#I won’t try to talk much more about this and don’t want to provide more info

[docholligay]

@thoughtfulfuri sorry this took me so long! A revised list of books you should look into reading this year. I could have added more ahaha, but this will keep you plenty busy.

Deeply informed by your list and the brief of:  “Books that have deeply influenced the thrust of the genre and media broadly” 

I also went for breadth over depth--you had some authors with a TON of books on your list, and if you’re looking for understanding of media influence I’m not sure that’s the best use of your time. THis isn’t a perfect list but I think it’ll provide a better net than your original. I do not know what you have an haven’t read. Spots where I think you might have read my recommendation I supplied a second. An incomplete list, because no list is ever complete, and always has huge gaps in judgment. WE can always make a new list next year! 

Agatha Christie -- And Then There Were None This was already on your list and it’s perfect. I prefer Murder On the Orient Express, but in fairness, those are the only two Christie novels I’ve ever read. And I’d keep it to one from each author. 

The Art of War — Sun Tzu  From your list, I have no issue with it

Kurt Vonnegut -- Slaughterhouse Five  This is his best and most enduring work. IF you’re looking for incredible influence, this is the one. 

Octavia Butler -- Kindred  I winnowed down your multiple Butler works to this big hitter. 

Isaac Asimov -- I, Robot From your list, make total sense

Daphne DuMaurier -- Rebecca You had My Cousin Rachel, which is great fun, but Rebecca is THE DuMaurier book. 

Leo Tolstoy -- War and Peace I replaced Crime and Pnishment with this not because I don’t like Crime and Punishment, but because if you’re going to commit to a russian novel, you may as well make it the most influential one ever written. This is routinely hailed as the best fucking novel ever written. It is in fact great. I will reread it with you this year! 

Frank Herbert -- Dune. This is from your original list and it’s fine I guess. I think reading Dune is a waste of time unless you’re super into sci-fi, but I won’t fight it. 

JRR Tolkien-- The Fellowship of the Ring From your original list and yeah absolutely. Cannot hope to ujnderstand fantasy as a genre without reading this. If you like it I recommend the whole series, but Tolkien can be hard for people. 

Harper Lee -- To Kill A Mockingbird From your list. Yes, this is an incredibly important American piece. 

Jane Austen -- Pride and Predjudice. There is no more influential Austen novel. You gotta. If you’ve read P&P read Sense and Sensibility, which has the added benefit of being at least four times better (according to people named Doc, who are me, who do not like P&P) 

Ray Bradbury -- Fahrenheit 451. I actually prefer Something Wicked from your list, but F451 is much more influential. If you’ve read Farenheit, read 1984 by George Orwell. IF you’ve read that, read Brave New World by Huxley. If you’re read that, scrap totally, your list is very sci-fi weighted anyhow. 

Oscar Wilde -- The Picture of Dorian Gray. Replaced A Woman of No Importance, which most people haven’t even heard of, with Picture, a deeply and widely referenced novel. If you’ve read picture, read “The Importance of Being Earnest” or better, watch a proshot of a play. 

Gregory McGuire--- Wicked. I dunno that I think this deserves a spot on your list, but I get that everyone’s talking about it right now. And I like the book! But it’s just not very genre influential, it’s more deeply influenced BY the genre. I left it, because I get wanting to engage with everyone talking about it, but those are my reservations.

WE ARE OFF YOUR LIST TOTALLY NOW. So I took a bunch of repeats off your list. I admire wanting to track influential books, and broaden your understanding of media generally, but I think you were sorta getting into the weeds. So I added a few others that have huge media impact. 

