#i still have a couple more to do so those will (hopefully) be coming soon :]

[lead0]

a couple doodles i did for some twitter requests :)

[readychilledwine]

Could i request something where az and reader are mates. They have a huge fight and “break up” and reader leaves the court. She finds out that she is pregnant and writes him a letter. He never shows up so she thinks he doesn’t want the baby. Rhys visit the court she is in and sees her with a child maybe a couple months old. He is mad because she didn’t told him and when he ask her why she keeps his nephew away she tells him that she wrote az but he never answered. Rhys is mad and ask az what is up with him to just leave his pregnant mate. Unbeknownst to him that az was searching for her the whole time. Az tells him that he never got a letter and they find out that maybe elain burned it. It takes some time for them but they find their way back and just fluff azriel dad who teaches his son how to fly.

( you could write more angst between reader and az because of elain or you could use a maid or something who wants az)

Here Without You

Summary - Being a single mother was more painful than you'd ever thought it would be, especially when your son's father was just a court away.

Warnings - Angst, Elain showing those claws, single mom status, a child, PPD and the thoughts that come with it, **edited to add** cheating

A/N - I had one of my friends who is a single mom help me with this one while also imagining my life without baby daddy, and um, yeah. We cried a lot, so hopefully, you all do too.

*message from Liz regarding the ending at the end*

💙Peep my Azriel Masterlist Here💙

You had decided whatever you had done to offend the Mother must have been truly unforgettable and unforgivable as you sank against the wall of your family chambers in the Day Court Palace.

Being a new mother was the hardest thing you had ever and will ever do. You had finally gotten Nox down after 3 hours of fussing and tears, and now you waited. He'd sleep 2 hours if you were lucky, wake up crying, and you'd start the process over.

You had wished for your mate more times than you could count, but that bridge was long gone and burned. He had ensured of that by not coming when you wrote him, by not even bothering to write you a response.

The last fight between you and Azriel had been ugly. Glasses had been thrown, a bottle of wine knocked over in rage, cruel words you would both have to live with ringing in your ears like a scream. 350 years. Gone. Thrown away like garbage. All for Elain.

Selfish, plotting, destructive Elain.

You stood, body swaying with sleep deprivation setting in before sitting at the table where your now cold food set. You were too tired to eat, choosing to instead drink the water you had been desperately craving 4 hour ago.

You had wished you could turn it to wine, drink it with no consequences, and still feed Nox when he woke, but that was not the reality of the world. So, instead, you allowed the room temperature flavorless beverage to slide down your throat before moving like a ghost to the couch. There was no point in getting comfortable in your own bed. You would have to be up soon anyway. It wasn’t as if you had help.

You were alone.

And that wasn't even the most painful part of it.

The most painful part was setting in doubt. The growing disbelief that you weren't capable of this, that Nox deserved more, that you should have dropped him at the cabin you had no doubt Elain had moved into, leaving him with her and Azriel to allow you to-

You cut your brain off, refusing to put those words into a full thought. Refusing to believe that your disappearance or death was better for your son than this.

This had to be enough, you had to be enough, because Gods if it wasn't and you weren't, then what truly was the point in living any longer.

Helion entered your chambers the next morning, eyes falling to where you were sat on the floor, shoulders shaking as sobs tore through you. He placed a large warm hand on your shoulder before taking Nox from your arms. "I know I can not offer much of a break due to his feeding cycle, but when is the last time you ate a hot meal, y/n?"

You shook your head. He was 2 weeks old. You supposed it had been before labor. Since then, it had been moments begging for just a second of deep sleep. Moments begging for the Mother to help you, to guide you. Moments where those prayers went unanswered as if they were just thrown into a void. "I don't remember."

Helion could have killed Azriel for you, for Lucien, for Nox. He almost had when you had winnowed yourself here, collapsing in his arms from the exhaustion magic and a growing babe had caused your body.

You hadn't known when you came to the Day Court, begging your oldest friend for a week of safety and healing that you were pregnant, but the High Lord had scented it the second you appeared.

It left him wondering how the hell Azriel hadn't.

"Let me hire a wet nurse for you," he offered again, knowing you would turn it down since your depressive state had you hyper fixated in this belief that all you were good for now was your breasts, and if you gave that duty away, what purpose did you have? "At least for the next few hours. To give you time to rest?"

You still shook your head, messy, tangled hair trying to sway. "I can't. I can't burden someone else."

Helion turned his head away from you, willing himself not to cry at the emptiness of your voice, at the lifelessness you had become.

"The Night Court and Spring are coming today," he started slowly. "I am the magic selected neutral ground for Tamlin and Rhysand to begin setting a peace treaty and trade routes." He waited for your reaction, almost breaking further as you gave him none. "Do you want to see any of them?"

"Lucien and Tamlin."

Helion felt his heart shatter for Cassian, the male who had been asking about you for months now. "The general-"

"Is Azriel's brother. And probably has taken his side. Attempts to see me are probably to give him some sick sort of satisfaction."

He dropped the subject immediately. Nox was asleep, content in the High Lord's arms. "I have time before they arrive, go nap." Helion ordered it, eyes blazing a soft gold and forcing you into submission.

Your bed had never felt so soft.

Helion was walking with Nox around the Palace, smiling and cooing the little male. He was always content when he was being held, and you were so deeply asleep you hadn't even noticed Helion holding the boy to your chest as he nursed. He walked towards where Lucien and Tamlin were.

His son, his pride and joy, looked just radiant in his Day Court attire. The soft, off-white pleaded fabric draping him showed the new healthy build he had gained since Azriel and Elain's transgressions, a golden snake wrapped his bicep, new golden earrings adorned those many piercings.

Lucien paused, a look of concern etching his face when he saw Nox before shaking his head rapidly.

But it was too late, Helion was already in the room where Rhysand also stood with the Inner Circle. The Lord of Night's face fell as he looked at the Illyrian boy, looking so happy up at Helion as he dozed off.

Cassian had frozen, mid sentence with Nesta. He had tried to take a step, wanting to see the babe he immediately knew was his nephew. His eyes met Helion's pleading with permission to approach. Elain's face had paled. A mix of guilt and fear running across it before she schooled it into a faked look of hurt and sadness.

But it was Azriel's face the broke the High Lord. It was a look he knew all too well.

The look of a father who missed the birth of his child.

The look of a father who didn't know he had a child.

The look of a father mourning lost time.

Lucien moved to Helion, taking Nox before leaving the room quickly. The boy did as he always did when his head found Lucien's warm bare shoulder. He released a heavy breath, snuggling into that familiar scent and warmth. "Your mother did not call for me last night," they all heard his soft voice trailing off, speaking to their nephew softly.

"You will tell me everything I do not know," Rhysand demanded as if he was in his own court. "When the fuck was he born. Why were we not informed of her pregnancy?"

Tamlin looked to Helion, digging the shit further. "Is she in the same room as last time?" The Lord of Day nodded. "I will go see her while you all deal with this."

Helion didn't answer, walking to the centered round table and taking the head seat. "To begin, Rhysand, this is my court. You will not make demands of me in my home." They all sat, aside from Azriel. His gaze was locked on the hallway Lucien and Tamlin had gone down.

If he ran, he could catch them. He could see you. He could-

The slam of hands on a table ripped him from his thoughts, and his head snapped to Helion. The High Lord was blazing, glowing like the sun itself, heat radiating from him. "Sit. Down."

An hour later and Rhysand had the bridge of his nose pinched between his fingers. "You saw her send each letter?"

Helion rolled his eyes, nodding again. "Every month after every check up and once after the birth."

Rhys pointed to Azriel. "But you never got them?"

"My son wouldn't be in another court if I had," Azriel's voice mirrored yours. Broken, empty, mourning. Mourning what was, what he had missed and would never get back. "You're sure she sent them to me?"

Helion could have snapped his neck. "Who else would have fathered her babe? You are the one who stepped out of the bonds of marriage and mateship. Not her."

Azriel paused, a sudden look of anger gracing his face as he looked up at Elain, shadows curling his ears. Nuala appeared, setting envelopes down in front of Rhysand. "In her room. Under her bed in a locked chest. Along with every communication you had tried to send to y/n, my lord."

Feyre gasped, turning her back to Elain and leaning further into Rhysand, holding Nyx tightly between them. She remembered those first few weeks. The sleepless nights, the pain, the emotional down pour. She would not have survived without Rhysand. Without Nesta and Mor. Without Cassian and you and Azriel. Her sister, the one who had held her as darkness swallowed her mind after her son's birth, had allowed you to endure this alone.

Azriel's hands shook, reaching for that stack. He separated out the letters. 10 for him. 2 for Rhysand and Feyre. 2 for Mor. 2 for Amren. 4 for Cassian and Nesta.

Helion stood. "I will let you all process this. Call for me when you are ready to do negotiations. The sooner you all leave, the better for her."

Rhysand's eyes shot up. "You won't let us explain to her-"

"Does it change the fact that he took Elain to their marriage bed? Does it change that he signed the annulment papers." Silence filled the room. "I believe that's why she left. Correct?" Rhys grit his teeth nodding. "Then all this changes is me, someone she trusts and feels safe with right now, informing her of what happened and allowing her to decide if she wants to reach out again from that point." He made a pointed look at Elain. "Which would not matter since I cannot see you removing the parasite from your court."

Helion walked into your room to Lucien and Nox laying skin to skin, a blanket over them as Tamlin held you, long fingers running through your dark hair. "And?" His son said.

"Your mate hid the letters regarding her pregnancy." Lucien whistled. "She's a snake hiding behind beautiful scales."

Azriel had tracked down your room with his shadows easily. The inner circle had been excused for the negotiations and allowed to explore the city. Cassian had flown Elain home, Mor and Amren winnowing Nesta behind them. Cassian wanted Elain out of his house, and Azriel could not have been more grateful to his brother for having his back.

He entered the room slowly and quietly. You were placing the babe in a crib on the balcony. It was shaded from the sun, shielded to remain the perfect temperature, and yet gave him access to fresh air, to the breeze.

You turned, eyes wide the second you saw Azriel. He moved to you so quickly that you could hardly process it. One second, your feet were on the ground, and the next, arms held you tight against him. Azriel was breathing deeply, memorizing your scent all over again.

He set you down, keeping you close to his chest, and sent a prayer to the Mother. "Elain hid all the letters," he began slowly. "She kept them all in her room. I didn't know. Had I known about you, about him, I would have crawled the very depths of hell to bring you back home to me."

You didn't answer. Tears fell as your body relaxed into him. It wasn't fair. The hold he had on you. The need you still felt in your bones when he touched your skin. You ached for Azriel so deeply it echoed into your bones. You longed for his smell. His voice.

Azriel took your silence as permission to continue. "I made a mistake. I will never be able to make up for it. Elain knew the second you left, I wanted to correct this. I was so blinded by her, by the feeling of being needed like that again, that I forgot how precious your independence was. How beautiful it is."

He couldn't stop himself from kissing the top of your head. "You are all I think about. Morning, noon, and night, it is always and will always be you. I am so sorry for what I have done. I am sorry for hurting you, for ruining us, for hurting the family we should be raising together. There are no words for my remorse."

"Why?" Your voice broke as you asked. "Why wasn't I enough?"

Azriel pulled back to look at you, hand raising to hold your chin and force eye contact. "Y/n, you are not at fault for my actions. You did nothing wrong. There is no partial blame, no what ifs. I fucked up. I made a mistake and it cost both of us everything. You are the victim of my actions, not the catalyst."

He saw you process those words and saw as they sunk in. "You were and are more than I will ever deserve. I want to spend my lifetime making up for it. Becoming a male you are proud of. I want to be the father I never got to have. I want to be the husband and mate you deserve. I know it will take time, and I do not expect your forgiveness today, but if you give me a chance, I will go to my grave worshipping the ground you two walk."

"Do you want to meet our son?" He broke at the question, feeling the bond opening back on your end. "This doesn't mean we're back together. It means we need to coparent for him while we work on things." He nodded rapidly, following you to the bassinet.

It felt like the world was coming full circle. You knew it would take time, that you two had many things to discuss first. This was a needed good start, though. Your pain eased slightly as you pulled back the curtains to the crib and whispered, "Azriel, this is Nox, your son."

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

**I have received some pretty nasty anon asks, some unconstructive comments, and a good amount of general negativity regarding this fic. If you are unhappy with the ending and want to know why I made the choices I made as the author, click #discussingherewithoutyou. Unconstructive comments will be receiving the same copy and paste answer from here forward.

My time and content are free. If you do not like them, scroll.

General Taglist:

@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium

Azriel Taglist:

@elle4404

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Jealousy, Jealousy... | Part 2

A/N: don't even have a summary for this. oc is in love with gyu and gyu is in love with another girl but both are virgin losers and gyu is a horndog who would let oc do what she wants to him just as long as he gets to cum.

Word count: 6.3

Genre: Smut, angst

Warnings: fem!reader, dry humping, degradation, dom!reader, sub!beomgyu, fleshlights, beomgyu being a perv and using oc's panties

You step into the apartment, hoping against hope that you won’t find Beomgyu in there. It’s been a few days since your fight, and you’ve been giving him the cold shoulder–ignoring his text messages, giving him one-word replies whenever he speaks to you, pretending you’re too busy to continue the marathon of whatever stupid show you were currently watching–and every time you do that, he’d look so heartbroken you have to fight for your life to not forgive him then and there. 

But fate hates you, or maybe it was by Beomgyu’s design, because as soon as you step into the living room, you see Beomgyu on the couch, fiddling with his guitar. He looks up when he hears you enter.  

You try to make a run for it, sight set on your bedroom door, but Beomgyu quickly springs up and calls your name. “Wait! I wanna talk to you.” 

“Well, I don't wanna talk to you.” You mutter, bee-lining towards your room, but Beomgyu is quicker. It only takes him a couple of large steps to put himself between you and your bedroom door. 

“Please!” He begs. “Just talk to me.” 

“I don’t want to talk right now.” You try to push past him but he won’t budge. 

“No, please, listen. I’m sorry for kissing you. I was just… I never got an A before. I didn’t think I could get an A. You know me. You know how everyone thinks that I’m so stupid. I know you think that I’m stupid. It just meant a lot to me. I was so excited to show you that I’m not always such a dumbass.” 

You sigh. "I know you're not a dumbass." 

“But I am. I’m such a dumbass and I’m so sorry for kissing you but please don’t leave me.” 

“Leave you?” You stare at him incredulously. “Beommie, I’m not going to leave you. What makes you think I would?”

“Well you haven’t been talking to me. I thought you were done with me.” He says glumly and you laugh. “No, silly. I was just giving you the silent treatment. Never heard of it?” 

"So we’re still friends?" He asks hopefully, tears in his eyes, looking like a kicked puppy. 

"Of course, we are. Don't be silly." You reach out to run a hand through his hair, and he happily leans into your touch. "Okay. Promise me we'll never stop being friends. I can't lose you."

You hesitate. This is why he can’t know you’re in love with him. It would ruin you. "I promise." . 

“Good.” He gives a big sigh of relief before he throws you a mischievous grin. “Are you going to come see me practice for the big gig today? I need my groupie.”

You smack his shoulder. “I’m not your groupie.” 

“You can be. Maybe we can sneak off and mess around backstage.” He pulls you by the hips and rests his forehead against yours but doesn't attempt to kiss you. 

"Beommie… I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why?” He whines like a brat, “I won’t try to kiss you again, I promise. I'll be your good boy." 

God, the things those simple words do to you. You could never have imagined the man you’ve thirsted after for years acting so needy for you, but you can’t let this go on any longer. It fucking killed you to have him kiss you, knowing it didn’t mean the same to him as it did to you. If you keep this up, you’ll only open yourself up for more hurt. You have to protect yourself. 

"I just don't want us to get mad at each other again."

"We won't." He tries to reassure you, but you put a hand to his chest and push him away. "No, gyu. It was fun but we can’t do this anymore.” 

He grabs your hand in his and brings it to his lips to press a kiss against your palm, making your heart flutter. "Then what's going to motivate me to do good?"

"Ice cream?" You suggest, taking your hand away, and he groans. “What’s rock and roll about that?” 

You snort. “Your band name is tomorrow by together. There is nothing rock and roll about you guys.”

“Okay, ouch. Groupie invitation revoked.” 

__________________

Watching Beomgyu play his guitar is like watching magic happen. Even when he messes up or is struggling–the way he’s just so immersed and serious about his craft is so inspiring and you feel so lucky to be able to witness it. 

It was a moment like this–seeing him so lost in the music–when you first realized you’re in love with him. And now, a few years later, that love has only grown stronger. 

“He really is an idiot.” You hear a familiar voice next to you and look to the side to see Yeonjun also looking at Beomgyu. 

“What do you mean?” 

“If I had a girl look at me the way you’re looking at him, I would never let her go.” He says so casually as if he hadn’t just exposed your entire guts out to the world. 

“What–-why would you–I–” You sputter, getting even more flustered at the amused look on his face. Damn him. You take a moment to recollect yourself. “Don’t be silly, Yeonjun. We’re just friends.” 

“Are you? Then how come you won’t go out with me?”

You roll your eyes. “Have you ever considered that you just might not be my type?” 

He raises an eyebrow at you, looking at you like he doesn’t believe it for a second. “Oh, please, I’m everyone’s type. What, you don’t like tall, handsome men? Lead singers? Really talented lovers?”

You suppress the blush his last comment intended to entice in you. “I already told you. I can’t go out with a guy who will flirt more with his fans than me.” 

“Aw, are you jealous, baby? You know I can clean my act up for you.” He moves to get closer to you, his hand reaching out to wrap around you, when suddenly Beomgyu steps in between you two. “Leave her alone, Yeonjun.”

“Why? She likes it.” Yeonjun grins, sending you a wink, and you stick your tongue out at him, making him laugh. Yeonjun tries to reach out to mess up your hair in revenge, but Beomgyu intercepts him. 

“No, she doesn’t. Now, leave.” 

“Alright. Alright. Chill. I’ll leave for now but if you’re not gonna snatch her up then don’t blame me for trying.” He sends you a wink, making you blush. “See you later, doll.” 

You bite your lip, staring at the ground to try to get your blush under control. You don’t like Yeonjun like that. Well, at least not near as much as you like Beomgyu, but you still can’t help the effect he has on you. He’s just so charming, and if you hadn’t been so absolutely in love with Beomgyu, you would’ve definitely been under him long ago. 

“You really shouldn’t encourage him.” Beomgyu says irritably, “You know he’s a manwhore.”

You shrug. “I know but it’s still nice to have a man’s attention.”

“Hey, you have my attention.” He protests, and you stay silent, giving him a cryptic look. 

“What?” He narrows his eyes at you, and you shake your head, dispelling any stupid thoughts of confessing your undying love for him. “Nothing. It’s just not the same. You’re my best friend. He could be something more.” 

“Oh.” Beomgyu steps back, frowning. “Um…okay. I understand that, but do you really need it from Yeonjun? I just… he’s my bandmate, you know?”

“I know.” You say, even though you really don’t. Why should that matter? “But he’s sweet and charming–”

Beomgyu groans, cutting you off. “Please. Anyone but Yeonjun.” 

“Beomgyu—”

“Please.” 

