#I feel like one of those water squish toys

[hawnks]

commence: SILLY TIME

[byexbyez]

lovers of valdaro | leon kennedy x reader

PART I  |  PART II  |  PART III (finale)

pairing: leon kennedy x f!reader 

summary: Some things have changed. The months, the weather, the air that hangs between Leon and you. Yet one thing has remained constant: his desire to keep you as close as possible. 

word count: 8.2K of gratuitous smut 

warnings: 18+, smut, established relationship, pda, bickering, consensual somnophilia, groping, dry humping, unprotected p in v, fingering, prone boning, swearing, slight dom/sub undertones, pet names, an attempt at praise kink, pill as contraception, creampie, oral sex (f!receiving), marking, unintentional edging, masturbation, aftercare, no use of y/n, oh and ooc 

notes: i’m sorry to those who were expecting pt 3 to be angsty. i wanted to portray some changes and get used to writing and publishing smut. also, this can be read separately as it is almost all smut. enjoy!

➵ read on ao3.

“This man yaps a lot,” Leon says from behind you, you’re startled by his voice near your ear. His lips tickle your earshell. Like a cat’s fur standing up, your shoulders go up slightly. Renting only one sunbed –a narrow chair, really– for the two of you starts to feel like a mistake. Well, you plan to swim anyway, I’ll just sunbathe, you had said earlier, failing to account for Leon’s FOMO when you pulled out your book from your beach bag. For some reason, he was interested in anything that captured your attention as of late. 

You were looking at travel guides for you and your sister back at home when Leon saw your laptop screen. “What’s this?” he asked, adjusting the screen so he could see it better. 

“Beaches in Italy,” you answered. “My sister will be using her yearly vacation this year. I’m making  a list of places we can go if she asks.” Leon was silent and when you turned to him, already watching you intently. “What?” 

“Our anniversary is coming up.” 

You looked at the date, wondering why he brought it up. “I guess it is.” 

“How about we go? Before your sister asks, I mean,” he suggested, scratching the back of his neck. 

You straightened up on the couch. “You wanna go on a vacation with me?” 

The corners of his lips curled up. “Err, I believe I asked you first.” 

A little girl runs by your sunbed with her arms full of plastic toys, screaming with joy as she plops down to the sand. The bottoms of her tiny feet are red, probably because of how hot the sand is. She begins digging up sand with her toy shovel. 

“It’s Dostoevsky,” you say, like that would be enough clarification for Leon. His arm comes up to pinch the book up top to flip it and peek at its title, which reads “White Nights.”  Propping up your elbow on your torso to adjust both your book and your attention, you try to move as little as possible to not disturb him. He basically made you sit between his legs and lay your back on his chest, saying he would take a dip in the sea in a few minutes. 

You know he’s about to speak again when your head rises along his chest. “He’s been talking nonstop for three pages.” 

“Leon, I’m trying to focus.” 

The little girl a few feet away lets out a frustrated cry when her castle crumbles down, her little arms flap irritably, chucking the toy shovel in front of her in the process. A slightly older boy, probably her brother, comes to the rescue with a bucket full of sea water. He shows his little sister how to wet the sand for it to hold shape. The sound of waves crashing against the breakwater drowns out their shrill laughter.

“You’re squishing your boob,” Leon blurts out, takes hold of the planted elbow on your breast and lifts it in the air. 

Trying to follow the words, your head knocks on Leon’s chin. “I can’t read like this. Let go of my arm.” 

“Nuh-uh. If I let go, you’re gonna keep pressing your arm to your boob and have a nip slip.” 

“I’m not gonna have a nip slip.” 

“Whatever the correct verb for a nip slip is, it will happen.” His chin digs into the crown of your hair. “And those teenagers will remember this day forever.” 

Your eyebrows scrunch together. “What teenagers?” 

“The ones that are looking this way,” Leon states in a matter-of-factly tone. He’s right, a bunch of boys are in the sea, laughing among themselves by splashing water. Every now and then their heads tilt up to your direction. 

You look down on yourself to see if the swimsuit is covering you like it’s supposed to. There’s nothing wrong with it, yet that doesn’t stop you from setting the book down on your stomach. “Why are they looking here? What’s wrong with my swimsuit?” 

“It looks good on you, that’s why. Hormonal teenagers.” 

“I think it’s the position we’re in,” you mumble. Your back feels damp with sweat as you peel away from him, sitting up further away.

But Leon has other plans, he snakes his hand around your shoulder and plants his palm right on your sternum, pulling you back to him by your chest. 

“Oof,” you breathe out once you collide with his torso again. 

He taps his fingers on your breastbone as he catches the slipping book on your lap. “Here, I’ll hold it. You turn the pages.” 

“It’s too hot for this,” you groan. 

“Pardon me for doing something,” he says, sounding neither hurt nor sorry. 

“You said you’d swim,” you say, though it sounds more like a suggestion. “Want me to lather you up in sunscreen? I know you didn’t put it on back at the hotel.” 

“I mean, when you ask it like that, sure.” He’s grinning like a cheshire cat, it warms your heart that he’s pleased with himself just by managing to get under your skin. Something quite like a heartbeat, it feels intimate, an embrace out in the open. In a snap, you shake off the feeling. You’re not going to see these people again, they do not know you, just like how you don’t know the couple dipping their feet in the water while holding hands, little girl building sandcastles with her brother, young boys jumping on each other’s backs. Who would have thought being a stranger to all of it would make your yearning flesh all the more tender? 

Your wandering eyes shut in bliss when you feel it. A featherlight, barely-there kiss on the back of your neck, placed just below your hair, followed by the disappearance of your book from your sight. Leon reaches down to drop it in your bag, you wiggle away to let him search for the bottle of sunscreen. 

“Take your shirt off,” you say once you turn to face him. 

“Damn, woman. At least buy me dinner first.” 

“Can you get any cornier? You’re getting overpriced beer at best.” 

“...May your sky always be clear, may your dear smile always be bright and happy, and may you be for ever blessed for that moment of bliss and happiness which you gave to another lonely and grateful heart. Isn't such a moment sufficient for the whole of one's life–?”

Your attention snaps away from your book over a playful voice. “Hey, miss. Sorry to bother you.” Leon is standing a few steps in front of your chair, hands on his hips, most of his weight on one leg. Water drops cling to his firm chest, following a delectable path down his muscles. Some even caress his faded scars gently, a reminder that he has endured things far from gentle. His hair seems darker due to saltwater, the tips of it almost poking his eyes, by the looks of him having to shake them away from his face when he attempts to tilt his head to the side. “Are you perhaps single?” 

You purse your lips to suppress a grin. “Why are you asking?” 

“I’m interested.” 

“Oh,” you croon in mock-embarrassment. “I’m married.” You make sure to show off the gold band on your ring finger. 

He walks next to your chair. “Lucky guy. Speaking of, where is he?” His gaze lingers on your legs that are bent towards your chest, the book propped up on your knees. 

You close the book and play along. “He’s swimming.” 

“Is he a good swimmer?” 

“Yeah, his strokes are phenomenal.” 

His eyebrows shoot up. “Are we still talking about swimming?” 

You tilt your head to the side. “Why yes, is there a misunderstanding?” 

“No, no. Just making sure we’re on the same page here. Tell me more about him.” 

You gesture to the empty room on the foot of the sunchair. “Then you might want to sit here for a while. Maybe dry off?” 

“I’d love to keep you company until your husband shows up.” Leon sits sideways next to your feet, way too familiar for a ‘stranger.’ “What’s he like?”

“First of all, he looks a lot like you.” You press your lips together. This is ridiculous. “He’s also incredibly annoying.” When Leon gasps half-mockingly, you cast a sideways glance at him. “His jokes are really corny, he’s lucky I put up with them.” 

“That might hurt his feelings.” 

“Well, he’s not here.” 

He scrunches his eyebrows together, there’s a visible question mark in his blink. “My jokes are that bad?” 

“Aaand, the play is over.” You slap your knees lightly, sliding your feet towards Leon until your toes touch the side of his thigh. “We are not sharing the chair again. You’re still dripping.” 

A sluggish sigh escapes his lips. “Let me lean on you at least.” 

And before you can say no, Leon is relocating your hands from your knees, moving them by your wrists, placing your arms at your sides. He folds his own arms on top of your knees and rests his temple on them, hugging your knees to himself, looking off into the side. You could lean forward and bury your nose in his hair like this, inhale the sun and salt, let your lips linger, let him feel the ghost of a kiss for a change. Though he was always better at unprompted acts of affection, maybe because he didn’t think much of it. 

It’s peaceful—the secluded space you’ve managed to carve out for the two of you, despite the chaos of the crowded beach. It feels like a quiet world unto itself, hidden in plain sight amid a sea of distant faces, as if removed from everything around you. It’s strangely intimate. Minutes or hours pass, you can’t make out which, lost in the stillness. 

When Leon speaks, his thumb starts brushing your knee. “I can hear you think,” he murmurs, his voice low. What’s going on in that head of yours? 

“Will you tell me a truth?” you ask, almost in a whisper. 

Leon doesn’t lift his head up, lazy like a cat in the sun. Although his body reminds him to be on guard upon hearing a kid yell in the distance, his muscles twitch reflexively. “Why?” 

“For all of this to feel real.” Your eyes follow the slope of his nose, then the squished red cheek leaning on his forearm. The sunscreen you copiously put on his nose bridge couldn’t protect his skin. You can’t help but admire his long lashes, fluttering so prettily the action could make butterflies jealous. 

His answer surprises you. “I’m scared all the time.” 

“Of what?” 

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” His thumb stops moving so he can squeeze your kneecap. “I’m scared that one day you’ll want us to go our separate ways. I’m scared that I will not be able to let you go. You know I wasn’t able to do it the first time around. I dread the day you won’t want to see my face again.” 

“Leon–” 

“Sometimes I get scared that something will happen to you and I will lose you.” 

It dawns on you then. The reason why you’ve been waking up to strong arms tangled around your waist for months. 

“Leon, nothing’s going to happen to me.” 

However, he’s still going on. “If you decide you’ve had enough, just let me know, okay? Don’t just up and leave.” 

Your throat constricts itself. You don’t know what to say to that. Part of you wants to do just that: up and leave. Not the way he means but in a way to escape his hold, step aside to mull it over and come up with a humane response. The fact that he couldn’t meet your eyes while saying all that leaves your heart with a dull ache, chest too heavy to even breathe. 

He finally looks up, expression unreadable. His eyes scour your face, searching for something. “Does it feel real now?” 

You swallow on nothing as you meet his eyes. Sure, you nod. It terrifies you how real it actually feels. 

Leon thinks he’s a genius for lowering the temperature of the air-conditioning while you were in the bathroom, carrying out your night routine. No, he didn’t have any malicious intent, not at all, he was just sweating a lot even after his shower. By the time you entered the bed in your pajamas, you suspected nothing, lifted the bedcover to join him. Your skin was glowing from all the products he couldn’t wrap his head around, your lips were shining clear. For a moment, he wanted to plant his mouth to your lips and taste the vaseline. 

He was aroused, which was not surprising considering the amount of sex you two had been having. It’s become so regular that he thinks he never had this much compatibility with anyone before. Goodnight, Leon, you murmured before gracing him with the sight of your back, voice so sweet he nearly whined out of desperation. He didn’t know why he waited for your breathing to fall steady, he’s been holding you in your sleep for a while now. Every morning you wake up before him and toss his arms aside, get the day started. 

When he’s sure that you’ve fallen asleep, he makes his move, drapes an arm around your waist, pressing his bare chest to your clothed back, spooning you. He’s careful not to wake you despite the evidence of his arousal resting against your ass. Normally, he would ignore it and take care of it in the morning but you make that impossible by squirming in your sleep. A few minutes pass by and he guesses the room must feel like an icebox to you, he knows you get cold quickly. Leon thinks he’s a genius because he could just wake you up and suggest warming you up. He also thinks he’s a fool because what if you don’t wake up, with all this squirming? He could move to the side and wait for the cold to do its own thing or he could just get up and go to the bathroom to rub one out. Or he could lower his boxers, do it right here. He’s positive you wouldn’t mind, that’s how intimate you two have become.  

Before he can decide, a shiver takes over your body, a soft whimper escaping your lips. Now Leon feels bad. He’ll just get up and fix the AC to an acceptable temperature. 

You shrivel into him, searching for warmth. The arm across your waist reaches up, the entirety of his hand cupping your breast that’s pressed against the bed. His body runs hot despite the breeze in the hotel room, so he thinks this will help. Just as a quiet, needy cry from your throat travels to his burning ears, his other arm snakes beneath your body to press against your belly. He squeezes you tightly until he can feel the blood pumping through your veins, buries his nose into the crook of your neck. Inhaling deeply bestows on him your enticing scent. 

Guilt washes over him as he ruts his hips into your sleep shorts, because who becomes an animal in heat when they smell clean soap? 

Leon. Leon does. 

The smallest things have been setting him off. All of your flimsy sundresses, swaying of your hips in them, your smooth legs, the gold anklet that matches with your wedding ring, the swimsuit that makes your cleavage call his attention. You, taking his arm while walking side to side. In fact, he suppressed smothering his face into your cheek today at lunch—cuteness aggression— as he tried to eat his food in peace. You were enjoying your pasta, humming contentedly after your first bite, you smiled at him when you caught him watching you intently. Leon was never into taking pictures but at that moment, he wanted to engrave the picture of you smiling up at him lovingly into his memory for the future, remember your crinkled eyes and adorably scrunched up nose when he would miss you. He knew he would miss that moment right when it was happening, he’d be gone again for an assignment soon. 

“What?” You laughed.

