#I have more but it’s too late for this shit

[rebootgrimm]

So Trump Won, Now What?

I get it, we’re all worried. I am too. Above all else on this list, keep yourself safe. Don’t do anything stupid, especially without a plan.

Find Ways to Cope

With the election results, it’s understandable to be afraid. Do whatever you need to (within reasonable amounts. please do not overdose) to comfort yourself.

Take off of school / work if possible to rest. If you don’t have money saved up to be able to take a day off, that’s completely understandable. If you can’t take a day off school for whatever reason (like me. I’m writing this while being driven to school) then that’s okay as well.

Eat comfort foods. You can take a cheat day if you’re on a diet today, you deserve it.

Do things that help you calm down. Some things can include: drawing, crafts, listening to music (punk playlist I helped create here if that might help), knitting, etc. Whatever it is, do it. 

Cry. It’s understandable to want to cry after this. I felt like crying too.

Prepare For the Worst

I hate to say it, but it’s likely that shits going to hit the fan once Trump hits office. Here’s some ideas on what to do.

Preserve any media that MAGA might try and get rid of. For me that’s going to be writing things online down into a notebook and preserving punk songs (likely onto a cassette tape just so I have it tangibly), for Janet next door that might be pirating. Buying any books that might get destroyed is a good idea as well, so that way it still exists, despite censorship.

Stock up on physical items that may end up being destroyed / not being sold anymore. Books are a good idea to have since book censorship has existed as long as dictatorship has. Another idea is over the counter birth control since it likely won’t be allowed to be sold anymore. If anyone has any more ideas, put them in the reblogs / comments.

Stock up on money. I have a secret stash that has about $200 in physical dollars hidden in it, and that’s just counting dollars. 

Build Community

This goes hand-in-hand with prepare for the worst, but I felt like it deserved its own section.

Make a garden. It may be a bit late to do that right now due to it being winter in the U.S., but you can always prepare for one. Food prices will likely go up, so it’s good to have plans for free food.

I’m not sure what to title this bullet point, but with prices for everything likely going to go up, it’s great if there’s people who can provide things like clothes or anything else one might need.

Even without any of the other two things, having community in general is good. Even if that’s just a group of friends who you sit with at the lunch table and talk with, it’s still a community. If you aren’t able to make one in real life for whatever reason, then make one online.

If anyone has anything at all to add on then please put it in the reblogs (preferred) or comments. I’m not usually one to ask for reblogs, but I’d argue that this is really important and needs to be shared. Remember that your existence is resistance and that it’s always okay to punch a Nazi.

@our-trans-punk-experience @liberalsarecool

[balrogballs]

I'm still sad about this heartwarming and mildly amusing little section where feral adolescent Aragorn brings some joy to Maedhros in his unhinged little way, which I had to cut out of Cast in Stone for structural reasons, especially as I had gone to the trouble of illustrating it!

But I realised it reads perfectly fine standalone, so you guys can have my crumb of Maedhros-joy instead. No context required: Maedhros and Maglor are temporarily staying in the Shire during the late Third Age, Maedhros had a horrible night of traumatic dreams and was being maudlin — until young Aragorn, aka Elros II and the bane of his life, turns up like a bad penny, as he often does. Enjoy!

---

"You look unhappy," said Estel, sitting down before Maedhros, legs crossed. "Does your hand hurt? Surely it can't be as bad as when it got chopped off, can it?"

"No, but leave me be, Estel, I have —"

"All right, but let me ask just one question. I promise, then I'll go away. I just remembered something from my lessons, and every time I ask Ada he looks up at the sky and asks the Valar where he went wrong in raising me," Estel moved closer, looking around for eavesdroppers. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. But I would like to know."

Maedhros frowned, swallowed the lump in his throat and dragged in a breath. "What?"

"Fingon rescued you on one of those enormous eagles, didn't he? On that mountain with Morgoth and all of that. It was one of those, right? Manwë's Eagles."

"Yes. He did. I do not wish to answer any further questions on the matter, clear off."

"And it was quite a long journey, wasn't it?"

Maedhros grunted.

"I've always had a question about it… and again, you don't have to tell me if it's too traumatising," Estel's eyes shone, as though he were about to hear a state secret. "And I promise I won't tell anyone."

"Spit it out, boy, or leave me now. I am in the mood for neither company nor memory."

"Did it… you know…?"

"If you're trying to ask me if losing the hand hurt, yes it did," Maedhros snapped. "Now leave me alone, I've had enough reminiscing for a damned century. Get off home, now!"

"Oh, shut up, I wasn't asking about your stupid hand, I don't understand why you think everyone sits around thinking about your hand," Estel scowled, pursuing his lips, before deciding his quest for scientific knowledge was more important than whatever had crawled up Maedhros' arsehole and died. He widened his eyes conspiratorily, looked around again. "My question has nothing to do with that! I just wanted to know, did the eagle… you know?"

"Estel, I am not going to repeat this, get out of my sight right this —"

"Did it take a shit?"

"Did… what?"

"Did it take a shit?" Estel flushed as he said the word, Elrond's parental touch finally taking hold, though in a predictably useless manner. "And if it did, how big was it? As in, was it normal bird crap, or was it, you know — like a bucketload of it?"

Maedhros blinked. Estel held his hands out to demonstrate.

"I've always wanted to know that about them, you know," the boy continued, stroking his chin like a philosopher. "Manwe's eagles, that is. Surely if they're big enough to carry two people, one being a towering beast like you, their droppings must be massive."

"What…?" Maedhros couldn't formulate words, a state of being Estel clearly had no familiarity with. "Their… what?"

"And yes, I know they're divine, all of that, but surely they can't be toilet trained, can they? I just don't see Manwë having enough time to toilet train an eagle, you know. Could you imagine just… going about your day, and having this massive tub of birdshite fall on your head? Oh, it could drown a person, I'm sure of it!" Estel grinned, as if said occurrence would be the best day of his life, had it happened to him. "So, did it? And if it did, did you see if it went on someone?"

Maedhros sat there blinking at the boy in complete silence before rising quietly, taking the now-extremely-familiar ear, and slowly — like he were a corpse — leading Estel to the village gate. He didn't say a word, only gestured weakly and put up three fingers, a signal the now sulky boy was very used to.

And as Estel, muttering darkly all the while, neared the completion of his first punishment-lap of three around the village green, he heard something that sounded like a donkey in immense pain. It was a sound so tremendous and unexpected that it brought Maglor running from the house, gaping at the source, having not heard such a thing in centuries. It was no donkey, but Maedhros in complete hysterics, sitting on the ground exactly where he was when he beckoned Estel to run, sobbing with laughter, actual tears pouring down his face, which itself was screwed up and flushed so pink he looked like he'd been badly sunburned. He was trying to explain the situation to Maglor (who had been glaring at Estel as if he had personally killed his brother, and now looked upon him like he was Iluvatar himself) but Maedhros was howling too hard to even stand, let alone form coherent words.

Estel pretended not to notice, and started on his second lap. Though objectively speaking, the laugh itself sounded like something between a foghorn, a pig and whatever noise he imagined Ungoliant would make — there was something rather lovely about it that brought an inexplicable little smile to his face.

[endereies]

THOUGHT YOU WERE MINE - CS

No Nut November - Day 5

NNN Masterlist...

-➤ When Chris was finally ready for a relationship with you, it was too late

Your situation with Chris was complicated to say the least. You had been running around with his for the past few months, sneaking off during parties and events. You loved the risk between getting caught with someone who was only meant to be your best friend. But it never stayed that way.

At first you sought out Chris’ attention in the midst of a drunken decision, yet as time went on, you found yourself seeking his frame in the crowd as soon as you arrived. It was stupid, you were aware of that. Chris never did commitment, that he made clear. Countless conversations spiralled around the idea if you two and what you both wanted.

You had thought you could escape the pain of falling for someone you couldn’t have. As soon as your heart clenched when he complimented you, you knew it was over. That feeling only grew and even if in the moment you felt like the only girl he’d ever look at, it was a lie. It didn’t help that when you snuck off with him, it wasn’t always for sex. Occasionally you’d find his hand tangled in yours while the concrete steps lay below you. Sounds of the party called the pair of you back. You always ignored it.

He'd steal the odd kiss from you, in front of people and never batted an eye. The two of you would be dragged into the stage by the other to your favourite songs and you never care how you looked when you were with him.

Those moments made him question how he felt about you, seeing your vibrant smile as you danced with your friends. Or the way you’d laugh without a care in the world. Little did you know he was falling too. He hated it.

Chris was open about his commitment issues to you. He wasn’t someone who was immediately happy getting into a relationship, the whole idea intimidated him. Having a label felt too immediate for him, and after being hurt in a previous relationship it was easy to see why. The fact he was falling for you was already enough to throw him off course, he just couldn’t turn away.

The way you both felt wasn’t subtle. Your friends always giggled when they noticed the smudged makeup that was lining your lips. No matter how many times you v denied the accusations of you two dating, the butterflies in your stomach became obvious.

That was until you confronted Chris about everything.

“Hey Chris...? Vulnerability filled you as soon as the words left your mouth. Quick glances around the room failed to aid you in finding anything else to converse about. His hand stilled from your hip, the touch burning your skin. “Mm? What’s up?”

You hadn’t even said anything to him, and you already felt sick in your stomach. Is this how every confession goes? “Can we talk…about us?”

“What about us Y/n?” You could tell he was getting concerned, yet not out of fear, but the fact he’d have to repeat himself again.

“I don’t want this anymore…like, I don’t know. I guess I don’t want to act like this is all casual anymore.” His touch on your hip no longer burned as it withdrew completely.

“I’ve told you, I’m not into that shit Y/n. We agreed on that, you knew. I’m not meant to be in a relationship, especially with you. That shit would hurt the both of us. We talked about this, end of.”

Tears brimmed at your eyes, and you felt so childish. He was right. You had discussed this more than once, the rules were clear. Weren’t rules meant to be broken. You couldn’t believe that you could be so stupid, the false hope from your friends fed into things that shouldn’t have been touched.

“Right…Well maybe I should go.” He didn’t protest, or even acknowledge you leave. Asking you to stay felt like too much to him, even if every cell argued with him.

The door shutting felt too real. You had actually left, this wasn’t a prank? Chris’s gaze was held on the door, praying you’d push it open and walk back through. You never did.

You quietly left through the front door and walked away from the porch, both your hands in your pockets. You were thankful for the dark sky, that way no one could see your tears. It was too quick, to reactive. It felt scripted hearing those words from him. ‘I’m not meant to be in a relationship, especially with you’

With you…

Maybe if you were someone else, he’d be more willing to hold your hand and call you his. He would always step in and call you ‘his girl’ when any other guy got a little to close to him. For once you wished it wasn’t a ploy. Chris never played you, never treated you badly, never gave you a reason to walk away. Maybe that’s why it hurt so much, he was too perfect.

Steady weeks went by with no contact from you. You never came over to his place anymore, invitations to parties remained unread. He didn’t care, he shouldn’t. What was this weird feeling in his chest.

It hurt seeing you so close and yet so far. Your contact was there, staring him in the face. Your face beaming in the profile picture wasn’t helping him. Chris felt out of place now. Without you by his side he had no one to kiss, no one to hold. He had no one to rant about his day to, no one to console when things got bad. His friends weren’t the same, he needed you. As much as he hated to admit it, all his thoughts revolved around you more than ever. Whenever he used to think about you, his heart clenched with resolute admiration towards you, now it felt sour. It was like a deep breathe wasn’t deep enough, distractions weren’t fulfilling enough.

He hated the feeling of falling for you, but the feeling of losing you was a nauseating sensation he wanted to scratch off his skin.

Not even alcohol could wipe the stain of you, nothing was working. He waited too long and fell comfortable to the casualness of your relationship. He was willing, willing to work through any fears if it meant getting you back.

Before he knew it, his front door was locked, and footsteps disappeared into the night. Stars began to light the sky above him. He found himself wondering if you were looking at them too, like you used to. The walk was only 15 minutes away but each second felt too long. he had waited too long. Now he hurt someone he cared about for his own selfishness.

When Chris turned the corner, his body stilled, and his stomach dropped to his feet. An unfamiliar car was parked outside your house, tilted against the concrete. Your hand placed gently into another’s as they pulled you from the car. You inched closer towards them, yet Chris remained frozen. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. Who was he, why was he here, with you.

The voices were too meek for Chris to make out, yet the message was clear. It was evident when the distance between you two close, his lips softly touching yours.

Only then could Chris turn his eyes away, he felt betrayed without reason. Chris wasn’t ready and when he finally was, he pushed you away enough to move on.

Yet, he loved you first.

@melliflws @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @bueckerrss @worldlxvlys @raysmayhem-72 @patscorner @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @luverboychris @jnkvivi @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @shorthairchris @colorthecosmos444 @anabethinking @zay-sturns @anyaa2s @emilyfaith2003 @jassturn @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @sturniolosiphone @ribread03

© ENDEREIES 2024

[slasherflicks999]

nina!!!!!! :3

wanted to do a more cartoony kind of style than usual hehe

aaaaaaaaand a transparent version as well 😈😈😈

i love her!! also my recent posts have gotten so much love thank you guys so much for that holy shit :,o really ups my motivation with starting to post again i appreciate it a bunch :D

[yuikira]

𓈒࣪ The "you" shaped spot ₊✧

warnings: pure fluff, one implication of having sex, bits of crying, hurt/comfort, ooc kinich, very self indulgent, i apologize for mistakes.

GOD THE ANGUISH I FEEL SINCE THERE HAVE BEEN NO GOOD KINICH FICS RECENTLY

m so sorry mualani i love you but i hate you coz you're so shipped w kinich it makes me cry in anguish burn in despair and writhe in pain..coz hes mine. not yours. never yours (guys am i mentally ill)

"y/n?"

well, this was strange. if he still remembers how to read the time correctly, it's 3:30 pm and you should be at home today. yet he couldn't hear a single sound from the shared household, implying you were, infact, not at home. huh? that was wholly strange. you both had no urgent tasks for today, so where were you gone? your date was in 1½ hrs time, so he didn't have a tinge of worry about it. he knew you'd return by that time, even if you were gone somewhere. but where did you go anyway? to the balcony? xilonen's workshop? ororon's fields? mavuika's chambers? ifa's vet?

it was almost 5:30 by the time his patience finally ran out. you were nowhere to be seen, noone knew your whereabouts, your departure time was unconfirmed, and you didn't even tell him about it. he tried to distract away the thoughts that eerily haunted his mind, 'what if she's in danger? kidnapped? or perhaps, dead?'

he'd get nothing out of overthinking. finally, it all clicked to him where you could perhaps be found.

shit, and was his intuition right. he could hear the sounds of violent sobs drifting off in the sea breeze, some sniffles and pieces of incoherent speech here and there. they were yours.

"y/n? y/n!"

he gently held your shoulders and tried to pry off your palms from your face. is it too late? at last as he finally managed to do so, he saw your tinged red eyes, indicating you've been crying for a lot of time.

"what happened to you? babe? are you okay? please tell me- what happened to you? please, please please-"

"im fine, ichi, its alright"

"you dont look alright at all. what happened to you? who did this to you? this sadness?"

"oh it's just..um..this is embarassing.."

