#I try constantly to be there for you. to help you feel better. and what do I get? namedropped on your vent blog like I’m the bad guy

[tojisteddy]

Cry Baby | 1.4k words (gawd damn), 18+ mdni, smut with a little plot, dacryphilia, daddy kink

Simon Riley is used to making people cry.

Whether it be from heartbreak, his tall and muscular build in addition to the mask scaring children, from being too blunt, cursing men & women out, making them feel too good when he’s stuffed them full of his cock— he was used to the tears.

But you, you were an anomaly.

Sometimes you’d cry when Simon was being too mean, cry over a good movie— tears would brim to your lashes when he’d kiss you after you two would make up because you were stupid in love with the brute. But sometimes you’d hold it. A trait that Simon hated because it was like he was dealing with a different person.

He knew you were off when the two of you went shopping (for your closet of course) and you didn’t say much except ‘I like whatever you like Si.’ You’d be in and out of conversation, ‘hm?’ and ‘what’d ya say?’ constantly leaving your mouth. He’d already known you we’re past your limit, but you wouldn’t say a word. Usually by the first or second day you’d fess up on your own, voice horse, gripping at his shirt, big brown eyes averting his own because you were too embarrassed. ‘can we- can we talk? just for a bit?’

His cute princess.

But now, a week had passed. He expected to hear those heart aching sobs after he heard you telling off your younger German shepherd, Fish (yes, Fish) to ‘let go’ and ‘it’s mine, Fish!’ He’d found the dog with your favorite worn out sweater, now ripped and tattered, in his mouth as he laid on the couch. Not a peep came from your lips. So the man was forced to push you to talk. Not an issue. He’d done it before.

“Got somethin’ y’wanna say t’me?”

You glanced over at the older man. He was leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over his chest and looking at you dead on. You shifted on your feet. You hated when he stared, it was like he was reading you like a book and tarring out the pages for good keeping.

You went back to getting the dog food ready for their last meal of the day, “nope.”

Stubborn. Simon found it funny sometimes when you picked up some of his traits, that included that stubbornness that popped out when you were agitated. But you weren’t supposed to be like Daddy, no, you’re supposed to be better. Simon would make you better.

“Don’t be hard headed swee’ art. Y’know better.”

He’d practically pushed you into a corner with his words alone. It wasn’t just intimidation, it was a clear warning. You needed out. So you spoke whatever words were at the forefront of your mind.

“Then I just don’t have anythin to say to you.”

The man was dumbfounded, head tilting to the side in awe. He didn’t expect that answer of all things and you casually went to go feed the dogs like you hadn’t said anything. A deep chuckle fills the silent walls of the kitchen.

Cute little thing. Loveable thing. His babygirl.

You didn’t wanna cry? Didn’t wanna talk? Fine.

Simon would fuck it out of you.

“Wait- hmph- w-wait Daddy I don’t-“

“Y’talk now? Thaaa’s a shocker.”

“No- I- s’tooooo much Daddy! I don’t like it like-nnnggh this!”

Simon rolled his eyes, of course you didn’t like it. It was when you felt undeniable, inescapable pleasure. He’d have you in a headlock, all of his weight completely pressed against you, rolling his hips as his girth stretched out your sweet pink walls. The room was completely filled with your moans and the smacking of his balls hitting your ass as he bottomed out with each stroke.

How many times had you cum already?

It didn’t fucking matter if tears weren’t coming out yet. And he wasn’t just aiming for those regular small ‘feel good’ tears, he needed those belligerent sobs that made your throat hurt. The blonde liked to call it ‘regulating emotions.’ When you couldn’t do it yourself of course Daddy would help. What else was he there for?

Your eyes were at the back of your skull, long manicured nails clawing at his arm and trying to get ahold of yourself. You felt delirious and you’d only cum twice but Simon kept pushing you like he wanted something out of you. The truth, you shook your head at your own thoughts. No way, you were fine. This was— god, the bastard, the ghost himself was dragging himself in and out of you, in and out, harsh and slow. Just so you could hear the squelching of your sopping cunt and get you completely embarrassed and moaning at the sound.

“Si- let’s- a break— mmmgghhh- we- oh fuck daddy- break? annngh p-please?” You whined out.

“ ‘Nd why would y’need a break when you’ve been a lazy fuckin bitch this whole time?”

A military man who could lie in an instant.

He hadn’t told you to do a single thing tonight but he needed a reaction out of you. He scuffed, pulling his strawberry red dick out of you with a loud ‘pop’ and turning you on your side. Throwing one of your legs over his shoulder and straddling your other thigh. He slapped his aching tip on your drenched hole, there you were clenching over nothing.

“Didn’t wanna talk this whole time but now ya got shit to say.” Simon slammed every fucking inch of him inside of your oh-so tight cunt making him throw his head back. “The fuckin nerve of ya.”

“I- wait-“

“-Thought ya were my good girl, but you’re just a stupid slut for daddy’s cock.”

A hiccup.

He looked down at your pretty face and- oh. there it was. There it fuckin was. That sickeningly adorable trembling pout on your two tone lips, real tears spilling out of your eye ducts and meeting the pillow as he repeatedly slammed into your gushing walls. Was it sick for him to crave it? Yes. But the big guy couldn’t help himself, he loved seeing pretty girls cry for him. Even better when he had a good reason to get it out of you. You felt the knots in your stomach building, even worse as Simon pressed a hand on your stomach as his dick poked out. A string of grumbled curses leaving his mouth at the feel of it.

You gasped, pushing at his abdomen, “Daddy nooo- it’s really too much! I- I-”

“—Nuh-uh. Stop fightin it and give it t’me. Give. It. To. Me.”

Your orgasm was harshly yanked out of you, screaming at the top of your lungs— thank fuck you two lived in the middle of the woods. You’d finally let that week old sob out of your throat, fat salty tears spilling out at everything because you really did feel everything at the moment. All the sadness was now washing over you like a wave mixed along with the high of cumming. An insane combination.

“Therrrre you go pup. Creaming all over me, all while bein so. damn. pretty. Want my cum baby girl? Hmm? Shit baby, you wanna feel full with Daddy?”

You couldn’t even find your words, just pulling at his hips to feel him deeper inside you. And it was so warm, so- loving when he came inside you, Simon making sure you took every drop till you couldn’t anymore. He cupped your face in his big hands, wiping away the tears that continued to fall. So fuckin cute. He’d sit you up, still on his cock of course, leaning back with his propped up arms and peering down at you.

“Gonna tell me what’s wrong or it’s still not for your Daddy t’hear?”

You sniffed, big brown puppy dog eyes looking up at the man full of scars.

“E-everyone-“ you let out a shaky breath, “everyone’s so damn mean Si.”

And you went on and on about your completely shitty week, from your job, to missing the train right when you needed it to Fish ripping apart your favorite fucking sweater. And Simon was there, attentive but silent, listening to every word uttered. Wiping away the stray tears with a thumb and pinching your cheek. His silly girl, adorable princess. Held it in for nothing, as if he wouldn’t be there to comfort you. Silly, silly girl. He’d fix that too, but for now—

“Want me t’take care of ya? Hm lovie?” His lips met yours, fitting the two like a missing puzzle piece. You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing the blonde man closer and pressing yourself against him. You didn’t say a word. You didn’t have to.

He snickered against your lips, “Course ya do, baby, course ya fuckin do.”

a/n: kinda on Simon kick. Also the gaggery of my last post about him. Thank you guys so much. You probably won’t read this again but reading while listening to Cry Baby by SZA or Janis Joplin>>>

most recent masterlist

[kaxserlvr]

Toxicbf!kaiser who always puts soccer above you. He doesn’t think twice cancelling dates for training or matches if it would mean becoming the best.“You should’ve known what you were getting into”

Toxicbf!kaiser who avoids serious discussions. He hates emotional confrontations, can’t handle them and will dodge it or dismiss it completely. “We’re doing fine, why ruin the atmosphere?”

Toxicbf!Kaiser whose ego is his biggest flaw. He will constantly prioritise himself and make you an afterthought not an equal completely disregarding your feelings . May even seem like he’s looking down on you. “You should feel lucky you’re with me”

Toxicbf!kaiser who doesn’t apologise. Even when he knows he’s in the wrong(which is rare lol) he’d prefer to straight up ignore it or buy expensive gifts in hopes you’ll forget. He hates the feeling of being vulnerable.

Toxicbf!Kaiser when you start to pull away from him will act like it doesn’t bother him(it does). He thinks you’re just trying to get a reaction from him, he’d call it “cute” He fully thinks you’ll come back(until you dont)

Toxicbf!Kaiser who feels something disgusting stir in him when he sees you talking to someone with a smile you no longer show him. He suddenly has a strong urge to be near you to show you’re his glaring at the person.” Are they bothering you,hm?”

Toxicbf!kaiser who starts to panic when he realises you’re genuinely getting tired of him. He’ll try to act like it doesn’t bother him but starts to notice how you don’t wait up for him at night, you dont try to start small chats, you no longer look at him,you no longer send him cute messages on how he’s doing. He’s starting to sound desperate.”Talk to me” “where are you?”

Toxicbf!kaiser who uses anger as a defence. He’ll try to blame you for his issues since it’s hard for him to take the fault. Truth is beneath all the anger is fear-fear of losing the one person that makes him feel something. “So that’s it? You’re just gonna give up on me?”

Toxicbf!kaiser who finally breaks and apologies. Seeing you slip away for good causes him to drop the act. No more looking down,no more games. He looks desperate and his usual cocky voice is replaced by something quieter “I’ve never done this…I- I don’t know how to be…I don’t want to loose you..” hed swallow his pride and admit he’s wrong if it means not losing you “I know I messed up and should’ve treated you better..I’m sorry”

Toxicbf!Kaiser who’d give you space but still be available. Texting you so he can remember you’re still here “have you eaten?” “What did you do today?”

If you choose to leave him for good …he’d take it hard and he wouldn’t be the same. Hed spend most of his time on soccer to try forget everything and his emptiness. It does pay off as he improves even more and becoming the best of the best but when he scores the winning goal and everyone cheers for him he instinctively looks for you in the crowd-to see your not there-he realises how bad he lost

But if you choose to give him a chance…you can see he’s nervous he will mess up again by the way he fidgets more around you. You two would have a talk and Kaiser would open up about his fears and insecurities he’s had and hed promise to work on himself and you promise to help communicate more so you guys can grow from this for the future.

[elstattoo]

𝙇𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙊𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙙𝙪𝙚

MINORS DNI, MEN DNI

WC: 5.5k

Summary: Ellie invites you to a dance in Jackson, and you finally decided it was the night to make a move.

Content: 18+, jackson! ellie, loser! ellie, smut, public sex, switch! ellie, switch/sub! reader, fingering (e), scissoring, breeding kink, praise/dirty talk

Author’s Note: Hello! I finally finished this fic from my first request. I hope you guys enjoy! Sorry if it’s not exactly what was wanted… scissoring is just hot ☹️

Ellie felt like at any moment she might crack. The pressure of Jackson slowly getting to her, patrols dragging on constantly, and tonight… Of course, it was the party she’d dreaded since the posters were plastered around town. Everywhere, haunting her. No matter where she turned.  

She’d heard by ear from none other than Dina and Jesse, the two nagging her to invite you to go. The idea made butterflies flutter inside her stomach, cheeks burning — the stutter not going unnoticed by Dina, who teased her. 

Ellie felt herself wanting to hurl, anxiety overtaking her emotions as she finally braced herself to knock on your front door. Finally finding the courage to ask you to the party, even if it was tonight. Better late than never. With sweaty, shaky hands she knocked on your door, backing away afterward and tugging to fidget the sleeves of her flannel.  

The sound of your door opening made her jump, eyes jolting up to your familiar face. Her heart pumping in her ears, fidgeting, halting, before she cleared her throat to speak. “Hey, sorry for randomly dropping by… Just was wondering if you’d like to uh… Come to the dance with me?”

There you stood, hand still on the door with a confused look on your face at Ellie’s unexpected appearance before your lips morphed into a smile. You waved her in, “Let’s talk inside, Ellie.”

Still scatterbrained, Ellie nodded, following after you inside to the warmth of your home. The door closed with a click, and you hummed, turning to face her. “So… The dance you say? Yeah, I’d love to go with you! Also… why are you just wearing a flannel right now?” Your eyebrows furrowed upon seeing the light material draping over her shoulders, confusion to her idea of protection from the cold. 

Ellie’s mouth almost fell open, her jaw would be on the floor if it could be from how shocked she was. Ellie tried to shake off the feeling, tongue swiping over to wet her dry lips. “Yeah, and you’re like a house over from me…. It’s not THAT cold,” Ellie shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. Even though the weather in Jackson had her shivering at times, especially during the winter months. 

You let out a snort, walking over to Ellie, who stood awkwardly in the middle of your house — not knowing where to place herself. “Don’t play smart with me, we all know you’re freezing your ass off.”

Ellie shuffles at your words, “Oh, shut up, I’m fine!” She rolled her eyes, playfully, a grin stretching across her face. The jokes helped ease her anxiety, reminding her it was just you, and at the end of the day you were one of her closest friends, in all of Jackson. 

You returned her eye roll with your own, using your elbow to shove her into the side. She groaned, grabbing her side dramatically, and glaring at you. “How dare you?!” She gasps out, “Hitting my most vulnerable spot. Could’ve killed me…”  

That had you both erupting into a fit of laughter, you both almost felt like kids again from the exchanges you’d share like this. When the laughter in your chest finally died down, you were finally able to find the words to speak. 

“Seriously, though, I’d love to go to the dance with you. You should’ve asked me sooner!” 

Ellie let out a sigh and leaned her frame against your kitchen counter, “Fuck… Dunno you know how I am. Just get in my head and stuff.” 

Ellie always second-guessed everything she did when it came to you. No matter how much she journaled away her thoughts and feelings about you, she never could calm down the nerves that erupted when she was with you. 

Your hand brushed her shoulder, a shiver shot down her spine. Another reason, she second-guessed things, your friendship — was for reasons exactly like this. The way you held your hand on her shoulder, gently humming and holding eye contact with her made her crumble.

“We’re friends, El. You don’t have to be worried, not like I’d say no,” you whispered, so sweetly, leaning close to her ear, breath fanning the outer shell, and your hand was still pressed onto her shoulder. Then, in a blink of an eye you moved away again.

She nodded, “Yeah, of course. I’m really happy you agreed to come with me, I should uh… Go home and clean up before then… See you in a few hours?” She nervously smiled at you, still recovering from the littlest bit of contact you held on her shoulder. Ellie aways tried to play off your touches, even the lingering ones as something you did with everyone. 

“Of course, see you soon, El.” Your smile that held so much affection, adoration never left your face as you held the door open for her and waved goodbye, even waiting a few seconds to watch her silhouette leave your walkway to make her way home. 

Ellie huffed out a sigh of relief as she made it inside the warmth of her room. She collapsed onto her bed, a million thoughts drifting through her head, ones of excitement and anticipation of what the night would bring. 

Lying in her bed with her thoughts wasn’t doing her any good, she laid up, and walked over to her desk to jot in her journal.

“Holy fuck, still cannot believe she said yes,” Ellie whispered, grabbing a pen and opening to a blank page. She always started her entries on new pages, or sometimes even updated them, later in the day. 

Ellie got to writing, finding it somewhat therapeutic to write out how she feels. She found it easier to spill it on paper, finding it complicated telling people how she felt. A diary allowed Ellie the ability to illustrate and write about how she felt, and keep it to herself. She always carried the small notebook with her, even on patrol. 

‘I asked her to the dance, she said yes, touched my arm!!!! Doesn’t mean anything Ellie! It does DONT! FUCK! UP! YOUR! FRIENDSHIP!’ 

Ellie messily scribbled a sketch of you, faint from memory alongside the words. She felt relief, dropping the pen after she finished her last scribbles and closed the diary. Even in her own room, she was paranoid someone would discover her journal so she never left it open. 

Ellie threw on a new pair of clothes, gave her half bun a quick fix, and loosely pulled on a red flannel. She noted she’d take an extra jacket for the party due to how cold it was earlier, shaking her head to herself at how right you’d been. She always pretended like she hated your teasing, it doing the opposite effect — making her more flustered about how you can combat her. 

Ellie felt more confident about the party, knowing you’d be together. She knew Dina and Jesse would be there, but often they’d get too lost in each other, and she’d become the third wheel. 

Ellie checked herself one more time in the mirror, her eyes scanning over the outfit. Her free piece of hair that often frames her face fell out, pinned back previously in a poor attempt, she blew at it, rolling her eyes and just let the damn strand of hair be. 

She checked the small clock by her bedside table, the numbers reading 5:30. Ellie bit her lip, noting she should leave now to your house. You weren’t far away, so she threw on her jacket and threaded through the frigid air of Jackson to your house.

Ellie was thankful you lived only a few houses away from Joel’s, she eyed the familiar path up to your doorway that she walked on, merely only a few hours ago. Unbeknownst to Ellie, you caught sight of her through your window and had the door opened before she could knock. 

Ellie sheepishly smiled at you upon taking in your appearance, her eyes raking over your outfit and how effortlessly gorgeous you looked. Her eyes were lingering on each article of clothing you wore, still taking in the aura you emitted, Ellie’s breath catching in her throat the more she looked at you.

She blinked, shaking her head quickly, “Hey! Are you ready for the party?”

