#I AM SO GODDAMN EXCITED FOR TOMORROW

[autixel]

This is me spiritually today

[roboyomo]

malleable + holy smokes with a touch of hyperfixated

!!! YIPPEEEEE ^_^ can confirm i Can be summoned. Just mention sonic somewhere and i'll appear there in mere seconds all shaking out of excitement.

[depresseddepot]

I have yet to make sourdough bread that meets my standards for bread BUT I love my sourdough starter like a son

[milesdadworth]

OH OKAY OKAY OKAY THEN

2-3 COMPLETED AND THEYRE?!?!?

AGAIN WAS REALLY NOT EXPECTING THEM TO HANDLE KAZUMA LIKE THIS LMAO

I THOUGHT THEY WERE CONTINUE TO DROP BREADCRUMBS ABT KAZUMA AND EVERYTHING A LITTLE WHILE LONGER

well and i suppose they absolutely still are because there's still so many questions lol but was not expecting them to address/fix kazuma's amnesia this fast and have the two of them meet face to face before like the final case of the game -- again that expectation I guess comes from Godot's whole schtick being obvious but not confirmed til the end of the game

THREE CHEERS FOR THE PACING OF THIS GAME!!!!! THANK YOU FOR NOT SHOVING IT ALL AT THE END!!!!!!!

also holy shit fuck stronghart for presumably knowing everything and still giving kazuma to van zieks....... at least he had the decency of giving him a mask but uh..... jesus christ that is a cruel fucking thing to do holy shit what is his fucking DAMAGE against van zieks !?!!? bro is a sadistic psychopath !?!?!?

but thank u van zieks for finally giving us the 'i'm not racist' speech lmao or at least 'i'm racist but as a trauma response oops'

also speaking of van zieks. ohhhhh he is really a big softie seeing him worried and eager to protect albert holy shit before this case I always wondered about this ship and if it was a crack ship just because how different the two of them are and how silly goofy albert is/looks but omg they're actually really sweet........

ALBERT WANTED TO RECONNECT AND STAY AND SEE THE EXHIBITION W HIMMMMM

AND INSTEAD HE WANTS TO PERSONALLY ESCORT ALBERT TO DOVER TO MAKE SURE HE GETS OUT OF THE COUNTRY SAFELY SO HE'S NOT TAKEN BY THE REAPERS CURSE AGWHEAAGIEUFHAWOEFIJ OH WHAT A SOFTIEEEEEE

legit SO impressed and surprised how tgaa is handling thing with regards to [redacted] like?!?!?

(under a keep reading to try to avoid posting spoilers too hard lol)

LIKE going into these games we knew kazuma 'dies' but is 'resurrected' in the last half of the story but with the way ace attorney usually is or hell even how dense they make ryuu with some of the evidence/plot points I was expecting kazuma's whole revival to go largely unnoticed by ryuu and susato until some big reveal where kazuma removes his mask and cloak and they're like WHOA HOW CAN THIS BE?!!?!? YOU WERE DEAD!!!!!

and theyre not???? like BOTH susato and ryunosuke immediately clock him as kazuma despite the cloak and mask?? SUSATO LITERALLY YELLING 'KAZUMA-SAMA' AT HIM IN BROAD DAYLIGHT IN FRONT OF VAN ZIEKS?!?

it's like a really pleasant surprise and twist to something I thought I had a good handle on how the story was gonna go

maybe it really shocked me cause of how godot/diego was handled in the original series where it was kind of a last minute reveal even though us as an audience kind of already know so it was like 'ah another masked dead loved one coming back from the dead that no one's going to piece together until our hand is forced'

good ol' ace attorney spoilers alway panning out a little differently than I expect - god bless this series

i'm really excited now to see how this pans out especially with sholmes being in on it in someway and definitely making me think of some juicy angst/hurt ryulock where ryuu has confided in sholmes all about the grief of losing his first love and then ryuu finding out later that sholmes knew all along that kazuma wasn't really dead.....and the trust issues that come with that oh man, oh man, oh man. I can't wait!!!!!

[mrfoox]

My boy... Fabian... Needs help im crying

[lulunothulu]

“Jealousy, jealousy” pt. 2

Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader

@86laura11: Oh my gosh. I want more. What’s next? Does Kate apologize to her friend? Does Tyler take her on a real date? I need to know.

Summary: After a night of pizza and talking, Tyler finally asks you out on a proper date—asking Kate to help you get ready.

Content: just cute fluff

Part one

Both you and Tyler finished off the pizza he brought in under thirty minutes, realizing you both skipped dinner. Now, sprawled across your bed, you and Tyler look up at the popcorn ceiling.

“That was really good,” he tells you. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

You groan. “I think I might burst.”

Tyler laughs, propping himself on one arm and facing you. Your hair was down—strew around your head like sun rays—and your face content.

You were goddamn beautiful.

“So I have a question,” Tyler starts.

You turn to face him, almost surprised that he’s as handsome up close as he was far away. You couldn’t believe this was happening, much less that he had something to ask you.

“What is it?” You respond, propping yourself on your elbow, the same way Tyler did.

“Well…I was wonderin’,” he starts, southern drawl catching on his tongue. “Would you maybe…whenever you’re free…wanna go out on a date with me?”

Your heart began to pound on your chest. Excitement and joy bubble up your spine and you smile at Tyler widely.

“Yes, I’d love that.”

“Are you free tomorrow?” He asks.

“I’m sure Javi and Kate wouldn’t mind if I skipped out tomorrow,” you tell him.

Tyler’s eyes widen, he forgot about Kate. What if you were still mad at her for what she did?

“Let me text them,” you tell him.

You:Guys….

Kate:Y/N…?

Javi:Are you okay?

You:Jake just asked me out…

Kate: HOLY SHIT HE FINALLY DID IT.

You: wait… you knew?

Kate: why tf do you think I was talking to him?

Javi: do I have to be here for this?

You: yes.

Kate: YES.

You: Kate, can you come over after the leaves in a bit? Also is it okay if I skip out tomorrow, Javi?

Kate: Sounds good.

Javi: Sure

You turn to Tyler who’s still watching you with a smile and feel the blush creep up.

“They, uh, said it was alright to skip out,” you tell him.

He chuckles, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Sounds good, Sweetheart.”

He rolls off the bed, standing in front of you to help you up. With his hand offering to help you, you take it and are swiftly hoisted up to your feet.

Tyler pulled you too hard though, because you feel yourself crashing into his hard chest. You look up at him, startled. He looks down at you, amused.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at 11,” he tells you, kissing your cheek before walking toward your door.

You’re still vibrating from his kiss when you realize something.

Did he say 11 as in, 11 AM?

“11 AM?” You ask.

Tyler just nods, winking your way and walking out the door.

Not even a minute later, your door rattles as someone knocks on your door.

You smile, walking toward the door and swinging it open to find Kate standing there, excitedly beaming at you.

“Oh my god! He just came from your room!” She beams.

“Yeah,” you say. “We had pizza for dinner.”

You let her in, watching as she takes a deep breath before turning around to face you. Her face is now riddled in remorse, brows furrowing together.

“I’m sorry,” she starts. “About making you cry.”

You wave her off. “It’s fine, I’m about to start my period soon. I’m just hormonal.”

“Are you sure?” She asks.

“I mean, the plan was to get me jealous. And it worked,” you laugh. “It worked big time.”

Kate smiles at you before shaking your head and pulling you into a hug. “I really am sorry.”

You hug her tightly. “It’s okay, really. How could I stay mad at you when I have a date with Tyler tomorrow morning?”

She pulls you back, smile back on her face mixed with confusion. “Morning?”

You only shrug.

———

The next morning, Tyler’s up bright and early.

10 AM to be exact.

He wanted to be ready for your date aaaand he still needed to get your number.

As quietly as he can, Tyler tiptoes to the motel door he and Boone share before opening it and sneaking out. He walks toward Javi’s room, knocking when he arrives.

Javi answers the door, rubbing his eyes. “Dude, what the hell?”

“Sorry, can I have Y/N’s number?” He asks.

“Did you forget to ask last night?” Javi smiles.

Tyler’s about to respond, but stops when he hears, “Javi? Who’s at the door?”

From behind Javi walks Kate, wearing one of Javi’s shirts. Tyler’s brows raise, a smile forming on his lips.

“You and Kate?” He asks.

“Here’s her number,” Kate smiles, handing him a piece of paper with your number on it.

Tyler smiles, waving them goodbye before checking his watch.

10:20 AM.

He figured he would go to the diner across the street for some coffee before texting you.

Tyler walks into the diner, surveying the place before stopping when he finds you sitting in the booth in the back.

You’re wearing a lilac sundress and your hair cascades around your shoulders as you sip your coffee.

Tyler approaches, a wide smile plastered on his face. “Well, what brings you here?”

You look up at him and he could’ve sworn you looked even more beautiful than normal.

Your cheeks are rosy, face covered in light makeup that accentuates your already gorgeous face, and your lips are a natural pinky color.

“Wow,” he gawks. “You—you look just…wow.”

You smile up at him and he could’ve sworn he melted away.

“Thank you,” you respond, your sweet voice singing into his ears.

Tyler clears his throat. “Are you ready?”

You nod, slipping out of the booth and watching as Tyler tosses some bills on the table.

“Let’s get out of here, sweetheart.”

———

Tyler drove you almost an hour away into a small town full of Gilmore Girls-esque house and people.

“I cannot believe you just found this random town,” you marvel.

You’d both been walking around town after a quick brunch at a local diner.

Tyler’s hand kept brushing against yours as you walked, looking at all the shops.

“Yeah,” he tells you. “I’d seen it a few days ago and thought it would be a great place to just walk around with you.”

You glance up at him, a smile already on your lips.

“You’ve been planning this for days?”

Tyler looks down at you, stopping to face you completely. He’s wearing his white cowboy hat, his signature flannel, and jeans paired with boots. He looks normal but different at the same time.

Yet, he’s taking your breath away.

“I have been,” he admits. “I’ve been planning this for longer than then to be honest.”

“How long?” You ask.

He rubs the back of his neck. “Since the first day I met you.”

“That was almost a month ago!” You laugh.

He only shrugs. “I knew what I wanted the moment you scowled at me from the back seat of your truck.”

You laughed, remembering how he had driven next Javi trying to beat you all in getting to a tornado. You remember his eyes on you and your scowl when he winked at you.

“I knew you’d be a tough one to crack after that,” he finishes. “When did you know you liked me?”

You grab his hand in yours, feeling the roughness of the callouses on his palm.

“That night when you came to apologize for stealing the tornado out from under us,” you reply.

Tyler laughs. “Yeah, I guess that must’ve sweetened the sour feelings you had about me.”

“Even more so when you told Scott off for yelling at Javi, Kate, and I,” you admit.

After Tyler stole the tornado from you guys, Scott was a raging mess. Angry that Javi didn’t drive fast enough, Kate for not sending the second one you could’ve gone after, and you for not seeing it on the radar.

Tyler walked right up to Scott, telling him to back off and you could’ve sworn your heart grew four times its size that night.

“Yeah,” he smiles, reminiscing on the argument. “I couldn’t let him talk down to my girl.”

You smile up at him. How could you have gotten so lucky?

“Well, I’m glad you did,” you whisper, watching as something clicks behind Tyler’s eyes.

His eyes search yours before falling to your lips. “Y/N—”

“Yes,” you simply say.

“I didn’t even get to—”

“Tyler just kiss me,” you order.

Tyler chuckles, pulling you into him and lifting you to his level. “Alright, Sweetheart.”

Lips connect with yours, sweet and soft. They move, urging to get to now every inch of them while you allow yourself to relax in Tyler’s arms.