"no tell me, please baby, tell me. if you don't tell me and start crying again, i might just start crying too. please tell me"

"um.. it's...basically, these past few days I've felt like... you're.. avoiding me. like...everytime i try to approach you, you just- you just..shut me down. push me away. it maybe because I'm not living upto your expectations, but these past few days I've been feeling like you spend time with mualani more than me. it hurts so bad when my inner thoughts whisper to me, haunting me by saying stuff like you're giving the same lovesick smile to her as you do to me, and falling for her and- mfhm?!"

oh by gods, the way kinich just tenderly held you yet kissed constrastingly different, almost making you feel dizzy and lightheaded. you knew you weren't in the right state of mind after crying and struggling with your thoughts for so long, and his intoxicating kiss didn't help the matter at all.

at last when he finally pulls his lips away from yours, a tinge of bemused smile rests on his slightly chapped lips. him? in love with mualani? he'd rather give away his body to ajaw and keep himself locked in a small piece of memory inside your heart, so that as long as your heart beats, you both never get seperated. that was the best deal for him.

"look, im sorry I didn't tell you earlier and I'm sorry if I don't live upto your expectations and or are falling for mualani, its completely alright and-"

"Are you insane?"

"huh?"

"You are the words etched into my heart. You are the blood in my veins. You are the god I was born to worship. Who am I to commit such blasphemy?"

"i-ichi-?"

"You are the knowledge I seek. The love I pray for. The reason of my existence. And you still think I'd leave you?"

"wait no ichi i-"

"The symphony of my beating heart belongs to you. Only you. For long as I'm alive, its bound to beat for you. I love you, y/n. I love you so much."

Teardrops began to fall from your eyes again as he finished speaking. He'd never, ever been good with words, reflecting his love and care with his actions instead. Although he's trying to be more and more vocal for you, you'd never expected this from him.

That was the moment you realized, his heart was 'you' shaped, with every single bit of his sanity dedicated to you.

"And no, I.. I'm so sorry if i made you feel as if I'm avoiding you. I'm infact not. It's just the fact that.. I'd been trying to plan a surprise for you for our 4th anniversary, but..looks like I wasn't so slick with it. I'm sorry"

"No, no, it's fine, it's fine. I misunderstood, no need to apologise" you shook your head while holding one of his hands, the other wiping your tears off as he gently places a soft kiss on your forehead.

"It's partially my fault, for making you feel this way. Let's go home, yeah? I'll try to make it up to you. Brownies and making love later?"

You smiled. "I love you so much, it's hard to put into words like you did"

"I love you more. You're forever my girl"

[bopero]

sunspots

summary - a collection of hamzah’s lack of self control when it comes to you. warnings - swearing, reader is a kpop stan lol note - hai :3 i have been so obsessed with hamzah lately i had to get it out of my system. this is a side blog as im too embarrassed to post on my main fic blog. enjoy and send ideas!

polycule reveal - out of character #100

The podcast starts like any other. Hamzah and Martin sit in the middle of the couch, with Mandy and you on either side of them. It’s the first episode that has you featured in it, and Hamzah is quick to settle any nerves you have with a soft smile and a squeeze of your shoulder. “So, yeah guys. There’s another member in our polycule now, this is Hamzah’s contribution.” Martin points towards you. Hamzah shakes his head, “Alright, bro…”. “Does that mean I get a share of the YouTube channel? Mandy, have they ever given you money?” Mandy clicks her tongue and continues in her deadpan voice, “Um, no. Basically they keep me in their dungeon until they need more views. I’d run away if I were you, honestly.” You pretend to look nervously between Hamzah and Martin, “Honestly I didn’t wanna say it but the basement Hamzah keeps me in is super gross.” “I don’t like this bit. Viewers, please be advised I do not keep my girlfriend in a basement for views. I don’t know about Martin, though.” “Dang it, first episode and they’re already making us look like idiots, Mandy. We need to try harder.”

becoming bts - out of character #104

The episode is you, Hamzah, and Martin. Hamzah is sat obviously much closer to you (which the comments are quick to mention, laughing at the lack of personal space he gives you.) “Yeah, a lot of the Slushies have been asking me if I’m a kpop stan. My ult bias-” Hamzah throws his hands into the air dramatically as he sees you pull a small photocard out of your wallet. A familiar face makes him groan loudly, “Oh, don’t even get me started on this fool! I am sick and tired of seeing him everywhere!” You proudly show off the photocard to the camera despite Hamzah’s childish complaints. Martin leans over to take a look at the photo in your hands, “Bro, what’s the big deal? Is this like challenging your alphaness?” You laugh loudly and Hamzah smiles, betraying the annoyed facade he’s putting on, “No! He just haunts me. She knows when his birthday is and shit and what he ate for breakfast that day, like bro,” he turns to you, pointing at you accusingly, “You don’t ask what I eat for breakfast.” Martin grabs his shoulder, as if to calm him down, “Bro. You know what this means. You have to defend your woman.” Hamzah turns to Martin and before you can question them, they begin singing together and waving their arms in the air, “Shoot dat boy in da head, shoot dat boy in da head!” The episode ends with you deadpanning at the camera as they chant beside you.

don’t play this game at 3 am (not clickbait!!!)

Martin and Hamzah had listened to their viewers, your first feature on the channel being in a Resident Evil gameplay. The comments are filled with ‘i slushed everywhere when i saw yn in the thumbnail’ and ‘hamzah holding onto yn everytime there’s a jumpscare boyy aren’t u supposed to b da man?’ You sit between the two men who both inadvertently curl into you as the creepy aura permeates outside the game as well. Martin dramatically holds onto his head as you shoot bullets into the grossly looking zombies on the screen, “Oh, god they’re gonna eat us out! Quick, grab more ammo!” “Ok, I don’t think they’re gonna do all that-” They both jump as a loud, sharp groan comes from the speaker. Hamzah in particular lets out his signature high-pitched scream. Martin seems to break character and laughs aloud as Hamzah shakes his head in embarrassment, turning away from the camera so it won’t catch the bright blush on his cheeks when you coo at him. “Aww, did you pee yourself?” Martin tries to speak through laughter, “I think you did, dude there’s a wet spot-” Hamzah quickly denies it, “Ok, stop lying to all the slushies, bro, I did not pee myself. I’m sick of this, turn off this trash ass game-” “It’s ok, babe. I’ll protect you, I’m your Leon.” Martin waves a blushing Hamzah over, “Yeah, come on you big baby. It’s not even that scary-wait don’t go in there-“

vacation

Hamzah had convinced you to create your own channel, due to the growing comments begging him to convince you to do so. You hadn’t expected much, but it’d at least be a nice way to share sweet memories between the two of you. The vlog starts with you sat in front of your vanity, as you complete your routine. You talk animatedly about the vacation you’re on with your boyfriend, mentioning the beautiful sights you’ve seen and the delicious food you’ve had so far. You don’t notice but Hamzah walks into the room, quietly sneaking into view when he notices you’re filming. He’s too sweet to scare you on purpose, so he only places the bag of food in front of you and waves towards the camera, “Hiii, it’s me, Hamzah. Remember me?” You push him out of frame, “Ew, get your big head out of here!” The bottom half of his body remains in frame as you look up at him from the seat, “What?! This is how youtubers act behind the camera guys, leave hate comments below, please.” He leans down to be to your level, staring longingly as you get ready. He imagines this is how it feels to watch art being made. You don’t notice his blatant staring, ���Tell them how nice it is here.” He’s pulled out of his thoughts with your voice, “Yeah, it’s pretty sweet. Think we’ll bring our kids here cause kids like beaches. Right?” You both seem to forget the camera is even there as you turn to him, “We should take them to Legoland.” He lets out a disbelieving laugh, “Really? That’s the best you got?” You give him a side eye that makes him laugh harder, “Ok, get out, this is my video.” Hamzah only waves at the camera before giving you a gentle kiss on top of your head and leaving. It’s barely in frame, but it’s enough to show the burning warmth he holds for you.

[hxney-lemcn]

Late Night Chaos — Daisuke x gn! reader

summery: things aren't looking too good, so the crew decides to open the cargo hold and find out just what you were delivering.

tw: nothing that isn't in the game.

a/n: Updates might be a bit more spaced apart, but I'm gonna see this to the end. I refuse to give up on it.

wc: 2k

Master List

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight

“I didn’t even wanna do this stupid internship.”

An admission into the night you're sure you weren’t meant to hear. Your insomnia grew worse, unable to get Curly’s painful screams out of your head or the plight you all found yourself. Only two months have passed, and you weren’t sure if anyone was even looking for you. Did Pony Express even have any tracking system to see if ships were down? Would they search when it was already too late? 

Your pessimism was shining through, but you tried to keep it to yourself, not wanting to smother Daisuke’s hope. It seems even he was prone to dark thoughts, but you’d be more concerned if he wasn’t worried at all. 

“If I just told my mom no I could be home right now,” Daisuke continued to mutter to himself. “Who am I kidding, I could never tell my mom no.”

“I wish you did,” you replied, eyes still closed and curled up in a ball.

“Y-you’re awake?” Daisuke gasped, but you made no sign of movement.

“Hmm,” you hummed, pressing your face farther into your pillow. “I wish you weren’t here.” Your words were harsh, causing the brunette to hesitate. You had gotten harsher after the crash, becoming more blunt.

But you had also gotten softer somehow. Sending him mixed signals, your harsh words softened when you gently stroked his cheek, eyes finally opening to meet his own. Anger, fear, sympathy, regret, so many emotions spun in your jewel colored eyes he almost felt dizzy. 

“I wish we met before this,” Daisuke said, voice cracking as he felt pressure form behind his eyes. Shit, he didn’t wanna cry, he had to be strong, for you and the rest of the crew. 

Your fingers brushed under his eye, catching a tear that was threatening to fall. Your silence felt warm, inviting, your gaze broke him, the dam breaking as his wishes spilled past his lips.

“I wish we were back on Earth. Hanging out in my room and this all just ended up being a bad dream. My mom calling us for dinner and everything is okay.” 

He was crying now, fat tears falling down his cheeks as you continued to stroke them. Daisuke wrapped his arms around your form, burying his face in your neck as he let out strangled sobs, not wanting to wake the others.

“I’m sorry,” You murmured into his hair, gently running your nails up and down his back in a soothing manner. “You don’t deserve this, none of us do.” 

…

“We ain’t touching the damn cargo,” Swansea argued. “The hold is locked down for a reason. The only thing worse than dyin’ slowly is not gettin’ paid.”

The whole argument seemed redundant. It seemed that Swansea was the only one against opening the cargo hold. He was a stubborn old fool in your opinion. If your speculation is right, and you won’t be looked for until your ship doesn’t come on time, then you’ll all have died from either starvation or lack of oxygen. Both those options seemed terrible to choose from, but a long, drawn out death was worse than a short painful one. For all you knew, you all were shipping food, or water, or something that could keep you all going just a bit longer. Especially since the cryo chambers were out of commission (not like there were enough for the six of you anyway. Besides, Curly had no chance to survive the freeze due to his wounds). 

“But it could be something useful,” Anya argued back. “I think-”

“Could be what?” Swansea cut her off. “Hopes, dreams and marzipan? Hah!”

“Could be food,” You interjected, glaring at the oldest of the crew. “Protein bars, chips, hell maybe we’re lucky enough to be carrying canned goods.”

“If it helps us survive it’s worth it,” Jimmy added with a nod. 

“Man,” Daisuke spoke up. “Pony Express bosses really aren’t chill at all, huh? C’mon, a quick look won’t hurt.” 

You nodded in agreement before Swansea brought up a good point, “How exactly is this group therapy committee planning on gettin’ in there?”

“Oh, right here boss,” Daisuke pointed to himself with a smug grin. “You’re looking at the meanest swing of the regional junior baseball team! Nearly straight up corked a kid once! I can take the utility ax-” You couldn’t stop the snort that came out of you, hiding your face behind your hands as everyone looked at you with various emotions. 

“You were goddamn born fully corked,” Swansea glowered, face twisted in a harsh sneer. 

“That’s enough, Swansea,” Jimmy intervened. “There has to be an ‘in case of emergency’ way inside.”

“If I remember correctly from reading the safety protocols…” Anya trailed off. “The doors should have an alternate access code, but it can only be uncovered using a code scanner device.”

“And only the captain has access to the scanner,” Jimmy continued. 

“Of course! Go ahead, just ask him all about it then,” Swansea mocked. “Maybe he’ll sing ya the blues too.”

“We can just look for the scanner,” You brought up. “It’s probably either in the captain's quarters or the cockpit.”

“I’ll figure it out,” Jimmy waved you off. “For better or worse, I’m captain now.” You tried your best to hide the offended look that fell on your face, but it was hard to do so when Jimmy rubbed you the wrong way. Sure, it made the most sense for him to be acting captain since he was Curly’s co-pilot, but you didn’t like the way he acted like he had to do everything himself. It was giving you ‘I need to do everything my way and feel better about myself’. 

“Right on!” Daisuke cheered, before you all split your ways. Anya ran off to medical, Swansea stopped Daisuke from following him while Jimmy probably went towards the cockpit. That left you and Daisuke to sit in the rest area, the led screen shone an image of a warm sunset, permanently stuck after the crash. 

“You really think there might be food in the cargo?” Daisuke asked, resting his head against the top of the chair.

“It’s probably wishful thinking,” You grumbled, taking the seat across from him.

“Damn,” He sighed. “I was kinda hopin’ for something other than soup.” 

“You dissing soup?” You asked, raising your eyebrows. “I’ll take your portion too if you don’t want it.” Wait! No!” Daisuke exclaimed with a chuckle. “I take it back, I mean I love love love soup and want to eat it every day!”

“You’re such a dork,” You laughed, gently kicking his foot. 

The door slid open, halting your conversation as Jimmy walked up to you both. He stared at you both intently, and you felt a bit uncomfortable at the irritable stare in his eyes. You slowly realized he always looked that way.

“Looks like it’ll be soup again for dinner,” Daisuke spoke up first. “You wanna rock paper scissors for the chicken noodle?”

“That’s my favorite,” You pouted. Daisuke tended to make you feel more relaxed, no matter the situation.  “Ah, nevermind then,” He sighed. “It’s theirs.” Gosh, he never failed to make you feel warm either, even in your dire circumstances. 

“How much food do we have left?” Jimmy cut in, ignoring your banter altogether. 

“I’d say four months-ish,” Daisuke replied. 

“Hmm, less than the remaining air supply, but we can make it last,” Jimmy muttered to himself holding a hand up to his chin. “In theory. We’ll be poking new holes in our belts to pull that off.” The thought of starving unsettled you, but it was an unfortunate possibility. But then the question is how much air supply is left? That was something you couldn’t conserve…well, unless someone died…but even then it wouldn’t be much.

“Man, my mom will straight up stuff me when I get back,” Daisuke laughed, trying to keep the atmosphere light. “I’ll look like Swansea!” You chuckled bittersweetly, shaking your head amusedly. “We’ll have a rad story to tell,” Daisuke continued, looking between you and Jimmy with a strained smile. “They might even write articles about us. We could be on TV!” Once again there was a pit in your stomach. No matter the outcome, you were sure to appear on TV…

Jimmy also seemed uncomfortable, eyes shifting, and posture ridgid, “Uh, it’ll impress the ladies too.” You nearly broke out laughing at how awkward Jimmy was, coughing into your fist to hide it. Even funnier was it seemed he didn’t realize you and Daisuke were already in a relationship.