With that she earned a giggle from you, the sound causing her cheeks to darken. “Yeah, let’s go,” you muttered, shrugging on your coat, closing your door behind you. Ellie waited for you on the bottom step, you bounced down the stairs and grasped one of her hands hanging by her side. 

The darkness of the night helped mask the bright pink her face was right now, hiding away her embarrassment from you. Even with gloves on both your hands to shield them away from the frosty air outside, Ellie felt sparks walking hand and hand with you to the party.

The two of you walked in silence to the center of town, the snow crunched beneath your feet, even when you weren’t talking, being together was pleasant. Ellie was the kind of person that, although she’s usually reserved with everyone in town, is the most caring for those she loves. That included you. She was particularly protective of you, even in the walls of Jackson. Another reason she was happy to accompany you to the dance; claiming you away for herself. 

You suddenly felt Ellie squeeze your hand, checking in on you, to which you nodded and squeezed back. A toothy smile blossoming on your face, one that made her want to pause that moment in time, capturing it on a camera forever. 

Unfortunately for her, she had to shake her head, Ellie smiling to herself as the two of you continued hand and hand to the party.

The party was loud, lights strung about the large room, helping further light the place and set an atmosphere for the party. Due to the time, the sun was already setting, the large windows dimming the room, lessening the natural light. A long food and drink table was placed in the corner with an assortment of different snacks and beverages. People were already dancing, chatting away, and drinking in their own groups. Thrown about were a few tables and chairs to eat and rest at.

Dina spotted the two of you entering hand and hand, Jesse stood next to Dina, wiggling his eyebrows at Ellie as the pair of you made your way over. Ellie rolled her eyes back into her skull seeing that you, however, were taking in the scenery and your surroundings. Ellie was thankful you didn’t witness Jesse’s stupidity. 

You greeted Dina and Jesse with a wave, your precious smile still etched on your face the whole way into the party. You let go of Ellie’s hand to remove your gloves, shoving them into your pocket, Ellie copied you and did the same. 

Dina smirked, a knowing grin on her face. She looked over at the two of you, still clad in your winter jackets. She clicked her tongue, shaking her head, “Let’s get these off and hang them up with the rest of them. With the heater in here you’ll overheat.”

“Thank you! You’re a lifesaver for already knowing where it goes, lead the way,” you muttered and you all went to hang up your jackets on the various free hooks available before heading back outside to grab food and drinks. 

Ellie took in your appearance once more: with your coat off, the fuzzy blue sweater you wore, long black jeans and combat boots appropriate for the raw bitter air that lasted for months until spring. Anything you wore complimented you perfectly, bringing out and enhancing your features, which Ellie loved, and the faint fairy lights kissed your skin so effortlessly. To say you were beautiful was an understatement, Ellie didn’t understand how you existed in a world like theirs. You were too good for this horrible, cruel world.

She felt her heartbeat speeding up, especially with your hand back in hers, dragging her over to the plethora of drinks laid out to offer. You hummed softly, eyes scanning over the many options, and finally deciding upon some vodka and lemonade. Ellie picked her own drink, the two of you dropping hands, sweaty from the connection. 

Dina and Jesse fiddled around and picked their own drinks, Dina topping off her previous one. Jesse took a sip, wincing slightly at the tang of the alcohol on his tongue. “Shit, this is strong,” he coughed, eyes closing in disgust. He scrambled to add some juice to it or something to make the drink less strong.

Dina, Ellie, and you stifled back laughter at his facial expression. Dina patted his back, “Can’t overdo it, babe,” she nonchalantly shrugged.

Jesse rolled his eyes, you sipped away at your own drink, eyes glancing to Ellie who stood beside you. You turned to face her, while Dina and Jesse dwindled in their own conversation. You took one more sip of your drink before bringing it down from your lips.

You licked away the remnants of liquor on your lips, “Ellie, can we dance?” You knew Ellie hated dancing, but sometimes she’d give in to you for certain things. You’d hope this would be a time she would, you crossed your fingers just in case.

Ellie turned to you, brows furrowed in concentration as if she were debating the idea. The idea itched in her head. “I would usually say no… But for you, yes.”

If sparkles could appear in your eyes, there would be when you heard those words leave her lips. A wicked grin appeared on your face, making Ellie also dread her answer. 

“Thank you! I’m so happy,” you hummed, moving closer to her to lean up and kiss her cheek. You felt bold and had never done something like that before to her.

Ellie’s breath hitched in her throat for a moment at the contact, she hadn't expected you to do such a thing. Her cheeks were set ablaze by it, her sensitive skin tingling from your kiss.  She only wished the kiss was on her lips. 

She nodded, taking a sip of her drink to help wash down the burning sensation throughout her body. Ellie felt too hot, even in the middle of winter. You somehow had that effect on her. When she seemed done with her drink, you grabbed her wrist, eyes drifting to the dance floor. 

She could read what you were directing her to, Ellie nervously swallowed and nodded.  Allowing you to drag her to the dance floor. It was a slow dance, the music calm, so you wrapped your arms around Ellie’s neck, her hands finding solace on your hips.

The two of you swayed to the music, your eyes locked onto Ellie’s green ones. She had no choice but to look at you, so she did. She never got to be this close to you, and knew full well she had to take advantage of it. Who knows the next chance she’d get to be close to you like this again.

“So…” you began, fingertips tickling Ellie’s hairline as they draped around her neck. “What do you think about the party?” 

Ellie's face scrunched, a small laugh bubbling from within her throat. “You know… I hate these things. It’s more fun because… you’re here.” 

Your eyes stuck to her face, trained on the various different sized freckles, the scar embedded across her right eyebrow, to others it made her look tough — but to you, it just added to her beauty. It was hard not to fall for her, and you didn’t hold back, returning her laughter. 

“Well, it’s more fun that you’re here, Ellie. I’m happy you asked me to come with you,” you muttered. Your eyes never ceasing from hers, confidence flowed through your veins due to the alcohol you’d consumed. 

Ellie was a jumpy person, a nervous girl you knew that. That’s why you wanted to see her twitch from teasing her. So you pressed on, hands rising to play with her hair. You swore over the music you heard her gasp, goosebumps prickling over Ellie’s skin. You moved her head to rest on her shoulder, making the distance between your bodies even tighter.

Ellie’s body felt like it was enveloped in fire, her mind spinning with thousands of possibilities. She decided this was just you still being friendly, wanting to dance with her since Ellie did invite you. Somehow, she always convinced herself of everything other than the truth — even if it’s staring at her in the face.

She didn’t push you away, she blinked a few times, arms tightening around you lightly, and continued swaying to the music. You breathed in her scent, it was a mix of pine and burnt wood almost. You enjoyed the comforting warmth Ellie brought, her whole presence always having your heart beating loudly in your chest. 

Her fingers brushed your sides, she swallowed. “Happy I finally had the guts to ask, I know it’s probably dumb… Because we’re friends.”

Suddenly, you pulled up from where you rested on Ellie. Her face contorted into a look of surprise, you tucked the stray hair framing her face behind her ear. “Oh, Ellie…” you began, leaning your face closer to hers. “It’s not dumb, but I think… It’s not clear enough to you that I like you.”

Ellie’s brows furrowed, she was at a loss for words. Did you mean what she thought you did? Her mind was spiraling, rethinking the words you just blurted out, picking them apart word by word. Before she could ask you anything, your lips were pressed against hers.

You kissed her slowly, your eyes already closed when you leaned into the kiss, Ellie’s eyes remained opened for a second. She blinked rapidly, slowly processing what was happening, her eyes fluttered shut — finally eagerly returning the kiss. 

You two got lost in the kiss almost forgetting you were in a room full of people, too lost in the moment and each other. Ellie’s hands eagerly pressed into your waist, moaning quietly in the kiss. At that, she pulled away, realizing the noise that slipped out and her eagerness. 

You smiled cheekily at her, finally happy you’d taken it upon yourself to make a move after wanting Ellie for so long, hinting at it with your lingering touches and glances. You’d had enough and sealed the deal with a kiss. 

Ellie herself had a small smile on her face, face flushed from the kiss. “I- Definitely wasn’t expecting that…” 

You leaned close again, lowly talking so only she could hear you. “That was the point, Ellie… Now follow me.”

Your hand grabbed hers, pulling her along to wherever you decided. The bathroom was the most private, quiet place you could think of, so you chose there. There was no care for anyone else in the world right now except Ellie, and you wanted her alone. The two of you excused yourselves past people and made a bee-line to the restroom.

Ellie stuck close behind you, her hand growing clammy in yours as the two of you approached the bathroom door. She hadn’t put the pieces together yet in her head, realizing that you wanted her alone. All to yourself. 

The poor girl was still flustered from the previous kiss, never once thinking your friendship would cross that line. It wasn’t something she minded, she was happy — but it all felt surreal. 

The door clicked open with ease, you pulled it aside, allowing the two of you to step into the small, private bathroom. Ellie followed in after you, hand still clinging to yours. Once she was inside, you dropped Ellie’s hand and went to lock the door. The lock clicking into place, echoing in the small space. 

Ellie nibbled on her lip, unsure of what to do or say now that you two were in the bathroom. She didn’t have to say or do anything because you did it for her.

You slyly walked over to her, the distance between your bodies only inches apart. Your eyes fell to her face, her nibbling away at her lip, and how flushed her face looked underneath the lighting of the bathroom. 

“Ellie…” You began, finally breaking the silence. “I wanted to come somewhere more private and this was the first place I thought of… so.” 

For some reason, being alone with Ellie made you more nervous than you thought. Even with your previous booming confidence, it was like it all flushed away once you were enclosed in the bathroom with her. Your feelings for the girl overwhelmed you, causing your heart to swell and throb within your chest as if it were an over inflated balloon about to burst. 

Ellie shifted her body, eyes glued to the floor. She nervously chuckled at that statement, still not meeting your eyes. She mumbled, unsure if you'd even hear it. “So… what was that?” 

The ‘that’ in Ellie’s statement, obviously, alluded to the kiss you had initiated, which left her bewildered and unsure of your true intentions. Her mind was reeling from uncertainty. Was your kiss driven by alcohol fueled impulses, or did it hold a deeper meaning, signaling that you harbored genuine feelings for her? 

Your soft touch against her cheek gently snatched Ellie’s thoughts away. Her focus was suddenly centered on your shimmering eyes, the lines of your forehead creasing in concern, and the way your hand felt caressing her cheek. She found herself momentarily bereft of words, caught off-guard by the intimate gesture.

Your whisper broke the silence, “It was a kiss, and if it wasn’t already obvious… I like you, Ellie.” Your proximity grew even closer, almost chest to chest, and your faces now mere inches apart, as your gazes remained locked together, the room filled with unspoken tension. 

Ellie’s lips parted, you watched as her eyes fell to your lips, then quickly back to your eyes. The air between you thickened, all you could hear in the air was yours and Ellie’s breathing. You grinned, closing the distance again. Ellie tenderly returns the kiss and places her calloused hands on your hips.

You pressed into her body, her back hit the wall, she groaned feeling the coldness of it. This allowed you to slide your tongue into her mouth, swirling your tongue around hers. It was messy and hungry, a tumble of emotion surging into the kiss, the both of you could feel it. 

Kissing Ellie like this felt intoxicating, you wanted more, you sucked her bottom lip, lightly nipping it. Ellie groaned into your mouth, your tongue swallowing the noise. The two of you separated, chests heaving for a breath of air. 

You removed your hand from her face, fingers ghosting around her neck, digits softly brushing against the skin. Ellie shivered, skin flushed from the frantic kisses, and just the situation she found herself in. 

You broke the silence first, beating Ellie to speaking. “Guess that means… that you like me too?” You teased, this made Ellie flush more and shake her head. 

“Of course, I like you. Shut it!” Ellie whined, closing her eyes and leaning her head back into the wall. 

You lifted a finger to her mouth, brushing against her plump lips, slightly blotchy from your nibbling. “You should shut it, Ellie,” you mumbled, not stopping there, leaning your head down to the collar of her neck, lips ghosting over the skin before you pampered a column of kisses down her neck. 

Ellie groaned, her hands faltering to your hair, the sensation of your kisses went straight to her core. You licked and sucked away at her neck, making sure to leave bruises in your wake. Ellie felt you softly whisper against her neck, the sound angelic to her ears. “Ellie… you should let me touch you.”

She opened her eyes abruptly, looking down at you, bewildered at the statement. She remembered where the two of you were, the bathroom. She swallowed hard, outweighing the situation in her head. This was definitely something she couldn’t pass up nor did she want too. You clearly didn’t have a care in the world, dragging her in there in the first place. 

So, she finally gave in. “Please touch me, just… we can’t be loud.”

“We? You mean… yourself, Ellie,” you pressed more kisses down her neck, fingers dancing to the button of her jeans. You undid it, then unzipped her jeans. You patted her thigh, “C’mon need these off.”

Ellie nodded, you backed away to give her space to shrug the material down her legs a little. “Not taking them fully off,” she huffed, not wanting to be pantless in a public restroom, nonetheless. You smiled, understanding and the item being half down her legs was more than enough. Ellie tugged down her boxers too, feeling embarrassed at you eyeing her most intimate part. 

Once gone you could see her wet pussy you almost started drooling, wanting to delve your face into it, but not yet, another time. Your tongue skimmed across your bottom lip, quickly closing the distance between the two once again in a searing kiss. 

Ellie felt light headed in the way you stared at her; predator to prey, before drowning in the pleasure of your lustful kisses. She didn’t want this to stop, her pussy growing slicker with arousal.

Your fingers made their way to her pussy, she whined into the kiss, feeling your colder digits touch her. Ellie abruptly pulled away, her usual bright green eyes darkened as she spoke to you. “Please… finger me, please…” Ellie mewled, raising her hips to rub against the two fingers you had exploring her folds. You rolled your eyes, fingers finding her needy hole and slowly, almost agonizingly inching your fingers in.

Ellie was soaked from the anticipation as your fingers filled her up. She brought your lips back to hers, pushing her tongue into your mouth and massaging yours along hers. This caught you off guard, your fingers inched out of her before you slammed them back into her. Ellie’s moans were swallowed by your mouth, you were grateful for that, knowing she’d be loud. Too loud.

Ellie swore she was on cloud nine, the music muffled against the walls of the bathroom, your sloppy kisses never failing to add to the feeling. She pulled away, looking down to see your fingers pumping in and out of her. 

The squelching and wet noises didn’t go unnoticed by either of you. A smirk made its way onto your face, enjoying how needy she was, even her body was trembling for attention. It made you hungrier, the need to make her feel so good that she’d beg for more consuming every fiber in your body.

Ellie shyly stuffed her face into the corner of your neck, wanting to lessen the sounds she made. Your pace didn’t falter, you instead took her hiding away as a challenge. A challenge to make it hard for her to hold back her sounds. 

She squinted her eyes shut, tiny sounds slipping past her lips. You wished you could see her doe eyed expression, face contorting into pleasure as you fucked her. You used your free hand to move her face, gripping her face with one hand, while the other was busy, delving inside her wet pussy. 

Ellie felt your hand clutching her face, tearing her away from your neck and to no one’s surprise at all, those little breathy moans were louder. Ellie gripped tighter, nails digging in the more aggressively you continued fucking her. Everything felt hazy to Ellie, desire building and building until she felt her vision fading out. Her back slouched against the wall, a burning sensation forming rapidly in her stomach, her hips jerked against your hand, needing that burning bubbling inside her to snap.

“Come on, Ellie. Are you going to cum for me? Huh?”

“Yes, oh.. My god. It feels good, please. Fuck c’mon don’t stop!” Ellie bit into her lip, hard enough to draw blood, her vision becoming blurry. “Shit… my god! I’m cumming… fuck.. Fuck!” The warmth in her stomach dispersed, with her legs shaking from the shattering orgasm. She clung to you, breathing hard.

You watched in awe as she came, “Holy shit, Ellie…” Her wetness leaked down the entirety of your fingers, still inside her, the rest of your hand was drenched in wetness. 

It was everything between Ellie clinging to you, then her orgasm hitting her hard and seeing someone, the person you’ve wanted and craved for so long look so angelic that you needed a taste. You pulled out your fingers, inserting the digits into your mouth, humming at the taste of her. Your tongue needed to savor the taste of her.

Ellie, still slouched against the wall, catching her breath, watched as you did this and her core clench, her mind dirtying with more thoughts of you. Your fingers exited your mouth with a pop, the bathroom succumbing to a silence.

Her pants and underwear were down by her ankles, she tugged them up and popped the button on her jeans. Her breathing and demeanor remained shaky, a smile tugged at her lips. “Yeah, holy shit… Now we’re getting out of here.”

You quirked an eyebrow, about to question Ellie when she laced her hand gently through yours. “Are we really now?” 

She didn’t bother turning to look at you, already tugging the two of you towards the nearby door. Ellie unlocked the door, mumbling in a snarky tone, “Yeah, you don’t seem to be arguing though.” 

Ellie only had one goal now, that was getting to whoever’s house was closer and repaying you for making her feel so good. Even with the tons of people in the way, Ellie got out quickly past people, and had you not far behind her the whole time. You didn’t miss the wink and thumbs up Dina sent you, which in turn made you roll your eyes and smile. 

Clothes were thrown messily around your room, Ellie was on you within milliseconds of entering the space. Now she was on top of you, your leg hiked up with her pussy slotted against yours. You watched Ellie find her pace, her clit brushing yours just right, your hand soothed at her sides. 

