#I'm trying very hard not to care that it could be better

[sizebrained]

I'm not sure if this is *supposed* to be a pair of giant legs the way the telephone pole and line make it look.

But I love this so much I had a little story idea pop up in my head I couldn't get rid of so I had to write it down.

Also great glow up from the last version, love tofupixel's stuff.

Whoops new g/t universe... CW: None, SFW

Word Count: 2,000

*** The town siren's crying wail filled the whole town. As if the angry sky wasn't enough of a warning of what was heading their way. The cows and horses on Jane's farm knew long before the siren had confirmed it. There was a tornado coming. First one of the season. Jane hadn't wanted to grow bigger before the storms, but the animals had panicked. They kept pulling out of Jane and her mother's grips. Desperate to follow their instinct to run away from the oncoming twister.

At her normal size of exactly 5 feet tall, Jane could never have managed to get them to the barn when they were this agitated. Even with her mother and ten year old littler brother Bobby helping.

Bobby's normally annoying demeanor disappeared in these kinds of situations. He was trying very hard to actually help. But one twist of the cow's head sent the poor boy flying sideways every time.

So she focused, held her breath, and grew. When she was done, she was four times her normal size.

Jane had discovered that her body had this "compunction" to grow bigger. She didn't know if it was nature, or magic, or what. She could just grow bigger. Along with the few, mostly random, townfolk who knew about it too.

It started shortly after her father died. Also right after she began puberty, like that wasn't hard enough by itself. There was no rhyme or reason as to what set Jane to growing, how big she would get, or how long it would last.

For lack of a better word, the family doctor had settled on what happened to Jane as a "compunction." There was nothing in any medical text that he had come across to explain it. Other than being a danger to low ceilings and tight places, he said Jane was otherwise a pretty typical, healthy teenager.

When their family doctor made the first house call to find a 20 foot, very embarrassed looking girl in pigtails looking down at him in the barn, he took it rather in stride. "Not the strangest thing I've seen to be honest," he told Jane's mother. It always made Jane wonder just what he had seen that her being bigger than an elephant didn't register at the top of his list.

When she first started getting her compunctions, she made the animals nervous in their stables. Even though Jane had cared and fed some of them for years, most were unnerved by her newfound size.

Eventually, the animals got used to Jane's bigger version when it happened. Now, most of them now didn't seem to think it was unusual to be moved around as easily as a child's favorite stuffed toy.

Like the two cows that Jane had tucked under her arms as she walked them to the barn to be stored away like it was time for bed.

Thankfully, Jane's clothes, and anything else that happened to be touching her body at the time, grew along with her when she did. They couldn't afford to go through clothes at the rate of her body's "compunction spells" otherwise.

One time she grew while she was brushing her hair. It ended up being 10 feet long. Jane had never timed it right to be holding it again when she shrank back down. So the 10 foot brush was hidden up in the barn's haystacks till she did.

Over the past several years she had learned to control it. Somewhat.

Better at directing it was more accurate. She couldn't really control it that much or for that long. It was like tensing a muscle or holding her breath. Trying to hold her breath seemed to slow it down.

Jane's body would do what it wanted to do whether her mind agreed or not. She felt like her body betrayed her. Sometimes in more ways than just getting bigger.

And getting back down to her usual size could sometimes take days. She was thankful to have finally graduated high school so she didn't have to keep coming up with new excuses for her absence while she waited to return to her normal five foot nothing self. Jane's eyes passed by her bedroom's second story window as she made her way to the barn with the cows. Jane's mother had taken Bobby by his hand, heading as fast as she could manage across the open field between the barn and their modest farmhouse.

They passed each other heading in opposite directions. Jane with cows and her mother with Bobby. Jane's mother yelled over her shoulder at her first born. "Jane! Get those two in the barn now! And if you're not fixing to shrink down in the next 5 minutes to fit in the shelter then you need to make sure you're nowhere near that twister!" "Yes mama. Don't worry about me, just get safe in the shelter with the ankle biter."

At this size, Jane only had to speak in her normal voice to be heard over the increasingly louder wind. Her enormous red converse sneakers were making big oblong imprints in the grass with every step. It felt like she was just going outside in a light rain storm at this size. Bobby wasn't quite small enough to be a literal ankle biter.

Jane smirked about that as she was glad she didn't have to duck under the barn door to fit with the cows. Jane walked into the barn carrying the cows like housecats, instead of several thousand pounds of beef. She set the cows down in a big pen in the corner with the three others she had wrangled inside. Jane shushed the animals, scattering some feed like spilt table salt in her enormous fingertips and more calming reassurances in her deep booming voice. Jane felt an overwhelming relief that they hadn't lost any of them. While she was distracted by that fleeting thought of gratitude, like she had jinxed it, their old mare Midnight got her stable door open.

The horse made a run for it out of the barn trying to get away from the coming storm. "Midnight! No!" Jane cried and stomped out of the barn after her. Unfortunately, Bobby also saw Midnight emerge from the open barn door. And while his mother was occupied getting the shelter door open with both hands, Bobby also ran after Midnight.

He started towards Midnight in a straight line as his sister emerged out of the barn shaking the earth in pursuit. Jane glared at the boy's recklessness. "Bobby get your scrawny ass in the basement! I'll get her!" Jane boomed across the field at her little brother. The ten year boy old froze in place at the sound of his big sister's much bigger voice giving him orders. Their mother rushed over to Bobby dragging him, slack jawed and staring at his huge sister, back and down into the basement shelter. Jane caught up to Midnight in a few rushed steps. She slid to a stop and scooped the scared horsed up with one hand. Her kicking hooves lifted up into the air frantically searching for the ground. Jane heard the clattering of the shelter's steel door. Her mother was having a hard time getting the shelter door shut. She looked over to the horizon. The tornado was in sight and it was getting closer.

It was a big one. She felt scared.

Then Jane felt the wrong thing.

"Aw crap," she thought to herself. Jane quickly set Midnight down on the ground again. The horse whinnied but stayed put, agitated but loyal. Jane didn't need to deal with an overgrown horse trampling everything on top of what she knew was coming.

Jane looked down at her shoes. She saw the ground racing away around them while the shoes stayed put.

Jane's mother and Bobby stared up at Jane for one long moment before shutting the shelter door and locking it from the inside. Jane felt queasy as the ground swirled below. Except that wasn't what was happening. Jane was getting bigger. And bigger. Jane looked at the 50 foot telephone pole on the side of the road in front of her house on the long dirt road leading into town. At first she was looking up at the top of it, then she could stare at the top of it level.

In a few heartbeats, Jane was was looking down at it.

And down. And down. It got smaller and smaller as she went up and up.

She could feel her feet sinking into the ground as she got heavier and heavier with every passing moment. Midnight trotted around the growing set of shoes. The horse decided the safest place was in the gap between them. She settled there while they continued to get bigger.

Jane could tell this was going to be a bad one. She closed her eyes and grimaced feeling sick to her stomach like she was on one of the state fair's carnival rides. Jane didn't notice the old blue truck rushing into her driveway. It came to an abrupt stop at an odd angle next to the telephone pole. Another girl, the same age as Jane, stepped out the truck and looked up at the towering figure filling the sky. "JANE?!" the girl yelled up into the clouds, making Jane's name into two syllables instead of one.

To the girl, it looked like Jane was trying to have a grow off with the approaching tornado. It looked like Jane was fixing to win. She'd never seen her this huge before. The girl yelled again cupping her hands around her mouth, hoping it helped. Jane heard her own name like a whisper. She ventured to open one eye and slowly tilt her head down. She didn't feel like she was going to throw up anymore. That meant it was over.

But everything was tinier than it had ever been. Much, much tinier.

It meant she was big. Really big. Jane didn't want to hazard a guess at just how big. Seeing the 50 foot telephone pole barely reach her ankle told her enough. "Uh...Hi Bets..." Jane said looking down at the ground. She saw the girl cover her ears and cower as Jane's few words shook everything.

Her normal speaking voice at this size was as loud as the town siren.

Jane was suddenly thankful there was a tornado to help cover up her compunction. Jane looked over at how much closer the tornado had gotten and sighed.

She recognized her girlfriend's parked truck. It looked like one of Bobby's toy tin cars next to her huge shoe. "What are you...nevermind...there's no time..." Jane apologized while bending down. One huge finger extended from Jane's hand and gently pushed her girlfriend back into her truck's still open driver side door with the very tip. Then she pushed the car door shut as delicately as she could manage.

Jane picked up her girlfriend's truck between two fingers, with her back inside of it, and lifted it. Up and up and up. Betsy screamed, holding on for dear life inside the truck cabin.

Jane reached down with her other hand and also, very delicately, picked up Midnight with just two fingers like she was picking up a house spider to take outside. Jane turned her head to look at the tornado. Luckily, tt would pass harmlessly in the field between the barn and house. She got worked up and huge for nothing.

Mom, Bobby, the animals, and all of their earthly possessions were safe.

Jane lifted the truck up to her face and gave her girlfriend Betsy an awkward smile that filled the other girl's windshield like the morning sunrise. Betsy waved back, still frightened.

Then Jane carefully and slowly stepped over the telephone lines and dirt road parallel to her house. The enormous 19 year old took a few steps to the side and watched the tornado pass by her.

At this vantage, she could admire just how beautiful it was and was thankful that the tornado would help cover her enormous sneaker tracks a bit. ***

look at my forever wip

[bluespiritshonour]

I'm not sure if you've mentioned it before, but do you have any good Zuko x Mai fanfic recommendations???? It's hard to find one that's not one-sided or just set in the past.

Also just wanted to say, I adore your art <3

Oh! Hello. I was late replying to this ask because work + trying to remember the kind of fics you suggested because otherwise I'd just have plugged in a bunch of favs here and called it a day 😅

I do hope by one-sided you meant it feels like Mai's putting in all the work because if you meant it being Zuko (which I doubt) then that's not what this list is gonna be.

You're good though. Maiko feeling one-sided it one of my gripes too and I do always try to find fics where Zuko's a yearner.