Daisuke looked confused, glancing at you briefly before uttering a confused, “Uh…yeah…the real problem is running out of toilet paper. Fatal stuff, man.” This time you couldn’t smother your laughter, hiding your face from the two men before you. 

“Seriously!” Daisuke emphasized, grin turning brighter at your laughter. “We should leave that part out for the press.”

“Totally,” You agreed. “Wouldn’t want the ladies to know.” This time Daisuke snorted, Jimmy nodding uncomfortably before leaving. The two of you cackled for a few more seconds before calming down.

“I thought everyone already knew we were dating,” Daisuke said, confused. “Not like we’ve been hiding it.”

“Just goes to show how much he cares,” You shrugged with a sigh. 

“You think he got the code scanner?” He asked, tilting his head slightly.

“I’d think so,” You nodded. “Wanna head to the cargo hold?”

“Yeah.”

…

Mouthwash. 

You were hauling fucking mouthwash. 

It felt like a tiny bit of your sanity slipped away. You weren’t the only one though, everyone looking at the contents of the box in disbelief. 

“Mouthwash?” Anya asked in a shaky voice.

“Un-fucking-believable,” Swansea cursed. 

“There’s gotta be an ocean of the stuff in here!” Daisuke exclaimed. “The room looks freakin’ endless!” You felt dizzy staring at the rows upon rows of shelves, boxes stacked to the brim on each one. 

“This is what they’d have six people hauling for over a year?” Jimmy scoffed in disbelief. “All of this…for mouthwash?!” You tensed slightly at his shout, but quickly focused on Anya as she spoke up.

“The sugar content probably offsets any potential as a disinfectant…” Anya informed, reading the ingredient content. Great, this was completely and totally useless-

“Disinfectant? What’re you-” Swansea grumbles. “Let me see that!” Snatching the bottle Swansea reads the contents as well. “Fourteen percent ethanol.” Suddenly he bursts out laughing, seeming a bit manic. 

“Haha?” Daisuke gave a confused laugh, clearly not understanding the implications. “I s’pose we’ll smell good at least…?”  “That’s right kiddo! You can bet your ass on that!” Swansea continued to laugh. 

“W-what are you doing?” Anya stuttered, eyes wide in concern. “Stop that!” Instead, Swansea starts to chug the blue liquid, causing your stomach to churn. 

“Whew-whee,” Swansea, sighs. “Ohhh, shut up. I’m just an ol’ codger taking care of his dental hygiene.”

“You hear that?” Swansea continues, glancing at you all. “That’s the sound of fifteen years of sobriety popping like a cyst. A glorious, magnificent, red hot cyst. Good riddance and cheers! To Captain Curly! Hear, hear!”

“Guess anyone could get seriously blasted off of this stuff,” Daisuke mutters loud enough for us all to hear. 

“Yeah, and give you a seriously bad stomach ache,” You grumbled. 

“And kill you in the process,” Jimmy huffed. 

“This can’t be real,” Anya bemoans. “I-There’s no way…”

“Now we can go out in style,” Swansea grins nihilistically. “Daisuke! Come here! Anyone ever teach you how to drink like a man?” 

You felt your stomach drop, one alcoholic was bad enough, you would be damned to let Swansea drag Daisuke down with him. 

“C’mon,” You muttered, grabbing Daisuke’s hand and dragging him past the rest of the crew, head down. 

“Somthin’ wrong?” Daisuke asks once you're both back in the main hull. 

You blinked at him like he was dumb, “Seriously? This whole situation is wrong! And now Swansea’s out of commission if he’s gonna nurse that goddamned mouthwash!” You let out a frustrated sigh, running your hand through your hair. 

“And he’s trying to take you down with him.”

“I won’t drink it if that’s what you’re worried about,” Daisuke mumbles softly, eyes filled with concern. 

You side-eyed him, feeling anxiety claw at your chest, “And how do I know you’ll keep that promise?”

Daisuke opened his mouth, but nothing came out, confirming your fears.

[therandompagesblog]

SKZ Mate Chapter 20

Trigger Warnings: None

"How are you feeling?" Minho asked as he brushed a loose strand from her face. "I'm worried that is all," Y/N admitted as she cuddled into Minho's chest, wanting to fall asleep again. Y/N had a bit of a stressful night and struggled with being alone late at night. She didn't want to be alone with her thoughts so she found herself knocking on the beta's door who sat up with her and listened to her thoughts. It brought them closer than they were before. Minho even apologised for his awkward behaviour with her, but she brushed it off as there was too much tension going around the house and it was starting to nerve her. "Give Chan some time. He doesn't mean to push you away, it's a lot for him and he isn't someone who likes to express his emotions." Minho explained as he kissed her forehead, trying to soothe her worries even though he was concerned himself. He was worried about Chan. They had gotten over and dealt with the emotions of his uncle before, but now that it had all come to light again, Minho wasn't sure how to make it right. "How about me and you spend the day together?" Minho suggested, "we can cook together, and watch some films. I do have to make a shopping list." "What about the plan with Hongjoong? Minho I'm worried, I've been here six weeks." Y/N stated. "Shh. Me and Jeongin are on it. We have been working on a plan since you have arrived. We have been doing some digging around Hongjoong and your pack to try and prove Hongjoong kidnapped you out of spite." Minho explained. "I don't understand." "The werewolf council far north doesn't particularly like Hongjoong either and is more in favour of cooperating with us, but we need a strong amount of proof to appeal to them. If not then it's a war. Chan doesn't know me and Jeongin have been going out to find stuff." Minho stated as he got up to grab his clothes ready to have a shower, leaving Y/N to her thoughts. Y/N hadn't expected Jeongin and Minho to look into options as soon as she arrived. She wondered what they had found out and if she could help them in the future or the next time they went out.

While Minho was showering, Y/N rummaged through his clothes and put on his hoodie along with his jogging bottoms before heading into the kitchen to make a start. She gathered some ingredients and laid them out. "If you're going to poison them I would take Seungmin out, he is a little shit," Minho stated as he affectionately wrapped his arms around her waist, placing his nose into her hair, breathing in her scent. "I can cook Min," Y/N whispered, feeling slightly shy at his actions. He had never willingly embraced her before it was normally the other way around. She didn't want to ruin it by mentioning it, instead, she allowed him to hold her, watching her chop up somethings. "How is Seungmin a little shit?" Y/N asked, causing the older wolf to scoff. "When is he not? Don't be fooled by him. Seungmin has a sharp tongue and can be very sly." Minho warned playfully as he squeezed her tightly, before letting her go when the door opened to reveal a naked Jisung. Jisung jumped and covered himself with a dead bunny when he saw his little wolf was up and helping the beta. "Uh, me and Innie got some rabbits and deer meat for you," Jisung said nervously as he shuffled towards the counter to drop the bunnies off before scurrying up the stairs. Y/N watched him in amusement as she eyed his naked self, he was incredibly beautiful and he had a cute little ass. "You'll burn it," Minho whispered as he touched Y/N's hand with a knowing look.

The two of them continued to cook while occasionally nudging one another playfully. Once they finished Y/N sent Jisung to wake the others up so they could start eating. The wolves seemed much more eager to eat when they heard their omega helped to cook. Jisung was the first wolf to shove a mouthful of food in, which caused Changbin to smack him around the head. Even Hyunjin appreciated her food despite his unusually quiet behaviour. He was quiet normally but there was always a remark that followed through. Hyunjin could see her concerns so he gave a quick smile and a wave of calm energy. What concerned her was Chan wasn't present at breakfast. "He's gone to work early," Seungmin stated as he noticed her look for him. "What are everyone's plans today?" Y/N asked. "I'm going to the gym with Jisung, Jeongin and Hyunjin today. I would offer but nuna said no gym for you." Changbin gave Y/N a smirk knowing he would eventually get her in the gym at least once. He only wanted her to go so he could be extra close and fulfill his little gym instructor fantasies. "Jeongin and Hyunjin. Yah. I don't need to be bullied today." Jisung's voice was stressed as he thought about the pressure of the two alphas. "If you worked out more you would be fine Hyung!" Jeongin teased causing the older beta to shake his head. "The audacity of this alpha. He's not a little kid anymore." Jisung shook his head at Jeongin's attitude. "I'm still your alpha." Jeongin teased as he stole a piece of Jisung's meat. Y/N watched the two playfully tease each other. It felt normal as if everything was fine. She wanted this forever with them. "Felix, what will you do today?" Y/N asked as she looked at the blonde wolf whose eyes couldn't reach hers. He felt he did not deserve to look at her after what he had done. "Uh. I'm going to go for a run this morning." Felix answered awkwardly. "I'm gonna stay with you and Minho hyung." Seungmin interrupted as he gave Minho a playful look, causing the elder to glare. He did not want his date ruined by the younger beta. He was in trouble when he wanted to be. "Can't you go somewhere else?" Minho asked, a glare forming on his face as he watched the younger wolf playfully kiss the omega's neck and give the beta a sly look. "Why? Is there no room to love your favourite beta too?" Seungmin slurred. "Heathen!" Minho flared flashing his amber eyes at the wolf. "It's okay Min. Seungmin can clean the kitchen today." Y/N demanded as she flashed the wolf a look as she passed him the towel. Seungmin looked at the towel as if it was a foreign object. "Uh. What is this? I don't clean." Seungmin argued. "Uh. You will. Hyunjin can alpha order you." Y/N sassed, causing the wolves to either choke or grin. "No. No. Let me try." Jeongin said excitedly, "Seungmin go and clean up. Did it work?" "No I am not. I'm not a housewife." Seungmin argued. "Seungmin do as Y/N says all day." Hyunjin commanded his eyes glowing their usual dark shade of red causing Seungmin to huff into the kitchen. "You've got to put meaning into it and force," Hyunjin explained to the younger alpha who was scratching his head awkwardly. "We can practice on Jisung." "Uh, huh. No." Jisung laughed nervously at the thought of being the guinea pig today. Y/N gave him a sympathetic smile before getting up to hand a grumpy wolf the dirty plates.

Minho had to admit it was funny to watch the wolf doing chores at least once in his life, but the only concerning thing was the wolf was putting some of them in the wrong places. He had even seen Seungmin toss the bowl into the wrong cupboard. Y/N pushed Minho into the living room so they could watch a film together. "Don't be mean, Minho." Y/N chided as she wrapped her arms around the beta's waist. "What? He looks like an angry puppy." Minho laughed even louder when he heard Seungmin's growls come from the kitchen. Y/N shook her head and dragged the wolf into the living room so they could watch a film together. It worked out successfully until the young beta interrupted them every fifteen minutes to question where something went. Minho knew he was doing it on purpose because every time Minho snuggled closer Seungmin popped up. Every time Minho went to kiss her, the obnoxious wolf would present himself with a confused innocent look about not knowing where it goes. Minho was incredibly frustrated. He wanted to spend time with his omega but it was becoming impossible. All Minho wanted was to show his love for the female wolf. As much as Y/N found it amusing she could feel the frustration radiating off of the beta so as soon as Seungmin left the room to place the random object back to its rightful place, the female wolf threw herself at the beta, smashing their lips together. Minho didn't expect it but allowed her to assault his lips as he quickly tried to match her pace. His hand reached to her back as he slid his leg over her waist drawing her closer. His tongue finally entered the cavern of her mouth. Minho didn't want to be too invasive but he also wanted to show his love for her. "Wow! Did Minho Hyung have his first kiss? Who would have thought." Seungmin taunted causing the wolves to jump and a snarl erupting from the beta's throat. Minho stood there with a shit-eating grin as he held a vase. "Didn't you know? Minho has never kissed anyone before." Seungmin snickered as he watched Minho's ears start to turn red in embarrassment. "I mean you stole his first kiss a few weeks ago, but Minho is a virgin at everything. You know-" "Outside. Now. Off you go." Y/N ordered as she waved the annoying wolf outside, before shutting the door on him. Seungmin rolled his eyes and walked back through the door when she stopped him. "I wasn't joking, you can stay outside all day," Y/N stated. "Don't be so mean little puppy, it doesn't suit you." Seungmin chided. "No. Then don't be a little shit. You're staying outside." Y/N ordered knowing he couldn't do anything about it since Hyunjin ordered him to follow her instructions today.

Y/N headed back to the living room to see an embarrassed Minho flitting around the kitchen as he looked for things to add to his shopping list. Y/N felt bad for him. Not because of him being a virgin but the fact that Seungmin blurted it out was horrible. It was kind of attractive to Y/N that Minho and Jisung were virgins but she also didn't want it to set an expectation because she wasn't a virgin. "Minho," Y/N called out as she looked at his shopping list and added some things to it. "Minho. Look at me." Y/N called out, making the wolf slowly turn around. His face held no expression and his eyes didn't reach hers. "It doesn't matter. None of it does." Y/N promised. The beta nodded his head and turned back around causing Y/N to pull at him. "Don't hide." "I need to go shopping, little wolf," Minho stated before grabbing her face to kiss her forehead. Y/N stared at the spot he once was and sighed. Why do they all go funny when there are problems? Why don't they talk to me?

Taglist for the iconic readers:

@galaxy4489 @mbioooo0000 @jisungs-iced-americano @maybeimmia @hwangrfrnd@wolfo2027 @kayleefriedchicken @leamueller920 @borahae-reads @jennibahng @cookiesandcreammy @leezanetheofficial @jutdwae-flower @danceonmyheyday @jc003 @hpnsfwaddict @linocz @itzreetal987 @skzdreamer13 @reallychaoticwoo @liv1sworld @upsidedownchaire @jutdwae-flower @danceonmyheyday @jc003 @hpnsfwaddict @skzdreamer13 @reallychaoticwoo @ihttinniee @kingdomofpentagon @pixie0627 @tsunderelino @notevenheretbh1 @catlove83 @h0rnyp0t @hash2013 @hyunmikim

[haveateadude]

take a bite

summary *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ your gf is spiderman, and she keeps getting hurt

warnings *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ sexual tension i think?? idk. no smut. a very slightly heavy makeout. ellie is hurt!! and there's a description of her wound that is quite detailed i think. the rest is fluff??? and no angst.

author notes *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ every penny i throw in a fountain is another wish for spiderman!ellie to be real. i was literally kicking my feet as i wrote this

Indulging in situations that are fabricated imaginations

Moments that cease to exist

Only want to fix it with a kiss on the lips

After a long night of patrolling, all Ellie wants to do is cuddle and kiss you. You're on your phone, lying on your bed, when she knocks on the window. You stand up to open it, letting Ellie come in, taking her mask off, and then jumping from the window ledge and landing on the floor with a huff. When she presses her hand to her stomach, you know she's hurt.

"Bad day, huh?" You ask as you close the window.

"It was good, I just—you know, I almost got shot."

You wouldn't roll your eyes if this hadn't happened before, but it has. A lot of times, actually. Her reflex when she's fighting gets a little… slow. And by the time she notices the bullet, it's too late, and she's already getting grazed by it.

"You need to be more careful," you say, crossing your arms. "I've told you that before."