You roll your eyes. “Fine.”

You don’t know why it matters so much to him but you honestly don’t care. It’s not like you have your eyes on Yeonjun or anyone else but Beomgyu. You’re hopeless anyway. 

__________________

You and Beomgyu have easily settled back into your old routine, pre-hooking up. Like right now,  you’re cuddled up on his bed watching a movie as if nothing had ever happened–as if you’ve never touched him–as if just the feeling of his body wrapped around yours isn’t scorching your skin. 

“I can’t believe we’re watching this stupid movie again.” You groan, shoveling popcorn into your mouth. 

“Hey! I’ll have you know that Top Gun is one of the greatest pieces of cinema ever made.” He defends his favorite movie fiercely. 

“The greatest bore ever made you mean.” You grumble and he kicks your leg. “Shut up. I don’t insult your stupid horror movies when you make me watch them.” 

“You just did!” You retort, and he scoffs. “Well they’re stupid.” 

“Whatever. We’re watching The Shining after this.” 

“No we’re not!” He protests heatedly, and you answer back just as passionately. “Why not? We agreed we would watch one movie horribly picked by you, and another very superiorly picked by me.” 

He looks down at his hands, mumbling quietly. “You know those twins freak me out. I won’t be able to sleep for a week if we watch that.” 

“Aw, Beommie.” You coo, propping a finger under his chin to make him look up at you. “Well tough luck, wuss. We’re watching it.” 

“I hate you.” He whines, burying his face into your neck. 

Yup, all back to normal. You don’t want to cry because just the light brush of his breath against your skin sends your nervous system into overdrive. Nope. You’re all good. Just two friends watching a terrible movie. 

_______________________________

For a guy who just said he’s so afraid of The Shining, he won’t be able to sleep, he sure is sleeping very soundly right now. 

You glare down at him. He made you sit all through that stupid movie and he’s knocked out half-way through yours. You’d wake him up and give him a severe talking to if you weren’t so incredibly, wonderfully comfortable right now. You feel so warm and toasty with his long body wrapped around you like this, and the view you have–his face resting against your chest so close you can count his eyelashes… it was heaven for you. You suppose you’ll let him sleep for a bit more. 

Maybe you should get some shut-eye too. You’ve been so tired staying up all night studying for the test you took earlier this morning that you can’t help dozing off yourself, his embrace more comfortable than a bed of clouds to you. 

You were feeling so fucking peaceful, the weight of sleep helping to push down all your negative feelings that you don’t even pay much attention to Beomgyu’s repeated movements at first, just chalking them up to him shifting around to try to get comfortable like you. 

Sure, it was taking longer than was reasonable and he was pressing himself closer and closer to you each time, but it’s not like you were going to complain. The closer to Beomgyu, the better, right? It’s only when you feel something hard pushing up against your thigh that you realize what exactly is happening. 

"Beommie, what are you doing?" You mutter sleepily. 

He goes rigid and it takes him a while to respond. "...nothing."

You would have let it go if you didn’t still feel his hard cock against you. “Oh, really?” You challenge, moving your thigh up against him, ripping a deep groan from his throat. “Then what is this?” 

“Okay, okay, I really missed you.” He groans, wrapping his entire body around you. “And you just felt too good against me.” 

You scoff. “Have you no self control?” You ask even as you move your thigh against his cock. 

“No.” He admits, full on humping you. “Just need you.” 

“Beomgyu…” You pretend to hesitate, not wanting to let him off the hook quite so easily, not wanting him to see how much you need him too.

“Please, baby.” He begs, voice even deeper with sleep and all husky. That was your undoing. 

“Fine. You can keep going, fuck me.” You ‘finally’ relent, but the spoiled brat isn’t content with that. He tries to pull your shorts down. “Can I actually fuck you?” 

“No! I meant you can fuck my thigh.” You clarify, silencing his emerging protests with your finger in his mouth. “It’s bad enough that I’m letting you hump me like a rabid dog. You don’t get more.” 

“But this is so humiliating.” He whines through your finger before burying his face against your shoulder as he continues to vigorously dry hump you, miming fucking you the best he can. 

"I've seen you hump your body pillow before– More times than I would have liked– This is an upgrade for you, you pervert."

"You're so mean." He whines again and you snort. "I'm helping get your virgin ass off. How am I mean?"

“You’re just so mean.” He cries, grinding fervently against you. 

“And you’ve gone brain-dead again.” You laugh, “Come on, baby. Just focus on getting off. You’re almost there aren’t you?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Then come on. I want to feel you cumming against my thigh. It would be really fucking sexy.” You drawl, pulling his head back so he can look at you. 

“Y-yeah?” 

“Yeah.” You trace a finger over his perfect lips, resisting the urge to kiss them. Fuck, now that you’ve had a taste, it’s like you’ve developed a craving to them. This is why you should have never let him kiss you. “You’re so pretty, wanna see you lose control.” 

“Okay–okay… if you want it.” He stares at you deeply, and you nod.  

“I really do.” You murmur, “Want you to cum all over yourself for me.” 

“You’re so fucking dirty.” He growls, pushing your legs open and pressing himself between your them so he’s humping your pussy instead of your thigh. 

“Hey! Bad boy!” You screech, stuttering when his cock brushes against your clit. Your hand goes out to grab him by the hair. “Bad b-boy.” 

“Please, please, don’t make me let go.” He pants, his hips driving into yours roughly. “I’m almost there. Gonna cum for you, pretty.” 

You hesitate at the nickname, loosening your grip. 

"No, pull my hair harder. I like it when you’re rough with me."

"Now who's the dirty one?" 

"I can't help it." He sucks in a sharp breath, "You drive me crazy." 

Well, that makes two of you.

"Fuck, Beommie." You gasp, pulling on his hair and making him lose it. The way his cock is grinding against your clit making you reach the edge yourself. If he keeps this up, you might actually…

"Oh god, yes, yes, fuck!' He shudders and can tell by the warmth soaking his pants and the way he presses his hips snug against yours that he had orgasmed. 

Oh well, so much for that. 

"Did… did you cum?" He asks once he had caught his breath a bit. 

"No." You admit awkwardly, a little breathless yourself, and he looks disappointed. "It's okay, I'll take care of it."

"But I wanna do it." He whines. “Let me.” 

"No, Beomgyu." You refuse to let him feel how wet you are right now. He can’t know how much you want him. You can’t let him touch you because if he did, you don’t know if you would ever get enough.

"Why not?” He huffs, annoyed. “Why don't you want me to touch you? Do you find me so repulsive?"

"Don't be ridiculous.” You grit out. How very Beomgyu to be this oblivious. “You’re very handsome.” 

"You clearly don't think so. Otherwise you wouldn't freak out every time I try to touch you." He snaps, “Listen, I know I’m no Yeonjun, but you don’t have to make me feel so hideous.” 

“This has nothing to do with Yeonjun or you, you ass.” You lie through your teeth. "I'm just not ready to let anyone touch me yet, okay? Unlike you I’m not just looking to get my rocks off. This actually means something to me.”

“So it’s okay to meaninglessly get someone off but it’s not okay to let them get you off too?” He calls you out on your flawed logic.

“Yes.” You double down anyway, and he opens his mouth to argue but you beat him to it, realizing you need to end this discussion before you say something stupid. “See? This is exactly why I didn’t want us to hook up again. Maybe we should–”

“No, no! Fine, I’ll back off.” He puts his hands up in the air, literally backing off. “I won’t try to touch you or kiss you or do anything to you anymore. Only you can do what you want.”

“Beomgyu–”

“Please! I really don’t want this to end. It feels good being with you.” He pleads. God, he has no idea what he’s doing to you. It’s unfair that he has this much effect on you and he doesn’t even know it. 

You really shouldn’t say yes. This is only going to end in disaster, if you say yes. 

“Fine.” 

____________

“I can’t do this. I can’t. I’m just going to go home.” Beomgyu exclaims, freaking out in his small dressing room. He and his band have been invited to play at one of the most popular spots in town. It’s a huge opportunity for them, and so naturally it comes with a great deal of pressure, which Beomgyu is definitely feeling. 

“No! You can’t!” You intercept him, holding onto him tightly so he won’t escape. “You’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this for years! You can’t just go.” 

“But I am freaking out. I am going to make a fool of myself if I go on that stage. I know I will.” He cries, looking at you with pure panic in his eyes that is actually contagious. But you fight to keep in control of yourself. You have to be the rational one for him. 

“You are going to do great–”

“You don’t know that. They will hate me. They’re boo me. Oh, god, they’re going to throw things at me. I have to go. I have to–” 

You grab his face and kiss him, shutting him up, and even though this time you’re prepared for the kiss, the feel of his lips still takes you off guard. There is nothing in the world that could prepare you for the electricity you feel whenever your lips touch, and this time when you hold onto him, it’s to keep yourself from falling to the ground.

“You won’t.” You tell him once you bring yourself to pull away from the kiss. Or once you run out of oxygen that is. “You’re the most talented musician I know. I know you’re freaking out right now but once you’re out there, you’re going to put on the greatest show those people have ever seen. I know you will, because you’re that good!” 

“You kissed me.” He mumbles, confused. 

“Well, you wouldn’t shut up.” You mutter nervously. 

“Right.” He clears his throat, and it’s silent for a few seconds before he looks at you shyly. “You really think I’m the most talented musician, you know?” 

“I know you are.” You say truthfully. 

“Even more than Yeonjun?” He asks and you roll your eyes. “Even more than Yeonjun.”

He grins widely, triumphant. “Okay. I will go out there and show those fuckers how it’s done.” He says confidently, taking a step towards the stage before he quickly doubles back. “But before I go… another kiss for good luck?”

Oh god, you’re being put through hell and you have no one to blame but yourself. 

“Don’t get used to this.” You roll your eyes, pulling him into another kiss. 

_________________

Beomgyu does amazing. Maybe it’s the stage lights, maybe it’s the sway of the music, maybe it’s the energy of the crowd, maybe it’s how happy he looks up there–but you’ve never been so in love with him. And so proud, and so amazed, and so bewitched. 

And it seems everyone around you thinks the same. The crowd absolutely went wild for him and his band. They cheered loudly after every song. They hooted and clapped whenever one of the boys interacted with them. They enthusiastically answered their questions and followed their requests. It all went so well, you just know this gig has secured them many more in the future, and you like to think that you helped in your own way, by keeping the lead guitarist from running away before the concert. 

Said guitarist grabs you and hauls you off the ground in a suffocating hug as soon as he sees you backstage. “Did you see that? Did you hear how loudly they cheered for us?” 

“So loudly I think one of my eardrums has ruptured actually.” You laugh, making a show of pulling at your ear. “You guys did so amazing, Beommie! The band absolutely blew everyone away!”

“Who cares about the band? I rocked!” He shakes you excitedly. 

“Yes, you did.” You easily give in to him fishing for compliments. He deserves it. “You were the star of the show. I heard so many people around me–”

“Oh my god.” Beomgyu gasps, staring at something behind you. 

“What?”

“It’s Haeun.”

You look back to see the devil herself. “Oh.” 

“Beommie!” She greets him enthusiastically, coming over. Beommie? That’s your nickname for him. You’re the only one who calls him that!

“You did really well.” She enthuses, making him puff his chest out like a goddamn rooster. “Y-you l-liked it?” 

“Of course, I did. I always knew you’re so talented.” 

You can’t help the snort that escapes you, and they both look at you, Beomgyu mortified and Haeun unimpressed. “Sorry, something was stuck in my throat.” You mutter, wishing the ground would swallow you up right about now.  

“Anyways,” She rolls her eyes at you then pins him with a flirty look so thick you think you could actually suffocate on it “What I was saying is that you looked really good up there.”

He gulps, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She coos, stepping closer to him and running her hand down his arm through his sleeveless shirt until she reaches his hand and pulls it up, playing with his fingers. “You really know how to finger those strings, huh? I wonder if the guitar is the only thing you can play?”

Once again, you can’t keep in the noise of disgust that came from deep within you, but this time neither Beomgyu nor her pay any attention to you. 

“Uh—well—I–” He stutters dumbly. Typical.

“Why don’t you and the band come to the party I am hosting Friday? Maybe you can show me those moves up close?” She winks at him. 

“Hell y-yeah. I’ll be there.” He chokes out and she smiles widely. “Great. See you then.” She leans in to press a kiss to his cheek and you almost reach out to scratch her eyes out but you contain yourself. 

She gives you one last snobby look before throwing her hair back and walking off. Beomgyu stares after her, dazed. "Am I crazy or did she just flirt with me?" 

“Come on, Beomgyu, apes are more subtle than her.” You grumble, the fire of jealousy consuming your insides. “Anyways, you know she’s only doing this because you’re becoming successful, right? She always treated you as a loser before, never giving you the time of day, but now suddenly that you gain a shred of popularity, she starts liking you?" 

"Oh." He pauses for a second, and you reach out to pat his back, wishing to comfort him, when he breaks into a huge grin. “So what you’re saying is that I’m popular and she likes me? Awesome!” 

“Ugh.” You storm away, followed behind by a confused Beomgyu.

________________

“Since I did really well today, don’t I deserve a reward?” Beomgyu grabs you as soon as you’re back at your apartment, pulling you flush against him and trying to kiss you.

Now, you would have loved to give in. That kiss you shared earlier still tingles at your lips, but not after what he did. The nerve of him after slobbering all over another woman in front of you!

“Wait until the party, maybe she’ll give you your reward.” You push him away, disgusted at the thought of it. But Beomgyu continues proving to you why he easily wins the title of least aware person in the entire universe. “But I want my reward now.” 

“God, Beomgyu, you really know how to turn a girl on.” You growl, shoving him out of your way. “Go to sleep.” 

"What's your problem?" You hear him ask before you slam the door shut. 

You rip your clothes off–band merch you wore to support the idiot–and put on a long shirt. Which as soon as you settle under the covers, you discover actually belongs to him, his scent all over it and drowning you in unwanted feelings. 

You don’t care that she came on to him. You don’t care that she invited him to her party. You don’t care that he’ll probably go and she’ll make a move on him and he’ll fall deeper in love with her and she’ll have him all wrapped around her finger and–

Okay, you care. You care too much. You can’t handle the thought of it any longer, but you can’t reveal your real feelings. It will be the end of you. No, you have to bottle it all down. 

‘You can’t let it show.’ You think to yourself as you curl into a ball, shutting out the outside world and even your own memories, trying to just be claimed by sleep. 

But the world isn’t that fair, and through your curled form you can hear the sound of Beomgyu moaning out. You can’t quite hear what he’s saying but you’ve heard him enough times to know exactly what he’s doing. 

You bet he’s thinking of her. You bet he’s imagining fingering her. You can’t allow that. Not while you’re lying here breaking over him.

You throw the covers off you and storm to his room, bursting the door open. 

“Hey!” He cries out, trying to cover his junk. 

You roll your eyes. “It’s just me. No need to freak out.” 

“What are you doing here?”

“I heard you from my room.” You say plainly. “You weren't exactly subtle. Now let me see.”

“But I thought you–”

“Do you want it or not?”

He only hesitates for a second, the whore, before he throws the blanket away.  You roll your eyes, getting onto the bed and grabbing his dick, pumping it in your hand. He immediately flops back, relaxing into your touch. “Oh god, I needed this.”

"Yeah? Got all horny from the way everyone was eyeing you up? You know you really gave Yeonjun a run for his money with how slutty you were acting." You mutter bitterly. Yes, you enjoyed the show, but it wasn’t only Haeun eyeing him up. 

Beomgyu glares at you. "Can we not talk about him while you're fisting my cock?" 

“Whatever.” You brush him off, focused on something else right now. "So, thinking of fucking any of your new fans?"

“Hmmm.” He mumbles, and you can see from the way his eyes have gone all glazed that he’s not paying attention. “You. I really wanna fuck you.” He thrusts into your hand, whining. 

"You wish." 

"I really do." He breathes out, and your own breath stutters. Man, this is dangerous but you can’t stop. You speed up your movement, making Beomgyu wince. 

“Wait, dry, dry, hurts.” Beomgyu whines at the chafing feeling, and you almost feel bad for him if it weren’t for his next words. “Why don’t you put it in your mouth to get it wet?” 

You snort, seeing right through him. “You’re not slick, gyu.”

“But it really is dry.” He pouts, making a show of expressing his pain as you continue to jerk him off, and you sigh, removing your hand. “Where is your lube?” 

“In your mouth.” He replies like a smartass and you pin him down with a glare. “I can always stop, you know?”

“Okay, okay, it’s in the drawer.” He gives up, pointing to his bedside cabinet, and you quickly look away from his adorable pout, knowing if you look at it too long you’d just give him everything he wants. 

“What the fuck is this?” You pause in your tracks once you open up the drawer.

“What?” He asks, a confused look on his face that quickly turns to horror once he sees what you’ve fished out of the drawer. 

You hold up a fleshlight and a pair of panties silently, waiting for him to explain. Panties that you know too well, your own fucking panties in fact. 

“I can explain.”

“Yes, please. Explain to me how you’re such a massive pervert who steals his best friend’s panties so he can jerk off with them.” 

“You’re not just my best friend.” He protests lamely and your stupid heart swells up against your best efforts, only for him to smash it to pieces again. “We mess around and you get me so horny, I can't help but imagine what you'd feel like. But I know you don't want that so I had to get creative."

Well, it’s still a compliment, right? He’s jerking off with your panties, not hers. Then again, you’re his roommate and he has easier access to your underwear. 

You throw the items at him. “Show me what you do with them.”

"But I don't wanna… I want you." He whimpers, leaning towards you and trying to kiss you. 

"Tough luck.” You hiss, pushing him away. “I want to see." 

He groans, grabbing the lube and squirting a generous amount onto the toy before pushing it in with his fingers… in and out, in and out. 

Okay, that bitch may have had a point about his fingers. 

"Get to it already." You snap, mouth dry. 

"I'm just getting it ready, sheesh." He mutters, finally lining the toy up with his cock before moving it down his length. 

"Oh…" He sighs, head falling back as the toy takes his cock. 

"Feels good?" You whisper, and he nods, pulling the toy off with a wet sound, taking a second to catch his breath before pushing it down again. 

"God, you're pathetic." You mutter, more to yourself than to him. You're so fucking turned on right now, you’re sure you’re more wet than that fucking toy. "Fucking a plastic pussy because you can't get laid?"

"You wanna volunteer to f-fuck me instead?" He grits out but it sounds more like a moan with how much he's struggling to not succumb to the pleasure. 

“Is that what you think about when you're fucking yourself?" You ask and he hesitates, the toy slipping off his cock. 

God, his cock looked so good–so hard and glistening and thick. You wanna throw that stupid toy away and take him instead… but you can't. So you grab the hand he has holding the toy and make him move it to his cock again. 

He gasps as you push it back down. “Ah…y-yeah. Think about fucking you all the time.” 

It takes everything in you not to put your hand between your legs and rub yourself off right now. “And what do you do with the panties?” 

He freezes, a deep blush dusting his cheeks. “I don’t wanna say.” 

Now that just makes you want to know all the more. “You know I can always leave?” You threaten and he groans, his hips bucking into the toy. “Stop saying that. It’s not fair.” 