🗡️ 🔥 🗡️ 🔥

This three parter series by @loopy777. I think when I'm old and gray, Black and Blue would still be not only one of my favourite fics, but one of my favourite stories. It's hard for me to find the kind of stuff I like in romance (which is why I usually avoid the genre but Black and Blue with it's flipping of tropes on it's heads was just the kind of thing I liked. Flowers For Mai has yearner Zuko. He's so earnest there—I think Zuko was canonically very earnest so I like him being written like that. And Making It Legal, I like it because wow, adult maiko acting like actual adults from all the life lessons they've learned and all they've learned about being with each other after all these years? They are acting mature and healthy and not like angsty teenagers? Sign me up! Even now, when I feel down thinking about toxic maiko I go and skim through this fic to make myself feel better. Maiko can be mature and healthy together, okay? Plus, I like character progression. Static characters aren't fun—and while all these fics can be read as stand alone, if you read them serially you'd find character development that is allowed to stick. Also, Black and Blue would forever be my favourite, I wish it was food so I could eat it.

For Better and For Worse (also by Loopy): they both confront their fears about each other and their relationship in this one. But most of all: this is the non-traditional, adventurous wedding maiko (and especially Mai) deserves!!! You know, from a meta textual perspective. They are not normies! There are plenty of normies out there but maiko aren't it! The narrative owes it to them not to make them normies! Jsvdwkwjwj!

🗡️ 🔥 🗡️ 🔥

i love you, don't act so surprised by @calliopieces : this is another fic I read when I feel down in the dumps and maiko's the reason 😅 (I touch grass I swear, it's still not enough sometimes) This fic makes me feel a whole lot better about The Boiling Rock. I like Zuko acknowledging Mai's sacrifice for him and accepting it and swearing to do better by her instead of being all "i don't deserve her waaaa." I find the later attitude cowardice.

🗡️ 🔥 🗡️ 🔥

Keeping It Quite by @headhedgehog : so. The thing about maiko feeling unequal, right? This fic satisfied my urge for good boyfriend Zuko. He's so accommodating of Mai in this fic! Look, I'm not a writer and while I can tell a good story when I see one, I can't generate ideas for it! I always keep complaining I want Zuko to do something grand for Mai like she did in TBR. He doesn't do anything grand here, but all the little things he does are so convincing, you know. I was on the verge of dropping out of the fandom when I found this fic and it made me stay. This fic has Aunt Mura say a line I'll always want to hear when it comes to maiko.

🗡️ 🔥 🗡️ 🔥

I hope you're okay with AUs 'cause Mirelle's ( @flameohotfamily ) an AU bender and Zuko in her stuff cares visibly for Mai.

i wish tomorrow never happened is a Hunger Games AU. And oh—when I first read it oh. I don't have words. Zuko's sooooooo! 🥹😭 He was Mai's mentor in the Hunger Games. I have it filed under my "Zuko does stuff for Mai" folder. Warning: it's sad.

the damaged flowers is a Victoria AU. Although this is more "Mai does things for Zuko", don't mistake it: Zuko's earnest like a puppy here when it comes to her. He's smitten. The way he is for most of this fic reminds me of his happy face in the finale when maiko are reunited. And Mai is very in character with the cartoon. Also, fair warning: it gets sad! Very sad.

🗡️ 🔥 🗡️ 🔥

Evidence by LizBee ( @liz-squids ): I love all of LizBee's fics because of their characterisation of Mai (and Toph too!) Also, non-traditional Mai!!! [Claps hands] This particular one is Mai centric where she's badass! She's Zuko's spymaster and what stuck out to me, personally, in this fic was how it manages to nail to balance between showing Zuko worrying for Mai's safety while also not shutting her out or trying to restrict her. It's a conflict I'm, frankly, not a fan of. It's neither "she doesn't need protection so i'mma just chill and make it look like I don't care about her safety" nor "oh my god! Mai, I forbid you to be my spymaster it's dangerous™". It's neither and I loved how simple it was! You can tell they've been married for years by now with the dynamic that's established between them! There's also the suggestion that Zuko would very much start another war for Mai and Mai's like yeah, that's why he's surrounded by people like Aang and Iroh who'd keep him from it! Another balance here, managing to show Zuko being a loverboy who'd be willing to go to such lengths for Mai while establishing a safety net that'd make sure he'd actually not go full Vlad Dracula Tepes.

🗡️ 🔥 🗡️ 🔥

Deep Ravine by Alabaster86 : Summary reads, After the birth of her first child, Mai falls into a depression.

I had never hoped to find something like postpartum depression handled so well in a fanfic but here we are. I love how throughout the whole ordeal, Mai has a support system. And the ending is hopeful. Zuko's a great husband in this one, although he doesn't appear as much. But that's not the point I suppose, it's about Mai and her struggles. It's also got some awesome Michi and Mai not exactly reconciling, but learning to see eye to eye. Although Michi is Akira here, so it's probably an old fic from before Michi was named. I love pre-rennaissance maiko fics ngl. The characterisation in them tends to be [chef's kiss]

🗡️ 🔥 🗡️ 🔥

If you want some modern AU college maiko DisasterFem's The Only Exception got you covered! Maiko here is equal (I say as I cry, fic writers really do keep us afloat, don't they?) and Zuko's side of maiko gets it's due. They're both trying so hard to move on and are still hung up on each other. It's a softer Mai, one that I think she would be after friends and therapy. Come on, we know she needs both. It's ongoing.

🗡️ 🔥 🗡️ 🔥

So, I guess that wraps it up, eh. That was a ride and I've yet to read maiko week fics. Apart from Black and Blue (which I promise would be worth your time despite being set in the past) most of it is maiko being adults and acting like adults. (Fuck you, Gene Yang). Sorry. I'm not sorry.

And after this much labour, I wouldn't be surprised if you've read most of these fics 🥹

[amellialunarie]

Can I trust my own eyes?

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·┈┈┈┈

It should have been a normal morning, where Jiro would knock on my door to do the daily examination and go through class with Lucas and Kaito. I would go on a mission with some ghoul, trying faintly to stop them from nearly killing every anomaly we encounter.

It should've been a regular morning. It should have.

.

.

.

So why can't it be now?

"MC, are you okay?" A question with a trace of concern; it's pretty clear.

But when my ear receives it, it's mixed with a swarm of dark feelings, muddled in an intricate emotion that makes my stomach churn at the sound of it.

"I'm okay,"

I want to throw up.

"For saying you're okay, you're not seeming like one. Perhaps we could assist you to the infirmary before heading to class, there's still time if we go now."

Lucas, as a gentleman as he could be, provided a very well-shown concern, but right now I just wish they could be indifferent to my condition.

"Don't push yourself, MC," Kaito said, his intensity rising as he got closer. "Who knows what could happen if you keep pushing yourself. Maybe we could—"

"STOP!!!" I nearly pushed them away too hard.

Silence wraps around us like a vine. Surprise lights up their faces from my outburst. I might see a hint of hurt, but I can’t focus on that now. But honestly, deep down I, too, don't want to be at this precarious point and feeling torn between regret and fear.

"I...I'm sorry, I didn't mean—!!!"

And that glitz comes into my eyes once again, making my whole body freeze in fear.

"It's okay MC, don't sweat it."

Their faint reflection on the marble floor, it disappears.

"As I thought, we had better send you to the infirmary. You seem sick."

Next second it reapppeared next to mine.

"Yeah, but Lucas....erm, if you went to Mortkranken...I'll entrust her to you, be careful." It's pretty clear Kaito is too scared to meet the Mortkranken ghouls.

When I blinked, their already glitching reflection became so scattered and abnormal.

My stomach churned in horror at the sight of them standing with an unsettling normalcy. They looked nothing like their scattered shadows.

"Come MC, I'll go with you to Mortkranken. Kaito will tell the teacher about your absence."

"...okay, thanks."

All I felt was cold on that touch on my back. What's exactly happening? That uneasy feeling has haunted me since my first day here, and now it’s biting back harder.

Come to think of it, on that day I met Kyklos, what did I—

"We will soon stop at Kisaragi Station."

Kisaragi..., there's no station with that kind of name. If my hearing didn't betray me on that time, then...

Where the hell am I now?

.

.

.

I shut my eyes, hurt by the reflections around me. They linger longer than usual.

Could I trust what I have seen at this moment?

Or am I finally losing all my reason?

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ .fin

#credits; seeing this post, I've been inspired.

[m0narche]

mx. valentine. (halloween?) uhm. uh. hai. anyways.

what about dilf!stsg trying to give darling head and darling is like. oh wow. thats really up close down there i don't want yall to see all that so she tries REALLY HARD to reciprocate instead to give them head and get them distracted so they don't have to see her down there up close. what then.

(yes this is based off ur tags saying you're never allowed to give them head 😭😭😭 recieving head scares me bc what if they get all close and they're js like. nah this is too fugly 😭😭😭 LIKE I WOULD ENJOY IT IM JS SCARED I THINK)

Mdnii, nsfw, implied afab reader

DID SOMEBODYYY SAAAYYYYYY DILF STSG AND INSECURITY IN THE SAME BREATH??????

Nuh uh absolutely not no mmm-mmm nope Unacceptable.

THEY WILL LITERALLY FIND A WAY INTO YOUR BRAIN AND KILL THE NEURONS THAT TRANSMIT THOSE NERVOUS MESSAGES IF NEED BE THEIR BABY IS NOT ALLOWED TO BE SHY!!!!!

Seriously tho,,, one of the things I love so much ab dilf stsg is the "being better than other guys" aspect, they're mature and grown and just..."real men" (in the positive sense lol) they don't care about body hair or smell or how it looks, what matters is having you screaming and squirming by the end of it, nothing is stopping them from getting those scratch marks on their backs,,,but that doesn't mean they don't understand why you'd be shy or hesitant.

As always nothing will happen without your full consent, and all operations stop the second you say so (although the dilfs are more inclined to pull away at the first sign of "discomfort",, very overprotective and paranoid) they're over-cautious with their approach to sex in general, so what happens in the bedroom is always what you want (during the first few times at least) but. BUT. Giving them head simply isn't gonna happen LMFAO I'M SORRY they just never want you there, it's offensive that'd even suggest that to them TAT they'll turn you down gently tho!!!! "I know you want to baby but it's just not where you belong" "its our job to take care of you not the other way around" you can try to sneak up on them but they'll just grab and plop you on their laps for kisses lol

Back to receiving tho, you can literally have radioactive octopus tentacles sticking out from between their legs and they'll get down and dirty right then and there (imagine Dilfguru holding his bangs back with those little Bayonetta reading glasses, on shucks now im hard ???) And if it's a matter of convincing then just consider yourself sold bcuz the smallest hint of dulftitis will have you nodding mindlessly. Besides after you give your approval everything goes smooth sailing, you have two dilfs for a reason, one of them takes care of you while his husband keeps you distracted with kisses and holds you still with his arms (they know you wanna run away, that's not allowed) honestly the hardest part would be the praise...too much of it, it could get overwhelming coupled with the shock waves coursing through your body and the gentle nibbling on your back.

