#level set buffer

[shortnspidey]

SILENT RIFT

JJ maybank x cameron!reader || WC: 4.5K

SUMMARY: The Pogues finally find the gold they've been searching for after countless obstacles. However, when it comes to actually succeeding, the universe has other plans. Held at gunpoint in the middle of nowhere, a spontaneous decision changes everything. In the heat of the moment, words are said that reveal hidden feelings. Emotions run high, leading them to confront not only their enemies, but also their own emotions.

WARNINGS: established relationship, cursing, mild angst, talks of drugs, typical OBX level violence, suggestive towards the end but no smut!

A/N: Happy OBX 4 release day! This one shot is one of my old Wattpad drafts from when I was writing a JJ story. Enjoy this drabble as I try to publish another chapter of broken record or collateral hearts soon! This ended up being a long one, enjoy! Divider by @marvelstoriesepic

➩ main masterlist

➩ jj maybank masterlist

"Hell of a job melting it down, Dr. Frankenstein," JJ scoffed, narrowing his eyes at Kiara as he stepped out of the Twinkie. He clutched the melted piece of gold tightly in his hand, its weight a tangible reminder of what everyone was expecting him to do. As the group arrived outside a shabby pawn shop on the outskirts of the Outer Banks, the rundown aspect and the graffiti on the walls made your skin crawl. The shops window's were smeared with grime, making it impossible to see inside, and the peeling paint revealed patches of weathered wood.

Kiara shot JJ a glare, her frustration evident in the tight set of her jaw and the clenching of her fists. "Like you could have done any better." She retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm. JJ stepped closer, standing toe to toe with her, not backing down from her challenging gaze. "I could have done much better. I took a welding class," He sassed, a smirk playing on his lips. "Woah, woah, hey!" John B chastised, stepping in between his two friends.

His presence seemed to diffuse some of the tension, his calm demeanor acting as a buffer between the two. You followed his lead, grabbing JJ by his arm and rubbing comforting circles with your thumb on his forearm knowing that he was anxious. You could feel the taut muscles in JJ's arm slowly beginning to relax under your touch, the rhythmic motion of your thumb providing a small measure of comfort.

"Chill out, okay?" John B coaxed, his voice gentle but firm. You watched as Kiara's eyes softened slightly, her earlier anger giving way to a mix of concern and frustration. She took a step back, her shoulders sagging as she exhaled deeply. "It's easy for you to say that," JJ scoffed, his voice tinged with bitterness. "You're not the one that has to pawn off this piece of shit." He emphasized his point by holding up the gold bars that were now melted in a unrecognizable shape, the once gleaming metal was now a twisted, misshapen lump.

"How did I get this job anyway?" JJ muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "Cause you're the best liar." Pope replied nonchalantly, his tone matter-of-fact. Letting out a sigh JJ turned to you, his cerulean blue eyes locking with yours. His eyes were a stormy sea, filled with a mix of frustration and determination. He turned his head, tapping his cheek. "Kiss, for you know, good luck." He grinned, his usual mischievous spark returning momentarily. You rolled your eyes at your boyfriends antics yet leaned in to kiss him nonetheless.

Just as your lips were about to collide with his cheek, he turned his head at the last second, smashing his lips with your in a kiss that was way too passionate for it to be in front of your friends. The warmth of his lips, the sudden intensity, made your heart race. You could have sworn you heard your sister mutter an "aww" while everyone else fake gagged, their exaggerated sounds filling the air. Pulling yourself away from the kiss, much to JJ's dismay, you smiled, leaning up and pressing one more chaste kiss to his pouting lips.

The brief contact left a lingering warmth, a promise of more to come. "You got this," You reassured him, squeezing his bicep in emphasis, feeling the tension in his muscles. "Showtime," He mumbled to himself, mentally preparing. Straightening his shoulders, he took a deep breath, and gave you one last look before stepping forward. Behind you, Sarah reached out and squeezed your hand, her grip offering a silent message of solidarity and support. The warmth of her touch was comforting, grounding you in the moment.

Everyone followed JJ into the empty shop, the jingle of the bell on the door announcing your arrival. The sound seemed to echo in the quiet space, a stark contrast to the tension that hung in the air. "Afternoon, ma'am." JJ greeted, his voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of anxiety. The shop was dimly lit, with dust particles dancing in the beams of barely there sunlight that filtered through the windows. Shelves lined the walls, filled with various trinkets and curiosities, each one telling its own story. “Afternoon.” The pawnbroker, an elderly woman with a stern face and piercing eyes, looked up from behind the counter.

Her gaze swept over your group as you spaced yourselves around the room, lingering on JJ for a moment longer. JJ stepped forward, trying to maintain his composure under her scrutinizing gaze. "I see you buy gold," He emphasized, his voice steady but with a hint of nervousness. "That's what the sign says, don't it?" She retorted, her lips curling into a sneer. She glanced at the sign hanging in the window, its letters faded and worn. "Well, I sure hope you buy a lot of it, because I am about to blow your mind." JJ carefully opened his bag, revealing the items inside. The pawnbroker's eyes never left his hands, watching his every move with a hawk-like intensity.

"I ain't got much mind left to blow, so have at it," She challenged, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Her eyes gleamed with a mix of defiance and curiosity. "How about them gold apples," JJ replied, his voice steady as he placed the melted gold onto the counter with a thump that echoed throughout the shop. The sound seemed to reverberate off the walls, adding a weighty finality to his action. The pawnbroker chuckled cynically, shaking her head. "That ain't real," She declared, her voice filled with disbelief and a hint of mockery. Her eyes flicked to the gold, then back to JJ, as if daring him to prove her wrong.

"That ain't real?" JJ scoffed, his eyebrows shooting up in disbelief. He leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a near whisper. "It can't be," The pawnbroker pressed, her voice faltering slightly as doubt began to creep in. She reached out a tentative hand, her fingers hovering just above the gold, as if afraid to touch it. "Feel how heavy it is," He countered, his voice firm and confident. He nudged the gold closer to her, the metal glinting under the dim light. The pawnbroker hesitated for a moment, her eyes locked on JJ's, searching for any sign of deceit. Finally, she picked up the gold, her fingers curling around it.

Her expression shifted from skepticism to surprise as she felt the weight of the metal in her hand. The shop fell silent, the only sound being the faint creak of the floorboards as she adjusted her stance, the gold weighing heavily in her grasp. "Mhm, here let's get some light on that." The group watched intently as she narrowed her eyes, but nevertheless picked up a nearby magnifying glass with a light, inspecting the chunk of gold closely. "Spray-painted tungsten." She concluded, her voice laced with doubt but still firm.

"Really, okay?" JJ rolled his eyes. "Why don't you see how soft it is." He suggested. "You mind?" The pawnbroker asked, holding up a small mallet, her eyes seeking permission. "No, go for it." JJ urged, his gaze unwavering as he watched her. She brought the mallet down gently, making a small dent in the gold, then pushed down on it for further inspection. "Wow. Would you look at that." JJ remarked sarcastically, a smirk playing on his lips. "Hold your horses, we ain't got the acid test yet." She shot back, her confidence wavering slightly. "Ooh, the acid test," He turned, his eyes locking onto yours, a mischievous glint in them.

"My favorite, baby." He added with a wink, grinning as he noticed how the simple action made you flush. You pretended to be distracted by a limited edition book on the shelf, your heart racing as you tried to avoid his piercing gaze. This was certainly not the place or time. Everyone held their breath as the woman dribbled a few drops of acid on top of the gold. The liquid sizzled slightly, emitting a faint, acrid smell that filled the small shop. "Well, it ain't plated, and it ain't painted," she assessed, her tone now more serious. "Ma'am, I'm telling ya, this is as real as the day is long," He insisted, growing tired of the back and forth, his patience wearing thin.

"It looks like someone tried to melt it down," she raised a brow, her eyes meeting JJ's in a challenging gaze. The air seemed to crackle with unspoken accusations. "My mom," You stepped in, linking your arm through JJ's as the pawnbroker eyed you both suspiciously. "She had all this jewelry laying around the house, and she thought it was best to melt it down to "consolidate" it." You tried to sound as convincing as possible, your voice steady despite the nervous flutter in your stomach. The lie felt heavy on your tongue, but you pushed through, hoping it would be enough to satisfy her.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sarah bite her lip to stop the laugh that she almost let out at your evident lie. The pawnbrokers gaze flickered between you and JJ, her skepticism evident. The silence stretched, each second feeling like an eternity. Turning around with a sigh, she placed the gold into a small scale behind the counter, the scale creaked under the weight. "Seven pounds," Her eyes widened. "That's a lot of earrings." Her voice had a hint of disbelief, and you could almost see the wheels turning in her head as she tried to piece together your story.

"Okay, to be honest, ma'am," JJ spoke, clearing his throat and adopting a more somber tone. "It's really hard to see my fiancé's mom fall apart with Alzheimer's. Breaks my heart, truly." His voice wavered slightly, adding an authentic touch to the fabricated story. "Give me a minute." She tsked, walking towards a secluded office. JJ nodded solemnly, playing into the act of the heartbroken fiancé. "Take your time, ma'am." As soon as she was out of earshot, you turned to give JJ a look of disbelief. "Alzheimer's really?" You whispered, trying to keep your voice low. The absurdity of the situation was almost too much to handle, and you could feel a nervous giggle bubbling up inside you.

"So I talked to my boss, and this is what I can do." The pawnbroker returned, holding a piece of paper with a price written on it. Inspecting it, JJ raised his brows. "Fifty thousand?" He repeated, his voice tinged with incredulity. The offer was far lower than what you had hoped for, and you could see the frustration building in JJ's eyes. "You think I walked in here not knowin' the spot price?" JJ retorted, his voice firm. "I know for a fact this is worth 140 at least." His confidence was unwavering, and you could see the pawnbroker's resolve starting to crack. "Well sweetie, you in a pawn shop. This ain't Zurich." Her voice was firm, but there was a hint of concession in her tone.

"Ninety, or I walk," He bargained, his voice steady. "Seventy, half price, and I don't ask questions about where you got this.” JJ clenched his jaw, looking over at John B, who nodded his head, giving him the green light. "I'm gonna need that in large denominations, please," JJ agreed, his voice calm but resolute. "Well, here's the snag, I don't have that much denominated. Not here anyway, but I can write you a cashier's check." JJ immediately shook his head. “No ma’am, I want the cold hard, that’s what that sign says. Cash for gold, and that’s what I expect.” He pointed to the sign on the wall as emphasis.

“Well, I have to send you to the warehouse. I have the money there. Is that alright?” Everyone in the room held their breath, watching as JJ mentally weighed his options over in his head. “Where’s this warehouse?” He finally asked, his voice steady but with a hint of skepticism. That is how the group found themselves further into the middle of nowhere following the pawnbroker's instructions to the supposed "warehouse". The road was rough and winding, lined with tall, ominous trees that seemed to close in on them as they drove deeper into the unknown.

To say you were on edge would have been a complete understatement. Every creak of the van and small jolt from where you were seated on JJ's lap made your heart race faster. "So, they keep money out here?" Pope voiced aloud the question everyone was probably thinking. His voice broke the silence, but instead of easing the tension, it only seemed to heighten it. The unease in his tone mirrored the anxiety that had settled in your chest. JJ shrugged, attempting to lighten the mood. "That's what she said," He chuckled at his own joke. "That's what she said." His snicker was met with silence, the gravity of their situation overshadowing any chance of humor.

"Stop," Pope warned, his expression hardening. The seriousness in his eyes was a stark contrast to JJ's attempt at levity. "That was cute, but definitely not the time, J," You exasperated, your voice barely above a whisper. The fear and uncertainty in your tone were unmistakable. The blonde boy nodded, his playful demeanor fading. He held onto the melted gold in one hand, the other resting reassuringly on your thigh. The warmth of his touch was a small comfort in the midst of the overwhelming tension. "I've never even heard of Resurrection Drive." Sarah inquired. "That's cause your rich." JJ mumbled under his breath.

"You've never heard of it either." Both you and Kiara retorted in unison. "Thank you." Sarah replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "There's nothing but weeds back here." Kiara informed the group, looking out the van's window and seeing nothing but shrubbery. JJ was about to retort with another sarcastic comment, yet he was interrupted by the sudden, piercing sound of a siren. The noise sliced through the tense silence like a knife. Sure enough, John B looked in the rearview mirror, his eyes widening as he saw the flashing lights of a car behind them, signaling for them to pull over.

"Cops? Out here?" Kiara questioned, her voice tinged with disbelief. "Are you kidding me!" JJ fumed, his grip tightening on the gold and your thigh, the panic in his eyes was evident. "What did we do?" Sarah questioned, her voice small and wavering, the fear clear in her tone. "Stash that," John B whispered urgently to JJ, who was still holding onto the gold in his hand. You quickly got off his lap and sat next to Kiara, your heart pounding in your chest. The van's interior felt even more confined as Pope and John B coaxed JJ to hurry up. The oppressive weight of the situation pressed down on you, making every second feel like an eternity as you waited for what would happen next.

Your heart sank in your chest upon hearing the cock of a gun and seeing a rifle a few inches away from John B's face. The metallic click echoed ominously in the confined space of the van. "Why don't I go ahead and see them hands in the air?" A gruff voice declared, belonging to a mystery assailant who wore a bandana on the lower half of his face. The fear that gripped your heart quickly morphed into a seething anger. You knew that voice. "All of y'alls hands up in the air right now." Oh hell no, you thought to yourself. This was going to end here and now. "No," You seethed, making direct eye contact with your assailant. You could tell by the look in his eyes that he knew you recognized him, and his cover slipped slightly.

The tension in the van was palpable, like a coiled spring ready to snap. Every muscle in your body was tense, ready to spring into action. The familiarity of the voice only fueled your anger, making it harder to think clearly. You could feel the eyes of your friends on you, their fear and confusion mirroring your own. "Just do as he says, Y/N," John B urged, his voice steady but his eyes betraying his fear. He slowly raised his hands, setting an example for the rest of you. "No," You shook your head, challenging him. The defiance in your voice was clear. The assailant's eyes narrowed behind the bandana.

