#'was there required reading for this apocalypse???'

[snek-eyes]

oh Newt 😆

#good omens #good omens 1 #goodomensedit #anathema device #newton pulsifer #crowley #v watches good omens #v posts things #'was there required reading for this apocalypse???' #newt is so agressively just some guy i kind of love him for it

[inbrightshadows]

*sticks one arm out from under my rock, slips this into the tag, and retreats back under my rock* Inspired by the cass apocalyptic series by somerandomdudelmao It's a very very cool rottmnt fancomic and you should give it a read 👉👈🥺 (Not canon but you might recognize some parts/dialogue from the comic) [warning for implied/referenced past infant death but no actual infant death (the boy is fine dw), infected wounds, amputation, and a dog like creature biting someone]

The first time Casey Jr almost dies he's about three months old, by their best guess, and he's only been Casey Jr for a week.

Cassandra and Raph go out on a supply run, which is normal. They come back with a baby in a box, which is not.

Fortunately or unfortunately, there's no such thing as government or paperwork in the apocalypse. So there's nothing stopping Cassandra from saying “I found him in an alley so he's my son now, his name is Cassandra Jr.” And that's that.

Thankfully, this isn't the resistance's first baby so there's plenty of formula and hand me downs to supply Cassandra in her sudden status as a Mom. And everything else the family quickly supplies.

Donnie is very uninterested in babysitting the oozy crotch goblin but Casey Jr's crib still has the genius built logo and built in laser security system to prove he cares in his own way.

Mikey breaks into his carefully rationed paint supply to paint a small mural above the crib and takes every chance to babysit he can.

And Raph? Well Raph dives headfirst into the roll of co-parent slash halway blockade.

Then there's Leo.

In his own words, he has a whole resistance to babysit. And besides that there’s not much he can really do other than what he’s already doing.

Fight the krang, stop the war, give little Casey Jr a better world to grow up in. And also avoid everyone’s efforts to get him to hold the baby.

He is not cut out for tasks that require a delicate touch but it seems like he’s the only one who understands that. He’s a gigantic mutant ninja turtle who, unlike his brothers, has never had any kind of hobby that requires any kind of delicacy. So he hangs back, he keeps an eye out for things that will be useful to the Caseys while he’s out on the surface, and he waves away attempts to hand Jr to him.

And then Casey Jr gets sick.

It should be fine. Should be normal. Babies are delicate little things, getting sick is a thing they do. Except there’s not much the way of medicine in the apocalypse. And babies are delicate.

It starts as a low grade fever. By the end of the day it’s a raging bonfire. They have a lot of things but medicine is in short supply. Nothing they have is working. It’s just Casey Jr, sobbing his heart out on Raph’s shoulder while Cassandra hovers and Raph tries to soothe all three of them.

There’s nothing Leo can do to help. They don’t have the medicine they need to treat the fever. At least not something safe to use on a baby. Raph is the one who remembers how Dad used to use lukewarm baths to break their fevers when they were little and he was still too scared to try human medicine on them. It helps enough that they can get some formula into the kid. But it’s not fixing things.

Two days pass and the fever refuses to break. The baths are becoming less and less helpful. After the third refused feeding attempt that afternoon Donnie slams down a map of ‘areas most likely to contain useful information or materials for treating a sick baby.’

Leo and Mikey gear up and head out leaving Donnie to monitor things back at base while April takes charge of running everything else so that Raph is free to help Cassandra take care of Jr.

It’s bad luck, really, that a pack of krang dogs find their camp on the first night. It should be fine. They should be able to handle it.

But bad luck is bad luck.

Leo sees movement out of the corner of his eye. He moves to dodge and the ground underneath him decides now is a perfect time to give way.

“LEO!” Mikey yells as Leo tumbles away into the dark.

Leo grunts, biting back a scream as the Krang dog’s teeth sink into his arm. They tumble into the dark together, bouncing down the stacks of rubble. It’s dead by the time he lands but the damage is done.  

The good news is that the fall kept the dog from getting a good grip on him.  

The bad news is that even if the bite won’t infect him with Krang regular infections are different story. Krang zombies have foul mouths.

Mikey can’t find out it managed to bite Leo. If he does he’ll want to go back and get Leo treatment before they look for the medicine.

And right now every second could mean the difference between getting medicine to Casey Jr in time or adding to their graveyard.

So Leo makes sure that by the time Mikey makes it down to him his first aid kit is a good bit lighter and any sign of the bite is hidden beneath his normal arm wraps.

When Mikey finds him Leo smiles and doesn’t hesitate to wrap both arms around his little brother.

“Are you okay- did it bite you?” Mikey asks, darting around him to hunt down every last scrape.

“Nah, just a couple of scratches,” Leo lies. “Let me heal them-” “No, we’ve got a ways to go, I won't risk you wearing yourself out too soon.” “Leo!” “I already used my first aid supplies on them! It’d be a waste if you healed me now!” Mikey glares at him but huffs and nods. “Fine! But if they start to feel bad-” “I’ll tell you, don’t worry,” Leo lies again.

Day two is a bust. There's useful supplies in the area Donnie marked out for them to search, sure, but nothing that will help  Casey Jr. Or the sensation of a burn throbbing its way up Leo's hidden bite wound.

Leo and Mikey mark out where the useful things are and keep going. Someone can go back for them when they're less pressed for time.

That night Leo waits for Mikey to fall asleep before he checks the bite. It's bad.

The moment the bandages come off he's gagging at the putrid stink of infection. It's hard to see it in the dark but then again he's not sure he really wants a better look. It wouldn't change his mind anyway.

He can make out the dark veins of infection spreading. If he wasn't green it'd certainly be a violent red.

He cleans it, spreads a thin layer of disinfectant cream that will do about as much good as throwing a cup of water at a bonfire, and re-bandages it.

His usual arm wraps go up over top of it, hopefully Mikey won't notice he's done them a bit higher than normal.

All the evidence goes into the fire. By the time Mikey's turn to take watch comes all that's left is ash.

On day three Leo wakes up feeling like someone dropped a building on him. He makes the mistake of groaning about it.

“Leo? Are you okay?” Mikey asks. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. I just, uh, I think I’m inheriting Dad’s back problems! That or the Krang made the ground harder.” Mikey snickers. “I mean, they would, but I’m also pretty sure you just called yourself old.” “I did not!” Leo drags himself upright and makes a show of cracking his back. It obliges with a satisfyingly loud pop that makes Mikey giggle harder. “I think your spine disagrees with you too.” “Shut up!” “Awwww are you feeling cranky, old man?” 

Leo is too exhausted to feel properly offended or even think of forming a comeback but he plays it up for his little brother anyway.

Anything to keep him from worrying. Or forcing them to turn back. It’s fine. This shouldn’t take too much longer anyway.

It’s midday by the time they reach the second site. Just from a glance it’s obvious this is a more promising site. There are actual chunks of buildings scattered around and there’s enough of a shattered sign left lying around to tell them that whatever kind of care this place used to give it was geared specifically towards children.

There’s plenty to find digging through the rubble. Well. Plenty for Mikey to find. Leo is mostly trying not to let on how dizzy he is.

To both of their frustration, they run out of daylight before they find anything. Leo can feel his body screaming at him to lay down and rest. Just a little longer, he tells his body. They’re going to find the medicine. He can feel it. Leo just needs to make it at least that long.

The fourth day dawns. Mikey shakes him awake as soon as there’s enough light ot see by. Leo bites back a moan as he claws his way upright. Leo thought his arm hurt before but now it feels like someone is pouring lava down it.

He notes with a calmness that boarders on absurdity that he can’t feel his fingers.

Something must show on his face- or maybe he just looks at least halfway as awful as he feels- because Mikey frowns at him when he wakes up.

“I’m worried,” Leo blurts out. “If this takes much longer then- I don’t think- he’s already been sick for so long.” “We’ll find it. Today, I’m sure. I’ve got a good feeling.” Leo tries to smile for him and hopes the shaky thing he offers up is enough. Well. At least one of them is feeling good.

Leo is lucky. He’s always been lucky. Luck runs out eventually, it always does. But not today. Maybe it helps that Leo isn’t hoping for something for nothing. Because on day four they strike gold.

Mikey is a short bit away, digging through the rubble with his power, hunting for anything with even the chance of helping. Leo is doubled over just out of his site, trying to stifle his stomach’s efforts to rebel against him.

Don’t hurl, he tells himself, if you hurl there’s no way Mikey won’t realize something is wrong.

He forces his eyes open, hoping that focusing on something will help. And then Leo’s eyes fall on a shattered glass cabinet, several packs of some something promisingly adorned in cartoon human children. He reaches in, flips it, and feels a wash of relief when he realizes it’s exactly what they’re looking for.

“Mikey- Mikey look-” everything fuzzes, tumbles. There’s something under him. He blinks back blurs of color, tries to resolve them into something coherent. Mikey’s face hovers over him, mouth moving. He looks upset. “What's the matter?” he tries to ask. “Leo! Leo, are you sick? What hurts?” “Arm,” Leo answers without thinking.

Oh shit. Oh shit he’s not supposed to let Mikey know. But it’s a little late for that. At least the panic clears his head a little. Mikey makes a wounded sound in the back of his throat as he uncovers the bite.

“Leo.” “Yeah, I know. Sorry… sorry for lying.” He watches Mikey’s lip wobble until Mikey catches it in his teeth. “Leo this is bad! We- I don’t know if we have the supplies to treat this!” Leo hums. Now that the panic is fading it’s getting so much harder to think. He lifts his good hand before he can forget and flops it over towards Mikey. “S’okay. We can go back now.” Mikey takes the box of medicine with shaky fingers. “Leo,” he croaks.

Mikey is talking. Something… probably important? He looks scared but they’re not under attack. He’s pretty sure they’re not. Leo tries to focus on him anyway but it’s so hard. He’s so tired.

He’s been tired but there was no resting, not properly, not until they got what they needed. They do now so it’s fine, he can rest his eyes a bit.

Good. Seeing is hard too. Just blurs and colors.

He feels Mikey’s hand on his face, his voice in his ears. He tries to pay attention but he’s slipping, sliding away.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, but he’s out before he can think of what, specifically, he’s sorry for.

Leo doesn’t remember the trip back, just the thud of Mikey landing. Someone screaming. A hand squeezing his. Small. Thin fingers. Lots of them.

“April?” he might mumble. He thinks. “Shhh, rest big guy,” Probably-April says. “Donnie has it. He’s gonna fix it.” Oh. That’s good. He lets himself sink, lets her hold him together while he waits for Donnie to do what Donnie does best.

A light in his face. “Am I dying?” he says. Thinks? Someone hisses. Angry sound. Who does that again? “Not if I have anything to say about it. And I have a lot to say about it.” Oh. Donnie is here. That’s good. Didn’t someone say he was coming? “Now go to sleep, you don’t want to be awake for this part.” Leo doesn’t get a chance to answer, he’s already sinking again.

Leo blinks up at the ceiling of Donnie’s lab. He spends a good while just staring at it, trying to get his brain to work. His arm throbs. “Ow.”

Some several things crash and shatter and then Donnie''s face hovers into view. “How do you feel- nauseous? any pain, aches, fever? Chills?” “Uh, my arm hurts a little?”

“Which one? The one that got bit by one of the most disease ridden things in the apocalypse and then went four days without medical care or the other one?” “Hey I did some medical care!” “You did FIRST AID. You know, the thing you do to help someone before you get them ACTUAL MEDICAL CARE.”

Leo winces. There’s no arguing about that one. “Ok well, I was hoping we’d find the medicine and get back before it got too bad.” “Well. You didn’t.” “Yeah, I guess. How long was I out?” he asks. He tries to lift his arm but he can’t feel it move. He frowns. “It… barely hurts anymore. Uh. Donnie? I can’t- Um. Donnie. I can’t feel my arm.”

Donnie’s face twitches. Leo tries to turn his head to look at his arm. Donnie’s hand darts out out to stop him. Leo looks at Donnie again. Donnie looks away, grimacing and refusing to make eye contact.

“Donnie-” “Don’t look yet.” Leo tries to move his arm again but there’s still no response. No it’s not just that there isn’t a response. He can't even feel the weight of it.

He can feel his shoulder. He can feel a ring of throbbing pain a few inches above his elbow. And then it’s just… light? Like there’s nothing but air- oh. Oh. Okay then. There’s where his luck ran out. “...Huh. That’s. Hm. Let me see?” “Leo-” “Donnie. Let me see.” Reluctantly, Donnie eases back.

For a second Leo doesn’t do anything. He closes his eyes and breathes. He turns his head. He opens his eyes.

It’s gone.

Everything past his first crescent marking is gone.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep, measured, breath. Okay, he thinks. Okay. He’s a medic. He knew this was a possibility.  Donnie starts eyeing him nervously.

“Did he make it?” Leo asks at last. “...Yeah he made it,” Donnie says quietly. Leo feels like he's fully breathing out for the first time since Cassandra burst into the infirmary with a sick baby in her arms. "Good. That's good." Donnie puts his hand over the end of Leo's nub, covering the scar. He stares at the floor and says nothing. Silence reigns. Leo stares up at the ceiling, letting it settle around them.

Until the door slams open and the rest of his family tumble through the door, both Caseys included.

The last knot of tension loosens from him at the sight of Casey Jr, happily wiggling in his mom’s arms as he flails his arms at Raph.

He tears his eyes away as his family gathers around him, worried and loud, and Leo only knows one way to calm them down.

“So. I’m guessing I'm the opposite of... All Right now, huh?” Cassandra covers Casey Jr's ears. Donnie leans away, inhaling sharply. “Why are you like this?“ he asks. “Because it's all I've got... Left” Raph groans, hiding his face in his hands. “Already?” “Put him back under,” April says, deadpan. “Boooo,” Mikey says, and Leo pretends he doesn’t sound two steps away from tears.   “I hate you so much,” Donnie lies, a few screens manifesting around him. He taps away with the hand that isn't still covering the scar on what remains of Leo's arm while Leo laughs at his own terrible jokes.

“You no longer have a choice about getting a prosthetic. Mikey tried to say I had to ask before implanting experimental technology in your body but you know what? I’m making an executive decision. I can’t live with the puns.”

Leo starts laughing harder, so hard that it circles right back around to sobbing. He’s buried in a pile before the first sob can even fully leave him. Donnie’s eyes stay on the screen even as he shifts his hand to Leo’s shoulder and squeezes. “I’ll fix it. Don’t worry.”

Leo spends a lot of time sleeping but he’s never alone when he wakes up.

There’s Raph, showing off the balls he’s threading onto his mask tails so Casey Jr can climb them while Cassandra sits nearby, once more restitching her perpetually tearing sleeves on her shirts.

He wakes to Mikey making little fish or birds dance in the air while Casey Jr sits in his lap and reaches for them.

Or there’s April pouring over battle plans with a mug in one hand and the other wrapped around Casey Jr.

Point is there’s a lot of Casey Jr. So Leo really should be prepared to wake up with a tiny weight on his chest, healthy and safe and sound. And still so very tiny. His breath hitches, he doesn’t dare move.

“Bemused scoff.”

Leo carefully turns his head toward where Donnie is busily typing away at something.

“You know you can’t avoid holding him forever. Even I've held him." Leo gives Donnie the flattest look he can manage. Sure. Donnie has held Casey Jr. Once in a blue moon when there was literally no one else to do it (and Leo's hands were firmly tucked under his arms.) For about sixty seconds total. "...I've held him more than you have.”

Leo grimaces. “Look, I wasn’t cut out for holding delicate stuff when I had two arms. It’s an even worse idea now that I’m twice as likely to drop him.”

“Invalid excuse. I’m already working on a solution to your arm situation.” Donnie waves his hands and his ninpo sparks, building a blue print of an arm and some other thing hovering in the air between them.

“These are the schematics for a bio-mechanical arm and a socket implant to allow it to safely interface with your nero-” Leo’s brain glazes over the rest of Donnie’s explanation.

“...So you want to turn me into a kick ass cyborg?” he asks as soon as Donnie is done. “Did you listen to none of what I just said?” “C’mon, Don, I’ve got you for all the nerd stuff.” “Exasperated sigh, yes I’m turning you into a kick ass cyborg.” “Sweet,” Leo says, yawning. Donnie huffs. “Go back to sleep, Nardo.” “Can’t, baby could fall,” Leo mumbles. “I won’t let him fall. Just rest.” And Leo trusts his brother. So he does.

It takes a frustratingly long time for Leo to recover enough for the surgery to implant the port for the arm in his stump. It’s more low profile than he expected, hardly noticeable at all unless you’re looking head on at it.

Then there’s a whole other saga of learning how to use the arm Donnie has built him. It’s clunkier than Donnie’s preferred standards but it works almost as seamless as his real one. He gets good with it and he gets good with it fast because with the Krang you either do it fast or you don’t do it all.

The unintended and unwanted side effect of this is that now his family are no longer accepting “I’m not good enough with my arm I might drop him” as a valid excuse to not hold Casey Jr.

And they are very, very, intent on getting him to hold Casey Jr.

Look. Leo is thanking sweet pizza supreme in the sky and every one of the Hamato ancestors, Casey Jr bounces back from being sick like it never happened.

He bounces and wiggles, he babbles and giggles, as though less than a week or so ago he wasn’t so sick that Leo and his family (literally) risked life and limb to get him medicine. And Leo is thrilled. Really.

It’s just that he wishes his family would stop encouraging Casey Jr’s newest favorite game- trying to grab Leo. Because apparently one of any baby’s favorite thing is whatever they can’t have.

“Here! Hold him!” Mikey holds Casey out so that he faces Leo. Casey Jr, who seems to have a sixth sense for when someone is playing the 'try to get Casey close enough to touch Leo' game,  is thrilled. His tiny arms wave at Leo, itty-bitty fingers clenching like they’re ready to latch on the second they’re close enough to touch him.

“W-wait, I can’t!” Leo protests for the thousandth time. But Mikey isn’t taking no for an answer this time. A nudge of mystic power keeps Leo from fleeing. All Leo can do is tuck his dangerous un-baby proofed metal arm away from tender baby skin and wave his flesh hand pleadingly.

“C’mon Leo… you have to hold him eventually.”  Mikey cajoles, gently waggling Casey Jr.

“Not happening, no way.” Leo leans back as far as Mikey’s powers will let him.

“Yes way,” Mikey says, holding Casey closer and closer. Casey is giggling furiously, tiny arms flying at top speed.

“Do you even see how tiny he is?” Leo points at the baby, just in case Mikey needs a reminder. “I could break him with one finger!” There’s a tiny nudge to said finger. Leo looks down. Casey Jr is copying him, nudging Leo’s much larger finger with his own.