Ellie watched your face contorting into pleasure, she sped up rocking her hips more roughly. “Fuck, want you to cum on my pussy,” she blurted out, too overcome with the thought of it. The very want and need of it growing heavier on her mind the more she fucked you. 

“Yeah? Want my cum, Els?”

She bit her lip, nodding her head frantically, still staring down at you. Her forehead was sweaty, dark locks clinging to her forehead, eyes squinted shut as she kept rolling her hips. Each time her clit caught yours, you let out breathy whiny noises; ones only Ellie could pull from you. It made Ellie’s clit throb, squelching from your shared wetness grew louder and louder the more frantically Ellie moved, chasing both your highs. It ignited the tension further, your hands on Ellie’s hips helping move her faster and faster. 

Your nails dug into her side, feeling yourself on the very edge, on the very tip of the iceberg; about to crumble. You whisper Ellie’s name, almost too quietly she doesn’t catch it. “Ellie… Please cum against me, breed me.” 

That made her go feral, your chest bouncing with each roll of her hips, Ellie whining at her swollen clit catching yours. “Yeah? I’m gonna promise… gonna breed you. Breed this pussy,” she groaned. “Oh my god,” Ellie’s movements grew slopper. “ I- Fuck! I’m cumming, I’m-” Her orgasm washed over her quickly, yours following shortly after, your legs spasming from the intensity. 

You moaned out Ellie’s name, her lips finding yours and swallowing the pleads and sounds coming from your plump lips. She lazily dragged her hips, riding out the feeling of your orgasms. Her body fell into yours, chests pressed against one another, bodies sheen with a layer of sweat. 

Ellie ended the kiss, pecking your lips one more time, moving herself more to lay down and rest her head against your breasts. You stroked a hand through her unkempt hair, smiling and welcoming the warmth of her body. “I’m.. happy we did this, Ellie.” 

She opened her eyes, holding a dazed look on her face. “Me too, this is unbelievable,” she left a soft kiss on your boob. Smiling as she pulled away, “And I really… do like you.”

Hearing her confirm it once again, with words, not actions made you want to scream with joy. “I know, El. I like you too now, lemme get up and clean us both up,” you giggled. Ellie pouted begrudgingly, moving off you.

You grabbed a towel, first cleaning Ellie off then yourself, before climbing back into bed. You moved Ellie’s back to rest against your chest, holding her tightly and pulling your bed’s covers up to envelope the two of you in warmth. Ellie let out a sigh, snuggling more into you, her skin tickling yours.

“Thank you,” you heard her mutter. 

“Don’t thank me,” you held her tighter, if possible. Never wanting to let her go, especially now that you both had each other.

Taglist♡: @livvietalks

[signanothername]

What is Color and Cross's relationship like? We've seen a bit of it in the comic where Cross hurts Killer and it's peaked my interest

Think of it as like, the eldest sibling (Color) and youngest sibling (Cross) dynamic in a family

Where it’s like, Color actually has a big soft spot for Cross, and they have their own special bond, Cross tends to cause a lot of problems cause he can be really reckless, and so Color generally tries to keep an eye on him just out of worry that Cross will end up hurting himself in the process

Color is definitely also a bit tired of Cross’ bullshit but in a fond “what am I gonna do with you?” way

Cross actually looks up to Color, he thinks Color’s way of dealing with things as something that’s more of what he wishes to be, more patient, more confident, more focused, more open and honest, it’s something that he admires about Color a lot, so Cross definitely has a bit of an internal “I’d love to be a bit more like him one day”

Generally Color and Cross tend to have their own adventures, where Color would take Cross hiking with him, or even something as simple as taking him to get groceries together, Color is definitely trying to make Cross feel seen and heard, he loves Cross and knows he needs attention and to be treated like he truly matters, that Cross hates to feel ignored, and Color strives to give him what he needs, he makes sure to include Cross in even the little things of making decisions when grocery shopping for example, like he’d ask him what type of cheese he thinks would be better to buy or if he wanted to have his own things to buy, etc

And Cross does feel seen by Color, it’s the opposite of his relationship with Killer, where Cross feels like his existence is completely ignored, when he’s with Color he feels like he truly matters, like he has his own voice that’s actually listened to, not that Epic doesn’t make him feel seen too, but it’s nice to have more people make him feel seen and heard

Cross is a bit anxious that he can be a bit much sometimes, and definitely fears that Color would one day abandon him because of his recklessness or lack of situational awareness at times, it’s something that’s always on the back of his mind, constantly telling him to stop being so careless, so reckless, “great job, you made him angry” and so on, needless to say, Color would never really abandon him, and funny enough, Color himself is afraid of being abandoned, he wouldn’t wish abandonment on his worst enemies

Cross and Color mirror each other in their fear of abandonment, but while Cross fears that he’ll be abandoned by Color, Color fully believes Cross would never abandon him, cause if he knows one thing, is that Cross wouldn’t wanna be alone too

Color does see a bit of himself in Cross, Cross especially reminds him of himself right after he broke out of the void, desperate, anxious, uncertain, repressed, angry, overwhelmed, and for the longest while he never had someone to guide him or help him, so he strives to be what he needed at that moment for Cross

They absolutely love each other, and while they have both ups and downs, they wouldn’t ask for anything more than what they have with each other, they both think that they’re the lucky one to get to be family to the other <333

[illusionremember]

I'll tell you what. I've spent the past several days going through this tag. All 224 pages of it. I was angry. I wanted to block every goddamn person that used it. I don't wanna see their shit whether it was AI or not, and I don't want them seeing mine either.

But I learned some things while I was clicking through this, clicking on names, and blocking.

Overall, the content posted under this tag are predictably bland, unimaginative, and uninteresting. I think we all could have figured this one out without looking.

The users that seem to post these almost all strike me as incredibly young. Not all of them, of course, but many admit in so many words that they are high schoolers, often just messing around, as high schoolers often do.

So so SO many of these are marked in their summaries as the poster just mucking about in AI because they were bored, avoiding homework, avoiding sleep. They thought whatever it churned out was funny, or in some cases horrifyingly bad, and posted it to share it. They know it's bad. It is actually very rare for some of them to be earnestly trying to claim it as writing. There's a lot of "oh god what did I/chatgpt/insert AI write?" and "this is so weird and funny" type of tags.

on the other hand, there are a (surprisingly small) handful of them that are clearly fetish content, with extreme or taboo kink. I wonder if the use of AI helps them to separate themselves from the content they decided they wanted to read. Like a way of saying "well I didn't write this, it's the AI". I wonder if it's about shame. Of those kind of pieces, most of those posters only put up a single piece and disappeared.

A loooot of them are marked as "original fiction." As for those that are listed under fandoms, imo the posters have absolute dogshit tastes - in terms of tropes, ships, and plots they chose to prompt AI for.

Some of these aren't even fics, but use AI-generated images to illustrate, to translate from another language, or say they were "inspired by" an AI chat rather than made with it. I'm not saying that's better, but it does change the way I'm looking at that giant number at the top.

A large amount of these are listed under orphan_account. Meaning that whoever wrote it decided, for whatever reason, to disassociate themselves from it. Maybe they got pushback. Maybe they thought better of it. If this many people orphaned their works, I wanna know how many of them deleted them in full

The number is growing, but I suspect that's because this is the parent tag that the tag wranglers are constantly adding to, rather than people posting new AI content. I suspect this because every time they round up more, new names pop up on pages I already went through.

Tbh, coming to these realizations made me feel better about this whole thing. I'm sure there are other fics out there that aren't tagged for it, but this gives a good idea of the kind of content that comes out of AI. And I very deliberately am using the terms "content" and "poster" instead of work, writing, writer, or artist. Because this isn't creative work. It's content churning. It's a crude parlor trick. And even the people that posted these seem to know it.

Those of you that have played with AI. I'm talking to you now. The kind of stuff you're getting out of AI now? I promise you - it is so much better to make your own, and to look for actual writers for something to read.

You can find and write funny crackfic. People have done it for decades. You can come up with weird nonsense and bizarre ooc chaos all on your own. It's so much more satisfying.

If you are looking for angst or romance or horror or whatever to read, there's literally hundreds of thousands of fanfics written by real people that will tell far better stories. The thing is, when a person is telling a story, there's usually a core goal or message they're trying to give. Writing is about communicating something. It's about sharing the things that make your heart sing. It's about putting the things in your head and heart onto paper or a screen so that other people can see those parts too. AI isn't capable of that.

If you have ideas but you don't want to write it yourself, you just want to read it, instead or prompting an AI, consider posting your prompt to a community of other fan artists and writers, here on tumblr or somewhere else. Back on LJ, there were entire promptfill communities. People would post prompts and ideas they had, and others would respond and write them. It was my favorite part of those fandom communities. I miss them terribly. I miss the fics and art and the overflow of creativity. Most of all I miss the connection with others.

And for those of you that do want to write, to communicate ideas of your own, but think that you aren't good enough to write it yourself — I would rather read your own words than anything AI could churn out. Even if you're terrible. Even if you can't string the words together the way you want yet. Bad writing is how you learn to put words to your ideas, your feelings, the things that scare you, the things that make you laugh or cry. The computer will never, ever be able to translate those things onto a page in any way that's authentic, because it's stealing things from other people and scrambling them together. It doesn't create anything. It steals, and then mixes and matches scraps of other people's work to approximate what you asked for, and it's bad at it. It lacks intent and it lacks soul.

The words that you would choose yourself are lost every time you let AI do the work for you. And that's really sad to me. Don't willfully give up your voice. Its the most precious thing you have in this world.

Write it shitty, write it scared, write it without a clue but don't you be so spineless and have an AI write fanfic for you.

[ch33z3grits]

Crimson Obsessions | A Terry Richmond Vampire Series

pairing: Aaron Pierre as Terry Richmond x Justine Skye as Camille DeWaterson

summary: Terry shamelessly gathers allies and information to pursue Camille behind the scenes. Camille, no matter how hard she tries, can't help but develop a crush on Terry.

warnings: 18+ mdni, dark romance, manipulation, smut (male masturbation and p in v), obsessiveness/possessiveness, mentions of witchcraft, angst if you squint, stalking, breaking and entering, mentions of drugs and alcohol, AAVE, use of n-word

word count: 7,778

a/n: thanks again for all the comments and reposts on the last part! The reposts are fucking hilarious but idk how to respond to them if I even can 😭😭 but I appreciate the interactions fr. Ngl this is long lolll but enjoy :)

glossary

The Veil: the dark magic that enhances supernaturals’ ability to manipulate the human world

Terry’s song: No Heart-21 Savage | Camille’s song: Next Lifetime-Erykah Badu

Pt. Three

Terry

Terry had forgotten how annoying popularity could be. It had only been two weeks since he first onboarded with Watkins & Grant, yet he was already the firm’s shining star. His work ethic was constantly praised, as was his effortless charm when conversing with anyone. Every day, without fail, someone would drop by his office to shower him with compliments. He would laugh, a practiced chuckle that never failed to sound genuine, and put on an act of humble appreciation, making sure to make them feel special in return.

But as the days passed, Terry found himself increasingly irritated by the constant recognition. His colleagues, eager for his attention, bombarded him with social requests. Happy hours, family dinners, sporting events, casual coffee chats… invitations were always extended to Terry. He knew the drill all too well. Terry had mastered the corporate dance long ago, and he understood that maintaining these social ties was essential for his professional image. But despite the strategic benefits, the sheer volume and frequency of all those social engagements were draining his patience.

What bothered him most, though, was the growing realization that these endless interactions weren’t getting him any closer to the one person he actually wanted to see, the one who mattered far more than anyone else in the office.

In the past few weeks, Terry's interactions with Camille had been way too brief and far too professional. When she got in, she would quickly pass him in the hallway, squeaking out a small but warm "good morning" before Aston would lock her away in that fucking office of his. Their exchanges always left Terry feeling hungry for more. When those tiny moments weren’t enough to satisfy his craving for her, he’d find some bullshit excuse to walk down to her side of the office—grabbing a snack from the kitchen, admiring a different angle of the building’s view, or simply claiming he needed to stretch his legs. Each time, he’d sneak a glance into Aston’s office, and there she would be. Head down, furiously typing away or scribbling notes, working far too hard for Terry's liking.

Meanwhile, Aston would be making his rounds around the executive wing, greeting everyone with a hollow smile and kissing everyone’s ass but Terry’s. Terry wasn’t offended at all. The less he had to see the motherfucker’s face, the better. But he was going crazy trying to survive off his little interactions with Camille, watching as her professional life consumed her. Terry had to find a way to get some more time alone with her. Which is why a few days after he started, he was staying after hours to bend Stephanie Hodges, the secretary for Mr. Grant, over his desk.

After observing the social dynamics of the office, Terry discovered that Stephanie was one of the most influential people at the firm. At first, her interactions with Mr. Grant appeared strictly professional, nothing more than typical, formal exchanges. But Terry’s keen perception saw the subtle signs that hinted at something far more… inappropriate beneath the surface. He watched closely, noticing how Grant’s gaze would linger on her just a bit too long whenever she was near. Terry caught how Grant sniffed the air whenever she walked by, as if intoxicated by her presence. And whenever Stephanie wanted something, all she had to do was bat her lashes and throw a flirtatious smile at him. Every time ended with her getting exactly what she wanted and she would walk away with a triumphant smirk.

The professional relationship between Grant and Stephanie was nothing more than a carefully constructed facade. On Grant’s end, he was having an affair. On Stephanie’s end, she was enjoying a sugar baby arrangement. This knowledge solidified Terry’s understanding of her power and potential value to him, which he could leverage to his advantage. All he had to do was pull her into his orbit, which didn’t take much. Stephanie made her intentions very clear. She would come by his office every morning, making unnecessary small talk in a sultry tone. She would bend over to give him a perfect view of her ass or she would shove her cleavage in his face when she needed to show him something. Terry wasn’t particularly interested in fucking her. Stephanie was attractive, but office hook-ups often got messy, and Terry couldn’t afford the drama. But, Terry had no problem obliging her if it got him closer to his end goal. So if he had to fill her up with dick after everyone went home for the day in exchange for a few changes around the office, that didn’t bother him one bit.

“T-Terry, oh fuckkkk. F-Fuckingg...cu....c-cumming again,” Stephanie whimpered, her face pressed against the Mahogany wood of his desk. Terry rolled his eyes as he pumped his full length in and out of her with punishing strokes, feeling her pussy clench around him. She had came for the fourth time and all she could do was moan, shriek, and babble out incoherent sentences. The experience was much more than he intended. He didn't mean fuck her this good for this long. But his nut was taking longer than expected due to Stephanie’s high-pitched moans irritating the fuck out of him. And she kept fucking squirming. Frustrated, he firmly slapped her ass, causing her to cry out as the sound echoed through his office. “Stay still,” he hissed. “Damn!” 

He closed his eyes, trying to think of a way to make this more satisfying for him. An image of Camille bloomed in his mind, her face slack with pleasure, her mouth forming an ‘O’ shape. “Mmmm Terry, please.” The imaginary Camille moaned. “Please, please cum for me.” 

That got Terry across the finish line. His hips stuttered as he thrusted into Stephanie to the hilt and barreled into his orgasm. "Fuckkk," he groaned, pushing Stephanie flatter against the surface as he emptied his load into his condom. He pulled out of Stephanie quickly, the absence of his cock nearly making her slip onto the floor in a dick-drunk daze.

Good, he thought. Just how I need her to be. He discarded the condom in a nearby trash bin before sitting in his desk chair. He pulled her into his lap to soothe her as she caught her breath. She panted as she stared at him, a lazy smile turning up the corners of her mouth.

“Where have you been all my life?” She giggled, running a finger over his chest. He internally cringed, but his exterior played into her ego. “I could ask you the same,” he chuckled. She flipped her fiery red hair and laid her head on his chest, pleased by his comment.

“You know,” he started, choosing his words carefully. “I’ve been watching you since I first started here and I’ve noticed that you’re the only one who gets everything they want. I mean, it's no surprise considering how beautiful and magnetic you are. But, how do you do it?” She laughed, shifting herself on his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck. “Well Mr. Richmond, I’m not afraid to ask for what I want.”

“Is that so? I need to learn your ways. Because there is something that I want. Well, someone rather,” Terry let out a defeated sigh. Stephanie stiffened in response, making him smirk. “Wow, Mr. Richmond, someone else has caught your eye already?” Terry clutched his chest, feigning shock.

“You’re mistaken, Stephanie. I don’t mean it in that way.” He stated, looking into her eyes and petting her hair. He watched as her jealousy transformed into curiosity. “I guess you could say that I’m dealing with a little professional jealousy.”

Stephanie raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? What do you mean?”

“Camille's work ethic...I’m seriously impressed. The way she handles McCoy’s caseload, how she keeps the whole thing from collapsing under the weight of it all, it's something else. I don't have it as bad as he does, but I wouldn’t mind a little of that magic working for me. But…McCoy likes to keep her close. I mean, I get it, she’s his fiancée, after all." Terry tried to keep the bite out of his voice as he mentioned Camille’s engagement status. "But still, it feels a little…unfair, don’t you think? An associate gets to keep a paralegal like that all to themselves, and here I am, a visiting partner, left to do it all alone. I’d ask Grant or Watkins about it, but the whole ‘fiancée’ thing just makes it…tricky.”