Aftercare is just the cherry on top (cherrynon mentioned???) You're not escaping the arms that tangle around you to tell you about how proud you've made them, how brave you've been and how good you always are for them,, they don't get to cum but it really REALLY doesn't matter, your pleasure will always ALWAYS come first

[wafflexdguy]

OH OH !! How about a Dandys world where the mains toons react to their s/o save them but died in the process ?? I love drama 😏

Thanatophobia

Authors note: Their reactions to you dying by saving them would be the same if you died. So I'm just giving general 'you died' headcanons.

How you died or how they found you is different with each character.

CW: Slight Gore

================================================

When you were critically injured, you were freaking out. You probably shouldn't be, but regardless... here you are.

Fear overtook you. You fought like hell to get free of the Twisteds grasp. Not that it mattered though; the way you looked, you were going to fall over dead any second now. No real way of saving you, not this time. Not when you can feel the Ichor filling up your lungs.

You wanted help. You didn't want to die, not yet. Not like this.

You didn't want them to be alone.

...

Doesn't really matter what you wanted though, right?

Fate still calls all the same.

================================================

Astro

"..."

He didn't understand why you had disappeared for a few days. Sure, maybe it was common for you, maybe it wasn't but he didn't immediately assume the worst. Maybe you were just hiding in your room?

...In anyone's room?

...Please?

He wasn't exactly sure in what to do. Usually, the Toon Handlers would take care of this kind of thing, but... well. So what does he do? The next group run that happens he tags along. Everyone knows why, they don't question it. They don't need to.

When he does eventually find you... One of panic. He hyperventilates, staring at your mauled body, the signs of struggle that surrounded you. The Ichor staining the floor... It's enough to throw him in a spiral. A legitimate panic attack.

The other Toons eventually do come across both you and Astro, albeit one still alive and visibly shaking in the opposite corner of the room, just staring at you. It's hard for him to comprehend. It'd be hard for anyone to comprehend, really.

The other Toons try to calm him down, to little success. He's not yelling or anything like that, he's not doing a fight or flight response, he's freezing. He can't think clearly, but when he does, he just isolates. He doesn't talk to anyone, especially not Dandy.

At the same time, he has to do something. The endless knocking on his door with someone checking up on him is eventually going to drive him insane. Annoyed, to be more accurate. So when he does eventually open the door, the Toon greeting him would be surprised to see bags under Astro's eyes.

He's tired, and he's only been sleeping since you died.

He still dreams about you two together. He eventually does get out of his funk, somewhat. He goes back to giving others better dreams, which they appreciate. They know what he's going through, but what's there to say? What's there to say when the only person that could make him legitimately come out of his shell is dead?

His dreams turn into nightmares. It happens more frequently than he'd like to admit. More than he will ever admit, really. How he thinks he could have done something differently to 'save' you, or how he could have talked you out of going solo, but that's fantasy.

Whatever happens next, he isn't sure of. He'll be able to cope eventually. He'll go back to -somewhat- acting normal. But if you pay attention to the subtle notes of him being more reclusive than he normally is, than you can tell he's still not dealing with it okay.

================================================

Dandy

L-001

"..."

You didn't buy something from him.

Again.

Typically, he's extremely good with controlling his temper around you. Extremely good. Or at least, he's good at hiding it. Really good at hiding it. Still had that same old smile plastered onto his face, very subtilty and unnoticeably twitching.

If he had control of himself, his anger, he wouldn't have turned Twisted.

...

By the time he came back to his senses, you were already beyond helping. When there's nobody else to take his anger out on, he unwillingly took it out on you. He wasn't thinking about it, the Ichor stopped him from thinking at all. So eventually when he's able to form coherent thoughts again...

He can feel his heart coming up his throat.

"I- I didn't-... I wasn't-..." He isn't able to think clearly anymore. Again. He knows what he did, there's no pinning the blame on others. Not this time. He takes a few wobbly steps back as he attempts to process what he did.

He doesn't know what else to do. After five minutes, he just slowly walks out of the room, closing the door and locking it. The others don't need to know what happened here, what he did to his own partner. He knows it's wrong, but he doesn't know what else to do.

The devil on his shoulder says that it's fine, that you were just ungrateful. You should have bought something, that whole mess and ordeal was on you, not him. He doesn't acknowledge it, he ignores it; he pretends it doesn't exist. He just wanted you back.

It's weird for him. After a few days, people eventually just accepted that you were likely gone, just like other Toons that preceded you. He wasn't sure how to feel about that, but it's not just that; his entire normal schedule just felt wrong.

You weren't there to make the occasional joke, or to talk to him or really anything. It feels empty. Hollow. He still keeps that smile plastered on his face, but this time its way more forced than it normally is whenever someone doesn't buy from him.

Dandy doesn't confide to anyone about anything after you died. Not even accidentally to Astro. His own best friend, he can't confide about how he really feels about your death. Some part of him doesn't even want to accept that your gone, but that's stupid.

...But Toons do give him his space. After you died, Vee and Sprout just eventually stop talking to him all together because A: Obviously and B: They aren't sure if he'd lash out.

Either way, you're gone. And it's his fault.

================================================

Shelly

"Haha... Everything's okay, okay... OKAY...!"

Shelly had full confidence in your abilities. Whether that be distracting or extracting, she believed that you were practically invincible because of how often you managed to cheat death. And to her credit, for a time; you were. At least, you felt like it.

So when she was busy extracting and you were busy distracting or doing whatever else, and were at one hp... it probably didn't help that you had no idea that a Twisted Goob was on the same floor as you. Then again, maybe knowing wouldn't have helped

She only took a brief glance in your direction, so brief that the average person couldn't process it. For her, she saw you fly out of view and into the loving arms of Goob. And the subsequent crunching sound that occurred after that made her freeze all together.

Since most other Toons passively -and unintentionally- don't acknowledge or ignore her, most don't really notice the silent demeanors coming from her. She used to be eager to talk to anyone but as of right now, she's not enthusiastic to talk to anyone. She'd rather just finish this run to process your death in silence, all the while suppressing silent sobs.

When everything is said and done and the run is over either to people getting too injured or just lack of motivation to continue, some Toons do start to take notice of Shelly's silence and subsequent shaking. Her hands are clenched up into fists in an attempt to contain and compose herself. The other Toons ask if Shelly's alright. She doesn't respond.

She kind of becomes a mini version of Dandy, as weird as that sounds. Whenever someone tries talking to her immediately after your death she excuses herself and walks away. She wants to suffer in silence, it's what she's used to.

She doesn't have a healthy kind of coping mechanisms for things like this. Maybe that comes off as a surprise, but her immediate response is to not isolate herself but just... pretend like nothings wrong. Anyone with half a braincell would see straight through the facade, but she doesn't acknowledge it or really notice it.

There's nothing wrong.

================================================

Sprout

"...What-... what just happened?"

Sprout was right there. Right there. WITH you no less than a minute ago. And now you're getting tossed around in the maw of a Twisted Pebble, eager to get into those sweet, sweet bones of yours. Of course, you're able to get free, but you were bleeding out too quickly for Sprout to do anything to you in time.

It probably didn't help that Pebble was blocking the only route between you and him.

By the time Pebble did lose interest in you and moved on, there was already a massive hole in what used to be your heart. A broken heart, if you will. Sprout tried; he really did. Everything in his power to save you, adrenaline is a powerful drug. It makes you desperate.

It doesn't immediately process for him that you're gone. Really gone this time. Not leaving to get something, not leaving him alone because you're mad he left the stove on again, gone. Dead. Zilch. For a moment, he just stares at you. Blankly. Only for a brief moment.

The only thing that brought him out of his immediate funk was the distant barking and loud repeated footsteps. He didn't have to time to mourn. He had to protect his friends. He had to protect his friends. He had to protect his friends. Friends. FRIENDS.

He keeps himself tunnel visioned for the rest of the run. The only person he's willing to talk to at that point would be Cosmo, and even then he doesn't want to get on the topic of your death. He doesn't really avoid the topic, but he's just really banking on nobody mentioning it. To his credit, nobody does.

He does anything, literally anything to stop himself from thinking about you. Baking with Cosmo, talking with the various Toons that try to comfort him, distracting activities you've come to expect. It doesn't really work, he just thinks about how much you would have loved to join in on these activities.

He's visibly stressed. Tapping his foot repeatedly, clenching his fist behind his back, sometimes blinking due to stress. Toons notice it, they try some things to make him less stressed. Talking, baking, paper crafts, naps. None of it really works except for the naps for varying reasons.

Eventually he'll pretend like he moved on. Like, a week after it happened. He won't pretend like he's alright, saying, "I could be doing better." but it stems deeper than just that. Deeper than anything he'll ever be willing to delve into. He'd prefer to keep it that way.

================================================

Vee

"I- You weren't supposed to-! Not-... please..."

Vee broke off from the other Toons to be with you while you both were extracting. She was just naturally at ease with you, comfortable even. You actually managed to finish your machine before she could. You told her that you were going into the other room to find some items that could be useful.

That weird crunching sound that came soon after didn't fill her with confidence that you were alright. Obviously.

She dropped what she was doing and ran into the next room. You were clutching to yourself as you were barely shuffling away from the Twisted. She wastes no time in rushing over and punching the Twisted at full force. Being that she's pissed and scared at the same time, it knocked their socks off and needless to say: that Twisted is no longer with us.

That didn't save you though. You were still conscious as she held you in her arms, literally screaming at you to stay awake. Shaking you holding the wound that was bleeding the most as pressurized as she could, but it didn't help. Nobody was around to help, nobody that could heal, anyway.

By the time other Toons reached her to help, you were already gone. Vee was dead silent. Didn't say a single thing for a long while before she eventually got up and just muttered 'Lets finish up here.'