“Show me.” You insist and he whimpers, not looking at you as he grabs the panties with his free hand and pulls them towards his face, taking a whiff off them. 

“Oh my god, you freak.” You gasp, your thighs pressing together at the obscene sight. 

“No, please–”

“I didn't say you could stop.” You snap when he drops his hand and stops fucking his fleshlight. 

He whimpers, bringing the cloth back to his face, his tongue peeking out to lick against the fabric. 

“Fuck, you’re disgusting.” 

He whines again, shaking his head. “Just wanna taste you.” 

You cock your head to the side curiously. “You wanna taste me?”

“Uh-huh.” He nods dumbly, his eyes almost rolling to the back of his head at the thought of it. Well, who are you to deny him something he wants this badly?

You put your hand down your shorts, nearly making him choke as he watches you rub your soaking pussy a little bit to coat your fingers before bringing them out and holding them for him to see. You spread your fingers apart, showing him the strings of arousal between them. “You want this?” 

He drops the panties and sticks his tongue out like a dog begging for a treat, his hips never ceasing their rutting into his toy, the sticky sound of his cock pushing in and out ringing against your ears.  “Please…please…” 

“Okay, quit drooling.” You mutter in disgust at the saliva falling onto the sheets below, and move your hand towards him. As soon as your fingers are within reach, he takes them fully into his touch, moaning out at the taste. 

He sucks them off, his tongue licking up any juices in between your fingers until there is none left. Then he pants, “More…sit on my face.” 

You pull your hand away, your pussy quivering at the thought but you don’t let it show. “No way. You don’t deserve it.” 

“Why not? I’ve been good. Haven’t I been good?” 

‘Not when you’re thirsting over her.’ You think to yourself bitterly. 

“Please.” 

“I said no.” You shut him down, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have some fun of your own.  Finally giving into the temptation, you slip a hand into your shorts as you watch him continue to fuck his toy.

Beomgyu groans out loud. “Oh, come on. Now you’re just teasing me.” 

“How am I teasing you?” You grin, rubbing your clit as you watch him lose it over you. Yeah, this is why you continue to do this. This will be your undoing. 

“You know how much I wanna touch you. Just come on up and sit on my face.”

“No.” 

“Please. I can make you feel better than your fingers can. Just give me a chance.” 

“Oh please, you’re a virgin, Beomgyu. I know you have no experience. I’m better off fucking myself.” You laugh at him. 

“Yes, I do. Look at this.” He leans forward, pressing his fleshlight against the bed and fucking into it. 

“Is that how you imagine fucking me?” 

“Yeah–you always take it so well.” 

Fuck, he really knows how to get you going. 

You shake your head. “Well I’m not a plastic toy for you to hammer your dick into. I need to feel pleasure too.”

“Then teach me.” He cries out desperately. “You can make me do whatever you want. I won’t say no.” 

“Are you whoring yourself out to me?” 

“Yes. I’m your whore.” He agrees, his dick thrusting wildly into his toy, and you in turn pushing your fingers into yourself and matching his pace, pretending he’s fucking you. “Just please do something. I’m going to burst.” 

“But I want you to burst, baby.” You lean closer to him, brushing your nose against his. “I like how pathetic you look cumming on yourself or in a pocket pussy. You’re such a fucking loser.” 

He’s nearly gasping at this point. “Come on, please. Wouldn’t having my cock inside you feel so much better than your fingers? Just pin me down and use me the way you like. I don’t mind.” 

He’s driving you fucking crazy. You’re one second away from breaking. And maybe you would have, if he hadn’t kept talking. 

“Just need to feel a real pussy.” 

How does he always do this? He always ruins it for himself, always reminds you that you’re just a pair of tits and a warm pussy for him. Not who he really wants, just what’s available. 

You sigh heavily, taking your fingers away from your pussy. “I’m getting bored. If you don’t blow your load now, then you can do it by yourself.” 

“No, no. I can do it. I’m a good boy.”

“Yeah? Are you a good, pretty slut who cums on command?” You mock him, but he doesn’t care. He wants it too bad. 

“Yeah. Just–just give me a kiss.” He pleads, and seeing your face, he quickly adds. “Just a kiss and I’ll empty my balls out for you.” 

Well, it’s not like this would be the most egregious mistake you’ve ever made. You’ve already kissed him. Might as well get this over with and go back to your bed so you can wallow in how you’re nothing but a warm body to him. 

“Fine.” You press your lips against his and he immediately opens his mouth, his tongue licking your lips, trying to push inside. You let him, wrapping your lips around his tongue and sucking on it before brushing against it with your own tongue. Meanwhile, you sneak your hand between you, taking control of the fleshlight and pumping it rapidly over his sensitive cock, not even giving him a chance.

“Do it then. Now.” You demand, your lips still connected together with a thick string of saliva. “Oh god, oh my god, cumming, cumming baby.” 

He kisses you again, muffling the noises of his climax against your mouth, and you take every bit of it like you can never get enough. 

But eventually he pulls back, his high over and not needing you anymore. 

“God, that was crazy.” He says at last. 

“Yeah. Learned a lot about you and what you like to do behind closed doors.” You mutter, and his eyes widen. 

“Listen, it’s not–”

“It’s not what I think, I know. You’re just a pervert who needed some help getting off. I get it. But next time you take one of my panties, I’m breaking your arms.” 

____________________________

A/N: well I think there is one more chapter or at most two left of this series. kind of a short one. what are we thinking so far? always open to hear ideas. i just thought of an ending but i'd love to hear from you guys. maybe i'll be inspired

Taglist: @wonwooz1 @yaorzu-blog @allylikesdabee @rkivezzs @malieno @leviathanlee26 @yomomas-stuff @kurisaiyunobara @girlwholovekpop

this was just a provisional taglist as i don't usually do one. it's just a few people have specifically asked to be tagged so there you go

[letterlitter]

Blanket Warm

Lando Norris x F1 academy driver reader

Wordcount: 1k

Tags: fluff

•in which you become unwell after a racing accident and Lando is determined to take care of you.

"Two weeks off the track. Start physiotherapy on week two, then come back to see me. Hopefully you'll be back to racing in no time." The team's doctor smiled and handed you your prescription, along with a paper that said you had to rest and weren't in a condition to race.

Now you were at home all day, trying to keep yourself busy but there wasn't much to be done. Only if you'd been more careful during testing for the F1 academy. The crash wasn't that hard and it didn't ruin the car's livery much, but it sent it spinning several times to finally hit the wall, causing you to strain a neck muscle quite hard. You were okay during the check up, but how you tumbled around whith every step after getting out of bed the next morning scared you.

Lando, who had ran after you to keep you from falling, insisted to drive you to the doctor when the dizziness didn't get better after a couple of hours like you had said to convince him it's nothing. So there you were, having nowhere to go and nothing to do. Thankfully the F1 season hadn't started yet, so you and Lando had the house all to yourself after the briefing session he had to attend. Except, this was no regular holiday.

---****---

"No no, you need to sit down." Lando told you as he pulled you to the couch when he saw you stumbling while trying to make dinner. "I'll take care of things."

"Lando you can't cook" you smiled sarcastically, "I can do it."

Lando gave you a sassy side eye, "what did you say?"

"Well can you? Cook?"

He stood in a defeated silence and finally replied "okay I can't. But I can carry myself. I've got the internet and everything."

You sighed in disagreement.

"Come on babe. I am not letting you do anything. I may not be able to cook but no offence, you're not able to stand straight."

You bit the inside of your cheeks to hide your laughter.

"If you want to get better and go back soon, you have to listen to the doctor."

He waited and stared at you until you agreed. You couldn't resist those ocean blue puppy eyes anyway. And he was correct.

"Alright." You sighed, "but I will sit in the kitchen and tell you what to do."

"Oh no you won't." Lando stood up and pulled your arm to himself, threw it over his shoulder and lifted your body off the couch like firemen do; Making you squeak in surprise, "you're not doing anything but rest sweetheart. Let's get you to bed."

He finally put you on the bed, tucked you in, and you could tell moving you up the stairs was a little bit of a workout for his tiny, F1 driver arms. He didn't complain and you didn't either. It made your heart warm to see how he cared about your well being and the lengths he would go to to make sure you were alright. You were willing to do the same for him any day.

"Get some more sleep. I'll come and wake you up when everything's ready okay?"

Lando responded to your under breath "whatever you say" with a kiss on the forehead and left you to the silence of the room.

When you woke up two hours later, the smell of fried beef and cheese had came up all the way to your room. Surprisingly, it didn't smell as if something was burned or nasty.

Lando walked in all of a sudden with a big tray, pushing the door open with his back,

"Oh shit you're awake." He went right back out, making you laugh.

He came back empty handed and stood right next to your bed.

"Madam..." he helped you sit up eventhough you were capable of doing so yourself. Your head wasn't that dizzy but he still wanted to make sure everything is well.

Lando, who had wrapped a napkin around his waist stood infront of you like a waiter, "now that you are awake my dear lady, dinner will be served." He went back out and grabbed the tray he had left on the floor.

"I couldn't do a longer intro I was afraid it would get cold." And he put the tray on the bed beside you. He had made lasagna.

"Oh wow. Very well executed sir." You wanted to go along with the theme he started.

"Than you madam. Hopefully you'll like it. First..." he handed you the wet towel he had brought. He knew you hated eating before washing your hands and face after you wake up.

"Let's see." You lifted your fork and started slicing the piece.

"Hmmm, this is great Lando."

He smiled with satisfaction. You had never complimented him on his cooking before.

"It's a bit salty to be fair but how the hell did you do this?"

"My mom, a really long video call, many many dirty dishes and one broken one."

You smiled. It was the best you could ask for. Your boyfriend who cares for you, your house you could rest in, and so much comfort. Your life had been passing on such a fast track lately that you couldn't step back to appreciate the little things that were yours. This injury, how frustrating it was, had made you realize how grateful you are for the people who love you.

"What about you?" You said with you mouth half full.

"Oh I have tasted everything so many damn times I am completely full. No no really, that's all yours. My mom kept asking me to describe the taste for her like it's a competition."

You laughed "Well. I think you have won."

"I don't think you would say that if you saw what's going on downstairs."

---****---

The next 10 days went by really quickly. You were trying to get better and Lando was doing his best to keep your dizzy head entertained.

He would help you get dressed, tie your shoes, brush your hair and sit down on the couch to watch a movie with you. He would make you hot chocolate and give you your medication; and when the physiotherapy was due, he would message your neck gently like the doctor had taught him. He kept making you food and finally agreed to get some help from you when he almost burned down the kitchen.

And all he replied when you thanked him was "anything for my girl."

You finally reached full recovery a little sooner than two weeks. The doctor told you "everything seems in place. You must've had quite a good rest."

"I had a good care taker." You replied, looking at your boyfriend with a loving smile.

He really, really was one.

[lethalchiralium]

Will Never Be Enough | Simon “Ghost” Riley x Wife!Reader

a/n: i am so sorry, but i’m trying to make this series as realistic as possible so that would include natural things that happen. :( it wouldn’t be a lethalchiralium series if there wasn’t angst… also the 141 are ride or die for you and the kids. it’s just canon i have nothing else to say 🤷‍♀️

warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Mentions of blood, miscarriages, vague descriptions of panic attacks. Mentions of babies and children.

summary: "Simon, I need you." The Lieutenant dropped the papers he was holding, they flew across the office floor. "I'm on my way." OR, Simon comes home to find you in a puddle of blood.

PREVIOUS << | >> NEXT | SERIES MASTERLIST

It had been a couple weeks since the appointment, and he didn’t expect you to feel sick for this long after. It worried him, but you assured him that it was fine; you had been sick for a while with Mellie, that you would be better soon. He took your word for it and let you rest.

He had made Winnie her breakfast of strawberry pancakes and sat her in front of the television, he held Mellie against his chest. She was sated, little belly full of formula and snoring away on his shoulder. He had made you food and was waiting for you to come down to eat, but he wasn’t worried about when you did. He was satisfied knowing that you would have had something to eat, that he would hopefully beg Price nice enough to come home early. His one arm that held Mellie kept her snug against his chest, he was putting up plates in the cabinets from washing them the night before. He made the mental note to get more baby spoons because Mellie had no longer liked most of them.

“Dad! Done!” Winnie called from the coffee table, he looked over his shoulder to her. She was holding up her clean purple plate so he could see, strawberry stained the front of her face. He closed the cabinet and grabbed a tea towel, moving from the kitchen and into the living room. The chestnut haired girl bounced on her feet to meet him in the middle, he kneeled and gently wiped her face.

“Is Mama still sick?” Winnie moved her face away from the tea towel, but he still cleaned her face as she moved awkwardly to miss his massive hand.

“Yeah, duckling.” He nodded and stood, walking back into the kitchen while his small daughter followed. He tossed the tea towel onto the counter, making a note to put it in the laundry later, before moving towards the fridge. “You still hungry?” He opened it, glancing over the leftovers he had for you last night, beverages, and jars of baby food to look for those little oranges Winnie liked.

“Nuh-uh.”

He closed the fridge when he didn’t see them, glancing down to the baby in his arm before he looked to his oldest daughter. “Get your bag, love, gonna go check on Mum.”

The girl in pigtails her father had put in earlier bounced on her feet, disappearing back into the living room. Simon turned towards the counter across from the fridge, grabbing the plate of food with a fork on it before making his way upstairs.

Mellie’s little hand gripped onto his t-shirt when he nudged his bedroom door open, making his way to your side of the bed in the light that seeped through from the hallway. He quietly settled your plate of food on your nightstand before moving back out of the room, towards Mellie’s room. He opened the door and quickly moved towards her crib, peeling his little one from his chest before placing her delicately on her back on the small mattress. Her crib creaked when Simon leaned forwards to kiss her forehead, he was quick to move away and out her room - when the door closed, it was silent. He slipped back into his bedroom and to your side, he could see your silhouette in the middle of the bed underneath the plush duvet.

He leaned a knee onto the side of the bed, a hand settled on your cheek as he spoke, “Sweetheart.”

You grunted in annoyance. “Don’t wake me unless someone is dying or the house is on fire.”

Simon chuckled, petting your hair. “Put your food on your nightstand, I’m takin’ Wins to school soon.”

Your arms moved to stretch over your head as he leaned forwards, his lips meeting yours. A smile on your lips, your hands now found his chest to gently pull him off. “Baby, I’m still sick.”

“Don’t care.” He mumbled, pressing another kiss to your lips before his hands began to tug down the duvet. He moved himself down the bed, quickly tugging up his old t-shirt on you to press his lips to the small swell of your stomach, where that little baby was growing. His little baby, half of him and half of you. “Quit makin’ your mum sick, all she’s doin’ is lovin’ ya.”

With a final kiss to his unborn son, he moved back to place his lips on your forehead, feeling the skin a lot warmer than he had expected. He leaned back into his knees, nodding towards the food on the nightstand. “‘m takin’ Duckling to school, Mel’s asleep. You need to eat.”

You nodded, your hand reached for his and he instantly took it. He pressed his lips to your knuckles, you smiled at him.

“I won’t be long, tryin’ to get Price to let me off early.”

You shook your head, dismissing it. “I’ll be fine, baby. I’ll call you if I need you.”

He pressed a quick kiss to your lips, a promise that he would be home soon.

—

Ghost desperately wanted it to be a slow day, but no. Active drills and testing on soldiers, Laswell was in for a debrief this morning, and a mention of a new deployment soon. He wasn’t very happy about it, but he said nothing. He would discuss it with you when he got home.

He had papers in his hand as he marched down to Price’s office; sergeants and privates diving out of his way to avoid his so-called ‘wrath’. All it was was a stare or the occasional pin onto the wall, nothing serious. In his hands were training reports on seasoned soldiers, descriptions of how their skills have improved and all that bullshit.

The man was tired, all he wanted to do was go home and lay in his bed underneath the dog pile of his daughters and wife. Maybe eat a sandwich or go for a run, but he had to be on base. He didn’t even have the time to look at Price this morning, this report was his saving grace to go home and make sure you were okay. He was itching to leave right this moment, but you’d never tell from his mask.

He knocked on Price’s door, not even waiting for permission to enter before he swung open the door. He shut the door behind him, moving to stand in front of Price.

“Got the reports-“

Ghost’s phone rang in his pocket, papers in his clutch as Price‘s voice died in his throat. His captain gave him a nod, letting Simon fish his phone out. He saw your pretty face on his screen and pressed the phone to his ear, concerned why you were calling him at one in the afternoon. He was about to get Price to let him leave earlier so he could take care of you and the girls.

“Hi, are you okay?”

“Simon, Simon-“ Your sobs were loud. “I need you.”

He dropped the papers he had onto the floor of Price’s office and booked it. “Baby, hey, I’m on my way.” He said, shoving past privates and his friends, who called after him. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Ever-Everything, there’s- There’s so much blood- I think-“ A loud sob. “I think I’m losing the baby.”

He felt like throwing up.

His hand went to his pocket, ripping out his keys but dropping them onto the concrete. He didn’t even have the time to pick them up before someone else did, he looked up to see Price.

He couldn’t see how badly he was shaking, all he could do was listen to you say, “It hurts so much.” Price moved around to the other side of his car, getting into the driver’s seat while he got into the passenger seat. He felt the car move as the back doors opened, he knew it was Soap and Gaz. Price didn’t even wait for them to close their doors before he pressed the pedal to the metal.

“I’m comin’, baby. Hold on.” He answered. “Talk to me, sweet girl.”

“Please,” Your voice cracked, sobs followed after. “Simon.”

His hand was shaking so bad, he could feel it now. His brain shut off, he could only feel fear as it tore through his entire being like fire. He couldn’t lose you, he wouldn’t ever dare to - not when it took so long to find you.

The fifteen minute drive home was made in seven, flat. Simon was out of the car before Price even put it in park. He ran. He sprinted into the house, not caring that the front door slammed against the wall. He’d fix it later. He took the stairs three at a time, hearing his daughter crying in your en-suite bathroom. He frantically ran down the hall, opening the bedroom door. The light from the bathroom lit up the room, he didn’t stop running until he almost went face first into the door frame. He was breathing hard, eyes now fixated on you.

Blood stained the floor of the bathroom and the bottom of the shirt of his you were wearing. Mellie was sat in your arms, tears stained her cheeks as she cried loudly. Your face looked paler, tears dripping down onto the crown of your daughter’s head. Your face was contorted into one in pain, one hand on the small bump of your belly.

“LT!” He heard Soap call, he turned his head towards the doorway of his bedroom.

“Up here!”

He then came to your side, kneeling beside you as the rumble of boots against the hardwood stairs were loud, making Mellie cry harder. Your hand reached for him, gripping onto his uniform as his own hand settled on your cheek. He glanced down at the blood that pooled around your legs. “What happened?”

“I-I felt sick and-and I got up and- there was-“ Sobs kept falling from your mouth, chest trembling and making the eight month old screech. “I can’t-“ Your face went to your daughter, pressing a kiss to her head as she kept crying. “Mels, please, baby-“

He was quick to remove his hand from your face, taking his daughter in his grasp before turning towards the bedroom. Gaz and Soap stood in it, Price behind them, all of them gazing through the doorway. Every single one of his friends’ faces had concern written all over them.