When Tyler’s stubble tickles your nose, sending you into a little fit of giggles, he pulls away.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, still smiling.

“Your stubble tickles,” you laugh.

“I can shave tonight.”

You oil him back into your lips, pecking softly and then pulling him in for a deeper kiss. Only pulling away to smile at him.

“Don’t you dare.”

[plasticflowersinahistorycemetery]

exhibitionism

part IV

Pairing: SugarDaddy!Ben x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're settling into something you don’t fully understand, but it feels too good to question—too intoxicating to resist. Ben’s world is bleeding into yours, shaping it, owning it. He gives, and you take, but you’re starting to realise that nothing he gives is without cost. Doesn't matter how much that drink was anyway.

Warnings: 18+!, Ben once again being his own warning, age gap, language, misogyny, drug consumption, smut (kissing, biting, marking, slapping, dirty talk, clitoral stimulation, overstim, forced orgasms, fingering, handjob, cunnilingus/oral, p in v, cum on face, throttling, rough sex, semi-public sex, somnophilia, sexsomnia, dub-con), mind games, manipulation, degradation, power imbalance, I may have missed some. (There's a bunch in this one, agh!)

Word Count: 6,697

A/N: Besties, when I tell you this took everything from me... I mean it wholeheartedly. Burnout has officially hit, and my brain feels like goddamn mush right now. I'm not even sure I proofread this properly smh. I'm not sure I'll get time to fully write the next instalment tomorrow because I've got a super busy workday, tons of appointments, but I will probably get partway started on it. Lil appearance from more of The Boys in this one, only brief mentions, but I like integrating them into this AU. Like a lil easter egg, teheh. <3 And the foreshadowing from Butcher at the end was the part I got most excited about, honestly. Cryptic motherfucker, always. The fic ain't called "exhibitionism" for nothing. 👀 You know the drill: if all the warnings listed above aren't evident yet, they will be. And please let me know what y'alls thoughts are. I am so grateful to each and every one of you for reading the utter sewage my brain creates. Signing off, until the next one. All the love.

Without further ado: EXHIBITIONISM

Power is not taken. It is given.

A glance across the bar. A drink set down without a word. A hand at the small of your back, guiding you somewhere you don’t belong.

It starts small—a single indulgence, a breathless yes.

Then, suddenly, you are on display. Draped over his lap, diamonds at your throat, whiskey on your lips. A possession. A prize. A thing to be seen.

Because men like him do not love. They own.

Morning crept in slow and golden, stretching lazy fingers of light through the blinds, spilling across the tangled sheets and the expanse of your bare skin.

The air smelled like him—cologne and sweat and sin—clinging to your body, to the silk of his pillows, sinking deep into your bones. You stirred, muscles aching in ways that made your stomach clench with something warm and satisfied, stretching like a cat before finally rolling out of bed.

The penthouse was quiet, except for the distant hum of the city far below. Your steps were soft against the cool marble as you padded into the kitchen, rubbing the last remnants of sleep from your eyes. That’s when you saw it—

A small note on the counter, scrawled in what you assumed was Butcher’s blunt handwriting, sitting beside a Plan B.

Ben’s smirk was already curling at the corner of his mouth when you turned to find him leaning against the counter, watching you with that lazy, knowing amusement. He pushed off with an easy roll of his shoulders, stepping into your space, patting your ass before grabbing a glass from the cupboard.

“Go on then,” he murmured, filling the glass with water and pressing it into your hands. “Take it.”

You scowled at him, but you swallowed the pill anyway, washing it down under his watchful gaze. He looked too damn pleased with himself, grinning as he pressed a slow kiss to your temple before ushering you towards the shower.

The water was steaming by the time you both stepped in, the morning unfurling in quiet touches, hands gliding over slick skin, fingers threading through hair, the press of lips at the nape of your neck. It was unhurried, indulgent, all the urgency of the night before tempered into something softer, something that felt dangerously close to domestic.

By the time you were dressed, Ben had already decided breakfast was happening at some ridiculous rooftop restaurant, the kind that overlooked the city, all glass and steel and expensive finishes. He ordered coffee and something hearty, sipping slow while you picked at fruit and yogurt, the conversation easy, teasing, laced with the occasional knowing glance that had heat curling in your stomach.

After breakfast, you met up with Butcher, who wasted no time pulling up photos of apartments closer to Ben’s building.

“This one,” Ben said, barely glancing at the others before nodding at the one with the small, covered balcony. The space was perfect—something about the idea of you sitting out in the rain, curled up with a book, had him making the decision in seconds.

Then it was back to his penthouse, back to tangled sheets and tangled limbs, the hours slipping by in a haze of heat and slick skin, moans swallowed by deep, open-mouthed kisses. He left you completely spent, fucked out and boneless, only pausing his grumbling long enough to drive you back to your apartment. The whole ride was a steady stream of muttered complaints about your neighbourhood, about how it was a goddamn miracle you hadn’t been mugged yet, about how he was getting you the fuck out of there.

“Class schedule.”

You blinked at him, still dazed, before rattling it off. He grunted, nodding. “I’ll send some people over when you get back tomorrow to start packin’ your shit.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he wasn’t done.

“You need any more textbooks?”

That did it. Your face softened, eyes going wide and warm, something fluttering in your chest that you couldn’t quite suppress.

Ben saw it. And he smirked. “Christ, look at you,” he drawled, laughing, shaking his head. “You didn’t make that face when I bought you a whole fuckin’ wardrobe, but mention some books and you’re about ready to cream yourself.”

You huffed, shoving at his chest, but he caught your wrist, yanking you in for one last kiss, deep and slow, like he was trying to swallow you whole.

The next morning, you fell into a rhythm. You sent him a picture of two outfits, and he picked the jeans and the blouse.

Monday was lectures, the familiar comfort of academia wrapping around you like a second skin. Literature, language, the hum of the NYU campus filling your lungs like fresh air. You read in a café, met up with Hughie from Language, and Frenchie and Kimiko from Lit for lunch, an easy camaraderie settling between you before you all went your separate ways.

When you got home, a team was already waiting, efficiently packing up your apartment, boxing up memories, folding your life into neat stacks ready to be moved.

Tuesday followed the same rhythm, though the day was punctuated with texts from Ben. Filthy. Teasing. Full of smug impatience.

Bet that professor of yours wouldn’t be able to finish his lecture if he knew what you let me do to you.

And—

You gotten yourself all wet thinking about me yet, baby?

By noon, he demanded nudes, and you had to send them from a bathroom stall between classes, biting your lip as you hit send, warmth flooding through you at the immediate, possessive response.

Wednesday, everything was packed and ready. Ben showed up in the morning to meet your landlord, wrapping up the lease without a second glance, barely disguising his disgust at the place. His presence filled the almost-empty apartment, making it seem even smaller, even less yours.

Thursday, you moved.

The new apartment was waiting, the transition seamless, orchestrated by Ben’s efficient, silent influence. And standing there, at the front door, you realised something—you weren’t just moving apartments. You were moving into something entirely new.

And that was fucking daunting.

You hesitated in the doorway, heart thudding against your ribs, fingers curling into your palms. The apartment was perfect—too perfect. Light poured in through the massive windows, catching on soft pastels and warm wood, the carefully curated balance of elegance and comfort. It felt like you in a way that your old apartment never had.

And that was the part that terrified you.

Your breath came slow and uneven as you stepped inside, eyes scanning over the furniture, your furniture—only better.

Your little cream love seat and vintage armchair were there, the pastel pillows and soft throws draped just as you liked them—but there was a new sofa too. Big. Plush.

But the new dining table caught your attention—matching chairs, sleek but cozy, nothing like the old mismatched ones you’d made do with.

And then there was the bookshelf. Massive. Elegant. Full. Every book of yours finally had a home, instead of being stacked in chaotic, unstable towers on the floor.

“Jesus,” you breathed, barely above a whisper, stepping deeper inside.

Behind you, Ben leaned in the doorway, arms crossed, smug as all fuck, watching you take it in.

“Not bad, huh?”

You turned to glare at him, but it didn’t hold any heat. He knew what he’d done. Knew exactly how overwhelming this was for you. His lips curled, just barely, and he straightened, moving inside with slow, predatory steps, following your path through the space like a shadow.

The kitchen was next—a fucking upgrade. Marble counters, brass fixtures, farmhouse sink, all sleek and way too fucking nice for someone like you. Your fingers drifted along the counter’s cool surface, trying to ground yourself, but Ben’s heat was already at your back, pressing in close.

He exhaled against your ear. “Y’gonna stare at ‘em all day or let me fuck you against ‘em?”

You sucked in a sharp breath, shaking your head, moving away before you let yourself melt. The bathroom was next, and it sealed your fate.

A clawfoot tub. Deep, luxurious, like something out of a fucking dream.

Your stomach twisted. You turned to face him, voice uneven. “Ben, I—”

But he was already grinning, leaning against the doorframe like he was enjoying the hell out of this.

“Keep goin’, sweetheart,” he drawled, gesturing lazily. “Ain’t even seen the best part yet.”

Your jaw clenched, but your feet carried you forward anyway. The bedroom felt like stepping into a dreamscape. The silk bedding, pastel and delicate, the new wardrobe and dresser already stocked with your things. He’d kept your lightwood bed, but everything else was elevated, just enough to make it clear that this was different.

Your throat felt tight. Too much. Too fucking much.

The last thing left was the balcony.

And the second you stepped outside, you broke.

The hanging chair, the plants, the fairy lights, the small bistro table—all of it settled into you like a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. The soft scent of flowers mixed with the distant city air, the quiet promise of solitude. The moment you took it in, really took it in, you whipped around and smashed your lips to his.

Ben caught you instantly, groaning into your mouth, gripping you like he’d been waiting for you to crack. Your fingers dug into his shirt, his arms cinched tight around your waist, his heat overwhelming every last thought in your head.

When you finally broke away, your breath was ragged. “I can’t—” You swallowed, chest heaving. “I can’t let you pay for this. How much even is this place?”

Ben just fucking laughed.

One hand gripped your jaw, tilting your face up so you had to look at him, so smug you wanted to slap him and fuck him at the same time.

“Doesn’t fuckin’ matter,” he murmured, kissing along your jaw, nipping at your neck. “Chump change, sweetheart.”

You gasped as his teeth scraped your pulse, your hands clutching at his biceps as he backed you into the railing, pressing you firmly against the cool metal.

“Now,” he continued, voice a low, dangerous purr, “Let’s go christen every fuckin’ room.”

You barely had time to breathe before he was hauling you inside, dragging you straight to the living room, lips crashing into yours, devouring you like he was starving. Your back hit the love seat, his hands everywhere, pulling at your clothes. Tugging. Gripping. Taking.

Then it was the kitchen. He shoved you up against the marble counters, hands groping under your thighs, lifting you effortlessly onto the cool stone. His mouth was hot and demanding, moving down your throat, his hands already slipping under your clothes, pushing them aside.

He kissed you in the bathroom, bent you over the sink, his breath ragged against your ear as he whispered, “Gonna wreck you against every fuckin’ surface in this place, doll.”

Then it was the bedroom, your back hitting silk sheets, his weight pressing you deep into the mattress, hips grinding down, lips bruising against yours, murmuring filthy things about ruining these nice new sheets with you.

By the time he dragged you back out to the balcony, sweat-slick and completely spent, your head was spinning. The apartment smelled like heat and sex and him.

Ben was grinning, tucking his face into your neck, voice still wrecked from hours of claiming you.

“There,” he murmured, pressing one last possessive kiss to your throat. “Now it smells like home.”

