#I was like in the middle of playing and thought

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Danny the Guy Who Won't Die

He lives in Gotham, and he is just A Guy. Nothing weird about him, he's just there to study/work/help Lady Gotham to lift her curse/on vacation with Sam. Point is, he is not there to cause trouble and there's no GIW on his tail. Just a dude living his (after)life.

And Gotham, being Gotham, still finds a way to be annoying. There are mugging attempts, robbery, Rogues running around. Only Danny really doesn't want to deal with any of it.

Now there's a dilemma. If he uses his powers to fight, it will sooner or later come to Bats' attention. And if he fights as a human, it will also alert some of the Bats since he doesn't really do a great job at keeping his power levels low. Not to mention the fact he is really not enthusiastic about accidentally punching someone hard enough he sends them to a hospital.

What does he do instead? He pulls the 'I guess I'll die' act.

So every time he is attacked, he just plays dead. The mugger shot him in the chest? He falls down and stops breathing. Caught up in the middle of a Poison Ivy attack? Skewers himself on the vine and goes lax. Scarecrow's Fear Gas? Very dramatically chokes himself and plays a corpse. He makes sure to disappear before any ambulances arrive later, and it all goes well for a few months - he is just a casualty, who cares, really - until one day, he runs into that same mugger who shot him in the chest a while ago.

The man does a double take. Danny doesn't notice - he's been mugged so many times, who has the brain capacity to remember all of those fuckers. But the rumor goes out anyway.

A guy-who-won't-die. It's more of a city legend, really, and the Bats don't give it much thought since, well, it sounds stupid and not very important. A rumor of some man who was shot dead and then showed up like nothing happened? Yeah, it's probably because the mugger didn't check if he was actually dead. That happens. Maybe it wasn't even the same man, Gotham is a big city. If anything, hey, at least that was one less casualty? That's a good thing.

That is, until one day, they show up to Joker's hostage situation and witness the clown screaming at one of the hostages. He is so enraged he is shaking, spit flying out of his mouth, and, contrary to the usual Joker's evil sneers and maniacal laughter, he seems just... furious. But, like, the normal-human-level furious. The 'I just lost the last ounce of patience with you' furious.

"Don't you look away from me, you think I don't remember you?! Na-ah, I do. You were the one I drowned in the shark tank last week! And you were the one run through the chainsaw trap two weeks before that! And you were in the guillotine!!! I saw your fucking head get deattached from your body, how the fuck are you here again?!"

And the guy he is screaming at just looks at him, confused and incomprehensive.

"Um, I'm pretty sure I'd remember getting my head cut off, you know? So, err, wrong guy."

"Wrong guy my fucking ass-"

Joker is so distracted by his screaming match that it makes it almost too easy for the Bats to fight him down and drag to Arkham. Yet, a few of them get just a bit suspicious.

Now, imagine all the shenanigans when they try keeping a watch on Danny the Won't Die Guy.

[gothicgaycowboy]

𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒌

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 3.1k

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: you make Aemond’s longtime librarian fantasy come to life.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 18+ no minors, fem dom, sub aemond, a cock ring, oral sex (m receiving), deep throating, role play (kinda), unprotected sex, creampie, no use of y/n, edging (m receiving), both reader and aemond are little losers, established relationship, pet names, embarrassing family dinner conversations, a cameo from aemond’s lesbian moms and aegon.

𝙖/𝙣: this was originally going to be the beginning of my kinktober but I didn’t even get a chance to write out any of my other ideas in time. also big thank you to this anon who inspired this fic. hope you enjoy 💋

Up until now you thought you and your boyfriend had no secrets between you, but as it turns out you were wrong.

It started a week ago, you and Aemond drove up the countryside for a weekend to visit his family for Alicent’s birthday. Everyone tried their best to make it up there for big celebrations.

After three years together you feel like a member of the family yourself, Alicent and Rhaenyra even refer to you as their second daughter. You feel more at home with them than you do with your own family — and more importantly you felt like they couldn’t shock you anymore. That lasted until dinner.

Aegon and Aemond had gotten into a tiff about something juvenile that you can’t even remember anymore. Words tossed back and forth at one another from across the table like a tennis match. Rhaenyra was about to interject when Aegon blurted out: “Did you ever tell your sweetheart about what you did with my rag mag?”

Now that caught your attention.

Aemond’s face became beet red. His eyes practically bulged out of his skull in fear. Aegon smiled cockily at his brother’s expression, poking a forkful of their mothers dinner into his mouth.

Alicent and Rhaenyra tried to object to this conversation as soon as the word ‘rag mag’ was tossed out, but were cut short by your boyfriend.

“You wouldn’t.” It was clear Aemond was attempting to sound intimidating when it was obvious to everyone else he was fearing for his life.

“Oh, but I really would.” You vaguely remember overhearing Rhaenyra warn Alicent to cover her ears. Aegon turned his full attention to you, his eyes locked with yours. “When your precious boyfriend was still shorter than me he snuck into my room, snooped through my collection, and ripped out the naughty librarian spread all for himself.”

For the first time since you had met him Aemond became shy. You didn’t quite understand why exactly. Your boyfriend was no saint when it came to sex. He was the one who suggested most of your perverted ventures thus far, so why had he never told you this story himself?

After the table was cleared and conversation changed Aemond popped outside to take a quick smoke break — the perfect opportunity for you to interrogate Aegon a little more. You slid beside him as he washed that night's dishes like the good little son he can be occasionally.

“What was all that about?”

He glanced up at you briefly from the task in front of him. “What was all what about?”

“You know…” you suddenly realised how humiliating it was to talk about sex related topics with your boyfriend's brother. “The magazine drama?”

A knowing smirk crossed the​ Targaryen’s lips. “Ah, you want to know why Aemond threw such a fit about his little secret being outed.” He placed a white salad bowl onto the drying rack before facing you. “Well there are a few theories I have about it — first and most simple of all: maybe he was just embarrassed to have his middle school perversions exposed to our parents. I’m not too convinced by that one though given the simple fact that you two have been fucking at practically every family event you have been invited to thus far.”

It was then your turn for your cheeks to heat up with embarrassment, the memory of being caught half naked by Rhaenyra in the shoe closet still haunts you.

“So that leads me to my second theory: he’s ashamed of you knowing about his librarian fetish.”

Your brows pinched together quizzically. “But that doesn’t make any sense, we’ve done way crazier things together than a little kinky roleplay.”

Aegon closed his eyes and let out a long exhale like he was about to be sick. “I can’t express to you how much I didn’t want to know that.” You smiled at him apologetically letting out a timid ‘sorry’.

The purple eyed boy rubbed at his temples before opening his eyes again. “Okay, I’m probably gonna throw up later and really regret asking you this but: have you ever been in charge? Ya know, taken on the reins while you two are…” He held his hand over his stomach dramatically. “Having sex?”

your gaze remained on the clean kitchen floor as you answered his question. “No…”

“Well there you go, now if you’ll excuse me I need to go drink this conversation from my memory.”

Since that night you have been on a mission: make Aemond’s fantasy come to life.

It started like all good missions did — with a bit of thorough research of course. Aemond is a stickler for details and you needed all of them if you were going to pull this off successfully. The magazine from all the detail you managed to pull out of poor Aegon was a Hustler and based on the years Aemond would have been in middle school you managed to comb through every edition of Hustler during that time until you found it: the librarian spread.

This took you to the next step in your plan: the outfit. There wasn’t really much to it, obviously most of it was pulled off the models body in favour of showing off what was underneath, but you focused on what remained. Petite framed glasses, a white button up (tossed aside on the desk she sat on but you figured she was probably wearing it at some point in time), black pencil skirt, stockings, garter belt, and most importantly no panties.

All of this planning and waiting had finally led up to today. You have a day off to get your shit in order and Aemond’s shift ends early. You are quite proud of yourself honestly. Who knew being a research nerd could come in handy in the bedroom?

Now it was just time to see if Aemond appreciates it as much as you do.

From your spot in the kitchen you hear your boyfriend's keys enter the lock to your apartment – your cue to bolt into the bedroom. Inside the bedroom your heart races, nerves suddenly getting the best of you. What if he didn’t like it? What if he thinks you’re trying to belittle him? What if he thinks you look stupid?

“Baby?” Aemond calls from inside the main hallway.

“In the bedroom!” Well there was no going back now. Fuck it. You press play on the playlist you curated and pose yourself sitting on top of Aemond’s desk, just like the picture.

The door creaks open, revealing the white haired man to you. For a second he doesn’t look up, good eye still locked onto his phone. “What’s with the mu–” His eye meets with yours and stops him in his tracks. The bag he is carrying falls off his shoulder. The way he blushed at the birthday dinner has nothing on the state of his face now.

A few long moments pass by and the two of you remain perfectly still. It makes the knot in your stomach worse. “Please say something.” You beg as Aemond remains gobsmacked.

“You– how did – wh – you look–” He babbles like a small child.

“Please make it intelligible.” you try to lighten the mood as your hands play with each other anxiously.

It seems to shake Aemond out of his idiotict trance. “You look like the librarian from my magazine.”

“I do.” You change your tone to sound calm and collected while feeling like you’re about to explode inside.

“Why?”

“I thought you might appreciate it if I initiated something for once.”

Aemond soaks in the vision before him giving you a swift up and down glance. The pit continues growing in you but you refuse to let it show. “Do you?” You ask, impersonating all those sexually confident people you’ve seen in movies.

“I do.” Thank fuck.

Aemond rips the jacket from off his shoulders, practically running across the bedroom to reach you. He pulls you up off the desk but before he has the chance to kiss you you put a stop to him. Both hands push his face away but remain holding it so he’s forced to look at you. “Not so fast there mister.”

His face is priceless, a perfect mixture of confusion and desperation. “From now on I’m in charge, alright? You are going to lay there like the good boy I know you can be, while the sweet little librarian takes good care of you, understand?”

“Yes, I understand.” His pupil dilates so wide you can hardly see the usual violet colour of his iris.

“Yes you understand who?”

A surprise smirk graces your boyfriend's beautiful face. “Yes, I understand…ma’am.”

“Good, now take off your clothes and get on the bed.” In a flash Aemond’s clothes came flying off you like you have never seen before. You knew this would get him worked up but you did not expect him to be this into it.

As the Targaryen’s boxers hit the floor and he hits the plush mattress you pull open a bag holding your secret weapon for the night. With the ‘weapon’ hiding behind your back you move up the bed straddling his muscular thigh, sitting your bare cunt directly on his skin. His already hard cock twitches with excitement. “Fuck me, are you not wearing any–?”

“No.” you say plainly, like you did this everyday. “Now I’ve got a little something special for you before I completely blow your mind.”

“I really don’t see this getting better than it is but if you say so,” He shrugs his shoulders. “I trust you.”

From behind you you reveal it: a black rubber cock ring. “I wanna see you squirm.”

Aemond’s silver-blonde locks splay out onto the pillows as he plops his head back onto the pillows. “You are trying to kill me, woman.” He groans.

“Oh you love it.” With that you wrap your manicured hand around his cock, stretching the black rubber around the base.Your boyfriend jumps slightly at the contact. “How’s it feel?”

“Wonderful, now can we get on with the main event, please?”

“Don’t forget baby, you’re not the one calling the shots tonight. Be nice to me and I’ll be nice to you.”

“Always.” He smiles. You can’t help yourself against his charms, flopping onto him to plant a sweet kiss to his lips. He wastes no time reciprocating it, taking the kiss from zero to a hundred faster than you can snap your fingers. His tongue slithering its way into your mouth. Your moans vibrated against his lips. Aemond was definitely the best kisser out of all the guys you had been with.

You reach your right hand up pushing it between the two of you, separating your lips. Aemond is clearly about to protest as you cut him off. “Spit.” No bullshit, just straight to the point. Based on the focused expression on his face the dots are taking their sweet time to connect in his pretty little head. Then it clicks and Aemond looks like a kid in a candy shop. He leans over your palm, saliva dripping down into your hand.

As the spit sinks across your palm you reach down to rub the wetness around his throbbing cock, stroking him up and down painfully slowly. Your other hand makes its way to his heavy balls, massaging them delicately in between your fingers.

You always loved playing with Aemond’s cock, but you were never allowed to take your time with it. It’s the one thing you despise about your boyfriend constantly being the one in charge. This was your time to truly tease him like he had been teasing you since you got together.

“Are you gonna be a good boy for me?” You eye him over the glasses perched on your nose.

“Fuck yes!” Aemond yelps with pure euphoria.

“You kiss your mothers with that mouth?” You continue your teasing, the sound of the shucking filling the bedroom.

“No but I really wanna kiss you again — ma’am.” You appreciate that even though he was struggling through it he still uses your proper title.

“Come here baby.” Like a man starved Aemond pushes himself up to meet your lips once more. Now was your chance. With Aemond distracted by the kiss you slowly pull away your hand from his sack to grab the remote for the cock ring off the dresser. Time to hope he enjoys this little extra surprise.

Bzzz…

Aemonds hips slam up into your fist in shock. “Jesus- fuck!”

“Now you know how I feel, huh?” You say recalling all the times that the blonde had used your vibrators on you.

The vibrations make his rod jump, shaking so fast your eyes can’t even comprehend its moving at all. God it’s hot. It had become far too normal for Aemond to watch you shake and your eyes roll back into your head with ecstasy but never you with him. It makes you feel powerful.

“F-feels so fucking good—” Aemond struggles to be coherent through the throws of pleasure.

Your hands pick up the pace, tightening your grip around him. His eyes are becoming more and more glassy as the moments pass by. Settling down till your stomach touches your knees, skirt (barely) coved ass poking out to the air. You kiss your way down his chest, leaving lipstick marks as you go until you reach the base of his vibrating cock.

Your mind swarms with ideas of how you can possibly torture him, but you decide against anymore prolonged suffering because of how desperately you need him in your mouth. You lick your way up to his leaking tip, keeping eye contact the entire time.

You run your hands over the sides of his hips as you suck the tip into your mouth. Preparing yourself with a deep breath through your nose, you dive down, deepthroating the rest of him into your throat. The tip of your nose touched the smooth base of his pubic bone. He always filled your holes so perfectly.

The sounds of your throat bobbing over him mixed with muted vibrations and Aemond’s moans make your cunt pulsate. You and Aemond are not new to dirty but something about this type of dirty got you going in a way you have never felt before.

“I’m gonna come—fuck! I’m gonna come down your perfect throat—” That is all you need to hear to pull yourself away from him (as much as you hate to).

Wiping the saliva from the corners of your mouth you press the button on the remote of the cock ring, turning the vibrations off. Aemond whines like a scorned child. A sound you're not familiar with from him, but you could picture yourself getting used to.

“Did you really think that I was going to let you come that fast? I need to make you earn it first, baby.”

He looks up at you, begging. “How? Please just tell me how I’ll do anything, I just need to be inside you. I wanna be your good boy.” His voice cracks like he’s on the brink of tears.

“You have to address me properly.”

“Anything for you ma’am.”

“Now, beg.” You tug the base of his cock into your hands, jerking him off like you were in no rush.

“Please…?” His brows knit together like a kicked puppy.