“Gaz.”

The Sergeant immediately came forwards, taking the little one in his grasp and leaving the bathroom. Simon turned back to you, grabbing your other hand and squeezing. You tried to take a deep breath, but hiccuped harshly. “It hurts, Simon. It hurts, it hurts.“ Your eyes screwed shut, he felt your knuckles pop as you kept squeezing his hand.

“I know.” He murmured, moving one arm to go underneath your knees. Your body was shaking, he was shaking, he didn’t know how to stop it, he wanted to stop it.

Your voice was nothing but a whisper, body trembling as he picked you up. “My baby.”

“Simon, what’s happened?” Price spoke, he probably noticed the blood on the floor that had seeped through your underwear. Simon felt his skin grow cold when he felt the blood against his forearm, moving into the bedroom before grabbing a blanket from the chair next to the dresser. He did his best to cover you, Soap immediately came to his aid. He pulled the blanket up to your neck while Simon awkwardly wrapped you in the gray blanket.

As soon as Soap had moved away, Simon was gone. Down the steps, through the hallway while hearing his infant daughter screeching in the kitchen. He kept his eyes on you, your eyes screwed so tight and hollow sobs echoed from your lips.

He didn’t hear Price tell Soap to go get Winnie from school, he didn’t listen when Price told Gaz to stay with Mellie, that he was going with Simon.

It was like the world was in slow motion when he stepped down the front porch, but it zipped by when Price’s hand landed on his shoulder. Simon didn’t even turn to look at Price.

“She’s miscarrying.”

———

hi. simon is great dad and you can’t convince me otherwise, he’s the best husband he can be so part 2 will be soon i promise :(

———

Copyright © 2023 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.

[miracleonice87]

the camp letter

a/n: the requested note (which turned into more of a letter — I’m a writer, what did you expect?) written by Mrs. Kelce, from “new heights, new news, new baby.” enjoy!

___

“NHL tournament kicks off in my room in ten, big fella!” Isiah Pacheco called through the door after a few raps of his knuckle.

Travis smiled to himself, pushing his now-empty unpacked duffle into the dorm closet and clucking his tongue.

“You know I ain’t missin’ that, son!” Travis assured. “Be right there.”

As Isiah’s footsteps retreated down the hall, Travis grabbed the last piece of luggage on his bed, his toiletry kit, and walked it into the bathroom to hang up. Upon opening the flap, a piece of white notebook paper fell to the counter, folded so only the top of the page was visible.

Open when you get to camp! it read in your unmistakable penmanship. With an enamored grin, Travis quickly lifted and unfolded the page.

87,

the salutation read.

At that simple greeting, his throat tightened with emotion.

Oh boy… he was in for it.

He wandered to take a seat on the bed as he continued.

With another Super Bowl celebration summer coming to a close, another season is now on the horizon and it just might be the most special one yet.

I remember the first time you invited me to Chiefs camp when we had just started dating, watching all your teammates’ kids run to them after practice, watching them chase after footballs, watching their dads throw them up in the air and tote them around so proudly, and I remember thinking, “I hope that’s gonna be Travis someday with our own kids.” Sure, that happened just a little sooner than we planned, but with each day that passes, I only grow more excited to share this with you, and to make those football-centric memories with our little one, and hopefully more little ones to come.

I can’t wait to hold our baby in the stands and explain to them what you do for a living, Trav. I can’t wait to see how excited they get waiting for you on the sideline for a pregame kiss, then watching you ball out. I can’t wait to watch them meet you in the tunnel or the suite after a game, win or lose, and love on you like I do. I can’t wait to see them run around Arrowhead with Sterling and Bronze, and, as much as possible, take them to games with Wy, Ell, and Benny, watching them spend time together and clap for their daddies.

When I close my eyes, I can so vividly see another Super Bowl win, finding you in the midst of another red and gold confetti snowglobe, but this time, with our kid in my arms. I can envision you on the podium with Coach Reid and Patrick, a Lombardi in one arm and a baby in the other. And as much as I already miss you, despite you still being just a couple of rooms away as I write this, we both know that camp is the first step toward making that happen.

We are so lucky to get to do this at all, Trav, but I feel impossibly lucky to get to do this with you. Thank you for being the man that you are – I can’t tell you how much I admire your drive, your passion, your work ethic. You are the best teammate, captain, leader, friend, husband, brother, son, and daddy-to-be that I’ve ever known, and I know you’ll instill your best qualities in our little one.

I love you so fucking bad, Travis Michael. Have fun, be safe… go be great. See you soon.

XO

Silent tears were dripping down Travis’s cheeks and nose as he finished the letter, a fond smile permanent on his lips. God, he was the lucky one, to get to be able to play this silly game he loved so much with your full support backing him. And the thought of you and your baby cheering him on, together, in just a few more months… man, that made him actually giddy, despite the tears he was still trying to get under control.

A moment later, the only person who would ever push open the door to his room unannounced did just that — his quarterback and best friend entered with a casual “you comin’ to play Chel, you hockey freak?” before his eyes actually landed on Travis. Patrick was fearful for just a moment, seeing his friend so emotional, then the tight end met his gaze and held up the piece of notebook paper covered in your neat writing.

Travis cleared his throat and announced, “Letter from home. Got me.”

Patrick smiled, taking a few steps toward him to squeeze his shoulder.

“I gotchu,” he said understandingly. “All good, though?”

Travis nodded emphatically, beaming even as he wiped his watery eyes with the flesh of his thumb.

“So good,” he assured the fellow dad.

Patrick nodded, too, and pawed Travis’s arm affectionately.

“Glad to hear it. Take all the time you need, man,” he directed. “I’ll go take the first round with the hooligans.”

Travis giggled and reached to dap up Patrick, the quarterback giving him a warm hug.

“Thanks, brother,” he said softly.

As Patrick left the room, Travis gave the letter one last brief read, then pulled out his phone, screen lighting up to display his lock background — you from the back in an 87 jacket after this most recent Super Bowl, being hoisted in his arms the very moment you found each other on the field. Smirking proudly at the memory, he unlocked the phone and opened his text thread with you.

Just read your letter, you sneaky lil thing, he tapped. My god, you know how to make a 6’5” NFLer weep like a baby! Thank you for writing it, sweetness. I love you so much. Less than four days now until I hug you and baby Kelce again 😍🤰🏻 Tell Mama I said hi and I love her! Call you later 😘

With that, he hit send, took a deep breath, tucked the letter into an empty drawer for safekeeping, and headed toward Isiah’s room — which was already echoing with his teammates’ raucous cheers and jeers — all while wondering what the hell he ever did to deserve a life so damn sweet.

[justwonder113]

Showering Han with affection

Bang Chan; Lee Know; Changbin; Hyunjin; Felix; Seungmin; IN;

Summary: when the love of your life comes down with a fever and is bummed out you do everything in your power to cheer him up.

Warnings: genders neutral reader, Han has a fever, Whipped reader as always, Han is feeling anxious and reader tries to comfort him. Fluffy ending bit angsty in the start. Loads of hugs and kisses I can't help myself. Please tell me if I missed anything Word count-2.1k

A/N- I wanted to say thank you for all the support, reblogs, notes, your comments everything! They literally make my whole day! I kept giggling in the subway like a lunatic the other day. I cannot describe how much it means to me that you like what I write. Thank you so much🩷🩷🩷

It was one of those days where everything seemed normal and fine but you couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong. Like you were chilling by yourself but it felt like something unknown loomed over you, something like sixth sense was tingling and bothering you. Like... there was no explanation for you to feel this off. Were you forgetting something? But you had everything listed and checked out, you even double checked it! You wondered what was up...

You sighed and started searching for your keys, which was prooved to be little hard when you had your hands full with groceries. Normally you went shopping with your boyfriend, but these days he seemed to be a little overwhelmed and you didn't want to stress him more on meaningless stuff. Also, you didn't have to buy so much stuff, you were only out to buy few of the nescesities, you just couldn't help yourself when you saw that your favorite bakery had Han's favorite cheescake on display in the window. So you bought it and couple of more snacks , which you knew he would appreciate. 

You finally fished out the keys and walked into your shared apartment. You wondered when Han would get home, hopefully, his schedule wasn't as packed today. You really wished he could get some chance to rest for a while.

You almost dropped everything and screamed when you noticed dark figure on your sofa. You calmed when you recognized the black hoodie of your boyfriend with the text on the back. It was the one you had gifted him on your anniversary, custom made and everything. He was dressed in all blacks no wonder it almost gave you a heart attack, he was blended into the darkness of the room. Was he asleep? How was he breathing laying face down like that?

"Baby?" You called out his name, but no answer. You got closer and examined him, he was dead asleep. Your heart ached, he was so tired he must've immediately fallen asleep. He didn't even go to your bedroom and just slept on this uncomfortable as hell sofa. The sofa wasn't the best when it was new, you still had no idea why you bought it, but now, it was in such a bad shape it felt like laying on bricks. You had to wake him up, who knew ho long he was aleep like this, he woud be all sore.

You gently placed a soft kiss on his squished up cheek, your eyebrows furrowed. Why was his skin so warm? To confirm your suspictions you sofly kissed his forehead, and, unfortunately, you were proved right. He was warm. He surely had a fever. You started inspecting him more, his skin felt damp, his breathing was shallow and rugged and he looked really uncomfortable, Why didn't he call you? You were doing nothing meaningful today, the least you could do was to take care of him.

"Jisung baby?" You tried to soothe him out of his slumber, your hand softly rubbed his waist, soon enough he did stir, he was staring to wake up, you decided to call some more "Sunshine wake up for me" you started littering kisses on his cheek while telling him to wake up between kisses. It worked, because now he was watching you, half dazed, but you noticed how the corners of his lips lifted up when he saw you. "Hey baby..." His voicse was raspy, it immediately sent shivers down your spine, and your heart did a flip when his hand brought the back of your hand and softly kissed it.

"How are you sweetie?" You decided to ask with a soft voice as he rubbed his eyes. Jisung looked at you for a second and then just shrugged his shoulders."I'm fine, just sleepy." You couldn't help but sigh, "tell me the truth Ji, you're clearly not feeling well." You were being a bit harsh, yes, but he didn't really expect you to believe him just like that did he? The first thing he did when he woke up was to squint his eyes and froqn as if he was in pain before noticing you and giving you a convincing smile. He was clearly pale, his cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were bloodshot, he couldn't see himself but you had eyes for god's sake! You tried to approach him more softly so you lowered your voise "What's wrong love, please tell me, I'm worried..." Han looked at you for a second then just sighed and layed on his bed, his eyes closed, not enjoying harsh light.

"I wasn't feeling well since I woke up, but I thought nothing about it and decided to go to studio, I had some ideas and I wanted to try and incorporate it into the new song I'm working on. I spent most of my day working on it, after that we had dance practice..." You carefully listened, while softly patting his stomach, his hands were busy playing with the fingers of your other hand, you noticed quickly into your relationship that he loved to do so whenever he was feeling stressed. "I noticed I had some trouble with the choreo, but I thought it was because my muscules were sore from yesterdays workout. Minho noticed it and told us we could take five. I was chilling on the sofa when Felix approached me and hugged me, but like the second he touched me he immediately jumped up and bought Chan. In second everyone was around me, Chan kept worrying like a mother hen saying I'm burning up and stuff, then he got all stern and told me that he was bringing me home. He and Minho brought me here actually. The others also took day off, Chan said that we were overworked and needed a day off, Minho also agreed he said that schedule did allow it and we had plenty of time. So we got here, Minho even cooked and made me eat some soup. Chan also kept pestering me if there was something I needed help with, it got so overwhelming that I told them that I had just texted you and that you were over the block. Minho got the clue and so they left. Honesly I just wanted to be alone for a while, I guess I must've fallen asleep." Your heart ached as you listened to him talk.

"Why did you isolate yourself baby? What's up, please talk with me?" You tried to coax him into talking, he took a few deep breaths before he could look at you, and the second your eyes met his resolve broke and his eyes started watering up. You immediately got everything you needed to know so you layed nex to him and held him as tight as you could, letting him let go of his feelings. "It's okay my love, I'm here I've got you"- you kept muttering over and over as he cried his heart out, his each sob killing a part of you. You also kept pressing kisses against his temple to let him know you were here for him both physically and emotionally, -"You did nothing wrong, everything's fine, you'll be back in shape in no time! We just need to take care of you first. My precious baby always works so hard. You need to take a break sometimes my love, your body can't handle all that pressure. We will get you in shape in no time though, don't you worry!" You helt his face gently and made him look at you, your heart squeezed when you saw his tearful face. "I'm proud of you! You're doing absolutely amazing job! I'm beyond proud! I'm the luckiest person to have you in my life you hear me? Words can not express how much I love and adore you Ji, don't you ever forget that!" Jisungs eyes watered up even more if that was even possible, but now he was smiling so it eased your worries, he also held you so tightly you would wake up with bruises tomorrow, both from the couch and his hold on you. You felt him nod against you which made you smile. "Promise?" he pressed a kiss on your collarbone, "Promise, I love you baby." You pressed a kiss on his crown and held him just as tight.

You laid here for a while, before you noticed that his shoulders had stopped shaking and he was starting to calm down. You mentally prepared yourself it was time to act! "Sungie baby..." You softly called his name to get his attention, and when he looked at you with pretty doe eyes you started to talk, "what do you think we bath together and then we cuddle in the bed? I also bought you your favorite snacks we can eat them together too,"-your hand crept into his hair and started playing with his locks, Han immediately leaned into the touch,-" but of course after we check your temperature and take appropriate meds. What do you say? We can cuddle all you want after that."

"Okay, sounds good." He leaned up and helped you stand up before standing up himself, he stumbled for a second but he quickly regained his composure. His hand never once left yours. He looked at you as you headed towards your bedroom, mischief evident in his eyes, "Baby, since our sofa is broken what do you think we buy new one?" You looked at him clearly unamused, already knowing what he had in mind. " Absolutely we should buy new one but not that Lightning McQueen one!" Jisung pouted at you, "you're no fun sometimes." He grumbled, you laughed and kissed his pout away, his lips immediately chased after you the second you leaned back which made you laugh. You told him that you would kiss him as much as he wanted when you were done with your tasklist.

You led him into the bathroom and helped him bathe, you were spooning him from the back while he basically melted against you, feeling so content and relaxed. You also massaged the knots out of his back and shoulders and he almost melted into a puddle from the pleasure. It also didn't help that you kept pressing kisses on his neck and shoulders.

You didn't stay long in the bath tho, you quickly gave him the warm fluffy clothes and quickly did your skincare so you could go and snuggle in the bed. You took his temperature, gave him his meds and also brought some hot tea and snacks you had bought. Jisung munched on them like a happy quokka he is.

After you put away everything you joined him under the sheets, some movie played in the back. Both of you snuggled against each other, Jisung's head layed on your chest absolutely loving cuddling you and feeling of you softly scratching his scalp. "Thank you for everything baby, I don't know what I would do without you." He searched for your hand and bought it to his lips to kiss. "I love you." His voice was soft and raspy, he would surely fall asleep any second now.

"I love you too." You leaned in and pressed a kiss on his lips. He leaned back looking at you with confused eyes, you raised your eyebrow, what was up? "Baby I can get you sick if you kiss me like that!" His comment made you chuckle, did he now realize that after you kissed him gazillion times over the night? God, you loved this dumbass. You leaned in and whispered against his lips before sealing them again "I don't give a damn."

Jisung melted into the kiss and tried to kiss you with as much passion if not more. The kiss was slow, passionate, it made you feel full, complete, it made you feel like you were on top of the world. Every drag of your lips against his soft ones ignited something in you. You sometimes wondered how you were before him? Not that you could remember it any more, it's just, this boy made you feel so alive, you could never imagine yourself without him, he was an extension of your soul, your being, he was your other half, your soulmate and you would do anything for him .

You leaned back to get some more, Jisung whined at the loss of the feeling, his cheeks looked more flushed up, his lips were rosy red, his breathing was shallow, his hair all disheveled in the most delicious way. God you adored this man. You couldn't help but connect your lips once again, and once you felt like you couldn't breathe again you moved and kissed every corner of his face, his neck, his collarbones that peaked from his shirt, his hands... Absolutely adoring both kissing him and his adorable reactions, his soft giggles and shy smiles, his proclamations of love proving you once again that you two were made for each other.

[gtsdreamer2]

The church of Dommon was always looking for new followers. No one knew how or when the demoness was summoned, only that when she manifested on the mortal plane, a religion was formed around her. Her worshippers granted her power, and, in return, she shared a portion of her power with each follower. Those she liked more, received special blessings. Her congregation met on Saturdays, and this was the chance for her followers to bask in the presence of their god, and to hopefully receive her favor.

"My children," The demonness started, "It has been many years since I have come to this realm. As you can see, all of your love, and devotion, and worship has made me grow into this deity of a demon." She gestured to her hulking form. The demon was about twenty-five feet in height and thick from constant feasts and her lazy status. Her dark red skin shined without a blemish and her huge pendulous breasts leaked constant milk. This sweet nectar was what her followers sought after. As she grew from the worship of her flock, so did the amount of milk that she could produce. and this milk caused the drinker to in turn grow, much like the demon herself. Those who partook of the creamy gift grew stronger and more demonlike. They were looked apon faborably in this new society as well, The bigger the better.

Aimee was by far Dommon's most devout follower. She had never missed a sermon and always recieved the "Devil's blessing". Today was no different. She sat up front, blocking the view of the three seats behind her with her height and width. As of this moment in time, she was now eighteen feet in height. She had small protrusions on her back, the beginning of wings, matching the nubs on her head that would soon be horns. Her skin had begun to shine and redden, mimicking the demoness from whom she fed.

"I don't know what it is that I have done to deserve all of this worship from you all, but as I have always stated, I am humbled by my followers and it is my duty as your deity to give back what I can. Come and feed from me! I feel exceptionally bountiful this evening!" First in line, as always, was Aimee. She approached Dommon and did the ceremonial bow. Dommon in turn presented her full chest. Diving right in, Aimee latched on and began to suckle, noticing right away that the supply she was receiving was far greater than it had been the week before. 'She must have gotten some new followers.' She thought to herself between the great gulps she was taking. 'I'm going to suck this demon dry again.' Meanwhile Dommon was lost in the pleasure of being suckled by her favorite follower, far too distracted to notice how much milk Aimee was taking in and what it was doing to her.

Aimee could feel her blood pumping as her muscles pulsed larger. 'Something is happening to me.' She thought, gaining two feet of height in the span of as many minutes. Dommon's followers watched with jealousy, not daring to interrupt the ritual. She began to suck harder, trying to get as much milk as she could before suddenly switching to the other engorged tit, eliciting a forced moan from the demoness.

"Mmmph, yes my child, feed till you're full. This is my gift to you." She said, more aroused at this point than thinking about the consequences of what was happening. With a fresh supply rushing down her throat, Aimee could feel the surge resurging and accelerating as she let out her own moan. Her skin darkened another couple shades as her top ripped off of her. At the same time her pants split. Twenty-one, Twenty-two, Twenty-four, Twenty-six. Her height kept increasing. The demon was still lost in pleasure as she was suddenly smaller than her follower. As soon as Aimee surpassed Dommon in height, there was a shift in the room.