He watched as the gears practically turned in Stephanie’s head, hoping he planted the right seeds. She tapped her fingers against his chest as she continued to think. “Well, I could always bring it to Mr. Grant’s attention. You’re right, it doesn’t make any sense for Aston to have more privileges than you.” Bingo.

Terry held back a sinister smile. “Really, you would do that for me? Would that even work?”

Stephanie’s cocky smirk returned. She sat up in his lap, her green eyes staring into his. “Of course! You said it yourself. I can get anything I want around here. Let’s test that theory.” She leaned in for a kiss, which Terry rewarded her with.

Hours later, just past 2:00 AM, Terry stood in the shadows outside of the luxury apartment building where Aston lived. On one of the rare nights when his colleagues hadn’t asked him out for drinks, he had followed Aston home, committing the address to memory. He returned the night after to watch the building closely, noting every detail. The concierge’s shift changed at exactly 2:00 AM. A handful of residents would collect late-night food deliveries until about 2:30, and the custodial staff took smoke breaks sporadically throughout the night. He had studied the rhythm of it all. Terry knew the patterns, knew the cracks in the schedule. He just needed the right window to slip through.

Tonight, he was prepared. Dressed head to toe in black, he ran his fingers over the leather gloves and ski mask tucked in his pocket. He wouldn’t need them just yet. But soon enough, they’d serve their purpose. For now, all he had to do was wait for the door to open. His eyes snapped towards the front entrance as he heard the grand door creak open. A cleaning lady, holding a pack of cigarettes, looked around momentarily. Convinced that no one was there, she grabbed a stone from a nearby bush and tucked it between the door and door frame. Then she walked a few feet in the direction opposite Terry, lighting a cigarette. Terry silently stalked towards the door, watching to make sure she didn’t turn around. He quickly slid through the open door, making sure it was propped open just like the woman had left it.

Once inside, he walked confidently over to the concierge sitting at the front desk. The man, who was busy doing crossword puzzles, stopped momentarily to see who was approaching him at such a late hour on a work night. Terry flashed a casual smile. “Hey, how are you doing tonight,” he spoke, placing his forearms on the marble counter separating them. The older gentleman looked at him with slight suspicion, but still engaged. “I’m fine, how about yourself?”

Terry let out a concerned sigh. “Actually, I'm not doing too well. My friend called me earlier, said he had a little too much to drink tonight and got himself into some trouble! I was just trying to check on him, but he won’t pick up. He only gave me the access code to the building, but I don’t know which room he’s in.”

The concierge paused, eyeing Terry with suspicion.

“I’m sorry, sir,” the man stammered. “But there’s nothing I can do.”

Frustration buzzed beneath Terry’s calm exterior, but he kept his voice steady, leaning in just a fraction closer. "Are you sure? I’d really hate to think something bad happened to him…” His words hung in the air, sharp with unspoken pressure.

The man’s gaze flickered, unease creeping into his eyes as his focus faltered. Terry inwardly groaned, knowing he would have to take matters into his own hands. He leaned in further, his fist tightening subtly, his focus sharpening. Swiftly, he conjured up the dark magic of The Veil, feeling it unfurl around him.

Terry watched with dark satisfaction as the man’s pupils dilated, his posture straightening rapidly. All emotion drained from the man’s face, signaling to Terry that he had control now. “That’s better,” Terry chuckled. “Now, bring me the master key and tell me what unit Aston McCoy is in.” Without a word, the concierge turned around and stumbled towards a room behind him. After a few moments, the concierge, moving like a brainless zombie, brought him a golden key fob and a slip of paper with ‘Aston McCoy, 608’ scribbled across it. Stuffing the items in his pocket, Terry gave the concierge another glance. “Stay right here and don’t talk to anyone.” Then, he pivoted towards the elevators.

Once inside, he slipped on the ski mask and gloves before using the key fob to get access to the sixth floor. He smiled when the doors slid open and stepped out into the hallway. Conveniently, the unit was only a few paces from the elevator. After approaching the door that displayed ‘608,’ he held the fob over the door’s keypad, and stepped inside once the door softly clicked.

Terry knew it was twisted. Breaking into his colleague's apartment to find the best, most personal way to ruin his life was abhorrent by human standards. But he wasn’t human. He hasn’t been human for centuries. So he didn’t give a fuck. Aston McCoy was the one thing standing in the way of him getting his hands on his prize.

Holding her.

Taking care of her.

Fucking her.

Worshipping her.

He vowed to move heaven and earth to have Camille all to himself. So if he had to pursue a little breaking and entering to set his plan into motion, so be it.

Terry's footsteps were silent to the average ear as he sauntered around the luxurious loft. He gazed at the expensive minimalist furniture, carefully curated wall decor, and the artificial plants that were strategically placed in the living area. The entire space lacked any trace of personality. Sterile, boring, and safe. The signs of a young white man who desperately wanted to be taken seriously and belong in the upper echelons of society. Terry smirked and shook his head. Throughout his long, long life, Terry had run into men like Aston at every turn. It was pathetic how they shaped their entire lives around getting more power, more status. Slave owners, military officials, mob bosses…white men who had the world at their feet but were always at the risk of slipping and falling. All it took was one blow from Terry and they were tumbling to the ground. Aston McCoy would be no different.

Although he found the apartment amusing, Terry grew irritated as he stalked through the space. Every drawer he opened, every closet he rifled through, only deepened his frustration. There were no signs of the vices he’d come to expect. No bottles of liquor tucked away in hidden corners, no baggies of coke stashed carelessly in drawers, no anonymous flash drives filled with illicit secrets. Nothing. Terry scoffed, feeling his eyebrows push together as he approached the last doorway in the apartment. McCoy’s bedroom. He entered the room lazily, expecting further disappointment. But his eyes widened as they settled on the central point of the room: the bed. On the left side, McCoy was bundled under a mountain of covers, his hair peeking out at the top being the only indication that it was him. But on the right side… laid Camille, looking like an absolute angel. Her body was completely exposed due to her fiancé's selfish hogging of the covers. McCoy’s actions at any other time would have Terry seeing red. But instead, they accidentally gave Terry the most pleasant and mouth-watering surprise he could have hoped for tonight.

Camille laid flat on her back, the side of her face perfectly highlighted by the moonlight pouring in as she snuggled into the crook of her arm. Her gorgeous dark brown skin seemed to glisten in the moon’s glow, asking, begging to be licked and sucked and marked. She was mostly bare, wearing nothing but a satin hair scarf and a satin nightgown that dipped dangerously low into her cleavage and hiked around her waist. Terry's focus on the task at hand faltered as his dick turned to stone. His tongue darted out of his mouth to moisten his lips hidden under his mask. Desperate to give himself some form of relief, he palmed his growing bulge through his sweatpants as he moved closer to Camille’s side of the bed. With a better view of the slumbering princess, Terry's eyes wandered to Camille’s pussy, tucked away from his sight by a lacy white thong, a present he ached to open. As if in a trance, Terry crouched down to run his gloved thumb over the waistband of Camille’s panties, careful not to awaken her.

You have no idea what you do to me, he thought, hooking a finger into the lacy fabric. His eyes snapped toward her face as he began to slowly tug the garment down. He was halfway down her thighs when she stirred, whimpering lightly. Everything in him froze except his dick. His dick jumped as the sweet sound echoed in his head. Camille’s brows furrowed momentarily, but her face relaxed and her eyes remained closed. Terry waited a beat to make sure she was still asleep. But his cock, heavy with excitement, beckoned him to continue removing her panties. So as swiftly as he could, Terry pulled the small fabric over her knees, down to her ankles, and then carefully slipped them past her feet. In a frenzy, Terry tugged the ski mask below his mouth and pulled the souvenir to his nose, inhaling deeply. Drool slid past his lips as he breathed in her scent. He held back a feral rumble in his chest, feeling his eyes flicker from their usual blue-gray to a deep red. Now isn't the time to lose control, he thought, suppressing the darkest parts of himself. With a shake of his head, he tucked Camille’s panties into his pocket, sending another shockwave through his lower region.

He backed away from Camille’s side of the bed, his eyes never leaving her enchanting face. He was just about to cross the bedroom’s threshold to walk back into the living area. But he heard the slightest vibration from the left side of the room. Terry cocked his head to the side and zeroed his focus on the phone on McCoy's nightstand. What kind of notifications could he be getting at two in the morning? He swiftly moved towards the phone, gently picking it up. He flipped it so the screen faced him and began to read the series of notifications. Banners from DraftKings, FanDuel, Prizepicks and other betting apps displayed several different messages:

Bet $20 and get 3x back on earnings!

Hurry now to get $1000 in casino bonuses!

Bet now, get instant deposit on all earnings!

Terry chuckled lightly, his eyes flickering to McCoy and Camille to briefly check if they heard him. They hadn’t. So you’re a gambling addict huh? He grinned widely as he glanced down at Aston. I can definitely work with that. Terry carefully returned the phone to its original position. Then he crossed the room once more, returning to Camille's side. He hummed slightly as he softly gripped her right leg, adjusting it to give him a perfect view of her now exposed pussy. Camille sighed slightly, shifting onto her side, unknowingly moving closer to Terry. Terry smirked, kneeling so his head was at the same level as hers. “You’ll be all mine soon enough,” he whispered, hoping that his words slipped into her dreams. She sighed in response, still in a deep slumber. With a final scan of her face, Terry pulled his ski mask back over nose, shoved his hands into his pockets, and turned to leave the bedroom. He grinned wildly as he began to conjure up the most sinister and wicked ideas to get Camille into his arms and into his bed.

He exited the apartment, carefully locking the door back into place. As he rode down the elevator, taking off the gloves and ski mask, he slightly chastised himself for not already knowing that they lived together. He guessed it never crossed his mind considering that they drove separately. And the address on her driver’s license didn’t match this building. Maybe she moved in with him recently, he thought.

Once the elevator doors opened, he looked toward the concierge’s desk, seeing that the man remained in the exact same spot. Terry approached the desk, placing the key fob in front of him. He would discard the paper with the apartment's information later. “You’ll be released from this spell in about ten minutes and you won't be able to remember the events of tonight. But before then, I need you to put this back exactly how you found out, and delete the security footage from the past hour once I walk through the front door. Understood?” The empty shell of a man nodded, already reaching for the master key. Terry turned toward the door and walked out, not bothering to look back.

Rather than feasting on one of the blood bags that stocked his fridge or sinking his fangs into one of his casual partners to end his night, Terry sat in his king-sized bed as he gripped his heavy dick, Camille’s thong hanging halfway out of his mouth. The garment muffled the groans in the back of his throat as his right hand jerked up and down his shaft and his left hand held his phone displaying a picture of Camille he found on her sister’s instagram. She stood in a bathroom, wearing nothing but a white robe and silver jewelry. One side of the robe hung off her shoulder, giving a teasing view of a breast he desperately wanted to lick. She looked up at the phone provocatively, her tongue peeking between her lips.

Terry was practically choking his cock as his hand gripped up and down his length, lotion and precum mixing together to give him the perfect amount of slickness. His hips bucked as he imagined her tongue dragging over the length of him from base to tip, flicking over the slit of the mushroom head. And the residual taste of her essence flooded his taste buds, making his head damn-near spin. With a few more thrusts into his fist, he released a guttural moan as warm, thick ropes of cum landed on his torso and hand. He panted softly, chest rapidly rising and falling as he came down from his high.

He pulled her panties from his mouth, using it to clean up his seed, before placing the fabric on the altar sitting across from his bed, which held an intense love spell he had been meticulously maintaining for weeks. Framed photos of her, capturing moments of her beautiful smile and radiant laughter, were abundant. Beside them, candles glowed softly, their wicks anointed with domination and seduction oils, each deep red flame flickering with an almost sentient desire. Protection wards, drawn in ancient symbols connected to The Veil, surrounded the space like a silent, invisible force, ensuring her safety from any harm. The display was an intricate ritual, a carefully crafted tribute to Camille, meant to pull her closer, to weave her into the very fabric of his world. Every detail was deliberate, every element chosen with painstaking care. All of this—his devotion—was for her, and her alone.

He gazed at the picture on his phone once more and shuddered, his semi-erect dick standing at attention once again. But even though his mind beckoned him to masturbate once more, his supernatural hunger gnawed at him. He had been ignoring his desire to feed for the past few days, prioritizing more pressing matters. But now, he was almost at a point where he could lose control. And he couldn’t go into work tomorrow and accidentally feast on a coworker. So, with a final glance towards his magical workings, he pulled on a pair of pajama pants and stalked towards the supply of O-Negative waiting in his fridge.

Camille

Camille woke abruptly from the sound of her alarm, groggier than usual. She already wasn’t looking forward to the day, considering that it started poorly. Aston woke her up around 4 AM, horny and in the mood for a quickie, which she reluctantly gave in to. He had already taken her panties off anyway. But it was rushed and unfulfilling. Aston had rolled after two minutes, falling back to sleep after reaching his peak. But Camille wasn’t so lucky. She tossed and turned for hours, her dissatisfaction keeping her alert. And of course, her vibrator was dead, leaving her with nothing to get her off.

Before her mood could sour even more, she threw off her covers and headed for the bathroom. Dreading the work day ahead, she went through her morning routine. It wasn’t just the workload that was getting to her. Ever since Aston found out he didn’t make junior partner, he’s been…stricter. Meaner. A tad bit bitter. He’d grown increasingly harsh with her work, constantly second-guessing her decisions, and questioning the few moments she took to breathe between the demands. And it wasn’t just the office that had become tense. At home, the smallest things seemed to set him off. Camille chalked it up to him having residual disappointment from Terry having the role he wanted, which she completely understood. She saw how he poured his blood, sweat, and tears into Watkins & Grant, yet it didn’t seem to be paying off. And although she gave him grace, she couldn’t deny that he was hurting her feelings often and she was beginning to burn out.

Giving herself one last look in the mirror, Camille hoped that something good would come out of the day. Something to break up the monotony.

At least, she thought with a small sigh, there was Terry.

She hadn’t fully admitted it to herself, but Camille was developing a crush on the new addition to the firm. And she often fixated on their interactions. Their exchanges, though brief, had become the highlight of her mornings. The way he would give her a quick, almost nonchalant ‘good morning,’ accompanied by that wide smile. It was nothing out of the ordinary. He offered the same greetings to everyone else in the office. Yet, every time their eyes met, her heart would skip a beat.

Once she got to the office, that moment she always looked forward to happened like it always did. Terry passed her as she came into the office, giving her that signature smile and quick ‘good morning.’ Camille savored the moment briefly, inhaling his passing trail of cologne. But she refocused and continued to Aston’s office, mentally preparing herself for the tasks she had to handle by close of business. She pushed open the glass door and made her way to her desk, feeling Aston’s eyes track her, his phone pressed to his ear. When his call ended, he softly called out to her. “Good morning, Millie.”

“Morning,” Camille replied, refusing to look up. Aston sighed, sitting back in his chair.

“Look baby, I know I haven’t been the best company these past few weeks. And, I’m sorry. It’s not fair to you at all.” This made Camille look up, meeting his gaze. “And I know the work has been hard. I… I’m just going through something, baby. And while that’s no excuse, I want to thank you for being so patient with me.”

Her eyes softened. “It’s okay, baby. We all have our off moments,” she said, sympathy laced in her tone. He smiled and blew her a kiss, making her giggle.

“You mind us taking a long lunch today? We can go get your favorite,” he suggested, making her perk up. Camille rarely got to go to O-ku, an elevated Asian fusion spot about twenty minutes from the office. She felt a little bit of her stress melt away, feeling moved by his apology. “Yea,” she smiled brightly. “I’d love that, Aston.”

“Great,” he returned, leaning deeper in her direction. “Let me make a reserva–” An abrasive knock on the door interrupted him. Camille’s eyes dragged towards the source. Mr. Grant, not waiting to be invited in, stepped inside.

“Aston, Camille. I’m glad I caught you two,” he said curtly, shutting the door behind him. Aston sat up straighter at the arrival of their guest. Of all of the executives, Mr. Grant was the harshest, and he was rarely impressed. As a result, he always had Aston on edge when he was around.

“Now I know this may be a sensitive topic, and honestly that’s because Charles and I let it go on for far too long,” Mr. Grant said definitively. Aston and Camille exchanged a glance, neither of them having a clue what he was talking about. Aston cleared his throat. “I’m sorry sir, but what are you referring to?” Aston asked.

Mr. Grant sighed, looking around the room awkwardly. “It’s time for you two to start separating.” Camille swallowed. Aston clenched his jaw. “With all due respect sir, Camille and I, we have a good system in pla-“ Mr. Grant cut him off promptly.

“I’m aware, Aston. And the firm appreciates how well you two work together. But this arrangement…it looks unfair to the rest of the team.”

Camille knew that working together would eventually come back to haunt them. They only got away with it for so long for three reasons: One, Aston was notorious for taking on more cases than anyone else, making extra help a necessity. Two, the McCoy family had contributed generously to Watkins & Grant charity events, which kept the firm a little more lenient on their setup. And three, Mr. Watkins, a hopeless romantic, had been all too eager to make sure their relationship survived in the high-pressure world of law.

For the past two years, their colleagues had turned a blind eye. But it was clear now that the situation had become an issue for others. Mr. Grant continued, “Charles and I talked it over this morning and we agree that it’s time for the distribution of the paralegals to become more equitable.”