You halt your movements and grip your boyfriend’s length, not enough to actually hurt him, just enough to make Aemond whine once more. “God do you even want me to fuck you? I said beg.” You say while pulling the almost sheer white top from your body, leaving the skirt and stockings in their place though.

“Please fuck ma’am? I promise I’ll be good for you, I need to be inside of you so bad. I love your cunt so much, I need it around me. I need to feel you come on me, please?”

“Aw, look at that, you are my good boy after all.” With that you are fully on top of him. Hands planted onto his firm chest while you lean forward to tug your skirt up, revealing the lack of underwear beneath them. With his eyes thoroughly distracted by your bare cunt you pull his aching tip inside of your soaking wet entrance.

You had sex not two days before now but somehow the stretch of Aemond inside was still a shock to your system. Maybe it’s because you had never had him like this, crying below you like just being inside you was already the greatest pleasure he could experience.

“Jesus—Christ!”

You take your time adjusting to him, gradually sinking lower towards his abdomen. Your clit grazes the black silicone, alerting you that you’ve reached the bottom. Pushing yourself all the way back up to his tip you slam down as you speak. “Did all that begging make your cock harder, Aem? Do you like begging for me?”

“So much…” The words are almost inaudible through his moans.

“You don’t come until I let you, understand?”

“Yes ma’am.”

It only eggs you on more. The sound of wet skin smacking and whimpering fill your ears. No thoughts pass through either of your heads.

The rocking of your hips became more frantic, desperate. Your soft wet walls hugging your boyfriend like a vice. Aemond’s reach up into the pillows, gripping so hard they change from pink to white instantly.

Your mask begins to fall at the pleasure building in your core. Legs shaking at either side of Aemond’s hips. Just like that you pull the blonde up from his horizontal position, his grip falling from the pillows. Lips crashing together in a blur as sweat pools down both your backs. “I’m so fucking close, can I come, please?” His begging is muffled against your mouth.

“Soon, I promise. Rub my clit for me baby?” He obeyed immediately. His pointer and index finger caressing against your pulsing clit. “Fuck yes! so good Aem.” Your hands wander to his hair, like you are the master and he’s your little puppet.

You can’t hold back anymore, the sensation of his lips against yours mixed with Aemond’s precise movements against your bud send you hurdling towards your orgasm. “M’coming, come for me aem, do it for me baby—” Aemond follows fast behind you, crying out your name as he reaches his peak. His cock painting your insides with his cum.

You come back down to earth together, a jumble of words spilling from both of your lips: I love you, thank you, so good, kiss me.

You collapse into a puddle on your boyfriend’s sweat soaked chest. His fingers travel through your hair as you both catch your breath. As he tucks the lock behind your ears he finally speaks coherently. “So, are you gonna tell me how you managed to replicate the exact outfit from the original photo I used to wank off to or…?”

You smile, lifting your head to face him and his pink flushed cheeks. “A great magician never reveals their secrets.”

[melpomenes-garden]

Pillow

Higuruma Hiromi x Reader • Fluff • WC: 664

CW: Touch starved Hiromi 🥹

“Sweetheart?” Hiromi stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Hey.” Turning, you looked over your shoulder to give him a tired smile. Hiromi yawned and made his way to stand behind you. You turned your attention back to the stove. “I thought you were asleep.” He responded by wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his nose in your hair.

“I was.” You grinned at the muffled vibration against your neck.

“Then why aren’t you still asleep?” You whispered, leaning back into him, gently whisking the milk you were heating. Hiromi pulled his nose away from your neck and rested his chin on your shoulder.

“I couldn’t find my pillow.” He yawned, tightening his grip on your waist.

“Hiromi, I have to get the cocoa powder.” He turned his face back into your neck and grumbled.

“I was just getting comfortable.” He protested. With a chuckle you turned your face a little to look at him. He pulled back and yawned again.

“Oh, that’s charming.” He narrowed his eyes at you. A warmth bloomed across your chest. He was so adorable with his hair wild and his eyes still bleary with sleep. All you wanted to do was run your hands through his hair and fold yourself into him like a koala.

“If I let you get it, will you come back to bed?” He grumbled, not willing to release you. At your nod, He moved to release you. He looked a little surprised when you grabbed his wrists and wound his arms back around your waist. Turning back to look at him again, you gave him a warm smile.

“Walk me to the cabinet, Counselor?”

“Can’t make it by yourself, angel?” Hiromi smirked.

“What can I say, this is a pretty rough town.” You gave him a playful grin. You felt his chest rumble, but he acquiesced and walked you to the cabinet and back. Uncapping the cocoa, you poured some into the milk and gently began stirring again.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Hiromi whispered, resting his chin back on your shoulder. With a sigh, you melted back into his frame. He reached around you and turned off the stove before guiding you towards the bedroom. He noticed how you stiffened as you reached the bedroom door, and instead opted for the couch. Sitting down first, he pulled you back into his chest. “What’s wrong, darling?” He whispered, you rested your head on his shoulder and reached for his hand. Several moments passed like this. Hiromi holding you while you played with his fingers.

“I love you.” The words came out thick. Looking down at his hand, you traced each finger and wove yours in-between his own. “You’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.” You could feel Hiromi's breath stall. His fingers tightened around yours.

“I should be the one saying that.” He rasped. You held up your joined hands towards the light.

“Maybe it’s true for both of us.”

“Y/N?” He rested his chin on the top of your head.

“Yeah?” Lowering your hands, you shifted so you could look up at him.

“Let’s go to the beach tomorrow.” He smiled down at you, and you returned it with a slowly spreading one of your own.

“I’d like that.” Hiromi moved to lay further back, when you remembered something. “Oh!” You shot up, startling him. Hiromi gave you a confused look. “I forgot my milk!” When you moved to get up, He shook his head and pulled you roughly back into his form.

“Sleep.” He shifted and tucked you into his side. You blinked up at him and opened your mouth.

“But,” You tried.

“Sleep.” Your brows raised at his commanding tone.

“Yes, sir.” You mumbled. Satisfied that you weren’t going anywhere, Hiromi wrapped an arm around your middle and curled himself around you. Stifling a yawn, you gave in to the sleep edging around your mind.

Thank you for reading!!! Comments, Likes, and Reblogs always appreciated!!! 🥰

Art cred: @amico173

[kumkaniudaku]

Stay A While (3)

Summary: Terry get's a lesson in love and shares it with Patrice.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 5,049

Part: 3 of ??

Warnings: Smut (18+)

One. Two.

"Well, James, how you been?" 

"Honestly, Pop. I don't know where to start." 

Wooden spoons banged and scraped across pots on the stove while Marvin scooped red beans and rice into a small ceramic bowl. He'd long shed his work coveralls for an open flannel shirt and khakis to spend some quality time with his only son. 

James was their shared middle name in a long line of Richmond men dating back to their family migration from New Orleans to Fayetteville in the 50s. Marvin was a proud, honorable man. He never said a bad word about anybody, and no one had a bad word to say about him. He taught Terry how to play football, make a pot of dirty rice to perfection, and the importance of ensuring a lady never touched a doorhandle in his presence. He was the reason Terry joined the Marine Corps after a career in the NFL looked unlikely. He was the reason his boy spoke softly and carried a big stick. And he was one of only two people Terry trusted with his heart. 

With two bowls and spoons on a serving tray, Marvin made his way to the kitchen table. He stopped short to get a good look at his son with blue green eyes even more captivating than Terry's. He noted the new frown lines developing on his brow and the lone grey hair sprouting in his goatee. His boy was stressed and confused. He didn't need a conversation to tell him that but welcomed it anyway. 

After sliding one bowl across the table, he took a seat with his signature grunt. "Start at the top. Plenty of time still left in the day." 

Terry quietly thanked his father for his generosity and avoided the question by eating the first bite of his meal. They ate in silence for several seconds until Terry took a deep breath. 

"I think I've been okay. More ups than downs lately, but the downs are pretty damn low. I'm having a tough time sleeping. I'm barely working. I feel like a burden for Treece more than I feel like a man who can actually do something for her." 

"Being a man is about more than what you can do." 

"Yeah, but…" Terry trailed off, trying to gather his thoughts. "It's just - things weren't supposed to be this hard. I gave this country a lot of my time, and I guess I expected to say my goodbyes and roll into my next chapter. Now, my plan b needs a plan b, and I'm out of options." 

"You're not out of options. You don't like askin' for help. Proud like your grandaddy." 

"And you too." 

Marvin chuckled and shook his head as he took another spoonful of food.  "This ain't about me."

The two men shared a laugh, their voices sounding nearly identical as they bounced off the walls. He was the spitting image of his father, both in stature and moral compass. 

"What do you need, James?" Marvin had grown serious again, making Terry avert his eyes to focus on his food. "I'll save you the stress of asking, but you gotta tell me what I need to offer. Is it money?"

"Not much. Enough to pay some bills until the end of the month, and I can have it back to you. I think I have a shot at this job on base if I can get through the second interview."

"How you getting back and forth? I know y'all do the Lyft and Ubom thing these days. Ridin' around with strangers like we didn't spend a whole decade tell y'all not to." 

Terry laughed. "It's Uber, Pop. But, no. Treece is out for the summer, so I'm…using her car when I need it. I don't wanna take advantage of her." 

"Those some of the bills you need help paying?" Marvin's question was answered with a silent head nod and eyes filled with shame. He softened his voice as he reached into his wallet for the cash he had on hand. "It's what you're supposed to do. Ain't no shame. That money is for yourself. Give me til tomorrow afternoon to have more. Five grand enough?" 

"Ah, Pop, I don-" 

"We didn't work as hard as we did for nothing. Plus, it's your college fund money we never withdrew. You're lucky your mother hasn't used it for renovations. She's been eyeing your sister's old room for an indoor she-shed or whatever the hell it's called." 

Marvin sounded exasperated by the concept of his wife's latest project, which amused Terry. They hadn't changed since the day he left. They were just two people who had been in love since the day they met and remained committed to supporting each other through the ebbs and flows of life. 

Standing from the kitchen table, Marvin shuffled around the corner to the garage entrance and returned with a ring of keys and a pile of mail. He tossed them at Terry and returned to his seat. 

"What's this?" 

"Keys to GMC outside. Take it. You might need to run it for a little bit and change the oil, but it works fine. The rest is your mail." Terry opened his mouth to protest and received a glare from his father in return. "I gave you my best speech about askin' for help, and here you go ruining things. Take the truck before I tell your mama."

"Alright, alright," Terry laughed as he raised his hands. "I love you, Pop." 

"Love you, man. I'm proud of you." Not ones for the warm fuzzies of hugs, the two extended their arms across the table for a quick fist bump before returning to their meals. Marvin let his son eat in peace for a few moments before the corner of his lips curled in a knowing smile. "So…Patrice Ellis, huh? That little love letter you wrote in 10th grade finally coming true?" 

"Pop." 

"Ah, come on. It's alright to be in love, son. She's a good girl. Got good folks, too. What's the holdup?" 

In love? The more Terry attempted to negotiate the gravity of the phrase within himself, the more he had to reckon with the idea that his father may not be that far off base.

Terry slowed his eating and looked at his father for help. "You think I'm in love?" 

"Oh, I know you are. You didn't come back to Fayetteville for me, did you?" 

"How would I know, though? How did you know?" 

Marvin stopped eating to sit back in his chair. A fond smile crossed his face as he thought of his younger years. 

"I knew I was in love when I wanted to show up every day and do the work to be with her. It didn't matter if she pissed me off or if we disagreed about decisions. At the end of every day, I can look at her and know I'm where I want to be forever. Plus, I still get a little fired up when she walks through the door all these years later. I ain't much to look at, but your mother is…" 

Marvin let his sentence drop to whistle at the mention of his wife. Terry pretended to take exception but eventually laughed at his father's antics. He quickly relaxed into a contemplative state. 

"I wanna be the best I can for her," he spoke softly. "I get…sad when she's gone for too long. Sometimes, I find myself forcing conversation just to make her look at me because the light in her eyes is the only thing keeping me grounded most days. What does that mean?" 

"You don't need me to answer that, son. Go with what you know." 

Before Terry could seek more advice, the mechanical roar of the garage door made Marvin nearly spring out of his seat to greet his one true love. 

Outside, Patrice was nearly doubled over from laughter in the front seat. 

Diedra "DeeDee" Richmond was the quintessential Southern black woman. Like a prim and proper belle, she wore her color-treated blonde hair big to match an even bigger personality.  She wore heels with every outfit and never left the house without earrings, but she could also drink and cuss like a sailor. 

When she offered Patrice the chance to tag along for her monthly Sister Circle meeting, there was no chance she'd miss the opportunity to ditch Terry and kick it with the upper crust of Black women. 

"And, girl, Rita thinks we can't tell that she took every one of those appetizers out of the damn freezer section. At least go to the Publix bakery. Finger sandwiches ain't that expensive." 

Amid their gossip session, the garage door's chime caught Dee Dee's attention, effectively ending her one-woman show in favor of giving her husband the eye. Behind him, Terry stood with a nervous smile and puppy dog eyes that he directed at Patrice. 

"Marry a Richmond, child. You'll never lift a finger for the rest of your life. Lord knows I love me some him. Hey, baby!" DeeDee advised as she watched Marvin nearly float to the driver's side to open her door. 

Patrice watched Marvin and DeeDee fawn over each other like teenage lovers until the faint pop of her door opening brought her back to life. 

Terry stood in the gap with his hand out to offer assistance. She accepted without protest, letting him gently pull her from the passenger side with her bags in tow and close the door behind her.

"I missed you." 

Terry's admission came in a sweet voice as he dipped his head to place two chaste kisses on Patrice's lips. Only the knowledge of his parents 10 feet away kept her from turning an innocent display of affection into something vulgar. 

Patrice chased his lips once he pulled away, earning a deep chuckle that vibrated her chest. 

"We kissing in front of the parents now?" 

"Too much," he asked, suddenly embarrassed. 

She used her thumb to wipe lip gloss from his bottom lip before rising to her tip toes to kiss his nose. "No. You're perfect." 

Dee Dee and Marvin watched the young couple giggle at nothing in particular with broad smiles and full hearts. 

"Treece, when's the last time you had some of my red beans and rice?" 

Marvin's question made both of them jump like children caught in the act with the realization that they weren't alone. 

"Way too long," Patrice answered, her stomach almost growling at the mention. 

"Then have dinner with us. We'd love to have you." 

Patrice looked toward Terry for confirmation, making Dee Dee cackle as she started up the stairs into her home. "Child, forget him. Terrence don't run nothing 'round here! Come get this food."

Terry's eyes grew wide at his mother's dismissal while Patrice dissolved into an uncontrollable fit of laughter at his expense on her way into the house. 

"Oh, that's funny," he asked, following her lead. "That's the last time I let y'all hang out unsupervised." 

Three extra hours at Terry's parents' house wasn't enough for the tandem to abandon their new night routine. 

Patrice stood at her bathroom sink, scrubbing the day from her face while Terry made himself comfortable on her closed toilet lid. Sometimes, he read something from Patrice's bookshelf, both preferring to simply exist in the same room. Other times, he watched baseball on his phone and attempted to provide color commentary despite Patrice not showing interest. This time, though, he sat with relaxed shoulders and low eyes while she moved through her beauty routine. 