"Says you."

You scoff, walking to the bathroom, not even bothering to tell Ellie to follow you.

Ellie sits on the toilet lid, placing her mask on the side of the sink as you take out the first aid kit from the cabinet. She removes her arms off the suit, and then you help her to get out of the shirt she has underneath it, leaving her briefly exposed—only with her sports bra. She's quiet the whole time, looking into your eyes as you work on tending the wound—cleaning and disinfecting. At one point, you end up sitting in her lap, her hands on your waist as you continue to take care of her. 

Thank God it is not too bad, you think. There was a time when Ellie had come with such a bad wound you thought you might have to go to the ER—the wound had been too open and she had been too pale and her face was covered in little cuts, her suit was full of burnt holes and her whole body was bruised. She asked not to go to the hospital, so you swallowed your fear and started cleaning the wound with shaky hands.

A part of you is still scared that she might knock on your window looking like that, or even worse. What would you do, then? Swallow your fear again and take it to your grave? What if something else happens—would your hands be covered in her blood forever, carrying the heaviness of a guilt you don't know where to place?

"Hey," Ellie says, snapping you out of your thoughts. One of her hands on your hips raises your shirt a little, for her to rub your exposed skin with her thumb. With her free hand, she places it on your cheek gently, as her thumb gently pulls your bottom lip out of your teeth. "You okay?"

"Yeah," you whisper. Her touch sends shivers down your spine, and it's taking everywhere in you for not to blush. Her thumb starts caressing your lip as she looks at your lips—then back at your eyes, then back at your lips again—and then she lowers her finger a little, now midway to your chin, gently parting your lips as she gets closer. 

She kisses you, and then it's heaven.

Your fears get lost in the moment, knowing she's right next to you. And that she's safe. And that one time was just one night and it doesn't mean it'll happen again.

Her hand on your hip moves until her hand reaches your bare back, and you hum in satisfaction, against her lips. The kisses get messier as you continue. At one point she goes through your bottom lip with her tongue, and you happily let her in. Your hands go to her hair, and she lets out a soft moan muffled by your mouth that has you wanting more. And suddenly, you make a sudden wrong move, and she whimpers, but in pain.

"Shit," you apologize quickly.

She lets her head on your shoulder and then her shoulders are shaking and you think she might be crying. But then you hear her laughter.

"You're so stupid," she mutters to your shoulder, letting both of her hands drop to your hips.

"You love me though," you say, as you stand up.

"Sadly, I do." She then exclaimed as you threw her shirt that was lying on the floor to her face, "Hey!"

"Take a shower or something," you said to her, organizing the stuff you used from the first aid kit.

"You'll join me, yeah?"

"You expect me to join you after you just called me stupid? Nuh-uh," you refute, putting the kit to where it was placed before. Then you walk closer to her, leaning down a little and giving her a peck on the lips, "I love you, too."

"Good to know," she says, jokingly. "Kidding. Love you."

There's another kiss, and then, "You should really take a shower, though. You stink."

"Oh, I do not!" She exclaims.

But after a shower, she smells her armpits and declares that maybe she needs to take another one.

[lebensmudewing]

Give up intersectionality, it is not mutual from any group you try to care.

You root for the disabled in hope that will help disabled women, but within disabled groups the issues of disabled women are overlooked and minimized. It's "niche" to talk about how experts ignore autistic women, it's niche to even acknowledge that women are in more risk to become disabled due to autoimmune diseases.

Black people rights are important for you, but black men don't see the liberation of women as something fundamental to their fight.

And I won't even mention lesbian women, because the whole LGBT thing is a shitshow, they can't be real homosexuals anymore.

You are spending energy in people that don't give a shit about women. Women should be the core of everything, all those causes should be fought from a female POV. Stop asking, stop negotiating, stop saying that it is about equality or liberating all people.

Also, and maybe I'm wrong, but I think most problems could be solved if women actually had more power and resources. Yes, powerful and rich women also face misogyny, but they have more chances and independency.

Maybe I'm insanely pragmatic, but I don't see value in pressuring people to not use certain words or display fake awareness that lately doesn't reflect in real things such as elections.

It's the same mentality I have about things like DV, like, what is more effective, give women more independency or try to teach men to stop hitting their wives and deconstruct themselves and how patriarchy hurts him too?

It's possible that I'm delusional, but Feminism 101 should be more "learn how to get your shit together and be safe from moids and controlling people" and less about "negociate with moids, then with black moids, then with disabled moids, then..."

Whats your unpopular radfem opinion?

Mine is that I do not get mad when radfems still wear makeup, especially if they’re cutting back on it heavily.

[vrystalius]

Trick or treat..?

I suppose it’s too late for that huhu😭 but may I please have your take on Sanemi taking care of a drunk s/o after a (halloween?) party?

Sanemi taking care of his drunk partner

He knew attending Tengen’s birthday part was a mistake. Sanemi never wanted to come in the first place!

Pairing: Sanemi x gn!reader

Again, this absolutely beautiful banner was made by @erexart !! Please, please go check her out! She makes fanarts (remember boxer Sanemi?) and art including her ocs and characters like Kyojuro and Sanemi— I love her comics so much, they are so so cute and I love imagining my own oc in her place XD Anyways, thank you so much for requesting and making this beautiful banner for this fic!

“Sanemiiii, you’re soo serious… lighten uppp, this a party, yeah?”

“Party’s over.”

Sanemi was steadily helping you to lean against his shoulder while his arms were wrapped beneath yours, trying to drag you down the streets, back to your home. He doesn’t step into the role of a caretaker often, but after watching you down drinks after drinks alongside the birthday-boy Uzui, he was already mentally preparing himself to finally pay you back for all the times you took care of him, physically and mentally. It’s the least he could do for you in his eyes, taking care of you while you are drunk. He had already stayed near you all evening, making sure that you don’t seriously overdo it and end up with alcohol poisoning, silently glaring at Tengen for again pouring you another drink. Sanemi was never fond of alcohol drinks and decided to stick to his green tea. Someone has to stay sober and make sure everyone is being responsible, right?

By the time you were stumbling away from the former sound hashira’s mansion, your husband steadied you carefully while you kept trying to wiggle out of his grasp, assuring him that you can totally walk on your own. Dragging you home and making sure that you don’t trip or decide that running off is a suitable option for you as well. You didn’t notice how Sanemi’s grip tightened on you as you complained about going home so soon, wanting to stay a little longer at the birthday party to celebrate more. By the time you two arrived back home, it was way past midnight. Your husband guided you to sit down while he prepared a small meal for you, scolding you to drink the glass of water he handed you slowly but surely, threatingly pointing his wooden spoon at you while standing by the stove.

“You’re so mean to meee! You’re lucky I like your pretty face.”

“Mhm, just drink your damn water.”

It’s a little ironic to him how Sanemi usually is spending his nights beating the shit out of demons, dragging himself home and almost falling asleep in the shower while you scrub his bloody back. Sometimes, despite how exhausted and how much you want to sleep right now, you still drag yourself to the kitchen and prepare a small meal for him so that he doesn’t have to go to bed hungry. You know that your husband would be too exhausted to make something himself, preferring to sleep. Despite how annoyed and pissed he seems with you right now because of how drunk you are, Sanemi still gladly takes care of you.

He always felt like he was taking more than he was giving in your relationship, taking your affections for granted, barely having any time for you due to his hashira duties and never really acknowledging how much you are doing for him. While holding the glass of water to your lips you still haven’t finished, his fingers carefully brushing over your rosy cheeks as a way to gently coax you into finally drinking at least a little bit of water. The quick meal he whipped up wasn’t anything too fancy, Sanemi feeding you with chopsticks while you lazy lean back against the chair, ready to crash into bed and hibernate until the late afternoon. Now you’re thankful for Sanemi dragging you home so early.

A shower he was planning on forcing you to take has to wait until later, you’re basically half asleep in your chair by the time he finished feeding you. Carrying you to bed was much easier than dragging you away from Tengen’s estate, your body basically limp in his arms while he carried you to bed. Your arms were lazily wrapped around his neck, playing a little with the hair on the back of his head while dreamily staring at your husband’s handsome face. My, was he always this hot? Or is the way Sanemi is removing your sweaty clothes just really turning you on? Before you could even open your mouth, your husband carefully helped you lay down properly onto your mattress, tucking you in with the cosiest sheets he could find. You grinned at him.

“What’re ya staring at?”

“The hottest man in the whole world.”

You relaxed under his touch as he ran his thick fingers through your hairstrands, detangling your hair a little while his eyes glossed over your features. Sanemi gave you a small hum of acknowledgement before leaning down to you, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. A small giggle escaped your lips as you weakly tried pulling the warm body of your husband closer for a cuddle. He didn’t even try to protest despite him still being dressed in his street clothes.

“I gotta change, bug.”

“Mh, no. Dooooon’t caaaree.”

Sanemi groaned in annoyance but never made an attempt to move away or escape your grasp. The tension in his body slowly began to disappear the longer your body pressed against his. He lazily kicked his shoes off and slipped beneath the sheets, giving up on fighting against your drunk stubbornness.

“Just sleep, will ya?”

“As long as you stay here.”

A soft sigh escaped his lips as he began to smile slightly. He moved closer to you, burying his face into your warm neck, closing his eyes in exhaustion.

“I ain’t going nowhere, promise.”

💠

I always feel so incredibly honoured when I receive art for my fics— when I first started posting on tumblr, I set some small goals for me to archive while being active on here: get over 100 followers, get a post to 1.000 interactions, get requests and get my favourite authors to like my works— one of those goals was to receive fanart or art for my works, and the first time erexart offered to make a banner for one of my posts, I can’t describe how happy I felt XD Once I gathered enough (like a goblin), I’ll make a small post collecting every piece of media I received from others— may it be art from you guys or own little fan-works or whatever, I always feel incredibly honoured to receive anything.

I apologise if this may sound desperate or demanding, I just feel like I don’t express my appreciation for you guys enough XD

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <3

[mingi-s-dimples]

Good boy - Hongjoong

~ HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY, MY SWEETHEART!! ~ @hongjoongtime117

pairing: hongjoong x fem!reader

genre: 18+, filth

summary: Your boyfriend is such, such a good boy.. and you decide to reward him for his behavior.

wc: 4.5k

warnings: established relationship, bdsm au, bdsm relationship, sub!hongjoong, dom fem!reader, hongjoong is so whiny and whimpers, reader is kinda strict but she's a good person and let's him cum ^^ lots lots of cum, handjob (two times), oral (m receiving), overstim, overwhelming, 3 orgasm, orgasm after orgasm, reader is a pleasure dom, praise, petnames, (blindfold), use of sex toys (vibrator, vibrating ring), bdsm crop (the rod with the piece of leather in one end), dacryphilia, aftercare, lots of edging and some denying, deepthroating, cum swallowing, completely consensual, unedited, for sure forgot something .

Author's Note: Happy late birthday, my lovie! I'm so so sorry for being so late w this 😭😭😭 I wanted to finish writing jt earlier but had some personal shit to deal w and didn't have time to finish writing it 😞 I hope you will enjoy it ^^ pls lmk what you think about itttt

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent in any way the reality of the member.

Sunlight crept into the room, casting a soft glow over the lingering chaos left from last night’s movie marathon. Pillows were sprawled across the bed, blankets tangled from restless rolling and laughing, and crumpled snack bags lay scattered around the room. Somewhere in the center of it all stood Hongjoong, hair slightly mussed, looking endearingly focused as he gathered the remains.

You lingered by the door, content to just watch him, feeling a gentle warmth rise in your chest as he fussed over each detail, folding the blanket, picking up wrappers, quietly determined to restore order. He seemed completely oblivious to your presence, humming faintly as he worked, pausing every so often to shake his head at the mess with a smile that told you he didn’t mind, even if it was a bit much to handle first thing in the morning.

But as he moved around, you noticed how the soft morning light highlighted the lines of his shoulders and back through the thin fabric of his shirt, how each motion set a subtle flexing in his muscles. Just as you let your eyes trail a bit lower, he suddenly reached behind his neck, gathering the hem of his shirt in his hands before lifting it over his head. You watched, your breath catching as he tossed it aside with casual indifference.

For a moment, you were frozen, caught off guard as he bent over to grab an empty chip bag. The movement sent a ripple through his back, smooth skin and toned muscles on display, leaving you with no choice but to lean against the doorframe, taking in the sight. A smirk found its way to your lips as you planned how you were going to make this moment a little more fun.

Moving quietly, you slipped into the room, closing the door softly behind you. approaching him. Hongjoong, still unaware, continued picking up the remnants of last night. You came up right behind him and waited until he bent forward to pick up another chip bag before leaning in.

“Hard at work, aren’t you?” you murmured, voice low, teasing, just a bit too close for him to stay calm.

He jumped slightly, straightening up so quickly that he almost bumped into you, eyes widening in surprise. “Y/N! I didn’t… I didn’t know you were—uh—awake.”

You raised an eyebrow, looking him up and down with a smirk that you knew would make him squirm. “Clearly. Here I was, wondering what was making all that noise, and then I find you… cleaning up nicely. Thought I’d just admire the view for a bit.”

A flush crept up his cheeks, and he instinctively reached for his shirt, hesitating, realizing it was now out of reach. “I was just… you know, picking things up.” He fidgeted, glancing down at the floor, his usually confident gaze faltering under your eyes.

“Well, I see that,” you said, folding your arms as you leaned in, not letting him escape your gaze. “But you didn’t have to go and take your shirt off, did you? Not that I mind.” You allowed yourself a lingering look, eyes drifting down his bare torso before meeting his eyes again.

He swallowed, hands curling nervously at his sides as he tried to find his voice. “I… I just thought it was a bit warm, and, you know, I was working, so…”

You reached out, tracing a single finger down his arm, watching with satisfaction as his breath hitched and his skin tingled under your touch. “You were working hard,” you murmured, tilting your head. “And here I thought you were just trying to show off for me.”

His eyes darted away, the blush deepening as he let out a shaky laugh. “N-no, I wasn’t trying to… I mean, it’s not like that…”

“Isn’t it?” You tilted your head, letting your voice drop to a playful whisper as you leaned closer, catching the faintest hint of his cologne mixed with the lingering scent of movie night snacks. “Because, to me, it sure looks like you’re putting on a little show, Hongjoong.”

Hongjoong’s hands fumbled as he tried to look anywhere but directly at you, the usual cool, confident expression on his face melting into something softer, more vulnerable. “You’re… you’re teasing me.”

“Oh, am I?” you murmured, feigning innocence as you placed a hand on his chest, pressing lightly just to feel the quick rise and fall of his breath beneath your fingers. “Funny. Here I thought I was just… helping. Don’t you like a little help, Joong?”

He shivered at the nickname, looking up at you with wide, almost pleading eyes. “Y/N, I… I really should finish cleaning up,” he whispered, the hesitation in his voice doing nothing to hide how much he was affected by your touch.

“Oh, don’t let me stop you,” you replied, leaning back just a little, arms crossing as you watched him with a satisfied grin. “By all means, keep going. I’ll just… supervise.”

