#our brains are so aligned right now

[meownotgood]

Hear me out please,,,

Imagine a control devil Aki, hypnotic spiral blue eyes perhaps and maybe,,, maybe reader being this version of csm but Aki isn't after pochita, no he wants you

He sees through you and he knows he wants to keep you as his personal pet. He's so serious at the workplace but to you he's such a sweetheart,, he loves you so much his pretty little pet

He doesn't need a silly little leash and collar to let you know your his, his handprint on your wrist from those nights he claimed you, the bites on your neck and just his smell all over you alone let's you know that you're under his control

I'M ACTUALLY SO GLAD YOU BROUGHT THIS UP BECAUSE I WAS THINKING OF CONTROL DEVIL AKI A FEW MONTHS AGO AND NOW I CAN RAMBLE ABOUT IT

aki who is the control devil and head of division four instead of makima.... aaah with the cool spiral blue eyes, and I also imagine him wearing the trench coat and loafers that makima has, maybe a more formal hairstyle too, like half-up and half-down ponytail. thinking of him with makima's powers, like when she squished people in the shrine scene.... his large hands...

I feel like control devil aki would be just as intimidating as makima, but he still clearly has a softer side underneath all his coldness. and he still has a strong sense of justice, so he only uses his power on those he thinks deserve it. he doesn't really need to use his powers to control people anyways, because his appearance and his status as the division's lieutenant is usually enough to get him what he wants.

and that brings him to you. you're so easy to please, so loyal to him to a fault. you're always so obedient, you listen to every command he gives you without asking twice. you're someone he's found to be worthy of his protection, and worthy of being his pet.

[prettieinpink]

ESTABLISHING YOUR ROUTINE

A routine is essential for us to become the best versions of ourselves, but for us to fully commit to a routine, it has to be aligned with our needs and values.

hehe trying out a different aesthetic 😚😚

FIGURE OUT WHAT NEEDS TO BE DONE DAILY. This isn’t what your to-do list currently looks like, but rather how you want your to-list to look like. If you can’t think of anything right now, carry a small notebook or open your notes app during the day to take notes of anything you may want to add to your routine.

BREAK THOSE TASKS INTO SMALLER ONES. This helps us to see more clearly in our routine and helps to make our tasks or goals easier to achieve. E.g. Avoid saying ‘study time’ but say flashcards and re-reading notes.

SET GOALS. This can be daily, weekly, monthly and so on. Just have those little habits in your routines that help you advance to reach your goals. This also helps with our motivation throughout the day.

STRUCTURE YOUR DAY EFFICENTLY. If you have a day where there are no urgent or important tasks to be done, use it to take notes on how you feel throughout. Document the times when you feel the most productive, energised, social and tired. Using this information, divide your tasks into the times that suit each other.

ALLOW FOR FREE TIME BLOCKS IN YOUR DAY. One, for just allowing some time for your brain and body to just chill. Two, just so if anything comes up, you have a free window of time to do it.

TEST YOUR ROUTINE AND MAKE ADJUSTMENTS. Throughout the day, ask yourself; ‘how does my routine make me feel?’ and ‘What tasks do I dread, and what do I look the most forward to?’ If need to be, make any changes.

BE CONSISTENT. This is the only way for a routine to be solid in your life, to do them at the same time every day. This tip sounds mundane, but you can always change it up a little. E.g. Listen to different podcasts or audiobooks every time you go out for your walks.

PREPARE FOR YOUR ROUTINE. Allow your environment to encourage anything you want to add to your routine, for example, if you want to do yoga in the morning, leave your yoga mat in front of your bed where you can see it.

INCLUDE BREAKS, FOOD AND EXERCISE. Resting, eating well and moderate exercise help us to be more productive in the day, and to complete our tasks to higher standards.

KEEP TRACK OF YOUR PROGRESS. See which habits you’re more inclined to do, and which ones you usually avoid. Sometimes, some habits just aren’t meant for us, and that’s okay.

FORGIVE YOURSELF FOR NOT COMMITTING. It’s okay, you’re going to have days when your routine is the least ideal. Don’t beat yourself up for it, instead try to at least accomplish one task that’s a part of your routine.

MAKE IT ENJOYABLE. Your routine isn’t something to punish you, but rather something that helps you to keep an orderly life. It should be something that you’re at least willing to do.

Some ways to make it fun: Listen to music while you do tasks, romanticise your routine as much as possible, include rewards for anything productive and try to involve your loved ones.

[icanseethefuture333]

Celestial alignment: Pick a pattern in the sky

Messages to realign you with your soul path

Pile 1:

Shufflemancy -

Replay by Lady Gaga

JMK by Sango ft. Xavier Omar

Dog Days Are Over by Florence + The Machine

Ten of Wands, Eight of Cups, The Magician, The World, & Three of Cups

There is a call for you to let go of thoughts that are holding you back. There is something about repetition here that is preventing you from progressing into the next chapter of your life. You could be taking on the burdens of other people as a way to help them. Your guides are urging you to please stop. You are constantly making sacrifices for others when they aren't doing this for you. Your lesson right now is to focus on making yourself the top priority. You are always putting yourself on the back burner. Some people here take care of their family members or work in the medical field. It's understandable to be worried and to care for your loved ones or other people, but who's be concerned about you? Who is making sure that you are alright or have what you need? If nobody is there for you, then you have to be there for yourself. Start making goals or a list of things you wish to accomplish. You need to realize you are worthy and deserving of what you desire, start dreaming again, pile 1. The universe is waiting and ready for your call and demand. Once you have faith in yourself, the universe will be ready to make your dreams come true. A journey of peace, abundance, and celebrations will be coming your way soon.

Summary:

Change your thoughts & way of thinking.

Practice mindfulness & work on releasing limiting beliefs.

Learn how to include self care in your daily routine

Set boundaries

Think about what your goals or dream are

Make a list or a vision board

Research information on manifestation or spirituality that aligns with your beliefs

Pile 2:

Shufflemancy -

Bruises by Kelela

Brain by Mariah the Scientist

Omega by SAAY

Seven of Wands, King of Wands, Wheel of Fortune, The Aeon (Judgement), & Nine of Pentacles

This pile gave me goosebumps when shuffling - You have a very intense aura and strong presence, pile 2! Something about having to "fight" or the "brain" being significant. I'm reminded of this wounded emoji: 🤕. You could suffer from past trauma or have a mental disorder. I had to rewrite for this pile because it didn't save and I felt so frustrated having to write for this pile again, but it made me realize that this is possibly how you feel in life. You are constantly having to work with difficult circumstances without seeing any progress of the outcome. There were a lot of struggles that you had overcome and I am reminded of movie The Truman Show. His entire life was just programmed for him and he was forced to live a life he didn't want for the entertainment of others just so they could have a TV Show to watch. So I feel like people found joy in your misfortune and suffering, which I am terribly sorry for. The thing is though that was in the past and you don't have to deal with these people anymore. You don't have to pretend to be this character that obviously doesn't resonate with you. You can create an entirely new life, new self concept, new everything for yourself. Think of who you want to be as an individual, not what other people have labeled you as or want you to be. You have to start realizing that you are free to do as you please. Life can be like a simulation and we could all be considered avatars, but we don't realize is that we are able to customize our reality in anyway we wish. You have the inner strength and passion but you are just stuck in this survival mode that is not serving you anymore. It is time for you to move on and your spirit guides are being stern with me right now but they're saying "take this shit seriously". If you have a dream or goal you know you wanna do, take action and stop complaining. Stop with the excuses, the self pity, and the martyr complex. Once you start asking the universe for help is when you can start to achieve your dreams. "It's like clockwork". I am seeing that you feel that you're running out of time in life to accomplish your goals but I am reminded of Maddy from Euphoria when she said "Don't worry, this is only just the beginning". Your "shift" or soul purpose has only just begun and time is ticking for real now. I am getting a vision of someone holding a bright lantern in a dark cave and they are like making a come hither motion with their hands. So I believe this is the universe and your guides saying if you need guidance and you are unsure what to do or where to go or how to even begin the project you wish to work on - Ask them. Once you start asking the universe for help shit is going to change in your life dramatically because your purpose is very significant and it is going to be for the better of society but you have to stop being in your ego and acting stubborn because it is not helping you or anyone else for that matter. I'm not saying you have to be some sort of holy messiah or the rebirth of Jesus Christ himself, but you are going to be someone who will make a difference in this world. As you embark on this journey, it is crucial that you pay attention to the signs the universe or spirit gives you. It is okay if you make mistakes but you have to be careful and aware of people or vices that will sabotage you in the end. So listen to your intuition and notice those gut feelings. I feel like people will be giving you your flowers in the future, that could mean you will be someone who has a certain level of status, or this means people will show appreciation or gratitude for your benevolence and charity. You have this gift or tool that the universe has blessed you with and you have to utilize it for the good will of others.

This is a powerful message I channeled from spirit: "Others who have begun early are merely the matches that were chosen out of indulgence, for candles & waxes, the faster they burn, the quicker their ashes will fall. The last one to be picked, is the match that is the resource for those in need of hope and warmth when faced with the darkness."

Summary:

Use your intuition

Release the version of yourself that is no longer serving you

Embrace change & endings

The end of a chapter means a new beginning

Rely on your inner strength & wisdom

Ask for guidance

Focus on what it is meant for you

"All that glitters isn't gold"

Pile 3:

Shufflemancy -

Lemon by N.E.R.D ft. Rihanna

Starface* by Jean Dawson

Screen Time by Epik High ft. HOSHI

The Tower, Four of Pentacles (reversed), Three of Wands, The Sun, & Four of Wands

The pile's energy instantly chirped me up and made so happy! Its interesting how the piles are always so unique in their own way. You could have been or are currently in denial with your circumstances. It reminds me of Hey Ya! by Outkast. Go take a look at that music video or listen to the song if you're unfamiliar with it. It's a fun happy song, but the meaning of the lyrics are actually quite depressing. You could have this mindset of: "Y'all don't wanna hear me you just wanna dance!". You could be someone who is pessimistic and a downer, always wanting to look at things from a more "realistic" perspective. Although, your spirit guides are asking you to actually change this way of thinking. I actually see that you have a really bright and energizing aura! You could be really funny, pile 3! Your purpose could align with having a good sense of humor or being a source of hope and optimism for others. You could be interested in working in the entertainment field. Once you get past this, you will realize how much fun life can actually be! Your past challenges could also be viewed from a more positive standpoint. For example, the situation might have been unfortunate, but did you learn anything valuable? Or was there any positive outcomes because of that said situation. Reflect on your life experiences and lessons to see where the universe actually might have helped you dodge a bullet or blessed you with protection or love. You could also attract new people into your life who will make you feel a sense of joy and gratitude. This pile just reminds me of a fun summer day, where people eat watermelon or have fun at the pool. Another song I'm channeling is Summertime by DJ Jazzy Jeff & Will Smith. You will be celebrating and having a good time with your loved ones in the future soon. I believe honestly your path for now is to focus on happiness and sharing love and light with others!

Summary:

Have fun!

Make jokes that uplift people's energy

Focus on the good vs dwelling in negativity

Try to make someone laugh or smile!

Make plans for the summer

Hang out with your friends or spend time with family

Your past struggles are why you're still here. You overcame a great deal and should be proud of yourself!

[nenelonomh]

microhabits for a better life

microhabits are small, everyday behaviours that compound over time and can lead to significant changes. these tiny actions, which can take as little as 15 seconds, require minimal effort but yield substantial benefits when practised consistently. by focusing on microhabits, you break down ambitious goals into manageable steps that you build over extended periods.

microhabits work due to several psychological and behavioural factors. let's explore why they're effective:

microhabits have minimal barriers to entry. they’re so small that you can easily start them without much effort or resistance. for instance, doing one push-up or writing a single sentence in your journal requires very little activation energy.

consistently practising microhabits builds momentum over time. when you perform a tiny action daily, it reinforces positive behaviour and creates a sense of accomplishment. this consistency helps you stay on track toward your larger goals.

neuroplasticity! our brains adapt to repeated behaviours. by consistently practising microhabits, you strengthen neural pathways associated with those actions. over time, these pathways become more automatic, making it easier to maintain the habit.

microhabits shape your self-image. when you consistently label yourself as someone who meditates for a minute each day or reads a page before bed, it reinforces that identity. you’re more likely to continue the behaviour because it aligns with who you believe you are.

celebrating small victories boosts motivation. completing a microhabit provides a sense of achievement, even if it’s minor. these wins encourage you to keep going and build positive associations with the habit.

when establishing microhabits, it's essential to be aware of potential pitfalls. here are some common ones to watch out for:

setting unrealistic expectations: starting with overly ambitious microhabits can lead to frustration. instead, choose tiny actions that you can consistently perform without feeling overwhelmed.

skipping counting or accountability: not tracking your progress can hinder success. use a simple system (like a checklist or app) to monitor your daily microhabit completion. accountability helps maintain consistency.

neglecting consistency: microhabits rely on daily repetition. skipping days disrupts the habit-building process. even if you’re tired or busy, commit to your tiny actions consistently.

lack of trigger or cue: without a clear trigger, it’s easy to forget your microhabit. associate it with an existing routine (e.g., after brushing your teeth) to create a cue.

not celebrating small wins: acknowledge each successful completion. celebrate these small victories to reinforce positive associations with the habit.

changing too many habits simultaneously:  focus on one microhabit at a time. trying to establish multiple habits simultaneously can lead to overwhelm and decreased adherence.

staying motivated to maintain microhabits can be challenging, but here are some strategies to help you stay on track:

visual reminders: place visual cues in your environment. for instance, if you want to drink more water, keep a water bottle on your desk as a reminder.

pair with existing habits: attach your microhabit to an existing routine. for example, if you want to stretch daily, do it right after brushing your teeth in the morning.

track progress: use a habit-tracking app or a simple calendar. mark each day you complete your microhabit. seeing your streak grow can be motivating.

accountability: share your microhabits with a friend or family member. having someone to check in with can boost motivation.

set clear goals: define specific goals for your microhabits. for instance, instead of “exercise more,” set a goal like “walk for 5 minutes daily.”

reflect on benefits: regularly remind yourself why you started. reflect on the positive impact these small actions will have over time.

the best time to start a new microhabit is now! seriously, don't wait for a specific moment. begin with a small action that aligns with your goal, and let consistency work its magic. whether it’s right after waking up, during lunch, or before bed, the key is to start and keep going. 

the time it takes to form a microhabit can vary, but research suggests that consistency over an extended period is crucial. on average, it may take around 66 days for a behaviour to become automatic and habitual. however, individual factors, such as motivation, context, and the complexity of the habit, play a role.

here are some examples of successful microhabits:

drink a glass of water when you wake up

take five deep breaths before starting work

stretch or do yoga for five minutes every morning

clean off the top of your desk before leaving your room

meditate for just five minutes

create a list before grocery shopping

learn something new each day

use affirmations, or visualisation to boost your mindset

further reading: Focus on “Microhabits” to Change Your Behavior (hbr.org) How Micro Habits Can Change Your Life & 50 Micro Habit Ideas (simplifycreateinspire.com) Micro Habits: The Secret to Achieving Your Goals (behealthful.io) Microhabits: Small-but-Mighty Catalysts for Change — Blog | Jody Michael Associates

i hope today's post was helpful! ❤️ nene

image source: pinterest

[batwritings]

Sorry if im requesting too much, im just obsessed with your works jehdhdvudvsudvsj

How about dragon!Price with a crow!reader? I’ve seen a lot of people making him a dragon, and crows tend to have the same shiny-hoarding thing going on, so it’s kind of a match made in heaven. Maybe things really kick off when Price’s shedding his scales while our crow reader is getting a lot of nesting urges, causing the reader to take a couple of the shiny scales for her nest. Eventually, when her heat arrives, she realizes her mistake. Her nest smells so much like Price, it’s unbearable.