The night air was crisp against your sweat-slick skin, the city stretching out below in endless neon veins, blinking and alive, thrumming beneath your feet like a pulse.

The scent of him clung to you—smoke and sweat, sex and heat—woven into your very being. You stood on the balcony, caught in the quiet aftermath, his body flush against yours, heat radiating from every point of contact between you.

Ben exhaled hard, fingers flexing on your waist before he reached for his pack of cigarettes, sliding one between his teeth before offering you the pack. He didn’t say anything, just held it out like it was expected, like it was second nature to include you in his vices now.

You hesitated for a second, then plucked one free. He smirked around the cigarette between his lips, flicking his lighter open with one smooth movement. The flame caught in his eyes, sharp and knowing, and he let it burn just long enough to make you wait before lighting yours too.

The first drag filled your lungs, burning hot, the nicotine grounding you in the moment. You exhaled slow, watching the smoke curl into the night air before swallowing hard.

“This is… a lot.” Your voice came quieter than you meant it to. “I feel bad letting you pay for all this.”

Ben scoffed, shaking his head as he leaned back against the railing, one arm still looped around your waist, keeping you close.

“Already told you, sweetheart,” he muttered around his cigarette, voice rough and amused. “It’s chump change.”

You frowned, taking another slow drag before exhaling through your nose. “It’s just… it’s a bit daunting, you know?” You glanced up at him, then back out at the skyline. “I only met you six nights ago, and now I live in a whole new place.”

Ben said nothing, just watched you with that unreadable expression, eyes dark and steady, cigarette smouldering between his fingers.

You sighed, your free hand curling against his chest, absently tracing the fabric of his shirt. “I guess I’m just worried it won’t work out, and then I’ll be out on my ass with no safety net.” You huffed a humourless laugh, shaking your head.

“I don’t wanna have to crawl back to my parents and tell them they were right.” Your jaw tensed, voice sharpening. “Not that I fucking would.”

Ben cut you off before you could spiral further.

“You’re never gonna be out on your ass again.”

The way he said it—flat. Firm. Absolute—made something in your stomach twist.

You turned your head, brows drawing together. “Ben?”

He exhaled smoke, slow and steady, his free hand dragging over your hip, slipping beneath your shirt to spread wide against your bare skin. He wasn’t looking at you, not at first, just watching the city lights like he was making a decision in real-time. Then, finally, he turned his head, gaze locking onto yours with a certainty that sent a shiver down your spine.

“You haven’t even known me a week,” you murmured, searching his face. “How do you know you’re not gonna find some prettier, better girl and wanna turf me out?”

The look he gave you—sharp, incredulous, disgusted like you’d said something offensive—had your stomach flipping.

“There ain’t a fuckin’ prettier girl,” he said, making a face, like the very suggestion was absurd. “And there sure as fuck ain’t a better one.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

He shifted, cigarette dangling from his lips as his hand on your waist tightened, his voice dipping into something low, possessive, dangerous.

“You’re fuckin’ everything I’ve been lookin' for.” His fingers flexed, grip unrelenting, pulling you closer. “Smart, funny, fuckin’ gorgeous.” His lips curled around the words, dragging them out like he wanted to carve them into your skin.

“You fuck like a whore and take everythin' I give you—” His breath ghosted hot against your jaw as he leaned in. “—and still look up at me like you want more.”

Your pulse roared.

Ben smirked, watching the way your body reacted to his words, the way your thighs pressed together just slightly, how your fingers tightened around your cigarette.

He inhaled deeply, exhaled slow, smoke swirling around both of you before he nudged your chin up with two fingers, gaze dark and unreadable.

“Finish your smoke,” he murmured, voice dropping into something lower, lazier, filthy with certainty. “Look at the pretty lights. And stop that girly little brain of yours from worryin' too much.”

You let out a breath—half a laugh, half surrender, shaking your head.

“You’re a dick,” you muttered, but the words held no real bite.

He grinned, smug and knowing. “And you're a fuckin' pussy.”

You rolled your eyes, but leaned into him, letting your body mould against his, warmth seeping between you as the city sparkled below. The lights blinked in the distance, twinkling like something out of a dream, like something unreal, but his hand on your waist was solid, his breath against your temple real, grounding you in the moment.

You took another slow drag from your cigarette, exhaling against his throat, lips parting—

And fuck it.

You turned your head, caught his jaw, kissed him slow and deep, your hand curling into the collar of his shirt.

Ben groaned into your mouth, fingers digging into your waist, claiming, gripping, owning.

You let yourself melt into it, into him, into the feeling of standing there, high above the city, wrapped up in the most dangerous man you’d ever met.

And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself believe that maybe—just maybe—you’d landed exactly where you were supposed to be.

The night settled around you, thick and quiet, the kind of quiet that came with expensive insulation and the weight of being somewhere that finally felt safe. The apartment smelled like fresh sheets, lingering traces of sex, and the faint burn of nicotine from earlier. You were still reeling, still trying to make sense of it all—the space, the luxury, him—but Ben wasn’t giving you the time to overthink it.

You were curled up on the new couch, legs tucked beneath you, one of your pastel throws draped over your lap. Ben had his arm slung across the back of the sofa, casual, lazy, like he owned the place. Like he owned you.

And maybe he did. You just hadn’t figured it out yet.

His eyes tracked over you, slow, assessing, fingers idly rubbing at his knee. “What time you in class tomorrow?”

You blinked, pulling your thoughts back to the present. “Uh… first lecture’s at eight.”

Ben’s mouth curled, something smug and knowing glinting in his eyes. “Good. I’m stayin’ the night.”

You tilted your head at him, curious. “You are?”

“Yeah.” He stretched, then smirked, shrugging like it was already decided. “Don’t gotta be up ‘til five. Sleepin’ in, really.”

You exhaled a laugh, shaking your head. “That’s sleeping in?”

“For me, yeah.” He flicked his eyes back over to you, watching you shift in your seat, processing what it meant. That he was staying here. With you. Like this was his bed, his space, his routine to alter.

You pursed your lips, rolling the thought over in your head. “What do you do, exactly?”

Ben’s smirk twitched into something a little sharper, a little less amused. “Not important.”

It didn't really catch you off guard, he'd said the same thing when you'd asked before, but you were curious so you pressed. “It is important.”

That made him pause. His head tilted, eyes narrowing just slightly, like he was trying to decide if he should be irritated by that answer. “Oh yeah?”

You swallowed, curling your fingers into the blanket. “You said part of this… deal between us is that I look after you.” You shifted, looking at him pointedly. “That means I should know what you do. So I can help you unwind if you’re stressed. So you can talk to me about things.”

That made him laugh.

Low, throaty, dark amusement curling through his chest, rolling out like it tasted fucking sweet. His head tipped back against the couch, one hand dragging over his jaw as he exhaled.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, shaking his head before glancing back at you, all teeth and smirking condescension. “You really are a sweet little thing, huh?”

Your jaw tensed, but you waited.

Ben shifted, stretching out a little more, taking his time. Making you wait for it.

“S’nothin' exciting,” he finally said, dragging the words out slow, like they weren’t worth rushing over. “Just run the family business.”

You frowned. “What’s your family’s business?”

He huffed a short, amused breath, then looked at you, dead serious. “I own America’s fuckin’ backbone.”

You blinked. “Huh?”

That earned you a smug, lazy grin.

Ben leaned in, voice dipping into that classic-asshole-dirty-talk tone, the kind that made heat settle low in your stomach, even when you wanted to roll your eyes.

“Steel, baby,” he muttered, voice rich, thick with that heavy arrogance. “My company builds the cities you fuckin’ live in. Highways, bridges, skyscrapers—if it stands in this country, odds are, it’s got my fuckin’ name on it.”

You stared at him, lips parting slightly. “You… run a steel company?”

Ben just smirked, watching you.

“Own it.” He let the words hang for a second, savouring the weight of them before adding, “Some of the biggest manufacturers in the country? They bend over and kiss my fuckin’ boots for a contract.”

Your stomach flipped.

Of course. Of fucking course. The power, the arrogance, the complete refusal to accept no for an answer? It all made sense.

“So,” you started, voice light, playful. “You’re a glorified construction worker?”

Ben let out a short, sharp laugh, eyes flashing with something predatory as he leaned in, bringing his mouth right against your ear.

“You keep runnin’ that smart little mouth,” he murmured, breath hot against your skin, “and I’ll show you exactly how hard I work, doll.”

A full-body shudder rolled through you.

Ben grinned, sitting back, completely unbothered, watching your reaction like it delighted him.

Your lips twitched, shaking your head as you let out a breath, looking away before you did something stupid like climb into his lap and beg him to prove it.

This man was going to fucking ruin you.

The first yawn slipped out before you could catch it, your body betraying you in the warm lull of the evening. You tried to stifle it behind your hand, blinking sluggishly, but Ben saw. Of course, he saw.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just watched you with that lazy, predatory gaze, like he was waiting, tracking every little sign of fatigue settling in your limbs. Then, with no warning, he scooped you up like you weighed absolutely nothing, one strong arm locking under your thighs, the other bracing around your back.

A small yelp caught in your throat as your arms flew around his neck. “Ben—”

“C’mon,” he muttered, already striding toward the bedroom, completely unfazed. “Almost bedtime.”

You exhaled a laugh, already half-melting into him, the warmth of his body lulling you further into exhaustion. “You’re such a caveman.”

Ben huffed, the sound thick with amusement, but then his grip tightened slightly, and he dipped his head, voice dropping into that gravelly, smug rasp right against your ear.

“Yeah? Well, I need to get my beard wet first.”

Your breath hitched, heat flashing through your spine like a whip-crack.

Jesus fucking Christ.

You were sleepy, blushing, but that didn’t stop your thighs from pressing together, from your fingers clenching a little tighter in the fabric of his shirt. Because it didn’t matter how disgusting his mouth was—how filthy, how utterly depraved—you loved words. And he knew that.

The bastard smirked when he felt you squirm, his grip flexing possessively around your thigh, squeezing just enough to remind you who you belonged to.

You didn’t argue.

Didn’t protest when he dropped you onto the bed, didn’t say a word when he grabbed the waistband of your bottoms and peeled them off with zero ceremony, like they were a fucking obstacle. The heat in your face only deepened as he dragged you to the edge of the mattress, pulling your hips up so your ass was barely on the bed, your legs draped over his shoulders.

Then he sank to his knees.

And he got to work.

The first long, sloppy, groaning lap of his tongue had your back arching off the mattress. The second had your fingers clawing at the sheets, a sharp gasp escaping your lips. He was so fucking messy, open-mouthed and hungry, tongue and lips and teeth everywhere, greedy and filthy like he was eating the meal he’d been craving all damn day.

“Fuckin’ love this pussy,” he rasped against you, spit-slick and wrecked, his hands gripping your thighs so tight it ached. “So soft, so fuckin’ sweet—goddamn, baby, you’re just drippin’ for me.”

A shudder ripped through you, your body reacting before your mind could catch up. Your thighs twitched around his head, but he only growled, fingers digging in harder, keeping you wide open, keeping you at his mercy.

“Taste so fuckin’ good,” he groaned, tongue dipping deep, the sound almost desperate, like he was losing his mind over it. “Could bury my face in this tight little cunt forever.”

Your hands scrambled for purchase, clenching in the sheets, in his hair, anywhere, because the way he was devouring you—

It was too much.

The obscene, wet, sucking sounds of his mouth, the deep vibrations of his groans, the sheer heat of his breath against your slick skin���it had your brain short-circuiting, had your stomach tightening, the pleasure cresting too fast, too sharp.

“Ben,” you gasped, barely coherent. “I—I—”

His eyes flicked up, dangerous, knowing.

