#you have no fucking idea what it's like to grow up like that

[haetrack]

"girl who is going to be okay" back with the hard hour!

i know you tend to write more dominant and sexier y/ns (which i think are chef's kiss, esp the doms) but when it comes to jaemin for some reason i always imagine him with a less experienced y/n.

he wants to be oh so sweet to you, taking his time by slowly dragging his cock through your warm walls, his head nuzzled in your neck, but you just won't stop squeezing around him out of nervousness. idk why but the image of a man trying his hardest to restrain himself from going the pace that he wants, having to come to a still multiple times while all the way inside you to just take a breather and calm down, is just so hot?

jaemin x afab!reader

wc: 6.4k

warnings: pwop LOL, established relationship, inexperienced reader, desperate jaemin, dry humping, fingering, praise, oral, protected sex, soft dom!jaemin, sub!reader

a/n: don't ask me what happened... i lost the fight against jaemin brainrot...

-

jaemin has been trying to control himself recently.

he’s always been more cautious with you knowing that you still get shy around him. he asks if he can kiss you, softly placing his lips on yours. his hands never grip too tight around your waist, and they never wander down too far. unless it’s you who’s initiating the touching, he’ll keep his hands to himself to stop the need to hold you tight against him.

even if he wants to.

it’s been an ongoing struggle recently. he doesn’t know why, but he’s been filled with the need to have your warm walls around his length. on the late nights where you’re not there with him, he’s left alone to fuck his fist, imagining it’s you wrapped around him. he’d be so good to you, taking care of your every need.

he knows that he’s supposed to take it slow with you. you opened up to him saying that you were more inexperienced and that you were open to trying things with him. you just wanted to take it slow, you weren’t in a rush. he obviously respected your opinion, but he can’t help the thoughts that flooded his mind.

all he could manage was a soft smile and a press of his lips onto yours. he couldn’t wait to have you how you wanted.

-

jaemin wants you to come onto him. he doesn’t want to pressure you into something you’re not ready for yet. 

it’s one night where you’re both watching a movie. you’re cuddled up into his side, trying hard to pay attention to the movie playing in front of you. you’re not sure what’s gotten into you, but you can’t stop thinking about jaemin. he’s not doing anything, his hand is smoothing over your side as he watches the movie. 

you keep thinking of your words from the other day. you were the one who suggested going slow, but as you’re sitting next to him now, you’re not sure how you’re supposed to hold up your words. you don’t know how to bring it up. you’re not even sure what exactly it is that you want.

you can feel heat building up in your body, your cheeks growing hot the more time you spend at jaemin’s side. you bury your head into his shoulder, and jaemin coos at the sight of you. you almost feel guilty for feeling so… like this while he has no idea. you can feel frustration build up inside you, tears threatening to prick at your eyes as you want something you’re not even used to.

you accidentally let out a soft whine, immediately slapping a hand around your mouth. you pull away from jaemin, your shocked eyes looking into his. he looks more worried than anything, his eyes scanning all across your face as he asks, “are you alright, angel? is anything wrong?”

he watches as you shake your head no. for a moment, he’s worried for you, his hands moving to hold yours as he checks over you. he’s quick to realize how your thighs are squeezing together. it’s easy for him to pick up what’s wrong with you. there’s a small smile on his face when he puts one of his hands on your cheek, “you feel hot. you need to tell me what’s wrong so i can help you.”

judging by how he’s looking at you, you can tell he probably already knows what’s wrong. you let out a shaky breath, unable to come up with any words. his thumb rubs softly into the skin of your cheek as you nuzzle into his touch. you take a deep breath before you speak, “i… i need your help, jaemin.”

he tilts his head, “with what?”

“w-want you to… touch me.” before he can do anything, you reach for his hand, placing it softly onto your thigh. he stares at it, squeezing lightly as he feels around. he’s touched you before, but there’s a difference between now and the quick, soft touches that he usually lays onto you. you’re asking him to touch you in a voice he’s never heard from you before.

he calls out your name, getting your attention as he stares into your eyes. you slowly move toward him, softly placing your lips onto his. that’s all he needs, your confirmation as he molds his lips against you. his hands hold your face, keeping you still as your hands stay on the couch. one eventually makes it to his thigh, lightly touching it like he touched you earlier.

he lets you pull away from the kiss to take a breath. he finds himself slightly out of breath, too caught up with the feeling of your lips. he wants to feel you closer to him, despite you sitting right by him. he clears his throat, “can i try something?”

you whisper out a yes. he tells you to stand up as you watch him get more comfortable on the couch, spreading his legs apart. he looks up at you, patting his thighs, “come and sit down.”

the initial nervousness comes back as you feel more heat bloom in your face. your hands squeeze into fists as you debate on what you should do. it doesn’t last long, though. there’s a need for you to be close to him, to have him hold you as you kiss him. you want to feel the heat of his body against you as he kisses you.

you move slowly as you settle yourself on top of his thighs. it’s not uncomfortable, but you’re nervous to have him this close to you. he’s smiling at you, his hands sliding up on your thighs, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. he bats his eyelashes at you, “do you still want to kiss?”

nodding, you learn forward to press your lips onto his. you’re mindful of how you’re sitting on him, not wanting to put all your weight down on him. he’s quick to run his hands down your sides, getting you to fully sit down on him. 

he hums against you, gripping down onto your waist. he has you so close, and he can feel how warm you are against him. his tongue darts out, licking at your bottom lip. you open up slightly, letting his tongue lick into your mouth. it’s different from the soft kisses he gives you, and you welcome it as you move your tongue against his.

a soft whine escapes you, and before jaemin can try to get you to make that sound again, you instinctively roll your hips down onto his thigh. jaemin lets out an internal groan, swearing that he could feel you clench on top of him. all he’s done is kiss you and you’re already worked up. you move to get closer to him, your chest against his as he presses a hand to your back.

you roll your hips down, small noises escaping your mouth as you chase any type of friction you can get. your hands make it onto his shoulders for support as you mindlessly grind against him. 

jaemin can feel himself getting hard from the way you’re moving on top of him and from the way you’re whimpering in his mouth. he grabs your hips, shifting you right on top of his clothed cock. you don’t seem to notice at first, but when his cock twitches against his thigh, you pull away from him, staring down.

jaemin starts, “when you move like that on top of me…”

“it feels good for you, too?” 

he nods, smoothing his hand over your back, “i think i could cum just like this. whatever you do, angel, i like.”

you gasp at his words, feeling his hands snake around to your back, moving you forward against him. he lets out a swear at the feeling, moving his hands to your waist as you grind down. there’s a newfound desperation in your movements knowing that jaemin feels just as good as you feel, that you’re making him feel this way. 

you’re on top of him, rolling down your hips in a way that seems too out of character for you. the shy, reserved self that you show to him is gone, replaced with the need to get yourself off with him. you’re using him, pants of his name fan across the skin on his neck as his hands wander a little further down.

he’s no better than you. he’s letting out low grunts as his hips roll up to meet yours. his hands finally make it to your ass, giving it a light squeeze as he lets out a curse. there’s been too many times he’s had to stop himself from doing this, his hands moving a little rougher against you. he helps you roll your hips down onto him, grinding you down onto his tip.

he could easily flip you over, could pull down your shorts and panties and rut against your leaking pussy. but he can’t, choosing to be content with how he has you now. he grits his teeth, pushing away the thoughts as he hears you let out a whimper of his name. he asks with a low voice, “angel, do you feel like you might cum?”

you don’t answer right away, your whines and whimpers filling the air as you try to process what he said. you can feel him twitching under you, rolling his hips up against yours. your head falls to his shoulder, “jaemin, i need… i need to cum!”

his hands grip your hips, setting a pace for you as he grinds you harder against him. it doesn’t take long for you to cum, not when he’s holding you and letting out groans of your name. seeing you so desperate to cum pushes him over the edge, cum staining his boxers as he ruts his hips up.

there’s a comfortable silence between the two of you, heavy breaths filling the air as you collect yourselves. his arms wrap around your back, pulling you into a hug. you smile against his shoulder, your arms trying their best to wrap around his slumped figure on the couch.

it doesn’t take you long to start whining, “i’m hot and sticky all at the same time, jaemin. i think we might need to move.”

he murmurs against you, “let me hold you a little longer, angel. i liked this so much.”

“i did, too,” you press a kiss to his skin, “and as much as i did, i need to shower.”

a laugh fills the space between the two of you, “of course.” he pulls away from you, watching as you stand up on wobbly legs. to your embarrassment, he moves to walk you to the restroom, ignoring your complaints. 

-

jaemin thought that maybe just that once, you would act out on your instincts.

he noticed that you let him be a bit more touchier. he didn’t want to push anything, but he let his hands linger on you a lot longer than they used to. you didn’t even shy away when he would, you’d let his hands stay where they want to be. you’re the same, you kiss him more openly; you try teasing him a bit more, too. 

he likes seeing you be more open with him, likes seeing you feel more confident in your love. he’ll do anything you want him to if it means he can make you feel more comfortable. 

it’s another day that he’s at his apartment with you. you’ve had more time to come over, more time to spend with your boyfriend. he doesn’t expect anything because he has to remind himself: you want to take it slow. he doesn’t mind, he loves spending time with you regardless.

he doesn’t really expect you to come to him that day while he moves you both to his bedroom, a shy look as you approach him, “jaemin…”

he smiles at you, “hey, angel. what is it?’

“can we… can we do what we did the other day again?’

“what do you mean? what did we do exactly?”

you’re not dumb to not notice his sly smirk, a cat-like grin growing on his face. he knows exactly what you mean, but he’s trying to get you to say it. your face heats up, murmuring out words that you can’t even understand.

he moves to sit on the corner of the bed, his head tilting at your mumbled words. he reaches his arms out towards you, “you’re gonna have to tell me what it is that you want, baby. can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”

without much thinking, you move to sit down on jaemin’s thighs. he didn’t expect you to move like that on your own, shown by how his breath hitches in his throat. his hands don’t hesitate to move to your waist, bringing you closer to him before they drop to your thighs. his thumbs move to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, causing you to shiver on top of him.

he chuckles at the sight of you, likes how your shorts have ridden up, giving him all access to your thighs. he pushes you right on top of his bulge, and slowly grinds you down on top of him, “i had my baby waiting for too long, hm? i should’ve known you needed me, right?”

you’re already feeling dizzy from his words, trying to grind down on him already, trying to chase the feeling from before. his hands stop you, though, keeping you in place. he bites back a groan when he feels you squirm on top of him, “won’t you tell me how much you needed me?”

your voice comes out breathy, “i- couldn’t stop thinking about you. i tried touching myself, but… it just didn’t feel right without you.”

jaemin’s grip on you gets tighter, his eyes shutting at the thought. imagining you stuffing your hands in your shorts, trying to make yourself feel just as good as he made you feel. he lurches forward, caging you in a heated kiss. he can feel you try to keep up with him, your arms wrapping around his neck as you do.

he can feel how desperate you are, no restraint shown in how you moan into his mouth. you’re more unrestrained, and he loves it, loves how he’s made you like this. he’s just as needy as you are, probably even more than you are. he’s the first one to start moving, his hips grinding up into yours. he’s practically using you like a toy, groaning in your ear at the feeling.

his grip loosens, allowing you to move with him. you drag your clit along his hardening cock, clenching around nothing as jaemin peppers kisses along your shoulder. it feels just as good as last time, but you can't help but feel like you’re missing something. you want him, you need him to help you make you feel good. “jaemin, i-” you whimper, “i w-want more, please.”

he has to forcibly stop himself from grinding up to you, focusing on your words, “what do you want me to do?”

you grab one of his hands, looking at his fingers before placing it back at your inner thigh, “i-i want you to touch me. like how i tried touching myself.”

jaemin’s head tilts back, eyes shutting at your words. you can feel him twitch under you, his hands balling at his sides. he takes a breath before refocusing on you, “can you stand up for me?”

you do, moving off of him, immediately whining when you’re not close to him. he shushes you lightly when he rests against the headboard of his bed, his legs spread, eyes filled with need as he looks at you. “come here, angel. i’ll make you feel good.”

you crawl over to him, and as you’re about to face him, he turns you around so that your back is towards him. he pulls you against his chest, his head resting on your shoulder as he coos at you, “can you take off your shorts for me, baby?”

you’re a bit shy, but do so nonetheless. you struggle, too eager for him to continue. he watches you, eyes zeroing in on the expanse of skin being exposed to him. this is the most he’s ever seen of you, and you’re not even fully undressed. without thinking, he says, “you’re so pretty, angel. so pretty, just for me, hm?”

you’re quick to agree, your back pressing against his chest. you can feel his cock twitch under you, and it makes you more eager. his fingers leave featherlight touches along your thighs, inching close to where you need him most. he hums in your ear, “needed me to feel good, couldn’t touch yourself without my help. you’ll let me help you, right?”

you let out a whine at his words, squirming on top of his lap to get him to continue. he lets out a low chuckle, “my eager baby, i’ll make you feel good. just be patient.”

his fingers trace circles on your inner thighs, enjoying the small noises you let out at his teasing. you don’t try to rush him anymore, trying your best to stay still on his lap. you’re biting down on your lip when his fingers rest on the edge of your panties. he’s sitting there, so close to your heat while pressing kisses to your neck, and you’re not sure how much more you can take.

“jaemin, please touch me. i wanna know how it feels.”

he traces his fingers along your clothed slit. he immediately lets out a shaky breath when he does, realizing just how wet you are from the little touches he’s offered you. you’re like this because of him, and he knows you’ve never felt like this for anyone else. he’ll make sure you’ll never want anyone to do this to you.

“you’re dripping, angel,” his fingers press against your clit, “is it all for me?”

you gasp, hips twitch at the feeling, “y-yes! all for you, please keep going.”

he can’t say no when you ask so nicely, your sweet voice taking over all of his thoughts. his middle finger makes slow circles on your clit, enjoying the way whimpers easily begin slipping out of you. you hold onto his arm for support, your hips trying to rut up in his touch, unknowingly trying to gain more stimulation.

his other hand that’s not touching you pries your leg open, keeping it from trying to shut around his hand. you’re so sensitive, responding to the light touches with high pitched moans, whimpers of his name rolling off of your tongue. he has to forcibly stop himself from grinding into your ass, biting the inside of his cheek when he can feel himself twitching. 

he knows you need more when your nails begin to dig into the skin of his arms. his arm has a hard time trying to keep your legs open for him, caught up in all the sensitivity of his touches. you break when he speeds up the circles on your clit, “j-jaemin, hold on! i might- i might cum!”

