted to feel you. that’s okay, right baby?” he shushes you, keeping his cock buried deep inside you.

you lay back against the pillows, your face contorted in confusion and worry. you nod. “o-oh, y-yeah… okay, daddy…” you immediately comply. you trust your dad. whatever he’s doing.

your voice is weak, eyes burning and you’re just so fucking tired. your state turns leon on even more. you don’t even comprehend what’s going on until you blink a few more times.

and then you realize it. your stepdads cock is inside of you.

“d-dad?” you say weakly, unable to move. your eyes shift around the room, scared to move, scared to turn around to face him.

“yeah?” he groans. “so naughty. leaving your daddy all alone all day.” he mumbles. “you’re gonna make it up to me, kay princess?” his voice is condescending, a bit mean, and it makes your pussy clench around him. yet your face tells a different story. you’re on the verge of tears. why is this happening? he laughs breathily into the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. you want this just as much as him. even if you don’t realize it yet.

your mouth is slightly open, unable to breathe through your nose due to your sickness. you feel dizzy, your body hot and sweaty and leon begins to thrust, pounding into you relentlessly from behind. your body is completely limp in his hold, his left hand digging into your thigh harshly as he keeps your leg up in the air.

you cry out, your body feeling so fragile and sore. he’s just making it worse. this isn’t right. but why are you so wet? your panic increases by the second.

“d-dad! stop! this is so bad,” you sob. “t-this is sooo wrong!”

his thrusts are forceful, taking exactly what he wants from you with no mercy. he can sense your energy waning, your body growing weaker as you try to fight back. he drops your leg, reaching around to rub circles into your swollen clit.

“oh, it feels wrong, does it?” he growls. “but i know you want this, baby girl. fight all you want. pussy’s fuckin’ crying for me.” he feels your body trembling, little whines and cries falling from your pretty mouth.

you feel so overwhelmed, thrashing in his hold, tears falling from your eyes. you don’t even know what you want, a pure mess, brain mushy and can’t think straight. your movements are futile against him. “s-stop! stop! hurts, daddy! please…” he’s huge, practically splitting you in two on his dick.

“no, no, baby. you be good for daddy. you don’t wanna make daddy angry, hmm? bad girls don’t get to cum, you know.” his voice is surprisingly soft, yet so fucking condescending it makes a sob erupt from you. he pulls all the way back out, before slamming his entire length back into your pussy.

“d-daddy,” you cry. “please!” you’re shaking so much, poor baby. your pussy keeps clenching, sucking in his cock before trying to spit him out.

“awww.” he coos. “does daddy’s cock feel too big for your tiny little pussy, baby girl?” he slows his thrusts, giving you some time to adjust. you can feel your heartbeat racing in every part of your body, especially in your cunt. you’re thankful he slows down. you can really feel him this way, feel how every ridge drags deliciously against your walls. it feels too good now. you want to cum. you need to cum.

however, leon doesn’t like taking it slow. “don’t worry, honey. i know you can take it.” he resumes a faster pace, your entire body bouncing from the force. your sobs of pain and discomfort quickly turn into whiny moans of pleasure, no matter how much you try to fight it.

he grabs your cheeks roughly, squeezing them, making your lips pout as he turns your head towards him slightly. he kisses at your tears, tasting the saltiness on your face.

“you’re doing so well, my precious little toy. you’re such a good girl for taking all of daddy’s cock.” he praises, causing you to subconsciously relax a little, letting him sink deeper into your cunt.

“thaaaats it, princess,” he continues, bottoming out and stilling for a moment again. he kisses your neck hungrily, breathing in your scent once again. “you ready to cum for daddy, my little bunny?” he teases, his voice dripping with control. you whine in response, that dumb little brain of yours not able to form words. “beg for it, baby. show me just how badly you need it.” he ruts up harshly into you one time, urging you to speak. it causes you to gasp out a broken moan.

“p-please… please.. need ‘t cum…” it’s a weak response, but you truly aren’t able to conjure up anything better. your hips have a mind of its own, grinding back on leon’s cock desperately searching for release.

leon would want to make you beg for it until you were screaming, but he had to have some type of consideration for his sick baby, right?

he doesn’t respond to your begging, only continuing to pound into you. it feels so good you feel like you’re about to pass out, head empty and dizzy.

he reaches around once more, slapping your bouncing tits a few times, making you gasp. you throw your hands up, trying to stop him but he easily swats your hands away and continues. his fingertips drop down harshly right on your hard, sensitive nipples. “nuh uh, baby. what did i say, huh?” he threatens in a high pitched, taunting baby-like voice.

“‘m sorr- sorry, daddy!” you cry out, hiccuping, your voice hoarse.

“mm, it’s okay, my sweet girl. ‘s brave, endured so much for daddy. go ahead and cum, baby. cum all over daddy’s cock.” he says through gritted teeth. he stops his assault on your tits, bringing his hand down to rub at your puffy clit.

your hand wraps around his wrist, pushing it down harder against the swollen nub. he smirks at this. your lip is drawn between your teeth, body going stiff as you near your release.

“cmon, baby. be a good girl for me. wanna feel that tight pussy cum around my cock. you want it, don’t you?” he encourages, his balls drawing up, so so so close to cumming inside of you.

“mhm, mhm, mhm!” you moan, nodding your head once you feel your orgasm approaching. your jaw goes slack, eyes rolling back into your head, body convulsing as you cum hard. your head is thrown back, resting on leon’s shoulder. he places kisses on your temple, holding you tight through your release.

he starts rutting into you like a rabbit as he cums, shooting his load deep into your womb, offering a warm satisfaction in your lower belly. his thrusts turn into slow, sharp ruts, making sure your cunt takes everything he has to give.

“fuck, baby.” he grunts, his body convulsing with the aftershocks of pleasure. he stays inside of you for a moment. both of you are breathing hard and you sigh tiredly. he moves the hair from out of your face, kissing you sweetly on the cheek.

your cheeks are red and puffy, stained with tears. you feel so good, you can’t even be upset at what just happened. in fact, you want it to happen again.

exhaustion washes over you. your thoughts, your morality… it can wait for the morning.

“go back to sleep, sweet girl. daddy will take care of you. love you so much, princess.” he kisses your forehead, nosing your hairline, inhaling your sweet scent. he just can’t get enough. such a perfect little girl, and now he’s claimed you. his perfect little girl, all for him.

[celtic-crossbow]

Blood Ties Chapter 8

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore, vomiting, child injury, allusions to gunshot wound, pregnancy complications A/N: Okay, this one turned out to be a monster. My brain is fried so any mistakes I made, I'll fix later. I really really hope Daryl isn’t OOC here. I tried to put myself in his shoes, knowing what I know about him. Anyway! On with the show!

*Click here to be added to taglists.

Moodboard by @dannyo000 💙

You stayed closer to the RV while the group had gathered around Carol to provide support. While you wanted desperately to be there for her, you couldn’t help but feel a strong sense of guilt. Your baby was safe inside your belly while her Sophia was lost in the forest. 

Rick had dispatched the two walkers that had scared the little girl into running, but found her missing when he returned. He had since taken Daryl, Glenn, and Shane back into the trees. Daryl was a tracker and a damn good one. If anyone stood a chance at finding her, it was him. 

“You okay?” 

You startled from your thoughts to see Andrea staring down at you with concern etched onto her face. You must really look like shit. You had completely forgotten about food and water along with the items you had gathered once you and Daryl had made it back to find that Sophia had disappeared. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.” You didn’t sound very convincing even to your own ears. You were still dizzy with a trembling in your limbs that just would not subside. Your stomach was still uneasy. When wasn’t it uneasy, actually?

“You’re looking a little pale. Can I get you anything?” She laid a hand against the RV and leaned into it. 

“Some water, if they found any?” Your voice was so gravelly, your mouth dry. Your lips felt as if they’d split open should you smile. 

“Yeah! Shane found a ton! One second!” 

Then she was off! You didn’t have the energy to track her movements, instead deciding to place your forehead against your knees. You truly did feel horrible. If this was what women called “the joys of pregnancy” you would pass, thank you very much, and just get handed the baby. 

“Here.” Reluctantly, you raised your head, finding a plastic cup at eye level. With a minute nod, you sipped slowly at the cold drink. It felt like heaven on your parched throat. “When’s the last time you ate?”

“Huh?” You were absolutely abstracted. When she asked again, you really had to stop and think. “I guess at the CDC.”

“Oh, hun. That’s not good. Let me see what I can find for you.” Andrea began to turn but stopped when you laid a hand on her arm. 

“I really don’t think I can stomach anything. Everything makes me sick.” You ran a hand through your hair, grimacing when your fingers became trapped by some knotted stands. You had eaten the candies Carol had given you with only mild relief. There was not a second of reprieve from your stomach attempting to crawl out of your throat. 

“You need nutrients. For the baby.” She urged, crouching down in front of you. 

“I know. Maybe I can try when they find Sophia and we can go back to the normal amount of fear and anxiety.” One side of your mouth lifted into a ghost of a smile when you heard her chuckle. 

“Okay. But let me know if you change your mind.”

“Thank you. I will.”

Glenn and Shane returned first, the former handing out tasks to keep everyone busy. Most likely trying to control panic. You were no exception. The man sent you to grab the things you had found. You didn’t hesitate to inform him there was too much to retrieve on your own. 

“You’ll just have to make trips then, won’tcha? He scoffed, turning away and leaving no room for argument. 

You still wanted to show how useful you could be but you felt like hammered shit. The dizziness and trembling remained, and your ass met the pavement once you had arrived back to your treasure pile. There was no way you were coming back out there again. Listening for any signs of danger, you began to consolidate. Only the most useful things were placed in the suitcase, the remainder left on the ground. Zipping up the thing, you were beyond grateful for the wheels. 

Daryl and Rick had returned by the time you made it back. Sophia was not with them. Carol was in hysterics. Honestly, you weren’t sure that she had ever left the mindset. It didn’t take any persuading for you to relinquish the bed in the RV to her that night. 

Come morning, weakness and exhaustion were a suffocating blanket wrapped tightly around you. You wanted to stay there and sleep but that wasn’t even remotely an option. Not while Sophia was out there. 

Everyone was issued a weapon. You were given a second knife and holster, this one taking up residence on your hip. Only Shane, Rick, and Daryl were carrying firearms. Some bogus bullshit about everyone else needed to be trained. You were trained. However, there was no use arguing and you felt too horrible to engage in a losing battle. 

“What’re ya doin’?”

You lifted your head to find Daryl glaring at you. “My taxes. What’s it look like?” You replied with an over exaggerated roll of your eyes. 

“Ya ain’t goin’.” His tone left no room for negotiation. Unfortunately for him, there was no way you could care less. 

“Not asking permission, Dixon.” You made to walk by him but he caught your arm in passing. With a stern look at his hand on your bicep, you hissed “let go.”

“Nah, ya need ta stay here.”

“I can take care of myself.” 

“Ain’t you m’worried ‘bout.” He shot a pointed look at your stomach. 

You snatched your arm free. “That’s sweet, but again, I’m not asking your permission.” It was getting easier and easier to walk away from him. You weren’t so sure that was a good thing. 

Andrea and Dale were engaged in what appeared to be a heated conversation as you passed by. You had an inkling on what it was about but it was none of your business. It was Andrea’s choice and she felt it had been taken from her. You could sympathize, recalling the helplessness you had felt when Jenner closed those doors. You and the blonde were on opposite ends of that spectrum. You had wanted desperately to live while she had been ready to die. 

The group had already crossed the guardrail and entered the trees with you and Andrea pulling up the rear in a jog until you caught up. While she continued forward, you chose to hang back. Daryl had taken the lead, constantly scanning for footprints or other disturbances that could possibly indicate Sophia had been through the area. You could have helped him, but it would likely not be well received given he had rebuffed the idea of you being there in the first place. 

“Stop lagging behind.” Shane grumbled at you, halting his steps until you passed him. “Shouldn’t even be here.” You weren’t sure if he had meant for you to hear him. Nor were you sure of his reasoning. Because you were a stranger? Because you were pregnant? Regardless, you let it slide. You were there to help find Sophia. 

Your steps remained steady which meant Lori had slowed her own while talking with Carl. Yet another conversation you had no right to hear, but you did offer a tight smile in passing. You ended up behind Glenn, absently comfortable with that. He had said the least to you but when he did speak, he was kind. 

It wasn’t much further before Daryl gave a signal to slow. When he lowered into a crouch everyone followed suit, including you. The transition left you dizzy and leaning forward to place a palm on the dirt in order to maintain your balance. The all too familiar twist and cramp of your stomach signaled the impending purge. Maybe you should have stayed behind. 

Your steps were silent as a ghost. You retreated from the group, backtracking as far as you safely could alone before you no longer had control. All the water you had managed to drink splashed onto the dirt, leaving you once again empty. You were going to die from starvation or dehydration at this point. It was a terrifying reality. The only option would be to find a pharmacy and seek out something for nausea. But what was safe to take during pregnancy?

Your first few steps were unsteady but you managed to level your gait at some point while tracking your way back to the others. Before you could really gauge whether your absence had been noticed, there was a tolling of bells in the distance. Church bells?

The small group as a whole began to sprint toward the sound but you? You couldn’t run if you tried. The dizziness was worsening, your extremities feeling not unlike lead weights. You knew now Daryl had been right. You should have stayed behind. Should’ve, could’ve, would’ve. Now, you had no choice but to move forward. Making the trip back to the RV alone would be more dangerous than falling a little behind your group. At least they could hear if you called for help. 

When you finally saw the space in front of you open up to an old church house and the familiar shapes of your fellow party members, you could have cried. Well, actually, you probably physically couldn’t cry. Dehydration was taking hold, a fact that you knew without anyone pointing it out. You hadn’t needed to pee since the previous afternoon. Your tongue was sandpaper. Your skin was dull and a bit itchy. You were going downhill and you didn’t know what to do about it. 

When you noticed that a portion of the group had broken away from Rick, Shane, and Carl, you wondered if your mind was beginning to go as well. Why were they splitting up? Lost in your confusion, Daryl was nearly on top of you before you even realized he was approaching. 

“Wha’ the fuck d’ya think yer doin’?” He hissed in an exaggerated whisper. Oh, he was mad. Oh wait. He seemed to always be mad. “Don’ think I didn’ see ya sneakin’ off back there. Yer gonna get yerself killed.”

“You’re right.” You stood a little straighter. If you had to admit you were wrong, you would at least be confident about it. 

“D’ya think this is a game? There’s fuckin’ corpses out— wait, wha’? 

You barely suppressed a chuckle at his expression. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be out here. I’m a liability and I’m… not okay.”

“Daryl, we should go.” 

He held up a hand, silencing Andrea without even looking back. “Whaddaya mean ‘not okay’?”

“I can’t eat. I can’t even drink water without puking. I think… I think I might be—”

“Nah.” He interrupted, shaking his head. “Don’ even say tha’ shit. Jus’ need ta getch back to the RV. Y’can rest n’ I’ll take the bike. Find some meds or somethin’. Doubt anythin’ in Merle’s stash would be good fer the kid but I’ll check anyway.” 

“Huh.” You raised your eyebrows, damn near astonished. 

“Wha’?”

“I think that may be the most you’ve said to me at one time since we’ve known each other.” The corner of your mouth lifted and— it may have been a hallucination —you could have sworn you saw his lip twitch as well. 

“Stop. Can ya walk?”