“That good?” he asked, eyes pointing to your bowl of pasta. 

“Yep! Want some?” 

Leon keeps clinging until your body twitches no longer, takes deep breaths against your neck, pleased as his heat completely stills you. His hold relaxes as he becomes aware of his grip strength. He releases his clamped fingers from your breast, stroking your nipple apologetically. It will surely leave a mark on your soft skin, which you will whine about later, though he knows deep down you enjoy him being rough with you. After all, it was you who brought up that you weren’t made of glass, he didn’t need to act as if you were going to break. 

Your soft sighs soothe him to an extent, as far as the strain in his boxers allow. Fuck it, he thinks. He’s still humping your backside, cock throbbing. He’s going to wake you up. Pounce on you once you open your eyes. 

Forefinger and thumb pinching a hardening nipple, he nuzzles his face into where your neck meets your shoulder, dropping heavy kisses first, then switching to sucking your skin. If he could drown in your smell, he would. “Honey, please wake up.” 

“Hm?” He hears you, heart starting to beat even faster. “Leon?” Your first touch is on his arms, fingertips ice cold, groggy voice calling to him. 

“You awake?” he breathes in your ear. 

Feeling tickled, your shoulder rises to your ear. “Clearly,” you reply hoarsely. His thigh is glued to the back of yours, reaching back to hold it, you manage to slow his movements. His erection is fully pressed against you. “Everything okay?” 

“No.” He pants in your hair. “Need to fuck you.” 

“Leon,” you groan, face dropping fully into your pillow. “I’m too tired.” 

“Please, you don’t need to do anything.” 

“Don’t think I can even lift my leg.” 

“Then don’t. I’ll do everything. Lift your hips for a second so I can get this off?” 

“Fine,” you huff, rolling onto your stomach so his strong-willed hands can strip off your shorts along with your underwear. “We don’t have lube.” 

He drops a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll just have to prep you.” 

Ugh, so sweet. “Make it quick,” you say as he carefully sits on the backs of your thighs, his knees trapping your legs together. “How do we do this?” 

“Stay still,” he mumbles, barely audible. You grow impatient as you hear him moving in the dark, taking off his only piece of clothing. He reaches over to the bedside drawer to turn on the lamp. The blanket is scattered across the bed. You hiss sharply, eyes adjusting to the soft light. 

He holds your shoulders firmly. “What’s wrong?” 

“Why is it so cold?” 

Somehow, you can hear him grinning behind you. “The AC’s broken.” 

“Have you tried calling the reception? It’s too cold for this.” 

“I’ll warm you up,” he says as his heat hovers over you, fingers hiking up your flimsy camisole to gain access to your waist, the other hand shaking off the thin straps. He buries his nose into the back of your neck, kissing a path to your right shoulder, sharp teeth grazing skin along the way. He shifts his attention to your left shoulder, reaching down to cup your ass, pulling apart your cheeks. His fingers find your sex straight away; he’s familiar with your body. 

“You’re a bit wet for someone who’s feeling too tired,” he teases. 

You don’t bother with pleasantries. “I will leave you blue-balled for the rest of the week.” 

“Right,” he says. “Lift your head up.” 

“I just woke up, you’re asking for too much from me.” 

He nudges his nose into the back of your ear instead of answering. Kiss me, he demands, pressing his hips to your plushness. Familiar with his silent commands, you submit to his reign, craning your neck back, open mouth chasing his. 

Your mouths clash unceremoniously. It’s messy, sloven, uncoordinated, and animalistic. He finds your tongue in no time, suckling on the wet muscle all the while managing to lift your shoulders off the bed to drop your thin straps around your elbows, pulling your camisole down. Now your top sits below your naked breasts, bunched around your middle like a thick headband. Leon’s jaw moves as if he’s thirsty, drinking from your mouth unapologetically. The noises from your so-called kissing are obscene, filling the room along with the sounds of heavy breathing. Heat starts to pool in your lower belly, body slowly warming up. 

Quick as a wink, a strong hand wraps around the back of your neck, pushing you face down to the mattress. Your surprised yelp into your pillow is cut short once he pulls your hair gently, laughing next to your ear. “Don’t want you to suffocate. Try to keep your head up. Can you do that for me, honey?” 

Rolling your eyes, you bite back a remark. Resting your cheek on the pillow is all he’s going to get. After all, he did tell you that you didn’t need to do anything. Your crushed breasts feel funny, one side aching considerably more than the other, owing to him groping it roughly while you were sleeping. 

Leon lets out a low chuckle and continues his undeterred path from your jaw to your neck, nipping at skin, leaving a stinging sensation behind. His knees make room for your squirming legs, a perfect chance for him to dip his hand between your thighs, a slight part of your legs to accommodate his fingers on your cunt. Rubbing your lower lips, he slicks his fingers with your wetness. 

Your breath hitches when two pads of fingers make contact with your clit, drawing tight circles. “That feel good?” His voice is muffled by your skin. 

You groan a noise of confirmation as he puts more pressure on his fingertips, quickening his movements on your now soaked pussy. His thumb catches at your entrance, maybe accidentally, and you can’t hold yourself back from pursuing that pleasure, back arching so your hips could sway up, chasing his touch. Thankfully, he is quick to place his thumb back, swiping back and forth. The double stimulation on your opening and clit creates enough lubrication for him to slide right in. 

Your eagerness doesn’t go unnoticed by Leon, the feel of his teeth on your earlobe is a wary appreciation. “Too tired, huh? Look at you.” He means your hips in the air, quivering right in front of his view. “Lemme help you relax.” 

You think he’ll finally thrust himself in, however, you’re taken by surprise when he works two fingers into you, the stretch unexpected, but appreciated nonetheless. He shoves your hips back down into the mattress, arm across the small of your back to keep you steady against the bed. “Don’t be disappointed. I need to open you up first,” he speaks into your temple, nose pressed to the tail of your eyebrow. He starts moving his fingers in and out. “Don’t want you to hurt.” 

He grabs a handful of your ass to pull apart while working your cunt open with his fingers. Your whole body feels electrified each time he strokes the velvety walls of your pussy, throat humming with need. 

“Leon…” you moan, wanting to arch into him. Your desperate hand slides under your belly to touch your clit. “Enough.” 

But that’s not what you want to tell him. You want to tell him this is not enough, he needs to be inside you right now or you will start to wail, turn over and jump his bones. This is quite the opposite from where everything started, with you worked up and fussy in his hands, unable to speak properly. 

You feel him watching his own hand between your legs, ears perked up for the sounds coming from where you are gushing, shallowing his thrusts once he feels your fingers join in. “Enough? You don’t want to come first?” 

“S’cold,” you cry out. “Fuck me already.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, honey,” he coos at you, pulling his soaked digits out of you, head rising to meet with your parted lips. The arm around your waist slides up, fingers gently digging into your scalp to hold you in place as he kisses you, using the fingers he just pulled out of you to slick up his cock. He moans into your mouth before pulling away. 

“You have me. Ready?” 

You nod into the pillow. 

As he presses his swollen tip into you, he watches the back of your head tip back with a shiver, your neck exposed for him to reach and grab. Instead, he wraps his arm around your neck in a gentle headlock, helping you rest your cheek on his bicep, the movement helping him slip further inside you. 

Hot, bullish breaths burrow into your neck when he is buried to the hilt, balls pressed against your clit and fingers that are spreading yourself. 

“Fuck, you smell so good,” he whispers, his torso meeting your back. 

He presses his entire weight down onto you and it is glorious, being trapped between him and the mattress, surrounded by his body heat with no room to flee. Not that you even consider it. Though your wrist, strained under the weight, digs into your pelvis as he begins to thrust feverishly. “Oh, fuck,” he grunts. 

Your mouth opens to let him know of the awkward position your arm is in but you only manage to moan wantonly. He takes it as a cue to snap his hips faster. 

“Wait, Leon—my wrist.” 

He stops completely, lifting his hips slightly for you to pull your arm out from underneath, dropping a kiss in your hair as an apology. “Fuck, sorry. Forgot your hand was there. Are you good? Am I too heavy?” 

Your hands fist around the sheets to brace yourself. He did not pull himself fully out of you, you just want him to fill you to the brim again. Even though you don’t know if you can come like this. “No, I’m good. Let’s continue.” 

As your wish comes true, his hips pick up a frenzied pace, the bed starts to shake. You don’t know how he manages it, you’re immobilized under him, high on the pleasurable feeling. Your poor nipples are chafing against the sheets with all the movement. The noises escaping your lips are embarrassingly loud, mingling with the creaky springs of the hotel bed. He doesn’t hold back either, sucking love-bites wherever his mouth can reach, moaning against your spit-lacquered skin. Palms sliding under your shoulders to hold you even closer, he squeezes you to himself while letting his weight push you hard into the mattress. 

It’s as if he wants to open up his chest and tuck you beneath his ribs, or crawl beneath your skin from behind, until you both become one. 

His pace falters, you squeak as he bottoms out, walls pulsing around him. He must have been desperately horny, for he is spitting out delirious things in your ear. “Fuck, fuck, fuck— you look so cute. You always do.” 

“Huh?” 

Rather than addressing your confusion, he leans in your face. One hand cups your jaw, guiding your face to his, squishing your cheeks together until your lips are puckered, ready for him to attack, though it’s a pleasant assault of kisses. “You’re so—” Kiss. “Soft.” Kiss. “It makes me crazy.” Kiss. “And you always smell so good.” Kiss. 

“Leon, what’s gotten into you—mmph!” 

He doesn’t care about what you have to say about his raving state; instead, he crashes his lips to yours for a longer, deeper kiss. His strong arm hugs your neck again, cradling you to himself. You swallow his animalistic groan when your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling on the tresses while trying to squirm. His hair has gotten so long; a luxury of taking time off work. 

His hips start to grind, precise snaps eliciting small sounds out of both of you, his cock massaging your innermost crevices. 

“You’re like an angel,” he whispers in your mouth, panting wildly. “You feel like heaven. God, I love you. I can’t believe—shit, I’m close. I’m gonna come. Tell me where to come.” 

If he wasn’t literally in your face, you might have missed it—that sacred, dangerous word slipping past his lips as if it was an everyday occurrence. 

It didn’t even register at first, partly because it happened so quickly and partly because it made you clamp down on him with an intense ripple of pleasure, causing him to grunt. 

Losing all strength in your muscles, you sag against his arm on the pillow, neck too numb to keep your head up, feet plopping down with a pat. When did you lift your feet up? 

Like a snap of a thread, his demeanor changes instantly. Concerned, he brushes your hair away from your face hastily. “Baby, did you just come?” 

A sound resembling “yes” is murmured into your pillow, your whole body feeling prickly upon the fondness in his voice, spasming uncontrollably. He’s still inside you, reaching incredibly deep, hip bones digging into the meat of your ass, caging you in his warmth. 

“Didn’t even need me to touch your clit,” he says. There’s that smugness in his tone, like he didn’t just rock your whole world. 

Feeling fuzzy around the edges, you remember his need to have a release, and words rush out without much thought, “Inside. Come inside.” 

The faint rhythm of his hips turn sloppy upon hearing you. He’s gasping, “Are you sure?” 

“Yes, I’m on the pill.” 

“Fuck. Thank you, baby.” 

His face finds home in your neck again. It’s not long before you feel the thick trickle of warmth filling you up. Coming to his senses, his arms loosen around you, waiting for his breathing to turn to normal. 

You can sleep like this, you think. With him literally in your skin, smothered under his delectable weight. It’s calming. 

Eventually, he pulls out and rolls over on his back, the absence of his weight feels oddly sad. He turns his neck towards you. “That was… something else. How are you feeling?” 

You stretch your arms, sliding them under your pillow. “Like I’ve just run a marathon. And I didn’t even move much.” 

“Now that you’re properly tired, you’re gonna sleep like a log.” He chuckles, throwing an arm on his forehead. 

You slide a hand between your legs, knitting your eyebrows, reconsidering. “We need to clean up first.” 

“Right,” he sighs. “I promised you I wouldn’t make you move, didn’t I? Wait here.”

Before you can say anything, he gets up from the bed, picks up his underwear from the ground and heads to the bathroom. You don’t move in case the viscid fluids threaten to leak onto the bed. He comes back with a few rolled-up toilet papers and a damp towel, with his underwear on. He sits on the edge of the bed next to you. 

You spread your legs as he holds up the rolled-up toilet papers to your dripping entrance. “Push it out.” 

You squeeze out the mixture of you and him. Your cheeks flare up, not because of embarrassment. But because of something else. Him instructing you with a raspy voice shouldn’t get you fired up, your limbs are still weak from the earth-shattering orgasm he pulled out of you, but your body reacts on its own volition. 

“I didn’t know you were on the pill,” he continues as he wipes down your sweat with the towel. 

“A recent development,” you say, eyes heavy with sleepiness. “Started it a while ago, I meant to tell you.” 

“That’s fine.” He cleans up the residue between your thighs lastly. The pressure of his touch is so careful, in case you’re overstimulated. “Honestly, I think I found out about it in the best way.” 

A small chuckle from you eases his heart. The image of you lying naked on your belly, your head turned to the side with bleary eyes is like a painting to him. He leans down and places a gentle kiss between your shoulder blades. 

“Can I wake you up in the morning?” he mutters into your skin before hoisting your camisole to its place on your shoulders. 

You understand his implication. “Yeah, but no sooner than eight or I’ll be super cranky.” 

“We’ll miss breakfast.” 

“Breakfast or sex. The choice is yours.” 

“Room service it is.” 

Eventually, he finds your panties and shorts under the blankets, lifts them up over your hips, and finishes dressing you.