She's quick to accept you're gone. Not out of any malicious 'finally they're gone thing', but more out of her just knowing there no way you could have possibly survived that. She hates that she has so much information that she knows when it's helpless. In a way, Vee wants to be ignorant, so she didn't have to accept that you're gone.

That image of you never left her. Helpless and dying.

She keeps up the smug appearance only a few days after your death. She figures that was the most appropriate time to be mourning your death before having to move on. Some Toons comment 'how well she seems to be taking this'. She's not.

Much like Shelly, she takes a suffer in silence approach, it's just that she's surprisingly better at it. She literally acts no different than before you died. Maybe that's because she's a computer and able to hide emotions more easily, or maybe it's something else...?

The only person she'd ever admit that she's still not doing fine with is probably Astro. It's not for a lack of trying, it's for a abundance of Astro continuously asking Vee if she's alright. He doesn't state your death as being the immediate culprit, but more phrased like '...I've seen you slightly twitch a lot lately... Are you doing okay?'

She's not.

================================================

Reblogs are appriciated.

Just a reminder that although requests are closed, you're still able to talk to me if you wish! Either through messages or Inbox, I don't really care haha.

2k+ words... ugh

[battle-subway-twins]

Emmet gives a quiet hum in thought at that. It was true, the pair shared their Pokemon teams rather frequently. It was to the point that not even the Depot Agents were really aware of who was the actual trainer of which Pokemon. Well, maybe the more senior members knew but he somehow doubted that. "That's true... Despite everyone knowing my love of Joltiks and Galvantula's mom being my original Pokemon Emmet thinks most people associate me with Eelectross. Oh that or Archeops because they're so rare!" He chuckles before looking to his twin and thinking hard.

"For Ingo... It'd be his ace Chandelure but most people are afraid of her. Maybe Excadrill would be better?" Ingo could feel his Chandelure's ball move on his belt and he sighed. It was true that most people were leery of his first Pokemon due to her being a Ghost-type but he thought that unfair. She was one of the warmest and sweetest Pokemon he had. Same with his Garbodor, or honestly all his team. He just had to care for her a bit differently than the others. "The hats could be fun to see being sold to people, kids especially," Ingo chimed in, opting to not comment on his ace's 'scariness'."

A little surprised that she says it would be nice to see his own progress he can't help but give a little smile and nod. "Very true. I suppose I forget that we are improving with every battle as well." He chuckles before blinking at her laugh from what he'd said about her friend. Had he been wrong?

As she explained he understood further and chuckled himself. "Ah I see. Well if he ever does try to challenge us we shall look forward to the battle." He paused given that he was softly glaring at Emmet who had ignored his reprimand to watch the battle through the door. "Though one of us possibly more so..."

Emmet had in fact heard the reprimand but he was currently rather engrossed in the sight he was watching. The train was fully stopped now after all and he had a few minutes before it would start again and there was a bar here anyway. It was fiiiiiine. However at the doots he couldn't help but find a potential to annoy Ingo so he looked over with a pout, "you don't have to sound so disappointed Pendra! Emmet knows what I'm doing!" Yup that annoyed Ingo. He could tell in how he huffed since Emmet responded to Pendra before him. So rude.

"That might be hard if your team rotates often, as you said earlier," the redhead pointed out. "Though, I suppose they could use your aces~ I imagine you each have a partner Pokemon you're very associated with! I bet just your hats might work, too! They're very distinct, as we discussed~"

Was Daedra planning to become the head of the marketing department for the Subway System? It was a bad habit of hers to think too critically even with joking, but... it wasn't in her to ever give anything but her best!

"It might even be nice to see your own progress too, Mr. Ingo!" Daedra added as well, quite flattered they would even consider some of her suggestions. Boy, did that make her feel special! "Even if there are different variables day to day!"

When the darker coated twin commented on her friend, Daedra couldn't help but laugh. Mr. Ingo made him seem so focused and prestigious somehow with that comment. Daedra wasn't sure why, maybe because it was the Subway Master saying it... but, she knew her friend better!

"More he can't stand sitting around and being 'bored', and he doesn't spend enough time thinking on 'should' and 'should not'!" The amount of sport and various other self-inflicted injuries he'd gotten was astounding! "You know-- I don't think he's ever tried the Battle Subway! I bet he would if I told him; I'm sure he could make it all the way to you and Mr. Emmet!"

Would he beat them? Daedra wasn't sure, but it wouldn't matter! It was all in the experience of it, plus she knew her friend would enjoy himself if he won or lost. That was the great thing about him; he was a great sport no matter the outcome.

Soon enough, the train slowed to another stop. Daedra blinked as she watched Emmet stand to investigate the other car. Hearing his older sibling reprimand him did put an amused smile on her lips, which she atleast tried to politely cover.

Pendra, hearing Ingo, gave an almost reprimanding doot as well. While she may not have understood fluently, she knew when someone was breaking the rules! See? Pendra was sitting nice in the steel bug~ Mr. Emmet wasn't as big and rolly like her when the train moved, even if he could stand in it! Doot! Doot!

[egforsakentakes]

Dawg these are our admins 😭

Builderman: Thinks every problem can be solved with a wrench

Doombringer: Thinks every problem can be solved with a hammer

Telamon: Causes problems on purpose

Shedletsky: Uncanny Valley

Dussekkar: The braincell

To elaborate on this:

Builderman is a very technical person. He's good with the framework. He built this world from nothing and he knows it better than he knows his own body. However, this can lead to him becoming dissociated, and when he gets like this, he finds it hard to regard his creations as actual people rather than cute little lego toys. He can make the hard calls easily, but ends up second-guessing himself when he comes back down to earth. And he doesn't always make the right call, which he attributes to his "lack of humanity." He prefers to stay in his mortal form, which is how he got Forsaken in the first place. Even then, he struggles with empathy. He only sees John Doe as a mindless monster, for example, but he can see that Jane has a different opinion, so he dislikes his own perspective intensely. I don't know if I'm making sense here. Oh, and he tends to avoid Guest whenever possible out of guilt.

In contrast, Doombringer has trained himself to have a heart of stone. He does his job quickly and efficiently, without giving himself a chance to think about it. He knows from experience that people will try to appeal to his sense of sympathy to get out of being banned, so he's pushed it down until it's almost faded away completely. It was actually pretty easy to turn him into a Killer.

Telamon always hungered for combat and chaos, so he would occasionally stir up trouble himself for his own entertainment. It bothered his fellow admins intensely - a lot of extra work for them, just because their crazy bird got a little bit bored. However, what he really wanted was attention - everyone else was always so busy, visitors to the Heights were rare. He would not do well in solitary confinement. Causing problems was his way of getting people's attention. Gee, I wonder where I've heard that before! Over time, he grew resentful of the funny little people that seemed to have his friends' full attention. He eventually recognized that people didn't like his attitude and avoided him because of it, but he responded in a horrible way...

When he turned 1× into what they are now, he didn't just put in his hatred; he got rid of any emotion he perceived as "negative" - anger, fear, sadness... even his love of fighting went into the Creation of Hatred. Now, Shedletsky was just like the mortals the other admins cared for so much - silly, happy, whimsical and peaceful. But rather than be happy, they were horrified. Shedletsky was barely half the man he used to be. A lot of them, even Brighteyes, couldn't handle it and pushed him even farther away. They just couldn't see him as the same person anymore. Builderman and Dussekkar stayed, hoping he'd come around - but he was Forsaken before that could happen.

Dussekkar, himself, is definitely the group therapist and the voice of reason. His first instinct is always to protect. He was the one who came up with the concept of respawning (and likely, albeit unintentionally, established himself as the Spawn Two Time worships.) He spends so much time focused on both the mortal world and his fellow admins' well-being, in fact, that he probably lacks self-care.

So yeah... a group of deities that struggle with human nature. Fun.

I don't know any of the others enough to do them sorry.

.

[turtlecleric]

CWs: thoughts of suicide, suicide attempt

-

There are no stars here.

There were stars in the country. You remember staring up at them on nights when you couldn't sleep, getting lost in the constellations until your eyes got heavy enough to stay closed. Here, though, when you look up, there's just… darkness. An endless expanse of nothing. Almost like the stars themselves decided it wasn't worth it anymore to stick around. Light pollution, smog, yeah yeah, you know. But maybe… maybe the stars just decided to leave. To start fresh.

Or maybe… they decided to finally rest.

The wind cuts through your thin jacket, chilling your skin. Your feet sway where they hang in the air, over the side of the roof, and when you lean forward, peering down at the city below, you think you should be feeling some sort of vertigo. A bit of fear, maybe. Instead you feel… nothing. Just cold, and stiff, and tired.

You miss the stars. But you understand why they left.

The city is a blur of light and movement. There are thousands of people down there, even now, at this late hour, going about their lives. It's so busy here. Always busy and bustling and alive in a way that doesn't come naturally to you.

Out of place. That's what you are. That's what you've always been. But not for much longer.

“What are you doing?” a voice stage-whispers nearby. You inhale sharply, whirling around to see… nothing. You scan the empty roof, eyes wide, your heart lodged in your throat. There shouldn't be anyone up here. You checked to make sure when you first came up, and there had been no one. If someone had come through the door, you would've heard the heavy, ancient thing creaking on its hinges, and the ladder is to your right, so you would've seen if someone came up the fire escape. So there shouldn't be anyone up here.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I know this is weird or whatever,” the voice continues. It sounds like… a guy. Honestly, he sounds like a fucking dork, with the way he's whispering so loudly. “It's just that, like, Leo would kill me if I let myself get seen, but you've been here for a while and it's pretty late, or- I don't know, early? Whatever, but I had to check on you, y'know? So, like, are you good?”

…This is weird. Right? Yeah, this is definitely weird. The guy, wherever he is, doesn't… sound like someone you need to worry about, though. Something about the way he talks makes you feel like… talking back.

“I'm good,” you say slowly, the words feeling foreign in your mouth. You twist around further, still scanning the empty roof for signs of movement. “How did you… get up here?”

“Uhhhhhh same way you did?”

Okay so he's a terrible liar. Despite everything, it makes the corner of your mouth twitch upward. “Right. Sure.” You scoot back and swing both legs back up so you can stand, your muscles protesting from sitting still for so long. You take a few steps away from the ledge, peering around you. “And where are you exactly?”