“isn’t that what my angel wants?”

you feel embarrassed asking, but if you don’t tell him, he’ll never know, “can we… i wanna feel your fingers on me- or in me.”

jaemin’s head tilts back onto the headboard, all of his restraint lost at your words. “i’ll help you, wanna show you just how good you can feel. is that okay with you?”

“yes… please, jaemin.”

his fingers move to pull your panties to the side, exposing your dripping pussy to him. he bites down on his lip again to contain the moan that threatens to slip out. he can look over and see how wet you are for him, how you’re on display for him. “my angel has the prettiest pussy i’ve ever seen,” he lets out a breath at the whimper that comes from you, “so needy just for my fingers.”

you let out a whine, your hips bucking into the air as you try to search for any friction. he finally gives in, two fingers moving to circle at your clit. you melt immediately, head lolling onto his shoulder, loud whimpers filling the air. he mumbles in your ear, “wanna get you all wet for me before i try fingering you, okay?”

“please keep going.”

he presses a kiss to the shell of your ear, fingers speeding up on your clit. he can feel you begin twitching on top of him, legs threatening to close on his hand. you try to keep yourself spread open for him. jaemin’s other hand slowly trails up your body, reaching under your shirt to one of your boobs. he groans when he realizes you aren’t wearing a bra, fingers meeting a hard nipple.

with jaemin’s fingers on your clit and tugging on your nipple, it doesn’t take long for you to begin dripping all over the sheets. your moans have raised in pitch, calling out to him, begging him for more. “you’re ready for my fingers, angel? wanna feel them inside you?”

a moan of his name slips out of you, pleading for him. he plants a kiss on your shoulder, licking at the spot right after, “of course, baby. gonna take it slow for you.”

his hand slides down, his middle finger making it to your entrance. he shushes you when you start squirming, his finger slowly sliding inside you. it feels different, but good. your legs shut around his hand, and he lets it happen as he watches in awe. you’re so tight, he thinks. he wonders how he’s gonna fit himself inside of your tight pussy.

the thought makes him twitch in his pants, bringing himself back to the task at hand. your legs slowly open back up, your hips rolling in time with the movements of his finger. he didn’t expect to see the sight of you like this this fast. you let out a moan, “wan’ another finger, jaemin.”

“angel’s ready for another?” his ring finger moves to your entrance, slowly entering inside along with his middle finger. he can feel you tightly clench around his fingers, letting out a cry when his palm rubs against your clit. it’s too much, the sensation bringing you quickly to the edge. it’s only intensified when jaemin curls his fingers inside you, finding a spot inside you the sends shocks along your spine.

“feel good, baby?”

you can barely hear him, thighs beginning to shake as he presses he continues presses his fingers against your sweet spot. you’re falling apart quickly, his fingers plunging deep inside you as his other hand moves back to your boob, groping at the flesh. you let out a sob, “gonna cum, jaemin. wanna cum so bad!”

“yeah, gonna cum all over my fingers? go ahead and cum, pretty.”

your head falls back onto his shoulders, a wail leaving you as you cum, clenching on his fingers. his watches you intensely, watches how you’re left a mess because of him. he gives up on keeping your legs open, liking just how much you show how good he’s making you feel. 

he leaves kisses along your neck, his hand thumbing over your nipple and his palm slowly rubbing into your clit. you ride out your orgasm, letting out a squeak when the stimulation feels a little too much. he removes his hands from you, choosing to wrap them around you as he whispers in your ear, “did so good for me, angel. loved watching you fall apart because of me.”

while you’re coming down from your high, jaemin subtly brings his fingers that are wet with your slick to his mouth. he almost wants to moan around his fingers, realizing that you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. he likes the taste of you on his tongue so much, realizing he might just have to do more than finger you next time.

your breaths begin to even out, your mind becoming clear from the haze you were in. you can feel jaemin nuzzle into your neck, but more importantly, you can feel his dick press into your backside. he’s still hard, and you realize he hasn’t cum yet.

jaemin watches as you slowly turn your body to face him, sliding down to your knees. he moves to sit at the edge of the bed, your dazed eyes following his every move. your head moves to rest on his knee, looking up at him with a pretty smile on your face, “are you gonna teach me how to make you feel good?”

he follows your hand that trails up his thigh, dangerously close to his bulge. his angel wants to make him feel good. his hand cups your cheek, thumb sliding across your skin, “gonna be good for me, baby?”

-

over the course of a few weeks, jaemin has been seeing a change in you.

you’re more touchy now, easing into his side as you cuddle on the couch. you don’t shy away when he touches you either, choosing to go along with his antics. you tease him, a playful smile on your face when you let yourself sit on his lap.

now, you try to initiate more intimate acts with him. you’re still a little nervous, jaemin helping you along the way as you lay back onto his bed, fingers moving inside you. you always return the favor, jaemin liking the way you look with his cock in your mouth way too much.  he’s also had the time to eat you out, easily folding when you ask him to use his mouth one day.

which is how he finds himself today, harshly sucking on your clit while his fingers plunge into your dripping cunt. your whimpers and moans fill the air, almost covering up the lewd sounds of jaemin eating you out. every time he does this, he acts like a man starved, licking at your entrance just to get a taste of your slick.

one of his hands makes it to your boob, kneading at the flesh just to get you to moan out for him, just to feel you clench harder around his fingers. you whine when he pulls his fingers out of you, his tongue moving to lap at your hole. what’s different is that his tongue slips in, pressing into your hole.

your hips jut into his face, his nose rubbing against your clit. it feels so new, and it sets off a desire in you. your mind is now needing to be filled up with something more, something that jaemin can easily provide to you.

one of your hands wraps around the one on your boob, moving to interlock his fingers with yours. you can feel him smile against you, speeding up his movements. you call out to him weakly, getting his attention as he hesitantly moves away from your pussy. you try to ignore how his mouth and chin are wet, his low voice asking, “what is it, baby?”

you try to put yourself together, your voice coming out shaky when his other thumb rubs against your clit, “i-i’m ready.”

“ready to cum? i’ll make sure you do.”

before he can plunge back to your cunt, you call him once more, “not for that! well, to cum, but… i think i’m ready to have sex with you.”

at lightning speed, he sits up, eyes bulging out of his head, “really? are- are you sure? it’s not too soon?”

“no,” you smile, “i-i mean, i trust you. i trust you to, um, take care of me.”

he watches as shyness takes over you, avoiding eye contact as you talk. there’s a soft smile on your face, your words being genuine. “you should’ve told me so i could’ve made today more special,” he nags, “i could’ve had a whole day with you, angel.”

you let out an airy laugh, “any time i get to spend with you is special, jaemin.”

he huffs, “if you say you’re ready, then you’re ready. if at any point in time you want me to stop, i’ll stop. we can do anything you want, just say the word.”

“want this, jaemin. want you.”

he lets out an affirming okay, quickly sliding off of the bed in order to take his sweats off, choosing to leave his boxers on for now. he quickly rejoins you, “i’m gonna finger you some more, alright, baby? wanna make sure that you’ll be nice and ready for me.”

you nod, choosing to sit up a little more as you watch two of his fingers slide into you. you’re still so wet, his fingers easily plunging inside you. he scissors his fingers inside you, stretching you out for him. his thumb hooks around to your clit, rubbing in tight circles that has your head lolling back. 

“doesn’t take long for you to get ready for me, hm? my baby just needs my help, right?’ his words shoot straight to your core, pushing you close to cumming. he can feel you clench tightly, adding a third finger as he continues. 

you tell him that you’re close, whining that you want to cum with him instead. he smiles at you, cooing, “want you to cum now, then i’ll know that you’re ready to take my cock.”

you immediately let go, cumming all over his fingers. he knows what sets you off now, how to get you to cum quickly with just a few motions. he grins at the sight of you, “so good for me, my baby is so good for me.”

you swat him away when he tries continuing, a small laugh leaving him as you do. his hand smoothing over your thigh calms you, bringing you back to look up at him with a certain look. he bites down on his lip when you speak, “i think i’m ready- think i’m ready for you, jaemin.”

“yeah?” jaemin tries not to sound nervous himself, “my baby needs me already?”

you nod, covering your face in embarrassment at his words. it’s even more embarrassing when you ask, “you have c-condoms, right?”

he reaches over to his nightstand, fishing one out from the bottom of his drawer. since he started dating you, he hasn’t found the need to buy anymore. he thanks his past self for leaving just a few behind, he would’ve died if he had to say no to you now. a bright smile shines on his face when he shows it to you, laughing at you when you look at it weirdly.

“wanna watch me put it on?”

you laugh at his words, thanking him internally for trying to lighten the mood.

as jaemin slides the condom on, he realizes he wants this just as bad as you do. he notices how his chest is heaving with every breath he takes, and he’s not even inside you yet. his eyes glance up towards yours, looking back at him, pleading for him to just do something. “i’m gonna start moving. angel, need you to tell me if i need to slow down or stop moving.”

you nod sweetly at him, hand moving to cup his cheek, thumb smoothing over his skin. “i love you, jaemin. you can start.”

your sweet words and action has his skin burning up, his cheeks turning red as he lines himself up at your entrance. he can feel how warm you are, his tip sliding over your slit a few times, working the both of you up. his body hovers over yours, moving to press kisses on your neck when he slides in.

your nails dig into his shoulders when he presses in. he lets out a grunt, “s-so tight, need you to relax, baby. can’t move if you’re not relaxed.”

“s-sorry! i just- you’re so big.”

he groans at your words, his head falling to your shoulder again. he slips out of you, giving you a second to relax before you give him the go ahead again. he slowly slips his tip in, wincing when he feels you clamp down on him. he bites down on his lip to stop any embarrassing sounds from coming out, hand soothing your side as he pushes more of his length in.

it’s a weird feeling for you, it doesn’t exactly hurt, but he is stretching you open. nothing this big has been inside you, so used to his fingers. you let out broken whines, asking him to stop at certain points. your nails lightly scratch down his back, 

his hips finally are flush against yours, his cock buried deep inside you. you can feel him twitch, slightly shaking on top of you. he’s trying to calm you down, soft words being whispered into your ear, followed by soft kisses. his thumb snakes between your bodies, tracing light circles on your clit.

if only you knew how much he was struggling not to buck his hips into your cunt. you’re so tight, so warm, clenching down on his cock. your walls are getting used to the intrusion, soft pants fanning across his face. you call out his name, his hips accidentally pushing closer to you as you clench around him. he quickly apologies, eyebrows furrowing at the feeling.

“i-” you let out a breath, “i want you to s-start moving. s-slowly, please.”

“of course, angel. like i said, tell me if i need to stop, if i need to slow down, or anything, okay?”

you nod quickly, jaemin leaning back up, his eyes staring down at where you two are connected. you spare a look, getting embarrassed at the sight. he starts slowly moving, pulling slowly out of you before pushing back in. you can feel every inch of him, your warm walls inviting him in. it’s so easy for you to just let him take over, the feeling slowly bleeding into pleasure as he gets a rhythm.

while you’re getting used to the feeling, jaemin seems to be losing himself in you. every time he moves his hips, he can feel how wet you are. it’s like you try to suck him back in when he tries pulling out, like you need him to keep on fucking you. your arms are wrapped around his shoulder, bringing him closer to you. he’s surrounded by all of you, your scent, your cunt, the pretty sounds you’re making.

when you start moaning his name, he has to stop, head falling to your shoulder as he tries to keep his composure. he knows he can’t just yet, but he wants to fuck into your cunt, wants to have you fucked stupid just because of his cock. the thought makes him twitch inside you, the feeling of his orgasm already bubbling up in his abdomen.

he lets out a shaky exhale before he starts moving again, a little faster than before. “how’re you feeling, baby? tell me how it f-feels for you.”

“feels so good, jaemin! your cock feels so good inside me!”

you clench down on him, your hips rolling up into his. you’re moving in time with his thrusts, your nails raking down his back, leaving trails of red marks for later. he doesn’t care though, not when you’re wrapped tightly around him, not when he gets to hear you moan his name. all he can think about is you, and how badly he wants to flip you over and really fuck you.

“so tight, you keep clenching so tight around me, wanna make this pussy mine. tell me it’s mine, angel.”

“please! ‘s all yours, i’m all yours!”

he lets out a growl, he’s quickening his pace, hands gripping onto the sheets near your head. he needs to kiss you or else he might think about how bad you need him, how he’s been the one to show you all this. you kiss him back, whining into his mouth as your chest arches into his. he can feel your hard nipples against his chest, letting out a low fuck.

he can feel himself getting close, his thumb rubbing quick circles on your clit. he can start feeling you clench around him, your voice rising in volume as you start babbling out to him. he prays that your close, too. he doesn’t think he can last much longer, not with the way you’re wrapping around him.

“gonna cum, angel? you wanna cum, gonna cum with me?”

he sounds so needy, just as fucked out as you are. you can barely register his words, but you know you need to cum just as bad as he does. he picks up his pace, his hands gripping onto your hips as he pounds into you. his low moans join your whines and whimpers, jumbled praises leaving his mouth as he gets closer, “s-so good for me, angel. pussy made just for me, only for me. no one else will ever have you like this.”

you nod, tears pricking your eyes as you come undone, cumming all over his cock. he’s quick to follow, unable to stop himself from cumming when you clench down on his cock. he’s groaning in your ear, quickly moving to messily kiss you. he licks into your mouth, moaning when you start milking his cock.

he slows down, quickly sliding out of you. he sits back on his knees, eyes staring at your spent pussy. he’s broken from his trance when you let out an embarrassed whine of his name. he chuckles when you shut your legs, sliding the condom off before tossing it in the trash.

you’re so tired, all of your energy being used up. jaemin rejoins you in bed, hand smoothing over your thigh, admiring the glow emanating off of you, almost wishing he could take a picture. maybe for another time, he thinks, he’ll bring it up later.

it’s quiet, enjoying the presence of your boyfriend as his light touches move all over. before you can fall asleep, his voice calls out to you, “angel, we gotta get you cleaned up.”

you whine, “but ‘m too tired, you did this to me.”

he laughs, hand moving to hold yours, “i know, i know. let me make it up to you, let me take care of my baby, hm?”

you sigh contentedly, “in five minutes.”

he can’t ever argue with you, easily giving up when he lays right by your side, “five minutes, baby.”