You give him a smile, fingers resting on your lips as you ponder. “I have something to ask you.”

“I know,” he replies, too quickly. He’s aware of the things he’s just said. “I know you want to talk about it. But I feel awful for disturbing your sleep. You’re tired. We can talk all you want in the morning. Just know that I meant it.” 

“C’mere,” you whisper, rolling onto your side to reach out to him.

This time, it’s Leon who seeks warmth, succumbing to the balmy caress of your hand as you pull him in.

The kiss is too soft, too fragile, and he wants it to linger forever. 

He’s offended when you pull away abruptly. But that feeling is short-lived as you turn your head away to sneeze twice. “Bless you,” he says. 

Deep down inside, remembering he changed the settings of the AC, he rolls his eyes at himself. He gets up and turns it off, throwing the soiled toilet papers in the trash on his way. “I’ll call the reception the first thing tomorrow.” 

Leon is insatiable. 

The first things he notices when he opens his crusty eyes is his morning wood and the deep red hues scattered across the back of your neck in front of his face. Wiping the sleep from his eyes with one hand—the other arm trapped under your neck—he presses himself to your backside. A repeat of what started everything. 

He retracts after letting out a low growl into your hair, only to roll you on your back by your shoulders. You’re still asleep, muscles all soft and pliant under his maneuvering. So pretty, he thinks. The tiny flutter of your eyelashes casts soft, quivering shadows on the apples of your cheeks as warm sunlight streams into the room through a narrow gap in the curtains. Hovering over you between your legs, he cups your face, thumbs caressing the dainty shadows. His breaths fan your face as a gentle nudge to your slumber. 

“Baby…” he croaks, voice all ragged from hours of disuse over the night. 

Even in your sleep you seek out his touch, nuzzling your face into his palm, rousing something carnal in him. His lips get to work on your throat briskly, sucking the delicate skin, humming against it. 

He feels the vibrations of the mellow sound your throat gives out against his lips and continues the path down to your clavicle, leaving ruddy blemishes behind. Rubbing up and down on your thighs, his palms curve behind the backs of your knees, bending them to spread your legs completely open against the bed. He presses his hard-on to your center. 

Your cunt must be sore, he’ll kiss it better. 

He mouths at the tops of your breasts, palms fondling them up in his face. “I’ll take care of you,” he whispers, though you’re too drowsy to hear. 

His head slips down the blanket, your cover slides down your body as it gets caught on his broad back, opening an airway for him. 

He starts littering kisses on the inside of your thigh, beginning from your knee and continuing the path up to your groin, pulling back each time his nose touches the verge of your panties. He looks up expectantly to see you stir. Because once he sees you awake, he’ll devour you. 

You are stirring, head lolling in an attempt to turn on your side. Leon’s hands quickly clamp down on your thighs, “Nuh-uh.” He denies you, keeping your hips still. His mouth switches to your other thigh, repeating his ministrations. 

His teeth graze the edge of your underwear. Your leg twitches under his touch, which further encourages his sudden urge. 

Blunt teeth sink into the soft, supple flesh of your inner thigh. 

That seems to wake you up as your head jerks, hand flying to his hair between your legs under the blanket. “Ow.” 

“Morning.” His tongue darts out to soothe the dull ache. 

With heavy eyelids, you crane your neck to assess the situation. His lips are slick and plump from all the kissing and biting. “Mhm. Good morning.” Yawning, you cover your mouth with the back of your hand, the other one cards through Leon’s hair lazily. As your grip tightens, you drop your head back to the pillow to blink away the haziness. 

The sounds of his lips smacking against your skin are accompanied by the fan noises filling the room. You realize you’re no longer sweating like you were through the night, when the broken air-conditioning left you sweltering—or would have had you freezing if it were actually running. You’re confused. “AC’s working again?” 

You feel him smiling against your thigh. “Yeah. Called the reception and everything.” 

“What was wrong with it?” 

“I’m literally in between your legs and that’s what you wanna know? Like, right now?” He nuzzles your underwear, placing a kiss on your clothed center to stress his frustration, which you reply with a startled whimper. 

“First, I risked frostbite and then sweated like it was hell. Of fucking course I wanna know the reason of my suffering.” 

“You didn’t suffer,” he says in a jeering tone, fingers hooking under your panties to peel them off. He’s quick to get rid of that obstructive piece of fabric. “I’d say I took pretty good care of you.” 

You roll your eyes dramatically. “Yeah, yeah—world’s best husband or whatever, keeps waking me up because he’s horny.” 

“Hey, you said breakfast or pussy and I made my choice.” 

He licks a path up from your entrance to your clit, your hips jump. He grips your thighs and slings them over his shoulders. 

“I did not say that.” Words slurred, your eyes close upon the honeyed sensation. 

“Something along those lines,” he mumbles, lips brushing against the sensitive little bud of nerves. 

You kick the blanket off his back so he doesn’t suffocate under the heat. The slight temperature change makes your hips jerk up to his face, his morning stubble scratches the insides of your thighs deliciously. He drapes an arm across your abdomen to keep you steady. His other arm tugs on the thigh slung over his shoulder, only slightly, to make room for his head. 

Two fingers brush your slit, spreading apart slowly to gain access to your most sensitive parts. It’s still a little tender and swollen that when his hot breath fans across the sensitive flesh, your legs try to shut instinctively. His hold grows stronger to remind you not to squash his head. He licks a broad swipe up your slit and looks up at you through his long lashes. 

You can’t help but moan. He looks so pretty like this. 

Leaning forward, he places a kiss directly on your clitoris, the soft smack sound sends a hot burn to your ears. 

He parts his lips to suck your sensitive clit into his mouth, your back arches as you gasp. His plump lips pull on the taut flesh, making you writhe against the sheets. Now aware of your fist that was bunching the sheets this whole time, you let go to join it with your other hand in his hair.  

He’s always liked your hands in his hair, petting it, tugging at it, pulling it to steer him to where you need him most, he loves it all. He moans as you make a mess of his soft tresses, sending jolts of vibrations up your body. 

Relaxing his tight jaw with a wet pop, he quickly drops a kiss to the juncture of your thigh and begins to lap up your dripping mound like a starved man. 

“Leon!” Your back arches again, hands buried in his hair pressing his face firmly between your legs. You’re not sure if he can even breathe with your thighs caging him. You don’t care, he’ll tap you if he wants to take a breather. 

Blindly, the hand that keeps your slit open slides up to your chest, to push between the valley of your breasts. You clutch your palm on the back of his hand, fingers slotting between his. He squeezes his hand once. I’m alright, it means. He keeps your intertwined hands there. 

His face burrows deeper into your slick, thrusting his tongue into your hole in and out. Nose pressed against your clit, he hums contentedly and starts wiggling his head, sending a wave of pleasure through your body. 

The gasps that fall from your lips fuel him, he drags his tongue back up to your sensitive bud, flicking up and down with only one goal in his mind. 

Up and down. Suck. Up and down. Suck. 

“Too much, ‘s too much!” You repeat with a shaky voice. But you are insatiable too, with the way you guide his hand to your tit, encouraging him to squeeze tight. 

“I know, baby, I know. Just tell me when,” he rasps, trying to keep up with your bucking hips. Groping your breast under your pressing palm, he can’t quite reach to your shoulder to lower the straps of your top, though his fingers find your taut nipple through the fabric and start to draw circles around the pebbled peak. 

His stubble burns your thighs so good it only drives you more crazy. Your droopy eyes lock with his determined ones, mouth hanging open in a silent moan, hand brushing away the hair on his forehead. 

He tightens his tongue and places the tip of it right on your sensitive clit, wriggling the wet muscle in a snake-like fashion, and listens to your moans. Each roll of his tongue is a sweet torment, delivering sparks of pleasure to your quivering body. 

“That’s not—ah!—that’s not fair.” 

His mouth never leaving your pussy, he hums questioningly. “Mm?” The short syllable vibrates through your core, making you fussier. 

What’s not fair? His hips grinding into the mattress? The hand that previously held you down now slipping under his boxers to rub his slick, swollen tip? Fairness is not even the last thing on his mind right now. He’s too drunk on your essence, happily suffocated between your legs, unaware of the fast pace his hand picks up on his cock. He’s fully pumping himself. 

You also know you’re not making any sense. A hot blush warms your chest, travels up your neck to your ears, a thin sheen of sweat coating your skin. Your body is screaming for release, of course you don’t have any idea what you are blabbering about. 

Feeling your clit pulse beneath his tongue, he waits to hear your staccato breathing, waits for the tumble of unintelligible words to fall on his ears. 

“Leon, I’m… I’m—ah, fuck!” 

Just before the intense wave of pleasure comes crashing down on you, he tears his mouth away from you, panting for oxygen. 

“No, please,” you cry out. “Don’t be mean.” 

Not wanting to deny you stimulation, he gets to work on your tit and gives it a firm squeeze for good measure before returning his fingers to your aching nipple. He toys with it, flicking, pressing down, pinching through fabric. You whine softly through it all, trying to wrap your trembling legs tighter around his head so he could return to what he was doing before. 

“Please, I was about to come…” 

“I know, honey, I’m sorry. I needed to breathe.” He plucks at your nipple, rolling it before returning to your sex. 

This time he alternates between kitten licks and soft kisses on your clit, meant to be soothing. It feels as if he’s grazing a feather on your oversensitive, swelled up nerves. It’s so ticklish that your hips jump to chase after the phantom itch. 

That’s all it takes for the overwhelming waves of pleasure to come crashing down on you. The coil in your belly snaps. Eager as ever, he presses his open and panting mouth against your cunt, moaning against the spasming flesh. Cleaning up the remnants of your climax is only a poor excuse for his lips to linger. He presses a kiss to your thigh before pulling away from between your legs, the slick coating his mouth and chin leaves your skin damp. 

Taking a deep breath, he rises to sit on his knees between your thighs. Your legs drop from his shoulders. Pride fills his chest once he eyes up the litter of love-bites on your flushed skin. His doing. The rapid rise and fall of your chest. Also his doing. 

Through a fucked-out smile, you say, “What? What’s so funny?” 

Unaware that he’s cheesing, he shakes his head. “Nothing, honey. You look so pretty.” 

“I feel nasty, though.” 

He shuts you up with a kiss, making you taste yourself on his tongue. 

“Mm… How about you?” you mumble into the kiss while ruffling his soft hair. 

His hips are grinding against his hand in a faint rhythm, palm stroking up and down slowly. He huffs. “Keep spreading your legs and it won’t take long.” 

Discerning the questioning raise of your brow, he swipes a thumb at the corner of your lip. “I’m not gonna put it in. I know you’re sensitive, baby. Trust me. Please?” 

You wiggle a bit to open your legs further, trying to find a comfortable spot on the bed because the way he kept pinning you has you feeling sores on your butt. “Yeah, okay.” 

Lining himself up against your slit, he hovers his cock above your puffy cunt and keeps stroking. He groans and bucks into his hand, head falling backwards. You whimper and bunch the sheets in your fists. He looks so hot. His hair is chaotically messy, lips swollen and slick, hand working desperately on his cock. Your pussy flutters at the sight. 

Eyes zeroing in on your center, he says, “Show me. Hold yourself open.” 

You reach down and spread yourself for him, shamelessly displaying what he wants. Your hole clenches down on nothing upon the little stretch, pulling another groan out of him. 

He’s grinning, head tilted to the side. “Fuck, that’s it. Like what you see, huh?” 

You nod fast, staring at the movement between your legs. It’s captivating. 

Feeling devious, you lift your hips slightly to touch your pulsing clit to his red tip, directly to his precum-coated slit. Like a featherlight kiss. It sends a pleasurable shock through your entire body, you plop down on the bed again. 

“Oh shit—you…” His expression tells you he’s very close.

Gripping your thigh, he jerks himself to completion against your twitching pussy. Thick spurts of cum coat your center and belly, your thighs get to have their fair share, too. 

A breathless laugh escapes him, like he can’t quite believe what just happened. His gaze softens, as though clearing a daze. “I’m sorry. Let me carry you to the bathroom.”

A quiet shift lingers in the air. 

He’s so silent while massaging shampoo into your hair, cocooned by your arms around his waist, water cascading over his back. His lips are set in a straight line, eyes roaming your face and coming back to meet your gaze every once in a while. 

You and him, in that sacred, safe haven again. 

I can hear you think. He wills you to speak without saying the words. 

“You don’t need to be scared.” 

His hands pause in your hair. Of what? 

“The things you said at the beach yesterday… You don’t need to be scared, Leon. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving you,” you continue. 

He pulls you closer, cups the back of your neck and rests your head on his shoulder. I love you. 

“And I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing your face. I miss it terribly when you’re away.” You nudge his neck with your nose. 

He closes his eyes. I love you. 

“Tell me a truth?” you whisper, watching the slow up and down of his Adam’s apple. 

The urge to draw you even closer to himself is too strong. Come, live inside my skin—I’m yours, anyway. Instead, he opens his heavy-lidded eyes, locking his gaze with yours. 

“I love you.” 

With a slow and languid kiss, he seals his lips to yours, weaving your souls together in that tranquil, infinite moment. 

“At times I think of human relationships as something soft like sand or water, and by pouring them into particular vessels we give them shape.”