Mikey gets a look on his face. A terrible, evil, look.

“One finger? Like thiiiiis one?” Mikey grins as he lifts his middle fingers away from Casey Jr’s body. Leo freezes. “Mikey. Mikey no.”

“Whats that? Oh nooooo.... I can’t hear you over the sound of my grip slipping!” Mikey sing-songs. “Don’t you dare!” Leo stares at him, horrified and frozen. He won’t. Surely he won’t. Cassandra would murder him. Raph would double murder him. He wouldn't. Right? Right??? “Oh no! I hope someone catches the poor delicate baby!” And then Mikey drops Casey Jr.

Leo shrieks. He forgets that Mikey is literally magic and does not need his hands to hold a building, much less a baby.

“Mikey what the fuck!” Leo squawks, hands flying forward and closing around the tiny delicate bundle that is- … not falling towards the ground at all actually.

The gears turn, the realization that he's been tricked sets in. Leo glares at Mikey. Mikey grins, unrepentant, and waves his faintly glowing hands, a glow also present around a perfectly safe Casey Jr. The glow vanishes and Leo feels the surprisingly greater weight of the baby properly in his hands for the first time.

“Ahhhh Mikey- Mikey take him back!” Mikey stubbornly keeps his hands in the air and backs away, still grinning. “You’re fine, you’ve got this.” “I don’t have this!” in spite of saying this Leo is already tucking Casey closer to him. “It’s fiiinnne, you're doing fine! Look, he’s having a great time!”

Tiny clumsy fingers hit his jaw, drawing his eyes down. Casey Jr has one hand buried in Leo’s scarf. The other is pressed to the highest part of Leo’s face it can reach. As he looks down they stretch up, reaching for the vibrant red markings on his face.

“Ah- what- what does he want?” “Awww he likes your stripes, hold him higher!”

Hesitantly, Leo shifts the baby a little higher in his arms and Casey’s little fingers smack against his markings, clenching against them as best the pudgy little things can. Leo chuckles. “What? You want those? Hate to break it to you bud but they’re kind of attached to me.” Big dark eyes lock onto his. Casey Jr babbles. His little fingers flex against Leo’s face again.

Someone makes a noise like a slowly deflating balloon. Leo looks up to find Raph has found them. He’s standing in the doorway, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

“Please tell me Donnie has a good angle on this,” he says, voice wobbling. Raph’s com clicks on and switches itself to speaker mode. “Sending you the best shots as I speak,” says Donnie’s voice. “I hate all of you,” Leo lies. Mikey snickers at him, Raph is too busy cooing to reply. And then Casey Jr realizes Raph is there and decides he’s done being held by Leo. He leans his entire body toward Raph and puts all of his tiny baby might into wiggling free of Leo's grip.

“Oh fuck-” “Don’t cuss in front of the baby!” “Raph. Raph.” “You’re doing fine, relax-”  “He’s gonna fall! I’m gonna drop him- Raph!” Raph easily scoops Casey Jr up, saving Leo from the terrifying force of a wiggly baby.

Casey Jr giggles and grabs for Raph’s mask tails while Leo dramatically flops to the floor. Mikey continues to snicker at Leo’s expense, floating over to pat his head.

“I can’t believe you pretended to drop him just to trick me into holding him,” Leo groans. “You what?” Raph’s head snaps over to them. Mikey freezes. “I had mystic hands on him the whole time!” “Baby holding is a two hand activity!” “You literally hold him with one hand!” “Raph’s hand is big enough to count as two!” “Oh that is so not fair!” “... Leo watch the little man for a minute.” Raph sets Casey Jr down by Leo’s head. Leo makes an inarticulate sound of horror but before he can protest Raph is already bolting for Mikey.

Mikey flees with a yelp.    Leo looks at Casey Jr. Casey Jr looks at him. “So, you come here often?” Casey Jr stuffs his fist in his mouth and makes a garbled noise around it, almost recognizable as a very turtle like chirp. Leo checks that his brothers are out of ear shot and then chirps back. Casey Jr’s eyes widen and sparkle. He takes his damp hand out of his mouth and smacks Leo in the face with it. Leo grimaces. “Thanks.” In the distance, Mikey screams as Raph catches him but it's just as quickly followed by laughter.

Casey Junior grows up in between loss and stolen joy and forgotten childhood memories. He gets old enough to ask questions. Inevitably, the day comes when he asks “Sensei, how did you lose your arm?”

And Leo lies.

Or, well… He doesn’t lie so much as he just… leaves out some details. Details Casey Jr does not and will not ever know if Leo gets his way.

“Ah, you know… Krang dog got a lucky bite in. By the time I got back to base it was the arm or me and Donnie chose me.” He says it with a light little shrug, like it’s no big deal.  

Because for Leo, it’s not a big deal. Between losing an arm and losing family he’d chose the arm over and over again.

#rottmnt #Cass apocalyptic series #rottmnt casey jr #rottmnt future leo #I did not mean for this to be so long help #ahhhh i hope this is ok and doesn't come off as weird or anything #Originally it was just going to be Leo's family tricking him into holding the baby but then I got an Idea #and then the idea got Really Really big... #my writing

[dyaz-stories]

an indentation in the shape of you || Cha Hyun-Su x f!Reader

summary: Hyun-Su wants to learn how to make you feel good. The two of you experiment some more.

word count: 2.8k

warnings & tags: fluff, smut, reader is afab, explicit consent, pwp, porn with feelings, fingering, dry-humping i guess?, they're both virgins and pretty awkward but they're getting better at this, all very vanilla.

first one-shot · previous one-shot

This one-shot can be read independently as there is nothing intense plot-wise that requires having read the other parts, but I do recommend reading them for context.

A/N: this is my first hyun-su one-shot without angst lol (...don't get too used to it). anyway, this is more smut, and i think it's more intense than the previous one. hyun-su is more confident in this one, and he takes charge a little more (but in other ways he's pretty subby, so do with that what you want). hope you enjoy!

There is something about watching Hyun-Su moving around in your house that warms your heart in a way you can’t quite explain. He’s seemed more confident there lately, no longer tiptoeing or stiffening around you like you could kick him out any second. It reminds you of days forever gone, when your mom used to sit at the table while doing her crosswords and your dad put music on the second he walked in through the door.

It reminds you of when this house was a home.

Right now, Hyun-Su’s fixing up a spear he’s brought here with some of your dad’s tools. It’s not his, you know that much. ‘Yi-Kyeong asked me to take care of it’, he’d said when he had set to fix it. There was something to his tone that had stopped you from asking for more, even if you think he’d have told you. He’d said her name respectfully, but with deep sadness, and you had known that there was a lot more to this story. You’d get there some day, you were sure, but not tonight.

Hyun-Su glances up at you, and you almost whip your head away to pretend you weren’t looking at him, like you’re a highschooler with a crush. Instead, you don’t even try to make it look like the long forgotten book in your lap is of any interest to you, and you give him a smile.

He stills his movements.

“Is something wrong?”

His voice is calm and deep. He sure has come a long way.

“Just like looking at you,” you answer, because it’s true, and even with all that progress, you’re not surprised when Hyun-Su looks away from you, cheeks turning red.

When he gets the courage to look back at you, though, a bashful smile illuminates his features, and you don’t think that would have happened even as recently as a few weeks ago.

“You do?”

There’s just something in the air. Something fresh and sweet and new, something that makes you bite your lower lip while you nod, suppressing the giggle that’s forming in the back of your throat. Hyun-Su’s eyes on you feel intense, and you’re not used to getting that kind of look from him. After a few seconds of that, he abandons the spear behind him to stand up and walk towards you, eyes not leaving yours for a second.

A long, intense shiver runs down your back. Under his hoodie, you can see the muscles of his shoulders moving as he walks, and fleetingly, you wonder if you’d have had a chance with him, in a world without the Apocalypse, but even that is quickly swallowed by the fact that you have him now.

He puts a hand on the back of the couch as he leans close to you to kiss you, the other coming to rest on your waist and oh, if he keeps doing things like that, you think you’ll just turn into a puddle. Your heart is fluttering, and when his hand sneaks under your t-shirt, long, cold fingers carefully caressing your skin, you think it just might fly out of your chest.

His lips move slowly against yours, and you tilt your head back as he towers over you. You feel like you’re going into overdrive from how sensual he’s being, how his tongue dances with yours as the soft sounds of the kiss fill the room. It’s not long before he’s gently pushing you onto your back on the couch, and he goes down with you, putting one knee between your legs to support himself.

And it’s all just so much. Hyun-Su’s lips, his taste on your tongue, his warm body half-covering yours, his fingers running over your ribs, and, fuck, now his knee just almost, almost pressing right where you need him to.

But this feels nice, too, and you’re not trying to initiate anything sexual just yet, so you do your best to be patient. You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer, and find some satisfaction in the way Hyun-Su loses his rhythm at that. Knowing that you still have that kind of effect on him, even as you’re unraveling completely under his touch, makes you just a little more confident in what you’re doing.

It isn’t long before Hyun-Su’s gotten his bearings back though, and then he kisses you with renewed passion. The kiss turns less controlled, mouth crashing against yours harder, his hand tightens on your waist— before he pulls away, panting.

“Sorry,” he says before he can catch himself, cheeks flushed.

“I didn’t mind,” you answer, but your voice is squeakier than you had intended.

“I didn’t mean to— I wanted to ask you something.”

His black eyes are wide, and as much as the blue eyes are like an electric shock running through you, you love them so much. You love how you drown in them, you love how kind they are, love that they are, truly, a window to his soul.

“What is it?” you whisper, not trusting your voice anymore.

“Just— What we did. Last time.”

No need to be a rocket scientist to figure that one out, so, even if you feel blood rushing to your face, you nod.

“I wanted to, uh, return the favor. If you don’t mind.”

It’s your eyes’ turn to widen, and you push yourself onto your elbows to better read his expression. The skin of your face tingles with how burning hot it is.

“I mean I— Sure but you don’t— You don’t have to do anything—”

“I know,” he says, shaking his head. His voice is soft. “But I want to.”

You swallow, but you lay back down. You’re more nervous in this situation than you would have expected, feel vulnerable, exposed, even if you’re all clothed for now. But you trust Hyun-Su, you do, with all of your heart, and you cannot imagine a better person to have this experience with. So, slowly, you nod.

“Are you sure?”

“Very sure,” you whisper.

“Then can I…?”

He pulls on your shirt, but without putting any force into it. His eyes are on you, waiting for your approval — or whatever you decide to answer with.

You swallow.

“Um, yes, but could you— could you also…?”

He understands your meaning without you having finished, and acts on it faster than you would have expected, almost immediately pulling his own hoodie over his head and letting it fall to the floor. You’d noticed before that, for all his shyness over other things, he doesn’t seem to care about nudity all that much, but you’re not sure what to do with it.

For now, you can at least admire the work of art that is his body, his well-defined muscles and hard pectorals, and since he’s out in the open now, you give him a nod.

“Go ahead.”

He takes off your shirt like you’re made of porcelain, pulling it slowly and softly over your head, and taking his time so it doesn’t get caught in your hair. It is such a sweet sight, how focused he gets on the task, on making sure he’s doing right, so that he doesn’t hurt you in any way. It’s only once he’s done that his gaze lands on your body. He stills, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, and you can’t help but stiffen.

It might be silly, at this point in your relationship — and when the world has literally ended outside your window — but you’re feeling self-conscious. You want to fold your arms in front of your breasts, hide your stomach and any imperfection.

“You’re beautiful,” Hyun-Su says, so obviously in awe, and the weight on your stomach is replaced by sweet, sweet butterflies. “Is it— is it okay to—”

“Touch me,” you ask instead of letting him stutter through the rest of his sentence, and he almost gasps at that, pants suddenly feeling a lot tighter.

“You shouldn’t say things like that to me,” he mumbles, bright red once again, stealing a kiss from you when you open your mouth to tease.

Then he’s kissing down your neck, and you can tell that he’s mimicking the things you did to him the last time something like this happened between the two of you. You barely have time to find that sweet, though, because soon the only thing on your mind are the open-mouthed kisses he’s pressing against your skin, and how they make you so desperate to buck your hips against he’s oh so well placed thigh.

He doesn’t linger on your neck, though, soon moving down to your chest, sneaking a hand behind your back to try and unclasp your bra — something he ends up struggling you with so much that you’re the one that eventually reaches back to get it done. He’ll have all the time to learn that kind of things later. For now, there’s something on your mind, and you don’t want to have to wait any longer.

You let him slide it down your arms, then discard it, letting it fall with the rest of your clothes.

“Can I…?”

“You still don’t have to ask.”

He hesitates for a second, before going back down to press a shy kiss under your collarbone, right where your breast starts to form. He keeps kissing his way down, hands for now cautiously staying away. Finally, he reaches your nipple, and you cannot hold back a distinct gasp when he carefully wraps his mouth around it. It turns into a full moan when he flicks his tongue against it — and you could swear you feel his mouth stretching into a grin right after that.

It’s then that he cups your other breast with his hand, and you shiver. His body may be radiating heat, but his hands are cold. They don’t stay that way for long though, not with how hot you’re running right now yourself. He starts off shy over there too, at first massaging your breast gently, before his fingers dare brush against that nipple. It’s hard already, and with his mouth on the other side, all you can do is arch into his touch, moans still falling freely from your lips.

Pleasure’s running wild in your body, each and every sensation going straight down to your core, more so when his fingers experimentally pull on your nipple. You’re dripping wet already, desperate for relief, and it’s not long before you can no longer hold yourself back and buck your hips up against his leg.

He lets go of you almost immediately, glancing down at your lower body as if he doesn’t understand what’s happening. When he looks back at you, his eyes are impossibly wide, his pupils dilated.

“Did you— Did you just—”

“Hyun-Su,” you call out in a sigh, running your fingers over the nape of his neck. “Touch me.”

For a second, his whole body tenses and he just stares at you. Then he exhales.

“Fuck,” he mumbles under his breath. “Fuck. Um. Then I’ll— I’ll just—” He starts fiddling with the button of your jeans, and just the anticipation of his touch where you need it the most sends pleasure rushing through you once more. This time, he manages to get them off of you without your help, and there’s another slow exhale. “You’re so— You’re so—”

Wet is the word you think he’s searching for, and he’s not wrong about that. The urge to reach down between your leg to take care of the ache you’re feeling is strong, but the desire to feel him down there is all-consuming, and so you wait for him, your breathing loud and ragged.

“Tell me, okay? Tell me what feels good to you.”

He doesn’t take off your panties, probably because he hasn’t gotten your jeans fully off, and instead just pushes them to the side. He’s cautious here too, at first barely brushing against the lips, which still makes the muscles of your thighs tense. It feels like you’ve been waiting for it for centuries when he finally inserts a long finger inside you, sliding in so easily from how dripping wet you are. Your hold on his shoulders tighten, fingers digging into his skin, and even with your lips pressed tightly together, your moan reverberates through your body.

“Good?” Hyun-Su asks, and his low voice in your ears does absolute wonders to you right now.

“You can add another one,” you say, except it’s probably more of a whine, but you can’t tell for sure, not with how much your head is buzzing right now.

Hyun-Su obeys almost immediately, and you bury your head in his neck to muffle the groan that follows. You feel so good, so full, and he hasn’t even moved yet. You let yourself adjust, before giving him more instructions.

“You can— You can spread them open and— ah!— m-move them in and— Ah!”

Hyun-Su follows your advice diligently, and soon you no longer even have the strength to hold on to him, falling down onto your back with your whole body arching into his touch, following after him if he pulls out. It’s so, so fucking good, nothing you’ve ever done on your own can compare to this and you don’t know how you’ll be able to go back after that.

You’re gasping and writhing underneath him for you don’t know how long, and you’re so, so close to the edge, but you need— You just need something more, so you push yourself back up on your elbows, something harder than you’d think, when your muscles feel like jelly, and that’s when you realize that his hips are bucking against your leg. You hadn’t paid any attention to it, but now you see how obviously hard he is, and the small, almost shy movements of his hips as he ruts against you.

“Hyun-Su,” you call — you’re no longer paying attention to how your voice is coming out —, “here—”

You grab his wrist, and even if it means he pulls his hand out, something that immediately has your walls clenching around nothing at the loss, guide him so his fingers brush against your clit.

“There,” you whisper. “You can keep, uh, keep your fingers inside and— and touch me there, too.”

He nods, pushes the fingers back inside. There are a few seconds as he figures out how to best put his hand, and then when he strokes your clit with his thumb, you almost immediately lose it. You only have the presence of mind to lift your leg up, just a little, so it presses against his hard cock.

It’s his turn to freeze and to let out a moan then, one obviously surprised out of him.

“You should feel good too,” you manage to mumble through the haze of pleasure.

“But I— I want to make you feel—”

“We can both feel good,” you answer, and Hyun-Su just cannot resist kissing you again. It’s messy, tongues clashing together without much control, but fuck, he cannot explain or control the way he feels about you.

You come just a few moments later, waves of pleasure crashing through you all at once as his thumb circles your clit, fingers deep inside you, moving at a tranquil pace that lets you feel all of his movements inside you.

When you open your eyes again, he’s above you, staring at you lovingly.

“Good?” he asks.

Better than that.

“That was incredible,” you tell him though even that feels like an understatement. You love the way he obviously preens under your compliment. “But— But what about you? Didn’t you—”

You reach out, but he grabs your wrist before you can touch him.

“I, um, I’ve already—”

He’s turning bright red again, but you understand without another word. His jeans are still on, and you haven’t even actually touched him, and yet he still came in his pants, against your thigh, while fingering you.

Blood rushes to your face so fast you feel light-headed.

“Oh,” is all you can truly think to say. Then, shyly, “Want to go get cleaned up?”

“Together?” His voice is soft, questioning, but his eyes are in yours, comfortable instead of avoiding. You nod.

Later, you’re still in his arms, your back pressed against his chest, his face buried in your neck. And you, too, are comfortable.

There’s just something in the air, something fresh and sweet and familiar, and you think something you haven’t let yourself explore all that much, even if you’ve known, deep down, for a long time.

It just might be love.

and here we are! this one felt a lot smuttier to me than the previous part, but it was fun to write about this relationship in a less angsty way, too. maybe i should let them be happy a little more lol. anyway, i hope you liked it! next part probably won't be smut, but i don't know when it will be out. i have a new, time consuming internship that doesn't give me a lot of free time, so i don't know how much/when i'll have time to write. but i definitely have more stuff i want to write for this couple! so don't hesitate to comment and/or reblog to give me the motivation to write after work lol, and i'll also be answering my asks when i have time!