Something about the sleepytime body wash had him laser-focused on how her legs looked a mile long beneath her nightshirt, oiled to perfection and glistening under the warm vanity lights. He wanted to reach out and touch her. Maybe pull her closer by her thighs and whisper every single nasty thought on his mind below her navel until she promised never to leave his side. 

But, he shook his inner man loose and leaned forward to re-engage with her as she called his name. 

"You know you should use a gentle exfoliant every once in a while. It'll help your breakouts. Use some of my sunscreen, too. It's dangerous for you to let the sun hit your face with no protection."

Blah, blah, blah. Everything she said sounded like a chorus of 1000 angels to him. She could've revealed the cure to cancer, and he would be too lovestruck to notice. 

Knowing his restraint was dwindling, he stood abruptly and stretched his arms above his head with a yawn as she added moisturizer to her face.

Patrice watched him take up space behind her through the mirror, shifting so he could leave something to remember him by on her shoulder and neck. 

"Good night," he spoke between kisses, the words muffled against her skin. 

"Already? It's not that late, is it?" 

"I promised Corey I'd help him with football practice at Francis tomorrow morning."

"He'll run you ragged if you don't speak up." 

"I'll speak up. I promise." 

Using what little space she had, Patrice turned to rest her backside on the counter and face Terry. She used her index finger to hook his gold herringbone chain and bring him down for a kiss. Or kisses. It'd been so long since they could have each other in this way. Time and experience, both together and separately, had them maneuvering like professionals. Each kiss was teasing and sensual in equal measure. A tangible mastery of retreating and aggression made the pursuit of one another worth the wait. 

They'd lost track of their exhibition until Terry's phone buzzing against the toilet seat jolted them back into reality.

Patrice flattened her palms against his chest to create some separation and end what would surely turn into blurred lines if they weren't careful. "Good night, TJ.  Grab that exfoliant out of my shower before you leave. It's in the caddie." 

Terry took the gentle redirection in stride, smiling at her through the mirror before turning to do as she had asked. Patrice used what little focus she could muster to secure her headscarf to her head, desperate to extend her box braids for one more week. 

"What's this?" 

"What's what?" She didn't bother to look away from her task until the low hum of her vibrator caught her attention. She whipped her body around, too stunned to reach for the bright pink toy that had Terry smirking as he examined its buttons. "That is my personal property for personal and private use." 

"When's the last time you used it?" 

"It's been a while. A month or so." Mostly true. She couldn't say she hadn't thought about it more recently.

"Since I've been here?" 

She shrugged. "Kinda hard to get comfortable when there's a person on the other side of the wall." 

The mere sound of the only thing to touch her in two years made the hair on her arms stand at attention. Her eyes darted between the toy and Terry, who made himself familiar with each speed and pattern, cycling through dirty thoughts and intrigue as he held the device against his arm to get a feel for the intensity, 

Setting one? Bearable. A softball. Setting three? Maybe she'd call out his name from the pleasure? Setting seven? Surely, she'd hang on to him like a wet t-shirt on a Playboy model while she rode the crest of her orgasm. 

The possibilities excited him to no end. He needed to test each and every theory.

In two clicks, he returned the toy to its original setting and then off completely, holding it in one hand while taking slow steps to close the gap between him and the only person on his mind. 

She shifted her weight nervously as he approached, unsure how to respond until he towered over her with a look she knew all too well. 

Desire. 

Their senses were heightened. Everything felt surreal, almost as if one misstep could send them flying through a portal back to a more disappointing reality. 

Terry could smell the faint hint of mint on Patrice's breath before dipping his head to nip at her bottom lip with his teeth. She responded like he knew she would by making him work for his prize. Patrice never let him intimidate her. Not for their first time together all those years ago, certainly not now. 

He chuckled before leaning in again, this time leaving a trail of short kisses from her jaw to her clavicle. He inhaled deeply, breathing in vanilla and the subtle spice of his cologne from moments earlier.

Suddenly, Patrice felt weightless. Her feet dangled briefly and without warning as Terry took her from standing to sitting on the cold, hard counter before she could protest. 

Patrice fought for stability, using the peaks and valleys across the expanse of his muscled arms as her anchor in the dizzying experience that was his affection. Her lips parted to draw in sharp breaths and release airy sighs of approval in a feeble attempt to remain present. At the same time, he kissed his appreciation wherever his lips saw fit. Her legs acted under their own power to spread wider and make room for whatever came next. 

Her hands left a trail of tingles as she dragged them from his arms to the back of his head, down the sides of his face, over his tank top, between his pecs, and, finally, into the waistband of his shorts. 

Surprised by her touch, he lurched forward to grab her wrist. "Not this time," he whispered, unsure he meant what he was saying. 

Patrice nodded in understanding, earning a sloppy kiss for her obedience. 

There was no discerning where his mouth ended, and hers began. They were on one accord, hungrily tasting, exploring, and consuming each other without holding back. 

Then, the low hum returned. This time, it was closer than Patrice remembered. 

Cold silicone soon caressed her inner thigh. A low whimper escaped past her lips as she made eye contact with Terry. He leaned close enough to speak against her mouth. 

"You trust me?" 

"Mhmm," she answered, fighting to keep her eyes open as he moved further up her leg. 

"Let me take care of you, then. Take these off for me." 

Trembling fingers latched onto her boyshorts, pushing them to mid-thigh for Terry to take care of the rest. As quickly as he was gone, he'd returned for another taste of her tongue. Languid and unhurried, he used the time to relax her while slowly inching the vibrator to her center. 

Initial contact made her hips buck forward, and her head softly hit the mirror behind her. Terry chased her with sloppy kisses at the base of her neck. 

The slow and steady setting was enough to get her wet and sticky. Terry'd be lying if he said the thought alone didn't have him wanting to renege on his early statement and dive in with reckless abandon. But, he remained steadfast in his pursuit of her pleasure. 

Once the initial shock had worn off, Patrice ground her hips slowly, making small circles while the vibration worked to settle her nerves. Terry took a break from leaving praises in the form of kisses on her throat to smile at his girl. 

"You're beautiful. You know that?"

She gripped his chin and pulled him closer for a fiery kiss that he let her lead. "Yeah. But, I love to hear you say it." 

"Good," he answered, grinning at her confidence as he upped the intensity on her vibrator. Her eyes clamped shut as her entire body tensed. "Stay with me." 

A deep, steadying breath turned into a silent scream as Patrice gave in to the natural urge to hold her breath. Terry used his free hand to sneak up her tank top and grope one breast while pressing his lips to her ear. 

"Breathe, baby. In and out." He modeled the behavior until she found the strength to match his tempo. "There you go. You feel good?" 

"Yes, yes," she whisper-chanted to the ceiling, her head thrown back in unimaginable euphoria. 

"I want you to feel this good every day. You deserve it, right?" 

A twisting, turning feeling at the pit of her stomach forced her to draw in a deep breath to steady herself. Her answer came in a soft moan. "Right." 

"Damn right." Pressing his forehead to hers, he zeroed in on each of her features twisted in unthinkable pleasure. 

She kept her mouth open to sigh and moan as she saw fit. Her nostrils flared in a rhythm as she tried to force herself to breathe through every peak and valley of the moment. Her brows were knitted, and her eyes closed as if she were too afraid to look at him. He wondered what she was thinking. 

Did she want him inside of her as much as he wanted the same for himself? Was she yearning for more pressure? Could she feel how much he loved her?

"Don't get quiet on me. I want everything. Let 'em hear you. You need more?" 

A quick glance down helped him reposition the vibrator on her already sensitive bud, earning a guttural curse as appreciation for his good deed. 

"Fuck! Don't move. Please don't move." 

Terry obliged for the moment, too entranced by his view of her flower on full display for his viewing pleasure. Glistening. Wet. Beautiful. Appetizing like nothing he'd ever seen before. He pulled the toy away and replaced its presence with his thumb. Slow circles and firm pressure made her want to close her legs to escape the overwhelming stimulation, but her attempt was futile. She was at his mercy. 

"Damn," he whispered to himself, enamored by the way her body reacted to his touch. 

Every revolution around her clit brought with it more wetness at her entrance and indentations in his arms from her nails gripping for dear life. 

It wasn't enough to touch her. He needed to taste. 

Using his middle and ring fingers, he teased his introduction with gentle brushes against her inner lips. She keened for more against his mouth as she held his face close. He granted her wish and pushed into her slowly, immediately feeling her warmth envelop his long digits. 

Their mouths hung open, breaths being traded between the two as he set a slow pace. Not enough to bring forth a release. Just enough for Terry to get what he came for. 

Removing his fingers left him with a coating of clear arousal nearly dripping to his knuckles. Patrice watched him as he smirked at the sight, examining it like a jeweler appraising precious diamonds. 

When he'd seen enough, he put both fingers into his mouth and closed his eyes to savor the taste. Patrice's mouth hung open as if waiting for her turn to experience the wonders of her juices. 

Had she closed her eyes for even a second, she would have missed Terry extending his tongue from his mouth to allow a mixture of his saliva and her essence the chance to slide from his tongue in anticipation of a new host. 

Something profound and hungry within her made her lean her head back and hold her tongue out to receive all that he had to give. It excited her, delighted her, and aroused her like never before.

Like a lewd work of art, spit connected their tongues in what would otherwise be seen as an infraction among more proper circles. But fuckin' wasn't proper, and all forms of affection were welcomed in their home. 

Almost immediately, Terry rushed to reward her with a wild and frenzied kiss that nearly surprised him. 

Primal. Carnal. Intense. Fucking disgusting. He loved every minute of it.

The race was on. Terry kept their lips connected as he returned the vibrator to her clit, dialing up the settings to a level below their max. 

Patrice's moans and his couldn't be distinguished from one another. Her hips bucked wildly. Her fingernails left marks in their wake as they scratched at his arms and back. Her body twitched and seized in anticipation of the inevitable. 

"Oh my - fuck!" Satisfied tears slid from the corners of her eyes and down her cheeks to her man's awaiting lips. "Terrence!" 

Terry remained locked in. A man possessed. A one-track mind focused on nothing other than completing the mission. 

The first stage of her orgasm came without a warning. Heat washed over her as if she'd stepped outside at high noon, making her skin almost unbearable to live in. Her toes curled, her voice caught in her throat despite the intense desire to release a scream from the depths of her soul into the atmosphere. 

She thanked Terry and God in Heaven for blessing her with the opportunity to touch the moon and the stars without ever leaving her home. Terry used his free hand to grip and massage her thighs, knowing that the best was yet to come. 

Patrice's voice began to climb as the main event approached. Shallow breaths gave way to loud gasps for air, which came rapidly while she did the same. She was suspended in a beautiful bliss and already sad about the prospect of coming down. 

Her lover reveled in the opportunity to see her unraveling at the seams. 

"I'll always come back to you, beautiful. No matter what, okay? Look at me." His request earned intense focus from Patrice under hooded eyes. "You're so pretty. Say it back to me. Tell me you're pretty."

"I'm so pretty!" Impending release sent all her words out in one breathless sentence. 

He smiled at her compliance. "I know you're close. Hold my hand."

Her fingers scrambled against the counter, filling the spaces between his fingers and gripping with enough force to turn her knuckles a lighter shade of brown. 

"That's my girl. I love you," was all he could manage before Patrice let out something akin to a squeal, turning his declaration into background fodder. 

Sensitive, overstimulated, and completely spent, the after-effects of her release had her panting to recover. Her ears rang with a heady feeling that could only be compared to a few puffs of homegrown bud. 

Terry held her through it all, propping her up while her body sagged against him for stability. He put aside the vibrator to run his palms up and down her legs while he showered her temple with whispered praises and sweet kisses. 

He waited until her breathing was even before gingerly pressing his forehead to hers. "You good?" 

His smirk was incredibly smug. He was proud of himself, and for good reason. She was open to giving credit where credit was due. 

"You can never leave this house without me again. I hope you're happy." 

"That's the whole point. My granny taught me some things during them summers down in New Orleans, you know?" 

"Oh, so this is some magic shit?" 

"Family business, baby. Gotta have the last name to find out." A playful glint in his eyes and a squeeze to her waist made Patrice's stomach feel butterflies that she thought would never return. Terry tapped her nose with his index finger and stepped back. "Stay put. I'll clean you up." 

Patrice scoffed. Stay put. As if she could go anywhere. As if she wanted to go anywhere.

Like the perfect gentleman, Terry was tender with his care. A warm towel to soothe sore muscles and ensure a thorough cleanup was mandatory. The extra loving was complimentary for only his favorite lady. 

"Stay with me tonight," Patrice requested as he slid her panties back up her legs. 

He shook his head and smiled while prompting her to lift her hips. "I don't know if that's a good idea, Treecey." 

"I just wanna be next to you. Nothing more." 

Terry regarded her doe-eyed plea with a small smile as he helped her off the counter. He pulled her into an embrace, fiending for one more kiss. She obliged happily until he'd had his fill. 

His hands slid from her sides to her ass for a generous squeeze before answering. 

"Okay. Whatever you want. Let me handle something real quick, and then I'll meet you there." 

Patrice accepted her victory with a silly happy dance before turning to make enough room in her bed for an extra person. Terry sent her on her way with a light tap to her ass, amused by how something as simple as sleeping next to each other was exciting for her. 

Once she was safely out of the bathroom with the door shut behind her, he finally found time to take a deep breath and compose himself. The actual test of his strength was in the next room, and he couldn't risk the trust he'd worked so hard to build. 

After adjusting his shorts, he picked up his phone and sat on the toilet lid, hoping that watching dog videos or Nationals highlights would clear his mind.

He had every intention of opening the web browser on his phone until he noticed a series of messages from an old friend.

From: McBride 

You check your mail? 

Trial against chief starts in two weeks. Gonna need you to testify to take him down

Know you said you weren’t coming back

Do it for Mike

---

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @oniccah @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @deja-r

[mattsturnioloz]

Then I lost you: Pt 5. (last pt.)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4.

Summary: Matt's career as a youtuber takes a toll on his 4 year relationship with his girlfriend, putting it on hold. Will it ever be the same again?

Warnings: angst, unresolved angst, crying, fluff!!

Pairings: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

A/N: (This is gonna be the last part, it’s gonna be sad but hope you guys will love it 🫶🏼 Also I fell asleep in the middle of writing this so forgive me if it’s not my best😖 I recommend listening to the song while reading 😚)

(Also since this part is really long I recommend just replaying the song over and over until the end of the story :) if you wanna cry☠️)

Matt’s Pov:

I drive back back home, The car silent and the negative thoughts come to my head but I quickly drown them out by playing music.

I get home and open the front door, and I go up the stairs to the living room and see Chris and Nick both laying on the couch watching some netflix show and I lay in between them, putting my head on Nicks shoulder. Somewhat needing to feel my brothers comfort.

“Are you okay?” he speaks up looking at me on his shoulder. I shake my head while staring at the tv and picking at my nails. He puts his arm around my shoulders and rests his head against mine and Chris rubs his hand up and down, on my partly exposed back and they exchange sympathetic glances at eachother.

Nick and Chris fall asleep during the show and I get bored, closely listening to the analog clock that we have above the couch, ticking, and the soft snores of Chris and Nick filling my ears.