― Sally Rooney, Beautiful World, Where Are You

[wcters]

𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗧 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗔 𝗚𝗜𝗥𝗟𝗙𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗪𝗛𝗢 𝗡𝗔𝗣𝗦 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗘

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: matt with a girlfriend who is obsessed with naps/naps all the time

warnings/notes: established relationships, will probably be shorter than the last one 🤍 sorry

- you need coffee all the time

- or just any caffeine

- always nursing a red bull or iced coffee

- probably stopped working to keep you awake after awhile but you gaslight yourself into thinking it does

- you have woken up in matt’s bed with chris beside matt who’s beside you

- like hello? when did you show up and it’s too squished

- slipper socks . . . you have cold feet a lot

- you force matt to take his shoes off if he’s going on the bed. no matte how clean they are

- will not let him leave your naps

- have your own pillow and pillowcase at his house

- always have bags under your eyes

- sometimes you can’t sleep without matt

- like you have to be touching him somehow: legs tangled up, hand holding, something

- have a playlist of just phoebe bridgers songs to fall asleep to (same)

- love stealing and sleeping in his boxers and his shirts

- you’re one of those girls who will just wear shorts and a shirt but refuse to put anything else on if you get cold

- you’ll either cuddle up to matt or get more blankets

- MELATONIN GUMMIES

- you take em’ if you are just not falling asleep cause that happens

- have definitely fallen asleep in matt’s lap or something while he’s playing video games and he doesn’t have the heart to wake you up or tell you you’re in the way

- like that feeling when you have to get up when you have a cat in your lap

- sleep in a starfish position unless matt’s there

- nick, chris, and matt have so many 0.5’s of you sleeping

- #mouthbreather

- you’ve almost fallen asleep while you’re out for dinner

- have a shirt/sweater that says ‘i’m tired but i’m being brave about it’

- fall asleep to true crime

- talk about the most confusing and existential stuff and then fall asleep like nothing

- people complain you sleep too much? your just a girl 🎀

- when someone asks you to hang and and you say your busy your probably just taking a nap

- you and matt are always down for a nap

- you’re a sleepy couple

- you will set like 10 alarms to wake you up because you’ll either snooze them or sleep through them

- you always have cold water and chapstick near you when you’re napping/sleeping

- soooo delirious when you first wake up

- you prefer the room or wherever you’re having a nap to be cold

- not like freezing but under the temperature you’d usually have the house/apartment

- sleep focus? 🔛 no one is getting to you unless it’s an emergency

- you’ll text everyone who might try to reach you

- ‘i am having a nap, will not answer for anything cause i’ll be asleep 😌😌’

- matt has gifted toy essential oils or bath salts to help you sleep

- christmas morning with you SUCKS and you admit that. you hate waking up early

- matt will have to drag you out of the room

- all pissed at him and everyone else until you get your gifts or go back to sleep

- fall asleep during movie nights

- you can sleep anywhere and will

- the triplets will get home from somewhere and you’re just on the couch or sitting at their dining room table asleep

- if you don’t want up, matt will just pick you up and carry you to your room

- you’ve dropped your phone on your face before cause you fell asleep watching it

- you won’t admit it out loud . . . but you love asmr

- have a playlist of your favourites

- passenger princess, sleeper edition!

- has a headrest pillow you bought

- blanket ready to go and chair laid back if no one’s behind it

- matt draws shapes on your back

- will nap with best friends

- talk and talk and let everyone know how much you love naps

[moonstruckme]

Hello love, I just found your blog and I must say that I adore your writing!! I’ve been looking for some new marauder content and couldn’t be happier with what I have come across here! 🫶🏼🩷

Can I request a counterpart to Dizzy? Where the reader comes home super tipsy and roommate James has to deal with their affection and sloppy behavior :)) I think that might be a fun change of perspective for those two.

If not, no worries! Thank you for your amazing work 🥹 take care 🫶🏼

Hi gorgeous, thanks so much! Apologies for the wait, this got a bit long haha. Hope you like it <3

cw: drunkenness

roommate!James x fem!reader ♡ 2.2k words

James hears the front door open and close, a painful sounding series of thumps, and not much after that. 

He sets down his late-night snack of melon he’s been sneakily eating from the bowl you’d cut it up in earlier, leaving his fork sticking out of a piece. “Hello?” 

Your reply is quiet, barely echoing down the hallway to reach him. “James?” 

He gets up and goes toward the door. You’re slumped against it, cast half in shadow from the lamplight that filters through the window to fall upon one side of your face, brows bunched as you toy clumsily with your shoelace. You look up at his approach, and your expression clears. 

“James!”

James smiles; he can’t help it.

“Hi,” he says, with nearly as much enthusiasm. “Did you have fun tonight, sweetheart?” 

You nod happily. “I brought you something.” 

He feels his eyebrows raise. “Something for me?” 

“Mhm.” You twist onto your side, mouth screwing up concentratedly as you lift your bum to fish around in your back pocket. “Here!” You pull out a squished mars bar, looking rather pleased with yourself. “Those are your favorite, right?” 

“They are,” he agrees, taking it from you, “thanks. Where’d you get this?” 

“A man was giving them out on the street.”

James blinks. “Just giving them away?” 

“I know, very suspicious.” You nod sagely. “But I already had mine, and it wasn’t laced with cocaine or anything, so I figure it’s fine.” 

Right, then. James will just have to check on you in the morning to make sure you’re still breathing. 

“Well, thank you for the gift,” he says, and is rewarded with your gargantuan grin. 

“I’m glad you like it,” you reply, eyes full of an earnestness so sweet it makes James’ chest hurt. “I never get to do anything for you, and you’re so nice to me.” 

“You do tons of stuff for me,” he scoffs, but you look prepared to argue, and he doesn’t want that. He gives your shoulder a friendly squeeze. “Hey, wanna get some water?” 

You go quiet, considering this. “Can I have it on the floor?” 

James laughs. “You want to drink your water sitting on the floor?” 

You smile like you don’t quite understand what’s so funny but are happy to go along with it anyway. “The floor is good,” you say, as though it’s a simple fact of life. 

“Alright.” James weaves his arm under yours, hoisting you up. “Sure, sweetheart, you can have it on the floor.” 

He all but carries you into the kitchen, your feet barely touching the floor as they stumble inelegantly over each other and your one undone shoelace. You make a small sound as he eases you down on the floor next to the fridge, looking decidedly worse than you had over by the door. 

“Do you feel okay?” he asks, keeping a wary eye on you as he fills a cup from the tap. 

You hum noncommittally, waving him off. “Don’t worry about me.” 

“Sorry, you can’t stop me,” he replies teasingly, crouching in front of you to pass you the water. He can’t stop himself. “Do you think you’re going to be sick?” 

You make a face, mouth twisting in disgust. “God, I hope not.” 

A nervous laugh escapes him. “Okay well, uh—here.” James grabs a nearly empty bread bag from the counter, taking the last two slices out and setting them on top of the toaster. He passes it to you. “Just in case you do.” 

You give him a soft look, as if he hasn’t just handed you a vomit bag. “Thanks, Jamie.” 

His heart sputters. You never call him that, and certainly never while looking at him the way you are now. He has the sudden urge to squish your face between his hands. 

“Course,” he says quickly, looking down and getting to work on the shoelaces that were giving you trouble earlier. You’d double-knotted them and evidently forgotten. The action of prying the knot apart feels good, giving his body something productive to do. 

For a while, you only drink your water quietly. James disentangles the laces and slips your shoes off, setting them next to each other on the floor. You put your feet in his lap, and he lets you. When you gasp, he looks up, alarmed. 

“What?” 

“James.” Your eyes are wide and glossy. “James, I just remembered the most wonderful thing.” 

His heart calms slightly. “What’s that, love?” 

“I cut up cantaloupe earlier. We should eat it!”

James grins, taking your ankles to move them out of his lap. “Great idea. I’ve got you, sweetheart.” He stands, ignoring your confused puppy sound at his leaving. 

Your eyes light up when he returns a moment later, bowl of melon in hand. 

“Oh my god, you’re the best,” you gush, reaching for the fork he passes you from the drawer. “Where were you hiding this?” 

“In my room,” he admits, sitting beside you. “I know you don’t like it when I eat right out of the bowl, sorry.” 

“Oh, I don’t mind so much anymore,” you wave him off, forking a chunk of melon and taking a bite out of it. “That was a new-roommate thing. I didn’t want your spit in my food, you could’ve had herpes.” 

A laugh startles out of him. “Did you think I had herpes?” 

“I didn’t know!” you defend yourself, and it’s ridiculous how endearing he finds it that you’re comfortable enough to talk with your mouth full around him. “You’re a very pretty man, James Potter. For all I knew, you had a steady rotation coming in and out of your room whenever I wasn’t home.” 

James guffaws, bumping your shoulder with his reprimandingly. “Wow, thanks for that. At least you think I’m pretty.” 

“Just the truth,” you say into your cup, voice somewhat quieter than before. 

He looks over, and you’ve gone a bit bashful, shoulders pulling up towards your ears as you down the last of your water. James thinks that he’s lucky you aren’t like this often. It’d be very hard to keep things platonic between you if you were this sweet and open with him as a habit. 

“I wasn’t sure about you when you first moved in either,” he says to lighten things. “The first time I opened the cottage cheese and saw peaches inside, I almost moved out.” 

You turn to him with your mouth agape, hand coming up to grip his bicep in offense. (He presumes he’s supposed to be intimidated, but all he can think about is how you never touch him like this, usually. It’s nice.) “You said it was good when I made you try it!” you accuse. “You liked it!” 

“It was okay,” he allows laughingly, letting himself cover your hand with his under the pretense of loosening your grip. “It was just off-putting at first. That was a lot of weird right out the gate, sweetheart. Sirius wanted me to call the police.” 

His plan backfires, and you drop your hand. Your chin, too, giving James a deadpan look through your lashes. “It’s not that weird. Tons of people do it.” 

“Sure, sure,” James says, patting your shoulder placatingly when you seem like you could argue more. “Feeling like you might be ready for bed?” You seem to have eaten your fill of melon. Your fork lies discarded in the bowl, swimming in juice. 

You deliberate for a moment before humming in affirmation. He stands first, taking both of your hands to help you up and marveling at the fact that you let him. When he turns to walk towards your room and you link your arm through his, he begins to worry he’s dreaming this whole thing. 

“James,” you whisper up towards his ear. “Jamie-Jame. I have a secret to tell you.” 

Definitely dreaming, then. A secret? He wonders what you could have thought of to tell him at this hour, in the state you’re in. Surely a good friend wouldn’t let you spill your guts when you’re this out of sorts. It could be something serious. Anything you’re not willing to share sober, he shouldn’t want to hear.

“What is it?” he asks, hating himself. 

“I’m not going to take off my makeup before bed.” 

A giggle bubbles out of him, so ridiculous he’s glad you’re not in your right mind to hear it. “Wow. Dire measures, huh?” 

You nod somberly. “I’m gonna be so upset with myself tomorrow. I’m gonna wake up with crusty-eye and a million new zits, but I just want to go to sleep so bad, you know?” 

“Mm, I think I see where you’re coming from.” James tries to sound like he’s giving it due consideration while he sets you down on your bed. You scoot back to the side, making room for him to sit beside you. He does. (Who is he to refuse an invitation like that?) “Yeah, you’ve just gotta prioritize comfort sometimes. You’ll make it up to yourself, I’m sure.” 

You level him with what seems to be your best approximation of a stern look. It makes you look extremely cuddly. “You can’t hold it against me when you see my skin tomorrow, James. It’s going to be atrocious.” 

He has to bite his lip to match your seriousness. “I guarantee I will not mind. In all the time I’ve known you, you’ve never not looked lovely.” 

“Oh, you wouldn’t get it.” You flop back onto your pillow, disconsolate. “You’ve probably never had a zit in your life.” 

“Actually, I went through a fairly bad stint in year eight—”

“That’s not fair,” you groan. 

He smiles at you patiently. “What’s not fair, sweetheart?” 

“You’re not fair.” You gesture vaguely in his direction as if to make your point. “You haven’t gotten zits since eighth year, first of all. Then on top of that, you smell nice. And you have really long eyelashes, which no boy should ever have. There’s no way you appreciate them as much as they deserve. And you call me sweetheart—what’s up with that?” James blinks, but you’re not done. “And you’re way too nice to me! It doesn’t make any sense.” 

“Right,” James says, considering. “So all I have to do is start getting zits, stop showering, and…trim my eyelashes, and then you’ll be satisfied? Justice will be restored?” 

Your lips curve, and you nod magnanimously. “Yes, please. Straightaway.” 

“Cruel.” He sets a hand on your knee, giving your leg a teasing little shake. “Should I stop calling you sweetheart as well, then?” 

You go shy again, looking just to the side of his face as a faint blush colors your cheeks. “No, that’s okay.” 

James has to bite the inside of his cheek to tamp down the full force of his smile. “Okay. Alright if I continue being nice to you as well? I’d feel like a bit of a prick if I stopped.” 

You give it a few moment’s consideration. “Fine,” you say, as if this is a large allowance and he really is on thin ice. James lets loose his smile. You copy him, your own grin lopsided and goofy. “Hey, can I ask you something?” 

“Anything.” 

“Can I have a hug?” 

“Oh, sweetheart.” The word tumbles out of his mouth before he can stop it, warm fondness oozing from every syllable. “Of course, come here.” 

Despite his own words, he goes to you, crushing you to his chest with perhaps a touch too much eagerness. You don’t seem to notice, drooping against him with your arms banded around his middle. He thinks he hears you breathe in. 

“Still feeling okay?” he asks gently, rubbing your back. You hum. “Ready to go to sleep?” 

“Not if you’re going to leave.” Your voice is muffled against the fabric of his pajama shirt. The skin beneath grows warm from your breath. “I like you so much, Jamie. You’re so nice to me, you know?” 

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned that.” He smiles to himself, palm sweeping over the bare skin of your upper back and the material of your dress. He wonders if you’ll regret having slept in it in the morning. He can’t stand the thought of wearing outside clothes in bed. Oddly, he doesn’t know if you’re the same. “I can stay for a bit, if you want.” 