#sweet home #hyun su #cha hyun su #sweet home x reader #hyun su x reader #cha hyun su x reader #sweet home netflix #sweet home 2 #sweet home season 2 #cha hyunsoo #hyunsoo #cha hyunsoo x reader #hyunsoo x reader #sweet home smut #cha hyun su smut #hyun su smut #hyun su imagines #cha hyun su imagines #sweet home imagine #sweet home fanfic #my writing

[colleendoran]

Howdy

I'm under the weather right now, sitting up in bed, but I should be back at work tomorrow. It is heartening reading your kind notes and comments. The support for the Good Omens graphic novel is amazing.

I do feel tremendous pressure to make everyone happy, and I know that's not possible. Someone somewhere is not going to like this little detail, this creative decision, that costume. That's just the way it is, and it is 1000% even more intense because the fandom loves the story so much and they want what's best for it. And that's a good thing.

Naturally, my primary thoughts are making Neil Gaiman and the Terry Pratchett estate happy, and the chips will fall where they may elsewhere.

There are little changes I feel it is important to make, such as body language, as I need to be more expansive in a static medium like comics to convey life more than one would require in prose. So if someone is described as sitting, I am likely to have them get up and walk around.

Or not.

It depends.

Things in the show won't be in the book, because Gabriel, heaven and hell aren't depicted in the book.

But things in the book are in the graphic novel, like the Bikers of the Apocalypse, and trees growing uncontrollably, and a big pile of fish.

I sometimes feel a bit pecked at over it all, but who wouldn't.

But I also recognize I have a wonderful project to work on and I am so grateful for the enthusiasm and support.

I need to take some drugs, take a nap, and maybe I will have the energy for a little work in a couple of hours.

Take care.

#good omens graphic novel #good omens #neil gaiman #terry pratchett

[quickandsilvers]

Sick Day 🔥

Peter Maximoff x fem!reader SMUT

Summary: Reader has come down with an illness, so Peter decides its time to repay the favour and take care of her.

Warnings: Oral sex(fem), fingering, kissing, humping, mention of a sex toy, embarrassment on readers end, Peter being an annoying and yet also very adorable airhead

Word count: 5083

Taglist: @kaismanwich @evpeters87 (Let me know if you want to be added or removed!!)

A/N: im really happy with how this turned out, so im hoping anyone reading will enjoy it too.💕

A good night's sleep was tough enough to get as an Xmen.

Sleeping in went unbeknownst to you, with late nights on missions and grueling 6am training sessions, requiring you to be up and ready to go while everyone else slept lethargically in their rooms without a single care in the world.

This weekend was supposed to be your reprieve, no early mornings, no new work, just a chance to lie in and scoff as many cake snacks as possible until you grew nauseous. Or it should've been. This weekend was anything but.

Since it was a Friday night, and you’d just had a full day of lectures (courteous to Charles, of whom seemed to thrive off of your misery) you promised yourself that Saturday was the day you would crack on and do.. Well.. nothing.

Lying in bed, however, the probability of this happening seemed bleak. Dull, aching pain shot through your stomach intermittently, and the feeling of whole body numbness and nausea couldnt be shaken.

Whimpering and clutching at your stomach, you feebly use your powers to close your bedroom door. You would rather be caught stark naked running through Charles prized white rose bushes than be seen writhing in your bed like you were doing your best attempt of a caterpillar in the process of metamorphosis. You were very aware of Peter’s frequent roaming of the halls, knowing if he caught you in such a state you would never be able to live it down.

You felt weak. Insecure. A class four mutant and yet you succumbed to something as simple as a stomach ache and fever?

It was a fight to repress the pain. A fight you were in fact losing, and you weren’t sleeping because of it.

You weren't exactly sure how your sickness had flared up, but living in a mansion full of prepubescent kids that paid more attention to what was being served for lunch, rather than the basic hygiene and cleanliness standards made you less than surprised.

A glance at your phone. 2:37 AM. A sorry sign given that you’d gone to bed at quarter to twelve. With an exasperated huff you got up, instantly squatting to the ground to lessen the pain that was realized with it. Then, slowly, you maneuvered yourself into your bathroom, supporting your jittery hands on the countertop of your sink before looking into the mirror.

Holy shit, someone alert the authorities. Exorcism needed, stat. Pale faced skin, lidded eyes and disheveled hair greeted you like a slap in the face, only seeming to aid in your shitty mood.

Groaning, you trudged back into the confines of your bed, too lazy to attempt fixing whatever happened to your appearance and disappearing under the covers. You ignored the sweltering heat emitting off of your body, instead picking up your phone once more and dialing a number you knew off by heart.

As an adult, you should’ve been able to handle being sick on your own. But you still wanted to talk to Peter, at least let him know that you weren't feeling great. He owed it to you anyway, you reassured yourself, remembering his leg fracture after the Apocalypse battle, making you his personal assistant for the next two weeks.

A very, very long two weeks. Not that you minded too much, especially when aiding him in getting dressed in the morning, but you soon realized he was essentially just a giant toddler, with no sense of spatial awareness or consideration for your busy schedule.

Peter had somehow influenced you into sharing the same bed for the time his leg was broken, exaggerating the fact he might ‘roll off the bed and be confined to the floor like a turtle stuck on its back.’ His words, not yours.

You weren’t even sure if that was a plausible excuse. Nonetheless, it worked, and you spent the next while being laid upon as though he were a weighted blanket, his stifling speedster body heat having the same effect on you as a sauna.

That you could deal with until you discovered his tendency to constantly be moving around on the bed, even whilst sleeping. One time you woke up with your best friend sprawled out in a way you can only describe as a malfunctioned starfish, limbs stretched out in ways you didn't imagine were possible.

The morning after you made a satirical statement of tying Peter down to the bed to keep him still, only to instantaneously regret it after being met with wiggling eyebrows and a plethora of bondage jokes.

Snapping yourself out of your tranfix, you dial the number, not having to wait as Peter picked up before the first ring.

“Hey babe, what’s up?” He said. You could practically hear his grin from down the phone.

“Hey, are you busy?” You spoke the best you could, wincing at the voice crack you made.

“Geezz, what's up with you?” Peter snorted, and you could hear the faint buzz of his Mrs Pacman machine, telling you he was in his basement. “Yer mouth sexed a can of helium or what?”

Rolling your eyes, you cleared your throat, ignoring the burning sensation traveling through your trachea. “Shut up, Maxipad-'' you could hear his groan through the screen “i was gonna say that i'm just not feeling that good right now. Nothing terminal, was just gonna ask if you could stop by or someth-?”

A woosh sounded from your phone before the call ended, and with a fwip, Peter was standing in your bedroom.

With your half-lidded eyes you glanced up to see your best friend, clad in his million dollar man tee and the only pair of pants you’ve ever seen him wear, the dark metallic color almost black due to the lack of light in your bedroom.

Donning his signature grin hinted with a smidge of concern, Peter blew a section of his silvery hair out of his face before his chocolate eyes locked onto yours. Peter titled his head in amusement, snorting at what you could only assume was your current state of appearance.

Before you could come up with a witty remark, a cough attack silenced your words, making you lean into a sitting position and struggle for breath. When it was over, you noticed Peter now standing on your left with his grin replaced with blatant concern, handing you a glass of water he seemed to have just magically pulled out of his ass.

You eyed the glass, your throat thirsty and parched, but suspicious over the unusual act of care.

“Did you spit in it?” You ask hoarsley, although accepting the drink.

“Please, i’m not that much of an airhead.” Peter argued, laughing at your deadpan gaze. “Besides, it’s not me who you should be worried about. We both know Scott is the most diseased out of all of us.”

“You're still hung up on that?” You barked in laughter before sputtering at the wave of pain sent through your throat.

A few weeks prior, the mansion held a birthday celebration for Kurt, where Scott had one too many to drink. The night ended with your friend sprawled out in a nearby bush outside the mansion, hurling into what poor Scott drunkenly believed was a bag.

The bag in question? Peter’s silver jacket.

“It was my only one!” Peter whined, “they don’t make ‘em anymore!”

You covered your laugh with your hand, knowing Peter’s beloved jacket was a sensitive topic. Although, you made a mental note to find a jacket as similar to his as possible, knowing that the speedsters birthday was just around the corner.

“I’m sure you’ll live.” You smiled, before furrowing your brows as you watched Peter rustling around your cupboards.

“I’m looking for some cough sweets” Peter remarked as he continued to rummage through your things, sensing your confusion. “-for your throat”

You nodded, pointing to a pair of drawers on the opposite side of where you were laying in bed. “Bedside table drawer.” Fwip.

Whilst focusing on adjusting your position into a comfortable one, you could hear the sound of the drawer being pulled open, the rustling indicating Peter’s fumbling.

A half-minute later, you find a comfy spot and turn towards Peter, the background noises coming to a stop and his voice speaking up.

“Found i- oh, hel-lo.” He whistled.

“Did you find the cough sweets?” You asked. Studying his gaze, you wrinkled your nose in puzzlement as Peter stared into the drawer, a wide grin forming on his flushed face.

From knowing Peter since the Xmen formed in ‘83, you recognised this smirk from anywhere, identifying it from when Peter teases you about something. Which of course, is constantly.

“What?” You turn to throw a blanket over yourself before looking back. As you do, you see Peter staring at you with a wicked smile, an arched eyebrow and-

Fuck.

Your silver vibrator in his hand.

Your eyes get impossibly wide and your jaw goes slack in a combination of surprise and pure horror. You completely forgot about that thing, being so busy with missions and training meant that you hadn’t had the time to kick back and relax like you used to do.

The realization that the vibrator was silver, your best friend's infamous signature color, only added to your embarrassment. How were you gonna dig yourself out of this one?

Peter’s grin only gets wider at the comical realization on your face. A few moments of silence and, as if you had been cured miraculously, you scrambled towards him, kneeling upon the bed so that you were only just in line with his twinkling eyes.

Peter snickered as you got closer, drawing the vibrator closer to his chest, almost possessively.

“A vibrator, huh?” He confirms in that annoying tone you had got to know so well. The tone that makes you want to sink into the ground and be one with the soil, no conscience or memory of the situation you are facing.

“That’s something personal, give it back.” You point out, sharp and firm. You extend your hand, waiting for Peter to give you the vibrator, but of course, you remain ignored. “Don’t get cocky about it. The color choice was a coincidence.”

Peter smiles lopsidedly and glances down at you. “I wasn’t sayin’ it was, babe.. But now you’ve got me thinkin’..” He ponders, quirking one of his eyebrows again and waving the silicone in the air mockingly, his thumb resting on the button of the vibrator keenly.

“It was the only color left in stock.” Liar.

Noticing his disbelieving gaze and cocky smirk, you know that you are just digging yourself a bigger hole. You grit your teeth, darting your hand out to try and grab your toy but to not avail, it doesn’t seem like he was giving it back anytime soon.

That annoys you more than it would if it was anyone else, but it's Peter, the most childlike, insufferable, annoying jerk you had ever had a silly crush on passionate hatred for.

You step closer to once more grab your embarrassing secret, but Peter yanks it down and hides it behind his back gleefully. You can't stop that quick move, but you manage to grab Peter by the bicep and push him back and against the bedside table.

You realize that you are now standing really close to him; one side of your body is pressed against Peter’s and you can even feel his tickling breath on your face. Peter stares at you with that twisted, amused look for a few more seconds before he starts blabbering again.

“I guess that you're more of a naughty chick than I was thinkin’, huh?” He speaks in a weird, yet somehow seductive, low voice.

A high-speed buzz trembled next to your ear and you turn, only for your eyes to set on the vibrator Peter was clutching, the silicone moving in rapid motion as he fiddled with the settings.

“This surely ain’t the fastest it can go?” Peter asked rhetorically, and you noticed as his teasing expression switched, as if he were struck dumb with surprise. “Pretty lame if you ask me babe.”

You clench your jaw as you felt the heat rising to your cheeks, the suggestive undertone from his words not going unnoticed by you. You fight against it, not wanting to blush and give Peter more satisfaction.

Another ego boost you fear may be fatal, but you can't help it; your cheeks turning crimson. Peter notices and giggles, nibbling the side of his lip.

“Ya know yer look totally bitchin’ when yer blushing?” He says coyly, and that comment only makes your blush intensify, however you refuse to back down. Nothing you do can bring you back from an endless lifetime of teasing hanging over your head.

“Stop that,” you say harshly, albeit shakily “And give me the vi-.. Just give it back,” Your nose wrinkles at the mere word, embarrassed to come to terms with what your best friend has found in your drawer. You tug Peter’s arm, harder this time, but he doesn't relinquish.

“Yer want it back?” he teases and you know exactly what's coming next. “Then come get it,” Peter pulls back his arm. Fwip. He stands confidently at the other side of your bedroom. You groan. “Why do you always have to act like this?!” You yell, exasperated but not surprised, feebly running after him.

Peter is now standing in the middle of your bathroom with a shit-eating grin and the vibrator dangling in his hand, joyfully inspecting the streaks of silver running along it.

You can only imagine what he is thinking in this moment, the thought of you spread out on your bed, thrusting your toy in and out at a steady pace, soft whimpers and praises of his name squeaking out of you. Peter’s cock twitched at the mere thought.

“Come on babe, if you want it back, you have to fight for it,” he goads, waving the vibrator right in your face.

That's it, you have to stop this now.

You throw yourself against Peter and you both fall back onto the bed. You struggle for a moment and the speedster is giggling the whole time, evidently amused by the situation. He surely loves torturing you like this and the thought of that makes you feel even angrier and struggle harder.

You keep trying to yank his right arm, but Peter pushes you back and hides the hand that's holding the vibrator behind his back once more, sporting a borderline malicious grin.

“What, babe? Are yer gonna give up now?” He teases with an evil smirk that makes you lose it again. You push him forward and manage to make him fall back in the bed. Then you get on top of him, straddling Peter as a way to keep him from moving, but the effort seems to be futile as he keeps shifting under you; his head ducked in the hollow of your neck and one of his hands holding you back by the hip.

After a moment, he stops struggling and you realize that Peter is breathing heavily. You can feel his warm breath brushing the side of your neck and you notice that your own breathing is hitching too.

You pull back, observing Peter's devil gaze. In record time, literally, Peter flipped your positions, his hands snaking into yours as he holds them either side of your head. You stay quiet, glancing up at your best bud and awaiting his next move.

Glancing down at your lips, Peter’s tongue protrudes as he swipes it across his own, chest heaving in excitement. “If yer gave me the chance, babe?” His words were sincere and low.

“I could take real good care of ya.” Peter’s now dark gaze looks up and bores into your own, emphasizing his words in a way that had you needing him already.

You gulped as your breath hitched, your legs involuntarily rubbing together for friction. Arousal seeped from your entrance, beginning to soak your panties, being concealed only by the oversized sleep shirt you had over you.

If Peter had this effect on you with just his words, you wondered how you would survive with him balls deep inside. The thought alone made your thighs quake.

You weren’t stupid. You were very aware of Peter’s dating history and his tendency to ‘get around.’ But could you blame him? With the power to move any part of his body at mind bogglingly rapid speeds, you were surprised that there wasn’t a line of women outside his dorm room each night, cash in hand.

Peter was a respectful lover, of course, making it known his intentions from the get-go, but you couldn’t help but feel insecure from the inexperience you had against him. You weren’t a virgin, but you absolutely weren’t experienced either.

Peter felt your legs quivering as he looked down, fighting against the Gods themselves to not moan at the sight before him. Your baggy shirt had lifted up during the tussle, revealing your lace panties, wet from your arousal. His own cock leaked in response, and Peter looked back up, awaiting your response.

He was Peter. Your Peter; and you trusted him wholeheartedly.

“Really?”

“Scout’s honor, babe.” Peter grinned, holding up four fingers. He wasn’t a scout, nor was he holding up the right amount of fingers, but that was enough for you.

Smiling, you nodded, and Peter’s nervous facade dropped instantly as a teasing smirk adorned his features. He sat up to pull his shirt over his head in one swift motion, then leant back down to meet you in a passionate kiss.

Your lips parted instantly, allowing his tongue to explore your mouth while his fingers found the hem of your shirt, sliding up until the pads of his fingers tickled and grazed your waist. Peter hummed in content, enjoying the slight jolts your body made in reaction to his soft touches.

Sliding his hand along your spine, your back arched, allowing Peter to pull you up into a sitting position and gently take off your shirt. Once the material was discarded on the floor and you were left in just your panties, Peter grinned like a schoolboy at the sight of your bare chest, watching your nipples gradually harden from the exposure to the cold air.

A low groan rumbled from the back of his throat as he leant forward to blow cool air on your tits briefly, making you whimper and curl your hands into his unbelievably soft hair that you were impossibly jealous of.

He leaned back quickly to remove his shirt, discarding it in the general direction where he threw yours.

Peter’s focus moved back to your face, taking you in another sweet kiss as his chest collided with yours. The warmth between your bodies was comforting, especially when Peter pressed them together and pulled back from the kiss to travel back down. He kissed down the valley of your breasts, moving to the underside with an unsuspecting nip, making you gasp and clutch onto his hands.

Your eyes closed as Peter worked on your chest, nipping, licking and sucking the both of them, leaving a trail of marks that showed your belonging to him. When his soft touches subsided, you opened your eyes, only to be met with Peter’s dark ones and a smirk gracing his pinkish lips.

You were about to question him on why he stopped before he shushed you and tilted his head teasingly.

“Be honest with me, babe. Yer bought that vibrator with me in mind.” Peter smiled cheekily as you flushed once more, shaking your head in denial.

“It was just a big coincid-” you stopped mid sentence as your best friend quirked his eyebrow, disbelief coating his expression. You sighed.

“I guess.. It might've been at the back of my mind..” you mumbled almost inaudibly, averting your gaze due to the sheer embarrassment of admitting your dirty secret to the very last person you intended to tell.

Peter mockingly leaned closer towards you, cupping his ear with his hand as if it were impaired. “I’m sorry, babe, couldn’t hear yer there. What did ya say?” You glared at him, only making him laugh and continue with the gesture until you did what he wanted.

“Okay- fine! Yes, it was about you. Don’t be gettin’ so cocky about it, alright?” You admitted, exasperated.

Peter snickered jovially, his chest puffing out in show that your words had already given him the ego boost he was craving for. You could barely revel in your humiliation before you gasped, a buzzing emitting from your clit that made you writhe in a frenzy.

“All yer had to do was tell me the where and when, babe.” Peter grinned, gazing at your blissful expressions as the pads of his fingers pressed deeper into your clit, making you rock your hips into his hand. “Yer don’t need that toy when ya have the living, breathing, undoubtedly sexier thing.” You failed to answer, instead nodding vigorously and whimpering.

The buzzes came to an abrupt stop as his hands slid back out of your soaking panties, and you whined at the loss of contact, humping the air to gain some sort of friction to keep you going.