Charles Dickens -- David Copperfield    Boy did this suck for me to try and pick. I fucking love Charles Dickens. He was a dick in a lot of ways, revolutionary in others, and the man could write his ass off. He knew how to write a serial style that also keeps track of itself, and there is stuff that blows my mind as a modern reader even now. (If I hadn’t unintentionally made last years book clubs essentially Brit Lit 2: Brit harder i would be doing a Dickens novel for book club. I do have an idea of theming this year as “The American Answer” so like, we did Brideshead last year and the, well, an, American answer to that book is the Secret History. Here On Earth for Wuthering Heights. I don’t know. Actually, there’s an AMerican restyling of David Copperfield in my to-reads for this year) BUT ANYWAY, I ended up picking David Copperfield. It was Dickens’ own favorite, it’s one of his only first person novels, and it is the clearest example of Dickens’ tendency to impress himself upon a character. It has its flaws, of course, but I think centering yourself on David, a nostalgic, emotional writer trying to make his way in the world up from poverty, gives you a great understanding of both Dickens’ incredible influence and his own understanding of HIMSELF. Wow that was a lot of words. I have feelings about Charles Dickens. Sorry. 

Toni Morrison -- Beloved I didn’t like this book, when I read it. But it is good, it won the fucking Pulitzer Prize. I think Song of Solomon is better for me though. Anyway, you have to read Toni Morrison. The way she weaves in the Black American experience with undertones of magical realism impacts the way stories of what I’m going to call “difficult narratives” are allowed to be told today, influencing even people outside of the Black community. 

Salman Rushdie -- The Satanic Verses A masterwork of parallel storytelling, people keep trying to kill Rushdie over this book, a fantastic story about the immigrant experience in Great Britian. 

And some genre stuff for flavor: 

Spy Novels:

Ian Fleming -- Casino Royale  You know who james fucking Bond is. He was a book character first! 

John LeCarre -- The Spy who Came in From the Cold Okay, I am gonna level with you that this and fleming are two opposite poles, but I think they are two opposite poles that give you a really good look at what the spy novel can be and has been. I really enjoy John LeCarre despite not being huge into the genre

Horror: 

Shirley Jackson -- The Haunting of Hill House  This is the novel that launched Stephen King of all people, among others. Jackson is a fucking genius. 

Stephen King -- The Shining Horror is hard, because I read and love a lot of it. But The Shining had a huge influence on both horror and the American consciousness broadly. 

Fantasy:

TH White-- The Once and Future King. Were you at the book club for this? I cannot fucking remember to save my own life. Anyway, if you weren’t, this and LoTR changed fantasy forever. Same time period, even. How we understand fantwasy broadly today comes out of how Tolkien and White were thinking of it. If you read this, read The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe by CS Lewis. 

Grr Martin-- A Game of Thrones Oh, I’m gonna get letters. But genuinely this book changed the game in fantasy, and had a huge cultural impact on America and many other Western countries.

[onfuryroad]

Here’s my one post about the election. Things will be far, far worse for more people under Trump than Harris.

Is Harris perfect? No! But the whole of the government, specially the executive branch, is more than just the president.

As someone who works and supports a lot of government agencies, there’s huge differences during administrations!

The Department of Health and Human Services is able to talk about trans people, about trans men who get pregnant, about how being trans makes it harder to get access to care.

It’s able to talk about how maternal mortality rates are higher for Black women and look at ways to fix that. Able to push for food to be covered as health care.

Programs that do incredibly important reach out to people living with HIV are able to flourish.

Under Trump, many pr*-l!fe people were appointed to important roles and committees who only wanted to push their agendas.

This all just one branch! Do you want SNAP benefits to be decided by someone who wants to cut the program entirely or by someone who cares? Do you want the Department of Education to be filled with people looking to fix the student loan crisis or have a president who wants to get rid of that entire department? Do you want the Department of Housing and Urban Development to be run someone who’s a landlord?

I get, I really do, that there’s a lot more Harris could be doing and should be. But one is an imperfect candidate who you can push to do greater reform and one will want to destroy the lives of your friends, your family, your neighbors.

[maikaartwork]

Artists, let’s talk about Instagram commission scammers

There’s been a huge rise in commission scammers recently, mostly on Instagram. A lot of new artists don’t know what to look out for, so I figured this might help people.