“I like you, like, so much it’s a problem,” you go on as if he hasn’t spoken. You sound mildly upset. “You have no idea.”

Something tense and tentatively happy twists in James’ gut. It takes more effort than it should to keep breathing, keep rubbing your back. “I can stay, but you have to go to sleep, okay?” 

You ease out of his embrace to look up at him. Your eyes are somewhat focussed, but watery. “James, I like you so much.” 

“Let’s talk about it in the morning,” he says softly, heart a hard-to-ignore, thundering thing in his chest. “Let’s just sleep for now, okay?” 

“Okay.” You look reluctant but nod, laying back against your pillow. “Thanks.” 

James doesn’t know what you’re thanking him for. He’s not sure he deserves it. “Go to sleep, sweetheart.” 

“I’m going, I’m going,” you grumble, but reach up for his hand. He gives it to you, and you haul it to your chest with surprising strength, sending James slumping forward until he’s nearly lying down beside you. “Sorry,” you say drowsily. Then, after some thought, “Actually, no I’m not.” 

James laughs. He’s happy to know you, he thinks. You’re kind and funny and thoughtful, and apparently very talkative when you’re drunk. He likes you too. Loves you, maybe. He’ll think about it tomorrow.

[tokiwarcube]

Can we get a scenario or headcanons of maybe Toki and reader washing each others hair? Maybe after sex sweetness? I don’t know but feel like while Toki loves having his hair played with he also super loves playing with a partners hair especially if it’s long like his. I don’t know to me he’s the boyfriend to follow you in the shower whether it involves sex or not lol. I love your writing and have been binging your blog so when you reblogged me earlier I felt like screaming lol!

WAAA, thank you so much my love!! 🐇🤍🐇 You're so sweet -- thank you for the kind words, and the reblogs! (That Pickles interview was such a cool find by the way, holy!)

And we 100% share the same mind on this, haha -- he's so tactile, I feel like he would delight in having you rest on his chest, running his hands through your hair while he yammers on about anything and everything. And he is ABSOLUTELY the type to follow you into the shower, even if it's just to hold you... although he's not complaining if it turns into more.

I had an absolute blast writing this up, gave me all sorts of soft and fuzzy feelings -- thank you for the lovely request! Short and sweet, below the cut. Enjoy! <3

Warm water licks at your sore muscles, almost — but not quite — as tender as the strong hands that scratch gently at your scalp. You hum, content, as you press just a bit further into the arms of your lover, grateful for the large bathtub your paychecks provide. His heart beats slowly beneath your ear, lulling you further into a calm with every breath.

“Ams you going to fall asleep like this?” His voice is low, reverberating pleasantly with how close you’re pressed to him. Your lips upturn, humming again as you drag the blunt of your nails up his sides.

“Maybe.”

His chest shakes with restrained laughter. “It amnst safe to sleep in the bath, you know.”

“I trust you to keep me safe,” you smile, peeling your eyes open to look up at him. And it’s an obvious joke, but deep down, you really do. Not just now in the ever-so-perilous 2 feet of water, but always. Those pretty blue eyes gaze down at you with such a softness, such deeply-rooted adoration, that you think he’d sooner burn the world thrice over before letting anything happen to you.

“And it’s not my fault you’re being so nice.”

His lips upturn further, this time more mischievously.

“Oh?” The hand not tangled in your hair moves from its spot on your waist up further, digits resting coolly over one of the many, many marks he’s left in his wake tonight. “Ams you asking me to be mean?”

You whine out a half-hearted “no,” drawing out your vowels as you hide your face back in his chest. He laughs, moving his hand back to it’s position around your waist and resumes the gentle massage against your scalp. “That’s what I thought.”

It’s quiet for a few moments more as he works the product through your hair, finally carding his hands through your hair to coat the ends of your strands, before gently rinsing it out. You crack your eyes for a moment, spying the plastic Hello Kitty cup in his grip, neon corpsepaint scribbled onto her little face in rainbow sharpie, and smile softly to yourself. That’s your Toki.

He toys with the strands as the conditioner is finally rinsed from your hair, memorizing the feel of you with his hands. It’s only once he places a soft kiss to the top of your head that you muster up the strength to pull yourself up from his hold. You grasp his face in your hands, squishing his cheeks to form a pout, and place a kiss onto his lips yourself.

“C’mere, it’s your turn.”

[wisteriaiswriting]

Hey how's it going? You could do Brim, Harbor, Chamber, Iso , Yoru and Phoenix with male cat radiant (can be with gn) And I saw the first one you made and I loved it.

Agents With Male Cat Radiant

Words: 720

Old man and the cat he didn’t want (Absolutely loves and want’s you.)

Kinda over-buys toys, scratching posts and beds. (There are so many things in every room of the base.)

Speaking of, he’ll sit at his desk for hours using a laser pointer for you.

Keeps all the bells and louder toys away from his office and bedroom, letting you annoy the other agents with those.

His pet names aren’t that bad really; Handsome, Tiger (Or any big cat) and hairball. (When he’s annoyed with you.)

Keeps you away from his paperwork and anything else important in the office.

Has a folder full of you doing practically everything, which are filmed how you expect them to be. (Ranging from you just existing to you messing around with some toys.)

Isn’t the best at petting you, it’s rough but also gentle in a way. (He does get better though, don’t worry.)

This guy holds you in every way imaginable. (Holding you under your arms, in his arms etc.)

Another one to buy too many things, he’ll try to clean them up but ultimately you’ll just do it again.

Doesn’t have too many pet names, but has some; बिल्ली का बच्चा (Kitten), Ball of energy.

He just melts whenever he hears you purr.

You better hope you can handle baths, otherwise he’ll make it easy on the both of you and drops a ton of water on you. (Feels bad after and will coddle you.)

Also doesn’t care if you take up all the space on his bed, but if he’s that tired he’ll move you onto his chest.

While he loves you, please just stay away from his clothes. (Has a specific pair that he’s willing to get covered in your hair/fur.)

Chaton, boule de poils, beau gosse.

He still enjoys teasing you about anything; “You’ve made quite a mess, Chaton.” While actively using a lazer pointer to make you cause more chaos.

Only pays for the best items for you, and will not settle for anything less. (Is willing to get custom made ones.)

Tries to keep you away from the smaller parts of hiss guns, doesn’t want you to get hurt or lose something.

Commissions a collar for you? (Jk jk, unless?)

He’s not joking, buys the highest quality (But comfortable) one he can get.

Won't buy any toys / entertainment, but will lend you the money if you want anything.

亲爱的 (dear), 成套设备 (kit)

Can sit there for hours squishing your hand / paw beans, even messing with your claws.

If you have hair / fur, he’ll sit there and mess with it. Ruffle it, smooth it out, trys to braid some part of it.

Sometimes you’re not sure who’s the actual cat here, sure you are actually one, but he sure acts like it.

If you’re asleep on his bed / in his room, he’ll work around you, especially if you returned from a mission.

Makes sure you’re rarely hungry, leaves your favourite food in the pantry, and takes you out whenever.

Secret cat lover (Rather cats over dogs any day.)

Can sit for hours either watching or teasing you with anything he can get his hands on. (With his abilities there's a lot he can get.)

ベイブ (babe), ベイビー (baby), overgrown hairball

Is always down to play fight with you, scowling at the scratches you leave. (Isn’t that made though.)

Such an asshole as he uses his abilities to (lightly) tug on your tail, ears or hair then disappear.

Will wake you up if you’re in his way on his bed, isn’t afraid too.

Quietly jokes about getting you matching accessories, and he doesn’t mean gloves. (For you at least.)

He is so in love!!

Will spend all his money on anything and everything for you.

He’ll unironically take you to some cat cafes too, and I quote, ‘Go visit your fam!’

While he absolutely loves you, please stay away from his jackets, he doesn’t want any scratches on them.

Same goes for his shoes, but he’s def willing to buy more. (Gets matching pairs while he’s at it.)

God, some of his pet names are so cringy, but he’ll never stop; Kitten/kitty, baby, beautiful.

Tries to be nice about it but will kinda push you off if your claws dig into him, doesn’t enjoy the pain.

[vampiretendencies]

Hiii babes this my first time ever requesting anything for anyone but could you do a JJ Maybank headcannon of dating him (I love those) or a blurb of when he comes back from surfing and cuddles the reader? I love ya!

IDCNTLIKEDARNESS MILESTONE EVENT ★

pairing; jj maybank x fem!reader

warnings; fluff, suggestive

authors note; i’m going to do both !! i just can’t resist and i feel like both of your ideas would complement this event well. thank you for trusting me with your first request.

masterlist — jj maybank masterlist

JJ nearly washed up with the shore, waves tumbling off of the backs of his ankles.

Board shorts sticking to his flesh, accentuating his tanned, sinewy thighs. The sun accentuated it’s rays, on the shore— perfect for the ‘tan’ you were supposed to be getting. Really though, it was a mere excuse to see JJ surf, anything that brought the slightest quirk to his features always brought you to the most vivid state of joy in turn.

And the view, no, not the orange and pink hue painted sky but the one that is approaching you. The one that’s abs are evenly carved into the muscles of his stomach, with slick blonde tresses that are laced with water whilst a sloppy smile is plastered on his face at the sight of you. You however, had a scrunched nose and a skimpy bathing suit that was currently riding up— you’d admit it was only to fluster JJ, which always worked.

“Couldn’t take it any longer, I was having withdrawals.”

His breathless figure, throws his cherry rouge surf board down beside you. Taking your near naked figure in on such a dainty towel, and his crystal orbs nearly bulge out of his skull.

“From what?”

Clueless, JJ kicks sand as he’s making his way around you. Body towering over yours— his standing stature overlaps yours, legs separated whilst his feet were on either side of you. And the last thing you were expecting was for him to sit directly on top of your legs— a cushion for what he was really after.

“Your ass,” he toys with the material of your bathing suit, poking and prodding the flesh with grabby hands. Nearly kneading it in a way, as if his calloused fingertips were meant to do so.

With a scoff, you reach your arm back to swat his hand away. As it was a public place, but by any means necessary JJ doesn’t give a fuck. “Just my ass?”

“Maybe you … just a little baby,” he half-joked. Humming to himself, the intenseness of the waves he surfed began to catch up to him more rapidly than he would’ve liked.

“Mhm.”

You hummed, the weight of JJ then shifts— losing the feeling in your legs from your lover having placed his full weight there. Though that was petty to what he does now, he encapsulates you— lying his stomach against your back, allowing the rest of his limbs to mimic yours. Lying directly on top of you, air knocked from your lungs. Sinking in with the grains of sand.

“Need a cuddle, pretty girl.”

His head rests on the back of your shoulder, skin that was once dry is now soaked— but you couldn’t seem to complain about that, only the crushing limbs atop yours. He places loose, lingering pecks to the back of your neck, every one more leisurely with the more exhausted he grew.

“You’re squishing me J.”

The shush he gave you, rippled through your skin, having left his lips in the open space. Hooded eyes, falling low, trying to stay awake even in the slightest.

“Squishin’ you with love” he mumbled, babbling almost— as he can’t make out words. “Givin’ you all my love, baby.”

[flowercrowncrip]

My mom fills socks with rice and heats them up in the microwave.

Needs someone else to do that part but it’s really nice like a hot water bottle but different.

You can also buy pre-made things that have similar functionality that might be easier to use that are either weighted or unweighted.

Small electric heating pad is lovely has buttons I can turn on and off on my own and the size is maybe 1 square foot easier to use. My partner and I each have one in different colors.

Also a fan of those things that go in the freezer like ice packs but they have oorbeez like gel balls inside fun to squish and temperature sensation is fun but you have to be careful with it.

One of my legs and some other parts of my body can’t feel temperature much because of nerve damage etc and i can get hurt if not careful when using so it’s important to be able to push it off onto floor when done with ice pack like item or turn it off if using electric item.

My partner also bought me a vibrating chewy stim toy meant for oral desensitizing because I have sensory issues brushing teeth throw up sometimes because my gag reflex, it might be made by ark therapeutic maybe and I like chewing on it. I have jaw issues like TMJ so I have to be careful not to hurt myself but I often chew through soft rated toys and get pain from hard ones so I like that this toy has a swappable top so I can keep switching on new soft ones to use with the same vibrating base.

When I was little maybe elementary school I did occupational therapy but don’t remember much of it. Do remember being brushed and going into a stretchy sack. Hope that helps.

This is all really helpful thank you!

[xbeezchaos]

BPD! Scaramouche pt.4

Agere Scara X Caretaker Reader!!!

Before we go into the fun part. Here’s a little breakdown of BPD and agere for those who may not understand/know.

A common trait of bpd that isn’t on the list of requirements for diagnosis is age regression! It’s a coping skill in which the person regresses back to a younger mindset to escape problems that feel too big for them. This can help with inner child healing, anxiety, depression etc. it’s completely healthy and non sexual.

Now. The regressor can range from ages of a small infant to young kid. It’s all dependent on how comfortable that person feels and where their mind naturally falls when they enter said headspace. For someone with bpd. This can be a great way to handle our emotions. Our emotions switch often, and are way too big for our bodies with how extreme these emotions can feel.

There’s also another aspect. Caretaking. A caretaker is someone who looks after a regressor in which they’ll take on a “mommy” or “daddy” role. Nicknames can range variously depending on what the caretaker and regressor like and agree upon. It can be someone who you’re dating or just friends with.

Notes: pacifier, sippy cups, crying, meltdowns are all going to be included. Along with extra fluffy content and comfort. Now enjoy!!!