"Alright, tough girl, come on out here then," He taunted, his voice dripping with mockery. "Y/N, what are you doing?" Sarah whimpered, her voice trembling as she watched you step out of the van, the barrel of the gun trained on you. "It's gonna be okay, Sarah," You reassured her, trying to keep your voice calm despite the fear gnawing at your insides. "Y/N!" This time it was JJ. His voice cracked with desperation. As your eyes met his, you could see he was barely holding it together, his usual bravado nowhere to be found. "JJ, trust me, stay here," You coaxed, trying to project as much confidence as you could muster. The last thing you needed was for him to do something reckless.

"I'd listen to the lady, unless you want your brain scattered here on the side of the road," The assailant threatened, his voice cold and unyielding. The weight of his words hung in the air, adding to the already suffocating tension. "I'll be okay, I'll be right back," You promised, hoping your words would be enough to keep your friends from doing anything rash. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever was to come, and stepped further away from the van, feeling the eyes of your friends burning into your back. Once you were a safe distance away from the van, Barry lowered his rifle, letting out a surprised chuckle. "Mighty brave of you, Cameron, especially 'cause I'm the one holdin' the gun." He mocked.

"Oh please," You rolled your eyes, your voice laced with disdain. "Drop the act, Barry," Addressing him by his name with a tone of authority, you crossed your arms over your chest, standing your ground. "We both know Rafe will kill you if you so much as lay a finger on me." You smirked confidently. "Now, why don't we cut to the chase, shall we?" You proposed, your eyes never leaving his as you reached for the shiny gold diamond ring that adorned your knuckle. Barry watched in disbelief as you slipped it off and held it out to him. "Here," You coaxed, handing him the ring. "This will get you a couple thousand dollars if you pawn it off right." Barry took the ring, studying it in the sunlight. "This covers what you and your friends got, but not what country club owes me, you feel me.”

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest once more, the frustration evident in your posture. "How much does he owe you?" You asked, your voice tinged with exasperation. "At least two hundred," Barry replied, a smirk playing on his lips. Sighing, you reached into your back pocket for your wallet, picking out two hundred dollar bills. "Are we free to go?" You huffed, knowing that if this deal took any longer, your boyfriend would most likely come and take matters into his own hands, whether Barry had a gun or not. "Tell your boy toy that his attitude's gonna get him in trouble," Barry sneered. "Don't," You spat, your eyes narrowing. "If you even think of touching him, we're going to have a problem. You feel me?" You threw back his previous words with a defiant glare.

Raising his hands in mock surrender "Damn, looks like I hit a nerve." Barry chuckled. "I mean it, Barry," You insisted, your voice steady and unwavering. With one final smirk in your direction, Barry pockets the cash and the ring and climbs into his car without a single look back in your direction. You let out a breath you didn't realize you'd been holding and turn back towards the van. As you approached, the tension was palpable, hanging thick in the air. "What the hell was that?" Sarah was the first to question you, her eyes wide with concern as you climbed into the backseat as if nothing had happened.

"I handled it, it's over." You shrugged nonchalantly, but the tightness in your chest betrayed your calm facade. Sarah scoffed, clearly unconvinced by your bravado. "That was pretty stupid, Y/N," Kiara scolded, her voice filled with frustration. Everyone nodded in agreement, their faces a mix of worry and disapproval. You shrugged them off, trying to meet JJ's eyes, who had yet to say anything. You could see the worry and anger battling for dominance in his eyes, the tension in his jaw making it clear just how much he was holding back. "Let's get out of here," John B broke the silence, his voice a calm command that cut through the tension. Everyone was unharmed, yet you somehow knew this was far from over.

Arriving back at the Château, you watched JJ throw open the door before John B even parked his van. The sound of the door slamming against the wall echoed through the air. You watched as JJ stormed inside, his movements quick and agitated. One hand was gripping his chest, his knuckles white from the pressure, while the other was balled into a tight fist, veins visible under his skin. He didn't look back, his anger propelling him forward. John B, Kiara, Sarah, and Pope turned to you, their faces a mix of concern and curiosity. It was as if they were silently asking if they should get involved, their eyes darting between you and the direction JJ had gone.

"I'll handle it," You sighed, feeling the weight of the situation settle on your shoulders. You stepped down from the van, the gravel crunching under your feet. "Good luck," John B sing-songed, a teasing lilt in his voice. You flipped him off with a smirk, hearing Sarah and Kiara scold him in unison. Their voices faded as you walked through the door, the familiar scent of the Château enveloping you. You found JJ in the spare bedroom, pacing back and forth like a caged animal. His footsteps were heavy, each step reverberating through the wooden floor. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, filled with a storm of emotions - anger, frustration, and a hint of vulnerability.

"JJ, talk to me," You urged softly, stepping closer. Your voice was calm, trying to soothe the tempest within him. He stopped pacing and turned to face you fully. His expression was a mix of anger and hurt, his jaw clenched tightly. "What the hell were you thinking, Y/N? You could've gotten yourself killed!" His voice cracked slightly, betraying the fear behind his anger. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, but you took a deep breath to steady yourself. "He's the scumbag who sells coke to my brother. I know him and what he's capable of. As much of a psychotic asshole as he is, he wouldn't hurt me. Not without facing Rafe's wrath." That only made JJ angrier. "How are you so sure?"

He shook his head, his eyes narrowing as he stepped closer, the space between you shrinking. "Maybe next time you won't be so lucky, or I won't be there to protect you." His voice was low, almost a growl, and you could see the worry etched into his features, mingling with the anger. His fists were clenched at his sides, and his breathing was ragged. "I'm fine," you replied, trying to sound reassuring. "It's over now." "Over?!" JJ's voice rose, and he ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. "Dammit Y/N, you don't get it!" He screamed, pulling his hair in frustration. "I was fucking terrified. Did you know how scared I felt, watching the woman I love being held at gunpoint?" His voice broke, and you could see the tears welling up in his eyes, though he tried to blink them away.

You opened your mouth, but nothing seemed to come out. The weight of his words hung in the air, heavy and significant. "What did you just say?" You finally managed to whisper, your heart pounding in your chest. JJ stayed quiet, almost as if processing the words himself. His breathing slowed, and he looked away, his shoulders slumping. The vulnerability in his stance was palpable, and it hit you just how deeply he cared. This was more than just anger; it was fear of losing someone he couldn't bear to lose. "JJ," You coaxed to stop him from overthinking, knowing that his flight or fight mode was kicking in.

JJ's confession hung in the air, the raw emotion in his voice making your heart ache. You could see the fear and love in his eyes, and it made everything else fade away. The room seemed to shrink, and all that mattered was the two of you, standing there, vulnerable and exposed. "I love you, Y/N," He repeated, his voice softer this time, filled with a desperate need for you to understand. He took a hesitant step closer, his eyes searching yours for any sign of rejection. Your breath hitched, the intensity of the moment overwhelming. Without thinking, you closed the distance between you, your hands reaching up to cup his face. "I'm so sorry, JJ," You whispered, your voice trembling.

"I didn't mean to scare you, but I couldn't just stand there and do nothing either." His eyes softened, the anger melting away as he leaned into your touch. "Just promise me you'll be more careful," He murmured, his forehead resting against yours. "I can't lose you, Y/N." He whimpered leaning his forehead against yours. "You won’t lose me, ever, I promise," You replied, your voice barely above a whisper. Without another word, you both closed the distance between one another, your lips meeting in a kiss that was both tender and fervent. It was a kiss that spoke of all the fear, the love, and the relief you both felt. Bodies pressed together, seeking comfort and connection, hearts beating as one.

“And I love you too,” You grinned the second he pulled away giving you both a moment to catch your breaths. “In case that kiss didn’t make it clear enough.” JJ shook his head, only pulling you closer. "What do you say we seal the deal?" JJ grinned suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows. "You're lucky I love you." He didn't even give you a chance to finish his sentence before he kissed you again, wanting to show you just how much he meant it. His hands slid down your back, pulling you even closer, the heat between you growing more intense. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you in a moment that promised so much more to come.

Thanks for reading! likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! Feeling generous? Leave a tip!

[prettygirl-gabi]

So Ma, What Do You Wanna Do?

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Short!Reader

Fandom: WNBA-Dallas Wings

Summary: never were just friends…

A/N: starting off Pride with a Hard launch fic

🏷️: @paigeshirleytemple , @cowboybueckers , @unknowgirlypop , @yailtsv , @nicebellee , @sitawita , @thatonesuschix , @vamptizm , @elalfywhore , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld , @jadasogay , @paigeluvvr , @melpthatsme , @lessi-lover , @courtsidewithlani , @elswhore , @italyyy , @lightsgore , @private-but-not-a-secret , @aubreygriffin , @issilovesherself , @graceeeeeesblog , @sayurireidotcom , @zizi-bee-yapping , @latenighttalkinqwp , @fairyblossomsav

The thing about dating Paige Bueckers—America’s golden girl, walking highlight reel, everyone’s favorite hooper—is that no matter how private she tries to be, people watch.

A lot.

Not just fans.

Teammates.

Coaches.

Her family.

Random baristas who pause halfway through her iced matcha because “Wait, are you Paige Bueckers?” And since I’m, well… me—barely 5’2” on a good day wearing heels and introverted enough to disappear in a crowd—we’ve been playing this very careful game.

To the outside world, we’re best friends.

Roommates, if anyone asks.

And yeah, besties hold hands sometimes, maybe nap on each other on planes, maybe share hoodies and match sneakers—but PDA?

Affection that reads as romantic?

Never too much of that. Not yet.

But today? Today changed everything.

It started on a lazy afternoon. Paige had a the day off from practice, and I was curled on the couch in one of her oversized Wings tees—correction: our oversized Wings tees—scrolling through TikTok while she finished up a call with her agent in the other room.

I was bored. Dangerous level bored. So naturally, I fell into a rabbit hole of Paige edits.

Then, BookTok edits/ trends.

The trends kept coming up.

One in particular.

You know the one.

The tall person (Paige). The short person (me). The quiet tension. The “two fingers under the chin, lift your face and make you look them in the eye” trope that sent people feral in the comments.

I’d seen versions of it all week.

And now? All I could think was: Would it really be that hard to recreate?

So I did what any slightly chaotic, secretly in love girlfriend would do.

I set my phone up on the entry shelf behind a plant—just enough coverage to keep it hidden, but still in full frame.

Paige wouldn’t notice. She was too busy dragging herself around the apartment like a sleepy golden retriever in slides.

“Paaaaige,” I sing-songed.

She appeared around the corner, barefoot, hair pulled back, sleepy eyes scanning me like I was up to something.

“What, baby?”

“Dinner,” I said, backing into the doorway casually. “Should we eat out or stay in?”

She shrugged, walking closer putting her hair in a low messy bun. “You wanna go out? I’m good either way. What are you in the mood for?”

I was already fidgeting.

Avoiding her gaze like usual when it came to that topic.

Going out together as just the two of us still felt… vulnerable. I hated being the one people stared at when they recognized Paige in public.

Hated the weird math they did in their heads when they saw us holding hands like, wait… that’s not just a friend, right?

And Paige always noticed when I started deflecting.

“You’re doing the thing again,” she said quietly, stepping closer, her frame easily boxing me in against the doorway.

I glanced away, lips twitching. “What thing?”

“That thing where you look at every surface except my eyes.”

“I dunno,” I mumbled. “That’s why I’m asking you, P.”

She tilted her head, slow and soft. “Nah, baby. We’re not doing that.”

She raised her hand—two fingers under my chin—and lifted my face so we were eye to eye.

Camera still rolling.

“Look at me and tell me what you wanna do, mama.”

I felt myself short-circuit. Literally buffering. If this were a live stream, I’d be frozen in 144p with the spinning wheel of death.

“I—um,” I blinked, eyes wide. “I mean—like—we could go out if you want—”

She hummed. “So, m’onna ask again-ma, what do you wanna do? Because we don’t have to go out if you don’t wanna. I get it. I really do.”

God, her voice was low. Kind. Patient. Gentle dominance at its finest. Her fingers never dropped from my chin.

I melted.

Folded.

Like a human pretzel.

I had nothing left. All thoughts gone.

“We can… we can eat out tonight,” I whispered. “Don’t really feel like cooking. Plus by the time we umm… we ordered and it gets here it’ll be like warm.”

She nodded then leaned in, kissed the side of my forehead, then a quick soft one on my lips and said, “Cool. Get dressed. We’ll hit that TexMex place you like.”

She walked off like she didn’t just drop a TikTok nuke. (Which she had no idea about)

Two hours later, we were seated in a corner booth of La Cabaña, half a bowl into the best queso in Dallas, and I pulled out my phone like it wasn’t burning a hole in my pocket.

“I, uh… may’ve recorded something earlier.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Of me?”

I turned the screen to face her and hit play.

We both watched as she slowly, unknowingly gave the world the softest, most heart-melting alpha moment in TikTok history.

Me, looking like I was trying not to spontaneously combust. Paige, calm and smooth and built like a tall glass of “yes ma’am.”

The trend. Executed. Perfectly.

“Oh,” she said after the video ended. “Baby, you really folded.”

I covered my face with my hand. “I told you. You had me buffering like a broken smart fridge.”

She smiled, barely fighting a laugh. “You gonna post that?”

“Thinking about it, but I dunno” I mumbled.

She shrugged and sipped her horchata. “Post it if you want. I really don’t care. Just know…” She leaned across the table, eyes dropping to my lips. “The PDA? It’s not gonna be ‘friendly hand holding’ after that video goes up.”

I choked on a tortilla chip.

She smirked.

Once back at home, I uploaded it. No captions about “guess who” or “my bestie lol.” No ambiguity. Just the truth.

Caption:

Nothing about this says just friends. Especially not dishing out these types of kisses either.

@PaigeBueckers

#booktoktrend #girlfriendsoftiktok #tallgfshortgf #hardlaunch

Paige’s comment came not even a full minute later.

@/Paige Bueckers:

I said what I said. And I’d say it again. louder. with tongue. 🧏‍♀️💋😈

The likes blew up. Comments exploded. People were freaking out.

• “THE WAY Y/N FOLDED LMFAOOOO IKEA CHAIR ENERGY 🪑😮‍💨”

• “if someone ever said ‘what do you wanna do, mama’ i’d die.”