[privitivium]

ok but how about a dom reader whos always busy (workaholic and shi) x an always clingy n touchy sub yan.

like. reader is never at home. and when he finally come back ends up doesn't paying that much attention to yan, sayin 'im too tired' or going to his home office. eventually being followed by yan cause omfg poor boy is basically starving for a little bit of attention. he still declines yan's pleadings tho

then one day this man shows up earlier and completely EAGER for his yan. idk what more can i say. breeding? degradation? daddy kink? dumbification? what could happen when theyre feeling so fucking needy for each other?

(also i love your writing so so much!!!!!!! <3

workaholic male reader, clingy sub yandere ^ rambles. euugh

dumbification works w either imo, reader fucking lover til hes stupid while simultaneously fucking his lover stupid?!

amab//domtop reader/subbot yandere, cw;; breeding, daddy kink, dumbification xd wanna rework this into a more ,,, eloquent fic. soon. have been busy. i really liked this idea so. will do on my own soon.

workaholic you, growing super distant… obviously making your lover paranoid. because what if you're cheating on him? you aren't, of course - he knows that, but he cant stop those kinds of thoughts from popping into his mind…!!! humping your pillow to ease himself while ur at work, watching the camera feed of you in your office… sigh…. often hearing the dreaded words accompanied by a soft simple pat on his back - not even a kiss... "sorry... please, baby, not right now. i'm too tired." he sobs himself to sleep, knowing you're only providing for him,,,, it hurts!!!

all his worries wash away when you arrive home earlier than usual! concerned, but all the more happy to see you appear in the doorway of your home… breathing ragged, looking all dark and mysterious,,,, the mere sight of you looking all deranged makes him hot and bothered. ignoring the way his dick twitches to life, uhmㅡ

"honey? why are you home so early, sweetheart?” draping himself across your front in a very affectionate hug. he couldnt help himself-! and, much to his delight you were not pushing him awayㅡand practically throwing yourself onto him?!?! hh..h.hh...

there you were,,, grasping his face in your hands, pressing your lips against his so hungrilyㅡ “i need youㅡneed you. need you.” expressing your apparent neediness over and over as you bury your face in the crook of his neck ㅡ he was startled, but so fucking eager to comply? feeling the way your boner presses against him? you were that eager for him just as he is you???,,,,, he nearly faints. tearing up with a now raging erectionㅡ “please, baby, i need you - i need you reallyㅡreally badly-” so fucking happy as he completely smothers you in his love,,,

you don't need to tell him twice,,, throwing the front door closed…,,, leading him to the bedroom, covering his face in kissesㅡeven when there was a perfectly good couch right there to make love on. he won't complain,,,, hes gotten used to the null feeling of toys...,,, so, feeling the very loving embrace of your dick filling him up overstimulates him rather.,,, quickly!!! thinking about how truly awful you are to neglect this pretty litte thing, how could you? so, so very awful.

your darling little lover sobbing on your cock… he's so beautiful - experiencing his love and affection for the first time in forever? berating yourself for being so distant,,, pouring all your frustration at yourself into his flexing taut hole,,,, “mm-misssed you… s-so mu-uch daddy-!” he doesn't seem to catch what he just moaned… too drunk on the feeling of your cock pistoning in and out of him - it feels otherwordly?!

and, i mean. going along with it. with ease, because he deserves everything. especially, anything for your darling lover who just wants affection, your love!!! laughing breathlessly as you piston your hips against his, nuzzling your nose into the side of his head - peppering his face in kisses, “daddy's right here, sweet thing - n-never leaving again, y'hear?” it was… a little odd, but fitting. afterall, you're pumping load after load - breeding him. obviously you'd be the daddy in this situation…,,,,

[xspeter]

LOML

luke castellan x fem!reader

angst, angst, angst. mini blurb to help me get my flow back :) based off of LOML by Taylor Swift.

Percy Jackson isn’t sure what’s worse. Luke’s betrayal, or the look on your face when you find out. He’s sure he’ll get nightmares about it.

You’d had a wide smile on your face, the woven flower crown in your hair hinting that you’d just been out at the flower fields with your siblings.

You’d been called to help patch up Percy after what you had been told was a fight, but the somber energy in the room immediately told you something was off. It was too suspicious to have Chiron, Mr. D, Percy, Annabeth, and Grover all in the room for what was supposed to simply be slapping on a band-aid.

The smile on your face fell, and was instead replaced with a subtle frown. Your eyebrows furrowed, and you crossed your arms over your chest uncomfortably. “Is something wrong?” You asked, eyeing everyone in the room.

Percy swallowed and hesitantly glanced to Annabeth, who already had the remnants of tears in her eyes. And if the glossiness told him anything, it was that she was about to burst out crying again. Not that he could blame her.

He watched your frown grow as recognition flashed across your face. You and Luke always had been so in tune to each others emotions, he’s honestly surprised you didn’t notice the lack of his presence earlier.

“Y/N-” Chiron started, but you interrupted him. “Where’s Luke?”

Silence.

Percy didn’t believe in soulmates. It’s weird, because after finding out about greek gods and mythological beings being real, you’d think soulmates wouldn’t be that far off the table. But, they were.

But you and Luke had something Percy could tell was special. It wasn’t just a relationship - it was like a sacred bond bestowed upon the two of you by the gods themselves. Wherever Luke was, you’d be sure to follow, and vice versa. Fuck, you’d practically finish each other’s sentences as corny as that sounded.

That’s why he was so confused Luke would throw it all away so easily.

“Y/N…” Mr. D started, and Percy was sure it was the most emotion he’d ever even seen from him. You immediately began shaking your head, hands trembling as you stared at the ground. “Where is he?” You questioned again.

More silence followed, and Percy knew no one wanted to answer you, and he could understand why. Still, he took a breath and forced himself to look up at you. “He’s gone.”

It was like the five stages of grief flashed in your eyes simultaneously - merging together but still so distinguishable.

“No, he’s not.” You whimpered, “He’s in his cabin. I just saw him barely an hour ago-”

“He tried to kill Percy,” Annabeth finally breathed out. “He wants to overthrow the gods.”

You shook your head, a disbelieving laugh leaving your lips as you ran a trembling hand through your hair, moving up the white flower crown until it was lopsided on your head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You said through gritted teeth, “Luke wouldn’t do that. I know him. I know him. He wouldn’t. It must’ve been- been a shapeshifter or something. I mean, with all the other monsters out there there has to be a shapeshifter right? Yeah. That’s all it was. It wasn’t Luke.”

Percy squeezed the table in front of him until his knuckles were white, doing his best to choke down his tears. It was a tempting idea, one that he’d have no problem believing if it hadn’t been for the look in Luke’s eyes. No monster could recreate that kind of rage.

“It was him,” Percy spoke up, “I know it was.”

“You don’t know anything!” You yelled, eyes wild and skin paling, “You don’t know Luke like I do! He wouldn’t do this! Sure, he gets mad at the gods sometimes, but don’t we all? It doesn’t mean we’re gonna up and start a whole rebellion!”

Grover attempted to reach out to you, tears forming in his dark eyes, “I know it’s hard-” He attempted, but you practically jumped away from him. “Don’t touch me.” You growled lowly, pointing an accusing finger in his face. Grover didn’t argue.

Everyone in the room stared at you in pity, and it made you sick. You’d show them. Luke was in his cabin right now, probably trying to sleep or playing with one of the younger campers. Because that’s what Luke does - that’s the Luke you know.

You were the love of his life. He’d told you just two days ago during a secret picnic on the beach way past your curfew. You’d choked up, but told him the same through your tears. Luke had kissed you so hard you swore you were seeing stars, and you remember thinking this kiss had felt different than all the others. Almost desperate, like he was trying to grasp onto something he knew he was losing.

No.

Luke was in his cabin.

You’d left the Big House without even a grunt, practically sprinting across camp to the Hermes cabin. You didn’t care about the weird looks the stragglers were giving you, didn’t care about the soft ache in your legs. You needed to see Luke. Needed to feel him. Needed to intertwine your souls again.

You were panting by the time you reached it, throwing the doors open and looking around wildly. “Luke?” You called, voice breaking a bit as you did.

“Y/N?” someone said, you didn’t know their name. Or maybe you did. You honestly couldn’t remember right now, the only thing running through your mind was Luke.

“Have you seen Luke?” You asked.

The camper shook her head, blonder hair falling in front of her face as she did. “Hey, are you okay-”

You were gone before she could even finish her sentence. You spent hours searching for him, like he was a pair of house keys you’d lost and desperately needed in order to go home.

The moon was high into the sky by the time you stop, your vision blurry with tears and muscles burning. You’d even prayed to your father at some point - which was something you rarely ever did.

You fall to your knees in the grass, hand clutching at the golden bracelet on your wrist. Like had given it to you two nights ago on the beach, embroided in it were the letters “LOML.”

He’dtold you it was because you were the love of his life, but right now in this moment, with your chest puffing and knees weak, you think it may stand for something else.

Because while you may be the love of Luke Castellan’s life, he was the loss of yours.

[corroded-hellfire]

Requests pre-Eliza? Of course we have 😅 I don't know about y'all but we need bff Jess to come back! I mean hello? Best friend, where are you? As personal experience, I have known my girl for over a decade now and we share pretty much and I we shop together, not as much as we'd like but we do, and we often give advice (more like buy it now or throw away whatever that is) and that is also about lingerie or sexy underwear, we do enjoy to surprise our men and also feel a lil sexy with ourselves and with what we wear ❤️‍🔥👯‍♀️

We love Jess, we stan Jess. And it’s only fitting that this story about best friends was written with my best friend @munson-blurbs 💚

Warnings: mentions of smut

Words: 2.1k

[As You Wish masterlist]

The two of you have only been in the lingerie shop for seven minutes and you already have a black baby doll top with matching panties in your arm and Jess has a fire engine red bra and panty set. One of the crappier parts about growing up is not getting to see friends as often as you did before, or as you’d like to. It’s been far too long since just you and Jess spent time together, so when the idea of shopping for some post-wedding lingerie popped into your head, the perfect partner-in-crime came to mind. 

A rack just past the clearance section catches your eye and you stroll over to pick up a white bustier.

“White? You sure about that?” 

You turn around to see Jess raising an eyebrow at you. “There was nothing virginal about those sounds coming from your room when he stayed over.”

You tuck your lips into your mouth to stifle a pained smile, knowing that she’s right. Your brain is flooded with memories of waking up to Eddie’s head between your thighs, nose nudging at your clit while his tongue fucked into you. Or the nights that started and ended with him deep inside you, fingers gripping your hips like you’d slip away if he didn’t hold on tight. The two of you tried to be quiet–or at least had the intention of doing so–but after a few orgasms, volume control was the least of your concerns.

Unable to refute your friend since you know she’s right, you stick your tongue out at her and bump your hip into hers. A red bra on the clearance shelf is the closest thing to you so you grab it and toss it at Jess’s face.

“Here, have more red, since you’re the devil. Oh no, wait.” A pair of black panties is one shelf lower, so you toss those at her next. “Black to match your soul.”

The brunette laughs and bats the garments away, putting them back where they belong.

“Just let me know if you see anything crotchless because I—”

“Ripped the last pair with Kyle, yes, I know,” you lament. “I don’t need to hear that story again.”

“Spoilsport,” Jess mumbles, turning to stroll down another aisle of slips and robes. “Seems unfair with how much we’ve talked about your sex life.”

“First of all, you ask,” you point out, walking past her and over to a rack of lace corsets. “Second of all, we talk about your sex life plenty. When you were with Paul, or Annie, or Josh. But I’ve heard the Kyle story way too many times.”

The scraping of metal hangers as you look through the corsets isn’t loud enough to drown out Jess’s overdramatic sigh. She reaches behind you and lifts a hanger off with her index finger, presenting you with a white lace teddy.

“Here. Eddie will lose his mind.” She shrugs. “Not that he doesn’t already do that when you’re in anything. Or nothing.”

Heat rises in your cheeks, despite knowing she’s right. You accept the garment from her and look it over—it’s exactly what you were looking for.

“It’s perfect,” you tell her. “Just have to find matching garter and stockings now.”

As you turn your head to scan for the items, a plum-colored chemise catches your eye. 

“Ooh, Jess!” You grab her hand in your free one and tug her in that direction. “This color would look perfect on you.”

You pick it up and hold it against Jess’s lithe body, the reddish-purple complimenting Jess’s brown skin perfectly.

“I do look good in this shade, don’t I?” Jess asks, looking down at herself.

“Any shade, really,” you say. It’s one thing you’ve always been envious of your friend for.

Jess bats her eyelashes at the compliment and takes the chemise from you to look it over again. She shuffles the red bra and panty set she already has in her arms and drapes the chemise over them. Patting the silky material, her head snaps up and she gives you an eager smile.

“Okay, idea,” Jess says. “You go to pick out something for me, I’ll go pick out something for you, then we go try everything on.”

The two of you used to do this back when you were in college with dresses and cute outfits when there was a party or special event coming up. A beloved tradition between best friends.

“Deal,” you agree. “I’ll begin my search as soon as I locate my garter and stockings.”

Both of you are fairly quick in your searches and you meet up in front of the dressing rooms fifteen minutes later. Though, “dressing rooms” may be too generous of a term. In reality, they’re only large booths sectioned off by swaths of dark raspberry velvet curtains. 

Jess hands you a royal blue corset that has thin strips of fabrics laced over a cutout that exposes your belly button, and the matching panties. The color is gorgeous, and the material is surprisingly soft for something that’s meant to crush your ribs. In return, you deliver the classic black romper you have chosen for her. 

First up in the fashion show, Jess tries on her red bra and panties, and you slip into the sheer black baby doll top and panties you’d nabbed as soon as you’d walked into the shop. Once it’s situated on your body to your satisfaction, you push the heavy velvet curtain out of the way and pad into the common area where you’re met by an excited Jess.

“Oh, girl!” she squeals as you do a twirl, flaring out the panels of the top. “That one better be for the honeymoon too.”

With a sigh far too dramatic for the moment, you look down at yourself in the garment. As soon as you put it on all you wanted was to show it off to Eddie. The moment you stepped into the store all you could think about was how Eddie would react to how you would look and what he would do to you while you were wearing some of these pieces. 

“All of them have to wait for the honeymoon?” you pout. “I don’t think I can wait that long.”

“It’s less than a month away.”

“But still.”