I decide to get up and clean up around the house, doing basic chores until later in the day when it’s time to get ready. I shower quickly so that I don’t have time to think about the negatives. I grab the towel and dry myself off before going to my room.I go to my closet. The side where y/n’s clothes used to be is empty and the sight hurts. The hangers just.. hanging.

I knock out of it and I change into a plain light grey, almost white hoodie, and light blue baggy jeans with a pair of white air forces. Something casual but nice.

I’m nervous, like I was before picking her up for our first date, 5 years ago. I know where im taking her already and I can’t wait, but it’s going to bring back memories and i’m not sure that it’s a good thing right now.

I put on my Vivienne Westwood earrings and necklace to match before fixing up my hair. I hook my keys on the belt loop of my jeans and I spray cologne and deodorant before turning off my room light and heading out closing the door behind me.

I would say bye to Nick and Chris but they’re passed out on the couch so I go down to the stairs to the front door, leaving and locking the door after I walk out. I walk over to my car, getting in and I can feel my heart beating out of my chest.

I stop by a flower shop and I grab a bouquet of plumeria flowers, her favorite. The same ones I got her on our first date with all sorts of pretty colors that all go well together. They’re beautiful and vibrant, just like her.

I pay for them before I go back out my car and I get in buckling my seatbelt and I take a deep breath before I start the car and I start driving to Y/n’s house. Y/n’s house.

I break down in sobs, letting my cries out before I get to her place. I feel like I can’t breathe, gripping the wheel so tight, that my palms start to turn white.

I get there and park before putting the mirror down and making sure I look okay. I get out taking a deep breath, taking in the warm Los angeles sunset. I go over to her front door and let my fist hover over the door for a moment, my palms sweaty and I wipe them before I knock.

———- ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ———-

Y/n’s Pov:

I’m changing into a nice simple white dress, when I hear a knock on the door. Shit. I hope I look okay. I dust my dress off in the mirror while also checking if my makeup looks alright before grabbing my purse and turning off the lights. I go to the front door and open it to see Matt standing there. He looks so good.

“Hey baby..” He says with a warm smile. He looks nervous, exactly like he did on our first date. It’s radiating off of him and I feel my palms start to sweat. I see tear stains on his cheeks but i’d rather not bring it up and ruin the mood.. Instead I wrap arms around him and hug him.

I can feel my body shaking, I don’t wanna lose him. Why are we even trying? What was the point of splitting up if we were just going to act like a couple? Technically today, we still are one.

We finally let go of what will be one of our last hugs. My heart is still aching to the point where it’s starts to hurt physically. “Youre so beautiful.. you always have been..” He says in the sweetest, most gentle tone. He grabs me the waist pulling me closer, while looking me up and down in awe.

“Thank you baby..” I reply, smiling and I press a kiss to his lips. “You ready to go?” He asks. His tone almost sad. But I nod and smile in response.

This is what I was still holding on to. Moments like these. Moments like last night, and this morning. I love him. So much. I wish he would just tell me that he takes it all back. That he wants to be with me. That he wants to try again.

———- ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ———-

Matt’s Pov:

I grab her hand after she locks her door and I lead her to my car, opening the door for her. She kisses me on the way in before smiling at me. Her smile makes my heart flutter. She’s so beautiful. Everything about her is just so beautiful.

I kiss her again before shutting the door and making my way around the car and into the drivers seat. We buckle ourselves in before I start the car. The sun still setting by the minute.

I roll the windows down, the air warm and fresh, and Y/n plays music, singing along with it, and I can’t help but smile and steal a few glances at her. We stop at a red light and I reach in the backseat. She looks at me, confused and I grab the plumeria flowers, handing them to her.

She freezes and she looks up at me almost in shock. She knows. I can tell that she wants to cry but she doesn’t. She flashes me a big smile. “Thank you so much baby, I love them!” She says with the biggest smile before smelling them. “Of course, i’m glad you like them..” I say reaching over and putting my hand on her thigh, caressing it gently before just letting my thumb glide side to side.

I’m devastated that i’m losing all of this. I can’t believe I treated her the way I did. I wish I could take back everything i’ve said to hurt her. Maybe this wouldn’t be happening. If i would’ve just treated her right and gave her the love and attention that she deserves. I let my career get in the way of our relationship. Our love.

“I’m glad we’re doing this.” I say, glancing at her. “Me too, Matt. I’m really glad.” She responds. “I’m sorry.” I say, my voice cracking. Dammit, why do I keep crying. She turns her head too quick to look at me. “I’m sorry for all the things I did and said to push you away. I’m sorry I didn’t treat you better.” I swallow the lump in my throat. She takes my hand that’s still on her thigh and she kisses it.

“It’s okay Matt.. like you said, it’s for the best.. It just wasn’t working for either of us…” I nod and I want to tell her that I take it back, but I can’t. I know I can’t.

“Now let’s talk about something else to get your mind off of it yea?” she says smiling at me. How can she smile? How can she keep her composure when she’s probably more hurt than I am. I’m the one who said it won’t work. But I nod again. We talk about some more random things like our careers and future projects we might have planned and want to do.

We arrive at the restaurant and she looks at me with her jaw dropped while smiling. The same restaurant that I brought her to on our first date. “Ravioli?” She asks with a shriek, her voice crackling when she does. “Ravioli.” I nod chuckling her reaction.

I kiss her hand before unbuckling my seatbelt and I get out, making my way to the passenger side and opening the door for her, grabbing her hand to help her out. “I swear, you’re so beautiful baby.” I say closing the door before wrapping my arms around her waist pulling her closer and I kiss her.

“I could look at you for the rest of my life, and never get tired..”I mumble, against her lips before moving my kisses down to her jaw, then to her neck. She giggles at the feeling, making my heart flutter at the sound of her laugh.

I leave a small subtle hickey before pulling away and kissing her lips one more time and I grab her hand. “Let’s go.” I say, locking the car as I lead her towards the restaurant.

We go inside and I request the same table we had on the first date and thankfully, it was available. We get seated and handed our menus but we don’t bother to look inside because we both know we’re getting ravioli.

“I love that we’re recreating our first date.” She says, reaching across the table to hold my hand. “I thought you might. It feels like our first date all over again.” I smile, planting a gentle kiss against her knuckles.

The waitress comes over and we order, and not long after we get our food. We talk, eat and laugh about old times for hours, and eventually we’re the last people at the restaurant, the night coming to an end.

I pay the bill and we go quiet. Neither of us wanting the night to end. We stand up and I grab her hand leading her out the restaurant and I walk over to the trunk grabbing a blanket. “We’re going to the park too?” She smiles looking back towards the park next to the restaurant and I nod smiling.

“Gotta recreate our first date for our last.” I say placing a kiss on her temple. I lead her towards the park, the only lights being the dim street lights. I lead her to the grass, placing the blanket down and I kneel, helping her down before we both lay, looking up at the stars with her head and hand resting on my chest.

This feels right. The coldness of the night breeze making me feel peace. The mix of the stars and the streetlights, highlighting her features perfectly.

Hours pass. We talk while stargazing and eventually it’s 2 am. “I don’t want this night to end..” She’s says quietly. “Me neither baby..” I say, holding her closer.

Eventually we get up and she start to shiver so I wrap the blanket around her and hold her for a little before we stroll down the park back to my car.

I open the passenger door and let her inside before shutting the door while taking a deep breath and walking over to my side. I get in and it’s quiet. I glance at her and I can see her devastation.

I start the car and start driving towards her house. I put my hand on her thigh again, caressing it, and she grabs my hand intertwining her fingers with mine. The whole ride there silent.

When we arrive, I look over at her and she’s already looking at me with tears rolling down her cheeks at a rapid pace and she breaks down into sobs, her breath pace increasing.

To no surprise I start crying too. I get out of the car running to her side, opening the door and practically yanking her out, into a hug. Her sobs are killing me. “Listen to me Y/n.” I say lifting her head from my chest, cupping her cheeks, and wiping her tears with my thumbs.

“I’ll always be here for you, i’ll always love you so much, you’re the love of my life. No matter what, it’s always gonna be you baby.” I cry softly, pulling her head back to my chest. Her cries die down and all I hear is her occasional sniffling. “I love you, Matt..” she hiccups. “I love you too y/n.. more than life itself. I always will. Always and forever..” I say mumbling into her hair.

She pulls back and kisses me, and we make out slowly and passionately, taking our time, tears mixed in between. I give her one more soft loving kiss but eventually we part and my heart shatters into so many pieces to the point where i’m not sure that there even is one.

We let go of eachother and she makes her way towards her door and when she reaches it she looks back at me one more time. “I love you.” She says, with a teary smile. “I love you more.” I say smiling back, my own tears rolling down my face.

She watches me a little longer before turning around and unlocking her door, disappearing inside after she closes it. I take in the bittersweet moment. The love of my life is officially gone.

I take deep breaths as I walk to my door and I get in, starting the car and immediately driving away, because if I didn’t, I would be banging on her door begging her to stay with me.

———- ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ———-

Y/n’s Pov:

I feel my heart break the more that I watch his car fade into the distance through my window and after i can’t see it anymore, I walk over to my couch and plopping on it. The silence too silent, like im drowning in it.

I look at the promise ring on my finger that he gave me long ago when we hit our 2 year anniversary. Taking in the memories that came with it. Remembering every detail of that beautiful night.

I stare at the boxes of my things that are still packed and I look around, taking in the emptiness and loneliness of my new home. 5 years with the love of my life… gone.. and I miss him already.. I miss him so much and all of our memories come flooding back. But then I realize that this was goodbye.

———- ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ———-

Matt’s Pov:

As I drive further away from y/n’s house, a part of me is gone and feels like it’s been taken, but I know this was my doing. It’s all my fault. I need somewhere to go. To feel at peace. But then it hits me. The beach.

I drive to the beach, trying to drown out the painful after thoughts of losing y/n and the aching in my chest. My vision becomes blurry when soft tears fill my eyes.

I play music to try and drown out the images. The images of her smiling at me. The sound of her laughter. The sound of her crying. But it’s all too much and it doesn’t help that white ferrari by frank ocean starts playing.

When I get to the beach I park and pause. As if time stopped and I take in the sight, the memories flooding back all at once.

———- ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ———-

Flashback:

“Where are you taking me?” Y/n giggles, as my hands are covering her eyes. “Be patient my love, you’ll see..” I say placing a kiss on her temple. I lead her to the spot at the beach and I uncover her eyes.

A whole picnic set up for us with blankets, pillows, her favorite snacks and board games. “Oh my god..” She says looking back at me with her jaw dropped and she jumps into my arms and I catch her, holding her up by her thighs, kissing her face repeatedly.

Her skin is soft and her hair is flowing with the night breeze making her look more beautiful than ever. The city lights reflecting on her face, highlighting her beautiful features.

I put her down giving her a kiss and I pull her down onto the blankets and pillows. “I have one more surprise for you my love..” I say, brushing her hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear.

“Another one? Baby you didn’t have to-“ She says. “Shush, you deserve it and so much more.” I say cutting her off and pulling out a ring. “It’s a promise ring.”

She smiles and her eyes well up with tears. “Matt that’s so sweet oh my goodness..” She says trying to hold back her tears. I pause and take a deep breath before speaking.

“Y/n I promise to always be here for you, to be the one who cherishes your love. I promise to be faithful and to be the man that you deserve.” I say, sliding the ring on her ring finger. “I promise to be the woman you deserve too baby.. I promise i’ll always love you..” she says hugging me.

After that she lays in my lap, her upper back against my chest and her head against the crook of my neck as I hold her. We watch the stars and stare out into the darkness of the ocean, the city lights reflecting onto the water. The night is perfect and so is she.

I turn her face towards me and I gently kiss her lips. “I love you Y/n..” I say with a smile. “I love you more baby..”

———- ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ———-

I walk towards where the sea meets the land and I sit in the very spot from that night, I breathe and take in the night air. The waves crash gently against the shore, a soothing rhythm that once matched the beat of our hearts.

I sat at the edge of the ocean, the place where we made our promises. The night sky seems endless, but it only reminds me of the distance between us now. Every memory we shared flashed before my eyes, each one more vivid than the last. The laughter, the tears, the promises we made.. they all feel so close, yet so far away.

In that moment, I realize that everything we had was slipping through my fingers like sand and I regret everything I said that pushed you away, I just want you back.

The echoes of our last conversation lingered in the air, haunting me with every breath I take. The place we once cherished now feels empty, a different contrast to the warmth you brought into my life.

The sky darkened, identical to the darkness I now feel in my life. The gentle breeze that once brought your laughter now carried only silence.

I sat there, hoping for a miracle, a sign that you might come back. A sign that this wasn't the end. I could only hope that we’d find each other again when the time was right.. but for now, I whispered your name one last time, knowing deep down that this was goodbye, and just like that you were gone.

Then I lost you.

———- ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ———-

3,086 words.

A/N: (Ahhh my first series is finally finished!! I’m so devastated, and i’m as we speak. Thank you all for the support and I really hope you guys love this last part :) thank you 🫶🏼)

Taglist: @urmom69lol @imwetforyourmom @tsturniolo4 @watercolorskyy @starzinasblog @urfavstromboli @sturniqloo @star-yawnznn @h3arts4harry @asherrisrandom

[sungstars]

love game | kjw x fem! reader

synopsis: you and your boyfriend love playing an interesting game at parties, but he couldn't let you win.

word count: 1.4k (not proof read sawri)

content warning: established relationships, infidelity(sort of), yn is a bit unhinged(you'll see), jungwon is down bad and also unhinged, fingering, idols added for world building, dom/sub dynamics, mentions of edging

author’s note: i wrote this based off of this request! this was heavily inspired by the beginning of season 3's chuck & blair's relationship in gossip girl. i hope that you all enjoy and again, requests are open! i really tried my best on this without making it too long.

"have you seen jungwon anywhere?" you exhaled, already irritable that your boyfriend left you pretty much as the two of you got to this house party you didn't even want to attend, shooting a glare the boy in front of you, jake.

jake looked around nervously, obviously trying to come up with a lie to cover for his best friend that wasn't obvious.

that's the thing you didn't understand, how men could think that you were dumb enough to believe they didn't know anything. you always knew, you were just giving him the opportunity to answer honestly.

"he. . ." jake began, looking down at his cup, "look, i don't know. go ask sunoo or something."

you rolled your eyes, brushing past jake but not before hitting the bottom of his cup to make it spill all over him, “oops. go ask sunoo to help you clean that up.”

you’re pretty sure you heard jake call you a bitch under his breath, but you didn’t have the patience to go back and forth with him. not today.

there weren’t many places that your boyfriend could’ve ventured off too, so you decided to start downstairs.

as you descended down the stairs, you noticed that there were people gathered in a circle with an empty soju bottle in the middle.

spin the bottle? how high school. you thought to yourself, but if jungwon was down here, you knew he probably encouraged the idea.

scanning the room, you didn't see your boyfriend, but your eyes landed on a particular raven haired boy who you knew couldn't keep his mouth shut if his life depended on it.

you plastered on your sweetest smile as you sauntered over to him, making sure to pull your v-cut sweater down even more.