• “this was not a soft launch. this was a full Broadway debut.”

• “Paige said ✨look at me✨ and we ALL looked.”

• “BookTok ain’t never seen it done so real.”

• “I need this kind of dominance in my life immediately.”

Fran, my childhood(and current) best friend texted within five minutes: “EXCUSE ME?!?! YOU AND PAIGE?!?!?!? I’M CALLING YOU.”

I put my phone face down.

“Too much?” I asked, settling into Paige’s side on the couch.

Her arm slipped around me. “Nah. Just enough.”

We watched the likes climb. The comments multiply. The secret we’d been keeping finally out in the open, loud and proud.

And true to her word, the next time we went out? Paige didn’t just hold my hand.

She kissed me—gently, sweetly—right on the sidewalk. Right in front of everyone.

And not a single person thought we were just best friends again.

Not after that.

Not ever.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

                 -Thank You For Reading!💚💙

                             -prettygirl-gabi✨️💗

[81pastrys]

Uncle GG

Summary— Mila wants George but Oscar has to work, so uncle LaLa comes to the rescue

Warnings— sick toddler ; strict-ish Oscar

A/N— buffer from the one shots 🙂‍↕️

Dad Oscar List

Dividers @bernardsbendystraws

Request— Can you do a Oscars four year old daughter who's really sick and just wants her uncle George to hold her. TYSM. I love all your posts

Mila was a paddock favorite, which meant she also had her favorites. George happened to become her favorite quickly. One sucker, and a few giggles and she was set on seeing George as much as possible.

Today at the track, she hadn’t been feeling the best and Oscar was her first victim, clinging to him like he was going to abandon her. When Oscar had been looking at stats and boring shit, she asked for George. “He’s doing the same thing angel.” Oscar explained to her.

She whined at him and he put her down, the little girl running off. Straight towards the exit. He sighed and jogged after her, grabbing her hand and leading her back to the main garage area. She pulled his arm and then just sat down, in the middle of the McLaren garage.

“Mila. Get off the ground.” Oscar was by no means strict or mean to Mila, but she couldn’t just sit and pout. “Uncle GG is working.” He tried picking her up again and she thrashed his hands away.

“I want uncle GG!” She shouted. Lando walked over at the commotion and saw her sitting on the floor. Where a car is supposed to go. “Uncle LaLa tell daddy to get uncle gg!!” She demanded.

Lando was taken aback by the attitude he was just given and crouched to her level. “Miss Mila, are you in there?” He poked her shoulder, cheeks, belly. She giggled and Lando stopped. “This isn’t the Mila I know.” Lando said.

“She doesn’t feel good, I don’t know, I have to go train.” Oscar said while he threw his hands in the air and walked off, he knew she was safe with Lando.

“Come on, let’s go find uncle GG.” Lando offered. She stood up and took Lando’s hand, well his finger. His hand was much bigger than Oscar’s dainty ones.

Lando made sure she was next to him the entire walk down to Mercedes, where they were stopped by a manager. “I can’t let you in Lando, you know this.” They said. Lando smiled and explained the situation.

After a few minutes and texts, George walked out and saw Mila. “Hey! There you are Miss Piastri!” George said, picking her up. She melted into his hold and he awed at her.

“Oscar said she didn’t feel good and was begging for you.” Lando explained. George gently rocked the little girl in his hold. He thanked Lando and went back to Mercedes, the four year old less of a threat than a McLaren driver.

“Uncle GG, where’s Kimi?” She asked, noticing that the Italian was missing. George laughed and explained Kimi had school work to do in some closed off room. He did some work while she contentedly laid on his shoulder.

Hours pass with no word from Oscar, Lando, or McLaren in general and Mila had fallen asleep on George’s shoulder. He called Oscar and he picked up. “Hey mate, Mila fell asleep about 20 minutes ago.” George explained. “Do you want her back?” He laughed.

“Yeah, I’ll set up my drivers room and come get her in like 10?” Oscar said on the other end. “Sorry I’ve been so busy with the telemetry I forgot Lando had returned without her.” Lando knows who not to leave Mila with. He catches more of Mila’s cues than Oscar does.

When George hands Mila off she stirs and opens her eyes to George disappearing. She started crying in Oscar’s shoulder. “Uncle GG!” She whined. Oscar hushed her and swayed to get her to sleep again.

Oscar could hear the sickness in her voice and feel the heat radiating off of her. “You’re burning up angel, how do you feel?” He was worried and concerned. She whined at him and he took that as a sign of ‘not good.’

He laid her down on his driver room couch and lightly draped a blanket over her, hoping the worst of the sickness will pass.

Word Count: 663

Uncle GG 🥰

@il0vereadingstuff @angelluv16 @pandabiiissh @kallanfiona @chertik-007vvv @itznotsophia

[jakesimfromstatefarm]

yk that clip of the interview where heeseung went "hi I'm handsome" okay WHAT IF before they were on camera y/n was pamper him and was like "u're so cute/handsome/fine/mine 🥰🥰" and heeseung was denying it but it flustered him an awful much.

#needthat #staydelusional

LOLOL WAIT OK ANON I LOVE UR BRAIN i can totallyyyy see this happening omg i love flustered!enha....i wanted this to be cute but it ended up having so much more tension than i originally planned OOPS also i wrote this in like 30 mins so pls don't mind any mistakes <3 #ialsoneedthat #imalsodelusional

✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊ hi, i'm handsome⭑.ᐟ ── l. hs drabble

lee heeseung is cool, calm, and collected.

at least, he thought he was.

but apparently not.

because lee heeseung around you?

very much not cool, calm, or collected.

especially when you're standing this close—wedged between his knees in the cramped dressing room, bent slightly to meet his eye level as he's seated at the vanity, your hands playing with a few strands of hair his stylist just spent thirty minutes fixing.

and the look in your eyes?

heeseung doesn't know if you're about to kiss him or commit a minor crime.

"god, you're so handsome," you mumble, half to yourself, one hand cupping his cheek while the other continues to toy at a stubborn piece of hair. "like, stupidly handsome. unnecessarily handsome. i'm going to eat you."

heeseung blinks.

frankly, he's unfazed—he's heard worse come out of your mouth.

this is just a regular tuesday.

but still.

he swallows hard. the tips of his ears glow pink. his fingers twitch against your waist, tapping aimlessly.

"baby," heeseung mumbles, "people are literally in this room."

"so?" you pout, running your thumb along his cheekbone like he's precious, like he belongs to you or something (he does). "have they seen you? i'm allowed to gloat."

heeseung groans. his eyes dart towards the chaos in room around him. nobody's paying attention. thank god.

"can't believe i'm dating the hottest person alive," you hum casually, now straightening the mic clipped to his shirt.

this time—he lets out a broken noise.

he slumps forward, burying his face into the crook of your neck in a desperate attempt to hide the way his face is definitely a few shades deeper now.

"stop," he mumbles, his voice muffled against your neck.

"what?" you blink innocently, leaning back just enough to look at him, a small smirk on your face. "you don't like your own girlfriend calling you handsome?"

"i—i didn't say that," he mutters, tugging at one of your sleeves to distract himself from the way you're still hovering in front of him, all smug eyes and soft lips. "but if i show up on camera as red as a tomato, i'm blaming you."

you only grin before leaning in, and now heeseung knows his own girlfriend is pure evil.

you're inches away now—just close enough that if he tilted his chin up, you'd kiss. just far enough that it's driving him insane.

his breath stutters.

your voice drops to a sweet, but oh so evil whisper.

"so fine. so handsome. so mine."

and honestly?

heeseung is just a weak man.

his fingers twitch against your waist. his clothes tightens. he eyes dart helplessly from yours to your lips and back. he buffers.

"i hate you."

"that's a lie."

a sigh of defeat.

"yeah, it is."

and then—you lean in even closer, slow and smug, all before pressing a feather-light kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"break a leg, handsome."

heeseung blinks. brain empty. face flushed.

then, everyone's called to the set and he gives you one last look—a pleading look—and you just grin, proudly watching as he finally stands up from his seat and walks out with the rest of the group.

"alright, let's start with intros," the producer yells out before the cameras start rolling.

everyone goes one by one—it's easy, it's simple.

and then it's heeseung's turn.

heeseung—who's mind is blank.

heeseung—who's can only feel the lingering tingle of where your lips just were on his mouth and who can only hear your voice echoing in his head, so fine, so handsome, so mine.

heeseung—who opens his mouth, finally, and—

"hi, i'm handsom—"

record scratch.

then: absolute chaos.

"handsome?" sunghoon chuckles.

everyone is either wheezing or doubling over, the cameramen behind the scenes smile to themselves, and you?

your whole body shakes with silence laughter, as you cover your mouth, watching the way your boyfriend's face crumbles in real-time and turns absolutely red as he realizes the stumble of his own words.

he's mortified.

but then—his eyes land right on you behind the camera.

on you—who's giggling so hard with absolutely no remorse, no guilt.

on you—who really might be a menace to society, actually.

on you—who he's completely, hopelessly, and tragically wrapped around.

and honestly?

maybe lee heeseung is not so cool, calm, or collected.

but he's yours.

and that's so much better.

god i love writing flustered enha

[yuriosakawa]

Strong Line of Women 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Summary: You’re pregnant. Pregnant with a Decepticon baby. You know for certain that he won’t want it, but it’s fine! Your mother raised you alone, so did her mother and her mother before her. Who are you to break tradition? Only, to your surprise, that tradition seems to be about to be abolished…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

MEGATRON

The Nemesis hums under your feet as you stand before him, optics burning into you. His presence is overwhelming, but your resolve is stone.

“I’m pregnant.”

You watch his optics narrow, his servo curling slightly in reflex. “You are… certain?”

“Yes,” you say. “And if this isn’t something you want to be part of, that’s fine. I come from a long line of strong women who’ve raised children without anyone’s help. I’m not afraid to continue that tradition.”

There’s a tense pause.

“You believe I would abandon my own offspring?” His voice is low, dangerous.

“I believe you could. Or worse — see this as a weakness.”

He steps forward, casting you in shadow. “Weakness is to be purged. But legacy… legacy is forged.” He’s unreadable for a moment. “You will not raise this sparkling alone. Not while it carries my spark.”

You meet his gaze, unflinching. “We’ll see.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

KNOCKOUT

You find him polishing his finish, his smug expression fading when he catches your serious tone.

“Knock Out… I’m pregnant.”

His optics widen. “Wait—pregnant? As in… creator-level, life-changing, energon-budgeting pregnant?”

“Yes. And I’m not asking you for anything. If you want out, get out now. My family’s handled worse without the deadweight.”

He sets the buffer down, almost insulted. “Excuse me? I’m not some vain coward who bolts at responsibility. I mean, I am vain, yes — but I am also fabulous under pressure.”

You arch a brow.

“I may not have planned for this,” he continues, “but I’m not abandoning it — or you. And if you’re raising this kid with or without me, then I suggest you let me help. No sparkling of mine is going to be seen in public with second-rate polish.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

STARSCREAM

You tell him when the corridor is empty, where secrets can’t echo too far. His wings twitch even before you speak.

“I’m pregnant.”

His expression freezes, optics flickering with too many emotions too fast.

“Pregnant… with my sparkling?”

You nod. “And if this sends you into some sort of existential crisis, I’ll handle it myself. I’ve got ancestors who fought wars with newborns on their backs. I’ll be fine.”

He scoffs — defensively. “You presume too much. I—I may not be ideal, but I’m not heartless.”

“I didn’t say you were. I just said I didn’t need you.”

That hits harder than anything else. His wings droop slightly. “Perhaps… you don’t. But maybe I need you. Both of you.”

You cross your arms. “Then prove it, Starscream.”

He straightens up, jaw tight. “I intend to.”

[coraltinyrose]

FANFIC DATA [15 Minutes to Save Him]

Most of the images I made for the story. Keep scrolling for close-ups and some new sketches.

FANFICTION DATA (4-june-2025) 🕙Title: 15 Minutes to Save Him 🕙Genre: Romance (F/M) 🕙Style: Canon rewrite 🕙Main pairing: Ranma x Akane 🕙Length: +20K words 🕙Ranking: Teen and up 🕙Where to read: ·AO3 - Fanfic with embedded fanart [Read here] ·Tumblr - I will share one fan art or so + a text excerpt for every chapter released. So it works as notifications. ·(Maybe FF.net - Fanfic with text only [account]) Summary: Ranma makes life plans right after the battle in China, but his daydreams crumble when darkness swallows him. Meanwhile, Akane witnesses his decline and is undeterred by his new, closed-off behavior. She'll uncover the root of his change and help him, even if it takes a counterintuitive approach! But will their secret 15-minute deal work? And can she keep taming her hopes of reciprocated love? ------ Progress update (4-June-2025) The fanfic started its release on AO3! See the cover and get further updates in this new tumblr post. Progress update (29-May-2025) New art at end of post. Fanfic edits/beta ongoing. Progress update (18-May-2025) Beta checks are ongoing, which made me start rereading the manga (focusing on specific parts) to improve a particular character's arc. I'm happy I can follow it in Japanese decently well! Level up~ New art added to this post.

Progress update (13-May-2025) -Cover art and some other sketches done -Publishing system decided -Beta reading pending

Progress update (8-May-2025) Drawing art while waiting for beta reading. Cover WIP added at the end of this post~

Progress update (2-May-2025)

The first chapters are as polished as my current skills allow, and they’ve already had some beta reading—kyaa~ (TYSM! @luna12-ranma-akane-otp ). The rest of the fic is also pretty far along, totaling 18k words.

Again, don’t expect regular updates from me, but know that things are happening behind the scenes.

Progress update (27-Apr-2025) The project is progressing nicely, but that means fewer posts as I keep editing the fanfic (not drawing art). Don't worry if you see me post less in the next days/weeks. I added a new sketch at the end of this post's close-ups!

Progress update (24-Apr-2025)

My amazing pro writer friend read the first draft and gave me super useful and sweet feedback. I'm so motivated to improve the story and release it ♡ RELEASE TIMELINE

I have a lot to rewrite and, as this is a for-fun project, there's no set date. But I can say this: I'm the type of creator who finishes projects to keep things consistent, start to end, and then releases them into parts. That lets people savor each installment and perhaps speculate with others on what will happen next.