Mr. Grant's focus shifted solely to Camille. “Now Camille, we don’t want to thrust you into a completely different workload, so we’ll just put you under one other colleague for now, just so you can get your feet wet.” Camille nodded, honestly feeling a little excited.

“But, we still want to push you and make sure you remain challenged, so we’re not going to put you under another associate. Instead, you’ll be working under Terry,” he stated.

Camille’s heart felt like it might jump out of her chest. She was going to work with Terry? She didn’t know if she’d be able to take it. What if I embarrass myself in front of him? What if I mess up his cases? Aston interjected, displeasure obvious on his face. “Mr. Grant, she's never worked with high level cases before or a different portfolio. Don’t you think this might be too big of a leap.”

Mr. Grant flicked his hand dismissively. “She’s been stellar so far, I can’t see her falling too far away from that. And don’t worry, we’re going to add another paralegal to your rotation,” Mr. Grant was obviously not going to be swayed. He turned back towards Camille. “Camille, quickly gather your things. We’re going to hop on over to Terry’s office and see if we can finalize a new schedule for you.”

Aston looked at her, visibly upset. But what could she do? Say no to their boss? She put her laptop and notepad in her work tote, then stood to follow Mr. Grant out the door. She walked quickly to keep up with him as they moved through the office. Once they got to Terry’s door, Mr Grant's demeanor did a 180. His no-nonsense pout turned into a small smile as he knocked on the door.

“Come on in,” that velvety voice made Camille’s thighs clench. Mr. Grant stepped inside with a bright smile, Camille following closely behind. “Terry!” he exclaimed joyfully. “Working hard or hardly working?”

Both men shared a laugh as Terry rose from his desk. They continued to joke amongst themselves as Camille swayed nervously, looking everywhere but at Terry. Their laughter died down and she could feel both of their eyes on her.

“How you doing, Camille?” Terry chirped, forcing her to meet his gaze. His head was cocked to the side, a playful gleam in his eyes. “I’m doing fine Terry. How are you?” She responded, unable to help her smile.

“I can’t complain, I can’t complain,” he said, staring at her intently and biting his lip absentmindedly.

Goodness, she thought. This man is going to be the death of me.

“It’s good to know you two are acquainted,” Mr Grant starts. “Terry, I wanted to drop by with a proposition. We know that you’re doing just fine on your own. But Charles and I wanted to give Camille an opportunity to work on some higher level cases and experience some topics outside of McCoy’s portfolio. Do you mind taking her under your wing?”

Terry’s eyebrows raised, his smile deepening. “Not at all. I’d be honored.” Camille quietly let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Mr. Grant chuckled at his response.

“Well great! I was thinking about her rotating between you and McCoy. Is three days with you and two days with him alright?” Terry nodded. “Absolutely, as long as Camille doesn’t mind.” They turned to her expectantly. Her cheeks burned as she spoke up. “That sounds great!” She said. Aston is not going to like this...at all, she thought.

“Great,” Mr Grant finalized. “I’ll leave you two to work out the details,” he said, backing towards the door. “By the way Terry, are we still on for golf on Sunday?”

Terry chuckled, leaning against his desk. “Yes sir, I wouldn’t miss it.” Mr. Grant smiled again, chuckling as he walked out of the room. As the door shut, Camille watched as Terry’s eyes focused on her, as if he was studying her.

“Damn, I don’t think I’ve seen you for more than five minutes since my first day,” Terry said, crossing his arms with a playful smirk. Camille felt a flutter in her chest but masked it with a grin, shrugging her shoulders. “What can I say? I’m always pretty busy.”

“Oh, I know.” Terry pushed himself off the desk, his eyes never leaving hers as he stalked toward her. Camille froze, the warmth of his proximity hitting her like a wave. Focus, Camille. Focus. His scent lingered in the air, making it hard to think. “Every time I pass McCoy’s office, you’re always buried in work.”

Camille let out a soft sigh, averting her gaze. She envied how her coworkers could wander the office freely while she seemed chained to her desk. “Yeah, it does get a little overwhelming sometimes.” She glanced back to find Terry watching her intently, an unreadable expression in his eyes. Sympathy flickered there, but something else too.

“Well, you won’t have to worry about that with me.” His voice softened, the smile that spread across his lips sending a shiver down her spine. “I promise to keep your workload interesting, but light. That’s why your first task will be spending a day out of the office… on the firm’s dime.”

Camille’s breath hitched, her pulse skipping a beat. He can’t possibly be serious. But when he reached into his wallet and pulled out the Amex card that Watkins & Grant only gave to its partners, she knew he was.

“Terry, that’s… that’s so sweet,” she murmured, her voice betraying her. She shifted on her feet, feeling conflicted. “But I can’t accept that.”

“Really?” His voice dipped, teasing, but his eyes never left hers—holding her in place. “Should I tell Grant you’re already giving me problems?” The playful edge in his tone made her stomach flutter, and despite the tension in her chest, she bit her lip, trying to maintain control.

“I just… I would feel guilty. I’m supposed to be helping you, not taking time off,” she said, her words softer than she intended.

Terry tsk’d, stepping closer, holding out the card toward her like a quiet challenge. “But you are helping me,” he said with a wink. “You’d be clearing your mind, so you’re ready for my cases.” Camille swallowed hard, knowing he had her cornered. No matter how she tried to protest, he’d always find a way to turn it back on her. With a reluctant sigh, she reached out and took the card.

“Okay,” she murmured. “But what am I supposed to do all day?” Terry shrugged casually. “Whatever you like. But if you need to feel productive, you can always swing by the Law Library and do some light research on intellectual property or impact investing cases.” His gaze lingered on hers just a moment too long.

Camille chewed her lip momentarily. “Alright, that sounds good.” Terry leaned back, a triumphant expression crossing his already smiling face. “Great. Before you go, you want to set anything down in your office?”

Her office. Not just a small corner like in Aston’s room, but a full, independent space all for her. Camille’s lips curved into a grin as she allowed herself to feel the thrill of this new chapter. Terry led her across his large office towards a door on the far side of the room. His hand reached out to press it open, holding it wide for her to step inside.

A soft gasp escaped her lips as she entered. The room was everything she hadn’t realized she was hoping for. Bright and spacious, equipped with a sleek wooden desk that already had a desktop on it. Behind the desk, a plush-looking office chair awaited her, a welcome contrast to the aesthetically pleasing yet stiff chairs in Aston’s office. Around the room, a few plants and decor added life and personality, filling the space with a sense of freshness—giving the room an almost personal touch.

“Do you like it, Camille,” Terry asked, her name rolling off his tongue almost making her swoon. She gazed up at him with a grateful smile. “Oh, I love it, Terry,” she gushed, stepping into the office further. He let out a deep chuckle, leaning against the doorframe. “I’m glad that you do. I’ll let you get settled. I’m gonna join a call soon, so you can just step out when you’re ready to go.”

“Okay,” Camille said, still admiring the room. With a final sigh, she placed her work bag in the office chair and grabbed her wristlet from the inside. She carefully placed the company card inside and grabbed her keys. As she left her new sanctuary, Terry silently waved her over to him, his phone pressed to his ear. He handed her a piece of paper with a number scribbled across it. “Call or text me if you need anything,” he whispered, before returning to his call. She grabbed the paper with a smile, noticing that her grumpiness from earlier had completely disappeared.

Terry

Terry had to give Stephanie credit. She worked fast. He didn’t expect Camille to be moved to work under him the very next day. But he definitely wasn’t complaining. When Grant brought her into his office, Terry’s heart skipped a beat, a momentary jolt of surprise. She entered the room like a breath of fresh air, her presence enough to make everything feel lighter. But Terry quickly masked his reaction, his cool demeanor slipping back into place.

As much as he wanted to keep her in his presence for her first day with him, he could tell she was feeling drained. Her shoulders curled forward. Her blinks were longer, more fatigued. And her smiles weren’t reaching her eyes like they usually did. Terry felt a need to take away that burden, if only for a day. He wanted to give her a chance to breathe, to relax without the pressure of deadlines. No work. No stress. And definitely nothing related to Aston. Just a day to herself. He would make sure of it.

Her reaction to her first work “assignment” kept replaying in his mind. She was so reluctant at first, probably thinking that a day out of the office with his business card blurred the lines of professionalism. But with some pressure, she gave in, letting excitement overtake her. It was precious.

It had only been three hours since she left, so when a knock on his door pulled him from his thoughts, he arched an eyebrow. Is that her? Back already? He called out, “Door’s open,” getting ready to tease her for returning so early.

But the guest at his door was the person he least expected to see: Aston McCoy. He entered the office with a tight-lipped smile, closing the door behind him. Terry returned a similar expression.

“Terry, good to see you!” Aston appeared genuine, but Terry knew better. “Aston, long time no see. What can I do for you?”

Aston’s eyes darted around the room, clearly searching for someone. Terry watched him with quiet amusement, knowing exactly who Aston was after.

“Is Camille around?” Aston asked, his voice dripping with false casualness. Terry grinned, picking up the small ball on his desk and tossing it from hand to hand.

“Nope,” he said nonchalantly, “She’s been out for a while on her first assignment. Probably won’t be back for a few hours.” Aston’s expression flickered for just a moment, confusion clouding his features.

“Her first assignment… outside the office?” he asked, clearly caught off guard.

Terry’s response was a lazy nod, his tone condescending as he addressed Aston like a child. “Mmhm, I thought it would be good for her. Camille looked so tired today. I'm sure you, of all people, noticed.” He watched with satisfaction as Aston’s eyes narrowed just slightly.

“Yeah,” Aston muttered, “I guess she was. She’s been working really hard lately.” Because you’re incompetent as fuck, Terry thought bitterly, but kept his face pleasant.

“Exactly,” Terry said, his grin widening. “So I figured she deserved a little break. A real one, not one of those quick lunch-hour escapes.” The air between them thickened, the underlying animosity barely hidden.

Aston's forced smile returned. “Well,” he said. “Did she mention anything to you about lunch? We were supposed to go together.”

Terry's chest tightened, a twinge of jealousy going through him. He leaned back in his chair, still tossing the ball casually. “Nah. You should probably call her.”

Aston hummed, a low, almost frustrated sound as he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah, I’ll do that,” he muttered, shifting his gaze to the office, looking around with wonder. “You know, this is a really amazing office,” he sighed.

Terry leaned forward slightly, taking the opportunity to be petty. “It really is! Maybe one day, you’ll have one like it.”

Aston visibly stiffened, his smile cracking, just for an instant. Terry resisted the urge to laugh.

Aston opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Terry’s door opening. Stephanie waltzed in like she owned the place, her eyes settling on Terry. “Aston,” she greeted dismissively, not even bothering to look in his direction. “Terryyyyy, are we still going to lunch?”

Terry nodded, feeling annoyed by her flirty tone. “Yes ma’am.”

He gave Aston a final look. “Anything else I can help you with?” he asked sarcastically. Aston gave him another forced smile. “No, that’s all.” Terry grinned, “You have a great day then,” dismissing him.

Terry watched as he turned on his heel to walk past Stephanie and finally leave his office. Bitch ass nigga.

Camille

Camille let out a contented sigh as she drove home from work and reflected on her day, feeling better than she had for a long time. After leaving the office, she started at the law library, eager to dive into research and take her time with it. She moved leisurely through the shelves of law books and case archives, feeling the rare luxury of not being rushed. The peace of it all was almost meditative, and she reveled in the quiet rhythm of flipping through pages and making notes.

But after two hours, she'd exhausted all the references she could find. Knowing Terry wouldn't be pleased with an early return, Camille decided to take a break at a nearby park. She settled onto a bench, letting the crisp air declutter her mind.

When she grew hungry, she texted Aston, suggesting they meet at O-ku. After forty minutes of silence, she figured he'd probably gotten caught up with something. No matter, she would enjoy her own company. She treated herself to a happy hour special, savoring each bite and sip as she gazed out the window. It was then that her eyes caught a glimpse of a charming flower shop across the street. The idea struck her suddenly, some fresh flowers for her office would be a nice touch. But would it be appropriate to buy herself flowers using her boss’ card? Technically, she thought, they wouldn’t be from Terry, they would be from the firm.

With a gorgeous arrangement in hand, she had made her way back into the office, feeling lighter as she set the flowers on her desk. Terry noticed her good mood when she returned his card.

“That's the Camille I like to see,” he chuckled, warming her heart.

As she walked into her apartment that evening, she felt as though the day had ended perfectly. Until she was met by Aston’s scowl when she entered the kitchen.

“Hey…,” she started cautiously. “Is everything alright?”

His lips tightened. “Something about that Terry asshole doesn’t sit right with me.” Camille’s jaw dropped. What could’ve happened at work today that would prompt him to say that?

“Woah, Aston. Let’s just take a deep breath, okay? What happened today?” she said, sliding into the barstool next to him. He glanced at her before glaring off into the distance. “He separated us on purpose.” His tone was definitive. Sharp like a razor. But despite his seriousness, Camille couldn’t help but let out a breathless laugh. His eyes snapped to hers, narrowing. Her smile faltered, and she instantly regretted it. She hadn’t meant to make light of it.

“Baby, that’s a little absurd, don’t you think? What would Terry even do that for?” she asked, confused on how he came to that conclusion. She rubbed soothing circles into his back. He placed his chin in his hand, looking deep in thought.

“I don’t know why, but I-I know he’s behind it,” he muttered, as if he was speaking more to himself than to her. “At first, I thought it was because he had a crush on you. But I went by his office and saw Stephanie drooling over him and how he entertained her. The way they were acting, they’re obviously sleeping together.”

Camille’s stomach dropped. Terry and Stephanie were seeing each other? How long had that been going on? A cold wave of shock and an unexpected rush of jealousy filled her chest. But these feelings were quickly followed by guilt. How can I feel this way? I'm literally talking to my future husband. I shouldn’t be jealous of a single man dating whoever he pleases, no matter how big of a crush I have on him.

To distract herself from her inner turmoil, Camille ended the evening trying, with no luck, to get Aston to abandon his theory about Terry. He couldn't possibly have been behind their new workflow, right?

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

@nayaesworld @slvt4her @writingsbytee @notapradagurl7 @23jammy @kaylaahisthebestest- @theogbadbitch @wabi-sabi1090 @hotgyalaroad @nubiagurllll @lovedlover @dimepiece09 @lavaniiii @simplyzeeka @susanhill @next-bex-bet @sparklytemi @sonotlauryn @ranikyani @loveschrisbrown20 @daddyslittlevillain @blackchickinthedesert @sparklytemi @sonotlauryn @hello-therree

lmk if i missed you!

[anghraine]

#op this is amazing#if you follow me you better vote in this i wanna see what people choose#don't miss out on the stuff under “keep reading”#THE THOROUGHNESS#i can't even#this is like a thesis in spirk#and it's not even everything#special mention to them also staring at each other for a completely unnecessary amount of time in the alternative factor#+ “it give me emotional security”/spock literally smiling and blushing#“when I feel friendship for you i am ashamed”/circling each other like animals while jim begs him to help him save the ship#“i need him”#“i have a responsibility to this ship. to the man on the bridge. i am what i am leila”#GAY#THEY MAKE ME INSANE#also giggling @ the last option just being “amok time”#the entire episode#accurate (via @spirk-trek)

Thank you very much!! I totally used your blog to find the screenshots to link to for the turbolift porn scene, so I'm doubly flattered :D

Also I felt deeply oppressed by being limited to 12 options and spent a good week deciding on which I absolutely had to include. So I had a separate draft explaining the "holy shit, holy shit" of several more I didn't include >_>

Copy-pasting the honorable mentions just for shits and giggles:

— "The Naked Time" (S1) - other people's inhibitions dropping for space infection reasons makes them silly. Spock without inhibitions is just absolutely miserable and tormented for various reasons, but his devastated shame just keeps deepening until we get:

Jim, when I feel friendship for you, I'm ashamed. [...] Understand, Jim. I've spent a whole lifetime learning to hide my feelings.

Spock always has "repressed gay angst given humanoid form" vibes, but damn, it's barely metaphorical here, and specifically tied to his feelings for Kirk? Wow.

— "The Corbomite Maneuver" (S1): the last to be removed because it was so difficult. I only dropped it because while it's "lmao you remember you're coworkers on the bridge surrounded by other coworkers, right?" it's not quite as unhinged as "if 430 people have to die to try saving Jim, them's the breaks" etc.

SPOCK: Has it occurred to you that there's a certain inefficiency in constantly questioning me on things you've already made up your mind about? KIRK: It gives me emotional security :)

— "The Galileo Seven" (S1) - a broadly meh episode in which the usual background hum of bigotry Spock endures just becomes the episode. Kirk and Spock are separated for most of the episode (Leonard Nimoy apparently disliked the experience specifically because he had to carry the main plot without William Shatner around), but at the very end, they're all reunited on the bridge, and Kirk is charmed and amused by Spock's continuing refusal to admit anything he did was illogical. Kirk gets out of the captain's chair, walks over to Spock, leans on a nearby console, and as the conversation goes on, he puts his arm around the back of Spock's chair and leans in further. Obviously delighted, he says:

Mr. Spock, you're a stubborn man.

Spock replies:

Yes, sir.

— "This Side of Paradise" (S1) - Spock gets deliberately exposed to happy sex pollen by a woman who had a crush on him back in the day. After frolicking while high on the sex pollen, he finds time for this:

SPOCK: You don't understand, Jim, but you'll come around sooner or later. Join us. Please.