His voice goes from a stage whisper to a cheesy imitation of a ghost, and yeah, okay, this is the weirdest thing that's ever happened to you, but you can't help laughing when he croons, “I'm a hallucinaaatioooon.”

“Uh huh. A hallucination.” There are a few vents on the roof. You start to walk between them, circling each one in the hope that you'll find this guy crouched behind one, but no such luck. “A hallucination that will get in trouble with the big boss for being seen? Is that what you said?”

“Pshhhh Leo isn't the boss of me. Well, I- I guess like sort of, in a way, but not like- I mean- Dad is the- okay, no, we were talking about you. What are you doing up here? Aren't you cold?”

You cross your arms, feeling a bit petulant at the question, though you're not sure why. Yes, you're cold. But it's… fine. “Are you cold?”

“Answering a question with a question, huh?” You hear a nervous chuckle from… somewhere. “Donnie does that when I'm being- oh shit, am I bothering you right now? I am, aren't I? I'm sorry, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I'll- sorry, I'll let you get back to, uh, sitting.”

“No!” You reach out a hand toward nothing, feeling more than a little silly as you continue to look around you in vain. The roof is still empty. “No, please, I…”

You… what? Want to keep talking? Missed feeling seen? Maybe he is a hallucination. Maybe this is your brain's last attempt at stopping you. But… it's true. You do want to keep talking.

That's just pathetic, isn't it? Sad, lonely little girl, wanting to be seen so badly that she'll hallucinate someone to ask if she's okay. There's no one here. You're alone.

You're alone.

Everything you had been feeling before you came up here returns, all at once, like a crashing wave, smothering you beneath the crushing pressure. Your throat tightens. Your lungs burn. There's a fog in your mind and a black hole in your chest and you're shivering but it's not from the cold.

…You've put this off long enough. It's time to stop pretending.

Your shoes scuff against the roof as you approach the ledge. A gust of wind makes you sway dangerously, and you think you hear the voice again, but the roaring in your ears is too loud.

Just one more step. One more step. One more. Just. Just-

Something yanks you by the arm, and you stumble backward, bumping into something big and solid. You're wildly disoriented for a few seconds, still getting your feet steady beneath you, and then you look up to see…

Okay. You're definitely hallucinating.

“What are you doing?!” The man (??) asks, frantic concern etched into every line of his face.

His face. Green skin. No hair. And no ears, and more of a snout than a nose, and a- a mask over his eyes? For some reason? You're officially losing it.

The man snaps his fingers - there are fewer than there should be, you notice - in your face, and his other hand rests on your shoulder, holding you in place. “Focus on me, angel, okay? Can you hear me? Are you okay? What were you doing?”

He's talking so fast you don't even get a chance to answer each question before he's asking the next. You stand there, watching him fret, and Jesus, he's huge. With a big… something? On his back? A shell? You look him up and down and back up again before you finally find your voice.

“Are you a turtle?”

He stops moving, going quiet, and seems to suddenly realize something. His expression turns sheepish, almost afraid, and he pulls his hands back to fidget with them in front of his stomach. You feel unmoored without the weight of his hand on your shoulder. “Yeah, actually. I am. Sorry, I… guess I should've… I'm… I'm Mikey.”

Mikey. There's no way this is real. Still, it feels rude to not introduce yourself in turn. Mikey seems to relax when you tell him your name, but the concern returns quickly, and this time when he speaks, he does so quietly.

“What were you doing?”

Is this… your brain trying to… get you to face what you're trying to do? Somehow? You know what you're trying to do. You've been thinking about it for months. Where were these hallucinations before you quit your job? Before you sold nearly everything you own and let your lease run out and cut off the few people who have tried to make a connection with you since you moved here? You're so tired. You're so…

“You know what I was doing, Mikey.”

There's silence as you stare at each other. You watch his expression shift from confusion to dread to sadness. He looks from you to the edge of the roof and back, and his eyes start to water, and you can't, you can't, you can't do this. That's not fair. It's not fair for your mind to come up with a giant turtle man and then make you feel bad for him being sad. That's fucking ridiculous!

…But you do. Feel bad. Mikey looks lost, and scared, and sad - and you hate it.

“Sorry,” you murmur.

Mikey makes an aborted movement with his arms, then shakes his head. He opens his mouth, then closes it, then opens it again. “Can I hug you?”

Well, now, this really is pathetic, isn't it? When was the last time someone hugged you? Is your brain that desperate for comfort?

…What do you have to lose?

As soon as you nod, Mikey puts his arms around you and pulls you close. His arms shake, just a little, but you feel secure in his hold. Your cheek rests against his chest, and it's… oddly firm. Textured. Warmer than the air, but still a bit cool to the touch. You can feel his chest moving as he breathes. It feels so real. And you… you don't want him to let go.

It's pathetic, fine, sure, whatever, you don't care, but when you start to sob and he only holds you tighter, you're so, so thankful that he's here.

You let yourself cry. He stays quiet, a steady presence that keeps you grounded, and when your sobs turn to sniffles, he's still holding you. It still feels real. It can't be real, it can't be, but honestly? Fuck it. Fuck everything. You really, truly, do not care. It feels good to be held. It feels good to be seen. To be… cared for. Your brain can hallucinate whatever it wants at this point, as long as Mikey is there, too.

When he starts to pull back, you cling to him. Embarrassing. Whatever. He stops pulling away though, holding you close again.

“Do you want me to take you home?” he asks.

“Don't have one anymore.”

“Oh. My bad.”

For some reason, that makes you smile. Your hallucination, which manifested because you were going to kill yourself, is apologizing for not knowing that you were homeless, which you did in preparation for said killing of said self. Yeah, no, that's funny. That's fucking hilarious.

Maybe you're a little sleep deprived, actually.

“Can I…” Mikey hesitates, his fingers tapping against where he's still holding you. “Do you maybe want to stay with me? For tonight? It's pretty late, so… you'll need a place to sleep, yeah? N-Not that I was, like, saying that- I mean, I'll take the couch obviously, so-”

Oh my god. He'd be sort of adorable if he were real. You let him stumble over his words for juuust a little longer before putting him out of his misery. “That sounds nice, Mikey.”

“Ye-Yeah? Okay. Okay. Cool. So I'll. Um.”

You yelp as he shifts his arms and picks you up like it's nothing, carrying you bridal-style. You look up at him with wide eyes, and he smiles hesitantly down at you. “Ready?”

You blink. Ready for… what? But, as you've already clearly established in your head, you're done questioning things. So. You nod.

“Alright. Uh. Don't freak out. Here we go.”

Don't freak- JESUS CHRIST. The air whips past you as he sprints across the roof and leaps into the fucking air. For a split second you're sure that you actually did step off the roof, that the hallucination has finally ended and it was just your brain scrambling to make shit up in the moment before you plummeted to your death - but then you feel the impact of Mikey landing on something and continuing his sprint. Then it happens again, a leap and a free fall and another impact, and then it happens again, and you realize he's- he's jumping between roofs. Carrying you across the city from way up here. How-

Nope. Nope. Not asking questions. Doesn't matter. He's got you. That's what matters. You press closer, loosely curling your fingers around a leather strap that's crossing over his chest. Another leap, and you think you're sort of, kind of, maybe getting used to it. There's a sort of rhythm to it, and you let yourself relax. You wonder if the rhythm is soothing or if you're just that exhausted. You wonder if any part of this is real. You wonder if you're falling asleep or falling to your death.

It doesn't matter, you decide. Either way, you'll finally be able to rest.

[white-btterfly]

There is no deadline to comment on fanworks! And I keep each of your comments under its own tag on my blog so that I can read them anytime I want. They never fail to make me smile ❤️

This chapter was monumental.

My heart stopped beating for a second. Pure, intense joy. I wish for every writer to feel that way at least once in their life.

When Viktor says that “personal” means “you and me” to Jayce, I’m screaming, crying, throwing up. Yes yes yesssss together forever in all things <3 and Jayce blushes, oh he’s so cute.

If you really want to know what was going on in Jayce's mind at that moment:

Jayce, thinking very hard: Viktor's romantic life is personal. I will never have anything to do with it, ever. I am totally not heartbroken over it. Viktor: Oh, by the way, 'personal' means 'you and me'. Jayce: *dies*

Jayce spent the last two weeks trying to bury his feelings of jealousy, and his feelings for Viktor in general. It took a tremendous amount of effort to act "normal" when Dimitri was mentioned, and it showed, because he was utterly bad at hiding his jealousy. So much that Viktor noticed it. Hanahaki cannot block Viktor from noticing the signs, but it might make him dismiss those signs as 'unimportant' or make him believe they 'don't mean anything'. And Viktor is easily convinced because, deep down, he believes his love to be doomed. Hanahaki reinforces Viktor's biases. After all, why would Jayce love him or be jealous over him?

I agree with you about Viktor not being an abrasive person. He's so soft-spoken, he feels things deeply... Viktor is not, and has never been, mean. Of course hurting the person he loves broke his heart a little.

Ahah, no, Dimitri would never ask Viktor anything untoward. He's a perfectly normal, decent dude. He's straight, he's got friends, he's got a job, he's nice to people who are nice to him... And he randomly receives murderous stares from the most popular man in Piltover for no apparent reason. Poor lad!

When I realized they were going to recreate the moment from season 1 when they figure out hextech and float in the anti-gravity blue sparkly glow, I knew I was in for a treat. I think the fandom agrees that both Jayce and Viktor treasured that moment, and that it irrevocably bound their fates together. And it was the only time Viktor really smiled, so it clearly meant the world to him. To see it happen again, on purpose, and as Jayce is trying to distract Viktor with happy memories…oh my heart exploded.

When I posted this chapter, I felt like a parent waiting for their children to open their Christmas presents. Like, I knew people were going to like it. Because, not to throw myself flowers, but I adore this scene I wrote. It felt so them. And I am a fan just like any other, so I had a feeling other people would like it too. I am so glad people loved that scene!

There is so much effort and care for the characters and world apparent within this story, it’s like a love letter to Season 1 jayvik. It is season 1 jayvik canon, in my mind. It’s what this fandom deserves.

