#I need a damn edible or something my god

[suntomemp3]

Me after watching s7 ep19 of law and order svu because what a fucking doozy

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

wildest dreams - m. murdock

a/n: i have literally not been inspired for two weeks then i was STRUCK with the urge to write this. guys. i am so proud of this one i am not even going to lie. this one is dedicated to @bunmurdock because i am literally always thinking about professor murdock.... i really hope you guys enjoy this one, because i enjoyed writing it :) warnings: SMUT! inappropriate dynamic, P in V smut, so much cursing, lots of inappropriate thoughts and pining, power dynamics, dirty talk, reader does an edible and is high for a small part of this fic, reader isn't stupid in this one! she is just horny! she is also deaf, and there is yapping of readers daddy issues word count: 6.3k likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! <3 summary: you have a huge crush on your professor and spend many days desperate for him. pairing: professor!matt murdock x hoh!reader now playing: wildest dreams - taylor swift (taylor's version) "i said, "no one has to know what we do"/his hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room"

You could treat him better than any of these other horny grad students.

Seriously, that is your only conscious thought watching this man move around the front of this lecture center. You’re not dumb, you know everyone sitting here wants him—Those who are attracted to men want to fuck him and those who aren’t seek his approval. But you are built different, you’re also lacking a major sense, besides, your brain runs ramped with disgusting thoughts about the man.

Today’s focus is on the man’s outfit. It’s his last class of the day, and it shows. His clothes are a bit more wrinkled, and his hair is messier than it had been when he started the day. But most importantly, his jacket is thrown on the back of his chair, meaning you have a phenomenal view of his torso.

He wears a white button down, with the cuffs of the arms rolled up to just below his elbows, the bottom of the shirt tucked into the waistline of his pants. The shirt is tight, maybe a little too tight, especially around the arms. Maybe it’s because he works out. Or at least, you assume he works out.

That brings us to his tie. Oh, his tie. It’s nothing special—a pure black tie, just hanging from his neck. Your mind wanders. It starts at the dissection of a key court case in the subject of minimum wage, but from there, it starts drifting to his tie.

You think about the tie moving back and forth above you as he thrusts into you, brushing against your face, pulling on it to bring him closer. You think about that soft half chuckle he does, before he says something dirty like—

“Did you have something to add?” His voice right in front of you snaps you out of your trance. Fuck. You were not paying attention.

“Uh, No, Professor..” Your face is a deep red, embarrassed. You wish you could take off your hearing aids to stop listening to all the giggling from around you, from peers who are thrilled that Professor Murdock’s little (not-so) secret admirer got called out for her staring.

“Hm,” he taps the table in front of you, “Then I want you paying attention.” He says, before going back to his lecture. You could die right there. Everyone is laughing at you. He embarrassed you.

Okay, so you have no proof that he’s ever wanted you in the way that you’ve been so god damn desperate for him, but it’s still crushing that he’d single you out in that way. That maybe while you were increasingly needy for him, he found you fucking annoying, in such a way that he felt the need to embarrass you in front of your peers.

You want to melt—Melt into a puddle with just your boots and your hearing aids left behind so you never have to face him ever again. That’s why you’re so relieved when he dismisses class right on time (Well, right on time for him. He always ends class five minutes early to leave room for questions) and you quickly gather your things.

Because of the sheer level of embarrassment he has caused you, the other students in the class who want him try to flock to him, sensing that you no longer have the confidence to engage with him—But your desire is still there, as you messily shove your things into your backpack. You turn when you’re finished, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

Your face is still flushed, part because you’re embarrassed, part because you are out of breath from rushing. But you are faced with the view of your professor, all alone. Your breath hitches when his hand moves up to the top of his tie, as he smooths it out, running his fingers down the fabric.

“I read your essay on the expectations of the courts and law versus the realities of it. I loved it. The argument using Gideon versus Wainwright to justify the existence of the right to counsel as a civil right and not a liberty was fascinating, especially considering your other arguments about how race, class and gender play into those realities. Well done. I thought it was some of your best work.”

Your face is flushed for a new reason now. Wasn’t this the same man who was mad at you for not paying attention?

“I thought so too.” You confess, and he just smiles. He loves that you’re confident in your work. You’ll make a great lawyer one day.

“Oh, and,” He digs through his leather satchel to pull out some notes, running his finger over the folder tab to make sure he has the right folder, “Here are the printed copy of our notes from the last few lectures.” It’s part of your accommodations that professors give you a copy.

“Thanks, Professor.” You smile gently, reaching out to take the papers. Your hands meet and as you grip the notes, the tips of your fingers just barely brush against his. Neither of you say anything. Neither of you let go.

“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you today.” He starts, “But you’re bright—Smarter than most of your professors, I bet. And I don’t want you to fall behind.” He says softly, and without saying it, you know he’s worried because of your hearing. He was disabled in law school once upon a time, and he recognizes your potential.

“It’s okay.” You say softly, softer than your voice usually is. “I get it, really. It won’t happen again.”

“Good.” He says gently, letting go of the papers now. As you clutch them close to your chest, his hand goes back up to mess with his tie again. Does he know what he’s doing? Does he know how wild it drives you? He must. “I’ll see you on Thursday.”

“See you on Thursday.” You agree, and that’s when you leave the classroom.

As the door closes behind you, he listens intently. He hears your nervous heartbeat, could practically feel the heat radiating off you. But he knows your routine by now. You’re about to start playing music, and he likes knowing what sort of mood you’re in as you leave his class.

A smile spreads across his face when he hears the opening notes of that new Hozier song, ‘Too Sweet’.

• • •

You are a straight A student. You study days in advance for exams, you write elaborate study guides and most of all, you do not miss class, unless you are dying (no, seriously, the last time you missed class you were rushed to the hospital, sick with pneumonia after a big exam, which you aced). So, when you’re not in Matt’s class on Thursday, he tries not to panic.

You’re a grown woman, he tells himself, and he doesn’t have an attendance policy, having told the class on syllabus day that he trusted them to know when to come to class and when they should go lay in the sun or stay home with a bad cold.

But you once came to class doped up on cold medicine with a mask on, just because you didn’t want to miss any important information. He heard it before you got to class, so he faked a family emergency to cancel class early that day. He could hear your rattled sigh of relief as the other students flooded out.

And he knows for a fact you didn’t show up today because of how fucking loud you are; You don’t mean to be, but he can hear the light buzzing of your hearing aids, and you wear these big work boots that stomp even when you’re trying to step lightly. And he heard neither buzzing nor stomps today.

Oh, your boots. He’s spent years with everything being too loud, but he just can’t help but think about the boots—What color were they? What were their texture? He has this fantasy that lives at the very back of his mind of putting you in heels, heels too big for anyone let alone a girl who only wears clunky work boots, that way he would have to help you, take care of you, and it is a fantasy that will probably live at the back of his mind until he dies.

Sure, he’d probably get married, settle down with someone his age and never worry if she might be dissatisfied with an older man, and she’ll be quiet. No hearing aids, no big boots. They’ll have kids, they’ll be happy together. He’ll still go to you when he can’t sleep, and no one will ever know.

Wait, what was he doing? Oh, right. You weren’t in class today.

His fingers move over the keyboard to look you up in the system. He clicks on the audio assistant to read him your information. It reads out your first and last name, middle initial, then your grade in his class (A+), your accommodations (Notes, time and a half, things like that), your birthday, and—

Wait, he takes a moment, and his fingers go over to his braille calendar, realizing that you’re taking a day off because it’s your birthday. A laugh escapes his lips, because how silly was he being?

His fingers move again to find your email address. He debates for a moment before adding the subject line, “Absence Today.” Then, he erases it and changes it to, “Class Today”, hoping you wouldn’t freak out before reading the email.

And just for a moment, he lets himself dream. He writes the following email to you,

“Hey, sweetheart—

Happy Birthday. I’m so happy you’re taking a break, you deserve it, more than anyone else I know. Are you doing something fun for it? Going out and getting wasted? Hooking up with some college guy who couldn’t fuck you properly?

If I could, my birthday gift to you would be a day spent with my face buried between your pretty thighs, although that might be a birthday gift to me and not to you. I’ve always been a selfish man, and you seem to be something I am entirely selfish about. I want your hands tangled in my hair, tugging on it as I taste you. I want you all to myself. I didn’t hear the buzzing of your hearing aids or the clunking of your boots, and I felt this striking yearning.

I can’t stand being around you without having you. It’s torture.

Happy Birthday,

Matthew.’

He thinks about it for a minute, before completely erasing the email, and sending you this one instead:

‘Missed you in class today! We went over the reading for Chapter Seven. Happy Birthday! Professor M’

He sends it, and then rubs his face, a long sigh leaving his lips. He is completely enamored by you, and it is so unfair.  You’d be in class on Monday, he told himself. He’d see you then, and it would be like getting his fix of you.

Then, he turns to the distraction of trying to grade papers. It won’t work. He’ll still have you on his mind all day, and there will be no relief in sleeping. Hopefully he’ll dream of that long day between your thighs.

• • •

Truth be told, you were not drinking and fucking some random guy when Matt emails you. You were cuddled up in bed, giggling and eating snacks, so many snacks, because, well, you took an edible with a bunch of your friends and now are high out of your mind.

Some animated shows are on in the background, and when your phone buzzes, you pick it up and almost melt when you see the email from your favorite professor. You start giggling like a kid, your fingers clutching your phone as you read the email over and over again.

One friend looks up to you from her place on your floor and asks, “Are you alright?”

You don’t answer at first, but then you nod, and pull your blanket close, imagining Matt’s arms around you. Your brain paints you a picture of him holding you against his chest and gently playing with your hair.

It’s a nice fantasy.

• • •

For being a law student, you really fucking hate it sometimes. Okay, that’s not true. You love being a law student and are so excited to go out into the world and make that difference. But you’d be lying if you don’t sort of contemplate dropping out and getting a sugar daddy over certain assignments.

Maybe Matt is in the market. Then you shake your head to get the thought out of there, before opening your laptop to check your professor’s office hours. The one that assigned this assignment is an old bat who does not have office hours except for during your other classes on Fridays.

Then, you look at Matt’s office hours. He has office hours right now. You click the pen in your hand a few times, thinking. Contemplating. Would he want to see you at this point? Would you be able to control yourself?

You give the question you’re working on one more time before you lean down and grab your boots, starting to lace them up. Then, you pack up your bag, heart beating nervously over what—Asking him for help with an assignment?

You make it all the way across campus, the whole time worried about if you’ll walk in on your professor with some other girl. You almost laugh at that thought, because you think you’re silly for how dramatic you are about the man.

You stand down the hallway from his office for a few minutes, just contemplating. You could just turn around and not at all open the possibility of being around him, and everything stays the same. Nothing changes, and your relationship with your professor maintains it’s strictly professional relationship.

You walk towards the door, knocking on it before holding your breath.

“Come on in,” He calls from behind the door. Now or never. You open the door, and smile in his direction.

“Hey, professor,” You greet, a soft smile on your face. His tie is loose around his neck. You blink away whatever daydream your brain wants to dive headfirst into.

“Hey,” He greets, “I don’t think you have any assignments due, so what’s up?” He asks, tilting his head in your direction. As you think about it, you realize that you do not need help with an assignment.

“This is going to sound like a lie. But I had trouble with this assignment earlier, and suddenly I walked in here and realized I knew exactly what I was doing. I’m sorry for bothering you.” You explain, but you make no attempt to turn around and leave.

“Let me guess,” He starts, gauging by what year and academic proficiency you’re at, “Professor Reid’s estate planning class? That assignment about the will and testament of an old lady with a marriage less than 90 days and estranged kids?”

You groan and take a seat in one of the chairs in his office. He laughs in response, shaking his head.

“That old bat.” You roll your eyes. He just smiles and shakes his head.

“You’ll be fine. Just remember to cheat on your final.” He tells you, and you give him a perplexed look.

“What?”

“Well, for the final, there’ll be a question about a super niche argument on inheritance. Just cheat on it.”

“You’re a professor, telling me to cheat?”

“I cheated on it,” He shrugs. You suddenly remember that he used to go to school here and has taken all the classes you’re struggling with right now.

“You’re being unprofessional.” You tell him, and he smiles again. Your heart skips a beat, and somehow, his smile grows. As if he knows exactly what sort of effect he has on you. As if this is all a game he likes to play with you, his eager and willing participant.

“Okay, forget that I told you to cheat on Reid’s exam. We have to talk about something, it would be awkward to just sit here in silence. Uh, what did you major in in undergrad?”

“English. I minored in Disability studies.”

“So why Law?” He asks curiously, leaning forward and clasping his hands together, before resting them on his desk. Jesus Christ.

“I’m tired of being poor.” The answer slips out before you can really stop yourself. He laughs again, and something in you stirs. As if making him laugh is the newest way you feel good about yourself. How twisted is that? “I’m being serious!” You laugh too, unable to contain it.

“I’m sure,” he promises, “I grew up poor too, I was sick of it too. But if you’re going to be a lawyer—”

“You need to have respect for the law and the people taken advantage by it,” You finish, “I get that, really, I do. And I want to help people. I want to go into divorce law and help all the poor and battered women like—” You’re forgetting yourself. You’re forgetting that this isn’t a date and that this man is your professor.

“Like..?” He prods you to finish, curious. He is on the edge of his seat about you. This is more than he has gotten of you in the past few weeks you’ve been taking his class.

“Like my mom.” You finish suddenly looking for something to do with your hands. Anything, really. “But the check that comes with it isn’t exactly deterring me, you know?”

“I get that,” he says earnestly, “I was an orphan, one of those dirty scrappy ones you feel bad for,” he does that half chuckle that makes you want to go over there and kiss him. “Never knew my mom, and my dad died when I was young. So, I get it. Being poor and wanting to do better for yourself. For your parent who sacrificed for you.”

But it clicks for him, the hidden meaning behind your ambitions. You have daddy issues, and he can tell that’s part of your crush on him. Though, he’ll never say it to you. He’ll let it be something unspoken between the two of you.