Sure, they had always been pretty close, due to him being her captain and their tendencies to gift each other shiny items, but this was a bit different. At some point, Price goes ahead and checks on his lovely crow friend. While he’s expecting to just stop by to see how she’s incorporated his scales into the inner workings of her nest, he ends up staying for longer than anticipated..

-Hybrid

Okay but this is such a cute concept. Putting the horny brain aside, I can just see you and Price exchanging or comparing shiny stuff that you found on missions or on shore leave at least once a week. Ugh, too cute! Enjoy!~

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

You and Price had always had this sort of deal as it were. Your respective species both had an affinity for shiny objects, your captain being a dragon and hording the stuff and you as a crow, just doing it because...well, you could! It was always intriguing to see the different things the both of you would bring to the table after a long away mission.

You weren't entirely sure when you started doing it, but it took a little longer than you would like to realize the consequences to your actions. See, your dear captain had to shed his scales every once in again, their beautiful bronze catching in the light that really sparked a fondness to your one-track crow brain. And with your nest coming together a little disappointingly, you figured they'd be an excellent addition. Not like Price would miss them, he still had plenty to go around.

Yet as your heat grew closer and closer, you couldn't help but get your mind off the familiar and comforting smell of cigars and gunpowder. It was only when you woke up one more, your body deep within your mating cycle that you realized it. You needed your Captain, and you needed him now.

Thankfully for you, from being around you so frequently, Price seemed to be very well aware of when something wasn't quite right with you. Any time you had seemed remotely off, it was as if your captain had a bit of a sixth sense. So you shouldn't have been surprised to hear the couple solid knocks on your barrack door before it opened with a quiet squeak.

"Y/N? You alright?" the man called, voice low in case he was disturbing you. Your whine in response did nothing to assuage his fears, causing the dragon to burst in a little further. "Hey now what's--"

The man stopped in his tracks when he caught onto your scent. "You've started your heat," he mumbled, more to himself than to you, who was painfully aware. "Oh love, why didn't you say something?" He's quick to approach your nest, bright eyes flicking between you and the mess of blankets, pillows, and other shiny things including his scales.

"John...!~" You whimper, wings fluttering in irritation as you push yourself up onto your knees. Price takes the hint, stepping gingerly into your nest, making himself a spot behind you. He covers you, bringing your hips back so they align with his. His wings create a sort of barrier, as if he was trying to shield you from the world.

"I've got you sweetheart, I've got you," the dragon coos, helping your deft hands to slip down your sleep shorts and underwear. The heady scent that follows from your sex being on display earns a low growl as his member twitches eagerly beneath grey sweats. He's quick to pull his cock free, rubbing it along your cunt to soak it in your slick.

"Sing for me love," Price huffs, slowly sliding inside you. You moan so beautifully for him, reveling in the lovely way he fills and stretches you, the way his claws prick at your skin as they hold you in place so as not to hurt you with rushing the penetration. All the while, your captain is littering you in praise, breathing heavier now as he bottoms out inside you.

It doesn't take more than a few desperate chirps and coos from you to urge him to fuck you in earnest. To say the Brit had been wanting this for some time now would be a great understatement. So to be able to finally have you, take you, claim you, made this so much more tempting.

His hips stutter to a halt when you finally reach your climax, claws trailing over the spot where your gorgeous ebony wings meet your shoulders. You shudder and moan under Price's ministrations, trilling when you feel his claws against your skin and feathers. "Feeling better love?" The dragon rumbles, kissing sweetly at the back of your neck.

You nod breathlessly, hand reaching back to rub where you could of his skin in thanks. "How'd you know to find me here?" You ask, still a little amazed at this ability your captain had. The man only chuckles lowly.

"Well I was wondering where my scales had been disappearing to."

[withleeknow]

wishful thinking. (05)

chapter five: say what you mean

summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres/warnings: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut; mentions of sex, kissing, we’re starting to dip our toes into angsty territory !!, less edited than i’d like but what’s new lol word count: 2.8k

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / series masterpost / taglist

Get me a drink, I get drunk off one sip, just so I can adore you I want the entire street out of town just so I can be alone with you Now go when you’re ready My head’s getting heavy, pressed against your arm Just to adore you, I adore you

Adore - Dean Lewis

Whenever Minho asks if you two could hang out together at your place, it usually means that you will end up in your bed.

Tonight you suppose is no different.

Even though you often cap off the night having engaged in activities that could make the Victorian lady in Hyunjin faint, it’s not all that you do. Both you and Minho never let yourselves forget that you’re friends first and foremost. Sex is the added benefit that should never take anything away from your friendship. He is still one of the people you’re most comfortable with, one of the few people whose company you enjoy.

You’re sprawled out on the couch in your small living room when Minho returns from the kitchen with a plate of freshly peeled tangerines, the same ones that he brought over earlier. You push yourself to half-sit up so he could squeeze himself between you and the armrest, before you go back to laying your head on his lap as you two resume watching a bad movie that you put on.

“I hate this so much,” you comment, your eyes glued to the TV screen.

“You picked the movie,” Minho says. “It’s not that bad. The plot is kind of decent.”

“I’m not talking about that. Jeez, if they wanted to make a movie where the main character is a graphic designer, you’d think that they would at least consult someone who knows literally anything about visual art. Look at that horrendous typography job, the text isn’t even aligned with the edges and corners. This is hurting my soul.”

Your cushions (Minho’s thighs) shake lightly as he laughs at your dramatic outburst over something as trivial as a fictional character’s poor standards of digital art. But you really aren’t kidding; the way the woman on screen is butchering the text alignment is quite literally making that very particular part of your brain want to shut down for the next five to seven business days.

“They should’ve consulted you first, is that right?” Minho asks.

“They really should have. I could’ve done wonders for them,” you say matter-of-factly. “I almost majored in graphic design, y’know.”

You have a habit of biting your tongue around others because you know that people don’t really care about the same things you do. Whenever the opportunity arises for you to share tidbits about your interests, excitement would tumble out of you only to be quashed soon after when no one wants to listen to your silly little rambles. It’s disheartening, you’re used to it.

But you never feel that way around Minho. He always lets you babble on about anything and everything, even if he might not know what the hell you’re talking about. He indulges you. He never makes you feel neglected or ignored.

“Hmm, my little genius artist.” He taps your cheek once, and when you turn your head to glance at him, he tells you to open up before he slips a slice of tangerine past your lips. “You’re right. Even I can tell that it’s horrendous.”

You hum appreciatively when the sweetness of the juicy fruit floods your tastebuds. Minho’s hand trails down your arm to rest on your stomach, just below your ribs where he fiddles with the worn fabric of your sleep shirt. If he moves his hand up, he would be grazing your bare chest underneath your shirt. You didn’t bother with a bra because, well, comfort above all else, especially within the four walls of your own home. Besides, it’s nothing that Minho hasn’t seen anyway.

He keeps on feeding you tangerines in between your complaints about bad design standards until the movie ends and the plate is cleared. The only sound in the room is the soft music on the TV as the credits start to roll.

You turn to lie on your back, staring up at Minho. “That was deeply disturbing.”

“You chose it,” he reminds you. “You went in knowing what the premise was.”

“Yeah, I have no one to blame but me. I had too much faith in humanity.”

“And you call me weird.”

“You are weird,” you say. “But I like weird.”

Minho looks down at you and for a moment, he says nothing. His fingers trace something on your stomach. A heart or an odd circle, you don’t know; you’re always bad at deciphering those. His eyelids fall a bit, softening the usual sharpness of his gaze.

Then he’s pulling you by your shoulders, guiding you to sit up and before you know it, you’re situated on his lap with one of his hands on your waist, the other on the back of your neck. Minho tugs you closer, meeting your lips in a kiss in which you waste no time returning.

He’s sweet, like the tangerines that you were sharing all evening. It tends to start like this - sort of randomly, whenever it feels right. He squeezes your side in a comforting gesture as his tongue slips into your mouth. There are times where it’s more urgent, where one of you is needy and desperately seeks the escape and release that can only be found in the other’s embrace. Other times, it’s slower, more gentle, where you can really focus on making each other feel fully satiated.

This, right now - you would pinpoint somewhere in the middle. There’s no fiery clothes-ripping urge, nor a need to lay the other person bare and knead every single knot of stress from their system. Today, there’s just languid wanting; an unhurried inclination to be close.

Him and his tangerine flavored kiss, you and your resolve built on shaky foundation.

You start rolling your hips over his, tugging on his shirt because you want to feel his skin against yours. Minho stops you though; he puts both hands on your hips and pulls his lips away from yours. You blink, dazed, confused.

“I...” he starts, trying to even out his breathing as he finds the words. “I don’t want to have sex tonight.”

Embarrassment instantly washes over you. The rejection is a little humiliating; it’s the first time you’ve ever felt like this around him. Your cheeks catch fire from the mortification, and you’re very aware that you’re still sitting in his lap, right over his crotch.

Wanting to climb off of him and just fucking bury yourself in a ditch, you start stuttering like an absolute fool, “Oh... Y-yeah, no, of course! Shit, shit, I’m sorry. Of course we don’t have t-”

Minho holds you in place, one of the hands on your hips goes to cup your cheek to make you look at him. It effectively shuts you right up.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have phrased it like that,” he says, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone in an earnest apology. “I just want to keep kissing you. Is that okay?”

You’re at a loss for words. He’s holding your face, your waist, so delicately. He looks drunk on your presence alone even though neither of you have had a single drop of alcohol tonight, so sincere in his simple request that you feel your heart swell tenfold.

You want it too. You’re more than okay with just kissing him.

You don’t answer him verbally. Instead, you just nod and move to kiss him again, your hands tangled in his soft hair. The sweetness of the tangerines grows more and more distant as you chase his lips, but you can taste his smile. It’s infinitely more saccharine, and it only grows sweeter when he holds you close and knocks the breath out of you.

When you pull away for air, you slump against him, hiding your face in the crook of his face, shy all of a sudden. He keeps you there but continues with his onslaught of kisses - on your hair, your cheek, your neck, anywhere his lips can reach. Like he simply can’t get enough of you.

“You really like kissing,” you comment, giggling quietly as you do. “Even when we… y’know, bone.”

“Bone? You’re so romantic, babe.” You feel the rumbles of Minho’s chest as he lets out a hearty laugh, the sound of which fills the space of your modest home, embeds itself in every nook and crevice, in between every minuscule crack in your walls until the whole place feels warmer, brighter somehow. “Are you complaining?”

“No... just pointing it out.”

“Well, I like kissing you,” he says. “You’re not a terrible kisser, I guess.”

You sit up straighter and catch the teasing grin on his face before you roll your eyes. “Gee, thanks. You really know how to sweet talk a girl.”

“Says the girl who uses ‘bone’ to describe sex.”

“It’s a perfectly good euphemism for ‘sex’.”

“You might as well just say ‘boink’.”

“Literally shut up.”

“Sure.”

Then he’s pressing his mischievous smile against your mouth once more, and you can’t really wrap your mind around how it’s even possible that he keeps getting sweeter and sweeter. His sugary kisses send warmth tingling up your spine, make a fluttery sensation erupt in your stomach. You’re lightheaded, and not the kind that can be remedied by a sufficient fix of blood oxygen.

Even though you’re perfectly content with kissing, there’s a certain implication that comes with only kissing that you’re not sure what to do with. He’s literally inside of you on a weekly basis and yet, this feels much more intimate than anything you two have ever done.

Because friends don’t kiss each other the way he’s kissing you right now. Friends don’t kiss each other the way you’re kissing him back.

A chime from your phone breaks you two apart, the intrusion forcing a mildly frustrated grunt from Minho. You find the mobile device hidden between the cushions of your couch, and after you quickly scan the notification on the screen, you tell him, “It’s Hyunjin.”

“What did I say? It’s always him at the scene of the crime,” Minho mutters, speaking in the same tone that one would when their sibling interrupts a round of their favorite video game. “What does he want?”

“Just wants me to send him a photo of the sample portfolio from our class.”

“Ignore him. He can wait.”

“He’ll call me if I don’t reply.”

“He’s so annoying,” Minho grumbles but loosens his hold on you nonetheless. “Hurry back.”

“It’ll only take a minute, you big baby,” you chuckle, pressing a swift peck to his lips before you get up from the couch and head toward your bedroom with your phone in hand, searching for the binder that Hyunjin is asking about.

Once you’ve snapped the picture and sent it to your friend, you return to the living room. When Minho hears your footsteps, he holds out an arm, silently beckoning you into his embrace again. And you do. You slide into the space next to him, slotting perfectly against his side.

Your fingers absentmindedly trace along his forearm until they reach his wrist. “This is pretty,” you say, touching the thin link bracelet that he always wears, the one with a small charm hanging off the center in the simple outline of a dove.

“You like it? I’ve had it for ages.”

“Mhmm, it suits you.”

A moment passes where you both sit in silence as you fiddle with the gold jewelry, and you can feel Minho’s eyes on your face the entire time. After a while, he pries your fingers off his skin, only to swiftly take off the trinket.

“No, Min. What are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer you. You attempt (in vain) to pull your wrist back but Minho is stronger. He holds it in place as he clasps the chain around your wrist.

“Minho, you are not giving me your bracelet.”

“Relax. It’s not like it was passed down from my great-great-grandfather. It’s just a random bracelet I bought when I was 18.”

“Why would you even give me your bracelet?”

He shrugs, as though he’s merely doing something as simple as letting you borrow you a pen. “It looks good on you.”

You look down to where his hand is still on your skin, his thumb gently sliding over your pulse point as he admires how the dainty gold reflects the dim lighting in your home.

And he’s right. It does look good, but he probably doesn’t mean it in the same way that you’re thinking of right now. You think it looks good because it’s something that belongs to him that’s now wrapped snugly around your wrist, like some sort of affirmation spoken in a language that only the two of you can understand.

Minho leans over and presses his warm lips to your forehead. It takes you by surprise, the way he does it as if it’s second nature to be this affectionate with you. It’s a tipping point, then suddenly your thoughts are running rampant.

The instruction has always been plain and simple: No strings attached.

But...

The chaste kisses with no expectation of sex, being protective when you’re in the presence of other guys, even giving you his bracelet to wear just because you said it was pretty.

Why do all of these sound an awful lot like strings?

You hesitate, then you ask, “What are we doing?”

“Hmm? You wanna watch another movie?”

“No, that’s not... What are we doing?” You don’t even know what word to put more emphasis on.

Minho looks at you and loosens his fingers. What he can’t understand through your words, you think he sees it in your eyes. “Say what you mean.”

“Are we friends?”

“Of course we are.”

“Are we still friends?”

“Do you not want to be friends anymore?” He cracks a smile, but you can tell that he’s just doing it to lighten you up. “You have terrible timing. I literally just gave you a bracelet.”

“Friends don’t do that.”

“Friends don’t give each other bracelets?”

“Friends don’t kiss like that.”

Minho seems a bit taken aback, though he regains his composure in mere seconds, his voice calm as he tells you, “Friends don’t have sex either.”

“What are you saying?”

