#so it gives me something to look forward to more than anything

[choslut]

˖ ࣪ ، ◞ せ⌇ SWEET TALK. featuring choso.

↻ choso lives for one thing ; to make sure his precious girlfriend is never unsatisfied.

tags : cunniligus, dirty talk, body worship, male masturbation, overstimulation, squirting, fingering, mentions of face sitting, feral choso // wc. 0.7k

author's note : i lowkey wanna thank @toadtoru for sending in an ask about this before i even posted it, because i used some of those ideas to improve on this :3 in true homage to my username choso is a complete slut in this lolsies ;) one more to go and this event is finished, thanks for sticking around for THIS long i love everyone here >o<

this work is NSFW. minors and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT.

if there’s one thing CHOSO firmly believes in, it’s that you aren’t just his girlfriend, but some supreme deity from heaven above. it sounds completely ridiculous, but he believes it more than anything, especially in moments like this. 

you just look so beautiful above him on the couch, thighs parted slightly and fingers caressing the sensitive mound in between your legs, head tipped back and lips parted in a silent ‘o’ as your toes curl into the carpet. angelic, he thinks, and he can’t wait to receive permission to touch you.

“choso…” your voice is smooth like butter yet sweet like caramel, and choso can feel his cock begin to press up against his slacks. “c’mere.”

yes. that’s all he needs before he’s eagerly crawling in between your legs to lap at your cunt, fingers digging into the fat of your thighs as he pulls them apart in earnest. “shit… missed me, did she?” his rambles are fueled by pure lust and delusion, and as he eats you out, choso begins to talk into your cunt. “missed her too… poor baby can’t go too long without her sweet boyfriend, huh…”

fingers tangle in his dark locks as you pull him closer, effectively muffling his ramblings by grinding your lower half on his tongue. the way he eats you out is feverish, his wet muscle alternating between your inflamed clit and pulsing hole interchangeably. and choso can’t help himself from getting fired up by your lewd display too, his own hips grinding down onto  the couch as he finds solace in between your legs. 

you, on the other hand, are positively reeling, legs twitching uncontrollably as choso continues to make a mess of your poor cunt. you wish you could return to him the same pleasure tenfold, but all you can do is sit and take it, helpless to his ministrations. “cho, cho, ‘s too much, baby, s-slow down…” 

begging is futile. choso is hypnotised, his own eyes rolling into the back of his head in an immediate reflection of your own reaction. “sorry baby, can’t, you taste s’good, don’t wanna…”

neither of you are in your right mind, but choso especially. when you cry out from orgasm for the first time, he barely takes note, his tongue on your clit never letting up as he brings two fingers to the entrance of your weeping cunt. the other hand previously on your thigh is now shoved into his boxers, and he’s fisting himself just as quickly as his fingers begin to plow your pussy. 

he’s killing you, but you love it. his brown eyes peek up in between your legs, and you just catch his expression, pupils dilated with lust as he watches you twitch above him. he mumbles something onto your clit before he’s licking and kissing it again, and you begin to think you might actually die. 

“c’mon, baby,” he groans, hips thrusting forward into his palm as he continues to eat. “c’mon baby, gimme another one– fuck, please, please…”

“choso, i can’t…” you truly believe that, given the way he’s already on his way to giving you another orgasm in the short span of five minutes. but he needs it so bad, needs you to cum for him so bad that he speeds up, thumb now joining his tongue to stimulate your clit in unison. “choso!”

“that’s it, baby, that’s it, oh, she’s close, isn’t she?” you can barely believe that he’s treating your pussy like its own person, but fuck is it turning you on. you hiccup pitiful whimpers as your thighs begin to tremble again, knees closing inwards and trapping choso’s head in between your legs.

if he were to die in this position, he wouldn’t mind. your release sprays his lips in repeated spurts, juices dribbling down his chin and some even dripping onto the flared head of his cock. it’s that which tips choso over the edge, and he’s spurting ropes onto the carpet, his own eyes finding the back of his head rapidly as his nose jerks against your clit.

“baby…” he stares down at the mess he’s made on the floor and then back at you, who’s laying spread eagle on the couch, chest rapidly rising and falling. “you gotta sit on my face next time.”

PREVIOUS : SURVIVAL ft. sniper mask NEXT : INKED ft. suguru geto

liked that? check out the WE’RE SO BACK main masterlist.

© choslut 2024 — do not copy, repost or translate my works without permission.

[gotham--fc]

Hotheaded - A Jessie Fleming Imagine

Request: Jessie and R play on the same team and someone gets angry at R and gets in her face and Jessie steps in to stop it

Y/N knows she’s the hothead in her relationship. Jessie is just always so calm and collected, and even when she’s not, she usually vents her frustrations to the ref or her own teammates. Y/N takes her frustrations out on the other team. It leads to confrontations on the field, warnings from the ref and her fair share of cards. If someone is going to push her buttons, she’s going to make them regret it.

It’s a chippy game. Both teams are tired, both in playoff pushes, and both feel the need to take all three points from this match. Games like these always end in a plethora of bruises and feeling incredibly sore the next day, but it’s also games like these that get Y/N fired up.

“You’re not good enough to stop me so you gotta foul me instead, huh?” Y/N says after the other team’s defender trips her again.

“Maybe if you weren’t so focused on me you could finally hit a shot on target,” The other player smirks at her and Y/N huffs in frustration.

Y/N leaves the defender where she is and goes to set up for the set piece. The game is deadlocked and Y/N will be damned if the other team scores first.

The kick comes to nothing, and Y/N claps her hands together. Next chance, next chance she’ll score it.

A few minutes later, Y/N streaks down the wing calling for the ball and easily dekes around her defender and dribbles the ball towards the net. She cuts to the middle and she can feel it, this is the chance, there’s only the goalie in her way, and she knows she can beat her, she knows she’ll score, she – she falls face first on the ground. She spits grass out of her mouth and looks up at the defender who pushed her.

“Ref that’s a red!” Y/N yells. The defender scoffs.

“I barely touched you, you dove.”

Y/N ignores her.

“Ref! Are you gonna card her or what?”

The ref runs over and gives the defender a warning, that’s it, a warning and nothing more. Y/N is furious. She’s off her feet trying to plead her case to the ref, but the ref won’t hear it. Y/N stares at the ref in helpless frustration as the ref ignores her.

“Leave it Y/N,” Jessie tugs Y/N’s arm, “Get ready for the free kick.”

Jessie goes to the get the ball, placing it where the ref indicates. Y/N goes to where she’s supposed to stand. The defender jogs past her and looks over her shoulder as she does.

“Yeah, go listen to your little girlfriend. Do you always let her boss you around or are you more than just talk?”

“Why don’t you say that to my fucking face?!” Y/N yells, “Fucking coward, you’ve had enough to say to my back this whole game!”

The defender whips back around, charging forward and getting in Y/N’s face. Y/N doesn’t back down, getting up in hers right back. They’re yelling insults at each other, both waiting for the other to make the first move. The defender lightly pushes Y/N back so Y/N slaps her hands away and gives her a push, a harder one. It only dissolves from there, both of them shouting and pushing and their teammates trying to pull them apart, the ref blowing the whistle.

“Stop!” Jessie’s voice shouts above the rest. “You’ll get a red if you keep acting like this! We need you in this game Y/N! She’s not worth it!”

Finally the pair are separated enough. Y/N is still glaring at her, daring at her to say something else so they can start up again. Jessie grabs the sides of Y/N’s face and turns her away.

“Stop it, we need you in this game,” Jessie repeats, “Do you want to win this game?”

“Of course I want to win! I also want to punch her in her stupid–”

“Do you want to win or do you want a red and a suspension for fighting?” Jessie asks, “She’s not worth it, let it go.”

Y/N sighs. She’s not ashamed to admit it, she’s whipped. Everyone knows there’s only one person who can calm her down when she gets like this and it’s Jessie. Y/N would do anything Jessie says, even if it cost her personal pride and street cred. She doesn’t care what anyone thinks of her, especially the idiots on the other team. All that matters is what Jessie thinks of her, that Jessie knows Y/N would do anything for her.

Jessie scores the free kick and Y/N is the first one to her, lifting her up in the air as their teammates swarm them. As they jog back to half, Y/N makes eye contact with the defender. She smirks.

“It’ll be a long bus ride home to think about the loss, huh?”

Y/N shrugs when Jessie gives her a look. She’ll do anything for Jessie, but she can’t change who she is.

[authorred]

Frostbitten | Li Shen/Zayne x reader | Love and Deepspace

[Masterlist]

➺ Preface: Taking a trip with Zayne up to the snowy mountains was something you were looking forward to. Spending time with him and taking a break from your busy schedules are what you both need. But halfway through your trip, the aether core in your heart acts up, and your weakened heart begins to give.

➺ I was inspired by the one scene in Zayne's branched route trailer where he runs up to MC and carries her when she collapses TEEHEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE IT'S SO HOT SEEING MEN WORRY LIKE THAT HOOOYYY MMMMYYYYY GAAAWWWOOUUURRRDDDDDD

Warning(s): As angsty as I can make it. You almost die, good luck

As you step off of the train and onto the slightly snowy platform, you stretch your limbs and take in a deep breath. “Ah, finally,” you sigh in relief. “It’s no fun being cramped in a booth seat for three hours with nothing to do.”