“Oh, I know,” he muttered, all smug condescension, his fingers pressing harder into your thighs. “I know what’s about to happen, baby.”

You didn’t, though.

Not until it started building, something different, something new, something that had you gasping, panicking, thighs trying to snap shut.

“B-Ben, wait—”

Slap.

His palm cracked against your inner thigh, just enough to sting, just enough to make you jolt, pleasure cutting through the panic sharp and hot.

“Shut up.” He growled it against you, voice rough with pure fucking authority, and your body obeyed before your mind did, immediately unraveling under him. “Let it happen.”

Your breath hitched, vision whiting out as something broke inside you.

And then—

It happened.

A choked sob tore from your throat as your body gave out, as pleasure ripped through you so violently your hips jolted against his face, liquid heat gushing out of you, soaking his mouth, his beard, the sheets beneath you.

Ben groaned like a man unhinged, his fingers tightening bruises into your skin, holding you still as he licked you through it, fucked you through it, savouring every fucking drop.

“Fuck yeah, baby,” he rasped, completely ruined, his voice breaking into something wild. “That’s it—fuckin’ drench me—Jesus Christ, you’re so fuckin’ hot.”

You were shaking, whimpering, still trying to come down, still trying to understand what just happened.

Ben laughed, breathless and smug, so fucking pleased with himself. His hands finally eased, smoothing over your trembling thighs, gripping them possessively, reverently.

“Didn’t know you could do that, huh?” He muttered, voice hoarse, utterly wrecked.

You whimpered, shaking your head, mortified, trying to cover your face—

He didn’t fucking let you.

His fingers wrapped around your wrists, pinning them to the bed, his mouth dragging wet, open kisses along your thighs, up your stomach, up your ribs, crawling up your body like he wasn’t done with you yet.

“You are so fuckin’ perfect,” he muttered, voice thick with filth and praise, his weight pressing you into the mattress. “Gonna make you do that every goddamn night, baby—fuckin’ soaking for me.”

You whimpered, still trembling, still floating, but he just grinned, so goddamn smug, his teeth skimming your jaw.

“Now, go to sleep,” he murmured, nipping at your ear. “You’ve got an early class tomorrow, sweetheart.”

Ben’s hands were steady, careful, as he helped you scoot back properly onto the bed, smoothing his palms over your trembling thighs, gripping where he could, soaking up the aftermath of what he’d just done to you. You barely had the energy to move, limbs heavy and useless, your breath still uneven, skin flushed and oversensitive.

He didn’t seem to mind. Loved it, actually.

Smirking, he sat back on his heels, watching as you climbed under the sheets, dragging them up around you, tucking yourself into the soft, pastel silk like you were burrowing into a cocoon of warmth and safety.

Then, with a huffed breath, Ben stood up and pulled his shirt over his head. A soaked mess.

“Christ on a cross,” he muttered, holding it up in the dim light. “Look at this shit.”

You immediately tried to hide, face burning as you turned toward the pillow, but he caught it—the small, mortified shift of your body, the way you curled inward like you could disappear. And he didn’t fucking like it.

“Hey,” he tutted, sharp and chiding, tossing the damp shirt over the back of your dressing table chair. “Don’t do that.”

You swallowed, exhaling against the sheets, still embarrassed but wrecked, still completely in his grip. He watched you for a second longer, then huffed, shaking his head before shoving his boxers down and climbing into bed beside you.

The mattress dipped, warmth swallowing you whole as he wrapped himself around you, pulling you flush against his chest, strong arms locking you in place like you were fucking going anywhere. His hold was tight, heavy, possessive in a way that made your stomach flutter, even in your exhausted state.

“Excited for tomorrow night,” he murmured against your temple, his voice a low, satisfied rumble. “Gonna pick you up from here when you’re back from class.”

You made a soft, content noise, already half-melting, pressing closer, sinking deeper into the warmth of him.

Then—

Ben shifted, brow furrowing as he felt something under him, something small and soft, and he reached down, pulling it free.

Eugene.

Your stuffed bear, held dangling by one arm in his grasp, Ben staring at it like it personally offended him.

He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “Eugene, you gotta get the fuck outta here.”

You snorted, laughter bubbling up before you could help it, giddy and wrecked and so goddamn endeared that you physically ached.

Ben just looked at you, then at Eugene, then back at you, dangling the bear slightly, like he was silently asking well?

Still giggling, you took the bear from him, hugging it against your chest, but you also nuzzled further into Ben, burying yourself beneath his arm, tangling your legs with his.

Ben sighed, a deep, satisfied breath, before pressing a slow, lingering kiss to the top of your head.

“Night, baby.”

His voice was low, heavy with something you weren’t ready to pick apart yet, something deep and final and absolute.

You mumbled something sleepy back, warm and safe and tucked into him, and for the first time in a long, long time—

You fell asleep feeling like you belonged somewhere.

When you woke again, it was slow. The kind of thick, heavy sleep that left your limbs boneless, warm, unwilling to move. But the first thing you became aware of was him.

Ben was grumbling into your hair, voice rough with sleep, chest broad and solid at your back, his arm heavy where it draped over your waist. Every breath he took vibrated through you, low and gravelly, lazy but full of complaint.

“Don’t wanna fuckin’ get up,” he muttered, his lips grazing your bare shoulder, breath hot against your skin. His hips pressed forward, and that was when you felt it—

Hard. Thick. Heavy. Pressed up against your ass, all heat and weight, his body surrounding you completely.

“Should just stay here all day,” he continued, voice low, almost slurred, still caught between sleep and wakefulness. His fingers flexed against your stomach, gripping, pulling you tighter against him. “Bury my cock in you and keep it there ‘til I gotta fuckin’ leave.”

A whimper caught in your throat, your thighs pressing together as you twitched in his hold. His breath hitched—then, his grip locked down.

His hand clamped onto your hip, pinning you to the bed, holding you still.

“If you don’t stop wigglin’ like that,” he murmured, voice dangerous, threatening, slow, “I really am gonna stay here and fuck you.”

Heat rushed to your face, your breath shuddering against the pillow as your body went still in his hold.

Ben huffed out a long, suffering groan, like he was physically forcing himself to be good, dragging himself out of bed with a grumble.

You stirred, stretching, before blinking up at him sleepily and shoving the sheets back to climb out of bed yourself.

Ben turned to look at you, brows furrowing, fully perplexed. “The fuck are you doin’?”

You blinked at him. “Getting up.”

His scowl deepened. “No, you’re not. Go back to sleep.”

You tilted your head, watching as he ran a hand down his face, already irritated by the concept of morning.

“But... you need to eat before you go.”

Ben froze.

His hand paused on his jaw. Something dark and hot flickered in his gaze, his breath leaving him in a sharp exhale. Then, he grinned. Slow. Lazy. Dangerous.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he muttered, running his tongue along his bottom lip, shaking his head as his eyes dragged over you. “You really are a dream girl, huh?”

Heat licked up your spine, but you held your ground, arms crossing loosely over your chest. “Ben.”

He groaned—but the good kind. The kind that sounded wrecked, that made your thighs clench together.

“Y’know how fuckin’ hot that is?” He exhaled through his nose, stepping closer, gaze dark, possessive. “Sweet little thing, tellin’ me I gotta eat before I go.” His fingers brushed over your hip, teasing, almost reverent. “Fuck me, baby, I could take you up on that right now.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

He leaned in, lips brushing your jaw, voice dropping low and thick. “But for now, I need you back in bed.”

Before you could argue, he grabbed you, pushing you back down, the mattress dipping beneath your weight. His hand wrapped around your jaw, fingers pressing into your cheeks, pinning your face to look up at him as he climbed over you, his lips dragging slow and deliberate over yours.

He kissed you hard, sucking at your bottom lip, teeth scraping, his free hand gripping your throat, then your jaw, then your hip. Every touch was bruising, deliberate, a brand of possession that felt like it was sealing something deep into your bones.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, panting slightly, his thumb tracing your bottom lip, swollen from his teeth.

“Need you rested up for later,” he murmured, eyes flicking over your face, drinking you in. “We’re goin’ out.”

Your breath stuttered, heart thudding against your ribs.

Then—he pulled away. You whined, grabby-hands reaching for him, desperate and frustrated.

Ben laughed. Smug, mocking, pleased as fuck.

“Jesus Christ, look at you,” he grinned, shaking his head as he watched you desperately reaching for him. “Clingy little thing.”

Your face burned, but you didn’t stop, fingers snagging at his wrist, pulling him back down just enough to suck another kiss out of him.

Ben groaned, deep and approving, teeth scraping your lip before he finally broke away, thumb swiping along your jaw one last time.

“You’re cute when you get needy, y’know that?” He murmured, mocking, but still praising, still smug as fuck.

You huffed, pouting.

He smirked, straightening, already moving toward his clothes. “Go back to sleep, doll. I’ll be back for you soon.”

The sound of your phone alarm ripped you from sleep, shattering the lingering warmth of your dreams. You groaned, scowling as you fumbled to shut it off, blinking bleary-eyed at the soft glow of morning filtering through your window.

Then it hit you.

This wasn’t your old apartment.

You sat up slowly, heart skipping as you glanced around, reality settling in. New walls, new furniture, new life. The silk sheets pooled around your lap, and for a moment, it felt surreal—like you were still dreaming, like this wasn’t really yours.

It didn’t feel real. Didn’t feel earned. It felt borrowed, temporary, fraudulent.

You shook yourself out of it, exhaling slow before slipping out of bed, padding across the floor to your wardrobe. Focus. Get ready. Move.

You pulled out two outfits, snapping a photo of both before sending them to Ben. His response came fast.

That one. Good fuckin’ girl.

Your stomach flipped, heat creeping up your neck as you bit your lip, shaking your head before sending him another—this time, of you wearing it.

With that, you grabbed your bag and headed out.

The day passed in a blur.

Lectures, notes, the steady rhythm of campus life pulling you into its familiar current. By the time lunch rolled around, you were settling into the café with one of your friends—the same girl from last Friday, the one who had tried to get you to leave before Ben decided otherwise.

She barely let you sit down before she was grinning, eyes alight with curiosity.

“So,” she started, leaning in, “how was last weekend?”

You hesitated for a beat, then gave a small, knowing smile. “It was good.”

Her eyes widened, and she let out an excited noise, smacking your arm lightly. “Good?” She echoed. “Babe, he was fucking gorgeous.”

You laughed, shaking your head, sipping your drink. “Yeah, I know.”

“Are you seeing him again?”

You glanced up, watching her reaction carefully, then nodded. “Tonight.”

Another excited squeal, another wave of gushing, but it didn’t bother you. It was nice, in a way—to talk about him in this context, instead of just feeling him consume you whole.

By the time you finished lunch, she had pep-talked you into oblivion, and you headed back home, your steps a little lighter, a little more confident.

When you arrived, the car was already there. Butcher was waiting, leaning against the door, arms crossed.

You slowed, raising a brow, and he tilted his head in acknowledgment.

“Just gotta take my bags and stuff up,” you told him.

He waved a hand, gruff and dismissive, barely looking up. “Go on, love. I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

You smirked, shaking your head before heading inside, quickly changing into something better suited for the night ahead.

By the time you came back down, Butcher was already in the driver’s seat, waiting. You climbed into the car, settling into the back, watching the city blur past as he pulled away. The silence stretched just long enough before you finally spoke.

“How are you?”

Butcher snorted. “Like you give a fuck.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I do give a fuck.”

He glanced at you in the rearview, lips twitching in something almost amused. “Yeah, well. Ain’t dead yet, so I s’pose I’m alright.”

You huffed a laugh, fingers drumming absently against your thigh before you glanced at him again. “What exactly is your job?”