He nodded, biting his lip as he glanced around, his face red as he tried to resume his task. But each time he bent down, he seemed to become hyper-aware of your eyes on him, his movements growing slower, more self-conscious as he fumbled with each chip bag and wrapper. You had to hold back a laugh, thoroughly enjoying how flustered he’d become.

As he finally straightened up with a small stack of empty bags, you reached out, stopping him with a hand on his arm. He froze, looking down at you with wide eyes, waiting, expectant. Without breaking eye contact, you brushed your fingers along his arm, letting them linger, feeling his muscles tense slightly under your touch.

“Nice arms,” you commented, keeping your tone casual even as you noticed his breathing grow shallow. “Ever notice that, Hongjoong?”

His blush deepened, and he struggled to keep his voice steady. “I… I don’t really… I mean, I just… you know.”

You tilted your head, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not sure I do know. Care to explain?”

He stammered, clearly flustered beyond belief, his gaze shifting to the side as he whispered, “I… I don’t really pay attention to… stuff like that.”

“Well, maybe you should,” you teased, giving his arm a gentle squeeze before stepping back, savoring the adorable, helpless look on his face. “After all, it’s not every day you get compliments, is it?”

He let out a soft, almost whiny noise, glancing down at his feet as he muttered, “No… it’s not.”

Your smile softened, but you weren’t done yet. Not even close. “Good,” you said, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair from his face. “Because I think you look amazing, and I want you to know that. Every single time I see you.”

Hongjoong’s eyes met yours, wide and vulnerable, and for a moment, the tension hung thick in the air. Then, with a shaky breath, he looked away again, his voice barely a whisper. “Y/N… you’re really… something.”

You laughed softly, reaching out to give his cheek a gentle pat. “And you’re really adorable, Joong,” you replied, letting your hand linger a moment longer than necessary. “Now, don’t let me distract you. You’ve got a room to clean.”

He nodded, looking dazed as he turned back to the mess, though his hands were shaking slightly as he continued picking up the leftover wrappers and pillows. You watched him, satisfied with the blush on his cheeks and the slight tremble in his movements, feeling more than a little proud of the effect you had on him.

As he continued cleaning, you crossed your arms, leaning against the doorframe with a smug grin, knowing you’d gotten to him. And with each little glance he stole at you, each time his hands fumbled, you could see that the teasing wasn’t something he was going to forget anytime soon. But you wanted even more.

"Okay, okay.. that's enough, sweetie." you said.

"Huh? The sheets are n-not-"

"We'll fuck them up anyway. Lay in bed." your voice lower than usual, but with the usual playful vibe.

His hands froze at your words, and a visible shiver ran through him. For a moment, he looked like he was trying to process whether you really meant it. You held his gaze, still leaning against the doorframe, and with a little nod, motioned toward the bed.

Slowly, he straightened up, cheeks flushed deeper as he left the half-finished sheets behind and made his way over, a hint of nervousness and excitement in his eyes. He lay down in his usual, comfortable sprawl—one arm draped across the pillow, legs spread out just enough to fill the space. His hair was slightly mussed from all the cleaning, and the pink on his cheeks had darkened, giving him a soft, vulnerable look.

You stepped closer, fingers reaching for the hem of his shirt, tugging it just a bit to get his attention. He tilted his head to look at you, his eyes following your every movement, anticipation clear on his face.

With a smirk, you turned and slid open the drawer beside the bed, your hand finding exactly what you had in mind. You took out a few things, giving each item a meaningful glance before setting them on the bedside table. His gaze followed every little move, the tension between you thickening as he realized what you had planned.

“Just for you,” you murmured, letting the playful tone in your voice linger as you sat beside him, your fingers trailing along his arm.

Moving your hands lower, your fingers trail along the waistband of his pants, playing with the fabric as you look up at him with a teasing smile. He bites his lip, anticipation clear in his eyes, and gives a small nod. You tug gently, guiding them down his hips and legs, letting them fall to the floor alongside his shirt.

Now, he’s fully exposed beneath you, vulnerable yet trusting, a hint of nervous excitement in his eyes. You lean in, brushing your fingers along his arm, letting him know you’re right there with him.

You keep your gaze on his face as you reach for the riding crop, allowing him to see exactly what’s coming. The crop is a slim, flexible rod, its length wrapped in cool, polished metal. At the end is a small, square leather paddle, just firm enough to make an impression but soft enough to keep things playful. You give it a little snap in the air, just to see his reaction.

He swallows, the anticipation in his eyes heightening. He’s ready, waiting for whatever you’re about to bring his way. But first, you reach over and pick up a blindfold. Its soft, velvety material slips smoothly between your fingers as you lean forward, holding it up just in his line of sight. "Close your eyes," you whisper.

As he obeys, you bring the blindfold down over his eyes, tying it securely but comfortably. The effect is immediate; his breaths deepen, his chest rising and falling under you as he sinks fully into the experience, the loss of vision making him even more acutely aware of each little sensation.

You lower yourself onto him, feeling the warmth of his bare skin against yours, and you notice his body responding. The tension between you thickens as he stifles a low groan, his arousal unmistakable beneath you.

With the crop in hand, you start at his shoulder, dragging the cool metal down slowly, letting him feel each inch as it slides over his skin. You pause just above his chest, letting the leather paddle brush lightly against him. His breath hitches, his body reacting to even the slightest touch.

"How does that feel?" you ask softly, letting him sense the smirk in your voice.

"Amazing," he breathes, his voice low and filled with need.

You let a teasing smile play on your lips as you reach over to the drawer, pulling out a sleek new surprise, its subtle hum breaking the silence in the room. A vibrator. You don’t need to see his eyes to feel the way he tenses in anticipation, a slight shiver running through him as he senses the new element you've brought into play.

With deliberate slowness, you bring the device near his skin, tracing feather-light lines along his body, testing the way he responds. Each touch brings a fresh reaction—a soft gasp, a quick inhale, his muscles tightening under your touch. His breath quickens as he tries to adjust to each sensation, the unpredictable rhythm keeping him on edge.

You make a game of it, drawing back when he seems to be getting used to one spot, then switching things up with a new touch or angle. His reactions fuel your every move, guiding you as you playfully keep him guessing, his body reacting to each carefully placed touch. Then, your hand guided the toy near his inner thighs, then to his cock. He flinched, but your immediate touch made him settle.

"You know the rules... right?" you asked, waiting for him.

"Y-yes..." he answered, already out of it.

"If you do, tell me."

"I-i should not c-cum if you dont s-say so.." he compiled to your question, a satisfactory smile rising on your lips.

"And?"

"My hands s-should always be b-behind me"

"Good boy." you said and moved the vibrator to his cock.

You got closer to him. Your left hand was resting on his thigh, making small circles onto the flesh. Your right hand was tracing lines and circles all along his entire length, achingly hard. You first circled its tip with the lowest speed, softly starting to put pressure onto it. He squirmed under your touch, muffling his moans back.

He was getting close but, you were not done yet.

You moved the free hand under the base of his cock, holding him down. You moved the head of the vibrator along the tip and the shaft, on a medium speed, then you raised it a bit. He let out a soft moan, his chest rapidly rising.

"P-please..." he pleaded.

"<Please> what? Use your words, pretty boy." you suddenly pressed the vibrator to the tip, forcefully.

"Ah, fuck! Ngh-" he moaned out, biting his lower lip.

"Use. Your. Words." you spelled it out for him, his hands barely at his back right now.

"P-please touch me again.. your hand - I need it.. p-please" he begs, nuscles tensing under your touch. A tear fell down his cheek, a playful, almost sadistic-like smile, appearing on your face.

"What a slut... aren't you?" you replaced the vibrator with your hand, "Who's slut are you?" you pumped him once.

"Y-yours! Y-yours.." he whispered.

"That's right, darling." and you decided that he deserved to cum so, you fastened your hand on his cock and the vibrator to his tip, circling it. It was already heavily leaking with pre cum, and as soon as you squeezed the tip of his cock and held the vibrator pressed to it he came, pearly white strings of cum splattering everywhere all over his lower abs and your hand, soft moans and whimpers leaving his rosy, flustered face, turning you on all over again.

You watched him, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips as Hongjoong panted, cheeks flushed and eyes half-lidded as he looked at you for approval. The sight of him—disheveled, vulnerable, a little shy—was exactly what you'd been hoping for.

"Well, well," you drawled, crossing your arms as you let your gaze linger over him, deliberately letting the silence stretch. "Look at you. So obedient, aren't you?"

Hongjoong swallowed hard, looking down, still catching his breath. "I… I did what you asked," he murmured, voice soft and a little shaky. The red in his cheeks only deepened as he spoke.

You tilted your head, making a show of appraising him slowly from head to toe, and then you moved a step closer. "Oh, I know. You did *such* a good job, didn’t you?"

His eyes flickered up to meet yours, a hint of desperation and hope mixed in with that shy, flustered look. He nodded, biting his lip in anticipation. "Y-Yes…"

You leaned in close, your voice dropping to a whisper as you tilted his chin up gently. "Did it feel good to follow the rules, Hongjoong? To do exactly as you were told?"

He whimpered slightly, closing his eyes for a moment, the sound caught somewhere between a whine and a plea. "Y-Yes… felt… so good."

"Mmm, that's what I thought," you chuckled, enjoying how his breathing hitched as you traced a gentle finger along his jawline. "And good boys who follow the rules get rewarded. Isn’t that right?"

He nodded again, his voice coming out in a small, pleading whisper. "Yes… please…"

You smiled, letting your hand trail down to his chest and then stepping back just enough to keep him wanting. "Ah, ah, so eager. But remember, *I* decide when you get your reward."

He let out a small whine, his eyes full of anticipation and need as he looked up at you. "Please…"

"So needy for me, for my hand..." said hand travelled across his chest, over his hardened nipples, softly pinching them. As you watched him squirm under you in pleasure, you moved the same hand to his pelvis, to the base of his hard-again cock. You got closer to him, leaned down and looked at him.

"I believe you'd.. like to see this," you said and softly reached out to touch the velvet fabric on his eyes and took it off. His eyes widened at your position: you were leaning on all fours between his legs, back arching, face as close as possible to his cock.

"O-oh god, babe.. you look s-so... good." he said, stuttering.

"Do you want it, Joong? Do you want me to suck you off?"

He swallowed hard, his gaze fixed on you, desire pooling in his eyes as he struggled to catch his breath. "Y-Yes... please, baby," he whispered, his voice thick with need. "I've never wanted anything more."

A teasing smile curved on your lips. "Are you sure?" you murmured, your fingers grazing lightly along his thigh, making him shiver. "I want to hear you say it, Joong."

His hands balled into fists, knuckles whitening as he tried to hold back. "Yes," he said again, more clearly this time, his voice shaking with anticipation. "I need you... I need you so bad."

You could feel the tension between you building with every second, a delicious heat that made your heart race. "Good," you purred, finally leaning forward to give him exactly what he asked for.

You leaned in, kissing the soft skin of his tip. He squirmed slightly, adjusting to the new activity. You then went on completing your reward. Your left hand held onto the base of his cock, slightly squeezing. You leaned in and kissed the tip, then licked the shaft up and down slowly for a couple of times. He already looked out of it, breath hitching and biting his lips with every touch of yours. His chest rose up and down as you went on finally sucking his length. You took a deep breath and took his whole dick all up your throat, choking and gagging on it. He whined out, hands barely behind his back now. You looked up at him and saw how eager he was to mouth fuck you.

"What you doing with the hands, baby? Didn't we agree on keeping them away from any activity?"

"I-i know... b-but.." he said.

"What? Do you want to fuck my throat so badly?" you teased.

"Y-yes ! P-please.. please." he pleaded, looking at you with puppy eyes.

"You've been a good boy lately... should I grant you your wish? Hm?"

As you smile up at him, you see his breath hitch, his eyes widening with a mix of anticipation and vulnerability. You bring one hand to his, guiding it gently, slowly, up to the top of your head. His fingers tremble slightly under your touch, betraying how much he wants this, how hard he’s trying to hold himself back.

"Here, hold me just like this," you whisper, your voice soft but commanding. "But remember, I'm leading until I say otherwise."

He nods quickly, his gaze intense, fixated on you with a desperate, pleading look. He held onto your hair softly as you took a mouthful of his length, your head bobbing up and down, sloppy sounds escaping your mouth. He shifted under you, slowly lifting his pelvis, in search of even more friction. He was *desperate*.

You stopped for a moment, looked and him and smiled. With a mischievous glint in your eye, you let the silence stretch out, savoring the way he’s utterly at your mercy. His breathing is heavy, his eyes locked onto yours, and his whole body is tense with anticipation.

You gently stroke his cheek, running your thumb over his parted lips. "You’re so eager," you murmur, voice dripping with satisfaction. "But remember, patience is a virtue." You let your hand trail down his chest, feeling his muscles tense beneath your touch, making him wait, savoring every moment.

When you finally continue, the pace is slower, more deliberate. You want to keep him on the edge, prolonging the intensity until he can barely contain himself. He groans, struggling not to buck his hips, obeying your lead with palpable effort.

"Good," you whisper approvingly, feeling the power of the moment settle between you both.

You keep your pace steady, teasing and edging him as his breaths grow ragged. His hands grip the sheets tightly, and he’s trembling now, trying to hold on. You glance up, meeting his pleading gaze, and you can feel how close he is—he's barely holding back, right on the edge.

With a knowing smile, you take him even deeper, giving him exactly what he’s been craving. The effect is immediate; his whole body tenses as he gasps, then moans, his voice breaking into soft, needy whimpers. He’s completely undone, lost in the overwhelming sensation, as he finally came. You swallowed everything, not a single drop went to waste as you slurped his load.

You don't pull away just yet. You keep him there, drawing out every last shiver, drop, until he’s utterly spent, lying back with his chest rising and falling, his eyes glazed and dazed with satisfaction. He looks up at you, breathless and vulnerable, and you brush a gentle hand across his cheek, savoring the intimacy of the moment.

Your hand reaches into the drawer beside you, fingers brushing over various items until you find what you’re looking for—the ring. Slowly, you draw it out, letting it rest in the palm of your hand, then hold it up for him to see. His eyes widen, a mix of anticipation and apprehension flickering across his face as he realizes what’s coming.

You move closer, holding his gaze as you slip the ring over his length, positioning it carefully and pausing just a second to let him feel its presence before you turn it on. The subtle, controlled vibrations pulse through him, sending a shiver down his spine. He gasps, his body immediately reacting as his hands clench and his breathing quickens.

You begin stroking him slowly, letting the ring do its work in tandem with each deliberate movement of your hand. His head falls back, lips parted as the sensations wash over him, and you see the need building in his expression—an almost desperate, needy look overtaking his face. He lets out soft, gasping pleas, his voice barely holding steady as he begs to be allowed to finish.

“Please,” he whispers, his voice tight, almost broken, as he meets your eyes with a pleading look. “I can’t… I need to…” he said, already damn overstimulated from the other two orgasms he had.

Tears begin to gather in the corners of his eyes, spilling over as his body shudders under your touch. You stay with him in that space, keeping the rhythm unrelenting but just on the edge of what he can handle, watching as he falls apart with each stroke, each pulse of the ring. His pleas become more frantic, his voice breaking as he teeters on the edge, unable to contain himself any longer.