Zayne comes up behind you wordlessly, carrying the few bags you brought with you on the trip. “Impatient as always,” he says. “Like a child.”

“I should’ve brought my laptop but I decided not to in the moment,” you sigh again. “I should’ve brought it for the actual travel time. Now I feel restless.”

“There’s plenty of things to do while we’re here,” Zayne assures. “It’s a small village, but I’m confident that you’ll find something that piques your interest. It’s rather easy to do.”

You roll your eyes and grab a bag from Zayne’s arm to help him. “Yeah, yeah, okay. I get it. I have the attention span of a goldfish.”

“Not quite a goldfish. Perhaps a small dog or a bird.”

You playfully shove him and his body follows through, stumbling a step or two away. You know he could’ve resisted a bit more, easily, but where’s the fun in that? “Shut up and let’s go already. We got a cabin waiting for us.” With that, you begin to stalk off in the direction of the station exit. Zayne doesn’t say anything and trails behind you like a shadow.

~

The cabin is much nicer than you originally thought. A cozy lounge, a small kitchen and dining area, and a loft upstairs with only one bed ;). There’s a nice fireplace in front of the small sofa with firewood already sat inside of it. It smells slightly of the outside trees, wood, and some hints of smoke.

“Oh, this is nice,” you say, placing your bags on the floor in the foyer. “Cozy and warm. I wonder if the kitchen is filled.”

“Just like you to be thinking of food.”

“It’s getting close to lunch—can you blame me?” You throw him a look over your shoulder before bouncing into the small, but homey kitchen. After inspecting all the cabinets and the small refrigerator you can see some left over nonperishables, bottles of water, pots and pans, and other miscellaneous items. “Mm, seems we’ll have to go into town if we want to actually eat food,” you say. “I’m glad it’s not that far from here.”

Zayne joins you in the kitchen and glances around. “It certainly is quaint,” he says. “Not bad.”

~

After an hour you and Zayne manage to make a small lunch just enough to tide you over. Afterwards you were planning to walk to the town store to buy more groceries for a proper dinner.

Halfway through your small lunch, you pause your eating. You take a moment, shifting and adjusting your body, rolling your shoulders out. You feel an uncomfortable feeling in your chest—as if the muscles are contracting. It’s a small point of discomfort but one you can’t ignore.

Zayne eyes you curiously, giving you a moment to assess whatever it is that’s wrong. After a few seconds of slight discomfort on your face he asks, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you reply. “Just a weird feeling is all. Maybe I haven’t stretched enough. It feels like a cramp.”

“Where?”

“My chest.” You subconsciously rub where there’s pain, your fingers gently massaging into the skin above your heart. Immediately, Zayne’s face drops in concern.

“Do you have pain in your jaw or left arm? Do you feel tired? Nauseous?”

“What?” You blink at him. “No. It feels like a cramp. I probably didn’t stretch enough after my shift yesterday.”

Zayne doesn’t relax, though he takes your word for it. “I see,” he replies quietly. “Stretching after strenuous exercise is important in keeping muscles from straining or tearing. And to reduce soreness. Please make sure to do it whenever you can.”

You nod, the pain fading, but never disappearing. “I know. I will. After this I’ll do a few stretches and see if it helps.”

~

Despite your earlier complaint of having chest pain, you still insisted on taking a walk to the town store. Zayne was hesitant, preferring to do it himself or to make sure you’re okay. But your insistence won out, and now you two are traipsing down a beautiful snowy trail to the town.

“It’s so beautiful here,” you say. “Cold, but beautiful. Snowy mountains and terrain are always so picturesque.”

Zayne hums in agreement and looks around at the surrounding area before turning his head to look at you, who’s admiring the distant mountains. His gaze is uncharacteristically soft. “Some things truly are beautiful no matter what.”

You let out a chuckle and nod, still unaware of his eyes on you. “Yeah, it is.”

Halfway through your walk, you start to slow. You pause, taking a moment to breathe. It’s hard to breathe. Like you can’t catch your breath. Every time you attempt to take a deep inhale it’s like your body is stopping you. Dread wells up inside of you but youl try to calm yourself down. The pain in your chest that never fully stopped blooms again, and your face scrunches up in slight discomfort. You take a step back, attemping to collect yourself from the sudden slap of lightheadedness that just hit you.

Zayne stops a few feet away from you and turns, his face scrunching up in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Zayne, I don’t feel good. . .” You start to stumble, and Zayne immediately strides over to you. You reach your hand out to which he grasps tightly. He cradles your cheek in his other hand and looks down at you. His eyes flit over your face, taking in your expression and current physical condition. Your complexion is completely off, and you’re on the verge of losing consciousness. Your vision is blurry and you can make out his face through the lightheaded haze. Your chest hurts a lot.

Without a word, Zayne picks you up bridal style and begins to march back to the cabin. His brows are furrowed in determination and worry, lips pressed in a thin line. He’s not dumb. He knows what it is—it’s your heart. Most likely cardiac arrest from all the issues you have regarding it. He needs to get you medical attention—immediately. If he doesn’t, then—

Zayne shakes his head, clearing it of any unnecessary thought. His focus is making sure you’re okay. His steps are driven forward with the single thought of keeping you alive; heavy and steady. The nearest hospital to the cabin is close to 40 minutes away. He prays to whatever god there is to keep you from death in that time.

“Zayne,” you rasp out, your vision beginning to grow bright and contrasting. “My heart hurts.”

“I know,” Zayne replies softly, walking up the wooden porch of the cabin. “Hang on. Everything will be okay.”

You don’t realize you fall unconscious until the sense of impending doom vanishes.

~

Everything that could go wrong did go wrong. The aether core in your heart destabilized and that caused your heart to give. Fluctuations of your evol forced your body to become unstable, and therefore unpredictable. Zayne managed to contact help but by the time it arrived your body was under so much stress from your heart growing weak, that it became borderline dangerous to perform any intervention on you.

Zayne is but a cardiologist. As brilliant as he is, this is not something within his realm. He knows about Protocore Syndrome and how it can affect the body and the cardiovascular system, but never before has it evolved in turning you into an unstable core yourself.

They had no choice but to intubate and isolate you. Specialists who had an idea of what’s going on said you very well could be a ticking time bomb (you can imagine how that went over with Zayne). Your body pulses and glows, following the veins in your flesh and circling around your heart like koi fish. It would be beautiful, if not for the fact you could possibly explode in a flux of evol so strong you could level the area.

Zayne watches from the observation mezzanine, his brows tightly knit together. He can feel his ice begin to spread across his neck and shoulders, the feeling a burning cold that forces him to look away from you. Taking a few deep breaths, he forces the ice to recede. It hurts. It always does. But he can’t help it. He can’t stop.

His eyes slowly slide back over to you. He knew he should’ve pushed you to take care of yourself more—or done it himself. Why didn’t he do it? Why do you never listen? He knew your heart wasn’t strong to begin with and yet you became a Hunter, go on dangerous missions, ignore instructions. . . something has to be wrong. There has to be a disconnect.

Is it him? Is he too cold? Too detached? If you die—

If you die. . . what then?

Zayne stands there for a moment before turning his head and walking from the observation window. He has a meeting to attend to; one that will decide on how to proceed with this issue. On how to care for you.

His Hunter will not die. Not under his care. Not while he’s alive.

[yeonbinwyd]

a place to sit

pairing: subfem!reader x softdom! Beomgyu

synopsis: you’re looking for a new place to live and your brothers friend had a spare room at his place. he’s always had a crush on you but now he gets to live with you. What more can he dream of?

genre (w/tags): smut, (minors dni), kinky sex, body exploration, masturbation, protected sex, explicit language

Word count: 1354

“Thanks again for letting her stay” your brother thanks Beomgyu as helps you with the last of your boxes.

“No problem bro. I got you.” He dabs up your brother with a back pat. You’re already inside unpacking your things. You were thankful you had a place to stay for the upcoming semester but it had to be with him? The two of you barely get along. Beomgyu always has a witty comment or two. Maybe even a joke here and there. It drove you nuts so for him to let you stay with him was a bit of a shocker. Honestly who are you to turn down free housing?

Beomgyu walks up to your door, leaning against the frame. He crosses his arm and shakes his head.

“It looks like you’re stuck with me” he chuckles.

“Not a chance. I’ll find another spot soon it’s just temporary” you bite back. He purses his lips.

“You really think you’ll find a place? The semester starts in a week.” He rubs in. You stay silent. “That’s what I thought.” He chimes as he steps closer to you, looking down at you while shaking his head with a smirk. You instinctively shove him forwards. He keeps his snicking smile, while leaving your room. Whoa he looked really good looking at you like that. You couldn’t help but feel a little bit attracted to him Beomgyu was a cute guy and he knew that. The last thing you needed was to let him know you thought so too.