And then, once his head is clear:

LEILA: On Earth, you couldn't give anything of yourself. You couldn't even put your arms around me. We couldn't have anything together there. We couldn't have anything together anyplace else. We're happy here. I can't lose you now, Mr. Spock. I can't. SPOCK: I have a responsibility to this ship, to that man on the bridge. I am what I am, Leila, and if there are self-made purgatories, then we all have to live in them.

Sometimes he'll just say something like this and afterwards, I'd have to literally go lie down and contemplate my own repressed gay angst I thought I was over because it's so ... damn.

— "The City on the Edge of Forever" (S1) - mostly for the wild interaction between Kirk's best female love interest and Spock:

SPOCK: Interesting. Where would you estimate we belong, Miss Keeler? EDITH: You? At his side, as if you've always been there and always will. [To Kirk] And you? You belong in another place.

Thanks, Edith. Also, the episode marks Kirk's relationship with Edith as different and special via Spock's transparent jealousy, which sure was a choice!

— "Spock's Brain" (S3) - of all things! But while it sucks in many ways, it gives us:

KIRK: Spock, is that you? SPOCK: Captain? Captain Kirk? KIRK: Yes, Spock. Yes. SPOCK: Captain, there is a definite pleasurable experience connected with the hearing of your voice.

— "Is There In Truth No Beauty?" (S3) - when Miranda Jones initially fails to save Spock and Kirk loses his shit (tactically, but he admits afterwards that he thinks he was being truthful):

The other half [of Spock] is human. Far more human than you, apparently … If you don’t reach him soon, he’ll die. But that’s what you want, isn’t it? … You want him to die. What did you do to him on the bridge? Did you make him forget to put the visor over his eyes? … You know your rival, don’t you? You couldn’t keep him from making a mind-link with Kollos, something you couldn’t do yourself! With my words, I’ll make you hear such ugliness as Spock saw when he looked at Kollos with his naked eyes! The ugliness is within you! … Spock saw Kollos, and for that he must die … The smell of hatred, the stench of jealousy permeates you. Why don’t you strangle him while he lies there?

— "Wink of an Eye" (S3) - one of the most chilling cases of a woman pursuing Kirk without even slightly caring about the wildly coercive circumstances (and in this case, creating them). Also, uh:

DEELA: He's trying to communicate with the Vulcan. His species is capable of much affection. RAEL: I have noted that. DEELA: I wonder if they will demonstrate it to us. :)

o_O

So one of the revelations from watching the entirety of TOS is that Kirk and Spock's relationship is not only every bit as homoerotic as rumored and then some—though it is—but that they are also incredibly fucking unhinged about it. So for this week's poll, I wanted to honor this discovery!

(The character limitations don't allow for much detail, and in context these are even more incredible, so I'll add the links/clips/summations beneath the cut!)

1— "The Empath" (Season 3)

Context: the girl of the week, Gem, is a member of a species of mute empaths able to absorb others' injuries through sympathy and generally drawn to positive emotion. Meanwhile, Kirk is tortured by other parties in the episode to test her willingness to take on others' suffering, and he falls into an exhausted unconscious heap on a bench.

Gem starts to head away towards McCoy, but is suddenly arrested by something she senses and turns to look at Spock, who is moving over to sit next to Kirk and watch him sleep. When Spock realizes he's being observed, he turns away and pretends to study data in his tricorder. Gem isn't fooled, however, and walks back over to him, touching Spock's shoulder and staring at him with wonder in her face over this simple feeling whatever his emotion is while delicate music plays in the background. See for yourself:

2— "Shore Leave" (Season 1)

Context: Kirk is fatigued and strained and in physical pain after ... uh, everything (this episode was aired immediately after "The Conscience of the King" and "Balance of Terror," so it's not hard to buy). He tries to stretch out his back and Spock, standing behind Kirk with his hands on the back of the captain's chair, pulls his hands back and asks him if something is wrong. Kirk explains it's just the kink in his back. A pretty female yeoman starts massaging his back (uh) and Kirk welcomes it under the mistaken belief that it's Spock doing it:

"That's it. A little higher, please. Push. Push hard. Dig it in there, Mr.—"

Spock lifts a brow and pointedly steps forward so Kirk can see it's not him, and Kirk immediately orders the yeoman to stop with a meaningful look at Spock.

(Bonus episode points: Spock's smug satisfaction at tricking Kirk into taking shore leave where McCoy failed, and them grasping at each other when they're in danger.)

3— "A Taste of Armageddon" (Season 1)

Context: After Kirk successfully uses a risky gambit to trick two neighboring peoples into making peace rather than continuing to murder millions of people via computers, he explains his thinking:

It was a calculated risk. Still, the Eminians keep a very orderly society, and actual war is a very messy business. A very, very messy business. I had a feeling that they would do anything to avoid it, even talk peace.

When Spock is dubious about acting based on "a feeling," Kirk adds:

Sometimes, Mr. Spock, a feeling is all we humans have to go on.

Spock replies:

Captain, you almost make me believe in luck.

And then Kirk dials it up to:

Why, Mr. Spock, you almost make me believe in miracles.

Then the camera just focuses on Spock visibly trying to process this and the episode ends.

4— "Requiem for Methuselah" (Season 3)

Context: this is one of relatively few episodes in which Kirk actually gets to pursue a woman because he likes her rather than desperate circumstances; as usual with people he cares about, she dies. He's so emotionally drained at this point in the show that, upon returning to the ship, he describes his immortal rival for her love and himself as "A very old and lonely man, and a young and lonely man," mutters that he wishes he could just forget it all, and falls asleep at a table.

Meanwhile, Spock (who has been visibly intense and uncomfortable throughout the whole episode) stays nearby as McCoy enters. Spock gestures at him to stay quiet and McCoy briefly exposits a plot point to Spock, then segues into an unexpectedly vicious, half-smiling monologue about what Kirk's gone through in the episode and how Spock could never understand it:

Considering his opponent's longevity, truly an eternal triangle. You wouldn't understand that, would you, Spock? You see, I feel sorrier for you than I do for him, because you'll never know the things that love can drive a man to. The ecstasies, the miseries, the broken rules, the desperate chances, the glorious failures, the glorious victories. All of these things you'll never know simply because the word love isn't written into your book. Goodnight, Spock.

Spock just endures and politely replies "Goodnight, doctor," but after McCoy leaves, he allows himself to respond. Without so much as a scene break, Spock slowly walks over to the unconscious Kirk, touches his face, and mind-melds with him while he sleeps. And then he wipes Kirk's memory (!!!) of the tragic romance with his rival this girl, murmuring:

Forget.

5— "And the Children Shall Lead" (Season 3)

Context: a simple instance from a weak episode, but also ... damn, it's a lot. A bunch of children under the malign influence of an evil imperialist alien have managed to take over the Enterprise. This isn't the first time something roughly similar has happened, but at this point, Kirk has a full on panic attack as he and Spock leave the bridge and take the turbolift. Kirk clings to Spock as he melts down and Spock unsuccessfully tries to calm him with "Captain," but it only works when he murmurs, "Jim."

Kirk freezes and then immediately calms back down to his usual rational self. Spock is still concerned and Kirk assures him he'll be fine now (and is).

6— "Miri" (Season 1)

McCoy, Janice Rand, Kirk, and Spock are all gathered around trying to figure out the disease of the week, which has infected all of them (though Spock is asymptomatic). Kirk and Spock lock eyes and Spock points out that they can't go back to the ship, including him since he'd be a carrier, and then he adds:

Whatever happens, I can't go back to the ship ... and I do want to go back to the ship, captain.

Kirk smiles slowly and they just stare at each other as if Janice and McCoy had dropped off the face of the planet.

7— "The Tholian Web" (Season 3)

Context: Kirk is trapped in a different phase of space while a local anomaly is gradually driving the crew of the Enterprise to insane rage. At the same time, the hostile Tholians are threatening the Enterprise with the obvious intent of killing them all within short order, and Kirk's disappearance places Spock in command throughout this triple crisis. Spock refuses to order an escape, instead insisting on the Enterprise remaining in place to keep trying to rescue Kirk, homicidal insanity of the crew be damned, even as the Tholians began attacking.

McCoy urges Spock to prioritize the welfare of the Enterprise and its crew above Kirk, telling him they can't afford to stick around and keep trying. Spock refuses and things predictably get worse.

McCoy confronts him about his priorities:

You should've known what could've happened and done everything in your power to safeguard your crew. That is the mark of a starship captain, like Jim.

Plot events lead everyone, including Spock, to believe that Kirk is dead, and as acting commander, Spock also has to lead the memorial service:

as a result of the battle, we must accept the fact that Captain Kirk is no longer alive. [...] I shall not attempt to voice the quality of respect and admiration which Captain Kirk commanded. Each of you must evaluate the loss in the privacy of your own thoughts.

McCoy continues to lash out at him directly afterwards:

He was a hero in every sense of the word, yet his life was sacrificed for nothing. The one thing that would have given his death meaning is the safety of the Enterprise. Now you've made that impossible, Mr. Spock. [...] I really came here to find out why you stayed and fought. [...] You could have assured yourself of a captaincy by leaving the area. But you chose to stay. Why?

Spock coldly replies:

I need not explain my rationale to you or any other member of this crew.

They snap at each other until they find the recording left for both of them by Kirk in the case of his death. It (hilariously) begins:

Bones, Spock, since you are playing this tape, we will assume that I am dead, that the tactical situation is critical, and both of you are locked in mortal combat.

The message is honestly both wise and heartwarming about how they should respect each other and both have important qualities to offer in a crisis. McCoy immediately feels ashamed of how he's been behaving at such a moment, and tells Spock:

Spock, I, er, I'm sorry. It does hurt, doesn't it?

Spock bleakly replies:

What would you have me say, doctor?

8— "Turnabout Intruder" (Season 3)

Context: in the very peculiar series finale, Kirk's autocratic and vengeful ex-girlfriend uses some kind of machine to take control of his body, leaving him trapped in her body. Spock notices almost immediately that "Kirk" is acting out of character and that "Janice" clearly knows something, so he goes to talk to "her" and Kirk tells him everything. Spock thinks it's possible but there's no certain proof, and Kirk urges him to mind-meld with him:

You are closer to the captain than anyone in the universe. You know his thoughts. What does your telepathic mind tell you now?

Spock melds with him and is promptly convinced.

Bonus: Spock tries to help Kirk escape shortly thereafter and holds his wrist/hand for a good twenty seconds.

9— "The Paradise Syndrome" (Season 3)

Context: Kirk becomes a carefree amnesiac stranded on a planet of transplanted Indigenous people (it's as bad as it sounds), but there's a much more well-done subplot around Spock commanding the Enterprise in the meanwhile. He stubbornly risks the ship (again) to try and rescue Kirk, but the attempt disastrously fails, leaving the ship with only impulse power. McCoy says in some frustration:

Well, Spock, you took your calculated risk in your calculated Vulcan way, and you lost. You lost for us, you lost for that planet, and you lost for Jim.

Despite his exasperation, McCoy still tries to get Spock to rest. Spock simply ignores him and orders the ship to head towards the planet Kirk is stranded on, still stubbornly set on rescuing him, even though they have no warp capabilities and have to travel entirely by impulse power. When McCoy protests that it'll take months, Spock replies:

Exactly 59.223 days, doctor.

And there's no clever solution around it, either. They do take nearly two months getting to the planet and Spock spends 58 days of the journey fixated on figuring out the puzzle that will allow them to save Kirk. McCoy tries to get him to eat or sleep, since he's done little of either for over 50 days, but Spock refuses to do anything except prepare for rescuing Kirk:

I'm also aware when we arrive at the planet, we'll have barely four hours to effect rescue. I believe those symbols are the key. [...] I am not hungry, doctor. [...] My physical condition is not important, doctor. That obelisk is.

McCoy eventually threatens to call security to force him away from studying the puzzle and make him lie down, so Spock finally goes to bed. As soon as McCoy is gone and out of earshot, Spock just gets back up and returns to contemplating the puzzle until he has a breakthrough.

Then upon beaming down and finding an injured, still-amnesiac Kirk, Spock mind-melds with him to try and repair his memory.

I am Spock. You are James Kirk. Our minds are moving closer. Closer, closer, closer, James Kirk. Closer. [...] Our minds are one. [...] Spock!

Spock breaks the link and falls back, gasping. When McCoy asks what's wrong, Spock just says:

His mind. He is an extremely dynamic individual.

10— "The Enemy Within" (Season 1)

Context: Kirk has been split into two people, representing each half of his personality: one half is noble, intellectual, and restrained, but cautious and indecisive, while the other is strong and bold, but vicious, selfish, and violent. At this point in the episode, Spock et al don't know about the split, so good!Kirk is oblivious and evil!Kirk's bizarre behavior is being attributed to normal Kirk. McCoy sends Spock to the captain's quarters to find out what's wrong with him.

Spock dutifully goes to Kirk's quarters, where he finds good!Kirk relaxing without a shirt on and promptly realizes he's gay loses the ability to put normal sentences together. It's difficult to overstate or even describe the homoeroticism of this scene, so judge for yourself:

Bonus: after Spock realizes he's dealing with only half of Kirk and has taken up helping him present a good front, he has to keep correcting good!Kirk's weaknesses and tells him that acting like actual Kirk means "You can't afford the luxury of being anything less than perfect."

11— "Errand of Mercy" (Season 1)

Context: Kirk and Spock are trying to pass themselves off as members of a species of ostensibly docile, peaceful people being (ostensibly) colonized by the Klingon Empire. Kirk in particular struggles to keep his head down, and when a Klingon shoves and threatens Spock, Kirk loses his shit and nearly clobbers the Klingon. Spock manages to calm him down and as they walk away, Kirk mutters:

You didn't really think I was going to beat his head in, did you?

Spock replies:

I thought you might.

Kirk says:

You're right.

12— "Amok Time" (Season 2)

We all know about this one, let's be real. It's difficult to even choose a moment—Spock confiding in Kirk about Vulcan mating practices (Kirk: O_O) and his loathing of the prospect, with Kirk protecting his confidentiality ("I haven't heard a word you've said"), Kirk defending his own choice to implode his career and defy Starfleet (without breaking Spock's confidence) to rush Spock to Vulcan ("I owe him my life a dozen times over. Isn't that worth a career? He's my friend"), Spock telling Kirk he'll undoubtedly find pon farr "distasteful" and Kirk responding "Will I?", Spock begging T'Pau not to let T'Pring choose Kirk as her champion ("I will do what I must [in combat], T'Pau, but not with him! ... In the name of my fathers, forbid. Forbid! T'Pau. I plead with thee! I beg!"), Spock's bleak response to T'Pau's "live long and prosper" after his victory ("I shall do neither. I have killed my captain and my friend"), Spock explaining that his pon farr vanished the moment he thought he'd killed Kirk ("When I thought I had killed the captain, I found I had lost all interest in T'Pring"), McCoy trying to get Spock to admit that his relief at Kirk's survival is illogical and Spock blatantly lying that he is just concerned with the loss of an effective captain, to which Kirk simply responds "Yes, Mr. Spock. I understand" while McCoy splutters ...

But honestly, my favorite is the brief moment of unrestrained emotion when Spock discovers Kirk is still alive and he cries "Jim!" as his whole face lights up and he grabs him. It's one of the only times in TOS that he's in his right mind and yet too overwhelmed to hide what he feels, and it's famous for a reason.

[cayleeuhithinknott]

𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵𝑺 𝑭𝑶𝑹

𝑺𝑾𝑬𝑬𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻!𝑴𝑨𝑻𝑻

sfw, suggestive, and nsfw section !

sfw

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨…loves surprising you with your favorite foods, even if it's just a bag of your go-to chips or a homemade dessert.

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨…always holds your hand when you're walking together, even in public, he can't let go of you for a second.

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨…can't help but get you little cute gifts every time he goes out, even if it's just a tiny keychain or something silly he thinks you'll like.

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨…loves cuddling with you on lazy days, and he's totally fine with you stealing his sweatshirt.

when you're feeling down, 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 doesn't say much—he just listens to you vent and holds you close, never letting go until you feel better.

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨…sends you random texts throughout the day with little heart emojis or a simple "thinking about you" because he wants to remind you how much he cares.

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨…makes sure to always be your biggest cheerleader, no matter what.

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨…loves making you laugh, even if it means doing something goofy or embarrassing just to see that smile on your face.

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨…is constantly touching you in little ways, like running his hand down your back or brushing a stray hair from your face.

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨‘𝐬…a huge sucker for anything romantic, so expect spontaneous flower deliveries or him writing you sweet little notes that make you blush.

when 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 is proud of you, he can't help but show it, whether it's a kiss on your forehead or telling you how amazing you are over and over.

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨…loves taking you on spontaneous adventures, whether it's a hike or just a late-night drive to nowhere, just to spend quality time with you.

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨‘𝐬…very soft with you when you're tired, always making sure you're comfortable and pulling you into bed to rest.

when you're not feeling your best, 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 makes sure you're wrapped in blankets and that you're as cozy as possible. he doesn't leave your side until you're okay.

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨…is always thinking of ways to make you feel special, like cooking you dinner or planning a surprise date that you'll always remember.