"The little winglets protruding from Aimee's back suddenly sprouted. they flapped back and forth as Aimee flexed her back. Her horns grew from nubs to great pointed antlers, proudly on display. She let out another moan as she could feel all the eyes of Dommon's followers on her. No...That wasn't right. They weren't Dommon's followers. Not anymore. She could FEEL it. Their devotion. It was pouring into her like a great waterfall.

Only now did Dommon snap out of her ritualistic trance. She could feel the power fading from her. It was surrendering itself to her previous worshipper. Dommon suddenly shrunk five feet. "What's happening to me!?" She shouted, her breasts shrinking with her and no longer producing the blessing. Aimee unlatched now and let out a powerful laugh.

"You've been usurped, that's what!" Aimee had been twenty-seven feet just from her previous god's favor, but now, all the love and devotion and worship from her new congregation was fueling her further. She grew and grew and grew while Dommon shrunk. At forty feet, the twelve foot demoness looked positively puny beneath her. "Worship me!" Aimee roared, forcing Dommon between her legs to sevice her. The weakened demoness had no choice but to obey, licking and sucking and suffocating against the massive womanhood before her. Aimee grinded herself against Dommon's face until she finished with a loud crescendo and another growth spurt, gushing all over the humiliated ex-god's face, and putting her at forty-five feet, nearly breaking out of the church. Her massive breasts now leaking the same blessing that she had previously used to ascend to goddesshood.

"Go." She commanded. "Take your seat in the pews with the rest of my followers. I need to rest." Aimee closed her eyes and dreamed about outgrowing the church...And everything else.

[callofdudes]

I need to see this happen !!

Could you do a platonic Gary roach Anderson headcanon please, but with a twist. MWII 22 timeline please

My little bug boy! I'm currently laying out a timeline for him, so guys, seriously, ask me about Roach. I'm building an empire of lore for this man in MWll 22. Thank you for blessing us @itsscromp

Gary 'Roach' Sanderson headcanons

The timeline that I'm working out for my favorite bug boy is that he was forced to go KIA after a mission gone too far south a couple months after Simons return from his capture with Roba. 22 timeline, somewhere within the time Simon was still in rehab.

Friendly reminder in the og, Simon was shot and killed, Gary had to watch as both were burned alive.

So I headcanon that he shares some burn scars with Simon. And has some of his own.

When he is introduced back to our sergeant, Egg, as we now call you. It's on a whim excursion. I think I'm sticking to the idea that Simon happens to recognize him when out in public with you and that's how it started.

You start to get along well with him, even if he does stick by Simon most of the time. The two attached at the hip. He's quiet, and you often see him using sign language when alone with Simon.

Gary could talk, but was often much more comfortable with sign language. Actually talking and trying to find words a lot of times put some mental stress on him.

A lot of times, having to speak and not having the right words can frustrated him to tears.

"Roach, where are those papers you were supposed to get to the main office."

Gary opened his mouth, faced with a commanding officer than wasn't Price. Gary is strong, but when in a situation like this he can't focus. He couldn't find words. It's like he was stuttering together something in his head but he couldn't verbally get it out.

His hands moved anxiously, knowing he couldn't sign his way out. Stuck in place. He tried to speak, but nothing would come out. The officer only questioning him again, telling him to just spit it out.

Noticing Gary's growing anxiety, you came over and lightly tapped his arm. "It's ok Gary." You whispered.

Gary attempted some frazzled sign language, his own lack of communication making him frustrated, tears reaching his eyes.

You squeezed his arm. "Gary did send them in but there have been slow processing times down at the office recently. You should get it soon."

The officer seemed to accept this explanation, and you were left with Gary.

He whined in frustration and you rubbed his arm. "Hey, it's ok. It's ok, we got there in the end."

And you decided hey, if he liked to talk in sign language, what's the harm in trying to learn? So you started to spend some of your free time every day trying to learn BSL.

And eventually you had learned enough for some basic conversations, signing Hi! From your seat in the cantine, grabbing his attention. Gary gently patting Simon's arm and tugging him over to sit with you, signing back.

You smile nervously at him, attempting the sign from across the room, hopefully he'd see it.

You could see how his eyes lit up when you signed to him. He immediately grabbed Simon's sleeve, grabbing his lunch plate and tugged him over to you.

He sat down across from you and signed back. Again getting excited when you signed back. Simon sat next to you, also joining in.

You didn't know a lot, and Gary tried to keep his sign simple, experimenting sometimes of what you knew.

He was touched that you were learning sign for him so you could be a part of his choice to go nonverbal.

That's how the real conversation started. You started to ask him questions, things about himself and how things were before he left. Before all the shitty stuff happened and you arrived. And Gary is happy to talk.

I think that Gary is very selectively mute with his people. He will speak but there has to be a trust there. Whether it's the trust Simon shares with you, you learning BSL or just doing little things to help him around back on base he feels secure with you.

A life of learning to not trust people did that to him, and his family life was probably a little rocky. But he trusts you, eventually getting deep into conversation with you.

Also, you're going to have to clarify to him if you like bugs or not right off the bat before he shows you his... friends.

And while he's all about bugs, he's also a flower guy. Nature in general is his favorite topic but I think he knows a lot about flower language. Another way he conveys how he feels.

Silly, but I think he has a bunch of those fake flowers and a vase in his room, so whichever flower is in the vase the guys at least somewhat know how he's feeling without him having to use the words to express it.

Hes very athletic and flexible. He can fit into anything. It's not uncommon to see the little guy lounging on top of the fridge before Price has to swat him off. Or hearing him crawling through some of the vents by the gym or something.

One time placed a speaker in the air vent by your room and started playing creepy noises. You only called him out when you heard that little giggle.

Quiet, but I think he has the most distinct giggle. Like, you know it's Gary. It's not quite a cackle, but it is in a way. It's very distinct to him.

Once let a recruit get away with having a tarantula on base because he thought it was cute. Simon screamed at him when the thing got out.

Gary is as silly as he is tactical. Let's not forget just how amazing he is at his job. Gary is the guy who can get in and out without being noticed. Under the cover of a snowstorm you would never see him.

He's Ghost's main team up, of course he's skilled.

When you get surrounded by enemy soldiers with nowhere left to run you think you're going to die. Until the enemies start getting shot down from bloody hell know where! Precise bullet after bullet until their down. Only then does Gary pop up.

"Surprise! Miss me??"

Has bug themed pajamas.

Did a spicy pepper challenge and was crying on your lap for over an hour while quivering and blowing his nose into the thoughts of used tissues. It was not good.

Once got a lip piercing once as a 'dare'. Was sad when Price eventually found out about it and made him take it out ☹️

Took you to the zoo once, wanted to spend all his time by the bats and the snakes. They even had a tank of spiders that he desperately attempted to get you near because 'look how cool and pretty they are!'

Gary is also an incredible comforter. He's small, but he attempts to lay across you. If you're bigger than him, he'll starfish out across your chest, snuggling his head into your chest to try and keep you cozy.

If you've had a nightmare he'll wrap a blanket around you and stay with you.

He snuggled up to you, wrapping his arm around you. He tilts his head a little, pulling down his mask to offer you a crooked little smile of reassurance.

"It's ok." He whispers, trying to calm your shaking. He takes your hand, bringing it close to his chest, making sure you're ok.

"It was just a nightmare, I promise." He whispers again.

You lean against him, and he embraces it, taking the weight for you. "I got you, I won't let anything hurt you ok?"

"Thank you Gary..."

You once saw him slap Simon hard across the face (a little spat) and you thought that little man was going to die. Apparently Gary has the powers of the sun because Simon just nodded and shut up. Like what!?

You love him but you're also scared of him...

He's as cute as he is deadly, and just... Be careful with him. 😅😅

(sorry if I mentioned Simon too much, realistically I think they are brothers who would not go anywhere without the other)

[tibbythetiger]

Hello friendsssss! We have an official tag on AO3, we’ve all grown so much in just a few days. Amazing work all around! 

I’m just dishing out some general HCs today! Hopefully, I can actually get the time to turn my main DreamTheory meeting as coworkers at Sparky’s into a real fic soon! 

Both of them enjoy their height difference greatly. Mike usually hates feeling smaller or shorter than people, but he’s never met someone as genuine and nice as Ness so it doesn’t bother him, and makes him feel kinda safe. Ness just loves his pocket-sized boyfriend. 

I know someone else has already said this, but Ness with freckles!!!! Ness with freckles is so very important to me. I think they’re super light during most of the winter, but once it gets warmer and the sun comes out they’re fairly noticeable. Mike likes to kiss each one he can find, it always makes Ness laugh. 

I know we all agree that Ness is Conspiracy Boyfriend, and I agree! I think he particularly loves those paranormal ghost-hunting shows that were super popular back in 00’s, and he’s a HUGE Unsolved Mysteries fan. When he’s looking to get the same thrill but looking for more fictional media, he loves the Twilight Zone. 

Mike makes a mean grilled cheese and tomato soup, this is in part because it’s Abby’s favorite food and he decided if he had to make anything really well it would be this. Ness actually doesn’t like grilled cheese, but Abby talked it up so much he gave it a try and he ended up really liking it. It is one of Mike’s proudest moments. 

I think Ness is really good with kids, he seems to me the type that was the oldest cousin at parties. (This is just projection), so he’s used to having younger kids following him around and having to keep them entertained. While he’s used to it, he’s really genuine and loves doing it. He’s always overjoyed to hang out with Abby, and she adores him because of it. 

Ness and Mike cannot draw to save their lives! They are horrible at it, Abby likes to hold “drawing classes” where she tries to show them how she makes her masterpieces. Ness always tries hard, but it’s just not his strong suit. 

They are the couple that slow dances in the kitchen or living room. Mike is always reluctant about it, he’s fairly paranoid at romantic gestures, and he’s always scared someone will see them, but he always enjoys it when Ness convinces him it’s okay. Abby thinks it’s the most magical thing, so she draws the two of them as princes when they dance during a Disney movie night.  

Ness absolutely tells Mike and Abby stories to help them sleep. They both think he has the most soothing voice, Ness just loves being able to help them, sometimes he’ll even sing to them, but he’s still really shy about it. 

I think Ness really loves listening to musical soundtracks, but he’s also a pop girly through and through, like, he loves Kelly Clarkson, Paris Hilton, and Brittany Spears. Meanwhile, Mike doesn’t listen to music super often, he usually lets Abby or Ness pick. Otherwise, I feel like he’s really into grunge or early rock. He listens to Nirvana sure, but also Radio Head. (I also think he’s a very big Weezer fan) 

I think Mike is a big writer, he started journaling to help him take note of his dreams/memories of Garrett, then really leaned into it once his parents were out of the picture since he didn’t really have anyone else to turn to to vent. Sometimes he can be a little poetic, and he’ll write lil notes to Ness and leave them in his apron or pockets for him to find later. 

Ness thinks this is simply the cutest thing he’s ever seen actually, and attempts to do the same thing. He’s a little cheesier, and are usually filled with lil hearts and things doodled around them, but he sticks them on the mirror or on Mike’s alarm clock. Mike saves everyone he finds and slowly they start to cover the walls in his bedroom. 

The three of them cannot have board game nights. They are all waaaay too competitive, and the last time they played Uno and Ness won, Mike pouted so much and Abby locked herself in her room. They settle for movie nights or puzzles when they’re doing things the three of them. 

When Abby first starts dabbling in painting her nails, she practices on Ness and Mike. Eventually Ness and Abby usually just have matching nails, Ness doesn’t let the looks he gets bother him any. 

Abby absolutely knows they’re dating, Mike tries not to keep secrets from her, especially after the debacle of Freddy’s, and what happened with the Aunt. She’s too young, so she doesn’t get why people are weird about it, but she understands enough that she can’t tell anyone that Mike and Ness are dating. When she does talk about them, most people assume Ness is a girl, just because of his name. Abby just stops correcting people, the only person outside of them who knows is Abby’s therapist(?), but she supports Mike so it’s not really an issue. 

Ness loves stealing Mike’s sweaters and coats, they’re so much bulkier than the ones that Ness buys himself, so they’re so comfortable. In the winter, he’ll steal them and wear them to work or around the house. Mike grumbles and pretends he cares, but he thinks Ness looks cute in them. 

Ness has the worst road rage, Mike is both horribly amused and terrified of this when it occurs. Ness always apologizes afterward usually followed up by an “If people could just learn how to drive, I swear to GOD”  

Mike and Abby will go into Sparky’s when Ness is working just to get desert and to see him. Most of the employees at Sparky’s know there’s something going on between Ness and Mike, but they all let it remain unspoken. It seems like everyone is taking good care of each other, so no one decides to interfere.  

Well, that’s all I have for now! I’m really loving seeing everything everyone is putting out, and getting to read everyone’s work and see their art is amazing!

[wonwoonlight]

my way to you special: in the moonlight / jeon wonwoo

➝ Wonwoo x fem!Reader

➝ rich!AU // heir & heiress!AU // est relationship // best friends to lovers <3 // fluff // slice of life

➝ warning: curses, so much fluff it's disgusting, kissing towards the end, they love each other so much it's unreal D:

➝ word count: 2.6~k

A/N: hi! another short one to celebrate my 3k milestone. i've missed this couple too and i'm just so so soft for them <//3 once again, thank you for your support and please enjoy this little gift. don't hesitate to drop by and tell me your thoughts too!

my way to you masterlist

[✾✾✾]

“So.”

“So?” Wonwoo raises his eyebrow, wondering what you’re up to.

“The wedding is next week.” You nudge him with a cheeky smile. “You ready?”

He rolls his eyes and nudges you back, then laughs when you stumble a little because he forgot just how easy you lose your balance.

“It’s Jinyoung’s wedding, why would I need to be ready?”

“Best man stuff.” You shrug as you lean over to hug his arm and claim the rightful spot that is his shoulder.

You’re currently out for a walk with Wonwoo, because it’s nice out and you’re a little too full from the lunch you’ve just had with him. You smile as you see a dog running in your direction, hugging yourself closer to Wonwoo to make ways for the owner to pass you.

“You know it’s just formality. I don’t even know why he needs a best man.”

“Formality is right. Let’s not have those for our wedding.” You say absentmindedly, not even looking at him.

Wonwoo bites his lip to suppress a stupid smile at your comment about your (currently) nonexistent wedding plan. You’ve been doing that a lot since Jinyoung’s wedding preparation; mentioning what to do at your wedding even though none of you has talked about marriage just yet.

Yes, you both know you’re going to marry each other and it definitely will happen someday. But it’s not like he’s proposed yet and he’s starting to think that he should do it soon now that you keep on mentioning it.

Is this you sending him codes?

He doubts. You’re usually very straightforward with what you want from him, even more when it comes to your relationship.

So, you talking about these things can only mean one thing: you’re already more than comfortable with the idea of marriage (hopefully only with him). He probably should start planning for a proposal after Jinyoung’s wedding.

“Why are you smiling by yourself, you weirdo?” You frown with a concerned look, stopping on your track. Wonwoo simply shakes his head and pulls you with him again, and he doesn’t even indulge you when you keep on insisting to find out what’s inside his mind.

You really should’ve known by now it’s only you in his mind and he has no plan in changing it.

[✾✾✾]

“Princess, I think you’ve tried enough already.” He pretends to be reluctant when you insist on going into one more shop for a dress. But, really, he’s just afraid his heart wouldn’t be able to take it if he sees you in one more dress.

He doesn’t see why you thought every single one you’ve tried on has some sort of flaws. Whatever it is, Wonwoo definitely can’t tell because you seem perfect in each one of them. Plus, it doesn’t help that he keeps on imagining you with a wedding dress everytime you come out of the fitting room to give him a twirl.

Fuck, can you be more adorable than you already are?

“Last one, I promise.” You pull him with no effort, because despite the fact that he’s whining for you to stop, he’s still an absolute simp when it comes to you so there’s no way he’d be able to say no under any circumstances. “If I still don’t find any, we’ll have dinner and head home?”

Home means Wonwoo’s place. And despite the fact that you’ve been addressing it as such since a few months back and you’ve been practically living in his place since the moment he moved in, it still warms his heart everytime he hears you call it home.

Seungcheol doesn’t even drive you to your place anymore after office unless you specifically say so.

“Why don’t you just make your own dress?” He suggests. “Don’t you do that sometimes?”

“The designer that makes my clothes is on maternity leave and I only like her works.”

“Clearly you’re not liking any of these, too.” He says before he even realizes, then winces when you hit his shoulder. You can really hit when you want to is something that Wonwoo has learned throughout the years he’s been with you. “Alright, come on. But I get to choose dinner.”

Wonwoo should’ve tried harder to convince you to go shopping with Chaeyoung. Because now his heart is about to burst at how fucking beautiful you look wrapped in a rose gold colored dress that hugs your body just right, falling just right below your knees. Some part of your skin is peeking through the sheer material, and he almost wants you to not like this because there’s no way in hell he is going to be able to stand you looking like this for hours straight.

“I take that you like this one?” You giggle at his expression; mouth ajar and eyes blown open though nothing escapes his lips.

“You look beautiful.” He says, almost like in a trance when he stands up to look at you closer.

It’s unfair just how beautiful you look, alright.

“A little too beautiful.”

You scrunch your nose at that, though your heart is beating in a messy rhythm. Wonwoo does that sometimes; gets severely honest during this kinda moment that he’s almost cheesy had this been any other situation. But you’re not complaining, and you can only whisper a small ‘really?’ because you’re suddenlt shy under his gaze.

“This is the dress, then.”

That was why you insisted on going shopping with him, alright.

[✾✾✾]

“How are you feeling?” You hold Jisoo’s hand, careful not to ruin anything even though there’s really nothing you can ruin by holding her hand. 

She looks like the pristine picture of a bride. She’s the bride, you decide. You’ve attended enough weddings to be able to tell when the bride is happy or is standing there against her will, but you’ve never seen a bride glowing as much as Jisoo is right now.

She’s radiating with all the good things in the world; she’s so in love and so happy that she’s not having cold feet at all. She’s so sure; in the promise of eternity, in life with Jinyoung, in whatever uncertainty that she might need to face after this day. Looking at the way she smiles before she mentions her soon-to-be-husband’s name, you suddenly feel like crying as you think about how you’d look on your wedding day.

“Hey, hey.” Jisoo panics a little, her hairstylist glaring at you for making her move. “Why are you crying?”

“No. Sorry, I just–” You blink continuously in hope it will stop your tears, but your lips are trembling and Jisoo actually tells her hairstylist to stop for a bit because she needs to stand up. Jennie has just come into the room when Jisoo reaches to hug you. She sends her friend a concerned look, but the look in the older girl’s face obviously means she’s not sure what’s going on either.

“I’m so sorry.” You shake your head as you carefully wipe your tears. “I’m not sure why I’m crying.”

Jisoo shares a look with Jennie, then takes a deep breath before she cups your cheek and gets into her older sister mode.

Dating Jinyoung for almost a decade and knowing him for more means she’s also known you for as long. She’s watched you and Wonwoo throughout the years, and she was probably one of the happiest parties when it was made clear that you and Wonwoo are finally dating.