After you finish unpacking, you change into something more comfortable, and head into the kitchen. He was in the living room, just playing his game. You join him, taking a seat. He glances at you with the corner of his eye. Beomgyu was a bit distracted by what you were wearing. It was just a short pj set. Your legs exposed to the point where you could see your panties. Your shirt was a bit seen thru too, with your nipples poking through. He swallows hard and turns his attention to his game. Suddenly he smells the candle you lit. It fills the room evoking a pleasant feeling throughout his body. It automatically makes him think of you. How sweet you must taste. He can feel himself getting hard at the thought of getting a glimpse of your cunt. He tried one last time to divert his attention to his game but he sees movement. Beomgyu looks over to see you applying a moisturizing lip mask, making your lips soft and kissable. He’s at his limit. He stands up quickly to avoid you seeing anything, then dashes out of sight. You shrug and turn off his game.

“This might be more difficult than I thought.”

Beomgyu takes a glance down at his pants to see a raging hard on. He made a promise to your brother to look out for you but he’s as much trouble as the guys that go after you.

“Maybe I can rub one out really fast” he thinks to himself. He shuts his door and without thinking starts to jerk off his hard on. He squeezes around the tip nice and snug. Beomgyu lets out a low groan in satisfaction. He rapidly jerks himself off to the thought of you. Just being able to touch you, hearing you beg for more, he was going insane. He came quickly and quietly as he heard your footsteps coming closer.

“Hey you ok?” you ask outside the door. He had been gone for a minute, so your curiosity got the best of you. You heard everything on the other side of the door. He may have tried to be quiet but it didn’t work with those thin walls.

“Yeah I’m fine.” He manages to reply. Beomgyu gets himself together then opens the door to find you standing behind it. The two of you lock eyes, Beomgyu swallows hard again.

“You know if you were into me, you should have just said so” you tell him with great pride as you turn from him. Hearing that he sighs in relief then gives you a hug from behind.

“You can’t tell your brother” he warns.

“What if I want you too?” You confess. He furrows his brow in confusion at first then he looks at you with the same smirk as before.

“You wore this on purpose?” Beomgyu calmly asks. You shrug your shoulders neither agreeing or disagreeing. He doesn’t waste any time and attacks your neck. Still behind you, he cups your chest, fondling your nipples. You gasped, caught off guard by his sudden movements. You get adjusted at the glorious feeling and rest your hand on the back of his neck to give him more access. He accepts, placing kisses down your neck to your breasts cupping them in the process. Now in front, he travels down even further to take a peek at what he’s been dreaming of.

“Can you do me a favor? He asks. You nod in agreement. “Can you sit on my face?” He asked with confidence. He wants to see you in full view without any breaks. You agree and without wasting any more time, he pulls you to his bed. Beomgyu lies down flat, waiting for you to take a seat. You pull off what you were wearing, then position yourself over his face. You gently lower yourself but he locks his arms around your thighs, forcing you to come down aggressively. He immediately moans inside you, giving you vibrations throughout your body. His tongue starts by making circles around your clit. His grip was strong, so strong there wasn’t much space to break free. You already feel the build up. As he keeps going, his tongue now is darting inside your pussy while cupping your ass checks. Beomgyu is licking up and down your walls while burying his face in you. He’s drunk off of you and can’t get enough. He lifts you up for a moment for air and he gets back in there. You spot a condom on his side table and reach for it. Beomgyu catches on and helps you lean to over the grab it, still holding on you tight. You grab it, tearing it open. You can see he’s fully erect and ready for the plunge. You help him with his sweats, releasing him and position the condom on his member. He growls at just your slight touch and starts to feel the condom in place. Beomgyu lets you go and helps you move forward to go on top. This time you were in control, you slide down slowly, taking him in. He covers his mouth as an unbearable whine was released from his lips. He had finally felt all of you. It was better than he had imagined. You thrusted forward and back for him, making him see stars. He was overwhelmed but the pleasure he was feeling was phenomenal. Beomgyu got it together, wanting to make you feel good too, he pulled you back to rest on him and began stroking up. You started to whine in his ear. It was giving his power. He speed started to pick up.

“Please Beomgyu” you begged. Hearing you cry his name like his dreams made him want to finish right there. He pulls out and helps you forward so he can fuck you from behind. He grabs a fist full of hair while reentering. Your back arches. At this point, you both don’t care at the amount of noise you were making. The sounds of sex filled the room and you both loved it.

“Say my name again baby” he demands.

“Beomgyu fuck me please” you manage to obey.

“Oh god I’m so close.” He moans.

“Me too Don’t stop” you demand in return. The slaps pick up, deeper and deeper. He pulls your hair back, forcing you to sit up. You both finishing. Beomgyu lets you go while pulling out. You grip your neck, shocked at how wild he was.

“I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you?” He asked concerns

“No I loved it.”

[eddis-not-eeddis]

How To Stop Killing Conversations

Talking is hard. People are confusing. Making friends is difficult, and interacting with coworkers is tortuous.

You want to make friends, you want to reach out, but it's hard and every time you start a conversation it dies, or limps along until both you and the person you're talking to are looking for excuses to kill it and put it out of it's misery so you can both escape the increasingly awkward situation.

As an introvert who has suffered a lot of social anxiety in my time, let me share a few tricks I've learned over the years going through hundreds and thousands of excruciatingly painful conversations until I found something that works. I've kind of distilled the process.

ALWAYS ASK A QUESTION!!!

The first thing is to always leave your partner an opening. You need to let each other talk for a conversation to get off the ground, but it's more than that, really. You need to actively encourage each other to talk. The best way to do that is to ask questions.

Here are two examples of an introduction: Example A

You: Hello.

Them: Hello.

You: Nice to meet you.

Them: Nice to meet you too.

Example B

Y: Hello, nice to meet you, how are you? T: I’m doing well, yourself?

Y: I've been really well. How are you liking the weather?

T: I'm so happy the weather's finally getting cooler, I'm looking forward to pumpkin spice season. Do you like lattes?

Do you see how in Example A the conversation wasn’t going anywhere? It just kinda died, because there weren’t any openings for new topics, whereas in Example B, there were openings to keep the conversation going.

But what do you do if your conversation partner is as socially inept as you were two minutes ago and doesn't play along? All is not lost.

Example C

Y: Hello, so nice to meet you, how have you been doing?

T: I'm doing well.

Y: That's great, are you enjoying the nice weather, then?

T: Yeah. I'm glad it's finally fall, I'm looking forward to pumpkin spice lattes.

Y: I love pumpkin spice lattes! Pumpkin spice anything, really. I recently got the best pumpkin spice candle at the shop down the road, have you been there?

Even if they don't leave you an opening, you can usually make one. It may be difficult, especially when they don't give you much to work with. This is where having a go-to script is a life-saver--me, I always default to talking about the weather, so when in doubt, you can do that.* The important thing right now is to keep fostering the conversation, so once you bring up the weather, segue into a question. When they answer the question, make a brief comment or observation from your own experience and build off of that comment or observation to ask another question.

"But I don't want to make it about me. Doing that's bad, right?"

This is why that questions are important. If you haven't been asked a question, you kinda have to make it about you, you don't have a choice. But to keep from being an attention hog, follow up your shared experience or anecdote with another question.

Example D

T: I love pumpkin spice lattes

Y: Me too. I had the best pumpkin spice latte the other day at the cafe down the road, have you ever been there?

Now you've circled the conversation back around to them again, and you aren't taking the limelight. Sharing an experience is so important, you're trying to show that you understand, that you sympathize, that you relate.**

This really is the most important element of being a good conversationalist. You have to keep asking questions.

The one other thing I will touch on is introductions. DO NOT get into turn based combat.

Example E

Y: Hello

T: Hello

Y: Nice to meet you

T: Nice to meet you too.

Y: How are you doing?

T: I'm fine. You?

Y: Me too.

This will kill any possibility of continuing a conversation. Instead, get it all out of the way all at once, if at all possible.

Example F

Y: Hi, it's nice to meet you, how are you doing?

This is good, but this is better

Example G

Y: Hi, nice to meet you, how are you liking the weather?

Don't ask how they are doing, or if you do, before they can answer, follow it up with your placeholder (weather etc.) so they have to say some thing like

Example H

T: I'm fine, and I'm really liking the weather.

or

T: Not so great, the weather sucks.

Either of those options are much easier to work with than your basic "I'm fine."

Usually, if you can get past the introduction, you can get a conversation going. And then, even if you don't end up hitting it off with the person you're talking with, you at least don't leave the conversation feeling like you've died a thousand tiny deaths.

In fact, if you get past that introduction, you may have just made yourself a friend.

Remember folks, basically everyone around you is more afraid of you than you are of them, and in this benighted age no one has been taught conversation skills, so we are all pretty much in the same boat. (Unless you were born an extrovert, in which case we are all deeply envious and would probably kill you if we didn't need you in our sad and lonely lives so much.)

Have grace for one another, and for yourselves because talking with people is difficult.

Go forth, and stop killing conversations.

*If you are one of those awful people who likes to brag about how you hate small talk and only want to talk about important and meaningful things, I have one question: Do you ever have a conversation that lasts long enough to become meaningful? I thought not. Small talk is an important skill. Develop it.

**This is how you deal with sad or difficult situations too. When you want to show you sympathize with someone going through a hard time.

Example:

Y: How are you doing?

T: Not very well. My dog died last week.

Y: Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that. My own dog died last year and I still miss her a lot. How are you handling it?