I know the words will sound a bit lackluster, but... thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Jayce recreated the moment they changed each other’s lives. As a friend. A friend that is deeply in love, but he doesn’t know that about himself yet. God he has so much love to give, it’s ludicrous. It’s almost obscene. And when Viktor loves the surprise, it makes it all worse because Jayce feeds on praise. He’ll do something else bigger and better next time. His smile could blind innocent bystanders. Jayce was born to craft things and love Viktor. It’s that simple.

Yes to this. Yes to all this paragraph. It's 100% Jayce. He was made to do science and love Viktor. I will give him that.

And oh? New lore about them traveling through the hexgates? I love the imaginative scenes added to their lives. They always fit so well.

Thank you, again. I love adding missing scenes to make the world seem even more real to the reader. I just adore it. Feel like I'm doing it a lot. It also helps flesh out some characters, just like I did with Viktor in Chapter 4.

Okay rude that Jayce blurts out “love” as something people seek after their basic needs are met. That makes it seem like he’s the one seeking love. And his blush afterward???? Jayce come on, you’re killing me.

Ah! Again, here's what happened inside Jayce's head in my mind:

Jayce: Love! Jayce: *sees beautiful, charming Viktor and feels his heart inflate in his chest like a balloon and can't help but blush because, not only does he seek love, he seeks Viktor, and I think some part of him realized that deep down*

Your reaction to the almost kiss... Again, you make me teary-eyed, ahah. I have been wanting people to read this part for SO LONG. Ever since I saw the third episode of the first season, I longed for Jayce and Viktor to kiss while floating in Heimer's lab. How beautiful it is to share this vision to other people who feel the same way I do about them. How wonderful.

did you decide to place the almost kiss scene here on purpose for purely plot and pacing reasons? or did they just sort of…gravitate to each other when you were writing the scene?

The almost kiss was 100% planned. When I planned my story, I created an outline with a very short sentence for each chapter, describing the goal, or the key-scene in the chapter. Chapter 6 has always been that:

"C6 - Viktor and Jayce nearly kiss"

The kiss that wasn't planned was the one in Chapter 7... 🙃

I will share the full outline, without changing a single comma, in the behind the scene post. Not to sound clickbait, but some things in my outline might surprise you!

I hate you for writing it but I forgive you because I know the tension will be worth it in the end. My heart might be crushed to a pulp by that time, but hey, I don’t need one of those. Do I?

I don't worry about your heart the same way I don't worry about Jayce and Viktor. The three will suffer a lot but then will feel whole and fulfilled in the end. I promise you that!

Before Your Sun Sets - Chapter 6 is available!

Viktor is sick with Hanahaki. Jayce would do anything to save him—whether it be by developing an impossible cure or trying to find out who Viktor is in love with to smack some sense into them. Little does he know, he’s chasing his own shadow.

Read chapter 6 now

Read from the beginning

[chelseasdagger]

hello!! i'm not sure if anybody's interested but i've been trying to dust off my laptop and get back into writing! i've been going back to the old drafts i had for chapter 4 of teacher and the very, very rough outline is sitting at over 2k and it's nowhere near flushed out. i've got some good ideas for this next part and i really hope y'all will still like it!

[sysig]

I remember this game (Patreon)

[byanyan]

me two years ago: byan has always been a little bastard. awful nasty child who intentionally used their big doe eyes to manipulate people

me now: byan used to be a soft baby who just wanted love and acceptance, who slowly became hardened and selfish in order to survive when they realized they'd never get what they needed

[cicadidae-tm9899]

God I am just like the stereotypes

[drgnflyteabox]

can't get much better

pairing: ghost / simon riley x fem reader summary: simon is forced to take some time off - he makes the most of it. tags/warnings: very soft, pregnant sex, size difference, softdom!simon- he's a masculine man who doesn't let his lady lift a finger :'), oral (f), one (1) butthole kiss, dacryphilia, daddy kink (sigh), minor minor foot stuff, allusions to injuries and chronic pain, title from an adrianne lenker song w.c: 2.5k

You try very hard not to think about it, but it's hard not to notice how massive he is.

Even shirtless, he somehow looks bigger, muscles flush with heat and exertion under the sun. He toils and breathes hard like an ox, working while you sit on the porch wrapped in his big flannel. Wearing his clothes is like being swaddled in a blanket straight out of the dryer, warm and nostalgic and syrupy with love. It leaves you feeling some type of tender. You're afraid of that feeling sometimes, of how soft it is and how soft it makes you. He could ask anything of you, and you'd yield like he was pressing his thumb into a bruised peach.

You have.

"How are you two?" Simon is so quiet when he wants to be. One would think he'd clomp like a horse with how big he is, but he can float like dust. It used to startle you, but you've been sinking deeper into the memory foam mattress of this life with him and it doesn't anymore.

"Tired, even though I'm not doing anything," you squint at him through the late afternoon sun. It haloes him like an angel.

"You're growing my baby in there, love. That's not nothing," his voice is rough, it always will be. But it's rough now like earth and soil rather than rough with pain and smoke the way he'd sounded when you met him.

You're feeling especially nostalgic, it seems, not like it's hard here. His hand is warm on your belly.

"I guess so," you let him pet you for a moment. Your stomach is swollen but not as big as it'll get, just enough to veto pants. A few months to go still. "How's your back?"

"Argh," Simon says, taking a heavy seat next to you. Dismissive and yet he groans a little when his muscles unclench. Classic.

You slowly reach up and nudge him until he's facing the field opposite to you, face toward the golden afternoon sun and his back to you. He's never asked you to do this, to take care of him, but it's your favourite thing in the world.

His back is always rock-hard no matter how many times you take your knuckles and fingers to it. Just a condition of a hard life lived for him, countless falls and impacts and pushing through injuries. There's a slight slant to his spine now that isn't there in the pictures he's shown you of his youth, but the stiffness is the same. You might've said he was born to be a soldier, had you not known him as a father. He could do both, but - you'd never say this out loud - you were privately grateful for this injury. It wouldn't take him out forever, but the recovery would be long. Long enough to get the homestead started, to get you pregnant.

Simon would never be completely still. This was compromise. Sweet compromise, a life started and time with him you could think back on the next time he shipped out. Making the most of things, he would always say. Making the time count.

"That feels good, love" he groans. Bending forward slowly, relaxing, he's like an aloof stallion finally accepting an apple from your hand. Acquiescing. Showing you his back. It's trust, and you savour it.

"I bet it does," you tease back, just a little. Your fingers are nimble and attuned to his specific aches and pains. "Are you hungry for dinner?"

"I'm hungry for something," he turns, slowly, hands reaching for your thickened waist. Huge, work-roughened hands. War-roughened hands, holding you like a delicate egg. Sometimes it feels like he's the only thing that holds you together; all your pieces, everywhere, until he's holding you.

Kissing him is a contact sport. It's his hands moving, cupping your breast and then your pussy through your panties, your own hands wrapping around his broad shoulders like he's the only thing keeping you from drowning. It's open-mouthed, breathing into each other. Impossibly, you get softer, melting like ice on a hot day. 

Before you can lean back on the bench, he stands and lifts you with him. He's still hot from the day, damp with sweat, pushing you into the house while kissing you still.

"Simon-" you start, with no goal in mind. "Please."

"I've got you, love," he murmurs. He always does. Before you know it, you're laid back onto the plush armchair in your living room. Simon knows this is the most comfortable place for your newly-aching body. Affection swells in your chest uncontrollably and comes out through your eyes leaking down your face. Sure, pregnancy makes people emotional - but you're still embarrassed, touched by how considerate he is.

"It's alright, shh," he thumbs the tears at the corner of your eyes. His cock tents his work pants, aroused by them. "Let me take care of you."

The next words he murmurs are into your cunt, right over your panties, tongue laving over the already-wet fabric. "Just need your daddy, don't you?" You clench in tandem with his words, hot all over, skin prickling. He pushes your dress up, bunching it right under your tits.

It's reminiscent of how you spent the first night with him, on the very first day you'd met. Hurried, his big head between your thighs and clothes hanging off you still while he made you fall apart.

He's fucking good at it, too. Pulls your panties to the side and builds up the pressure with which he sucks on your clit, softly and then harsher until you shake. You've been extra horny lately, always wet around him and always so swollen. The scrape of his five-o-clock shadow against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh is what tips you over, clamping his head tightly and shouting your orgasm into the heady summer air.

"That all it takes?" Simon grins, chin wet, fingers moving from your hips to your pussy to gently rub along your slit.

"Give me a second, please," it's humbling how quickly you come nowadays. Quick and intense. Fireworks.

You set your foot on his shoulder and he turns towards it, kissing your ankle. Patience is rare with him, something come about only since you confirmed your pregnancy. You miss being overwhelmed by him, miss the nights where he'd guide you over the edge one, two, three times in succession.

He pushes now, just a little, not waiting for your go-ahead but watching you intently. His fingers spread your cunt in a V and he puffs a breath on your sensitive clit. You jump. He grins again, leaning down to lick you, using one hand to hold both your legs under your knees and push them until they meet the soft bump of your belly.

"Hold them there," he says. It's spoken not to you, but to your hole, which he spears his tongue into. You obey as you're helpless to do, holding your legs up and giving him an unimpeded view. It's more than vulnerable, it's not only baring yourself to him completely but giving him the authority to do what he wants. What you need.

Simon eats you out like it's a kiss, slurping you down and letting you leak until the evidence of your weakness to him is all over you. Your legs are wet, and it drips down onto your other hole. He pushes a thumb into your cunt, dipping it in and out.

"Needed me, did'ya? Watched me all day," he's so smug, sometimes. His lips find your bare foot, kissing your sole. "Been wet like this all day?" His other hand finds the meat of your asscheek, spreading you open further, letting the split of you open to him. He leans down, kissing your inner thigh, then your other hole. You whine and clench your pussy around his thumb. 

"So needy," he murmurs, finally finally moving back to your clit. Flicks his tongue over it, something that might've been teasing before but is intense now. Your hands tighten against your legs, head thrown back.

"Oh please- Simon!" You shout again, abs drawing up, stars in your eyes. "Ahh- I'm-"

"I know, honey," his lips suction again around the hard little pebble of your clit, eating like a man starved. 