“Yeah, I guess you do get it.” You smile softly. But this is dangerous. So so dangerous. The two of you are dancing this dangerous line��Well, more like you’re damn well dancing clear over the line and ignoring it. But you don’t know how to stop it. Maybe you don’t want to stop it.

“Well, uh, maybe you could finish that assignment while we’re here.” He clears his throat, straightening his tie and you try to connect the wires in your brain to focus on the assignment. You pull it out of your bag and place it on his desk, smoothing it out a bit. Matt gets up and starts to wander around the office, and you look at him curiously. “I think better when I can move around.”

You should’ve known that much, you have stared at him doing lectures, wandering from end to end of the rows and rows in the classroom.

“Yeah, totally,” You nod, focusing on the assignment. It’s on paper, the old bat refuses to use online assignments. You’re practically flying through the assignment, and it’s at the point where you are forgetting your company. In fact, you really don’t notice him.. Until you lean back and stretch, jumping when you realize that Matt has taken a spot right behind you, his hands on the arms of your chair, leaning forward. You’re practically leant up against him.

“See? Was that so hard?” Your face flushes, his voice right next to your ear. He has to know; he has to know how you’re affecting him. You tilt your head a bit, and your eyes are level with his chin. His stubble moves as he sets his jaw. He doesn’t smell much like anything… except the faintest hint of clean sheets and this slight scent of mahogany. It would go perfect with a whiff of whiskey.

“No,” you say quietly, and he almost shudders at the feeling of your warm breath against his cheek. “Not at all, Prof—”

“Call me Matt.” It’s almost begging. You’re kind of into it, but that’s not surprising given how incredibly attractive you find him.

“Okay.” You say quietly. He has reduced you to one-word answers. The two of you stay quiet for a while. You’re unsure what to say. Matt is contemplating his options. Anyone could walk in on the two of you like this. The door isn’t locked, and you want to bring this up, but the words die out in your throat. His head tilts a bit towards you, and you get a glimpse at those perfect lips of his.

“You know—” He starts, but before he can get any farther, you lean in and kiss him. You kiss him intensely, your hand on his cheek, and for once, you are not filled with regret at a bad decision. He doesn’t react at first, and for just a second, you’re nervous.

Then, He kisses you back, letting out this deep hum as he deepens the kiss. He tilts his head to get deeper into your mouth, and his hands make their way down to your hips. He focuses for a second, before wrapping his arms around you to pick you up and sitting you on his desk.

His hands trail down as the pair of you kiss, landing on your thighs. His fingers rub back and forth, and you gasp when he squeezes your thighs. He grins and takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your clunky boots hit against his desk and he practically growls at the sound. He pulls away, his teeth biting your bottom lip as he does.

You’re completely out of breath, and so is he. He stumbles back a bit, his lips swollen and bright pink from kissing you. He wipes his mouth as he pants, and inhales deeply. You run your fingers through your hair, brushing the hair that has fallen onto your face.

“We..” he mumbled gently, running his hand over his chin. “Holy shit, kid—”

“Don’t call me kid—”

“Listen,” he goes over to you and brushes the hair from your face, “That was.. it was phenomenal, but someone could’ve walked in on that, and.. Fuck, if we do that again, I won’t be able to keep my hands off you.” he confesses, his hands on your cheeks.

“When I was staring off into space last week, I was thinking about your tie.” You tell him, your hands are finding the base of it now. He tilts his head, curiously.

“What were you thinking about?”

“Was daydreaming about it brushing against my face as you fuck me.” You could swear his face is red. You grin.

“Yeah?” He laughs, taking the tie from you and bringing the tie up to brush against your cheeks, “Like that?” he teases, and you laugh back. Dick.

“Mhm,” You giggle, and your hands find his, wrangling the tie out of his hands, and tugging on it, before bringing him in for another kiss. He inhales deeply as he kisses you, taking the taste of you in for a moment before pulling away.

“I’m serious, sweetheart, this is dangerous.”

“Sweetheart?” You grin. He takes your chin and grips it between his thumb and pointer finger.

“Hey. Pay attention.” He says, and you want to argue that saying things in that low gravely tone will not help you pay attention, but you can tell he’s serious. That he wants your attention focused on him, this is important. “Listen. I like you. I like you a lot, but we have to be careful if we want any of this to go further. We have to be subtle and watch our steps.” He says softly.

“Okay.” You promise, “Okay, we should be careful.” He smiles gently and leans in to kiss your forehead.

“Good pup.” He hums, and your face flushes.

“I like ‘pup’.” You like sweetheart too, but your stomach flips when he calls you pup.

“Yeah, I know you do.” He grins. “Wanna get out of here?”

“I thought you said we have to be careful.”

“Okay, then I’ll give you my address and you can come over.” He shrugs. “I know how badly I need you, I can only imagine how you feel.” He hums, and you grin.

“Okay, Here, give me your phone.” Matt fishes his phone out of his pocket and hands it to you. You put your number in with your name, sending yourself a quick text before handing the phone back to him. “There. Send it to me.” He steps back so you can hop off the desk, before putting your homework back in your bag.

As you sling your bag over your shoulder, he grabs your wrist in his hand and pulls you close, just to kiss you again.

• • •

Your hands are shaking as you drive over to Matt’s apartment. You’re so full of desire for him, and you take a second after parking the car to adjust your hair and makeup. Luckily you had no plans with your friends so it’s not like you’re hiding anything from anyone.

Are you about to sleep with the professor you’ve had a crush on since the beginning of the semester? Hopefully. You take a quick glance down to the apartment number he sent you before climbing out of the car, locking it behind you.

Then, you manage your way through the building, finding yourself in front of his door for the second time tonight. You hesitate. Though, you’re not sure why. Well, maybe you do. Maybe you’re terrified that this is going to be bad. Or maybe that you’re scared you’ll be bad, and he’ll hate you.

Maybe you just need to get over yourself. Although, you can’t really do much more convincing because Matt swings open the door and grins at you. You almost die at the sight of him. His tie is gone, and his shirt is unbuttoned by three buttons.

“You’re so hot,” You blurt out as you hand him a cheap bottle of wine you picked up on the way here.

“You’re cute,” he hums, grabbing your arm and pulling you into the apartment, leaving you giggling as he closes the door behind you. You look around his apartment, your eyes catching on the giant billboard. You’re standing in front of the window when he comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. His lips gently kiss your neck, up and down, biting your shoulder gently. “Enamored by the billboard, sweetheart?”

“Your windows are so big, probably a lot of light in here during the day.” You say softly, and he smiles against your neck.

“Mhm, one day, I’ll fuck you against those windows—”

“Matt,” You groan, but he just shushes you and kisses your neck again.

“I know, pup,” He hums, “But don’t worry, I’ll show you a very nice time, hear all those pretty noises you can make for me.” You blush, turning to say something to him but he wraps his arms around your waist again, before throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you to his room. You’re laughing all the way there, before throwing you onto the bed.

“Mean.” You accuse, but he shrugs.

“You’ll get over it, sweetheart, I promise.” He hums, and you sit up on his bed. He stands between your legs, leaning down to kiss you gently, his hands finding your cheeks again. He kisses you like this for a few minutes, before slowly kneeling in front of you, never breaking the increasingly sloppy kiss. You pull away from the kiss to study him. He tilts his head, his hands finding your thighs to rub them again as he did in the office. “What?” he asks gently.

“I spent all those lectures only being able to study you from a far.. Just let me really look at you for a while..” You request. He grins gently as your fingers run over his stubble again. Your hands move up to his glasses. “Can I take these off?” You request, tilting your head.

Matt hesitates, just for a second. He’s not really used to it, to someone truly wanting to see him, every part of him. But he trusts you, wants you to see him. So he nods, letting out a soft ‘yeah’ as you pull off those circular red glasses, gently folding them and setting them down somewhere safe.

Then, you take a good, long look at his eyes. They’re this deep brown, almost black, irises that are drop dead gorgeous. The skin around his eyes is scarred, but the scars are old, yet, you rub your thumb gently against that scarred skin. You lean in and press a kiss to the corner of his eyes, first the left one, then the right one.

He leans up and kisses you after that, his hands slowly making their way down your legs. Your hands find his buttons of his shirt starting to undo them. He pulls away from the kiss, before slipping off his button up, throwing it away somewhere in the room. Your eyes drift down to these scars on his collarbones, and your fingers run over them. Then, you notice other scars on his skin, and your hands find those too.

“Your boots are so loud,” he hums, and you’re taken back by it.

“What?”

“Your boots.” He hums, “I hear you stomping around with these things on, they’re.. Like a bell, you know? I like knowing you’re around.” His fingers go down to the laces of your left boot, slowly untying them. Then, he does the same with the right boot.

He pulls off your boots, before running his fingers over your socks.

“They’re multicolored. Bright and patterned.” You confess, and he grins, before pulling them off. Then, he stops, realizing you have another pair of socks on. He blinks, before starting to laugh.

“You have two pairs of socks on?” he chuckles, your face flushing.

“My boots are just a little too big!” You tell him, and he laughs, resting his head against your thigh. He finishes taking your socks off, before working on the buttons of your jeans. When he finally gets those undone, he pulls off your pants, throwing them somewhere close to his now abandoned shirt. His hand comes up to rub you through your panties, and he lets out a scoff as he does.

“So wet for me, pup..” He mumbles, coming up to gently kiss your cheeks and then your jaw, as you whine. “I know, baby, I know,” he says softly, rubbing your clit gently. You whine gently at the feeling, gripping his wrist. He chuckles softly, kissing you to shut you up a bit.

He pulls his hand away from your throbbing cunt to pull off your tee shirt, throwing it wherever. He starts to kiss you as you fiddle with the buttons of his pants and pull them off, letting him step out of the before he casts them away.

You grin into the kiss, before he pulls away.

“What? What’s got you so giddy, pup?” he asks, a grin on his face too.

“Briefs,” You hum, fiddling with the waistband of his briefs, and he laughs, shaking his head.

“Thinking about your professor’s underwear?” He teases, leaning in to bite your neck. “Dirty, dirty girl.” He grins, and you swat at his shoulder, which causes him to laugh. He likes having fun with you, even if it’s not inherently sexual.

His hands come up to run gently over your skin, trailing from your hands up to your shoulders, and then all the way to your ears, where his fingers gently run over your hearing aids. It’s a nice gesture, really, but as soon as his fingers brush over your hearing aids, you immediately retract, the feedback shooting through your skull, uncomfortably.

“Ow—” You cringe, leaning your head back to try and get away from his fingers. He cringes, hearing the feedback, not as badly as you do but knowing it’s there and that you’re in pain pains him.

“I’m sorry,” he coos softly, his fingers moving down to cup your jaw. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I hadn’t realized—”

“Hey, it’s okay,” You hum, tilting your head to kiss his palm gently. “It happens, It’s why you should never touch them while I have them on.” You shrug. He leans down and kisses your stomach a bit, before going back to kiss you again, deepening the kiss a bit before roughly shoving you back on the bed. You giggle as he climbs on top of you, caging you in between his legs, as he slips his tongue into your mouth again. He kisses you with passion and need, and it drives you entirely too wild. As he pulls away, one hand comes up to grip your chin, before he leans down with his head against yours.

“Want me to fuck you, pretty thing?” He asks gently, his voice sweet as honey as he talks so obscenely to you. You whine, finally getting what you want after weeks and months of waiting. He just smiles and shakes his head, “No, no, puppy, you gotta say it to me.” He requests.

“Yes, I want you..” You groan, bucking your hips a bit at the thought of him finally fucking you.

“Want me to do what?” he asks, innocently.

“Want you to fuck me, please..” You request, and this finally seems to satisfy him. His hand comes down to unhook your bra, throwing it behind him with the rest of your clothes, before his lips begin to travel downwards, kissing down your jaw and neck, before he’s kissing the valley of your breasts, his hand going down to rub your clit again.

He groans against your skin at the feeling of your wetness soaking through your underwear and listening to your moans. His hands begin to work to take off your panties, and as soon as those are gone, your hands come up to his briefs, wanting them gone.

“Off, off, off—” You huff, and he laughs as he slips them off. Then, he reaches over and grabs a condom from the bedside table, but you grab his hand, shaking your head, “No, no—I’m on the pill, promise.”

“You sure?” He asks gently, and you nod, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips.

“Sure.” You nod, and then you’re kissing him again, your hand going down to stroke his cock, and he gasps into the kiss, before chuckling. He pulls away to mutter out to you--

“Needy girl,” he purrs, before moving to kiss you again. As you’re kissing, he slips his cock into you, and you moan into the kiss, tensing at the feeling, “Relax for me, pup.. So fucking tight for me.” He groans, his hand coming down to swat your thigh. “Relax.” He tells you, his voice sterner this time.

You nod, trying to form a more conscious thought than the pure bliss you feel, your hands wrapping around his neck, scratching down his back a bit. He groans softly, as he starts to slowly thrust into you. He is using every ounce of self-control he has, resisting the urge to absolutely violate you.

But he’s trying to be gentle, be nice.

“Faster,” You gasp out, your fingers pulling on the hair at the nape of his neck. He does that half chuckle, and it makes you whine as he begins to speed up.

“Beautiful little pup..” he says lowly, “Been staring at me.. Wanting your professor so badly these past few weeks, dirty little thing,” he hums, “Fuck, so.. fuck..” Your legs are beginning to shake the longer and harder he thrusts into you. “So fucking good for me..” You whine into his lips as they crash into yours, one hand going down to rub your clit gently, the stimulation too much for someone who hasn’t had sex this good, ever, but especially because you haven’t had sex at all in the past.. well, six or more months.

“Matty, ‘m..” You can barely get the words out as he fucks you harder,

“I know baby, come on, cum for me, pup,” he coos, his thrusts nor rubbing slowing down, maintaining his pace. Within a minute, you’re coming with loud moans into his ears, and he’s following suit shortly after, coming deep inside you.