"hi sunghoon," you purred, eyeing him up and down, "i feel like i haven't seen you in so long. what have you been up to?”

the boy’s eyes scanned you as well, stopping to look at your cleavage before finding your eyes, “oh hi y/n, has been a while hm.. still with that boyfriend of yours?”

god he wasted no time, did he? you wrapped an arm around his bicep, looking up with the best blowjob eyes you could give, “mm jungwon? we are kind of. . . in a rough patch. why? did he say something?”

“not at all,” sunghoon gave it no thought before wrapping an arm around your waist to feel your boobs press against his side, “though. . . i did see him play spin the bottle with everyone and go into a room with that girl. . . what’s her name? jaehee! that’s it.”

you innocently tilted your head to the side, a pout forming on your glossy lips, “mm. how long have they been in there?”

sunghoon pondered for a second before looking down at you once more, “they should be out any. . .”

his sentence was cut off by the closet door slamming open and hitting the wall behind it. your boyfriend, jungwon stepped out of it with disheveled hair and his sweater now wrinkled.

his eyes scanned the room before landing on you wrapped in sunghoon’s arms, lips quivering up in a smirk before turning back to jaehee.

“—second.” he said, his arm immediately dropping from your waist and downing whatever was left in his cup, “i should probably get back to the party. good seeing you though.”

unfortunately for you, sunghoon began to catch on to this pattern between you and jungwon a while ago. and as hot as you were, he didn’t want part of it—at least to jungwon’s knowledge.

you sauntered up to the pair, a mean look plastered across your features as you stepped in front of them. jaehee froze in spot, eyes growing as big as saucers and looking over to jungwon.

“spin the bottle?” you ask, scoffing as you gave jaehee a once over, “with her?”

jungwon chuckled, pulling jaehee closer to him, “c’mon. like you weren’t over there feeling up sunghoon. ‘oh sunghoon, you are so strong. please put me in a headlock.’” he squealed in a high pitch voice to mock you.

“jaehee,” you turned your attention back to the girl who felt like she would turn to stone if she looked into your cold eyes, “you know jungwon has a girlfriend, yes?”

jaehee shifted away from jungwon’s grip if it was searing hot, eyes planted on the floor, “well. . . he told me that you two were on a break and it didn’t um. . . he didn’t care so why should i? he wasn’t going to mention it and i wouldn’t either. . . if i had known i would’ve—.”

“wouldve what?” you cut her off, stepping closer to her and forcing her chin up with your index finger, “told me you groped my boyfriend for 7 minutes because everyone encouraged you to go into the closet with my boyfriend? c’mon jaehee, i wasnt born yesterday. i always know. tsk. . . such a shame. a pretty and smart girl like you garnishing a reputation as a boyfriend stealer.”

the girl’s eyes filled with panic and tears threatened to spill over, “n-no. . . i’m sorry y/n. please, forgive me.”

you dropped your hand from her chin, rolling your eyes at her and taking a step back, “because i’m not entirely a cold hearted bitch, i accept your apology. i’ll act like this never happened and you won’t mention it again. everyone in that circle is probably too drunk to remember this anyway, and if they mention it, you best act like you don’t know who jungwon is.”

she nodded quickly, you would think her neck would’ve snapped off as she scurried up the stairs and as far away from the two of you as possible.

you turned your attention to your boyfriend who was looking at you in disbelief, “you are so fucked up, y/n.”

shrugging your shoulders, you grabbed him by his wrist and pulled him into the exact room he left with jaehee.

as soon as the door was closed and locked, your back was pressed against it and jungwon’s mouth was on yours.

you pushed your tongue in his mouth, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck as he pulled your leg up and over his hip so he could press himself into you.

that’s what you really loved about jungwon, he got hard over any physical contact between the two of you.

he was so attracted to you, it took nothing to get him to submit most of the time.

his hand snuck it's way under your skirt, fingers pushing your panties to the side, "it's sick how wet you get from this."

you let out a moan when his fingers came into contact with your clit, rubbing it in figure eights, "it's sick how much you enjoy doing this."

jungwon chuckled, attaching his lips back to yours as he continued rubbing you, "mmh, but that's what makes this game so fun. it's the same routine, no wondering what will happen next except how you'll scar whatever girl fell into my trap."

your lips carved into a frown, grabbing his hand to stop his movements on your cunt, "excuse me?"

"it's not an insult," he quickly added, "but it'll be the same. i'll finger you, you'll go down on me but won't let me finish until you cum at least twice, and then i fuck you and we're done."

as true as this was. . . you didn't like that he was basically mocking you. jungwon and you did have the same routine every time you played this twisted game, but that doesn't mean he had to say it out loud and ruin the fuck.

"hm," you simply said, dropping his hand from your grip, "continue."

"i'm not trying to insult you," he whispered against the shell of your ear as he slid two fingers into you, groaning at how they sucked him in, "i'm sorry if i did."

"it's fine," you bit out, trying to focus on how his skilled fingers moved in and out of you, "but you're wrong."

the way jungwon curled his fingers inside of you had you see stars, and almost change your mind about what you were about to say.

"wrong about what?" jungwon pressed his palm against you, giving your clit the pressure you needed, cunt clenching around his hands desperately.

a squeal escaped you as you felt yourself reach your peak, gripping his shoulders tightly as you rode this high out, "'m gonna make you cum until you're crying and begging me to have mercy on you."

jungwon removed his fingers from your panties, adjusting your skirt before bringing his hand to your lips, "suck."

you grabbed his wrist, moving his hand to his face, "no, you suck, and just for that, another orgasm added to this list, fuckin' brat."

oh it was going to be a long night.

end!

[ckret2]

I honestly think that Ford is the only character in Gravity Falls that don't have moments of cruelty and unkindness... He's my favorite character because he's the one who is most near to perfection, in contrast to Stanley, who is the character most near to imperfection.

I think you can make some cases for a couple of moments—like, you could easily make a case for "standing by doing nothing while Stan was kicked out" being pretty damn cruel—but you could also just as easily make a counter argument that it wasn't really because it was Filbrick doing the kicking out and it's possible Ford was too scared to speak up and maybe he thought Stan would be fine since he'd already made globe-traveling plans and maybe at that moment he really believed that if Stan stayed at home he'd keep trying to sabotage Ford's future etc etc—like, everything he does that's Not Nice, how Not Nice it is depends on which literary analysis lens you choose to peer at the event through.

Part of this could well be due to the fact that he only got five and a half episodes; but I think the truest thing you can say about his character is that we don't see him act out of spite the way other characters do. Like, if Gideon had stolen Ford's perfect pool chair, he absolutely would have shown up at the pool in the middle of the night to claim the chair for the next morning, but he wouldn't have tried to blind Gideon with his wristwatch. If his nemesis had challenged him to mini-golf, I doubt he'd have conspired with the Liliputtians to cheat. If he was stuck in the house with an annoying pig he'd PROMISED not to put outside, he'd be more likely to storm outside in a huff and leave the pig in the house than he would be to break his promise and put the pig outside.

When Stan or Dipper want to be king of the hill, they're quick to turn to dragging their competition down; but when Ford wants to be king of the hill he tries to climb twice as fast as his competition. I feel like playing dirty to drag his competition down wouldn't even occur to Ford unless it's an "if I lose, somebody dies" situation. Winning by cheating would make him feel like he hasn't really won.

[local-hellhound-steals-spaghetti]

thank you for posting about moo deng's treatment compared to fiona's. My friends love moo deng and i have only seen a couple pictures of her, so i thought they were funny in the same way a smear frame was funny: an awkward snapshot in the middle of moo deng playing or yawning. I never looked into it further than fanart or memes because well i didn't think to. your post made me realize there is always more to learn, as an aspiring naturalist, thank you.

Thank you for telling me this, it helps me feel better about posting it. She's a really cute little baby, I certainly don't doubt that! But I just hope they will just be more hands off with her in the future and leave her alone.

If they want to train voluntary husbandry behaviours and do proper desensisation that would be great. I'm so tired of seeing people say that they have to harass her because it helps her get ready for veterinary procedures...

If anything they're making vet procedures even more negative and stressful because so many interactions with humans have been her being disturbed while she's sleeping or eating, chased by them, smacked by them or just poked and prodded until she bites them.

I just hope people will use (1) crumb of common sense when they see that attempt at an explanation and learn what actual conditioning to handling looks like.

[hiiikiko]

001: ‘She’s in a band’

TW: Light smut, Ellie being a jerk tbh. (Not proofread bc I took my meds and I’m feeling lazy :P)

Moving to Seattle wasn’t your first choice, I mean, you were perfectly happy in Arizona. You had friends, family, and most importantly, a band but some drama happened and you wanted to get away from it all. Your first choice was going to California but you had no money, no stable job, and no place to crash so, you reluctantly went to Seattle. At least you’d be closer to the music scene and you haven’t seen your favourite cousin in awhile..

Gazing out the window as the amtrak came to a halt you see Jesse sitting on a bench, legs obnoxiously sprawled out and a toothpick hanging on his lips.

“Can take the boy outta the country but can’t take the country outta the boy,” you chuckle as you gather your luggage and make your way off the bus

“Hey, y/n/n,” Jesse drawls, grabbing your luggage with ease and slinging his arm around you.

“Ugh, get off me you reek of axe and cigarettes,” you tease with a smile playing on your lips as Jesse ruffles your hair and throws your things into the back of his truck.

Jesse’s place was a lot nicer than you though, I guess being a welder does pay off. It was a little messy and could use a homey touch but it was rather nice but you would never admit that to him. Your room was nice too, a little small, but had a great view and even had access to the balcony. The room was bare, plain white walls with a red brick wall on one side, a bed and one singular lamp sitting in the middle of the room.

You settle in while Jesse rifles through your things and rants about his current situationship, “She’s just insane like who asks for your credit score on the first date? Don’t get me wrong, my credit score is so good that it would make ANY girls parties drop.”

You scrunch your nose and throw a hoodie at him as he continues “Hey, I’m just say—“ he begins before hes abruptly interrupted by a call, “Yeah?.. right now?… Alright, alright, alright… on my way, doll.”

“Hmmm, I wonder who that could be,” sarcasm practically oozes off your words.

“It’s Dina,” Jesse winks as he rushes to put his boots on, “Don’t expect me to come back tonight,” he winks.

“Oh, come on,” you trail after him, “It’s my first night! Can’t you stay? We can, like, get dinner and maybe go to a bar?”

‘Nah, I’d rather get laid than hang out with my dorky little cousin,” He says, the door cutting off his voice.

Asshole.

And that’s how you find yourself all alone, sitting at a bar and cheering on the local bands when two girls sit next to you. The girl with short hair remarks, “Those guys were so ass, ‘The Serpahites?’ What the fuck kinda name is that,” her friend laugh at her joke.

“Sounds like a cult,” you mutter under your breath, not meaning for them to hear you but the girl with auburn hair laughs, “Ah, sorry, didn’t mean to eavesdrop—“ you begin but are quickly interrupted by the girl resting a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s okay, dude,” a soft smile on her lips.

Fuck, she’s so cute. The way the dim bar lights dance over her facial features and the way her short hair falls softly over her green eyes. She was wearing a flannel but you could tell she had one hell of a body.

“Sorry,” you say again.

“It’s all good,” she smirks, crap, did she notice the way you were staring?

As you’re debating on whether or not you should call it a night or get on your knees and start apologizing profusely for ever thinking lewd thoughts in the presence of an angel, she gets up, grabbing her friends hand and heads into the back.

Crap, I should’ve asked for her number..

Just as you take another sip from the fruity drink you ordered, you hear the announcer introduce another band called “the Infected.” Sounds pretty cool, you think as you get up from your seat and make your way into the crowd of people.

Must be a popular band.

The curtains are pulled back to reveal the girl you met at the bar earlier, she’s taken off her flannel and is now wearing a form fitting black tank top, low rise jeans, and a pair of worn converse, on her shoulder rests a beautiful black guitar littered with stickers of stars and planets, cute. Along side her is a girl with piercings, long black hair, looks like the lead singer, and oh. my. god. IS THAT JESSE?? He’s no longer wearing a flannel but a plain black tee, denim jeans, and of course, his boots, he’s on drums.

“Jesse!” you cheer as his head whips around and shoots daggers at you, you’ll never let him live this down.

The band plays a wonderful set and gets a lot of cheers from the crowd. Some fans, mostly girls, approach the band afterwards to gush over them, the girl with the auburn hair seems to have the most fans.

You make your way towards the stage to find Jesse, hoping to tease him about what you just witnessed.

“He’s in the back changing,” a voice rasps from behind. “Ah, I see,” turning around, you see the bassist towering over you.

“Heyyy, I know you, we met at the bar, yeah?” She says while looking you up and down.

“Yeah, at the bar,” you manage to get out.

“You’re Jesse’s cousin? Huh, didn’t know you were coming out tonight, if I had known, I would’ve put on a better show,” she smirks as a light blush sweeps over your face. How could such a small comment illicit this small reaction from you? Maybe it was the way she said it, her voice raspy from singing on backup.

“That show was really great, I enjoyed it a lot. Seems like y’all are popular,” you glance over at a small crowd of girls shooting glares in your direction for talking to their bassist.

The auburnette chuckles and glances back, winking at the girls, “Yeah, we got a few.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes at the faux humility, unfortunately, she catches this.

“What was that?” She laughs, studying your face.

“I can tell already, you’re such a cliche, right? I bet you sleep with all your little fangirls, give them the night of their lives then leave them in the dust, right? Just so you can feed your ego and make yourself feel better for whatever attachment issues you got going on.”

She looks awestricken. You knew her type all too well, I mean you were in a band and you’ve encountered A LOT of band mates are like that. Hell, even rock’s beloved dad, Dave Grohl, did something similar.

“Touché,” she smirks and leans up against the stage, her green eyes hungrily taking you in, “You’re interesting, let me buy you a drink.”

About half an hour later, you’re in the back of her van, panting with her lips on your neck and her knee pressing up against your aching cunt. She’s whispering sweet things into your ear which causes your hips to involuntarily buck up against her hand.

“So fuckin’ needy f’me, aren’t ya?” She mumbles against your neck, “All that talk just for you to melt into my touch,” you can feel her smirking against your neck.

“Shut up,” you say, barely getting it out through desperate whimpers and pants.

The next morning, you wake up in her apartment, alone and half naked, only wearing your panties and a shirt you didn’t recognize. You groan as you stumble out of bed, this hangover might actually be the death of you. You make your way over to the kitchen for some water only to find a sticky note next to some tylenol and water, it reads ‘Don’t forget to lock the door on your way out.’

What the actual fuck. Not even a good morning or at least a hi?

You crumple up the note, leaving it on the counter to hopefully get the message across.

“Typical bassist,” you mutter before leaving.

Later that evening, you facetime your friend, Lila.

“So… she basically told you to get out? What the fuck! You should’ve totally wrecked everything, stolen her shampoos, bleach wash her clothes, pour glitter all ov—“

Laughing you say, “Okay, okay, Lils, I get it but seriously? Glitter is going a little too far.”

“Not far enough, I’d say,” she mutters, “So…. was it good, at least?

“Good? It was total ecstasy but I mean, that’s to be expected.”

Lila cocks her head to the side, obviously confused, “Wha?”

“She’s in a band, meaning, she obviously has a lot of experience.”