Now you've circled the conversation back around to them again. You aren't making it about you.

If y'all want, next time I can share how to extricate yourself from a conversation.

[talesfromawannabejournalist]

Demon in Disguise

Here it is @kittenfangirl20, hope you enjoy part 1

Adam sighed as he waited for Lilith to make her appearance in the embassy. Adam was summoned by a letter from the Queen herself requesting an audience with the first man himself. Though Sera, the woman he looked at as a mother as she looked at him as her son, warned him against this meeting. However, Adam's will be strong, and he wishes to know what the snake wants. It didn't help that tensions were rising what with the sinners starting to rise. Adam's knee slightly bounced from underneath the table as he crossed his arms over his chest. Though he'd never admit it to anyone other than himself it always sent a shiver down his side whenever it was only just the two of them. Suddenly the doors opened and in walked Lilith all with the grace of a queen, and the slithering motions of a serpent. Her amethyst pierced Adam's soul as they locked onto him.

Lilith: Ah Adam just the man, or first man, I've been meaning to see, how are you? Doing good? Heaven sure does seem to be treating you good.

Lilith stated while her gaze turned directly on Adam's chubby belly. Adam scowled already wanting this meeting to end.

Adam: Cut the crap and just say what you want Lilith

Lilith: Very well, I've come here for a proposal. I understand that Heaven is getting quite antsy as of late due to my people beginning to rise up. I also understand that they are looking for solutions, well I have one that will solve everything.

Adam: And that is?

Lilith: I remove myself from my title as queen, Hell's military, leave Hell, and be given a spot in Heaven.

Adam was silent for a moment until he laughed out loud even banging his fist against the table.

Adam: Ok, and what makes you think that anyone in their right mind would allow you to stay? Not to mention me ever giving you free range of upstairs.

Lilith: You are still close with Sera, correct? Then she can help forward this deal. I also have something that you want more than anything

Adam: And what might that be?

Lilith: Lucifer's child

Adam: ...what?

Lilith: I'm sure that your little...birth defect is still present even as an angel, yes?

Adam glared at her wording but slowly nodded. Not long after Adam's creation his creator, God helped shift his body so that he then had both parts of a man and a woman. Though he didn't know why he did it, he didn't hate his body in any way, despite Lilith doing her hardest to make him back in the garden.

Lilith: I'll collect Lucifer's seed and have it implanted in your womb then you'll finally have the precious baby that you always wanted with your dear guardian angel.

Adam: ...Lucifer is alright with all of, this? You leaving him and me being impregnated with his sperm?

Lilith: But of course, after all, he does want what's best for our subjects, not to mention that if there is less interaction in Heaven ten the less, he'll have to see you. Plus, with you not only in Heaven but also supported by

Adam didn't know what to say, on the one hand, he'd finally get his dream of being a mother. He loved all his children when they were on Earth and loved being their father even when...the incident occurred and afterward. However, ever since Eden, he wanted to be with Lucifer, his Luci, his sweet angel, and have a family with him. On the other hand, it hurt him to his core that this was the only way. But...the pros outweighed the cons and on the plus side not only would he get his dream, but he'd also finally be putting a stop to any uprising from the denizens of Hell since the fire was only filled with Lilith there leading the charge.

It seemed Lilith could tell what his decision was and smirked.

Adam: alright Lilith, I accept your deal.

[luvwich]

✒️ writer interview tag

tagged by @dustdeepsea — tysm, this was great fun! read their answers here and mine, if you like, beneath the cut ✨

When did you start writing?

early 2023 was my first foray into writing actual fiction. prior to that i'd done an embarrassing amount of roleplaying many years ago, which i shall speak on no further, but it did form the basis for a lot of my writing now!

once upon a time, i seriously entertained the idea of an MFA in screenwriting, but went on to pursue something even stupider for grad school 👍

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

honestly everything i enjoy reading gets smuggled into my writing in some form or another!

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

there are like 26 different writers where i wish to take bits and pieces of their style, send it all into a meat grinder, and press the gunk into sausage casings to be dipped in batter and deep fried. ideally i want my writing to hit like wagyu beef that's been corrupted into a county fair corn dog. but no i'm not sure i've ever been compared to another writer! that would fuck my shit up truly (in a good way)

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

typically curled up on my couch, because the ergonomic status of my home office setup is terrible — potentially lethal. sometimes i stay late at my not-home office, hidden away in a dark conference room, but that's usually only if i'm on a self-imposed deadline (i.e. i've started posting a WIP)

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

the spark that gets me to write is usually some kind of Dynamic that i want to explore so i do a lot of noodling upon situations and then figuring out how to get there. and by situations i mean smut

also, writing bits of dialogue, even if i don't know the context yet. it gets a character's voice and mannerisms in my head, and gives me a little grain to start building on

sadly, going on a hike and/or reading a really good book are both very effective and by far the most time consuming

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

longing, isolation, identity, the difference between the person you'd like to be and the person you are, strained/dysfunctional family relationships, wrong person right time, hope, blowjobs, self-deception, california, fucking your way through it, guilt, social class, mommy issues, mono no aware, oral fingering, etc; they don't surprise me anymore but the first time i finished a long fic and took a step back i was like "ohh haha Damn"

What is your reason for writing?

i am horny, sad n silly

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

all forms of feedback are so touching! i think much of what i write is pretty niche, so simply knowing someone has read my stuff gets me pumped. a big essay of a comment is like receiving a love letter, and comments that are just an emoji are like someone's tucked a little note in my lunchbox, and both are incredibly nourishing to me. as far as motivation, though, anything that implies someone is looking forward to reading more is the surest way to light a fire under my people-pleasing ass

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

affable wretch, trickster, wine aunt

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

i'm not sure any one thing stands out: i believe i'm pretty good in a few areas (dialogue, sensory detail, characterization) and notably lacking in others (action, "plot," pacing, not getting high on my own supply)… okay i'll stop being an asshole though and say my strength is in "delivering on a mood," if that is a thing

How do you feel about your own writing?

generally good. for one, i'm proud of myself for ever finishing and posting anything, because following through on shit isn't something i'm renown for. i tend to hate everything i write after i've gotten some distance from it, but i think that's normal? right? i'm new at it and it's all for fun so i try to be gracious with myself, with mixed success, because beneath my goofy exterior i do take everything too seriously

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

mostly for myself; i do abstractly ask "would someone who isn't me enjoy this?" and never quite know the answer. like most humans i crave external validation and connection, but like a cactus i can survive on just a lil rainfall 🌵

tagging w/no pressure (but with my best barbara walters impression) @corpocyborg @ghostoffuturespast @merge-conflict @streetkid-named-desire @writing-for-soup

[luvyblossom]

Love Me (not) Part 6

Hello Lovelies,

Part 6 is a bit shorter but I hope you enjoy ^o^

I've also been looking for more writing inspo. So pretty pretty please sent me some skz requests. Let me know what you think about part 6.

xx- Luvy

Ps comment on the masterlist if you want to be included in the taglist

Genre: Friends to lovers, college au, jealousy, SMUT, some mutual pining, fighting/angst

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Hyunjin x y/n, Felix x y/n (AFAB)

Warnings: This work contains content that is 18+. Minors DNI. Perv Hyunjin, intercourse, oral, masturbation, somnophilia and mild noncon, dom and sub (reader), Very minor self-depreciation/ insecurities

Let me know if I missed anything

Felix stepped forward, blinded by rage. Not only was this guy all over you all the fucking time. He was fucking coming out of your room. Did he stay the night? Did something happen between the two of you? All these questions raced through his mind as he punched Hyunjin square in the jaw.

He heard you shout his name in shock but rather than turning around he raised his fist again. He had to stop himself before he swung because you appeared before him, standing between him and Hyunjin.

"What the hell Felix?" You raised your voice, staring down your boyfriend. He had attacked Hyunjin out of the blue and for no reason. You felt Hyunjin's hand on your waist, trying to move you aside so he could return the favour to Felix.

Felix let out a dry chuckle as he watched Hyunjin's arm wrap around you. He looked at you, ignoring the man standing behind you, "I asked you if there was something going on between you two. I trusted you and you fucking cheat on me?" His voice got louder.

"What-"

He didn't let you finish and kept shouting "Why the fuck would you even go out with me. You like stringing me along?"

Hyunjin pushed you aside, "Watch how you speak to her," he warned.

"Fuck. You" Felix landed another punch on Hyunjin's face. Hyunjin reeled back, recovering from the blow and getting ready to hit back but you once again shoved between them. This time you faced Hyunjin, wiping a bit of blood that dripped from his torn lip.

He looked at you a smirk forming as you worriedly tended to him. He met your boyfriend's gaze, giving him the look 'she chose me.' Felix scoffed and before you could utter another word you heard the door slam behind you.

You turned away from Hyunjin, taking a few steps forward as if to chase after him but then you stopped. You walked into the kitchen, grabbing a paper towel, wetting it with warm water and going up to Hyunjin who stood still, observing your every move.

He flinched as you dabbed at his lip.