Yes, I'm evil, not giving it all at once. But at least early readers have security that there is a (hopefully) satisfying ending coming ^^ Then, even if I could start publishing the fanfic once the texts are fully finished, I also want time to do art accompanying the story (like this post's images). So I'm considering whether I...

A) wait to release until I have all texts + images = regular release schedule but longer wait B) just release when I have the text and do images on the go = irregular releases, but we start earlier Probably I'll go with a mix of both, having a buffer of images before the start. Which, in a way, I already have.

What is your preference as a writer or reader?

Publish all at once, "chaos" irregular but release as soon as you have it, monthly, weekly, daily,...

----- *Characters by Takahashi Rumiko

[desiree-uk]

DXVK Tips and Troubleshooting: Launching The Sims 3 with DXVK

A big thank you to @heldhram for additional information from his recent DXVK/Reshade tutorial! ◀ Depending on how you launch the game to play may affect how DXVK is working.

During my usage and testing of DXVK, I noticed substantial varying of committed and working memory usage and fps rates while monitoring my game with Resource Monitor, especially when launching the game with CCMagic or S3MO compared to launching from TS3W.exe/TS3.exe.

It seems DXVK doesn't work properly - or even at all - when the game is launched with CCM/S3MO instead of TS3W.exe/TS3.exe. I don't know if this is also the case using other launchers from EA/Steam/LD and misc launchers, but it might explain why some players using DXVK don't see any improvement using it.

DXVK injects itself into the game exe, so perhaps using launchers bypasses the injection. From extensive testing, I'm inclined to think this is the case.

Someone recently asked me how do we know DXVK is really working. A very good question! lol. I thought as long as the cache showed up in the bin folder it was working, but that was no guarantee it was injected every single time at startup. Until I saw Heldhram's excellent guide to using DXVK with Reshade DX9, I relied on my gaming instincts and dodgy eyesight to determine if it was. 🤭

Using the environment variable Heldhram referred to in his guide, a DXVK Hud is added to the upper left hand corner of your game screen to show it's injected and working, showing the DXVK version, the graphics card version and driver and fps.

This led me to look further into this and was happy to see that you could add an additional line to the DXVK config file to show this and other relevant information on the HUD such as DXVK version, fps, memory usage, gpu driver and more. So if you want to make sure that DXVK is actually injected, on the config file, add the info starting with:

dxvk.hud =

After '=', add what you want to see. So 'version' (without quotes) shows the DXVK version. dxvk.hud = version

You could just add the fps by adding 'fps' instead of 'version' if you want.

The DXVK Github page lists all the information you could add to the HUD. It accepts a comma-separated list for multiple options:

devinfo: Displays the name of the GPU and the driver version.

fps: Shows the current frame rate.

frametimes: Shows a frame time graph.

submissions: Shows the number of command buffers submitted per frame.

drawcalls: Shows the number of draw calls and render passes per frame.

pipelines: Shows the total number of graphics and compute pipelines.

descriptors: Shows the number of descriptor pools and descriptor sets.

memory: Shows the amount of device memory allocated and used.

allocations: Shows detailed memory chunk suballocation info.

gpuload: Shows estimated GPU load. May be inaccurate.

version: Shows DXVK version.

api: Shows the D3D feature level used by the application.

cs: Shows worker thread statistics.

compiler: Shows shader compiler activity

samplers: Shows the current number of sampler pairs used [D3D9 Only]

ffshaders: Shows the current number of shaders generated from fixed function state [D3D9 Only]

swvp: Shows whether or not the device is running in software vertex processing mode [D3D9 Only]

scale=x: Scales the HUD by a factor of x (e.g. 1.5)

opacity=y: Adjusts the HUD opacity by a factor of y (e.g. 0.5, 1.0 being fully opaque).

Additionally, DXVK_HUD=1 has the same effect as DXVK_HUD=devinfo,fps, and DXVK_HUD=full enables all available HUD elements.

desiree-uk notes: The site is for the latest version of DXVK, so it shows the line typed as 'DXVK_HUD=devinfo,fps' with underscore and no spaces, but this didn't work for me. If it also doesn't work for you, try it in lowercase like this: dxvk.hud = version Make sure there is a space before and after the '=' If adding multiple HUD options, seperate them by a comma such as: dxvk.hud = fps,memory,api,version

The page also shows some other useful information regarding DXVK and it's cache file, it's worth a read. (https://github.com/doitsujin/dxvk)

My config file previously showed the DXVK version but I changed it to only show fps. Whatever it shows, it's telling you DXVK is working! DXVK version:

DXVK FPS:

The HUD is quite noticeable, but it's not too obstructive if you keep the info small. It's only when you enable the full HUD using this line: dxvk.hud = full you'll see it takes up practically half the screen! 😄 Whatever is shown, you can still interact with the screen and sims queue.

So while testing this out I noticed that the HUD wasn't showing up on the screen when launching the game via CCM and S3MO but would always show when clicking TS3W.exe. The results were consistent, with DXVK showing that it was running via TS3W.exe, the commited memory was low and steady, the fps didn't drop and there was no lag or stuttereing. I could spend longer in CAS and in game altogether, longer in my older larger save games and the RAM didn't spike as much when saving the game. Launching via CCM/S3MO, the results were sporadic, very high RAM spikes, stuttering and fps rates jumping up and down. There wasn't much difference from DXVK not being installed at all in my opinion.

You can test this out yourself, first with whatever launcher you use to start your game and then without it, clicking TS3.exe or TS3W.exe, making sure the game is running as admin. See if the HUD shows up or not and keep an eye on the memory usage with Resource Monitor running and you'll see the difference. You can delete the line from the config if you really can't stand the sight of it, but you can be sure DXVK is working when you launch the game straight from it's exe and you see smooth, steady memory usage as you play. Give it a try and add in the comments if it works for you or not and which launcher you use! 😊 Other DXVK information:

Make TS3 Run Smoother with DXVK ◀ - by @criisolate How to Use DXVK with Sims 3 ◀ - guide from @nornities and @desiree-uk

How to run The Sims 3 with DXVK & Reshade (Direct3D 9.0c) ◀ - by @heldhram

DXVK - Github ◀

[amazinglyashy]

If He Hurts You During a Spar - Xavier

It takes him a second to process just what happened, but as soon as the wheel stops buffering he's sheathing his sword and scooping you into a hug as he checks meticulously for damage across your body.

He'll tenderly brush your hair out of your face with his fingers as he studies any marks he may have left against the soft skin, before remembering exactly what just happened. Pulling away, he knows being near you or touching you without your blatant consent after hurting you would be disrespectful at the very best, and downright selfish and self-serving at worst.

He's apologizing ridiculously formal, with his head bowed down low. It feels weird and foreign compared to how close the two of you have gotten, and how relaxed he's become around you. Still, it takes a lot of convincing and assuring him that you don't want an apology (at least, not of this caliber-) and that you're going to be fine.

After much convincing, he'll touch you again. Asking 'where does it hurt?' and 'Does it hurt when I do this?'

Once he knows you're only mildly injured, he's taking you home immediately. And he's skipping your level in favor of his own, taking you into his apartment and setting you down so gently among his piles of blankets and plushies.

He flips between being talkative, and quiet. He'll ask you repeatedly about how you're feeling, anything he can do for you, cracking jokes at his own expense, etc. But also supplying the room with a generous amount of silence as he sits in his own guilt.

He'll cuddle with you that night under the guise of trying to help you sleep, if you'll let him. The both of you know it was an accident that's bound to happen with any sort of fighting, practice or otherwise, so there's no hard feelings from you, and there will be a time when his guilt finally disperses. But for now, it's just nice to lie in each others warmth.

[novlr]

How can I make my editing process quicker and less stressful? I feel like I’m spending way too much time on it and not really getting anywhere, so I’d love some tips on how to keep it simple and actually productive.

I think that most writers have a love/hate relationship with editing. It feels so good to see your manuscript go from a rough draft to something really polished, but at the same time, the editing process itself is painstaking and laborious.

The editing phase can feel like wandering through a maze without a map. Every writer has been there, staring at their manuscript, overwhelmed by the sheer amount of work ahead. But editing doesn’t have to be a source of stress. With the right approach, you can make your editing process both efficient and effective.

Break it down

While some writers thrive taking a do-it-all-at-once approach, this isn’t one that works for everyone. If you feel overwhelmed, you can try to divide your editing into distinct passes, each focusing on a specific aspect:

Story Structure – Focus on plot, pacing, and narrative flow.

Character Development – Examine character arcs and relationships.

Scene Level – Look at individual scene construction and transitions.

Language – Analyse word choice, clarity, and style.

Technical – Look at grammar, punctuation, and formatting.

By tackling one element at a time, you’ll catch more issues and avoid feeling overwhelmed. And you also don’t need to do them back-to-back.

When I do my first editing pass, I look at only story structure and character development. After draft 2, I look at a scene level analysis, with some attention paid to language. If I need to, I’ll repeat this for as many revisions as I need, leaving a deep-dive on language and the more technical proofreading aspects until my final draft.

Create a system

No two writers write alike. Your process will be as unique to you as the writing you produce, so never take someone else’s routine as gospel or as the only “right” way to approach it.

What you will need to do is experiment. Try different things. See what works for you, and what doesn’t. Things you can try might be:

Set clear goals

Before each editing session, define what you want to accomplish. For example:

“Review chapters 1-3 for pacing issues.”

“Check all dialogue in Act 2.”

“Analyse character motivations in transition scenes.”

Having specific targets can help give you focus and give a sense of progress, as it’s a task that you can tick off.

Track your progress

Monitoring your progress lets you actively see what you’re accomplishing. It can be a huge motivator when you can see your manuscript start to take shape.

Keep a spreadsheet of completed editing tasks.

Use a notebook to log issues that need addressing.

Create checklists for common problems you want to catch.

Track time spent on different editing tasks to identify where you might be getting stuck.

Organise visually

If you’re a visual learner, then being able to see your editing process taking shape can be a game changer. You could try to:

Highlight plot threads in different colours.

Mark scene transitions with clear breaks.

Flag areas that need deeper revision.

Use comments or sticky notes for bigger structural issues.

Create a colour code for different types of edits (dialogue, description, pacing, etc.).

Incorporate these colours into your tracking if you decide to use it.

Set a sustainable schedule

Editing can be just as time-consuming as writing (in some cases, it might be even more time consuming), so it’s important to make sure you don’t overwhelm yourself. Don’t expect your editing to be done in a week. To keep a routine that’s realistic and sustainable, you can try to:

Block out specific times for editing.

Set deadlines for completing different passes.

Build in buffer time for unexpected issues.

Schedule regular breaks to give yourself a fresh perspective.

Plan rewards for hitting milestones.

For me, the rewards are the biggest part of the process. I need that little serotonin bump when I finish something and give myself a treat. That can be anything from taking a break, to buying myself something. You can even involve a housemate or family member in the reward!

Keep reference materials handy

If you’re the kind of person who likes to remind yourself of the task at hand, then it can be uesful to keep reference materials or a style guide handy. This could include:

Your story bible or outline.

Character profiles.

Setting descriptions.

Style guide preferences.

A common error checklist.

Notes from previous drafts to make sure you don’t repeat mistakes.

You don’t need to have all references handy at all times. You can pick and choose what works for you, and what is important for that editing pass.

Know when to step back

Fresh eyes make better edits. If you’re tired or overwhelmed, there is absolutely no shame in stepping away. You’ll be much more productive if you approach editing when you’re not exhausted, because it’s very easy to miss things and get distracted if you’re not in the right headspace.

Make sure you take regular breaks between editing passes to maintain your perspective. And don’t be afraid to take a week or two away from your manuscript can help you return with renewed clarity. Read something else. Watch television. Just make sure you do something other than constantly working on your manuscript.

Get outside input

If you’ve done a few self-editing passes and feel you need to start polishing, you might want to look for outside help. This can take many forms. Some are free, while others will cost nothing more than your time. You’ll need to decide what is best for you. You can:

Share your almost-finished product with beta readers (I recommend you read this guide to get the most out of your beta readers, as they can be such a valuable resource).

Consider hiring a professional editor once you’ve done all you can.

Join a critique group for regular feedback during the drafting and editing process.

Find a writing partner for accountability and reciprocal labour.

Trust your instincts

Try different editing processes to see what works for you. Don’t try to force something that isn’t, and be willing to change tack if you need to. If something feels right, stick with it. If it doesn’t, let it go.

But no matter what editing process you choose to pursue, don’t aim for perfection in your first pass. Instead, focus on steady improvement through multiple editing rounds. With practice, you’ll develop a rhythm that makes editing feel less like a chore and more like a natural part of your writing journey.

[thegoldendoorknob]

RF Guardians of Azuma general tips (Spoiler-Free)

Copying my advice I made for reddit for any GoA community here too-

I updated it because reddit blew up my tips post for a few minutes and scared me lol

Story Tips

Kai, Ikaruga, Kanata, Clarice, and the other Protagonist are unlocked late in the story, so if you're having trouble raising Kai's bond, or you can only find him at night, you aren't far enough in the main quest yet. It seems like a few characters have bond levels locked behind this too, like Mauro...

The main quest expects you to level up towns once or twice before leaving, so you can get an early start before you hit that point, if you want. The 4 Villages are set up to encourage specific builds, from what I've noticed:

Spring - Farming plots

Summer - Shops

Autumn - Rice, Barns

Winter - Fruit, Fishing

Press the R3 button (right stick) or T-Key to switch to overhead view in building mode to make edits much easier.

If you hold down the button (A | X | Left Shift Key) after deleting an object in this mode, you can quickly delete anything you move the cursor over -Odd-Implement-7045

When you are in build mode, the day timer is stopped. Your RP still recharges when you're in build mode, so if you want to get some early levels for Drum Dance without eating food, you can.

When the quest says 'Pray at the Kagura Shrines' after the winter village, the shrines are on these turtle-shaped islands in the sky, not the village shrines. [Thanks AdDecent7641!]

Speaking of, monsters on islands with a tall red tower on them will be around 40-50, since they're involved with a quest later in the game.