How they begin

Usually the scammer will write to you asking about a commission. Something deceptively cute - mostly I encounter asks about pet portraits, with one or two photos sent. They’ll probably try to sell you a sweet little story, like “It’s for my son’s birthday”. They will insist that they love your artwork and style, even though they don’t follow you or never liked a single piece of your art.

What to look out for:

Their profiles will either be private, empty, or filled with very generic stuff, dating at most a few years back.

Their language will be very simple, rushed or downright bad. They might use weird emojis that nobody ever uses. They will probably send impatient “??” when you don’t answer immediately. They’re in a crunch - lots of people to scam, you know. 

They’ll give you absolutely no guidelines. No hints on style, contents aside from (usually) the pet and often a name written on the artwork, no theme. Anything you draw will be perfect. Full artistic freedom. In reality they don’t really care for this part.

They’ll offer you a ridiculous amount of money. Usually 100 or 300 USD (EDIT: I know it might not be a lot for some work. What I mean here - way higher than your asking price, 100 and 300 are standard rates they give). They’ll often put in a phrase like “I am willing to compensate you financially” and “I want the best you can draw”, peppered with vague praise. It will most likely sound way too good to be true. That’s because it is.

Where the scam actually happens

If you agree, they will ask you for a payment method. They’ll try to get to this part as soon as possible. 

Usually, they’ll insist on PayPal. And not just any PayPal. They’ll always insist on sending you a transfer immediately. None of that PayPal Invoice stuff (although some do have methods for that, too). They’ll really, REALLY want to get your PayPal email address and name for the transfer - that’s what they’re after. If you insist on any other method, they’ll just circle back to the transfer “for easiest method”. If you do provide them with the info, most likely you’ll soon get a scam email. It most likely be a message with a link that will ultimately lead to bleeding you dry. Never, and I mean NEVER click on any emails or links you get from them. It’s like with any other scam emails you can ever get.

A few things can happen here:

They overpay you and ask for the difference to be wired back. Usually it will go to a different account and you’ll never see that money again. 

They’ll overpay you “for shipping costs” and ask you to forward the difference to their shipping company. Just like before, you’ll never see that money again.

The actual owner of the account (yes, they most likely use stolen accounts to wire from) will realize there’s been something sketchy going on and request a refund via official channels. Your account will be charged with fees and/or you get in trouble for fraudulent transactions. 

You will transfer the money from your PayPal credit to your bank account and they will make a shitstorm when they want their money back, making your life a living hell. They will call you a scammer, a thief, make wild claims, wearing you down and forcing you into wiring money “back” - aka to their final destination account. 

Never, EVER wire money to anyone. This is not how it’s supposed to go. Use PayPal Invoice for secure exchanges where the client needs to provide you with their email, not the other way around.

You can find more info on that method HERE.

What to do when you encounter a scammer:

Ask the right questions: inquire about the style, which artwork of yours they like, as much details as you can. They won’t supply you with any good answers.

Don’t let the rush of the exchange, their praise and the promise of insanely good money to get to you. That’s how they operate, that’s how they make you lose vigilance. 

Don’t engage them. As soon as you realize it might be a scam, block them. The sense of urgency they create with their rushed exchange, and pressure they put on you will sooner or later get to you and you might do something that you’ll regret later.

Never wire money to anyone. Never give out your personal data. Never provide your email, name, address or credit card info. 

Don’t be deceived by receiving a payment, if you somehow agree to go along with it. Just because it’s there now doesn’t mean it can’t be withdrawn. 

Here is a very standard example of such an exchange. I realized it’s a scam pretty fast and went along with it, because I wanted good screenshots for you guys, so I tried going very “by the book” with it. 

Please share this post, make it reach as many artists as possible. Let young or inexperienced artists know that this is going on. So many people have no idea that this is a thing. Let’s help each other out. If you think I missed any relevant info, do add it as an rb!

Also, if you know other scam methods that you think should be shared, consider rb-ing this post with them below. Having a master post of scam protection would AWESOME to have in the art community.

[felikatze]

QoL as Kindness: ISAT's diagetic tutorials

This is the hopefully first of a series of posts I'll be doing reinterpreting ISAT's Loop through the lens of START AGAIN: a prologue's context. As such....