Peter snickered beside you, a comment about how needy you were for him going unnoticed by you as you whined for his touch.

You gripped onto his hands tight, gasping as Peter once more began kissing down your chest, but this time passing your breasts and moving down your stomach, peppering kisses along the way.

“Your skin is so fuckin’ soft,” Peter groaned, grabbing your thighs with a “c’mere” and pulling you towards him “what typa baby powder are yer usin’, huh?” His voice blabbered on and you let out a sound that was between a chuckle and a moan, your chest heaving as you awaited his heavenly touches.

Hooking your aching legs over his shoulders, Peter reached for the strap of your underwear, his fingers hooking underneath and sliding them off. You could faintly hear the fumble of the material, unknowing that Peter had shoved your wet panties in his trouser pocket.

One of his hands reached upwards to join with yours again, giving you the added reassurance that you would be okay and safe with him.

Your mind completely dissociated from anything other than him as Peter parted your sticky folds with his tongue, sliding the wetness up until he reached the other end. He giggled into your core, making you furrow your brows in confusion but shiver at the vibrations rippling through you.

“I was thinkin’.. It just reminded me of that old guy parting the seas.” Peter chuckled, and your head lifted up to look at your best friend in pure shock. ”What was his name? Monty? Moses? Moses! It was Moses.”

The Fuck?

“You seriously cannot be quoting the bible whilst eating me out, Peter.” You couldn’t believe what he just said. He couldn’t have been the furthest from sexy in this moment, and yet your body was still trembling from anticipation and want. You laid back down, chuckling from the irony and utter bullshit Peter spew out.

“Sorry, sorry.” Peter grimaced, cringing at his own actions “not the time.” Letting out a breath of hot air that hit your center, you gasped, immediately forgetting about what just occurred.

Peter dove in fully this time, leaving you almost no time to prepare as his tongue swirled around your slick in a way that had you clawing at your interlocked hands, gripping Peter so tightly you feared you may be cutting off his circulation.

Your body jolted uncontrollably, and using his other hand, Peter pressed it against your stomach to cease your movements, your skin burning up underneath his touch.

The bed rocked underneath you, not only from your involuntary movements but from the relentless thrusts Peter made on the bed, his cock hardening from your squeaks and moans that he was creating. He humped the bed, groaning into your core, only adding in the stimulation and pleasure, taking you to the brink of screaming so loud that Ororo could be able to hear you from the other side of the mansion.

Peter’s nose tickled your clit as he lapped at your heat, giving you that extra stimulation that took you where you needed to get faster. Your breathing quickened as you felt a finger penetrate through your folds and fully into you, making you gasp and clench, begging him to just move. Move.

The mix of his tongue flicking and buzzing your clit and his now two fingers pumping you in and out sent you into a frenzy, your moans only spurring Peter on, taking him to the edge of his own release.

The only thing you could think about was Peter and the exhilarating pleasure that he was providing you. You seized up as if you were in fear his actions would stop altogether, burning pressure building inside of you to the point you felt like you might explode.

With a curl of his fingers against a particularly spongy spot inside of you, you cried out Peter’s name as your back arched expertly off the bed, blazing intense bliss shooting out from your core and spraying the mattress, your thighs and Peter’s face.

Crying out once more in pure euphoria, your back hit the bed as you spasmed, Peter’s tongue working you through your orgasm.

Breathing heavily, you shuddered as Peter’s fingers slid out of you, a trail of your sticky release coating his digits. He all but moaned at the sight, arousal pooling in his belly as he unconsciously jutted his hips forward once more, seeking and finding the contact for his rock hard erection that was painfully constricted in the tight confines of his pants.

After a few more sharp thrusts, a filthy moan came out from Peter, his mouth forming a perfect ‘o’ shape and thick ropes of hot cum spilling into his underwear.

As your high came to an end Peter moved to kneel above you, putting his slick-covered fingers into his mouth and closing his eyes, humming at the taste. You didn’t even have the strength to utter out thanks to Peter, watching him tiredly as he wiped his chin of arousal.

He leant down briefly to kiss the inside of both your quivering thighs before laying them down to rest against the mattress.

Humming a low chuckle at your blissed out state, Peter took you into a delicate kiss, the taste of yourself and the heat of your altercation invading your senses. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, pulling away after short intervals for air.

“Well?” he said, tucking a sweaty strand behind your ear.

“Well what?”

“Was it better than the vibrator?” Peter smirked, leaving wet kisses and hickies along your jawline that your peers would surely question about tomorrow.

You let out a few breaths, still struggling to come to terms with the fact that you just fucked your bestfriend.

“I think you know the answer to that, Peter.” You breathed lightly as his hair tickled your cheeks. He grinned against the skin of your neck, encouraging a tired smile of your own to break out.

He then sat up promptly, adorning a mischievous smile before using his speed to grab the vibrator, you watching him with wide eyes.

You thought he had the intentions for a second round, but you were dumbfounded as he sped over to your balcony, stepping outside and using his speed to throw the toy as far as a speedster deemed possible.

“Peter!!” You screeched, jumping out and quickly pulling on his tee, of which thankfully covered your bare bottom half, running up to the balcony and staring into the vast darkness. “That was mine, you airhead! You have to get it back!”

“It didn’t even work that well, princess.” Peter promptly shrugged at his actions, bending down to throw you over his shoulder. You screech once more, flinging your arms about in an attempt to cover your bare lower half, a string of obscenities leaving your sore throat.

He threw you onto the bed under the covers, disappearing for a nanosecond to clean up and then reappearing, wearing a sweatshirt and sleeping pants. Peter crawled under with you, nuzzling into your neck contently as if he hadn’t just lobbed your expensive toy to the other side of the continent.

You scoffed, pushing against his head. “I can’t believe you’ve actually just done that.”

Still unrelenting, Peters warm hands slowly rubbed up and down your thigh, as if trying to hypnotize you into sleep. “No regrets,” he grinned, voice slightly muffled as his breath hit your neck “besides, yer have me now babe.”

“Really?” You looked up at the ceiling in shock, not even thinking about what all this actually meant. “Like, as a couple?”

Peter nodded gleefully, moving his head away to look up at you with tousled hair and droopy eyes. “Just imagine, i can be your strong, handsome, ladies man, dreamy, seductive, great music taste, badass boyfriend that you can show off to all friends and family.” You laughed at his dreamy sigh, caressing your fingers into his hair.

“Seductive?” You question, your teasing smirk letting him know you were only joking around. “I would hardly compare you to Patrick Swayze.”

Peter gasped overdramatically, his hand quickly removing itself from your thigh, clenching it by his chest as if he were heartbroken. “Babe, have you seen my smoulder? The chicks faint at the sight.” You turn to look at him, only to see him adorning a quirked eyebrow and a theatrical smoulder not-so-gracefully embellishing his face.

You snort, using the hand in his hair to push Peter’s head back into your neck.

“The fact you just referred to women as ‘chicks’ only proves my point, Maxipad.” You say after a brief pause, only to be met with light snoring as Peter’s eyes closed, his arms wrapped around your middle and legs intertwined with your own.

You bit your lip from cheerfulness, relishing in the moment as your arms curl up by his chest, comforted by the heat radiating off his body.

It was the same cuddling as when his leg was broken, only the air had changed to that of intimacy, a warm buzzing feeling in your chest.

So yes, you had found something to do this weekend.

#peter maximoff #quicksilver #evan peters #xmen #evan peters masterlist #james patrick march #peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff fluff #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff smut #xmen peter maximoff #xmen days of future past #xmen headcanon #xmen quicksilver #xmen apocalypse

[ellewriteswrongs]

everyone gets why reginald shut klaus out of the portal in ep9, right??

I keep seeing people mentioning the scene without pointing this out and personally it was obvious to me (and my dad who I watched with lol) that ~someone~ was going to get left behind no matter what but idk if that translated for everyone so……prepare for Long Post Time

when reginald mentions the fables at the beginning of the episode, there’s a strong emphasis on there being 7 of everything, go figure lol. it goes to show that with the sparrows, he most likely could’ve adopted them too in s1 but he didn’t because he specifically wanted seven of the kids. each story he reads off requires exactly seven, no more and no less.

the group starts off with nine; six umbrellas, plus ben, sloane, and lila. two too many.

when the vote backfired on him, he does precisely as he tells luther before he kills him—only a death can be powerful enough to bring them all together to do something none of them want to do. in s1 none of them wanted to fight together again, but because they came back for the funeral they couldn’t avoid trying to stop the apocalypse. it didn’t have to be luther, he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. any one of them could’ve been killed in his place, it was simply convenient. if one of them hadn’t gone to the buffalo room on their own, he probably just would’ve used allison’s deal to get her to come in there and kill her instead.

but of course, that leaves us with one more to go.

because reginald makes no effort to hold any particular character to the back of the group as they enter the tunnel, he clearly doesn’t care who he has to leave behind, but rather that the number of people that makes it through is all that matters. I’m convinced he didn’t care that it wound up being klaus that was left even though reginald knew about his powers. if he had been absorbed by the kugelblitz with everything else, he wouldn’t have been dead he would’ve ceased to have ever existed. no afterlife, just *poof* out of existence.

but as usual, klaus is smarter than reginald, or anyone else including himself, gives him credit for. he knew if he died before he disappeared, he’d wind up in the afterlife, which is easy to assume klaus had figured out as the entire world population would’ve wound up as ghosts if getting kugelblitzed truly was the same thing as dying. hence why he knew to kill himself before the kugelblitz had the chance to wipe him out.

despite what he said before he shut the door, it wasn’t just because he thought klaus would get in the way of the plan, it’s because he objectively would. he needed a way to ensure that once they were all being drained of their powers, no one would be left free to stop him from resetting the universe to his own specifications, a-la allison.

he needed seven, no more no less, but he just happened to underestimate his son for the last time in the process.

#also klaus using his dying strength to bring luther back to save sloane??? they are the best brothers to each other I swear #their relationship is everything to me #tua #tua s3 spoilers #tua spoilers #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #umbrella academy spoilers #luther hargreeves #klaus hargreeves

[oozedninjas]

Blame the Chemicals in the Mind

Summary: Mad scientist!Donnie discovers he has developed twisted, unwanted feelings toward his best experimentation specimen.

A/N: General verses, but I placed something about each version of Donnie, let's see if you can find it! Also, I heavily kept in mind 2012verse and Bayverse for some reason? Anyway, this will have multiple parts but it can be read as a one-chapter thing too :)

Please do not spam like. Reblogs are appreciated! ♡

Warnings: NSFW / DARK CONTENT/ smut/fem!Reader/ after the kraang apocalypse/Donatello and reader are both mid to late twenties /dub-con/eventual Yandere topics/experimentation/torture/blood and violence/trauma bonding/Stockholm syndrome/blood extraction/panic attack (reader's)/twisted hurt-comfort/between-the-lines humiliation/ mentions of the use of a feeding probe/sensorial overstimulation and deprivation/ Regarding smut: humping/creampie/DUB-CON/ dead dove do not eat

This is 18+ dark content. If you click on keep reading you have agreed you want to read this content.

His ever-present gaze penetrated the tank's glass, fixating on your orbs. It was a constant company, greeting you upon waking— whether immersed in the computer's screen a few paces ahead or absorbed in a stress ball he kept in hand to stimulate his thoughts. He consistently stared, as if that alone could propel him closer to a cure for the three monstrous things that so closely resembled him. 

Donatello observed them through the fortified cells he constructed, initially intended as a security measure. He sighed deeply. The laboratory never felt as desolate as it did now, as if hopelessness swept through, resonating through his body. Gradually, despair eroded small fragments of his sanity, leaving nothing more than a faint echo of who he used to be.

He needed to find a cure soon. And so he pinched, tugged, injected, and inflicted upon your body a distinct form of torment every day. Each one an inch closer. However, despite your best judgment, you lacked the strength to keep on resenting him.

Exhausted from enduring numerous stings and side effects, your brain, perhaps as a survival mechanism, clung to words of reaffirmation. Praise. Approbation. Plaudits. They seemed to breathe sanity back into your inner self, preventing your poor state of mind from sinking deeper into the dark.

Such an exquisite test subject!

So remarkably compliant and subdued, aren't you?

I'll create an antidote, and they'll be back, and it'll be thanks to you.

You seem unwell today.

His voice was distant from under the water but he sounded somehow concerned. "Let's take the day off. You can't die just yet. Finding others like you is proving increasingly challenging."

You didn't want him to ignore you for the rest of the day. You wished he wouldn't. You could endure a slight pinch if it meant feeling something. Lately, the increasing sensory isolation was becoming more and more nerve-wracking. You must have wished too fervently, for just as he had not entirely turned away, the power abruptly ran out.

Donatello gasped. The blue light of your tank framed his face. A menace, yet fixable. The hitch: replacing the lab's battery required using the one in your tank. Both were designed with separate energies after an incident— an unfortunate electrocution during a short-circuit caused by an electric storm. Test subject 83q1q didn’t make it.

The wisest course of action was to empty the tank, replace the battery, and secure you elsewhere until he could find a new one. Your body throbbed with tickles of anxiety and anticipation upon noticing his intent.

As it drained, you descended to the bottom of it. He opened its side, causing all the tubes to tilt down. Donatello pulled them off. You inhaled as soon as he unplugged them from your throat. A coughing fit almost broke your rib cage right after a sharp, reckless gasp for air.

An overwhelming sensation hovered over you. Abruptly, everything was too much. Too much air, too rough floor, too much pressure on your skull, too loud— You can't breathe. You're choking. Your ears are beeping. Someone's screaming. You can't breathe, you can't breathe, you can’t— He's touching you. You tensed. Would he return you to the tank? Where's the needle? The last time he touched you, there was a needle, or something sharp, and it hurt. You brace yourself. 

Donatello began making even circles over your bare back.

"Deep breaths," he said. His voice sounded different. Steadier, warmer. "Follow my own, here," he pressed your hand to his plastron. His inhalations were even, soothing.

"That's right, you're doing well—maintain your focus right here."

Your view briefly smeared your palm over his chest before properly adjusting. Your head pulsed as if your skull rejected your brain. Your mind was a jumble of many things barely held together. But you’re breathing, you’re alive, nothing hurts.

"Well done. Now, tell me five things about yourself," he asked.

The piercing cold scraped your bones like long-stirred claws. Nothing hurts, not quite much.

"My name is Donatello,” he began to set an example. “I am a scientist. I aim to fix the Kraang predicament. I like purple,” he paused, realizing there was nothing more about him worth mentioning. Then, against logical reasoning, he added: “I miss my brothers.”

Squatting, embracing your naked, soaked silhouette in a failed attempt to stop shivering, you listened; forcing yourself to clutch onto his voice, scarcely discerning his words but making the effort. On the verge of giving up on obtaining an answer, Donatello motioned back. Your nails dug into his plastron just then. He tensed.

“My name is—” your voice quivered, mind spinning, searching. You told him. “Chest… hurts. Head, hurts. I’m cold.” Your weakling tone disturbed you, hoarse, broken, reduced to a raspy mutter. “I’m… alone.”

You were unexpectedly a jarring mirror he reflected in. Donatello tilted his head, musing.

"Well done. It wasn't so hard, was it?" he articulated, displacing your hand. "Now come here, you ought to wait inside the cell until the battery is efficiently substituted and operational—I still need to find another to power the tank, though.” he added between his teeth, more to himself than to you. “Anyway, be glad, you'll rest," he finished, offering you a towel.

You took it, hesitantly. Soft, cold fingers brushing with rough, calloused ones. Donatello retracted his hand upon the brief contact. For half a second, he seemed misplaced. Something shifted thereafter. As if the lab’s loneliness somehow extinguished just by having another breath residing there. As days elapsed, he worked diligently to replace the burnt pieces and connect the battery. This task, which would have taken only a few hours with all the needed resources, was now hindered by the aftermath of the world nearly ending. 

You braced yourself every time he approached your space, yet, pain never came with him. Instead, there was something, something more, something close to a kindle glimpse of a strange fascination. Donatello couldn't grasp why, but he started bringing you food instead of using the feeding probe.

“I help bring them back,” you said one fine day, after long contemplating the scattered photographs of four turtles attired in different colors, enjoying life before the apocalypse.

The sound of the welder stopped, as did the sparks that created different patterns of light around. He looked at you, understanding that it was not a reiteration of your role; it was an express wish, a genuine interest, as if you actually had a saying on the matter. It was, in a way, touching.

“Yes, you will,” he paused briefly, contemplating for the first time going slightly out of his way to give you something. But what? Perhaps something to wear? No, keeping you naked meant you wouldn't dare to set foot outside. It had to be something else, something more.

Donatello pondered for half a heartbeat before pulling the protective lenses up.  “Hey, on a scale of one to ten, how cold would you rate your cell?”

***

The day came when he finished fixing the lights. The sudden brightness forced a hiss out of you, too sharp. He adjusted it, toning it down to a level you could bare. He found an extra battery as well, which meant you would return to the tank. You would hurt again, but it’s fine; he gave you purpose. He fed and warmed you, and listened to you. He gave you gentle head pats— 

He’s good. 

He doesn’t care if he hurts you.

It’s alright. He gave you purpose. 

He doesn’t care if you cry.

He keeps you warm.

Donatello took some blood samples, followed by platelets, in between a couple more tests. You felt dizzy jumping off the chair, narrowly holding on to the edge of the table so as not to slam against the floor. The tank light loomed over you. Bit by bit, you gestured towards the two-meter cylindrical vessel, your heart rate suddenly plummeting. The dreadful prospect of sensory deprivation gnawed at your insides. Your breaths became erratic, resonating loudly in your ears, and the sensation of blood swirling in the pit of your stomach heightened. You won't feel, you won't eat, you will hurt. You can't breathe. You gasp for air. It’s alright, it’s alright-

"I was thinking..." Donatello's voice cut through the oppressive atmosphere, and you clung to the sound as if it were a lifeline. "Since you've behaved— what if I don't send you back in the tank? What if you stay here a bit longer?"

You turned, your eyes widening in astonishment. 

"Would you like that?" he asked, not facing you, an awkwardness in his demeanor, as if it were the first time in his life he had asked for company.

"Yes," you gasped.

***

You couldn't pinpoint when it happened, but it didn't matter. You lay on his lap, resting as he worked, your body bare, absorbing the warmth of the room he had carefully heated for you. You cherished the rare moments he allowed you this close to him, savoring the seconds of feeling human once again through simple acts like cuddling. It made the aching in your body subside a smidgen.

The embrace elicited subtle signs of contentment, slowly fading into gasps, later morphing into moaning. His breath hitched upon hearing them. Donatello wasn't the best at navigating feelings. But these sensations were not exactly that. They couldn’t be. No, it was more like a palpitation triggering a primal response to your scent, your warmth, and the gentle quiver in your voice.