There's some parts of the main quest where they'll stop you until you cook something specific or tame an animal. So far I've had to tame a Buffamoo, Cluckadoodle, and a Wolf.*

*You can use Fubuki and Kurama for that quest instead of the Cluckadoole and Wolf, apparently! They even have flavor text if you do -asteriuszenith

Bosses also have weapon weaknesses and elemental weaknesses based on the free weapon and divine instrument they gave you for the region earlygame. Think of it like a Zelda game; whatever tool you picked up, they expect you to use later. It's always possible to go against the flow, though the lost bonus damage is pretty noticeable this time. The weapon weakness (first icon) and elemental weakness (second) will pop up above the boss's health bar when they are hit by them.

Boss dark attacks will slam the party for big damage. I thought I was underleveled my first death, but no, it was the dark element alone blowing up my party. Maybe invest in Dark Defense equipment when you get close to level 50.

Perfect dodging an attack before attacking lets you deal big damage to enemies and boss stun bars. You also charge a lot of spirit gauge by doing them

Suzu is really easy to level bond up on and doesn't faint, so she's a great team buffer for most of the game.

If you're indecisive about who to party, I ran Suzu-Iroha-Ulalaka for almost the ENTIRE game and rarely ever had to equip them to keep up. In the lategame whenever Ulalaka was unavailable, I used Yachio as a substitute until she returned, but any healer is probably fine really.

You won't have access to Monster Barns until you complete Autumn Village, so you may want to chat your favorite characters to Bond lv1 and take them out for a spin until you reach that point. You can check their personal skills by switching to them on the Equipment menu and pressing Y | Square | X | X Key

On that note, when you unlock the 'back row' after Winter Village, the back row gains passive exp. Good for grinding characters and monsters!

Some decorations show random stats like STR, these will increase your stats when you place them in the towns! Later decorations can raise them like quite a lot, so they may be fun to experiment with. Each unique deco can only raise that stat ONCE, so duplicates won't raise the stat again. You can check what town it needs to be placed in, and if you already placed one by looking at the highlighted symbol in the crafting menu. -Haktarius

Speaking of- some decorations also need to be placed in specific villages to get their buffs. They show this with flower icons on the side in the crafting screen. -KainYusanagi

Try to pace yourself- the bond and character locks suck, but this game is deceptively long and easy to burn out on if you rush. To give you an idea- there's roughly 16 to 17 dungeons total over the course of the entire game. 4 for the seasons, 6 for the story after, another 4, then 2-3 more.

General Tips

A lot of recipes are locked behind Frog Statues, make sure you grab any you come across.

In later village levels, they'll unlock more fields for you to build on top of.

If you use the first person bow scope with the Summer Treasure equipped on top of a harvestable crop, it will sickle the crop without using any rp!

If you dash just before falling off a ledge, you maintain that dash speed through the air for GREAT air-time. This is especially helpful and fun when you get the winter sacred treasure.

Negative trait villagers will lower your town stats- evict the ones with only negative traits whenever you can.

A good time to evict negative villagers is right before the day ends- on the next day, if there's any empty slots, 2 or more new villagers will reliably fill them. -Alexaius

It helps to invest a little in logging and mining villagers early on to stockpile materials for builds later.

Fruit trees will always be a plain-colored, green tree. You can find Oranges on some cliffs around the Summer Outskirts and on that small island to the south, Apples behind the purple vines to the west of Spring Village [?], Grapes directly to the right of Autumn Village next to an ore, Chestnuts further to the right side behind all the vine walls, Bamboo shoots are to the right of the castle, and Peaches I don't know where in the overworld they might be, but I found some in a dungeon you unlock after getting Kanata. There's a traveling merchant from higher village levels that can sell saplings later, apparently!

Algester has a visual of my fruit tree directions Here!!

You can find most Golden Vegetable seeds off of islands in the sky, the mushroom master has some gold pumpkin seeds behind his house as an example. You can also buy them off basic seed shops later once a town is leveled enough.

There's a traveling merchant for every region! They will randomly show up next to teleports and appear as a white dot on the map -ego157

Onigiri holes ask for: Onigiri, Salmon Onigiri, Miso Onigiri, Tempura Onigiri, Bonito Flake Onigiri, Greatest Grilled Onigiri (Cook Together with Matsuri) -Haktarius

inkstainedgwyn is starting a Unique Dishes list! You can unlock unique dishes when you are Bond Level 6 with a character.

SEEEECRETSmuahaha has made a simple Gifting Guide for the romanceable characters! Big-Buzz-Jet recently made a more in-depth one Here!

Taming bees for their honey is a pretty good way to make money! Higher level monsters will give you higher level produce for more $$$ as well! -ego157

The DLC swim suits and the default swim suits are different! You can unlock them by reaching bond 2 and inviting them to the waterfall or beach.

Yukata outfits are unlocked on Summer 20th! You get them by attending the firework festival. They can be unlocked a little earlier on Summer 7 if you have Kanata. -Kisaell77, Haddock_Lotus

Higher bond levels also unlock some personal accessories, like Iroha's headband or Kai's mask.

[karikarasuno]

cw: drinking, cheating, sexual content

sabo shouldn't. and he hasn't. for years, he hasn't. the flirting? harmless. the touching? innocuous.

he's never once crossed a boundary with you. for all intents and purposes, he's been respectful. to you and your relationship. your relationship with his brother. with ace.

and now you're engaged. congratulations. now you'll be around 'til death do you part. but sabo doesn't know how much longer he can put up with this.

you're a vision in white as you twirl around happily, hand looped around ace's elbow as you show off your ring. it's a pretty ring. the perfect ring. he should know. he helped ace pick it out.

the engagement party passes in a blur. and by the end of it sabo isn't really sober anymore. not drunk. well, not black out drunk. he remembers. he wishes he didn't, but he does.

"oh, sabo, look at the state of you," you coo at him as he nurses his fifth? maybe, sixth drink. whiskey is his poison of choice tonight. was. this is his last drink.

"what? i thought i looked handsome." he gestures sloppily to his outfit. an outfit he's worn before and one he knows you like. you told him so yourself.

"handsome isn't gonna drive you home," you say, gingerly taking the glass from his hand and setting it on a nearby table before placing a water bottle in his previously empty grip.

"i'm not drunk," he says, but he knows he's flushed. from ears to chest. he hates it. and he hates that you know it. the state he's in. you level him with a stare that he's familiar with. it's teasing and he doesn't need to hear you say it out loud. he hears your words in his head.

don't be silly, sabo. just tell me the truth.

oh, but he can't. he can't tell you the truth because then that will ruin everything. ace is happy. happier than he's ever seen him. if he confesses to you he will either lose ace, or you, or even you both. that's not really a risk sabo is willing to take. and if he can't have you, he's just glad that ace does.

"fine," he starts, swinging the bottle around dramatically, "i'm a little drunk. if it'll make you happy i'll call an uber."

"don't worry about it," you laugh, reaching over to open the water bottle for him. the gesture is sweet. friendly. but when your hands touch him, he can't fight the burning rush of feelings that fills his chest. it's stupid. he can't be in love with you. it makes no sense. "we'll take you home."

"no," is his immediate reply. it's more forceful than he intends it to be. there's a flash of hurt in your eyes but you recover quickly. it would go unnoticed by anyone else, but unfortunately for sabo he spends far too much time observing you. he knows you. it's pathetic, really. "sorry, i just don't wanna ruin your big night. i'm sure you and ace have some celebrating to do when you get home."

he watches you blush. it always starts at the apples of your cheeks, but if he prods far enough it has a tendency to travel down your neck. "your pleasure is something i'd never wanna get in the way of."

"stop it," you scold playfully, but your blush deepens. right down to your neck. just like he knew it would. "drink your water, i'll talk to ace about giving you a ride."

and somehow, fate has a very funny way of giving him the exact opposite of what he wants. he didn't want you and ace to take him home. so the universe does him one better. you're taking him home. ace has to handle luffy for the night. that means sabo gets you all to himself. woofuckinghoo.

"i'm fine," he argues, holding his car keys behind his back and out of your reach. "i swear. tell me to walk in a straight line."

you patiently hold out your hand. no reply.

"or i can say the alphabet backwards." he tries to reason with you. nothing works.

"sabo, just be a good boy and hand over the keys," you say, slowly. his brain buffers for a second at your words. good boy. he can do that for you. he wants to do that for you. but you're not his. so he bargains.

"and what do i get if i do?"

"you get home." you reach quickly behind his back, but sabo is faster than you. even drunk. he holds the keys over his head. and he knows you won't jump to reach them.

"i want something else," he whispers, his eyes fall to your lips. they linger there long enough for you to notice. you're practically pressed against him to begin with from when you tried to get the keys the first time.

"and what would that be?" you try to keep your tone neutral, but there's curiosity hidden in between your words. you know exactly what he wants. what he's been wanting. but you're loyal. devoted. he wants you.

but sabo decides to settle on, "a kiss."

you smirk up at him. covering up your surprise with a tasteful smile. "i knew you were drunk, but not that drunk."

"just one," he negotiates. "between friends."

"give me the keys and i'll think about it," you say, holding out your hand again. sabo considers it. it is the thought that counts. and as long as you're thinking about kissing him that could be enough to satiate him. for tonight, at least.

he drops the keys in your open palm.

"thank you," you enunciate the words, shoving him lightly out of the way and opening the driver's side door. "now get in."

and he does.

the drive back to his place is normal. normal conversation. normal music playing on the radio. normal. but there's tension that he's never felt before. your body is rigid as both of your hands cling to the steering wheel. your words would never give it away, though. he wonders if you're actually thinking of kissing him.

he has to ignore the hope that flares in his chest.

"ok, we're here." you park in front of his apartment complex and turn off his car. "ace should be here in 30 to pick me up."

you hand him his keys. but you don't look at him like you usually do. your eyes are trained on the center console that separates you.

"thanks for bringing me home. safely," he says, clutching the keys in his fist. "how can i ever repay you?"

"your company is payment enough," you answer with a light laugh and you finally glance at him through you lashes. timid.

"if you say so." he shrugs, smiling dopily at you. "but if i recall correctly a kiss was promised."

"you weren't being serious." you eye him warily, concern draws itself into your expression. fine, no kiss for him. but he can play this off. he's drunk, after all.

"just on the cheek." he shifts closer to you, leaning forward and presenting to you the left side of his face. "i said a kiss between friends. we're friends, aren't we?"

"ace is your brother," you say firmly.

"not technically." sabo tries to laugh it off. the seriousness.

"sabo."

"i know," he groans, dropping his head to face you.

"where is this coming from?" what sabo hates the most is that he can deny it all he wants, but you know. well, you have an idea. of what he feels for you. he covers it up well, but you're not dumb. your intelligence is something he admires about you. sabo is just a fool.

"you said it yourself, i'm drunk."

you sigh and it's heavy. riddled with pity. sabo can't have that.

"stop thinking so hard." he raps a knuckle against your forehead. "i just need to stop drinking whiskey. it makes me want things i can't have."

"and what does it make you want?"

"don't do this." he shakes his head. he can't handle this. not right now. "it's late. ace'll be here any minute."

“sabo, look at me,” you urge, and when he does he sees sympathy in your eyes. he doesn’t want your sympathy. “just tell me.”

“don’t-,”

you kiss him before he can finish. you kiss him before he can think better of it. he’s not sure why you kiss him. all he knows is that this is exactly what he’s been waiting for. your lips slotted between his. he can taste your lipgloss. the one he’s watched you apply a million times. the same one he’s watched you smear across ace’s face to annoy him.

sabo used to wish that was him, instead. but now he has this. and it’s over before sabo can kiss you the way he really wants. you pull away, eyes averted.

“sorry,” you blurt out, still refusing to meet his eyes, “you just looked so… sad.”

against his better judgement sabo laughs. really this is just his luck.

“is that a habit of yours? kissing people when they’re sad?”

“no,” you bite down on your bottom lip to keep the smile he’s so fond of hidden, “just you, i guess.”

“lucky me,” he laughs again, this one more bitter than the last.

“i know i shouldn’t have.” he feels you staring at the side of his face. and sabo is ashamed. because he wants to do it again. one taste isn’t enough.

“yeah,” he agrees, eyes connecting with yours. “and i shouldn’t do this.”

his hand finds the side of your neck. he moves swiftly. so that you don’t have time to process. and he kisses you again. but this time the way he wants to kiss you. a real kiss. with parted lips and a curious tongue.

you don’t push him away like he expects you to. you even kiss him back, your own tongue pressing against his when he slips it between your lips.

“this is a bad idea,” you murmur into his lips, but neither of you stop.

“it is,” he affirms, but his kisses trail down to your neck. taking the same path as your blush usually does.

“we shouldn’t be doing this,” you say, your breath catching on itself when he licks at your earlobe.

“no.” he bites down and you moan. “we shouldn’t.”

“we should probably stop.” his hand is on your thigh. his fingers toy with the hem of your dress as he keeps kissing you.

“then tell me to stop.” he presses the words into your collarbone, inhaling your perfume so deeply his eyes roll back. “tell me to stop and i will.”

“i-.” he drags his fingers further up your inner thigh. you’re soft. softer than his fantasies could ever imagine.

“say it,” he pleads. he just needs to hear you tell him that you don’t want this. that you don’t want him. and he’ll bury his feelings and pretend like this never happened. for everyone’s sake.

“sabo,” you whine. wrong. that’s the wrong thing to say.

“you can’t say my name like that.” he forces his face away from your neck. and he realizes too late that looking at you is a mistake. “you’re not making this easy.”

“just this once,” you nod, eyes half-lidded and your breathing is irregular. “touch me, just this one time.”

“no.” but sabo’s hand is sliding up your inner thigh until his thumb is digging into the crease where your thigh meets your hip.

“no.” he shakes his head, but his forehead drops to yours as his index finger traces you over your underwear. his body and his mind are not aligning. when he asked for that stupid kiss earlier he never would have thought you’d actually entertain it.

never in a million years would he have thought that tonight he would be sliding your panties to the side. that your fingers would weakly wrap around his wrist and guide him to your center. no no no, this is wrong.

“i’m sorry,” you whisper. and he knows you’re not apologizing to him. he knows those words are meant for someone else. for your fiance. his best friend. his brother.