Major spoilers for both ISAT (all acts, including optional content) and SASASAP (all endings).

One of the biggest differences between ISAT and SASASAP is it’s QoL – it’s Quality of Life. QoL refers to all the little things that make a game just that little bit more playable; quick to navigate menus, quicksaving… tutorials.

It’s not really a surprise that SASASAP is as RPGmaker as RPGmaker gets. This isn’t a criticism, just an observation, and also a compliment to how much Adrienne’s skills with the engine improved between releases. Still, there’s some things that ISAT has over SASASAP.

ISAT’s QoL is absolutely essential to making it bearable. Anyone ever watch an ISAT playthrough where the player sighed in relief as the tutorial on picking where you loop came up?

SASASAP lacks a lot of ISAT’s QoL because it’s an earlier project without a studio backing it, but what impresses me is how this change ties into narrative.

Because the greatest chunk of ISAT’s greatest QoL is provided by Loop.

Even before you ever meet them, they’re already over your shoulder. Loop is the tutorial, speaking to you inside your brain. It’s genius, in that no player is ever going to question this. Hell, SASASAP’s movement tutorial is the exact same thing with less flavoring

This reframes what the QoL is – it’s not just a convenience to the player, it’s a convenience to Siffrin, too. It’s diegetic. It’s not something the game is giving you, it’s something Loop is giving you. Let’s look at what Loop gives you, and more importantly, why.

Zone Out

The first of the QoL features I want to talk about is the Zone Out function, the absolute bread and butter of not making this game a total slog.

The Zone Out feature as is did not exist in SASASAP (because Adrienne didn’t know how to do it yet) – instead, some doubled scenes let you just skip them entirely outright. There’s only two extremes: listen to all of it again, or none of it.

ISAT’s zone out system is much more dynamic, since it fast forwards dialogue line by line, letting you zone in whenever you’d like, and forcing you to zone in whenever a) something notably new happens, or b) whenever Siffrin speaks.

The way this feature is introced by Loop is kind of genius. Because Loop’s tutorial is about one thing – it’s okay to skip.

“You might miss what your party is saying, but who cares, right? If you make them mad, you can always loop back and they'll have forgotten all about it!”

It’s a cruel joke, or at least it seems that way on the surface. It’s also genuine advice. And a cruel joke at the same time. For Siffrin, freshly starting the loops, this is scandalous, but for Loop, who’s long since desensitized, it’s the same old same old.

What Loop’s doing here, by joking about Siffrin not listening to the party, is alliviate Siffrin’s guilt when they inevitably take Loop up on the offer. Because, even though Loop loves their party members…

From SASASAP, when sitting outside the bathroom:

(Will you get farther this time?) (Will you live this time?) (Or are you stuck listening to the same lines forever?) (…) (Stars, you’re so tired.)

Loop knows intimately well that Siffrin is going to drive themself insane trying to be a people pleaser every single loop, so this joke is telling the outright – don’t bother.

At first, Siffrin (and the player) still might. I really enjoyed reading the same conversations five times minimum because they’re fun and I’m deranged, but at some point I did start skipping them. And it was a relief to know there wouldn’t be anything new.

Siffrin: “Should I check everything again?” Loop: “You mean, should you check the same barrels, the same closets, the same objects on tables every loop?” Loop: “I mean, you can, but… You know things won’t change, right?” Loop: “If you really want to get a certain item again, or listen to your friends repeat something funny, you should!” Loop: “I personally would only check two or three things every loop, and ignore the rest.” Loop: “It will just make you crazy to expect something to change, when nothing will.” Loop: “All that might change is your reaction to it!”

The game is telling you, Loop is telling Siffrin, don’t drive yourself insane playing, please. The characters aren’t going to remember if you skipped something.

In the course of my script wizard activities, I’ve gotten an in-depth view of just how much that actually holds up. Pretty much all major differences are by Act, unrelated of how often you’ve done something. Minor variations apply for other things, but… those variations are minor.