He scoffed. Deep thought on the matter didn’t change that his cock throbbed with each breath rolling off your mouth. He tried to shake the heat of his head, but why? Why should he resist? There was no purpose for not indulging. In fact, it could be beneficial.

He let his hand travel across your back. His touch made you shudder. He puffed, a nerdy sound he hadn’t heard himself make since the first time he watched a porn video. 

“Come,” he said, tugging you to sit upright.

You raised your head from the crook on his neck to face him. “To the operating room?”

“No, just here,” he muttered.

Donatello adjusted you over the lower half of his plastron before reclining the chair back. Your nude pussy pressed upon its wetness. He groaned. Warm fingertips clung to the upper sides of his shell, seeking balance. He stroked your hair. You waited. Nothing hurt.

Donatello placed both hands over your love handles, moving you back and forth so your cunt rubbed over his needy slit. It throbbed, his hard cock soon to emerge from it. He whimpered, breath hitching when you followed his lead, hypnotized by the exquisite friction over your clit. A few more humps and it came out, pulling a deep growl from him. You looked in astonishment as it rose against your abdomen. tick, long and glistening in a creamy transparent liquid. Your inner thighs soon soaked in it. Nothing hurts, no…, in fact- it’s good. Fuck, so good. You sighed, unable to stop grinding over his newly released member, absolutely thriving in the delicious way it numbed everything into bliss. 

Donatello’s head fell backward. His mouth curved slightly at the corners in a somewhat twisted smile of enjoyment. His earnest, soft moaning mingled with yours feverishly. 

“That’s so hot— I want more, I want to be in you, I know you’re so warm inside,” his voice was desperate, drunken-like. 

In one motion, Donatello pulled you up. Your back hit the cold desk. You sensed the keyboard under your head. It hurt. You snap back, eyes open wide. He grabbed your waist. Six strong fingers kept you in place as he lined with you. You puff, suddenly tensing.

"You want it too, right? In theory, it should feel good. You're too wet for it not to, don't worry, you've been good. It won't hurt." 

The question lingered. You don't know. You don't want to hurt. Would he be angry if you forced him to stop? Could you do that? Would he put you back in the tank? You're dizzy. 

He moved the tip of his cock along your soaked cunt, focusing on your soft nub, making circles over it. Your legs opened wider in response. His voice quivered as he whimpered, yours followed. You clenched around nothing. 

"You're not saying no, are you?" he panted. "So I assume you must want to, right?" 

Your hole stretches with his size sliding in. You groan, dragging your nails over the desk. 

"Ah— it hurts! It hurts!" you blurt out. 

"Bear it. The ache isn't supposed to- last too long. It'll feel good once you get used to it. You're good, you can bear it, you ca-nm,"

His body steamed, and his mind burnt with it, slowly melting the last drops of rational thinking. "You're so tight," he thrust once, twice, and thrice. 

You reached for him, clinging to his quivering voice, his praise, his— fuck he's so deep in you. his pace knocks your breath out. It hurts. It fills you so well. It hurts. Feels hot. His moves are steady, building heat in your belly. Pain's giving out. You clench around him, sucking him deeper. 

Donatello jerked forward, mouth gaping, eyes shutting. Both forearms held him up over the desk. He was now close enough for you to embrace him, so you clamped one hand to his shell and the other to his shoulder. Both legs hugged him near. With each new thrust your clit rubbed to his plastron sending waves of volts through your veins. 

"Yes," you breathed, barely above your own moaning.

Donatello grinned, "I knew you liked it,”

“Yeah—ah, faster, harder,” you pleaded, head thrown back as he fucked you.

He granted. Making his pace even crueler. His content smile never faded. 

“Your little cunt loves this so much! I can feel you squeezing me so tight, fuck, such a good testing subject, about to be my favorite cumdump.” 

Your muscles tensed in anticipation, the heat in your core about to burst. The sound of wet skin slapping reached your ears as your toes curled. 

His breath staggered as he spoke. "Ah- I can't stop. I'm coming, fuck, yes, yes-mnn," 

The hot loads filled you all the way to your womb. You embraced him, his ragged breath right in your ear. He enjoyed it, you did good, all feels right, more, more— You came with a loud moan, sweet pulsations carried the bliss from your belly through your temples, melting you.

He stayed still for a while, holding you in his arms, absorbing the warmth from your body. You both descended from the high together. Your scent mingled with his own, and for a fleeting moment, something tingled within him—the creeping onset of a feeling. He scoffed. It meant nothing. What are feelings if not chemicals in the mind, fueling instincts? 

"Go clean yourself up," he instructed, letting off your legs. "We still have some tests for the day."

#dark content #tw dark content #dub con #dark fic #tmnt dark content #tmnt x reader #tmnt 2007 #tmnt 2k16 #tmnt 2012 #tmnt smut #tmnt dark turtles #tmnt evil donnie #evil donnie #tmnt 2016 #tmnt bayverse donnie #tmnt donatello #tmnt bayverse #tmnt x you #tmnt x reader smut #tmnt x y/n #bayverse tmnt x reader #2007 tmnt x reader #tmnt 2007 x reader #tmnt donnie #tmnt 2012 x reader #tmnt donnie x reader #tmnt 2012 donatello #donatello hamato #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic

[letters-unsending]

No. 47

////

Hero only wakes in times of crisis and will not sleep until the problem is resolved. Hero and Villain teamed up to vanquish Villain and they win, but Hero is still awake.

////

“Goodnight,” Villain murmured.

The statement was perfunctory—they’d spoken it to Hero almost every night throughout war, but it was different now. Back then, he’d said it while pushing aside a fold of their tent with his arm. Hero would nod at him from across a candlelit table, still poring over maps and penning down strategy, and Villain would know, without a doubt, that he would find Hero in the same place the following morning.

However, they occupied Supervillain’s castle now. Hero reviewed charters and laws instead of war plans.

“You can rest,” Villain offered, eyeing the papers in Hero’s hand.

Hero glanced up at Villain. From his lifted pen, a bead of ink dripped, oozing darkly onto the topmost page.

“I need to see the city settled before…I rest.”

“No, I didn’t mean that kind of rest. I just meant,” Villain gestured in the air, leaning his temple into the doorframe, “you can relax now. I don’t know when you have to go, but I thought, maybe, you could enjoy the peace for a while.”

“I am not made for peace, [Villain].” Hero lifted the paper before the stain could seep through and set it aside. “I will have my rest soon. And this work, it is of no consequence to me.”

“You’re exhausted, [Hero].” Ever since they’d vanquished Supervillain, Hero’s power had flagged. His tireless facade waned into shaking hands and short breaths; the only work he could manage anymore was desk work. And so they’d labored side by side, discussing edicts and decrees. “I think—I think you’ve needed to rest for a long time now.”

Hero stared down at his ink-stained fingers. “There are things I need to do.”

“I am quite capable of running this city. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“I know you are capable, [Villain].” Hero sighed. “By far, you are the most honorable man I have met in all my waking hours.”

At that, Villain shoved himself off the doorframe. “Then, why? Why do you insist on wasting away in this office?”

“The [magic] let’s me stay as long as there is something required of me.” Hero splayed his hand over the papers. “I have to work to stay awake. This is all I can do.”

“Then tell your [magic] that I need you.” Villain rounded Hero’s desk. “Tell it that I need you to rest, and that I need you with me.”

Hero shrunk back in his chair as Villain loomed over him. “The [magic] does not work so frivolously. You can not simply request it—”

Villain yanked Hero up by his lapel and tugged him out of the room. “I will not have you die reading over grain reports.”

“Where,” Hero winced, his lungs burning with each step, “where are you taking me?”

“To my room. To sleep.”

“[Villain],” Hero hissed, “I am not going to wake up.”

“You will.” Villain insisted, slowing as he heard the cramped hitch in Hero’s breath. He shifted his hand down to his forearm and clasped Hero’s terribly thin wrist. “And if you don’t, I will find a way to wake you.”

“You do not have my permission to start another apocalypse.”

“I wasn’t—,” Villain turned to catch the glimmer in Hero’s eye, “don’t joke with me about this, [Hero.] You shouldn’t have to continue saving the world if you don’t want to. You shouldn’t have to wake up every other century and fight for every second you’re conscious.”

As Hero opened his mouth to reply, Villain gave him a look and pushed him into his drawing room. He unpinned Hero’s cuff links and pulled off his overcoat before doing the same to himself.

“Even if I were to sleep and find myself in an era eons from now,” Hero proclaimed as Villain unbuttoned his vest, “I would remember you.”

In the wan light, Villain floated like a phantom, a shadowed slip of skin and silk, but Hero could still see his smile in the shadowed wrinkles around his eyes and in the gleam of his teeth.

“And I would recall you for the many years until my death.”

////

“I’ve never fallen asleep on purpose before.” Hero whispered.

Villain shifted closer and pressed his forehead into Hero’s shoulder. He reached over to settle his palm over Hero’s sternum. “Close your eyes.”

“Well, I understand that.” Hero protested.

“Close them, [Hero.]” Villain flattened his fingers and Hero took a deep, shuddering breath. As he relaxed, he set his hand overtop of Villain’s and squeezed his knuckles.

“I want to wake up tomorrow.”

“I will wake you.”

“If I don’t, I want to say—”

“Goodnight, [Hero].”

#villain x hero #heroes and villains #hero whump #whump #hero and villain #prompt #writing prompt #writing prompts #writerblr #writers on tumblr #stories #story #Drabble #villain #heroxvillain prompt #hero

[theliteraryarchitect]

Hi! I wanted to say, I read that you are a professional editor, and think it's amazing! You also give very logical and well explained advice. I was wondering; would you say being an editor is a job you can support yourself with? I actually aspire to become one someday, but I'm not exactly sure if it's a good plan.

Thank you for your time, and I hope you have a good day/night

Hey there. Great question. It's totally possible to support yourself as an editor. I've done it, and so have other editors I know. However there are a few important things to consider before choosing editing as a career path.

Your chances of being a self-employed freelancer are extremely high. The number of in-house editing jobs in publishing are low and getting lower. While being self employed can give you a certain amount of flexibility, it also comes along with a lot of hustle and hassle, namely fluctuating income, a stupid amount of confusing tax paperwork, and the need to constantly promote yourself to clients in order to maintain steady work.

You probably won't make as much money as you'd think. Editing is one of the many skilled jobs that suffers from market saturation, which has sadly driven down the price the average client is willing to pay for editing services. I can't tell you the number of overqualified editors I know charging barely more than minimum wage for their work. Personally I've stuck to my guns about charging what I'm worth, but I've sometimes suffered by not having as much work as my colleagues who charge less.

Robots have already chipped away at the future of editing as a human occupation, and will continue to do so at exponential speed in the years ahead. They will never obliterate the job completely, as there will always be humans who prefer to work with humans instead of machines. But the outlook will become ever bleaker as more humans compete for fewer gigs, which in turn will drive down prices even further.

If you are also a writer, editing may adversely affect your writing. I don't mean that you'll become a worse writer, quite the opposite. My editing work has brought new depths to my writing, and I'm grateful for all I've learned by working with my clients. However, editing takes time, uses creative energy, and requires staring at a screen (or paper), and personally the more I edit, the less time/creativity/screen-staring capabilities I have left for my own writing.

If you mention you're an editor, someone will troll your post for a typo, grammatical error, or misused word, and then triumphantly point it out to you in the comments. This is mostly a joke. But it does happen every single time.

I hope this hasn't been too discouraging. If you feel a true passion for editing and really enjoy the work, none of the above should dissuade you. However, if you think you might be happy in any number of occupations, I'd honestly advise you to explore other options. Choosing a career path at this point in history is a gamble no matter what, but the outlook for editors is especially grim.

If you'd like to work with writers and aren't attached to being an editor, there are a few jobs (still freelance) that I believe will survive the coming robot apocalypse. Do a little Google research about "book coaches," "writing coaches," or "book doulas." These are people who act primarily as emotional supporters and logistical helpers for writers who are trying to get their book published or self published. Some of them do actual editing, but many do not, and due to the therapeutic nature of their work I believe they will flourish longer than editors in the coming robot apocalypse.

If you do explore editing as a path, the further away you can lean from spelling and grammar (e.g. proofreader or copyeditor), the longer your skills will be useful when competing with robots. AI still struggles to offer the same kind of nuanced, story-level feedback that a human can give. (Speaking from experience here--I'm a developmental editor and have yet to see a dent in my workload because of robots.) They'll catch up eventually, but it could be a while, and as long as there are human readers, there will always be humans who are willing to pay for a human perspective on their writing. Human spell checkers maybe not so much.

Hope this helps!

#writeblr #asks #op #editing

[argoscity]

ULTIMATE SUPERGIRL READING GUIDE

since i've been asked a few times in the past for various reading guides for kara, i thought i'd compile them all into one post for the sake of convenience!

this guide has reading orders for supergirl comics in PRE-CRISIS (1959-1985), POST-CRISIS (2004-2011), NEW 52 (2011-2016), REBIRTH (2016-2021), and INFINITE FRONTIER (2021-present).

if you have any questions at all don't be afraid to shoot me an ask!

for each section bolded comics are required, italicized comics are recommended, and everything else is optional!

[PRE-CRISIS]

ORIGIN AND MIDVALE ERA (NOTE: you'll have to flip to the back of each issue to get to kara's section!) action comics (1938) #252, 258, 267, 276, 278-282, 285, 295, 309-310, 313, 317

STANHOPE COLLEGE action comics (1938) #318, 366-368, 372, 374 world’s finest (1941) #169 adventure comics (1938) #381, 386, 391, 395, 397

K-SFTV REPORTER — SAN FRANCISCO adventure comics (1938) #406-407, 410-415, 419-424

VANDYRE UNIVERSITY supergirl (1974) #1-10

STUDENT ADVISOR — FLORIDA (NOTE: every member of the superfamily has a story in the superman family (1974), so you'll have to flip through to find kara's section!) the superman family (1974) #165, 168, 171, 177 justice league of america (1960) #132-134 the superman family #183, 184-186, 187-189, 191-193, 196-198, 201-202, 203, 204-205

ACTRESS — NEW YORK the superman family (1974) 208-210, 211-214, 215-216, 217, 218 superman (1939) #373 (second story titled “an eye (and ear) on the world!”) detective comics (1937) #508-510 the superman family #219-222

LAKE SHORE UNIVERSITY supergirl (1982) #1-12 (cw: nazi imagery in the brief interlude in #12)  supergirl (1982) #13-15 (cw: antisemitism, nazi imagery, depictions of the holocaust.) supergirl (1982) #16-23

LAST APPEARANCES AND DEATH legion of superheroes (1980) #300-303 tales of the legion (1985) #4-7 crisis on infinite earths (1985) #4-7

BONUS POST-COIE APPEARANCES christmas with the super-heroes (1988) #2 (last story titled “should auld acquaintance be forgot”) supergirl (1996) #49, 75-80 solo (2004) #1 (third story titled “young love”) convergence: adventures of superman (2015) #1-2

[POST-CRISIS]

ORIGIN superman/batman (2003) #8-13  (or you can watch superman/batman: apocalypse (2010) instead which I recommend! the art is a lot more tasteful and it's a very faithful adaptation of the comic so you won’t be missing out on anything.)

KARA WITH THE LEGION OF SUPER-HEROES supergirl and the legion of super-heroes (2006) #16-36

LOEB AND KELLY HELL ERA supergirl (2005) #1-5, 9-10, 19 (you don’t have to read any of this since it gets retconned anyway, but if you’re interested in kara’s early characterization, the beginnings of her friendship with cassie sandsmark, or her difficulty fitting in on earth then you’re welcome to read what i’ve provided.)

KELLEY PUCKETT ERA Amazons Attack! teen titans (2003) #47-48  amazons attack! (2007) #3  supergirl (2005) #20  amazons attack! (2007) #4  teen titans (2003) #49

supergirl (2005) #21-22  teen titans (2003) #50, 51-55  supergirl (2005) #25-33

Superman: Brainiac  action comics (1938) #866-870

GATES AND IGLE HEAVEN ERA supergirl (2005) #34

New Krypton (new krypton is one of my favorite events and i recommend it in its entirety, but for the sake of brevity I’ll only be listing the issues relevant to kara.) superman: new krypton special #1  superman (1939) #681  adventure comics special featuring guardian #1  action comics (1938) #871  supergirl (2005) #35  superman (1939) #682  action comics (1938) #872  supergirl (2005) #36  superman (1939) #683  action comics (1938) #873

teen titans (2003) #66  supergirl (2005) #37-42

Friends and Fugitives superman: secret Files 2009 #1  supergirl (2005) #43  action comics (1938) #881  supergirl (2005) #45  action comics (1938) #882  supergirl (2005) #46-47

supergirl (2005) annual 1, #48-50

Last Stand of New Krypton  adventure comics (2009) #8  superman: last stand of new krypton #1�� supergirl (2005) #51  superman (1938) #698  adventure comics (2009) #9  superman: last stand of new krypton #2  adventure comics (2009) #10  supergirl (2005) #52  superman (1938) #699  superman: last stand of new krypton #3 superman: war of the supermen (2010) #0, 1-4 

supergirl (2005) #53-57, annual 2, 58-59

END OF SUPERGIRL VOL 5 supergirl (2005) #60-64 supergirl (2005) #65-67

[NEW 52]

ORIGIN and SUPERGIRL VS THE WORLDKILLERS supergirl (2011) #1-7

SUPERGIRL and SILVER BANSHEE supergirl (2011) #8-11

SUPERGIRL and SUPERBOY superboy (2011) #6

SANCTUARY supergirl (2011) #12, 0, 13

H’EL ON EARTH superman (2011) #13 supergirl (2011) #14 superman (2011) #14 superboy (2011) #15 supergirl (2011) #15 superboy (2011) #16 superboy (2011) Annual #1 supergirl (2011) #16 superman (2011) #16 superboy (2011) #17 supergirl (2011) #17 superman (2011) #17

SUPERGIRL and POWERGIRL supergirl (2011) #18-20

CYBORG SUPERMAN supergirl (2011) #21-23 action comics (2011) #23.1 supergirl (2011) #24

KRYPTON RETURNS action comics (2011) annual #2 superboy (2011) #25 supergirl (2011) #25 superman (2011) #25

SUPERGIRL VS LOBO supergirl (2011) #26-27

RED DAUGHTER OF KRYPTON supergirl (2011) #28-29 red lanterns (2011) #28-29 supergirl (2011) #30 red lanterns (2011) #30 supergirl (2011) #31 red lanterns (2011) #31-32 supergirl (2011) #32-33