She remembered telling Jinyoung a long time ago, way before you and Wonwoo started dating, that she’s envious of what you had with his brother. The both of you made love seem very easy, like it’s just obvious that you have to take care of each other.

As some sort of older sister for both you and Wonwoo, she can tell for sure that you’re one of those lucky couples that are just meant for each other. Jisoo has never believed much in soulmates; even her relationship with Jinyoung was nothing sort of magical because they choose to stay with each other.

They love each other, but it’s not easy to stay together when they have different ways of thinking and sometimes different views on life in general. She never doubts that Jinyoung loves her, but there used to be times when she doubted if love alone was enough. Unlike you and Wonwoo that she just knew would end up together no matter what, Jinyoung and Jisoo had quite the hurdles to finally get where they’re at.

Perhaps that’s why it feels fulfilling now that they’re taking another step for their future.

“Want me to call for Wonwoo?” Jennie offers, rubbing your back in comfort.

“No, it’s fine.” You smile despite your sniffles. “I’m just–happy for you. And… yeah. It’s not important. It’s your big day, sorry.”

Jisoo presses her lips together before she carefully asks Jennie and her makeup artists if she can have some time alone with you. You look up in surprise, but Jennie simply nods and smiles before she says she’ll just be nearby just in case.

It’s silent for a moment after everyone leaves, and you look at Jisoo, all gorgeous in her wedding dress even if her makeup is unfinished. You don’t talk to her on a daily basis, but she feels like she’s always been in your life due to her long years with Jinyoung–who’s basically your brother.

She’s always been kind to you though. She takes care of you a lot and even though you’re not the closest to her and you’d hang out with her from time to time even without Jinyoung or Wonwoo around. You remember going to her the few times you did end up fighting with Wonwoo, or when you just felt like sulking to someone older because Jeonghan and Shua just wouldn’t get it.

She’s not your closest friend, nor is she the first person you’d seek when you have a problem; but she’s still like your sister regardless and you couldn’t be happier for her.

“You’re thinking about your wedding, aren’t you?”

You offer her a small smile, a little shy but not seeing any reason to deny it.

“Do you want it to be soon?”

“Not sure.” You say honestly. Do you? Will it make any difference? You’ve always had Wonwoo by your side even though it’s only been two years or so since you framed your relationship under romance. You know it’s him you’re going to marry someday, but you’ve never thought of it as a pressing matter. Some days you even think it might be okay to just stay the way you are; together. 

Is there any need to get married when you already know you’re it for each other?

But after seeing more and more of Jinyoung’s wedding preparations, you notice some kind of preferences you have regarding a lot of stuff. You find yourself thinking about what to do or what not to do for your own wedding. 

And now that it’s d-day and you get to see Jisoo in her wedding dress, readying herself to seal the vow of eternity, you suddenly get a wave of imaginary pictures of you at your own wedding. They’re overwhelming, they scare you a little, but, more importantly, they give you a rush of giddiness that you’ve never experienced in your life.

“What scares you?” She shoots right to the point, and you open your mouth to say something–anything, but nothing comes out because you really don’t know what does. She seems to get this, so she changes her question to one far more fitting. “What makes you think you’re not ready?”

But you keep your silence. Because now that you think about it… nothing does.

Were you really not ready?

Or did you just think marrying him was just obvious?

“Nothing?” She smiles knowingly and squeezes your hands. “Maybe you’re more ready than you thought you were, then.”

[✾✾✾]

“What was that?” Wonwoo asks once you’ve settled beside him on the bed, fresh out of the shower. It’s almost 2AM now, Jinyoung’s wedding celebration ended just a few hours ago. But between being an immediate family and the after party for the youngsters, you and Wonwoo barely make it to the hotel room they’ve booked for you.

“What was what?” You know what he’s asking, but you’re still a little tipsy from all the drinks and you feel like playing dumb. You have all the time in the world, anyway.

You sneak your arms around his middle and lean against his chest, your ear right where his heart is at. The two of you really should be sleeping, if only because you’re dead tired and you’re sleepy; but none of you feel like doing so for some reason, so you’re just sitting there against the headboard of your bed, a blanket covering your bottom half as you cuddle with each other.

“You cried during the wedding.”

“Duh.” You bury yourself further into him. “It’s a wedding.”

He chuckles regardless, then drops a kiss on top of your head and rephrases his question. “You don’t usually cry at weddings, princess. Anything you wanna tell me?”

“Dunno.” You shrug. You look up and plant your chin on his chest to look up at him, the position is uncomfortable, but Wonwoo steals a kiss that you happily return. You spend a few moments just like that, sharing a lazy kiss that’s not going to lead anywhere.

If you hadn’t known Wonwoo since you were a kid, and if you hadn’t been practically living with him, you’d probably be thinking about how lucky you’d be if you got the chance to wake up next to him in the morning.

But you already do. You wake up to him everyday, and he’s not always the most handsome during then, sometimes he’s even borderline annoying, but you love him anyway and he’s still the most beautiful person in your world. 

You’re not taking his love for granted, but if there’s anything you’re sure of in this world, you’re sure about your love for him and his love for you.

“You’re really not going to tell me?” He whispers like it’s a secret, his lips barely away from yours.

You stare at him for a bit before you move to sit on his lap instead. If he’s surprised, Wonwoo doesn’t show it, but he happily lets you circle your arms around his neck while he puts his around your waist.

Time is a strange concept when you’re with him. You don’t know if it’s been seconds, minutes, or even hours, but you know that his eyes hold your galaxies and you’ll never get tired of drowning in them. Wonwoo doesn’t seem concerned though, which is yet another thing you love about him because he just seems to be able to translate your silence very well.

It’s then that you decide to break the serene moment.

“Hey.” 

“Hm?”

Your voice is small, barely even a whisper, but it's so clear to him like music that's only reserved for his ears and his ears only.

“Spend the rest of your life with me?”

Wonwoo blinks. Once, and then twice. And then he smiles and hugs you closer to kiss your forehead.

“I will even if you don’t ask me to.”

It’s 2 in the morning, you’re in your pajamas, and you don’t have any grand proposal up your sleeves but it’s okay because Wonwoo is always one step ahead than you are. And as he pulls away and gets off the bed to take something from his small luggage, you end up crying in the middle of the dusk when he slides the ring to your finger.

You can’t imagine a proposal better than this one; just you and him with no one to witness the magical moment that’s only reserved for you two, the city asleep and the moon high up in the sky.

[✾✾✾]

©wonwoonlight – all rights reserved. I don't allow any translations or reposting of my works.

A/N: hi. just want to remind you that your words mean a lot to writers and i wanna remind you also that we're doing this for free. when i say i can't believe i have 3k followers, i don't mean it in an insecure way, i mean it in a way that: i barely have people who interact with me, what do you mean there are 3 thousand blogs here??? i think not even 10% of these blogs ever talk to me. but, at this point, this felt like talking to a wall and it gets discouraging. so i'm just... going to write whenever i feel like writing, and i'm considering to get rid of my tag list too while i'm at it. anyhow, thank you to those who always leave feedbacks and drop by from time to time, and i'm thankful for all of you still for taking your time to read this and my other works and i'll see you whenever i post smth again :)

mwty taglist: @hoe4wonwoo @dnylwoo @yslshua @twogyuu @najaemin138 @blueixnie @boowanie @pwettytae @itsveronicaxxx @aphrodyteeth @leechanniee @jeoonghann @sdoulc@kyeomjjigae @ru-lin @listxn@yngreid @vynnz @lilactangerine @justasoftstan @02psh@lovelywoo@pusangmamon@yoontaedotin @soonchanshua @fanfic24 @nothingbutadeadesceane @nollixtrml @sweetheart-gs@rjsmochii@dowoonwoodealer

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[mumms-the-word]

Shadow Curse Events Pt. 2

Harpers, druids, and the battle against Ketheric

So in Part 1, I talked about Ketheric’s descent into Sharran zealotry and his attacks against all Selûnite faithful and anyone who so much as breathed a bad word about him. The TLDR is that Ketheric didn’t just become a follower of Shar, he basically became the Prophet-General of her new dark army, her Chosen, establishing new teachings and protocols for what defined a Dark Justiciar. It got so bad, and he became so powerful, that a leader of the Selûnite resistance, Ketheric's own master mason Morfred, made a deal with Raphael to take out his Justiciars just to hopefully give the Harpers a chance.

Because, to no one's surprise, all of this murder and fearmongering has captured the attention of the Harpers, who feel the need to step in and restore some balance.

The rest of this post is basically going to be about the Harper-druid battle against Ketheric and the siege of Reithwin, culminating in him getting sealed up in his tomb. Buckle up and be prepared for a couple of graphic war things (cw: animal death). Part 3 will be about the first few days of the shadow curse itself, because I just find that eerie and fascinating.

Full deep dive under the cut! Super long post ahead :'>

———

The moment is nigh; war has been brewing, and now it overflows. When Ketheric turned us toward Shar, I followed him - in appearance, if not in heart. This is my home, and I would not be removed from it, no matter what. I watched at a distance as the darkness here grew; as Ketheric's grief brought him farther and farther from life itself. As he gathered his army, I prayed for his defeat. As the Harpers march upon our little village - our little, beautiful village - I can only hope Ketheric will be felled at last, and Reithwin can begin to heal from this nightmare.

Let me briefly set the stage. Reithwin Town is under the governance of Ketheric Thorm, former Selûnite-turned-Chosen-of-Shar. All Selûnite worship has been driven underground. Dark Justiciars train in some elusive location outside and beneath town, only to return in order to interrogate the citizens of Reithwin about their loyalties to Shar and to Ketheric. Bodies are hanging in the square as an example to those who might think about dissenting or professing their faith in Selûne. People are going missing or being executed every day, and Ketheric's desire to expand Shar's influence beyond the borders of Reithwin is only growing stronger. Rumors abound that he's already completely destroyed a nearby village, another Selûnite refuge called Moonhaven. And now, the citizens of Reithwin hear whispers on the wind that the Harpers will soon arrive from the east...and they're bringing an army.

If a citizen were to wish to flee, they'd be nearly out of luck. The Harpers are coming from the east, but Baldur's Gate lies in the west, and the leadership in Baldur's Gate is already suspicious. Ketheric has drawn the attention of Grand Duke Eltan, the founder of the Flaming Fist and the good-aligned general who aided the heroes of BG1 (like Jaheira) during the Sarevok crisis. He's heard whispers of a Sharran enclave and has ordered a scout to go and investigate. That scout is Art Cullagh.

Incidentally, in the last post I suggested that these events are happening either between 1371-1374 or between 1396-1399. We don't know when Grand Duke Eltan died, so either theory still holds water (pick whichever you like best), but I do think his involvement moves the needle a little more towards the 1371-1374 theory. Eltan has just wrapped up the Sarevok adventure with Jaheira and the other heroes in 1368 and was dealing with other issues in 1369. He would still be in the height of his power as a leader of Baldur's Gate and the Grand Marshal of the Flaming Fist in the early 1370s. So he would have a vested interest in trying to maintain peace in his city, and that includes investigating rumors of civil unrest and strange darkness in a town just up the river from him to make sure that whatever is happening there doesn't come downriver.

Eltan sends Art Cullagh, a lieutenant/officer of the Flaming Fist (and virtuoso with a lute, as we well know). I won't post images of his orders here, since it's a letter most of us have likely read when trying to fix the shadow curse. But essentially, he's ordered to take lodgings in Last Light Inn and begin his investigation in the House of Healing to confirm rumors of corruption and Sharran influence in town. We know he attempts to fulfill these commands because he's seen at the inn and later his lute is left behind at the House of Healing.

Shadow Vestige: You see a man drain his tankard in an inn as he listens to a Flaming Fist play the lute. He's better than his uniform might suggest.

Around the same time that Art is preparing to travel down and begin investigating, the Harpers are already at work gathering an army. They're not just making Ketheric their convenient enemy—they're declaring all-out war.

They've gathered their evidence (after interrogating locals and possibly attempting to assassinate Ketheric from afar) and now they're ready to take the fight to him directly. But they need backup. So they write to the Emerald Enclave (not to be confused with the Emerald Grove) to arrange an alliance. Ketheric is going against nature, after all, and who better to call on for aid in preserving nature than the Emerald Enclave?

[The first few inches of this scroll are written in formal, elaborate script.] To the Emerald Enclave, and those deemed worthy to see this record, greetings from Those Who Harp. Know ye that the one known as Ketheric Thorm, a paladin of Shar, is guilty of crimes against body and spirit. They include, but are not limited to Murder, Slavery, and Desecration of Temples Most Holy. Let our intent be known: an alliance between the Harpers and the Emerald Enclave. United, we may end Thorm's reign of terror. The High Harpers eagerly await your good word.

The Emerald Enclave is massive, since it basically serves as the high council and umbrella organization for all druidic circles and groves that exist in Faerûn (or those who choose to align with the Emerald Enclave's tenants anyway). When the Harpers declare an alliance with the Enclave, those in charge of selecting allies make sure to enlist the druid circle that is local to that area, the Emerald Grove, since they will be the closest and have a stake in preserving the land around their grove. The Emerald Grove even immortalizes this alliance in their inner sanctum.

Image: Mural of Harpers and Druids shaking hands in front of an oak; Narrator reads: "In darkest hour, a concord made / 'Twixt harp and wild against the shade." Image: Mural of Harpers and druids stand back to back with the fallen armor of Dark Justiciars at their feet; Narrator reads: "The towers seized, the battle done / the moonrise broke the Darkest One."

It's possible that the Emerald Grove was the only circle that joined or was even asked to be in the battle, but perhaps the Enclave sent more. The Harpers needed an army, after all, and Jaheira says they numbered hundreds strong. Either way, the infamous Halsin Silverbough and his predecessor, the Archdruid in charge before him, are among the druids who join the army, though they never meet Jaheira in the battle.

Jaheira: The Archdruid Halsin. Do not be surprised that I know your name - you fit a rather singular description. And one survivor of the shadow curse's fall ought to know another. Halsin: We never actually got to meet, when fighting Ketheric that first time. Jaheira: No. We were a host hundreds strong, after all. Until we were not.

With the druids and Harpers finally aligned, they can at last march on Reithwin and begin their siege.

So let me pause for a moment to confess that the battle itself is...hard to track. Some characters (Halsin, Jaheira) and some accounts suggest that the battle only takes up about one day. The battle seems to either be contained to the banks of the Chionthar, or it spreads into the town to eventually reach Moonrise Towers. Other accounts, like the Harper's Testimonial, suggest the battle raged for three straight days outside of Moonrise alone before Ketheric descended personally into the field. Notes and letters from the House of Healing suggest the siege may have taken even longer, because supplies dwindled to dangerously low levels. Trying to reconcile all these accounts is tricky.

It's important to note that sieging a town doesn't always mean active fighting, it just means cutting off supplies and travel, keeping everyone out, or keeping everyone in, so it's possible the town was under siege for much longer than the battle that was actually fought. So the following is my best interpretation for the events, in an order that makes semi-logical sense to me. Some of this is complete conjecture. But feel free to come up with your own timelines!

Shadow Vestige: You sense a faded memory of marching in an army against Ketheric Thorm. Victory seemed possible back then.

The plan is to lay siege to Reithwin Town and force Ketheric to surrender. Failing that, siege the town until the army is too weak from hunger to fight well, then push forward into Moonrise Towers and kill Ketheric.

Part of the Chionthar divides Reithwin from the rest of the village outskirts (as you can see on the map), making three bridges the only access into town if you're approaching from the east as the Harpers and druids would have done (unless, of course, you want to get wet or you can fly). On one side of the river is the town proper. On the other, Last Light Inn and several farms.

If the Harpers barricade the bridges, or the Justiciars build barricades to keep them out, then Reithwin is cut off from everything on the east side of the river. Cut off the farms, and Reithwin loses food. Cut off travel and trade from the east, and Reithwin is forced to look to the west for supplies...but Baldur's Gate is to the west, and Grand Duke Eltan is already suspicious. He will not be a friend to Ketheric Thorm. Reithwin is essentially (if not literally) boxed in.

It's a good siege plan...in theory, anyway. And if the Harpers lay siege while waiting for their army to grow, waiting for the druids to join them, etc., then it helps them in two ways. It starves out and weakens the enemy and gives them time to increase their own strength.

For a while, the seige seems to be working.

Whether it was the Harpers or the Justiciars who built the barricades and pickets along the bridge, Reithwin is now officially under siege, and trade and supplies start to trickle nearly to a stop. The number of travelers through the tollhouse drastically dwindles, until eventually it seems to be cut off entirely. Reithwin begins to suffer food shortages, enough that the veterinarian in town is forced to butcher some of the stable's horses to provide food. And it's not just horses, judging by the evidence we find elsewhere in town, like the missing pets posters and the pile of bloodied cat and dog collars outside of the tollhouse.

(Ugh I hate it so much. But the Harpers are determined to win. And yes, while some of the food shortage stuff could have been Ketheric failing at governing his town appropriately, a siege makes more sense to me.)

At some point (days? weeks?) Ketheric likely says enough is enough. The battle must begin or he will lose his town and his army to starvation, especially with winter quickly approaching. Alternatively, the Harpers themselves grow tired of waiting. They see that their siege is doing little to sway Ketheric and decide that the only thing left to do is attack.

Either way, the battle will begin on the morrow.

On the eve of the first day of the battle, many Harpers and druids bunk at Last Light Inn, likely including Jaheira and Halsin (who both remember the inn as it was before the shadow curse). Art Cullagh is also staying there. Whether he has already visited the House of Healing and lost his lute there is uncertain, though I think it's likely. Perhaps he visited before Reithwin was sieged, or visited during the siege but before the fighting started. Perhaps he is there in the inn when the Harpers toast one another the night before the battle. The Harpers no doubt expect a hard-fought but certain victory. I can only wonder what Art must have thought, watching them, if he was there that same night.

Shadow Vestige: You glimpse a young Harper on the eve of battle against Thorm, long ago. He and his comrades toast each other in Last Light.

The next day, the battle begins.

Ketheric is a remarkable general who understands how to rouse his soldiers. Minthara describes him, even a century later, as "everything a general should be - a charismatic leader with a brilliant strategic mind." He knows his soldiers and those who would volunteer to join his army are going hungry and are fearful of what the winter might bring to their seiged town. Whether they are Dark Justiciars or not, they're mortal. More mortal than he is. So he gathers them together to bolster their morale before the battle.

[A record of Ketheric Thorm's speech to his troops before his victory over the druids and Harpers.] Take this. You there, take this from me. That is gold, friends. Let those who are coveters and cravens among you take my gold and go. There's enough to keep you warm in winter. But in those cold and lonely winters to come, you will look into the bought flames in the purchased hearth and see a bargained-for peace, and then you'll realise that such a retirement comes at the price of pride. Go on and take it. Take it and go. Those who are not afraid and me? We won't stop you. But neither shall we know a winter in which the coin of regret is idly spent. Instead we shall know blood, and fury, and a triumph worthy of a flame reconcileable only with heaven, I swear it! Against us arrayed is a group of fools - let them be our bank vault! Let us raid them, friends! Let us grow rich on screams!