And this also points out what all those variations are. Siffrin’s reactions!

Loop’s pre-empting Siffrin’s guilt, cuz they probably felt it themself. Hell, we do know they felt the pressure to perform and make sure nobody notices anything’s wrong, in SASASAP! Right up until the finale, Loop was driving themself up the wall.

(You have to act, you can't crack, you have to fake it and play it exactly as you did the first time for the whole way through so your friends don't find out anything is wrong) (You don't want to know what would happen if they knew their quest was in vain) (If they knew their quest for justice and change always ends in stillness and death!)

Acting everything out perfectly is one of the ending paths for SASASAP, which results in… complete and utter failure. Obviously.

(You acted perfectly normally, didn't you?) (Nothing out of place, nothing weird, every line the same as it might've been the first time?) (Ah…That was your mistake, wasn't it…?) (Because… Didn't your very first time… end exactly like this?) (The King throws the Housemaiden's body onto the floor again.)

Zoning out for too many conversations actually awards weird points in SASASAP, locking you out of the Perfect Ending. On the other hand, acting “perfectly” in ISAT… has no awards whatsoever. No special scene or or optional event or anything at all. You get nothing for paying attention!!!

So spare yourself the pain already, m’kay?

(On that note: I don’t think Loop not being sarcastic about it would’ve like… worked. At the start of ACT 2, Siffrin isn’t going to believe Loop when they say “Stop forcing yourself to relive the same thing over and over because you’ll start seeing your friends as disposable actors and lose touch with reality.” That all comes later, when Siffrin can look back on Loop’s words and see how right they were.)

Loop Back

The second biggest sigh of relief in any given ISAT playthrough is probably this specific tutorial.

Loop graciously shows you that you don’t need to loop back all the way to the beginning every single time. You can pick and choose where to go, even going forward by paying up with Memories of Skirmish.

This is a feature SASASAP does not possess, for the reason that it is much, much shorter, only covering about as much as one floor of ISAT’s three floor House.

But… since this is a character showing this to you, Loop showing this to you, we can ask… when did Loop learn this? After all, START AGAIN, Loop’s loops, do not have this feature.

“It'll save you time, so it's important, so listen up!”

This feature not existing in SASASAP means this is a thing that Loop did not know exists during their own time as Siffrin.

And that’s just the thing, isn’t it? SASASAP’s Siffrin does not know how to do this. They cannot pick and choose where they end up, as demonstrated wonderfully by SASASAP’s True Ending. There’s an even more wonderful implication, though –

On SASASAP’s Perfect End path, when exiting the final room before the King, Isabeau says this:

Isabeau: “…I'm glad you're feeling better, though!” Siffrin: (…?) “What do you mean…?” Isabeau: “Oh!!! Um, you were…” Isabeau: “Well! You were acting a little weird when we were way closer to the Castle's entrance……” Isabeau: “You weren't really listening to us, you were kinda smiling the way you do when you're actually not happy…” Isabeau: “…and you like, almost acted like you knew exactly where you were going?” Isabeau: “But clearly you're feeling better now! You're acting just like normal!!!”

SASASAP’s Siffrin knew how to do this, somehow managed to lock themself into the House’s last floor… and then forgot how to get back. By making this tutorial, Loop is ensuring that Siffrin never will.

“What can I do next?” – SASASAP’s greatest flaw

So, if you’ve had the pleasure of playing START AGAIN START AGAIN START AGAIN: a prologue yourself (as you should), then you’ve probably faced this scenario, or some variation of it:

I got to the end, I died to the King, but… what do I do next? The game tells me to go for the extremes, but how do I do that?

(edit: apparently some of yall just managed to speedrun sasasap in two loops. You're gonna need to stay with me here, please. Suspend your disbelief a bit, because a lot of people [including me] were dumbasses about it)

Maybe you try another loop, but just get the same ending again (or a differnet one, depending on a coinflip). You’re getting frustrated. Getting the Perfect Ending demands pinpoint precision to avoid everything weird, the True Ending demands good memorization of every single damn key in the game, and the order you do everything in. (Though, to be fair, the requirements on that one are actually more merciful than one might expect.)