You tilt your head, watching him struggle beneath you, his breaths coming in sharp gasps as he clings to the last bit of control he has. Smiling, you lean in close, letting your voice drop to a whisper.

"Have you been a good boy?" you ask, letting your fingers trace teasingly down his length, just enough to keep him teetering on the edge. His face flushes even deeper, eyes glazed and lips trembling as he tries to form words, but all that escape him are whimpers.

He manages a shaky nod, voice breaking as he stammers, "Y-Yes... please… I’ve been good."

You raise an eyebrow, feigning doubt, as you tighten your grip slightly, feeling him tense up under your touch. "Do you really think you deserve it?” you continue, letting each word hang as you slow your movements to a torturous pace.

Tears stream down his cheeks as he nods frantically, desperation clear in his voice. "Yes… please… I can’t—please, I need it," he chokes out, his voice a needy, pleading whisper.

With a smile, you finally relent, stroking him firmly in time with the ring’s pulse, building him up until he can’t hold back anymore. His entire body tenses as he cries out, surrendering completely, waves of relief flooding through him. You hold him steady, drawing out each trembling shiver, watching as his face softens, the tension melting away until he’s left breathless and spent, drops of silky white cum all over your hand, his abs and the now fucked up sheets.

As he finally relaxes, you gently stroke his hair, whispering words of praise. “You did so well, love. You were perfect,” you say softly, letting your voice soothe him as you place gentle kisses along his forehead and cheeks. His breathing slowly steadies, and you wrap your arms around him, holding him close as he melts into the embrace, seeking warmth and comfort.

You keep him close, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against you. Your fingers draw slow circles on his back as he buries his face into your shoulder, letting himself settle. After a few quiet moments, you gently pull back to meet his gaze, giving him a reassuring smile.

"How are you feeling?" you ask, your tone warm and full of care.

He takes a deep breath, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he searches for the right words. "I… I feel safe," he murmurs, his voice a little shaky but filled with a deep sense of contentment. "Thank you."

You give him another gentle squeeze. "That’s all I want—for you to feel safe and happy." You press a tender kiss to his forehead, watching as his eyes close, a calm, peaceful expression settling on his face.

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

[middlingmay]

Hello 😌 for the late night call prompt:

"i know you didn't just hang up on me without saying 'i love you'."

This could be so sweet (or not). Would love to see your take on it!

Hello! I'm feeling the fluff today, so I hope you like it. Thanks for the ask :) <3

John's mouth had served him both well and ill in his life.

He was funny and he was charming. He was able to spin a story and keep a table entertained. He could cheer someone up easy, diffuse arguments if he chose to. And because he could read people quick sharp, he could either make fast friends with a few choice words, or could provoke or end a fight depending on which of his more mercurial moods he was looking to feed that night.

But his favourite thing, he'd come to find over the years, was talking in a constant, rhythmic roll and lulling Gale, a notoriously poor sleeper, to a good night's sleep.

John wasn't even going to let state lines keep him from that privilege.

Work had sent him away for a couple of nights to deal with an issue and another officer. It's what he got with his reputation for being able to influence and mediate with the best of them. And of course, just two days before he was due to go, Gale fell sick. Not sick enough to warrant John calling it off; but just sick enough to worry and stress him all the way out because he wouldn't be here to take care of his Gale.

Gale who had no sympathy for his plight whatsoever.

"It's two days. I can take care of myself; I'm a big boy."

John leered without intent and moseyed into Gale's personal space. "Oh, I know."

Gale spluttered a dry cough into John's chest and struggled to get his breath back and John whined.

"Come on, Gale. Just say the word and I'll cancel. You won't have to lift a finger until you're better."

Gale pushed him off and tugged the cover he had draped around him like a cape in tighter. "No, thank you," he grimaced. "You'll hover, you'll get sick, then I'll be taking care of the two of us. Get to stepping, John. Quicker you get there, quicker you get back."

So they'd said goodbye, Gale tolerating John's too-many long looks back with barely a roll of his eyes (and John knew that was just because even his eyes were hurting). But he could kick him out the house and force him to go to work and make fun of him as much as he liked, but Gale couldn't stop John from calling him for their regular night time chatterbox sessions.

"I thought you were working," Gale drawled raspy into the phone.

"At nine pm? Not enough overtime pay in the world, sweets. How you feeling?"

Gale's answers were brief and perfunctory, but John could hear the ever-present affection even through the brevity. And John was always happy to pick up the slack. He murmured to Gale about the trip, the shit show at the office, and the gossip he entirely made up about his colleagues in another state just to keep himself entertained. He spoke about the town and the hotel, and what he had to eat. He told him every tiny detail he could think of, until he heard Gale's breaths even out and the soft snore of the congested drift across the line.

Chuckling low so as not to wake Gale, he finally hung up, proud of himself for being able to fulfil his duties even if he wasn't there in person.

But it only lasted a few seconds before his phone screen lit up, and Doll flashed across the screen. John swiped and lifted the phone to his ear to hear Gale's thick, sleepy reprimand.

"I know you didn't just hang up on me without saying I love you."

John grinned wide and dimpled and all teeth and gum at Gale's grumpy complaint. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. How rude."

"Mmph." Offended. Like a puffed up cat. John could practically see the displeased frown in the centre of Gale's brow.

"I love you. Now go to sleep."

"Mmph." Contented. Pleased. Maybe with that tiny little smile Gale had that pulled his apple cheeks up.

John stayed on the phone long past Gale's return to sleep. Just in case.

[texside]

I'm gonna share a story from Ultima Online, because I was there.

Ultima Online was the fucking wild west of MMORPGs. The modern safety net in MMORPG's -- the one you did not know exists -- wasn't there. Nothing was instanced and kills weren't "locked" to who hit it first; if something spawned, you hoped you killed it first. Killstealing would last into EverQuest...

But much would not.

You didn't have classes; you had a random assortment of skills, and if you leveled one too much, one would go down. Some had no combat use, but had economic use. You leveled those through repeated use, typically by macros so you'd see someone in their house moving the same way to repeatedly do a skill up while they slept or worked. Killing other players was punished only by town guards, so the wilderness had roving mobs of griefers. Fair chance they had some fucking add-on that cheated.

And your belongings? Those needed to be locked up literally.

Which I learned one day as, when my brother and I came home from high school, he logged on to knock out a few tasks -- the endless grind of tasks in MMO's was there from day one -- and sailed down the river. He'd stop at each player house and hover his cursor over the door.

I asked him, "What are you doing?"

He said, "Checking if they're locked."

They always were locked. You see, the denizens of Britannia knew: pirates sailed these seas. But that day... that day, he found a three story house, which was the richest kind you could really get. (There may have been a higher tier, an actual castle, but I believe it was rare.) And the door wasn't locked.

"Holy shit," my teenaged brother whispered. And then, he picked up the phone, and dialed my mother -- who we were to meet for dinner that night. And, very solemnly, he said: "Hi Mom, we're having car trouble. I'm... gonna be pretty late."

"Holy shit," my teenaged me whispered.

And then I watched as my brother dialed up friends. Fellow high school students, home from school; one who lived in Massachusetts, my father's long distance bill be damned; a middle-aged computer store owner who played with them. And then they arrived down the river: an armada of boats, sailed up to this house. Two stood outside, on guard for others who would come to stop this -- or, more likely, also engage in what was to come.

They stripped the place. Every high-end weapon and armor; every low-end weapon and armor. Beds, tables, chairs, planters. Reagents for spells. Anything that could be looted -- months of work by this house's owner -- was piled in huge stacks on the six boats waiting outside. All because this guy did. not.

lock.

his.

door.

Ultima Online was wild fucking place.

this is a stupid question but i'm young enough to not know this: i've noticed that baldur's gate 3 has picked up a lot of the same level of both broad acclaim and fandom presence as the Bioware games did during the 7th generation. were there western RPGs in the decades before then with about the same level of success both commercial and critical? if so, what were they?

That's one of those "yes and no" deals.

The critical thing to understand is that home Internet service only became a thing in 1994; prior to that point, video game fandoms not only didn't have the same kind of reach, they tended to be geographically regional owing to the lack of online distribution, so what commercial and critical success looked like was very different.

To a large extent, the popularity of Baldur's Gate owed less to anything about the game itself, and more to the fact that it was simply a major production from a major brand which happened to debut at the same time that home Internet service was in a phase of rapid expansion. You can see this phenomenon occurring in other formerly regional genre fandoms that had major titles drop around that time; for example, JRPGs with Chrono Trigger, and later, Final Fantasy VII.

That said, with the understanding that what being a critically and commercially successful video game franchise looked like was a fundamentally different proposition in the pre-Internet era, the king of Western computer RPGs was undeniably the Ultima franchise. Indeed, failure to fully understand the possibilities of the post-Internet era is arguably a big part of why the Ultima series lost its crown – which is ironic, given that Ultima Online was the first truly popular graphical MMO, but somehow they just couldn't stick the landing.

[mercy-burning]

A Weekend In Paradise (Summer of Sin Bonus Chapter)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: A couples' weekend vacation with Y/N, her fake boyfriend, her mom, and her real boyfriend, who also happens to be her mom's boyfriend... What could possibly be more relaxing? Category: MATURE (18+) Content: Strong language, cheating, female masturbation, kinda non-con (previously mentioned masturbation is happening while an unaware party is asleep in the same bed), fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, omorashi/piss kink, daddy kink, "little girl" nickname, car sex, grinding, brief handjob, praise, biting/marking. (This one is pure fucking filth, y'all, buckle UP LMAO) Word Count: 7k

MAIN MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

NOTE: I know summer is literally over and we're all in autumn mode, but better late than never, right? ANYWAY, it's been an absolute pleasure re-reading this series and finishing it out with more shenanigans. These two and their messy asses are always so much fun to write, and I think about them all the time. In the timeline, this chapter takes place between parts 2 and 3 of “Your Favorite” if you want to put it in sequence with the other parts :) Have fun, and thank you for being patient with me. I hope this was worth the wait!

**********

FRIDAY

The only thing warmer than the blazing sun above me, the only thing that could burn me to the greatest extent until I was nothing but a pile of ash, is the way Spencer is staring at me right now.

Mom is reading a book quietly, laying her legs over his lap as they lounge on the loveseat, and Andrew is with me on the patio, rubbing sunscreen on my limbs. Even though we're far enough apart so no one can hear any conversation from the other party, the unspoken jealousy radiating from both Spencer and I is loud enough to drown out an entire concert venue.

Maybe it's cruel, and I'll probably catch shit for it later, but I can't stop smiling. It's easy for me to imagine that it's his hands gliding over my skin while I'm staring directly at him, and he's returning said stare with so much intensity that it might as well be magically willing my bathing suit to come off. Andrew's deft fingers tease the thin string at the edge of my hip and I laugh, playfully reaching back to swat at his hand.

"They're right inside, you know..."

He gets up to look, but still feeling Spencer's red-hot gaze, I quickly turn Andrew around and kiss him deeply, cradling his face in my hands and pressing into him with a laugh.

He pulls away just enough to speak. "Well, then let's go somewhere they aren't..."

"Mmm... Might be too obvious. He's smart, he'll know something's up if we're quick to run off."

"If you're quick to run off, you mean..."

I raise an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I'm just an innocent bystander..." Andrew leans in and pecks my mouth sweetly, his voice just as gentle when he speaks. "Your only goal this weekend is to taunt him, and he knows it." Another peck. "If you run off with me this easily, you figure he'll be onto our little scheme." And another. "But if you play it right and act all inconvenienced by my... urgency..." Another kiss, this one a bit longer and definitely more sensual. "He might just feel bad enough to make it up to you later."

"You think?"

"I don't actually know. Probably." He reaches for my hands and helps me off the lounge swing, and I feel wobbly. "But what I do know is that you think too much. That man wants you so bad, he's going to find a way to spend time alone with you this weekend, whether we're making out in front of him or not. Just... Loosen up. Have a little fun."

The two of us are attached at the hip as we sneak out of eyesight from the patio screen door, and from Mom and Spencer.

"Loosen up? Do you realize how serious this situation is, Andy? One wrong move and my life is over."

"Look. I'm not judging you, and it's none of my business. But you put yourself in this situation on your own. And I'm happy to help you out, but you have to trust me. Can you do that?"

He's not wrong. I could stop this at any point, and I could've from the start if I wanted to... But I don't want to, and that's just it. I've dug the hole, and if it means getting to spend time alone with Spencer for even the smallest amount of time, I'd gladly lay down and die in it.

So. 'Loosen up and have a little fun' it is.

I take a deep breath and smile up at Andrew, patting him on the shoulder. "Yes. I can do that."

———

"I can't do it."

"Mmmmm, you and I both know that isn't true. You've come much faster under more stressful circumstances. Should be easy for you."

He's not wrong, yet I can't help but frown at Spencer's request anyway. I've been in a shitty mood all day, despite my discussion with Andrew earlier on. It's nearing nightfall, and with hardly any attention from the person I wanted it from, to say I'm now desperate is a severe understatement. There's still some time left until the two of us can properly sneak away, but even so, we have a moment alone and all he wants is to watch me get myself off in the bathroom upstairs while Mom and Andrew set the table out on the porch for a small, late dinner.

"Yeah, but you usually help me with that..."

Spencer only grins at my whining, tilting his head as he stands at the sink with his arms crossed, watching my hand at work. "If you're going to flaunt your boyfriend at me all weekend, then you're going to deal with the consequences."

"You're fucking my mom, Spencer, and you flaunt it at me every fucking day of my life... Cut me some slack."

"Aw. You're grumpy."

"Fuck you."

"You wish, don't you?"

I huff and get up off the edge of the bathtub, flipping my skirt back down and shaking my head. "You know what, forget it. If you wanna be difficult, then you can suck my dick."

"I'm not giving you what you want until I watch you come."

"Whatever."

I breeze past him and shut the door, hoping he'll follow and pull me into a bedroom and just fuck me anyway, but deep down I know he won't. He's a man of his word. It's simultaneously the best and worst thing about him.

The rest of the evening passes by slowly, which only sours my mood even more every time I look at my phone and realize that only a few minutes have passed.

I'd thought at least maybe Spencer would ease up and take the role of "Eve's Loving and Devoted Boyfriend" to the bare minimum, however that's promptly not the case. I don't know if he's doing it to piss me off and get me to cave, or if he's just over my bullshit and being his genuine, caring self to the woman he's in a relationship with... Either way, I practically feel my insides boiling over and my face burning red. I'm jealous, I'm grumpy as he so eloquently put it, and I'm so sexually frustrated that I'm seriously considering just running off to my bedroom and pulling out a vibrator, Spencer be damned. Fuck his rules, fuck his 'consequences', and fuck this whole damned weekend straight to hell.

My eyes wander to the lounge swing where Spencer and Mom are almost falling asleep, her head resting on his shoulder, and an inordinately evil image etches itself into my brain. Evil might sound harsh, but it's truly the only accurate word I could use to describe the feeling as it runs its course through my bloodstream. And when the breeze picks up and cools me off, within a mere second I realize just how insane I'd be for even entertaining it.

Even as our two groups say our goodbyes for the night, and I recount the day's failure to Andrew just before he falls asleep, I'm still going back and forth.

Loosen up. Have a little fun.

The situation at hand is decidedly not fun.