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨…loves having little playful pillow fights with you, even if he's much stronger than you and ends up laughing while you try to hit him. he'll always let you win in the end, and when you do, he'll give you the cutest kiss on the forehead.

no matter where you two are, 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 will always offer you his jacket if it's even slightly chilly. he insists it's because you look cute in it, but it's really just because he loves taking care of you in any way he can.

when you're stressed or unsure about something, 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 is always there to reassure you. he'll hold your hand, give you a soft kiss on the cheek, and tell you everything will be okay. he'll say something like, "i'm here, don't worry. i believe in you."

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨…always notices the little things about you. whether it's the way you smile when you're excited or how you wear that one bracelet he gave you all the time. he'll always point it out in the sweetest way, making you feel seen and loved.

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨…is so affectionate when you're alone together-soft kisses, lingering touches, and you can definitely tell how badly he wants you, but he's gentle with it.

suggestive

when 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 is feeling particularly needy, he'll pull you close, whispering sweet things in your ear about how badly he wants you, but he's still sweet about it.

when you're in bed together, 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 is the type to press slow, soft kisses down your neck, his hands grazing your sides as he tells you how much he loves having you so close.

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨…gets turned on by the smallest things, like when you wear his shirt or when your fingers accidentally brush his thighs.

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨…after long days, has a tendency to massage you-slow, sensual strokes that get a little more intimate the longer it goes on.

when 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 is in the mood, he's very much into that sweet teasing—drawing it out and making you wait as he slowly undresses you, kissing every inch of skin he uncovers.

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨…loves when you at least try to take control, and seeing you get even a little confident and assertive turns him on in ways he can't explain.

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨…gets a huge ego boost when you tell him how much you want him, and he can't help but grin when you do, often kissing you in appreciation.

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨‘𝐬…not shy when it comes to praise either—he'll always whisper how gorgeous you look, how good you feel, and how amazing you’re doing.

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨…loves when you're a little shy about initiating things, because it always gives him the chance to take the lead and be gentle but commanding with you.

when 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 gets a little more rough with whatever he’s doing, it's always with clear consent, only by specific request from you. and he makes sure to check in with you to ensure you're comfortable—though he's still slightly assertive in the moment.

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨…has a thing for hearing you meekly moan his name, and it drives him wild when you finally start getting louder, despite your shy nature.

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨…loves kissing you and leaving dark marks in places no one else would see—on your breasts, on your inner thighs, just because it feels so much more intimate and personal.

nsfw

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨…is so insanely sweet after sex. gets you snacks, water, and runs you a bubble bath.

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨…loves when you rarely let him fuck you raw and cum inside you. it is his favorite thing ever. he loves being able to really feel you and the way you flutter around him.

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨…loves eating you out more than anything else. he loves receiving head from you, but he’d so much rather be giving it to you.

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨…absolutely loves missionary. he loves being able to see your flustered, fucked-out face. and he loves that he has easy access to your lips and your tits. but, sometimes he can settle for hitting it from the back for you. you like backshots because you can shyly hide your face in the pillows and don’t have to go through the embarrassment of knowing he’s staring at your face while he fucks you. it feels just about as good, and if you’re happy, matt’s happy, so both positions are a win to him.

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨…always kisses you, praises you, holds your hand, and tells you how much he loves you while you’re having sex. it’s such a sweet, passionate thing to him and he wants to make sure you feel that too.

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨…has a specific photo of you that he masturbates to. one he’d snapped during sex with your knees pressed to your chest and your flushed face turned to the side.

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨…would never do anything rough to the point where he thinks it could hurt you. his biggest concern during intimacy is your safety, happiness, and pleasure. he is absolutely terrified of accidentally doing something to hurt you, even if you’d express to him that you’d want it.

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨…absolutely loves going slow and deep most of the time. he just loves savoring the moment. but, sometimes he will pound you, and you both love that just as much.

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨…loves using your vibrator on you, especially when you start to get all overstimulated and flustered. it’s a wonderful sight for him.

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨…hates quickies. hates them. he loves being able to take his time with you and relish in the intimacy. he doesn’t see the point if he can’t do that.

a/n: loved making these 🥺 he’s so cute i need him badddddd. mean!chris hc’s and blurb coming in the next few days

tags: @sturniolo04 @admeliora94 @alexturnersgooch @strnilolover @snuffbut @frattboychris @marrykisskilled @mqttittude @purpledragon222 @aubsloveschris @slctsblogana @emely9274 @oliviasthatgirl @conspiracy-ash @matthewsroses @pasteldreams

[mrswrightreal]

Hello!! I was wondering if I could request a Ticci toby x ASPD!(Sociopath!)GN!reader. Basically that reader is in a rage episode at the moment, which for me can look like screaming and breaking things, which was a build up of stress for Days and then they just snapped and toby helping them through it

-Sincerely, 👾 anon

MY FIRST EVER NAMED ANON HELLLOOOO :))) and yes I love this. I struggle with a disorder similar and it is so comforting to write and read about it, much love and I hope you're doing okay! also PSA to everyone!!! requests are open so please request things! I need motivation to write so bad!

REALIZATION AFTER POST I DID NOT SEE THE SOCIOPATH THING IM SORRY ILL DO A BETTER ONE SOON!

you're okay.

pairing: tobias rogers x GN!reader

category: angst/fluff

synopsis: you're retractive, suffering with anxiety. not like being anxious, like you are suffering, angry, snappy. you seem to be off recently. your aggression worsened today, finally snapping as you're in your room screaming and smashing belongings. toby finally finds you and helps you.

warnings: sensitive topics, anxiety, social anxiety, aggressive behavior, mention of substance abuse

as if the week could not get any worse. the pain and regret building up in your stomach with every hour that passed by, every minute, every second. your life of current shut outs and mood swings. staying away and distancing so it wouldn't hurt others when you didn't show up for them. you were isolated, completely different than normal. what even is normal? did anyone truly know?

the week started off slow, a night of no rest, getting up and doing your same routine, working day in day out, secluding yourself in your room, friends constantly asking you to come out with them. but all they got was a 'I'm busy'. you truly were busy, finally laying in bed, away from everything. the thought of even leaving the house made your stomach bubble with this sick feeling.

the next day, you had been at work, and suddenly were asked to speak to your boss. you swallowed that thick rock in your throat and thought of every scenario that could go by. your palms sweat and shook as you walked to the man's office. you knocked quietly and entered.

he had sat you down and talked about your lack of effort recently, and you tried to explain to him your recent life, hut you only recieved the; "separate work life from home life" and "everyone is tired" speech. now that's just great. you've made an embarrassment out of yourself and will probably never be good enough for another job. your thoughts spiraled.

and then the next day, stepping out of your car, a group of teenage girls walked past, laughing at what you could only assume was either you or your outfit. the entire day, you felt tears stinging your waterline. looking in the mirror every hour and telling yourself, "you know the outfit was ugly. wociety would be ashamed to know a person like you. you felt like everyone's eyes were on you. when in reality, those girls were laughing about a funny post online they saw. you went home and cried about how you looked all night.

the next few days were of the norm, sitting at your job for hours, coming home, sleeping, job, home, sleep. the only person you even cared to try and see was toby. he had been your boyfriend for quite some time now, understanding what you go through, as he suffers from multiple disorders too. but last night, you two had gotten in an argument about simply nothing. a petty bicker that only left you sitting at your table, thinking back to your old days of forgetting.

you used alcohol to forget about the anxiety that filled your head and body to the brim, thinking it'd wash everything away. you fell to addiction, and you'd finally climbed back out. atleast you weren't there anymore. atleast you're able to manage normally now. normal? what is normal?

that brings you to present, current, the now. staring at the unopened glass bottle of beer, glaring at it like it can understand how I feel. the pent up anger that clouded your mind made hot tears fall down your cheeks and hands tug at your hair. your voice was hoarse from yelling at nothing, only the walls able to withstand everything you had to say. everyone else leaves, no one wants you, no one stays. you have nobody. nobody wants you. no one stays. no one ever stays.

you stood up and picked up the bottle of beer, screaming as you chucked it against the tile of your kitchen. the bottle shattering and foaming beer spilling everywhere. the screams and cries tore at your throat, hands coming in contact with the plate left out and chucking it at the wall, leaving a dent before shattering. you tangled your hands into your hair, covering your ears to stop the ringing.

you screamed, the pounding in your head growing more and more prominent. as you walked to your room, slamming the door so hard behind you, you swore the frame cracked, you picked up the nearest thing. it was a picture frame of you and toby, a cute photo of you two on the Faris wheel. you cried at it, knowing he'd probably leave you too. you held it so hard it shattered, the glass piercing into your fingers and drawing blood.

you just cried, yelling and ripping apart your room. little did you know, toby was coming back to apologize, and when he found the front door unlocked, he knew something was wrong. he walked into your home, noticing the shattered plate and bottle. he then heard your screams and cries, random bashing and clanging to the ground. his heart pounded in fear of what you were doing to yourself.

he slipped running so fast, trying his best to get to you as soon as possible. he busted through your door and spotted you sitting on the ground, crying. your room was shredded, clothes stripped everywhere, atinques and collected figure thrown and broken, pictures ripped or cracked, and dents in the walls. the most important thing, of course, was you.

you looked up and met his eyes, your teary ones only sobbing out more when you saw him. he hurried over, gently holding his arms out for you. as he sat down and helped you into his lap, you squirmed around, trying to shove him off.

"toby go away! stop it! Just go!" you screamed at him, your fists slowly stopping their attempts to hit on his body, slowly turning to grip his shirt and sob.

he cradled you and held your head in his chest. he rubbed his tumb over your cheek and squeezed you, knowing the pressure eased the anxiety.

"hey, shh, hun you're okay. I've got you" he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head and rocking you gently. he let you sob, hit, and thrash at him all you want, "hun, cmon you can hit me, I can take it." he tried to laugh a bit but just gave a sympathetic smile when you sobbed harder.

I repositioned his grip, holding you under your knees and back and lifted you. he maneuvered his way to your bed, gently climbing in and letting you rest on him. he pulled your blanket over the two of you, his arms returning to hold you steady to his chest. his shirt was stained with tears, the blood from your fingers, and probably your snot, but he didn't care, he loved you, and was there for you. he wasn't leaving. he'd never leave you, he loves you.

"hey, love, open your eyes please" he hummed, placing his hands on your cheeks and making you look him square in the face, "I ain't goin anywhere, I'm right here, always will be. don't worry about a thing, you've always got me." he measured you, pressing a kiss to each tear stained cheek, then your forhead and nose.

he let you settle back down against him, your breathing calming a bit and tears stopping. your arm wrapped loosely around his torso, head resting against his chest. you grounded yourself by listening to his heart beat. steady and sound. knowing toby was alive, and that he was here. he didn't judge you for any of this, always understood, always let you sob and hit, always helped. maybe he was lasting forever.

"thank you" you mumbled quietly before fluttering your wet lashes closed and falling asleep, the episode tiring you out.

"always, hun, I've got you" I kissed your head again, holding you a bit closer and watching you fall asleep.

toby stayed awake for a little longer, rubbing small circles on your back and cheeks. he loved the way your eyes twitched when you were sleeping, or the way your lips parted softly, or when you sprawled out and snored like a chainsaw. he loves you. he loves you. he loves you. and he simply was staying. you couldn't get rid of him even if you tried.

and yes, he'd wake up, make you food and coffee, and help you clean everything up. he'd do it all for you, never make you lift even your pinky. giving you reassuring whispers and kisses through the day, checking up and smiling at you. he did everything in his power to make sure you knew he loved you. it's the bare minimum of what you deserve.

___________________________

author notes: I have no idea what your experience is like but based on research this is what I had taken from it! I hope it's okay. I hope you know you are loved and please reach out to me if you need to talk! I'm always here THST GOES FOR ALL OF YALLL much love <3

[shangqinghuasbiggestfan]

Shang qinghua is someone I love (if you can’t already tell), but he needs to die.

I need a fanfic where Sqh dies in the most horrific brutal way known to man. Even better if it’s in a way that makes people feel bad, like he, idk, got clawed to peices by a verendre-wolf (but an actual thing) because one of the other peaklords wanted to have its fur, but was stupid enough to not do the research before hand, and know that that specific beast has no merchants selling its fur. And that there’s a reason for that.

Because the beast is extremely hard to kill. There’s almost 0 show of the beast ever BEIBG defeated before in the past.

Does Sqh know that? Of course he does. Does he also know that he’s going to get teared into at the next meeting by whatever rich spoiled peak lord told him to get it? You betchya.

Normally, he would have taken Liu qingge, but he was already out with sqq on a hunt. So, being the author, and the only one to know the beasts weakness, decides “fuck it. I can at least try to kill it” (even better if he’s drunk). And he goes. And almost kills it. Just to get his body ripped to shreds.

The news hits the sect hard. The peak lords don’t know what to do. This shidi of theirs, who was always quivering and anxious, who, despite being among them for years, they never knew anything about, was dead. It’s really bad. Liu qingge feels bad, because, like, even if he never liked or understood (tried to understand) the mousy man, he should have atleast been there, right?

Yue qingyuan would feel really bad. He, as sect leader, should have been looking after his shidis and shimeis, but he never bothered with shang Qinghua. He would be lying if he said he had anything of a comrady with thwt man. Shang qinghua was just so nervous, so quiet, that he never really stood out. Yue qingyuan immediately blames himself, and even reprimands himself. -what is that was xiao-jiu-

Sqq is the worst (sy). It takes him a while to even realise. It only occurs to him once, while eating melon seeds and thinking if giving it to sqh, that he remembers- he can’t. Sqh, the only thing that was a way to his previous life, the one person who he could talk too, the only other transmigrator, who understood him and his emotions too a deeper level then anyone else.. was gone. And was never coming back. Sqq, blames Sqh for being stupid enough to get himself killed at first, but soon that turns into “if only I was there” or “it only I helped”- just “if only”’s all about. Because despite it all, sqq did care about that stupid airplane. Of course he did. How could he not?

Mobei jun takes it the worst. After finding out the news, he destroys most of the palace, before locking himself into his room (id imagine this would be before luo binghe falls into the abyss. Let’s say sqq and sqh knew about each other earlier). This human was crafty yet always nervous. He was quiet but smart and constantly proved he had infinite potential and knowledge. And. To be honest. He.. was important to mobei.

Luo binghe knows that his Shishu died. He didn’t particularly know this shishu well, however he did know that sqh was important to his shizun. That has to mean he was a good person. Lbh often asks himself if shizun would be as sad when he died. He knows it’s bad. That he completely just irrelevates this shishu of his.. but he barely knew the man. (Sqq freezes up around lbh all the time. Why does he look and act like sqh so much? Why?)

Sqh, on the other hand, wonders why he’s alive again, but instead of as sqh, he’s in his old straight and red haired body, and yet, still in his book. The system simply says “user 001 had died. Due yk the amount of points he has accumulated and his repeated use of the system, he has been given a second chance without a story line! User has unlocked “the writing of god” storyline! Well done!” And it disappears.

[dumbgoondog]

Inumaki nsfw alphabet I BEG of you 🙏🙏

I gotchu

Cw/Tw - uuuhhhhhhhh dunno, he’s a perv I guess?

Toge Inumaki NSFW Alphabet

(A)ftercare - he’s not Prince Charming, he’s a let’s cuddle and rest together, kind of guy. Maybe he has a drink on the bedside stand for you both to share!

(B)ody Part - Ass and tits, thighs, tummy. He likes fat bitches, men and women, everyone in between and outside too.

(C)um - condom, he likes tying them off and too you, make you look like a pornstar. He’s kinda shnasty

(D)irty Secret - He wants to get pegged. Strap on, suck on it and fucked on it.

(E)xperience - None, he grew up at Jujustu tech with Panda, there weren’t many he could talk too. God has it made him a sex fiend and pervert tho. He’s a Pepsi with twelve mentos in him.

(F)avorite Position - On the bed, missionary, on the floor, doggy, on the wall, sideways, forwards, backwards, reverse, upside down, carrying, raw- you get it

(G)oofy - VERY. He loves laughing, enjoying the funny things, he wants things to be relaxed between you two!

(H)air - messy white/grey hair, not groomed, washed but a bit musky still. He could do better. If you’re hairy tho? Let him at it. He wants to explore the jungle.

(I)ntimacy - surprisingly very! He’s a bit insecure about not being able to talk, it’s a disability tbh! Since he can’t talk tho, he’s constantly physically affectionate, trying to spend time with you, getting you gifts, helping you with things as you need, it’s great! If you have periods he has your periods tracked and has all the things to help you and keep you comfortable.

(J)ack off - often. Very often. His libido is HIGH. Mf jerks it at least once every other day. He’s a dog, it’s always the quiet ones

(K)ink - crying. Dacryphilia. Not because you’re in pain or unhappy, but from overstimulation or just the pleasure is really good! He’s a bit embarrassed about it tho.

(L)ocation - anywhere! His bean bag is a favorite tho! Jus so comfy!

(M)otivation - He’s really easy to get excited, skirts, a button undone, sweaty, working out, fresh from the shower, messy after work, bending ova even!

(N)o - I don’t know mb. Nothin illegal but he’s a freak

(O)ral - he can’t explain it, he’s just… nervous to use his mouth on you. He doesn’t think yer dirty no nothin, jus he’s always had people been tellin him to be careful with it. Kissin you is helpin with that tho and loves when you use your mouth on him!