This is how he likes you. Losing control, coming apart, helplessly vocal against the onslaught of his tongue. No matter how many times you've done this, it never gets old. The release almost always makes you cry, especially intense like this. You're wet all over, face and cunt and legs. He is, too.

"You still with me, love?" He pets your flank like you're a horse.

"Yes," but that's not what he wants.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, daddy."

"Good girl," and fuck if that doesn't always fill you with warm fuzzy energy. Wipes your brain, keeps you soft and floaty.

He guides you up and out of the armchair, lifts you into his arms when your legs shake too much. That electric feeling is still coursing through you, tingles in your extremities as they come back to life.

The hand he strokes over you is half affectionate, half proprietary. You've been his since the first time he laid eyes on you.

He reminds you of it as he sets you down gently on the bed, your hair a halo around your head and hands reaching to his face where you pull him down for a kiss. Hands find his shirt, pulling it off you, and then the dress. Fingertips touch the headboard, your arms stretching up, making room for him. Slips your panties down your legs.

It's a lingering, indulgent kiss. Breathing each others air, gasping into his mouth, he puts his elbows by your head and lays as much weight down as he can without cramping your full belly. He's as vocal as you, groaning and rutting like a dog.

"Ready for me, sweet girl?" He leans out of the kiss, sitting back on his heels. You nod, desperate and pulsing between the legs again like you didn't just come twice.

"Daddy's gonna take care of you, don't you worry," he rearranges you like a doll, turning you to your side and getting between your legs. A pillow is tucked under your belly, and he tests your flexibility by holding your leg tight to the length of his body. Your hamstring burns a little with it.

A hand holds your knee, another to your waist. His jeans scrape against your sensitive skin.

You focus on little details. His scar, touching his eyebrow and splitting through his nose, ending down by his jaw. The knuckles on his fingers holding your knee, and how rough the pads of his fingers feel on your waist. This man has never had soft hands in his life. Those same hands capable of so much force, so much violence, the very same that hold you and guide you. A shepherd, you his lamb.

The weeping head of his cock kisses your hole, catching there and traveling up. He taps it against your clit until you're tensing, whining, needy again. Tears down your cheeks.

He steadies you, pets your waist, guides his cock inside and it feels like you can breathe again. His mouth laves hot kisses over your ankle, the sole of your foot again, reverent and controlling all at once. The stretch burns - it always does, and maybe always will. Simon is just so big, thick all around and the mushroom head of him could always bump your cervix if he's not careful.

He's careful now, but only just. You can sense his control fraying, his hips driving forward steadily but his thighs tensing and his grip getting meaner. This is your favourite part. Watching him sweat, breathe hard, taking his pleasure in you.

"Yeah-" he cuts himself off with a long, drawn out groan. Deep, from the bottom of his belly and out. "Already so full of me, aren't ya? Can't get full enough."

You plead with your sounds, words out of your grasp. Your hands clutch at the sheets but it isn't enough. He's solid, he's your anchor, but he's losing himself in your cunt and you're free falling.

"Play with your tits for me," he commands, pumping faster. You're reflexively tightening around him, clit jumping for attention, squeaking each time he lets himself in as deep as possible and touches the mouth of your cervix.

Sunlight slowly fades on the bed, the last golden rays escaping out the window as you're bathed in dusk. 

There's nothing to do but obey, hands finding your swollen breasts and squeezing. They've been sore and huge, like that week before you get your period only it's been a couple months. None of your bras fit anymore.

Simon appreciates it, he loves it. Has you cooking for him with your tits out, nipples peaked and pussy leaking. They bounce, now, stopped only by your hands pinching and twisting. It's insane - no one in the world could replicate the feeling. No artist, no musician. Electricity zips from your breasts down to your clit and shit - you might come just like this, untouched, just full of your man and fondling yourself.

"Fuck, I can feel you squeezing me. Fucking," he pants, leaning over you, bending your leg. "Pinching my dick, sweetheart. Your pussy's so fucking good."

The orgasm begins in your toes, tingling. Your muscles tighten, drawing up, up, towards your cunt, which is making obscene sounds around him.

Simon sees the signs, sees your eyes rolling and your body going taut. He abandons your leg in favour of rubbing your clit with two big fingers quickly, up and down.

"That's it, sweetheart, come all over my cock. Go on," his voice is a snarl, barely distinguishable as human, beastly. "Be good for daddy.”

It's like the crescendo of an orchestra, like a summer afternoon in august, like waking up without a clogged nose after being sick, it's - really fucking good. You're near sobbing, crying out his name, abandoning your tits to reach for him desperately. He meets you halfway, shuddering his own orgasm into you. The press of his hips against yours is better than buttered toast, the delicate press of his chest against yours as he lets your leg go is bliss.

"Si-imon," you slur, hands on his cheeks. He laughs and kisses your forehead.

"What's that, sweet girl?"

"I love you," you cry a little more then, feeling him pull out and lay next to you. You're boneless.

"I love you too," his arm reaches across you, pulling you into him. "Both of you." Hand on your belly again.

"That was insane," you pant. He barks a laugh against your hair. "I'm serious."

"I know you are, love," he kisses your forehead, petting your stomach. You can tell it's meaning, can feel the gratefulness behind the kiss. He's saying thank you, for staying with him, for making him a father. Your hand finds his, squeezing back a wordless reply. Of course, it says.

<3

[astrolook]

Sun in the houses:

Let's see what happens how sun behaves in all these houses, both positive and negative. Mind you that every planet in any house or sign can exhibit both positive and negative traits and can manifest in a person.

Sun in 1st House: I’m not saying I’m the center of the universe, but... I kinda am. 🌞🌍

You just get leadership. You don’t have to try; it’s in your blood. If afflicted, your leadership style might feel more like "dictatorship." You’re so sure of yourself that others don’t get a chance to voice their opinions.

Your positivity and belief in yourself make others think, “If they can do it, I can too!”. If Sun is afflicted, it can come off as "I'm better than you" rather than "I believe in myself."

You’re the life of the party! Your energy lifts the room and makes everyone feel involved. If afflicted, you might crave attention to the point where you overshadow others.

You set big goals, and you achieve them. There’s no stopping you once your mind is made up. If afflicted, friends and colleagues can feel like you’re so busy chasing success that you forget to check in on them.

Your dad probably instilled in you a sense of pride and self-worth that shaped who you are. If afflicted, your dad could be too demanding or proud of you, it can create some serious pressure. You might feel like you’re living for his approval rather than your own dreams, and that can lead to overcompensating or burning out.

Sun in the 2nd House: Money talks, but my self-worth yells! 💸🌟

You have a strong sense of self-worth, often tied to personal achievements. You know your value. If afflicted, You might tie your entire identity to material success, feeling inadequate or worthless without financial stability or possessions.

You are ambitious, striving to build financial security. Hard work often pays off. If afflicted, your financial instability may lead to insecurity or even an unhealthy obsession with money. You may be overly materialistic.

You’re usually careful with your resources but if afflicted, you could be prone to overspending or hoarding, unable to find a balanced approach to finances.

A father figure can be a source of inspiration and a role model in financial matters and work ethics. If afflicted, it could bring inheritance issues or you may feel that you never live up to his expectations.

Can exhibit workaholic tendencies, sacrificing personal happiness or family life for financial gain or status.

You have the potential to rise above financial challenges, but if afflicted, you could experience deep feelings of insecurity or even shame when you don't meet your own or others’ material expectations, possibly leading to cycles of self-doubt.

You might view love through the lens of material gestures or gifts, making it difficult to connect emotionally or romantically.

Sun in the 3rd House: Your ideas are shining bright, but good luck getting people to stop talking long enough to hear them!

You’re a natural communicator, your words carry weight. If afflicted, you might dominate conversations or struggle with listening, sometimes coming off as self-centered or dismissive of others' perspectives.

Close, possibly authoritative, relationship with siblings; they could be supportive, or you may take on a leadership role in your family. If afflicted, Conflicts with siblings or feeling misunderstood could arise, leading to tension and rivalry, sometimes even to the point of no contact.

Quick-witted and sharp but also can struggle with overthinking, becoming mentally scattered or overwhelmed by too many ideas at once.

You could excel as a teacher or mentor. If afflicted, a tendency to lecture or impose your ideas on others.

Enjoys frequent short trips. On the flip side, Travel may be more about running away from stress or distractions rather than meaningful exploration, leaving you feeling unsettled.

You naturally build connections with people in your immediate environment, making you very social and approachable. If afflicted, can come off as superficial or too eager to network.

You have a great sense of humor and can use wit to win people over in conversations. If afflicted, might use humor as a defense mechanism or to hide insecurities, sometimes crossing boundaries or coming across as insensitive.

Sun in the 4th House: Home is where your heart—and your ego—are, and good luck moving past your childhood room!

You deeply value your home and family, often finding identity in your roots and personal space. Sometimes, it can lead to clinging to the past or feeling stuck in old patterns.

Your self-esteem may become too tied to your home life, making you feel insecure or restless if things at home are unstable.

You may have a strong, nurturing relationship with your mother or a motherly figure, who plays a central role in your life. If afflicted, A dominant or overbearing mother could lead to conflicts or struggles with your own sense of self.

You have a deep appreciation for your heritage and traditions. If afflicted, You may be too focused on the past, unable to move forward or let go of old family patterns or unresolved issues.

You may find comfort and strength in your private life, but sometimes a strong need for privacy might lead to isolation or difficulty expressing yourself outside of your home or family setting.

Sun in the 5th House: You’re not just good at playing games—you’re good at being the star of them!

You have a strong need to express yourself creatively, often excelling in arts, hobbies, or self-expression. If afflicted, Can become too focused on being admired for your creativity, leading to vanity or insecurity when not recognized.

Life is a playground for you; you seek joy, excitement, and adventure in everything you do, but if afflicted, may seek too much pleasure, becoming careless or irresponsible, neglecting other important aspects of life.

You approach romance with confidence and passion but sometimes you might crave validation through romantic relationships, leading to drama or superficial connections.

If you become a parent, you’re likely to take pride in raising children and may have a natural ability to nurture and inspire them. If afflicted, can become overly focused on impressing your children or living through them, putting too much pressure on them or on yourself.

You are willing to take risks for excitement but on the flip side, A penchant for risk-taking could lead to reckless behavior or impulsive decisions, sometimes causing unnecessary harm to yourself or others and regrets.