The Harper Testimonial suggests that Ketheric himself did not enter the battle until day three. I can imagine Ketheric giving such a speech and then watching from the towers (a good vantage point to view the battle below) as his Dark Justiciar army descends on hundreds of Harpers and druids, knowing that victory is well in hand. His Justiciars have trained hard and ritually killed a celestial being, after all. They are an elite force.

~1~ A Harper's Testimonial: The Last Stand of Ketheric Thorm, Chosen of Shar. [The pursuant text describes a battle between Ketheric Thorm's faithful and magical Harper forces.] I do not know what magic the Dark Justiciars summoned to our plane. But if it came from the Weave, then let it be cursed for eternity. For three days, we sieged the Towers. For three days, their darkbolts cleaved our ranks. And on the third day, as his men and woman at last began to fall, Ketheric entered battle.

(The Harper might be conflating the Towers with Reithwin itself, or perhaps I'm wrong about this theory and the Harper is only talking about a secondary battle that happened right outside the Towers. Either way, putting it here because the information is extremely relevant, but here's your warning that there's plenty of conjecture ahead!)

The Harpers and druids clash with the Justiciars on the east banks of the Chionthar, slaughtering each other around ballistae, barricades, and battering rams, trying to push forward across the bridges and docks that connect the tollhouse with the village outskirts. This is no mere skirmish. The ground is slick with blood as Dark Justiciars fight to keep the Harpers and druids from advancing forward into town and reaching Moonrise. Dead and wounded soon begin to litter the ground. The battle is so brutal that vestiges of it remain even a century later, identifiable at a glance.

Character comments regarding the centuries-old remains of the battle around the main bridge into the tollhouse. Astarion: This battlefield must've ran slick with blood - I can taste it in the air, even after so long. Lae'zel: There was a great battle here. The ground stained red with blood long dried. Gale: The site of no ordinary skirmish. This was once a battlefield, and a bloody one, too, judging by the number of bodies. Shadowheart: These aren't the remains of some skirmish - whole armies clashed here once. Wyll: A great battle was fought here - I can practically hear the din of blade against blade, axe against shield. Karlach: This is a battlefield. An old one, but still. Jaheira: Forces from the Emerald Grove. Many stood against Ketheric - only we lucky few survived him. Halsin: A great many druids once stood here to fight Ketheric Thorm. Few ever left. Minthara: Remains of those who stood against Ketheric in the past.

Dark Justiciars rain down darkbolts on the Harpers and druids, bolts of pure darkness that deal moderate damage and can daze the victim. Healers among the Harper and druid ranks begin to get overwhelmed by the amount of wounded. Many of the dead are left abandoned on the field, the fighting too intense to stop and take them away for burial. Most are never recovered.

As the battle rages on for one day, two days, three days, things are growing dire for the citizens inside the town, some of whom are cowering as the battle gets closer and closer, spilling out onto the streets of Reithwin and surging toward Moonrise Towers. The House of Healing is trying to tend to the wounded and the sick, operating as both a regular clinic and a war hospital. Because the siege (and now the battle) has stopped all supplies from entering the town, their potions and tonics are running dangerously low. Additionally, though the House of Healing should technically be offering aid to any wounded person, no matter their faith or creed, Ketheric issues an order that all Selûnites or Harpers must be turned away and that all healing items must be focused on Dark Justiciars alone—an order that his surgeon uncle, Malus, strictly enforces.

[This exhaustive log lists each and every patient to have sought healing in Reithwin, along with their ailments. The minor injuries and common diseases of the early pages give way to critical wounds and deep lacerations - the repercussions of battle. Several unbound scrolls have been slid among the final pages, demanding that healers turn away wounded Harpers and Selûnites, and reserve their tonics for wounded Dark Justiciars - on the orders of General Ketheric Thorm.]

(If Art Cullagh hasn't visited the House of Healing already, he likely can't now.)

The House is still operating as a clinic, accepting patients who come in with ailments or injuries, but they're ordered to essentially ignore them. Malus even forbids the use of sleep aids and anesthetics to ease the pain or passing of the elderly and mortally wounded. Soon they begin turning away even Sharran citizen patients, or leaving them untreated, like the husband of one Cleric of Shar who comes to the House of Healing to be treated for an unknown malady. The husband never realizes that he is suffering the damage that his wife should be getting as she takes on "whole troops" of Harpers single-handedly and walks away without a scratch. He dies, forgotten, either a victim of the shadow curse or of his wife's warding bond.

Things grow so dire that at least one nurse, Sister Anna Lidwin, pens a note to the Chief Chirurgeon (surgeon) of Harbourside Hospital (which is itself kinda sketchy) requesting aid. Potions, herbs, clerics, anything that can help.

To: Chief Chirurgeon, Harbourside Hospital, Baldur's Gate From: Sister Anna Lidwin, Darkcloak, Reithwin House of Healing URGENT! Dear Sir or Madam, We have reached dire times in Reithwin. War has come. Do you not teach that it is our duty to mend all who break, comfort all who ail, without regard for the gods they worship or the champions they heed? Yet our surgeon Malus Thorm abides by his own creed. 'The will of Shar', he might say, and I dare not argue with him - or any Thorm. He allows supplies to dwindle, leaves some patients' injuries to fester so he may 'study', and commands me to nurse only Dark Justiciars that seek treatment. I beg you, Sir or Madam - please deliver us aid, so I might close every tear and cleanse every wound, even those of Harpers and Selûnites. We will humbly accept all you can offer: potions, herbs, sutures, even clerics. Help us to heal. With gratitude, Anna Lidwin

The letter is never sent. It lies abandoned in the House of Healing even a century later. Perhaps she wrote it on the final day of battle and was caught by the shadow curse as she was trying to tend to the wounded.

For the Harpers and druids, the battle has taken a turn for the worse. Ketheric's Dark Justiciars seem overwhelmingly powerful and the damage this battle is doing is only increasing, especially as it spills into town. Eventually, the Harpers weigh the cost of victory and elect to surrender. They get Khelben Arunsun, the Blackstaff himself, to write the surrender letter (whether he was physically there at the battle or not is uncertain).

Ketheric denies the surrender.

General Ketheric Thorm: It is with heavy heart that I must announce the surrender of the Harper forces and its allies to your Dark Justiciar army, under unanimous agreement. 'Harpers work against villainy and wickedness wherever they find it…' So states our code, and so here have we acted. But I also know, all too well, how the statement continues: '… but they work ever mindful of the consequences of what they do.' We cannot be party to the suffering of the people of Reithwin, and indeed, of the great loss of life that this war will visit upon the Sword Coast - and, perhaps, beyond it. So it is written, and so let it be done, Khelben Arunsun, on behalf of the High Harper Council and its allies. [Two words are slashed across the bottom of the scroll:] SURRENDER DECLINED

Ketheric rejects the surrender and clamps it in the jaws of some poor dead soul whose head or skull is then set on a pike at the battlefield (knowing him, it was probably the messenger who brought the surrender letter). The Harpers and druids keep fighting. They have no other choice. It's fight or be slaughtered.

It's the third day. Something has shifted in the ranks. Dark Justiciars are falling in battle, and for once, reinforcements aren't coming. Unbeknownst to the Harpers and druids, an infernal force is destroying Justiciars in Grymforge and in the Gauntlet of Shar. The Harpers and druids at last have a fighting chance.

And that's when Ketheric joins the battle.

The details of this part of the battle are lost to time. We know from Minthara that Ketheric is absolutely fearless in battle. She describes him as a man who leads his troops from the front and cuts through the enemy “like a scythe through stalks.” I suspect that even back then, when the blows and arrows rain down on him as they do when Minthara fights with him a century later, he does not readily fall or falter. With immortality practically guaranteed, he likely butchers more Harpers and druids than they dared imagine possible for one man. The hundreds that made up the original army of Harpers and druids have been winnowed and cut down until only, as Jaheira says, a lucky few remain. The dead number so high for Halsin that he says it would take him a day and night recite all the names of the friends he lost in this battle.

But eventually, somehow, the Harpers and druids at last defeat Ketheric and eliminate all the remaining Justiciars that are still fighting topside. Ketheric suffers a seemingly mortal wound and falls. He utters a "final curse" as he dies and then withers, according to one Harper at least. The effects of this spoken curse are not immediately apparent. For now, the Harpers and druids feel they have won a victory at last, but the curse, whatever it is meant to be, clearly spooks them. Perhaps they think that by sealing Ketheric in the mausoleum, they can avoid the effects of his last dying words.

The Harpers drag Ketheric's corpse from the battlefield and leave him in a tomb in the mausoleum. Jaheira (and possibly Halsin) personally helps other Harpers and Druids seal the mausoleum doors using arcane sigils.

Player: If he's back, perhaps you should have hit him harder in the first place. Jaheira: Believe me - he was well and truly dead. I locked his corpse in the Thorm mausoleum myself.

Halsin: These sigils...druids and Harpers alike tried to seal away Ketheric Thorm in his foul tomb. To no avail.

The remaining Harpers and druids think that this final act of sealing Ketheric away signals a hard-won victory. Jaheira and the other Harpers turn to the task of removing bodies from the battlefield to bury them at Last Light. Halsin and the other druids likely also focus on tending to their dead and wounded, while the surviving citizens of Reithwin breathe unsteady sighs of relief or resignation...until the late autumn air suddenly takes on a midwinter chill.

The shadow curse is only just beginning.

———

Tags for those who wanted the update! @fingons-rad-harp @stuffforthestash

Feel free to request a tag update for Part 3!

[art3misg33k]

i see ur most recent post and obviously i have to ask abt trent

My favorite character right out the gate lets go!!

(Ok wow this got sooo long I am sorry)

Starting with my personal takes & headcanons Trent is so nonbinary to me. They give such vibes of being like “idk man I’m just existing” as well as at first thinking they just really didn’t care about gendered stuff bc society is stupid about it but then realized just how deep those feelings were. I also love just any headcanon of Trent not being cis in general. The gender queer vibes are so strong with that one. In terms of sexuality I’m really not sure? I think they’re to multiple genders but idk in what way. Bi, Pan, and Unlabeled are the ones I’m stuck between.

On a slightly more analytical note in I think in Island they are well showcased as a nice chill person but also having the capacity to stand their ground and be intimidating (that one scene with Cody).

I don’t think they’re really good with social queues and may be a bit gullible seeing how things went down with Heather. On the outside has that mysterious energy but can be a real goober when you get to know them. Insane silliness potential that was wasted in my opinion.

Crossing into the semi-headcanon but also canon implied type stuff is their neurodivergence. In TDA it’s obvious that Trent has some neurodivergent tendencies. I personally think OCD and autism. I hate the way it was handled, not because they gave Trent these traits in the first place but how they framed them as a crazy person. That treatment was definitely very damaging to Trent and most likely made them go to heavily masking, even more so than before. Being pitied so much also felt incredibly frustrating to them.

The way that Trent was launched into fame right after a messy breakup on international television definitely made things worse. They seemed like they were thriving while the band was together but in reality they were only being seen for their music and not who they really are, pointedly ignoring their neurodivergence, flaws or any wrongdoing on their part. It hurt seeing how they were treated so horribly when it came to their mental health but as soon as they started singing they were suddenly this sweet, emotional, amazing guy.

And in terms of my headcanon they were also dealing with a ton of dysphoria being seen a guy in the Drama Brothers because they were closeted. I personally think that they had only found out a couple of months before Island so they weren’t comfortable telling anybody yet. They felt like they could tell someone close like Gwen eventually but didn’t want to come out on tv so they said nothing. I think in the days between the finale and TDA Trent became afraid again not wanting to ruin things with Gwen in fear of her being upset that they wouldn’t be the cool talented boyfriend that she expected. On the Aftermath they didn’t really have anyone truly there for them only having those who pitied them or who thought they were an awful person, leaving them isolated not just about dysphoria but just their existence in general.

I do believe that between TDA and WT as well as onwards that Trent was able to build a genuine friendship with Justin, Harold, and Cody despite how messy things got with the band at times. Unintentionally they started unmasking a bit around them closer to when WT started and when they weren’t met with judgement (maybe a bit that was just genuine misunderstanding that got corrected but still) Trent was starting to more and more feel like they could be themself. (Back to more headcanony for a sec) After WT Trent came out to the three of them and was met with acceptance! From there Trent is able to progressively come out more and more from their shell and from the closet to more people!

Also hopefully patching things up and becoming friends with Gwen eventually but that’s just like a wish I have

I think I just unintentionally typed out a whole outline of what I think their life is instead of just my opinion on them in general but yeah.

Some random headcanons!!:

- (Stolen from Courtney-deserved-better) A lot of people think that Trent looks so cool and mysterious but in actuality they are usually just zoned out

- Biggest sensory issues are with sound. They’d go insane without headphones/earbuds bc the music is nice and their noise as opposed to how horribly loud life can be (Kinda projecting on this one but it makes sense for them so shhh)

- Listens to most genres but especially the ones within the general indie/alternative umbrella. A good amount of ppl think that they only listen to mainstream pop type stuff so when they’re with Trent and some darker/depressing type shit like CSH comes on from one of Trent’s playlists they are so surprised.

- Likes some of what the Drama Brothers made but a lot of their brand was pushed into them by producers and the whole band kinda hated how fake things felt at times. After WT they manage to get away from that company and the band gets a lot more creative freedom making what they want. (Also changing the band name eventually bc of Trent if we’re talking in a world with my nb headcanon. Not sure when or if Trent would publicly come out but if not before the name change then they all just make something up about rebranding)

About ships! - I personally love tons of td ships being a massive multi shipper, especially with characters that are my faves (With an exception of Raj I don’t rlly see him with anyone but Bowie). Gwent was the first ship I ever got into with Total Drama and it has a special place in my heart. It’s not my absolute favorite but I still love seeing them together and au’s where they actually work things out healthily during Action or where Action and or TD didn’t happen. I love a lot of other ones too like Trustin and Trody and a lot more! I think my favorite Trent ship may actually be Trenoah, it’s really my favorite rare pair. Ik they didn’t really interact but the POTENTIAL!! They would play off of each other so well and ahhh dude I think I’d need to make a separate post just taking about those two

And that’s the basics of my thoughts on Trent! (well maybe not the basics but trust me it’s not all that I have to say about them).

I think in the future I’ll make a post about what I think their potential backstory is bc I got carried away and didn’t rlly cover that here. @ashyjingles if you want me to @ you in that just let me know!

[jadequeen88]

Nothing Compares: Dad!Eddie Munson x Reader

Cross-posted on AO3

Read part 2 here Summary:

The thin walls of your apartment rattled with the slamming of your front door. You jumped awake in fear, knowing you were supposed to be alone tonight. After your initial panic, you knew by the sound of the heavy footsteps and quiet cursing exactly who was terrorizing your home at 2:45 in the morning.

Eddie Munson.

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

Having a kid can change people, but not always for the better...

Notes:

I wrote this faster than ANYTHING I've ever written before, so if there are any mistakes, I apologize! I wanted to try my take on Eddie becoming a dad. Although I think he means well and would be a great dad, I could see it being a hard transition for him. As always, please let me know what you guys think. Hopefully, I will be adding more chapters to The Last In Line soon! I also have a couple of more WIPs in google docs that I'm very excited about. Looking forward to all your comments! ALSO! There will definitely be a part 2 to this!

TWs:

Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Breaking Up & Making Up, Soft Eddie Munson, Dad Eddie Munson, Oral Sex, Making Out

The thin walls of your apartment rattled with the slamming of your front door. You jumped awake in fear, knowing you were supposed to be alone tonight. After your initial panic, you knew by the sound of the heavy footsteps and quiet cursing exactly who was terrorizing your home at 2:45 in the morning.

Eddie Munson.

The specter who never seemed to stop haunting you, no matter how many times you tried to exercise him from your life. Maybe those assholes back in high school were onto something calling him the spawn of satan. It’s one of the only reasons you can come up with at this point. You knew it would be best to go ahead and wake up. The longer he spent ransacking your apartment, the more riled up he’d get and the longer it would take to calm him down.

You pull your robe around yourself and slip into the hallway, wincing slightly at the cold wood beneath your feet.

“Where is he?”

You grimaced. Eddie had clearly gotten wasted after the show tonight. He stood in the middle of your living room, cropped tee still damp around the neck with sweat and eyeliner skewed. You hated how your gut lurched with want at the sight.

“Who, Eddie?”

“Who?” he looked at you with that infuriating expression he wore when he was exceptionally worked up. You wanted to slap him and kiss the breath out of his lungs in apology at the same time. “My fuckin’ son, that’s who!” His eyes are wild and he’s nearly screaming. If his fit resulted in old Ms. Connor calling Jim Hopper again, you’d string him up from a light pole.

“Eddie, I told you Sunday at drop-off that Wayne wanted to keep him tonight. He took him fishing this afternoon and now he’s sleeping over.” you walked a little closer trying to school your features. You knew if the rage you felt bubbled over with Eddie in this state, you’d have to call Jim yourself to haul you and your ex to the station.

“Did not. I would have remembered,” He mumbled, still walking around opening closets and doors.

“I can’t do this tonight,” you sighed. Your hands started to shake.

“Oh, you can’t do this tonight? Huh? And why is that? Got your little pencil dick boyfriend hiding back here?” Eddie stomped towards the bedroom you used to share, hell-bent on catching you in a lie you’d never told.

“Eddie, you know I don’t have one!” Maybe you should save yourself the trouble and call Jim at home. Sadly, it wouldn’t be the first time you had to disturb the Byers-Hopper household in the middle of the night.

“Stop fuckin’ lyin’ to me, Birdy,” the old nickname sent pain through your chest. Sometimes, you wished for a quick slap instead of these painful exchanges. At least the sting from a blow would fade instead of crawling inside your body and festering like Eddie’s words had a habit of doing. “You went on a date with him last weekend.”

“One date, Eddie!” your voice pitched higher as he threw open your closet. He slammed the door to the ensuite bathroom against the opposite wall before looking under your bed. “I never called him back!”

“Oh, dear! Why ever not?” Once Eddie was satisfied that you weren’t hiding a man in your apartment, all his attention focused on you. His arms crossed over his chest, head cocked to the side, waiting on a response.

“You know why not,” you blinked rapidly, refusing to give him any more of your tears.

“Tell me,” he demanded softly, walking towards you. He was close enough now that you smelled the vodka seeping from his pores. How long had he been drinking tonight? You watched his arm rise, standing still as a statue as he reached out towards you. His ringed hand sat heavily on your neck. Eddie bent forward, trying to meet your downturned gaze. The thick callous of his thumb felt like fire against the underside of your jaw. You knew if you looked into his eyes, your resolve would shatter. You used to joke with Eddie about how his puppy dog eyes were his superpower. If only you knew then that they’d be used against you one day…

“Birdy…” you could hear the tears in his voice. You couldn’t take this anymore.

“Stop calling me that, please,” you wished you’d yelled it. You wished you’d have sounded strong and determined. You wished you could shove him away and scream at him. But you were just too fucking tired. Instead, your plea came out a watery, weak whisper.

“Don’t want to,” he whispered, now both hands cupping the side of your neck. His forehead fell down to connect to yours, and you squeezed your eyes shut. “I miss you so goddamn much. You know that?” he sniffed back tears and your own finally fell from your eyes.