SUPERMAN: DOOMED (this is a whole storyline but I'll only be listing the issues that kara appears in!) superman/wonder woman (2013) #9 action comics (2011) #33 supergirl (2011) #34 superman: doomed (2014) #2 action comics (2011) #35 supergirl (2011) #35

FUTURES END supergirl: futures end (2014) #1

JUSTICE LEAGUE UNITED justice league united (2014) #1-5 justice league united (2014) annual #1 justice league united (2014) #6-10

CRUCIBLE supergirl (2011) #36-40

FINAL DAYS OF SUPERMAN (kara only appears in the issues i've italicized and bolded, but i put all the relevant issues if you wanted to read the full storyline!) superman (2011) #51 batman/superman (2013) #31 action comics (2011) #51 superman/wonder woman (2013) #28 batman/superman (2013) #32 action comics (2011) #52 superman/wonder woman (2013) #29 superman (2011) #52

[REBIRTH]

KARA IN NATIONAL CITY supergirl: rebirth #1

supergirl (2016) #1-8 batgirl (2016) annual 1 supergirl #9-12

supergirl (2016) annual 1 supergirl #13-20

world's finest: batwoman and supergirl #1-2

ROGOL ZAAR and THE SINS OF THE CIRCLE the man of steel #1-2, 3-6 supergirl #21-33, #34-36

LEVIATHAN and BATMAN WHO LAUGHS superman: leviathan rising special #1 supergirl #34-36 supergirl (2016) annual 2 supergirl #37-42

HOUSE OF KENT action comics (2016) #1022-1023 action comics (2016) #1024-1028

FUTURE STATE superman of metropolis (2021) #1-2 kara zor el, superwoman (2021) #1-2

[INFINITE FRONTIER]

action comics 2021 annual

WOMAN OF TOMORROW supergirl: woman of tomorrow (2021) #1-8

WORLD'S FINEST batman/superman: world's finest (2022) #2-6, 8, 12

A WORLD WITHOUT CLARK KENT and RED MOON (kara is featured in the back-up story! if you want the full context of this plot i recommend reading the full warworld arc in action comics [action comics #1030-1046, superman: warworld apocalypse #1]!) action comics (2016) #1044-1046, 1047-1049

DAWN OF DC action comics (2016) #1051-1053, 1055-1056 superman (2023) #1-3 power girl special #1 steelworks (2023) #1-3

KNIGHT TERRORS knight terrors: superman (2023) #1-2

DAWN OF DC (continued) action comics: doomsday special (2023) superman (2023) #7 hawkgirl (2023) #4 action comics (2016) #1058 supergirl special (2023) action comics (2016) #1059-1060 action comics 2023 annual

power girl (2023) #6-7

HOUSE OF BRAINIAC action comics (2016) #1064

UPCOMING IN 2024 action comics (2016) #1065 [out may 14]

#kara zor el #supergirl #reading guide #reading order #kara danvers #linda lee danvers #linda lang

[loveyazy]

"[The menstrual cup] is a great solution in the ongoing apocalypse. It’s a reusable solution that doesn’t require you finding boxes of tampons in Infected-ridden cellars. We did do one thing. We enhanced the original paperwork that we had for the cup. It says ‘menstrual solution’ on it, but it was hard to read, so we used visual effects to make it a little bigger. But it goes by very quickly. The intention was that if you don’t know what it is, you can ask someone or you can Google. It’s more for the people who do know what it is. We do this all the time in shows with things like guns. People don’t know how to load guns, and we don’t explain it to them. Why should we have to explain this?”

THE LAST OF US (2023 - ?) — 1.06 | Kin

#tlouedit #the last of us #tlouhboedit #thelastofusedit #tlounetwork #tloudaily #tlou hbo #hbotlou #tvedit #userbbelcher #dailyflicks #cinematv #arthurpendragonns #cinemapix #usertelevision #userstream #chewieblog #useraurore #useroptional #televisiongifs

[dyaz-stories]

anywhere else is hollow || Cha Hyun-Su x Reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings & tags: mostly fluff, some angst because it's sweet home, sharing a bed.

first one-shot · previous one-shot

A/N: Third entrance for @neohumanmonster's fandom event! The prompt was: Peaceful Pillowtalk. For context, reader and Hyun-Su were in high school together, reader was only there for a year before going to another high school, and therefore has no knowledge of the bullying which hyun-su was a victim of. this one-shot can be read independently (there's nothing intense plot-wise that requires having read the other parts), but I do recommend reading them for context.

Hyun-Su stays over at your place quite often now. Long gone are the days when he would drop by for no more than a couple of hours and flee the scene, as though he was scared that you spending time with him would make you despise him. Now he helps you out around the house, and, when he offers, the two of you go out on ‘dates’ around the city. It still makes you nervous, being out in the open, but Hyun-Su doesn’t hesitate anymore to take your hand in his and guide you through the empty streets.

When you’re both in your apartment, you can almost tell yourself you’re two college students living together. Almost. If it wasn’t for your blinds being always drawn to ensure no monsters could see you from outside, or your parents’ former room being turned into a laboratory by your dad before his disappearance, the illusion would be close to perfect. You do like the thought of it. Imagining you and Hyun-Su, sharing a place in a world where the Apocalypse hadn’t happened… It would be sweet.

That being said, despite your developing relationship, that you still haven’t put words on, Hyun-Su keeps sleeping on the sofa. You’d prepared a blanket and a pillow, ‘just in case’, in the very beginning, and that is where he still collapses every night. You’ve been waiting, hoping he would ask for another— arrangement, but he hasn’t said anything, and now you’re wondering if you should.

It isn’t always easy, being the one taking all the steps in the relationship. Makes you wonder if you’re pushing too much, too fast, makes you wonder how much he wants it. And yet, if he does want it but doesn’t dare to ask, how stupid would it be to lose that much time, when you never know how long you have?

“Um, Hyun-Su?” you say that night, as you’re about to leave for your room. He looks up at you with these beautiful dark eyes of his. “I was just thinking— you know you don’t have to sleep here, right?”

He blinks at you.

“Do you— are you asking me to leave?” he asks, and you immediately want to slap yourself. A few months ago, you think he’d have been half-way to the door already. Now, he sounds cautious and a little worried, but he doesn’t seem to have jumped to conclusions just yet.

“No,” you sigh, resisting the urge to bang your head against the door frame because, yeah, it makes sense he’d interpret it like that. “No, I just meant you could, uh—” you glance towards your room. “Just meant you have other options. Here. If you— if you want to.”

You don’t know why you’re so nervous all of sudden. You think a part of you cannot forget how beloved Hyun-Su was in high school, while you were— no one. If the world wasn’t ending, you don’t think he would have looked at you twice. So, sometimes, you wonder if he wants you the same way you want him. It doesn’t help that he doesn’t initiate much of your more intimate moments, and isn’t much of a talker in general.

Hyun-Su’s eyes slowly move to the open door to your room, then move back to you, going wide.

“Are you—” His voice cracks. “Are you sure?”

You nod, not really trusting yourself with words right now. You don’t want to sound desperate for affection, but you also don’t want, even for a second, to make it sound like it’s something you’re nonchalant about.

“Okay,” Hyun-Su mumbles. “Okay.”

He gets up from the couch, walks over to the door, where you’re still standing. You’re both quiet when you take his hand in yours and pull him towards the bed. It feels awkward, but you don’t have enough experience with this sort of thing to tell if that’s how it’s supposed to be.

For a while, you just stay laying on your back, staring at the ceiling, with Hyun-Su doing the same thing next to you. The atmosphere feels heavy, your whole body warm and tingling. This is all just so new to you. There have been lots of moments between the two of you, mostly spontaneous, just doing what felt right in the moment. This is different, probably because you asked, and you’re not sure what to do with it.

After a while, you roll over on your side, looking at Hyun-Su’s profile, until he turns his head to look at you. You press your lips together. Your mind is going into overdrive, trying to figure something to say — what do you even say in these circumstances? You’re drawing a blank. At least until Hyun-Su raises a hand and his fingers start slowly tracing your cheekbone, then your jaw.

You feel your breath catching in your throat, and your lips part as you do your best to keep yourself perfectly still. It’s like you’re finally being approached by a shy cat that you’re trying not to scare away.

Gently, he tucks a lock of hair behind your ear.

“Aren’t you afraid?” he asks, soft voice echoing in the dark.

Afraid of what? Of him? Of someone who touches you like you’re made of porcelain?

“No,” you answer.

For a while, there’s just the sound of the two of you breathing, and the feeling of his hand on your cheek.

“What if I hurt you?” he asks finally, voice weak and fragile.

“You wouldn’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

You swallow. You know he can feel it.

“Yes, I do,” you whisper, and you genuinely believe it to be true.

Hyun-Su’s hand stills. You hear him breathe out, before there’s the sound of rustling and then the feeling of his lips on yours. As usual with him, the kiss is brief and soft, a simple press of his lips against your own. What follows isn’t usual, though, the way he wraps his arms around you and pulls you against his chest, so he can put his chin on top of your head. It has your heart beating erratically, even if it’s not the first time he’s that close to you.

It’s just that that happens mostly when the two of you are kissing. The fact that he’s seeking that kind of closeness without that happening is a whole other kind of intimacy, one that almost makes you shiver.

“Is that okay too?” he checks. “You— said I didn’t need to ask, but…”

“It’s more than okay,” you answer, closing one arm around him however you can. “And I meant it when I said that.”

“I—” A sigh. “I don’t want to impose on you. Sometimes I— I feel like I need you too much.”

It becomes hard to breathe all of a sudden. Hyun-Su isn’t one for that kind of confession, not usually, but you desperately want to hear more. He keeps talking, and you feel his voice rumble through his chest and through you, while he plays with your hair distractedly.

“You’re so— independent. You look like you’re doing so well on your own, here. But it physically hurts to be away from you,” he mumbles into your hair. “But I— know what I am. I never want you to think you can’t— can’t push me away because you’re scared of that— that part of me.”

Your eyes sting, and you hold him a little tighter against you.

“I know who you are, too, Hyun-Su. And I don’t want to push you away.”

“Not now,” he admits. “But if one day—”

“Hyun-Su,” you call softly, trying to get his attention back on you instead of this distant, nebulous future. You live in a world where you may not know tomorrow, where a simple infection could be the end, not to mention the ever looming threat of monsterization taking you over. “I want you here. With me. I promise.”

Finally, you seem to be getting through to him. He relaxes into you, and his breathing turns deeper, more even.

“This feels nice,” he whispers after a while, and you smile against his skin.

“It does.”

You drift into sleep not long after that, you think, and for the first time in forever, you don’t wake throughout the night, startled by the smallest sound.

You just feel safe.

i hope you liked this one! i love developing reader and hyun-su's relationship through small steps, but just to let you know, we're getting closer to some smut taking place 👀 i hope people won't feel let down by that. i do think it would be out of character to write something super intense for them at that point so don't expect anything hardcore, but the 'porn with feelings' tag on ao3 is my shit so if you like that you might find something to enjoy in there! okay i think i'm done with this lil ramble.

Comments, whether here, in the tags or in a reblog, are greatly appreciated! interactions really motivate me and keep me writing :)

#hyun su x reader #cha hyun su x reader #sweet home #sweet home netflix #cha hyun su #sweet home x reader #sweet home season 2 #cha hyunsoo #cha hyunsoo x reader #hyunsoo x reader #sweet home imagine #sweet home fanfic #my writing

[daddy-dins-girl]

Pedro Boys “I Want a Baby”

Headcanons:

Max Phillips - I feel this one needs no explanation. Dieter Bravo - He loves you, he is committed to you, but a baby would really harsh his vibe. Javier Peña - Loves to "sow his wild oats", so long as those oats don't procreate. He has enough problems as it is. Ezra - He's already somehow ended up with one extra mouth he can't really afford to feed. Don't pile on. Jack "Whiskey" Daniels - Absolutely requires ALL of your attention. A baby would only encroach on his territory, and he prefers not to share. Marcus Pike - Has been waiting for you to say this since your 3rd date. Upon receiving your text he immediately leaves work to head to the paint store so he can start preparing the nursery. He also buys a copy of "What to Expect When You're Expecting". Not for you to read, but for him. He wants to to be ready and anticipate anything you may need from him.

related posts: Pedro Boys "During a Fire Emergency" Pedro Boys "Nice Argument. Unfortunately," Pedro Boys "Don't Fuck This Up" Pedro Boys "Dad(dy) Matrix" Pedro Boys & Stabbing Pedro Boys "Lawful/Neutral/Chaotic" Pedro Boys "Feral/Sad/Angelic" Pedro Boys Respond to "I love you." Pedro Boys "Character Tropes" Pedro Boys "Gay/Depressed/Horny on Main" Pedro Boys "Dad/THOT/Bastard" Pedro Boys "bring some Coke to the party" Pedro Boys "Zombie Apocalypse Team" Pedro Boys "As Babysitters" Pedro Boys "As McDonald's Dads" Pedro Boys "in a horror movie" Pedro Boys "Cinnamon Rolls" Pedro Boys "5 Kids, 3 Chairs" Pedro Boys "Playing Monopoly"

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal cinematic universe #pedro pascal characters #pedro boys #dieter bravo #max phillips #marcus pike #agent whiskey #javier peña #ezra prospect

[bestdeadbeatmilf]

Round One, Bracket Three

Propaganda under the cut!

Kenjaku:

Submission 1: Kenjaku. Absolutely. Experienced the miracle of childbirth to have a son (for purely the purposes of being a vessel ) they did not bother to get to know- going quite a bit past being a deadbeat mother, what with murdering his father and leaving him to grow up raised completely by his grandfather. Actually, forget being a deadbeat mother to one son, try all nine of his siblings as well, all ditched immediately after birth! But they’re not really done after leaving the scene, and have lovingly taken the time to bodysnatch the ex of their son’s teacher, happily ruin their son’s life by making his head a roommate for an ancient sorcerer that gets him on society’s death row, barely bat an eye at the deaths of nearly all their sons, try to kill one of their sons, set up circumstances that nearly get their other son killed, and run into one of their son’s friends only to cheerful tell her they’re grateful she got along with their son. And then died housing their ex’s fetus in their man-made womb. Wonderful.

Submission 2:

Kenjaku is a genderless brain thing that took over the main character's (Itadori) mom and got laid by the main Itadori's dad in order ot enact her evil plan for the future. Truest deadbeat mom in the world she leaves soon after giving birth and Itadori doesn't know who his mom is. But wow she's kind of hot I can't lie. She's got game, she's hot and she's ambitious with her goals in life? Queen of my heart.

Extra notes: Wins both hottest deadbeat milf and dilf award in my heart

Lee Sookyung:

Submission 1:

Without spoiling too much, she kinda sorta maybe went to jail for murdering her abusive husband, and then maybe sorta kinda wrote a bestselling book about it thereby ruining her son's life by forever associating him with a murderer and then kinda maybe sorta doesn't ever address what happened and instead continues to pull the "mother knows best card" even though she hasn't spoken to him in like 20 years. SPOILER WARNING: For that reason she also is sorta maybe kinda the reason the apocalypse happens but we're not playing the blame game here she just sucks

Extra notes: I am legally required to tell you to read ORV

Submission 2:

murdered her abusive husband <3 then she wrote a book about it <3 accidentally ruined her sons life because of her refusal to speak to him/convey solidarity about the book and press attention with him + taught him that the only and best way to communicate your love for your child is to leave. when it was prophesied that he was going to be killed by the person he loved most she kidnapped and trapped him in a recreation of their childhood house and killed him. it didnt even fulfill the prophecy. shes so cool and leads an entire gang of female prisoners in the apocalypse and her sponsor/god is also a mom (and a bear. and the mother of the founder of korea). she hates her sons favorite character so bad for raising him where she didnt. you could make an argument that she gets into yuri with her sons friends if you want.

#kenjaku #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #lee sookyung #omniscient reader's viewpoint #orv #poll tournament

[quack-quack-snacks]

Star Crossed - Chapter 2

| Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 |

The Star Crossed Masterlist

My All Of Us Are Dead Masterlist

My Navigation and Masterlist

Warnings: Zombies, gore, normal AOUAD things Word Count: 6,347

As you leaned your head back against the tree trunk, the rhythmic beat of your favorite song playing through your ears and the rest of the world canceled out, you didn’t notice the horde getting closer.

Su-hyeok was running down the hall after searching practically the entire school and still not finding you. Telling his friends he was going to go play basketball to spare himself some time to find and talk to you seemed like a good idea when the world wasn’t ending but now he was just even more lost with what he should do.

There was no way he wasn’t going to keep looking for you. No. He would rather die than leave you all alone in a zombie fucking apocalypse. Knowing you and how you shared a habit of listening to your music too loud at all times with Nam-ra, you wouldn’t hear the screams even if they were right next to your ears.

He was going to find you and keep you safe if it’s the last thing he did.

Everything seemed to be going wrong today; first, Hyeon-ju had been kidnapped by the science teacher and passed out in the middle of class; second, On-jo confesses to him on the stairway; then, he finds out his classmates have turned into blood thirsty, flesh eating monsters and he can’t seem to find you no matter where he looks.

So much for confessing on her birthday.

He had been planning the day for months.

He was going to take you to the roof - which he’d gained access to earlier that morning to put a set of picnic required items in a cooler - then he would stop you at the door after class and ask you to have lunch with him - just the two of you - which he was sure even if you were hesitant about he would be able to convince you that he didn’t care about how others saw him and you would give in.

After that, he would cover your eyes and walk you up the stairs, you would laugh that soft laugh of yours when he would purposely walk you in zig-zags and do 180s just for more time with you.

Then, he would finally lead you up to the roof where a bouquet of flowers would be resting against the wall in the corner. The two of you would eat and drink the foods he provided and he would ask you to skip the rest of the day with him to just sit on the roof and talk with each other. You would say yes, you could never say no to him and hating school was just a way to guarantee his win.

After a while, he would confess.

He would’ve already handed you the bouquet so instead he would give you your birthday present. It was a simple small heart shaped locket that he had put some dried, flattened flowers into; small ones so they could still be visible and not need to be squished down even more. The other side of the locket would be empty, if/when you accepted his confession, he was hoping you two would fill it with a photo of the two of you.

The present came with a card but he would’ve told you to open the present first. After you opened it and he placed it around your neck, his fingers lightly skimming your neck as he clicked the latch in place, he would tell you to open the card.

He drew the card himself, it was a photo of you holding a flower with the locket around your neck and a soft smile on your face. The inside was decorated with drawings of flowers that surrounded the neat handwriting which displayed his feelings like lyrics of a love song.