Point is, in SASASAP, it’s incredibly easy to get stuck in that endless loop of “What the fuck do I do now?” It’s not uncommon to think you got it right only to get the same result anyways. What does one do in this situation?

They consult a guide, obviously.

START AGAIN’s ending requirements are frustrating. They are. When I tried to go for either the Perfect or the True Ending, I saved inside every single room, just so I could get right back to it when I inevitably fucked up five times minimum. This is both criticism… and praise. Because Loop is the major reason that ISAT does not suffer from this same problem.

Whenever you’re stuck in ISAT, Loop is just a single loop or call away at any times. And besides that, no plot requirement in ISAT demands nearly as many moving pieces all at once as SASASAP does – the “Sus Route” has been relegated to an optional ACT 4 exclusive event, instead of the game’s True Ending.

Instead of consulting an external guide on how to progress, you have one right there in the game, always ready with the next tip. They’re not infallible, mind you – enough time in Isatcord’s #game-help proves that, but Loop solved all of the moments I got stuck and frustrated in ISAT for me.

(Primarily that one time you need to figure out that a photo is similar to being stuck in time. That moment in particular is actually commendable, as you need to ask Loop about it twice before they tell you, leaving you a last shot to try and figure it out on your own.) Loop is a feature that nullifies SASASAP’s greatest flaw in its successor, and they choose to do so.

Memory of Keys

In my humble opinion, Loop does this because… they do not want Siffrin to suffer as they did. They want Siffrin to escape. And there is no greater example of their kindness than how Loop treats keys.

First of all, all keys in the game have a sparkling effect on them if you’ve picked them up at least once before, making it immediately clear where in the room they are. This means you don’t need to search every single room top to bottom for them, as you had to do for any keys and Star Crests in SASASAP. It’s some nice QoL that just means you don’t have to re-search the same area if you happened to forget which specific cupboard the key was in.

Key point being: SASASAP did not have this feature. In SASASAP, you did have to memorize where all the keys are, and doing so is expected if you want the True Ending.

Loop does not want Siffrin to have to do this. Because…

From SASASAP’s True End:

(The torch in the infirmary? That’s important!) (The key in the book? Soooo important.) (The names of your friends, that have been by your side throughout this entire adventure?) (Not worth remembering.)

Compared to ISAT’s ACT 2:

Siffrin: “How come I can see where the keys are?” Loop: “Whaaaaat? You caaaaaan? How can that beeeeeee?” Siffrin: “Is it thanks to you?” Loop: “Maybe.” Loop: “I figured you'd have other things to worry about than where a stupid key is.” Loop: “No need to thank me.”

To Loop, that they memorized the House’s layout over their friends’ names is a defining moment to their own failures. After all, in all likelihood, the True End of SASASAP is the last loop before they called it quits. It’s a traumatic experience from them, one that came from having to remember all the dumb fucking keys.

They do not want Siffrin to experience this. They do not want Siffrin to have to memorize the House, to push away what actually matters in favor of efficiency. So Loop is directly, personally, giving them a boon, so that Siffrin does not have to.

Conclusion

There’s probably more tutorial things I could talk about, but I feel like you’re seeing the pattern now, even if I don’t bring up saving level ups or keeping equipment or the “You’re stuck” signifier, least of all cuz they don’t have direct points of comparison with SASASAP like my other examples do (SASASAP has no changeable equipment, and saving levels doesn’t matter if you only have one floor, and you can’t softlock either.). So.

Loop’s tutorials all belie a fundamental kindness to their character. Everything that made their own experience trapped in the timeloop just that bit worse, they’re choosing to do away with it for Siffrin. They are choosing to make Siffrin’s time here easier.

Zoning out too much lead to them never paying attention to their friends, forgetting their names, so they make sure that Siffrin can still zone back in whenever something new happens.