“SHE’S IN A BAND???????” Lila’s eyes are practically bulging out of her head, “Wait, nah, girl, this is all on you. Rule number one, never sleep with a girl in a band, they will totally ruin your life. They’re good at giving head because they have to hide how evil they are somehow.”

You groan, “Ugh, I know., I know!” but your mind goes back to last night, the sight of her between your legs, the feeling of her hot breath against your ear, the sight of her on top with your legs draped over her shoulders, the way—

Fuck.

(A/n: This is my first fic since I was like 16 so be nice lol next one will be better, I promise, I just really suck at writing intros)

[miaoua3]

hii !! i'd like to request for "sitting in between wonu's thighs while he stimulates ur clit as u lay back on his chest" thank you <3

hii! sure, i hope you enjoy this!

Wonwoo, The Menace

Pairing: bf! wonwoo x f! reader

Genre: smut….just…smut

Description: wonwoo gets in one of his moods again, you end up being on the receiving end of it (not that you complain (well kind of))

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

so, here’s the thing. wonwoo, your beautiful and sweet boyfriend, was usually nothing more than perfect, always so sweet and caring to you. on any other day, you would describe him as nothing more than as an angel.

on any other day. but not today.

see, wonwoo sometimes gets into these…moods, where without any explanation whatsoever decides to make it mission to make you suffer (well not really but also kind of).

and he usually decides to do it by teasing you for hours to no end with the help of your little pink vibrator.

about an hour ago, wonwoo randomly pulled you with him to your bedroom, kissing you like he hasn’t tasted you in years, hands groping your ass and tits like his life depended on it.

gradually, his pace slowed down, the closer you two got to the bed. once the back of his knees hit the bed, he broke off the kiss in order to slowly lower himself down on it, keeping up with the eye contact, as well as letting his hands slowly slide down from your back all the way down to your thighs.

and his eyes? if eyes could talk his would say “i am going to have so much fun with making you scream and moan my name all night long."

the thought sent shivers down your spine.

ever so slowly, he moved himself so he was sitting in the middle of the bed with his back against the board of it.

with dark eyes looking at you, he patted one of his thick thighs that were now spread.

“strip and sit.”

that was an hour ago. an hour of agonising pleasure and hundreds of tears rolling down your cheeks, your hands holding onto his arms tightly, his dirty mouth whispering profanities and encouraging words all in the same breath in your ear from behind.

you have already orgasmed two times already, simply from him holding the little vibrator to your clit while his other indecisive hand restlessly went from playing with your nipples to playing with the entrance of your pussy.

something about the whole thing- him being fully clothed while you were completely naked, letting yourself be at his mercy, following all of his instructions to the t, him going from “oh, you want my fingers? does my little princess want my fingers inside her hungry little pussy? hm? beg for it then.” to “such a good girl, keeping her hands to herself. cum for me, make a mess for me.” all in the same breath.

something about everything was so hot to you, which made your pleasure increase by the suspense of hopefully finally having him fuck you.

wonwoo was currently working on the orgasm number 3 from you, his lips brushing your ear as he’s whispering naughty words into it, his hand gently resting against the base of your neck while his other hand is holding the little toy to your clit.

you can feel your legs shaking against his own, you can also feel your hands holding onto his wrists tightly, as well as the tears continuously falling from your eyes and sobs mixed with moans break out of you.

you can feel all this, and yet your mind is thousand of miles away, floating away from you that you’re not entirely aware of all your actions. the only thing that you can focus on is wonwoo’s firm chest against your back and the pleasure his hand is currently bringing to you.

trying to stop your legs from shaking so much, wonwoo reaches with his free hand to hold your thigh in place. focusing on his veiny hand squeezing your leg, you hear your lover murmur "fuck, you're shaking so much-does it feel good? hm? is my baby feeling so good that she can't control herself? fuck it- i want you to cum on my fingers" he decides on quickly.

turning the vibrator off, he throws it to the side before he starts rubbing your clit with the two of his fingers quickly, his mouth nibbling and sucking on the skin of your neck as you rapidly approach your end.

before you can even warn him, you feel yourself cumming, your moans filling the otherwise quiet room. you seemingly black out due to the immense pleasure, so much so that you aren't even aware that you just squirted all over your bedsheets.

with your head resting against wonwoo's chest, it takes you a few moments to come back to yourself. it is only then that you notice both the wetness of the sheets beneath you, as well as how quiet your boyfriend has gone, you slowly turn your head upwards to him, your cheeks burning in embarrassment.

wonwoo's eyes are solely focused on your quivering legs and the wetness of the sheets, his pupils fully blown, making them look almost black.

unconsciously, you tighten the hold of your hand on his arm that wrapped itself around your chest as you were orgasming to keep you in place.

finally breaking out of his trance at your movement, he slowly moves his focus from between your legs to your eyes. in a blink of an eye, his hand moves from resting on your chest to grasping your jaw, tilting your head more to the back before he kisses you, his tongue entering your mouth with no manners at all, battling for its dominance against your own.

breaking the kiss briefly, he utters "fuck, that was so hot." before going back to kissing you again, only to interrupt himself again. "need you to do that again, around my cock."

gasping, you ask him "again?"

he pecks your lips gently once, twice, before he looks at you with lustful eyes.

"what, you didn't think i was done with you baby, did you?"

and the little sinister smirk told you that

he wasn't going to let you out of his arms the entire night.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

hope this is okay, i know it’s a bit short but that’s because i have 16 MORE REQUESTS TO ANSWER BLODDY HELL and also because i wrote this with shaky hands due to drinking coffee first thing in the morning😭 anyway love ya🫶

[toiletclown]

breathless. (part six. finale.)

spencer agnew x gn!reader

more fluff :,)

summary: six months after you decide to make it official, you both decide now is the time to start dropping hints.

a/n: this one was going to be part six and seven but i couldn't bare to drag it out much longer!! she's done! :D [ more serious a/n at the end ]

word count: 3187

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Six months later

It had been six months of bliss, and you were happy to report to anyone who asked that there was no end in sight. You and Spencer weren’t going to have a ‘honeymoon phase’, because you were so blatantly in love with each other it just wasn’t going to end. There was no getting complacent, no getting bored. You loved it. 

However, you both agreed that it was time to start being little shits on camera and on social media. Ian and Anthony didn’t care, because realistically what you did on social media was never a big deal to them. You were both freelancing anyway, technically speaking. On camera, they just asked that you didn’t rile the fans up too, too much. 

Amanda was on vacation, and Shayne asked if you both wanted to be the special guests on an upcoming Smosh Mouth while she was out. This was the perfect start to your plan.

“Hello, I’m Shayne and welcome back to Smosh Mouth. Today I have two of the most troublesome Smosh members with me, since Amanda is still on vacation. How are you doing today, guys?” Shayne introduced the both of you.

“Troublesome? I don’t know about all that, Shayne. I’m doing good, though! How are you, Shayne?” You started.

“Yeah –” Spencer began, but you cut him off.

“No, I didn’t ask you, I asked Shayne. You can wait your turn, Spence.” Your feet were touching under the table, a silent game of footsie like you were in middle school again. And if it was making your heart and stomach do flips so loudly you thought it would catch on the mic, that’s for you to know and the fans to eventually find out. 

“Damn, Y/N,” Shayne said between laughs. Spencer was playing along with your bit and waiting his turn, so Shayne continued on. “I’m doing pretty good today, Y/N. I must say, you’ve trained Spencer so well. He never listens when we tell him to shut up.”

“Hey!” Spencer erupted into laughter, so of course you followed.

“He’s a good boy, isn’t he?” You said, ruffling his hair and making it arguably sexier.

“Don’t.” He choked out, but he was still playing footsie with you. You still knew you were getting in trouble for that one later.

“Okay, so, how are you, Spinner?” You asked, head cocked to the side.

He was blushing beautifully, and you really, really hoped that was picking up on camera. You loved making him blush, but seeing it on camera always made it even better. You might even have a few screen recordings in your hidden folder of times you made him blush on set. But he doesn’t need to know that. (He has a similar folder, but not even hidden. You’ve seen it several times. It has over 100 clips in it.)

“Well, I’m –” You cut him off again.

“Oh, Shayne, you said you wanted to do album tier lists today, right?”

“Y/N!” Spencer whined, not entirely on purpose.

“Yeah?”

“Can I talk please?” He asked, left hand reaching for your right under the table, his way of silently asking you to pull back.

“Sure, Spin. Go off, king, speak your truth.” You smiled widely at him, knowing what he was going to say.

He rolled his eyes at you, lovingly, and let your hand go so he could gesture while he spoke. “Anyway! I’m doing good today too, Shayne. I got some pretty sick news this weekend.”

You played up your surprise for the camera. Eyes wide, you asked, “Oh?” 

Shayne also knew, because of course he did, but you let him ask anyway, “Yeah? What’s up, man?”

“I finally found a bigger apartment and I’ll be moving in in about a month,” Spencer started, “It’s closer to the office and right around the corner from one of my favorite coffee shops. I’m pretty stoked, honestly.”

That was your favorite coffee shop first, but now he loved it just as much as you did. Mainly because you took him there on one of your first dates, and now he insisted on getting coffee there at least once a week.

In his defense, their lattes were incredible. And their cinnamon buns.

“Oh, sick, dude! More room for your cats, too.” Shayne knew that you were also moving in, hence the ‘bigger apartment’, but you and Spencer both agreed that should be kept under wraps for now. You were giving the fans little crumbs of the gigantic sourdough loaf that was your love.

“Yeah, they’re more excited than I am! Oh, ouch,” Spencer yelped at the end, and forced himself to cover up the fact that you had just playfully kicked his shin. Little shit, I didn’t even kick him that hard.

“Sorry, I kicked the table by accident, which is genuinely the first time that has ever happened.”

Shayne was doing his best to hide his giggles, but he was failing massively. “How many times have you sat at this table, Spencer? That’s crazy, I have never done that.”

You were so thankful Shayne loves to ‘yes, and’ shit because he was making this so much easier. And funnier.

Spencer tried to glare at him, but he was laughing too, so he looked entirely unserious. “I do not know how I managed to do that, to be quite honest.”

“Album tier list though?” You asked, excited to talk about music.

You and Spencer had extremely similar tastes, but Shayne was still ‘discovering music’ so he didn’t know a few of the albums you mentioned. Spencer agreed with all of your choices but one. You ranked the Blue Album by Weezer at an A tier instead of an S (which was done simply to rile him up, and it worked). 

After you had all gone through your little TierMaker lists and agreed upon the ending rankings (yes, you moved the Blue Album to S), Spencer decided to throw a wrench in everyone’s plans.

“Oh, Peach, when we get back to the apartment we have to call maintenance again,” He said casually, while you were supposed to be getting ready for the next segment. “Shit, can you make sure someone cuts that?” He turned to Alex, who gave back a thumbs up.

“Wait, no, keep it in. Cut this though,” you laughed, deciding to play into it, “If we keep it in, they’ll all assume we have a place together. Then we can go to Twitter to ‘clarify’ that I was just coming to your place to work on a Games video. Give them crumbs, yes, but we can maybe drop a crouton here and there.” You smiled, proud of your improv skills showing their face.

“You two are diabolical, the actual reveal is going to be April First all over again,” Shayne said, a genuine smile on his face.

You returned it tenfold, so lucky to have such loving and supportive coworkers who doubled as friends. “I don’t think we will ever reach April First heights, but I appreciate the enthusiasm.” 

Spencer sat up, suddenly locked in, “Wait, Alex?” 

“Yeah?” They called from behind the monitors.

“Cut that, but keep the footage. We can use it later. You can just send it to me after?”

“I’ll let Rock know!” Alex replied, excitement in their voice.

“Demons, both of you!” Shayne was in a fit of laughter, again. It felt so good being able to make your friends smile so easily.

//

The next week, the Smosh Mouth episode drops. Normally there’s a two-to-three week turnaround for the SmoshCast videos, but since you and Spencer had begun dropping hints in videos, the viewership on videos with both of you in it had skyrocketed. You were both thoroughly surprised (and pleased) that your plan was going so well.

You both had a notes app check-list in your phone of silly bits to pull. So far, you had checked off: hugging more than three times in one video (Challenge Pit); you blowing Spencer a kiss (TNTL); Spencer blowing you a kiss (background of a Bit City ad-sketch); the entire Smosh Mouth episode, basically; shadow boxing, then pretending you were going to make out (Bit City); more romantic compliments, even more romantic bullying (Dread, Smosh Mouth, Culinary Crimes). 

Next up, a Twitter crumb.

Once the link to the episode was tweeted, Spencer quote tweeted it: “y/n thinks their the coolest person ever”

He deleted, then tried again: “y/n thinks they're the coolest person ever”

And then, you simply tweeted a screenshot of the lyrics to Slim Pickins by Sabrina Carpenter: “This boy doesn't even know the difference between there, their, and they are.” 

This was perfect, because in a matter of moments everyone was talking about the next line of that song. “Yet he’s naked in my room.”

//

After the Twitter Crumb, you both decided to slow down on the hints. This backfired, however, when everyone then thought you were fighting. You went back to being mostly normal, which was still physical and affectionate, but now the fans were so used to the new levels of it that they went 0 to 60 on “oh my god are y/n and spencer fighting what happened btwn them :(“

Angela stopped you at lunch to let you know. You were halfway through a burrito bowl, sad to have to stop. “Hey, Y/N? Have you looked at the comments on videos lately?”

You wiped your mouth and made sure you were finished chewing before responding, which took longer than you wanted it to. You had just taken a fairly large bite when she rounded the corner. “No, why? Is everything okay?”

“Well, everyone thinks you and Spence are fighting,” she snickered, sitting down and taking a sip of her drink.

“Fighting? Why, because I’m not calling him a good boy on camera anymore?” You laughed, then lowered your voice, “He won't let me anyway, he said he got ‘dangerously’ hard.”

Angela choked a bit at that, fully used to you and Spencer being overly vulgar, but not in regards to each other.

“Oh! Okay! Well, I’m gonna go find Chanse so I can throw up with him about that! Bye!” And she was gone.

“It’s the truth,” you whispered to no one, before getting back to your food.

//

After a month of going back to ‘normal’ you decided to stop torturing everyone. You decided since the last Sabrina stunt sent fans into a tizzy, you posted a photo of you and Spencer building legos together. Then two hours later, you posted ‘Juno’ to your story, specifically the part where she sings “Adore me / hold me and explore me / I’m so fucking horny / Tell me I’m the only, only, only, only one”.

Yeah, that did the trick. Ian and Anthony did give you a light reprimanding for that one, considering the firestorm that happened on Twitter, Reddit, and your Instagram comments. Whoops?

You decided to talk to Spencer afterwards, to see what his timeline on this was. If you were being honest, you were ready to kill the charade at this point. For one thing, your one year anniversary was five months away, and you weren’t sure you could even last that long. But also, while Spencer was definitely enjoying the game you two had built, he had never wanted to hide you. And maybe that was an enticing concept.

“Hey, baby?” You called, tapping your boyfriend on the shoulder. 

“Hey, honey, what's up?” He slid his headphones off and grabbed your hand. Some things never change, huh?

You kissed his forehead, grabbing a chair and sitting with him. “I was wondering. It’s still a little far away, if I’m being honest, but our one year anniversary is soon. Did you want to maybe do the reveal that day?”