“I don’t know. What are you saying? You brought it up.”

You open your mouth, only to subsequently close it because your thoughts were never really that coherent in the first place. You look away from him to glance down at your wrist.

“You’re being confusing,” Minho says quietly, honestly.

“I just… I don’t want anything to change.”

“Did anything change for you?” he asks.

“No,” is what you tell him after a long minute, when what you really mean to say is I don’t know. You can see it as it happens, some stars fading from his eyes, some light growing more faint in his irises. Though the despondence on his face disappears so fast that you’re not sure if it was even there at all, or if it was only a figment of your imagination.

Then you throw the question back at him. “Did anything change? For you?”

Minho’s answer is the same as yours - a clear No - and yet, it makes you feel like you’ve been punctured by something sharp. You don’t know why your heart drops upon hearing him say the exact same thing that you did, but you try not to let it show on your face. Your poker face isn’t anywhere as good as his, but you hope that it’s enough.

You give him a tight-lipped smile and nod a little.

“Then nothing’s changed.” He strokes your hair, emphasizing his point with a soft smile as he reassures you, “And nothing has to change. It’s a bracelet, don’t overthink it. We’re good.”

Sometimes, the decisions you make are bad because you can foresee the outcomes, or at least, you have an idea of the consequences will be later on and yet, you still choose to go through with it anyway.

Just like how you chose to watch a movie you knew would drive you crazy with its trivial details, you choose to accept the feeling of Minho’s bracelet around your wrist. You choose to believe him when he said nothing has changed, and that nothing has to change. You choose to sweep under the rug the thoughts that you’ve been having about him lately. You choose to overlook the reason why you’ve been having those thoughts instead of facing it head-on because you’re terrified of what you’d find if you dig deeper.

You choose to let the conversation end here though it still lingers in your mind, and you choose to let him kiss you goodnight when he leaves because tonight has already been a series of bad decision after bad decision anyway.

And when you fall asleep, it’s the soothing coolness of the golden dove against your skin that lulls you to slumber, like he’s here right beside you to hold you through the night.

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 @palindrome969 @todorokiskitten @azuna-sz @meanergreener @nxzz-skz @jazziwritesthings @poutypoutybin @bookyeom (italicized = can’t tag)

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all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 18.02.2024]

[hoseoksluna]

A MILLION YEARS AGO | jhs

pairing: idol!boyfriend!hobi x f. reader 

genre: smut, fluff

word count: 4.6k

summary: when your faith in your healing wavers, hobi is there to go the extra mile for you.

taglist: join | playlist: million | cp: wattpad, ao3 | discord: join

warnings: near car accident, confusion in the body, iffy feelings towards an ex, seeing an ex for the first time in million years, being mistreated, religion, praying, oc smokes, hobi is the perfect boyfriend that i wish i had, oral sex (f. receiving), raw sexual intercourse.

note: i'm crying as i'm writing this because i'm so sad, but i promise this healed me more than i expected. as you know, i write little fics whenever something happens to me—and this is based off what happened yesterday. me and my cousin sat down at our smaller family event (not the one we had on friday, if you follow me on twitter), and she asked me if i were healed. and she told me about what she saw. i think it's meant to move me somewhere forward, otherwise i would've never got to see his face. i don't know. i hope you like this little fic, you know i had to write it out like i smoke out my feelings. i'm proud of this work in terms of the way it's written. think i kinda killed that. i love you guys. and i miss you, terribly. i love you.

side note: sorry for my vulnerability. a smaller side note: this is also for my baby @hoseokkie-caeks. i promised i would write a hobi one shot after berries, and here i am. <3 i love you, baby. miss you.

The night was dark. Too, too dark. 

I sensed it swathing my bones long before I glimpsed at something I should and shouldn’t have—or rather someone, to be proper. 

The trees remained unmoving, despite the summer breeze drifting through the macrocosm that unfolded with each and every footfall I shared with my beloved beside me. Hand in hand, we walked leisurely through streets that were prosaic until our energy imbued them with our intimate poetry. White swallowing, little by little, the dark. There was no one and everyone around us, but we didn’t see them; we merely saw each other, for we were in love and we deserved to be so. Hoseok after his hard, agonizing work regime and unfair treatment from his management and… the whole world essentially. Me after the way I had been treated, handled, tossed aside by the person I found inside the screen of a phone—inside a world that once used to be mine, but now is nothing but foreign. 

Million, million years ago. 

The stars were aligned just right, stringing together a shape of the wholeness and the throb of my heart, and we sat down to eat dinner with one of my closest friends that came to town—one me and Hoseok have settled in within the precious, year-long break that burst open in his work life. Hobi didn’t want to see people, at least not those who didn’t bear familiar faces, and I didn’t want to see the city, so it was the most fateful of compromises, most perfect of the kind that was naturally threaded between us; a conjoined idea that blinked within our brains at the same time. And the laughter that followed after we voiced it out at the same time, the long kiss that spread roots inside the pillows of our lips—to this day, it is a fond memory, or perhaps something beyond that, that embraces me at night before I enter the realm of dreamland, tugging me closer into the snug heat of Hoseok’s safe place that I regard his body to be. 

Though before we arrived, I gazed up at that constellation of me through the windscreen as Hoseok’s car began to make a strange noise that unnerved him. I prayed for its rightness to be true and I prayed for our safe travel, as short as it was. According to our previous plan, we were supposed to wait for my friend, Hyun-Ae, and her boyfriend, Do-hyun, outside of the restaurant because she had a strong yearning to jump into my arms upon seeing me. My excitement for that to happen ripped my eyes away from the nightly heavens, searching for her in the dimmed lights of the mutely lively building, in the shadowed greenery surrounding it, near the trees that didn’t move, yet my hair did. 

Strange, that dark energy. 

I hoped she was peeing somewhere, where the light doesn’t reach. She invariably had a tendency to chug everything she drank and her bladder paid for it each time—but this time, she wasn’t squatting by a bush. 

She almost didn’t get to me at all. 

A driver, merely minutes away from entering our town, nearly swerved wrongly into the traffic lane that Do-hyun was driving through, yanking away the stars from the canvas of the heavens. He had to pull over and take deep breaths in order to stabilize his mental state as the thought of almost getting in a car accident with her being in the passenger seat triggered his long-fought panic attack. And because the woods at the beginning of our secluded town doesn’t have any service, we waited for them for half an hour without any knowledge of their whereabouts. 

I bit my cuticles until they bled. Until Do-hyun’s lungs were lifted of its heaviness with Hyun-Ae’s help, his breathing evened out, and he was able to get behind the wheel and cross the distance. 

Upon hearing what obstacles stood before us, I didn’t understand it at first. Hyun-Ae’s yearning was gratified, we hugged until our necks ached and our arms quivered in our stifling, long-coming hug with her legs wrapped around me, ate the food we always ordered when we were together and not apart while she filled me in—but I didn’t perceive the darkness for what it was until that very last detail. 

One she wouldn’t provide until I promised her, a million times, that I was fully healed and ready to hear it. I didn’t know what she was about to uncoil, sitting beside me as she was, with her hands in her lap. But I should’ve known that those obstacles were put in our path for my preparation. 

Hyun-Ae hinted, before she began articulating her discovery, that it was about my ex-love. I stiffened a little, taken aback. I downed a shot of the spirits that we had left. And I was being tugged in two different directions, thrown to and fro, asked by the lawlessness of life to choose. 

Stay back and not go further—not let her tell me because Hobi doesn’t know the specifics about my last situationship. 

Ask her to hold my hand and give her the consent to proceed as my curiosity was piqued and my wound was healed, a million years ago. 

And in the short dwelling of the manhandling, my spirit of inquiry crowned, my fatal flaw. I chose the latter—because why would I not? I carry my heart in my chest for my beloved beside me proudly, for his waters mine with the fulfilling streams of his laughter and sound effects, gentleness and devotion. He has grown and nurtured monsteras within its past mutilated chambers—and the longer he cradled my life and made it his own, made it his endeared responsibility, the more healing flowers of wild, undomesticated origin bloomed against the verdure. The pair of us—Hobi, the elegant leaves with its perforation symbolizing the dimples above his mouth when he smiles; I, the chamomile that has the gift to make better, but everyone mistakes it for a daisy, tossing it aside. 

Everyone but Hobi, the worker who cultivated it in me. 

And caught in the snare of my pride, I wanted to know if my ex-love still remained in the exile of his emotional unavailability, fucking everything that walks on his solitary Pluto planet while I made love to the Sun three times a day, minimally. 

Hyun-Ae gripped my hand with her lukewarm, refreshing touch as she told me that he was dating someone, fundamentally poisoning the girl with his ways like he did to me. That she didn’t understand what I had seen in him as he looked worse than ever before, a characteristic of the unhallowed set deep within his eyes. My lungs refused to inhale any particles of air; they must’ve taken a break from their work in order to process, at their own time, the information that was given to them. The male who pretended to date me while I edged his planet for years, laboring myself in order to heal him with my prayers and words because I believed him after he said he loved me, but he needed to get right first. Needed to unload his baggage and bandage up the slashes across his heart from his previous relationship. 

All sweet nothing without an ounce of genuineness. He took pleasure from the way I stayed around while he hurt me again and again by entertaining other girls, my feet indented in the soft soil of the planet. It was a form of compensation for him. A some sort of merriment—and madness, unmitigated madness for me. 

I lost my mind, standing upon that edge. And I had to get off in order to find it again, my hands outstretched beyond me—held by the invisible fingers of God while he taught me how to walk again, how to walk in a gravity-filled space of greenery, the rainbows of colors, the rain and the sunlight like a baby. 

And I did. 

I walked until my feet stopped in front of Hobi’s.

At first, I felt a sheer wisp of happiness for the guy that he managed to make such an immense step in that direction, however it flickered in me for mere seconds, replaced by a doom of nothingness that began to swim in me. Heavy, heavy nothingness that felt cosmically peculiar—and my body urged me to go outside and smoke it away.  

But my mouth spoke first. 

Who is she? Show me. 

Hyun-Ae narrowed her chocolate pools at me, her brows furrowing until they darkened. Then, they flicked towards Hobi beside me and I followed her gaze—he was preoccupied with a heated conversation with Do-hyun and he didn’t hear a word shared between us. Hyun-Ae lowered her voice, nonetheless. 

So you could compare yourself to her? No fucking way. 

But I pushed. Driven by that nothingness in me, I desired to feel something. Hurt, pride—anything that would stir my body and give it what it asked. It was used to feeling great clouds of negative emotions in terms of the male, and now it was searching for it, in spite of the million years that have flown by since. And to shut me up and distract my mind from wanting the wrong things, she showed me a picture of him. 

And upon seeing that dark characteristic of his eyes, gone, hollow and dead from the laws and the ghosts of the Pluto planet, my stomach clenched and I averted my gaze. My body rejected him—I couldn’t look at him for more than two seconds. 

My good, smart body. 

I fell into quietness, more gravely than the one this town was weaved with. Hyun-Ae’s eyes returned to their original round size, softening on me, and I held her hand tighter. I needed, vehemently, to smoke the descending nothingness away, and when I asked her to go outside with me, Hobi reached the conclusion of his conversation. Wrapped his slender fingers around my arm, tender sound effects, only for my ear to hear, slinking inside as he rubbed his nose against the place right beside it. 

You wanna go smokie smokie? Hobi asked, gliding his fingers down my arm until he reached my wrist, the belly of his index tracing the blue and violet ‘V’ shape of my veins upon my left arm. 

He grounded me. 

I nodded, my smile natural, my love for him abounding, and Hyun-Ae encouraged me to go, gently slapping the side of my bum. And so I went, hand in hand, with him.

Our inherent, pristine characteristic. 

Hobi stole my lighter once I fished it out of my purse. He didn’t smoke, but whenever he joined me, he thought it gentlemanly and proper to light up my cigarette for me. It’s the least I can do, he had explained and I had kissed him so hard for it that he blushed. 

It’s what he does now, flicking his thumb upon the spark wheel until the small flame erupts and bathes us in a delicate, orange tint. I hold the cigarette steady between my lips with my two fingers and Hobi draws closer, appeasing my inner need. Waits for me to take that first drag before he prepares me for the rush of his enormous affection by heating the small of my back with his palm, rubbing the sensitive place. It’s something that I’ve learned he likes to do; take things slow so I open for him like a bud of flower. It gives him pleasure, the laboriousness of the process and the following harvesting, the dampness of my dew the evidence of his success.  

It’s extremely attractive because he does it more for my sake than for his own. 

He lets me take another drag, our visual connection a string stouter than the constellation up above, and I feel myself, nonvocally, giving over that heaviness of the nothingness with each exhale. I decompress and Hobi can see it, joining his other hand to my loins and dipping his head to my neck. He scatters tiny, weightless kisses upon that tenderness of me and I am lulled by his enticement, soothed and sleep-drunk, his pheromones and the cedarwood of his fragrance unfettering me. 

I want to take him to bed. 

And I tell him, innocently, with my hands that clenched the muscles of his arms rounding towards his pecs and lowering to his abdomen, the ivory smoke following my movement, but never touching him. Hobi knows this is my language of sensuality and his mouth parts as he feels the words. 

“We should go.” 

He lifts an arm and brushes a strand of hair away from my cheek, his fingers lingering upon the shell of my ear—his private obsession. His endeared eyes study my features for a fraction of time before he leans in and peppers a singular kiss to the button of my nose. “Why are you sad, muffin?” 

The trees towering behind him move in a daze at last, but it’s a blurred swaying motion that merely divulges to me that the obstacles, the preparation and the dark energy have been conquered. And it helps me to speak a little. 

“Hyun-Ae told me something I didn’t really expect to hear. Can I tell you on our way home?” 

Hobi nods, cradling my cheek, and I melt. 

“I can leave the car here and we can walk home. And in the morning, we can go grocery shopping in the city.” 

I liquefy in his hold and I finish the last of my cigarette, kissing him feverishly and reciprocating the kisses he left upon my neck, sinking our domesticity into the column of his throat while he holds me and I drip into the fullness of him. 

When we return to the restaurant, Do-hyun is by himself, informing us that Hyun-ae has gone to pee. The familiarity solidifies me and I sense upon me a moonlit energy of joy that cleanses me of the past. Hyun-ae perceives it long before I open my mouth and she jumps into my arms, telling me how she’s proud of me. We say our goodbyes, promise that we’ll see each other soon, and Hobi pays for the whole table, calming every inch of me. 

I pray as we watch them drive off. I pray for their safe travel into the city and I pray over our car. 

We walk through our miniature, unlit version of the city, breathing in the purity of the air, listening to the rustling of the leaves being fondled by the breeze. Hobi mimics the act of love, rubbing his thumb over my hand, and I feel at ease when I tell him about my first love, chain-smoking just to help me infuse poetry into my words. 

With each detail, I forget it has happened to me as I unattach myself from it, consider it an element of the past that no longer has anything to do with me. Hobi lets me speak, doesn’t interrupt me, though I notice that as I venture into the brutality of the pain I waded through, his teeth grit and his jaw clenched, the preceding flush of his cheeks withering and falling beneath his skin, pallidness blanketing it in ashen gray. And it pushes me further into my process of letting go and forgetting for another million years to come. 