Loop trapped themself for years on the final floor, locking themself out of progress that might lie further back, so they’re ensuring Siffrin knows exactly how to loop forwards and backwards so it doesn’t happen again.

Loop lets Siffrin keep equipment across loops to cut down on time spent doing the exact same thing over and over.

They are saving Siffrin time, and they are giving Siffrin comfort. At every single turn, Loop is saving Siffrin from the same pitfalls they fell into without anyone to guide them out.

It's honestly incredible to transform an increase in skill into an actual narrative element. Yes, SASASAP sucks more to play. But ISAT sucks less, because Loop wants it to. It's the perfect marriage of real world circumstance and storytelling. I could... probably pull another comparison here, saying it's like a game and its remake - overhauled graphics, expanded story, and loads and loads of QoL, because the makers of the remake realized something. They love the original, but parts of it do suck, and there's so much that can be done to make a new player's experience smoother. Metanarrative commentary,,,, woah,,,,,

Every single one of these QoL elements I’ve mentioned function as a crutch for a player’s failing memory, but also Siffrin’s (similar to what I talked about in my previous essay on ISAT’s ludonarrative - the player and Siffrin are always in sync, even in how tutorials benefit them). Loop doesn’t know the player exists though (only the Change God does), so they do everything for Siffrin.

To keep Siffrin from forgetting. To help Siffrin focus on what’s important. To make Siffrin’s journey just a little bit less miserable. Loop directly improves ISAT’s QoL. For you. For Siffrin.

From Loop’s introduction:

Loop: “See, I’m useful! I’m very useful! That’s why I’m here, helpful Loop.” Siffrin: “Why are you helping me?” Loop: “…” Loop: “Because I think you should be helped.” Loop: “I won’t always have the answers, but… I think having someone on your side to talk to is better than dealing with this alone.” Loop: “Right?”

From Loop’s hangout:

“But it’s fine.” “Whether you believe me or not, I’m here to help you.” “So you can escape this loop.”

And finally, from the start of ACT 3:

Siffrin: “Are you really here to help me?” Loop: “Stardust…” Loop: “…” Loop: “Yes.” Loop: “If you can believe anything, believe that.” Loop: “I asked to be here, so I could help you.”

And I do believe them. Loop’s feelings on Siffrin are… complex, to say the least. They love Siffrin, and they hate him in equal measure. They’re jealous, and spiteful, but underneath everything…

In SASASAP, if you die to a Sadness thrice, you get this monologue:

(Sometimes, when you loop back here…) (In the corner of your eye, you can sometimes see someone that looks just like you.) (Is it a you from another loop? Remnants of your past failures?) (Are you going crazy?) (May they succeed where you cannot.)

[charliemwrites]

Sniff, sniff…. Woof.

Content: Voyeurism

“Johnny? Johnny, baby, come here!”

Your big wolf boy comes bounding in from the living room as you shut the front door, immediately rearing up to sniff at your neck and face and hands. Satisfied, he licks your cheek and drops down again.

“Alright, listen up, handsome.” You grab his cheeks, scritching along his jaw and grinning as his big blue eyes go dopey. “My sister and her husband are going to stay the night. You are going to be a polite boy because you love me and don’t want to give my sister anything to talk shit about. Yes?”

A sneeze that he (for once) aims away from you. You laugh, drop a kiss between his eyes.

“Good talk.”

As usual, he follows you through the house as you shed clothes and shoes and bags. You ramble about the grocery store and your day, mostly just to get it out so your headspace can be clear for the evening. Helps to have a little (relatively) listener following at your heels.

He camps out in the bathroom while you shower, licking the glass door until you scold him - per usual. And again when he tries to lick the clean water off your leg. Only starts getting restless and grumpy when he sees you change into “outside” clothes rather than pjs.

You groan as he tries to herd you away from your own closet. Must be mixed with a shepherding dog because he’s a damn pushy jerk.

“Enough, bud,” you sigh. “Look, I don’t wanna go much either. But it’ll be worse if I don’t.”

He mouths off at you, a new thing he’s started up that reminds you of a husky. Maybe you should get one of those doggy DNA tests.