That earned you a raised brow.

“My job?” He echoed, tilting his head slightly.

You nodded, watching as he rolled the thought around in his head before giving a gruff, nonchalant shrug.

“Eh,” he muttered. “’M kinda like Ben’s assistant.”

Your brow furrowed. “Assistant?”

Butcher smirked, shaking his head. “Well, that’s the posh way of sayin’ it.”

You snorted, amused and intrigued, watching him as the car weaved through the city, each answer leading to more questions, each detail peeling back another layer.

You shifted in your seat, watching the cityscape blur past in a wash of headlights and neon. The weight of the day sat low in your limbs, the lingering haze of routine blending into something less familiar, less structured.

The car was silent except for the quiet hum of the engine and the occasional clink of Butcher’s rings against the steering wheel as he shifted his grip. His gaze stayed forward, focused, but you could feel his presence as easily as if he were staring straight at you.

You cleared your throat. “Hey—thank you.”

Butcher didn’t react right away, just quirked a brow, flicking his eyes toward the rearview mirror for a split second before looking back at the road. “For what?”

You shrugged, resting your temple against the window. “First of all, for picking me up from the apartment.”

He snorted, shaking his head like it was the bare fucking minimum.

“And,” you added after a pause, something clicking in your head, “for finding the apartment.”

At that, Butcher let out a low, amused exhale. His mouth pulled into something almost smug, but he didn’t say anything, just kept driving.

You huffed a small laugh, shaking your head. “Ben chose it, but you found it.”

“Yeah, well.” He shifted slightly in his seat, rolling his shoulders. “Gotta make sure you’ve got a roof over your head, don’t I?”

There was something unspoken in that. Something heavy, something you weren’t ready to unpack yet. You let it sit for a moment, your fingers drumming absently against your knee, before swallowing and speaking again.

“And… for the Plan B last weekend.”

That made Butcher snort. Loud. Like he genuinely found that funny.

You immediately regretted saying it. Heat flashed up your neck, and you turned toward the window, cursing yourself internally.

“Fuck me,” he muttered, shaking his head. “He said you were a shy one. You really are, ain't ya?”

You grumbled something under your breath, shifting in your seat. “I just—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Butcher cut in, still amused, still shaking his head. He let the moment breathe for a second before glancing at you again. “You’re gonna have to work on that, y’know.”

That caught you off guard.

Your brows furrowed, head tipping slightly. “On what?”

Butcher sighed like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He waved a hand, his rings catching in the dim light. “The whole bloody embarrassed about everythin' bit.”

Your frown deepened, stomach flipping in something that wasn’t quite discomfort, wasn’t quite intrigue. “Why?”

He let out a gruff, knowing chuckle, shaking his head. “If you plan on keepin’ Ben, love, you’re gonna be flaunted about. You’ll be fuckin' exhausted if you’re constantly blushin’ over every little thing.”

You stiffened slightly, fingers tightening on your knee. “What do you mean?”

Butcher didn’t answer right away. Instead, he just exhaled through his nose, something deeply amused and vaguely pitying flickering across his face before he waved another hand.

“Nothing,” he muttered, voice low, dismissive, but still loaded as fuck. “Just sayin’—best get used to eyes bein’ on you.”

Your stomach twisted. You didn’t quite know why. Didn’t quite know what he was really saying.

Not yet.

@mostlymarvelgirl @losers-clvb @lunaleah. @itshellfire @drakulana @sl33pylilbunny @suckitands33 @nevercameraready @kayleighwinchester @lyarr24 @imtheworst123 @podiumackles @spxideyver @tinas111 @ohgodimgoungtodie @cevansbaby-dove <3

[xoxoavenger]

could i request a barista au charles xavier x reader fic?? 🤭 with him being all flirty every time the reader orders something 🫣 love ur writing!!

ahh thank you! this was so much fun to write I hope you like it <3

Early Morning Coffee Date

pairing: Charles Xavier x Fem!Reader

word count: 1618

warnings: none

12 Days of Christmas masterlist main masterlist

"What can I get started for ya?"

Y/N looks up from her purse to see who's talking to her. Yes, she was in line for her local coffee shop, but she knew all the baristas that worked at 7:30 AM on weekdays. And she would definitely remember this man, with his British accent and bright eyes.

"You're new?" She asks, and then wants to hit herself. Why can't she just order?

"Yes." He laughs, his accent making her heart skip a small beat. Small. "But don't worry, I worked at Starbucks before this, so I promise I can make whatever crazy concoction you think of." He smiles, and she wishes today was a good day so she could order something crazy, just to tease him.

"Well, I totally would put your knowledge to the test, but I forgot my wallet." She says with a grimace, because of course the day she meets a cute barista she forgets her goddamn money. She doesn't have time to go back to her house before work, so she'll just have to hope that she doesn't need it again today. She's lucky she can walk to work and doesn't have to take the Subway, like most New Yorkers.

"If you order something easy, it's on the house." He says, and she smiles, mouth widening in shock.

"I can't let you do that." She says, looking at the line forming behind her. "I'll just have to survive with the break room coffee." She said it without a shudder, but the barista clearly knew the break room coffee tasted a little like mold no matter how much she washed the pot.

"I cannot let you do that." He says, shaking his head. "Please, miss, there's a line now. If you don't tell me what you want to order, I will be forced to make you something random that you may not want." He says it with a smirk and shrug, and she feels her heart pick up agin.

"Fine," She says, fighting to keep the smile away. She gives him her usual order, and he takes it down on a cup.

"And what's the name for that order?" He asks, giving her a look that lets her know that he is asking for more than just the order.

"Y/N." She answers, searching for the barista's name tag. "I'm sorry, but you don't seem to have a name tag." She informs him, and he just smirks.

"You'll have to come back tomorrow, I guess." He says with a wink. "I will personally make your drink, Y/N. And I'd love to hear any criticism, as it seems you come here a lot." He says as he moves away from the register, despite the line that is still very much there.

"Charles!" Cass, one of Y/N's barista regulars yells. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Get back on register." She rolls her eyes, and Y/N smiles as Charles' cheeks heat.

"Charles," She repeats, and the barista nods. "Well, now I have no reason to come back." She jests, even though she knows the people behind her must absolutely hate her.

"You still haven't tried my drink. And I know you want to." She cannot deny the way her heart is racing now, especially with how she can feel her cheeks heating up.

"You're right." She gives in, knowing she needs to say goodbye. "Thank you, Charles. Hopefully I'll see you soon." He winks at her as she leaves, and she can't help but widen her eyes as she turns away.

Was that hot barista just flirting with her?

~

"Cass, good morning." Y/N greets the next day. She can see Charles working the espresso machine, and even though she does want to try his drink she also really wanted to talk to him again. She wants to be angry about the crush she's already developed on him, but seeing him working makes her realize that it's basically hopeless. He's hot and nice, which is high expectations in the world they live in.

"Y/N!" Cass greets, seemingly more excited than she's ever been that Y/N's here. "Charles, your customer." Cass turns, and Charles pauses everything to turn and see Y/N. She forgets all about the 'your customer' part of Cass' sentence, which she had been meaning to revisit.

"Hey!" He sounds so excited, and Y/N's surprised by this. "You came back."

"She comes every-"

"I needed to taste your drink." Y/N cuts Cass off, because she wants Charles to feel special. She would have come today anyway, yes, but she also really wanted to try his concoction.

"Yes!" Charles calls, starting to pull a shot. "Cass, don't put this one in. I'm making a special one." He winks before going to work. Y/N immediately shakes her head.

"No, no, please, let me pay." Y/N pulls out her wallet.

"You heard him." Cass shrugs. "Now, please step aside. There's a line." She smiles, and Y/N thanks them before moving away. She doesn't have to wait long by the counter before Charles is there, on her side, holding a hot drink.

"What are you doing?" She asks, looking over to the espresso machine. Someone else is working it in his place, and Y/N turns back at him with a smile.

"I was hoping you had ten minutes? I'm on my break." She's so shocked, because how is this cute guy asking her to talk on his break? "Or maybe you have work, which is fine. I should have figured." He sounds dejected, and as he turns Y/N grabs his arm.

"Don't walk away with my coffee." She says with a small smile. "You got my drink out so fast, I think I have a couple minutes to spare." Charles' face lifts, and she feels her heart skip.

She's so whipped.

~

Of course, Y/N gets sick the next day.

They had talked about everything, from what brought them to the city to what their favorite color was to their favorite childhood tv shows. Y/N was late for work, which she blamed on a headache, and then somehow she manifested it into actually having a headache which she hoped taking a nap at home would cure. The next morning, she woke up with a stuffy nose and a sore throat.

She debated going into the coffee shop, but decided against it, as she didn't want to get anyone sick. So she sits at home for two days, reads her book and watches an entire season of her show while she tries not to think about the coffee shop - about Charles.

It's a weekend when she finally goes in - late, because she couldn't bring herself to wake up early on a weekend even if it meant seeing Charles. She walks into the shop as quick as she can without trying to look like she's rushing and then looks at the people behind the counter as she gets in the long line.

No Charles.

She thinks about leaving, heart falling traitorously. But she talks herself out of it before the idea fully forms, because it sounds stupid. Maybe he's on a break. But by the time she makes it to the front of the line, she realizes that he's still not here.

"Hey, Y/N!" Erik, the cashier today, says, and Y/N smiles, because it's nice that people know her. "Do you want your usual?" He asks with a smirk, and Y/N is just about to answer when someone comes up next to Erik and slightly pushes him out of the way.

"I've got this handled." Charles sends a glare to Erik, so fast Y/N barely registers it, before he smiles at Y/N. "I know what you like. You're good to go." He winks, and Y/N can feel her cheeks start to heat.

"You can't keep giving me free drinks." She says with a small smile, biting her lip to keep it small.

"Multiple offenses? Charles!" Erik says, sounding scandalized, and Y/N feels the heat spread to her neck.

"Go ahead and take someone else's order, Erik." Charles says, before smiling once more at Y/N and walking back to the espresso machine to make the drink.

"You're one special gal." Erik tells her with a smirk. "Have a good day, Y/N." She bids him the same as she walks away, knowing the line needs to continue moving. She goes over to the side of the counter and watches Charles work, waiting for her drink, which clearly has been moved to the front of the line by the way Charles is already done and walking over to her with a smile stretched across his face.

"I was worried when you didn't show up the past few days." He tells her as he leans over the counter to talk. She takes a sip of her drink, which somehow tastes better than the first time.

"I was sick." She says, heart fluttering.

"And here I was thinking your boyfriend found out about our long talk." He smirks, and her stomach did a flip.

"I don't have a boyfriend." She said, taking another sip of her drink.

"Hm," Charles looks down, then grabs her free hand. "Would you want one?" He looks up at her, and her mouth went dry.

He's asking her out. She needs respond because he's asking her out.

"Possibly," She finally says, taking his hand. "If the right man were to ask." She can't help but tease him.

"Well, what are you doing tomorrow?" He asks, and she smiles.

"Probably going out with my boyfriend." She puts her coffee down and leans against the counter, close enough to put the ball in his court.

"Perfect." He smiles back, and then leans in to kiss her across the counter.

//

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler @theoraekenslover @thefandomplace @mcueveryday @icequeen1371 @kenzi-woycehoski @multifandom-boss-bitch

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 80 (Conrad and His Father)

cw: coarse language, tense family dynamic, follows the events of this post

Life after Helena Gordon's death was difficult for the men she left behind. Years later, Conrad and his father still struggled with her loss. The apartment furnishings were unchanged, and no photos to remember her hung on the walls.

Another call from his son's high school guidance counselor left Stephen Gordon at a loss. He feared their connection was slipping away.