But for the few minutes after the two of you finish, he continues his thrusting, relishing in the pretty moans and the sound of his deep thrusts into you. Eventually, he slows down, remaining deep inside of you. He pulls you close, kissing you deeply before flipping the pair of you over, and holding your legs close to stay buried deep inside of you.

For a few minutes, there are no words spoken, just deep, frantic pants and sweaty skin against each other.

“You know, that was as good as I’ve been fantasizing about for weeks.” You pant, “Better, even..” He laughs and nods.

“Me too..” he kisses you softly. “Let me take you out somewhere.”

“I thought we had to be careful..”

“We’ll go away somewhere then. Just the two of us for the weekend. I need to be with you, I can’t get enough of you now that I’ve had a taste.. Besides, I haven’t even eaten you out. Now that, that is going to be fun.” He grins, and you swat his arm.

“Evil, mean man!” You gasp, and he just laughs, kissing your forehead.

“I’m sorry, pup, let me make it up to you,” he hums.

“How?”

“Calling you pup a few times, ordering Thai food and teaching you how to suck me off?”

“I know how to suck you off,” You scoff.

“Oh yeah?” He tilts his head, leaning in to kiss him. Then, lips still against yours, he whispers, “Prove it, pretty puppy.”

[anouchard]

Malevolent Liveblog: Episode 12

HELLO THERE.

Spoilers under the cu(l)t ...

To your right. Take the door now y'all.

Lighter. I'm sure this will never mean anything.

"Anything look ... edible?" Get this man a proper meal, please.

MUSIC

LAUGHTER. I LOVE his laugh.

I am sure the ornate mirrors will not come back to haunt us in any way.

Gosh, I forgot how immersive this podcast was from the very beginning.

Laundry chute?

"Damn" indeed.

Oh I forgot about the paper! What's the deal with that?

Phonograph? Ooh.

KELLIN.

Wait ... this doctor is Harlan?

That genuinely never registered, but ofc it is.

Harlan, how did you do this one? Harlan.

The King in Yellow!

Aaaaand cue the music.

Ohhhhhhh boy. Oh. Oh?

"See yourself framed in gold"? DO NOT GO BACK TO THE MIRRORS.

The DREAD I feel.

Getting closer ...

NO. DO NOT.

Harlan, how do you know that mirror horror is my worst nightmare. How. It is up there with eye horror. How dare you.

TUNNEL

"You first" I HAVE JUST REALISED WHY THAT IS FUNNY.

Uh, down we go.

"This isn't a mine".

"Then it's a secret we need to see". ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THAT.

"To the keenest form of fascination".

CARCOSA? IS THAT YOU??

(This gives me chills. So many chills. John's description and tone is WONDERFUL).

CRASH. Well, that went well.

WE ARE HOME.

Very Lemony Snicket vibes here.

The city has eyes? THE CITY HAS EYES??

Ohhhh the vocal shifts. Lovely.

Lantern? River? Very Underworld.

No paddles? Something in the water? This feels like we are about to meet Gollum, folks.

"We're moving ... slowly".

Of course there's something down there. Of course there is.

The vibes are IMMACULATE.

"Do fish swarm?" Not the time, Artie.

NOPE NOPE NOPE

"Arthur lie back down" ugh.

"ARTHUR ARE YOU MAD". Yes but maybe that's how he survived.

"It's over" ahahahahahahahahaha.

Anaesthetic? That was considerate.

John being speechless is ... well.

CASSILDA???

WHAT SHALL WE DO WITH THE KING IN YELLOW WHAT SHALL WE DO WITH THE KING IN YE-

Is this Yhtill? Alar? Carcosa?

"You're here with me, John, and I need you. We're a team".

Oh of COURSE there's a corpse.

OH GOD

Large yellowish egg?

"I know this place".

Adore this. All of this.

"Are you willing?" Oooft.

AMPITHEATRE YES

Ah yes, the horror of being Known.

"You've come a long way to become whole again".

Oh boy oh boy oh boy

"Promise nothing will happen to him".

Ahahahahahahahaha YES

This is one HECK of a finale.

"My face is ... my own, once again ... I am The King in Yellow." Chills.

Piano.

"Faroe?"

OH HEY KING.

"Every instance of you is being erased." And yet he holds on.

HEY JOHN.

Oh ...

Aaaaaaand SCENE.

[cedarspiced]

PSA for THC and CBD users:

you can, in fact, overdose on THC or CBD, contrary to popular belief. it's especially easy to do if you're already on a medication that messes with your serotonin levels (SSRIs, SNRIs, etc.). it's even easier to do if you're on an SNRI and also have bad chronic pain that you're trying to manage via CBD and edibles (hi, that's me!).

i found this out the hard way last weekend by using too much of a CBD tincture in combination with having an edible, and had to be rushed to the hospital with serotonin syndrome.

how did it feel? well, not great. i genuinely felt like i was actively dying and needed to get my affairs in order.

i'm going to talk in detail about my experience below the cut. if you don't wanna read all that, i do ask that you please at least look through this link if you use cannabis products.

before i go on, i want to be very clear that the symptoms of serotonin syndrome are different for everyone. the link above has a more complete list of symptoms. i'm going to be describing my own personal experience with it.

the first signs that something was very wrong were the severe anxiety and confusion (both of which i chalked up to just being high at first).

then came the tremors and rapid heartbeat. i couldn't stop trembling. i spilled my tea everywhere when i tried to pick it up because i was shaking so badly.

by the time i got to the ER, i was fighting hard not to pass out, because i felt like if i did, i wasn't going to wake up. my skin was so hot it felt like i was on fire, and my heart felt like it was going to explode from how fast it was beating.

they wheeled me into a bare, grey room with nothing in it aside from a window with blinds, a black plastic chair, and a single bed. they asked me to put on scrubs and grippy socks. they gave me an anti-anxiety medication. and then all they could do for the next 6 hours was monitor me.

once the edible and CBD oil wore off about 4 hours in, i began to feel less like i was on my deathbed. definitely, absolutely not back to normal, but better.

i'm used to full body pain, but this was something else. if you've ever wondered what it would be like to be put through a meat grinder full of salt and lemon juice while staying alive through the whole thing, i'd imagine that was pretty damn close. i'm not sure if that's caused by the serotonin syndrome itself, or if that was just my body making sure i was still alive, but by god it was not fun.

i'm ok now, but i've decided that i'm not ever going to use any cannabis products while i'm still on my current medication.

if you made it this far, thank you for reading. i do want to be clear that this is not a 'don't ever use weed!!!1!' post. this is an 'if you do use weed, please please PLEASE be aware of how it might interact with any other medication you're on, lest you end up like me' post.

so please, do NOT end up like me. be smart. do your research. it's a lot cheaper and less stressful than a visit to the ER, i promise.

[resi4skz]

Title: Starstruck (pt1)

Pairing: Chan!idol x Fem!reader

Enjoy!

Part 2 , Part 3

"The usual place?" Luna asks as I finish up decorating a cake that was due tomorrow.

"Yeah. Erica and Julie wants to go there too. Just make a reservation for," I glance at my watch. "5pm."

As she makes the reservation on the phone, I glue the white and pink fondant petals on the 2 tier cake with edible glue. It was a cute and simple cake for a 1yr old. Turning the cake turntable, I admire my work before placing it in the fridge for pickup tomorrow. "Hey, so he uploaded a video again."

I haven't turned around so fast in my life. I quickly walk over to her as she hands me her phone. Excitedly, I press play on the tiktok page she had left me. Music comes on as a man in a white skin tight full sleeve top and baggy pants comes on. He dances, showing his dance skills. I had been following him ever since he had 2 videos on his page. Now he has millions followers and loads of comments under each video.

The only downside? He wears a helmet in each one so no one really knows who he is. He's usually seen roaming the city of Seoul or videos like the one I'm watching. "Good lord, woman. You're starstruck."

I give the phone back and clean up the kitchen quickly. Sound comes from her phone and I start singing along the song 'Star Lost.' It's a song I always listen to when I need some cheering up. It's from the kpop group Stray Kids, a very popular boy group all around the world. Luna and I had always wanted to go to one of their concerts but with owning a bakery and orders piling on, we never had the time. But we both followed them on their instagram and bubble. Although I only had one bubble, the leader, the one and only Bang Chan.

After dinner, the four of us went our separate ways as we lived in different areas in the city. But I decided to stop by Han river to take a night stroll. It was nice this time around as it was getting a bit warm. Smiling, I close my eyes to feel the warm breeze of summer approaching.

I resume walking, enjoying the sound of the waves. There weren't many people around as it was pretty later and I liked that, less people to worry about. My phone buzzes as I approach a corner.

L: are you home yet?

As I'm about to reply, I walk into something. Or someone. "Ah, I'm sorr-"

My words stop in my throat as I blink at the person in front of me.

Am I seeing things?

I rub my eyes. He's wearing biker gear this time. But no helmet? I blink a few times at the back of his head. What is he doing here? It's when he turns around is the biggest surprise of my life. The black curly hair, the sharp jaw and those lips. I definitely know those lips. When my land on his eyes, I let out the biggest gasp. "You're....you're....."

"Shhh!" He says, putting his finger to his lips as he glances around. "Shit, I didn't expect for my identity to go this way."

"Holy shit. You're Bang Chan AND the biker dude?!"

Sighing, he closes his eyes, nodding his head. "Yes."

"Okay. I need to sit down. Or pinch myself," I said, transfixed at the man in front of me. "This is a dream, right?"

He laughs softly, his dimples popping. Oh my god. His dimples. "You're definitely not dreaming." He reaches up and pinches my arm.

I flinch, hissing at the sharp pain. "Ow!" Okay. Definitely not dreaming. "But what are you doing here?"

"I was trying to find a spot to film a tiktok."

"Right."

I watch him fiddle with the zipper of his biker jacket. "May I?" I asked, stepping closer to him. Once he nods, I place my hands at the front of his jacket and.....holy fuck he smells so good. Mentally cursing at myself, I pull the zipper down and step back.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome," I replied smiling.

His phone buzzes and he pulls it out of his biker pants, turning around to take the call. After a few seconds, I take it as a sign to leave. As I'm scrambling my brain whether to tell Luna about what just happened when I feel a tap on my shoulder. Turning around, it's him again.

"Damn, you walk fast," he pants, his helmet dangling around his hand.

"Uhm, did something happen?" I asked, concerned.

"No, but," he fishes out phone again. "I wanted to ask a question."

"Okay..."

"Would you want to come to our concert?"

I almost choked on my spit. "W-what?"

"Our concert? It's this weekend."

"No. I heard you. Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you want me to go to your concert?" He gives a shrug to my question. "Is it to bribe me so I don't tell everyone about you?"

He gives another shrug and I laugh. "Oh my god, it is!"

"Look," he begins. "I can't have this going out otherwise my company won't let me hear the end of it."

Which was true because his company was shit. "Okay."

We exchange phone numbers. I stare at my phone with his number. Holy cannolli. I have Bang Chan's number. "I'll text you the details for the concert. Make sure to come to the backstage, yeah?"

"Okay."

"Alright, well, see ya," he says with a wink before putting on his helmet and sprinting away.

A little later when I'm home getting ready for bed, my phone chimes. Thinking it's Luna, I pick it up but freeze when I see the name on the screen.

C: did you get home okay?

Y/N: yes, was just getting ready for bed

C: oh? It's only 11pm

I snort at his text.

Y/N: only you would think it's early but I have been up since 5am and would like a 10hr nap with no interruptions

As soon as I hit send, my phone rings loudly making me jump. "Jesus." But it's him calling. "Hello?"

"A 10 hour nap? That's not a nap."

"It is for me."

"You're one weird woman but I like you."

My heart skips a beat. "Sure. Everyone likes me. You'd like my cakes too."

"Cakes?" He asked.

Ah, right. "I own a bakery with my friend, Luna."

"Maybe I'll come by sometime to taste your cake."

"Wait," I blink at his words. "You want to come to my bakery?"

He chuckles, music to my ears. "Why is that so surprising?"

"I mean," I began. "It's not everyday I get to hear that THE Bang Chan would visit my bakery."

"Alright, well I'll let you go."

I dream about a biker thay night.

--------------------------------------------------------------

The following night, he invites me for coffee. Then later we're back at Han River again, walking and talking. After a few minutes, we reach his bike and he grabs his helmet. Gosh. How is the little things he does I find very attractive?

The next few seconds go by fast, my brain not comprehending what happened. I feel something soft and wet on my right cheek, eyes widened as I reach to touch when he steps back. Did he just....

"Let me drop you home?"

I could only nod as I suddenly didn't have the ability to speak. And as I sit behind him on the bike, I was having trouble finding a spot to hold onto when he grabs my hand and puts them around his waist. "That's much better," he says starting the bike. And we were off.

By the time he reached my apartment complex, I'm still stuck on the kiss he gave me on the cheek. "Y/N?"

"Huh?" I snap my eyes at him as I see him with his hand out for me to climb off the bike. "Oh!"

"So, Y/N."

"Y-yes?"

"Will I see you again?"

Is he talking in a sense of a date? Wait, he's asking ME on a date???? "At the concert?"

"And after," he said.

"After?" I blink, my brain going in overdrive.

"Yeah, I wanna take you out," he replied.

"Are you asking me out on a date?"

"Yes," he chuckles.

"But we just met."

He takes a step closer and tucks my hair behind my ears. What is happening? "Yeah. It's not everyday everybody gets star struck."

Holy moly. His brown boba eyes are so pretty. I can check off many things on my bucket list with him being number 1. "But you're an idol. And I'm just a normal human who works in a bakery."

"So?"

"So, wouldn't it be weird for you to go out and be bombarded by paparazzi?"

"Good point," he nods. "But I have my ways, sweetheart."

Sweetheart. Bang Chan just called me a sweetheart. "Right. I forget you know almost everyone in the industry."

"It's a curse."