“For now.” You took slow, albeit steady, steps to go around him, noticing that he never once tried to get ahead of you. He was worried. If you were this sick, what were the chances of your baby even making it? What if it was gone already?

“Le’s head back.” He instructed as the two of you passed by the suspicious gazes. Daryl had to lead them but his actions made it clear they would walk at his pace or venture ahead and get lost. Right now, his pace was your pace. You couldn’t make everyone suffer for your inability to keep up. The point was to search for Sophia, which meant as much ground needed covered as humanly possible. With a great amount of difficulty– and a few unsteady steps –you managed to pick up some speed. Daryl had taken only moments to be at your side once again, dipping his head as if requesting an explanation. 

“So this is it? This is the whole plan?” Carol’s meek voice came from behind you, both you and Daryl turning to regard her. With a hand on your shoulder, he steered you to a downed tree and pushed you to sit. 

“I guess the plan is ta whittle us down into smaller n’ smaller groups.” You felt a tap against the front of your shoulder while holding your head in your hands. Daryl was still focused on the discussion but was offering you a tumbler of water. 

“Thanks.” You mumbled. You’d be stupid to let your pride persuade you into rejecting the offer. He gave you a nod and continued to listen to Lori's defense of her husband. Personally, you had nothing against Rick and believed he had once again made a call that was twisted to come back and bite him in the ass. No one wanted to blame him but in the face of fear and grief, blame was an easy scapegoat.

“C’mon.” Daryl gave you a moment to take one more sip and then helped you stand, clipping the water container back to his belt loop. It was blatantly obvious that his concern was for his baby, which in turn ensured that he made sure you were safe and healthy, but you couldn’t lie: having him be kind to you was something you wished you could grow to depend on. It was nice. Fleeting but nice. 

A wave of dizziness had you listing to the side, only briefly fearing you’d fall before you felt his arm around your waist.

“Easy.” His voice was calm, almost soothing to your frayed nerves. As you got your feet back under you, you nodded that you were okay. He lingered, watching you with those deep blue pools. If you weren’t careful, you could get lost. 

Several feet behind, Andrea cleared her throat, pretending to be looking at something up in the canopy when both you and Daryl quickly separated. How long had you been staring at him? Your cheeks warmed, actually managing to make you feel impossibly worse. Although, he had been looking right back. The tiniest of smiles upturned your lips, unbidden.

And then there was the unmistakable echoing crack of a gunshot.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly, terribly wrong. Whether it was you or someone else in the group, the unease in your gut was more than the ever-plaguing nausea. Behind you, Lori had stopped again to look back from where you had all traveled from. 

You were all watching her, but Andrea was the one to speak up. “You still worrying about it?”

“It was a gun.” The dark-haired woman replied, her gaze still far away.

Daryl hadn’t moved from your side, and he was doing a terrible job at hiding his disquiet. “We all heard it.” 

Lori looked like she might start moving forward again, but she only managed to shift on her feet before looking back. “Why one? Why just one gun?”

You saw Daryl glance at you from the corner of your eye. He was losing patience. “Maybe they took down a walker.”

With a tilt of her head, her expression screamed unimpressed. “Please don’t patronize me. You know Rick wouldn’t risk a gun to put down one walker, or Shane. They’d do it quietly.”

Carol fidgeted where she stood, looking as if she felt she had to say something. “Shouldn’t they have caught up with us by now?”

Daryl took a breath. “There’s nothin’ we can do ‘bout it, anyway. Can’ run ‘round these woods chasin’ echoes.” He chanced a glance at you, and you knew then that he was eager to make them move to get you back to the RV. You’d never say anything yourself. That much was clear by how you had started to push yourself to move faster when you shouldn’t have been moving at all. Unfortunately, Lori didn’t seem to like that answer.

“So,what do we do? Same as we’ve been?”

“Beat the bush fer Sophia, work our way back ta the highway.” He hadn’t moved far from you at all, but extended an arm to indicate you should turn around and start walking. When there was a distinct lack of footfalls, you were the first to look back. Daryl looked at you before following suit. Carol and Andrea were engaged in conversation, though their hushed voices kept the nature inaudible. Daryl started toward them, waving you off when you tried to call him back.

“We’re all hoping and praying with you, for what it’s worth.” Andrea was offering a soft smile, extending some comfort to Carol. You winced when Daryl leaned in toward them.

“I’ll tell ya wha’ s’worth– not a damn thing. S’a waste’a time, all this hopin’ n’ prayin’. We’re gonna locate tha’ little girl. She’s gon’ be jus’ fine.” When he turned, you hid your smile behind your hand. “M’I the only one Zen ‘round here? Good lord.” There was nothing you could do to keep from chuckling. “Glad ya think s’funny.”

“Sorry.” You mumbled, still smiling, but at least treading onward. 

It wasn’t much longer before your legs felt like they might fail to hold your weight. Not only weak, but aching. You could feel your pulse pounding in your head. Daryl continued to offer you water, never bothering to drink any himself, you noticed.

“How much farther?” Lori gave voice to the question you had been thinking for the last half hour.

“Not much.” Daryl reached for you when you stumbled but you shook your head. His eyes remained on you when he continued his reply. “Maybe hundred yards as the crow flies.” The answer seemed to satisfy her for the moment at least. “Hey.”

You grimaced as the cramps you had been feeling in your legs seemed to move into your stomach. You hadn’t realized that your hand had immediately pressed into the area. When you finally heard Daryl and looked at him, you were bombarded by the naked concern shining in his eyes. 

“Y’want me ta carry ya?” 

Though taken aback by his offer, especially in front of the others after he had spent the better part of the day more focused on you than on the tracking he was out there to do, you shook your head adamantly. “No. No, I’m good.” Another cramp, only slightly sharper than the one that preceded it. It was still enough to have you draw a hissing breath through your teeth.

“Don’ mind. C’mon, ya need ta rest n’ we’re losin’ daylight.”

Before you could turn him down a second time, Andrea began screaming somewhere nearby. When had she wandered off? Daryl was readying his crossbow, tapping Carol on the shoulder as he started running. “Stay with ‘er!” He pointed back to you. The woman nodded even though he was long gone.

“You okay, honey?” She asked, brushing some hair away from your face after you selected a tree to lean against. “You look terrible.”

“I just need to rest. Maybe try to eat something.” You all but panted. The pain was still sporadic but each seemed to hurt worse than the last. As it was, you were torn between needing to vomit and the urge to drink the entire container of water Daryl was carrying. 

There was an awful commotion from the direction everyone had disappeared. Daryl soon came sprinting through, slipping the strap of his crossbow over his head before he reached you.

“Sorry.” He huffed between breaths at the same time he swept you up against his chest and continued toward the highway, everyone else right on his heels.

“What happened?” You asked breathlessly. If he noticed, he didn’t comment on it. 

“Some girl came ridin’ on a horse. Saved Andrea’s ass but she was lookin’ fer Lori.” Wincing at being jostled when everything already hurt, you opened one eye and caught his grim expression. “Carl got shot.”

The remaining members of your group made it back to the highway in record time without you holding them up. Daryl gingerly lowered you onto the steps of the RV and pressed the water tumbler into your hand. Then he left to go fill in Dale and T-Dog. 

Your hands were shaking as you sipped down some water. First Sophia went missing. Then Carl had been shot. Children weren’t spared from the cruelty of that world. You felt your eyes burn with the desire to cry, yet no tears would fall.

“There are no blessings anymore. Nothing real to hope for anymore.”

And for the first time, you considered the possibility that maybe what Jenner did had been intended as a mercy. How could you even consider bringing a baby into that hell? Maybe you should have stayed behind with Jacqui, letting her hold your hand as she had done after the blood draw. Maybe it would be better to let whatever was wrong with you steal from you until there was nothing left. 

Your chest began to pull tight again, your breaths quickening in an attempt to keep pulling in air. Your pulse was thrumming away in your temples, making your eyes ache and your vision blur. All you could think was how badly you wanted to cry but couldn’t. You sat up straighter in hopes that it would make breathing easier, a small sound escaping when your stomach cramped again. It must have been loud enough to alert Daryl because when you opened your eyes, he was walking toward you, his brow pinched in concern.

And in looking at him, watching him react to your discomfort because of the little life the two of you had created, you instantly regretted ever thinking your baby shouldn’t be allowed a chance. That Daryl shouldn’t be allowed a chance to be a father. 

“Hey, hey, wha’s wrong? Talk ta me, Y/N.” 

You were grabbing at his arms and attempting to stand, but in your panic, your voice failed you. The ability to breathe went right along with it. Halfway upright, with Daryl’s hands on your upper arms to aid you, you managed two words: “Something’s wrong.” 

“Shit. Okay. Listen, we’re jus’ gon’ get everythin’ together. Leave a note fer Sophia. Then we can–”

You cut him off with a scream that made his blood run cold. Your arms wrapped around your middle and held tight, trying to smother the pain stabbing relentlessly at you from the inside. In some distant, dark crevice of your mind, you felt him lift you and heard him shouting. There was the roar of an engine. Daryl’s bike. You blinked, dots and wavering images making it hard to decipher what was happening. You were sideways on the bike, cradled tightly to Daryl’s chest. How the hell? 

“Hey, listen ta me. Ya listening?” You gave him the weakest of nods. “Need ta hold onta me. Means ya gotta stay awake. Can ya do tha’?”

“Son, take a car. We can move more around and make a–”

You blinked slowly and watched Daryl look up and away from you. “There ain’t time!” You blinked again, his blue eyes back on you. “Y/N, can ya do tha’?!” You didn’t– couldn’t –answer verbally, but moved slightly to wrap your arms around his middle as tightly as you could, which wasn’t tight at all. “Stay awake.” He was already moving, pulling his legs up as he picked up speed. When your stomach cramped again, you only squeezed him tighter with a sob. “I gotcha. Just keep holdin’ on. Yer doin’ great.”

Minutes felt like an eternity, and eventually, you sacrificed holding up your head so the strength in your arms could hold true. When you opened your eyes, all you could see was blue sky. Blue like Daryl’s eyes. Would the baby have had his eyes? 

The wind was no longer blowing. The sound of the engine had disappeared, but you were moving. Daryl was yelling. There were other voices but you were too tired; it hurt too badly. So when darkness beckoned, you took her hand.

Taglist:

@stitchintimefan @thegeorgiahuntsman @livingdeadblondequeen @deansapplepie @feral4daryl @walker-bait-1973 @lazyneonrabbit @bizquake @littlelovingideas @ririi-3 @ankhmutes @blackvelveteen1339 @sokkasimp101 @lehhos @1ivinqdeadqir1main @loganlostitall @sshewonders @callmeyn @queenmizuki @crazyunsexycool @zehiiro @sunnybunnyy2 @gimalo135 @lothiriel9 @lilyevanstan1325 @gutsby @isakyakiisak @in-this-minute @eljaynosine_triphosphate @hutchersonsgurl @abbyreedus @wifeof-barnes @BananaFire11 @graciepies @Alaaabdaldeen @georgiadixon @mfnqueen1 @Esgoraths @fanngirl19 @she-could-never @Kenzimae67 @nessa-mayfield @ilovedilfs4everthings @s0urw00lf @Miyah-hearts @the-lonely-abyss @bymailin @angelbunny222 @m0ss-g0blin @d0p3ys-delusions @blazeflays @annhells @abi67sblog @Nessieart @imgeorgeclooney @brinteylovesaliens @eduardast4rgirl @ass-butt-themusical @daryldixmedown @alanamarie @Bultamer @secretmelanie

[shkudss]

Weakened by Eywa Pt. 2

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Masterlist

Summary: Ao'nung finally realizes that his actions have consequences

Warnings: curse words, bullying, mental breakdown, English isn't my first language

Author's note: tbh I didn't plan it to be longer than 2 parts, but now I think it'll be about 4-5 part (but I'm not sure lol). Anyways, I hope you will like it!

Yawntutsyip - darling, little loved one

Yaymak - foolish, ignorant

Yayo - bird

When Neytiri and Jake saw you in a complete mess on Neteyam’s hands, they thought something bad happened with you in the water.

Kiri and Lo’ak explained what happened without hiding any details. Neytiri was so furious that she was ready to take her bow and fight this little ignorant boy. She knew that he was annoying her kids, but didn’t expect it to be as bad as it turned out. On the other hand, there was Jake. He was furious too, he knew that his attitude towards all situations when Ao’nung annoyed his kids caused it. He shouldn’t have told his kids to respect him just because he’s Olo’eyktan’s son. That was his fault.

“Tonowari must know what his son did.” Neytiri was crying like any mother who sees her child in pain. Especially that type of pain which you cannot see. “Ma Jake, tell something! We can’t let that go. My daughter is hurt and only Eywa knows if she’ll be able to heal!”

Jake looked at her and all his kids, who were waiting for his response. Neteyam was still holding you like a baby while you were sleeping. His daughter, his little yayo. He has to protect you.

“I’ll talk to Tonowari.”

“I’ll go with you.” Neytiri wanted to talk to Ronal and say her all this she had to carry inside of her soul since they arrived here.

Jake didn’t want her to come, he knew that she was extremely emotional now. He gave her a look asking if he’s sure it’s the right thing. Neytiri was determined to do that.

“Wait here, take care of your sister.”

***

“I’ll talk to him and he’ll be punished for his actions. I’m really sorry for what happened. I didn’t raise him this way. I hope Y/N will forgive him one day.”

Toniwari and Ronal were in a huge shock when Jake told them what Ao’nung did. The shame Olo’eyktan and his Tsahik felt wasn’t even close to the amount of pain Jake and Neytiri had to carry.

“Don’t ever let him come to my daughter again! If I notice him even thinking about coming to her, I swear I will not control myself.”

“Neytiri...” Jake didn’t want relationship with leader’s family to worsen.

“She’s right. He should stay away from her. I don’t want him to hurt an innocent soul again. I promise, we’ll look after him.” Ronal knew how Neytiri must feel herself now. “I promise as mother to mother. If you need help, tell me.”

Neytiri just nodded, she was still not over her emotions. But she was thankful for this. Ronal was the only one who could understand her at least a little.

***

It’s been two weeks since your breakdown. These two weeks you’ve been taken care by your whole family and you barely walked out of your Marui. You felt like you were dried out. No emotions at all. Jake and Neytiri were extremely worried about your mental state. You barely talked to anyone, even Kiri, and preferred to do things on your own.

Neteyam didn’t even think about keeping your lessons on ilu riding. He tried to catch your interest on other things, but nothing caught your eye. Even Tuk tried to ask you questions to talk just a little. You had no energy to keep the conversation and pay proper attention to your little sister.

“Let’s go find some seashells?” Tuk didn’t give up on you.

“Tuk, I have no strength to do that. I’m tired.” You felt really bad every time you refused Tuk, but you couldn’t help it.

“Neteyam and Lo’ak are hunting, Kiri as usually disappeared. Mom and dad don’t let me do there alone. Please, I need you.” She started whimpering and shaking your hand.

“Okay, okay. But only for 30 minutes.”

“Thank you, I love you! Best sister ever!” Seeing Tuk jumping in happiness and saying those words warmed your heart. You smiled a little at the scene of here trying to find her little bag for seashells.

Once you went out of your house, you squinted because of the sunlight. These two weeks definitely affected you. The warmth of the sun and brightness of azure water reminds you of how you loved Pandora.