You’ve been scaras partner and caretaker for a long time. About 3 years now.

He made sure it was one of the first things he mentioned to you when getting to know each other when you first started testing the waters of your relationship

Ironically you’d been interested in caretaking and had tried it out a few times in the past. But never had someone who was your little.

It took a while for him to open up, but he was the sweetest (and most times brattiest) little you’d ever met.

Very opposite of his normal sarcastic, and domineering attitude, when he regresses he’s the shyest little boy ever.

His age range is 3-4 years old.

He likes plushies, pacis, sensory toys, and soft blankets.

He has a favorite comfort movie he makes you watch with him.

He really likes to be picked up and wrap his legs around your waist. He’ll cling onto you for hours if he can. And you’ll let him.

“Bubba I wan uppies! Pick me up!”

“I want my sippy please!”

Likes to spin around and dance even when there’s no music playing

Loves repeating nursery rhymes and gets excited when you sing with him

Short attention span and cranky attitude when he needs a nap

Can only sleep while holding onto you or your hand

Hates the dark. Has to have a nightlight, LED lights, a tv or something else that radiates light when the overhead lights are turned off

Loves letting you dress him up. You always pick the best outfits and you’re so gentle when helping him change.

He gives the biggest and nicest hugs ever.

Is super cuddly and clingy. And will side eye anyone who tries talking to you or taking your attention away when he’s resting on you.

“Bun. It’s ok, it’s just the adults talking that’s all.” You rub his back trying to soothe his obvious annoyance but to no avail

He glared at the person you’re talking to, clinging onto you tighter and starts angry babbling

“Mine bubba, go away! Bubba mine. Miiiiinnnneeeee.”

“Yes yours, Bun. Now let’s relax ok?” You kiss the top of his head, and it takes a while and having to force the other person leave but he soon melts back into your arms.

He loves it when you hold his face and squish it. Telling him he’s a good boy and how much you love him

His entire face lights up, normally dull violet eyes not filled with an adorable sparkle of happiness and light you wished would last forever.

His euphoric episode crashes were the most often time he’d need to regress. But other times it could be simply when he’s too stressed and need to feel like he’s not all alone.

Splitting can still happen when he’s little. But he tends to come down from a bad split crying out apologies of how he never meant to hurt his bubba.

To him, you’re his entire life saver at times. You help him when he feels so out of control. And you guide him back to it without even realizing. All it can take is a simple “I’m here, bun. It’s ok.” And everything stops hurting so bad after a while. He can feel at peace with you for the first time in his entire life.

He’s lived a long time without having safety be a feeling he could ever have. He lives you and cherishes you for every minute of that he gets with you and tries his best to return that to you always.

Im so tired and haven’t proof read anything. But honestly I rarely ever do so. Yes. Anyways I hope you guys like this I’ve poured out every thought I could into this and please let me know if you want more!!!

[everygame]

Icicle Works (Commodore Plus/4)

Developed/Published by: Doug Turner / Commodore Released: 1985 Completed: n/a Completion: Completed a few toys, but lost in Santa’s snowy labyrinth…

Working my way through Christmas games in an (as near as records allow) chronological fashion has been a bit of a challenge this year! We’ve had some highs for sure (discovering Hanan Samara) but some absurd lows (all of Christmas Crackers.) I think next year I’m going to actually have to do some proper legwork and try and sort out what was actually released for (at least) the BBC Micro and ZX Spectrum that can be classed as a commercially released Christmas game to make me feel satisfied I’m doing my due diligence. I’m aware that literally no one cares about this, but apparently it’s just what my brain does, and there are too many Christmas themed type-ins, and World of Spectrum doesn’t let you search by theme, so it’s going to take some time.

In lieu of doing that though, onward with the next game I can confirm as Christmassy; Doug Turner’s Icicle Works for Commodore’s generally unloved Plus/4.

The Plus/4 is a weird machine. I’m not sure there’s been a bit of industrial design in home computers that looks as much like it should be on a spaceship that an Alien is murdering the crew on (this is a good thing) but it’s got that bizarre problem that so many hardware manufacturers made then–it’s a Commodore, but it’s not compatible with the C64 at all nor a meaningful upgrade to it, so… why buy it? And more than that… why make games for it?

Few people did, and that’s probably why Icicle Works is so well remembered in the machine’s surprisingly… existing community (it turns out it was popular in Hungary.) You play as Santa, who has come back from holiday and (I assume) discovered that his workshop has exploded, leaving parts of presents scattered around in the snow, requiring him to dig through it all while avoiding enraged penguins, polar bears and ice water.

It’s very much a Boulder Dash clone, which makes it quite strange that it’s called “Icicle Works” considering there aren’t any icicles in it. It’s actually named after the band, who are probably best known for the single Birds Fly (Whisper to a Scream) which… I might have heard before? It was used in Stranger Things, actually, so I’ve definitely heard it, although I absolutely couldn’t have named the band until I researched this. They were named for a Frederik Poh short story, “The Day the Icicle Works Closed” and I must say I think that if Turner was going to take inspiration, he should have looked at that instead and gone for “The Day Santa’s Workshop Exploded.”

Anyway. Boulder Dash is one of those game designs that it sort of feels like you couldn’t escape at one point but which no one even thinks about now–although they’re still making them–and interestingly it’s actually not a series I have much familiarity with. I don’t think I even played Repton on the BBC Micro or anything.

If you’re unfamiliar with Boulder Dash, it follows on from the likes of Dig Dug or Mr. Do by heavily featuring the mechanic of rocks falling down the screen, but for some reason it’s the one I most fixate on the odd perspective of. Are you viewing the action side-on? Or is it top-down and we accept that rocks fall because the screen is vertical? Notably in Repton the ritual character does a weird sort of monkey climb when going up and down, but in Boulder Dash it sort of looks more like it’s top-down. Dig Dug was definitely side-on, and Taizo Hori did always walk on a wall no matter what direction he was moving, so that one almost made sense.

Er… this is getting away from me, here. All that actually matters is that in Boulder Dash you’re playing through levels trying to collect all of the diamonds without being squished by falling rocks or other hazards, hazards that you generally create by your own digging.

Icicle Works, which I think is definitely top down even if that doesn’t exactly make sense (you're actually on... a mountainside! that's it) expands this design into a sixteen level map. On each multi-screen level you have to collect all of the presents and then you’re able to select one of the doors to go to another level, but it’s completely non-linear–you can go from level 1 to level 6, and and even go back to level 1 (where the level will stay completed for you.) It’s a bit like Ancipital, if less idiosyncratically inventive.

What it is, though, is unbelievably fucking hard. So hard that it’s really quite beyond me, and feels like a game for serious Boulder Dash players. From basically the second level Icicle Works requires pro Boulder Dash strategies: in certain screens, you need to go as fast as possible to avoid being trapped by flowing water. In others, you need to drop snowballs in exactly the right place to make a path or to kill enemies to complete it. You can’t see the entire level you’re on and you start with just three lives, so to even start to learn the game you’ll need to play it from the start over and over–and there’s a harsh time limit on every screen, and most screens require you pick up so many presents you really have to be playing almost a perfect racers line.

 Yes, Icicle Works is a “pressure puzzle” if not a “pressure puzzle platformer” and it’s… aggressive. I’d be surprised it’s so fondly remembered but for the fact that the Plus/4 had almost no games, and even saying that it’s so brutal that I’m impressed anyone stuck with it. It does play well enough–it’s tile-based movement, but it’s snappy, and I honestly did play this for quite a while before giving up in, honestly, frustration. With a map and save states, I’d say that if you really love Boulder Dash-style games this would be well worth playing, but it doesn’t have an ending, which means you’ll be stuck with only your sense of satisfaction for having beaten it, and you’ll have used a map and save states, so you might not be that satisfied to be honest.

Icicle Works’ biggest flaw for me though is that it doesn’t really feel that Christmassy! Sure, you’re playing a wee pixelated Santa, but the music is jaunty in a really non-festive fashion, and the name Icicle Works is just wrong. This is a perfectly fine game for the era (and the machine) but I think I’d probably like it more if it actually was called “The Day Santa’s Workshop Exploded.”

Will I ever play it again? I really copped out on this one because it’s so bloody hard; I just wasn’t really enjoying working out the puzzle of each level because, as I’ve described, I don’t like puzzles under pressure. So no.

Final Thought: Something I find really charming is that over 30 years later in 2020 Doug Turner would release an official “sequel” of sorts to this and his other game, Prospector Pete, only on the bloody Plus/4 again! So I suspect if you really want to play a Plus/4 Boulder Dash-me-do you’re better off with The Pit.

Sadly, Doug Turner passed away in 2022, just a couple of years after releasing it–it seems he was a beloved and active member of the Plus/4 community, and took great pleasure that people were still interested and playing his games.So RIP, Doug, thanks for Icicle Works… even if it is too bloody hard.

Every Game I’ve Finished 14>24 is OUT NOW! You can pick it up in paperback, kindle, or epub/pdf. You can also support Every Game I’ve Finished on ko-fi! You can pick up digital copies of exp., a zine featuring all-exclusive writing at my shop, or join as a supporter at just $1 a month and get articles like this a week early.

[oftlunarialmoon]

3 Ways to Prevent or Ease Out of a Panic Attack - REAL TALK

Originally posted to www.onlyfunthings.org on March 19, 2018

Ciao lovelies! Today’s post is mental health centered- 3 Ways to prevent/ease out of a panic attack.

DISCLAIMER- I am not a mental health professional. These tips come from my own personal experiences with anxiety and panic attacks. If you have frequent panic/anxiety attacks, please seek help from a mental health professional.

That being said, let’s get into the tips.

#1- Stimming!

I find stim items to be especially helpful in avoiding/getting out of a panic attack. If I can distract myself with a stim item, I can sometimes stop from panicking altogether. Some of my favorite stimming items for this purpose are:

-          Slime. I find that watching the slime slowly moving around in my hand or stretching the slime is relaxing. Plus the coldness of the slime on my hands helps perk me up and out of bad head spaces.

-          Squishies. Sometimes you just really need to squeeze something to stabilize yourself or just to get out anger or anxiety. Squishes are great for that, plus they’re trendy right now so you can find them just about everywhere.

-          Chewing Necklace/jewelry. I used to bite my nails a lot when I was stressed out, but that’s not good for your health or nails. Plus I used to bite down to the painful nerves when I was having panic attacks, which led to pain and discomfort. Chewing jewelry is more accessible now than ever before, and is great for stopping self-harm and nail biting due to anxiety. You can find chewable jewelry here, https://www.stimtastic.co/stim-jewelry/?category=Chewy+Jewelry

For those unaware of what stimming is, please check THIS post. For more about my fave stim items, check THIS post.

#2- Grounding Exercises

When I have panic attacks, sometimes my main problem is my brain just stops being aware of where and when it is. One of the main ways to fix this is by using simple grounding techniques. Grounding is when you realign your brain back to reality. Some good grounding exercises are:

-          Have someone remind you (or remind yourself, if you’re able) WHERE you are, what year is it (WHEN), and WHO you are.

-          Pick something around you and describe it. Describe how it looks, smells, feels, and, if it’s safe, like food, how it tastes.

-          Run your hands under cold water to snap yourself back to reality.

#3- Distraction

The last way that I keep myself from having a panic attack is to distract myself. Often it’s with stim toys, as mentioned before, but sometimes I simply watch videos on youtube that are calming and gentle.

Some good YouTube Channels for distracting from a panic attack are:

RRCherryPie

MosoGourmet

MyFroggyStuff

TroomTroom

Remember to Stay Awesome and Love Yourself!

[phoenix-manga]

Little Cherubi, Where Are You Off To? Part 2

Summary: Having Ace and Deuce to look after Phoebe might become problematic with them juggling studies and babysitting. So, they decide to constantly switch babysitters so there would be no problems!

But… nothing is ever going to be easy in NRC.

[Story Under the Cut]

Bringing back Phoebe as a Cherubi was… a shocker to the Pokémon in Ramshackle dorm to say the least. It took quite a bit of convincing from Furret and Grimm to get the others to settle down.

Of course, her scent still stayed the same even as a Pokémon so it was a huge factor in convincing the Pokémon.

Phoebe was now sitting on the couch with Audino’s ears prodding at her little body to check on any problems. Grimm and Furret sat on the couch with her as they laid down in exhaustion.

When she found nothing wrong, she simply pats Phoebe on the head with her little paws and heads to the kitchen to make her some tea.

“There seems to be nothing wrong with you, I’ll get you some tea in the meantime” Audino’s voice was gentle and sweet.

It was really surreal to hear her Pokémon talk and with variety of voices. Of course, those who are big in size obviously have deep and rough sounding voices while the little ones have a smaller and rather high-pitched voice.

There were also the water types who sound… incomprehensible when on land but sound so clear in water.

Audino comes back with tea and Indeedee followed suit with a tier stand full of fruit and candy. Grimm perks up at the sight of tasty snacks and he began to munch on a couple of candies while Furret helps Audino tip the teacup for Phoebe.

“I never thought how hard it was to not have hands… I think I might just feel bad for Pokémon who don’t have them…”

She sighed as she gulped down the tea to relax her nerves and laid down on a soft pillow. Her eyes felt droopy and she could feel herself going off to dreamland.

*SLAM!*

“Phoebe! Are you here?! If you don’t answer I’ll assume that a hawk ate you!”

“Deuce, hawks eat meat NOT fruit!”

Oh, for Arceus’ sake, she can’t get a single moment of peace in this world can she?

Rolling off the couch, she wobbled over to Ace and Deuce who looked disheveled from all the cleaning and possibly the running they did to get here.