"Another fist fight? What was it this time?"

"It was nothing. They were just assholes."

"If you keep this up, you might not graduate."

"Who cares what I do? We all just die anyway."

"Son, I know you're better than this. You want more than this; I know you do. You know your mother would want more for you, too."

"Oh, now you want to talk about her? You only bring her up when you want to tell me what a loser I am!"

"I never said anything like..." He stopped himself. All Conrad ever wanted to do was argue, and Stephen was running out of patience. "What is it that you need, son? You won't talk to any counselors, you won't talk to me..."

"I don't want to talk about your bullshit opinions, Dad!"

"Well, what do you want to talk about? How are your college applications coming along?"

Conrad grunted. "Fine."

"What major are you-"

"I don't know! Fuck! Are you that excited to get me out of this place?"

"You have to get this anger under control, son. I don't know how you're going to do it, but think about the kind of father you'll want to be someday. You can't scream at-"

"I'm never having kids. Ever."

Stephen threw up his hands in exasperation. "Fine. Don't have kids! Don't finish high school without getting yourself expelled, and don't amount to a goddamned thing! Maybe you need to channel this anger into working out or something."

"We can't afford a gym membership," Conrad scoffed. "The Landgraabs pay you shit money and you're still working off all Mom's medical bills."

"You're smart and you're resourceful. Figure it out! But you're not moping around here, and the next time you get in a fight at school, I'll pull you out and force you to work Landgraab security with me for the rest of your miserable existence."

In a huff, Conrad locked himself in his room. Despite his nihilistic outburst, he pulled out his math homework and focused on the equations to calm his mind.

His mother would never approve of his grades slipping, especially now that he was less than a year from his high school graduation. She'd left them, but her ambitious spirit still flickered quietly in her grief-stricken son. He was only doing these stupid equations for her. "I hope you're happy," he muttered under his breath.

He hated how close she felt - like she was always just a phone call away - even though she was gone. It was so unfair.

After an hour, his father knocked on the door. With a roll of his eyes, Conrad stood to let him in. Right away, Stephen sat on the bed. "I'm sorry I yelled at you," he said. "I've just tried so hard to reach you and I'm at my wit's end."

"It's fine. I thought I might head down to the gym tomorrow and see if they're hiring. I'm pretty sure employees get free memberships."

Stephen Gordon grinned proudly. "I said you were resourceful, son. I think that's a great idea."

So Conrad got a part-time job at the local gym, scrubbing the toilets and changing rooms in exchange for free use of the machines. His embrace of physical activity helped get him through his senior year.

His grades got him into Foxbury Institute for Computer Science, and he even started looking to his future with a renewed sense of excitement.

On his graduation day, the smiles he shared with his father were genuine, even if both could feel Helena's absence as strong as ever.

"She's so proud of you, son. I know she is."

He nodded, careful not to get wrapped up in referring to his mother in the present tense. "She would be."

Off on his own in Britechester, Conrad took his new independence seriously. He and his father had nowhere near enough money for him to blow off his education and waste the tuition.

He spent long hours studying in the old library, and it wasn't long before he found a local gym to help manage his emotions.

Pappy Murphy had been a boxer, and Conrad was drawn to the punching bags. Treadmills and weight machines couldn't match the pummeling he could give his own emotional baggage with a set of gloves and a bag.

The gym soon became his home away from home, and he spent time there as often as he could... ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

WCIF Boxing Gym? Pappy Murphy's Boxing Gym by SimDoughnut in the Sims 4 Gallery. I didn't realize until after I placed the lot in game, but it comes with a secret underground Fight Club-esque fight room and creepy scientific lair, too (with a weather machine in it!) and this place is screaming for some storyline but (for now!) it's only in my flashback save.

Fun discovery, because I was literally just looking for a gym in the gallery with boxing equipment so I could try to isolate whatever mod script was preventing me from placing punching bags in any gym after the last patch (it was Mercuryfoam's Martial Arts mod, and that's a bummer because I want this skill back from Sims 3 very much and I believe the mod is no longer being updated!)

[sunnyvelvet]

Time Together (Teen Titan!Dick Grayson!Robin x Reader)

A/N: Hello! He is an imagine from a time before that I am really proud of. Enjoy!

WC: 1,529

Original Link

It wasn't always easy, with him at the tower almost 24/7 and me working a full-time job. We still made it work. A lot of nights would end with him coming through my window and complaining that I shouldn't keep it open. I only kept it open for him, and he knew that. His time at my apartment was always content, gave him a reason to be out of that Goddamn suit. We would watch a movie or infomercials. Cuddled up together without a care, soft kisses and hand-holding being fairly common in these times. It was always something we looked forward too.

(Y/N)'s POV I had only been to the tower a handful of times. Mostly when everyone else on the team was out. He liked to keep me his secret, even though he had plenty of secrets from them. I understood though, not being in the "business" and all. He wants to keep me safe. It honestly surprised me when he texted me to come to the tower.

It was late as I crept to were Dick had said to meet him. It was probably 2 AM, thankfully I don't have work tomorrow. I was standing on a beach that was connected to the water that surrounded the tower. Getting fed up with waiting, I decided to start walking back to my car. I had parked it about four blocks away. As I started to walk back to it I heard my name. "(Y/n)! Wait!" It was Dick. "And I thought you weren't going to show up." I said with a smile on my face. I honestly was really happy to see him, even in full gear.

"I'm sorry I kept you waiting. I got caught up in something." He smiled at me then engulfed me into a hug. I had to pull myself away from him. "So, what did you want to meet about out here?" I asked, very confused about why we were meeting here. "Well, I kinda have a surprise for you in the tower." He proceeded to scratch the back of his neck, "As long as we're quite we shouldn't wake anyone." I looked at him unsurely. Yes, I had been in the tower before but not when the team was there.

"I'm not sure Dick, should we really take that chance?" I stepped away from him as I said that. I really wasn't prepared to meet his team if someone does wake up. Especially at 2 AM! "It'll be fine (Y/N), we just got to sneak around till we get to your surprise." I agreed as we started to walk to the small motorboat he had taken from the tower to the small beach. Thankfully the engine wasn't too loud and we got to the tower without notifying anyone, I hope.

Once we were in the tower we took an elevator to a floor, I hadn't seen the number Dick pushed because he had me held in his arms so tight I could barely move. Once we got out of the elevator we walked slowly towards the end of the hall. He was, basically, dragging me down it. We got to a bathroom. "Umm, Babe..." I said trying to refrain from using his real name, "Why are we at a bathroom?" I laughed for a good minute before he just opened the door and walked in.

In the bathroom were candles lit and a bubble bath run for both of use. Flower petals were scattered on the floor and in the water. "Oh, wow!" That's all I could say as I stared at it in awe. "Do you like it? I thought it would be nice." He had a little bit of doubt in his voice. Like I wouldn't like it. "I love it." I moved over to him and gave him a kiss. Just a peck but enough to make his doubt go away. I started to stripe my clothes. Shoes, socks, shirt, and pants. I noticed Dick hadn't taken anything off yet.

"Are you going to join me or not?" I asked then proceeded to take my bra and panties off. I glanced at him as I walked towards the tub. He quickly took off his suit, wasting no time. He stepped into the tub and sat in front of me. "I thought we could relax together and your apartment doesn't have a tub," He started to talk about something else but all I could focus on was his face. He still had his mask on but I could tell he was excited to just be with me tonight.

I moved over so that I was sitting in between his legs. His arms going straight to my waist to hold me. We sat there for nothing but a few minutes, even though it felt like hours. Nothing was better than being in Dick's arms. He moved and grabbed a cup that was sitting next to the tub. "What are you doing?" I smiled while I looked at him, so confused. "I'm going to wash your hair. You know, like before." Oh, how you did know. When you still lived in Gotham with your Father/Mother, they would always leave for days on end for business. Dick would come over and stay with you.

We would always end up taking a bath. Mostly because we were both stressed and just need to be near each other. With him out fighting crime and me trying to get both of use though high school. I did most of his homework, I swear. I was always nice just be together, even just for a little bit. We would wash each other hair and talk about nothing. It was some of my favorite memories with him.

Dick started to pour some water onto my head, covering my eyes with his other hand. He did it multiple times before my whole head was wet. Continuing, he opened an unlabeled bottle and poured its contents onto his hand. As Dick scrubbed my scalp I leaned back into him. Relaxing a bit, noting that it smelled like strawberries. "Does it feel good?" All I could do was hum at him. To content to talk. Dick continued to wash my hair until he felt it was clean enough. Fishing the cup out of the water, he covers my eyes. "I don't want to get soap in them." He started to rinse my hair until all the suds were out of it. He pushed some of my hair away and kissed my cheek. I turned my head so I could kiss him. It turned a little heated but ended so I could tell him to turn around.

Now sitting facing him I took the cup from him. Quickly filling it up and pouring over his head. I smiled at him as I continued. "So, how are things around here?" It wasn't a question I asked often but I still liked to know sometimes. I poured some of the same strawberry shampoo he used on me into my hands. "It's the same I guess. Not a lot goes on." I knew that was bull but I didn't push the issue. I didn't really want to know what he would say if I do. I scrubbed his head as we sat in silence. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, it just silence we had gotten used to when being alone together.

Rising his hair, I realized that I had wrapped my legs around his waist. My ankles were even linked. When his hair was finally free of soap suds he leaned towards me and wrapped his arms around me. I did the same. We ended up staying in that position and just talked about little things.

It ended up being two hours later before we knew it. Time can really go by when you're with someone you love. We washed each other's bodies by then. I had my back to his chest laying in his embrace when we started to look at the time. "It's 4 AM, we should probably get out." He looked at me sadly, not wanting to leave yet. "I don't wanna." I stated, looking at him with puppy dog eyes. "I mean you could always stay for breakfast with me... And the team." The team...

"Fine." That's all I said before I stood up in the tub, grabbing a towel. I dried off and started to re-dress when Dick got out of the tub. I waited for him to get ready before leaving the bathroom, not wanting to get caught. "Let's get you back to your car."

We were both quite to the motorboat. We were honestly quite the whole way to my car. Dick had insisted to walk me to it. Now we were at it and I didn't know what to say. Great night, see you next week?! That wasn't really what I was looking for. "I love you (Y/N)." Dick said it so fast and so abruptly I almost did release he said anything. "I love you too Dick." I leaned in to kiss him and then I got into my car. Waving as I drove off.

[tide-locked]

ok, i'm being so brave and making the rec post that i told anon i would do like three days ago.

the obligatory caveats. this is not comprehensive—i haven't read all the fic in this fandom, and i've barely looked at anything not in english. my reading habits are pretty broad—i'll read almost any pairing, and am generally willing to suspend my disbelief to do so. i am not usually an au person, though this fandom is doing its absolute damndest to prove me wrong on that point.

also i have…more…fics that i felt i should rec somewhere, so probably this is rec post one, but ten felt like enough and also saying things in public where people can hear me is, it turns out, absolutely excruciating. please no one be mean to me about this post, especially if you wrote one of these fics, because if you are i will simply fill my pockets with rocks and take to the sea, ok? ok.

excited to find out what i manage to do that ruins the formatting, links the wrong fics and/or people, or otherwise breaks things in this post. please tell me if i've fucked up, or if your fic is on this list and you would rather i keep your name out of my mouth, or whatever.

first, a very special mention to the mlc reference guide by @yletylyf. this is such an incredibly comprehensive and generous resource. you want a timeline for this show that does an incredibly poor job of maintaining its own timeline? it's here. you want episode summaries? they're here. you want all the people and places? they're here. if you're writing fic, you want this guide, because it's so much easier and faster than scanning episodes or subs files to figure out the name of one specific guy or whatever. it also means that at least occasionally you work on the thing rather than accidentally rewatching the same scene five times, or hypothetically watching two to four episodes without even really thinking about what you're doing. the reference guide is the unsung mvp of fandom.

beyond porch and portal, difanghua, teen, by willowdream. this is the vampire au that i didn't know i wanted? the author posted it and their note was like 'i'm trying to be the change i want to see in the world,' and i was like ok sure, i'm not really convinced that the change i need is vampire aus, but i'll give it a go, and then i did and was like, oh shit, i'm eating fucking glass about this vampire au, i'm chewing on my own fucking fingers, i'm so fucking normal about this, i need another hundred thousand words of this and also seventeen more vampire aus in my inbox by monday morning. i literally finished reading it and scrolled right back to the top to read it again. i have no idea why this fic hits so hard, but it took me out at the knees. the voices are perfect. something about it is just impossibly compelling.