(P)ace - power bottom. Otherwise a bratty teasin top, no in between. He’s tellin you to bounce, or push it back, or push in more. Whatever pace depends on how nice he’s feelin

(Q)uicky - Yes! Especially if neither of you finish and get to squirm after! The denial feels so good!

(R)isk - he’s willing to try things for sure, but he loves risk in public places a lot. Dirty talk, groping, fingering, jerking, grindin, you name it

(S)tamina - he’s got good stamina, not crazy stamina. You know what he does have tho? Like Gojo, he’s a cum dumper. He will cum again and again until he’s spent.

(T)oys - loves them, he has a collection! Vibrators and butt plugs! Yessir! Dildos and straps? Hell yeah! Damn he even is willing to try a cage if you want

(U)nfair - Very teasin, bratty and fun, but he’s slick too. He’s so sneaky about it and keeps up his decently calm and polite persona aroun everyone pretty good while he’s fondling your ass

(V)olume - He’s tryin to be quiet, muffle himself, he doesn’t want to accidentally say something, but he’s tryin doesn’t mean he’s good at it!

(W)ild Card - he wants to learn to pole dance and as a side gig be a stripper/pole dancer.

(X)-ray - stupid print boxers. Graffiti, animals, brands like cup ramen or soda, he has flags too but like… the British flag, Greenland flag, Pakistan. Why? It’s his secret hobby. Collecting country flag underwear. He’s got SpongeBob underwear where his dick fits where SpongeBob’s nose is like a cod piece.

(Y)es - he’s so up for multiple people joining in on the fun or watching. He’s secretly just such a whore and I have no basis for why he is but it feels correct! Have you seen how he has to do that tongue thang before speaking? You get it.

(Z)zz - honk mee mee mee. Cuddle up and sleep. G’night!

[kfan04]

I'm so, so glad I caught you. That's a ton of lore, and believe me, I tried my hardest to find out at least half of this information and didn't manage to. You kinda brought me a bag of candies with this one <3

Actually, I think you've suggested the answer to my initial question (the one I had in my head) about what's Romeo's problem. I was trying to find a reason behind his decisions, and "I won't lose anything else" seems the most convincing out of all I could've thought of.

It explains his persistence with Kaito while not contradicting (as far as I know) any plot points. There are some questions left, like: How did they first meet? What happened with Romeo's family? What has changed with the Clash? What is it about Kaito's pendant? What is it about Kaito's family? In what particular way is Kaito's presence valuable/advantageous for Romeo? Or the one I'm very curious about: Is there a way out for Kaito? I just feel sorry for the dude. I study business and constantly feel the urge to get inside the story and help him figure his debts out (possibly by also making him pinky promise me he won't gamble again). Although my beliefs would clash hard with the reality of the absence of law and basically prison of the environment... But for now I'm satisfied.

Just a couple of things I wanted to adress:

- there's definitely some tension, or maybe, competition between Taiga and Jin

That scene in the assembly was so nerve-wracking! With MC's help, Jin just straight up forced Taiga, who is very unstable and self-righteous, to sit still. Taiga's reaction made me think it wasn't the first time it happened? Was Jin using this power on the regular basis before? Taiga's "Jin" could mean he actually respects him, though who knows.

Frostheim and Sinostra, political power and wealth and danger and money, they go well together, but work on the different principles. The relationship between these two has to be very special. That's why Romeo's grudge for Frostheim and Taiga's... how would you call that look he gave Jin? There's more to it, I would say.

- Luca's time in Darkwick

I haven't even considered Luca to be eventually leaving! You know how in anime transfer students usually stay until the very end? I thought it would be the case. Plus, Darkwick is the kind of place nobody can leave — I remember realising that and thinking, "Luca is now cooked."

But now that you mention it, yes, Luca might transfer back after all... Again, given the genre of the game, unlikely, but it's not like the characters know they are in the game. Luca for now seems to be the most clueless about Darkwick character. He's doing what he thinks is right... but generally playing by the rules of others. I found it interesting when he was shown to be kinda bloodlusted in chapter 1, slicing that anomalies again and again after they've already died. He is also quite reckless, jumping into action immediately. This is almost the opposite from Kaito, who overthinks everything.

It makes sense Kaito knows a whole lot about Darkwick, having spent a year there already. Even as someone who tries to actively avoid trouble and danger, he seems to know important information. Between Luca and Kaito, Luca is more skilled, but Kaito is more involved. He is more of a player, in every sense, while Luca is interested in outside words, or particularly his goal, demons, than in politics. But it could change! In the case of Vagastrom, Leo was chosen to be vice because of his marks, I think? If Luca doesn't leave, he has a better chance in this case.

- what Kaito is capable of

You've mentioned how Darkwick might know more about Kaito than Kaito does himself, and I lean to this as well! Kaito's stigma has to do with auras — in chapter 13, he saw the mirror's aura without saying any incantation first. Does his stigma work all the time, like Subaru's? Kaito doesn't want to use MC's powers, which makes it very intriguing how they would work. If his stigma allows him to discover more about the person, would strengthening stigma allow him to know even more about the insides of the person? Or maybe influence them somehow?

Kaito's stigma may have to do with his interests. He knows astronomy, and someone mentioned he was shown with Taro cards in the chibi images. In the prologue, he was addressing some higher powers to escape from Romeo, which could be for comic relief, of course, or not. Do you happen to know anything else about it?

- Romeo & Hyde

Hyde is sketchy, period. He also holds a lot of power and participates in the academy's decision-making. But is he on Romeo's side, really?

Romeo mentioned he worked a lot to get the position he has now. It probably refers to what he has gone through after his family's crash. Hyde mentions it is Romeo who is more active in their relationship. This suggests Romeo was the one who approached Hyde first, possibly wanting something from, but if we look at their dynamics now, Hyde is constantly calling Romeo — almost as if he's the one establishing their objectives. Hyde definitely holds power over Romeo in many ways, manipulating him, while also doing stuff behind his back.

I think Hyde is using Romeo to destabilise Darkwick's environment, in return covering for him and Sinostra, and giving him an illusion of advantage over other houses and over everyone else. And Romeo either genuinely believes it will benefit him, or is afraid of Hyde and is too deep... I think. He certainly gives Hyde more respect than he does regarding anyone else.

Linking it back to Kaito, I'm only curious if Hyde had some say in this situation. Did he somehow hinted Kaito would be of use? Or maybe it's just Romeo's individual investment.

Thank you so much for sharing all of this! You're very kind. I hope your computer gets better.

What do you think is going on with Kaito and Romeo?

I've posted this on Reddit and now I'm posting it here so I more people see it and talk to me!

Particularly I'm interested in why Romeo seems to be so clingy with Kaito. I know that there are already some explanations — Kaito's debt and Kaito's pendant — but don't you think Romeo is putting too much effort into this?

Regarding **debt**: does Romeo chase around everyone with debt on the regular basis? Also, the academy is clearly full on well-off students, it would make much more sense to concentrate on them. Kaito doesn't have money and he won't somehow get them out of nowhere (Luca is another discussion).

Regarding **pendant**: have you noticed that Romeo is trying to convince Kaito to give him the pendant, instead of taking it away by force? Throughout the chapters he hasn't really tried to take the pendant away, although I think Romeo's more than capable of it. He is stronger than Kaito and the latter didn't have any protectors before Luca (Tohma and Jin are also not shown to be close enough to Kaito to defend him in the past). Otherwise, there must have been tons of opportunities for Romeo to hurt or kill Kaito and take away the pendant, everyone dies left and right, even when they were on the mission — little accident, minus one ghoul, nobody would've probably suspected anything. Why hasn't Romeo taken the pendant away already?

Regarding **Romeo's time and effort**: despite being the busy man Romeo claims he is, he still finds time to regularly look around for Kaito, calling his name, and with a gun. He asks MC for Kaito's schedule — twice. He spams Kaito with messages. He locks Kaito in the cage in his private office very few people know about — this is just another level, because why. He also takes Kaito on a mission with him, when being told that was his chance to assemble the best possible team — notably, he goes for Kaito before contacting his actual friends, and also has to threaten Kaito to go with him in first place. On the mission, it's Romeo's decision to split, and both times he takes Kaito with him, also physically dragging him and just casually intimidating him along the way.

Who would go that far for the indebted guy? Or even for a pendant? It's more like Romeo's interested in Kaito being constantly around, but also, why?

Regarding **Romeo's attitude**: he's the mix of tenderness and frustration when it comes to Kaito. The phrase he use to call him is *Doko itta no, dete oide?* which translates kinda like *Where have you gone? Come on, come out!* and is often used to talk to animals and kids. He also uses *Fuji-kun*, emphasising on either Kaito being his kouhai, or being on friendly terms with him. He's very touchy when it comes to Kaito — grabbing his hand, his collar, his ear, shaking his shoulders, clamping a hand over his mouth. It's not necessarily tender, but it seems that Romeo finds it absolutely natural to act towards Kaito in such way. Romeo's also often implying Kaito acts unreasonable towards him when not willing to comply, like when Kaito is hiding or running away from him, or when he doesn't want to go on the mission. One time he says something along the lines "there's more on the map than that, so just shut up and do as I say", implying it's in Kaito's interest to listen to him.

**Why does Romeo seem to be convinced that Kaito should be doing as he says without asking questions?**

Regarding **Kaito's attitude**: Kaito isn't shown to be super intimidated by Romeo. Yes, he runs away away from him, and in one voiceline he mentions he started getting chills when someone calls his name because of Romeo — so it's not like Kaito doesn't recognise Romeo as a threat. However, Kaito is constantly talking back and resisting. When talking to Romeo, Kaito openly questions his decisions, mocks him, swears at him, uses *omae*, simply disagrees and Romeo has to put *a lot of* effort to actually get Kaito to do something — and half of the time, Kaito doesn't do what is expected of him anyway. He talks to Romeo almost freely, definitely less scared than with Jin or with Tohma, or even with Ren or Jiro. Interestingly, Kaito uses *Romeo-san*, instead of *-senpai*, like with Tohma and Jin. Kaito also doesn't seem to have a clue about why Romeo is following him, but he's not interesting in figuring it out either, just "weird guy, ugh how annoying, does he ever stop".

Unlike Romeo who perceives his own actions as natural, justified as "Well I'm just collecting debt", Kaito openly talks about how strange Romeo acts towards him. Locked in the cage, he says "shut up, kidnapping creep" and "do you even realise how unhinged you sound" when Romeo says no one would save him from there... When MC says "he has certainly taken a liking to you", Kaito corrects "liking, more like stalking".

For now, no one except Luca and to some degree MC hasn't commented on Romeo's and Kaito's connection — do they know? Or do they don't care? Or both.

Regarding **timeline**: Kaito mentions Romeo has been on his tail for half of the year. Before that, he wasn't even in the gambling den. This lines up with the estimated time of the Clash. Does Romeo's interested in Kaito has something to do with the Clash? Did it just happen in the same time? Kaito says he has somehow avoided the Clash — he himself doesn't connect the Clash with Romeo's interest in him. Kaito doesn't seem to connect Romeo's interest with anything, implying it was sudden. It could be that the determining point of the Romeo's interest was the moment Romeo was looking at Kaito from a distance, if Kaito cannot remember any special confrontation. What doesn't line up is the warding card of Romeo standing above Kaito and looking at his pendant — judging by his expression, for the first time. Who wouldn't have remembered this situation? Another thing, Kaito mentions that he hasn't seen Romeo much before, and he wasn't even in the gambling den. So although Romeo justifies his hobby by collecting debt, he possibly wasn't that interested in collecting this debt initially, before that special point six month ago.

Regarding **paperwork**: Luca repays Kaito's debt in the prologue, another simple solution to Kaito repaying his debt and Romeo not having to go after him ever again. Yet Romeo claims "he still owes rate of interest, so it's not enough to buy his freedom". To which Luca replies "I'd like to see the paperwork then", and Romeo's muttering he "hates men with brain". Other than Kaito commenting on how he didn't know about the rate of interest (which could be written off as ignorance, and not necessarily as Romeo deceiving him), Romeo's comment suggests there might be something unclear with the documentation. Another important paper is the one Romeo threatens to show the MC when telling Kaito to join him on the mission. It is not the debt-related issue — MC already knows about it. It is something that Kaito feels to be embarrassed about, and something that allows Romeo to say "you really think you can say no?". In the prologue, when Romeo demands pendant, Kaito also replies with "this is one thing you will never get from me" — one thing? Does that mean Kaito agrees in some way Romeo can demand anything else? The paper which Romeo threatens to show the MC — which conditions are written there?

Let's assume that Kaito does owe Romeo more than money. What exactly is Romeo gaining in this situation? Why would he need specifically Kaito's compliance in the first place? Why Kaito of all people, of all ghouls. Okay, maybe Romeo thinks it's handy to get a guy who he can threaten to do anything. Why would he put so much energy into keeping Kaito close to him — especially on the occasions that could've used more catered to the situations ghouls, like the mission. Judging by how he addresses Kaito as "plebeian", he doesn't think Kaito's pendant connects him with the powerful family, plus he comments how Kaito doesn't know its true value. So Romeo is not after Kaito's potential prestige.

Romeo's behaviour doesn't make sense. It especially doesn't make sense considering he *is acting rationally* when it comes to missions, or his income, or dealing with others, which means there *is* an explanation for how he acts with Kaito — my guess, it directly or indirectly includes money, or another physical value.

What is notable, is that *Romeo is deliberately keeping Kaito close* and *monitors his actions*.

What are your thoughts? Have I missed something? I'd die to discuss, really. I see all these signs, but I can't really understand what it means. I know we are quite early in the story, but for the 13 chapters the story has been very consistent with the relationship between Romeo and Kaito, and Kaito's pendant. I'm super interested to know what others think!

[i-reblog-everything44]

The fandom when Anya is nice to jimmy and compliments/butters him up after the crash: obviously this is a fawn response. She doesn’t actually think these things about jimmy, she is simply trying to protect herself against a volatile, unstable person by placating him

The fandom when curly tries to placate jimmy by telling Jimmy he’d fix things, after being very nervous about jimmy’s anger and reaction when talking to Anya right beforehand and his heart racing so hard on the way to confront jimmy that he’s likely on the verge of a panic or anxiety attack: hmm. Obviously everything curly is saying to jimmy here is completely genuine and not motivated by anything. He obviously doesn’t care about the fact jimmy raped Anya and only cares about helping jimmy at the detriment to Anya. He’s a rape apologist. There could literally be no other potential explanation for why curly is saying the things he is saying right now. Let’s take everything curly is saying here completely at face value and not analyze anything else about Curly’s behavior or the rest of the scene.

[seriously why are people only capable of recognizing the fawn response in Anya and not Curly]

[realbeefman]

stacy is sooo interesting because she's in love with house but knows that they will never ever be able to have a healthy, stable, sane relationship because they're too similar so. she finds house-lite instead and marries him and. essentially moves on with her life! and is successful in this because she's a moderately well-adjusted person!

wilson, in contrast, never manages to escape the inevitable, in spite of his best efforts to find a house-lite of his very own, because he's an absolute fucking freak and ends up glued to house to the bitter. bitter end

[shirogane-oushirou]

no promises anymoooooreeeee i'll appear online when i appear online 😭 every time i say "ooh i think life is almost done being overwhelming!" it. becomes even more overwhelming in the dumbest ways. all i can manage rn when i'm not stressing myself into a shut-down state is staring at the wall while listening to youtube essays + mindlessly crocheting.

i might queue up ppls art and fics w/o commentary in the tags... i want other ppl to see what all of my cool friends have made, but i genuinely can't think right now with this monstrous brain fog. i'm really sorry, just. yeah. maybe i'll think of some way to make it up later!!! once the dust has settled!!!! but until then i wuv u and miss u. smiles.

[venting in tags including familial manipulation and ableism. i. didn't mean to write all of that, thiss was originally going to be a main blog post but. aaaaaAAAAAA!!!!!

also no need for replies or anything, i'd turn them off for just the one post if i could kjsndkn, i just needed to get things out and go eep jsjndsfdn ok bye bye bye bye!!!!]

[paragonrobits]

"why did Zuko's memories portray Azula Like That? Is he an unreliable narrator? do the authors hate younger sisters"

Azula was openly Ozai's favorite, and even at that age she had enough political savvy to know that she can functionally do no wrong; the only time anyone expresses any kind of open disapproval of her at all is when her mother tells her off or complains about it. A rich child of that age who is also the favored daughter of one of the most powerful men in the country (and as Iroh doesn't seem to have much interest in politicking at all, Ozai likely had more political power than Iroh ever did), she could get away with pretty much anything she felt like doing, and she knew it

the most significant factor being, in addition to that, that she is emulating everything Ozai says and does; even if she doesn't BELIEVE it herself (and based on her other statements and actions at times when she doesn't have anything to gain by toeing the party line, she probably does), that is still going to color her world view and personal decisions

so, assuming Zuko's memories ARE accurate (and the show doesn't really do unreliable narrator that much), its pretty clear why Azula is Like That. It's because she's the openly favored child of a notoriously violent and cruel tyrant, and already a pampered child of the most powerful family in a country that reveres power and ferocity above anything else, and she is actively imitating that violent and cruel tyrant.

Given that we have little reason to believe anyone ever disciplined her in any shape or form beyond Ozai expressing disapproval of her actions (and its quite possible he's never really done that either), her behavior isn't surprising at all; if anything she should be significantly worse.