He stops in the middle of the road once I finish the story. Gives me a mournful look that penetrates me so deeply that I mourn, too. His hands find my forearms, my shoulders and my clavicles. Prepare me for the treasure of the most sympathetic of hugs I have ever received in my life and I loosen up in his strong hold, bury my face in his black-clothed chest as his palm holds my head to him. And he kisses my crown, kisses my temple; strengthens me when he squeezes me until I can’t breathe and I grasp that he is cleansing the pollution of the monstera leaves and the chamomile petals. 

And then he begins to speak, dampening me with a fresh layer of hydration. 

“You had to walk through hell in order to find me and I shall spend my lifetime bringing heaven to you. I swear on my life, muffin,” he says, for the entirety of the peripheral corn fields and the trees to hear, as he cradles my face and makes me look at him. My vision blears as I regard him more as my savior than I ever have before, nodding my head in agreement as my eyelashes flutter, the finality of calmness settling down in me like we did in this town. “You’re mine. You were mine when you were with him, which is why fate didn’t allow him near you. Mine to find, mine to take care of, mine to love, kiss and dance with. Mine. You’re gonna keep blooming in my hands and you’re no longer gonna pray for him, you’d done enough of that already. You’re only gonna pray for yourself.” 

This, I disagree with, dissolving sugar personified. 

“No, I’m only gonna pray for you.” 

Hobi pouts, his mouth rounding downwards, and his thumbs rub my cheeks, smearing my makeup—and I don’t mind. It’s always been his to ruin. He presses his nose and forehead to mine, breathing with me as the breeze swishes past. I slip my hands beneath the hem of his T-shirt, needing to feel his skin, and Hobi sighs against me. Withdraws a tiny bit and steals the breath he gave me. 

“Teach me how to pray for you.” 

I’m so struck with awe, wonder and my genuine love for him that I cannot speak, my lung failing, though differently this time. They swell up with the essence of my feelings for him, my devotion and my besottedness that my eyes well up before I can halt their rivulets. No one has ever prayed for me, certainly not a male I loved and looked up to. I spent years having my empty prayers echoed back to me and now the love of my life, my eternal beloved one, asks me to teach him how to pray for me. 

Only the omnipotent Listener of my prayers could make this possible for me, and before I know it—my mouth gives my beloved the instructions, the contents of my knowledge that I learned along the trajectory of my somber, otherworldly life and then he’s whispering the voice of his heart into my ear. 

“Dear God, please give my muffin the strength not to be pulled back into the life she had before me. Make sure she’s not influenced by it either. Take her burdens and give them to me because I can bear them. Relieve her heart and make her happy. Use me to do it.” He withdraws and drags his thumbs across my eyelashes, asking me to open them and I do. Once he has my attention, he seeks my guidance. “What do I say now?” 

I huff a soft laugh, endeared. Kiss the edge of his hand. “Say thank you and amen.” 

Hobi grins and the Sun peeks through the night. “Thank you and amen.” 

My laughter gains volume and he wraps his lips around it, shushing me, kissing me madly, and I bury my fingertips into his short hair, reciprocating the different, different madness and expanding it. Weightlessness seizes me and I don’t feel my limbs, stupefaction firing me with enthusiasm and then tongues clash and the kiss gains a verve that forces me to collide my body with his and— 

And then we’re dancing. 

To a slow song he begins to hum with the deep raspiness of his voice. Our bodies are one, singular, intertwined as we move to the rhythm of our unified heart and I weep. 

I weep in my joy. I weep in my contentment—and I weep in my love for him. 

He touches my back all over, cupping my hair as if it was water, leading our bodies in the dance, and there’s no one around us, no cars coming, no animals to watch us—only the trees, the fields, the buzzing of cicadas and the breeze and the moon up above. And then he’s twirling me until I’m dizzy and my soft laughter reverberates through the spaciousness of the road that is ours at this very moment. And the Sun beams at me, my Sun, as he pulls me close and continues to dance with me. I feel the jealous shafts of the light of the moon digging into my back that I soon forget about because his lips pursue mine and I dwindle away into his magnetism. 

His hands, his pheromones and his cedarwood fragrance take me to his bed. 

And he’s feasting on me like the dessert he didn’t get to have at the restaurant, bent over as I am over the foot of the bed, my dress bunched in his fist over my loins and my panties pushed to the side. My hungry beloved, my parched Sun, nuzzling his face in my femininity while I drip my dew and moan his name for him. Sucking my clit, he keeps me hovering on the cusp of my orgasm and I tremble in my vulnerable position—face planted on the bedding while the lower half of my body is raised in the air for him. And once my throat begins to let out whimpers and incoherent pleas, he draws back, closes his body over mine until his lips explore my ear and there, there he teases me. 

“What was that, my little muffin?” 

I whine, grinding my ass into his groin, and he hums. It takes me back to his song and I apperceive that it is the only thing I ever want to be pulled back to. Reminiscent of it, his song is blackened by eroticism, by his enormous arousal, drenched by my dew and I need him. While I feel God, the Listener of my prayers, to be a glaring light in me, I need my beloved Hobi to be interwoven with it. 

“I want you inside me. Please, I need it,” I beg, twirling my hips against his hardness like he twirled me in the middle of the road and Hobi sucks in a breath, exhaling it in the form of a whimper and I stoop in my heady longing. 

Abruptly, he plops me onto my back and yanks my panties away. “I’m gonna marry you, you know that?” 

I can only whisper my overwhelming agreement, my bones and my muscles too overcome with elation to do anything else. I would marry him tomorrow if I could. Go grocery shopping with him in the morning, unload it at home, put on my white silky dress and go to church with him by midday. Spend the rest of the day celebrating our union in bed, round after round until we get so exhausted that we submit to slumber, dreaming of our wedding, reliving it. 

He takes off my dress, kisses my forehead, ruffles my hair around me, his thumb dragging across the skin beneath my lower lip as if he was fixing my smeared lipstick for the special day, getting me ready, and I change my mind. I would marry him right now if I could.  

And I tell him. 

“I would marry you right now.” 

His eyes wet, casting a glimmering light upon my naked form, and a paroxysm of his joy gushes out of him and onto me. Hobi tickles my tummy with butterfly kisses, holding me down with his strong hands that he soon pins above my head, leveling with me, my dew drying on his face—yet he still glistens. Glistens with a gleam of bliss that washes over me. 

“Then, let’s get married,” he murmurs, and seizes my lips with his own, kissing me so roughly that I instinctively open my legs for him, the heated pressure in between unbearable. And then he holds my wrists in one hand while the other unbuckles his pants, fisting his length and tugging on it. My favorite sight. He guides it to my sopping hollowness and with one hard thrust, that he knows I am wholly enraptured by each time, he sheathes himself inside me all the way, completing me. Rests at the delicate touch of our mounds. “I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve and then I’m gonna take you to church.” 

And he gives it to me. Doesn’t pull out fully, but pounds me into the mattress. One hand gripping my wrists together, the other my jaw—ascertaining that my attention doesn’t fluctuate but remain fixed on him, on the twists of his features, on the guttural moans, his pheromones and his fragrance that trickle out of him and dunk into me while I struggle to take it all. 

“Am I hurting you?” he whispers, kissing my cheek and breathing against it, slowing down his strokes that scramble my brain. The tip of his cock grazes my cervix and I lose, I lose my identity. 

My eyes flutter and he pries my mouth open with his thumb, providing me something to focus on as I intuitively suck on it, keeping my head afloat enough to answer. 

“No, it’s just too big.” 

Hobi hums, rewarding me with a peck on the mouth and the gradual speed of his thrusts. “You can take it, muffin. I know you can. You’ve shown me before.” 

The praise, the belief in me—it all crests in lowest part of my sexuality and again, I edge around the cusp of my orgasm. Beads of perspiration line his forehead, soaking his hairline and he’s a sight to die for, the final piece to the fulfillment of my release. Blush reddens his cheeks, his irises enlarged and digging into mine. He doesn’t falter, continuing with his fast rhythm and I moan out poetry lines that make him squeeze his eyes shut. 

“I’m gonna come for you.” 

He groans. “Uh-huh, come for me, muffin. Give it to me. Show me again how well you can come on my cock. Yes, yes—”

Pluto bursts and ceases to exist. I come so vehemently that my spine arches off the mattress, colliding into Hobi’s chest. I shun out all constellations, all planets, the entire universe collapsing under the weight and gravity of my orgasm and our own marble, green, yellow and white with no one around but us, is called to creation with the bloom of Hobi’s own climax. 

He stuffs me full, my hollowness and my mouth, kissing me so hard that I become dizzy all over again. Moans my pet name as he shoots out his ivory love for me, fucking into me sluggishly while the twitching of his cock enamors me even more. I swallow his voice, swallow his grunts and little curses. My iridescent, entranced spasms caused by his exuberance prolong until I don’t know where my head stands, where my legs are wrapped around or what body part of his my hands clench. 

My savior, my beloved, linked to me for all eternity. 

This must have been our wedding because I shall never be the same again, my mind and my heart swept clean and filled with brand new oxygen. I no longer remember what happened prior to our love-making and when I share that with him, Hobi is possessed with the need to do it all over again. 

And he does, a million times over, until he marries me in the church of our town, with Hyun-Ae and Do-hyun present, mine and his parents and his sister with Mickey. 

A wedding most perfectly extraterrestrial, on our own Hope planet, with nothing hurting, with no thoughts resurfacing. 

Me and my beloved, me and my savior, me and my Sun. 

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @tkslovechild ,  @jjk7k ,  @parkinglot-nights , @bethvar , @Sexytholland , @yoongibaybee , @crystaleah , @fennecnco, @lil-kpopstan , @euphoricmyth , @jungkoock , @cinmongirl , @hoseokkie-caeks , @kam9404 , @fr0ggieth1nk .

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist 

[huboi]

punishment pt 2/?

[capitano x ftm! reader]

link to part 1

╰┈➤ includes; degradation from capitano and the other harbingers, throat fucking, some praise, unprotected p n v (don’t do this!), capitanos huge cock, size kink, tummy bulge

╰┈➤ this content is rated 16+ and for male aligned only! fem aligned dni!

“now, go ahead and help out one of the others puppy, best to make yourself useful” childe encouraged, before kissing the back of your neck affectionately.

you stumbled across over to whoever was the closest, which happened to be capitano. you noticed a huge tent in his tight fitting pants, gulping in realisation you’re truly and utterly going to be fucked dumb.

“do me a favour and suck my cock like the slut that you are,” capitano rumbled out from behind his mask. “yes sir,” you curtly whined out, before getting into your knees. capitano took the chance to pull down his zipper and boxers for you, his cock slapping against his abdomen.

suddenly, your mouth was filled with cock. gagging echoed throughout the room, the other harbingers groans joining in. you licked a vein on the side of his cock, causing him to let out a small groan of pleasure. the salty taste of pre invaded your mouth, whining in response. your fingers trailed their way towards your cunny, entering your already cum stuffed hole.

capitano proceeded to un mercifully thrust into your throat, not caring about the tears sliding down your cheeks from said action.

slurping, squelching, groaning and gagging sounds all echoed throughout the room. luckily for you guys said room is sound proof so none of the other fatui members will have a clue as to what’s going on.

without warning, capitanos large, gloved hands forced your mouth to deep throat his cock, with a sudden groan he came down your throat, refusing to let you go until you swallowed all of it down.

“such a good boy, you deserve to be stuffed full of my cum in your pretty cunt too,” capitano practically purred, his hands gripped onto your waist, bringing you onto his lap. your hands grabbed his cock and helped ease it into your cunt.

you whimpered out at the sudden feeling of being full of his fat, long, meaty cock. “oh archons, look at that” pantalone lowly moaned out. confused, you took a glance at to where he was looking. letting out a gasp as you saw the massive tummy bulge, which was very clearly evident from any angle.

“such a good cumdump for us aren’t you?” capitano cooed, his hands gripped onto your waist tightly, slamming in and out of your messy boy cunt. his head snuggled itself into the crook of your neck, you could feel him panting heavily behind his mask.

when capitanos fingers came down to rub messily on your clit, a sudden tingling sensation shuddered throughout your lower half, before you let out a mix between a whimper and a moan whilst climaxing, hard, on capitanos cock.

capitano used you like a fleshlight, refusing to slow down with his harsh, brain melting thrusts. sticking your tongue out and crossing your eyes, letting out seemingly continues moans. an explosion of warmth entered your boycunt, you could feel it spurting right up against your cervix.

“thank you so much for making me cum, capitano sir!” you managed to pant out, legs wobbling on his lap, his cock still resting in your cunt.

“we’re not finished with you yet, puppy. we’ve still got a long way to go. by the end of the night, you’ll be stuffed so full that your stomach will be bulging with the mixture of all our cum,” tartaglia explained. you clenched down tightly on his cock hearing that “ooooh, he likes the sound of that, tartaglia, he just clamped down harder on my cock. you like being our cumdump don’t you?,” capitano asked, slightly grinding more into your cunt.

content belongs to @huboi on tumblr, DO NOT REPOST ON ANY SOCIAL MEDIA PLATFORMS WHATSOEVER

[australianbeyonce]

𝒒𝒖𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 𝒊’𝒗𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝑱𝒐𝒆 𝑫𝒊𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒛𝒂’𝒔 ‘𝑩𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑯𝒂𝒃𝒊𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝑩𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇’

ch 1: the quantum you

we are part of a vast, invisible field of energy, which contains all possible realities and responds to our thoughts and feelings.

your thoughts have consequences so great that they create your reality.

we don’t have to settle for our present reality; we can create a new one, whenever we choose to.

your thoughts shape your destiny.

everything in your life is not solid matter—rather, it’s all fields of energy and frequency patterns of information.

energy responds to your mindful attention and becomes matter.

everything in our physical reality exists as pure potential.

if subatomic particles can exist in an infinite number of possible places simultaneously, we are potentially capable of collapsing into existence an infinite number of possible realities.

if you can imagine a future event in your life based on any one of your personal desires, that reality already exists as a possibility in the quantum field, waiting to be observed by you.

you are powerful enough to influence matter because at the most elementary level you are energy with a consciousness.

we don’t need to be touching or even in close proximity to any physical elements in the quantum field to affect or be affected by them.

the “you” that exists in a probable future is already connected to the “you” in this now.

when you hold clear focused thoughts about your purpose, accompanied by your passionate emotional engagement, you broadcast a stronger electromagnetic signal that pulls you toward a potential reality that matches what you want.

hold a clear intention of what you want, but leave the “how” details to the unpredictable and quantum field. let it orchestrate an event in your life in a way that is just right for you.

when you do create purposefully, request a sign from the quantum consciousness that you have made contact with it. dare to ask for synchronicities related to your specific desired outcomes. when you do, you are being bold enough to want to know that this consciousness is real and that it is aware of your efforts.

since the quantum field is nothing but immaterial probability, it is outside of space and time. as soon as we observe one of those infinite probabilities and give it material reality, it acquires those two characteristics.

chapters cont. below

ch 2: overcoming your environment

the subjective mind has an effect on the objective world.

an observer can affect the subatomic world and influence a specific event.

if you can influence your brain to change before you experience a desired future event, you will create the appropriate neural circuits that will enable you to behave in alignment with your intention before it becomes a reality in your life. through your own repeated mental rehearsal of a better way to think, act, or be, you will “install” the neural hardware needed to physiologically prepare you for the new event.

ch 3: overcoming your body

every potential already exists

when you have thoughtfully rehearsed a future reality until your brain has physically changed to look like it had the experience, you have emotionally embraced a new intention so many times that your body is altered to reflect that it has has the experience, hang on… because this is the moment the event finds you.

ch 4: overcoming time

in the present, all potentials exist simultaneously in the field. when we stay present, when we are “in the moment,” we can move beyond space and time, and we can make any one of those potentials a reality. when we are mired in the past, however, none of those new potentials exist.

if we focus on an intended future event and then plan how we will prepare or behave, there will be a moment when we are so clear and focused on that possible future that the thoughts we are thinking will begin to become the experience itself.

you have all the neurological machinery to transcend time.

ch 5: survival vs. creation

as our emotions become more elevated, we naturally ascend to a higher level of consciousness, closer to source… and feel more connected to universal intelligence.

when you’re living in the elevated emotion of creation, you feel so lifted that you would never try to analyze how or when a chosen destiny will arrive. you trust that it will happen because you have already experienced it.

do you it has already occurred in no space, no time, no place, from which all things material spring forth. you are in a state of knowingness; you can relax into the present and no longer live in survival.

to anticipate or analyze when, where, or how the event will occur will only cause you to return to your old identity.

ch 6: three brains: thinking to doing to being

it’s often useful to compare one’s brain to a computer, and it’s true that yours already has the hardware you’ll need to change your “self” and your life.

because you are thinking and feeling differently, you are changing reality.

you can’t think one way and feel another and expect anything in your life to change.

change your state of being… and change your reality.

choose a potential reality that you want, live it in your thoughts and feelings.

give thanks ahead of the actual event.

when your body experiences that the event is occurring in that moment and feels real to you, based solely on what you’re focused on mentally and feeling emotionally, then you are experiencing the future now.

ch 7: the gap

imagine how much good you could do by converting any destructive energy to productive energy. contemplate what you could accomplish if you weren’t focused on survival (a selfish emotion), but instead worked to create out of positive intentions (a selfless emotion).

ask yourself: what energy from past experiences (in the form of limited emotions) am i holding on to that reinforces my past identity and emotionally attaches me to my current circumstances? could i use this same energy and transform it into an elevated state from which to create a new and different outcome?

and do you know the funny thing about not wanting of lacking for anything? that’s when you can really begin to manifest things naturally.

ch 8: meditation, demystifying the mystical, and waves of your future

decide to stop being the old you

once that emotion is created you begin to feel like your new ideal, and that new feeling will start to become familiar. remember that when your body begins to respond as if the experience is already present reality, you will signal your genes in new ways… and your body will commence to change now, ahead of the physical event in your life.