“You’re just drunk, Eds,” your hands came up to his chest to push him away, but only lingered there, digging into his sweaty shirt. “You only miss me when your drunk.”

You felt him shake his head and grip your neck tighter. “Miss you all the time. Just too scared to say it sober,” his words slur even worse through his tears. “You know I’m a fuckin’ coward, baby.”

His wrists felt so solid beneath your hands. The sick, sad, lonely part of your soul rejoiced at the sensation, of him touching you and you touching back. Reluctantly, you pulled his hands away and turned to sit on the foot of your bed, openly weeping now.

You remember sitting in the same spot the night you kicked him out last year. Eddie still behaved like a child while you had a toddler of your own to think about. All the hours away at band practice, the drinking, him dealing even after you said you didn’t want that around your baby. The straw that broke the camel’s back was finding the blonde in his lap at a party you tracked him down to. You’d been up all night with a sick toddler, not knowing where on earth your husband was. Thank God his saint of an uncle was around to watch the baby while you combed through the dark streets of Hawkins looking for Eddie. Of course, he’d been at that asshole Billy’s place…

You remember the sick smirk Billy Hargrove leveled you with, ice blue eyes looking at you up and down shamelessly. He gleefully pointed to where Eddie sat, girl in lap, drunk out of his mind.

“You know,” he’d reached his arm around your waist and purred into your ear. “If you really wanna get under his skin, I’d love to help you out with that, mama.”

You shoved him away, vibrating with fury. “Fuck you, Billy.” you stomped across the room as he responded with a, “Yeah, that’s the point I was makin’, sweetheart!”

Eddie looked up at you in shock, pushing the girl away roughly.

“Fuck you, Eddie Munson. I’m done,” you wrenched off the thin, gold band he’d given you the day he proposed to you under the tree you’d played under when you were both just two poor trailer park kids. You didn’t care to hear his excuses. You didn’t care that he swore he’d never cheated, that he was so drunk that he didn’t even realize a girl was on his lap. You saw the writing on the wall. You knew it would only be a matter of time before his desire to play rockstar would destroy your already fragile little family.

So you kicked him out that night. Since then, you’d raised your son mostly on your own with help from Robin, Steve, and sweet Uncle Wayne. You never kept Eddie from his child, he was an excellent dad when he wasn’t in his own head, but Wayne usually handled the drop-off and pick-up times. You could tell it hurt him to see his nephew potentially becoming like his father. He always promised his uncle that he wouldn’t become his father. Wayne stepped in when the crime and alcohol took a front seat in his life, rasing Eddie as his own. Nowadays, Wayne wasn’t too sure his nephew would keep his word.

After a few months, however, the drunken visits started. At first, your resolve was solid. You were determined to keep Eddie’s shit out of your life and out of your son’s life. But the loneliness and heartache got a little more prominent with each fight. Going on that date last week solidified it… You still loved Eddie. That wouldn’t change, no matter the time or distance.

Eddie hadn’t seen you cry since the night you ended things. You made sure of it. You knew that once he cracked you the slightest bit, there’d be a very real danger of him making his way back into your life. It was a gamble you didn’t want to take.

But tonight, the dam burst. Eddie dropped to his knees in front of you, lying his head in your lap.

“Don’t cry, Birdy. You’re killin’ me,” his hands rubbed up and down the sides of your thighs to comfort you. “Tell me why you didn’t call him back. Please, baby. Just say it,” you sobbed as you pushed his curls away from his face. You still couldn’t look at him, but you felt his gaze on you. “I gotta know you still love me, Birdy. I gotta know because sometimes I think I might die ‘cause I love you so much.”

“Eddie, stop,” you gripped his hair as you felt him nuzzle his tear-soaked face into your stomach.

“No, goddammit! I won’t! You gotta listen this time,” you softened when you felt his arms wrap around your waist. “I know I’m fuckin’ stupid, okay? I know I fucked up a lot, but I never ever cheated. I never could. I can’t live with myself anymore knowing you think I did something like that.”

“There’s so much more to it,” you finally opened your eyes, looking towards the ceiling to gather your thoughts. “The drugs and the constant partying… Eddie you know I love all the guys, and I love you being in the band, but you can’t find a balance between all of that and being present for us as a dad and partner.”

“Birdy, I will! I swear on my mom’s grave, I will do better!” at the mention of his mother, you finally looked at him. He never talked about her unless he was deadly serious. You wiped his black tears away from his cheek, still avoiding his eyes. “I wanted to tell you earlier, call you before the show, but I got all fucked up in here and couldn’t,” Eddie pointed to his head to emphasize his point. “Gene hired me back at the shop,” you raised an eyebrow, finally meeting his gaze. The only job Eddie kept for any considerable length of time was working on cars downtown at Hawkin’s Tire. It seemed to be one of the only honest jobs he didn’t outright hate. “Full time. I’ll be workin’ forty hours.”

“But Eddie, you said-”

He shushed you gently, shaking his head. “For the past year, I’ve scraped by with dealing and playing gigs, and I’m fuckin’ miserable,” his voice cracked, and a fresh wave of tears spilled past his lashline. “If I don’t get to go home to you two every night, nothin’‘s worth it. Not the music or the high. I’m starting to hate every second of it.”

“You’re drunk right now,” you ran your fingers through his hair and watched him melt into your touch. “How can I believe you?”

His grip around you tightened, and he sat up a little straighter, “Give me a week,” he whispered. “Let me come home next Friday when I get off work at the shop with my first paycheck cashed.” Eddie’s hands traveled to your hips. You gasped when he gripped you tight. “I’ll bring you yellow roses and that wine you like. I’ll bring the little squirt pizza and rent that one stupid Muppet movie he loves,” you started to smile reluctantly. Eddie’s own grin matched it. “And after, I’ll give him his bath and read to him while you open that wine,” you gasped when Eddie’s lips brushed along your exposed collarbone, but you didn’t move to stop him. “When he’s asleep,” he kissed the top of your cleavage and bit back a moan. “If mama wants,” you don’t stop him as he pulls one side of your robe off your shoulder, exposing the soft bralette you fell asleep wearing. “I’ll worship her all night,” his thumb lightly traced your hardening nipple. You gasped and grabbed his shoulders. “Like I’ve been aching to do for months.”

You pulled Eddie up from the floor, standing with him. Your lips met in a flash, months of pain and longing seeping through every brush of tongues and touching of lips. The outline of Eddie’s cock was already pushing into your hips and your mouth watered. When your hand met his denim-clad bulge, he let out the sweetest, filthiest moan. Before you could get very far, he pulled your hand away.

“No, baby,” he planted a wet kiss on the corner of your panting mouth, “Wanna taste you. That okay?” you nodded as he backed you towards the bed.

Even though Eddie’s hands were shaking, he took his time, just like he always did.

“Tell me there hasn’t been anyone else,” he spoke into the skin of your inner thigh.

“No one, Eddie,” you gasped as his tongue met the fabric of your soaked panties. “Only you.”

“Not even Harrington?” he growled, hooking a finger into the crotch of your underwear and pulling it to the side.

“Christ, no!” you groaned as he went straight for your swollen clit, sucking and nibbling it. “You know better than that,” you sighed, grabbing a fist full of sweaty, dark curls. Eddie groaned and you could see his narrow hips grinding down onto the mattress.

“Pull harder,” he gasped. You obeyed and he doubled his efforts on your clit, kissing, licking and nibbling on it. He moaned into your pussy, grinding down onto the bed harder. “Oh, fuck,” he murmured, “Gonna cum in my jeans like a teenager.”

“Do it,” your voice was husky as you found your confidence again. You sat up and slung one leg over his shoulder, gripping his hair even harder. “Show me how pathetic you are, baby,” you rolled your hips into his mouth and the hold Eddie had on your hips tightened. “Cum in your pants while I use that smartassed mouth,” He nodded enthusiastically and you threw your head back. Eddie helped move your hips with his iron grip and a few moments later, you were orgasming into his open mouth. As you came down, you brushed his hair from his sweaty brow. You could tell by his anguished expression he hadn’t come yet.

“Sit up here,” you said, grabbing the back of his neck. Eddie didn’t hesitate to obey you. “I told you,” you purred into his ear, “to cum in your pants for me.” you straddled his lap and he nearly let out a shout when you put your weight down on his crotch.

This was all relatively new territory for the two of you. Normally it was you underneath Eddie being reduced to a whimpering mess, but neither of you seemed too bothered by the new dynamic. Quite the opposite, actually. You can’t remember seeing Eddie this worked up since you were teenagers.

You devoured his mouth as your hips rolled against his, coaxing his release from him. Eddie came with a shout that you happily swallowed. After a few moments, you both started to giggle. You knew you should get up and let him clean himself up, but it felt so good to be near him again and he made no moves to get up form the bed.

“Please don’t think this is a complaint,” he said, kissing your neck lovingly. “But what the fuck was that, huh?”

“Guess that’s what happens when I go that long with no sex,” you laughed. Eddie groaned and wrapped you in a tight hug.

“Never thought I’d be so happy about cummin’ in my jeans, sweet thing,” he growled, rolling you over to lay on top of you.

Things got quiet again and the reality of your situation began to set in. “Eddie?” you questioned. He looked up at you from where he lay on your chest. Thankfully, he seemed to have sobered up considerably.

“Don’t make me regret this, okay?”

“Never, Birdy,” he smiled with with whole face, laugh lines deepening and eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’ll prove it to you Friday.”

“Friday,” you said, hazarding a small, hopeful smile.

“It’s a date,” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and you pushed his face away laughing.

“Oh a date he says,” you teased. “Pizza and the Muppets. Is that what dating is like once you have kids?”

“Afraid so, sweet cheeks,” Eddie walked towards the dresser, looking in the bottom drawer to see if any of his clothes were still there by chance “We’re boring now.” He smiled over at you when he found an old pair of grey sweats.

“I still sleep in them sometimes…” you admitted, feeling a little embarrassed. Eddie simply nodded and walked into the bathroom to change.

“Just don’t forget the wine and roses,” you warned, raising your voice so he could hear you through the door. “I might never forgive you if you don’t follow through on that part of the deal.”

“I would never,” he said in mock offense as he opened the door. You thought he looked even better in the old pajamas than he did in the tight, ripped jeans. “But you’re forgetting the most important part.”

“What’s that?”

“The worshipping,” he crawled up the bed towards you again. “Might want you to boss me around again, Birdy.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” you said as you slapped his hip lightly.

“Yes ma’am,” he responded as he cuddled into your side. He threw the blankets around you both and before you realized, you were drifting off into the best sleep you’d had in months.

[rainbowsky]

Hey, I'm new here and i love your blog! I was wondering if the boys see couple\sexual edits of them together and if it makes them nervous but then it hit me that they probably aren't seeing what i see on western social media. Do you have any idea if those types of homosexual posts get censored in China?

Hi Yingyangorly! Thanks, I'm glad you're enjoying my blog!☺️

I have a huge long, like, ridiculously long post in my drafts related to this topic, hopefully coming soon.

But to answer your question, I think it's impossible that GG and DD would fail to see at least some of what's posted about them as a couple, whether sent to them by friends, family or staff, or whether stumbled upon or intentionally sought out/browsed by them. It's inevitable they'll see some of it, particularly things that get a lot of attention.

I talked about this a bit a while back. GG and DD have said in interviews that they have fake social media accounts (and of course they would - how could you go anywhere or do anything on social media without one if you were famous?), and this kind of discussion has happened somewhat in relation to fan comments, etc.

You can check out my previous post for more on that stuff.

As for sexual edits, etc., like any other content I've no doubt they've seen some of it - it's inevitable they would - but I doubt it worries them all that much. It's highly unlikely to ever impact them directly, because ultimately it's not really about them, is it? It's about the creators who make it. Any backlash is more likely to fall upon creators, not GG and DD.

And just as a reminder - it's not illegal to be gay in China, it's not illegal to post homosexual content, etc. Such content is censored on TV and other broadcast media, but not online.

Porn is very illegal in China, but that's mostly only selectively enforced. In fact, China produces a lot of porn and a lot of smutty fiction and all of it is illegal, but it still manages to thrive fairly well.

Explicit content of any kind is technically not allowed on Weibo but it's still out there - although most of it is pretty toned down and tame. Actual porn of sexual activity isn't ubiquitous there, but lewd fan art, fan fic, edits and memes can often be found.

All platforms globally have rules against explicit content, and they're just as poorly enforced everywhere. I suspect a lot of that is because social media engagement makes money, and sex sells. It's not really in the interest of platforms to completely shut down all such content - even if it was possible to do so.

The supertopic rules likely have more impact on fan behavior in this regard than the Weibo TOS does. Those rules forbid mentioning GG and DD by name or tagging their accounts, and forbid sexualization, pornography, feminization and fixating on body parts. However, that's only within the supertopics. Ultimately people are free to post whatever they want on their own accounts, and they do.

Given how many antis and solos are out there trying to take down the turtle fandom, the fact that these things manage to stay up for as long as they do speaks to how weak the enforcement is. There are definitely people out there who will report things that offend them.

This is, in fact, how the whole 227 thing got started. A bunch of solos decided to report an explicit fanfic to the government, and things spiralled out of control from there.

Could lightning strike a second time and another 227 be sparked from some of this explicit content? For a lot of complicated reasons I'm not going to get into here (it would be a very long post), I don't think that's likely.

227 was a special, very complicated situation that I don't think is likely to happen the same way again. Timing and a lot of the other factors that played into its blowing up the way it did - all of that is unlikely to align in such a way. Especially since everyone in C-ent is a lot more cautious and vigilant after 227.

GG and DD are both in good standing with the government (as is evidenced by their inclusion in government and nationalistic projects), and that's a factor that will have some influence. And no doubt they and their teams have learned a lot from past experience, and have already planned for how to protect them in various scenarios that could arise.

They also have the power to have content relating to them removed, to sue content creators, to shut down the supertopics if they want to, etc.. If they feel at risk, they have a lot of recourse. The fact that we aren't seeing this happening should reassure us that it's probably fine.

We have to realize that GG and DD are surrounded by highly skilled, highly paid professionals whose entire job is to protect them and their interests. They're both in a much safer place than they were 4 years ago.

I trust them to know what's best for them and handle their affairs accordingly. We as fans shouldn't waste time hand-wringing over things that are completely outside our control.

As for what's within our control - it's up to every individual to make our own choices about how we'll represent GG and DD online.

More on that angle if/when I ever finish that other post.

[genericpuff]

Hey puff you have a day job right? How do you keep the motivation/discipline to create comics regularly and be an active blogger?

I've mentioned this a few times before and generally try to be as transparent as possible as I can when it comes to my real life circumstances and how they affect - and allow - my comic production schedule, because when it comes right down to it, I'm in a very privileged position that allows me certain luxuries that other comic creators simply don't have. And I don't really like the idea of someone seeing what I do and like... thinking that's a bar they have to meet because it often comes with a complete misinterpretation of what circumstances I'm in that may vary extremely from their own. Y'all are seeing a tip of a very large iceberg, y'know?

I do have a day job, I work as a tattoo artist, however my schedule is very much my own to control and while that comes with a lot of pressure to find my own work, it also allows for me to have flexibility with my other projects. That said, I'm only able to be that flexible because when I'm making money, I'm making really decent money (and with far less hours than I would need to make my living if I was working in retail still) and when I'm not, I've got a partner who makes a more consistent living that may have a much smaller hourly than what I get hourly for tattooing, but is still a decent hourly compared to minimum wage that he's able to handle bills while I get back on my feet (and there have been tons of times where our situations have been reversed, where I've been making good money and he's been needing extra help; it's honestly kind of some cosmic prank, the two of us can never seem to be doing financially well at the same time lmao)

Right now, we're just starting to come out of a slow winter season, so I've had more time than ever to sink into my personal projects. It does get stressful at times having such inconsistent payouts through the ebbs and flows of tattooing, but I try to be at peace with those slow seasons because it allows me to work on my passion projects. Especially when I've got not one, not two, but three separate tattoo expos (so far) to do this summer, which is gonna be (hopefully) three separate 30 hour weekends of straight tattooing haha And while I say hopefully (because yay good money and good publicity!) it's also gonna be extremely stressful and exhausting so I'm trying not to take the slower season for granted, because I know I'll be wishing for it again when I'm in the midst of it. And that's not even including all the other events I have booked this year that are purely for vendoring (so unrelated to tattooing) that are also gonna be crazy.

That said, the past couple years have felt particularly hard, but I know it's because we're unfortunately in the midst of a massive economic recession that has seen people spending less on luxury things - and that includes tattoos. But my comics and other personal projects give me a great outlet for my ideas and thoughts, and while projects like Rekindled are unfortunately not something I feel comfortable monetizing, they are ultimately projects that bring me a lot of joy and I think that's the best I can ask for nowadays while I wait in the hopes that things get better soon in the real world.

As for getting that motivation/discipline, I don't really have one solid answer. The reality is just that I've been doing this for a long, long time, so not drawing comics feels like not doing any other established good habit. What you may feel wondering how I manage to work so long on a single comic project with such hefty updates is undoubtedly pretty close to what I feel wondering how the fuck people manage to go to the gym LOL It's taken a lot of routine building and repetition and it's as natural as breathing to me at this point, I just feel gross when I've gone a day without drawing comics in some form. That routine has helped me get better and faster at creating as well. When I started my first long-form comic series, I started out just drawing a page a day - often taking 3-4 weeks to complete a chapter - and by the time it was done 7 years later, I was putting out a chapter a week. And then that turned into 60-90 panels of full color art a week... nah, I don't recommend anyone do that on their own like I did, I can't even do that anymore and looking back I'm in shock how I was able to pull that off, and not in an amazed "why can't I do that anymore, I used to be so awesome!" way, but more in a "oh god why did I do that to myself, no wonder I'm burnt out" way.

And honestly that's kind of the reality of it, while I'm putting out consistent updates of Rekindled that are in full color and are - in my opinion - some of the best work I've put out in the last few years, I'm also struggling to rebuild habits with my original project because I've simply fallen out of practice. I'm one person responsible for all the work I've put out, and yet when it comes to looking at the projects I still have sitting on the backburner, I still feel a sort of internalized version of Person A looking at Person B and asking "how the hell do you do it???" just like you're asking me now lol I'm working on it though and trying to get back to it little by little, day by day. On rare occasions I actually get something productive done and make progress LOL

That said, none of it has come without consequences. I've spent the majority of my artistic journey working on the same project which I feel has severely stunted my outreach and set me back in my growth; after all, we only ever see and judge the merit of webcomic projects based on the 1% of people who got lucky and achieved some semblance of fame and recognition out of it, you never see the people who have spent years still picking away at the same project from the bottom with little to show for it besides the work that's going unseen. I've also already got way more back and hip pain than one should have by their late 20's and that's definitely a consequence of spending so many hours every single day working on comics. As much as I've built some great habits that have made my comics and art better, I've also ended up with some very bad ones that a lot of people don't see because all they see is the results from the good ones. So that's something that I hope I can at least warn people about, even as a reminder to stand up and stretch every now and then and get their proper amount of sleep LMAO

And then when it comes to the blogging... I'm an AuDHD person with a lot to say and I can type at 137/wpm. So that's all there is to that ♡( ◡‿◡ )