"Hold this, apply pressure," you sounded robotic. Your movements were slow and measured. You walked back behind the kitchen island, opening the freezer and making an ice pack. You walked back to Hyunjin, wrapping the ice pack in a tea towel and holding it up against his jaw. You took the blood soaked tissue from him and moved his hand so he would hold the ice pack. The bleeding had stopped. You took some antiseptic cream from the side table drawer and applied a bit over the cut. Then you looked at Hyunjin, meeting his gaze blankly before moving to sit on the couch.

You felt the couch dip as Hyunjin sat beside you. "He's insane." When he didn't get a response from you he turned and poked your cheek. Usually that made you smile but not this time.

"What are you thinking?" Hyunjin asked moving closer to you.

"I don't know. Nothing I guess." it was the truth, there was so much for you to process that your mind chose to stay blank. You were still in shock over the situation, not sure how to feel about anything or anyone.

Hyunjin could see the stoic look on your face. His heart sinking as he realized this wasn't something you'd brush off. It mattered to you. He mattered to you. He placed his hand over yours, trying to melt you the way he usually did. To his dismay, you moved your hand away.

You turned and studied his face. His lip was swollen and his cheek had a bruise forming. "I think I need to be alone for a bit."

Hyunjin's face fell. He just nodded, got up getting his stuff together. Before he left he turned to say, "Please call me."

You sat, processing the morning, a reality show playing in the background in an attempt to drown out your thoughts. It wasn't working. You couldn't fathom what Felix had done. And what exactly did he think was happening? Did he think you fucked Hyunjin?

Your pulse raced as fast as your thoughts. You weren't sure what you wanted. Part of you was somewhat relieved, perhaps this would be the end of you and Felix and you wouldn't have to think about that 4 letter word that gave you anxiety when he said it. But the other part of you ached. You felt hollow and guilty. It scared you to think of not having Felix, you wanted him near. You wanted his soft kisses and that bright smile.

You picked up your phone hitting his contact. Straight to voicemail. You waited a gruelling 15 minutes, literally watching a timer tick down before trying to call him again. Voicemail again.

You grab your keys, rushing out your door with a mission. Your legs carried you with purpose and then, when you reached your destination you delivered a hard knock to the door. You heard shuffling and you were greeted by Minho. Before he could give you a sarcastic hello you asked, "Where's Felix."

"I don't know. You're his girlfriend shouldn't you know?"

You ignored his remark, "I'm waiting for him." Minho moved aside to let you in. You settled on their couch, a cat quickly finding you and settling onto your lap. "What are we watching?"

Minho shuffled over begrudgingly, silently scrolling through the netflix catalog.

"You really aren't friendly," you stated as Minho sat silently next to you. The comment made him smile, despite him trying to hold it back.

You laughed watching his reaction. "I want to watch Twilight," you announced.

Minho rolled his eyes, "No."

"Why not?"

"Because it's stupid," Minho replied sounding childish.

"Have you seen it before?"

"No."

"Well then you can't possibly know if it's stupid or not." You quickly grabbed the remote from him, selecting the movie.

Minho groaned but pretty soon he was into the movie. You each sat with a cat on your lap, yapping away about the absurdity of the movie and Jacob's horrible wig. You had started New Moon when you finally heard the front door open.

"I'm home," Felix shouted as he turned into the living room. He stopped when he saw you, a frown decorating his face. "What are you doing here?"

"I-" you had to gulp your feelings down. Felix had never looked at you like this. His looks were usually soft, admiring and made you feel fuzzy. This look made you feel sick. You took a deep breath collecting your words, "we need to talk."

"What is there to talk about? I think I saw all that I needed." Felix doesn't let you say anything else. He rushed to his room door slamming behind him. You were now alone in their living room, Minho had slipped away unnoticed.

You got up and knocked on Felix's bedroom door. When he didn't open the door you just knocked harder until you heard shuffling. He opened his door just enough to poke his head out. You were a bit angry still but you had to admit he looked cute. You wanted to kiss him so you leaned forward planting a soft kiss right on the tip of his nose. Felix's eyes blew up in surprise and the angry look he was giving you melted away. He let out a sigh, opened the door and stepped aside gesturing you in. You sat down on the corner of his bed.

"Say what you want to say," Felix said, avoiding your eyes.

"I don't know what happened this morning. What is wrong?" Your voice remained steady as you watched him carefully.

Anger spread across Felix's features once again, "Are you fucking kidding me? Here's what happened. I saw a man that is extremely possessive of you and known for sleeping with anything that moves come out of your bedroom in the morning. In the morning when he was supposed to have been over the night before. So that means he stayed the night. I'm not stupid Y/n."

You finally understood what his reaction was about. It was understandable although you thought that he could have talked rather than punching Hyunjin. "It's not like that Felix. Him and I have a completely platonic relationship. Nothing happened."

"I doubt that," Felix said bitterly.

Now you were angry, "do you not trust me?"

"I don't trust him," Felix said.

"He has nothing to do with this. He's my friend, and has been for far before I met you. I would never cheat on you, or anyone and there is nothing between us I don't know why you're so insistent on that. You have never once before this communicated that you have an issue with Hyunjin and my relationship and then you come in and fucking attack him for no reason."

"You're worried about him?" Felix was shouting.

"Of course I'm worried about him. I fucking love him." You stopped, realizing what had slipped past your lips.

Felix just looked at you. Hurt highlighted in his eyes as he heard you speak the words that he had so desperately wanted to hear, except it wasn't for him.

"I mean as a friend Felix. Not like that." You were pretty sure that was the truth. You loved Hyunjin as a friend. You always had and you weren't allowed anything else.

"I think you should go."

You weren't sure what else you could do. You left him alone.

A few moments later Felix heard another insistent knock on his door. "I don't know what else you could possibly have to say to me-" he realized it was his roommate.

"You seem disappointed," Minho observed.

"No I'm not. I just thought that maybe she had come back." He was disappointed. He wanted her to be here, even though he really didn't want to see her again. She always made him have such complicated feelings.

"What happened?" It was rare that Minho pried like this, so Felix was a bit surprised at his line of questioning.

"Nothing. I just don't think it'll work out between us."

"Really? Hmm, I liked her for you."

Felix let out a frustrated sigh, plopping down in his gaming chair, "I like her too."

"Is it because of her 'bestie' " Minho emphasized the word with air quotes.

Felix just nodded before going on, "she just told me she loves him before leaving. I think it's kinda hard for a relationship to recover from that."

Minho frowned, "I heard the rest of what she said. She said he was just a friend. And I don't usually vouch for people but she's good and the cats really like her."

"He is so obviously not a friend. Even if she doesn't know it yet, he's definitely trying to keep her for himself."

"So you're going to let him win?"

----

"Hey Y/n" Chan welcomed you at the door.

"Is he home?" you didn't have to say his name, Chan always knew who you came for.

"In his room."

"You know there's other people that live here," Seungmin shouted from the living room.

You flashed him a smile before jogging up the stairs and knocking on Hyunjin's door. You heard a faint come in.

Hyunjin sat at his desk, painting something. He turned when he heard the door open. A warm smile spreading across his face. The smile quickly dropped when he saw your tear stained face.

He took you in his arms, pulling you close to him, pressing your face to his chest. His hand found it's way into your hair and he ran his fingers through it soothingly. You melted into his chest, letting the tears flow again.

He held you for a while, letting you cry for a bit before taking your face in his hands so you would look at him.

"You know it breaks my heart when you cry," he said wiping the tears from your face using his thumbs. "What happened?"

"Felix and I are over," you said it just above a whisper, tears falling freely.

Hyunjin felt relief, joy even that he wouldn't have to worry about Felix in your life anymore. The feeling lasted only a second as he heard how broken your voice sounded. He had never seen you this sad over a breakup before. He had never seen you even sweat a breakup before, you usually didn't give two shits when things ended with whatever loser you chose to give your time to. But now you were in front him, crying over a guy who didn't deserve you anyways. Hyunjin's heart sank to a deep pit in his stomach. He felt pangs of hurt, maybe because you were hurting.

He set his feelings aside. He truly couldn't stand to see you so miserable. You cuddled back into his chest, he felt comfortable and warm and you needed it as you processed that you had lost Felix.

Hyunjin led you to sit down on his bed, taking a seat next to you and taking you into his arms once again. Your tears had stopped, you felt soothed wrapped up in him.

"You were too good for him Y/n. He's not worth all your tears,"

"I wasn't. He loved me." It hurt to realize that his love would be gone. It had felt like a burden but now it felt like whatever chance you had at love had gone with him. He was wonderful, and he loved you the way that you were. You should have just loved him back. You hated yourself for not falling as fast as he had.

Hyunjin broke through your thoughts, "I love you."

You let out a sigh, "it's not the same Hyunjin." You looked up at him with a small smile to reassure him that you were okay. He hesitated, as if he wanted to say more, but he didn't, he let his heart sink deeper.

"But you didn't love him back."

"I think I could have. If I had more time," you feared that whatever chance you had at love had gone with Felix. He was perfect for you, the best fit and the most feelings you'd felt for a man after... You didn't finish the thought.

You took a deep breath in. Ready to move on and try to not focus on what could have been. You took Hyunjin's hand in yours, giving it a squeeze, "what were you painting?"