“Oh, do what you want,” Jess says, waving a dismissive hand, as if she were dealing with a pouting child. She turns to go back towards her dressing room, but you call out for her to wait and your eyes scan over her in the crimson pieces.

“Jess, if it weren’t illegal, I’d say you should just wear that everywhere,” you say. “Like…wow.”

“Why thank you,” Jess says, dropping into a curtsy that makes you laugh. “Next, try on what we picked for one another.”

You give her a quick salute and the two of you disappear back into your respective booths. A few mumbled curses come from your side of the curtain as you change into the corset, the damn thing harder to get on than it looks. Once you both emerge, your jaw drops as you stare at your friend.

“Jess, please let me pick out everything you wear from here on out. You look hot.”

Jess turns around, looking at herself from all angles in the tailor’s mirror tucked away in the corner.

“Love that it’s not skintight and I’m still sexy as hell.”

“Teach me your ways.”

Slowly, Jess turns to you with raised eyebrows.

“Ma’am.” She grabs your hand and tugs you in front of the intricate golden mirror. “Look at you. Look at these.” She runs her hand, palm up, beneath your boobs, as if presenting them. “You wear this and Eddie isn’t going to let you go until he physically drops.”

You giggle and cover your face with your hands just at the thought. Maybe on this honeymoon you’d see how far you could push Eddie before you wear him out.

Jess smacks your ass and backs up so you can look at yourself on the mirror on your own.

“God really said let’s make the sexiest bitches in the world be best friends,” she says. 

You take a look at yourself in the mirror, spinning to see every angle of yourself. You’re not sure what it is, but you find yourself genuinely admiring how you look. You could probably count on one hand the number of times that’s happened in your life. Whether it’s growing older, having such a supportive best friend, a fiancé who adores you, or a bit of everything in your life, you feel like maybe your happiness is radiating from the inside out.

“I do look good,” you admit to yourself.

“Hell yes,” Jess agrees. 

“Okay, okay,” you say, walking away from the mirror. “Last sets.”

It’s much easier to slip into your last pieces of lingerie so you step out of your dressing room before Jess.

“God, this feels so good against my skin,” Jess says as she comes out of her dressing room. She runs her hands down her body, the silky material cool and flowing like water down to mid-thigh. Her head lifts from admiring her own body and once she gets a look at you in your garments, she lets out a gasp and covers her mouth. Confusion wrinkles your brow, but you really get concerned when you see silver tears lining her eyes.

“What?” you ask, hands feeling all over your body as if you’d find a knife sticking out of you or something equivalent.

“Oh my God,” Jess says, arms dropping. “You…you’re glowing. How? In your wedding lingerie, you’re glowing.”

Even though your body relaxes, your face heats up as a shy smile tugs at the corners of your mouth.

“It feels different than the last two,” you say, adjusting the garter near your right hip.

“In a good way?” Jess asks.

“Yeah. But not like…physically. I don’t know.”

“Look at yourself,” Jess urges, nodding towards the mirror.

You take the few steps over and a small, airy giggle bursts out of you when you see yourself.

“I look like a sexy angel or something,” you say.

“Because you are.” There’s no teasing or biting wit in Jess’s voice; she’s completely sincere and her words are heartfelt.

New emotion bubbles up within you and you turn around to pull your friend into a tight embrace.

“I love you so much,” you say.

“Love you to the moon and back, babe.”

When you walk through the door of your apartment, Eddie hops off the couch and comes over to greet you. Before he can get too close, you put the bags behind your back. Your fiancé gives you a kiss before raising his eyebrows at you.

“Whatcha got?”

“You know exactly what I went shopping for, Mister,” you say, nudging his chest with your shoulder. “And you know you’re not allowed to see. So kindly step aside so I can hide these bags from you.”

Eddie lets out a high-pitched whine but steps to the side. He does follow you as you walk into the bedroom though.

“Did you have fun?” he asks.

“I did,” you say as you shove the bags into the back of your closet. “It was nice to have some girl time. The two of us don’t get to spend as much time together anymore.”

“I’m glad you had a good time.” Eddie leans against the doorway between your shared room and the hallway. When you get your closet door securely closed behind you, you traipse over and slip your arms around his neck.

“Where are the boys?” you ask.

“Nancy and Holly took them to the movies with Natalie and Theo,” he tells you.

“How long ago did they pick them up?”

A smirk grows on Eddie’s face.

“‘Bout twenty minutes ago. Why? You got something in mind?”

“I was just trying on lingerie for an hour and wondering what you’d do to me in it,” you say, trailing your hand down to his chest. You grab the front of his t-shirt, your fingers twisting in the material. Your fiancé’s eyes widen, a grin practically splitting his face in two. A small twitch from beneath his sweatpants immediately draws your attention as his length hardens at your mere touch.

“Yeah, I got something on my mind,” you continue, teeth grazing his neck. “And I think you do, too.”

Before Eddie can even open his mouth, you yank him towards you and walk the two of you back to the bed. 

[emeraldcity1900]

the history of animation in a nutshell

Early 1900s: hey what if comic strips could like move?

Late 1910s early 1920s hey what if we mashed this up with live action people?

late 1920s: hey what if this thing had sound?

Early to mid 1930s: hey what if this had people actually talking and also color?

late 1930s: hey you know that super cool movie that one lady animated with paper cut out silhouettes? What if we did that with painted cells? Would people even pay to see that? Never mind it turns out the answer is yes.

1940s: ah shit most of our animators got drafted and/or hate us now cause we weren’t paying them. IT’S PROPAGANDA TIME BABY. Also haha hitler got hit with a mallet and also the most racist depictions of Japanese people ever.

1950s to 1960s : oh what’s this newfangled thing? Television? What if you could air cartoons on it? Oh fuck no I ain’t paying that much to get the charecters to have different backgrounds and for the charecters to like, move fluidly. Also manga and anime are steadily growing more popular.

1970s: (Ralph Bakshi walks into a comics store and finds a furry comic) X rated animated movie? *cue the screams of mothers and their unsuspecting children now being introduced to the revolutionary idea that cartoons don’t equal kids stuff? WHAT IS THE WORLD COMING TO?

1980s to 1990s: we can have full on animated Broadway musicals? Wait, what do you mean animated movies can count for the Oscar’s? What do you mean now they get their own catagory because the academy still thinks their for babies? Anime and manga are taking off in the west. SWEET JESUS WHAT DRUGS ARE THE JAPANESE ON SHOWING THIS SHIT TO KIDS. But also why is it so fucking good. Maybe some of these aren’t even meant for kids? Wait We can sell toys to kids with cartoons? Wait we can actually put effort into these cartoons on television? The fuck to you mean we can animate in 3D now? What do you mean we can have well animated, well written sitcom shows like the simpsons? What do you mean you can make cartoon charecters say fuck? What drugs are creators at Nickelodeon on? Do I even want to know?

2000s: oh my god, there is this one show that I really like cause it’s really well written and genuinely funny but I can’t talk about it because it’s animated and we all know cartoons are for babies right? Oh look it’s the transformers movie, look how far CGI has evolved so we can make the transformers in a movie.

2010s: holy shit I know these shows are for kids but they’re just well written and have so much meaningful things to say about the world. Wait, it’s cool to like cartoons now? They they have fandoms for this? Fuck yeah I’m in. (Enters one of the most notoriously toxic fandoms of all time) THEY HAVE GAY PEOPLE IN THESE SHOWS NOW? AND COMPLEX EMOTIONAL STORYTELLING? AND ADULT ANIMATED SHOWS CAN BE MORE THAN JUST SITCOMS WITH THE SAME JOKES AND STYLE? WHY IS IT THAT EVERY DISNEY CARTOON SINCE GRAVITY FALLS INCLUDE THINGS THAT GET MORE AND MORE FUCKED UP? WHY DO I FUCKING LOVE IT? WHY THE FUCK DID DISNEY DO THE OWL HOUSE DIRTY LIKE THAT?

2020s: I got this show I wanna pitch but it dosen’t fit into any box that the networks want and also I’m afraid that they’ll just randomly cancel it before I can finish the story I want to tell. Wait, I can just post the pilot on my YouTube channel, see if anybody actually likes this thing I made and just make the show independently? FUCK THE NETWORK! I AM THE NETWORK

[amurih]

Fuck it ima put it out anyway.

COTL AU where instead of staying in the cult Narinder leaves and builds his own little plot of land that becomes a rare occurrence you find while crusading through the different biomes post game.

Like it starts off when the lamb like spares Narinder and he’s like sent to the cult. And is in such a state of shock and bewilderment of what just happened that he doesn’t really know that the lamb is setting up their wedding until he’s at the alter. And he just SNAPS. To trade one prison for another? And to be stuck with the same being that not only took your crown, but your title as the god of death as your jailer? No thank you. Proceeds to walk out while the service is still going.

(I’m not the kind of person to think that he would be murdering or plotting to kill the lamb at every turn or possibly. No I would think that Narinder is smart enough to realize that he cannot fight the lamb in the condition that he is reduced to.)

Anyway, I want Narinder to experience life post-godhood by himself outside the cult. Maybe progressing over time you see how his plot of land develops into a pretty nice home for himself complete with a garden and an actual building/house. Not a hut, but an actual house.

All the while the lamb is going through it. It’s normal game play like one would post Narinder fight. Lore, upgrades, reviving the bishops, mystic seller, etc. All the while experiencing the highs and lows of ascension. I think the lamb would ask the other bishops once they get indoctrinated of how they went through their ascensions went. Only they would tell them that each went through theirs differently, so in the end it wasn’t really helpful.

So going through a process that you have no idea how to get through and the only person who does has fuck off into the land and hates your guts. Really fucking sucks man. So they try to “catch” Narinder while out crusading. Only they don’t find him physically, they find his place of residence while he is away.

I thought of a way to incorporate the quests that Narinder gives you when he is usually established in the cult. Could still be used: like there’s a book left on a table where you could peak in and see what’s going on with the cat that is currently away from his house.

“ I should head to Darkwoods and see if I can find more materials to build that fence and make more paper. Moving materials from one abandon home stead to this place has been challenging enough. My arms hurt after years of being bound to one position for so long...I wonder if camellias still bloom there now that Leshy is gone? If not I’ll have to develop a new alternative for this persistent strain and sharp pains I keep having. Got to get these walls up before it starts raining.”

“Bah! There’s not enough food at the last abandoned settlement let alone seeds. It’ll take long of a walk all the way to smuggler’s cove just to see if that sea louse got any thing. And it hasn’t been that long since the depletion of fish at pilgrim’s passage. I would have just stuck to what vegetables and berries I’ve got growing, but some animal or heratic keeps getting into my garden and stealing my food!when I find the person or thing that is stealing from me I’m going to make them into my fertilizer. In the meantime I should look into Anura and see if those foul mushrooms are still there. If I remember they are just as foul as Hecket when she would screamed about being hungry during dinner…Those should hold me over until I get this unwanted pest under control.”

“The wind and rain coming in through the holes on the side of the house that I use to see if any heretics come to kill me, has gotten too much. I’m tired of having to clean up the puddles of water that enters the home. And the curtains don’t do much in terms of trying to block both of these elements.That stupid squid Kallamar doesn’t need his crystals now that he’s gone. It didn’t help him when trying to hide from me. I’ll go to Anchordeep tomorrow and get some to make crystal windows. They sure would make it more beautiful than their temple…”

“Finally the loom is ready. It’s been a such a long time since I had decent robes. It’s easy to find cotton, but what I really want is a nice, soft, silk robe. One that doesn’t rub against these scars preferably. I miss the old one Shamura they made with their silk. But, that one got destroyed in the fight with that damn vessel. Maybe there is some in Silk Cradle. ”

(I’ll come back to this when I flesh it out more via work time daydreams)

[aliciaasky]

It was love

Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Warnings: Anakin is a senator here, not a Jedi. fluff turning to angst, wrong choices (that’s basically it.)

Summary: Anakin Skywalker, the senator of Tatooine, has to marry. Unfortunately, it happens to be the senator of Aldeeran, not of Naboo. He can never grow to love you, can he?

A/n: this is literally my first post ever and I would appreciate feedback + English isn’t my first language so spread love <3

Anakin was fucking pissed. An arranged marriage? He was the senator of Tatooine not the fucking prince that he needed to be married right now. But his parents thought it was a good idea for him to be married to another senator. The wedding was yesterday, and he had to admit, you were beautiful, breathtakingly so. But he was in love with Padmé, and that since he was 9 years old and saw her for the first time. He instantly knew it was love.

Now he had been married to the senator of Aldeeran for two days, and you were actually pleasant to be around, you were nice and friendly and just over all a ray of sunshine. You tried your best to make the marriage work and he could see that, but his heart yearned for Padmé, it always had. He couldn’t possibly start liking someone else, it would be betrayal, even if the pretty senator of Naboo didn’t even feel the same. His feelings were very much real.

Yet a few months into their marriage, Anakin felt himself starting to warm up a little. You always waited for him at home after he had a long day and he was immediately greeted by a comforted hug and a few kisses on his face

“Oh Ani, long day?“ you had asked, cradling his face lovingly ”it’s okay, I made you lasagna, that’s your favorite right?“ Truthfully, you fell for him, fast and hard. He was already your husband so there was no shame in loving him, right? You had thought he was starting to fall in love too, he always reciprocated your kisses and always stroked your hair when going to sleep.

“Ani?“ you asked gently when laying in bed. „Hm?“ he quietly hummed back, “do you love me?“ you asked with the slightest fear in your voice. There were a few moments of silence

“Of course.“

A few more months later, surprisingly, Padmé, after seeing him getting married, started falling for him too. She wasn’t even trying to hide it. Anakin had yearned for her love for so long, he didn’t even hesitate when she kissed him, and asked him to divorce you. She was a senator after all, so his parents would approve.

He felt bad, truly. But he just couldn’t bring himself to love you, no matter how much and how long he tried. You weren’t the problem, there was nothing wrong with you, it just.. wasn’t there. The feeling he had when he had first seen Padmé on Tatooine all those years ago, it wasn’t there when he was with you. Sure he felt loved and sure he felt warmth, but it just wasn’t the same.

He dreaded the talk with you, you were truly a sweetheart and despite not being in love with you, he still loved you. You were always so attentive, so loving and just so so pure.