He was blushing again, and you would never get tired of that. He was still blushing at you like he was two, four, six, eight years ago. “I think I’d like that.”

“Okay! I love you so much, Spence.”

“I love you more, Peach.”

//

Five months later, your one year anniversary ♡

Spencer had had Ian pull some strings and rent out Buca Di Beppo for your anniversary. Normally, Smosh rented one out for VidCon, but they were doing Smosh Summer Games again this year, and decided to not do VidCon this time around. So they rented it out just for you and Spencer.

Your life had changed so much over the course of a year, and you couldn’t be more grateful for it all. You were in such a better place now than you were then. In so many ways, financially, mentally, physically, romantically, sexually. 

Spencer was the best partner you had ever had, by a fucking long shot. Honestly, in your youth you picked pretty bad ones. Repeatedly. You only had one serious relationship as an adult, and you were locked in for good on your second one. Well, in your opinion, you were locked in for good. 

Spencer hadn’t proposed yet, which was fine. Your birthday was coming up, so you were really hoping he would pop the question then. Whenever you ranted to Ang about this, she would promptly remind you how young your actual relationship is. Amanda, however, encouraged you fully. She had always wanted you two to date, so you getting married would send her into orbit.

Arasha also wanted him to ask you. She had actually started pestering you about your dream ring, your ring size, along with your dream venue and outfit. Chanse had taken you to brunch a few times to ask how the “Plan with a Capital P” was going, because he refused to be serious about it. You kind of liked that, though, because it took some pressure off. 

Because you did want it. Badly. Angela, Tommy, and Damien thought you should wait. Chanse, Amanda, and Arasha thought it was time. Courtney and Shayne refused to take sides, same with Ian and Anthony. Typical couples.

The crew had also decided not to weigh in, minus Erin, Kiana, and Alex. Who were all on your side, for the record.

And what side was Spencer on?

Well, he wasn't on anyone’s side.

He was on one knee, in Buca di Beppo of all places, proposing to you.

And you fucking loved it.

//

“What, did you seriously expect us to have a serious proposal? We’re too funny for boring proposals.”

You were doing a Q&A Smosh Mouth episode about your relationship. After he proposed, and got some gorgeous candids taken by Courtney, you both hard launched on Instagram (and Twitter, and Reddit, and Tumblr. So on and so forth. It really was April First again.)

“Yeah, but Buca?” Shayne was laughing his ass off again, as he did every time either of you told the story to someone. “I mean, it’s a sacred place to us here at Smosh. I get it, I do. It’s just so fucking funny.” Back to his laughter fit.

“I mean, I still remember the first Buca trip I went on with Smosh. I actually sat next to Spence, and I didn't like the pasta I ordered. He gave me his.” You smiled fondly to yourself, feeling sentimental. It was one of your favorite memories. “It’s one of the first times I remember thinking, like, fuck, I like this dude a whole lot. And he’s my best friend. And, like, out of my league.” 

“Whoa, what?” Spencer asked, eyes wide. “Me?”

“Yeah?” You blinked at him, confused.

“No, dude, you're way out of my league, what the fuck are you talking about? Shayne, what the fuck is Y/N talking about?”

Shayne threw his hands up in surrender, entirely not speaking on this. 

“Are we having our first fight on Smosh Mouth right now?” Spencer asked, rubbing his thumb on your hand, which had been laced with his under the table the whole time. He was making a joke, and wanted to make sure you knew he wasn't serious. What a fucking angel.

“It seems so because I think you were out of my league, one hundred percent. But let’s agree to disagree and move on, okay?” You decided not to really ‘yes, and’ that one.

Shayne jumped in, eager to change the topic, even though he knows you two are joking. “Well, the reactions have been stellar. You really pulled it off so well, especially by posting that ‘blooper reel’ of all the times you both messed up on camera!”

You had secretly been a little worried people would be upset. Amanda and Angela assured you anyone who was upset wasn't a real fan. Which was fair.

Speaking of Angela, you came to find out in the following month that everyone ‘taking sides’ was actually just moving parts in a huge Rube Goldberg machine of a proposal plan by Spencer.

Your fiancé. God, it was still crazy to think about.

But while you ran around trying to get people on your side, everyone had already been given guidelines by Spencer on how to react. And Arasha and Angela were his number one operatives.

Angela, your best friend, seemingly not on your side about wanting to get married, planting a seed of doubt in your mind.

(Spencer apologized for the mind games that everyone played, but it all ended so perfectly that you couldn’t stay mad at anyone. Angela would be walking you down the aisle.)

Arasha, your number one wedding supporter, asking wedding-related questions, then feeding the info back to Spencer.

(He had your dream ring handcrafted. Your dream venue was already booked. You weren’t going to say no, anyway. Arasha was helping with planning.)

Damien and Tommy siding with Angela. Damien, a romantic at heart. And Tommy, one of Spencer’s closest friends.

(Damien was in charge of misdirecting you around the office, Tommy is going to be the officiant at your wedding.)

Amanda and Chanse siding with you. Encouraging you that everything was going to be okay, whether he proposed or not.

(Amanda is the ringbearer, Chanse is in charge of music, thank god.)

Courtney, Shayne, Ian, and Anthony not taking sides at all, showing you partners shouldn't take sides.

(And they did. And do. And so do you. But they did remind you to be more mature about it.)

You were marrying Spencer. Your Spencer. Spinner. Spence. Fucking Charles. After nearly ten years, you were finally marrying the dude you fell for the moment you met his eyes in that office lobby. When he shook your hand, there were sparks. You both knew from that moment it was over.

And yet it still took so long. And even despite that, you’d do it all again, because it leads to Spencer. The road might have been bumpy, and the weather wasn't always sunny, and you might have broken down a few times along the way, but it led to Spencer. And you’d drive, run, walk, skip, hop on one leg the whole way down that road, as long as he was on the other side.

And now, he would be.

Always, and forever.

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taglist: @lokidokieokie @chaoticlizzzzzz @babble28 @starstriker027 @langaslefthairstrand @vc55bughead @kneelforloki @cosmichahn @lisiliely

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real author's note time!!

wowie, this has been such a word of labor, love, and obsession. this fic finally pulled me out of my months (almost years) long block, because for once i wrote more than 6k, but i also finished it!!!!! it's been quite a long time since i've finished a fic. next up is the angela x reader anon requested, but i can't promise a time window for that one. i hope you have all enjoyed this fic as much as i have, i'm quite proud of it and of myself. whether you follow me or not, thank you for reading and engaging with my fic. you're the best <3

[blakbonnet]

HAPPY FOX DAY TO ALL THOSE WHO CELEBRATE! Today's a special special AOTW because our featured author this week is best beloved @asneakyfox 🦊

Fox, I genuinely think you're one of the greatest fandom philosophers of our times, and what you write is so much more than regular old meta. Because we're all playing in the sandbox here and while a lot of us lose sight of canon sometimes, you have all four feet firmly planted in the lovely source material we've been provided with. And you don't stop there, you try to actively engage with the community, especially making sure you are keeping an eye on all the differing opinions. I feel like this is why your thesis resonates so thoroughly with different people--it's not trying to prove a point, it's very 'holmes saw a dead body and ejaculated'. You are just so smart that you make the rest of us smarter, but it's never intimidating to talk to you, and I love love love that I get to read your stories and your thoughts because of this show and this fandom.

Fox, brilliant as ever, agreed to answer a few questions for me:

What's your meta writing process like? Do you think in disparate strings about scenes and then write them down as they come to you OR is it usually a conversation or a thought that eats at you until you sit down and untangle it?

generally i'll be thinking about something, usually because i saw another post (or had a conversation about the show on discord; special shoutout to the crew on @figmentof and @scarrletmoon's servers, and especially to @glamaphonic, anything i've ever said you thought was really insightful probably came out of a dm conversation with glam) and some part of a post about it will start writing itself in my head, and unfortunately once that process starts the only way to stop it is to write it down.

even more unfortunately i never know whether it's all going to flow out easily into a coherent essay right away, or if it'll be one of those things where i write two really good paragraphs that ought to go in the middle section of a post that takes a while to figure out how to structure; i just have to start and see where it goes. some meta i've written that got lots of notes was written all at once the moment the thought struck me and posted as soon as it was done, but there's also a few that have been sitting in drafts for months as i keep rewriting the same section without being sure where it goes next.

Favourite themes or characterisations you like to explore while meta writing? (things like Ed's fisherman era and what led to it, etc)

i guess if there's a big theme i keep coming back to it's ed's character arc over the course of the show, his relationship with violence and how it affects his perception of himself and how he has to grow through that to be ready to commit to his relationship with stede. one of the very first things i ever said about the show on tumblr, way back in summer 2022, was that ed's absolute deepest fear was that he is fundamentally unlovable, so it was really a delight to see s2 dive so hard into addressing the exact issues i'd been looking at so explicitly. and of course there's also a lot of fandom racism that plays into some takes that go around about ed, and i think it's really important to call that out and push back against those takes.

i feel like it would be kind of silly to not call out izzy here too. izzy plays an absolutely crucial role in highlighting those exact issues in ed's arc, and i honestly just think the way their whole relationship develops in canon is deliciously meaty and a lot of fandom takes seem determined to flatten it out into something much more boring. so it's important to me to try to highlight the ways you don't have to pretend izzy was a secret good guy all along to appreciate the role he plays in the story.

finally i guess this has only developed over the last several months but i guess one of my trademarks now is speculation about what got deleted from s2. i've always been good at the game of watching a movie and guessing at scenes that were cut or changed, and my spider-sense for that was going off like crazy as i watched s2, and i didn't want to get too speculative at first, but as information has actually come out from samba and vico and other sources, a lot of it's lined up with what i thought. and i'm really interested in how the ofmd writers' room approached storybreaking, so it's worth it to me to try to understand this.

Whose head is it easier to get into - Ed or Stede? Why?

i guess i already answered this! i love them both a lot, and i'd been writing meta for a good while before i consciously realized i'd written a LOT more about ed than about stede, and the ed posts tend to be individually longer than the stede ones too. i think some of this is because ed's arc reads super clearly to me while stede, despite being the main character, gets an arc that's a lot more subtle and internal in some ways (and also i do think suffered significantly from the cuts to the second half of s2). and some of it's because people can be Wrong On The Internet about ed in ways i feel the need to push back against more than about stede. but some of it's just, you know, vibe.

it's always interesting to me that nearly all prolific fic authors in this fandom have a clear very strong preference for which POV they prefer - i don't think all fandoms are like that - but i guess my own alignment is obvious.

Your personal favourite thing you've written that you'd like more people to read

the obvious answer here is the one actual fic i have written for this fandom, "Nothing Could Touch It" which came out of thinking about how there's some post-s2 fic about ed reckoning with this relationship with izzy that i really like but none of it quite got at how i feel like canon's framing it. (don't worry it's not all about izzy! stede's there and there's a bunch of cuddling!)

as far as meta goes though i would call out this as the one i'm probably proudest of, this is the one where i most completely tried to lay out how i saw the show framing ed's relationship with violence during the s1 hiatus, and i think after s2 it holds up pretty well. but also since i was just talking about how i don't say enough about stede, this is the post where i tried to lay out the stuff i really admire in stede as a character.

What is the one word that you think you use a lot?

i've got a bunch of verbal tics i overuse but the one i'm self-conscious about in meta lately is "reading against the text," which sounds so pretentious and lit-crit i really wish there were another good phrase for it. but i think it's really useful as a way to clarify that sometimes i'm saying a particular take is clearly not how the narrative of ofmd is framing something but that doesn't mean you need to stop interpreting it that way. reading against the text is really fun and i recommend it sometimes! but you'll have more fun if you're aware that's what you're doing!

If you were writing his arc, keeping in mind that he stays largely antagonistic in line with the show, how would you have resolved the Izzy problem: would you have made the same decisions the writers made and written a redemption by death OR do you think that the spirit of the show specifically demands Izzy get a good guy (or not as bad a guy) ending where we see his muppetification

one of the predictions i was most confident of before s2 was that if izzy were redeemed, he wouldn't be able to remain in the cast as a good-guy crew muppet afterward. (for this reason i thought the likeliest possibility was a slower redemption arc that wouldn't fully complete till the end of s3.) several times i tried to game out what role a fully redeemed izzy could possibly continue to play within this story, or what personality traits that he showed in s1 he could even hang onto after a full redemption, and i couldn't come up with anything that felt plausible. not "loyalty to your captain," because his devotion to blackbeard was clearly toxic at the root and would need to be purged entirely before it could be replaced by anything healthier; not yelling at people to stop having so much fun and work harder, because that could work in a different story but would run directly counter to the core themes of ofmd - so what's left? i went looking at popular izzy redemption fic that tried to address that question, and some of it came up with answers that worked in the context of a fic focused mostly on izzy, but it was never anything that could possibly work in a tv show that already had established themes and would continue to focus primarily on other characters. and izzy wouldn't be able to just fade into the background with the other muppets after all the focus on him a believable redemption arc would require. so i knew once he was redeemed he'd be done as a character one way or another.

and s2 i think bore that out, honestly in a much more obvious way than i expected - over the course of izzy's s2 arc he's basically divested of all his s1 personality traits until all that's really left by the end is saying twat all the time, and Guy Who Says Twat is not a role the story's going to particularly need going forward. to keep him around after that you'd need to give him enough new traits that he'd be for all practical purposes a new character anyway.

i do sometimes wonder about a world where izzy's s2 arc saw him be offered a clear chance at redemption and choose to reject it and get worse instead. i kind of missed antagonist izzy by the end, and i wonder if a lot of people who'd originally wanted a redemption for him wouldn't have been happier with that even if they didn't realize it - a descent into full villainy would have kept izzy and his relationships with both ed and stede more central to the plot right up till the end, and in particular the sexual aspect of his feelings for ed could have stayed very directly relevant, where the redemption arc necessitated resolving that very firmly to clear it out of the way as early as possible in s2. i never agreed that ofmd's themes necessarily meant redemption for izzy was inevitable - ted lasso was much more overtly a show about redemption than ofmd right from the start, and even ted lasso let at least one of its antagonists make it all the way to the end as an unrepentant scumbag. if there's anything that meant izzy really had to be redeemed imo it wasn't the overall spirit of the show so much as izzy's role in ed's arc - before anything else izzy's narrative role was always to be a walking symbol of the part of ed that fears vulnerability and holds him back from committing himself to love, and for ed and stede to be happily together by the end of s2, ed had to get to a place where he could see that part of himself as something he no longer needs in his life but also doesn't hate anymore. nothing could have symbolized that like having ed embrace izzy as he dies granting ed permission to just be himself.