Tuk was holding your hand and trying to hurry you up to the shore. It became her hobby since you arrived here. Each in your family has at least one bracelet she made out of shells.

“I’ll sit here, you can go. Call me if you need help.” You were sitting exactly as that day with Kiri. The feeling of light waves surrounding you, calmed you a little. You were watching Tuk swimming and looking for colorful seashells. Sometimes she was distracted by some fish. As you were supervising little sister, you fell deep into thoughts and remembered that day. Sadness you felt all these days became more explicit.

You don’t know how to explain this sadness and why you feel it. You should be angry, offended, but not sad. Ao’nung said horrible things to you, but you’re not angry. Why?

“Oh Great Mother, help me. Let me come over this. I want to be happy again.” You whispered to yourself, feeling the tear falling to the water.

“Y/N…?”

Him.

You feel nervousness raising up in your body. Eywa must be testing you. You’re afraid to turn your head to Ao’nung.

“Please, don’t do this to me again. I can’t bear it anymore.” Your voice was trembling a little, but it was enough for him to understand your state. Especially, when he finally looked at you. Your eyes were like a glass, but without even a little sparkle.

He was standing about 2 meters away from you to keep distance.

“Y/N, I wanted…”

“What are you doing here?!” Lo’ak was furious, walking briskly towards him.

“Bruh, why are you always here.” You heard Ao’nung mumbling it annoyingly. You didn’t wasn’t really worried about what’s going to happen. Feels like you’re a doll without real emotions.

“You’ve been told you to stay away from Y/N. Are you that yaymak? Do you need us to punch you again to understand it?” Your brother came to him as close as possible and pointed at his chest aggressively. Lo’ak just like Neytiri was ready to fight him.

“I wanted to talk to her… normally.” Ao’nung raised his hands as a sign of peace and tried to stay as calm as possible. Even though his fists were itchy to punch him. “I won’t hurt her”.

“I don’t care. You’ve talked to her already and you see the result. It’s her first time outside since the past two weeks. Don’t make it worse.” Lo’ak lowered his voice so you won’t hear their conversation. You didn’t really care and turned back to keep watching after Tuk. She didn’t notice things happening on the beach, she was involved in her hobby. Her little bag was already full of shells, but she wanted to get more.

“Hey, you finally wanted to get some sun?” In a couple if minutes Lo’ak was sitting next to you. He wasn’t mad anymore.

“No, Tuk asked me to. All of you were too busy to accompany her in finding seashells. I didn’t want to let her down.” You smiled a little, watching your sister smiling as she find another colorful thing.

“But…” you noticed Lo’ak hesitating about something.

“What’s wrong?”

“Never mind. I’m glad you’re finally getting out of Marui. We are forest Na’vis, not Marui Na’vis.” He chuckled a little at his own joke and you couldn’t help but do it too.

Maybe, it’s not that bad.

Thank you, Great Mother.

***

Another two weeks passed. Since that day each member of your family tried to take you outside. Now you go out on your own just to think about your feelings. You are still trying to stay away from water and haven’t swam yet, but you’ve been exploring the little forest that’s actually pretty comfortable. It reminds you of home and you don’t have to hold your breath or ride ilu here.

You can be yourself.

Now you play with fan lizards and even laugh a little. It’s kind of meditation. Spending time in your environment, your home, helps your mental state. Jake says that you shouldn’t go deep into forest and you assure him that you won’t, but sometimes you loose the track of time and forget about your promise. What this happens, Neteyam is always first who goes to find you.

You feel unity with Eywa. It’s your secret, sacred place. You have a little pond here, some fruits growing on the trees and silence. This is your little world free from all worries, free from reality. You fulfill your energy here and nobody interrupts you peace.

You were sitting on the thick branch, involved in making a little bracelet from beads for Tuk. She gifted you a lot of bracelets and necklaces she made. You want to pay her back.

Suddenly your senses catch someone’s presence. Nobody is supposed to find you. It’s afternoon and none of your family should be trying to find you. Leaving all things, you silently stood up and tried to hide behind the tree as Neytiri taught you. You looked behind your shoulder to check who’s that, your knife is ready to serve you.

You heard stranger’s steps coming closer to the tree. You were getting ready to attack, no unnecessary thoughts were in your mind. Just as mom taught you. This is your place, your forest.

Another step and you catch this person, pushing them to a tree and putting a knife to their neck.

“Holy shit!”

You look up. Why is he here?

“Ao’nung? What are you doing here?”

All your strength disappeared the moment you realized who’s standing in front of you. Fear replaced it, slowly taking control over you.

You’re alone, with him.

“No, no, no, Y/N”

You walked back, still holding your knife firmly to protect yourself, but your hands were shaking which made things obvious. You’re just like a little animal who’s afraid but has nothing to do but protect yourself as you can.

“Don’t…”

“Y/N, I wanted to talk to you. Please, let me speak.”

You were afraid to trust him. Because his words hurt you. You’re afraid to hear him speaking to you. But the way he looks at you, his eyes aren’t filled with anger. You take your time, considering his words.

Ao’nung was waiting patiently, he was afraid to do something wrong. Examining your concerned look, he prayed to Eywa for you to trust him. The effort he put to find you and go through this forest without being injured was enormous. Now he understands how hard it is for you to get used to Metkayina’s way of life. He should have thought about it before.

“Don’t come here again.”

And you left, leaving him alone in this forest.

“You are skxawng, Ao’nung.”

--------------------------------------------------------

P.S. There wasn't a lot of Aonung and y/n's conversations and I focused more on her recovery and feelings process, but I hope you liked it! Next parts will be more about Aonung and Y/N! Also, i'm not really sure how taglist thing really work, I hope I did it right🫣

Anyways, if you want to be tagged, comment and I'll add you!

Peace, friendship, bubblegum✌🏻💗

Taglist: @elegantkidfansoul @ijwsbdinp

[cozycottagetarot]

Quick Pick: Messages From Your Person

Hello, my loves! It's been way too long, but I'm finally back (hopefully for a long time) with a new reading as well as a bit of a rebrand. Today's reading is focused on messages from your person (kind of in the realm of a future spouse but generally a long-term partner) but I think for some of you it may come across as a current partner as well.

This is a pretty experimental reading for me. I want to start including an 'energy check' of sorts to help you better figure out if a pile is for you or not. I've done 'channelled' messages before but I felt weird about them so I've decided to give it a try again. The message aspect of this reading is just a free-flow writing of the cards that were pulled. And of course, I decided to play around a little bit more with my graphics. I'm always open to feedback, so I'd love to gather your thoughts on the set-up and reading itself.

Elle 🌿

P.S. I'm trying to re-do my masterlist but can't locate all my old pacs easily. If you come across one, I wouldn't mind if you send me the link. 🙏

Support My Work | MASTERLIST

Disclaimer: When reading tarot, my aim is to focus on self-reflection and seeking guidance. The readings you'll find here are designed to add a pinch of fun and entertainment to your day. While I might sprinkle in some advice that hopefully vibes with you, please remember that these insights aren't a substitute for any professional advice you might need-- after all, you know your journey best! For any love-related or future-focused readings, consider them captivating musings exploring possibilities. Divination inspired stories even. I can't predict the future but I do hope to add some enjoyment and insights into your everyday. Lastly my darlings, please take from these readings what resonates with you most, be it some, all or none, and leave the rest. 🌟

PILE 1

Note: Pile 1 your pile gave me absolute hell the first time around 😭. I was writing/channelling the message and the energy literally just gave way at one point, I was flabbergasted 🫨. Anyway, the second pull was much clearer, but I included notes I felt were important from the first pull in the post-reading notes section.

Your Energy:

Going through an awakening. A need or call for self-reflection. A new cycle is beginning. You must face what you are running from within, but you must also be patient. Rely on your inner strength. Needing to learn more about yourself before doing/trying something different. Potentially finding yourself in part of a mentorship. Connecting with people similar to yourself. Navigating regrets. Needing to let go of the old you. Needing to ground yourself.  A strong energy of needing to look within yourself. It is time to prepare yourself for your next journey.

The Message:

Can you let the past go? We’ve been through so much, the both of us, on our own and together. Why do you hold on to it when our future is waiting for us? I know I hurt you and I apologize. You didn’t deserve any of the pain I caused you. I don’t blame you [it felt like there was a specific reason but I couldn’t get the specifics] but I feel lost without you. I could tell you why, I want to, but words mean nothing without action. You know my story. My relationship with my mother, how that shaped me. You know I love the attention of it all, having everyone’s eyes on me. Makes me feel good.. makes me feel. But no one else’s attention mattered like yours did. I felt most close to myself with you. Please, please let go of that version of me you’re holding onto in your head. I’m taking space because I need to heal. I need to heal my relationship with me first before I can heal it with us. This isn’t goodbye; just so long for now. I’m taking time to put that me in the past too and find myself and what I want from this life. I mean it’s simple really, I want you, us. I want to give you the good life you deserve, but I need to fix myself first. Give me the self-love I deserve.

Post-Reading Notes:

There’s a mature, sad regretful energy. Someone on a journey of self-exploration. Two hurting souls who met at the wrong time. One of you may be further along in your healing journey or you’ve both healed parts of yourself and your relationship that the other one hasn’t healed yet.

First Pull Notes:

One of the first things that came to mind for me is a dark night of the soul… I haven’t heard that term in so long and I’ve completely forgotten what it means, but for someone in this pile, I feel like that may resonate a lot. Going through a tough time. Blow after blow. Your higher self or inner wisdom is trying to reach you. Introspection before a new beginning. An ending of something you don’t want to let go of?

Big things are happening in your life, and significant changes are taking place even though it might not seem that way right now. Lots of air energy. Gaining mental clarity is super important for you right now. Breakup vibes? You two are like opposite sides or motivations of the same energy. Holding on when you know you should let go. This is definitely your person (one of the cards literally says ‘You’re my person’).

PILE 2

Your Energy:

For some of you are at the end of suffering but lying to yourself about the truth of the outcome, while for others you’re running from the mistakes made along the way. Maybe it's both. You’re still grieving all that is lost, be gentle with yourself. Hard work and consistency may await you but keep at it. Adventure is closer than you think. You’re on the brink of success. Moving forward hurts, but you must. Your person (or something you've been romanticising) is waiting for you. You just have to be brave enough to step through the gate. Opportunities are coming your way. If you're interested in floral hobbies or embroidery go for it.

The Message:

I hear you. I haven’t given up on you. I hear the songs you play for me, I hear the songs of your heart. You’re my love, my soulmate. We were meant to be, you and me. You’re not crazy or insane, or any other term you demean yourself with. You’re my everything. I can feel your soul even though we’re apart. If I close my eyes hard enough, I can feel you there. I can see your sparkling soul mirroring mine... sad eyes, bright smile, you leave me in awe. I know you call to me, and I’m sorry I’m not there. Don’t hate me for it, please. I’m leaving behind all that has been holding me back… the same as you. I’m sorry it’s so lonely. I want to meet. What do you say? Impromptu trip to the tropics? Somewhere cold? I just want to escape the world with you and lie in your arms. You’re my home. I sit in your energy and let it guide me your way. But I do need time. Please be patient with me. I haven’t abandoned you. I’m finding me, for you. I dream about you so often and being the kind of person you’d inspire me to be.

Post-Reading Notes:

"I need you to run to me, run to me, lover." (Run by Hozier, the chorus specifically. I know the song is supposed to be a metaphor but I'm suggesting it at face value). A very healing energy to your person's messages. Your person could also fantasise about you a lot... in a non-x-rated 18+ kind of way. It was mentioned on one of the cards but that part of the card felt awkward in the rest of the cards. They’re possessive, it doesn't seem like in a negative or extreme way but again, that's not something that was strong or clear. There’s something to do with the attention of others. They just want to be yours completely… Honestly, a submissive yet dominant kind of energy. A protector and/or provider (take that as you will) who is absolutely smitten with you and will do anything you say.

I don't typically read for it, but one of the cards had twin flame written on it. It could also be symbolic of mirroring each other in your personal journeys in life.

PILE 3

Your Energy:

Powerful yet solitary energy. A new chapter of your life. Accomplishing a big goal. Moving to a new location. Creating a good foundation for yourself in preparation for what comes next. Balancing your energies. Sleep issues. Struggling with anxiety or managing thoughts after a traumatic event. Celebration. Having security. Authoritarian role or vibes.

The Message:

Okay, I can do this: I can’t get you off of my mind. I’m constantly thinking of you, viewing your content, trying to set myself up to run into you. I know it’s silly, especially since you hurt me. Who pines after the person that hurt them? Well, it wasn't meant to be mean. You’re just so mysterious I can’t ever read you and it or you make me nervous. I’m always worrying about what to say. I want to talk to you but opening up to others is hard. I’m afraid I’ll start crying or you’ll hear my voice crack. You’re my person. I’m sure of it. You’re everything I’ve hoped for in a person, everything I dream about before I go to sleep at night. You’re doing so well for yourself, but I want to spoil you and be there for you. Not always materially. I know you can cover that for yourself. But being there for you and spending time with you… I heard you were seeing someone. I hope it’s not true and even if it is, I hope it doesn't last. No, I’m not sorry. I’m going to work up the courage to reach out to you soon.

Post-Reading Notes:

Oh Pile 3, you’re so intimidating to your person. Secret admirer vibes. I definitely think you’ve got a very serious or professional energy and an intimidating appearance. That may especially be true if you’re taller than average for your demographic/s. The energies here feel very balanced or neutral (not heavily feminine or masculine) on both your end and theirs.

PILE 4

Your Energy:

Such a beautiful light-hearted energy. There’s such a beautiful and hopeful energy in this relationship here but it’s also possible someone or something is working against you right now. A very important decision is being made. Someone could be trying to take something from you, but keep going. You’ve got this incredible power/energy to you. Vows are super important, be it making them with someone else or making a vow to yourself to gain or achieve something. Collaboration. Having everything you need to succeed. There could be challengers coming your way but you're strong enough to overcome them.

The Message:

I’m sorry. I don’t know, that was immature of me. I swear it wasn’t like you thought but don’t worry I’m going to do better. Honest. You know, I dream about us being together and growing old. I dream about our kids. They’re so stinking cute. We’ve still got growing to do, ok, or I’ve still got growing to do. Please talk to me. You know I hate it when you give me the silent treatment. I know I disappeared on you and that wasn’t cool. I just get so… I care about you a lot. I don’t want to see you hurt. I want the best for you. I know I act all big and bad but I’m a softie at heart. That fight was weird. I don’t like it. It wasn’t like us. It meant nothing I know. Would you pack up and run away with me if I asked? I hate the distance between us right now. Im always listening to our playlist. I know I acted like I'm uninterested in something serious but I am. I want you. I miss you. I want to spoil you and give you everything you deserve. Just give me a chance. Please hear me out.

Post-Reading Notes:

The vibes while doing the reading felt like very young vibes? There’s a youthfulness there. Someone who either is actually young in age or hasn’t grown up emotionally in a certain aspect. It felt like they did something prideful that was hurtful to you and you two are in a disconnect during the moment captured in the reading. It didn’t feel like a serious fight. More so when you’re upset with someone and acting like you’re madder than you really are (your vibes) and the other person is sweating and begging you to talk to them again (their vibes).

Also, idk why but Peter Parker kept coming into my head 🕸️. I’m not feeling to analyse it so take it as you will.