“We need to talk.“ Anakin started, looking deep into your eyes. “Ani!“ you beamed, immediately running into his arms, ”how was your day?“

Anakin swallowed hard, looking into her eyes. So full of love. “Look, I love you-“ Anakin started “I love you too!“ you immediately beamed as you interrupted him. “But I’m not in love with you, I’m in love with someone else.“ he finished with a heavy heart. He knew you loved him, but hearing you say that in this right exact moment, made his heart drop.

Your face immediately fell, „what do you mean? Ani, don’t make jokes like that.“ you swallowed, trying to laugh and brush it off like it was just a joke. It was a joke, it had to be a joke, you were so happy together.

“it isn’t you.. it‘s me. I never loved you the way I love her. I tried-“ he swallowed “I really did.“

And you didn’t even have to ask who he was talking about.

You swallowed „so it is me, you can’t love me.“ she sniffles “how could this happen? We were.. we were fine! You can’t joke about something like that!“ you said desperate, your pretty face already filled with tears. Anakin just gently shakes his head, looking at you with pure pity.

”She makes me feel things I’ve never felt before.. I’ve loved her since I was a young boy, she was the whole reason I started being interested in politics. She’s my soulmate I just know it. Please understand.“ Anakin begs you and you just sniffle as you trie to stifle your sobs. You didn’t want him to feel bad, it wasn’t his fault after all.

“I want you to be happy, ani. Even if it’s not with me.“ you sniffle and Anakin tears up. You were so sweet and you deserved so so so much better than him. You hug him tightly and whisper reassurances into his ear. He knew you were heartbroken, but you still tried to make sure he wasn’t feeling too guilty.

And boy were you heartbroken. Your parents were proud of you, for once in your whole entire life. They were pleased that you seemed to hold the marriage, they were proud of you for making it work. What would they say now, especially if they hear the reason?

Especially if they see Anakin’s wedding to Padmé and they will know he divorced you for another woman. But you loved him, and you wanted his happiness.

Seeing him so heartbroken made you want to stay strong for him, made you want to comfort him. Even though you were the one who needed comfort, you were the one being divorced for someone else. Someone who was “just an old friend, baby. Don’t think to much into it.“

You had packed all your stuff with Anakin helping you gently. “I‘m just.. I‘m sorry, I wish it was different. I wish-“ the last words hanging in the air, unspoken.

But you knew what he meant. He wished he could’ve loved you. “Me too.“ your face lighting up at the thought.

He sighed, knowing you‘re dreaming of the "what if" right now, in an alternate universe where things were different.

But things weren't different here, and that was painful. That was reality.

You didn't deserve the pain he was causing you, you deserved to go find someone who would actually love you.

When you finished packing, you stood up “i’ll be going back to Aldeeran.“ you said softly “I have to talk to my parents and figure everything out.“

He gave her a weak smile, he hated the thought of her leaving. But it was for the best. "Okay," he agreed softly, giving you a last look. He didn’t know it, but anyone else could’ve seen it, would’ve seen it. The look of longing in his eyes.

You gently take his hands and place your wedding ring into his hands, then she closes them tightly together and give his hands a light kiss “I won’t ever forget you ani.“ you stroked his cheek, your tears running freely now.

He looked down at your gesture for a moment before meeting your eyes, ”i will never forget you either.“ and he meant it, he didn’t know it yet, but he had meant it.

You gently made your way to the door, looking around, desperately trying to burn every detail of your once shared apartment into your head before leaving.

The sight of you, the one he had married, staring at the apartment, trying to remember every single detail in case you never saw it again, was heartbreaking for him.

He almost regretted it, almost wanted to take it all back...But he couldn't, he'd made his choice. And he couldn’t go back, his love for Padmé overthrowing it all.

When you had reached the door, being completely sure that every detail of your home was etched into your mind, you turned around and opened the door “i love you, i pray you never forget that.“ and with that you close the door behind you, leaving everything behind, including your now ex husband.

He should be celebrating, he had gotten what he wanted, he was free to marry the girl he had always wanted, and he wouldn’t even disappoint his parents! So why did he feel so empty?

A few days later Anakin and Padmé married. It was a grand ceremony, Anakin had previously planned it this huge to show his love for her. To show the appreciation for finally giving him a chance after all this time.

But right now, right in this moment, he can’t feel anything. He heard the preachers words, he knows his words about love were true. But why wasn’t he thinking about Padmé, the one standing in the white wedding dress, right in front of him?

“Love is friendship, Love is warmth and a feeling of comfort. Love is acceptance and understanding. Love is knowing that you will be comfortable with this person for the rest of your life-“ the preacher spoke

He knew it was his turn soon, his turn to say yes to the woman he has dreamt of for years.

„i do!“ Padmé replied whole heartedly

Anakin‘s mind drifted towards you, the woman he had left behind. And now, right now, on his wedding day, when he felt his heavy heart over your departure, when he felt the tears stinging at his eyes over the thought of marrying someone else, when he yearned to run away and take the next ship to Aldeeran,

he knew it.

It was love, and it had been all along.

[sm-baby]

I'm curious what makes you ship Showtime?

Its the idea of them becoming friends, trusting eachother, and having such mutual respect as grown adults, i think...

Just the patience while one tries to understand the other, its complicated and its sweett... They have unique ways to show eachother's how they mean to one another and augghh...

Caine grow to be more tender and Pomni could grow to be more loose, putting up with his antics, and even find them endearing and laughing along. Shes SO aggressively normal while hes wreaking havoc in the background. Caine can go on and on being a chaotic little guy and one peck from Pomni makes him melt, and if not, gives him a mood boost.

Him complimenting her for things she isnt good at, and him making her laugh by hugging her from behind. Pomni initiates touch and Caine blue screens and is careful with his movements like a cat sat on his lap.

I also quite like the idea of two logic minded people being together and being stupid in eachother's presence...Also also... The comedy. And just their vibe. Theyre such fucking idiots sometimes.

Idk.. im basically just describing them who they X)c I don't have a singular answer.

[multydoodles]

What your favorite TWST Character says about you

I won't accept any objection since I'm correct <3

Grim: You have or had a cat.

Ace: Objectively, you're correct. Morally? No.

Deuce: You have no idea what you want to do with your life you might as well start biting.

Epel: You have anger issues and struggle with being taken seriously.

Jack: You struggle to admit when you need help

Sebek: You have no room volume and are very passionate about literally everything

Riddle: You have a bad relationship with a family member

Kalim: You're so depressed it's alarming

Jamil: You want him to grow healthy or burn the world around him.

Floyd: You have no idea what's wrong with him nor do you care 

Jade: You miss Sebastian with your whole heart

Azul: Either you find him endearing or were in the same situation once

Ruggie: How is that constant burnout going for you? 

Silver: You have narcolepsy or love fairy tales

Trey: You have great taste but nobody can fucking see it

Carter: So how is that self-esteem holding up?

Rook: Stop pretending you're not attracted to hoes

Leona: Your sleep schedule is as bad as his

Idia: You never touched grass in your entire life

Vil: You're a lesbian.

Crowley: Daddy issues. Or Dilf enjoyer (he'll never be one)

Crewel: This is the 10th time you've said you got taste- we get it.

Trein: The grumpy aurea captivated you

Sam: Desperate for more content of this man

Vargas: Breaking tin cans with your skull is your passion- or you find him hot.

Rollo: He grew on you like a parasitic leach.

Ch'enya: Cat. Just cat

Neige: WHEN are we gonna get more RSA content in this essay I will-

Gideon: You don't actually care about him.

Fellow: You want to fuck him. That's it

[houseofevanbuckley]

I had some idea that made me sad last night, and I thought well, why not sharing it here

I’ve seen a lot of fics about the 118 giving the shovel talk to Tommy, and I was wondering what if they pushed too hard?

One is alright, especially from the family or the closest friends, but Tommy receives a visit from each and everyone.

And he welcomes it, takes it as part of the dating process, especially dating into the weirdness that can be the 118.

But it still gets to him, and then Hen and Chimney comes as well and that’s what struck him the most.

They knew him, and they knew how he was and they see how he is now, and he starts to worry. Because maybe they don’t mind having him around them, that they know and see his growth and it’s enough for them, but is it enough for their little brother? For the 118’s baby?

And it makes some doubt grow and fester in his mind. What if he isn’t? Would all these people come to him like that if he was good for Buck? If he was enough?

And he likes Buck so much already, so so much. But maybe, maybe their first date was a sign.

Maybe he should let go of that sun, that is Evan Buckley

And he cancels one of their date, and goes to the one after, but he’s distracted, looking at Buck and seeing if he’s really happy to be here. Except maybe his own attitude is having Buck worried as well and he frowns a little, but he still enjoys the date. They still have a good time.

But that fucking doubt, you know? And he cancels the next date. And another one.

He does run to the 118 when Buck is injured. He can’t even imagine staying away, coming in and checking on that sweet sweet man.

But Buck told the others about the 3 canceled dates and maybe Hen or Eddie make a little remark about it which fuel even more his spiraling mind.

They text a lot still, but it’s still a lot less. It’s not that visible at first, going from 100 texts a day to 90, to 80. It’s a lot more visible when it’s halved, though.

Tommy mopping at the 217, refraining himself from going all in like he wants, like he’s been fucking craving since that first date.

And Lucy fucking snaps. She knows how intense the 118 is, how they can sometimes close rank around one of them and maybe close a little too much, so she decides to visit them and have a few words with them.

Buck who sees it, who hears Lucy talking to them, telling them to fucking ease on the peer pressure, on the expectations, to let Buck&Tommy breath and the 118 wincing because yeah, they may have been a bit heavy-handed with the shovel talks.

Buck who knows his family, and knows that yeah it comes from the heart but their intensity can be off the charts so he leaves with Lucy to go to the 217 and have a talk with Tommy who’s still moping and so distraught until Buck comes up behind him and hug him.

And they talk, they talk for hours, about the shovel talks yes, but also about what it brought back, about past Tommy and his doubts. His fucking doubts that he’s going to taint Buck in some ways and the fear that goes with it, the fear of hurting such a sunny guy and how Tommy would rather hurt them both now with a simple break up even if it’d break his heart than risking to change Buck.

And Buck can’t have that, seeing this strong man being so worried, so vulnerable in front of him, and he kisses him to shut him up. Something that he knows Tommy likes to do to him, and now he absolutely sees why when he sees the little daze look on Tommy’s face.

And they talk some more, and more until they finally, finally, hug it out once it’s all out, once the silent tears finally get out of Tommy’s eyes and taking his worries with them.

They end up at Buck’s loft where they spend the night cuddling and talking, both calling off work the next day when they realize that they talked until 5am and neither of them can handle a shift.

They spend the day in bed around each-other.

[dfortrafalgar]

I'm Losing You... (But We're Filling the Cracks)

It's time.

Warnings: read chapter 1 for warnings.

Taglist: @phsycochan | @mirillua | @augustanna | @chaixsherlock | @whore-of-many-hot-men | @nerdisthenewcool | @lilypadmomentum | @1dkneo | @kitsunechan707

Chapter 30

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2:00 AM, May 12th

A sudden jolt ripped you from your relatively peaceful sleep at around 2:00 in the morning.  Your body had been growing somewhat used to the Braxton Hicks contractions that seemed to plague you for a better part of the previous weeks.

This was not Braxton Hicks.

The pain seemed to start in your smile before radiating outward, almost reaching the tips of your toes and the pads of your fingers.  You felt it deep in your core, a painful cramping, almost stretching sensation that made your stomach leap into your throat.

It was happening.

You swung your legs over the side of your bed and grabbed your phone.  You had it planned out.  Law was sleeping at the hospital in a call room.  His surgery was today, at 8:00 AM.  Your knees were shaking, barely holding your weight as another contraction began to pulse through you, making you lean back against your mattress and slowly sink to the ground.  Your water hadn’t broken yet, and you were spotting the day before, but your doctor said that was normal.

You fucking hoped she was right.

[Ugh… hello?]

Your voice barely reached the phone you held to your ear.  “Sh-Shachi… it’s happening.”

A sudden rustling and a pained-sounding grunt resonated through the speaker and the line went dead.  You crawled across the floor to where your hospital bag was stored, your hand just barely reached one of the straps when another cramp ripped through your abdomen, making you squeak out a pained whimper.

You heard your apartment door burst open, probably startling your neighbors, and frantic footsteps ran across your home and to your room.  The light in your bedroom flicked on, momentarily blinding you, and Shachi stood panting in the doorway.

“Penguin, I need some help over here!” he shouted, approaching you and taking one of your arms.

The second man sprinted into the room, helping Shachi haul you to your feet.  With Penguin’s arms still supporting you upright, Shachi grabbed your heavy hospital bag and began a mad dash toward your door.  

“I’m going to stay here with Bepo, alright?” Penguin muttered, sleep still heavy on his tongue as he helped you into the hallway and into the elevator.  

You were wearing a ratty pair of house slippers and your usual pajamas, but you barely had time to think about your appearance when you could feel your stomach contracting with each movement.  You had no idea what giving birth was like, but you were progressing fast.  The only thing you could respond with was a weak nod, clenching your teeth.  The walk from the ground floor to Shachi’s car in the front parking lot was a blur for you, the only thought in your mind being the immense pressure in your swollen belly.  It was only going to get worse before it got better, and the thought made your palms more sweaty than they already were.

You were helped into the passenger seat of Shachi’s beat-up car, barely having time to register your anxieties about this hunk of metal taking you to the emergency room in the dead of night.  Your hands involuntarily wrapped around your belly, trying in vain to soothe the pain that continued to throb within you.  

“Good luck!” Penguin called as Shachi closed your door and sprinted to the other side of his car, almost throwing himself over the hood.  The car rattled to life as he twisted the key in the ignition.  He carefully maneuvered through the dark parking lot, out onto the main road, and you were off.

—

5:00 AM, May 12th

Law’s circulating nurse was holding a walkie talkie.  It wasn’t often those were found in the operating prep room.  The team was pensively getting ready, donning their gowns, following their glove procedures, and securing their masks and face shields when the static-filled sound of the receiver flooded the room.

[The helicopter is landing.]

The patient was in the prep room, still completely intubated, barely clinging to life.  This operation was his and his family’s last hope at a somewhat normal life, free from tubes.  Law closed his eyes and shuddered a deep breath in, then out, before placing his own mask on his face.  A few hours ago in the stuffy call room he slept in, he was forced awake by a night terror of the mother whose son had passed away almost a year ago.  Her screams still bounced around his head like a bell chime, loud, obnoxious, and utterly petrifying.

He thought about you sleeping at home.