[devildomwriter]

Obey Me As Tumblr #33

MC: Eating chips with chopsticks is unironically Galaxy brain. Your fingers don’t get greasy and it lasts longer

Solomon: Fork

MC: Oh yeah I’m going to stab my crunchy foods and make them fall apart like an absolute absent minded dunce fool, clown, jester, like a monstrous moron, an idiot of Shakespearean proportions, a cretin

Diavolo: Uhm, you seem to forget that chips can also mean fries? And that’s probably what they were talking about haha

MC: I did not forget anything. I purposefully ignore the idea of using British vocabulary to do my part in helping it die out

•

Belphegor: An alarm clock except it’s set to every time

Leviathan: We touch

Solomon: I get

Diavolo: This feeling

•

Beelzebub: I was talking with my brothers yesterday and we decided the best way to own a guy who takes off his shirt to fight you is to pick his shirt up and put it on

Mammon: That might be one of the ultimate power moves

Simeon: Or pick it up and say “lift your arms up” and try to put it back on him

•

Leviathan: By day I appear to be no more than just an average run of the mill office worker, but when night time strikes! I’m crying alone in my bed

•

Solomon: I bought my friend an elephant for their room

They said “thank you”

I said “don’t mention it”

Mammon: Is there a joke here that everyone gets but I don’t?

Belphegor: Nobody tell them

•

Thirteen:

Them: why are you competing in our cooking show today?

Me: the government banned gladiatorial matches yet I yearn for glory in the arena

Solomon: I’m here to tell you gladiator matches are still a thing, pal

Thirteen: Hm. Interesting. The last time I tried to behead a man for prestige and the right to majesty, I was dragged out of the alleyway by three very unreasonable men of the law and I would like to know where you live

•

Diavolo: What do you call a snobbish criminal going down the stairs?

Lucifer: I don’t know. What?

Diavolo: A condescending con descending

Lucifer: Get out

MC: That was beautiful

•

Leviathan: Bitten by a radioactive cicada. Now all I do is sit in a tree and scream all day

•

Solomon: Self-care is slathering yourself in baby oil and sliding down the 7th lane in your local bowling alley so the mechanical pin setter will pick you up and take you to the forbidden place behind the bowling lanes where you can meet God but only on Tuesdays

•

Mammon: Security called me at work today and told me they saw me outside chasing a frog around on the security cameras. I wasn’t in trouble they just wanted to let me know they saw me, I didn’t catch him

•

Leviathan: Me wearing a blanket as a cloak, stirring my man’n’cheese in a dimly lit room: potion

•

Satan: When I say I’m “feral” it doesn’t always mean I’m angry, maybe I’m stupid and if you give me food you’ll earn my trust and I’ll follow you around

•

Asmodeus: Covered in blood for sexy reasons

Asmodeus: Also I just got stabbed

Asmodeus: Don’t suppose there’s anyone here willing to tenderly clean, stitch and bandage my wounds while calling me an idiot in an exasperatedly fond tone of voice is there?

•

Diavolo: Introducing a new alignment— chaotic lawful. I have a strict moral code but nobody can figure out what the hell it is

•

Mammon: My best feature is that I’m blindingly intelligent for about 30 seconds a day

Mammon: I do not get to choose which seconds, they are not consecutive

•

Satan: Okay I’m normal now I promise. Let me out of the case please

•

Leviathan: Power move: calling someone a coward in the middle of a fight while also running away from them as fast as you possibly can

Lucifer: Mammon ghost wrote this

Mammon: YO

•

Leviathan: “Are you a boy or a girl?”

I am the physical embodiment of suffering

[worth-the-chaos]

Adventures in Babysitting - Steve Harrington x female!reader - Chapter 12

Chapter Summary: The evil that you thought you had gotten rid of is still very much lurking within Hawkins. You, your boyfriend, and your friends race against time to try and find Eddie before it’s too late.

Content Warning: swearing, violence, knives and blood, jealous Steve

Word Count: 6.5k

Author’s Note: This chapter is starting to get season 4 going, so that’s pretty epic. I hope you guys enjoy it and thank you so much for reading it <3

Message me to be added to the taglist! Also, send me asks! Tell me shit, ask me questions, y’all are fun to talk to ;)

Series Masterlist | Part 11 | Next Part

***

Your Saturday started out like any normal Saturday. Steve peppered soft kisses to your skin as you woke up from your comfortable slumber wrapped in his arms. You ate breakfast together and got ready before picking up Robin and making your way to Family Video. It had taken a significant amount of convincing to get Keith to let the three of you work together, considering there was really only enough work for two people to do, but he finally agreed to it since, in his own words, “Steve barely even counts.”

You all were reorganizing the shelves as Robin recounted her conversation with Vickie at the basketball game the night prior. “Then Vickie laughed. And it wasn’t like a cheap fake laugh either. It was like…it was a real, genuine laugh!”

“Of course she laughed, Rob. It’s my muppet joke. It’s hilarious,” Steve replied as he restocked the horror section. You rolled your eyes from your perch on the counter, glaring up at him as you stopped sorting out the returned movies.

“My point is that Vickie laughed, and everything was just like…it was perfect! But I’m having this problem where it’s like, I should stop talking. I have said everything I need to say, but then I guess I get nervous and the words keep spilling out, and it’s like my-my brain is moving faster than my mouth or…or rather my-my mouth is moving faster than my brain, and…and it’s like I’m digging this hole for myself, and I want to stop digging and I’m trying to stop digging, but I can’t, and I’m doing it right now, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, you are,” you responded, looking at her with a great deal of sympathy. You knew how she was feeling. You couldn’t even count the amount of times that you had rambled on and on to Steve about something so completely and utterly stupid because you didn’t know when to stop.

“Ugh, I’m hopeless,” Robin backed up against the wall, throwing her head back in exasperation.

“Robin! Don’t say that; you are not hopeless,” you scolded your best friend, “I mean, look. I was completely and utterly hopeless before Steve and I started dating…like if he hadn’t shown up and the planets hadn’t aligned, I’d be single as fuck right now, but everything that the two of us have, started with us just being friends. So, the fact that you’re talking to Vickie and she clearly at least likes you in that capacity is a really damn good sign.”

“I wouldn’t say you would be hopeless, I mean, guys are pretty much throwing themselves at you,” Steve mumbled under his breath, thinking back to how you had interacted with Eddie the night before. You had seemed so comfortable with him and he hated to admit it, but the two of you looked like you belonged together far more than you did with him. Eddie marched to the beat of his own drum. He dressed different, he acted different, he didn’t go with the crowd or hop on the bandwagon. You were exactly the same. Sometimes Steve worried that you would wake up and realize that he was way too stereotypical and boring for you and that you would leave him. He pushed the thought aside as you spoke up.

“What do you mean?” Before Steve could answer, Robin began rushing across the room.

“Oh! I think I found our morning movie!” She held up a copy of Doctor Zhivago.

“Ugh, you know I don’t do double VHS,” Steve groaned, shaking his head as he walked past the counter towards her. You stopped him, smacking him in the chest before he could try and take the tape away from Robin before you spoke up.

“We’d actually love to watch it Robin,” you smiled, your eyes still glaring at Steve. Robin jumped up and down a little bit before turning on the television to get it set up, but all of you paused when the news came on.

“We’re in the Forest Hills trailer park in east Roane County. We don’t have a lot of details now, but we can confirm that the body of a Hawkins High student was discovered early this morning. Police have not yet released the victim’s name…” the reported stated, detailing all the information that was known and released.

“Holy shit,” Steve whispered, his and Robin’s eyes transfixed on the screen. His voice sounded far away as your vision blurred with tears. You could barely breathe as you thought about the only two Hawkins High students you knew that lived there: Max and Eddie. If it was either of them, you weren’t sure what you would do. You weren’t sure how you would be able to live and move on.

You stumbled backwards, and you knocked over a pile of VHS tapes as you blindly grabbed for the edge of the counter, beginning to hyperventilate. Robin and Steve snapped out of the trance the news had put them in, as Steve’s head whipped around towards you just in time as you collapsed to the floor.

“Robin turn that off!” Steve yelled, and she grabbed for the remote, quickly silencing the news. You were in a heap on the floor sobbing, barely able to hear Steve as he quickly sat with you on the floor, rubbing big circles across your back to try and calm you down. “Shhhh, y/n. I’m right here, okay baby….I’m right here with you and I’m not going to go anywhere,” he whispered into your ear, kissing your temple as you cried.

After a while, you finally found the will to calm yourself down, and you had been the one to turn the TV back on. You wanted to know as much as you could. You wanted as much information as possible to rule out the possibility that it was either of your friends. Really the only additional information you got was that it was definitely murder and that the police hadn’t released the names of any suspects, which was a whole lot of nothing to go off of.

You were biting your nails, staring at the screen with furrowed brows, when suddenly the chime of the bell above the door rang out into the otherwise empty store. You jumped, turning around to see Dustin followed by Max Mayfield herself.

“Max!” You shouted as you hopped over the counter and pulled her into a bone crushing hug. She groaned, not expecting the sudden demonstration of how much you cared before she reciprocated.

“Hello to you too, I guess?”

“I’m just so glad you’re okay,” you breathed out, feeling a sense of relief flood your body, knowing that Max wasn’t the unnamed victim from the news. Max was struck by your words, not really even considering the fact that some of her friends may be led to believe that she had been killed based on the location of the murder.

“Are you guys seeing this?” Steve chimed in, pointing to the TV screen in the back corner of the room.

“How many phones do you have?” Dustin asked suddenly. You looked at him with confusion plastered across your face.

“Someone was just murdered,” Steve replied, annoyed that the boy could be asking about phones at a time like this.

Dustin just slammed his hands on the counter in response, causing you to jump again in your anxious state, before he repeated himself. “How many phones do you have?”

“Two…why?” You spoke up, furrowing your brow.

“Technically three, if you count Keith’s in the back,” Robin corrected you, a similar look flashing across her face.

“Three works,” Max spoke up, looking at Dustin. Dustin paused, looking at Steve and Robin behind the counter before throwing his backpack across and hopping it. You and Max were civilized, walking around the counter to join them while Steve protested.

“My tapes! Dude! What are you doing, man?!” Steve groaned. Dustin had a special talent for making things significantly more difficult for Steve…especially at his place of work.

“Setting up base of operations,” Dustin replied, typing into the computer.

You attempted to shove him to the side, away from your computer, but he swatted your hands away. You glared at him with the might of a thousand suns before hip checking him, causing him to stumble to the side. “What the fuck do you guys need our computer for?”

“To look up Eddie’s friends’ phone numbers,” Dustin retorted as if it was obvious.

“Oh Eddie, your new best friend you think is cooler than me because he plays your nerdy game,” Steve grumbled back, but you were only half paying attention as you made eye contact with Max. Clearly the two kids knew something that you didn’t and you were worried what that meant in conjunction with the shit you were hearing on the news.

“I never said that!” Dustin looked at Steve, and you rolled your eyes.

“Seriously, you guys, maybe on a Monday you can play around, but it’s Saturday. It’s our busiest day,” Robin spoke up, reorganizing the shit that Dustin had knocked off the counter.

“Robin, I totally empathize but this cannot wait,” Dustin sighed as he started writing on a clipboard.

“What because calling all of Eddie’s friends is an emergency?”

“Exactly!”

“Do you want me to strangle him or do you want to?” Steve asked you. The chuckle he was about to let out died in his throat when he saw the look on your face.

“I really think we should hear them out,” your voice was small when you replied. You all looked over at Max and she took a deep breath before she began talking.

“The victim…it’s Chrissy Cunningham,” she started, “I saw her body this morning when the police were leaving. The thing is, I saw her go in Eddie’s trailer and shortly after, my TV started going nuts and the lights started flickering like crazy, which isn’t really super out of the ordinary, my electricity is shit….but then I heard screaming and looked out the window and I saw Eddie leave and—and he looked scared. Like really scared.”

Steve reached for your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours before he spoke up. “So…Eddie killed Chrissy?”

“Steve! No, he fucking didn’t. That’s why we need the phones so that we can find out where he is so that we can prove that he’s innocent,” Dustin glared at your boyfriend, shoving him a bit.

“Just calm down,” you interjected, standing in between the boys. This was all a lot to unpack and you weren’t going to solve anything if they couldn’t stop bickering. When they both grumbled and crossed their arms, you moved around the counter, swiftly moving to the door and flipping the sign to indicate that the store was closed. “Just, you guys can use the phones, okay? But that’s it. We don’t do anything else until we have something solid to go off of. Do you understand?” You looked between Max and Dustin.

They both began to nod and you shook your head. “No, I need to hear you say it. I’m serious, someone was just killed and we are not putting our lives in jeopardy without some serious cause, okay?”

“Yes, we understand,” Max responded. Dustin spoke up in agreement, and you paused to look at them one more time before turning around.

“I’ll get Keith’s phone from the back. You all start making calls.”

You swiftly headed to the back, grabbing the third phone. You were turning around to leave when you about nearly jumped out of your skin, when you were met face to face with your boyfriend.

“Steve! You scared the shit out of me! Don’t fucking do that!” You put a hand on your chest as you tried to catch your breath.