Why OFMD 🥹

you know, i could say a lot here about how i think ofmd is genuinely incredibly well-written in some ways that are really unusual on american tv. season 1 in particular is just incredibly tight and elegantly plotted, and s2 is messier but that just makes it all the more interesting to look at the constraints they were under that led to that. my day job's in narrative and i really do professionally admire ofmd a lot, which is one of the reasons i tend to think about creator intent more than some people do when i'm writing meta - death of the author is a super valid perspective but personally i'm really interested in trying to figure out why the writers made the choices they made and what i can learn from that for when i'm in their position.

so all of that's true. but also we all know it's kind of beside the point here, this is a hyperfixation, it's not rational. i can tell you i watched the first nine episodes of our flag means death and liked it a lot but in what i would describe as a basically normal kind of way, and then i watched the tenth and at some point during that episode a rat inside my brain hit the dopamine spigot with a wrench and now it won't turn off so here we are.

aaaand if you've made it to this point, please join us in evil ganging up on fox with love by sending a lovely letter to them over on @ofmdlovelyletters who was also kind enough to make this header <3

[azalawa-scroggs]

About Eddie Fender and why he was a dick to Miles

I first started this post in response to something, but it got so long I decided against inflicting it on OP. This is very long and very meandering and the form is kinda weird, as a warning. It's also kinda spoilery for Ace Attorney Investigations 2.

When we first start playing AAI2 and are introduced to "Ace Attorney Eddie Fender," it's true he doesn't come across as very likeable. The first thing he says to Miles is basically "Oh, look! Here comes Manfred von Karma," and the game happens three years after the truth about DL-6 came out. That's incredibly low, very petty, cruel even. He does start off as a dick to Miles, unfair on him until he gradually realises he isn't as bad as he thought, and as he starts warming up to Miles we start warming up to him.

But also... I kind of get it.

Like... Imagine you're 19 years old. Your boss just died in a sudden and shocking murder. You inherit the law firm even though you haven't even passed the bar yet. You're grieving as you keep working hard to become an attorney, now without the guidance you used to have. Maybe you even blame yourself a little - after all, you worked on that case too, you were likely there for the trial, you left both Edgeworths to take that elevator by themselves. Had things played out differently you would have been there, too.

Did you think of your boss's son, in the middle of this whirlwind? Probably a little, but you're a 19 year-old law student. You're nowhere near a suitable place in your life to even think about fostering a kid. Besides, Gregory Edgeworth was your boss. Someone you greatly admired and whose death you will never stop mourning, but still just your boss.

(It's unclear how well Eddie knew Miles. Enough for Miles to recognise him instantly, but certainly not as close as Miles and Phoenix were.)

You take it on yourself to continue the work he left behind, to help the clients Gregory can no longer help. For ten years you try your best to uphold the reputation and the values of his firm and name, and every day you witness a little more how corrupt the system really is.

Then, one day, you start hearing about this young new prosecuting upstart. Passed the bar at 20 and already has the legal world in his pocket. Rumours of forged evidence, backstreet deals, manipulated witnesses. Not only is that just like the whole lot of them, the tactics you became so familiar with over the years - no, it sounds painfully, specifically familiar to that one long, drawn-out case, the last one you worked with Gregory. It turns out the young prodigy is the student and protégé of Mr. Perfection himself, the man who never lost a case in thirty-five years, even though he should have lost against you ten years ago if the world was even a little fair. You would hate the boy for that alone, but on top of that he's also the son of the mentor you lost, the son of the man you both used to admire so very much.

And that hurts. That none of Gregory's legacy lived on in his son. That this sweet, kind boy, who Gregory always used to worry about not making any friends, became a parody of all they used to despise.

Perhaps you even get to see him. You catch a glance of him in the courthouse corridor as he passes you by without so much as a nod to acknowledge you, or you stumble upon a picture in the same paper that struck Phoenix Wright so deeply. You see that damn suit. That damn smirk. That damn waggly finger. His features may have something of Gregory but everything in him screams von Karma. He's spent a decade trying to shape himself into him, and it shows.

Prosecutors are a privileged bunch, and the Edgeworth kid grew up into a downright brat. Entitled. Rude. Arrogant. Obsessed with his fucking perfect record. You hear he goes around cutting the salaries of detectives that make a tenth of what he does and insulting the opposing counsel in court. He became the worst of them all, taught by the worst of them all, he is everything Gregory fought against and everything you hate

Why would you want to associate with that? Why would you ever think he is not perfectly fine where he is, with his cushy office and his cushy sports car and his doubtlessly cushy pay?

A couple years later you hear he's been arrested for murder. Maybe you follow the trial, maybe you only see the headlines after everything, after DL-6 is finally solved. Honestly, that's when you start having a reason to reach out. When, had you been less embittered and jaded by the thanklessness of your job, you might have wondered what it was like for him to grow up in the shadow of his father's murderer. You might have been stricken with compassion and horror at the thought of fifteen years spent in crushing guilt, believing he killed the father he used to love so much. You might have empathised, despite your contempt for von Karma, with how his ward might feel to be so cruelly betrayed, thrice over, by the man who raised him since he was nine, who taught him everything before throwing him away like a piece of used junk.

But you still think of how he was like a son to von Karma, of how he got to spend fifteen years in wealth, following a shiny, easy, corrupt new path while you grieved and desperately tried to keep the pieces of your shared dream together. You think of how uneasy Gregory seemed with the idea of von Karma as a teacher, you think of how eager Miles seemed to follow in his footsteps and how much Gregory would have hated it. You think of the many defendants this boy callously condemned with barely a thought, just like his mentor. Of how he may not have his father's blood on his hands, but with the way he acts you'd think he had his murderer's in his veins. And you really, really don't want to deal with any of that.

You think, somewhat unfairly, that maybe Miles ought to have seen it coming. It's not like it's much of a secret that Manfred von Karma is a piece of shit, and good riddance to him.

Three years later, you actually have to interact with him again. It's been 18 years since you last saw him in his father's shadow, looking at him like he hung the stars in the sky, back when everything was so simple for the three of you. It's been 3 years since the truth about his oh-so-esteemed mentor was uncovered. He still wears the cravat. His brow is still furrowed, his eyes are still piercing.

But slowly, begrudgingly, you talk to him. You start realising he actually has some honour to him. That he's not really the Demon Prosecutor the papers made him out to be, that maybe you misjudged him a little bit, in you grief-stricken, angry bitterness. That maybe he can be trusted, after all, with his father's legacy.

Why would you think he ever needed saving?

[ravers8fantasy]

Punch out locker room mishaps: major circuit 🔱

I feel like the major circuit locker room would be better, definitely cleaner and with decently made furniture inside.

Don hogs like 3 lockers in the far end, he always brings too much stuff - VERY high maintenance

Hondo hides his manga inside his gym bag, has on multiple occasions left it out though so the others have read through some

They have a card board cut out of the referee in the locker room like a mascot

The referee doesnt know this because one of Don's 3 lockers is the designated hiding spot for it

Bear hugger takes decades in the shower, its either he's fallen asleep or trying to shape his shampoo bubbles into animals

Everyone has tried on Don's toupee wig thing at least once, even the referee and his card board cut out doppelganger

Bear hugger thought it was his squirrel and took it home with him to Canada one winter break, Don was in anguish and thought one of tiger's clone's stole it

Don and Tiger LOVE talking shit about super macho man, they have a designated gossip spot and everything

They all dress up the referee card board cut out when they are bored, they went absolutley hysterical when Hondo put Don's spare wig toupee thing on top

Don was less than thrilled to see them all giggling like school children

When bear hugger first saw it he didnt realise it was a card board cut out and kept talking to it

When little Mac joined the circuit, he opened up the locker hiding it and got jumpscared, absolutely started pissing himself when Hondo told him it was the circuit's mascot

Bear hugger chased Don around with a rat he once found, thats how everyone found out Don has an embarassing 'horror movie' scream

Hondo once ran into a locker and knocked it over. Everyone freaked out because they thought the lockers were nailed to the floor and they started moving everything around

The referee asked them to stop but gave up when he watched them create a make shift basket ball court with 2 lockers and a bench

Tiger loves playing pranks, one time when Hondo was alone in the showers Tiger shut of all the lights and made his clone's act as ghosts

And thats how Hondo slipped so bad he sprained his wrist (also became afraid of the 4th shower)

They all had a circuit sleep over, bear hugger fell asleep hugging the referee cardboard cut out

ended up bending weirdly so now it looks even sillier, especially in the don flamenco cosplay Tiger dressed it up in earlier that night

Tiger ate all of his kaju katli thinking it was gonna keep him awake all night (it knocked his ass right to sleep as soon as the clock struck 11)

Don snored so fucking loudly and kept making noises in his sleep, Hondo thought the 'ghosts' which made him slip in the shower came back to get him bro didnt sleep a wink

Every one nicknamed Hondo 'sonic', even bear hugger started calling him that even though he didnt know what it was.

"fellas what is a sonic the hedgehog?"

"bear are you serious- You dont know THE sonic the hedgehog?"

"Tiger he lives in the middle of no where with a bear and is friends with a squirel what did you honestly expect."

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

KK hope yall enjoyed this yap of mine 💕

[shy-writer-999]

Hi I saw your post about Law’s happy trail!! I was wondering if you would write something based off of that? Like if the reader really likes it they would always tell Law how hot it is during sex then he would get shy and not believe them and it would end up messing up his performance🤭🤭

oh my wordddd please. yes i will write something about this of course… that man has been on my mind an ungodly amount. i just word vomited this onto the page, apologies if it's messy!

Law's happy trail 🥴

Law was fucking you in missionary when he realized you were staring at it. His happy trail. You couldn’t help it.

The black hair crept from its thick ring around the base of his cock, travelling up his lower abdomen, where it thinned out and disappeared at his belly button. There was something so masculine about the wiry strands playing up his body, manly whisps that accented and emphasized how toned and sleek he was. His happy trail rolled and grinded into you along with his hips and cock—it was mesmerizing.

You always thought it was hot. I mean, he’s just hot in general so of course it was hot. But in that moment some fascination struck you. You were laser focused on it.

“Fuck, Law,” you panted his name between moans. “Your happy trail is so fucking hot.”

It took a moment for him to register what you said. He froze. “What?”

“I said your happy trail is fucking hot.”

Your eyes flashed up from his abdomen to his eyes. Law was bright red, poised over you. He didn’t know what to say back—were you making fun of him? What did you mean?

Law resumed rocking his hips into you and your eyes went back to watching his happy trail, abs, and cock grind into you. Sweet sounds kept falling from your lips and Law fucked you a moment more, but then he froze again.

He pulled out and collapsed on the bed next to you, looking up at the ceiling. He was blushing so hard you thought he’d explode.

“Are you okay, Law? What happened?”

“Your comment about my… happy trail.”

“What about it? It’s hot, Law.”

More blood rushed to his cheeks. “Are you sure?”

“What? Of course I’m sure. You’re gorgeous, Law. I was just admiring the view.”

He turned to you. His eyes looked distraught, he was crimson, and his brows were bent at the middle.

“I just got a bit insecure.” Law averted his eyes again.

“Babbbyyyy, please believe me.” You got on top of him and peppered his face with kisses. “I’m not lying to you. You’re just so sexy I can’t take my eyes off you.” When you smiled sweetly like this, his heart melted.

He groaned. “Alright sweetheart, I believe you. C’mere.” Law brought his hands up to cup your cheeks and kissed you tenderly. He rutted his erection up, sliding it through your wet and inflamed folds.

You smiled and snuck a hand down, passing over Law’s happy trail with your hand and then grasping his shaft. You stroked him for a second and he let a whine out in your mouth as you exchanged sloppy kisses.

“I need you, sweetheart.” He groaned again and you positioned his cock at your entrance, slowly sliding down on him with a whine. You braced your palms on his abdomen and rode him until he came inside you.

When you cuddled after sex, you passed your hand over his happy trail a couple more times and he blushed every time. “It tickles a little bit,” he said gruffly. “But if you like it, I like it.”

---

(*ﾉ∀`*)

guys i think you are all witnessing my thigh fetish in real life. idk where i got this shit. im sorry to subject you to it. but its here. this ^^ happy trail writing falls under the umbrella of the thigh thing, in my mind. that’s what we’re going to call it. the thigh thing. i literally wanna bite and chomp on the happy trail like a rabid dog

[mixelation]

do you have any tips on how to write children? love your parenting fic!

Sure! The follow is for kids less than ten (usually once they're tweens the general capability of fic authors to write them improves, probably because people usually remember middle school). Keep in mind there's a huge difference between a three year old and an eight year old, though.

I think the biggest one I'd give is just remember that children characters are people. Children have their own thoughts, opinions, and ideas, and you can probably apply whatever strategy you use for writing adult characters to children. For me, I try to figure out character motives and then that guides what they do and say and how it makes them feel about things happening around them. Children will probably have more simple motivations compared to adults, although they are absolutely capable of more complex motives. For figuring out kid!motives, I try to imagine what kids' worlds consist of. For most children, school and social interactions with their teachers and other children is a huge chunk of their daily life. Their home life will also structure their motives-- do their guardians or siblings play with them? Are their guardians strict or lax? Does the kid get brought along or errands, left home alone, left with a rotating cast of babysitters, etc? How do all these factors effect how their interact with the world and what they want from it?

For example an example of how I'd start with motivation for building a character, Naruto's biggest motivator throughout his childhood is wanting attention because he doesn't have a home life. He acts out because he feels even negative attention is better than being ignored. So, writing his reactions to events with the idea that he genuinely just wants attention isn't very complicated. But then, what does he do once has attention? Does he react differently to positive versus negative attention? How does he react when he acts out and still fails to capture attention? How is he when he's home alone? When he fantasizes about getting his attention, how does he imagine it will go? He does his pranks for attention, so does he plan his pranks or is he mostly spontaneous, or some mix of the two? If he managed to make a friend, how would he want to play with them? When would what he wants to do in his fantasies be different from what he ends up doing, and how would he feel about it?

In considering the answers to these questions, I think another aspect of writing children that people struggle with is that children often don't have a very good sense of cause and effect, and on top of that there's huge variation in how quickly small kids pick up on action -> consequence and the nuances involved there of. Some kids, especially younger ones, will know breaking a rule leads to some negative outcome, but they might not understand the reason behind the rule and this effects their decision making. Some kids might not understand an action falls into some category there's rules about, even if they know the rules. Some kids might understand a rule and then ignore it anyway. (I told a kid I was babysitting once not to run with scissors because they could hurt themselves, and they replied, "But I do it all the time, and I've never been hurt.") I've witnessed a lot of young kids hurt another child and then get upset themselves because they literally didn't realize what they did would hurt. Kids' decisions, while they might seem illogical to adults, generally make sense to the child, and so I would encourage writers to consider why their characters are doing things and if it would make sense to that character.

The third big thing I'd keep in mind is interconnected with the two thing above, and that's "big emotions, little body." Young people often have big, confusing emotions, and they're not necessarily going to understand them and why they're happening, how to self-regulate them, or what to do about them. Like, adults have confusing emotions they don't always know what to do with, right? Imagine you're having some conflicting, confusing feelings, and also you barely understand why things are evening happening because you don't have a good handle on the concept of "consequences" outside of your mom's house rules. You also might not have even had whatever feeling before-- grief, jealousy, etc. How any given kid is going to handle their big emotions will vary because, again, children are people and they have different experiences and personalities. A kid with a good support network might be able to get an adult or maybe even another kid to help them through it. Some kids will throw tantrums or shut down or act out. Think about your child character's past experiences and what support/options might be available to them.

The final small suggestion I have is to look up age milestones. A common complaint about fictional children is them using weird, broken childspeak that's both annoying to read and unrealistic. I've worked with kids as young as three, and they can generally speak in full, coherent sentences by then.