“Have I received any calls?”  He turned his attention toward his circulating nurse who had placed the walkie talkie down, another nurse helping him into his second pair of sterile rubber gloves.

She pulled his phone out of her pocket.  Nothing.  The only notification on his home screen was a text from the day before from you reading, ‘Good luck baby!!!  I love you!!!!’  She shook her head, placing his phone in her back pocket.

“Don’t be surprised if we receive any calls during the operation, my wife is supposed to be giving birth in a week or so.  It’s all hands on deck at home, but this operation is our top priority right now.”  Law flexed his fingers under his gloves as he watched his staff bustle around the prep room, preparing all their instruments and materials before retreating into the primary OR to receive the patient from pre-op.

“Got it,” she replied, her voice low and patient.

Law hated that his priority wasn’t with you when you needed him around most.  But in the face of the most important operation of his life, there wasn’t much he could do.

—

6:09 AM, May 12th

Shachi wasn’t allowed into the delivery room with you due to not being family.  The only one who would be allowed was Law, and clearly, he wasn’t going to be available in quite a while.  Shachi had tried to call him throughout your triage check-in, but his phone had gone straight to voicemail.  No surprise to you, a man was getting his entire chest cavity replaced across the hospital.

Still… you missed him.  A lot.  It was certainly a bizarre feeling knowing that he was technically in the same building as you, but across the expansive hospital campus and a few floors down.

Your loneliness was far more palpable in your delivery room, however.  The entire space seemed bland and boring, and you were already hooked up to more tubes than you were pleased with, which is to say, four tubes too many.  You had a hose in your nose for extra oxygen, an IV drip in your arm, and two electrode patches on your chest monitoring your heart rate.

Your contractions had lessened somewhat in the time it took for you to arrive at the hospital, and according to the on-board delivery doctor who greeted you in the room, you weren’t even dilated.  You still had a long way to go.  You had barely eaten the breakfast that was brought to you, the buttered biscuit looked far too gray for a piece of bread, and you were effectively running off of bland applesauce and a small dosage of pain meds.  They couldn’t give you any more until your active labor started, where you could then opt for an epidural.

But you saw that needle.  You were even starting to question that.

The few contractions you felt throughout the morning were intense enough, and you were barely mustering up the courage to prepare yourself for what was surely to come later in the day.  You were still holding out hope that your labor would progress naturally and that there would be no need for an emergency C-section, or any sort of emergency procedure at all.

Your body now had one job.  It had failed all the others, but now that you finally had a successful pregnancy, there was only one job left to do.

Your dazed staring at the ceiling was interrupted when the doctor who admitted you re-entered your room.  She had a calm smile on her face, slight bags under her eyes that displayed more of a long career in delivering babies than acute exhaustion, and the sight of her soft smile lines around her mouth immediately filled you with a sense of calm you had yet to feel all morning.

“Mrs. Trafalgar, how are you doing?” she asked politely, pulling up a chair and sitting by your bedside.  One of her hands rested on yours, a gentle pat for reassurance.  “I reviewed your patient history.  I see your husband is the leading cardiothoracic surgeon with our hospital!”

The fact that she immediately jumped to singing your husband’s praises instead of rapidly addressing the two elephants in your patient charts that read ‘Spontaneous Abortions at 7 and 12 weeks’ brought a smile to your face.  “He is.  I’m sure you’ve already heard the news going on down there.”

She rubbed your hand again.  It was then that you noticed she had her own wedding ring on her left hand.  She looked like the kind of woman to have a sweet partner.  “Indeed I did, it’s been the talk of the staff for months.  Our hospital’s first, and probably only, dual cardiopulmonary transplant.  Frankly, it’s an honor that your husband was chosen to perform the operation, there is no one better qualified than him.”

You picked your head up from the pillow that was supporting your neck.  The bed you were laying in was tiled up so you were more sitting rather than stretched out.  “Have you personally met him?” you asked, your eyes lighting up.

She nodded.  “When he first got the position of lead surgeon, he was made to do a speech in front of the hospital staff to recognize his achievements.”

You remembered that day.  While you couldn’t attend due to your work schedule, he had spent the two weeks prior agonizing over what he was going to say.  He hated public speaking and everything involving it, so having to write a small speech was his worst nightmare.  You weren’t even married yet.  His reward for a successful conference was a steamy night in the bedroom with you, and as far as you knew, he did well enough that he came home and was immediately ripping his clothes off.

The doctor’s voice rattled you out of your daydream.  “It is a shame that he can’t be here right now,” she sighed.  “Hopefully your labor progresses slowly enough that he can be here for the actual birth.”

“I hope he’ll be here when they actually arrive,” you groaned.  “He’ll never let himself get over it if he misses it.”

“And it would be unfortunate for you, too, dear.  Don’t forget about you.”  Another hand pat.

You grinned.  She was right.  Your husband might have been one of the country’s most accomplished surgeons and was currently about to undertake the most daunting procedure of his life, but right now, you were the one preparing to birth two babies.

—

8:43 AM, May 12th

Law gazed down through his face shield at the exposed chest cavity of the man under the sheet on the operating table.  Multiple metal frames were holding his ribs open, his sternum sawed in half to expose the fragile, failing organs underneath.  His heart somehow was displaying visible wear, almost like a machine in a factory would begin to rust.  But both of his lungs were riddled with odd growths and morbid discoloration.

“Was it noted in his patient history that he has COPD?” Law asked, his voice displaying confusion rather than horror.  The poor guy was already getting two new lungs, it’s not like that would change.

“I’m not sure it did, Doc,” one of the nurses across the room maintaining the organ cart replied.  “Does he?”

The head anesthesiologist peered around his machines toward the open chest cavity.  “Yeesh.”

“Okay, professionalism, people.  Thank you for answering my question,” Law barked sternly, bringing his team back into strict focus.

The sound of the organ cart was filling the room with a foreign atmosphere.  It wasn’t like organ transplants on their own were very common in their hospital, but to have the giant artificial box pretending to be a human body supplying a constant stream of donor blood and oxygen to a detached heart and lung trifecta was quite a shocking sight for most of the nurses.  The heart itself was fully exposed, hoses connected to every valve.  It was beating morbidly with each pass of blood, circulating a non-living machine.  Some drops of blood from the exterior of the tissue trickled down the wet organ and collected in a small puddle at the bottom of the tray it was held on.  Some of the team could barely even look at it.

The heart had to be transplanted first, due to the way he was cut open.  They could replace the heart from the front, where his ribs were separated, but his lungs would have to be removed from the sides of his body, under the arms.  The scar tissue on the man was going to be quite the sight in a few months.  

The team was only about 45 minutes into this procedure.

Law’s shoulders were already sore.

—

10:00 AM, May 12th

Your phone was blowing up.

You had texted Ikkaku that you were admitted to the hospital and that your labor had begun, but was progressing slowly.  You didn’t think she’d be able to keep it to herself, but the sheer speed in which she had informed your other close friends was almost dizzying.  After only about 2 minutes, your phone began chiming with a near constant influx of messages from your friends and coworkers, all wishing you the best of luck with your delivery.

It was a weekday, afterall.  Ikkaku probably sprung up from her chair and sprinted around the office like the boy who cried wolf.

When the doctor said your labor would be progressing slowly, she meant it.  And you were already tired of it.  Two in the morning was already far too early for the human body to be functioning, and you weren’t able to get a lick of sleep in the hospital bed you occupied.  Each time your eyes fluttered closed, another contraction would ripple through your body and remind you of exactly where you were.

It had now been about eight hours since you were admitted.

Your cervix was 1 centimeter dilated, and your water had yet to break.

Nurses were constantly in and out checking on you and your condition, but conversation was rarely exchanged.  Instead, most of your time was spent in silence, staring at the bland burgundy walls of the delivery room, the machines you were hooked up to to supply you with fluids and oxygen, and the door to the rest of the maternity ward.

The door you wished would open to reveal your excited husband running to be by your side.

“How are you doing, dear?”  Your doctor popped her head in once more.  She entered the room fully and pulled on a fresh pair of gloves.

“Hanging in there,” you replied.  You were embarrassed with how dejected you sounded.  You didn’t intend to seem so… lonely.

The doctor positioned herself at the foot of her bed and gestured for you to maneuver your legs into the cold metal stirrups that connected at the end. The stirrups hurt your back enough as it was, and the weight of two babies against your spine did little to help, but you bared through it.

“You’re at about 3 centimeters now, you’re progressing very well!” she called, removing her head from between your legs.  “In another few hours, you’ll almost be ready to go!”

Your heart panged with excitement at finally giving birth, but also extreme desperation.

Your contractions were progressively getting closer and closer together.

You wanted Law.

—

11:51 AM, May 12th

Law’s phone rang from the back pocket of the circulating nurse’s scrubs.  The entire team let it go to voicemail.  A human heart was being removed from an open chest cavity, clutched like a sacred, scarred treasure in the blood soaked hands of one of the surgical assistants, while the man was fully hooked up to the quadruple bypass machine.  He now had a mechanical assistant serving as his heart and lungs while they retrieved the new ones.  There was no time or energy to be spent on a phone call.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t be bringing your phone in for this operation, doc,” one of the nurses said.  Law could hear the sarcastic grin from under the surgical mask.

“I thought about it, but I’d worry too much,” Law grumbled back, wiping his gloved hands on a sterile towel.

“You’re such a good husband,” the assistant anesthesiologist cooed from across the room.  “I hope my husband is as attentive as you are one day.”

Law felt blood rush to his face.  He kept his mouth shut while the organ box was wheeled over to the bedside.

—

12:10 PM, May 12th

[Hey, have you heard from Law at all?  How are you doing?]

Shachi’s voice over the speaker of your cell phone was able to clear your mind somewhat.  Your contractions were still even and decently spaced out, but you were growing more and more aware of every sudden shift in your body as the seconds ticked by.  “No, and I probably won’t hear from him at all until tonight.  The operation started only four hours ago, they probably haven’t even gotten to the lungs yet.”

[And you?  How are you holding up?]  The redhead reiterated his second question.

“I’m holding,” you muttered back.  “Doctor said I’m still about 3 centimeters dilated, so it’ll still be a while before I actually start, you know, giving birth.”

[What does that mean?  3 centimeters dilated.]

“That’s how large the opening of my cervix is,” you clarified.

A long pause over the phone’s speaker followed.  [What’s a cervix?]

You paused.  “It’s… the entrance to the birth canal?”

Another pause.

“Shachi… you know where babies come from, right?” you asked, your contractions suddenly the least of your worries.

[I do!]  His voice was defensive.  [When a man loves a woman and all that shit.  But what does a cervix have to do with any of that?]

“Have you…” your voice trailed off.  “Have you and Penguin made out yet?”

[Oh, yeah.  We made out, like, two nights ago.  Why?]

You considered your questions answered.

—

1:00 PM, May 12th

The entire room was silent as Law worked, his deft, experienced fingers expertly sewing up even the smallest of blood vessels in the donor heart.  It had been about five hours now since the start of the procedure, and everything was progressing as planned.  Even faster, at that, much to Law’s delight.  The entire team was working as one fluid unit, just as discussed for the months leading up.  When the front of the man’s chest cavity was repaired, however, was when the trickiest part of the procedure would begin.  The patient remained attached to the bypass machine as Law finished the final stitches on the aorta.  It would still be a little longer before he could be fully removed.

The man was filled with tubes.  Down his throat, down his stomach, in his chest, in his arms.  It was an incredibly uncomfortable sight.

The assistants worked in tandem to close up the chest cavity, securing all of the muscle, bone, and erroneous tissue back into place.  It was like putting together a very convoluted and high-risk jigsaw puzzle.

Now the lungs were next.

His phone rang again from the back pocket of the circulating nurse’s scrubs.  Due to the small down time, she reached in and pulled it out, assessing the screen.

“It’s your friend, doctor,” she called.

“Text him to just tell you what’s up,” he asked back.  His mind had become so focused on the operation that he barely had room to think about anything else.

Hi, this is Dr. Trafalgar’s circulating nurse!  Is everything alright?

The three little dots indicating an incoming response appeared, then disappeared, then appeared, then disappeared again.  After what felt like an eternity, an answer finally came up.  A confusing one, at that.

Orca

Uhhhh idk how to relay this properly cus idrk whats happening, but tell him his wife is 3 centimeters dilated???

Oh god.

“Uhm…” she nervously called.

“What is it?” the stone-faced surgeon asked, his back to her as he assessed the organ transplant box that still contained two human lungs.

“Your wife is 3 centimeters dilated?”

You could’ve heard a pin drop.

—

1:15 PM, May 12th

[So I got handed over to that circulating nurse.  She said she’d tell him but she obviously couldn’t do much more.]

Shachi had called you back after hanging up the first time, just to inform you that he had finally gotten through to Law, or at least, Law’s cell phone.

You sighed in relief.  That was the most you could ask for.  You were just happy that he’d be able to know.  “Thank you, Shachi.  You’re not still at the hospital, are you?”

[Nah, I’m getting ice cream.  It’s hot as shit out.]

Lucky bastard.

—

2:30 PM, May 12th

Law had two sides.  Analytical and focused, and the Protective Husband.

In the operating theater, those two sides were in a western-style duel against one another.

In front of him was a near-comatose man with the left side of his ribs cut open, a withered, diseased lung slowly being removed from his body.  And on the complete opposite side of campus, two stories above him, you had begun labor.

And he wasn’t there.

“Doctor, I thought you said another week or so,” one of the female nurses asked, her voice both curious and concerned.

“That’s what I assumed,” he replied, his tone a bit snippy.  No one could blame the poor guy.  He was having babies.

“How far along is she, again?” another voice asked.

“35 weeks,” he replied, delicately slicing through a patch of diseased lung tissue.

“It’s premature?!  Oh goodness–”  One of the nurses began to freak out over the implication, but another colleague was quick to calm her down.

“With twins!  They’re having twins, it’s alright,” the other nurse explained.  “With twins, it’s far more common to be delivered somewhat prematurely.  If the rest of the pregnancy was healthy, there’s no need to be alarmed.”

Law was inwardly thankful from his colleague’s explanation.  If anything, she unintentionally lessened the tension in the theater by ten orders of magnitude, making it far easier for him to focus.  

The harder he focused, the quicker this procedure got done.  And the quicker he got done, the quicker he could run to your side.

—

4:00 PM, May 12th

It had been about 14 hours since your labor officially began, and you barely had a lick of sleep.  The hospital lunch had not been much better than the hospital breakfast, and now you were dreading the hospital dinner.