“Y/n, I don’t have a good feeling about this. I mean, the most likely scenario is that Eddie killed that poor girl and now we’re actively trying to find him. He could be fucking dangerous, and I don’t want anything to happen to you, okay? So, let’s just stop all this bullshit before it’s too late,” he grabbed your hands, rubbing his thumbs along the backs of them as he looked you in the eyes. His brow was furrowed with worry, and you felt a pang in your chest. You knew you had to see this through, if not for Eddie, then for Dustin.

“Steve, I know Eddie. He wouldn’t do something like this. Trust me,” you told Steve, looking him in the eyes with so much conviction that he decided to let it go for now.

You brought the phone out and Hawkins’ Family Video soon became a bustling call center as you all took turns trying to get ahold of anyone who may possibly know where Eddie was. Name after name after name got crossed off your list as you found no answers, and you were beginning to feel hopeless when Max spoke up.

“Hey guys, I might have a lead,” she started, “apparently, Eddie gets drugs from some guy named Reefer Rick, and sometimes Eddie crashes there.”

“Alright, that sounds promising. So where does this Reefer Rick guy live?” Robin asked.

“See, that’s the thing. No one knows. He’s more of a…legend than someone that people actually know.”

“What about a last name?” You spoke up, attempting to find any additional piece of information that you could follow to find Eddie.

“I don’t know that either.”

“I bet the cops know the last name,” Steve spoke up. He hadn’t been super helpful in calling around, instead choosing to reorganize the store and do some light cleaning. He was reorganizing some tapes with his back to you all and he had said it so nonchalantly.

“What?” You questioned him, irritation settling in your tone.

“I said the cops probably know,” he shot back, “I mean, listen, if this Reefer Rick is actually a drug dealer, I guarantee you he’s been busted at some point. Means he’s in the system.”

“The cops? Really, Steve? That’s your suggestion?” Dustin asked incredulously.

“I just think at this point they should be filled in on what we know; what’s going on.”

“You think Eddie’s guilty, don’t you?” Dustin stepped forward, but you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder to settle him. You could hear the hurt in his voice and you wished that Steve hadn’t been the one to cause it, but then again, tensions were high with everything that was going on; like the implications of Max’s account of her electricity going haywire around the time that Chrissy would have died.

“Woah, woah, woah, I believe in innocent until proven guilty and all that constitutional shit…I just, you know….I just don’t think we can rule it out,” Steve spoke up, avoiding making eye contact with any of you as he messed with a Rubik’s cube on the counter.

“Steve!” You scolded him. Why can’t he just take a leap of faith and believe you guys?

“That’s precisely what we’re trying to do here, Steve,” Max spoke up, glaring at the boy.

“And maybe we’d have a little bit more luck if you spent less time reorganizing shit that doesn’t need reorganizing and more time trying to find Eddie,” Dustin chimed in.

“Hey, someone’s gotta make sure things are in order here. Do you see how many fucking movies we have? It can be overwhelming for the average customer,” Steve tried to defend himself.

Suddenly an idea popped into your head, as you darted over to the computer, typing away into the system. “What are you doing?” Max asked.

“Maybe we don’t need a last name,” you started as you pressed enter on the keyboard. “Twelve Ricks already have accounts here…now it’s just a matter of narrowing it down.”

***

After determining the Rick most likely to be the Reefer Rick, you waited until it got dark to go scope the place out. You decided that you’d be more inconspicuous at night, not wanting to draw any attention to yourselves while you tracked down a potential murder suspect.

You were all piled in Steve’s BMW as he pulled into the driveway of one Rick Lipton. You felt nerves settle in your stomach as you tried to take a deep breath, Dustin quickly getting out of the car and ringing the doorbell. No one answered and after Dustin pressed the button repeatedly, Steve put a hand on his shoulder to pull him away from the door.

“Okay. Well, that’s settled, I guess he’s not here,” Steve spoke up. This did nothing to stop Dustin from continuing to pound on the door, yelling for the boy to answer. So much for being inconspicuous, you thought as you walked around the side of the house. Your hands trembled a bit, being a tad anxious about being out here at night, when your flashlight finally caught sight of a boathouse on the lake.

“Hey guys?” You called out. Steve was quick to join you, followed by the rest of the gang as you cautiously approached the metal lined shed. There was no real signs of life in there as you entered, and it seemed just as abandoned as Rick’s house. “Hello? Is anyone home?” You shouted into the darkness as you took a hesitant step inside.

“What a dump,” Steve muttered, taking in the sight of all of the clutter. In his mind, there was no way in hell that Eddie was here, so though he was taking all of this seriously, he wasn’t too committed to really inspecting the place with great detail.

You grabbed an oar off of the wall, walking over to the small boat docked in the center of the room as you shoved at the tarps with it, not wanting to get close just in case something was awry.

“What are you doing?!” Dustin whisper-shouted at you, perplexed by your actions.

“He might be in there,” you answered simply.

“Then take the tarp off!”

“If you’re so brave, you take the tarp off!” You whisper-shouted back at him, though when Dustin moved forward to do just that, you and Steve both yanked him back by his shoulders. You continued to poke at the tarp, and Steve placed a gentle but nervous hand on the small of your back, not wanting to stray too far from you.

Max suddenly spoke up from across the room, pointing her flashlight at some odds and ends on a small table. “Hey, guys. Someone was here.”

“Maybe he heard us? Got spooked and ran?” Robin suggested, joining Robin to inspect the items before her.

“Don’t worry. Y/n will get him with her oar…isn’t that right y/n?” Dustin spoke to you sarcastically. You were glad you had the self control to not swing it at the infuriating child beside you as Steve moved away from you to pull Dustin aside. He didn’t need the two of you arguing with each other. You two bickered like siblings and now wasn’t the time for a pseudo-familial spat.

“I know you think you’re being funny, Henderson,” you started, continuing to jab at the tarps, “but considering the fact that everyone in this room has nearly died about a hundred times, personally, I don’t find it funny in the slight—“

Your words were cut off as a figure under the tarp sprung to life, grabbing you around the shoulders and pushing you against the wall. You heard the familiar flick of a pocket knife, feeling the sharp tip of the metal press against your throat. The boathouse erupted into a chorus of shrieks and screams, as you leaned your head back, unable to breathe as you stared wide-eyed at the boy you were tutoring for physics.

“Woah, woah, woah! Eddie! Eddie, stop!” Dustin shouted. He took a step closer and Eddie pushed you back farther into the wall, letting you all know that he wasn’t playing games. Steve felt like his whole world was crashing down around him. To Steve, Eddie’s actions confirmed that he was dangerous, that he had likely killed Chrissy, and that he was about to do the same thing to you. Steve’s mind was working double time trying to figure out how to get you away from the freak, as he started to take a huge step towards you when Robin roughly grabbed his arm, preventing him from getting any closer.

“Robin let go of me!” He shouted at her, trying to shake out of her grip.

“Steve,” she warned, and the way that she said it made him stop to reevaluate the situation, realizing the closer he got to you, the more he was putting your life in peril. A small cry escaped your lips as you tried to blink back tears, and Steve’s heart sank in his chest. He felt his hands trembling at his sides, wanting nothing more than to hold you and to tell you that everything was going to be okay, but watching as the knife threatened to break the skin of your neck, he wasn’t so sure he even believed the sentiment.

“It’s me, Dustin. This is y/n,” Dustin continued, gesturing to you, “she’s not going to hurt you, right, y/n?”

“Right, yeah,” you barely were able to whisper, the muscles in your neck all tensed as you tried to get as far away from the knife as possible. Your chest heaved as you swallowed and breathed out a shaky breath.

“Y/n, why don’t you drop the oar,” Dustin cautioned. You hadn’t even realized you were still holding it, barely even being able to feel the white knuckled grip you had on the handle. You willed your fingers to let go and as the oar crashed to the floor, the sudden sound caused Eddie to jump, leaning in farther and nicking your neck a bit in the process. You yelped in pain, and Steve started to freak out, unable to control his breathing. Robin continued to try and calm him down, but it wasn’t working super well.

“She’s cool, she’s cool!” Dustin reminded Eddie, still trying to talk him off of a cliff. Steve wished he had trusted his intuition earlier and kept you all far away from Eddie the freak Munson.

“I’m cool, man, I’m cool,” you spoke up, your voice shaky, “I’m helping you in Ms. O’Donell’s class, remember?”

“What are you doing here?” Eddie asked, his eyes wild as he refused to let you go.

“We’re looking for you, we’re here to help,” Dustin spoke up, “Eddie, these are my friends. You know Robin, from band. This is my friend Max, the one who never wants to play D&D. And obviously that’s Steve; I know you know him because you hate him, okay? Eddie, we are on your side. I swear on my mother, right guys?” He looked to the three of your friends behind him who all desperately nodded in agreement.

“Yes, yes, we swear!” Robin agree.

“Yeah, on Dustin’s mother,” you squeaked out. Eddie looked at you and you could tell he was acting out of fear. You knew this wasn’t him. That still didn’t quell the fear in your own chest as you spoke up once more to whisper, “please.”

Eddie paused, his eyes searching yours to try and determine your intention. He knew that you were a good person. Hell, you’d been helping him through fucking physics which wasn’t exactly a cake walk. Seeing the terror across your face as you whimpered, however, was what finally broke Eddie, as he finally let you go.

You let out a small cry as the tears you had been attempting to blink back finally spilled down your face while you crumpled to the floor. Steve rushed to your side, sitting on the floor with you, not unlike he had earlier in Family Video when the news came on. Your hand clutched at your neck. Even though Eddie had only just slightly nicked you, your blood had dripped enough to stain the collar of your shirt, and began to seep through your fingers as you held pressure to the cut. It stung like a bitch, but you were more scared than hurt.

“Hey, hey, hey, let me see, okay baby? Can you do that for me?” Steve asked softly, as one of his hands wrapped around the nape of your neck and the other gently tugged on your wrist. You obliged, trembling fingers dropping from your neck as you shook in Steve’s arms.

He used the sleeve of his jacket to put pressure on the cut to attempt to get it to stop bleeding. You took several deep breaths, wiping the tears away from your face as you began to finally calm down. It helped that you knew that Eddie wouldn’t hurt you on purpose. In your mind, he wasn’t a threat in the slightest, just a boy that was scared and needed some comforting.

“Eddie, we just want to talk,” you heard Dustin’s voice ring out in the empty boathouse. Eddie looked like a mess as he sat in a heap on the floor, looking equal parts defeated and terrified. Dustin tried to take the knife away from him, but Eddie tightened his grip so Dustin relented.

“We just want to know what happened,” you breathed out, your voice still shaky as you continued to calm down.

“You won’t believe me,” Eddie sniffled. You moved out of Steve’s grasp despite his protests, putting a gentle hand on Eddie’s shoulder. He tensed up but soon relaxed into your touch.

“Try us,” you replied. Eddie wasn’t sure if it was the look on your face or the sincerity in your voice, but he decided in that moment that he could trust you guys.

He began by explaining that she was at his house so that he could sell to her, discussing how everything had been fine and normal…until it very much wasn’t.

“…her body just, like, lifted up into the air and, uh…and she just, like, hung there. And her bones…uh, she…her bones started to snap. Her eyes, man…it-it was like there was something inside her head pulling,” he whimpered with a faraway look in his eyes, “I…I-I didn’t know what to do, so I…I ran away…I-I left her there,” he scoffed, “you all think I’m crazy, right?”

“No, we don’t think you’re crazy,” Dustin began to assure him, but Eddie quickly cut him off.

“Don’t bullshit me, man! I know how this sounds!”

You moved in between Eddie and Dustin, pushing Dusting behind you protectively. “Hey, we’re not bullshitting you,” you started, your tone leaning on frustrated, “we believe you and we’re probably the only people who fucking will, so I would suggest you find a way to calm down and shut the fuck up because what I’m about to tell you might be difficult to take.”

“Okay,” Eddie finally said. No one was really expecting you to be that blunt about things, but it needed to be said.

“You know how people say Hawkins is…cursed?” You started, trying to find the right words. Eddie nodded. “They’re not…way off. There’s another world; a world hidden beneath Hawkins. Sometimes it bleeds into ours,” your hand subconsciously went to the cut on your neck, the bleeding having finally trickled to a stop.

“Like ghosts and shit?” Eddie asked hesitantly.

“There are some things worse than ghosts,” Max spoke up quietly, and you felt a chill creep up your spine as she said it.

“These monsters from this other world,” Dustin continued, “we thought that they were gone, but they’ve come back before and that’s why we needed to find you.”

“If they’re back again, we need to know,” you emphasized.

“That night, did you see anything?” Robin questioned. You all waited with bated breath for Eddie’s answer. You were afraid of what he might say and Steve stepped forward and grabbed your hand, sensing your anxiety.

“No, man, there was nothing you could see or, uh…touch,” Eddie responded, “you know, I tried to wake her man, but she couldn’t move. It was like she was…she was in a trance or something.”

“Or under a spell…Vecna’s curse,” Dustin whispered.

“Who’s Vecna?” Steve asked, pulling you into his chest. He needed something to hold onto.

“An undead creature of great power,” Dustin answered and you shuddered thinking about it. You had thought you got rid of whatever entity was calling the shots from the Upside Down, but maybe you were wrong.

Maybe everything that had happened before was merely the beginning.

***

You all had taken turns recounting the last two years worth of events to Eddie as he sat there in silence trying to take it all in. After everything that he had seen, he really had no choice but to believe you guys, glad that you were all on his side. You promised the boy that you would be back with supplies in the morning, swiftly piling back into Steve’s car.

“Hey, you know when we had that really sweet convertible and I had you drive it up that big ass hill so we could use my radio?” Dustin suddenly spoke up.

“Yeah?” Steve responded, not quite sure where the boy was going with this.

“Well, bad news is we’re gonna need to go use it again before we all go home because I have an idea, but good news is that it’s at my house now so that’s cool.”

Steve sighed and you all silently made your way to Dustin’s house. There wasn’t much to talk about. You tiptoed through his kitchen to avoid waking his mother as you all crept up to his bedroom. He started messing with all his radio equipment as you sat on his bed. While he was searching for the right frequency, Steve darted out of the bedroom and into the hall bathroom, opening the cabinet under the sink and rifling through it. He found what he was looking for and quietly slipped back into Dustin’s bedroom.

“Here,” he said as he sat down next to you. You looked at him confused until you saw that he had a first aid kit in his hands. He took out an alcohol wipe and started cleaning up the dried blood on your neck. You hissed when the wipe touched your cut, the alcohol burning as he disinfected it. He put some antibiotic ointment on a band aid and placed it gingerly over the cut. He noticed some of the hickies he had left on your neck the night before, quickly moving your hair to make them more inconspicuous. “There. All better.”

You couldn’t help but flush with how sweet Steve was being. Even if the world was undoubtedly ending, at least you knew that he was going to be there for you. You could tell that he was on edge, probably more so given how Eddie had reacted, and you just appreciated that he wasn’t overreacting…yet.

Suddenly, Dustin’s Cerebro came to life, and you heard the distinctive sound of police chatter over the radio as you were clued into what the Hawkins police department knew of Eddie’s involvement in Chrissy’s death. Unfortunately, though not released to the public yet, Eddie was prime suspect number one.

“Shit!” Dustin exclaimed. “Fuck!”

“Woah, woah, whoa, calm down Dustin. We’re gonna figure all of this out okay? Freaking out isn’t going to make any of this shit easier, so we might as well all stay calm,” your voice was remarkably even as you said it and it was starting to freak the rest of your friends out. Of everyone here, you should by all accounts be the most freaked out.