“You two should relax! I couldn’t send you a message because Dexter flew off and even if I had that phone around, it’s not like I can type!

Anyway, don’t go nuts because I’m not going anywhere. Did anyone else see you running around like headless Torchics?”

“Uhh… funny that you mentioned “anyone else”…”

As soon as Deuce said that more footsteps were heard approaching the porch. Much to Phoebe’s surprise the rest of the first-year gang, excluding Sebek, came over looking just as frazzled as the other two.

“I heard that Phoebe was turned into a walking cherry!? Is she alright, I ain’t letting anyone’s big foot turn yah into mush-“

“Careful, Epel! She might be on the floor!”

“Sh*t! You’re right!”

Epel immediately got onto his knees and carefully crawled while his eyes scanned everywhere for the walking cherry.

The moment his baby blue eyes saw Phoebe, he darts towards her and held her in his arms as if he was a mother trying to keep her baby out of any danger.

“Thank the seven, you’re fine! Those two had me scared-”

For a moment, Epel took a good look at Phoebe’s form, and he experimentally squished the round face, and it was like a plush toy. Phoebe didn’t say anything because it felt like a massage to her.

He only ceased his actions when Jack called out to him about putting Phoebe down.

Jack on the other hand, he kept staring at those stubby little legs as Phoebe waddled around explaining to them what occurred in the laboratory and how unfortunately, she has to wait this out while Ace and Deuce have to look after her.

But that was going to be a challenge, because there was no guarantee as to when Phoebe would return to normal, plus the fact she has duties at Ramshackle and that most “human activities” would be impossible to do.

“I wouldn’t want to burden Ace and Deuce with their studies. Professor Crewel is definitely going to talk to Crowley about giving me a break but… you guys would get double the work and that doesn’t sit right with me…”

“*sniffle* Aww, Phoebe…”

Deuce looked-teary eyed at her concern for them.

Ace looked to the other two and had an idea.

“Say, how about we take turns looking after Pheebs, then?”

“EH?!”

“I mean, it’s much better than having to keep an eye on Phoebe in Heartslabyul all the time when we are busy following the rules… How about it?”

“I agree with Ace, plus I don’t cause any trouble… unlike a certain cat and red head… So, I promise I won’t be a bother!”

“Hey!”, “Funya!?”

Ace and Grimm looked at Phoebe, offended at the call out. But she simply ignored them and looked up to the other two.

Jack and Epel looked to each other and considered their options before nodding in agreement. It’s a sound plan, so they began to schedule out the time they need to look after Phoebe.

The next few days went like this; Ace and Deuce have Phoebe in the morning classes.

At PE, Epel would look after Phoebe since his PE is not the same as Ace and Deuce’s.

After class, Jack has no other duties unlike the Heartslabyul duo who have to take care of flamingoes and Epel with his “beauty” lessons.

So, he goes on a light jog with Phoebe riding in his backpack. He made sure his footwork wasn’t too rough and it was a smooth ride. Phoebe enjoyed feeling like she was tall.

And once the jog was done, he would take her back to Ramshackle, he even tucks her in.

It was a perfect plan that went alright for once.

Of course, other students soon found out about the beast tamer’s current predicament. The students have quite mixed reactions, others were curious and wanted to see what she looked like, they either were disappointed or would want to give her a hug.

Of course, gossip like this would reach the students that Phoebe knew personally.

In fact, during lunch time with Ace and Deuce, they met the senior Heartslabyul members.

“No way! Little Pheebs became this cute?”

Cater took out his phone and snapped away at Phoebe who was being hand fed sliced fruits by Deuce. Though Phoebe would have wanted something other than fruit, she doesn’t know if eating human food would affect her stomach.

And she is certainly NOT eating Pokémon food!

Riddle kept glancing at her from time to time, his cheek dusted pink from how adorable she was. Oh, how he just wants to put her in a little laced basket and bring her around.

“W-well, Ace and Deuce… As your dorm leader I hope you two make sure that there is not a scratch on Phoebe otherwise it’ll be off with your head, understood?”

“Yes sir!”

“Right…”

Ace rolled his eyes and didn’t find Riddle’s behavior strange. Ever since the overblot incident, he’s been a protective older brother to Phoebe ever since.

Trey just looked at the scenario with slight amusement. It was kind of ironic that he just so happens to have a little cherry tart behind him.

He was going to give it to the boys for their efforts in looking after Phoebe so far but… would it count as cannibalism if Phoebe ate it?

He’ll leave it in her room, when she turns back later.

When it was Epel’s turn to look after Phoebe, there was a certain huntsman who was quite intrigued by the rumors that involve the beast tamer of Ramshackle.

It was at the time when Epel was in his etiquette lessons with the other students that the hunter struck. Phoebe was placed in a very soft cushion by the wall as Epel struggles to memorize the several forks arranged in front of him.

Even when she was seated by the wall, other Pomefiore students who just happened to pass by couldn’t help but coo over her lovely shade of pink and those beady little eyes.

‘(He’s probably “thinking, why would you have so many forks anyway? Forks are for stabbing and that’s it”)’ Phoebe thinks to herself.

A shadow came to her left side and she felt huge hands carry her. She was face-to-face with the hunter himself. His expression made Phoebe wonder what on earth he was planning on doing.

Sure, he was constantly with a bow and almost shot arrows at her Pokémon once but that he didn’t really target them on purpose after that fiasco…

He wouldn’t try to make a cherry pie out of her, now would he?

“Tres bien! The lovely trickster tamer has turned into a pink cerise, how unfortunate yet… those golden little beady eyes express such exquisite innocence~! Oh, how Roi du Poison would show such interesting expressions if he were to see you right now, in fact-“

Without even notifying Epel, Rook whisked her away to Vil’s room. The dorm leader was facing his vanity mirror trying a new shade of makeup.

When Rook opens his door a bit too loud, the young man didn’t even flinch. Probably accustomed to the hunter’s antics to be even surprised at what he does.

“Roi du Poison, please gaze upon this wonderful being~! I’m sure you won’t be disappointed”

Vil didn’t respond as he continued to apply his eyeliner and blush to finish the entire look. When he was done, he finally put his attention to Rook as he held Phoebe towards him.

His handsome face studied her form, Phoebe felt like her entire soul was being judged with the way Vil kept a neutral face.

“H-hey, Vil…” Phoebe muttered.

“Oh? The little beetroot has become a cherry I’ve heard. I must say, this is a far cry from… what I envisioned you’d be”

Why did that feel like an insult? Or maybe because she is accustomed to his rather perfectionistic attitude that she expected him to say something like this in the back of her head.

Vil carefully plucked her off Rook’s hands and sat her on his vanity mirror. She had no idea what he was going to do when…

*Thump!*

*Spray, spray!*

He plops her down onto soft silk which wrapped around her stubby legs, then he sprayed some form of perfume on her. But it didn’t smell like the ones that overpower her sense of smell. It was a pleasant yet light scent that felt like she was in a lush forest with none of the smell of dirt.

Then Vil opened one of the drawers and took out a few lace ribbons then proceeds to tie a rather intricate knot on her stem.

Out of nowhere, he used his magic pen to conjure some colorful lavenders, pink roses and carnations to place around her.

Phoebe was still in a daze, wondering what the heck he was doing while not saying a word to her.

“Oh, how lovely~! Such a magnifique bouquet, Roi du Poison!”

“And the colors of the flowers only accentuate that shade of pink this little cherry has.”

“Huh?...”

Phoebe was unable to move due to the flowers and ribbons but from what she can guess, he decided to turn her into a little flower arrangement all of a sudden.

This kind of thing was alright with the baby Pokémon being covered in pillows and blankets but this just feels odd to her.

“Oh, forgive me. I couldn’t resist trying to accommodate your form into something beautiful. Truth be told, I have been trying my hand out on flower arrangement skills for my photo shoots.

The ones brought from the store simply didn’t cut it, so I wanted to make gorgeous bouquets to bring out the style I wear on set. Do forgive me for using you as a centerpiece”

“O-Oh! Uh… no harm done just… maybe warn me next time? And could you possibly get me back to the dining room? Epel probably doesn’t know I’m here…”

“Of course, in a moment. I need a good photo of you to post on my magicam to see if the arrangement was good enough to surpass my last one”

Vil took out his phone and proceeded to take a really long time getting the right photo. He had Rook take out lights from his closet to arrange them accordingly and even backdrops and curtains.

This guy was well-prepared and very dedicated to his career, if Phoebe had to say anything.

Finally, the exhausting photo shoot was done and Rook casually sauntered her over to Epel who was running around trying to find Phoebe. The country boy certainly didn’t appreciate his friend being kidnapped mid-lesson out of nowhere.

“What in tarnation are you thinkin?! Just snatchin’ up Pheebs like that and you run off like a weasel without even telling me!”

He gave the hunter a good verbal beat down that didn’t even faze Rook in the slightest.

Jack was at least menacing enough to keep the other guys from messing with her. But maybe there were some people who aren’t fazed by his snarl and bared fangs.

The guy didn’t even look apologetic! His grin just widened like a Cheshire cat before Epel took Phoebe from him and stomped away.

After that, she was now with Jack again.

One of those just so happens to be an eel with mood swings.

“LEECH! BRING HER BACK!”

“Ahahaha! No way, I wanna take her to Octavinelle and see if she fits in Jade’s terrarium. He told me to get cherry blossoms but there’s none! A cherry is good enough!”

Floyd has Phoebe in his arm as he bulldozed through the hallways with Jack hot on his trail. The damn twin managed to pluck her out of Jack’s makeshift sling while jogging through Main Street.

Luckily for Phoebe, Jack has sensitive ears and manages to dodge Floyd’s first attempt at swiping her. But then he proceeded to trip Jack by kicking the back of his knees and snatching little Phoebe off his sling and sped off.

The vertigo was making Phoebe ready to puke from all the parkour Floyd was doing to avoid Jack.

‘(Someone help me before I- urk! Before I vomit!)’

“Let go of my trainer you Huntail!”

All of a sudden, Floyd was knocked onto his knees by Furret and he unceremoniously flopped onto the floor with a huge thud.

Phoebe rolled a few feet away before she was picked up by black paws.

“Funya! Let’s get her away from this guy!”

It was Grimm and Furret! They must have heard what was happening and rushed over here.

Grimm grips Phoebe in his paws and runs as fast as his legs could carry him. Because Floyd got up and the look on his face was something that would stay in his mind and give him nightmares.

“Hey, did you just trip me…? Get back here… I’ll squeeze you…”

“Funya! Book it, Furret!”

Sweet Arceus, Phoebe felt chills as she saw the dilated pupils on Floyd’s eyes. This was not good. If only there was some way she could at least slow him down.

*THWICK! SNAP!*

Floyd was on the ground once more but only this time he seemed to be struggling to get one of his legs up from the floor. Phoebe looked back and noticed that there was a grass tied in a knot on his pant leg.

But Furret doesn’t know Grass Knot! Unless…

Did… She just managed to use Grass Knot?

That little trick of hers managed to give Jack enough time to wrestle Floyd to keep him on the floor. He held on tight to give Grimm and Furret to gain enough distance to lose Floyd.

Speaking of the eel, he was now tugging on Jack’s blazer trying to pry his muscled arms off him.

“You wanna get squeezed too, Sea Urchin? I’ll gladly do it with everything I got…”

“Run! I got him! Ow! Don’t worry about me!”

The two made a beeline for the alchemy lab, hoping that Professor Crewel would keep that crazy eel out.

Just as Grim made a sharp turn, he bumps into a familiar dragon fae that was walking in the empty hallway in the far end of the campus.

“Oh? What a strange sight this is… Hmm? A cherry?”

Phoebe looked up to see a familiar face… and horns.

“Charizard Guy! It's me, Phoebe!”

Malleus looked at the little cherry hopping towards him. Using magic, he floated the little one to his face, and his green eyes widened when he saw those amber orbs staring into his own.

This was Phoebe, his child of man!

“This is… certainly a surprise…”

They would have explained what happened to him when they heard Floyd approaching fast.

“Funya! No time to explain! You gotta hold him off so we can make it to the professor to get my henchman back to normal!”

“I see… in that case”

Malleus snapped his fingers just as Floyd turned the corner. The eel was mere inches from the group when he was tackled by a certain green-haired student.

“I GOT HIM, WAKA-SAMA! I WON’T LET GO OF HIM!”

“I’ll rip you like seaweed…”

As Sebek held him back, Malleus calmly walked with Phoebe in his arms while Grimm and Furret followed behind him.

Grimm barged into the alchemy lab with a loud slam of the door, said professor was glaring at the two and was about to scold them for their manners but Grimm beat him to it.

“Pups, what have I told you-“

“You can throw me to the dogs later! But right you gotta help us turn her back before that eel tries to make a basketball out of her!”

Crewel looked at the disheveled Phoebe in Malleus’ arms with concern before he realized something. He browed through the shelves full of vials and took one.

“Perfect timing then. I just so happened to finish making a reverse potion after days of trying to figure out the contents from Spade’s cauldron. I was planning to give it to you after class but I guess better now than later… Hand her to me”

Malleus placed Phoebe in front of Crewel. The man helped her angle her round body to be able to drink the contents in the vial.

It had a menthol taste too it, a bit too much in fact that it feels like an Ice Beam was about to go off in her mouth.

A white smoke started to surround her body until got bigger and bigger. When it finally dissipated, she was back to her human form. The uniform she was wearing was still there when she turned back.

“Finally! I thought I’d never go back to being myself! As fun as it was to be a Cherubi… I find it hard to live without the use of opposable thumbs…”

Phoebe sighed as she got up from the floor. Crewel looked her over, seeing if there were any other limbs she might have grown. When there was done, he simply dusted off her uniform from any dirt and sent her on her way.