"What? Hello? It's not a curse. If I was like you, I wouldn't have trouble with social anxiety," I exclaimed. "I wouldn't give a fuck about anyone saying anything to me then."

He snorts, laughing. "You're so cute."

"Hey!"

"Sorry, sorry," he says. "But it's a fact that I do know everyone and everything."

"See? You get it. While my introverted mind can't even fathom being in crowds," I huff, crossing my arms. When my eyes meet his, he's staring at me with such fire in his eyes. I squirm on my spot. "What?"

"Nothing. Just wondering if I should come up and show you what an extrovert can do or just leave before I do something drastic."

I visbly gulp. Holy shit, Christopher. "Uhm."

But he just smiles at me and wears his helmet with the visor up. "I'll see you at the concert?"

"Yeah."

He gets on his bike, revvs it up a bit then he turns around and winking at me before driving away.

When I'm settled in bed, nice and cozy, my phone buzzes. "Luna if this is yo-" But my eyes widen at the name popping up.

C: sweet dreams, babygirl ;)

I cannot wait for the concert.

[py-dreamer]

Ok so I might've gone over time again a lil bit BUT I STILL MADE IT!!!

"Why is it Nezha? First Mk, then Mei, why Nezha? Shouldn't it be Pigsy or Tang or Red Son? Why are you robbing the less popular characters their spotli-"

SHUSH!!!!

Ok so a reason I made Nezha next, is cause I have an upcoming project due soon and I require our 3rd lotus princey over here to come help me.

Look it's an art thingy and the theme is 'Legacy of the gods' and I did chinese mythology not LMK. As such I couldn't pick an lmk exclusive character like Mk or Mei. Furthermore, since it was about the 'gods' specifically, I'm more focused on the deities and less demons the like.

Also a lot of my project has featured so much JTTW, and I'm sure it definitely will in future...So to break up from that and for a bit of variety, I've added in our lotus friend.

(I mean, I suppose I could've done Chang'e but I just decided Nezha had more myths so he was my best bet)

And I couldn't do Wukong. Cause I'm already doing another piece with him, I made two stickers of him already. They will know I have favorites. And I do, I know I do but damn it if I don't wanna show it so obviously!!!

Actually, originally I had like a list of who I wanted to do and it was mostly like main cast of lmk with some fan favorites/my favs here and there and Nezha was towards the bottom but I moved him up due to the reasons above. And I was going to do Pigsy and Tang today but that's not how things turned out, I'll still do them just everyone's gonna have to be moved up in the list now.

Don't ask me what kinda cake it is, if I had to guess some kinda cheesecake with like a thin layer of jelly on top. The pink/red contributes to his main color scheme and the blue jelly makes it look like a pond and all the decorations and lotuses on top look like they're floating in water.

And I suppose it's different from Mk and Mei's cause like the KNY arts have different cakes sometimes why not do the same for these guys? And Nezha is a prince, and the patron god of children! I think he deserves something nice. (I used Giyu's cake for reference)

The filling is strawberries again, hopefully better drawn this time and actually sakura petals instead of lotus ones. I don't know why I used sakura petals, the color is more like lotuses but the shape is inspired after sakura so maybe it's a hybrid.

I do enjoy that it is more detailed than the previous two (especially since I'm using it for a project-)

I actually had a lot of trouble thinking of the sugar cookies cause there's not much associated with Nezha other than his lotus theme and his weaponry. Like at least Mei had her sword and her dragon insignia in different styles! I didn't wanna just do lotuses for like 3 times so I did his universal ring and that golden brick from that one episode. And yes, that brick is an actual thing in the mythos, it's not just a quick visual gag.

I did copy paste the frosting swirls and shells from Mei, don't @ me pls they just looked cool, I needed something to jush up the cake and COME ON THEY LOOK COOL HOW COULD I NOT

No I did not change the color but the minty green broke up all the pink and gold nicely, I think...

I did add the lotus flower and that green thing that triggers ur tripophobia is a lotus fruit. So for those who don't know, lotuses are edible! Not water lilies though. There's a difference. And lotuses can be made into lotus jam and it's delicious! I do recommend trying a lotus jam bao at least once.

Now I know Nezha is a chinese deity and mochi/dango is japannese but Idk what other desert to use and I didn't feel tanghulu fit the vibe...

But yea, those are his flaming fire wheels he skates on, that's why they're on fire, no it's not the rings of the samadhi fire. (I'll be saving that for RS) though now, I do wish I'd just done the outline in a darker shade to make it look like it was an actual image grilled into the mochi rather than a sticker slapped on.

The sneks! Omg! I almost forgot about them! But yea, those are the golden serpent shears we saw in that one episode. They are a bit last minute but I think they turned out decently well. Lil bleps.

Then we have the fire tipped spear and yes, that is Ao Bing. I'm sorry, I know I said I shipped them, and I still do (I see lmk nezha as both mentally and physically an adult don't try me) but damn that idea popped into my head and it was funny. He's fine...I think

(also funny to think Mei's is all dragon oriented and here's Nezha and Ao bing like bleep)

The reason the ribbon is so long is cause it's the goddamn armillary sash that Nezha uses, and it's its own canon magic thing, why not let it be longer and yes I did add some white detail but I just thought it looked more finished and it's a celebration! Let him be festive!

I really like the pose like Nezha receiving a lil present. I think he's the kind of person to not expect presents but be pleasantly surprised at them.

And btw that balloon has lily pads, it's not a globe. I know they should be elevated for lotuses but I can't exactly make the leaves pop out.

So later today should be Tang and pigsy hopefully!

(Also I've noticed a trend in general lmk posts. Ships, duos, trios basically anything with a relationship of some kind always do better than just one character so if I had to guess this like my other birthday posts won't do that well)

Oh and @leesbian42, before I forget, happy almost birthday! If I remember correctly you're turning like 24 right?

[ladyofthe-lake]

"Wild Edible Plants of Kansas" — a suptober24 ficlet

Summary:

Dean and Cas are living out the rest of their days, happily retired from the hunting life, in the bunker. Cas gets his hands on some books about foraging. Domestic husbands ficlet.

When Cas learns about foraging, he becomes insufferable. No sooner does he see a foraging account on Instagram than several books about it show up at the door of the bunker, and Dean has to have another talk with him about ordering things to be shipped to their home. No matter how calm things have been for years, he doesn’t like the idea of some mega-corporation having his damn address.

“But Dean, you can just eat food that you find in the wild if you know what to look for,” Cas explains as he spreads the books on the tables that used to be used solely to research monsters, Heaven, Hell, and other manners of the supernatural. Now, they pull out the books occasionally, but more often than not, when Dean and Cas catch a whiff of something weird, they call in another hunter, someone a bit more spry.

They’re getting old, they’re getting soft — something Dean never thought he’d have the chance to do.

“Okay,” he says, leaning against the table with a beer in his hand. “So…” He taps the cover of Wild Edible Plants of Kansas. “This is better than just going to the grocery store how?”

Cas looks at him seriously. “This is all free.”

“Well, everything’s free for us,” Dean points out, a half-smile on his lips, as running credit card scams will never get old and at this point he’d be more surprised if he got caught for it than if the apocalypse were to get restarted.

“No, but this is free for everyone,” Cas replies. “All of the creation of the Earth, just… there for anyone to enjoy and to use.” He avoids saying ‘God;’ he’s careful like that, having moved into a more general spiritual realm since everything that happened. Cas likes to think of them now as creatures of the Earth, everything belonging to a cycle. Dean doesn’t even roll his eyes at the tree of life tapestry that Cas has hung up in the dungeon, where he goes to meditate these days — when they’re not pulling out the restraints and chains for their own use, of course.

“Right, but the grocery store is also—” Dean starts, but Cas cuts him off.

“You don’t understand,” he says. “It’s not the spirit of things. We were meant to all be able to enjoy equally. Capitalism, it’s gotten—”

“Okay, okay.” Dean raises his hands up in surrender. As soon as the word ‘capitalism’ gets thrown into the conversation he knows Cas is headed into lecture territory and Dean doesn’t really need to hear that. “You do you, man. I’m gonna be in the garage, gotta get to work on that GTO.” As he turns to leave, the title on the Foraging Mushrooms book catches his eye and he says, “Just be careful you pick out the right mushrooms. Don’t want to get too crazy tonight with dinner, yeah?”

Cas’s eyebrows furrow but Dean leaves him with that, heading down to the garage to spend a couple hours on his latest restoration project.

It’s more than a few hours, though, and he’s lost in the music his speakers blast throughout the echoing space and the work of getting this car back into its original condition. He doesn’t hear Cas when he enters the garage, so Cas’s arms snaking around him from behind comes as a surprise.

Used to be, he’d have jumped at that, reached for his gun; and while he still knows where the nearest gun is, he doesn’t have it on him, hasn’t been carrying it around at home for a long time.

Now, he knows Cas’s touch well, knows that Cas is the only other one here, that they’re safe. Nothing’s hunting them, nothing’s out to get them; they’ve been left alone now for years, except for Sam’s regular visits.

Dean leans back against him, his hands too greasy to return the touch. “Sorry, got lost in my own world again,” he says, contented, arching his neck to plant a kiss on Cas’s cheek.

“It’s okay. I wouldn’t interrupt but I’ve made dinner and want you to come try it before it gets cold,” Cas replies.

“Alright, let me just clean up here and I’ll be done for the evening.” Dean’s been looking forward to the evenings in particular; he and Cas will curl up on the couch that they’ve put in one of the old storage rooms that now serves as their living room and they’ll put on a movie or TV show. They have to pause frequently so that Cas can ask questions or Dean can explain something he thinks is important for Cas to know, references to other things or information about the world that Cas may not have gotten yet. Their list of what to watch grows ever longer with things Dean wants to catch Cas up on and what he himself has missed over the years, too busy with hunting and demons and angels and all that shit.

If they have energy afterward, they’ll fall into bed together, naked and exploring the familiarity that is one another’s bodies. But if they’re both tired, they’ll fall into their normal positions, Cas’s leg slung over Dean’s, his arm wrapped around Dean’s shoulder, holding him tight. On the nights when the nightmares come, Cas whispers in Dean’s ear that he’ll save him from Hell, he’ll save him from Purgatory, he’ll save him from whatever comes to him, forever — for as long as it takes. And when it’s Cas’s turn for the nightmares, a side effect of being human that he loathes, Dean reverses their positions, wraps himself around Cas, kisses his hair, and murmurs the same reassurances: he’s saved him before, he’ll do it again, and again, and again.

The kitchen, when Dean arrives upstairs, smells delicious. Cas turns away from the stove with a broad smile. “I’ve made risotto,” he says, pronouncing the word like it’s brand new to him, which it probably is. Risotto certainly isn’t on Dean’s regular meal rotation and it’s not served at the restaurants and bars they’ve frequented in the past.

“Risotto?” Dean raises his eyebrows.

“Yes. I found some wild herbs and mushrooms,” Cas explains, dipping a wooden spoon into the pot and filling up a bowl with food.

“Just this afternoon?” Dean asks in surprise.

“Yes, the woods and prairie around here are teeming with wildlife. I told you.” Cas looks at him meaningfully. “The Earth offers up so much for us.”

Dean wanders over to peer into the pot. It does smell very good, and he takes the bowl that Cas offers him. “You checked and you’re sure these ain’t poison mushrooms, or the fun kind?”

“Ah, yes,” Cas says, “there’s a chapter on that in the book. These are edible and are not going to send us on a trip. Though, if you’d like to try some of those type, the Internet has told me that they are easy to acquire.”

Dean’s expression is all amusement as he heads over to the table and sits down. “You’d wanna try shrooms, Cas? Really?”

“It seems like a unique human experience,” Cas says, filling his own bowl and following Dean to the table.

Dean lifts a spoonful of food to his lips and pauses only a second to look up at him. “That it does, Cas. You know, some people take mushrooms to see God. That’d be my biggest worry — I don’t wanna see reruns."

Cas smiles softly at him and beneath the table, Dean feels Cas’s foot press against his own. “Then we can stick with this kind for now,” he replies. “There were many in the woods. We’ll eat like kings for years."

Dean would say his first bite is Heaven, only it’s better — he’s been to Heaven and it’s not what it’s cracked up to be. This, though. This is real; it’s earthy, and he can somehow taste Cas’s hands on it, can picture him in the woods, kneeling to pluck the mushrooms from their soil. He can taste the careful preparation of the meal, the care Cas puts into everything he does.

“Cas, man,” he says, looking up at him. “This is fuckin’ delicious.”

“I’m glad you like it, Dean,” Cas says, watching him in that way that’ll never stop making Dean’s heart skip into a quicker staccato.

Around them, their home is quiet, calm. The bunker is warm and safe, their evening spread before them in its simplicity and domesticity. Dean’s lucky, luckier than he could’ve ever imagined being. Outside, the Kansas night rolls in.

[expired-monster-craft-smp]

Leon Kennedy headcanons because he has infected my little homosexual monkey brain like the plague

- Bites the skin on his lower lip as a habit and picks at it mindlessly

- Like he won’t even realize his lip is bleeding

- Leon has sharp canine teeth and is constantly accidentally biting his tongue, the inside of his lip, and the inside of his cheeks like, exceptionally hard (almost always has a small open wound in his mouth, lots of scars)

- Prefers plain mint gum over spearmint gum, usually only chews sugar free gum as well

- Super flexible (which is canon tbh) and he loves doing stretches

- He sleeps and sits in strange positions because of his flexibility so things that are super comfy for him might be damn near impossible for others to do

- (slight chreon) Chris has definitely gotten distracted by Leon stretching because goddamn why he is so flexible???