[strawberrysprinkledonut]

Renter Problems

yandere!celebrity x gn!reader

Synopsis: You're trying to find a place near your university to stay, and you've managed to find a mansion owned by a celebrity to live in. His name is Jacob, and you've known him since middle school, living in the same city as him. He's blown up as the new, hot celebrity thanks to the movie he's starred in, though, while you're just struggling to pass by. But he's been acting strange, and you're determined to .move out Details: Physical and verbal abuse, drugging, manipulation, gender neutral reader

Living with this man was hard. His constant need for your attention and approval, his strange comments, his overall eccentric way of living. At first, living in a celebrity mansion for a cheap price had seemed like a dream, but instead, it'd turned into a burden.

You sit up on the bed, leaning your back on the headboard and look out the floor to ceiling length window to see the sun slowly setting. You want to find a stable, normal place to stay in soon as possible.

You had posted an ad online so renters could contact you if their spot became available. You felt more secure with that back up in mind. You suppose thinking so much about Jacob attracted him because you suddenly hear a knock at your door.

"You there?" He asks, opening the door without waiting for a response.

"What's the point of knocking if you can't wait for a response?" You ask.

"It's my house, that's my door." He responds with a straight face.

"Sure..." You respond, not having the energy to argue.

"Anyways!" He claps his hand and points and you. "Want to watch my new movie with me? Pretty good if I say so myself."

You shift uncomfortably, bringing your knees to your chest. He's a bit closer to you now.

"Um, sorry Jacob but I feel a bit tired."

Jacob's smile drops. "What, you don't want to spend any time with me?"

"Huh?" You almost laugh out loud. "Do roommates have to spend time with each other? I'm paying my share of the rent, right? Do I have to be friends with you?"

Yikes. Was that a little mean of you?

Jacob would say yes, that was really, really mean of you. He was just trying to be nice.

Jacob sits at the end of your bed and you look at him confused.

"Y/n... ...Tell me the truth. Do you-" He stares at his lap. "Do you still hate me for what I've done to you when we were younger? Could you ever forgive me?"

You're stunned that he's asking for your forgiveness, but another part of you is hesitant to accept his apology, as you go through the multiple events where he'd picked on you at school. Small things, like name calling and throwing paper balls at your back.

"Oh! Um- well..." Your words falter. You have a grudge against him, but nothing so big that you would bring it up to discuss.

Jacob forces tears to form in his eyes and looks up at you. His glossy, brown eyes, all sad and red. It's fake, but you don't know that.

"Y/n the truth is I've always loved you. I admired you so much but I was too embarrassed to say my true feelings to you. Because I was scared of being rejected." Your stomach turns and you feel bad.

"I- aw.." You try to say something to comfort him but you can't form words.

You crawl to the end of the bed and you hug him. His big arms wrap around you as well and it feels more like he's cradling you rather than you embracing him. Your small form is engulfed in his arms and you start to feel calm. Jacob feels pretty good right now too.

"Jacob, don't cry, I'm sorry." You whisper to him. Sorry for what, you didn't fucking know.

"You hate me, right?"

"No! I don't!" You assure.

He gazes into your eyes. "Do you like me?" He softly asks you, not breaking eye contact.

You're speechless right now.

You part your lips and you're about to toss out some words about you and him having potential to be friends, but you're interrupted.

By Jacob pressing his own lips on your slightly open mouth. He moves his right hand to the back of your head supporting you and kisses you harder, pulling you in.

You gasp and push him off, jumping up on your feet.

"Shit! What was that!?" You exclaim. You stare at him, shocked by what just happened. You feel hot and dizzy.

Jacob looks at you. "Sorry." He mutters and leaves, locking your door on his way out.

You're left to be on your own, stewing in confusion.

It's not a matter of want now, but a need to move out immediately. Like the universe is helping you, you get a notification on your laptop about an available renter who's willing to rent out a cheap basement near your university.

You're leaving, tomorrow.

-----

You've woken up this morning feeling determined and energized. You've contacted the renter and you were supposed to move in next week but you begged her to let you move in tomorrow, and you've taken up on packing. 

Thankfully, Jacob is gone again, doing his celebrity work, whatever that could entail. 

You haven't seen him once since yesterday, when he confessed his love to you, then kissed you. You hadn't wanted to be kissed, or at least you think so.

On paper, maybe you should have enjoyed it. Jacob is attractive. He has loose waves and a pretty face. It felt bad, and gross, but it had also felt good, the kiss. Yet, you didn't think you could be in a relationship like that. With him. 

Who knows where that kiss could have gone. It may have escalated...

You cross your legs and squeeze your thighs thinking of the possibilities. You feel warm.

You should have hated the kiss. You did, but maybe not enough. Did you like Jacob? Oh my god. No, he was a total creep, and he hadn't even asked to kiss you.

He was only thinking of his own needs again, being selfish, just as he always had been with his inflated ego.

You've almost finished packing and it's early afternoon. You stretch yourself onto the bed and doze off.

-----

"Y/n? Are you home?" Jacob calls up. 

"Yeah, I'm here." You call down. 

"Come down, I brought dinner." 

You walk down the stairs and Jacob is in awe of your beauty. You have a glow. It's not the lighting, you're just a natural beauty, you're special. 

"Really? What'd you get?" You ask. Should you tell him the news that you're moving out after or during dinner? After, you decide. 

"I just got some Italian food." 

You smile at him. "Nice, I love pasta." 

"There's more to Italian food than pasta," He begins.  

You raise your eyebrows. "So no pasta?"

He grins. "Of course pasta." 

You're glad things are back to normal, because delivering the news will be easier now. Jacob unpacks everything and you smell the warm food, margherita pizza, pasta... 

You bring to the table 2 plates. 

As the 2 of you sit down, you stare at the plate most of time and eat ravenously. You've been so hungry all day, this is a blessing. 

Jacob tells you about the new interview he did, and how he had to sign "a 1000 autographs" 

Dinner is soon finished and Jacob brings out a bottle of wine. "Let's have a drink on the sofa." He suggests. You hesitate. "It's fine, everyone drinks Y/n, don't be so prudish" You relax on the sofa and taste the wine in your glass. It's fine, but you would really prefer anything else.

Jacob turns on the t.v. He sighs. "I've been lonely recently to an empty house, I'm glad you're here with me now." 

Aw man, why'd he have to say that? You freeze and the sentence you've been building up to saying gets stuck. You feel warm and fuzzy because of the wine. Your eyes feel kind of heavy too. 

"Speaking of- speaking of empty houses, I hate to say this Jacob, but I am leaving... ...tomorrow." You tell him, looking past him. 

Jacob stares at you with sharp eyes with that sentence. 

"What do you mean. When will you be back?" He asks, suddenly, and harshly, grabbing your wrist. 

"Jacob, I'm moving out." You say, trying to remain gentle. You notice the strange look on his face, it's not anger or sadness, or maybe it is? You're not sure. "I mean, I'll visit! Dinner at your place sometimes?" You add, trying to appease him.

He tightens the grip on your wrist. 

"Ow! Jacob, stop, it hurts! My wrist hurts!" You shout. You try to twist it out of his hand but it hurts more doing that. He doesn't let go. His eyes darken. 

"What, is it because of this kiss yesterday? You know, I'm sorry, but you wanted it too. I could tell." He asks, staring directly at your own eyes, unmoving. 

"Huh? Jacob you're ridiculous. I didn't want it, and yeah, one of the factors is the kiss. Also what you just said to me. Let go." 

"Don't go, stay." He tells you. 

"I've already made all the plans. I'm moving tomorrow. You probably didn't notice but I'm done packing." You retort back, trying to move away. 

Jacob slaps you in the face. The sting leaves you paralyzed in fear. "I said, don't go!" He shouts. He lets go your wrist and you notice immediately the numbness and redness on your wrist. 

You break down in tears and you start to scream for help. A neighbour, someone, anybody, to hear this and call the police.

But the alcohol blurs and softens your actions, like a terrible dream. Your arms feel weak. And that's when you realize that Jacob didn't have any wine himself. Had he meant for you to become intoxicated by yourself?

"Shut up!" Jacob barks at you and pulls you by your hair. "I confess my feelings toward you and you choose the coward's way and leave? Instead of working on this relationship?" 

"Stop!" You sob. Jacob stuffs a kitchen towel in your mouth and holds it their to stop your screaming. He then wraps it with a ripped plastic bag to secure.

You gag and almost throw up with the sudden intrusion of a foreign object in your mouth.

Holding your wrists with one hand he searches for something else. 

Jacob squats to your level and brings out a needle with a strange liquid already prepared inside. Your eyes widen and and your muffled screams do nothing to help your case.

"I didn't want to use it this early, but you're trying to leave. Leave us." He explains. 

"It'll hurt by the way. It's supposed to make you fall asleep. I think the alcohol is not supposed to be taken with this, but you escalated the situation so there's no helping it. I didn't want to do this. I wanted to have some fucking damn food with you. You're the one who's robbing me of choices and making me into a monster." 

Even in your panic you notice him rambling.

He's frantic and crazed, like a desperate maniac, sweat beads and wide pupils. 

He grabs your upper arm and quickly injects the strange liquid into your body.

 It hurts. 

All your muscles seize up and it feels like you're being ripped to shreds. Your body slowly goes limp and you feel yourself falling into a deep darkness. 

[paper-mario-wiki]

hi, i'm not the person who asked you about the life update, but could you elaborate on how being a creator means to live in a world of ideas instead of the real world? i'm just really curious about your reasons for quitting, specially because i want to create things in the future (not necessarily streaming, but anyways), hope you have a good day!

i'll be talking mostly about streaming for the sake of this answer, but this is similarly applicable across a wide range of platforms:

the job of the streamer is, effectively, to be the life of the party every single day. your goal is to be the person that has something interesting to talk about, and is quick with a joke, and has nuanced understandings of certain things, without actually obtaining any sort of "expertise" in anything lest you alienate viewers. short of having a stated goal for a stream, the only goal of the streamer is to let people relax with a voice they enjoy, saying things they like hearing. you can become very strong in different aspects of streaming, like in the production, or as someone who focuses more on a skill they've honed like art or speedrunning, but the demographic of streamers which pulls, by far, the most significant viewership, is personality based streamers.

this becomes more complicated when, for example, you are very interactive with chat, or you stream with multiple people at once. now, to maintain this charismatic sway you have (the one that got you the job in the first place), you must be able to adapt to and bounce off of other people, as you are now no longer performing alone. naturally, there's a need to not only manage your own flow of consciousness, but also to be at least partially in sync with someone else's.

beyond these complications, you must also consider drawing in new viewership. when i was a streamer, i was quite successful, relatively speaking. pulling 300 viewers consistently is something a very slim amount of streamers can actually do, and even then i was still making under 50k a year, which is not bad, but also not good. in paying for my apartment, my insurance, my travel fare, and all the other stuff that living independently draws money out of you with, i was more often in the red than i was in the green. hence, the need to draw in new viewers, which cannot be done without something eye-catching.

think about this: there are, at any given time, TENS OF THOUSANDS of streamers live in your native language on twitch, and they are all FREE TO WATCH. the attention market is sparse because the streamer market is oversaturated. and considering all of THEM want new viewers too, everyone is constantly refining and improving their craft, which requires everyone to move creatively in tandem with each other lest they get left behind.

if you are a streamer making ass-dollars and ass-cents, it becomes easy to begin resenting people like jerma, solely because everything he touches seems to turn to gold. i personally found it easy to feel very disappointed in myself when peoples projects that seemed so simple would take off. it was a constant "why didn't i think of that!" situation, at least for me. and when you don't have the energy to keep that up, or the social stamina necessary to figure that all out while also being upbeat and happy in front of people near daily, it can become very draining.

what i mean specifically when i say the "world of ideas", is like. there would be times where i could schedule out my failures weeks in advance. i'd be so in my own head about the process, i could see the exact path i could see myself taking that would lead me directly to ruin. how playing games i actually enjoyed would steadily drop viewership, or how focusing on my studies would make people forget about me. and of course this is augmented by my anxiety, i know this is absolutely not the case for every streamer, but that overwhelming feeling of needing to find a new game to play, or a new gimmick to use, or a new ploy to get money that doesn't make you feel guilty even though your source of income is mostly queer and mostly poor young adults and your rent is coming up and you're $200 short but you also just had a fundraiser last month about a DIFFERENT emergency but you cant make it a bummer or else people wont want to tune in so you have to make it something fun like "you laugh you lose!" or "$1 art request streams!" while feeling nothing but anxiety while youre trying to sound like youre enjoying yourself even when youre asking 250 people to donate every 30 minutes or so and nobody seems to want to and chat is moving slowly and. and and.

well, it starts to eat away at you.

[luveline]

Hi! I remember a while ago you said zombie!au Steve might have a hobby of drawing? Would love to see some of that maybe w r as his muse:D

steve zombie!au fem. 1k

You return to the camp with your new best friend at your side. In matching coats, no less. 

"Christ," Steve says, shaking his head in disgust. 

He loves —loves— that you have a friend, someone who might care about you just as much as he does. You deserve to be loved, and cherished, and known for your worth. You're a human vestibule of sweetness and God knows it wasn't going to be long before someone else noticed. 

But matching coats? "Alright, where's mine?" he asks. 

"Didn't have your size, handsome," Eddie says, giving you a quick and purely amicable hug. "See you later." 

He scampers off to who knows where and you sit down. You don't hide your happy smile, and Steve's glad for it even if it does make him jealous.  "He's so nice," you say. 

"No, he's not." 

"He is. He's almost as nice as you. And he helped me find you something." 

"After he outfitted my girlfriend in a couple's costume. I'm surprised he had the energy." 

"You're so jealous," you say, your happy smile growing in size with the seconds. 

"I'm actually making myself feel sick." 

"I can wear a different coat if it–" 

"Shut up! As long as you like me better, wear what you want." He shakes off his petty jealousy and takes your hand. For once, he's sitting on a towel rather than just grass or dirt, but his efforts to avoid extensive grass stainage mean nothing when your muddy shoe brushes his leg. "Nice. Thanks." 

"Sorry, sorry," you murmur, swinging your backpack off of your shoulder and sighing as you bend into yourself. "Jeez, my back hurts." You breathe out, a low moan of sound that drags. He can feel your pain. (He can't, but he figures that he loves you so much you're now connected spiritually to one another.) "How come I keep going on these expeditions and you keep staying home?" 

"I'm good with the kids." 

"Mm. Maybe you'll come on the next one anyways? I miss you when I'm gone." 

"I miss you too," he says. "More, I'd say." 

You giggle. "Whatever, you always have to be better than me. Shut up! Shut up, I'm trying to give you the things I found for you." 

Steve draws a zipper closed over his lips and flicks away the key. You get into these moods with each other sometimes, perhaps from having spent as much time together as you have, where a faked aggression rises between you. It's almost like you would've spoken at the start of the end of the world, when it was him and you alone, and Steve wasn't in the best of moods. The play fighting soon dies down as you open your bag; receiving gifts is always a pleasure. 

"First, underwear." 

"Thank you," he says, accepting the eight pack of boxers you offer like a man who's crawled the Sahara being given a glass of water. "So much." 

"You're welcome. Socks, a shirt, a new belt, a brace for your knee." You dump it on the towel next to him one by one. Your bag must've been heavy carrying all this, and it keeps going. You've brought him soap, hair elastics, razor blades, chapstick. The community you belong to is heavy on sharing, but you're free to bring home whatever you like so long as you're willing to carry it unaided once you've contributed to the food drive. You've clearly crammed your bag full of stuff for him, unveiling only underwear and socks for yourself. 