Hyunjin described the scene from a movie that he thought was beautiful. He spoke about the background and what made the scene perfect for him to paint. He talked about what techniques he could use to bring it to life. He talked about all the things that made him love it but he left out the part where he loved it because he saw how you smiled when you had watched that exact scene. And as he talked, he held you close, fingers laced with yours. Holding you close, worrying about how much of you he may have lost to Felix. You were hurt, more than he expected you to be. But you chose him in the end.

________

This is an original work. I do not permit the republishing of this work in any form including translations.

© LuvyBlossom

Taglist: @mimihwang248 @meeeds @lixiespick @fangirlnation @chartrucewhore @karmakalesposts @stayatinykatsy @cauliflower-baguette seungminindabuilding isagerada

[prettygirl-gabi]

Skin

---

‐‐‐

Rating:General Audiences

Warning: Fluff, angst, bitter ex, major friend group dynamic shift

Category:F/M

Fandom: Outerbanks (OBX), (Netflix TV series)

Relationships: JJ Maybank x f reader

Summary: Kie's slowly getting under your skin especially when you're JJ's new girlfriend

Based on recent experiences, and the song skin by Sabrina Carpenter has been stuck in my head for like 6 months on top of the recent experiences...

---

**"Maybe we could’ve been friends, if I met you in another life…"**

The thought crosses my mind as I stand in the middle of the living room, fiddling with my phone, and waiting for JJ to come back from the kitchen. The memory of Kiara's expression when she found out about us is still fresh, lingering like a bitter taste I can’t wash away. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, but I guess things never go as planned.

“You okay?” JJ's voice pulls me from my thoughts as he enters the room, a playful smile tugging at his lips. He’s balancing two mugs of coffee in his hands, making his way toward me like everything in the world is perfectly fine.

I nod, forcing a smile back. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

He hands me one of the mugs, his fingers brushing against mine. The contact is warm, grounding me in the moment. "About Kie?"

I glance away. He knows me too well.

“It’s hard not to think about her,” I admit, sitting down on the worn-out couch. “She was—no, she *is* my friend. I hate that it feels like I’m betraying her.”

JJ sighs and sits next to me, his arm resting casually behind my shoulders. “You didn’t do anything wrong. She’ll come around. It’s just gonna take time.”

**"I’m happy and you hate it, hate it, oh…"**

I wish I could believe him. It’s not that I don’t want to be with JJ—it’s that being with him comes with a whole mess of complications I didn’t see coming. Kie and JJ had always had this unspoken connection. At least, that’s what everyone thought, including me. And then I fell for him. Hard.

Now, it’s like every glance from Kiara is a reminder that I’ve taken something she didn’t realize she wanted until it was too late.

“I don’t think she’s ever going to be okay with it,” I confess quietly. “With us.”

JJ chuckles softly, shaking his head. “Well, that’s too bad. Because I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you.”

His words make my heart flutter, even though the doubt still lingers in the back of my mind. I know he means it—he’s serious about us, about this. But how do I move forward when the person I care about most next to JJ feels like I’m rubbing this relationship in her face?

**"You can try to get under my, under my, under my skin, while he’s on mine."**

I take a deep breath and lean into him, letting his warmth seep into me. I want to focus on him, on this moment, but the guilt weighs heavy on my chest.

“You think she’ll really get over it?” I ask softly, not really expecting an answer but needing to hear him say it anyway.

JJ turns his head slightly, his lips brushing against my temple. “Eventually. Or maybe not. But either way, I’m not giving this up.” His voice is firm, and I can feel the truth in it.

I close my eyes for a moment, trying to silence the doubt. There’s something undeniably special between us—something that wasn’t there with anyone else. And maybe that’s why it feels so complicated. Maybe that’s why Kiara reacted the way she did when she found out.

**"I wish you knew that even you can’t get under my skin, if I don’t let you in…"**

“It’s not just Kie,” I whisper, more to myself than to him. “It’s everything. The looks. The comments.”

JJ pulls back slightly, his blue eyes searching mine. “You mean from the others? John B? Pope?”

I nod. “They keep acting like this is something we should’ve told them about sooner. Like we should’ve asked for permission or something.”

JJ sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I know it’s complicated with the Pogues, but at the end of the day, they’re gonna support us. Maybe they’re just weirded out because they didn’t see it coming. But who cares? This is about *us*, not them.”

His words are reassuring, but the sting of Kiara’s reaction still sits heavy in my chest. When she found out, the hurt in her eyes was unmistakable. She hadn’t said much, but the silence spoke volumes. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so torn between two people in my life.

“You don’t think I’m a terrible friend, do you?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

JJ tilts his head, his expression softening as he looks at me. “No. You’re not a terrible friend. You just…fell in love. And sometimes, that happens in ways people don’t expect.”

**"And I’m not asking you to let it go, but you’ve been telling your side, so I’ll be telling mine."*

It’s true. Kiara hasn’t exactly been shy about expressing her feelings on the matter, even if it’s been in subtle ways—pointed comments, sideways glances, and the awkward tension that fills the room whenever the three of us are together. But I’ve kept my side of the story mostly to myself, too afraid to make things worse.

“You know she called me the other night?” I say, breaking the silence.

JJ raises an eyebrow. “What did she say?”

“She just…wanted to know why. Why *you*? Why now?”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, his jaw tensing slightly as he processes my words. “And what did you tell her?”

I shrug, feeling the weight of that conversation settle over me again. “I told her the truth. That it just…happened. That I didn’t plan on falling for you, but I did.”

JJ’s lips quirk into a small smile, though there’s a hint of sadness in it. “And how did she take that?”

I let out a soft laugh, though it’s more out of exasperation than amusement. “She didn’t really respond. Just said she needed time to figure things out.”

He leans back on the couch, pulling me closer into his side. “Then let her have her time. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

**"You can try to get under my, under my, under my skin… but he’s all mine."**

The thing is, I know he’s right. I know that no matter what happens with Kiara or anyone else, this—what we have—it’s real. And I can’t let their opinions, their judgment, get in the way of that. JJ is mine, and I am his. That’s all that should matter.

“I just don’t want to lose her,” I admit softly, resting my head against his shoulder. “Or anyone.”

“You won’t,” JJ murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “And even if things are rocky for a while, we’ll figure it out. Together.”

I close my eyes, letting the comfort of his words wash over me. Maybe it won’t always be easy. Maybe there will always be a part of Kiara that resents me for this. But I can’t let that hold me back from being happy.

**"You can’t get under my skin, if I don’t let you in."**

And I won’t let her. Not anymore.

I pull back slightly to look at JJ, his face soft in the dim light of the room. “I love you, you know.”

His eyes light up with that mischievous glint I’ve come to adore, and he leans in, his lips brushing mine. “I know. And I love you too.”

For the first time in a while, I feel like maybe, just maybe, everything will be okay.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

‐Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-Gabi✨️🎀

[saiintofdiirt]

Summary: Parrot and Wifies have a talk some time after the fallout of Parrot finding out Wifies is a clone. A follow up to Ken's POV in Part 1.

notes: this is once again not edited, this was the result of some quick writing last night and a wrap up today. it's more like practice for Parrot's voice which i think i did a shit job at but it's here and u can now judge me urself. enjoy. or dont idk. divider from here

word count: 2568. just slightly less than the previous installment.

11:49

Parrot has picked through his feathers so many times he thinks he’s developing a bald spot in his left wing. He's usually better at waiting, has patience for his plans to go through, but today there is no plan, just waiting. He stares at his comm, open in his hand as he rereads the chat over and over again.

[Wifies]: Would you be open to talking with me today?

[Parrotx2]: yes

[Parrotx2]: of course

[Parrotx2]: what’s up

[Wifies]: I was actually wondering if we could meet up.

[Parrotx2]: yeah wherever you want

[Wifies]: I’ll open up my world.

[Wifies]: How does noon sound?

[Parrotx2]: perfect

[Wifies]: I’ll send you the IP then.

[Parrotx2]: great!

Great! He sounds like a loser.

So Parrot is waiting for the clock to strike noon on his comm to go. Part of him wonders if he's going to spawn into a pit, or straight into lava, or in an escape room, something that would make Wifies feel better to watch him go through after the hell Parrot raised. Parrot would be fine with that. Honestly, he hopes Wifies is mad. He's only going to feel worse if he's met with Wifies’s carefully thought out words and blunt kindness.

11:54

He stops touching his wings. He's been trying to organize his thoughts so he doesn't say something incredibly stupid to Wifies again. There’s a script now.

I’m sorry for reacting so harshly, I was shocked and didn’t know how to process what I was hearing. I felt hurt because I thought you didn’t trust me with the truth, but now I see why you wanted to keep it to yourself. I should have never acted that way. You’re so important to me, and I should have thought about all the trust between us. I always trust you.

11:55

It’s simple, but it’s straightforward, and he wants to be as clear as possible. He also wants to be sincere, but sincerity is scary. His sincerity is blue, bruised, gushes forward like an open wound and stains the world in his blood.

11:56

But he can do sincerity. He can do it for Wifies. He could probably do a lot for Wifies, but Wifies never asks for anything. He didn’t even ask to be freed from the chunkban. He just waited. Trusted Parrot, and waited for Parrot, and was happy to see Parrot after everything. Wifies is always trusting and waiting and happy.