不安的遠離，再无歸期 | restless distance, without return, fang duobing/qiao wanmian, mature and teen, by @difeisheng. this is technically two fics but they're short and you should read both of them because they're such a brutal, perfect encapsulation of grief, and a really beautiful acknowledgement of the ways that fang duobing and qiao wanmian can be read as reflections of each other, separated by a decade, and it just fucking guts me. i dunno. it's about the grief! it's about the yearning! it's about someone who understands parts of you that you wish didn't exist! i think i've reread this like once a week for the last six weeks and i feel like it gets overlooked because it's not A Ship but like. it could be. it should be.

dance the silence down, fanghua and feihua, explicit, by @momosandlemonsoda. this fic. ugh. ok. i'm breaking my own rules. i had two when i started writing this post: no works in progress, and no reccing things that i haven't left a comment on, like a goddamn grownup. this one fic is breaking both of those rules and i feel bad about it and will hopefully spend like, all day tomorrow just commenting on every chapter or something, but i have to do this. this fic is so good. this fic ruins me. this fic is 63k, still a work in progress, and also if i were losing the whole internet tomorrow and i got to keep one fic in all the world and it was the only fic i could have for the rest of time, it might have to be this one, even as a work in progress. i ignored this fic for so long—by which i mean probably two of the four months since i first watched mysterious lotus casebook—because i was like, i don't like aus, and i especially don't like rock star aus. (or sex work aus, and you're never gonna fucking believe what else this author is writing and what else i absolutely cannot get enough of—this is a sneaky bonus rec for all i wanna do is wrong, another fic that i feel so so so normal about!) but then i was like okkkkkkk but. maybe i'll try it. people seem to be nuts for it. and then i read it and i was like OH HOLY SHIT PEOPLE ARE FULLY CORRECT TO BE ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED ABOUT THIS and normally, honestly, i wouldn't bother posting a rec like this because it's like 'oh haha have you read the five most popular fics in this fandom?' and it feels so redundant, but i know for a fact that a friend of mine who finished watching the show yesterday is reading this post, and even if everyone else has read it, she has not! anyhow as a former music person and a former diner cook, this fic like. i don't know. i feel like it broke me but also fixed me? i literally criticise writing professionally and every time i try to talk about this fic i find myself speechless because it's so perfect to me. i am deeply unwell about this fic. every time a new chapter comes out i sit down and read the whole thing again, yes, all sixty-thousand-plus words of it. some nights you go to bed and you're like 'what's the fucking point?' and then you're like 'no wait, there will eventually be more of dance the silence down,' and somehow that makes things suck a tiny bit less. my wife has made me take out like six sentences from this rec because they're too intense and too weird about it but i need you to understand: you have to read this fic.

in this dream, there is a lover to share this life with, fanghua, g, by @lianhuajing. alternative ending for the end of episode 27, in which li lianhua—precious man who has yet to discover a hill he's not willing to die on—apologises to fang duobing the only way he knows how, and it's wildly upsetting for everyone (but it's ok and it doesn't end miserably, no one panic). this is a delightfully angsty treat, and i love how conflicted fang duobing is in it—i feel like it's not something that i've seen explored a lot, but this poor boy really fuckin goes through it—his best friend and his childhood idol are the same person but are lying to him about it, and his dad's not actually his father and has been lying to him about it, and his best friend/childhood idol may have killed his father, and—yeah, is lying to him about it. like? someone give this poor man a hug and a cup of tea and a snack and a blankie. i love that we get to see some of his internal conflict in this.

quintessence of dust, feihua, teen, by justthereforit. this plays with one of my very most favourite tropes in the world, which is the one where the heart is a physical object and a physical form of trust and control and surrender and—like. this is so good. it's set in episode 13, which is, for me, one of the absolute peak angst points, and it absolutely nails it. di feisheng who's upset and vulnerable and frustrated and angry, li lianhua who knows he's going to die and can't bear the thought that he's going to take anyone else down with him, and they're both just so fucked up. chef kiss. i love it when everyone is emotionally wrecked and continually like 'ok no, i can take one more knife in my soul to protect someone else', and this absolutely delivers on that.

under moonlight, we change our futures yet again, feihua, explicit, by @thesilversun. the wedding room! obviously we have to have a wedding room fic, right? i'm not going to lie: i'm willing to suspend a lot of disbelief for wedding room fics, but in this one, it's actually a wonderfully, horrifyingly plausible setup. it walks a really fine line of keeping people in character, and acknowledging the inherent horror and seriousness of the situation, and also providing some desperately hot sex, and also managing to get the emotional beats of it, too. it has a sequel, which imo really has to be read as the conclusion to this fic, and it's just as good. it's possible that some of what i'm saying here is 'i love vulnerable-inside crusty-outside di feisheng' but like. i do. i love it so much.

what's sealed away, feihua, teen, by @bbcphile. AMNESIA FIC yessssss, a-fei my beloved, fics that handle brain damage/memory issues/amnesia well my beloveddddd. i love the a-fei arc, but i also have had a number of brain injuries and some other stuff that means that my own memory is…not so great, so i sometimes really struggle with how often amnesia in fiction is played off either as nothing to worry about or as a funny thing where everyone's in on the joke except the person who has amnesia. this fic is a great and sometimes very visceral exploration of a horrifying experience, and a really fantastic study of a-fei/di feisheng as a character, as well as the relationship that he has with li lianhua. a-fei trying to balance the trust he has in the sense memory of his body with his understanding of his relationship with li lianhua with li lianhua's reaction to—everything, really—is really well done and wonderful/terrible to read.

我只愿面朝大海 | i wish only to face the sea, g, by foreverstudent. ok so you wanna fuck yourself up some more? go read this. this is canon divergence from episode 39, and fang duobing has learned too well the lessons he's been taught, and sees the shape of things before li lianhua ever touches the wangchuan flower—so he sets about making sure that he won't be able to throw it away. this is agonising and gorgeous and maintains the canon relationships while developing the narrative differently. i wept literal tears. i was like 'ok that's it the worst part is over!' and then i remembered that there was another part coming and then i started crying. anyhow, it is—as ever, with me—about the devotion.

我住長江頭, 君住長江尾 -- i live upstream, you live downstream, fanghua, teen, by @rimbaudofficial. ok so this is Not a fic that i should like, because i am a massive academic failure and despite being in my forties have regular nightmares about having to re-engage with academia for like. any reason. HOWEVER. as noted, i read indiscriminately, even when i'm like 'reading this is a terrible idea and will be upsetting for me personally!', so i was like 'well, how bad of an idea can it possibly be?' and then instead! it was. incredibly charming? it was so fucking cute? the fang duobing characterisation in this is somehow just perfect to me—he's simultaneously confident and vulnerable, and also just so deeply committed to the weird clueless guy who he's decided is meant for him. di feisheng and li lianhua have a perfect weird-bros friendship. i would read another ten chapters of this and i would love it.

[scientia-rex]

Exciting updates in my life: my week of vacation has so far involved working physically in the house and or yard so hard that I’m in agony by bedtime. I have two modes, On and Off, and it’s been an On week, in large part because I’ve realized my thinning hair may well be due to my Wellbutrin so I’ve dropped the dosage and every time I change a psych med my anxiety goes bananas for weeks to months at a time. So instead of “relaxing” or “finishing one goddamn fic, what the fuck, me” I’ve (properly) removed the spare room’s asbestos popcorn ceiling and been forced to learn FAR more than I want to about ceilings and drywall given the state of what was covered up by the popcorn. Yesterday afternoon for a break from the Ceiling of Doom I cleaned the back deck that I couldn’t clean for a YEAR while we waited for the contractor to actually fix the dangerous structural instability. It took me four hours of continuous physical labor. There’s a lot wrong with me, but I AM getting biceps, which is delightful since I don’t like exercise per se and usually have the muscle tone of cooked linguine.

However! Tomorrow I’m going to sand down the joint compound I had to redo in a few places today after sanding the first time badly, and then! Then I shall prime it. Whenever that dries, time to attempt skim coating. Then realize I’ve failed and have to try that again one or two times before eventually sanding it again, priming it again, and finally, please God, painting it. Then painting the walls. Then painting, cutting mitered corners in, and gluing up the high density foam crown molding. Then yanking the carpets and learning how to lay vinyl flooring planks that will be impervious to the slings and arrows of senior dogs. It’s going to be a while. But one day, I will have that room in a condition where I can paint, miter cut, and install the baseboards. And after that? Build the FUCKING GUEST BED that has been IN BOXES IN THE GARAGE for TWO YEARS. over two years now! Jesus Christ.

I also finally managed to get rid of the plastic blinds I hated in the bedroom and put up curtain rods and curtains. And put up two bird feeders outside, including installing the hooks under the eves. I have been busy. Just not with writing. Also I’ve been deliberately avoiding tumblr bc it tends to make my mood worse rather than better; tragic. But sometimes I open the app and instead of checking notifications I just scroll and reblog and I can pretend that no one is being an asshole on the Internet.

[revalition]

OCTOBER 17 - PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT Flex powerful muscles. Enjoy healthy organs.

Coach Physical Instrument!! This guy has lots of great dialogue... but his design isn't that interesting to me. and I struggle with buff people haha. look at his weird... trapezoid head. I wanted to incorporate a way for him to emote a bit better but that will have to be a project for later. I love him very much anyway though

(also it is just barely past midnight, it definitely still counts as october 17 shhh)

as usual lots of quotes under the cut!

coach quotes:

this is a godly check lol. thanks for the commentary coach...

poor coach

this one is so funny

harry talking back to coach is always funny

this one is my favourite.

coach noooo. had to include the awful dialogue option he opens up too haha

he loves his prybar <3

coach knows... this is when interviewing klaasje, so decently early on

mmm... discus

coach's comment isn't even dependent on failing the ency check, he'll say it regardless. though you can only ask lena if you look like a dweeb if the ency check fails haha. sorry man, harry is absolutely a dweeb...