"You couldn't find any toothpaste?" he asks. 

You toss a pack of cigarettes at him without force. "Sadly, no. But I think Robin can get us some with those, right?" 

"I wanna smoke these so bad." 

You laugh and shake your head, fondly disapproving. "You don't! We can just kiss more, alleviate your cravings." 

"Weirdo." 

You lean forward, putting your cold hand on his cheek to leverage him closer. "You knew this when you met me," you say, kissing his cheek.

Steve's good on the cravings front after that. He swears that when things are at their worst a kiss from you could keep him going. Your lips can ease the ache of an empty stomach and the shattering heat of his ever-sprained knee.

You pull away gently like you're worried you'll hurt him in your detangling. Honestly, you might. Steve imagines you leaving sometimes like his arm being torn off. 

You reach back into the back for a parcel wrapped in a shirt for protection. The pencils and sketchbook you got Steve are long gone, lost with the rest of your possessions in the middle of a college campus on the Michigan border. Finding things like that is hard, and it hasn't been on Steve's mind. 

Apparently, it's been on yours.

"These are nice ones, right? The pencils?" you ask, having unwrapped your parcel, a soft backed sketchbook and a small metal case of pencils in hand. "There's only twelve, but I even found a sharpener so you won't have to do it with your knife. Sorry there's no black, I know you like the darker details."

Steve flicks through the sketchbook without thinking, every page blank. It isn't very big either, but it's perfect for purpose. 

He sets it aside with the pencils near all your new things and gets on his knees, tugging you in for a hug. "Thank you," he says, and he's said thank you a hundred times to you, but this one feels awkward, clumsy in his mouth. 

"You're welcome. Just promise you'll draw me again." 

"You're the only thing I want to draw." He kisses your cheek in emphasis. "You're the most beautiful thing everywhere we go." 

"That's such a line," you say, sounding melted. 

Easy, he thinks, turning your face to his for a kiss. Soft, as sweet as he can manage. With you, kisses start soft and end too rough, he can't help it. He remembers you're there and his to kiss and it drives him crazy. 

It's a little easier to stop today. Steve is genuinely eager to draw again, and in a week or two there won't be a page in his book without your likeness, his muse. 

[moonstruckme]

Hello lovely! I LOVED your Sirius x coquette reader and was wondering if you could do an Eddie Munson x coquette reader as well! 👀

Hi sweetheart, thank you for requesting!

cw: smutty implications (?)

Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 968 words

You’re trying to keep your teeth from chattering, as if Eddie can’t feel your entire body quivering as you press yourself close to his side. 

“Ethically, I don’t think I can let you go on like this,” he says. “You’ve gotta take my jacket, baby.” 

“I appreciate the offer,” your reply is a well-rehearsed line, “but I’m fine, thank you.” 

“Yeah, you seem great. You’re shaking like a chihuahua.” 

“Your jacket,” you chitter, “wouldn’t go with my outfit. We’re almost there anyway.” 

You’re several blocks away, but you grip his arm and speed up your steps, and Eddie follows. He doesn’t see what’s so wrong with his jean jacket. At least it’s thick. The wind has to be going right through that little cardigan of yours and he knows the floral tights, while adorable, aren’t helping. You’re practically jogging by the time you get to the bar. Eddie ushers you in, and you release a great shudder. 

“Christ, it’s freezing out there. Since when did Hawkins enter the ice age?” 

Eddie rubs your arms through your sweater, steering you both out of the way of traffic entering and exiting the bar. “It’s winter, genius. What did you think was going to happen?” 

“My cardigan was good enough yesterday,” you mutter. Then shake your head, seemingly making the conscious decision to perk up. “Anyway, it’s fine. How long do you have before you go on?” 

He grins, sheepish. “Actually, we’re a little late. I should get back there as soon as I get you set up.” 

Your eyes flare and your mouth forms a pretty O. “You should go! I can set myself up.” 

“Are you sure?” He glances towards the stage. He can see his bandmates moving around in the back. “I can at least get you a seat and a drink.” 

“Go,” you insist, shoving him (lovingly, he hopes) away from you. “I’ll be fine.” 

Eddie knows better than to try to argue with you; your cutesy, innocent appearance does not translate to a lack of backbone. He finds his bandmates backstage, weathers the slew of ensuing slander and complaints about his tardiness, and a short time later he’s leading them onstage. 

The meager crowd shouts and stomps at their arrival, mostly friends of friends and a few groupies they’ve picked up at other gigs. Eddie grins and soaks in the energy, but his eyes are elsewhere. 

It’s not hard to spot you. He’ll always think you look out of place in a joint like this. You’ve found a barstool and are sitting with your legs crossed primly in those dainty fucking tights, a bright spot amidst the sea (or, if Eddie’s beng realistic, small lake. Smattering of ponds.) of dark clothing around you. Everyone, including Eddie, has a beer in hand, but somehow you’ve managed to sweet-talk the bartender into making you what appears to be a shirley temple. You pop a cherry in your mouth, curving your lips around it to pluck out the stem and sending Eddie a wink. He reads it as Knock ‘em dead, hot stuff. (You’ve never specifically called him hot stuff before, but he can imagine it if he likes.)

You don’t flinch like you used to at the first booming chord. You’re not a mosher and don’t go to join the crowd, but Eddie catches you bobbing your head and tapping your foot as you sip from your straw. He plays his fucking heart out, thinking about tearing those tights off you (he knows you’ll never let him, you like them too much) and putting his mouth on all the spots where you spritz perfume. When you lock eyes, you give him a smile like you can read his thoughts. 

Playing to a crowd like this, being up on a stage, this is the shit Eddie lives for—and it’s not over soon enough. 

He packs up their equipment in record time, hustling over to the bar. You squeak as he wraps his arm around your waist, swooping you off your seat. 

“Hey,” you say, tilting your head back to see him. You sound endearingly breathless. “I saved you some cherries.” 

“Yes! That’s my girl.” He opens his mouth, letting you place it inside and closing his teeth so you pull the stem out for him. You do it willingly, but a flush spreads across your cheeks. “Thanks, sweet thing.” 

“No problem,” you reply, not quite able to look at him.

Eddie repents, curling a finger under your chin to tilt your head up and giving you a smile that says Okay, I’ll stop playing for now. 

You return his smile, relieved. “Want more? The bartender gave me a bunch extra, so.” 

He reverses course instantly. 

“What a fucking flirt.” He peers around you, eyeing the not-hideous twenty-something passing out beers behind the bar. “He thinks he’s gonna steal my girl.” 

“I doubt it,” you laugh. “I told him my boyfriend’s in the band.” 

Eddie grins, fiendish. “Good.” He gets in close, making his voice sweet and smooth as honey. “I’ve been thinking. You got some pretty panties under that getup, sweetheart?” 

Your eyes widen a second before you scrunch them shut, dropping your head to his chest. You say something into his shirt. 

“What was that? Couldn’t hear you.” 

You look up, grimacing. “You know I do,” you mumble. 

A low laugh rumbles through Eddie’s chest. “Just wanted to check,” he says, immensely entertained by the agitated coloring of your face. “I think it’s time we hit the road, baby. Y’ready?” 

You hum, picking up your bag and grabbing a cherry for the road. Despite your show of reluctance, there’s a bit of pep in your step as you start towards the exit. 

Eddie shrugs off his bulky jean jacket, dropping it on your shoulders. “You’re gonna need that.”

[mochamamii]

yandere!nct: you try to unalive yourself.

▹ a/n: hello loves, I can’t remember if I’ve written something like this before but I wanted write something a little darker today but soon I will force myself to write some fluff I promise lol.

▹ pairing: yandere!nct x reader

▹ triggers: self-harm, readers attempts to unalive themselves, kidnapping, forced relationships

▹ warning!: I can’t stress enough how triggering this might be, I get descriptive at certain parts and I strongly urge you to consider whether this is something you want to read, this is dark and not my normal writing. please prioritize your own well-being and do not read this if it will influence you in anyway, I have lots of other lighter reads 💕

Taeil won’t let it get this far. Taeil loves you deeply and wants only the best for you no matter how demented it appears to others. He dotes on, and nurtures you like his life depends on it, carefully crafting your meals and your routine to keep your mind and body healthy. If something like this were about to happen, he would be able to foresee your declining mental state and hopefully prevent any attempts. Taeil would do everything in his power to keep you safe and he’d do his best to make you as comfortable as possible. He’d even consider letting you go if it meant saving your life.

“How could you do this to yourself? Don’t I take care of you well?”

Johnny is always calm and collected, even when he’s pissed off, a stranger wouldn’t be able to tell the difference, he always keeps the same mask on, never giving you any idea of what he’s thinking inside his head. Until now that is…He comes home to find you on the bathroom floor. At first he thought you must’ve slipped, hitting your head and knocking yourself out in the process, not that it had been done intentionally. Johnny is at a loss of what to do, it’s one of the few times he’s not sure what to say or do to fix this. He usually has a witty comeback to lighten the mood but he knows now isn’t the time. He helps fix you up, cleans the wound on your head, and tucks you in bed. Anytime you part your lips to speak he’ll shush you. The two of you will probably sit in silence for a while until he can figure out how to address this.

“It’s okay, shhh…Just rest, save your energy. We’ll talk about it later.”

Taeyong is an angry mix of emotions. He’s known for at least a week now that you somehow managed to obtain poison. He theorized that you must’ve used cleaning supplies to mix a cocktail of chemicals, he found you hiding your stash under the bathroom sink. He assumed your plan was to use it on him, simply out of curiousity and amusement he wanted to see if you were actually capable of trying to kill him so he didn’t address it. He wanted to see how far you’d go to leave him. He waited and waited, but he never noticed anything different. He already had cameras installed in your shared apartment to watch you while he was away, he hoped to find you tampering with his food in a botched attempt to poison him. But still, nothing ever came of it. Until suddenly, you were the one who fell sick. His worry turned to anger as he arrived home one night to find you on the floor of the bathroom, the mixture of poison lying next to you.

“Are you insane? What were you trying to do, kill yourself? Do you think that will work, because I promise you, nothing…not even life itself will keep me from you. Don’t ever do something stupid like this again.”

Yuta feels remorse. It’s one of the few and probably only times Yuta will ever feel this way. Out of everyone, Yuta is one of the most intense and dangerous yandere’s, but he still loves you in his own twisted way. He likes to push your buttons and torture you a little but he’d never kill you…probably. For Yuta, part of the fun is seeing how badly you want to live, how badly you want for him to release you and return to your old life. When he arrives home to find you on the floor, a dark crimson pool of blood surrounding you he panics, all the color draining from his face as he sees your barely conscious body. He’ll clean you up, bandaging your wounds, he’ll monitor you for a few days wondering if he should take you to a hospital. In those few days as he waits to see if your condition worsens he’ll be super gentle, much more gentle with you than he’s ever been. His hands will run over all the old scarred skin where he’s cut you in different places before, a deep pang in his chest screaming at him for doing that to you. He’ll be soft with you, but he can’t help but still poke fun at you in an attempt to get you to talk to him.

“Hey, couldn’t you wait for me? At least I know when to stop, clearly you’re still an amateur…You could’ve really hurt yourself. What would I do then, huh?”

Doyoung is angry. At you, but mostly himself. He likes to believe that he knows you better than you know yourself. To come home and find you in the middle of attempting to harm yourself he will realize just how little he truly knows about you and your condition. Initially the only emotion he can really process is anger, the thought of coming home a second too late and losing you enraged him. Even while angry, he was solid as rock, never giving you much of a clue about what he was thinking. He will carefully nurse you back to health, never leaving your side not even for a second. Once you begin to recover he will experience heartbreak and grief over what could’ve happened. Doyoung won’t address the incident much and will from then on refer to it as the ‘incident’ he wants to pretend that it never happened. He’s a stubborn man and his behavior towards you might not change much, if anything he gives you less freedom, afraid to let you leave his side.

“Never do that again. Hate me. Hate me all you want to, but never do that again. Please.”

Jungwoo is distraught after finding you in such a state. He’s in disbelief and this is a rare occasion in which he is truly afraid. Afraid of what could’ve happened to you and what might happen again in the future if he’s not careful. It flips a switch in him and forces him to realize something that he cannot shake. That he might not just need to protect you from the world but from your own self too. He becomes distrustful of you, scared and afraid that you might try to hurt yourself again. There’s no amount of convincing or promises in the world that will put his mind at ease. This fear will drive him to act irrationally, he’s not above strapping you to a bed all day while he’s gone if it means keeping you safe. In his mind you forced him to take these measures to keep you safe.

“You know why I have to keep you locked up like this don’t you baby? I can’t risk you doing something like that again, what would I do without you?”

Mark is shocked. He never expected it, he doesn’t necessarily make your mental health a priority for him. He knows you probably hate him and that you’d do nearly anything to get away from him. He just never thought unaliving yourself would be on the table for you. In fact, he probably expected you to try and kill him before you ever tried to hurt yourself. He will feel shameful and for the first time a little guilty about taking you. I don’t see him ever letting you go but he might be willing to talk and see what changes can be made to make you more ‘comfortable’ in your new life.

“Don’t punish yourself for the decision I made. If you wanted to kill someone it should’ve been me. Not you, never you.”

Haechan’s response might come off as cold and heartless. That’s only half true. Initially he might try and make himself believe that it wasn’t you who did it to yourself but that an intruder broke in and attacked you. When he realizes what you tried to do he knows that nothing he will say will comfort you or inspire you to never do it again. You hate him, so much that you’d rather die than be stuck with him another second. What could he possibly say to change your mind? His approach is a little brazen and risky but he wants to test your will to live. How badly did you truly want to be free of him? He used the only thing he knows for sure works in keeping you in check. Fear. Your fear of him and what he might do.

“What? It’s okay for you to go around taking lives but I can’t?” He asks with a quizzical expression as he holds a knife to your former friend’s throat, his icy eyes piercing into yours.

[transmascissues]

i’m getting my drains out tomorrow and i’m sure things will be different after they’re gone, so here’s my observations about top surgery recovery as of 6 days post-op!