11:57

And Parrot ruined it for what? Catharsis for his fears? A moment to let that horrible feeling of being second, third, fourth in someone's life tear through everything he’s done? Is that even the reason why?

11:58

God. When Wifies starts asking questions, Parrot is going to crumble like a house of cards. It'll be Parrot's unjust luck to be forgiven.

[Wifies]: IP XXXXXXXXXX

Parrot jolts and almost drops his comm. He scrambles to copy the IP down and flick through his comm settings. He pastes it into the server IP box and hovers over the connect button.

12:00

He clicks connect.

Landing softly onto a carpet of podzol in a chilly spruce forest, Parrot lets out a plume of ashen breath. There are a few cabins in a semicircle in front of him, warm light spilling out of each window and from the branches of the towering spruce trees. The afternoon sun barely breaches the canopy, but it speckles the ground just enough to give the world a surreal atmosphere.

There's a campfire pit to one side surrounded by log benches, and there sits Wifies. He looks brilliant in the firelight, dark hair loose without his headband and violet eyes muted.

“Parrot,” Wifies calls out as he stands up. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Parrot says lamely, hesitating for a moment before making his way over to Wifies. The campfire warms him up, but the chill doesn't go away. “How are you?”

“It’s going to rain soon, so I’m feeling it in my joints,” Wifies says, lighthearted as he rubs one of his shoulders. “Sit with me.”

So Parrot does. He’s not in the business of denying Wifies much of anything. He sits on one end of the log bench, and Wifies sits two feet away, turned towards Parrot, and Parrot looks at him, and his mind just— it blanks. His script dissolves like salt in the sea.

“I wanted to start with saying that I am a clone of the original Wifies,” Wifies says, giving Parrot space to try and reboot his brain. “He was. . . making clones for the sake of content, and I was the most successful one. I never knew. And one day, Ken showed up to what I thought was my single player world, and. . . it’s a very long story, but he got me out of there and we, um, we killed the original. He. . . wasn’t going to let me just leave. And those are the main points of my story. I just wanted you to know the important bits before we talk further.”

“Clones for content,” Parrot echoes, eyebrows scrunching up. “Clones for content? He was— what?”

“Making clones to put them into escape rooms for quick video production.”

“The— what the fuck?”

Wifies smiles awkwardly, but doesn’t speak again. He keeps rubbing his shoulder over and over, self soothing maybe, or maybe it’s just that painful from the onset of the rain.

“I'm sorry for how I acted. I don’t care that you’re a clone,” Parrot says, flinching at his own sharpness. He looks away and into the crackling fire. “I care about you. The clone stuff is— is whatever. Or not whatever, I’ll care about it as much as you want me to care about it.”

“Parrot, don’t make me promises you know you can’t keep.”

Wifies’s voice is gentle. It is so, so gentle, with no hint of disappointment or scolding. Parrot’s stomach churns. He wishes again for Wifies’s anger, pointed and cold, instead of this. Anger is easy. This stings like salt in a wound.

“Why do you think I can’t keep to that?”

“Not knowing drives you crazy.”

“You not being there has driven me more crazy.”

“Until you forget, and it starts bothering you again.”

Parrot deserves it, but his heart is heavy and he feels like he’s been shot right through it. Wifies isn’t even being cruel, just honest; he’s right, eventually it will drive Parrot crazy to not be able to talk about the whole situation, to understand Wifies better by prying into his life.

“I don’t like talking about it. It was a bad time for me. I also don’t know everything about. . . myself. About what you’ll eventually ask.”

Parrot has to physically bite his tongue. Wifies doesn't know everything. What if he gets sick? Or badly hurt? What if he starts feeling like something is wrong, and there's nothing to be done for it, because nobody knows? What if—

“This is why I never want to tell anyone,” Wifies sighs out, curling in on himself in the corner of Parrot’s eyes. “If nothing else, just promise me you won't tell anyone?”

“Never,” Parrot says firmly. That's a promise he can keep. “I would never.”

“Thank you, Parrot.”

Their conversation tapers off. The sunlight is disappearing little by little, the promised rain clouds rolling in from far away, far above. Parrot’s feathers puff up a bit at a slight, churning breeze that cuts through the forest.

“I'm sorry, for what it's worth. For lying this whole time.”

“I see why you did. I just ended up proving why lying was the right choice. Nothing to be sorry about.”

“It's funny,” Wifies says in a voice that promises to be anything but funny. “When I'm scared, everything hurts again. I can never remember how they got here, but all the little pains come back again, like the reminder of fear should pull a memory or two up. But there's nothing. I don't remember how I hurt my shoulder this badly. I don't remember how it got fixed. All I remember is that it’s hurt forever. I don't remember a life without pain, and when this all came to light, my reality went from a life where pain existed to a life that was lived with pain.”

Rain begins to dribble through the leaves around them. The campfire hisses and sparks but doesn't extinguish, too large and hot to be daunted by such a pathetic display. The canopy is too dense for the rain to punch through in earnest.

“What are you scared of?” Parrot forces himself to ask. Please don't be afraid of me.

“Losing another part of my life to this. I can never seem to escape the factory. What a lousy escapist I've become, huh?”

Wifies pulls his feet up into the log, resting his chin on his knee and watching the fire. Parrot doesn't remember turning towards him, but he inches closer. The space between them is too large. His hand is too far from Wifies’s own.

“You don't have to lose anything,” Parrot says. “There's nothing to be lost. You can always come back to the server. Nobody there will ever know except for Ken.”

“No matter how this plays out, I lose you.”

“I'm right here. I'm right next to you, right now, what do you mean?”

Parrot feels pathetic, but he doesn't care. Wifies won't look at him, is talking about losing him like Parrot isn't about to crawl out of his skin just so Wifies won't leave him again. The rain thickens the air around them with the promise of more force, and Parrot stretches a wing over Wifies’s head without a single thought.

“You'll always think about the fact I'm a clone. I lost my status of human. I lost our relationship. It took so long for me to feel normal, and now it's all gone.”

“Wifies, look at me please.”

Wifies does. He does, because he still cares, and Parrot is going to be sick at the resigned look in Wifies’s eyes. Parrot is close enough now, so he reaches out and holds Wifies’s face in both hands. He can feel the way Wifies’s jaw works, the thrum of his slow heartbeat in his throat, the way his breathing is shallow and quick. His eyes are a little glassy, a little red, and Parrot adds another wretched tally to the list of times he's made Wifies cry.

“No matter what, you are human, okay? To me, and to Ken, and I'm sure to whoever you were talking to that day as well. Don't ever doubt that.”

Wifies’s expression softens and he just barely nods, which is a small relief for Parrot.

“All I ever think about when you're gone is when you're coming back,” Parrot says. His sincerity bleeds, red and blue smudged across each word. He’ll bleed for them, every drop if that’s what it takes. “And all I've been thinking about this whole time is how I'm going to make it up to you. How I really, really want to do whatever it takes for you to stay. I want you to stay. And not a single one of those thoughts had anything to do with whether you're a clone or not.”

Wifies breathes in. It shakes something horrible. Parrot will crawl his way back into being trusted until he has no more body to move with.

“All of those thoughts had to do with how you've always been with me. Funny, kind, snarky, quick, the only person in this world I've ever been able to close my eyes next to knowing that I've got everything I need right there. That the only way I'll ever be apart from you is by being torn. And none of that, none of it, has changed. I still think all that about you. All that's been added is that I'm an asshole who definitely doesn't deserve your loyalty, but I'm too greedy to let it go so easily.”

That makes Wifies giggle, the sound wet and cracking. Parrot presses the pads of his thumbs under Wifies's eyes. If he's going to make Wifies cry, the least he can do is clean it up too.

“The only thing I ever need you to do is believe in me,” Parrot says, pressing his lips to Wifies’s forehead. It's easier somehow to speak like this, wetness pooling against Parrot’s fingers. “Believe that I love you so much. Believe that I'm going to make this right between us. Believe that learning this has done nothing to change how I feel about you. And if you can't, please believe in me anyway.”

“Of course I believe in you Parrot,” Wifies murmurs, voice crackling. “Why else would I follow you everywhere?”

“I'm that persuasive?”

“Hardly.”

“Hey, not even a little?”

Wifies laughs. It’s a sweet sound. When Parrot pulls back to look, Wifies has his eyes closed, and he’s not quite smiling, but he’s not frowning either, which is a win. 

“You’re determined and direct,” Wifies says, letting the full weight of his head loll into Parrot’s hands. Parrot raises his other wing so they're encompassed by green and red and blue. “Which is what made me agree to help you at first. But then. . . I don’t know. You can be charming when you want to be. Not often, but on occasion.”

Parrot squawks indignantly just to hear Wifies laugh again. Wifies blinks his eyes open, and Parrot wipes away a stray tear.

“Do you know how touchy you are?” Wifies asks suddenly.

“Should I let go?”

“No, I just wonder if you know that. When you were upset, you made a real effort to not reach out. That’s how I knew it was serious.”

“Well, now you know it’s not serious.”

“Mm, this is serious too in its own way. You’re serious that you want me to stay.”