Just as you’d start to read it, he would start saying each word he’d written down, spending countless hours practicing the exact words he had written down in front of the mirror. In his head he would say it perfectly with no stutters or awkward pauses where he would have to try and remember the words but he was sure he would mess up in some way. You had that effect on him. You made him nervous and confident. You made him excited and calm. You made him laugh and cry.

God, he was so in love with you.

And now I might never get to tell her that.

He almost physically slapped himself at the thought, not being able to even think about the possibility of you not surviving.

He had one more stop where he thought to go, and that was the cherry blossom tree in the garden. It was where the two of you would meet for lunch on the days where he could convince you to hang out with him during school hours.

It recently became a more popular place to go since it was the time of the year where the leaves fell and cherry blossom flowers and petals littered the ground to show a beautiful yet tragic sight. Ever since more people showed up, you’d told him you shouldn’t meet there anymore. He’d felt devastated when you told him that. He was sure you’d meant you never wanted to hang out with him again until you clarified that the two of you would just have to find another secret space where you could share your private lunch times.

Finally arriving and just barely missing a zombie that was running full speed toward him through a hallway that ran perpendicular to his. Luckily for him, although it made him feel sick to his stomach, the zombie with which he’d just escaped had found another target and was running toward it, completely forgetting Su-hyeok’s existence. As he exited the school doors and went into the garden area, he saw you sitting with your head lightly bobbing and gently hitting itself against the trunk of the tree you were resting against. Your headphones were in just as he’d predicted them to be and if he weren’t in a life or death situation, he would’ve wanted to stay right there and watch you for hours.

The sun shone through the leaves of the tree above you beautifully and landed on your cheeks and made you look heavenly. Your body was dressed in your normal uniform but somehow you made it look like it was being worn by a model down a runway.

He ran toward you and grabbed your hand, quickly pulling you up despite the way you flinched and smacked his arm in fright. He started running down the opposite way he came from, this time with you in tow and him grabbing onto your hand tightly, afraid if he let go he would lose you forever. Running through the halls, the two of you arrived at the glass bridge that connected the two buildings of the school. As you ran down, you passed Nam-ra who was also unaware of the situation going on around her because of her headphones. Yanking yourself free from Su-hyeok’s grip, you ran back to grab onto her hand and pull her with you before you reconnected yours and Su-hyeok’s hands as the three of you ran.

After seeing how the school’s gardener, who’d been trimming the bushes before shit went down, fell off his ladder and onto his garden shears before being pounced on by zombies, you noticed an opportunity with the ladder. Releasing the hands of both people who protested worriedly at the loss of contact, you rushed over to grab the ladder and prop it up against the wall so the three of you could climb it into what you knew was your homeroom class. At the beginning of the year you’d placed some small stickers in the corner and they’d been there ever since. Grabbing onto the ladder, you motioned for Su-hyeok to climb up it which he started to protest to until you grabbed him by his shirt and forced him to start climbing the first couple of steps, you did the same with Nam-ra who held a look of protest on her face but did not physically or verbally state it. After both of your friends had started climbing the ladder and Su-hyeok had managed to get the window open, you started climbing yourself until you felt a grip hold onto your shoe, trying to pull you back.

You turned back to see it was the gardener who’d only been killed a minute or two ago. It made your eyes widen before you used the ladder as support behind you and kicked him in the chest using your other foot. Once he’d fallen back, you wasted no time in climbing up the ladder, especially at your friends’ panicked yells of your name. As you reached the last few steps of the ladder and Su-hyeok grabbed onto your hands, you suddenly felt the stability of the ladder beneath you falling. Using the last bit of ground, you launched yourself into the air and grabbed ahold of the edge of the window with all your might. Su-hyeok and Nam-ra rushed to pull you in.

Once you’d made it safely inside and landed on your feet, Su-hyeok started frantically searching your body for any wounds, bite or not. After satisfying himself that you only had a few bruises that looked a couple days old, he pulled you into a tight hug with his head buried into the top of your head.

“This is why I always tell you to lower your music, dumbass,” he breathed in a whisper only meant for you while he held your shaking body. For the first few minutes of running, you didn’t even know why you were running until you finally took you headphones off and looked behind you and saw the two of you being chased by students with blood running down their chins while others were eating the flesh off the bones of other students who were screaming bloody murder.

It was quite a shock.

“Yeah. Like you would have predicted this. Mr. Big Psychic Guy,” you sarcastically retorted but your voice shook and he hugged you harder.

“It’s just like Train to Busan,” Cheong-san said as he looked at his friend holding you with mixed emotions. He wasn’t sure how to feel about seeing his best friend hugging the school bully’s little sister yet.

“Holy shit,” Dae-su exclaimed as he dropped to the floor while wiping the rest of his face from the fire extinguisher’s foam.

After a while when you’d calmed down a bit and gave an appreciative smile to Su-hyeok, you noticed the group searching around for a phone.

“See if it’s there,” Wu-jin told Joon-hyeong while they searched through people’s backpacks.

“It’s not here either,” Joon-yeong groaned.

As they started talking about how the zombies weren’t able to open doors, you started walking over to your own bag before Nam-ra tugged on your sleeve. Turning around, you gave her a smile and pulled her into a hug. The other kids were too worried with their own problems and searches to notice but Su-hyeok did and he smiled before going to look for a phone with the others.

After releasing Nam-ra, you placed your hands on her upper arms and gave a comforting squeeze before going over to your own bag. Pulling out your phone, you hesitated before speaking up.

“Uh… guys,” everyone looked up at you as soon as you spoke and you held your phone up for them to see. “Here.”

Cheong-san slowly came up to you and grabbed the phone from your extended hand with a slight nod of appreciation. The phone was already unlocked when he grabbed it and he immediately went to the call app to call 112.

Cheong-san brought the phone up to his head as he called.

“Hello? This is Hyosan High School! A ton of zombies showed up at lunch, and they’re eating people.”

You slapped your head in annoyance. “Idiot, they won’t believe you if you say zombies,” you whispered to him.

“Then what?” He questioned in an annoyed voice.

“They won’t believe you!” On-jo told him and slapped his arm lightly.

“Did you happen to see the movie Train to Busan?” He asked the dispatcher and you just groaned and walked away.

Going over to sit on your desk, Su-hyeok came over to sit on Nam-ra’s which was beside you. Right as he was about to speak, all of the zombies started running in one direction.

“What?”

“Where are they going?”

“Why are they leaving?”

Everyone started speaking at once.

“They probably heard or saw someone,” you said quietly and reached into your bag to grab the pocket knife Gwi-nam gave you to put on your keychain.

“Better to always have one just in case of emergency. Just don’t get caught with it.” He’d told you as he gave you the knife along with a pepper spray that was your favorite color.

You’d kept them in your bag ever since.

Gyeong-su opened the door to look outside and Su-hyeok ran over to yank him back inside.

“What are you doing, moron? Close it!” He exclaimed and the boy complied immediately.

“Okay, fine. You scared me!” Su-hyeok slapped his back a few times to reassure himself and Gyeong-su that they were both fine.

On-jo walked over to Cheong-san with a desperate look on her face and she held her own hands to stop them from shaking. “And the police?”

Cheong-san hesitated before repeating back what the dispatcher told him. “He said they’ll come,” he sounded unsure.

“Did they believe you?” Gyeong-su asked with a hint of annoyance in his voice but you could tell it wasn’t aimed at Cheong-san. “What if they think it's a prank and decide not to come?”

“Well, then try again!” Na-yeon stood up abruptly and yelled. “And tell them to hurry up!” She yelled.

“Na-yeon,” you said in a monotone voice from your spot still sitting on your desk. She turned around to look at you and froze when she saw your blank stare. “Shut up, you’ll attract the zombies.”

Nobody could blame her for her reaction, you looked very intimidating. You were sitting on the table with your elbows supporting your body on your knees while you flicked your knife open and closed. She gulped then nodded and stopped talking. On-jo grabbed the phone from Cheong-san and called 112 again, this time with a different strategy.

“Hi. Hello, sir. Do you know Captain Nam So-ju from Rescue Team One?” She tried. You knew her father was a firefighter, having heard her talk about him as well as seen him pick her up from school in his uniform a few times.

There was a pause as the dispatcher talked on the other end of the line. The voice could be heard from him but it was too quiet to understand. “Captain Nam So-ju is my father. Please tell him to hurry over to my school.”

Su-hyeok and Gyeong-su both turned around when they heard her talking. “Who is she calling?” You could hear Gyeong-su ask but Su-hyeok just shrugged his shoulders.

“There's a fire.”

At that, everyone’s attention focused on On-jo and what she was saying.

“Hyosan High School, classroom 2-5. Hurry up. The fire is massive.”

With that, the call ended and she turned back to the rest of you. Cheong-san walked over to stand next to her and look out the window to the field where hundreds of students wandered, their souls now gone and replaced with emotionless, hungry beasts.

“No one’s coming?” Su-hyeok asked as he came up behind him. You decided you couldn’t just sit around anymore and you stood up to stand on the other side of Su-hyeok and look out the window.

As Cheong-san stayed silent, you noticed something over at the gate. It looked like a bus.

“Is that a bus?”

“I think something’s happening at the gate.”

You and Cheong-san spoke out at the same time.

Na-yeon, who had been having a panic attack and had her head in her hands for the past few minutes, stood up. “Let’s call the cops again. Get them to listen.”

On-jo looked at her with a worried expression. “I am, but they won’t pick up.”

Na-yeon breathed heavily and for a second you felt bad, feeling the need to comfort her, until she walked up to where Nam-ra was sitting with a face that arrogantly showed her blaming the situation on her.

“Hey,” she started but Nam-ra showed no reaction. “Do something. Tell Ms. Park to come and help.” Nam-ra still showed no reaction. “Do something!”

“Do what exactly?” Su-hyeok asked, absolutely done with her bullshit and how she seemed to place the blame on everyone around her.

“I don’t know. Anything!” She said desperately, her voice rising before she remembered your words and shot you an almost apologetic glance. She looked back at the girl who was still sitting, staying silent and listening to how she was being berated. “What have you done as class president?”

Min-ji grabbed onto her arm from behind her. “Stop it,” she pleaded but Na-yeon just yanked her arm away from her grip.

Nam-ra stood up and walked so she was standing directly in front of Na-yeon.

“Teacher’s office?” She asked with a hint of a mocking tone in her voice. “So you just want me to leave now?”

There was a moment of silence as the two girls glared at each other. “Well, if you’re offering.” Na-yeon said and you took a step forward before Su-hyeok placed his arm in front of you to stop you from going any further. He gave you a look and you knew almost exactly what he was saying.

Nam-ra can hold her own, she’s strong.

“You told me to do something,” Nam-ra started again. “Do you want me to leave?”

“Stop it, you two!” On-jo begged from her place in front of the window. You could see how she tried to slowly inch away from you ever so often and you just dug your nails into your palms to stop the hurt from building.

You liked On-jo. You really did. She seemed like such a good friend who, if you could get to know her and she could get to know you, the two of you would be good friends.

“She’s only saying that because you’re class president,” On-jo tried to defend Na-yeon’s words even though she didn’t really deserve it.

“Yeah. You are, right?” Dae-su asked and you just rolled your eyes as everyone started to know her as the class president and ask for her help only when the world was ending.

“So just be patient, okay?” Wu-jin jumped in and told her. Nam-ra looked over at the two of them and Wu-jin comically grabbed Dae-su’s chin and forced him to look the other way while he also did.

“So stupid,” she said, shaking her head slightly in annoyance. She shot you a look and saw you were feeling the exact same thing. Although she wouldn’t say it out loud, she was happy she had at least one person who seemed to be on her side. “Typical.”

“What’s typical?” On-jo asked and Nam-ra turned around to look at her, a sarcastic smile gracing her lips.

“Now that we are in this mess, I’m your class president?” She berated.

On-jo looked guilty at her words but she held eye-contact.

Trying to cut the tension, Su-hyeok started to mediate the situation. “We called the police, so I’m sure we’ll be fine soon.”

Na-yeon whined and jumped up and down a bit like a toddler not getting her way. “But no one’s coming!”

“Enough already. We’re all scared too!” Ji-min exclaimed, getting up from her seat and only just being stopped by Hyo-ryung and Min-ji.

“That’s why I’m telling them to call!” Na-yeon screamed back at her.

“Why don’t you do it, then?” Ji-min challenged.

“Ladies, ladies, can you just stop the whining?” Gyeong-su let out exasperatedly from his spot blocking the door. You rolled your eyes at the tone of his voice but decided not to say anything.

“Oh, now you’re butting in, shithead?” Na-yeon turned around to face him.

Okay, nevermind I’m not staying out of it.

You walked over to the two of them as Gyeong-su walked away from the door to stand in front of Na-yeon.

“What? Did you just call me a shithead? Call me a shitheaed, you shithead,” he exclaimed and Wu-jin along with Dae-su ran over to hold him back from starting a fight while Min-ji wrapped her arms around Na-yeon to do the same.

The boys holding onto Gyeong-su just told him to let it go and not listen to her while you stood a few feet away, waiting for the situation to go from bad to worse.

Su-hyeok pointed at the door while telling Gyeong-su to go back. “Hold the door. I said hold the door.”

Seeing the boys not moving, you decided to go over yourself and to hold the door when a familiar face came rushing in before closing the door behind him.

“Coach Kang,” you said.

The man’s eyes scanned the room with a suspicious look before he asked, “Are you guys okay?” A few of the students nod but most just stayed still. Kang let out a deep breath of relief before Gyeong-su ran up to him.

“What about you? You weren’t bitten?”

“No. Of course not. I’m- I’m all right,” there was something about the way he hesitated when saying he was fine that made you stand on guard and put your hand into your pocket where you stored your knife. “Hey, guys. Let’s block the door first.”

All of the students started helping push the desks in front of the door but you just stood back as you watched Kang and the way he moved, there was a slight stutter in his steps, like he was struggling for control over his body.

You started to think you were being paranoid until suddenly you heard I-sak say something to On-jo.

“On-jo, look,” she said and pointed to Coach Kang.

“What?” On-jo asked, still confused on what her friend was telling her.

“There. His arm.” She pointed right at a bite that was on his right arm and On-jo gasped.

“Coach Kang,” On-jo spoke softly. “Your arm.”

The coach just looked at them irritated. “What are you doing? Come help us!”

Knowing On-jo would have trouble with standing up against a teacher, you took the initiative to tell the others.

“Coach Kang, you have a bite on your arm!” You walked in front of the two girls and pushed them behind you while firmly gripping your knife in your pocket.

Everyone else backed away from the man as he stared at his own bite mark in shock.

“He said he wasn’t bitten,” Gyeong-su said in slight denial.

“No, no I, I wasn’t bitten,” he tried desperately to cover his arm where the bite mark was in an attempt to make it seem as if it wasn’t there. As if, if you couldn’t see it, it didn’t exist.

“It’s a bite mark,” On-jo told him.

“I said it isn’t. Don’t talk back to me. Okay?” He exclaimed, getting angrier by the second and you gently pushed the girls even further behind you.

“It looks like you were really bitten,” I-sak spoke up from behind you and you could hear the slight tremor in her voice.

“I wasn’t! How many times must I tell you?” Coach Kang yelled at her and took a step forward so you also took a step forward.

“You should go,” You told him in an strangely calm voice considering the situation.

“Then why the hell are you hiding it? Just show it to us!” I-sak spoke up again and Kang tried to step around you but you just pushed him back by his shoulders and he stumbled for a second before regaining his balance.

“Why… you little bitch. How dare you disrespect me!”

I-sak took a step forward and grabbed your arm to pull you back a bit. Her voice got more quiet as she spoke again. “I think you should leave right now.”

“What?”

“Get out of here immediately.”

“You want me to go out there?” He pointed toward the door where a few zombies walked past the window. “After all I did to get here? You want me to go back out?”

“You were bitten,” she said while breathing heavily in fear. “Come on, get out.” There was a moment of silence before she yelled, “I said get out now!”

“Cocksucker! How dare you yell at me like that?” He stared at her as he spoke and his face continuously got sweatier as the seconds passed. As he took a step forward, On-jo pulled I-sak back as you took a step forward to protect them. You were unknowing to the faces of the girls behind you as you were too busy protecting them but they were shocked. They thought you would be more like your brother who would only care about his own safety - along with yours, everyone knew how overprotective he was of you - but here you were, protecting them with your life. Coach Kang looked at you with annoyance but focused his attention on I-sak.

“You little… Get over here. Come here,” He seemed to be getting angrier and everyone was on edge. “Now!” I-sak continued to remain still. “You won’t come? Hey.” He started advancing forward and Su-hyeok rushed forward to push you back as Dae-su went to push Kang back but was held back by Wu-jin.

“Get the fuck back,” you yelled at him as he tried to get around you and Su-hyeok tried to pull you back.

“You know, you have been getting on my nerves. How dare you not listen to me. I am your teacher and I demand respect!” He yelled at you.

“Respect is earned motherfucker. I won’t respect you until you show me you deserve it,” you told him and he looked positively fuming.

“You will respect me!” He took a step forward as you were yanked back by Su-hyeok who was pulled back by On-jo who looked at the two of you with a weird gleam in her eyes. Suddenly, his nose started bleeding and he turned away as he wiped it away.

Before you could stop her, On-jo ran from behind you and hit the man over the head with a backpack.

He turned around with a silent anger. Cheong-san pulled On-jo behind him as Kang started walking toward her. “You fucking bitch,” he spoke, raising his hand like he was going to slap her before falling flat on his face.

“I think he really was bitten,” Gyeong-su said stupidly and you just looked at him with an exasperated look. “Guys, we should get out of here as soon as possible.”

Kang twitched on the ground and you tried to pull away from Su-hyeok to go toward him and prepare to stab him but Su-hyeok wrapped his arms around your waist and shoulders and you couldn’t move no matter how you squirmed.

“Hey. Hey! He’s turning!”

The coach’s bones cracked and crunched as he rolled around on the floor and turned from one type of monster to another.

“Get him out of here! Hurry!” Na-yeon yelled as she shut her eyes closed tightly and covered her ears. For once you agreed with her and couldn’t find it in you to tell her to shut up. “Hurry! Throw him out!”

The coach had finally fully turned and started crawling toward Min-ji before standing up and lunging at her completely, latching his teeth onto her cheek and not letting go until he was pulled off by Dae-su who tried desperately to save his friend as she screamed in agony.

Dae-su threw Kang into the drawers on the wall of the class room and he rolled around while readjusting his bones.

Still struggling against Su-hyeok’s grip, you started thrashing around but he held strong.