(click here for my first post, from 3 days after)

something i forgot to mention in my last post is that if they tell you a medication has to be taken with food, do not fuck with that. absolutely do not. my antibiotic had to be taken with food and on day 2, i thought “well, i just had breakfast not too long ago, surely that’s close enough and i’ll be fine” and my parents agreed, but guess what? i spent the next hour in hell. the meds made me nauseous so i had to eat, but eating still hurt a lot because of the sore throat from being intubated, so trying to make it better just caused me more pain. and both the sore throat and the nausea (which i guess was as much a heartburn sort of situation as it was nausea) were both very chest-adjacent feelings, so that on top of the usual pain and discomfort from surgery was just a perfect storm of horrible things all centralized to one part of my body. it was awful, and i will never fuck around with something like that again. that being said, if you do find yourself in that situation or are just looking for something light that will still do the job because you’re not that hungry, 10/10 would recommend oatmeal and apple sauce. apple sauce is what finally got my body to stop rioting against me and my bad decisions, and after that i started always taking it halfway through a bowl of oatmeal and that worked perfectly.

on day 4, i was able to sit up and get out of bed by myself for the first time! i still can’t do it just by using my core muscles, but if i hold onto my legs and lower them, i can sort of roll myself up into a sitting position without using any of the affected muscles too much.

on day 5, the sore throat from hell that being intubated gave me finally went away! cheers to not gripping my pillow in pain every two seconds while i swallow my spit anymore. it lasted a while, but it honestly went away pretty fast — on day 4 it was a bit better than it had been, and then the next day it was just gone.

also on day 5, i really started to feel the bandages digging into my armpits. i’m not sure if it’s because the bandage has been slipping up over time, if my armpits have some extra swelling now, or if it’s just been wearing my body down over time, but it feels like it’s starting to cut off circulation at a certain point and it makes my arms ache sometimes. that’s probably not great, but the surgeon will be redoing everything at my post-op anyway so i’ve just been riding it out until then. in the meantime, i can tell it’s definitely worse when i’m sitting back and kind of slouched (because that position pushes it up more), so i try to sit up or walk around when i feel it. having pillows on either side of me to put my elbows up on definitely also helps a lot — that’s how i’ve been sleeping, but it would be good for just sitting too.

also also on day 5, i started getting this weird fluttery feeling in the spot where the left side of my chest and the meat of my left armpit connect. it feels like it’s probably some sort of muscle spasm. it’s not painful at all, but i honestly wish it was because it’s just super weird and uncomfortable instead and i hate it. it genuinely might be my least favorite out of any pains or sensations i’ve had so far. luckily, though, it seems like it’s already died down and only happened a couple times today.

my energy has been all over the place. i’m at the point now where mentally i’m much closer to my normal state so i’m once again having the adhd urge to constantly do stuff, but my body’s ability to keep up is far less consistent. sometimes i get restless and can just get up and pace around for a while, but other times i try to do that and get really quickly exhausted. i’m definitely more able to have conversations and feel more like myself now though, even when my body is tired out.

i’ve been thirsty as all hell the past few days. i feel like i’m constantly asking my boyfriend to refill my water for me because i drain it so fast. it’s a very specific kind of thirst, too — like it never quite goes away even when i’m definitely very thoroughly hydrated, and like anything but water can’t even touch it. it’s not a bad thing, getting lots of fluids after surgery is important and i wouldn’t be surprised if that’s exactly why my body is doing it, but it is a bit frustrating to just be incessantly thirsty for days at a time.

my walking posture is getting straighter every day. i still have to hold my chest to walk because of the bandage feeling like it drags things down, but if i’m walking with my mastectomy pillow, it mostly just looks like a typical slouch and not the deep hunch i started with.

at this point, my chest is super sensitive to any kind of movement, and that’s the other thing the pillow has been really good for at this stage. if the bandage shifts at all, if my body moves at all, basically anything — i feel it all in my chest really intensely. it’s not always painful, but it isn’t comfortable either. holding the pillow to my chest helps stabilize things so the movement doesn’t reach the sensitive parts as much, which is really great.

walking up stairs is easier than walking down stairs, which is the exact opposite of what i would’ve guessed. from what i can tell just from moving around, i think it’s because bending your legs up to a higher step pretty solidly relies on your legs and lower core muscles to make it happen, while reaching your legs down to a lower step requires stretching your body out (which is famously not your body’s favorite thing to do after top surgery). it often feels like i almost can’t reach the step below and have to just barely catch it with the balls of my feet. it’s also just generally been good to take the stairs super slow going up or down because you really can’t use the railing — putting enough weight on it to really rely on it at all requires using chest muscles, so the best i’ve been able to do is just rest my hand on it in case of emergency (because i’d rather hurt my chest than crack my head open if it comes to that).

one of the things that makes the stairs hard is that my center of balance is off from hunching, and that definitely affects my walking too. it’s less pronounced now that i’m in the habit of using the pillow to walk straighter, but i have to take shorter strides and sort of shuffle around because longer strides need better balance, and even with the shuffle i’m stumbling more than usual. i already have some balance problems so i’m pretty used to the feeling of it, but it has freaked my parents out a couple times to see me start listing to one side before i catch myself.

fuck reflexes. reflexes are the actual worst. something i didn’t anticipate is that no matter how careful you are to not reach your arms too far or move them too fast, you can never totally account for what you do if something starts falling. a few times now, i’ve definitely reached too far or fast before stopping myself because i saw something about to go down and my brain instinctively told my hands to catch it. i’m not sure if there’s anything you can really do about that, but it’s worth being aware of because it caught me by surprise the first time i did it.

one side of my chest has been consistently more swollen than the other. that side has also consistently drained less, and the fluid it does drain is darker and redder. we asked my surgeon if that was normal and she said there’s almost always one side that drains more than the other, but it’s still something we’ve been keeping an eye on. hopefully i’ll be able to get a more concrete answer at my post-op, once she can see the swelling up close and look at the drainage numbers from the past week.

as i’ve been getting some use of my body back, the pain in my chest has gotten a bit more obvious. it’s milder pain, and when i’m not doing anything it’s mostly painless to the point where i’m going a lot longer between tylenol doses, but when i’m using my body, i can definitely feel it. the fact that i’m not avoiding physical activity like the plague as much means i’m noticing more pain even though objectively my pain levels have gone down — the things that hurt now didn’t hurt less before, i just didn’t even attempt them before because i knew they would hurt so much. now that the pain is down, i can try more things, which means i’m more likely to try something that ends up hurting. of course, you should always try to follow the if-it-hurts-then-stop rule, but you can’t avoid the pain altogether as you learn your body’s boundaries, so i ended up getting to a point where getting better feels like getting worse.

on that note, i’ve also learned that there’s a pretty distinct difference between milder “i should proceed with caution” pain and intense “stop what you’re doing right now” pain. as much as avoiding things that hurt is ideal, it’s not always realistic, but my body has definitely been very clear in telling me what i can and can’t compromise on. in the beginning i was really paranoid about doing anything that caused any pain at all, but now i’m more familiar with where i can push a bit further if needed and where i really need to hold off.

i’ve been getting chills much more easily lately, and they’ve also been SUPER strong. i’ll be watching a show or listening to music and something will give me chills, and it’s a really intense feeling all across my ribs, and even thinking about the thing that caused it brings on a whole new wave. i’m super curious to see if it’s just a temporary result of my nerves doing their thing or if it’ll stick around long-term. it’s not unpleasant at all, i honestly really like it.

i got some food for myself for the first time today (day 6) and it just involved slicing some pretty soft cheese, but wow, it was a workout for my shoulder. i’m guessing it’s because i haven’t really used my muscles in that way for a week, and because not being able to use my chest muscles means i was relying on my shoulder a lot more to do all the work of moving my arm. by the time i was done, just holding the block of cheese to put it back in the fridge felt like lifting weights.

i didn’t change my shirt the first few days but i’ve changed a few times now, and we’ve perfected the art of getting a button up shirt on me without overreaching my arms at all. basically, you want to put both arms into the sleeves before you lift the shirt up onto your shoulders, because once the shirt is on one shoulder, you have to reach back a lot farther to get to the other sleeve. once you have both arms in, you can lift it onto your shoulders and button it. ideally, whoever’s helping you should do most of the work to pull the sleeves over your arms so you don’t have to stretch your arm out to get them on. i’m sure that’ll be overkill once i have a bit more mobility, but for now, it works great. it definitely would be tough if the shirt was fitted though, so i’m glad i went up a size.

i hope my posts like this have been helpful, or at least interesting to read! i’ll definitely keep updating as time goes on and things change, and i’m also going to work on a breakdown of my experience at the hospital pre- and post-op, as well as my post-op appointment experience once that happens tomorrow.

y’all are getting the good, the bad, and the ugly of my recovery experience. i know a lot of this has been very focused on the bad and the ugly so far because surgery is generally rough, but i’m going to see my chest again tomorrow so stay tuned for some good!

[candlewaxandp0lar0ids]

jealousy, jealousy || Han x Reader

Summary: You and Han have been dancing around your feelings for each other for… a while, if you're being honest. It doesn't help that your self-doubt makes it hard to make any move, that you're mean enough to scare most people away and oh, yeah, that his ex hates your guts. So when the three of you are at a party together and there are drinking games involved, what could possibly go wrong?

Word count: 4.2k

Genres: college AU, friends to lovers

Warnings & Tags: implied past bullying/ostracizing of the reader, jealousy (duh), kissing (rating T on the verge of rating M, so it remains fairly tame), mentioned alcohol, drinking games, self-deprecating narrator, language.

series masterlist

A/N: this took forever because I was almost done with it when I realized what I'd written didn't work with the theme, so I had to start all over again. This is also my first time writing Han, so I hope you'll enjoy it!

As usual, you hear Jisung before you see him. It's not all that surprising, the boy’s pretty loud, and, if you didn’t have a misanthropic reputation to uphold, you might even admit that you like hearing his laugh when you walk across campus, or when you catch him mid rant as you walk into the cafeteria.

Thing is, it also means that he’s around people, and you don’t… do… people. So, even though seeing him is invariably a highlight in your day, when you hear his voice, you find yourself debating whether you should head in another direction. If you don’t, you’ll have to talk to him, and as a result, them, whoever they are, because it would be weird not to, right, and you’re just not sure you have the energy for that right now.

Or ever.

Today, as isn’t uncommon, you freeze for a second, take a step back, then decide to push on. If anyone noticed that, you probably just looked extremely weird, but it’s likely that no one was paying attention, and so you keep going with a minimal amount of mortification, for now anyway. You might ruminate over it later today, like you will if there’s any hitch in the conversation that's coming, but that’s a problem for 2 a.m. you.

You’re somewhat relieved to find that Jisung’s chatting with Chan and Changbin. You’re not close with them, but you kinda get along with Changbin, and though you find Chan intimidating, your interactions with him so far have been fine, which is high enough of a bar to clear as far as you’re concerned.

Jisung notices you almost immediately, which fills you with pleasant warmth, and he waves at you with a bright smile. You choose to take that as an invitation to come closer and an indication that you wouldn’t be interrupting anything — if it’s not, that’s on him because it was unclear — and make your way over to them.

“On your way to an exam?” Jisung asks you once you’ve reached them.

“Do you think I would make myself late to talk to you?” you reply with a frown.

It makes him laugh. Sometimes it worries you, how funny Jisung seems to find you when you’re being mean. If it was when you’re being a dick to someone else, why not, but to him too? Is he okay?

“I can’t tell if this is you being a good influence on him or not,” Chan says, tilting his head. There’s an amused glint in his eyes too. Okay, that means you’re not doing too bad.

“Are you guys done with classes?” you ask. “Were you heading to the studio?”

“No,” Jisung is quick — maybe a little too quick — to answer. “We were just talking about a track we’re working on.”

Four eyes narrow on him, and Changbin grins.

“Yeah, ‘cause Jisung here’s been feeling all romantic lately, right?”

Jisung throws him a horrified look.

“You’ve been turning in very sappy lyrics lately, hm?” Chan keeps going.

“I’m the draught, you’re rain, I’m paper, you’re a poem, wasn’t it?” Changbin quotes from memory, a wide, shit-eating grin on his face.

“Do you want to die?” Jisung asks, eyes so wide they look like marbles.

The two guys exchange a knowing look, both grinning. It’s not that often they get the drop on Jisung and can tease him, for a change. They obviously find that to be a nice change of pace, but you’re not sure where that leaves you.

Because, okay, you’re not completely clueless. The lyrics could be about you. Jisung’s expressed interest in you before. He’s kissed you. Remains the question of whether that interest was romantic or just sexual.

But the thought that the lyrics are not about you? That he feels that way about another person? It fills your stomach with stones and makes it sink to the bottom of the ocean. Just thinking about it make tears spring to your eyes and you glance to the side to will them to go away.

This is bad. You’re way too far gone. What a fucking dumbass you can be, for someone who’s as academically gifted as you are.

“At least it’s not about cheating, hm?” Jisung says, staring at Chan who seems to find the ground very interesting all of a sudden.

“That’s an uncharitable interpretation of the lyrics,” he mumbles, but he appears quite eager to drop the subject after that. You find that a bit suspicious and you’d kinda like to find out what the golden boy on campus might be trying to hide, but Jisung seems relieved to be able to drop the subject as well.

“Hey,” Jisung says the second the topic’s been let go of, attention snapping to another idea so fast it sometimes makes your head spin, “I’ve been meaning to ask—”

“Oh right,” Changbin says, glancing at his phone, “there’s Sana’s party tonight. You guys coming?”

Jisung pulls a face, but you’re not sure why. It’s not like he doesn’t get regularly interrupted — and it’s not malicious either, it’s just that he, uh, talks a lot. Sometimes people end up cutting him off. In Changbin’s case, you suspect he didn’t even notice.

“I already told her we would,” Chan says, and Jisung’s face gets longer. You suspect he’d completely forgotten about it.

“Are you coming too?” he asks you, a hint of pleading in his voice.

See, even this is a dilemma. Going to a party means you’ll be forced to be in the presence of people who dislike you and who you find fundamentally uninteresting, especially since Seungmin’s been a no-show to most of these now that he’s dating. Even if you go only to see Jisung, you know people will be trying to get his attention all night, and you’ll be lucky if you get to spend ten minutes alone with him before midnight — maybe you’ll get him to yourself for a whole half-hour at around four am though. On top of that, there’s a significant risk that people will talk to him while he’s standing next to you and completely ignore you, and you’ll spend the whole time praying for a hole to open under your feet.

On the other hand, you can’t refuse him anything, and it would be far more devastating to pass on the chance to spend some more time with him.

So you just say “Sure”.

After spending more time on your outfit than you feel comfortable admitting — this isn’t a date, dammit — you show up at the sorority Sana’s a part of. Though your dress feels too short, you’re relieved to feel self-assured on your high heels. Yes, it took practicing walking in them, but it’s paying off in confidence, and it’s a price you’re willing to pay.

People are already there when you arrive, gathered on the porch, filling the house, spilling out on the balconies. You get a few looks, but it’s not like you’re not used to them. At least you’re not pretending that you don’t give a fuck. Many of them don’t like you, and you don’t like them either.

Walking in, you find yourself hesitating. Would it be weird if you just tried to find Jisung right away? Should you try to socialize, spend a few minutes talking to the rare people you know and get along here?

You may not particularly care about what people think, most of the time, but you do care about what he thinks. And the thing is, you know people talk, especially about him, especially since 3racha’s popularity blew up last year. The last thing you want is for him to think that you’re some desperate, embarrassing idiot who’s been misreading—

Enough with the line of thinking. If he’s not interested, he shouldn’t have kissed you. And, okay, the first time was a week after the break-up with his girlfriend, and he was crying, and you don’t think it meant anything to him, but the second time, this summer? It had to have meant something. He wasn’t cruel like that— You didn’t think.

You’re still grateful to make eye contact with Changbin, because it makes things a little easier. You go up to him, exchange a few words, he introduces you to some of the people who’ve flocked to him, they pretend to be interested, and once you decide that you’ve made enough of an impression, you leave them with a polite, though forced, smile.

Finding Jisung isn’t all that hard, you just have to follow the laughter.

You know that he likes his peace and quiet, too, but on a night like that, he’ll be prepared to entertain. Someone else might think that it comes naturally to him, the jokes, the antics, the comedy, but you know better. You know that there’s a surprising amount of work that goes into how good he is at this, how easy he makes it look. You know that, when he’s around you, he’s actually fairly quiet, that he sometimes hangs out on your couch, on his phone, while you’re reading, but pouts if you leave the room.