It didn’t help that your contractions were now substantially closer together, and your cervix was now 6 centimeters dilated.

Law was now in surgery for about eight hours.

One of the evening shift nurses was in the room with you.  She looked about your age.

You turned your attention toward her as she fixed another fluid drip onto your IV pole.  “How long do you think a heart and lung transplant should take?” you blurted.

Your question clearly caught her off-guard.  “Oh gosh, I mean… a single heart transplant is, like, six hours, right?  Give or take?”

Your head flopped down onto your pillow.  He was nowhere near close to being done.

—

5:30 PM, May 12th

The topic of relieving Law with another surgeon mid-operation was now floating around the theater.  Despite being adamant that he refused to leave in the middle of a procedure, his fellow colleagues were determined to let him go.  Maybe it was just the exhaustion getting to everyone.  They had just now removed the left lung and were preparing its transplant for insertion, and they still had one more organ to go.  He couldn’t leave.

“We’ll get this done a lot quicker if we all focus,” the surgeon demanded, insisting his staff return to their focused attitudes.

It was clear that everyone, despite performing their duties well and maintaining a smooth workflow, wanted Law to go see his wife.

One of the anesthesiologists was a mother to three, and was now being drilled with questions.

“How quickly did you dilate with your first?” one of the nurses asked.

It took a few moments for her to think about it.  “I think I was in active labor for about 24 hours in total,” she replied.  “It was loooong.  But, I was also only carrying one, and I was 41 weeks pregnant, so he was quite big!  I would imagine a 35 week twin birth might progress a bit quicker, since the babies aren’t quite as big as that.”

Great.  Just what Law needed to hear.

His worst nightmare was flashing through his mind as he began to suture the transplant lung.  You in crippling agony, screaming and crying with no support from the doctors or nurses, forced to give birth alone.  What if you hemorrhage in the middle of delivery?  What if the babies weren’t positioned properly?  What if you passed out or suffered spontaneous cardiac arrest?  What if one of the babies died during delivery?  What if they both died?  What if all of you died?

The assistant standing next to Law watched in awe as the surgeon, who clearly wasn’t thinking about the surgery, sutured arteries together with robotic precision.

—

7:05 PM, May 12th

You were quickly losing track of time.

8 centimeters dilated.  The doctor told you that your body would know when you needed to push.  And now, almost all the way there, with your room now flooded with staff preparing for your birth, you felt the need to push.

[dehydrated-turtle]

//warnings// 16+, nsfw, mdni

//contents// transmasc reader, jason todd, semi-public

//synopsis// Jason can't handle it when you sent him photos, no matter what they are. - wc: 662

//full fic on ao3// wc: 1.7k

Jason absolutely loves it when you send him pictures of yourself. It does not matter what he was doing before, he will drop everything he’s doing to look at what you sent him. 

This time, he’s sitting on a rooftop, waiting for something to happen on his patrol. It seems like a slow night tonight anyway so he pops a squat on a ledge of a random apartment building. He takes off his helmet revealing his secondary mask just so he could breathe better. Not that the smell of Gotham was any better than his own breath. He took out his phone and started scrolling out of boredom before a notification came up. A single photo from you. How enticing. 

He opens the message, jaw almost hitting the floor in awe. It’s just a simple gym pic but holy shit. Your sweating frame in a loose grey tank and black gym shorts, nothing special but to him it’s everything. He could see your scars ever so slightly through the tank, it’s driving him wild that he can’t touch them, touch you. 

His phone buzzes again, another pic. This time it’s more sensuous, a mirror pic with you in the bathroom of the gym change room with only a towel around your waist. Water droplets racing down your bare chest and the glass a little bit steamed. He feels his length start to grow just from your semi-scandalous photos. 

He quickly glances around to see if anyone would be able to see him, quiet night after all. He starts to unbuckle his cargo pants and reach into them to pull out his half hard cock. He started to pump lazily as he searched the pic of you for the little details about you that would push his climax to come sooner. 

He was rudely interrupted by another notification, yet another pic. It seems like you had just gotten home because you were in bed now wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. Jason just couldn’t handle it, the sight was too much. Your perfect body just laying there, begging him to ruin it. Beseeching him to rip the boxers off your supple ass. He lets out a small and breathy moan as his dick jerks in his fist and lets out streams of cum, falling onto his chest and stomach. 

“Fuck… now lookit whacha did.” He remarks, hurriedly trying to wipe the cum off of his kevlar suit, picking it out of the grooves. Even though he’s mad that he’s going to be picking bits of cum out for weeks, he still smiles knowing that all you had to do is send a pic and he's on his knees for you. 

He picked himself up while checking the time. Seeing his shift is over, he hops onto his motorcycle and rushes home to you, hopefully still in those boxers that he so desperately wants to rip off of you himself. 

Walking through the door with immaculate struggle due to the amount of excitement, he calls out for you to make sure you’re home. 

“Upstairs, Jay!” you say from upstairs, obviously. He runs up the stairs, skipping every second step just to get to you sooner. He discards his jacket on the floor near the bedroom door as he shuts it. He turns around to see you still in just the boxers from the picture. You’re on your phone but looking up at him with a smile. “Hey.” you whisper. 

“Hey.” he whispers back, walking to you, removing his gear and just leaving it all on the floor. He was left with only his cargo pants before he leaned down to kiss you. “You have no idea what you did to me, sending those pics, pretty boy.” 

“Why don’t you tell me?” 

“You really wanna know how I came all over my suit on a rooftop, mid-Gotham?” 

“I had no idea.” you say with a smirk, knowing exactly just what you do to him.

[ladykailitha]

Well Met By Moonlight Part 13

Hey, guys do you all remember that period of time when I was working on this story but refused to show you snippets of it on WIP Wednesdays? Yeah, this is that chapter. (I'm pretty sure, anyway. Because this shit was super spoilery.)

We finally get what happened to Steve and why he didn't grow up as Pack. This chapter does get a little dark in its themes so be careful when you read and if you need specifics, DM me and I'll fill you in.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

****

Eddie and Wayne landed in front of their trailer with a deft touch. Eddie still wasn’t over the joy of being able to fucking fly. Like sure when he was younger, Wayne would take him for flights occasionally, but nothing beat banking on a breeze as the wind lifted him higher and higher.

“Your boy’s got a mouth on him,” Wayne said gruffly as he walked up the stairs to their trailer.

Eddie chuckled. “Always had. Even in school.”

Wayne huffed out a laugh. “True enough.”

As soon as they were safe inside, Eddie asked, “Hey, do you remember that couple who took Stevie in when his parents died?”

Wayne frowned. “You mean the Franklins?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

Eddie snapped his fingers. “Yeah, them. Why was Steve placed with them? And not, I don’t know, the pack?”

“Ah.”

Wayne went to the kitchen and pulled out a six pack of beers. “That’s a bit of story. Drink up, you’ll need it for this.”

Eddie opened up a can of beer and settled in for story time.

Wayne downed an entire beer and wiped his mouth off with his sleeve.

“Hopper had gotten bad,” Wayne began. “Like real bad.”

“You’ve mentioned that before. That was around the time I came to live with you, right?”

Wayne nodded. “It wasn’t just drinking. It was drugs, too. And not just weed, either. I’m talking the heavy stuff.”

Eddie nodded. He had sold said heavy stuff to Hopper just before he cleaned up with El coming into his life. When Wayne asked him why, Eddie told him that he had no idea what he was doing with it and honestly didn’t care.

Knowing what Eddie did now, he regretted it, but he was so close to being able to afford his Warlock that that was all he cared about at the time.

“Steve’s dad Clint Harrington was getting ready to challenge Hopper for the position of alpha,” Wayne continued. “He knew that he might kill Hopper, but at that point it probably would have been a mercy.”

Eddie nodded solemnly. Maybe if Clint Harrington had lived, lived to be the alpha, the town wouldn’t be experiencing the troubles it was now.

“So what happened?” he asked gravely.

“Allison’s father died out in New York,” Wayne said. “The timing of it was so suspect, Ed. Like, you know I hate conspiracies with every fiber of my being, because there rarely is one. But this smelled rank from the get go.”

“You think whoever had the Harringtons killed,” Eddie said, “you think also popped off Granpappy, too, don’t you?”

Wayne glared at him, but conceded the point. “Whatever happened to the Harringtons was bad, boy. Like their bodies were savaged–”

He stopped and his eyes went wide. “It was exactly like this morning. I couldn’t tell the scent then, just like I couldn’t now.”

Eddie nodded. “As near as I could tell, there wasn’t a scent to be had. Whatever it was who killed the Harringtons and attacked Patrick, didn’t leave behind a scent.”

“There are very few things in this world that leave a scent so minuscule I could barely detect it,” Wayne said.

Eddie nodded. “So what happened with Steve after they died?” He was interested in the other thing, but he was really worried about his boyfriend.

“The old mayor, Larry Kline and I,” Wayne said amused, “made the decision that the pack wasn’t safe for Steve. But despite what Steve thinks the Franklins weren’t human.”

Eddie frowned. “They weren’t?”

“They were Were too,” he said with wary tilt of his head. “Were-bat. We figured that with them being at least Weres would be able to teach him how to shift and how to shift back comfortably.”

“So what went wrong?” Eddie asked, moving closer to Wayne on the sofa. “Because holy hell, pops, if Steve had been human CPS would have been called and fast.”

Wayne drank more of his beer and then rubbed one eye with the other hand. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t. There were no indications that Steve was anything other than a kid who’s parents died and was adjusting to it. Yeah, he wasn’t exactly happy, but we didn’t expect him to be, you know?”

“So what changed?”

Wayne drank the last of his beer and set it on the coffee table. “They were away on a trip and I don’t know if they forgot, didn’t care, or planned it... but Steve wolfed out for the first in his entire life when he was eighteen.”

“What?!”

Weres were supposed to shift for the first time when they hit puberty. Early teens for most of them. But to not shift until you were eighteen was just begging for the Were to go insane.

“Fucking hell, Uncle Wayne,” Eddie groaned. “Whoever this is is playing a long ass game. Jesus Christ. They were hoping he would go crazy, ending the Harrington line for good. So what happened?”

Wayne licked his lips. “Steve ran to me. He was frightened. Terrified out of his mind. Old Mack nearly shot the poor bastard as he came tearing through the trailer park.”

“Jesus H. Christ...” Eddie whispered.

Wayne chuckled. “It wouldn’ve done shit, it was just a regular bullet, it wouldn’ve even slowed him down.”

Eddie breathed a sigh of relief. “So what stayed Mack’s hand then?”

“You’ve seen your boy in wolf form,” Wayne said, “can you imagine how beautiful he looked then? The cream of his under belly blending with the warm brown of his back and face as he tore down the gravel pavement?”

Eddie could imagine it in fact. Steve was gorgeous as a human, but as a werewolf? He was exquisite. It came from his mixed breeding of being born from another born werewolf and his turned wife. Born werewolves tended to be more timber wolf in their appearance. Almost dire wolf-esque. Big, with course fur and fierce. Bitten werewolves tended toward the smaller red wolves. Quick, slender, and cunning as hell.

Steve was a mix of these two breeds and it made him the most beautiful thing on four legs Eddie have ever scene.

“To fire at something so majestic would have been a travesty,” Wayne was saying when Eddie came back from his revery. “So Mack just stood there, rifle in hand as Steve made straight for my door.”

Eddie frowned. “Where was I? I don’t remember this.”

“You and your friends had gone to Indy for some concert or another,” Wayne said. “I don’t rightly recall.”

Eddie’s frown got deeper, he’d only gone to one concert with his friends in Indy because one of the ‘85 Hellfire Club members had gotten tickets for graduation and had taken all of them.

“Is that why you weren’t home when I got back into Hawkins?” he asked. “You were dealing with Steve?”

Wayne nodded and popped open another bottle of beer. He held one up to Eddie, but he shook his head. Eddie held up his still mostly full can. Wayne licked his lips.

“You’ll want to drink more of that,” he muttered.

Eddie did as he was told and it took the edge off of his anxiety but settled sour in his stomach.

“After I got Steve sedated,” Wayne said, “and yes it was fucked up I even had to in the first place, I went a paid the Franklins a visit.”

“That sounds ominous,” Eddie said flatly.

Wayne grinned. “They tried to tell me that they were frightened of Steve. That as a wolf he was much bigger than they were as bats. That all it would take was one snap of his giant jaw and they would be but a morsel to the boy.”

Eddie blinked at his uncle in confusion. “What now? His first change would have been a literal puppy. He wouldn’t have even been able toddle after them, let alone get within biting distance.”

Wayne huffed. “Right in one, boy. And if they had been teaching him from his first change on, he wouldn’t have thought of them as prey at all. Not even on moon nights.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“And then they tried to attack me,” Wayne continued.

“They did what?” Eddie squawked.

“They probably would have succeeded, too,” he said, “but apparently Steve is a hard wolf to keep down and followed me like a lost puppy. When he saw Dick Franklin raise a fucking yew stake to stab me in the back, Steve leapt on him.”

“Where the fuck did they get a yew stake?”

Wayne just shook his head. “The hell if I know, kid. But in comes this wolf and just snatches the damn thing out of Dick’s hand. He runs off with it Ella Franklin hot on his heels in bat form. Bats are fast and she catches up quickly. The problem is that in or out of bat form she knows she no match for Steve, so she tries to blind him by going for his eyes.”

Eddie’s hand covered his mouth as he listened to him go on about this horrible night.

“But despite what a lot of people think,” Wayne continued, “your boy ain’t dumb. He keeps his head down and makes right for the Creel House. He tosses the thrall on duty the stake and suddenly a werebat is face to face with Tammy Thompson, now holding a yew stake as Steve just continues running past the Coven.”

Eddie blinked. “I didn’t realize that Tammy’s family were thralls.”

“Just like the Perkins, Buckleys, and Hagans are hereditary keepers,” Wayne said with a nod, “the Thompsons, Carmichaels, and Bensons have always been hereditary thralls.”

Eddie was starting to think that he really should have paid closer attention to the hierarchies in school, they were a lot more important than he knew.

“Anywho,” Wayne said with a shake of his head. “Ella flies back to their house to find me beating the hell out of Dick. She manages to distract me long enough for Dick to get on his feet, but now it’s two against one and they’re still strong in their human forms, but wicked fast. I was able to take out Dick, the coward that he was, but Ella was proving to be too fast. She was going to get away.”