- Leon prefers thicker soups over thinner ones

- The least picky eater imaginable oh my god he’ll literally eat nearly anything if you tell him it’s edible I stg

- (RE2 Leon and a bit of RE4) A little insecure about his babyface, like if he walked into a bar he would definitely get carded and he’s just kinda like “man :(“

- Used to be a dog person but now he’s kinda afraid of them due to the trauma he has with dog B.O.W.s

- Leon is often compared to a cat by Chris (he thinks the man is very cat-like, especially with how he likes to sit/sleep and his personality)

- Doesn’t smoke but has hit a younger coworkers vape once and his eyes teared up from him trying to hold in his coughing (he liked the flavour though, it was strawberry kiwi ice)

- Prefers pistols and close-combat weapons (such as his knife) over semiautomatic weapons

- Leon is autistic. That’s all I have to say about that

- Violently bisexual but in denial about liking men (he’s already bad with women, he doesn’t wanna think about how it’d go with men 💀)

- Like to sit in ways that stretch out his legs, likes to stand/lean against walls so he can stretch his legs. He takes up a lot of room because of this but he will move if needed

- The only reason he’s still allowed to have his license is because he works for the government

- Usually though the government will provide him transportation for everyone’s safety

- Can only cook really simple meals and can never eat/deal with meat a few days after a particularly rough mission

- He more often than not has nightmares and is an extremely light sleeper

- Leon really doesn’t get a lot of sleep and has to resort to sleep pills fairly often

- His one-liners and jokes keep him grounded as he does missions

- It’s also why he prefers to wear fingerless gloves! The gloves protect his palms but being able to feel things directly to his fingers can be helpful in keeping him grounded and focused on the mission

- HATES insects and will kill them but will gently take spiders out of the room and outside with the cup and paper trick

- If he’s drinking to relax he’ll have a fruity cocktail or something sweet but if he’s drinking to forget/cope he’ll choose something that’ll burn his throat going down

I have way more so I’ll probably make another list at some point <3

[pantuflitaizquierda]

I haven’t written anything (not school related) in years (since elementary), but I wanted to try it again, feel free to give advice in the comments! (English is evidently not my first language btw, please tell me if there’s an error in the comments 🙇‍♀️)

It’s an LMK/JTTW AU, Wukong and Mac had never met each other… until now!

(Word count : 502)

(English

⬇️

Español)

A Shadow, a King & a Cave

Everyone has already heard the story, the Handsome Monkey King wrecks havoc in heaven after being invited to live with the gods only to be deceived, humiliated and then burned by them, but when he makes them pay, even managing to almost dethrone the Jade Emperor himself! He is imprisoned under Five-Finger Mountain, rendered almost completely immobile and forced to eat iron and drink molten copper, remaining alone, until the end of time or until the gods decide that he has been imprisoned long enough.

He had already come to terms with the fact that he was going to be lonely for all that time, no one had showed up to save him before and he was pretty sure no one was coming now, that’s exactly the reason why he was so confused with the moving shadow that started coming from time to time to the inside of the mountain. Now, he wasn’t a fool, he gained some cool powers a while ago that let him see through lies and stuff like that, so he knew his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him with the moving shadow, it was definitely a demon. A wary one. Not even the servants who force-fed him had noticed it.

Months passed and the shadow seemed to come more and more often, perhaps more confident knowing that the prisoner could barely move a hand, which was a small relief for Wukong since that shadow seemed to be the only entertainment he would have in centuries. So, without much to lose, he decided to start talking to them.

It started with a simple greeting, he ultimately wanted more but was afraid to scare away the cautious shadow, though this took the demon by surprise anyway, getting fluffed up like an angry cat and disappearing from his sight. Wukong tried to stop him, but evidently he couldn't get very far. His only chance to have a buddy in his prison ruined by a damn hello. Just what one needs after a hundred years of loneliness.

But his sorrow would be relatively short, since only a few days passed when the shadow demon returned, this time with a peace offering, a peach. Seeing it, the King's face lit up completely, it seemed that all that time he had spent eating iron and swallowing copper no longer mattered, he could finally taste something other than metal, he had never been so happy to see a peach in his life... so it was very disappointing when the shadow left the fruit on the floor, right in front of him… where he couldn't reach it…

So fucking close and he couldn't even touch the damn fruit. Wukong had had enough, he was lonely, he hadn't spoken to anyone in a century, he hadn't eaten anything edible in years, he couldn't move and when he was so close to having even a little taste of what felt like freedom, HE CAN'T EVEN TOUCH IT.

La prisión del Rey y la Sombra que lo acompaña

Ya todos conocen la historia, el Apuesto Rey Mono crea caos en el cielo tras ser invitado a vivir con los dioses solo para ser engañado, humillado y después quemado por ellos, pero cuando él los hace pagar, ¡casi logrando destronar al mismísimo Rey de Jade! es encerrado bajo la montaña Wuwang, dejándolo casi completamente inmóvil y forzándolo a comer pepitas de hierro y beber cobre fundido, quedándose solo, hasta el fin de los tiempos o hasta que los dioses decidan que ya estuvo encerrado el tiempo suficiente.

Él ya había aceptado el hecho de que iba a estar solo durante todo ese tiempo, nadie había llegado a salvarlo antes y estaba bastante seguro de que nadie vendría ahora, esa es exactamente la razón por la que estaba tan confundido con una dichosa y movediza sombra que comenzaba a aparecer de vez en cuando dentro de la montaña. Ahora, él no era tonto, obtuvo algunos poderes geniales hace un tiempo que le permitían ver a través de mentiras y cosas así, así que sabía que su mente no le estaba jugando una mala pasada con esa sombra, definitivamente era un demonio. Uno un tanto cauteloso, ni los sirvientes que le alimentaban lo habían notado.

Pasaron los meses y la sobra parecía venir más y mas a menudo, tal vez más confiada al saber que el prisionero apenas y podía mover una mano, lo que fue un pequeño gran alivio para Wukong ya que esa sombra parecía ser el único entretenimiento que tendría en siglos. Así que, sin mucho que perder, decidió empezar a hablarle.

Empezó con un simple saludo, él en definitiva quería más pero temía espantar a la cautelosa sombra, pero esto tomó tan de sorpresa al demonio que se esponjó cómo un gato enojado y desapareció de su vista. Wukong intentó detenerlo, pero evidentemente no logró llegar muy lejos. Su única oportunidad de tener a un compañero en su prisión arruinada por un maldito saludo. Justo lo que uno necesita tras cien años de soledad.

Pero su pesar le duraría relativamente poco, pues solo pasaron unos días cuando el demonio de la sombra volvió, esta vez con una ofrenda de paz, un durazno. Al verlo la cara del Rey se iluminó por completo, parecía que todo ese tiempo que había pasado comiendo hierro y tragando cobre ya no importaban, por fin podría saborear otra cosa que no fuera un metal, nunca había estado tan feliz de ver un durazno en su vida… por lo que fue muy decepcionante cuando la sombra dejó el fruto en el piso, justo en frente de él, donde no lo podía alcanzar.

Tan jodidamente cerca y no podía ni tocar la maldita fruta. Wukong ya estaba harto, estaba solo, no había hablado con nadie en un siglo, no había comido nada comestible en años, so podía moverse y al momento de estar tan cerca de tener aunque sea una probadita de lo que se sentía cómo libertad, Y NO PUEDE NI TOCARLA.

[unitchiefs-blackbirdphoenix]

17x06 Reaction/Spoilers Pt. 1 (aka the Jemily Episode of S17/Of All Time)

TW: not much however, there is a blood/gunshot wound warning (around 03:20-03:46) and drug use (edibles in each jemily scene pretty much)

Also if you want my jemily watch thoughts, I bolded them in this post haha (also thanks to @blackbirdsaltzman for our predictions for jemily stuff this ep haha!) I had to split this into two posts bc I have so many thoughts about this ep especially with jemily haha

Tara and Rossi teaming up together again!

Voit's cell

LUKE! MY BOY!

Tara's voice omg 😭

Noooo nooo omg Emily's singing 😭😭

Fuck it's not what we think!!

Voit fuck off!

You let go of her you fucking son of a bitch

Emily's singing is breaking my heart fuck nooooo

I know it's a dream but noooo Emily's pained singing broke me 😭

Why do they have to repeat her singing on the title card?? Damn it CME

Love Paget's voice but fuck

Aww Penelope leaving a bucket for Emily. She was drinking the other night hahaha

I've been wanting to say this since the promos came out but JJ's hair is wavy again, but her sleeves are still long and covering her hands :(

Rossi's seeing a bunch of Voits around the bullpen, including him as the others

Zach Gilford, I hate your character but I love you as an actor

JJ already being worried about Emily and her looking at Penelope

Not Emily's singing again fuck. I swear if her singing this song is foreshadowing the next eps...

JJ following Penelope to her lair. Omg JJ and Penelope's bestieism in this very lair 🥰 I miss them! It's like the early seasons them!

"You profiled that. I did not tell you" but JJ knows Emily inside and out hehe

JJ's little look at Penelope's keys

"Please I'm a mom. I've seen worse" hahahaha

Oh- Tyler's ex huh? Teresa Campos

Garvez!

Hahahaha Tyler calling Luke to talk to his ex

Exes in a room, whatcha gonna do

"She's the woman I dated.... right before you."

The walls shaking in Rossi's office. I'm sorry but the effects is kinda making me laugh

Tara being the second one to call out Rossi on not going to mandated trauma therapy lol

Tara just being there and holding Rossi's hand and talking him through 😭 I liked that moment

Tara's voice is so soothing, hold my hand next please.

Jemily scene #1 wooo!

JJ's cheetos obsession never dies! Also a mutual and I predicted before this ep on something that happens with JJ with these very things... 👀

Damn it. JJ I know you're making Emily comfortable but I needed the lights on!

The sneak peek!

Emily, although high, loves salt and vinegar chips!

Chopsticks is definitely going to be a jemily thing now. I may or may not have a one shot idea about that 👀

"Sooo what have you been drinking?" AJ's giggle is so cute

"Emily Elizabeth Prentiss, are you high?" "I'm not not high" "Oh my god" god I love them

"I didn't know super-hot Latina was your type. My name is Garcia..." Garcia um... I hate to tell you this...

Teresa's got a thing for army guys oh- is this... Luke's also an army guy

I have a feeling that they might set up Luke and Teresa together to try and stop Garvez from happening I fear 😔

Tommy Yates is all I could think of for Rossi rn

It's risky but I guess it might help Rossi

Tyler did that from last season and it got Penelope somewhat in trouble when her uh... predicament with him happened

"Message in a bottle" title mention!

"Sticky chemistry" omg 😭 Penelope

Teresa and Penelope and Luke and Tyler. Ooooh this should be fun!

Jemily scene #2

"I can feel your disappointed stare on my back" Emily knows her wife so well

JJ eating more... cheetos... omg girly you're gonna get fucked up

"Not disappointed, just... didn't know you smoked" JJ, you already knew Emily had some sort of a past with smoking and yet this surprises you? 😂 But also the way she sounded so amused with a huge smile like ahhhh I love them so much

When you need to focus or contemplate life, you just have a bag of cheese puffs with you, Emily? Like at any time JJ comes over to your place or something, you think she wouldn't try to go for that bag??

"tame the PR beast" liaison JJ hello??

JJ the voice of reason yesss

Not Emily talking about the Catcher in the Rye like she doesn’t know wtf that is omg 😭

"We need to talk"

Oh shit. "Why are the walls closing in?" JJ's realization and Emily's realization 👀

JJ's "Emily?"

That bag was like full earlier. Omg JJ 😭😭

Not Emily taking the last one omg. She said "solidarity" lol

"Those are edibles? 🥺" "You're gonna need to lie down" "Nooo" I just- they're so funny and adorable

JJ's on for a ride (or a trip if you will hehe)

Also I'm taking it that Emily has a bag of edible cheetos and a bag of regular cheetos, and hides the edibles from JJ hahaha

Back to Rossi. And this is the elevator scene from the trailer with the walls closing in on him. Ooooh JJ just said that earlier too

"past paramours" Penelope-

Pheromones? I swear... do not cm

Hahaha that's a long story Teresa

Luke and Tyler oooh 👀

Not to be encouraging ideas... but why do I have a feeling some people might start shipping/making fanfics of Tyler and Luke now? hahaha

Ooh they're bonding over movies now??? I might like this actually

I hate hearing Emily's pained voice :( hasn't she been through enough?? Apparently not in this season or ever

Tommy Yates

"Am I haunting you?" Yes

Subtext ok Elias

So only three people know about Gold Star: Voit, Doug, and possibly Gideon’s ex-wife?

Damn. "We build a profile" Zach Gilford

Sebastian Gasper from 17x03

Jemily scene #3

JJ is soooo out of it omg

Her little dopey (stoned) smile when she hears that Emily's reinstated as unit chief. JJ's still a supportive wife through her high world lol

JJ: "hell yeah let's goo🤘" that was 1000% AJ for sure like girl we know you've been high before irl hahaha

JJ already shaking her head and going "no" when Emily said she’s sending an email to reject the offer back

Gideon, Morgan, and Hotch mention

"the longer you stay in this job, the odds is that you're going to lose yourself or someone you love or your sense of honor. It just takes and takes and takes" Emily :(

Omg BAU-Gate mention!

Oh 😭 JJ's deep-seated fear is exactly what we thought. That Henry or his friends come across the website.

I appreciate the mention and I swear if it wasn't the website, I love AJ's delivery of "yeah I found out" like "yeah duh", that was kinda funny actually

"You know what bugs me the most, is that you- you didn't tell me." JJ wasn't mad at her (or maybe she was but not enough to hate her of course) but she was just more hurt that Emily hid it from her since she found out. JJ just wanted answers!

AJ's little shaking hand when JJ says "you didn't tell me."

"Did you think I couldn't handle it?" I had a feeling JJ would say this when she confronted Emily

"No, I knew you could handle it. That doesn't mean you had to." I know I saw some opinions on how Emily said that, but I don't think she made it about herself tbh. I think given their state of mind rn, Emily was trying to say she thought she could try to protect JJ by doing what she did. Ik there's been discourse on if Emily did the right thing or not and I don't wanna get into that either but I think if they were both sober, then it would've delved into a more emotional conversation about the website and Emily could've explained in full why she chose that decision. That's at least my thoughts on it for now.