Sun in the 6th House: You’re the go-to person for work, health, and making sure everything runs smoothly—unless you’re burnt out, of course!

You take pride in your work and have a strong sense of responsibility. You’re highly dedicated and reliable. If afflicted, it could be overburdening yourself with tasks and potentially leading to burnout.

You find fulfillment in helping others and often take on service-oriented roles where you can make a difference. Sometimes, you might feel taken for granted or unappreciated, especially if you put others' needs before your own, leading to frustration.

You are often very conscious of maintaining good health but sometimes you could become obsessed with health routines, leading to anxiety about perfection or overemphasis on minor health concerns.

You feel fulfilled by supporting or mentoring others, often excelling in roles that require service or care. You might struggle with self-worth if your efforts aren't appreciated or recognized, leading to resentment.

You possess strong mental and physical discipline and you may become overly critical of yourself or others if things don’t meet your high standards.

You’re excellent at identifying and solving problems but over-thinking or obsessing over problems can lead to anxiety or difficulty seeing the bigger picture, getting stuck in the minutiae.

Sun in the 7th House: You love being in the spotlight of relationships—just make sure you're not shining too brightly for your partner!

You thrive in close relationships and find your identity through your connections with others. If afflicted, you may become overly dependent on a partner for validation, losing sight of your individuality or putting too much pressure on the relationship.

You may take pride in your role as a partner or spouse and often invest deeply in committed relationships. If afflicted, You could place too much importance on marriage or partnerships, potentially attracting bad partners that are either possessive or just use you.

Your relationship with your father can have a significant impact on your views of partnerships. If your father was distant or authoritative, you may unconsciously seek partners who resemble him, leading to issues with power dynamics or unfulfilled needs.

You excel in negotiating and finding common ground in relationships but you may avoid confrontation or sacrifice your own needs to keep the peace, leading to resentment or unresolved issues.

Sun in the 8th House: You don’t just like to dive deep, you want to see what’s under the surface—and no, we’re not talking about the fridge!

You experience emotions deeply, with a strong ability to connect to others on an intimate level. beware, intense emotions can lead to emotional highs and lows, making it difficult to find balance or feel stable in your personal life.

You are fascinated by the unknown, with a natural curiosity about life’s deeper meanings, psychology, and even the occult. You may become obsessed with uncovering secrets, and sometimes, this can lead to unhealthy fixation or paranoia about what’s hidden.

You’re often able to emerge stronger from crises or difficult experiences but also you may become addicted to chaos or dramatic transformations, seeking out crises for the sense of power or transformation they bring.

You have an innate understanding of life's cyclical nature, and you often feel comfortable with the idea of death, allowing you to live more fully. This connection can turn into a preoccupation with mortality, possibly manifesting as anxiety or unhealthy fears surrounding death or loss.

If afflicted, a troubled relationship with your father, possibly marked by power struggles or emotional distance, could lead to unresolved issues or feelings of inadequacy that carry over into your relationships.

Sun in the 9th House: You're on a never-ending quest for truth, knowledge, and adventure—basically, a cosmic tourist with a PhD!

You are drawn to big ideas, philosophy, spirituality, and have a strong sense of purpose, often inspired by a higher calling or ideal. If the ideal is unattainable or unrealistic, you might feel disillusioned or disconnected from reality, leading to frustration or unrealistic expectations.

Travel, especially abroad, opens your mind and helps you grow as a person. If afflicted, leads to a feeling of being ungrounded or dissatisfied if you're unable to travel or explore as much as you’d like.

You might even study or work abroad. Your family could have mixed races.

You enjoy being a guide, especially when it comes to life’s big questions. If afflicted, can exhibit a tendency to be overly preachy or self-righteous could alienate others.

Sun in the 10th House: The spotlight is yours! You were born to be on stage—just don’t forget to thank your fans (or, you know, your boss)!

You’re highly motivated to achieve your professional goals and to be recognized for your efforts. If afflicted, you may become overly focused on career achievement, neglecting personal life or burning out from putting all your energy into work.

You care deeply about your reputation and public image, working hard to project a successful, competent, and reliable image. If afflicted, an excessive focus on public perception might lead to superficiality, a tendency to prioritize appearances over substance, or anxiety about how others view you.

Your career goals often play a significant role in shaping your sense of self. Achieving professional milestones boosts your confidence and sense of purpose. If your career is the only way you define yourself, failure or setbacks in your work life may cause a loss of self-worth or personal identity.

Your work is a vehicle for self-expression. You want your career to reflect your true talents and individuality. If your work doesn't align with your authentic self, you may feel you're not being true to who you are.

Your father may serve as a strong role model for career success, influencing your own professional aspirations and ambitions. If your relationship with your father was strained or critical, you may feel like you’re constantly trying to meet his expectations or prove yourself, which could cause you to chase success for the wrong reasons.

Sun in the 11th House: You’re the lonely butterfly with a mission— dreaming of changing the world one connection at a time!

You're that introvert in the extroverted setting. You could be surrounded by people all the time and still feel lonely. You prefer a one-to-one connection than a group setting.

You may become disillusioned or frustrated with the slow pace of change or people who don't share your level of commitment to causes, which could make you feel isolated or unsupported.

You likely to adopt kids or maybe you are the adopted kid. There is a possibility of having a step-father or divorced parent.

You're not one to conform easily and prefer to stay true to your unique self, even in social settings. Definitely, not a sheep.

You like to talk with strangers online and loves to spend time online. If afflicted, chronically online.

Sun in the 12th House: The spotlight is on you, but you’re hiding in the shadows—awkwardly shining in silence and doing some serious soul-searching!

You have a deep connection to your subconscious mind, offering insight into hidden aspects of yourself. This connection can bring about significant personal growth and spiritual awakening.

Could have had a relationship or a fling with a professor or teacher of some sort. Or was it just a crush?

You could shine by moving to other countries for studies or even work. You might feel like you don't belong here.

You could be working in a hospital, programmer, researcher, or just any "behind-the-scenes" jobs.

Have a tendency to avoid the spotlight. You might won't even show your face on social media.

Your father could be distant or could be that he is not there for you.

Curious about your birth chart and what it's really saying about you? 🌟 Slide into my DMs for a personalized astrology reading, and let's unlock the secrets of your stars. ✨ Don’t forget to check out my pinned post for pricing details! 🔮 Let’s make those cosmic connections happen! 🌙🌌

[yanderedrabbles]

What's the worst thing Yan Military Contractor has ever done to the reader?

Yandere! Military Contractor

The very worst? Now that's tough competition. He's fucked you raw so many times that afterwards you can only curl up and whimper, legs aching so bad you can't stand. He's bitten you so hard that he's left a scar of his teeth on your thigh. He's bent your arm so very far up your back that on bad days your shoulder still aches. He's done anal without any prep or lube.

But the very worst? That happened on the day you almost escaped.

He likes to humour you. Likes letting you try and get away, just to drag you back at the last second. Likes the way you fight so much harder when freedom is so very close. But he never once entertained the thought of you actually succeeding.

You're too damn clever sometimes. Too smart for your own good.

You planned your escape carefully this time. Waited for a rainy day when he'd have trouble hearing your footsteps and seeing your tracks. Managed to make a mess in his armory and get out of a second story window when he was distracted counting his guns. And then you ran.

You saw a tree out on your forced walks once. Thick oak with branches that just about reached over the fence. It would be a hard fall, but if you managed to not snap an ankle you'd be home free.

He almost found you. You were up in the branches, rain pelting you in thick sheets when he walked right under you. It was pure luck that you noticed him in time. Even without the noise of the rain to cover his footsteps, he was dead silent.

He looked pissed. But that wasn't what made your heart drop.

He had his gun with him. Not one of the rifles or shotguns. That might have almost been better. Those guns felt unreal, felt like something out of a movie. No, he was carrying his chrome .50 calibre Desert Eagle.

You hated that gun. It was the one he carried on him almost all the time, the one he had the day he took you. Huge, mean looking thing. 'One of the nastiest shots you'll ever see,' he told you once.

It was scratched with years of use. A soldier's gun. A killer's gun.

You fingers went numb on the branch before you had the courage to keep moving. You dropped down on the other side of the electric fence, landing bad. You smacked a hand over your mouth to stifle your yelp.

Staggered to your feet, holding onto the trees to take the pressure off your stinging ankles. You did it.

You actually fucking did it.

You were free. Actually, finally free. You half didn't believe it until you reached the end of the trees and open farm land stretched in front of you. The rain was so much worse without the trees to protect you, but you didn't care. An empty field of wheat had never looked so damn good.

"On your knees."

You froze. No. No.

"I said, get on your fucking knees!"

You sat so fast that you felt lightheaded.

He came to stand in front of you, blocked your view of the open land and your last chance to escape. He was scowling, hand gripping his gun so tight that veins were standing out on his forearm.

The rain was sheeting down around you, running past the grooves and catches of his pistol. You couldn't see his face through the rain, but you could feel his eyes. Raking down your body, burning.

He pointed the gun at you, cocked it. The metallic sound of it somehow the loudest thing you'd ever heard.

"Open your mouth."

"I'm sorry! Please just-"

"Open. Your. Mouth."

You did. He forced the barrel passed your lips, all the way to the back of your throat. Your teeth scraped the metal.

It tasted bitter. Iron, gunpowder. It tasted like your death.

His finger was on the trigger. One little twitch, one inopportune gag, and you were done.

"Suck it."

You did, crying so damn hard but terrified to make a sound.

"No," he snarled. "Suck it like you would a cock."

He grabbed your hair, yanked your head back. "Show me why I shouldn't kill you right here and now. Remind me exactly why I keep you around."

You sucked his gun like your life depended on it. Tongue out, drooling, like you weren't a hairs breadth from death. Looked up at him with rain and tears pouring down your face.

You must have given him one hell of a show. When you couldn't take it anymore, when you were shaking from the cold and your lips were turning blue around the metal, that's when he pulled out. One hand still in your hair, he pointed the gun at the sky and pulled the trigger. The gunshot echoed over the trees.

Fuck. You really did just have a loaded gun in your mouth.

He holstered it, grabbed your jaw with the hand that just held your death.

"Never again. Yeah?"

"Yeah."