“fuck.” he slips a finger inside of you. much too easily. “me too.”

he’s kissing you again. partially to distract himself. but mostly because he needs to kiss you. he needs to keep feeling the desire that’s rolling around in his gut. that’s setting him on fire.

years sabo has waited for this. years sabo has craved this. he slips in a second finger. your thighs tighten around his hand. he pushes further into you.

“oh god,” you whimper, your lips wet with his spit. he leans back to watch you grind down on his fingers. use him to find that pleasure he was teasing you about earlier. your eyes are screwed shut and his fingers press down harder within you and just when he thinks he’s about to watch you cum. something he’s never really had the ability to fully create an image of in his head, your phone rings.

it’s ace. the blood drains from both of your faces.

“i should get that,” you say hurriedly, pushing his hand away, smearing your slick against your thigh.

“hey, baby, i’m about to pull up. meet me outside?” he hears ace on the line. it’s so quiet in sabo’s car that his familiar voice is the most sobering thing he’s had all evening.

“we’re actually still in the car, so i’ll wait for you here,” you reply, voice wavering a little, but not enough to give you away.

“ok, see you soon. love you.”

“yeah, i love you too.”

you sit in silence for the two minutes it takes ace to pull up beside you. you don’t tell him goodbye when you step out of the car. he doesn’t say it either.

instead he waves to ace as he pulls out of the parking lot.

and later, when he’s alone. the smell of you still clinging to his fingers. he uses his memory of you to get himself off.

[grievous-writes]

𝔹𝕆ℕ𝔻𝔼𝔻 𝔹𝕐 𝕊𝕀ℕ

Part Two

What happens to cherubs when they fall? There was already the damning example of God's golden Seraphim, where his fall from grace landed him upon the burning throne of Hell; to rule for all of time. A curse and, weirdly enough, a blessing. But you, a lone cherub sent on a nearly impossible quest? You landed smack dab in the middle of a courtroom in session; complete with a stunned jury and judge with burning eyes. 

Fandoms: HelluvaBoss & HazbinHotel Pairing: Female Reader / Fallen Cherub / “Asteria” x Satan Genre: SPICY Romance Rating: Mature +18

Tropes: slow burn, forbidden love, forced proximity, size difference, enemies to lovers, age gap, hurt & comfort, “Who did this to you?”, touch her and 💀

CWs: really possessive behavior, mild yandere, ALL THE SPICE, blood and gore, mentions of death, swearing, hard smut, personally RIP christianity to shreds, mild blood play, toxic people and situations, violence violence VIOLENCE, p in v, power imbalance, light dubcon, CNC (Honestly, just expect so much more down the line cause this story will develop out of control eventually!)

Notes: Reader is female (she/her), multi chapters, LONG posts and very little editing cause I HATE editing. I don’t know how to do TAGS quite yet, but let me know if you want to be notified for each update~

ℙ𝔸ℝ𝕋 𝕀 - 𝕁𝕌𝔻𝔾𝔼𝕄𝔼ℕ𝕋 𝔽𝔸𝕃𝕃 𝕎𝕆ℝ𝔻 ℂ𝕆𝕌ℕ𝕋 - 𝟛𝟙𝟜𝟜 Story continues after the cut ...

Your mission was sealed in ancient oaths, never to be broken. Your goal set and fate was sealed. And after taking the last breath of the cleanest air in the universe … You lept. 

You fell. 

The violent sounds of an invisible storm boxed against your ear drums, and the scent of your searing holy flesh burned a horrible imprint into your own nose and throat. You could taste your own blood and muscles. Your long wings were tucked in tight as an unconscious reaction to the pain, doing their best to buffer your body against the maddening descent you faced. The world around you was set in white flame and blue lightning, a thunderous funnel of your fall from the familiar white clouds of home … and into burning pits far below. Everything hurt, everything burned! You were damned. And more so you, weren’t sure you’d survive the fall.

As you passed into the limits of light into dark, entering the solid void realm between Heaven and Hell, a new level of agony gripped your person. Something shattered in the back of your mind. And then there came a great surge; a pull.

A terrifying scream was pulled from your throat, like one scratching their nails on a slate board, and you felt all the weight of existence try to rip apart your already fracturing soul from any and all orifices it could. Iron viscera streamed from your nose and ears, then out of your mouth like an explosion of red ribbons, and you gagged on the charred, chucky fresh in your mouth. To a holy creature like yourself, a cherub born in Heaven and older than most, there was no difference between your soul and flesh; all was fair game when existence came to collect.

It took you a moment to understand those chunks in your mouth were your own gums being cut apart, making way for fangs to grow from your upper jaw. And your once blunt finger nails cracked and bleed like a lightning struck tree; and from bleeding nail beds grew out long, black talons that ripped right back at exsistance.You gagged on your blood and thrashed your tail about; as if to strike the invisible force assaulting you. It didn’t help much. 

As you continued the struggle, crashing down through the void’s bottom and bursting forth across deep red sky, you felt the final grace of Heaven ripped from your self of being; leaving open wounds on your personhood. You made it, you lived! You had officially fallen and survived … Barely. And with so many unforeseen consequences waiting on the far landscape below, you weren’t sure for how long you’d continue to live once meeting the denizens of Hell. Especially after the last time angels came to “visit”. Adam’s loss left many angelic bodies to eat and you knew the horror stories about the cannibal population. 

As you looked down to the upper layer of Hell, seeing the many buildings set in a massive pentagram, you quickly realized that there was not much space between where you breached Hell’s sky and the quickly approaching ground. And you were falling far too fast and hot to land peacefully. You were a shooting star across their crimson sky and you prayed that you landed where you were supposed to go. Your Patron assured you that, with her own incantations and connections, you would be delivered to Princess Morningstar immediately and with minimal damage. Keyword being minimal, not without. 

It occurred to you then that, if the Princess had no idea you were coming, she could be anywhere doing anything … like taking a shower. Or sleeping. Baking cookies. Or possibly in a meeting with someone important - Like her father. And then, oh hello,a random fallen cherub slams through a roof! This was going to be awkward. And dangerous. But you understood that danger was going to be a constant on this quest, no matter the outcome. 

There was a shove at your back, as if something unseen hand shifted your descent's direction, and you felt your body turn to a rather impressive looking building; set in the middle of a busy city district. It looked like a courthouse? No, a palace? Maybe a mix of the two. Either way, the architecture was intimidating and screamed authority. It could’ve also been a jail, but you had never seen one of those before. Heaven had no need for jails. Maybe a time out corner, but even those were nice and padded with soft chairs. This building was anything but soft - Complete with black spiral towers, barbed fences, and a large lava motte that encircled the estate like a fiery ring. 

Well, whatever it was, that was seemingly where Princess Morningstar was and you were incoming.You frowned and tried to twist your body to better open your wings, unsure if they would be snapped off as you tried to slow your fall. There were two things you noticed immediately about yourself in doing so. 

One: Your once short, rounded, ingenue limbs were gone - Replaced with long, thin arms and even longer legs; with fingers and toes just as lanky. You could see flexing muscles rippling under your once soft skin, and your new heavy bones felt like heavy steel rebar. You were heavy, thick, and cold. 

Two: Your once cute, round snake muzzle was cut blunt. Your face had been squashed inward, taking away your animal features and rearranging your face to be more, weirdly enough, humane. You had a nose, flared nostrils, and your mouth felt too small for all your teeth. 

Your distraction was short lived as a third sight came into view; nothing to do with your body. From below, bursting through a large, stained glass window set into one of the tall walls of the building, exploded a massive burst of fire and light. It looked like an explosion with something rocketing up from the flaming bits of the building. You squinted and saw six large, red wings flared and flapping in your direction. In all your eons of living, you had always known and remembered his wings to be gold … never red. But even in this new coat of colors you still knew who this was; his corrupted, unholy aura was as brilliant as a supernova.

There was no chance to scream out your intentions, to show you were no threat, and to the King of Hell any unknown was surely an instant threat. So, as Lucifer flew directly towards you, all you could do was hold up your arms and brace for impact. Bodies slammed, wings collided, and you felt little arms wrap deadly tight about your back and head; trapping you but also … embracing you. Both of you were sent into an out of control spiral, and in those short seconds before you both made impact with the building’s hard stone floor, your fallen souls connected. 

You blinked and were in a quiet calm space, where dim light floated about your head and your falling ceased. You took a moment to breathe and felt nothing. 

“Alright, okay, cool, two questions!” A chipper, anxious voice called out. “Who are you and what the fuck are you doing?”

You looked to your right and floating next to you, much smaller than you remember him being, was Lucifer; sharing whatever space this was with you. The man was a bit more different then you recalled, and yet some things remained the same. His yellow hair, rosy cheeks, and large eyes were familiar. But his smile had fangs, his scalarias were red, he had a long spade tail, and his halo was gone … replaced with a very large hat and fiery horns.

The Golden Seraphim was gone, and in exchange stood the flashy, ostentatious Ringleader of Hell.

You must’ve not answered his question quick enough and Lucificer glared with a harder, barely friendly smile. “You gonna fucking say something? Anything? Give an explanation?! Or should I just kick your ass right now?” 

“I-!” You stuttered, taken back by how your voice sounded in this otherworldly pocket of existence; quickly collecting yourself as best you could. “Please, d-don’t do that! I don’t wanna hurt anyone.”

“Aaaaaand you expect me to believe that?” He chuckled with a raised sharp brow. “Especially after lots of murderous angel fucks tried to kill my daughter not too long ago … Soooo-?” 

Pointing fingers wasn’t going to save you, even if Adam was rightfully to blame. Because in your inaction at the time, like many who still stood by and had to let Adam descend once more, you were in a way to blame as well. You could’ve stopped it, at least could’ve stood up at the time with Charlie and Emily. But it was only after did you act and seek out the more compassionate Seraphim. 

You had your mission now and it was your part to play in atonement. 

“Emily sent me to be a lesion, a connecting point, between with herself and Princess Morningstar.” You said truthfully, which seemed to take Lucifer by surprise. 

His smile began to sag. “Uhhh, who's that and why?”

“Emily. She’s one of the newer Seraphims that was created after … long after you fell.” You sighed. “She wants to help your daughter save sinners. The Princess’ plan worked as one of your sinners was redeemed. A snake fellow. He showed up in Heaven shortly after the remaining exorcists returned and-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!! Go back!” Lucifer did a rewinding motions with his wiggling fingers. “Heaven wants to help?!”

“N-No, just Emily and me.” You felt your heart ache as Lucifer deflated ever so. “There are still too many up at the top who are fearful of change, especially now with Adam permanently gone. T-They don’t know what this means. None of us do.” 

“But you still came here?”

“I did.”

“Well, shit, that’s … You,” And a cold realization shadowed over the King’s face. “Fell.” 

“I did.” A saddened half smile spread over your lips. “Emily needed a direct connection to Princess Mornmingstar. Heaven’s closed all their doors, locked every window. No messages will be able to get in or out. No calls to meet, no letters, nothing. But given what I am, what my job was before, falling was the best option for communication.”

“Yeah, sure.” Lucifer's light tone was all gone and a frown creased his expression. You knew he had barely any evidence to trust you so you weren’t hurt by his lack of distrust. It was all understandable. “How does that work then?”

“I can explain better once we leave,” You stole glances back out into the space the two of you floated in. “Wherever this is. It’s a pocket dimension?”

“Something like that.” Lucifer sighed and shook his head. “Look, I’m one to love big flashy entrances, fireworks and band music, but you could’ve at least knocked before busting through Hell’s defenses. Those wards were a pain in the ass to make. They took forever!” 

“Erm, Sorry. We weren’t sure what I’d have to fall through to get down here.” You tried to smile but you suddenly felt so very tired. Weighed down. Slowly even. It was as if your body was sinking into sand. Even your head felt heavy and your ears filled with preverbal water. 

“Oh shit, easy there!” Before you could fall over, Lucifer caught you in his thin but mighty arms. “The wards took a shit ton out of you, little lady. Even in this time bubble, you're weakened.” 

“What happens when g-go back to the real world?”

“Weeeell,” Lucifer chuckled with an apologetic smile. “We may or may not land smack-dab in the middle of my daughter’s opening statement to the leading Sins of Hell. In a full courtroom. With it broadcasting across all the rings of Hell. I barely managed to catch you in time and save the entire courtroom from blasting into a crater. Sooo, it’s not gonna be pretty!” 

“I’m s-sorry.” Your eyes began to close and your voice slurred.

He shrugged. “Eh, you can make it up to me later. Bedies, it’s Satan who's gonna be more pissed than anyone else. If there’s one thing he hates more than fallen angels … it’s when his court is interrupted. Just, hold tight-”

Even as your mind began to slip away, you managed to wrap your arms about Lusificer’s shoulders and cling to his white coat. In turn, his own hold on your body was firm and his large crimson wingspan encircled you both like a warm cocoon.

“-And get ready for a lot of ouchies. Cobblestone is fucking awful landing on.” You heard the hesitant playful tone in his voice and couldn’t help but smile.

“I think we’ve both felt worse ouchies than falling on cobblestone, Sir.” 

“Amen to that, Sister.” 

One moment everything was still, calm, and quiet. Then with a violent reminder to reality, you felt Lusificer and yourself slammed hard against a smoldering stone floor and scorching fire erupting from your impact. Splashes of lava and shards of obsession exploded out from where you both landed, followed by a shower of rocky debris that showered over you in a messy, ashy impact cloud. While you were barely conscious, with your ears ringing and your vision spotty, you could hear vague screams of horror and panic. 

Lucifer was on top of you, his wings cushioning your spine, and you could tell one of his beautiful crimson wings was broken by how it felt under your lower back. There was a snap, a crunch, and you dared not move in fear or damage that wing even further. You groaned and tried to reach over your protector; pressing your palm to his back to make sure he was breathing.You sighed of relief at feeling his take a long labored breath. 

“Ouchie.” Lucifer whined.

“Dad!” You heard Princess Morningstar’s shrilled fear as she ran over, followed by many others. 

You didn’t know any of these people, a mix of sinners and natural hellborn peoples, and you didn’t have the conscious mind to try to remember any then and there. And while Lucifer or Charlie didn’t have to trust anything you said or promised to do, that hopeful if not naive side of yourself prayed that they’d at least give you an opportunity to explain it all: About your fall, the mission, and what miracles could be achieved together.