Parrot lifts Wifies’s head so that they’re eye to eye, bloodshot violet to his own green-blue blur, and says, “Deadly serious. I don’t want to be separated like this again. Knowing I had hurt you and couldn’t make it better? The absolute worst time of my life, I think.”

“It sucked,” Wifies agrees, finally cracking a smile. “It’s over now though. I think.”

“Of course it's over now, you're never allowed to leave me like that again,” Parrot scolds him entirely lighthearted and Wifies snorts.

“Don't yell at me again and I won't.”

“I won't, I'm sorry for yelling.”

Wifies laughs again, and despite the fact he's clearly reveling in having Parrot wrapped around his finger like this, Parrot can't even pretend to be annoyed. Wifies won't leave him again. It's all that matters right now. Any question or doubt dies a quiet death when Wifies reaches up to hold both of Parrot’s wrists in a loose grip.

“This is weirdly nice,” Wifies says, closing his eyes again. “I don't think anyone's ever touched my face so gently. I can't remember the feeling.”

“You just say when,” Parrot replies.

He's not being entirely selfless here— there's something soothing about running the pads of his thumbs over Wifies’s skin, like a promise that this moment is as real as when he left. Wifies can't leave him when they're like this, tangled up under Parrot’s wings under the rain.

“Then for just a bit longer,” Wifies says, and Parrot agrees. Just a bit longer.

[tuned-in-for-two]

As the night wore on, the atmosphere between Angel and Alastor grew more relaxed. The tension that had built up over the past few weeks seemed to melt away, and for the first time, Alastor allowed himself to let his guard down, if only a little.

After finishing their meal, Angel leaned back in his chair, looking up at the sky

Angel: *smiling lazily* Y'know, it’s kinda nice up here. Quiet. Just you, me, and the vastness of Hell’s sky.

Alastor: *tilting his head to the side, gazing up as well* Yes… it is rather pleasant. Though I suppose it’s not often I take the time to enjoy something as simple as this.

Angel: *glancing at Alastor* Yeah, well, you should. You don’t always have to be 'on,' Smiles.

Alastor: *softly* Old habits die hard, I suppose.

Angel sat up, his expression turning more serious as he watched Alastor. There was something vulnerable in Alastor’s eyes that he hadn’t seen before, and it made his heart ache a little. Angel knew how much pressure Alastor was under, especially with the pregnancy and the hotel’s constant chaos.

Angel: *gently* Hey… you know I got your back, right? I mean, I know I joke around a lot, but I’m serious. I’ll be there for you. You don’t have to do this alone.

Alastor: *looking at him, a flicker of something softer passing through his usually composed demeanor* You’re... quite persistent, Angel. But I suppose that’s not such a bad thing.

Angel: *smirking* Told ya. I don’t give up that easily.

There was a pause, the quiet between them stretching out comfortably. Alastor shifted in his seat, and for a moment, he looked as if he was wrestling with something.

Alastor: *almost hesitantly* Why are you doing this, Angel? Why me?

Angel blinked, surprised by the question. He wasn’t sure if Alastor was asking about the date or the support he’d been offering, but either way, Angel knew the answer.

Angel: *shrugging lightly* Because I care about you, Al. I mean, sure, you’re a pain in the ass sometimes, but... I see how much you’ve been going through. And... I dunno, I just wanna help. Make things a little easier for you. That’s all.

Alastor: *frowning slightly, his eyes narrowing in thought* Care... about me?

Angel: *nodding* Yeah. More than I probably should, if I’m being honest.

Alastor was quiet for a long moment, processing Angel’s words. It was rare for him to let someone in, let alone allow them to openly express affection toward him. And yet, here was Angel—unapologetically forward, but also surprisingly sincere.

Alastor: *finally, with a small smile* I see... Well, I must admit, you’ve been more dependable than I expected.

Angel: *grinning* That’s one way of sayin’ I’m growing on you.

Alastor let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. It wasn’t like him to be so open with his emotions, but something about Angel’s presence made him feel... safe. Perhaps it was the carefree nature of the date, or maybe it was the fact that Angel wasn’t asking for anything in return.

Angel: *reaching out, placing a hand on Alastor’s* Look, Smiles, I’m not expecting anything from you. I just want you to know I’m here. That’s all.

Alastor: *glancing at their hands, then meeting Angel’s eyes* I appreciate that, Angel. More than you know.

For the first time in a long while, Alastor allowed himself to be vulnerable. Maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to face everything on his own. And perhaps, Angel’s persistent kindness was something he could get used to.

Angel: *standing up and offering a hand* Wanna keep this party going? We can go for a walk or head back inside. Your call.

Just before taking his hand, the sound of a phone ringing ruined the mood.

Angel: *pulls out his phone and saw Val’s name on the Caller ID* Fucking Hell. Why now?!

Alastor: *glancing at Angel with mild curiosity* Is it him?

Angel: *nodding, gritting his teeth* Yeah. Guess the bastard’s got another 'urgent shoot' or some other bullshit.

Angel hesitated for a moment, not wanting to answer, but knowing he had no choice. If he ignored Valentino, the consequences would be far worse later. With a resigned sigh, he answered the call.

Angel: *forcing a chipper tone* Hey, Val! What’s up?

Valentino: *voice dripping with faux sweetness* Don’t 'hey Val' me, bitch. I need you at the studio. Now. Got a shoot lined up and you’re late.

Angel: *frustrated* It’s like midnight! I ain’t even on the schedule tonight—

Valentino: *cutting him off sharply* I don’t give a shit about the schedule, doll. You show up when I tell you to show up. I got clients ready to spend big, and I need my number one star on set.

Angel: *clenching his jaw, glancing at Alastor, who was watching him intently* I’m... kinda busy right now.

Valentino: *voice turning menacing* You busy, huh? Lemme remind you, Angel Cakes, that I own you. So unless you wanna lose that pretty little ass of yours, you’ll haul it down here in the next thirty minutes. Got it?

Angel: *his hand tightening around his phone, a flicker of anger crossing his face* Yeah... yeah, I got it.

Valentino: *satisfied* Good boy. Don’t keep me waiting. *click*

Angel hung up, his expression hardening as he stared down at the phone in his hand. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, the tension from the call thick in the air. Alastor, ever the keen observer, noticed the shift in Angel’s mood immediately.

Alastor: *softly* You’re going, aren’t you?

Angel: *sighing, rubbing the back of his neck* Yeah. Got no choice. Val’s not exactly the forgiving type.

Alastor: *frowning* He treats you like property. It's despicable.

Angel: *forcing a weak smile* Yeah, well, that’s the deal I made, I guess. You learn to live with it.

Alastor: *voice firm* You deserve better than this.

Angel: *shrugging, clearly trying to brush it off* It is what it is, Smiles. I’ll be fine. I always am.

Despite his attempt to play it cool, there was a visible weight on Angel’s shoulders. He looked at Alastor, hating the idea of leaving him, especially after their date had gone so well.

Angel: *sighing* Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t wanna bail on you like this.

Alastor: *his tone soft but resolute* Don’t apologize, Angel. It’s not your fault.

Angel: *nodding, his expression conflicted* Still... I hate leavin’ you like this. Especially tonight.

Alastor: *stepping closer, offering a rare, genuine moment of warmth* Take care of yourself, Angel. I’ll be here when you get back.

Angel blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in Alastor’s voice. For once, Alastor wasn’t putting on his usual mask of aloofness or charm. He was simply... there, offering support in his own quiet way.

Angel: *smiling, despite the situation* Thanks, Al. That... means a lot.

With a final glance, Angel turned and headed off into the night, his mood visibly darkening as he braced himself for whatever Valentino had in store for him. Alastor watched him go, a frown creasing his brow. He could feel a growing sense of protectiveness toward Angel—and an even deeper anger at Valentino for controlling him so ruthlessly.

[hydrachea]

One thing I've come to appreciate about going into a story after having sought out or seen spoilers is that to me, it doesn't ruin my experience of the story - it changes it. That doesn't apply to all spoilers, but I've been thinking about Penacony's biggest spoiler (really, the one that so many people saw, it wasn't even treated as a spoiler anymore long before it actually dropped. Which was shitty, but a different topic).

For some, knowing Firefly and Sam were the same person before the reveal might have soured their enjoyment of the story. But since HSR's quests aren't replayable, I ended up really appreciating knowing their identity in advance, because otherwise I don't think I could have noticed some things - like Firefly's occasional little slip-ups into her more professional side, or the one that marked me most was how in both Sam's conversation with Acheron and few words with the Trailblazer pre-reveal, you can hear Firefly in Sam's tone of voice in a way you couldn't before. It really gave me a new kind of appreciation for those scenes.

(I still wish the main quests could be viewed again, though.)

[emometalhead]

.

[the-kipsabian]

im really just struggling at this point again to think that i can do anything with writing. or that im any good at it, that the things i make are any good or worth anyones time. that what little i manage to push out rn is even worth the effort of even making

[curiosity-killed]

Lowkey hate the feeling I get periodically where I don’t hate my writing or stories but just feel…very unimpressed with them. Like, they’re fine but feel very lackluster and limp

[seilon]

kind of impressed I’ve managed to space out watching an 8-episode show over the span of several days instead of binging it. it has not been easy but I think it was worth it to give me an incentive to get through work the past few days