"It's not about protecting us. It's about being honest with us. With me." JJ 😭 She was so hurt that Emily had to do that and just wanted her to be honest with her. I might have some thoughts on her saying this

Also the way she says "with me." Ohhh I love them 😭 Also the fact that JJ's more worried about Emily having to lie and hide from her. JJ hates when people lie and hide stuff from her (funny enough when she does the same lol)

[lexxspark]

Greened Out

Clapton Davis x reader

Overall gn!reader gender isn’t really specified here :3 lmk if I missed anything though!

A/N : hey guys thanks for reading! First fic since the damn renaissance (2015) this is also heavily inspired by Tednivisions story time about when he ate a 400 milligrams nerds rope💀

‼️mentions of the use of pot and smoking

Not proofread🙌🏻 wrote this this morning I think a ghost whispered this concept in my ear while I was sleeping.

A good night’s sleep. You’d think that’d be easier when you’re home alone but associating with Clapton Davis? Yeah idk about that. You were in the middle of drifting to sleep, wearing just some shorts and a band T-shirt you haphazardly grabbed last minute as something to sleep in, when you hear knocking at your window.

Normally this would be reason for panic, but when you look over to see a boy in a bright blue t-shirt, sunglasses dispute it being 11pm, you only sighed and walked over to the window to open it.

“Clapton what the fuck are you doing?”

“Listen, listen y/n okay? I’m-“ He paused and kindof stumbled a bit literally and over his words, but began again, “I need help ion- I don’t feel right.”

Then he gave you those eyes. Those stupid pleading puppy eyes.

You opened the window more to allow him to climb into your room. He did but almost fell flat on his face after his foot god caught in the window pane. He stumbled but fixed himself, standing straight and looking at you.

“What did you take Davis?” There was concern in your voice as you knew Clapton well and he didn’t do anything hard ever, nothing other than the occasional pot with his friends.

“Y/n im telling you all I took was an edible I don’t know what’s going on I’m like- I’m like aching every-time I touch something I can still feel it after and, and it feels like the room is spinning. It just I don’t feel right I think I was laced im telling you.” He said that last sentence while weakly pointing at the window, presumably at his friends.

“How many milligrams was it?” You asked, a very slight chuckle in your voice as you highly doubt someone had the brains to make a laced edible in the entire city of Grizzly Lake.

“Milligrams? Uhh what are those?” He furrowed his brows and squeezed his eyes shut making it look like he was really trying to remember what milligrams are.

“Oh my god.” You said under your breath as you walked over to Clapton and checked his pockets for the wrapper to his edible and to your surprise, you found a nerds rope wrapper crumpled up in his left shorts pocket.

“Wooah y/n” Clapton chuckled between his words, “Take me out before you get so handsy like that huh?” He gave you that big smile that may have made you blush, but your room was too dark to notice so you rolled your eyes instead.

“Relax Clapton, go sit down before you collapse on my floor okay?” You pointed to your bed as you started examining the wrapper.

“Yes ma’am.” Clapton said pouting and shuffling to your bed and plopping down at the foot of it, across from where you were standing.

That made you smile, the pout in his voice and the ma’am, he was such a sweetheart. However you and Clapton were on borderline opposite social circles. You only had a couple close friends where as Clapton was friends with practically everyone in town. Of course except for law enforcement. You liked him, of course you did. But everyone liked him and you just kind of figured that one of these days he’d meet someone cute and bubbly just as he is and forget about you. You were, however in your stubborn sarcasm, completely oblivious to Clapton’s shared fear. He thought that someday you would find some mature, older, more smart man to take care of you and forget all about him. So in return he followed you like a puppy everywhere, ensuring that you never would.

“Oh my fucking god Clapton.” Your eyes widened at the package.

“What? What’s wrong? Is it coke? Uh uhh what’s the one called? Oh my god Is it a Perc?” He was genuinely scared that he just took a Percocet nerds rope.

“No it’s still just weed but it’s 400 milligrams of it. Jesus Christ, Clapton it says ‘meant to be shared’ right on the package.” You pointed at it and handed it to him to read, all he did was squint you knew he didn’t even try to read anything on the package.

“Wow 400? That’s a lot. That’s prolly not a good thing is it?” He shook his head as he looked up at you, your brows furrowed with concern as u looked down at him.

“No, no it’s not.” Your eyes softened and shoulders dropped as you remembered he was still incredibly high and you were his only sober friend right now. “Have you eaten? Had water?”

“I ate an entire bag of family sized Cheeto Puffs, andd I also had a coke.” He smiled.

You tried your best to ignore his smile, “Okay well you need water, you definitely need water.” You walked over to your nightstand, Clapton’s eyes following your every move. You handed him the glass of water and he took a sip, realized how much he needed water, and proceeded to drink the entire thing.

“Jeez y/n do you have the air on blast in here? It’s like 40 degrees dude.”

“No, no you’re just cold, weed chills Clapton. Here.” You put the blanket around his shoulders and you saw him relax a bit into the blanket, still shivering though. This didn’t last however when he crawled up to where you were peacefully sleeping earlier and curled up into your pillows.

“Really?” You walked over to him and sat on the edge of the bed next to him, looking at him at first with annoyance, but then it caved as soon as you saw how cute he looked in your bed, looking up at you. You sighed in defeat, looking at the calendar on your door, and then back at Clapton. Your parents were away for the weekend, some thanksgiving thing with friends so you had the entire house to yourself for a while.

Clapton’s eyes never left yours and in your head you swore they would be your downfall. “Alright, Alright fine. You can take my bed I’ll just crash on the couch.” You smiled at him, breaking eye contact as you grabbed a spare pillow and started to turn to walk out of your room.

This made Clapton’s stomach drop. “No, nono, please.” He grabbed on your wrist, softly in a pleading hold, like if he let go he’d vanish into dust. “Please stay with me. I really don’t want to be alone like this.” There was genuine concern in his voice almost anxiety.

He gave you those stupid eyes again.

Before you could even realize what was going on you got into bed with him and laid down, Clapton Davis laying in your bed agonizingly close to you. However you could still feel him shivering. He studied your face, his expression never changing as he looked at your eyes. God he loved your eyes.

You looked back at him and gave him a soft look, looked up at the ceiling, and opened your arm so he could lay on your chest. He didn’t waste a second curling up to you. You felt your heart race and Clapton’s shivering subside. Part of you wondered if he was even still shivering or if he was faking it to get you to hold him, you didn’t really care either way.

Your hand found its way to Clapton’s hair, playing with it in a soothing way to get him to sleep off the edible for two he just took. Chances are he’ll wake up high in the morning. But that was a problem for tomorrow.

“Holyy fuck.” Clapton melted into your arms as u played with his hair almost whining at the contact.

“You okay Davis?”

“Yes, yes m fine just that feels really fucking good Jesus Christ don’t stop.” He whispered and mumbled at the same time, you felt his hands rub on your back and bunch up your shirt as someone to grab and hold on to.

“Wasn’t planning on it.” You smiled as you felt him calm, soon the shivering stopped. You and him lay in comfortable silence for a few moments until Clapton breaks it.

“Have I told you how beautiful I think you are?”

This caught you by surprise, all you could get out were a few “umms” before he started again, “You really are you know? You’re so smart and you’re funny. You deal with me and my stupid jokes. You’re just, you’re just you. And I really love that.”

He pulled away to look at you, meeting your eyes. You had no idea what to say to that. Even with him in your bed, you never thought that anything like that would come out of his mouth ever.

You paused, trying to come up with something to say, usually you’d have something smart or snarky to say but your entire mind blanked. All you could think about was him.

Even the 400mgs of marijuana in Clapton’s body couldn’t stop him from being cocky.

“Are you gonna let me kiss you orr?” He smiled again and you rolled your eyes opening your mouth to say something but he placed his hand on your cheek and kissed you before you could say anything else. You both sank into the kiss as it melted away years of anxiety that both of you had built up over each other.

As you pulled away his arms held you closer and he sank back into the crook of your neck leaving little peppered kissed on your collarbone.

“You don’t know how long I was waiting for you to do that.” You finally said, smiling while returning your hand back to his hair.

“You don’t know how long I was waiting for you to do that.” He laughed and you rolled your eyes again but smiled, kissing his hair. “Can I, can I be your boyfriend? You don’t know how much I care about you and I just- I want to be here for you always. Take care of you like you always do for me.” He mumbled that last sentence, thinking about tonight when you didn’t even hesitate to open your door, or window, and take care of him when he needed you. When you stayed without hesitation when he pleaded with you not to go. He wanted to treat you and show you how much he cared.

You wanted to say yes but you remembered he was high. A sudden fear flashed over you that he would wake up in the morning and not remember anything from tonight. You faltered when you said, “Clapton you’re high, are you sure you really mean that?” Fear of this all being an elaborate prank came across you, no way this was real.

It was like he could read your mind, that’s kind of how it’s always been. “I’m serious y/n. High words are sober thoughts right? If I wasn’t high I would never have the courage to ask you, or even tell you anything I just did. I’ve always thought you were beautiful.”

You sighed in relief, holding him closer.

“Let me be here for you like you are for me?” He pulled away so he could look you in the eyes, have gave you that pleading look again. “Please?”

You nodded and said, “Okay Clapton.” In such a whisper you weren’t sure he heard you, either way he kissed you again, this time you holding his face and running your hand through his hair. He loved it. He loved you. And you truthfully loved him. But you both on your own decided that a kiss was enough for the night and you were going to save the I love you’s for when Clapton’s sober.

He fell back into the crook for your neck and soon the both of you fell asleep like that. Finally getting a good nights sleep with each other in your arms.

A/N: congrats on reading my first tumblr posted fic!! might write a smut alt ended to this if it does good who knowwws:3

[lanafofana]

The chronic pain do be chronic-ing today so have some edible induced ranting :) 

I hate when you’re on the dock and Gale’s like I’m gonna do it, I’m gonna give the crown to Mystra. And tav/durge is like and then you’ll be Mystra’s chosen again! 

What? What? What?! 

I understand that his character growth is about trusting in the goddess to understand how the crown should be handled and following through with his oath in a bid for redemption. 

I get that, in surrendering the crown, he is finally accepting that who he is is enough, not only for his lover but also, for himself. 

But, larian, I have spent an entire [redacted] talking my companions down from the precipice and severing their blind devotion to their deities so why the FUCK am I suddenly like yaaas embrace the chosen status! Fuck agency! 

(Remember how Gale accepted/understood that Elminster had no choice but to charge him with self detonation because he was bound by the duty of being Mystra’s chosen??) 

Especially as someone who romanced him and saw him up close and personal at his absolute lowest when he was damn near willing to jump out any window he came across because he thought fatal penance was the only redeeming path open to him.  

And to be clear I’m not in the Mystra hate camp, I get why you would be but I think she acted in typical ‘nothing matters more than The Balance’ god fashion. If anything, I kinda headcanon that Gale had an intrinsic touch of fate/destiny about him that probably drew her attention. She may not have known or understood exactly what the nature of that fate/destiny was and, eventually realizing the danger the Absolute posed to gods as well as mortals, simply misinterpreted it. She, as well as everyone, was making decisions based on the information available as well as the wisdom of past experience (cough Karsus). 

Something I don’t see talked about much, and maybe it’s because I’m usually too deeply entrenched in my Halsin brainrot to look for, is how power hungry Gale is. When he’s convincing you that he should be allowed to pursue godhood he tries to convince you that, morally, he’s going to be so much better than the other gods. There’s an option to say something like Morality? Who cares about morality? Think of the power! And Gale’s response? Could not be more chuffed. He’s like OMG YOU GET ME. 

And…like, his pursuit of power is not just based in thinking he’s not good enough. Before he was knocked down several pegs by the orb sucking away the majority of his powers, he very much considered himself good enough. He desired power, lusted after it so much, he was willing to ignore the wisdom of the goddess of magic herself. True he was pursing it out of a misplaced devotion to the diety he loved but he was still pig headed enough to pursue it. The man had confidence coming out of his ears. I 100% believe if he had understood the nature of the Karsite weave and had knowledge of the Crown’s existence he could have been the Big Bad of Baldur’s Gate 3 instead of the Dead Three. 

Anyways, what was I saying? Uhhhh yeah! So his path to redemption is very much about relinquishing that lust for power. Power for its own sake, as well as power as a balm for his crippling self doubt. Self doubt he only acquired because he was one of the most powerful and gifted wizards of his time and had the majority of his powers stripped from him for reasons he didn’t fully understand. 

And telling him how great that he can finally return to being Mystra’s chosen feels like erasing that agency he’s finally found for himself. 

Anyway, I hate it. Fuck being chosen. 

I need a nap.

[crying-fantasies]

Hold (on to my heart)

Masterlist

CW: blood, murder, curses, hate, power abuse.

Nights in the caves are, really, something else, specially since Martha's garden finally gave something edible.

It's nice, to eat something warm and fresh after so long, canned food and such can only get one so far without feeling sick in mind and body, and don't even get started with the face of absolute horror some bots did after reading what was inside or, worse, what kept the corn in a barely decent consumption state.

It's nice to eat without someone burning their eyes on your back, calling you names.

Martha's corn is little, not really sweet, and mayonnaise or butter could make it more delicious, but everyone eats it to the last grain, part of it has already been stored, the fire where everyone gathered around is, maybe, a beacon of hope, just what everyone needs since Optimus left, and you catch a glimpse of mister Sawyer drying a lonely tear when he looks at a stone at the side.

Ironhide's stone, one he used like a chair.

That was where Ironhide used to come and talk, hell, the bots used to come here with you all, Tommy said maybe it was like looking at a wildlife documentary, but you and the rest have a different approach to it, giving an almost absolute vote of it being because they feel lonely, they feel hunger, they feel cold.

There is so much that can be done in the dessert, or any part the autobots go and so you all do, if you search well enough it isn't that hard to find edible cactuses or other things, with the usual trial and error in between, of course.