That being said, the possible look on Spencer's face after I'd do what I'm thinking? Taking his rules and throwing them in his face? That sounds fun.

My mind is already made up by the time I reach their door, gently pushing it open and letting my eyes adjust to the darkness, which isn't terribly bad to start with. There is a giant open floor-to-ceiling window that overlooks the beach, and subsequently the moonlight reflects off the water and into the bedroom. It's still dark, but not enough to where I can't see where I'm going.

Each soft step I take sends my heart rate higher and higher until I reach my destination at Spencer's side of the bed. Call it what you want, but I figure it's damn lucky that he's facing towards the room and not towards my mom, otherwise waking him up would have been a much more difficult feat.

I brush strands of hair away from his forehead and then tap him gently on the nose. I almost think it won't work, but then he shakes his head and flutters open his eyes, and that's when my heart leaps straight out of my chest.

This just became real.

There's no going back now.

He's shocked to see me standing above him, obviously, and before he can say or do anything, I put a finger to his mouth and imitate a shh with my own.

I wait for his eyesight to adjust and for him to realize what my intentions are, and right before it happens, my finger lifts from his mouth and rests on his bare chest as I balance myself, lifting my right leg to the pillow, right next to his head.

There's a deep, concerned warning in his eyes, but it dissolves the second he glances down to see that under my thin silk nightdress there's no tangible barrier between himself and my slick cunt. Even if the darkness prevents him from getting the best look, it's not a secret what I'm doing. My right hand drapes down as I start to touch myself gently, and fortunately it doesn't take long to start feeling that familiar sharp ache of desire pulsing through my lower half. Spencer's wide eyes and heavy breathing tacked on to the sheer danger I'm putting myself in to do this have made me wet in an instant.

I force myself not to think about the sleeping woman next to him and instead keep my eyes locked with his. It feels almost like a dream, like if I get distracted and lose his gaze then I will be doomed to lose it for good, and no matter how hard I try to remember it when I wake, it will be nothing but a distant feeling. The stakes right now have quite literally never been higher.

Now, there are a lot of things I'm not proud of. Helping my mom's boyfriend cheat on her is probably the biggest offender for obvious reasons. But as I've learned, sometimes those things end up being totally worth it.

Faking an orgasm also happens to be one of those things.

It's risky, I know. Spencer is the smartest person I know. It's not a stretch to believe that he could call my bluff. I also happen to be unfortunately seasoned in the art of faking orgasms (thankfully due to my time seeing men before sleeping with Spencer). The determination I have to get him to fuck me before this first night of our vacation is over is the cherry on top of my evil scheme.

So, I rock my hips into my hand, lock eyes with Spencer, and fake the fuck out of it. And thankfully, faking being quiet in this particular situation is ten times easier than faking being loud. It's a fool-proof plan.

I barely 'finish' before Spencer grabs my wrist and softly sits up in the bed. It's hard to tell what he's thinking, because his face doesn't even twitch. It almost looks like he's angry, but I have a hard time believing he would be. It could also be the concoction of desperation and anxiety coursing through my nervous system making me make that up. Either way, I know I'm going to find out very soon.

Spencer gets out of bed quietly, dragging me behind him. He shuts the bedroom door with barely any sound, and it's impressive considering he'd just woken up a few minutes ago. I suppose though, a man on a mission is a man on a mission no matter how drowsy; The moment we're down the stairs and out the back door to the porch, he's backing me up to the table where we'd eaten dinner, my legs nearly buckling before he lifts me up and sets me down on top of it.

"You're insane," he whispers, closing the gap between us just a millisecond after.

I welcome his kiss and melt into him, snaking my arms over his shoulders and wrapping my legs around his waist. He tilts his head hungrily, deepening the kiss, and I can't help but groan at the inclusion of his tongue.

"Insanely irresistible," I finally counter back when we part for air.

He kisses me again, quickly, adding, "Insanely bratty," and then he reaches down to touch the heat between my legs. I've gone long enough without it that I involuntarily drop my head back with a sigh of relief at his touch, breathing out, "Fuck, I need you..."

I half-expected him to keep bantering with me, but instead he leans forward and latches onto my neck, surely leaving hickeys behind as his fingers work inside me. It feels good, but it's not enough. I need more.

More...

I hadn't even realized I'd been breathlessly chanting the word into the air until Spencer groans and removes himself from me to pull his lounge pants down far enough to free his erection and slide into me with ease. He swallows my moan with his mouth, holding himself inside me and kissing me so deeply I can barely breathe. The cool night air sends a blanket of chills over my limbs, and for a moment in time, it's just me, him, and the ocean crashing beside us.

It's almost like we become a part of it, wave after wave of pleasure and relief passing through us with each harsh crash of water over sand. Skin against skin, tongue over lip and tooth.

We could have been out there for hours, and I wouldn't have known any different. All I know for sure is that it's me and Spencer. Just as it should be.

Even after we both reach our end, we remain still in our embrace, my limbs weak but still wrapped around him. Safe. He strokes the back of my head and kisses me lazily, drawing out every last ounce of happiness from my body and soul until he pulls away finally and I remember where we are. The situation at hand. How horrible I feel at what I'd just done in front of my sleeping mother.

God, you are so fucked up...

"You're right. I'm insane."

Spencer tenses at my words, then sighs. "I'm not any better."

"I don't know how I'm going to get through this," I confess. "I wish it was just me and you. I wish it didn't have to be this way."

"I know, Y/N..."

He doesn't say anything after that, and I don't either. Part of me wants him to reassure me that everything will be okay, but the rational part of me knows deep down that I don't deserve it. Also that it probably wouldn't even work anyway.

I'm too far into this pit of hell for any kind of redemption, and I'm just going to have to deal with it.

Which is why, when Spencer walks me up to my bedroom and gently kisses me goodnight after helping to clean me up, I simply slink away to bed and will myself to sleep, feeling completely numb despite getting exactly what I wanted.

SATURDAY

"Pancakes are done!"

I feel miles better than I did yesterday, maybe because Spencer had padded into my room early this morning to uh... Pay me back for the stunt I pulled last night. I couldn't deny the smile on my face when I woke to his body standing over mine, palming himself through his pants as Andrew slept soundly next to me.

Rather than watch him though, I quietly sat up and lent him a helping hand.

And mouth.

Whatever negativity we'd encountered yesterday had magically vanished, and now I can't help but feel like it's going to be a good day.

It also helps that Andrew made pancakes and bacon.

"These look great, Andy," Mom compliments, sitting down at the head of the table. "Better than mine."

"Nonsense," I tell her. "Yours have confetti sprinkles."

"Yes, but they're always burnt." Spencer kisses the side of her head as he stands behind her, but his eyes are on me, an evil grin on his lips. "No offense, Dear."

I want to strangle him.

"Not all of us can be masters of the frying pan... But I try."

"You do great, Mom, don't listen to him. He may know everything, but he doesn't know everything."

He feigns hurt, putting a hand over his heart and pouting, and I can't help but smile. Mom does, too, and for a moment, it feels like we can all get along without complicated feelings and desires putting a damper on our weekend.

Andrew fixes up his plate last, and when he sits down next to me, his hand finds mine under the table, tapping my palm twice—our signal for "everything good?"

I tap his back, a confirmation that for right now, I'm okay.

Breakfast is enjoyable, and I don't know what the day will bring, but I don't have any panic or dread settling in my bones, and Spencer and I aren't staring daggers into the back of each others' heads, so until that point arises again I decide to stuff my mouth with food and just revel in the calm.

Mom perks up as we're finishing the last few bites of our plates. "There's a big flea market a few towns over today, I thought we could go check it out after breakfast. It's supposed to be a nice half-hour drive along the coast, and they've got live music and tons of food."

"Mmm, sounds great, Mom," I say through a bite of food, swallowing it before continuing. "Maybe on the way back we can stop somewhere and get stuff to finish the patio."

Grandma's beach house is nice, but it's old, which means the patio screens are littered with holes and other wear and tear. Part of the reason we'd decided to come here was to make it look nice and figure out what repairs need to be done before we help her sell it, and that patio needs... Well, it needs a little more than some new screen-doors, but that was the start.

Spencer nudges my foot under the table and speaks up. "I don't do so well in the car after I eat, so I can actually stay back and start working on getting the porch cleared out and take measurements for what you need if you want to go ahead without me."

"Oh, are you sure, Honey?" Mom grabs his hand. "We can wait a little to go if you want."

"Really, it's okay. It's a beautiful morning, you should take advantage of it. I'll take the other car and meet you there in an hour or two."

"Well, okay, if you're sure. I just feel bad leaving you behind..."

He nudges me under the table again.

"I can stay and help," I offer then, suddenly feeling my chest warm up from the inside at the opportunity. Then it's my turn to do the nudging. I tap Andrew's hand under the table and look at him. "I mean, you don't mind hanging out with my mom for a bit, do you?"

I'm so glad he's quick at catching on. And I will love him forever for what he's doing for me. I make a mental note to send him gift baskets for life when he nods and gives my mom his best smile. "I don't mind at all."

I turn to Mom. "Yeah, I'll call you when we've got everything handled and then Spencer and I can just meet you guys down there." I turn to him then, hoping to make it seem more like a natural development of a last-second plan rather than an evil scheme. "If you want the company, that is. I didn't mean to intrude or anything."

He smiles. "I don't mind the help at all, but it's totally up to you and your mom."

Mom practically fawns over her boyfriend and grabs his hand with a lovesick pout, which makes me feel really bad for what we're probably about to do the second she leaves. "No, I think it'll be good for you two to spend some time together. It makes me happy to see my two favorite people getting along."

"Then it's a perfect plan for me," Spencer beams at her, kissing the back of her hand.

———

We wait until we can't see the car anymore, until it's so far in the distance that we're positive we won't be seen. Spencer wants to wait longer in case Mom decides she forgot something and needs to come back, but I know that Andrew will text me if anything happens. Spencer is right here next to me, his hand steady on my lower back as he guides me through the house.

We're alone, not doing anything yet, and it feels like torture.

So on the way to the bedroom, I squeeze his hand and depart, hoping to kill some time—to ease his mind as well as my anxiety.

"I'm gonna pee quick and then you can have your way with me, yeah?"

Spencer reaches out for my hand again, pulling me to him and not letting me go, a glint of something mischievous in his eye. It shocks and excites me simultaneously. "But I want my way with you now."

His lips are on mine, and he's backing me into the wall, picture frames gently rattling in the hallway once my back is flush to the drywall. I melt into him with a laugh.

"We have time," I tell him between kisses, trying to get away. "I'll be quick, I promise."

"No," he grunts, kissing me again, deep and earnest.

I whine at the excitement that burns in the pit of my stomach, but I also do really have to pee. "Spencer, please."

"Hold it," he demands through gritted teeth, kissing my neck and then slotting his knee between my legs.

I clench instinctively, and I can't help but test the waters. "Or what?"

"Or I can tell your mother what a bad girl you were today. So unhelpful, wasting my time and giving me back-talk. She'll be so disappointed in you."

"Wow, Spence. Threatening me with my mother, how kind of you," I retort, even though his words are undoing me. I grind down on his leg and feel my bladder pulse with need. My teeth grit when he bites down on my shoulder.

"I'm a kind man."

"Kinda mean, maybe," I whimper.

"Not really. All you have to do is hold it, pretty girl. That's all I ask."

His knee lifts higher and I moan to the air. "Fuck. Spencer, I don't think I can."

"You will."

I have a brief moment of reprieve when he drops his leg, but it doesn't last long because he brings his hand down in its place, deft fingers slipping under the band of my shorts and toying with my clit.

"That's not fair," I sigh, weaving my fingers through his hair.

He smiles, nipping at my jaw. "Aw, poor thing."

His fingers are relentless, rotating between flicking at my clit and plunging into me and spreading me apart, and it's making it extremely difficult to do what he's asking. I feel an orgasm building rather quickly, but I can't quite tell if that's just because I'm so turned on, if it's my bladder, or both. My thighs are trembling and the pressure is getting tighter.

"Fuck, I— I can't... I'm g—onna..."

The orgasm rips through me beautifully, a brand new feeling that I have to sort-of subside to keep from completely letting go all over his hand, but I can't help it. My hips cant back and forth, and I feel my shorts warm a little as I come down, and suddenly I clench my legs together, whimpering and stopping myself from continuing. The pressure hasn't let up at all, and now it's even harder to hold back.

"I'm sorry... I'm... I'm still trying."

Spencer captures my mouth in a tender, teasing kiss as he coos, "I know... You're trying so hard." His fingers glide through me softly, and then they're gone and taking my bottoms with them. The fabric falls to the floor, and soon his pants are gone, too.

"Can you hold it a little longer, sweetheart?"

"I can try," I sigh out in one quick breath, looking down and already feeling overwhelmed at the sight of his erection.

I'm not going to last long.

Spencer turns me around and bends me at the waist, using one hand to wrap around me and rub my clit as the other guides himself into me from behind.

I yelp, then groan as he fucks me hard.

My face is pressed flat against the wall, and I try to focus on that feeling instead of this new angle and all the pressure it's putting on me. I'm clenching so hard, and Spencer is loving every second.

"God I love how tight you are, trying to be good for me..."

I want to tell him to stop talking, because his words always push me over the edge, but I have to focus so hard on nothing but this goddamn wall in front of me to keep from making a mess. And with each searing thrust he throws my way, that just becomes harder and harder.

He shifts a little and hits a particularly good spot, making me yell again as I relax and start to lose control— but only for a second. I still want to try, so I clench again and whine as I feel the warm liquid roll down my leg and the beautiful burn I'm feeling.

Spencer groans and goes harder then. He wants me to break, and honestly, it might not be long until I do.

"I know you want to, little girl," he tempts, sliding his hand up to press on my bladder. "Am I making it harder for you? Huh?"

If I could punch him, I would, but I'm afraid all I can do is beg him for release, the pressure almost too much. But because I still like to make things difficult and I'm not completely fucked dumb yet, I decide to add some flare.

"Please, Daddy, can I let go?" I whine, and he pauses with one of his own. I feel his hand slide off my stomach and weave through the roots of my hair instead, pulling me up to meet him.

He whispers hotly in my ear, "If you want to act like a greedy little slut, then by all means. Go right ahead..."

It's hard to tell what his intentions are after we move on from this position, but right now, I don't really care. Because no matter what consequences come with it, it's still permission all the same, and I'm not going to last much longer anyway.

"But I'm not going to keep fucking you through it. That's on you."

There it is.

So, what?

He stays inside me, hard and pulsing with need anyway, so I rock myself back and forth on him and reach down to rub my clit as I bring myself to the edge again. I keep trying to hold it until I'm ready to orgasm, and thankfully that doesn't seem to take very long.

Within seconds, I'm coming. I feel it all with a shout, letting my body tense and release, and Spencer grabs my hips to keep me from falling over. His blunt nails digging into my skin only add to the insane pleasure that courses through my body, and then the dam breaks not long after.

I let go in small spurts, still trying to have some control over how I do this, because I still want to drive him mad. So I turn my head and try to look at him, throwing his words in his face.

"I know you want to fuck me through it, Daddy... I'm still trying to hold it for you, so you can. Please..."