When you find him, it seems him and the group he’s with are in the middle of some drinking games. You hesitate, again. You recognize some of the girls there as part of the girls’ swimming team, the one whose captain is Jisung’s ex. Who’d hated your guts since first year, independently from Jisung, and then, uh, dependently from Jisung, you’re pretty sure. She was single-handedly responsible for half of campus thinking you were a bitch, a feat that even you find somewhat impressive.

You’d almost respect it, if, you know. It hadn’t made your life hell until you managed to stop giving a fuck.

But Jisung spots you. He always does. You don’t know how he does it, half suspect that he’s on some Spiderman shit, but he finds you in the crowd, and his eyes widen, and his smile brightens, and God, it’s not fair, how he makes you feel when he’s not even yours.

Having Jisung’s undivided attention is— one of the best feelings in the world. Genuinely. He just has a way of making you feel like you matter. It’s a bunch of things he does, one of them being the way he makes people laugh. He always— caters his jokes to the person around him. That means he pays attention, means he remembers, means he cares. That’s already a lot.

“You made it,” he says, a soft edge to his tone, when you reach him. His hand reaches for your arm, pulling you into the circle, then hovers at your elbow, sometimes brushing against your skin. This is another one of the changes that have happened since the summer. He’s more— tactile, and it does all sorts of things to you.

You don’t mind. You don’t mind at all.

“You look good,” he adds, voice low enough that you’re the only one to hear it. You do your best to repress the shiver it sends down your spine.

“Thanks,” you reply, your usually sharp tongue unable to find something to reply.

“Jisung!” some voice calls, and you manage at the last second not to roll your eyes — thank God, ‘cause there’d be hell to pay if you had.

Because it’s Jihyun. Because of course it is. If there’s one thing you can’t take away from her, it’s that she always has impeccable timing. Not for you, naturally, for herself.

If it was just you, you’d be out the door in seconds, leaving the scene before risking any kind of confrontation. Being with Jisung right now means that she won’t directly be a bitch to you, she’s never done it upfront in front of him. She instead goes the passive-agressive route which, bless his precious heart, he basically never picks up on.

You also never spoke about it with him. At first because she was his fucking girlfriend and he clearly adored her, even if there was so much that set them apart, and since then because, well, you’re still afraid you’ll come off as some jealous bitch or he won’t believe you or, worse, take her side. Tell you that you were every bit the bitch she says you are, and that she was right for the shit she put you through.

You only have seconds to brace for impact. But as you compose yourself, not bothering to smile, Jisung’s hand settles on the small of your back.

Which, hmmm, you’d be happy about in pretty much any other circumstances, but right now? Right now it might not be the best thing for you.

“It’s been a while,” she tells Jisung with a stunning smile. “How have you been doing?”

Jisung smiles too, though somewhat tighter. They’re on good terms, from what you’ve heard, but that’s not really something you’ve discussed with him. You force yourself to tune them out quickly, letting your eyes wander in the room. Just being around her makes your chest tighten. You feel on edge, feel the need to watch all of your gestures and anything that leaves your mouth in fear that it will be used against you.

Fuck, you were supposed to be over that.

Whatever Jisung answers, it makes her laugh. She leans forward, puts her hand on his arm. She makes it looks so easy, so natural. Same with how she pushes her hair behind her ear, keeps her voice at the right pitch, even laughs the right way, light and airy. If you tried to flirt the way she does, you’d only embarrass yourself. You'd look delusional. There’d be nothing sexy or attractive about it.

You’re just bad at making people like you.

It’s impossible not to be reminded of the fact that this is who Jisung went for. You don't know if you can go as far as to say she’s his type, but he did choose to date her, and you know how much he cared for her.

With her around right now, it’s really fucking hard to think that he would go for someone like you and that you haven’t been letting yourself get carried away.

On a related note, are you going to have an emotional break down in the middle of the room?

“…and things are looking pretty good for the team, we think we’ll get to the nationals this year,” Jihyun concludes cheerfully.

Wow, that’s impressive! Shouldn’t she be training for that then?

Maybe she has a point. You are a bitch.

“That’s cool,” Jisung says. “Well, it was nice running into you again.”

Her smile falters, just barely, but you don't miss it. She’s good at hiding things, but you’re better at noticing them. Know your enemy and all that.

You’d almost feel bad for her. If you’d had Jisung’s undivided time and attention, and you lost it? Yeah. You don’t know how you’d cope.

But then her eyes light up again, and again, she’s really fucking good at that shit.

“What are you guys playing?” she asks. “I’d love to join.”

You’re not unaware of the way Jisung’s hand closes slightly on your back. As he turns around, he ends up pulling you a little closer to him and your stomach tightens. Less because of his proximity, though obviously that affects you too, and more because you have the sinking feeling that this is about her. Is he— using you to make her jealous?

No. There’s no way. He would never do that.

Right?

“Just some never have I ever for now,” Sana chirps in answer. She gives the three of you a warm smile, and you think she means it. You’ve never gotten shit from her, and that says a lot. Normally you’d argue that people shouldn’t be neutral or anything, but in your case, neutral seems to be too much to ask for, in most cases.

“Alright!” Jihyun grins, lifting her cup as if to signal that she’s ready to enter the game. “Never have I ever… had sex with someone at a party.”

She drinks almost immediately, a cute giggle slipping past her lips, and so do a bunch of other people.

“None of you get close to my room,” Sana warns sternly, and several people laugh.

It’s not until you feel Jisung moving to drink from his cup and catch a glance of his burning red ears that you realize what Jihyun’s point was. With someone else, it might be self-centered to assume you were the intended target. With her, you don’t doubt it a second. Just a little reminder that he used to be hers.

There are a few whistles at Jisung’s attention, but he keeps his eyes down. It doesn’t surprise you that it would make him uncomfortable. It kinda surprises you that she wouldn’t care, though. She’s evil incarnate, but she seemed to care about him, in her own way.

“Aw,” she says, staring straight at you with her sweetest smile, “don’t worry, we’ll find you someone.”

There was a time where that might have upset you, but right now you won’t give her the satisfaction. You let your gaze flicker over her, face-shoes-face, and then glance away with a scoff. It makes you look like a haughty bitch, but, well, you’re already known for being a haughty bitch, so who cares.

Jisung chuckles discreetly next to you. That makes it worth it.

The game goes on without catching much of your interest after that. Jihyun’s sentences remain pointed — either towards Jisung or you, you’re pretty sure, though you doubt anyone notices. At least Jisung doesn’t move away from you for most of it, chin sometimes coming to rest on your shoulder, fingers running gently over your arms, the occasional whispered comment in your ear.

Heat pools in your stomach the whole time, and you’re unable to focus on anything but him. His firm body’s pressed against your back, his proximity overwhelming. You feel that you should drag him away and finally talk about what’s going on between the two of you, but you’re afraid you’ll break the spell if you do.

Eventually, he’s the one who does, peeling himself away from you when Chan shouts from downstairs to get his attention.

It feels cold when he’s gone.

It feels colder when Jihyun’s eyes zero in on you.

Hm. Maybe flight would be the better option right now.

You’re not sure how it happens, but the game shifts not long after Jisung’s left. A bottle appears on the floor, and you tilt your head. Aren’t you all too old for that?

Apparently not, or at least not when so many people are that drunk and giggling at the idea. Soon, some are making out. Others excuse themselves and find a more private spot — Sana reminds everyone that her room should not be that spot, but you’re not sure how efficient that is.

You’re thinking about retreating when you hear someone call your name and again, of course, it’s Jihyun. She gives you a warm smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

“It’s your turn!”

There’s tension in the air as you just stare. You don’t want to—

“C’mon, it will be fun!”

You shouldn’t care. You shouldn’t care about what she makes you out to be. But in that moment, you’re back to your first-year self who was still trying to fit and figure out how to make people like you.

So you lean forward and spin the bottle.

It takes you less than a second to realize that that was some dumb fucking decision making. You don’t want to kiss anyone here. The idea vaguely nauseates you, actually, but less than the uncomfortable realization that no one here wants to kiss you. You might be seconds away from facing a harsh, unpleasant rejection. That was probably her point, actually. You fold your arms over your chest, but you still feel your shoulders sink. You know you’re unwanted. You don’t need—

The bottle’s grinding to a stop when a hand shoots out to grab it.

You frown, glance up.

And it’s Jisung. He flashes you a bright smile, then winks.

“Wanna make out?”

Jihyun laughs lightly, tells you to ‘go get it’. But even you can see her heart breaking in her eyes.

None of it matters when Jisung strides over to you and takes your hand in his to pull you away. More people than you’d have expected cheer.

He pulls you into some random room, closes it behind him, and then hesitation appears in his eyes when he looks at you.

“We don’t have to— I mean, I wasn’t trying to make you— If you want to go kiss someone else—”

It sounds like he is down to kiss you, and even if you hadn’t wanted to kiss him before that, you think that little knight in a rock band t-shirt moment would have gotten you going anyway. So you shut your brain up, grab him by his t-shirt, and in the stunned silence that follows, an extremely rare occurence with Jisung, you pull him down towards you.

His lips crash against yours, warm and soft, and after the first few seconds of surprise, during which you see him blinking at you with impossibly wide eyes, he kisses you back like he’s been waiting for this moment his whole life. One of his hands comes up to cup your face while the other’s at your waist, squeezing and bringing you closer, not quite daring to make the move to your ass. Yet, anyway.

There’s urgency in the way he tilts his head to get better access to your mouth. Your hands trail from his shirt to his arm, feeling his toned biceps underneath you fingers, and you feel him grin against you.

“Find something you like?” he teases, before kissing you again.

This time his tongue brushes against yours, and a moan escapes you. You could feel self-conscious about it, but you don’t, not with him. If anything, it only seems to spur him on further, and he gets closer, his toned thigh pushing between yours. You feel hot all over, anywhere he touches you set ablaze, and oh, do you want this. One of his hands slides up your leg, hitching your dress higher.

“Have I told you I really like this dress?” he asks, because apparently he can’t shut up even in moments like that.

He doesn’t let you answer though, and again he’s kissing you, making your head spin. You can’t figure out what to focus on. The softness of his lips, the warmth of his mouth, how his hand is slowly making its way higher up your thigh, setting your skin ablaze, probably intentionally teasing you. Whatever it is, you’re melting under his hands. You want more, undeniably so.

He pulls away for just a second, catching his breath. His chest is heaving quickly, his lips swollen, and you can’t help but think that this is your doing, a thought that somehow turns you on even further. Dark, dilated pupils meet yours, and you think you see a desire that mirrors your own. He licks his lips briefly, glances at the bed in the room. Then his eyes meet yours again. He swallows.

“Do you—”

You jump away when someone tries to open the door.

“Is someone in there?”

Shit. Shit.

It’s Sana.

“No one better be in there,” she says threateningly.

You exchange a panicked look. She’s the sweetest person in the world, but you don’t want to cross her.

In a second, Jisung steps away from you and he’s at the window. He opens it, looks out, and then he throws one leg over the edge.

“What are you doing?” you hiss.

“Saving our lives,” he replies very seriously, stepping out fully on what you assume is the roof over the porch. “Come on,” he adds, “I’ll help you out.“

You roll your eyes, walk over to him and close the window, shooing him away with a gesture of the hand. Then you open the door, and though Saya eyes you suspiciously, you think she believes your story about being tired and wanting a rest and not having realized you’d locked the door.

Then you walk downstairs and let yourself fall on a couch, right next to Jisung, who seems to be all pouty that you refused to escape with him. His thigh brushes against yours, and your stomach does a somersault, but neither of you says anything about— well. About the thing you should be talking about. The moment’s passed, and self-doubt is assaulting you all over again.

Still, right now, you’re the person who gets to let your head fall on Jisung’s shoulder, and it’s your hand he intertwines his fingers with.

In that moment, you’re sure that the two of you will be alright eventually. It’s probably going to take a while, ‘cause you’re too much of a coward and Jisung’s— well, you’re not quite sure what his deal is, but there’s definitely something there.

But, eventually, you’ll be alright.

And there is no space in your brain, at that moment, to spare a single thought for Jihyun, because she’s lost him a long time ago.

Even if neither of you seem to be able to admit it, in all the ways that matter, he’s already yours.

okayyy, again, there's kinda Lore there. i don't know if i'll end up writing it, but in case you're wondering, OC was paired with Jihyun for a class during their first year. essentially, Jihyun was pretty busy due to being on the swimming team and other personal stuff. OC ended up constantly doing all the work for the both of them, and sometimes Jihyun would say she'd do stuff and not do it. eventually, after OC was forced to complete stuff in one night and abandoned for a group presentation, there was a nasty altercation with Jihyun and the teacher became aware of the situation, resulting in a bad outcome for Jihyun. lots of people felt that OC was unfair and should have been more understanding, and OC still doesn't know if that was the right thing, but felt used and upset during the situation. Jihyun also vilifies OC when talking about it, a lot, and OC ended up being kinda ostracized after that. so yeah.

if you read all this, uh, thank you, i hope you enjoyed this, it's my first time writing Han and I love him dearly and I hope this works. it would mean the world if you could reblog this, leave a comment or anything like that! as an author, this is really the only way we get to see that our work is appreciated and it's trully what keeps me writing so it's super important :) thank you for reading and i'll see you later for Hyunjin!

[saturatedstarlight]

an: heyyy long time no seeeee ✨✨✨ i wrote a lil something for the gojo girlies out there. Um idk why i’ve been on a huge gojo kick, but here i am🙄. (I love you suguru i swear🥹)

Oh this was inspired by @yuwuta ‘s little drabble it’s soo cute i loved it. ne wayss, enjoy!!

cw: teasing, penetrating, riding, fingering, reader is a switch, gojo switches, mentions of good girl/princess, and thee honored one

wc: 2744

_________________

“Don’t piss me off Satoru.”

“Wh- How is asking you— my girlfriend, a favor, pissing you off? Y-You don’t even know what i’m going to ask you yet.” Gojo follows your out of your shared bedroom, a slight whine to his velvety voice, it annoyed you how he could always get what he wants when it came to you so you decided to hold your ground, arms crossed, hip jutted as you look at him expectantly, eyebrow raised.

“Ask me.”

“My goodness, so sassy…”

“Satoru, I will hurt you.” He responds with a juvenile smile, holding his hands up in defense. “Okay, okay, I umm wanted you to…” his sentence finishes off with incoherent mumbling.

“What?”

“I said I wanted you to wear my glasses when we have se-sex…” a faint blush clouds his pale face, the first time you’ve seen him this red, practically ever and you put down your defenses, interest unusually piqued.

“Oh-“ a small smile adorns your youthful face and full lips, you perk up at the idea.

“I thought you were going to ask me to wear a butt plug or have a threesome with your boyfriend again…” your eyes narrow at him as you rests your arms on his shoulder, your fingers tangling in the hairs at the nape of his lean neck.

“Why? Are you reconsidering?” He perks up, his crystalline eyes looking up at you as he rests his head on your chest, nuzzling into your bust.

“No.” You thwack his forehead, an exasperated sigh contorting your face.

A few weeks go by and the conversation you had with your boyfriend lost from your memory. The simple fact that you were both extremely busy with work had made it easier to forget. There was one night you both decide to dedicate just to each other and while you usually give him a hard time generally about… everything, you decided to be a bit more agreeable for him tonight.

You find him spread out on the couch of your apartment, eyes closed, mask pushed up slightly on his forehead, and legs spread wide. He had just gotten back from a special grade assignment so all of his energy was spent on exercising curses.