For now, all you could do was lay limp, close your eyes, and let people drag you and Lucifer out from the very big hole you made. You could hear softer voices become distant - More than likely being Charlie and her entourage retreating with Lucifer in tow. Meanwhile, a much closer and louder debate was looming over you.

“I ain’t touchin’ it!” Someone with a nasally, deeply annoying voice shouted; the sounds of bells following behind his exclamation. “We should just fuckin’ kill it!”

“Dude, slow your fucking rolls!” A woman’s voice came next and her accent was slurred in an oddly fun manner. “They are literally passed out!”

“Fuck off, you oversized bimbo bumblebee!” The jingle bell man shouted back. “We all know what that little shit is and how much trouble they are! Fuckin’ Kill. It!” 

“Back the fuck up, Mammon!” A second maculine’s voice spoke out; licked with flames and closer to you in proximity than the first two. “We’re not doing anything until Lucifer is back, alright? So cool it!”

“AH! Eat Shit Oz!!” 

“ENOUGH!!” A fourth and final voice caught your attention in all the chaos, silencing the first three with a deep resonant growl. “I ain’t got the time nor patience to deal with you lot pulling any shit funny right now! So, listen good cause I’m only gonna be sayin’ this once.” 

The baritone figure continued, and his growl was ever present in every word; a hidden threat barely contained by a tight jaw and clenched teeth. “You’re gonna clear all these chuckle-fucks outta my courtroom, get the media under control, and make sure your fuckin’ rings don’t go into a full blown panic. We already had enough to deal with letting our little Princess have her day in court and possibly cause mass hysteria with her wild ideas.”

It was then you felt enormously thick and warm fingers slide under your body and pick you up from the ruined floor; strong, slow, and careful. Or as careful as someone who was apparently a mass of anger and nerve could be. The fingers rolled you into a warm, meaty palm and cupped your aching body against scaly skin. Everything hurt but this was marginally better then just being left to lay on the ground.

“We cannot, and will not, allow whatever this lost little angel was gonna do fuck over today any more then it already is. Asmodeus’ point stands: We wait for Lucifer’s wake.” 

There were soft agreements, with one being a bit more stubborn than the others but he too fell in line. 

“Well, get to it!” The one who spoke, who held you in his impressively large hand, chuffed. “Nothing's gonna get done if we just look at one another.” 

“Uhh, real quick?” The more feminine voice spoke up with mild concern. “You’re not gonna let them be like … naked while we wait, right? Looks like whatever they were before got burned the fuck off.”

“Oh, uhh,” And for the first time in the entire conversation, the one who was holding you sounded immediately out of his element. And you felt your body heat up with a fire that was deftly more than the burning from your shoddy landing. 

“It’s okay dude. I’ll tots have some clothes sent for them in a bit. See about getting them looked over? A doctor couldn’t hurt.”

“Right. Ahem.” He cleared his voice and turned away, and each footfall the man made vibrated your body. You dared to peek open one eye and was met with the blurry visage of a red faced demon-dragon; his head wreathed with four black horns and four yellow eyes looking over his shoulder. “There’s only one prison that can hold an angel in my entire collection. I’ll be waitin’ there.” 

And as your vision grew dark, shapes and faces losing all meaning, you barely managed in time to speak. “T-Thank … you.”

The dragon’s breath was hot as he growled again; half amused. “Don’t you go thankin’ me yet, little star. For the time being I’m your judge and jailor, and you won’t be enjoin’ that too much.”

“I-”

“Quiet.” He huffed. “I ain’t in no mood to talk.” And with no fight left, you slipped into a deep rest. There were no dreams. No fire. No pain. No cold or comfort. Just sleep. Sleep. Sleep.

WELL ... if you made it here, congratulations! You found my random author's note XD Your prize is a magic bag of beans and may or may not take you to a far away magical land~ I've never tried to plant them so your guess is a s good as mine! But yeah, I hope you enjoyed this first part/chapter into this story <3 It's gonna be a wild ride, so if you want to be tagged for the next upload, let me know in the comments!! Also, while I'm gonna be posting this story chronologically, you can still make Satan x reader requests in my DMs as well! HIT ME!! 🫘Thank you, my lovely little beans 🫘

[sourcherrybites]

Can you do Mortal Kombat request for Johhny Cage x Muscular!Fem Reader?

Imagine Johnny sees her muscles is buffer, bulky, toned, bigger, and stronger in-sizes. As he looks so stunned to see her like that

Johnny Cage x Muscular!Fem Reader

Character: Johnny Cage

Disclaimers: Fem! Reader. Muscular! Fem reader. Second person narrator. Ngl I'm imagining reader as Rhea Ripley levels of buffed if not buffer and bigger. Johnny is kind of a bottom because, why not? Also, not a specific Johnny Cage but I imagined MK1! Johnny. English is not my first language. Kinda short but I hope it's enjoyable, if.

Word count: 393

Masterlist

Plz reblog and follow or you'll make me and my doggo sad. Submissions are open, and I'll try to make them as soon as I can, I haven't forgotten about you babes, just have patience. xoxo

Ok, so picture this. He is in the middle of shooting some scenes for his most ambitious project yet, and he's meeting the extras for the first time. The scene is simple, maybe his character is dealing with a militia or someone important who needs bodyguards, and you are there, dressed in baggy, light blue jeans, a white tank top and your hair held in a low ponytail. However, it's barely enough to be a good lord. You're the most majestic, intimidating, and inviting being he's ever seen. He has seen gods, he has fought gods, and maybe even flirted a bit with them, but you look straight out of a Greek myth.

Then you introduce yourself along with the other extras, and he is not listening like... at all. His eyes wander all over you, you're maybe an inch taller than he is, but you look and feel so much bigger, your chest is probably twice the size of his, your arms the side of his head the way your smile is so warm and inviting and your eyes are so sweet, he is completely lost and he knows it, then his manager elbows him in the ribs and he is forced to snap out of it.

"So... uhm. Let's get to work!" He manages to stutter, again, stutter, chuckling a bit and rubbing his hands together, trying to act normal. Johnny Cage does not stutter, but, Oh god, you make him feel so nervous and small he can't help but to. When he sees you trying on your suit, which is a bit too small and your arms just don't fit inside the sleeves of the suit and the buttons of the shirt are only holding on by the grace of our lord Jesus christ and the most resistant thread he's ever seen, and your laugh, husky and bright as the burning sun outside the set, his knees get weak and he has to excuse himself; "I'm thirsty." he claims, but he just need to get out before getting more worked up than he already is.

He is fascinated by you, and he is pretty sure it's going to give him a lot of trouble and maybe, maybe, make him figure some things bout himself he didn't know before, including the fact that he is attracted to women twice his size.

©sourcherrybites 2025

[whittakerjodie]

Anchored (13th Doctor X Reader)

Summary: The Doctor and you find yourselves stuck in an inn during a snowstorm. And oh no! It's soooo cold. And oh no! there's not many blankets! and OH NO... there's not many blankets on the only bed in the room... whatever shall you do?

Words: 3k !

Also posted to AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61201354

It was freezing. Absolutely freezing, and there was no way you were going to walk the odd mile or two back to the TARDIS (wherever the Doctor had parked it, anyway). You told the Doctor this quite sternly as she peered out through the frosted windows of the inn. For the past several minutes, she had been assessing the level of snow falling to the ground. It had started an hour ago, with a trickle that was easy to walk through and, set against the backdrop of the town you had been exploring all day, was quite beautiful. But now the wind was howling, aggressively pushing the snow in all different directions. It was heavy, clearly, as it fell quickly to the ground and seemed to pile up even faster. Despite the Doctor's murmurs about it letting up soon, you knew that the two of you were well and truly stuck in the storm.

The inn was, at the very least, warmer than it was outdoors. It seemed as though the establishment was equally unprepared for such a storm. Staff were rushing about, carrying blankets and wood up the stairs towards the guest rooms. The bottom floor, which operated as a tavern, was mostly empty save for a few grumbling guests and a housekeeper tending to a fireplace across the room. 

"Looks cozy enough. Shouldn't we just stay here for the night?" Seeing the Doctor’s frown, you assured her: “The TARDIS will be fine” 

"Yeah, I suppose you're right," The timelord agreed. She closed the curtains, shutting out the view of the storm. 

You both made your way to the tavern bar, which seemed to double as the front desk for visitors. The housekeeper at the fire perked up and quickly made her way over, her shoulders tense. 

"Hello, what can I do for you?" 

"We'd like a room please!" 

The woman seemed to deflate a little as she looked back at a board with multiple hooks, clearly meant to hold room keys. There was only one left. 

"Well... we don't really have any vacancies, I'm afraid. We have one room left but..." 

"We'll take it!" the Doctor said happily. The woman chuckled. 

"Well, the thing is, it hasn't been reset since the last visitors, and I don't know if we have many blankets, or wood for your fire" 

"We'll take it still," You insisted. If the rooms were upstairs, there was still a chance that the heat from the bottom level would rise up. Or, with how tired you were, you'd fall asleep so quickly you wouldn't even notice the cold for long. The housekeeper nodded and grabbed the key from its hook. 

"Follow me, please" 

You pulled your jacket, which was far too light for the unexpected temperature drop, tighter to your chest as the three of you walked up the stairs. The wood cracked underneath your feet, dim lamps along the walls doing little to help illuminate the steps. 

Upstairs, faint light glowed from underneath the doors to each occupied room, making it easy to tell which was yours. It was at the farthest point of the hall, a ribbon tied around the handle of the large oak door. The housekeeper removed it and stuck it into her pocket, pushing the door open. 

You shivered as you walked into the room. Next to no heat had been brought in due to the door being shut. There was no fire going in the fireplace either and, to your disappointment, no wood set alongside it to start a new one. Being at the end of the building, there was no buffer between the two of the rooms walls and the biting cold outside. The windows were frosted far more than those downstairs, and you could hear them rattling along with the wind. 

"It's lovely!" the Doctor said. The housekeeper looked at her warily. 

"I might be able to find a blanket or two, but I believe we've already given all of the wood we have for now to the other guests" 

As you went to assess the bed for the blankets it already had (and finding none) you paused. The bed. Singular. It wasn't all that surprising, after all it was the only room in the inn left and beggars couldn't be choosers. But it certainly wasn't a large bed, and…

"We'll manage with whatever you have, thank you" We'll manage, the Doctor said. We'll manage, in the room with the singular (and quite small) bed... at least you'd each get your own blanket. Hopefully. You gave the housekeeper a smile as she bowed out of the room, trying to be polite. Why were you so stressed, anyway? It was just one night, and  having to share a bed was far from the worst thing that you could imagine happening on a trip with the Doctor. 

"You alright?" The time lord asked. You jumped a little, and she laughed. "You don't have to be nervous. The inn isn't haunted, I checked" 

The housekeeper returned, this time with a frown and only a small bundle in her hands. 

"I'm really sorry, the other girls have been giving out our blankets to the other guests... I'm afraid we only have one. But it is quite warm!" 

The material in her hands was thin where it lay piled on top of two pillows, casting doubt on her claims. But you weren't going to argue. Clearly, the housekeeper was doing her best, and it was getting quite late. She hurried over to the bed and began making it for you. The Doctor moved to the window to check on the snow's progress and you glanced over her shoulder. The storm had seemingly gotten worse, the intense white flakes blocking out the sight of town. For a moment you considered what the TARDIS might look like when you could eventually leave. Would it be buried in the snow? Would you have to shovel it out, or would it eventually realize you were out for the night and relocate somewhere more accessible?

You double checked for any wood around the room, just in case you and the housekeeper had somehow missed a large pile in the corner. Unsurprisingly, you hadn’t.  It was quite a nice room, save for the lack of warmth. Without much light, you had to squint to take in the books and pictures along the wall. The housekeeper shut the door behind her and you turned back towards the bed. The Doctor gestured towards it. 

"You can go ahead! I've got..." with her other hand, she was digging into her coat pocket. "Things I can work on." 

You blinked, and then nodded and climbed underneath the blanket. The bed was hard underneath you, its material clearly doing little to keep the heat in. Perhaps the Doctor could have the bed and you could sleep on the floor; both were likely equal in discomfort. The Doctor sat on the floor as you pulled the blanket to your chest. It was indeed quite thin and you could only hope that it would do the bare minimum of keeping your body heat close to you. 

You shut your eyes, taking a deep breath. The faster you fell asleep, the faster you would forget all about the freezing cold room, and the faster you would make it back to the TARDIS. That warm, wonderful space-time machine. With its comforting orange lights, the temperature that always seemed to be perfect, its beeps and hummings that reminded you how alive it was. There was always a fire lit in the library, where you often found yourself accidentally falling asleep. Maybe you could imagine yourself there, curled up on the couch. The firelight would dance behind your eyelids, keeping you in that liminal space between consciousness and sleep, just aware enough to marvel about how cozy you were. 

Your eyes opened to the cold, dark room. The vivid recollections of a far warmer and pleasant environment weren’t helping you adjust to your current reality. It was impossible to hug the blanket any closer to you, as you had already curled into a ball around it, tucking it underneath you where you could. Despite your feeble attempts, your skin still prickled as the cold seeped through it and into your bones. 

At the foot of the bed, the Doctor appeared to be tinkering with something. Along with the whispering under her breath, there was a small symphony of clicks and whirrs. 

"Not sleepy?" She asked. 

"It's freezing .” The words came out in a cross between a hiss and a whimper, and the Doctor gave you an apologetic look. Standing from the floor, she began to shrug off her coat. 

"No, no," you insisted quickly. Making the moves to sit up and stop her, the blanket fell from your shoulders and you winced as the little heat you'd managed to trap escaped. You groaned.  "You need that. You must be freezing too." 

"It's not that bad, actually," She said with a shrug. "I've got some fancy tricks of my own. Sure, the coat has a heating mechanism, but it's been broken for some time. Anyway, since it's been broken I've just been making sure to store my body heat!" 

"... You can do that?" You asked. 

"Yes!" 

" Like a seal? " The question had come out before you could think to ask a much better question, like 'how?' 