“Dae-su… I can’t…” Min-ji started and you felt tears well up in your eyes as you thrashed harder. You never really knew the girl but she didn’t deserve this, that’s for sure. “I don’t want to die…”

The zombified coach stood up and Su-hyeok gently tossed you to the side as he lunged straight for the two of you. He swiftly dodged the attacks of the man as everyone screamed. Disorientated from the lack of hold of his arms, it took you a minute to regain your balance and try to help the best you can and yet before you could Su-hyeok was holding you back again. Cheong-san quickly picked up a desk and used it to slam Kang into the wall, gathering the help of Gyeong-su who helped hold him there.

As Min-ji kept begging for help, Na-yeon scurried to the pile of desks and chairs and started pulling them away from the door so she could get out.

For once, not a bad idea.

You were worried when you saw Min-ji get up to walk after her and gasped when Na-yeon kicked her back so she fell to the floor. There, she started having the same experience as the previous person on the floor as her nose started bleeding and her bones started to crack. Her eyese went red as she reached for Dae-su before she fell to the ground. She suddenly jumped up and lunged at Dae-su but was apprehended quickly by him as he begged her to stop, nearly crying at the loss of his friend.

“We gotta go,” Su-hyeok exclaimed as he continued to hold you back. You’d started hitting him and only were released when you kicked his shin a little too hard and he fell to the floor for a moment. You ran over to where Cheong-san and Gyeong-su were holding the zombified Coach Kang and helped push the desk into him while hurriedly reaching into your pocket.

Everyone started chasing after Na-yeon who had gotten the door opened and was running out. On-jo, Su-hyeok, and the three of you pushing the table into the man against the wall were the last ones in the classroom and you exclaimed a small noise of victory as you’d finally gotten the knife out of your pocket and opened it.

Curse you Gwi-nam, why’d you have to give me a complicated one?

Stabbing the knife into the head of the coach, he dropped dead but before you could indulge in your victory you were getting pulled out of the classroom, you knife forgotten behind in the skull of your previous P.E. teacher.

Su-hyeok shut the doors behind him and the group moved together down the hall toward the stairs until everyone stopped and you ran into Cheong-san’s back. Before you could even realise what was going on, Su-hyeok ran up to the front and did a flying kick into one of the zombies. Not allowing yourself to be useless and let a man of all people show you up, you ran up to the front as well and threw, kicked, and punched the zombies as much as you could, keeping them away from the group while simultaneously making sure you yourself were safe. You allowed yourself to check on Su-hyeok every other second to make sure he was also okay until a zombie somehow had gotten past the two of you and started sprinting towards the group. Running as fast as you could, you tackled the zombie right before it was able to get to Na-yeon who had been crawling backwards after falling to the ground when the zombies first arrived. Another zombie ran toward you and you had to fend off the two of them by yourself, unable to gain assistance from Su-hyeok who was also in a sticky predicament himself.

“Well shit. I never thought I would die from a zombie apocalypse but I guess here we are,” you thought to yourself as you felt your arms get tired and the mouth of the zombie who was on top of you get closer to your arm.

Suddenly, the zombie was struck by something hard in the head and then smacked again so it fell to the floor. You looked up to see Cheong-san was the one who saved you and Gyeong-su ran up to Su-hyeok with a window - the same weapon you now knew Cheong-san used - to help him out. The ones holding the windows ran toward the small herd of zombies and used them as a barricade to hold them off while Dae-su had grabbed a whole classroom door.

“Hey! Get out of the way!” He screamed at the boys and started running toward the herd, swinging the door horizontally and using it as a larger barricade.

Running toward the boys, you slammed into the door as well to push and help them move the zombies backward. The girls looked slightly ashamed that they hesitated to follow after your example.

Turning the corner, the zombies were stuck at the top of the stairs of the floor you were on.

“Girls, upstairs!” Wu-jin screamed at you all and you just rolled your eyes as you forcefully grabbed the back of his shirt and pushed him toward the stairs.

“You first, dumbass!” You retaliated and he wasn’t sure what to say. The rest of the girls sprinted up the stairs as you pushed as hard as you could and were able to successfully knock all the zombies down the small flight of stairs before grabbing two random hands and dragging them toward the stairs as you forced them to go up. Making sure everyone was able to go up the stairs, you almost groaned in annoyance as you saw Su-hyeok, once again, practically sacrificing himself and kicking the zombies. As he fell over, you grabbed his hand and pulled him up before sprinting up the stairs before the zombies could regain control. You couldn’t see it with your eyes focused on the stairs in front of you and how you avoided the miscellaneous zombies as you dragged Su-hyeok behind you, but he was watching you in awe as he had never fully realized the full capacity of your strength.

As you were right behind Wu-jin who had stopped to push back a few zombies with the window piece he had, he got pushed toward the stairs as you started fighting the zombies expertly, avoiding their mouths while keeping the upper hand. Su-hyeok ignored the way you’d yelled at him to follow the others and started helping you kick the zombies back down before grabbing your arm to pull you up the stairs.

As a zombie launched itself at you while you climbed, it attached itself to your foot and you fell over, just barely being able to kick its face away from your ankle where it was aiming to bite you. Cheong-san had seen how you were down and how Su-hyeok had fallen with you.

“Su-hyeok!” He screamed in concern.

Said boy looked up at him before looking back at you and how you kicked the beast away. “Go to the science lab! Now!” He yelled back at him and Cheong-san hesitated before complying. Su-hyeok pulled you up and kicked another zombie away from the two of you before it breached the area where you considered yourself to be relatively safe. The two of you ran hand in hand up the stairs where you saw Su-hyeok’s friends being cornered between two hoardes of zombies. Before you could think to help in anyway, you were tackled from behind, your grip on Su-hyeok’s hands being pulled harshly away.

Su-hyeok’s eyes widened exponentially when he saw how you got attacked and was able to use his quick thinking to pull the monster off just before its teeth could latch onto your neck. Now only worried about your safety as he saw the group run into a classroom that the outside was still covered by zombies with, he grabbed your hand once more, pulling you up and silently apologizing when he heard you wince before pulling you into a room a few doors down from the science room.

The art room.

Ducking down before the zombies in the room could see you and both of you covering your mouths with your hands to quiet your panting, you ducked behind some very well placed desks and filing cabinets on wheels.

After a while of just sitting down and your breathing calming down, Su-hyeok pointed over to where the windows were. You shot him a hesitant glance but knew it was the both of your guys best shots at surviving and making it out of this blood stained room.

Just as Su-hyeok started to move, the speakers started squealing and you both covered your ears from how loud it was. Suddenly, the familiar voice of your teacher Ms. Park filled the classroom as well as the halls.

“Students and teachers of Hyosan High School. I'm Park Sun-hwa, the English teacher. Something strange is happening throughout the school. Some students are attacking others indiscriminately, so please flee and find a safe place. If any student or faculty hears this and is able to, please call the police and the fire department. Students, hide somewhere safe until help arrives. If you can get out of the school, please get out,” her voice started to shake and you felt horrible. This must be terrible for her too. “I'll say it again. Some students are…” She let out a few shaky breaths and Su-hyeok grabbed your hand with a firm but gentle grip, squeezing slightly to reassure you.

“Hey, everyone…” She started again, her voice becoming less professional and now more caring and loving like the teacher you’d come to know. “You're okay, right? You're not hurt? I don't know what's going on in here or how this whole thing happened, but... Still, find a safe place and hide. I… I'm sorry… I can't help.” She started sobbing and despite keeping your face emotionless you could feel a single tear fall down your cheek. “Don't get hurt, okay? Please, let's stay alive and meet again. Okay?”

Let’s meet again.

~~~

| Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 |

~~~

Taglist!

@multifandom-lover01

Lmk if you want to be added or removed!

#all of us are dead #aouad #cheong-san #dae-su #gyeong-su #nam-ra #on-jo #x reader #su hyeok x y/n #canon gwi nam would be such a shit brother

[percheduphere]

So...Thoughts on the whole people thinking Sylvie is Aro-Ace? I can kinda see her being Aromantic, but with her mentioning she's more "hedonistic" than Loki and silently hinting that she's Bi too, can't really see her as Asexual. But what do you think?

LET'S TALK ABOUT SYLVIE'S SEXUALITY, HER RELATIONSHIPS WITH LOKI AND MOBIUS, & HER CONTRIBUTIONS TO THE SERIES NARRATIVE

Before I answer this, I think it's important to acknowledge that fictional characters exist for people's comfort and pleasure. I write original fiction, and I would hope that most artists believe in the right of the audience to interpret character to meet their personal needs. To me, canon is a sandbox. Everyone should play with it as they please and not hate on each other. There are more important things in life to worry about. Therefore, if Sylvie reads as Aro-Ace to you and that reading brings you joy, then she is.

This question inherently requires the need to talk about Sylki in this post. I predominantly analyze Lokius, so please, no hate! My number one rule is never yucking someone's yum. Furthermore, Sylvie plays a critical role in Loki's development and the philosophical thrust of the series, of which Mobius also contributes to as the other half of Loki's character arc equation (selflessness and sparing life [Mobius] + free will and revolution [Sylvie]). It would be biased and disingenuous to not acknowledge her contributions to the overarching narrative.

ARO-ACE INTERPRETATION

All right, your question! I can definitely can see Sylvie as being aro-ace. That's a legitimate interpretation based on how she responds to Loki's flirtation and romantic advances. It is also possible that she's an aromantic bisexual. This second possibility is more likely based on the text the audience is given.

THE CANON TEXT

Having said that, I think you're curious about what the source material is trying to say about Sylvie's character and how that influences her sexuality. I believe it's important to remember that external behavior doesn't dictate how someone defines themselves. Closeting and disengagement from intimacy because of trauma are prime examples of this.

The train scene in S1E4 reads as earnest. Loki and Sylvie are both very lonely characters. In this moment, both are trying to connect with someone who finally understands them because they are the same. It's actually a lovely nod to the queer experience.

The dialogue, lighting, and costuming (blue, purple, pink) in this scene communicates they are both queer, specifically bisexual. The lighting and costuming combining to represent the bisexual pride flag is an example of queer subtext in film. The dialogue, while direct, is also written in such a way that it avoids explicitly stating "men and women." Sylvie later comments that the brief flings she indulges in during apocalypses helped her "keep going". She even specifies that apocalypses make people desperate. This suggests that Sylvie likely didn't need to do much wooing or charming like Loki would to obtain a sexual partner. Finally, the way Tom and Sophie play this scene is vulnerable. I therefore believe we can take this on-screen admission at face value.

So the question becomes, why does Sylvie respond to Loki's flirtations the way she does?

SYLVIE'S BACKGROUND

Sylvie was orphaned and forced to run all her life from a very young age. Her backstory is deeply tragic. To live in such a way means that she never had the opportunity to experience adolescence.

NOTE: This is honestly my favorite gif of Sylvie. She's so sweet and cute when she's happy. I can't get over the 5 stars on her employee badge. "Sylvie, can you refill the straws?" "Already did it!" The sweetheart.

Sylvie working at McDonald's accomplishes two things: it allows Disney to fulfill their advertising sponsorship agreement for the fast-food franchise, and it subtly alludes to Sylvie's need to live the adolescence she didn't get to. The TVA forced her into arrested development. She never had the chance to make friends and safely socialize on her own terms. The centuries of trauma have made trust, let alone romance, completely foreign to her.

Which is why, when Loki and Sylvie have romantic scenes, she is often awkward or, if not unreceptive, wary. Her previous flings, as she agrees with Loki, were "never real". Physical intimacy without emotional intimacy is a familiar dynamic for both characters. Their relationship with one another is their first experience of emotional intimacy (or at least attempt at it) outside of their families. The pursuit of this emotional intimacy feels safe to them because they are the same entity and thus they know each other's base nature (versus nurture!) to some degree.

The difference between them is that Sylvie has not experienced social rejection in the way Loki has (nurture!). She recognizes the wrongness with which the TVA has treated her. She knows the absolute atrocities the TVA has committed. She is determined to destroy them to free herself and all timelines. Sylvie is consequently more self-assured, more confident in what she wants and believes in, than Loki. In S2, Sylvie's clarity on desire is what allows her to help Loki articulate what he wants: his friends back, most especially Mobius.

In S1E1, Loki, still posturing before Mobius, describes himself as a "liberator". At this point in the story, we know that isn't true, but it will become true by the finale. This line of dialogue foreshadows Loki's trajectory as well as Sylvie's revealed motivation in S1E4: to liberate.

THE NEXUS EVENT

There are a variety of ways for viewers to interpret what exactly the Nexus Event was. The canon, within the text of Mobius's dialogue and verbal confirmation from the creators, is that Loki and Sylvie fell in love. Now, I'm not going to spend time arguing over other interpretations here, but I will say that regardless of whatever pairing or OT3 a viewer ships, the Nexus Event was ALSO definitively this: two Lokis in the same place, at the same time, not feeling lonely together.

And Sylvie, who had confessed to Loki she has no friends and has never really experienced joy, answers Renslayer with the number of positive memories she has:

Sylvie doesn't state it outright, but the subtext is clear that her one positive memory was her time with Loki on Lamentis. Indeed, moments later, Sylvie prunes herself in an effort to find and rescue him.

SYLVIE & MOBIUS

But being the harshly pragmatic individual she is, upon arrival and encountering Alioth, Sylvie assumes Loki didn't make it. I don't think Sylvie means what she says in a cruel way. I think she believes this because she is accustomed to disappointment and accordingly guards herself with cynicism. Sylvie's traumas, her difficulty with trust, her inexperience with intimate relationships, and her cynicism all combine to create an individual who may appear aro-ace when that may not necessarily be the case. Please note, however, that Sylvie being aro-ace or aro-bisexual may still be a possibility. My analysis here is based on what the text and subtext seem to be telling us about her character.

Notably, it is Mobius who is more optimistic about Loki's survival, wondering if Sylvie truly believes that Loki is dead.

This moment is brief, but it is significant because Mobius's optimism implies that not only does he believe in Loki, he also wants Loki to be alive. Sylvie is intelligent. She can read between the lines. We can also assume an off-screen conversation took place between them that confirmed for Sylvie Mobius's genuine care for Loki. When Sylvie informs Loki of this fact, I believe we get this:

Mobius was conservative in how Loki might interpret their relationship, extending a handshake before their goodbyes. Loki, on the heels of his conversation with Sylvie, chooses to hug him instead. The result: Mobius is delighted!

I've long pondered on why Mobius would say, "You're my favorite" to Sylvie. I believe this is why: she helped along their friendship and opened the gates for physical affection between them. This demonstrates that Sylvie cares enough for Loki to ensure he is secure in his bond with Mobius. It likely helped that Mobius did not deny the TVA's evil when she pointed it out to him, and that he did not hesitate to apologize to her for it.

Ironically, it is Mobius's optimism, especially in the potential of broken things to become something better (whether it is Loki himself or the TVA), that creates the fraught philosophical divide between Sylvie and Mobius (and Loki) with regards to the TVA in S2.

THE S1 FINALE

The S2 finale is where the narrative between Loki and Sylvie turns, and the plot pivots to the deepening relationship between Loki and Mobius. Triggering this event is Loki's desire to slow down and think about the consequences of killing HWR in the Citadel at The End of Time.

This may seem out-of-character at first glance. S1E1-E4 have demonstrated that Loki's decision making is sometimes chaotic by virtue of impulse. What was the last impulsive decision he made with heavy consequences?

He ran off after Sylvie. A good decision ultimately, as Loki learns the truth about the TVA through Sylvie, but only by luck. This decision very nearly cost Loki a friendship, one he didn't even realize he had until Mobius called him a "bad friend."

Despite the fallout, Mobius recovers relatively quickly once he confirms Loki's claims and views Ravonna's recording of C-20. He reestablishes trust with Loki as soon as possible to help Loki be with the one he loves. Why? Because Mobius is ultimately selfless and wants Loki's happiness regardless of his own feelings of jealousy.

Which circles us back to the theme of trust and Sylvie's challenges with it.

Loki and Sylvie's relationship falls apart not because of lack of mutual interest, but because Sylvie loses trust in Loki and with good reason: HWR (and thus the TVA) is the cause of all her suffering.

It is not Sylvie's fault she is this way. She hasn't had enough time to develop meaningful relationships, and the one relationship that was meaningful to her (Loki's) became, in her eyes, a profound betrayal. This experience only adds to the other traumas Sylvie carries with her, making encounters with Loki in S2 emotionally difficult if not triggering.

The relationships of Loki & Sylvie and Loki & Mobius are intentionally set side-by-side for 3 critical reasons:

1.) To demonstrate Loki's growth by developing trust and thus emotional intimacy with others.

2.) To create the Plot B emotional source of conflict in S2.

3.) To set-up Mobius and Sylvie's individual beliefs and values (selflessness and sparing life [Mobius] + free will and revolution [Sylvie]), which Loki combines into his own system of beliefs and values. This combination gives Loki the strength and wisdom to ascend the throne and become the God of Stories (and Time).

THE S2 FINALE

Loki comes to his final decision after speaking with the two halves of his character arc equation. Loki first seeks out Mobius, who shares with him the distinction between himself and Ravonna. Now, this is brainwashed Mobius. Brainwashed Mobius believed Ravonna could do the impossible while he couldn't. But Loki knows Ravonna's corruption.

Beneath Mobius's wisdom that "most purpose is more burden than glory" is also Mobius's heart: he could not prune children and that instinct was the right decision. His "failure" was not a failure of duty but rather his humanity succeeding despite the brainwashing. It's this same intrinsic compassion that drove Mobius to convince Ravonna to spare Loki. Loki articulates this to Don as such. He therefore takes the message of selflessness and sparing life from Mobius to Sylvie.

Sylvie, in turn, challenges Loki, stating they should have the freedom and right to fight whatever comes on their own terms.

She also stresses that it is all right to destroy things. Upon hearing this, Loki comes to the conclusion that what is destroyed must be replaced with something better. What needs to be destroyed? Not the TVA and the people in it (not Mobius, Verity, OB, and Casey), but the Loom.

Loki sacrificed himself (selflessness + sparing life [Mobius]) in order to save all timelines (free will + revolution [Sylvie]). Loki sparing Sylvie's life is a direct consequence of Mobius having fought to spare his.

Through this sacrifice, Loki gifts Sylvie the chance to get the type of positive experiences she wants and needs, which includes future romance, if she so chooses. That is canon and is a genuinely romantic gesture regardless of anyone's interpretation of mutual reciprocation or lack thereof.

It is also canon that Loki loves Mobius and Mobius loves Loki. Their actions for one another across both seasons demonstrate this to be true. Is it also romantic? Absolutely. Is it sexual? On screen, no, and it doesn't have to be. Romance does not require sex, let alone physical contact, to exist.

Loki loves them both.

#loki #sylvie #loki series #loki meta #my meta #loki season 2 #lokius #mobius #loki spoilers