Ironhide was the first to tell Optimus to get all the humans back to where they came from, but he was also the first one to take a boulder out of the way to make this campfire site and use the rock as a makeshift chair, at first it looked like he was trying to put you all in one place and Sideswipe almost punched him in the faceplate, but he was also the responsible to moving the hard soil with Hound and Beachcomber so that Martha could grow food, the only one that knew how to live from the earth and not by ready-to-food like the rest of you.

"It's easier for humans to do it, since it's their planet", he said, "at least then we won't bother findin' fuel for them", Sides was ready to let him know his opinion but he was stopped since what the old bot gave you, in reality, was something even better than canned food left to waste.

It's not simple, to follow the autobots, to evade the government, to try and get a hold of whatever that could be usable, you still remember Val and how she found something alien and bring it back, the few energon that thing had was enough to add another two days for everyone, Rosalinde, almost two, could only smile by her sister's enthusiastic face.

It was never easy, when Hoist, relieved for the finding, patted Val's head with utmost delicacy, "You did great", the little girl looked like she won the lottery, very much in contrast to her crying once a military man found your group while looking for rations, Val went far away in the former warzone to find another vial of energon, finding the man in her way and all his group, holding her and telling the little orphan with baseless promises of finding her family with the help of whoever was in power, that he saved her of the horrible aliens as all you could do was move again because they couldn't find the autobots, "humans know what a new human spark would need", that's what Optimus said, and it was what Ratchet repeated to Hoist once he found out to calm him down, Bumblebee was totally against to give Rosa to the people on the near town to care for her, and you all promised to tend to her every need to prevent her from going to fall in their hands, Optimus meant well, you all knew, as all you could give Rosa and Val was the least spoiled food.

"Do he sees us as pets or what?"

"Quiet, kid! Do I need to remind you who saved your ass in the warzone?"

"Well then, I can return to the god-damned civilization because I'm not in debt with the ones that got the war here!"

Most people just go, at the beginning, just like Jimmy, Verity and Hunter, sometimes they stay, just like you, but staying also means to have your face among the most wanted due to "fraternizing with the alien enemy".

But returning would end in indefinite imprisonment, or a very bad interrogation that could turn south very easily, because no one knew of Javier once he got to the nearest town, but you all found him in the wastelands while searching for more supplies, his body, at least, full of bruises and in a terrible state, like he was tortured.

Mr. Duncan called it "a stupid robot hunt to keep the people happy in their madness to vote for them again", Susana said:" Just people showing off, they need some war in order to fill their pockets".

You can only hope Val has something to eat, someone to care, things were hard, as you see your chemically burned fingertips, no more gloves meant direct contact in occasions, Ratchet and Hoist sometimes can't with all the injured, so far the only helping hands they have are you and Mr. Duncan who was a mechanic before the war and before being totally wiped after seeing Optimus Prime himself help him to get out of some debris, transforming in front of him while saving him, they are great, they really are, but alien medicine can only get you so far before you touch real energon, the one running in their lines like blood does in your veins, and getting burned isn't that hard with your hands stopping the leaking in Track's side as Hoist tries to make him see that his wound matters more than his finish.

Sideswipe, ever the gentlemech, came to your rescue when your tearful eyes weren't that easy to hide from him, biting back the sobs and just silently taking it all, maybe that being the reason why his already volatile temper just got to a new level, "I'm going to show that slagger something to whine over", he was furious, not at you, but in what you were getting into, in how you were hiding it even from him.

"It's okay", you said, red eyes and patched fingers, bloody nose and sore throat, low on fluids due to the energon poisoning, "it's okay, I can keep going".

But you can't, not anymore, not because of Sides but because this new bot called Ultra Magnus was sure to keep their law to the T, and Ratchet couldn't do much about it, "it's unprecedented to let an organic know about our general physiology".

"Magnus, I don't have any more help here, and you're shortening it even more?"

"The law must be followed, Ratchet, and we shouldn't have so many injured if our soldiers were able to hold into the designated procedures for those cases".

Everyone have their own reasons to be here, some willing and others not, some do what they can while others just can't anymore, but all in unison rise their cheap plastic cups high and full of homemade alcohol that is sure to burn your liver alive, chanting a "for the ones we lost" before downing it at once, your corn is about to return from your stomach and Mr. Sawyer finally breaks down, crying in his daughter's arms inconsolably.

Men don't cry, you heard once, and it's stupid, maybe real men, the ones that matter, really do cry and bleed.

And maybe is not only about men crying, but showing grief and emotion as a whole, as you remember someone say: "just don't think about it and the pain will go away", or "just think you feel okay and you'll be", it was easier to say than to really do, and even if you did it didn't really change anything.

Maybe the most strong really show what is troubling them, and try to understand it.

Maybe that's why you find yourself walking again to the part of the base Sideswipe has taken for himself, he is just there, sitting, low on energon and spirits since Ironhide's frame was taken back by Ratchet, he looks just like when Sunstreaker-

"Do you hate it?"

At first, you don't know what he is referring to, is it the constant hunger? The scorching sunlight in the day and the cold moonless nights? Being hunted down by your own people? Your own race? There is so much to pick from, but he may only refer to one of them? With a lack of response he makes that sad face again, in the past he did it, as sad as ever or physically possible for him just to joke around, took you a while to notice his playful nature and how to respond to it, but you would give so much to see that kind of expression back to him only as a joke and not the real one in front of you.

"Hate is a strong word".

Since Bumblebee made the deal with the humans, with that guy called Spike, things have been better, but feeling the soldiers' hard gazes have made you all return to the caves from time to time, the last familiar place, the last place where you all saw so many before probably losing them forever.

Val is still missing, no one could track her or what they did with her after they took her away.

Ricardo decided to sell out the bots and play the victim in the news, whining and complaining about being a victim, trying to sell a book of his survival when he wouldn't even be alive if not for Beachcomber saving him from an explosive.

Lucas, Paula and Jocelyn died when those crazy fucks corraled the bots and they tried to stop them like a shield, believing they wouldn't shut them down.

Mr. Sawyer still can't keep a few bites of food down after Ironhide died, his depression hitting another level, or so Miranda, his daughter, said, when his friend returned like a carcass with a hole blasted right through his spark, his heart.

The cries of everyone when Bumblebee, one of the most kind and attentive autobots, one of the better living beings you have ever met, returned with smoke emanating from his body, closed and dead optics, energon spilling from the wound on his chest, as Mr. Sawyer's cries of "not again, please" made more echo in all the people crying, the few people that were still keeping it together before things just escalated more.

The feeling of being burned alive as your fingers put pressure to the many ruptures in the lines, hearing Mr. Duncan curse as his own hands weren't enough to stop the leaking and welding at the same time, being instructed by the supposed scientist and doctor that was in charge to keep Bumblebee alive by just pouring energon inside and letting you two do all the risky job.

Sideswipe's response to your "I hate it" isn't one of surprise, if anything, he is waiting for you to elaborate, "I hate them so much!".

His reaction to your answer brings up the necessity to shut your mouth, but the lock has been molested, and there is just so much you can do once bitting your tongue isn't enough, not even his sad smile, his relief at you finally letting go of what has been eating you from inside out, the low light of his optics on you, blue light that makes your tears shine like tiny sparks embers that fall ominously, like hatred and vengeance that are never to meet an end, the rage of a warrior encased in such tiny frame that does everything in it's power to heal even when there is a gaping black hole in the middle.

His reaction to your tears, to your hysteria, the ones you had to fight back, is nothing but understanding, and he doesn't even flinch when the poison and resentment follow and take control.

"I wish they end up dying there!", you remember their faces, their words full of hatred, you'll never forget them as you all shouted back in how the autobots weren't the ones to get the war to the planet, it was the decepticons who started it, it was the humans who kept at it.

They hated so much, without a base, without a reason, putting all of them in the same group, and were the first ones to shout indignantly once Jazz protected everyone.

"I wish everyone they are related to die too! Stupid genes should just disappear! Their parents! Their kids! It's all rotten!"

You will never forget their faces as they shut down Lucas, just because he was trying to speak with reason, "STOP! Stop! He is injured! Please stop!", Paula got to close for comfort too, apparently, as she was trying to call Spike for help, but someone, a sick fucko, believed her phone was a gun and killed her too with Jocelyn who was only promising the already on edge autobots that everything was going to be alright before her blood was flying in their direction.

"I want them to disappear"

Once your hatred is placating, finally being able to let yourself say all the bad things that have been bottled down for so long, your sadness takes over, and Sideswipe offers his servo to cradle you near as your tears and sobs aren't stopping, increasing to the point breathing is hard and you're almost choking back cries and shouts, holding for dear life to him, your screwed nails digging on the crevices of his faceplate and neck guard as he holds your body with both servos to that tiny and warm place in the junction of his helm and his neck guard.

A safe place, where his body overlaps yours, his engine and the power on it a silent promise that he is strong enough to fight for you both, increasing with your cries and the goosebumps, an answer to his EM field, telling you "I'm here, I'll protect you", your physical reaction, your way to show him "I feel you, I know" when his digits pass over your skin so delicately.

It was a trial and error these years, laughing hard when his anger made your hair stand up, give comfort when you didn't feel much, feeling overwhelmed and all little hair up when he was playful and happy.

Feeling out of your body when he was trying to comfort you.

"I want this to end"

"I miss them so much"

"If I ever know who made that gun!"

"Please don't leave me too"

"I want them in pieces!"

"Don't ever let me go"

Next thing you knew, Sideswipe was trying to wake you up, saying something about a "I'll see you later" that was barely registered as your eyes were too swollen to see him right, the coldness in the base is too strong and makes you hold the blanket he left above you, is it late? Why is he saying that? When did you fall sleep and when did he let go of you? You can barely think straight, the alcohol doing an inside mess, Sideswipe holding you near again, the best you both could do for a hug, you could only do so much with your head all foggy and painful as he left you to rest, that sensation of vibration as you're swallowed inside his EM field again, nuzzled by his faceplate, the light of his optics showering you, barely alert to give back the hug, holding to his olfactory ridge and making him chuckle, smiling back, hearing him happy after so long, if only for a minute, feeling him gone the next and holding the blanket close, preserve his digits' feeling above you, his warmth enclosed in that blanket for as long as it could be.

Hours later, and the next thing you know is that most autobots are gone, everyone is sitting in the dinner salon of the Skywatch's base, watching the news, your relief of Bumblebee once again on his feet is washed away once someone tell you that Sideswipe left with Optimus to Cybertron.

One hour later, and you're left to question yourself what comes next, holding the blanket to your body, and realizing that it's the vicuna one you bought, and that Sideswipe left the paper crane you gifted him years ago just next to your sleeping body, as you ask yourself what you could have said in your intoxicated pain that made that hot head take his few things and go to a barren and deadly planet once again, trying to comfort yourself that it wasn't caused by something you said.

But that monster in your head says otherwise, telling you that if you lost Sideswipe too was because you showed your pain and grief, everything is your fault.

It's all your fault, and Sideswipe will never come back, either by being shot where you can't help him or by finally realizing you aren't that different from other humans.

"Humans are all the same", Sunstreaker once said when he tried to brush you off, and maybe he was right about you.

Do you even recognize who you're now?

[aerodaltonimperial]

hello katy. i had just the most fucked up thought about your split jack au and ive never used tumblr before but im learning how to send an ask right now because i NEED to know what you think of this.

does julia… tell jungle boy that he’s going to forget? those five years that he goes back and changes for the better— surely julia knows that when the time comes, the jungle boy that got sent back to 2019 and changed jack’s world for the better will become nothing but a memory that everyone but jack himself will be aware of. and if julia tells him… lets him know that his time is limited… does jungle boy not do it all anyways?

does he make every decision in this new timeline knowing that he’s setting up a life for the jack who deserves it most and not himself? when the days tick down and he knows he’s running out of time… does he leave notes for jack? does he leave notes for darby? how do you explain to the person that matters most in your life that one day you’re going to wake up and be replaced with someone a thousand times more scared and broken, and you need to love him just as much as you love me now, because he’s me, and i love him too?

im sorry you fucked my whole world up and i hate you and ive been crying about it for days. im sending you an edible arrangements. fucking god damn it man

Yo, you just fucking CHANGED MY WORLD with this ask. Like, this.... this is the stuff I legitimately DID NOT LET MYSELF THINK ABOUT when I was writing that because this is so much. Jesus CHRIST. I am... I am sitting with this because I am going to be really honest with you, I don't know the answers. The only thing I can say that I leaned on during this was the traveler's immunity concept: that essentially, the person doing the changing is immune from shifting when everything else does. And it's that immunity that all of this hinges upon. 2024 Jack has the immunity, and he is the original remnant that will remain.

Would Julia tell Jack, the Jack that is going to become nothing once the timelines merge? I presume that, eventually, she would. But what he DOES with that information? Oh my god. I don't even know. This ask has fundamentally changed me as a person LOL. I imagine... in a perfect world, that Jack does leave notes for himself. Because in the end, that's who he is doing this for: a better future, even though he won't be there to experience it once the right time hits. He got a gift. And he is giving one back. A huge, monumental gift that he will never get to see through to the end. But that's what so much of that fic really ended up being about, in the end: forgiving and loving yourself. He would want himself to have SOMETHING to figure his way around, even if it's just important dates. Anniversaries. When events happened. When things DIDN'T happen.

Would he warn Darby? Honestly, I'm less clear on that one. Because at his core, Jack knows that would change them, in his present. And if he had limited time, I don’t know. Would he be able to tell Darby, knowing that it would fundamentally change everything? Would he be able to say, hey, I'm not going to be here anymore, at least not the way you knew me? Man. I don't know. How do you warn someone that you are going to disappear, but that part of you will remain? And that part isn't going to understand that love should be soft? Or that you don't have to fear letting someone in? Or that people, deep down, care about you? How do you prepare someone for that?