Eddie drank the rest of his beer and popped open another one. He leaned forward so that he was on the edge of the sofa, and his knee began to shake.

Wayne put his hand his knee to settle it, but Eddie stared at him wild eyed.

“I don’t have to finish if this bothering, Ed,” he said warmly. “I can give you the Cliffnotes.”

Eddie shook his head. “What happened next?”

“Just as she took flight, the thing they had always feared happened,” he said softly. “Steve’s jaws came down on her with a sickening crunch. Dick started spewing all sorts of curse words and things I didn’t understand. Something about how werewolves were a plague among the Weres and that they had to be exterminated and how if Steve hadn’t had my protection they would have drowned the bastard in the bathtub.”

“What. The. Fuck?” Eddie asked, can crumpling in his fist as it tightened on it.

“It didn’t mean anything until the events going on now,” Wayne said with a heavy sigh. He crumpled his can one handed and stared at the twisted mass. “But I think whoever it is who is trying to tear this community apart is getting desperate. They’re starting to make mistakes. And I think one day soon, this is all going to blow up in our faces.”

Eddie gulped, but nodded.

****

Tag List:

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie

@chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666

@goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

@justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

@useless-nb-bisexual @angels-of-hades @mugloversonly @y4r3luv @greeniebean911

@birbsauce @acingthecounts @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars @kultiras

[newtonsheffield]

They’d shared a two minute conversation during which she’d managed to call him stupid a number of different times in an exciting variety of ways. And still, he’d found himself sat behind the typewriter (...) as he wrote about anything. But kindly it wasn’t about anything. Mostly it was about her, in some way or another. Or rather, the feeling of her.

THIS. This is so in line with the canon. I immediately thought of the scene during the conservatory ball. Kate gives her monologue, tearing Anthony to pieces and he is completely smitten with her from the get-go.

I bet he still has the initial pages written way back then. Maybe they even made it to Snow Filled Paper? But the originals are surely hidden in his desk: yellowed, crumpled and tattered, since Anthony has been rereading them all over again.

A version of some of them are in Snow Filled Paper but most of them are tucked away in Anthony’s desk drawer, folded and unfolded and tearing at the edges.

Anthony takes them out and reads them from time to time and Kate has no idea they even exist until they’re nearly two months into their relationship and she’s looking for something else in his desk. She finds them in an old tin from the Jane Austen Museum and it makes her chuckle as she opens it. It’s such an Anthony thing to own, and she can’t resist knowing what’s inside.

There’s a lot of things in there from there uni days actually, there’s a coaster with the mark of a beer bottle from the pub they used to go to with their friends and there’s a daisy chain that’s been pressed into a notebook that has Anthony’s thoughts in. She chuckled as she read

Grow moustache? Might look cultured and distinguished? Set me apart from D.

Her brow furrowed as she looked at the D printed there, trying to remember who that might have been. She moved on, unfolding one of the sheets of paper at the back and her heart stuttered in her chest.

It was about her, she was sure it was. She remembered the day he’d written about, when they’d met in the library to work on their assignment and her breath caught at the way he described it.

“Are you snooping?”

She dropped the paper in surprise looking up to see Anthony leaking against the doorway, sipping a cup of tea.

“Maybe a little?”

She held up the pages, “Did you really feel this way about me?”

Anthony groaned, leaning against the edge of the desk, “please don’t read that. I was still finding my style.”

“I like it.” She said gently, pressing her lips to his. “It’s very sweet.”

“I… Please don’t read too far. I think in that one I used the phrase Aphrodite would be a poor muse compared with her.”

Kate bit back a laugh, “I’m obsessed with this.”

“Is there anything I can do to convince you not to read it?” Anthony wiggled his eyebrows, “I’d be willing to show you just how close you are to Aphrodite.”

Kate hummed, tapping her finisher on her chin. “Tell me who D is? I don’t remember you being friends with a D in uni. But you fucking hate him.”

Anthony raised his eyebrows, “You don’t know a D from first year?”

It dawned on her and her mouth fell open with a gasp, “Oh you wanted to grow a moustache to set you apart from Dan?!”

He flushed, “He had a motorbike and I was jealous! He was dating my dream girl.”

“That’s very sweet.”

Anthony hummed, leaning into her, “Would the moustache have worked?”

Kate grimaced, “It would have set this timeline back at least 5 years. Now I might be into it.”

“Interesting.”

[skribblezcorner]

WIP WEDNESDAY EVERYBODY!!!!!

heres a new fic im working on where Sanji gets his tongue pierced on a dare. it’s zosan ofc but that part comes a little later ✨✨ enjoy the three lines i have written thanks

__________

Ah, shit, is the first thing Sanji thinks when he wakes up, sprawled across the deck and surrounded by his snoring crewmates.

There's a headache pounding ferociously behind his eyes, and he’s still wearing the same clothes he had on last night. Speaking of, he can’t seem to remember last night. It’s not an uncommon occurrence for the entire crew to get piss-drunk and pass out on the Sunny’s lawn (They’re pirates, for god’s sake), but Sanji has never been this disoriented when he wakes up the next morning.

Warmed by the few rays of sun peeking through the morning clouds, he staggers up and picks his way through all the bodies on the floor. He takes a a moment to stretch, and when he yawns, he feels a twinge of pain in his mouth. Strange, but Sanji doesn’t really have the metal capacity to worry about anything right now. He drags his feet to the bathroom to brush his teeth before he gets started on breakfast.

Upon entering the bathroom, he makes the astute observation that he looks like shit. His hair is greasy and sticking up in places, he only has on one shoe, and three buttons are missing from the only casual shirt he owns. In addition, some of his stubble is growing back- he really needs to shave. Great. He sighs and finds his toothbrush from the many scattered all over the sink’s counter. He puts on a pea-sized amount of toothpaste, looks back up at the mirror and opens his mouth, and-

He screams.

—

Usopp is the first one is the first one to come running inside, bleary-eyed and mumbling something along the lines of “What? What happened!?”

Once Sanji turns toward him though, all of his concern immediately disappears and he starts laughing. Hysterically.

Sanji would threaten him to shut the fuck up, but he literally can't. He can barely even move his face now because his tongue has blown up like a fucking balloon inside of his mouth around what looks like a shiny silver bar. In short, Sanji has a fucking piercing. In his mouth. Why, or how, he has no idea- but it looks like Usopp does.

“Oh my god,” Usopp manages between cackles, the fucker he is, “You- stay, just-” he dissolves back into a fit of laughter and rushes out of the room. This leaves Sanji staring at the door with a dripping toothbrush and still no explanation.

After a few minutes, Usopp comes back with a cameko in his hands. “Just know, i had no part in this. In fact, I was sleeping. Yes, sleeping- I was so tired, you know…”

Sanji levels him with a blank stare. “Yeah…” Usopp stammers, “Okaytakethisbye!” He pushes the snail into Sanji’s hands and then scrambles out again.

Sanji looks down at the cameko in his hands, turning it around to the compartment on it’s back. He flips out the screen to the last recorded video, and presses play.

__________

hope you liked this little snippet!!!! the rest will (HOPEFULLY) be coming iut in the next two weeks, so watch out for that!!!

[aihoshiino]

chapter 147 thoughts

you guys ever hear the tale of the monkey's paw. grants your wish but you suffer dire consequences as a result? just felt relevant to this chapter for some reason. anyway.

Chapters Since The 143 Kiss Happened And Went Completely Unacknowledged And Unaddressed Count: 4

I'm gonna be up front and say that while I really wanted to like this chapter and it has the bones of interesting ideas, so many of the existing issues with the Movie Arc just bring it crashing back down. I probably dislike it more than I necessarily should because knowing that this definitely is the end and seeing concretely in hindsight just how much time was wasted and how much excellent material has been squandered or flat out skipped over entirely just makes me want to put my head through a brick wall. And it just sucks because, like… man, I don't want to dislike Oshi no Ko! I really don't enjoy feeling like I'm just putting negativity out each chapter because when the story hits, it hits so fucking good!! The Movie Arc has been clunky but it's had some truly breathtaking individual moments and character beats that make me remember why I fell in love with the series so deeply but then chapters like this come along and I wonder why I'm even bothering to keep reading.

anyway. Anyway.

To my genuine shock and surprise, the RBHK conversation happens entirely onscreen and isn't needlessly dragged out which I will take as a W at this point. What is less of a W is how just… underwhelming this ended up being? This is Hikaru's first meeting (that we know of) with the child he fathered and then essentially orphaned… at least as far as Ruby is concerned. So her total lack of reaction to him is baffling. The question currently seems to be whether Ruby is only pretending not to recognize him in order to try and pry the answer she's looking for out of him or whether Akasaka really, genuinely wants me to believe that Ruby does not recognize her father, when Akane recognized him on sight, he looks identical to her twin brother she spent 18 years growing up with and she is in the middle of MAKING A MOVIE THAT STARS HIM. If the latter is the intent then all I can say is that I feel genuinely fucking insulted on Ruby's behalf at her being dumbed down this badly and for myself as a reader that Akasaka thinks I'm stupid enough to buy this. So I am very much hoping it's the former.

The talk they go onto have is also………………………….. man. I want to like it. I really want to pull it apart and analyze it because it is fascinating. It's a really important look into Ruby's feelings and I even myself said this was something I really wanted to see Ruby dealing with - being faced with the realization that the person who killed her mother isn't some ephemeral faceless force of uncomplicated evil, but a fucked up human being who was hurt and suffering and who faced horrific and monstrous abuse just like Ai did. The idea of Ruby wrestling with her conflicting feelings of empathy and resentment, similar to Kana trying to reconcile her lingering hurt with her love for Ruby as her friend, is super compelling.

But like… she didn't! Akasaka having Ruby look into the camera and having her say "uhhh i was totally having all these deep and complicated feelings this whole time trust me bro" is the first we have heard Ruby struggle with literally any of this. It's yet another example of what I've been saying this whole time of Akasaka both lacking enough respect for Ruby to seriously interrogate her as a character and rushing her to the endpoint of what should have been long term characterization in lieu of showing us the work it takes to get there. Rather than organically weaving any of this into the prior story and letting us actually see Ruby work through this, she just starts awkwardly monologing about it to a conveniently placed guy who is, depending on your interpretation of the chapter, either some rando with an umbrella or the guy she's pretty sure killed her mom.

There is no reason her struggling to reconcile these contrasting feelings of resentment and empathy couldn't have been explored as the movie was being filmed. There were countless opportunities for this to have come up while the movie was filming the scenes dealing with Hikaru's abuse - we even get this set up in 139 during the filming of their first meeting but it gets derailed by a dumb brocon joke because I guess that was more important to spend pagetime on than the arc Akasaka is trying to suddenly pretend Ruby was having.

And it's not like it even matters! Unless the next arc is also going to be about 15 Year Lie where we interrogate the content of the movie not shown to us, Ruby's struggle here comes to nothing. That overhanging question of "Will Ai('s actress) forgive her killer or not?" is cut short and goes unanswered. So what was the point of this?

I also just really can't get my head around this continued thread of Ruby wanting to be an idol who 'surpasses' Ai. I had a whole rant about it here I ended up deleting lol but the long and the short of it is it feels entirely incongruous with the series' broader portrayal and Ruby's own attitude about chasing Ai's light and what being an idol did to Ai but at this point I've given up.

The exchange with Kamiki that follows is like, the one part of this chapter I think is just uncomplicatedly interesting and worth interrogation. He actually gives Ruby a lot of genuinely good advice here - that she can only find an answer to that question by interrogating it herself and an answer from someone else won't solve the issue. Does she actually want suffering and revenge? Are those really at the core of who she is as a person?

The framing here is obviously and overtly sinister and suspicious and we're pretty clearly supposed to think he was about to shove Ruby down the stairs, but a few things jumped out to me. The first is that if you pay attention to the backgrounds, they seem to have actually already been close to if not at ground level by the time Akane caught up to them, so… what exactly was a push from that height going to do if he did, in fact, push her?

Not only that but uh… holy shit! His white hoshigan!!!!

Like, am I misremembering, or is this not the one and only time we have ever seen adult Hikaru - maybe even the real Hikaru full stop - without black hoshigans??? Given what we've seen of him so far and how the black hoshigans have been used as a symbol, if he really was about to kill Ruby… where did THAT come from?

Added together with the deeply sympathetic portrayal of his younger self in the movie, it continues to raise a lot of questions for me as to exactly what we're supposed to be thinking of Hikaru and how we're supposed to feel about him that I am finding very compelling. ambiguity enjoyers when the

NINO IS HERE!!!! MISS NINO I'M FREE THURSDAY NIGHT IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO HANG OUT

Joking aside, I'm really glad Nino is here because it implies her whatever the fuck is going on situationship with Kamiki is going to continue into the final arc(s?) of the series and that we'll get to see more of her as a result. Nino's been one of my favourite OnK characters since I first read 45510 so any more content of her in the main story is a treat.

Kamiki's words about the movie killing him via public opinion also lines up with what I was expecting to happen more or less… I'm curious to see how this is all going to play out and what this means for Aqua given that, if last chapter is anything to go by, he's still very much struggling with suicidal ideation. can someone PLEASE give my son a bone crushing hug.

akane stalking kamiki is up there as one of the funniest things ever in this manga btw. what is wrong w her <3

This is unfortunately where me having nice things to say about this chapter ends because the chapter - and therefore the Movie Arc as a whole - ends with this transparently rushed sequence absolutely mach speech blasting through the remaining material of the movie in one and a half's pages worth of silent single panels. Honestly, I really can't properly articulate how mad and frustrated I am about this lmao. It really just feels like Akasaka admitting to the reader that he's stopped giving a shit about what the movie was supposed to be about. The HKAI breakup that was given a huge amount of setup and weight at the start of filming? Ai's pregnancy? AI'S DEATH???? It's all skipped over and brushed aside as if it never mattered in the first place. Never mind any of the interesting characterization we could've gotten out of it. Never mind that the Movie Arc was promised to be about Ai and untangling her past. Never fucking mind Ruby having literally any interiority about having to act out the death of her beloved mother and reliving the event that destroyed her and her brother's lives. If Akasaka doesn't care, why should I?

It feels like a slap in the face for getting invested in the story's promises and trying to engage with it. But of course, I'm going to be back like a clown doing just that when the next chapter drops anyway.

at least we're finally moving on to a new arc but by god. at what fucking cost.

break next week……………………………………………..