"Fuck," he hisses, giving up and pushing me to the wall again. He snaps his hips back and then forward, and it takes all I am not to scream at how good it feels.

This time I really let it all go, allowing myself to relax and revel in all the sensations coursing through me. Just like I wanted, Spencer fucks me through every second of it, until I have nothing else to give but mindless whimpers of over-stimulation and gratitude.

I don't even realize I'm coming again until my body jolts with the sensation, and then Spencer follows, running his hands along the backside of my body anywhere he can reach as he does.

Once we're both tired enough, he pulls out and gently turns me around to face him. I almost whine at the loss of his warmth, but he's pressing me to the wall again and kissing me before I can protest.

I don't know how long we stand there and make out, but eventually I shiver, feeling cold and... dirty. Don't get me wrong, I definitely don't regret it, because it was hot as fuck, but... Now? In this moment, after the fact?

I pull away from him and sigh. "You should have just let me go to the bathroom. Now we gotta clean this up."

Spencer ponders for a moment, looking down between us and then back up at me before shrugging with a shit-eating grin.

"I told you to hold it. Maybe you should work on listening to me."

I punch him in the arm, and he laughs.

"In your dreams, old man."

———

Evening comes in the blink of an eye, and I swear it's the happiest I've ever been. Sneaking out of the house like a teenager in love with someone she knows is fundamentally wrong for her is probably the most accurate way to describe what's happening, though Spencer is only wrong for me in a completely different way.

All the same, no matter the reason, he makes it hard to remember why.

It feels so good—so deliciously right—after all.

And how couldn't it; I'm absolutely elated, heart beating wildly as I race down the highway with the windows all the way down. Spencer squeezes my hand, trying to let loose, but I can tell he's utterly terrified by my speed. It makes me laugh.

When I finally pull over into a small clearing some miles down a random side-road and put the car in park, he sighs. "Where are we?"

"Dunno. But it's secluded. Moonlit. Romantic."

Each word that escapes me is punctuated with a kiss on each of his fingers.

"It's... Unsettling."

I can't help but laugh again, unbuckling my seatbelt and climbing over to his lap. He shifts uncomfortably but helps me straddle him anyway, rolling the seat back as far as it can go as I tease him with neck kisses.

"Are you afraid of the dark, old man?"

He groans my name in warning when my teeth bite down on his shoulder. I know I can't mark him. It upsets me greatly, but I have to at least give myself a little taste.

So, when his hands tighten around my waist, I whine and settle for his lips. I kiss him eagerly, and by the way he's responding, any qualms about being in this "unsettling" location seem to have vanished. His hands roam my body reverently and eventually help guide my hips as they rock into him with desperate conviction.

I welcome his tongue with my own and thread my fingers through his hair, already feeling the heat of the summer air cling to my body as the air conditioning dissipates. The windows are already starting to fog.

Spencer notices my urgency and breaks apart with a hum of amusement. "What's the matter?"

"I want out of these damn clothes."

"Well, why didn't you just say so?"

I don't even have the energy to tease him back. He's giving me what I want with no obstacles other than the fabric between us, and I couldn't have asked for anything more.

It's a little difficult in such a cramped space, but eventually I am completely bare in front of him, save for my underwear. I've removed Spencer's shirt, but his slacks are still on, and I'm in the process of helping him out of them when he laughs again.

"What?" I ask, eyebrow raised.

"Nothing... I'm just surprised you even wore any underwear to begin with. Surely you knew what was going to happen tonight..."

I roll my eyes, but my smile never wavers. "Do you or do you not remember how this whole thing started? You love my underwear, and you love taking them off of me... I did this for you."

In agreement, he tenderly slips his middle finger under the seam and pulls the fabric to the side, and I nearly whine as he looks me over, the corner of his bottom lip pinched gently between his teeth. He's so fucking hot it physically hurts me. It makes me pathetic.

"Thank you, sweetheart," he finally offers, dragging a careful finger through my seam. I gasp at the sensation and feel myself start to tremble when he gently flicks at my clit. It's so featherlight, barely a touch at all, but still enough to drive me mad.

I need him. Now.

"Anything for you," I breathe, lunging forward to kiss him again. He welcomes me with fire instead of the amusement I'd almost expected from him. Usually, it's a dig at my eagerness, but tonight he's just as eager, just as needy, and the equal reciprocation has me in shambles.

It doesn't take long to find my way to him. I've finally managed to free his erection from fabric confines, and instead of fully sitting on him, I slick him up with my arousal, grinding along the length of him as he leans his head back and curses to the air. The friction is low-simmering and beautiful, and nowhere near enough to get myself off, but that doesn't matter to me right now. It just feels so good, and seeing Spencer tensing and twitching beneath me, feeling his hands tighten over my breasts as I rock back and forth... Reveling in this tension before truly giving into our carnal desires is honestly just as good as the sex itself. If I could etch this feeling, this erotic slow-burn of a moment, into my soul for all eternity, to remember in vivid detail for as long as I was alive and breathing, I would.

I'm so wet, so hot with sweat and aching with desire for this man, I can barely stand it.

My hand reaches down between us and takes him in a firm grip. I stroke him slow and tight, to which Spencer hisses, forcing himself to look down as he shakes his head.

"Fuck, you're perfect..."

The genuine praise makes me tremble again, warmth flooding my bloodstream. I start to quicken my pace, but his hand reaches down to grab my wrist.

"We have to get out of this damned car."

Before I know what's happening, he's opening the door and exposing us to the open air. He leads me outside, then opens the back door and guides me to the back seat, laying me down on my back. I lean up on my elbow to watch as he towers over me, sliding his pants all the way down and watching me with hungry eyes.

I can't help the urge that overtakes me then, readjusting my underwear again so that I'm exposed to him. Ready. Still, no teasing from him about how ready I am. There is only fire burning behind his gaze and a determination to make me feel every single flame as it dances brightly over my skin.

I can tell just by looking at him right now, barely illuminated by the moon in the open sky above us, Spencer is going to absolutely ruin me.

He comes forward and reaches down, both hands tugging at my underwear until they literally tear at the seams. The sound is so jarring and unbelievably hot that feels almost pornographic. I've never been so turned on in my life. He knows it, too, but doesn't say anything. Instead, he tosses the tattered cotton away like it's nothing at all, then proceeds to adjust me to his liking, folding my knees up to my chest and giving himself the deepest angle he can possibly get.

"Ready?" he asks, that fire in his eyes telling me he already knows the answer.

"Always," I tell him, pulling him down to connect our lips.

He pushes into me then, a steady full movement that doesn't falter even once. I take it happily, humming into Spencer's mouth as he starts to move his hips. The car gently rocks underneath me, the smallest of creaks sounding under the upholstery. Between that and the snapping of his skin to mine, the crickets chirping in the background, and the thick, heavy whirring of our breathing being so close together in this small space, it truly does feel like the perfect summer night.

This is what summers are made for. Passion. Heat. Want. Wildfire. Pure sin...

That's what it is. Spencer's teeth leaving unashamed marks on my skin when I'm not allowed to return the favor as he fucks me in the backseat of my mom's old car, nothing around us but the moon, the stars, and the sweltering summer heat... There would be time for guilt later, when we return to the beach house, and possibly even along the drive there. But for now, I don't feel guilty. I'm completely aware of my surroundings, of my situation, and yet there's not an ounce of guilt to be found anywhere in this car.

That alone is the biggest sin of all.

SUNDAY MORNING / 2 A.M. / SPENCER

My limbs are barely awake when I shuffle down the hallway and sigh heavily at the sweet promise of a deep sleep. I feel tense, but I know that's only because I have to keep my departure a secret. I won't fully know peace until my head has hit the pillow and my consciousness has drifted away for the night.

Eve is an early riser. I won't get much sleep, but the few hours I will manage to round up will be worth it. And I'll go to sleep happy.

Y/N is still all over me, which is dangerous. Her aura, her smiles and her laughter, her sighs and her pleas, her fingernails trying not to leave marks on my back even thought it's all I want—All of it is such an enormous part of who I am now, that every second I'm in Eve's presence, I start to wonder if she can feel it. I hope not, but as a man who has proudly worn and reflected the attributes of every woman he's ever loved, it's a scary thought.

So scary, apparently, that it seems to have manifested a near-heart attack. I know I'm not actually having one, but the sharp pain I feel in my chest when I open the bedroom door and find Eve, awake and sitting in bed with a distant look in her eyes, for a split second, could have fooled me.

"You're up early," I say, closing the door and walking to my side of the bed. My heart is beating so fast, my nervous system working on overload to keep up with the amount of signals and sirens that are blaring in my brain.

Eve doesn't look at me, but responds somberly. "So are you."

How long has she been awake? "Yeah. Couldn't sleep. I wanted to take a drive..."

She hesitates for a moment as I climb into bed and nudge her leg with my own.

"Is everything okay?" she asks.

No.

"Yes. I'm sorry if I worried you." I take her hand in mine, but she still can't look at me. It frightens me. "What's wrong?"

"I don't... I don't know... Something just feels weird, and I don't know what or how to explain it."

"Like... With the house?" I feign confusion, easily disguising the fear that lies underneath, and it seems to work; Eve concedes.

"No," she sighs, turning to finally look at me. Her eyes are tired, and she looks like she's embarrassed. "I don't know... I've been getting this weird feeling lately, and then you disappeared for a couple hours tonight, and I guess I just..."

She trails off, and I sigh, hoping to put her mind at ease. "Eve... You know I love you, right?" They're the right words to say, but they feel evil coming out of my mouth. They're... I don't want to say they're not true, because in some way I still do love her. But... Not how she wants me to. Not how she loves me back.

"I know," she cries apologetically, falling her head onto my shoulder with a dramatic thump. It's a mannerism that reminds me so much of her daughter, I feel another sharp twist in my gut. "I'm sorry, Spencer. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"There is nothing wrong with you," I comfort her quickly, squeezing her hand. "It's okay, I promise."

"No, it's not. It isn't fair for me to just assume you aren't happy in this relationship when you've done nothing to show otherwise, and then act all grumpy and accusatory. It wasn't right. I should have just talked to you about my... weirdness, and gotten it out of the way. I'm sorry."

"I appreciate that," I tell her. I'm relieved that she still doesn't know the truth, but my heart is still racing and I can't seem to get those damn warning sirens to quiet in my head. "Still, I'm sorry for worrying you. I wasn't tired, and it seemed like a perfect night for a quiet, mindless drive."

"Mmm, you're right," Eve agrees, leaning into me and glancing out the window. She takes a deep breath and kisses my neck, right where her daughter had been only hours before. "Next time, invite me along?"

"You got it." It's an empty promise, but it makes her happy. It keeps her unassuming.

We fall asleep together, but my dreams belong to someone else.

[paperstorm]

Feels a little like playing a kazoo as the Titanic sinks to share some silly fanfic today but maybe love is actually the most important weapon we have idk. Tags are below a cut, please tag me in your work if you post it, I want to see it 💛 This is a bit from @strandnreyes' and I's upcoming chapter of our Season 5 fic.

-

Carlos hooks a finger under TK’s chin, gently urging him back up so he can place the softest kiss to TK’s lips before guiding them carefully into the shower.

“Shit,” he says, the moment they’re in the stall, and TK follows his gaze southward and bursts into laughter a moment later as he notices they’re both still in their socks, soaking instantly in the spray.

“Ew,” TK giggles, holding Carlos’s forearm for balance as he leans down to peel the wet socks off his feet and toss them through the still-open shower door. They land with a nasty splat on the floor and Carlos laughs with him as he does the same.

Carlos slides the glass door shut. “It’s almost 1am, I think we can be forgiven for forgetting.”

“My head doesn’t have a lot of blood left in it,” TK points out, and Carlos’ eyes glint as he pulls TK back into an embrace under the warm cascade of water. It soaks through TK’s tired muscles as he’s kissed sweetly, and their quickly-hardened cocks bush together in the space between their bodies.

Carlos hums into the kiss, hands sliding down TK’s back and hands cupping his ass, nudging him in closer so their cocks slide upwards, sandwiched between their stomachs and nestled next to each other.

“Love you,” TK whispers, feeling so close to his husband in more ways than physical.

“I love you so much, babe,” Carlos whispers back, foreheads pressed together and sharing moist air in the miniscule space between them.

Arousal pulses slow and warm through TK, feeling every inch of Carlos against him. They sway almost unconsciously, foregoing actually getting clean for the moment in favor of just holding each other. TK meant it, when he’d said Carlos didn’t have to promise him to completely put away his work and his pain and his responsibilities when he comes home, but Carlos has kept the promise anyway and selfishly, TK can’t say he hasn’t enjoyed it. Carlos comes home and his phone goes into the box even as TK reminds him every time that he doesn’t have to, and they’ve spent a fantastic few nights feeling like they’re getting to know each other all over again. TK’s loved every minute of it.

Carlos breaks the embrace only to reach for the shampoo bottle. He lathers a small amount between his palms and then slides his fingers into TK’s hair, strong fingertips massaging his scalp and sending tremors of pleasure all the way down TK’s body. TK holds his husband’s hips, heart beating a little too quick in his chest while Carlos rinses his hair, soapy water sliding down his back and disappearing down the drain.

TK’s cock throbs, a heartbeat in his pelvis, as he takes the bottle from the shelf and treats his husband to the same care. He strokes his fingers through Carlos’ short curls once they’re soapy, turning them so Carlos is closer to the spray and can stand under it while TK stays close to him. Carlos’ content exhale has butterflies in TK’s stomach, as if this is the very first time they’ve bathed each other instead of a number TK’s sure must be in triple digits by now.

Carlos smiles at him, pulling TK back in for another kiss as soon as he’s free of suds. One of them hums; TK can’t be sure who it was but it reverberates between their chests.

“Hey, um,” he begins.

“Yeah?”

TK drags the tip of his nose along Carlos’ cheek. “I know it’s late. But.”

“It’s Saturday tomorrow,” Carlos reminds him, palms pressing to the small of TK’s back. Just the tip of one finger plays along the crease of his ass and the touch, miniscule as it may be, has TK’s pulse jumping. “And you’re working nights.”

“Right.”

“Tell me what you want,” Carlos murmurs.

“‘Member what we talked about the morning of our anniversary?” TK asks. “You just … staying in me? For a while?”

Carlos breathes out between them. He rubs their noses back and forth. “Yeah.”

“I love the feeling of you,” TK says softly. He knows he likely doesn’t need to convince Carlos to give this to him, but he wants to say it anyway. Carlos deserves to know how loved he is. “When you’re right up against me and pressing on all the good spots inside and I can feel your heartbeat. And we’re not two separate people anymore.”

“Baby,” Carlos whispers, sounding overwhelmed.

“Please?”

“Yes, yes, of course. Anything you want. Everything you want.”

“I want you. Always, every bit of you.”

“M’gonna start crying if you don’t stop being so mushy,” Carlos teases, sounding very much like he doesn’t really mean it.

Tagging @theghostofashton @birdclowns @reyesstrand @strandnreyes @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut

@carlos-in-glasses @actual-sleeping-beauty @thisbuildinghasfeelings @herefortarlos @heartstringduet

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@fifthrideroftheapocalypse @butchreyes @just-inside-her @firstprince-history-huh @captain-gillian

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@carlossreaders @ladytessa74

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