The Doctor laughed. "I'm not supposed to do it too much, mind you, typically my body heat would be much lower than yours. But it can fluctuate if needed. So I'll be alright, you take the coat." 

She shrugged it off of her shoulders, exposing her dark red sweater, still adored with her signature rainbow stripes. You could just see the colors faintly in the dark. Memory filled well supported by your gazes throughout the day. And most other days. 

"But how long can it last?" We'll be here all night... maybe we should just go back downstairs." 

"You need to get some sleep” 

"But what about you?"

"I can keep busy!" She revealed the small gadget she had been working on. Its surface was littered with wires and buttons, none of which made the object's purpose obvious. You frowned and eased back down on the mattress, pulling the blanket back over you. 

As you reached to spread her coat on top of it, your hand brushed the Doctors. You tensed and quickly shoved your hand back underneath the blanket.  It was surely a small gasp, and not a yelp, that escaped you. At least, that was what you were really hoping. 

The time lord gathered the top of her coat into her hands and spread the garment out so that it covered most of your body. It added some warmth. But it wasn’t as noticeable as the small warmth that had passed between skin, where the two of you had touched so briefly. 

"There," the Doctor said softly. "Hopefully that helps." Her voice was quieter, small clouds appearing in the air. Her breath left a ghostly trail as she exhaled deeply and returned to her spot on the floor. 

In her absence, you certainly felt warmer. But it wasn't throughout your body, where you now had two shields protecting you from the lower temperature. It was in your face, your ears, your neck. It pooled in the same small spot of your hand where you had felt some of the body heat she had been storing underneath rough skin. Within hands that you had held before, hands that you had watched move and tinker and grasp time and time again. The warmth was in your chest, where your heart beat faster.

The bed creaked in protest as you hurriedly flopped over onto your side. It was just your body trying to warm what parts of it remained uncovered, you reassured yourself. And maybe it was trying to get used to the overwhelming scent of oil and wind and fire the timelord's coat was bathed in. Yes, that was it. Just an adjustment of the senses, a vessel working overtime to keep you going and getting overwhelmed with new input. This theory was supported by the questions and thoughts that raced through your mind. Was it just her coat that was so warm, that it smelled as it did? Or was it her, too? If she wasn't on the floor, messing about with her project, if instead she was in the be-

"I have an idea" The Doctor said suddenly. You jumped again, and she looked. For a moment you could swear that, before they met yours, her eyes moved across her long coat where it lay on top of you. 

"Yeah?" you whispered. She set her gadget aside. 

"We still have about 8 hours until morning, and who knows how long until this snow stops. I can preserve heat for a while, but it'll fade over time. And I don't need it as much as you do." 

"What do you mean?" 

The Doctor was quiet for a moment. "If you're still quite cold, well... only if you're absolutely comfortable, we could..." 

You clutched the blanket a little bit tighter, holding your breath. Your question seemed unnecessary. It was clear what she was suggesting. But there was a need to confirm it, prove that you weren’t filling in too many blanks with your longing. 

"Well, if I'm under the blanket then my body heat might help keep you warm" Taking a deep breath, you tried to collect yourself so that your voice would remain even. 

“I suppose that makes sense,” Her idea was only logical. Just logical, surely. 

The Doctor moved towards you and you scooted over as much as you could, shivering as you lifted the other side of the blanket for her. She climbed underneath it, the bed dipping under her weight. With the bed being so small, the new incline pushed you toward her nonetheless. It leveled out as the Doctor laid down. Your body tensed as the Doctor reached over you to smooth down the coat and blanket. Near your shoulders she tucked the fabric underneath you as much as she could. 

"Is this alright?" You stared up at her. She was leaning right above you, her face and chest close to your own. When she spoke, the small puffs of air met your cheeks, which were now blazing hot. To your dismay, her hand moved from your shoulder to rest against your forehead, then your cheek, where it stayed. "Oh good, you're feeling warmer already!" 

Your lips remained parted, but unmoving. There was no breath to push any words past them, as it had all caught in your chest. The Doctor remained there for a moment, then eased underneath the coverings. You swallowed and let out a shaky breath. It was certainly an improvement from before. T he entire left side of your body was pressed against hers, pulling some of her warmth into you. Your right side was still colder, and you grabbed your left arm in an attempt to level out the heat. Hopefully the moonlight didn't reach far enough to let the Doctor see your face. It took advantage of the new warmth you had been given and burned through it. The timelord was quiet, but you could hear her slow breathing. What about yours? Could she hear how quick it was, trailing just behind the beating of your heart? 

It wasn't the first time the two of you had been close. Hugs here and there, pushing through tight quarters of some alleyway or spaceship maintenance tunnel. But this was different. If you moved just slightly you would be in her arms completely. You didn't trust yourself not to shift in the middle of the night. There wasn't anywhere else for your body to move but onto the floor. 

With how warm your left side was, your right ached for the same level of care. How bad would it be, really, to give it what it needed? 

"C'mere," the Doctor murmured. She reached for your right side again, this time underneath the covers, and gently pulled at you. You followed her lead and, with ease, turned so that you were on your side and resting against her. Bracing yourself for more contact, your body instead melted into her warmth. Involuntarily, you sighed with relief. 

The Doctor's arm remained stretched over you, and she shifted her leg so that it tangled with yours near your ankles. You inched even closer, letting your right arm move over her side so that your front could press against hers. 

"Better?" She asked. You didn't dare look up to speak to her. If you did, you were sure your faces would be millimeters away. Surely then she would feel how quickly your breath moved. Embarrassed, you realized she would already be able to feel the movement of your shoulders. You faked a shudder, trying to command your body to seem more bothered by the temperature change than its proximity to the Doctors. 

"Much better, thank you." 

"Get some sleep, alright?" You nodded against her chest, where her own hearts were beating in a quick rhythm. Her chin rested against the crown of your head, firmly tucking you into her. 

You shut out the dark, cold room surrounding you and focused all of your senses on the timelord. The smell of her coat combined with the light scent of sandalwood across the skin of her chest and throat. Her breath sounded calm, contrasting her heartbeats. Her sweater was a wool texture that tickled your skin slightly. It was eased by the softer fabric of the blanket.  

The vivid images of the TARDIS were much easier to imagine when you lay in her pilot's arms. But you had no need for imagining now. This was real, vivid, all around and against you. You were just fine where you were, anchored to the timelord until the sun returned to the sky. 

[gamesetattach]

The Blind Leading the Blind

Jannik Sinner x Reader One of the worst blind, double dates to date, and that's saying something... but you might've bagged Jannik Sinner because of it, so it all levels out. Warnings include feminine-presenting reader, female side character with a nerfed personality (so sorry, I love women!), unwanted physical contact (touches, hugs, etc.)... lmk if there's any more!!

The restaurant buzzed with the kind of energy only Monaco could produce—luxurious, high-priced, and full of people who seemed to have just stepped out of glossy magazines. If the country's facilities weren't so convenient for your drivers, you'd never have chosen the area to begin with.

You adjusted your dress, feeling slightly out of place as you entered the private dining room to face this blind double date arranged by work friends. It wasn’t your idea, but after some persistent nudging from your co-workers you conceded. Your tight knit team of data analysts at Williams AMG spent maybe too much time together, and meddling with the love life of their youngest and most single hire seemed to be one of their favorite distractions.

The setup sounded harmless enough: two sets of pairs, good food, and decent conversation. The other couple there would at least serve as a buffer if you didn't hit things off with your own date, you rationalized. What could go wrong?

---

You spotted the group almost immediately. You assess your presumed date, Julien, as you make your way over. Classicly handsome and visibly built, he had one arm lazily draped over the empty chair beside him and an ankle rested on the thigh of his too-tight pant. At the sight of your approach, the only move he made was the obnoxious widening of his already smug grin. You swore you could see the arrogance glint off his eyes from across the room and as you talked yourself into keeping an open mind, you couldn't help but brace yourself.

Across from him, Jannik Sinner—yes the professional tennis player, thanks to the involvement of one Carlos Sainz Jr.—sat beside his date, a woman who exuded disinterest from every limb of her body. You felt an instant wave of sympathy for him. This was going to be a long night.

“[Your Name], right?” Julien asked, greeting you with a smile that felt more predatory than welcoming.

“That’s me,” you replied, forcing a polite smile as he kissed your cheek though his hot breath lingered too close for a second too long. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” he said, motioning for you to sit beside him. “You’re even more stunning than I was told.”

You glanced at Jannik and his date as you sat, rushing out an introduction before being interrupted by Julien. His eyes met yours, and there was a flicker of something in his expression—sympathy, perhaps? His date, Margaux, didn’t seem to notice your arrival; she was busy scrolling through her phone off the corner of the table.

---

The first course was served, and the conversation quickly went from dull unbearable. Julien dominated the dialogue as he launched into a monologue after monologue about his accomplishments, barely pausing to breathe, let alone ask you anything about yourself. When you did manage to mention your job in motorsport, his response was a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Ah, motorsport. All that noise and fuss over cars going in circles,” he said, chuckling. “Not exactly my scene, but I’m sure it’s… entertaining. There's money there, that's for sure.”

You debated responding, but Jannik’s voice cut in for the first time all night.

“Actually, F1 is fascinating,” he said, his tone polite but firm. “The strategy, the engineering… it’s incredible what they can achieve.”

You shot him a grateful look, and he gave you a small, knowing nod in return.

Margaux sighed dramatically. “Tennis and motorsport. Two things I can only barely pretend to feel excited about.” She took a sip of her wine, not even glancing at Jannik. “Don't you ever get bored of hitting a ball back and forth?”

Jannik’s jaw flexed, but his response was diplomatic. “Not really. It can seem that way, yes, but there's more to it than just hitting the ball.”

“If you say so,” she replied, her tone dripping with boredom.

Your eyes met Jannik’s again, and this time, his gaze seemed to say, “Can you believe this?” You bit back a smile, and offered him a subtle lift of your wine glass.

As the evening dragged on, Julien became more insufferable. He leaned closer every time he spoke, his hand brushing against your arm or shoulder under the guise of emphasizing a point. By the time dessert arrived, you were actively leaning away from him, your discomfort clear.

Even with all your efforts to remain composed, you knew Jannik was monitoring your reactions. When Julien reached out to wrap around your shoulders and pull you closer for the third time, Jannik smoothly interrupted.

“Hey, Julien,” he said, his voice light but with an edge. “Didn’t you say you had some big project coming up? I’m sure [Your Name] would love to hear about it.”

Julien, distracted by the opportunity to talk about himself, withdrew his hand and went into yet another self-promoting story. You shot Jannik another grateful look, mouthing, “Thank you.” He gave a small shrug, as if to say, “Anytime.”

---

Finally, the night came to an end. Julien insisted on walking you home, but you quickly made an excuse about needing to run some boring and long, night errand first. Jannik, overhearing Julien's persistence, spoke up.

“I’m heading the same way, I uh- I have the same errand,” he said, standing and grabbing his coat. “We can walk together.”

Julien hesitated, clearly displeased, and you thought you spied Margaux already halfway out the door, not even bothering to say goodbye.

“Sure,” Julien said, his smile forced as he gave you another squeeze at the waist. “Next time, then.”

You nodded politely before twisting out of his grasp, and Jannik followed your escape into the cool Monte Carlo night.

The walk was quiet at first, the tension of the evening still lingering. But as soon as you were far enough from the restaurant, you both burst out laughing. It was an an uncontrollable fit that came in waves, both of you doubled over clutching each other. And it seemed every time you'd slow for air, you'd lock eyes and start laughing all over again.

“That was unreal” you finally managed, wiping a tear from your eye.

“The absolute worst,” Jannik agreed, his own laughter fading into a warm smile. “I’ve had bad dates before, but that… wow.”

“Marguax was just so welcoming,” you said sarcastically.

“And Julien?” Jannik asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, a total catch,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “I’m honestly counting down the seconds until he calls me again.”

Jannik chuckled. “You played it off well, though. I thought you were going to throw your drink at him at one point.”

“Oh, I was tempted,” you said, grinning. "I think I would have if you hadn't stepped in."

There was a lull then, the residual laughter mellowing out into something softer. Jannik looked at you, his expression thoughtful.

“You know,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I feel the night would’ve been a lot better if it had just been the two of us.”

You stopped walking, turning to face him. “Well... we can make that happen,” you said, your heart skipping a beat.

His smile widened, a hint of relief and excitement in his eyes. “How about tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow sounds perfect,” you replied.

And you continued walking, maybe slower than you needed to, the damage of the double date already a distant and funny memory, replaced by the promise of something far better.

[syndrossi]

Buffer Bonanza #1 Results

Well, it's been a month since I aimed for 1K/day in an attempt to build up the buffer. Chapter 36 insisted on resisting me at every turn, so it was slow going for a while. Here's how things shook out:

Total words written: 17K Actual chapter words written: 12,320 Cut scenes (words): 2.5K Deferred scenes (words): 2K Chapters completed: 2

We have a buffer! I think I'm gonna try another 1K/day for 30 days now that we're past the incredibly painful opening of chapter 36. I'm sure I can do better than 17K/30K!

Chapters 36 and 37 both weigh in at slightly over 6K apiece, though they'll doubtless go up a few hundred in edits. The plan is for ch36 to to go up on May 18, aka the one-year anniversary of Resonant's first chapter being posted.

Behind the cut for those who want to avoid (very mild) spoilers, a tiny snippet from ch37.

Daemon unraveled the pieces one by one, pleased to find that the goldsmith who had been tasked with turning his sketches of their respective dragons into jeweled renditions had captured their essence perfectly. Caraxes had been set into gold, red ruby interspersed with another, brighter red gem representing his scales, while bright orange topaz marked his eyes. “He’s beautiful,” Rhaegar said, finger moving lightly to trace the piece. He then hopped onto the wooden crate, putting him level to Daemon so that he could unpin his current brooch, a simpler silver disc inset with their sigil, and affix the new one. “More beautiful than Caraxes himself,” Jon said with an impish smile. Daemon ruffled a hand through his son’s hair, as he had seen Laenor do, and was rewarded with a wide grin before Jon ducked out of the way to comb it back into order. Daemon unwrapped the next brooch. “Your turn.”