“Look, I don’t think that we should split up, given everything that’s going on,” Steve spoke. “My parents aren’t home, so how about everyone spends the night at my house? You can all call your parents and make arrangements when we get there.”

Everyone agreed with Steve, and you all made your way out to his car, Dustin leaving a note to let his mom know he would be gone before he left. “Y/n? Are you, like, okay?” Max asked hesitantly. Your mind flashed back to what it felt like to have a knife held up to your throat.

“I’m fine, Max. I promise,” you said, but it didn’t sound very convincing. You were honestly more worried about the kids. You thought about the fact that they were deprived a normal childhood, and you couldn’t help but feel guilty about it. You were the babysitter, you were supposed to be the one to make sure that they were okay and safe and happy.

Steve finally pulled into his driveway, leading everyone inside and showing them around. “You all can sleep wherever. There’s a guest bedroom upstairs or you could sleep in the family room. I don’t care,” he sighed, just ready to go to sleep. Everyone got comfortable, Max and Robin choosing to sleep on the couches and Dustin taking the guest bedroom. You and Steve went to his room and you collapsed onto his bed.

“This can’t be happening again,” you spoke up as exhaustion from the day’s events settled in your bones.

“Yeah, I can’t quite believe it either,” Steve said, flopping down on the bed next to you. “Y/n, you have to promise me something okay?”

“What?”

“That if this all gets to be too much again, we call it quits. We get the kids out, we get Robin out, we get the hell out.”

“Steve,” you looked at him, trying to read his expression, “I can’t make that promise.”

“Y/n, everything has been escalating. First it was just one demogorgon, then it was a fuck ton of demo-dogs, then it was Russians and a giant flesh monster…I don’t know how we can handle anything worse, I mean we barely handled everything last summer!” He exclaimed, shaking his head at you. You could tell he was getting more irate, anger seeping into his tone.

“Steve, we either do nothing and die when the whole fucking world ends, or we do something and maybe die trying, or better yet, we fix the fucking problem and never have to worry about it again,” you replied, sitting up, slightly irritated with his tone. He stood up, looking down at you with a furrowed brow as he continued.

“You’re not understanding, y/n. Look, someone died. Unexplainably, just up and died in the most gruesome fucking way. We don’t know anything about how it happened or why or if it will happen again, and I’ll be damned if it happens to one of us, okay. Just promise me.”

“Steve, I can’t, and you know I can’t.”

Steve scoffed, trying to find the right words. He felt anxiety creep up in his chest as he decided that now was as good a time as any to get really fucking real with you. “Y/n. I want a future with you. We can’t fucking have that if one of us is dead.”

“We can’t have a future if the world fucking ends either. I have a massive fucking headache and I just want to go to bed, okay?” You got up and began changing into pajamas, and you heard Steve sigh behind you. He remembered his pinky promise to you in the woods that you were in this together. If you couldn’t make a promise to him, the best he could do was uphold his.

“Fine. But I’m not gonna be able to live with myself if something happens to you,” he warned as he crawled into bed, scooting towards you to spoon you. It was odd how casually you two could have a conversation like this, about the end of the world and the possibility of losing each other at any given moment.

“Nothing is going to happen to me,” you replied, turning in his arms and placing a kiss to his chest. You willed the words to be true as you drifted off to sleep in his arms.

***

Dustin threw the door open to the boathouse and you rolled your eyes, knowing it would likely scare the shit out of Eddie. You seemed to be right as you heard him shout from across the room, finally making it into the shed to see him pressed up against the back wall, knife extended out in front of him.

“Delivery service,” Dustin smiled at his friend. You waved sheepishly at Eddie, hoping that he could find it in his heart to forgive you guys for nearly giving him a heart attack…twice.

You all moved to stand around the boat as Eddie sat down in it, tearing into a box of cereal and eating it as if he hadn’t had a meal in days…which to be fair he probably hadn’t.

“So we have some good news and some bad news. How do you prefer it?” Dustin cut to the chase.

“Bad news first, always,” Eddie spoke through a mouthful of food. Your nose scrunched up in disgust as you scanned the room, noticing similar expressions painted on Robin and Max’s faces.

“We tapped into the Hawkins PD dispatch with Dustin’s Cerebro, and they’re definitely looking for you,” you quickly spoke up as you gave the boy a sympathetic look.

“Also, they’re uh, pretty convinced you killed Chrissy,” Dustin chimed in.

“Like, 100% kind of convinced,” Max agreed. You rolled your eyes. So much for breaking the news softly.

“And the good news?”

“Your name hasn’t gone public yet. But if we found out about you, it’s only a matter of time before others do too, and once that gets out, everyone and their shallow-minded mother will be gunning for you,” Robin spoke up.

“Hunt the freak, right?” Eddie clarified, his eyes staring off, unfocused.

“Exactly,” Robin breathed out.

“So before that happens, we need to find Vecna, kill him, and prove your innocence,” Dustin outlined.

“That’s all, Dustin? That’s all?” Eddie fumed. Sure he loved the Henderson kid, but the boy got on his damn nerves like all the time, and this was one of those moments.

“Believe it or not, we’ve been through this kind of thing before…a few times actually,” you reassured Eddie, hoping that your words would calm his nerves but that was definitely a bit of a stretch.

“You’re telling me that you, Ms. 4.0, have been off fighting monsters while maintaining a perfect GPA?” Eddie asked in disbelief. “Bullshit.”

“I know, it’s pretty impressive,” Steve spoke up, throwing an arm around you, “we usually rely on this girl with super powers but, uh, those went bye-bye.”

“So we’re kind of in more of the brainstorming phase,” Robin spoke up and you all nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, you really have nothing to worry about,” Dustin reassured Eddie, but all of you knew that that was far from the truth. There was definitely a shit ton of stuff to worry about. Before Eddie could ask anymore questions, you all heard sirens wailing in the distance. He quickly covered up with the tarp as you all ran to the window, watching as several emergency vehicles passed right by Reefer Rick’s house.

A sinking feeling settled in your stomach as you concluded that there must be another body. You all raced to Steve’s car again, following the waling sound of sirens, afraid of what you’d find.

***

a/n: thanks for reading people of tumblr! If you wanted to reblog, I promise I wouldn’t be mad ;)

taglist:

@season4steve @sassyheroneckgiant @tangledinthegreatxscape @maeve-wileyy @palachannie @chaerfull @usaguisenpaisblog @emilieluckwood @sabrinadelreyy @mochminnie @xprloki @kitdjarin1 @kissmxcheek @daemonskitty @bethsvrse @aheadfullofsteverogers

[askinkiskarma]

ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ᴅᴀʏ ɪɪɪ - ᴛʜɪɢʜ ʀɪᴅɪɴɢ

pairing: dilf!jake x human!reader (part of False God)

➽ a/n: i wrote this literally an hour before posting so i hope you besties enjoy x i was gonna reuse an older jake drabble but @jakexneytiri inspired this, so blame her hahahaha. dilf!jake will never not make me feral and weepy, much like our reader is. this drabble is also loosely based in False God, because the dynamic seemed to fit them. anyway i will stop rambling enjoyyy x

➽ words: 600 words

➽ warnings: it goes without saying, but all of these works (kinktober-related) are smut and therefore minors should NOT interact with them. other warnings include: slightly mean!jake, dacryphilia, pet names (doll, kid), p in v

➽ taglist (x) ➽ kinktober masterlist (x)

“Daddy…” the half mewl, half-whine you let out wasn’t lost on Jake, who, whilst couldn’t quite see your face, immediately perked at the name that will never cease to send blood shooting straight to his cock. He didn’t know how there was any blood left in his body, his erection so hard it was painful, twitching and throbbing, begging for your tight little cunt to wrap around him, to milk him 'til the last drop, 'til his seed was forever imprinted on your walls. But now wasn’t the time - patience is a virtue, one Jake has had to learn in time, in his 43 years on Earth and maybe even more so here, on Pandora. You weren’t ready. You were so small - too small -, a tiny, ineffectual human who somehow managed to pull him away from the life he’s built, with your beauty and your brains, with your inquisitive mind and your warm, inviting heart. You needed an orgasm, or three, to get your pretty pussy ready for him, for him to breed you like he envisioned and give into his worst, most delirious fantasies. 

So here you were, after your third orgasm, still pouncing vigorously on his leg, that was glistening even in the dim light peering through the curtains, the sound of your moans, mingled perfectly with the slapping of skin on skin, enough to drive him into a frenzy. 

“What’s wrong, doll? Tell daddy what’s on your mind.” 

The hands rested forcefully on either one of your hips, pressing your swollen folds to his lustrous, muscular, tensed thigh released their deathly grip on you, settling instead for a comforting caress of your abdomen, drawing circles into the plush of your skin.

“You’re being mean.” 

Your sniffles spurred him on, cock dripping in pre-cum and spilling down his balls, and he found himself reaching for your armpits, twirling you around like one of those Barbies that you had hanging on your bookshelf, a keepsake of a life you’ll never have. You winced softly as you were placed back down on his lower abdomen, finding steadiness on his abs, marvelling once more, as you always found yourself doing, at his body that felt carved by Eywa herself, at his bulging muscles, at the way he was able to make your body scream and writhe in the fine line between pleasure and pain until you were a weeping mess, much like right now. 

His thumbs were gentle as they wiped the tears from your face, but there was a smugness to him, a mischievous glint haunting his beautiful irises. 

“Went a little too far now, did I, kid? D’you need to get fucked dumb on daddy’s cock now?”

You moaned in between pitiful nods, cunt desperate to be filled to the brim with him, the emptiness too overwhelming to be denied anymore. As he raised you once more, your heart fluttered, excitement coursing through your veins as he aligned his cock to your needy entrance. The tip was all you needed to feel stretched beyond belief already, and your head fell backwards, eyes shut in the desire that pushed to the side the pain when the reward was all you’ve ever wanted. 

“That’s right - fu-uck! There you go, princess. Let daddy make it up to you, huh?"

You could think about the consequences of your actions tomorrow, but right now, all you can think about is him, and the next 3 orgasms he’d coax out of you before you’d inevitably pass out of exhaustion, cock drunk and satisfied, as always. 

taglist: taglist: @pandoraslxna @sulieykte @blue-slxt @eywaeveng @neteyamsikran @elenamoncada-ibarra @spicymayyo @itsjazzsworld @daddysmurfslefttoenail @eyrina-avatar @iameatingmyhair @neteyamyawne @eyweveng @tiredwitch1113

[esamastation]

Part fifty-one of Shizuroth, aka, the SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun.

Ao3 link.

Previous parts: forty, forty-one, forty-two, forty-three, forty-four, forty-five, forty-six, forty-seven forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty

-

"Angeal Hewley speaking."

"Well, you sound chipper tonight. Is Wutai not treating you right?"

"Oh. Hello, Genesis. How are things in Midgar?"

"Things are… they are such as they are. The work of a hero never ends. And so forth."

"That good, huh?"

"Mmm. Now do tell me why you sound like someone gone trampling all over your honour."

"Heh, nothing so bad, I promise. Just, you know. Sephiroth."

"More of his glowing Alignment practice?"

"..."

"Oh, so it's something new now? Do tell! All of us in Midgar are dying to know how things are developing. How is the Healer of Worlds doing?"

"... I guess the Turks have already reported it. Well. For one, he's learned how to fly."

"... Come again?"

"Sephiroth learned to fly. Or, I guess, it's more like weightlessness? He can make himself feather-light and just jump on tree tops and glide around."

"... Angeal, my dear friend, this isn't time for jokes."

"Oh, I'm not joking, Genesis, I'm really not. He can fly now. It's really something. He didn't so much explain as he insinuated, but I think it's some kind of gravity or mass manipulation that he can now do. Because of his Alignment practice. Apparently it's bearing fruit."

"... Wonderful. Infinite in mystery is the gift of the Goddess. We seek it thus, and take to the sky. Some of us literally."

"Suppose that's one interpretation of it."

"Tch. And I suppose by now the Good Professor has been informed, and we will be hearing of these developments from him directly."

"Probably, yeah."

"Tch. Well, I suppose it would be nice to know how to fly. How many of us will end up with our wings clipped before such heights are achieved, forever…"

"Genesis…"

"They still don't admit that there have been deaths. Janson was supposedly killed in action, but he wasn't even on a mission at the time. The others have been cadets, but it's only a matter of time."

"I'm sorry. I wish I was there."

"No you don't. Be glad you aren't - though, as G type SOLDIERs, you and I aren't compatible with these new methods anyway. Such fortune we have, such graces we have been granted."

"We all signed up for this. We all volunteered, in order to enter the program."

"Yes, and not a single one of us knew what that meant. Well, except perhaps for Sephiroth. Not that he ever truly signed up. You know, I have been looking into his history, I've dug out his medical records, trying to figure out what they are after -"

"Genesis, that's a breach of trust -"

"The lives of my men matter to me more than Sephiroth's secrets and pride. Not that the files were any help - the story they paint is more a horror story than anything. Whatever Hojo is trying to recreate, if it takes as many experiments as Sephiroth has gone through…"

"I thought they already nailed down the cause. The overdose, right?"

"That's the prevalent theory, yes. But after the first few cases of Mako Poisoning and death, they rather gave up on recreating that particular experiment at least."

"They gave up? But, aren't they still calling SOLDIERs in for extra doses?"

"They are, but there's not as much Mako in it. They're injecting something else, now - more of the carrier agent, supposedly - though Goddess alone knows how many had to be resuscitated for them to get the point."

"... What's the current total of casualties?"

"Four deaths including Janson and seven in coma, two of them SOLDIER. Oh, and one confirmed brain death, which is just lovely."

"A SOLDIER?"

"No… a cadet. What they're keeping him alive for I don't know, but… there we have it."

"... Shit."

"Angeal Hewley, is that cursing I hear?! What a day to be alive."

"Very funny. How do you know about what's going on in the labs? I thought they'd pretty much banned you from them?"

"They did, but I have my ways."

"... Right. Do your ways explain why Lazard isn't doing anything about this?"

"Not much he can do. Hojo will do what he wants, and he'd promised Heidegger a new, higher class of SOLDIER after this, so you can imagine his reaction. And of course the President is all for it!"

"Ah, I… see."

"Indeed. You know what they're saying in the labs now? They're saying that SOLDIERs were created to be the second coming of the Ancients. That we were supposed to be able to, among other things, cast spells without the need of Materia."

"I… heard something like that too, a long time ago, but I didn't put much stock in it. It sounded a bit too fantastical for me."

"Well, supposedly, that's exactly what they wanted. They gave up on it, because, well, it didn't work, and because the side effects were even more useful. Superhuman soldiers! Much better than Ancient myths, when you have a war to be fought. Only now the war is almost over, and Sephiroth has apparently figured out how to fly."

"Ah."

"I can only imagine the consequences this will have."

"Yes, um. There's something else."

"Something else? Angeal, please don't tell me you're been holding out for me."

"Well, not really, but, um. Did you know Sephiroth can speak and read the Wutai language?"

"... I didn't, but I'm not surprised. Among SOLDIERs he's spent the most time over there."

"Well, I didn't know. The Turks didn't know. I don't think it's in his file either."

"Another thing he's been keeping to himself and can no longer remember why?"