This is the most fucking horrible and amazing ask I have ever received. I'm going to frame it on my wall. I'm going to be thinking about this for days. Holy shit, man. As for the notes that Jack could leave for himself, for when he's gone? Let him cook for you, it makes him happy. When you argue, he'll need to go blow off steam before he comes back. I never told him about what happened in that jump, but I also didn't lie when I told him he was all of the firsts.

You told me that love wasn't real. Well, he loves you, and it's the realest fucking thing in the world.

[galesdekariios]

Betrayal (Gale x Wynmoira)

Hello lovelies! I wrote a little thing for my babes, Wynmoira and Gale. It's a little angsty but I couldn't help but have a little inspo during my playthrough to write. More will definitely come from them, so be on the lookout!

Part [1] (you are here). Part [2].

can find it on my ao3 here

The branches crunched beneath Wynmoira's feet. Her body ached all over; she was sticky, covered in a thick layer of blood, guts, and goo. A few strands of hair stuck firmly against her moist cheeks. Gods, was she desperately in need of a bath. She couldn't wait to be free of her ruined clothing, to submerge herself entirely in the warm waters by camp. A faint smile crept on her lips at the thought alone.

Wynmoira, Shadowheart, Astarion, and Gale were returning from their battle against Auntie Ethel. The battle was a rough one; Wynmoira was distracted the entire time. Her mind kept going elsewhere, causing her to miss a few spells here and there. If it weren't for Shadowheart dealing the final blow, Wynmoira probably wouldn't have returned to camp in one piece. Shadowheart didn't let it go unnoticed. She called her out for her lack of action, which Wynmoira quietly apologized for. She eventually went silent, too tired to continue arguing. Her eyes then glanced over to Gale.

His face was equally covered in blood, guts, and goo. He was just as tired and beaten as she was. But he walked with a stride that she always secretly admired. But right now, she couldn't feel admiration for the man. She felt a twang of jealousy, slight anger. Before their battle, he finally admitted why he needed to consume magical items. He was a walking time bomb, and it was all because of his intense love for Mystra, the Goddess of Magic herself. Hearing him go into brief detail about his love for her goddess brought a sour taste to her mouth. At first, she found it disrespectful to her deity. But then, feelings of jealousy began to form.

They had been traveling together for quite some time now. They've spent countless nights around a campfire, enjoying Gale's cooking for the group, discussing their favorite books, and making one another laugh during these troubling times. Whether she wanted to admit it to herself or not, Wynmoira began falling for the man. Things have changed since that night when they were messing around with the Weave. There were longing glances from time to time, her strong desire always to have Gale accompany her during their outings, even opening up more to him about her past. She felt more comfortable with him, something she hadn't experienced in so long.

But now, she can't help but feel like all that was for nothing.

"I hope Karlach has something cooked up. Honestly, I could go for a nicely cooked chevon," Gale smiled, gently patting his stomach. His eyes fell onto Wynmoira. Her breath caught in her chest momentarily as she locked eyes with him. "What about you, Wynnie?"

Wynnie. It was something only Gale would call her. Typically, hearing it brought small butterflies to her stomach and made her heart race. But now, it was different. It was like a punch to the gut. Reminding her that despite how close they had been becoming, it would never be as close as he was with Mystra. She mentally cursed herself for thinking such negative thoughts about her patron. She cursed Gale, too, for making her feel this way.

"I'll settle for berries," Wynmoira replied flatly. The smile fell from Gale's face, and he watched as Wynmoira picked up pace, now leading the tired group. Some smoke could be seen in the distance, letting the party know they were almost home. Wynmoira pushed past a few branches until she saw their camp. Karlach was gathered around the campfire, eating soup from a bowl and chatting with Wyll. Their eyes darted towards the incoming crowd, smiling.

"About damn time you got here," Karlach called out with a large smile. "I made soup," she raised a bowl towards Shadowheart. "And it's edible," Wyll teased, earning a playful kick from Karlach. Shadowheart smiled faintly, letting out a tired laugh. She didn't hesitate to make it to her tent. No doubt, she wanted to be free of dirt and bodily fluids before chowing down.

"I'm sure it'll be great, Karlach," Wynmoira smiled. "Just gotta freshen up first, then I'll join you guys." She turned her attention to her chest that rested beside Shadowheart's tent. She carefully undid a few of her bindings, allowing her to remove her armor and place them on the ground, leaving her in her dirtied tunic. Beside the chest was a bucket of water. She scrubbed the grime off her hands and fingers for a few minutes before being satisfied. She grabbed a change of clothes and a cloth to help her dry off after her bath. She made her way through the woods. There was a small river nearby, one that only Wynmoira seemed to know about. She tossed her change of clothes on a small stump before she began to free herself from her blood-soaked clothing slowly. The material practically stuck to her skin, and after a few moments of struggling, she was finally free. She tossed the clothes on the ground and slowly entered the river.

The water was cool on her skin, and she welcomed it. The night seemed hot, and the stark contrast was something she welcomed. She didn't stop until the water was just barely below her collarbone. She wiped at her skin under the water, trying to loosen the gunk from her body. She then pinched her nose, dipping beneath the water. She stayed under for a few moments, enjoying the silence. There were no chirping birds, no sounds of a busy city, no voices.

Just her.

For that moment, she could forget about everything. She could forget about her urges, pushing her to do horrendous things to innocents. She could forget about the tadpole wiggling around in her skull. She could forget about the trouble within the Grove. But most importantly, she could forget about Gale. Be free of the thoughts that plagued her mind, the thoughts of him making love with Mystra.

When she couldn't handle it anymore, she came up for air. She let out a few deep breaths. She was pushing herself, maybe even punishing herself. Why did she let herself get close to Gale? Why did she have to let him in? If she kept him at arm's length like she did everyone else, maybe she wouldn't be feeling this way. Why was he so nice, so welcoming?

Why did he have to tell her about him sleeping with Mystra?

Damn. She cursed under her breath, realizing how aggressive she was being with her hands as she scrubbed at her body. It didn't take long until she was clean, free of dirt or grime. She exited the water, dried herself off, and changed into clean clothes. She wrapped her dirty clothes in the cloth and carried it back to camp before discarding it with her dirtied armor. She made her way to the campfire, where Gale had joined Wyll and Karlach.

He was clean; his hair was wet with nice waves that rested just slightly past his shoulders. He had a large smile, which used to bring butterflies and warmness to Wynmoira's face. She said nothing to him, focusing on the soup Karlarch had made that rested in a pot above the fire. She made herself a bowl before sitting next to Karlach, wanting to be as far away from Gale as possible.

"And after all that, it turns out the old Hag tricked the poor girl! Her husband came back all right but as a zombie!" Gale boomed. He recounted their adventure, a sharp reminder to be careful about what you wished for. He took a spoonful of soup before turning his attention to Wynmoira. He noticed how quiet she was. His brows furrowed as he tried to study her, reading her face to figure out what was wrong. "Wynnie, are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she replied flatly. She brought a spoon to her lips, sipping on the soup. It wasn't anything too special. It was potato soup, though there were some uneven chunks of potato. Despite the possible choking hazard, the soup wasn't too bad.

"Are you sure? You're more quiet than usual," Wyll asked. Karlach gave Wynmoira a slight nudge with her arm, carefully searching her companion's face. Wynmoira's lips were slightly downturned, and Karlach could tell something was off. Wynmoira locked eyes with the Tiefling momentarily and gently shook her head.

"I think we should call it a night," Karlach suggested. She then yawned, stood up, and headed to Wyll. "Besides, we got a long day ahead of us tomorrow, and you need your beauty sleep," she teased Wyll. He scoffed playfully at her words as he stood up. He said his goodnights to Wynmoira and Gale before leaving the two alone at the campfire.

The silence was loud between the two. The only noise between the two was the crackling of the fire before them. Wynmoira tried to enjoy her dinner, but she had no appetite. She idly stirred her soup before Gale finally broke the silence between them.

"Was it something I did?" He asked finally. Wynmoira took a deep breath before she spoke. She was mentally trying to play out this scenario. Does she tell him the truth, a half-truth, or a lie? She wasn't ready to come out and say she was jealous of her patron or feeling insecure about it all.

"I just..." She paused for a moment, trying to think of what to say. "I just didn't like how you kept your orb a secret," she lied. Her eyes finally lifted from her soup, meeting his dark brown eyes. "I thought we were friends, honest with one another, no secrets, you know?"

He breathed, placing his bowl on the ground before settling beside her. He radiated a warmth she'd come to love. A warmth she found so welcoming, a warmth she'd come to crave. But now, she felt uneasy.

"I know I should've said something sooner. Frankly, I didn't know how to go about telling it. And thought I had everything under control." He rubbed at the back of his neck sheepishly.

"But you don't," Wynmoira protested. "You're a ticking bomb, and you did all this for power? For a woman?" Her voice cracked slightly. She felt a lump form in her throat as she felt herself grow a mixture of anger and sadness. He was willing to risk his life all for power. He didn't have to do that. She would've never made him do something so reckless, she thought.

He sighed, breaking eye contact with Wynmoira. "You don't understand. You don't know what it's like to be loved by Mystra. It's a powerful thing, something so strong it hurts, something that can't ever be matched."

His words stung. The way he talked about their relationship, it made her heart sink. She couldn't compete with something like that. She hoped for something special with Gale, but there was no way he'd go for someone like her. She was a simple human, there was nothing truly special about her. How could she ever be better with the Goddess Mystra? She felt her eyes begin to sting, tears quickly forming and threatening to fall down her cheeks. She couldn't cry. She didn't want him to see her like this.

"Nothing is worth risking your life like that." She placed her bowl on the ground. She stood up, ready to leave him alone, but she was stopped when he reached out to her, crabbing her wrist.

"Wyn, don't go," he pleaded. She hated herself for feeling like this. She hated herself for trusting him so easily. She hated herself from letting herself fall for him. She hated him for welcoming her. She hated him for making her believe that there was a chance for her to be happy, to find happiness with someone. But he was still caught up on his love for Mystra. Her eyes met his and his mouth dropped slightly.

No doubt he could see the tears forming in her eyes. A tear or two had fallen down her cheek, and his heart sunk. She was crying, and it was all because of him. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her. He tried to open his mouth to protest her leaving, but she cut him off.

"I think it'll be best for you to stay at camp for a bit," she quietly said. She sniffled before her eyes meeting his. Her stare was colder than normal. "It's been a rough couple of days. You could use the rest." She wiggled her wrist free from his grasp before retreating to her tent for the night.

[ticklishthoughts1]

The Painter

SO=Your Significant Other(The ler/dom in this Scenario)

YN=You(The reader)

NN=YN’s Special Nickname(Given by SO)

You had been hanging out with SO and a group of your mutual friends for about the last hour and a half, give or take. Throughout, you had decided to be a little brat, under the safety of being with the group, something you knew wouldn’t last long, but still. It was fun, messing with them, knowing that at least for now, they couldn’t retaliate. Suddenly, one of the friends asks if you guys had time later. SO shakes his head no, and with a pointed look, says softly “ YN and I, we’re going to be painting Later.” You hold back a small flustered noise, that, apart from a Satisfied smile from your SO, and a couple inquiring looks, no one notices. The friend who asks accepts the excuse with a “Ahh, some other time then! You guys have fun ^^”. SO Smirks, muttering to themselves “trust me, we will~”. Shit. The moment is no further mentioned after that, though your friends notice that you’re a lot more giggly now, a claim which you vehemently deny. Soon enough though, it’s time to go home, and you head back with SO in their car. They Let you have Aux, and you jam to the music, singing all of the songs (sometimes horribly, sometimes well) While they smile to themselves at your silliness. Soon enough though, you’re home, and you head inside together. They head in after you, and the second the door closes, so too does their entire demeanor. The calm, small smile changes into an Evil one, and they silently beckon to the bedroom. With a giggle of anticipation, you nod, briskly walking to it with a bit of a skip in your step. They follow, a hand on the small of your back, not to guide you, but simply because they feel the need to keep a hand on you most times, as if reassurance that you’re there. They lead you over to the bed, and gently lay you on it, Kissing your forehead, before saying in a low, smooth voice "Stay right here, NN. I'll be back~". God, that nickname always gets to you!~ You stay sitting there, giggling to yourself until SO comes back , with the necessary tools for you two to be “Painting”. Jars of Edible paint, and homemade edible ink, in all kinds of colors. A cup filled with paintbrushes, pens (already filled with the Edible ink), and feather quills. Electric toothbrushes, washrags, scrub brushes, all of which had been bought earlier for this specific purpose. They Grin, and Let out in a low, playful voice “Come here, my muse~”. A blush lighting up your face, you Oblige, coming over to sit in their lap. They play with your hair, humming to themselves, as they carefully pick out a brush and a paint. They giggle at the blush on your face, drawling out "I haven't even started yet cutie!~ No time like the present though~". You feel a finger traced across your jawline, tilting it up, then, you suddenly have the urge to giggle, as you feel a soft, small brush across your neck. It’s unexpected, and you jerk away, trying to swing out of it’s range. SO makes a noise of mock frustration, playfully saying “Damn! I messed up, it seems. Guess I have to restart~” You squeak out a “NOhohoho!~” Before they grab your chin powerfully, holding your jaw in place as the buzz of an electric toothbrush goes over your small pleads and Sorry’s. You feel the evil tool being gently pressed against your neck, and you do your best to scrunch it, bursting into giggles. Luckily, it only takes a little bit for the paint to be cleaned off, and for SO to start over, whispering firmly “NN, Hold Still.” You nod a bit as they restart. This time, expecting it, you’re able to hold still, giggling helplessly as you’re painted. You do a decent job keeping still as they paint over you, until they start tracing something directly up your ribcage. Your jerk backward into them, feeling the line move to the side as you do, and Immedeately laughing out “WAHAHAIT PLEHEASE!”. SO Chuckles, and purrs “Tsk Tsk Tsk~ I gave you one Job, YN. Couldn’t even stay still?” (Cont, another 2 Parter)