I mean, I think encyclo does...

phys int taking any opportunity to dig at kim's bad eyesight is ridiculous. there's several but I can only have so many screenshots...

his worst nightmare 😔

he's so stupid (this heals morale)

good to know coach has his priorities sorted out. you heard him -- it's intellectually stimulating to talk to buff men

fist bump!!

he's so, so disappointed if you leave titus hanging. (I am too)

I find it a bit funny that this doesn't do any morale damage. Harry loses morale over far less... maybe he just doesn't care if coach calls him lazy and bad.

this guy *cannot* sit still. stop it coach, harry needs this bath

he's so stupid

holds the idiots in my hands so gently... theyre all so stupid...

thank you physical instrument. this is also the only time he says your name - super important

he knows :(

much much love for the three skills who will store the blue spirits as a sellable item for you. (if coach doesn't fire, logic will store it, and if logic fails too then volition does it)

he gets *so* excited. I love it

him calling it 'The Wonder' noooo

coach is so funny. i love when harry's choices are so biased haha

why is he so stupid?

this one always kills me. there is *so little* insight into what these guys are doing in there! but savvy is pushing other skills outta the way for this <333 he's brave to push past coach haha. what's he at the front of? is savvy actually small or just in comparison to coach...? hehe

we're out of screenshot room but can't forget this classic:

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - Yes, this man is definitely one of the homos, I've seen them homos with my own eyes.

other fun facts! there are too many good coach quotes :(((

- he's the only one to call Inland Empire dreamer! - electrochemistry calls coach a sinewy idiot! - calls you Harry just once, but son 26 times, boy 3 times, champ 3 times, officer once... - physical instrument is confirmed compromised... - he never says 'Kim', only lieutenant - my spreadsheet has him at a moderate swear score of 6/10 because I didn't factor in how many time he says goddamn... oops

ok that's it for physical instrument!! tomorrow... it will be extremely hard to pick only 30 quotes :(((

[star-suh]

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!!!

Wong Yukhei x Male Reader

cw: established relationship, possessive bf lucas, use of nicknames, breeding kink, spit play, belly bulge, cum play ass to mouth lol, degrading, lucas likes reader's moans, reader kinda power bottom, food play, rough sex, fluff at the end and some aftercare.

an: for my bestie @revluvzen hope you like it <3 

—

today it's y/n and lucas' 1st anniversary of being in a relationship, y/n still remembers that day vividly, how lucas appeared in his house's front garden with balloons, chocolates and a big poster that said "y/n would you be my boyfriend? yes or yes" it was definitely the best day of his life. y/n was in the kitchen watching a tutorial on how to make a cake and everything looked good so far, it was time to put the icing and put the cake in the refrigerator. the door opens, it was lucas, he came back from his part time work. "hello love of my life, are you at home?", "yes, i'm in the kitchen" y/n replied, "oh! hey what are you doing bub?", "i'm doing a cake love like the ones you like" says y/n, "hmm is that so? so it must have a lot of milk right" said lucas smirking and hugging y/n. "yes with lots of milk" y/n replied and they started kissing that escalated quickly into a rough make out with lucas discarding y/n's clothes. "should i taste how's the icing of the cake?" lucas hummed while coating y/n's nipples with the icing and started sucking on them making y/n moan.

y/n bit his fingers to avoid the moans, "uh uh love, let me hear your pretty moans" say lucas, "but lucas you know the walls on this apartments are like crackers, the neighbors might hear us"... lucas finished licking clean y/n's nipples "i don't care, let everyone hear how good i make you feel… let everyone knows who you belong to when they hear your pretty mouth saying my name" replied lucas licking y/n's ear "let's go to bed and make this anniversary night an unforgettable one"...

moans, whimpers, the sound of wet skin against each other can be heard, "fuck yeah ride it harder, like the slut you are" y/n complied and started riding harder, his hole swallowing every inch of lucas' cock, "like this?" said y/n squeezing lucas' cheeks "you act though and that bullshit because you have a big fat cock but deep down i know you just want to be used like the dirty manwhore you are, am i wrong lucas?" he then spits into lucas' mouth "you know me so damn well y/n that's why i love you" said lucas who then proceeds to have a rough make out with y/n "c'mon big boy… fuck me like there's no tomorrow" y/n demanded to lucas"as you wish horny whore"...

tears streaming down y/n's cheeks with his eyes rolled back, lucas has been fucking him for a long time now, his ass is red for all the spankings y/n has received "fuckkk you really know how to take all my cock huh? you take it like a champ" say lucas who lifted y/n and started gropping his pecs and pinching his nipples "let me hear those sinful moans y/n let everyone know that you are a dirty slut who loves to get fucked dumb and getting your hungry hole creampied", lucas' started thrusting faster and faster while jerking y/n's cock, "who do you belong to y/n? tell me", "i~ i belong to l-lucas~" say y/n " i lo-love his big fat cock…. punishing my slutty… hole for being so… so hungry for c-cock", "yes because that's what you are, a simple hole to be used and filled with cum" say lucas with hard and deep thrusts on every word, that are forming bulges on y/n's lower tummy. "get ready to be filled manwhore", "yes, give me your hot thick cum lucas, i want it all" says y/n excited clenching his hole as hard as he can to no let lucas' cock go until he has dumped all his load inside it "goddamn, here…. take… it~" lucas dumped his load inside y/n while gripping hard his cock making him cum too. lucas kept thrusting for a second to ride his high… "now we can't waste a week's worth of cum, right baby?" say lucas while burying his face on y/n's ass to suck all his cum out of there and then sharing it with him in a passionate kiss, then scooping y/n's cum with his hand and adding it to the mix of cum and saliva "i think i love this icing more than the one you made for the cake" says lucas, "haha you stupid" replied y/n laughing, kissing and hugging lucas. "let's go wash our asses and then we can eat that delicious cake while watching some movies?, what do you think baby?" asked lucas, "i think it's perfect as long as i'm with you love" y/n answered "god you're so fucking perfect i love you from here to the stars y/n, my precious boy" lucas told him while kissing the tip of his nose, then his forehead and then hugging him… "i love you too to the stars lucas" y/n said while lucas carried him to the bathroom...

[bengiyo]

Century of Love Ep 3 Stray Thoughts

Last week, the traitor nephew showed up to give San a bunch of highly-questionable information about Vee, who also looked into San. Vee hurt San's feelings by saying that he should have moved on from Vad, but the attraction between them is plain. We also got to see San turn into a kid as part of his regeneration process and interact with Vee as Vee was fighting people he may have robbed. Another faction knows about the magic stone, and sent goons to retrieve it from the house. They hurt Grandpa and the kid, and San kicked their asses. Vee happened to be passing by at the time and got yelled at by San, and Vee yelled right back.

It's gonna be devastating when Vee's grandmother passes.

Why would they go to the police at all?

Now why did he turn into a child again??

I wanna see the tiny actor fighting so bad.

So glad they're letting Offroad fight in this show, and letting his character be clever. I love the fake sirens.

Are we not gonna question why the kid was in oversized clothes?

Oh, nice! Vee is gonna see San transforming.

A naked pratfall! A double pratfall into the tub!!

The triple sound effect reactions of the family are actually really funny.

I love this shirt with the shoulder buckles on San.

Juu being so bored with San's gender hangups is fun.

Goddamn. This man has been in pain for like 13 hours.

Well, the goddess got what she wanted. Make him suffer enough that homosexuality seems less awful?

Interesting, we just had a similar story about the illegal bank accounts in DFF. Fascinated by Vee shielding his pain with these smiles.

Flashing back to San's own class issues with Vad here is a good choice to help us see him experiencing empathy.

I hope they had to do multiple spit takes. I know Offroad had fun with that.

Giving Vee a beloved sick grandma is also a good choice to help him choose to become a sugar baby.

The costuming, hair, and makeup departments clearly love Daou.

Nephew, you ain't slick.

LOL a bride vs groom joke.

I really like the wedding outfits.

THE GODDESS THREW A FUCKING VEIL ON THAT BOY.

Damn, San has to watch his person get shot again.

At least we get to watch Daou whip ass in every episode. They understand what we want.

How are we just sitting here having this conversation?? Didn't Vee get shot??? He doesn't have fast healing 50.

Interesting. Vee knows about the stone as he's being told to expect to lose his grandmother. This is going to lead to good tension with San.

I'm crying because of the grandmother trying to be funny until the end.

Vee earned this breakdown scene in the stairwell. He's been so smiley about so many bad things.

Excited for Vee to try to get the stone tomorrow!

I'm having so much fun with this show. This team knows exactly what I want out of this experience and delivers it in every scene. I am going to be looking forward to this show every week, and will definitely have to show it to my friend if this keeps up.

[hannibalzero]

Do you know who I am?

Charthur 🦬🦌🦬🦌 dabble!

With Dyani! Beware of cute and just Arthur.

Coming back from fur trapping, Charles Smith had hardly been gone a week but he was already so damn homesick. Turns out when you have a home to miss, it happens so easily. Charles hardly got on the trial before wanting to turn back and run straight into that little ranch house up on the hill with that large flower garden.

Charles missed Arthur, missed Dyani, his bed with that heavy quilt and a warm bath.

Taima being a spoiled and beloved horse now, saw her barn and broke out into a canter. She was sick of being on the road, she wanted to be home.

“Easy girl!” Charles soothed but couldn’t help but to smile. Excited himself to be home with his family. Taima stopped to allow Charles to open the stable door, Charles hurriedly got off before pushing the door open.

He stopped for a moment and counted. There were eight horses, when Charles left there was only three. Peaches, Gin and Brandy. Taima was with Charles of corse. Five random horses where looking at Charles curiously.

Arthur’s horses were still here.

But Charles still worried.

Removing the saddle and blanket, Charles took care of Taima and stabled her, he also cleaned his equipment and hung his fur haul to process later. Worry churned his stomach, did something happen while he was gone?

Charles took a deep, slow breath and settled himself as he approached the ranch house. He carefully pushed open the back door, the sound of Dyani crying made his heart hurt.

“Oh I know, it’s awful ain’t it.” Arthur soothed the crying baby in his hold. The sound of water filled poor Charles in on what was happening. In a washing basin on the kitchen table, Arthur was bathing Dyani much to her dismay. “Gettin’ wash up, I gotcha I ain’t gonna let ya go. Such a pretty girl.”

Beside the table was the actual tub, seems like Arthur was about to have a bath himself. The water was heating over the fire.

Charles relaxed a lot. “Hey.” He called out to his family, entering the room now as he closed the door behind him with a click.

“Hey you!” Arthur called out not hiding the smile on his face. Moving Dyani onto the towel on his shoulder and wrapping her up. “Wasn’t expectin ya till tomorrow!” He stood up and walked over. “God I missed ya.”

“Got done early, headed home as soon as I could.” Charles rubbed noses with Arthur before kissing him. Then moved down a bit to kiss Dyani. “Saw all those horses in the barn. You been busy?”

Arthur moved the baby to Charles shoulder towel and all. “Not by choice, but my hand was forced. Descent horses should fetch a good price after a little training.” Arthur went to pour the warm water into the waiting bath.

“Whatcha mean?” Charles asked his worry coming back to full force.

“Ohhhhhhh, small gang of outlaws broke into our house in the middle of the night. Thinking they could strong arm me for some money and well…pleasurable company.” Arthur said with a hum. “They hit the ground after sayin what they wanted and I got to work.”

“You took out a gang of outlaws?” Charles asked in shock holding Dyani closer now.

“While nursing.” Arthur sounded proud of himself. “I ain’t puttin up with nobody’s foolishness.” He looked back at Charles. “….we’re alright, I took care of everything.”

Charles was stunned for a moment. “You know something Arthur? I sometimes forget who you are and what you’re capable of. You are so sweet and caring, now that where out of the life it’s easy to forget.”

Arthur snickered cheeks turning red. “Imma Arthur goddamned Morgan Smith. I have a bounty of five thousand dollars and pretty red letters underneath saying don’t approach.” He bragged. “Husband of Charles Smith which they can’t find or charge. mama of the prettiest baby in four territories!” He leaned over and kissed Charles.

“Imma complicate feller you know?”

Charles smiled into the kiss. Nodding in agreement. “Yeah yeah you’re complicated. I’m glad you and Dyani are safe when I’m gone.”

“Miss ya awfully fierce when ya are gone. Makes me grumpy.”

“Those poor souls.”

“Ya got that right.”