“Now, be careful of any stray mutts that might be rampaging through the halls… especially a certain ocean mutt-“

“Pink cherry!- Ah…”

“You’re back to normal… boo that’s boring”

Speak of the devil, Floyd barged into the alchemy lab with a slam from the door.

Floyd’s terrifying predator gaze turned into a blank look as he sees Phoebe was back to normal. Furret and Grimm stood by her, ready to fight him off again.

“To be honest, I wished to hold you as a walking cherry for a little while longer, child of man…”

“Not you too…”, she could only sigh.

The whole “Phoebe turned into a waking cherry” incident was finally over.

But Phoebe has noticed how some were missing the small cherry. Too bad, she has had more than enough thrill from being a Cherubi.

No thank you!

END

[novemberthecatadmirer]

Although I do not go with it but the “Maeglin never got released back to Gondolin Sauron was impersonating him all the time” headcanon is actually pretty appealing

I WANT TO SEE ONE FROM SAURON’S POV it’s going to be so much fun

Consider it he could be offered this mission by Morgoth to make up for his utter failure at Luthien event (Got humiliated by one princess of twilight going to humiliate another prince of twilight. Morgoth had sense of humor.)

Numenor: Sauron became the king’s favorite and ruined the already problematic nation from within. Gondolin: Sauron became the king’s favorite and ruined the already problematic city from within. (Gondolin absolutely already had SO many issues going on.)

Sauron getting to see Gondolin forge and learn their secrets!!! It being such a good experience that he did it again to Eregion in Second Age.

Sauron, partying HARD in Gondolin. Eating nice food and drinking and dancing and being his charming self. At the same time plotting the various tragic deaths of everyone around.

Maeglin did not reveal Gondolin’s defense secrets Sauron gathered those secrets while impersonating him

Regular dream zoom-sessions with Morgoth to report information

Sauron being creepy to Idril and Earendil. Idril thought Maeglin finally throw off his cover. Earendil being a child realized something was extremely off it’s almost like his uncle came back WRONG. But he could not understand what was happening and did now have enough vocabulary to clearly convey what he felt.

Would Sauron like Idril in some way? I think the answer is “YES”

I headcanon Idril to be such a plotting cunning politician determined to make sure her people survive the Doom. It was a HUGE ambition. She heard the Doom at a young age then almost immediately had her mother dead and lost in cold water. She’s traumatized paranoid filled with anxiety always thinking and preparing for the worst. I also cannot believe she did not have bitter feelings about Turgon’s dumb grief-driven decisions, and share the anger against Feanorians. But she masked her feelings even better than Maeglin and people viewed her as the sun and hope of Gondolin. Except she was on the edge of losing it and yelling at her father and starting a coup so that she could start evacuation of the city.

Would Sauron find that mass of repressed anger & pain interesting? And the daring ambition to escape the Doom laughable? He would want to extinguish that fire and squish that hope. He would want to break the princess just like he broke the prince.

And yes, killing Earendil in front of Idril then dragging her away to be his toy would be NICE

Of course Sauron would be offed by the mortal man he was ignoring and looked down upon all the time. He’s Sauron he never learned that particular lesson

Ah and capturing Salgant to make him Morgoth’s little musician. For fun and as a punishment for Maeglin refusing telling the secrets of the city. “See, the city fell anyway, they believe you to be the traitor, your uncle is dead, your cousin and nephew hate you now, and I have your best friend as gift for my lord.”

Maeglin could laugh at Sauron for being offed by a mortal man but it hardly matter everything was still awful for him no one knew he was being kept in Angband all the time and being forced to work in their forge

(You know this actually makes more sense for the fire mechanical dragons. You cannot convince me Maeglin could make anything like that within short period of time)

(Morgoth could just, show him Sauron in Gondolin and said “well if you still do not cooperate maybe I am going to have my lieutenant doing something to you pretty cousin or your cute nephew or your arrogant uncle or your little fat friend.”)

(He still managed to design some fatal flaws into the metal dragons. And after learning Earendil & Idril escaped he refused to cooperate anymore. That’s why the dragons were not used in War of Wrath; they overheat and exploded.)

[evelyn-penaherrera]

1 ' 1 Object:

So, for this performance piece, we were tasked to make a one minute video and to use one object. In this case I used my squish-mallow Betty. Betty was a birthday gift from my mother, about a year old now. I cuddle her every night, so I think it's fair to say that I'm quite attached to her.

The story that I'm telling in the video is a real one. Cat poop landed outside the litter and I asked my brother to pick it up. He did pick up the poop but didn't clean up the floor, so two days later my water bottle fell on the poop stain. I can look back on this now and laugh at what happened, but when it did happen I was furious. I had to go to my room and just sit down, because if I had gone to my brother at that second I would have ripped him a new one. A little later, I calmly told him what happened, we laughed about it, and he cleaned up the floor.

So, I chose to use Betty as my object because she's adorable. She's cute, has a stoic face, and is first and foremost, a toy. Thinking I would perform this in front of my class mates, I chose a story that I thought would make them laugh. So my initial idea was to sit in front of Betty and vent to her this story, sort of like writing in a diary. Because of unforeseen circumstances, the in-person performance changed to a video format. I thought sitting in front of Betty wouldn't have the same impact on video that it would in person. So to combat this, I filled the frame with Betty and filmed in front of a lamp so you could see my shadow passing over her as I told the story.

My choices are mostly arbitrary. I wanted to tell a funny story and I wanted to include Betty. This piece was mostly just a sort of slice of life. Betty is a stand in for someone I would actually vent to about this. As I was working on it though, it sort of started to change in meaning, at least to me. Betty popped into my head the second we were given the assignment. So what does it say about me that I, an adult, wanted to use a toy? After re-watching the recording a couple times, I realized that yes, this is funny actually.

When I was venting to Betty in the video, I let myself relive those petty feelings that I had at the time. But I chose to vent them to my teddy bear. An object that couldn't respond and would in fact, not judge me for still being a little upset about it. I had created a scenario, in which I told a funny story but was also allowed to relive some petty feelings. Sort of like when your mind drifts and you fantasize about an argument that you didn't win, but in your fantasies you do.

[callmesumi]

I’m now very interested in Anguria and the fact that her name means watermelon which I find frankly hilarious. May I request some stuff of her?

ANGURIA (Btw she now has purple hair, it’s outdated but I’ll still use it cause I’m too lazy)

NSFW ALPHABET

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Blanket, tons of blankets. A cup of their favourite drink and a little chit chat if partner isn’t asleep.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Her favourite part of her body is her thighs. She can crush watermelons with those~ Her favourite part of her partner’s body is their chest, loves to squish her face between them whatever gender her 2nd partner (Her 1st is Acqua) is.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Male Partner:

Loves for her partner to cum inside her, has a bit of a reverse breeding kink (instead of breeding them, partner breeds her) but she’ll suit with cumming on her.

Female Partner:

Likes making her female partner squirt, need I say more?

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Wants her partner to sit on her face SO badly.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Oh, very experienced.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Male Partner:

Mating press.

Female Partner:

Scissoring

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Serious, but will crack a joke from time to time it shes feeling good.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

She has blonde pubic hair due to being born blonde, but dyed it purple cause she wanted to be more like her father. Some hair down there but not much, well groomed.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Very intimate.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Will excuse herself and masturbates in her room, but if she’s on a mission and really needs to, in an alleyway.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Reverse Breeding.

Knifeplay.

Cockwarming.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Bedroom, but pretty much anywhere. She won’t judge.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Pretty much almost anything.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Farts. No farts or stuff like that.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

No idea what to do for this.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Prefers for their partner to go fast and rough, but will deal with any pace her partner pleases.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Loves quickies.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Risky, yes.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Longest she went for is 21 rounds, she has a lot of stamina due to genes. I think that’s how stamina works anyway.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Lots of toys. She does use them, on partners and herself.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Lot of teasingggg~

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

A bit loud but not too loud.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Likes being fucked against a wall.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Average sized tits and semi-thicc ass, she’s not ashamed of it. Thicc thighs :).

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Very high, again due to genes.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

A bit after their partner. Logs how well they did, a habit accidentally picked up from her father, then has a cup of water or milk then sleeps.

FLUFF ALPHABET (D-M)

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Happy wife/husbando, happy life.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Dominant one really.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

TW: MENTION OF GASLIGHTING, SKIP TO G IF YOU FEEL UNCOMFY

Will forgive them but first gaslights them.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Very aware and grateful.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Share almost anything except her work. Her 2nd s/o doesn’t need to know about that.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

Nottt really?

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Pretty easily. Will pull you away and hug you.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Very romantic I’d say? Good kisser.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

A bouquet of flowers and a card.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Yes! she does. Pretty romantic proposal, idk just use your imagination. Throughout the marriage, she wouldn’t tell her s/o about her work. But there’s a note on the door that says If Anguria doesn’t return home one day, she’s most likely dead.

[cyborg-franky]

Hello! I heard you're taking care of a small little fluff ball so don't feel pressured to taking this in! I was wondering if you could please do prompt 6 or 29 for Ace? Thank you! I'm grateful for whatever you write! Have a good day and take care, also say hello to the flluff ball for me!

This is such an old message, oops. Louie is okay! we adopted him brothers but they did not get on and they had a little fight. He is still okay but next payday we need to find him little brothers because the others were his age and they just didn't click. I will give him a big kiss and a hello from you though <3

In the future I need to have two chars to choose from but I am a sucker for Ace so.

Ace x GN Reader SFW Modern AU Prompt: going to a fair and playing games and going on the Ferris wheel Word Count: 962

The fair was in town and Ace wanted to go, he gave you this whole speech about how he and his brothers used to go every year but now they’d moved out of town with their respective partners. You were going to suggest going anyway but you still liked to see how passionate Ace got about things and let him barter with you about the trip.

“Yeah sure, we can go tonight?” You suggested and smiled when his face lit up, the grin that appeared on his handsome freckled face when he jumped up on the couch and pulled you into a hug, your face squished against his chest as he assured you it’ll be fun.

–

The music was loud but not unbearable, the night sky was the perfect backdrop to all the glittering bright lights of the fair. Smells of cotton candy and hot dogs filled the air as you walked past the food trucks. Ace held your hand and led you around the fairground, telling you that it never changed, it was like this every year.

Chilly Autumn air nipped at your nose and you could see your breath as you responded to him each time he asked you something, how he wanted your input, trying to keep his own brimming excitement at bay.

You were impressed Ace was able to keep himself under control, you were sure he would have rushed off in every direction. You both got a hot drink from one of the vendors, wanting something to warm your hands as you walked around, admiring all the stalls, games and rides set up.

Hearing happy screams as you heard the roar of a small coaster behind you, seeing Ace’s attention follow the cart on the tracks, watching the way it twisted and turned with a gleam in his eyes, knowing that would be on his list tonight.

“Hey, look at those plushies, they're really cute.” You said and pointed to a fair game, all the toys lined up around the walls as you walked closer, a big table with a large pool in the centre, bobbing along the water were bright yellow rubber ducks of varying sizes with metal hooks peeking out the top.

“Want me to try to get you one?” He asked and peered at the rules, something about each duck having a coloured dot on its bottom correlating to the prizes stacked up.

“That’s sweet but I think I can handle a game of luck.” You said with a wink and put your money on the side for the game owner.

You were both given a rod with a little metal hoop at the end, designed for grasping at the hooks on the ducks. You looked at each duck’s smiling face and wondered if the ones with smaller hooks would have better prizes, you watched as Ace just went for it, going for the biggest duck and the biggest hook. Going for the easy option.

Lifting your chosen duck you saw the owner pick your duck off the end of the pole grabbing Ace’s as he did so. You waited, feeling giddy about the prize as the man nodded and pulled off a tiny rubber duck keychain and passed it to Ace.

Ace seemed to deflate at the small prize but shrugged it off, quickly attaching it to the wallet chain that dangled from his jeans, looking pleased with himself nonetheless. You watched as the man grabbed the plush you were eying up and handed it to you.

“Hey, well-done babe!” Ace grinned and put his arm around your shoulders as you held the plushie tight to your chest with the biggest smile on your face, already coming up with an array of silly names for the cuddly toy.

–

Some fairground food later you and Ace found a few more games, he was pretty good at the coconut game, hurling cricket balls at them and knocking the coconuts from their posts. Winning you another toy which was nice, you felt loved when he handed you the toy, something romantic about being won a prize at the fair.

You both went on a few rides together, the waltzers, the bumper cars which he was a little shit with, always chasing you, but it was still a lot of fun and your cheeks hurt from how much you were grinning.

“Hey, this place closes soon, what you wanna go on?” Ace asked, your hand in his as you clutched your stuffed toys under your arm.

“Ah, that?” You pointed to the large Ferris wheel with the assortment of coloured lights covering it. You wondered what the fairground would look like from here, getting to see all the rides and bright colours.

“Alright then, let's do it!”

The ride was a little shaky as each cup got to a certain position and paused, letting someone else on but as the wheel rose to the top you got to see everything. You took a breath, you’d been right, this was nice and you felt Ace shuffle closer to you, his arms around you as he nuzzled his nose against the side of your head.

“This has been loads of fun, thanks for coming with me, I thought I was going to have to miss it..” He admitted and let out a sigh.

“I’m having a great time and I’m glad we came out, you know you can share all these things with me as well as your brothers, right?” He nodded and leaned closer, kissing your cheek, once, twice, before you turned around and pressed your lips to his.

“Yeah I know, thank you.” He said, voice soft and genuine as he leaned his head against yours, admiring the view and enjoying a wonderful date night with you.