"Maybe, but, Genesis, there's… another thing. There was a group of Wutai warriors that we intercepted, and Sephiroth had a one-in-one duel with their captain - and then he spoke with him. In their language. Now, I can't understand written Wutai at all, but I can sort of follow the conversations…"

"I am duly impressed, my friend. Though more with the idea of Sephiroth having a conversation with a Wutai soldier - after having a duel with them. What, did he raise their spirit somehow?"

"Very funny, but no, he didn't kill the man. That's not the point - Genesis, the Wutai Captain called Sephiroth's accent ancient."

"... Angeal, you're kidding me."

"Not like Ancient ancient. I'm pretty sure the moniker they use for Ancients is different. Ancestor, maybe? Something like that. Anyway, Deng Yuto called Sephiroth's accent ancient, meaning really old."

"... Huh. So to recap, Sephiroth gets a massive dose of Mako, flatlines, comes back, forgets almost everything about himself, develops some new habits, has a bunch of strange questions about the way Materia, Mako, EXP and MP work… and now he's developing new magical abilities, and speaking a language like someone from a long time ago."

"That's about the size of it."

"Damn."

"... Yeah."

"... Hey, Angeal?"

"Yes, Genesis?"

"I think I have a theory of what's going on."

"I thought you might."

-

Lmao I have no idea where this is going 👀🍿

[animentality]

Do you think Gortash would still love Durge even after their bad ending (you know when they betray Bhaal and choose to surrender themselves to prison at the end) and they’ve gone mad?

For example, let’s say in an alternate scenario where Gortash survives at the end of the game. All the other companions have abandoned Durge, do you think Gortash would step in and try to help them? Do anything?

I've wracked my brain at night thinking about it.

On the one hand, the part of me that looks exclusively at in game Gortash says that Gortash wouldn't love them without power and without reason.

Because the more canon aligned Gortash is more pragmatic than emotional and although I do think his feelings verged into the impractical, he still fundamentally needs balance.

He's a domineering kind of guy, he gets along with Durge because they refused to be cowed in any way by him, and he dared not pity them or treat them with anything less than the utmost respect.

He can't sweep them under his tidal wave of personality, he crashes upon their shore, and they chip away at each other, grain by grain, in a tumultuous but steady balance.

they had a tango, you know. two partners working together. sex and love stemmed from something other than practicality, but it was practicality that brought them together initially.

He loves the Dark Urge for their power and reason, and without those two things... maybe he wouldn't seek them out.

especially not after they betrayed him.

and I don't know. the more assholish Gortash would see their alliance as having reached its inevitable conclusion. the more... emotional but distant Gortash would say, goodbye, old friend.

I wish you could've escaped your master, as I escaped mine.

and he wouldn't see them again.

but canon aligned Gortash is underwritten anyway.

so I'll do Larian's job for them and say...

well.

it could go either way.

I can see Gortash abandoning them because he is literally unable to look upon his former love, completely without freewill, and not feel soul crushing, life ending despair.

I could see it being too painful to see them when he knows he can't help them and they can't be helped by anyone, and they're gone, and he has to accept that.

again.

but I can also see...

a determined Gortash.

who has nothing now, except perhaps a desire for revenge against Durge. but as they are, mad and alone and insatiable, why even bother, right?

Bhaal has tortured them more than Gortash ever could.

maybe he keeps them locked in a basement somewhere, and at first it's just to lord it over them. mock their failure, their inability to prevent themselves from becoming like this.

in the beginning, he's still bitter about his plan failing and he blames them. to him, maybe it's a cosmic justice...

he says you could've ruled the world with me at your side and Bhaal and Bane at our backs.

but you chose this instead.

but as time goes on, his heart softens and he starts wondering if they're in there somewhere.

the only person who could understand him.

whom he could understand truly.

and maybe they're down there somewhere, trying to be understood again.

so he shows them things he hopes they remember about the life they shared together for a brief but important time. maybe books they talked about. blueprints he showed them of his future inventions. their notebooks, left behind. their old clothing, left over after long nights spend fucking and arguing.

maybe he tries to find a cure. he has some medical expertise, right? from dissecting people. maybe he tries to find a solution, some way to bring them back. maybe he pours himself into studies of bhaalspawn and deeper magic, trying to find some way to bring back a person whose mind has been ravaged into nothing.

but worst case scenario ...

he has to give up on all that... and give them the death he knows they would've asked for, had they been conscious.

so.

yeah.

anon. I've thought of it.

[charmedreincarnation]

Time doesn’t exist you already have your desires!!

As you may have heard before, some of the greatest minds in the world have been pondering this idea for centuries. Albert Einstein famously said: “Time is an illusion.”

But what does that mean, exactly?

At a fundamental level, time is simply a construct of our own making. We make up the idea of time passing as a way to measure and make sense of our lives, but in reality, time doesn’t actually exist. So, if we accept the idea that time is an illusion, then it follows that the idea of manifesting our desires right now is not just possible but inevitable

The key to manifesting our desires is to believe that they are already available to us. We need to be able to see the possibilities that are available to us if we open our minds and hearts to them. We also need to be willing to take action that aligns with our desired outcome. We need to focus on the present moment and put in the effort and energy required to accomplish our goals. If we keep our focus on the present moment and take action, then the universe will be able to manifest our desires.

But regardless Time is a tricky concept. We often think of it in a linear fashion, believing that everything is happening at the same time, but this isn’t the case. In fact, that’s a rather simplistic view of how time works.

Let’s consider the basics of time. We measure it in seconds, minutes, hours and days. These are arbitrary measurements, based on the rotation of the Earth and other celestial bodies. The sun rises and sets, creating what we call a day. This is our natural unit of time, but we break it down further in order to keep track of our activities.

If we take a closer look, time is really just our perception of change. Change is all around us, and time allows us to measure it. We may feel like time is fleeting or moving quickly, but in reality time is a constant. One second is always one second, no matter how fast or slow we perceive it to be.

Time can be viewed as an illusion. We can’t experience everything at once, so we experience moments sequentially. This is why we have multiple clocks - digital, analog and other types - because they help us measure the differences between points in time.

That said, there are numerous theories that attempt to explain the concept of time. Some people believe that time is cyclical, meaning that everything happens in a repeating pattern. Others believe that it’s an illusion created by our perception of events. And then there are those who believe in a multidimensional view of time, with each individual moment connected to the others in an infinite web.

Regardless of which theory you subscribe to, the bottom line is this - time is relative. We see it differently depending on our own experiences and understanding of the world. Our perception of time may be skewed and unreliable, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist - it just means that we have to use our brains to make sense of it.

How does this apply to manifesting

Have you ever been waiting impatiently for something only to have it suddenly appear or manifest in your life? This could be in the form of a job, a relationship, or any other desired situation or object. You may have been waiting for weeks or months only to have it come to you in an instant.

This is because time isn’t actually an absolute reality; it’s just our perception of reality. The truth is that everything is happening in the present moment. There’s no past or future, only the now. This means that whatever you’re looking for is already here – you just haven’t seen it yet.

So how do we access our desires? The answer lies in shifting our consciousness into the present moment. Instead of thinking of our desires as something that we need to create or manifest, we can instead bring our awareness to the here and now. Accepting what’s happening in the present moment gives us access to what we want right away.

This doesn’t mean that the goal of manifesting our desires isn’t important, it just means that trying to force things into existence isn’t necessary. Instead, by being mindful of the present moment and releasing any attachment or expectations about what will happen, you create a space for your desires to organically manifest themselves in your life. This includes shifitng

In the vast sea of scientific theories, multiverse theory stands out as a fascinating hypothesis. It proposes the existence of multiple universes in addition to our own. While the concept of parallel universes has been around for centuries, the current scientific understanding of multiverse theory is fairly new.

The basis of multiverse theory in congruency to time is the idea that time is not linear. Instead, it’s a fluid concept that can move backward and forward, and bend and change at will. This means that time isn’t just a line, but multiple branches and pathways that lead to different outcomes.

It’s easy to see how this could explain the concept of multiple universes. Depending on the choices we make and roads we take, we could end up moving from one universe to another. The variations in time could explain why we live in one universe and not another.

But why does this matter?

Well, for starters, multiverse theory has implications for two major scientific fields: quantum physics and cosmology. By better understanding the concept of multiple universes, scientists can unlock more secrets about the universe, from uncovering its history to ultimately understanding the future.

Multiverse theory also gives us a better understanding of how each of our choices could shape our future. It proposes that for every choice we make, a new future path is created, giving us an almost infinite number of new possibilities. This is what we know as shifting and manifesting in the simplest terms

It’s an incredible concept, and one that continues to have researchers fascinated. By studying multiverse theory, scientists can gain a greater understanding of our universe and its place within the multiverse. It’s an immense topic of study with limitless possibilities

The reality is that our lives are happening all at once, take a moment and think about it – have you ever had a déjà vu experience? That feeling of familiarity where you feel like you’ve already been somewhere or experienced a certain event. It’s because you already have.

It is this non-linear notion of time that allows us to manifest our desires. Your desires already exist in the present moment, but your limited awareness of the present moment makes them appear to be in the future. When we focus our awareness on the present moment, we can begin to access and experience the manifestation of our desires even though they appear to be in a future reality. Manifesting works because we live in a limitless universe that supports us and has our best interest at heart. So if we can accept that time doesn’t exist and that our desires are already ours, we can begin to manifest our dreams and create the life that we desire instantly.

[2stepadmiral]

Something I love about Luke, Leia, and Han is that before the Skywalker twins reached their mid twenties, the trio shared about three braincells.

I mean, before the Death Star, Leia and Han probably had a respectable amount each (Leia needed to be smart as an up and coming Rebellion leader and Han definitely was clever as a smuggler and conman), but after that first argument in the detention hall in the middle of a desperate firefight that culminated in a dive into the trash compactor, some cosmic alignment of their inner natures mixed with the will of the Force resulted in both of them being brought down to Luke’s level.

Now, over the years, they all became much smarter and better at working together, but right from the death star onwards for the first few years, they shared about three brain cells. Individually, each of the three were in possession of maybe one at all times, and were decently competent on their own. Luke was a great pilot and field commander, Leia was a fine strategist and mission planner and inspirational leader, and Han, of course, was a very competent smooth talker and mechanic, as well as a brilliant pilot. But put them together in a room, or on a mission together, and usually one of them is going to end up with all three brain cells while the others are up on their shit.

Luke usually ends up with the brain cells when Han and Leia are bickering. The slightest thing sets them off, and suddenly Luke is the voice of reason, which she is very much not used to being.

“I thought you said this was a shortcut, not the front doorstep to an Imperial station for the sector.”

“Hey, I’ve slipped through this way a dozen times before, and never had any trouble. You were supposed to be monitoring the base.”

“Oh, sure, captain, blame me for you forgetting there is an imperial outpost over here.”

“ < exasperated sigh> Alright, Chewie, let’s power up the guns, and hope that these two don’t crash into a Star Destroyer.”

When Leia has all three, it’s usually because Han is on some reckless Corellian daredevil kick, and Luke is in adventure crazed teenager living his dream mode and is too focused on his x-wing or his squadron to see the big picture. Both mindsets are often at least indirectly because of the influence of Wedge Antilles and Tycho Celchu.

“Luke, stop fiddling with your X-wing, we have a scouting mission.

“One second, I’ve almost got the inertial dampeners just where I need them. Wedge and I were talking, and I think if we have these in sync during our next mission, we should be able to reduce drag by 1.56%.”

“You can finish when we get back.”

“ Wait, we’re not taking Rogue Squadron?”

“<sigh> what part of scouting mission did you miss? and where is Han?”

“I think he’s with Wedge and Tycho.“

“Oh no. What laser brain stunt did they dare him to try this time?“

“…Well, they might’ve said something about flying the falcon through the gap of a communication tower on an Imperial II Star Destroyer?”

“Kriffing Corellians. And you didn’t think to order Wedge and Tycho to stay away from Han?”

“…Han is good for squadron morale.”

“<sigh>”

And on the disturbingly frequent occasions when Han is in possession of the brain cells, it is, without fail, because Leia is in full devotion to the cause of the rebellion mode, and Luke is in strange-mystic-Jedi-shit-is-calling-me-and-I-must-answer-the-call mode.

“Hey, princess, are you still on that Agamar campaign?”

“The people of Agamar need our help, Han. I need to figure out a way to neutralize these Golan batteries.”

“Um, sure, OK, but we’re currently on a completely different mission, and I kind of need you to be ready to man the guns when we get there.”

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be just fine when we get to Ord Mantell.”

“Ord Mantell? Uh, this is a mission to Taris.”

“What? oh, you’re right, sorry. I’ve just planned so many of our next few missions, I kind of forgot which one we’re on.”

“… When’s the last time you ate?”

“I’ll eat once I figured out how to bring down these Golan shields.”

“…Hey, Luke? Any chance you could talk her worshipfulness into having some rations? …Kid?”

“ what? oh, sorry, Han, I was reading this account on spirituality by Plo Koon, and I thought I might’ve heard Ben’s voice coming from the engine room.”

“…Ben Kenobi is dead, Luke.”

“I know, Han, but sometimes, I can hear his voice through the Force, guiding me, helping me. I’ve been trying to research why and have been reading these journals Ben had in his home on Tatooine, and…”

“Kid, when’s the last time you ate anything?”

“… now that you mention it, I’m not sure.”

“…”

Moments like these are frequent until maybe Hoth, and after Endor, these moments become very occasional and much more casual as the trio becomes closer and more accustomed to each other’s quirks.

“I thought you fixed the deflector oscillator before we left!”

“I did! Don’t blame me if the Alliance stuck me with substandard parts.”

“Save it for later, you two, or you’d better let me and Chewie take over while you sort it out. I have a Star Destroyers coming up on our bow, and Zsinj would love to hear that the Falcon was shot down.”

“Fair point, kid. We’ll discuss this later, princess.”

“Fine by me. I’ll try and get those shields dialed in.”

Or,

“Luke, I need you to come with us. I’m meeting with the Queen of Naboo, and I need you as an escort.”

“Sure, Leia. Let me just finish these adjustments and I’ll be ready to fly. Oh, no X-wing?”

“Not this time. Have you seen Han?”

“I think that he went to help Wedge and Tycho perform reflex tests on the new rogue squadron recruits. They should be down at the gorge.”

“With speed bikes, I presume?”

“I think so, but Han told me to tell you he would be careful. And wear a helmet.”

“Well, I guess that’s something.”

Or,

“Han, give me my data pad, I need to prepare for the meeting with the delegation from Ryloth.”

“The Twi’lek research can wait until you finish your supper, Leia. It’s in the gallery, I made plenty, and don’t come back until you’ve had at least two portions. You need to keep your strength up while you’re helping to build the New Republic. Mon Mothma can’t expect you to do everything without even having a proper meal every now and again.”

“… Can I continue while I eat?”

“Not until you’ve had at least one full plate. <sound of grabbing a holocron> You too, kid. You need to stop making me be the responsible one around here.”

“Han, you know that I can just grab that back from you with the Force?”

“Yeah, and what kind of message would that send to the galaxy about the new Jedi? They go around stealing holocrons instead of just eating their dinner like a normal person? Go on, have some food. I made some Karkan ribenes with tomo-spice.”

And right around the time they start figuring this dynamic out, they start to notice that Chewie is less irritated with the three of them. Little do they know, because, again, three brain cells shared between the three of them, that Chewbacca has been actively trying to loan them any of the hundreds of brain cells he’s accumulated over the course of his 200 year long Wookie life and has been furious with how unresponsive to his wisdom they have been.