You sit next to him, gently taking his hand, he didn’t even acknowledge you yet, breathing slow and steady as you lean against him, pouting in his direction.

“That bad huh baby?”

His voice is low and raspy, despite his exhaustion, this entire persona he was sporting did wonders for your imagination.

“J-Just a bit, but I could handle myself, it was the students that worried me.”

You toss your leg over his thigh, straddling him and leaned against him, still pouting at his discomfort. A sultry yet whiney air to your voice as you press your tits against his chest. “Anyway I can make you feel better Satoru?”

Lips finding purchase on his neck, softly nibbling and kissing him there, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t acknowledge it, you frown, pulling away.

“Hmm?”

“I didn’t tell you to stop.” You blush, a deep singe to your cheeks and an even deeper pulse between your legs. He spoke with so much authority and ease, it came so naturally to him and yet… he spent most of his time pestering you by being a whiney baby.

“Ohh, so this isn’t Satoru, this is ‘the Honored One’ huh?” You pull back your body, perched right on his knee and and he finally opens his heaven like eyes, narrowing them at you.

“Don’t mock me.”

“I’m noottt… okay I am.” A small giggle escapes your lips but you try to reconcile for your teasing by kissing him softly a few times. Both your lips soft and gentle as his kisses you back, finding it hard to resist your advances, no matter how many cursed demons he has to fight.

“I’ll have you know that you are dating someone with a very reputable name in the Jujutsu realm.” His voice is pouty and whiney, just how you like him.

“Yes, the honored one, sent straight from the Heavens the herald of peace and order from the Gojo Clan—

Deciding to get up, you find yourself curtsying in front of him.

—should i bow or curtsy? Which one would you prefer, my liege?” Gojo sits up, fully giving you his attention and pull you back on top of him with an eye roll. “Stop that, you know I don’t like it.” He pressed his face to your chest, words muffled and whiney again, hugging you tight.

“Ahaha baby, I’m just trying to make you feel better, you know I hate it when you come back drained and lifeless like the rest of the sorcerers and it’s bad enough they’re also all very sexy, you have to be the one who at least is fun to be around.”

“Why are you calling them sexy?” He squeezes you tighter making you giggle, resting your chin on his head and kissing his forehead you smile.

“Who said sexy? Was not me.” You meet him down at eye level, matching his cute pout.

“You asked me how I could feel better, right?”

You nod slowly, blushing as you feel his hands slide up the oversized shirt you were wearing. “Mhmm, anything.”

“Are you sure?” He smirks his finger tips finding your nipples, massaging them and squeezing them as if you belonged to him and you gasp, biting your lip and nodding slowly.

“Yeah, ngghh… wanna be good for you-“

He perks up instantly, carrying you to your shared bedroom. “Damn baby, I should pretend to be worn down more often.” His entire personality changes, he’s more confident and teasing as he lays you in bed, climbing on top of you, lips pressing up against your lower stomach, sliding up the excess fabric from your shirt up.

“You were faking it?!”

He laughs loudly, pulling you to the edge of the bed by your hips. “Yeah… and you are so gullible my cute little gullible princess, mwah mwah mwah.” He kisses your inner thighs obnoxiously, holding you in place.

“And since you said you wanna be good f’me, you have to keep your promise.” Gojo whispers, taking your earlobe between his teeth and tugging gently making you whine.

“You make it very hard for me to like you Satoru.”

“Well it’s a good thing ya love me so I’m not too worried about the liking bit-“

Gojo spoke with a certain determination, a velvet venom that had your pretty little slit throbbing for him and it pissed you off at how just a few sentences could have you a whiney, needy mess.

“Now- be a good girl, and turn around f’me baby.” You roll your eyes and does as he asks, despite him playing the weak and sickly card, you had been craving the sweet stretch and pull of his thick cock for days now.

It drove you crazy how often you thought about him cumming all over you, stuffing your abused hole to the brim and fucking his cum back inside you, the way he normally did. How he’d leave you a whiney, overstimulated mess, hole gaping and sticky and would leave you to go on missions as if it was nothing.

He frustrated you to no end, even memories of him frustrated you and that made you wanna sink on his stupid cock even more, milking him for all he’s got.

He’s leaning over you, hands rubbing you ass slowly, he pulls your thin white panties to the side, ogling your slit.

“Ah look at this beautiful ass and my beautiful-“ kiss “pussy” kiss “just waiting” kiss “to be fucked” kiss kiss kiss

Your whines are muffled into a pillow and you toss your rear back against him, his nose pushing past your folds in the best way possible. Gojo pulls away, lips sucking your entrance so mean, his hands continue spreading your cheeks apart and grants you a firm slap, making you whine even louder.

“Hey— what happened to you being my good girl?” He asks, sliding a finger inside you.

“N-No fi-fingers -toru, need you. N-need your cock…ve’been waiting all week.” Gojo lazily pumps his finger inside you, pushing it in deeper and harder with each thrust.

“Awe does my slutty little princess want me to fuck her? Hmm~”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as he fingers you, your hips slightly meeting his finger tip. “Y-yes, fuck me.”

“Hmm…” he leans over your body again, wet mouth against the shell of your ear.

“How about you fuck my finger like you would my cock baby, and I’ll see if you can have it, mkay?” Your whines grow louder and hips move faster against his digit, you clench and unclench around him, dragging his finger with every clench of your sopping hole deeper inside you. Although, it wasn’t enough.

Both you and that cocky little shit knew that.

“P-please- toru, another— another finger i-“

“You what? Want another finger? But I thought you said tonight was for me?” His faux pout frustrated you more as you continue to toss you curvy little ass back on his finger.

“I thought you said you’d do anything to make me feel better.” Gojo found himself enjoying this way too much— found his pants growing tighter and tighter from your whines to your cute little ass— he found himself thanking the heavens for you every night…

And— truth be told, his week was tough, not so tough that he couldn’t handle it, more like the higher ups giving him shit tough. The mission he went on earlier this evening went smoothly. He even bought the students ice cream afterwards because it ended quite early. But you don’t get to know that.

Gojo had already sensed your doting behavior, lingering touches, and longer kisses in the morning from you so he figured he might as well try to get extra sympathy from you, especially considering you don’t give it to him often.

His ego huge enough.

But still, every glance, cute little pout you offered him, even watching you brush your teeth made him horny. And while he is a man of restraint, he just wanted to see how long this “good girl” act would last before your true nature came out.

And that was his weakness.

Your fingers yanked at the bed sheets and your bed swallowed your whines and cries for more of him and yet Gojo did nothing.

Believably so considering he was well.. Gojo. You knew he liked pushing your buttons, frustrating you to no end, he loved getting under your skin even before you two started dating saying that he loved the rush and the thrill of watching your cute little face get all worked up and annoyed whenever he came around.

…fucking sadist.

With your ass ricocheting off his fingers once more you stop, it wasn’t enough. You were fed up with him.

Slowly you slide off of him, leaning forward and you turn around, a frown on your face and malice in your eyes.

Gojo smirked, loving the dark look in your eyes, your disheveled sex hair and your clenching, dripping thighs. He found you so sexy like this.

You crawl over to him and slowly unbuckle his pants, no words having been exchanged between the both of you.

Shirt be damned, you can ogle his abs some other time, the only thing your mind was set on was his thick heavy cock, with a pink angry head, veiny base and that delicious curve you always found yourself salivating over whenever you gave him head.

(You were not giving him head by the way)

“I am never feeling sympathy for you again.” You pull him down to the bed, crawling on to his lap, aligning his thick leaky head to your begging hole.

Gojo knew not to touch you like this, he knew all you wanted was his cock, nothing more and he tossed his head back softly, releasing a breath he didn’t realize he was holding when you touched him, pumping his cock slowly, spending extra time on his tip letting your finger tips encircle that enraged frenulum some more.

“Spit.” You commanded, having him spit in the palm of your hand, saliva slowly dripping from his glossy, plump bottom lip and you rolled your eyes, you knew what he was doing.

Your small hands find their way back to his throb, pumping it slowly, if it weren’t for that incessant ache in your pussy, you would have edged the shit out of him but you decided to save that for round two.

And with a few final passes of his tip from your clit down to your entrance you sink onto him, nice and slow, your eyes nearly rolling out of your head as you do so, that familiar feeling just settling so deep within you— no words could describe how this felt.

Gojo hisses, “Fu-uck bab- baby, j-just like tha, ‘r perfect so so fuckin’ perfect for me… the tightest little thing all f’me…” he places his hands on your hips.

You both know you couldn’t handle this all on your own, so he took his chances and pushed you down even further, having you release dry laughs as he throbbed inside you.

“Hah— ah— fuck, S’toruu..” you lean your head on his chest, panting softly as you adjust, clenching and unclenching.

“Fuck baby, this is perfect, you’re so so per-“ his eyes found his signature sunglasses on the bedside table and he perched them right on your nose, biting his lip. “Now you’re perfect, now comere.” Gojo pulled you by your chin to meet his lips in a firm kiss, teeth knocking, lip biting and moans exchanged like currency. You wrap your arms around his neck and he lifts you off him, slamming you back down, making you scream into his mouth again and again with every slam of your hips.

“Mm— more ‘toru more..” you meet his thrusts with abandon, both of you chasing your separate highs together, unsure of who was fucking who. Tits bouncing, skin slapping bliss was all gojo could focus on, that and the fact that he was ready to pump so much cum into you at any given moment but with all the teasing he figured he’d at least let you come on his cock first.

“Th-ats it baby, juusst like tha-“ his words short and breathy as he slides you back and forth on his cock, your clit catching his length as he moved you.

“Fu— you feel me? Feel me so deep inside you? Yeah?” You nod, unable to think, a few more thrusts away from having no thoughts at all. “Wan’ me to fill you up? Cum in this slutty little pussy? Yeah? I know you do baby.. mhmm— yeahh, use that cock baby, take whas’ yo—urs.”

Tears brim your eyes, a nice achey burn settles in your pussy, and your cunt clamp down around him with an iron grip as you cum, nails digging in his back, head buried in the crook of his neck as you let him carve more of his cock into you.

“Fu-fuckin fill me up baby, r-right now fu- please please need you…” He looks up at you, pushing the glasses up off your face, your tresses pushed back in the process, a dopey glare filling your eyes, the venomous one long gone as your orgasm fills every crevice of your brain like smoke, senses dulled and hearing shot, you cum hard around his spurting cock, which pushes deep inside you, filling you with everything that he’s got, a weeks worth of sexless nights with you. He holds you down, refusing to let you escape his thick, gloopy load as he rocks it into you deeply, body tense and stiff while he fucks it back into you.

You slowly bounce your ass on him cock, dribbles of his cum leaking on to your thighs and the sheets and it’s like this annoying yet lovable man in front of you could do no wrong. He was perfect to you, an angel.

Intimate touches and panting are shared between you both, your fingers lightly trace his chest, (he took his own shirt off) and his find your hair, softly petting you.

“Sorry for deceiving you, I just really wanted to be babied tonight.” His confession makes you smile and you snuggle closer to him.

“You always wanna be baby girl, toru.”

“Nah uh… sometimes I wanna be the honored one.” He pouts, kissing your forehead. You smile, kissing his chest softly. “I love you, dork.” You yank his ear, “Ow! What was that for?!”

“That was for the sole finger you fucked me with.” He laughs, sliding that singular finger down to your ass playfully.

“Satoru!”

[crispycreambacon]

Ending April with a small parting gift. I’m gonna miss this.

Anyways, an announcement of my own.

The short of it

I’m leaving the Watcher fandom. Don’t worry, I won’t be unfollowing anyone, but I will be ceasing the creation of art for Watcher and interaction with the community at large. Thank you all for this short but meaningful ride. Feel free to unfollow me if you were here for Watcher art, and for those who stick around…

Thank you :]

I hope to not disappoint with this new era of mine.

The long of it

It’s been a couple of days since a certain channel dropped an announcement that imploded its fandom. It was… a mess. A lot—and I mean a lot—of us didn’t handle the news well, and we made that known to everyone. The impact was so massive that YouTubers, who are nowhere near the niche that Watcher operates under, covered the situation, and some of them explained very well why the decision went over so poorly. Meanwhile some of them made fun of the situation, and some were just there for the clicks, but that’s the cycle of YouTube drama for you.

With the amount of ears waiting for even a peep out of their mouths, Watcher couldn’t ignore the backlash any longer and released an apology video three days after the announcement. By all accounts, it was a pretty good response. The reception was mixed, but it was definitely more well-received than their first video, and they actually listened to their fans who gave them valid criticism over the sudden shift to a streaming service.

However…

For as much as I appreciate their response, I still can’t find it in myself to continue following Watcher. I really mean it when I say this disaster soured any enjoyment I had for them. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to watch them again for a long time without thinking about this situation or remembering the people they have hurt, even if unintentionally, through their poor execution of a business decision.

Do I believe they could’ve pulled off moving their content to a streaming service? Absolutely. However, so many factors doomed this decision and their announcement from the start from them believing that $5.99/month was “affordable to everyone” (seriously?) to them insisting that this was for the fans even though the fans have vocalized that they were never there for the high production value. They were there because the three guys who run Watcher were enjoyable!

I feel like if they had been honest about the fact that the TV quality they are aiming for was more for themselves than anyone–hell, it’s the mission statement in their About page, and, I don’t know, considered the idea that $6 is not cheap, especially for international fans, people wouldn’t have gotten so angry at them. Now, there are still numerous issues plaguing this business model, but to go through all of the arguments would require a separate post, and I’ve already expended too much energy on this situation. Needless to say, Watcher has burnt their bridges, and it will take a while before they can build them back up again, let alone get people to trust them enough to cross them.

On the other hand, I can’t blame Watcher fully for my departure. Despite my heavy disagreement with their initial decision, I understand why they thought this decision was a good idea in the first place as YouTube is a very unstable career path, and it would rather hurt its creators with its relentless demonetization, censorship and restrictive guidelines than give up just a tiny amount of its profit. Besides, they’re in control of their content, and they could do what they want with it even if their fans disagreed with them.

Speaking of the fans, my god. The situation revealed a side of the fandom that I never thought I would see, but in hindsight, I should have seen it coming. To see fans resort to anti-Asian racism and death threats so quickly was extremely heartbreaking, and as an Asian person, it made me feel very unsafe and unwelcome in the community.

Moreover, using Steven as a scapegoat to absolve Ryan and Shane of any wrongdoing was unfortunately a very common response. Yes, he is the CEO, and yes, his series being centered on traveling and eating expensive food really doesn’t paint him in a positive light, but need I remind you that RYAN AND SHANE ARE GROWN ADULTS. They’re the founders of Watcher, and they both have to agree to the initial plan for it to be implemented. You can’t assume that Steven was a boogeyman terrorizing your precious little boys just based on a 15-minute video. You don’t know what’s going on behind the scenes.

All of this to say that the initial announcement combined with how the community reacted violently to the announcement really nipped my interest in Watcher in the bud. It was a shame too because I really did love Watcher, and I still do. Had it not been for the time I invested in following them, I wouldn’t have made great friends, regained the joy in creating art–even reviving a hobby/skill that I assumed was long dead, and had a reason to be able to laugh or smile even in terrible days. I truly am grateful for Watcher, and I do not regret ever getting into them at all. However, I think it’s time for me to go.

Thank you all for this weird and wonderful ride, but at some point, you’ll have to hop off. I just didn’t expect to hop off it so soon.