“I know I know,” you coo, shimmying into a pair of pants that your sister won’t be able to tease makes your ass look flat. “I’d rather snuggle up and watch 90s vampire movies too. But I already said I’d go and this means I’ll be able to skip seeing her on her birthday.”

More grumbles, but at least he climbs up on the bed to pout. You finish dressing and head for the vanity - no way you can go out with your sister without makeup.

As you pass, you roll him over to scratch his belly - politely ignoring his reaction. God, you really need to get him in for a neutering. If you catch him humping one more pillow—

When it’s time to go, you drop down to give him one last hug.

“Be good, baby. I’ll be home soon with some new friends. I love you.”

—

After dinner, your sister’s husband suggests a bar. And, of course, it’s a sports bar. Man can’t go more than an hour or two without.

You and your sister chat while his eyes stayed glued to the screens. Well, she chats. You mostly just provide the audience she constantly craves, the validation she always needs.

At some point your excuse yourself to order another drink, weaving between the patrons and sighing at a chance to let your face rest for a moment. While you’re waiting, someone brushes up close behind you, startles you.

“Och, sorry, hen. Madhouse in here.”

You blink, tilt your head back to see a gorgeous pair of blue eyes shining down at you. Takes your breath away.

“Oh! Um, no problem, I get it.”

You try to scoot as much as you can - but it really is packed, especially at the bar - and the man takes the opportunity to occupy any free space you have.

Not that you’re complaining. He’s got the type of face they put on magazines with hooks like “sexiest man alive.” A killer grin as he winks down at you, arm bracing on the bar.

“Buy ya a drink for bein’ so rude?”

You’ve barely gotten the start of, “oh it’s alright,” out before he’s signaling the bartender. His stature and presence gets him instant service though, so you let it go, fidgeting restlessly.

Even his voice sounds like a sin worth committing. He’s too attractive. Too handsome to not know it; and definitely too handsome to be chatting you up and ordering you a drink.

“You here with anyone?” he asks with an edge that makes your spine prickle. Yet you almost feel like you imagine it. His tone is normal, his expression hasn’t changed and yet. Something subsonic in the timbre of his voice, maybe.

“My sister and her husband,” you reply.

“No husband of your own?”

You try to laugh, it comes out strained and awkward. “Ah, the only man in my life has four legs.”

Instead of looking annoyed by the brush off, his eyes spark.

“Dog?”

“Yup!” And okay, alarms in your head aside, you’re always happy to talk about Johnny. He’s a safe topic. You fish your phone out of your back pocket and show him your lock screen.

The man takes a quick look at the screen, an odd, private smile flicking across his face. There and then gone, before those intense eyes are locked on you again.

“He friendly?”

You laugh a bit, perk up as the bartender returns with your drink. “Not with men. Thanks for buying!”

as you turn to go, he grabs your hip. Not hard, or even too low. But you gasp quietly, the heat of his palm searing through your clothes.

“Name’s soap, by the way.”

Infinitely more nervous now, you stutter out your own and then retreat to your sister and her husband.

Spend the rest of the night pretending not to watch Soap. He doesn’t return the courtesy, eyes trained on you, lurking around the bar. So visible it seems to only you. Something about the way the light catches his eyes reminds you of when Johnny senses a threat. When he gets low and growly, hair standing on end, eyes focused.

Soap looks like he’s hunting you.

Thankfully, your sister complains about the noise after an hour or so and the three of you leave. You’re relieved to be going home.

As you step inside, you call for Johnny again.

“Wait, who the hell is Johnny?” your sister’s husband asks, an odd look on his face. “You’re living with someone?”

You snort a bit. Does he seriously not remember you talking about your dog?

“Yeah,” you joke, “he’s the love of my life, my one and only—”

You hear the clack of the doggy door and call out again. Johnny trots in panting.

“Did you just come in from a run?” you chuckle, putting a hand out in greeting.

He comes right up to you, presses his nose to the spot where “Soap” grabbed you and snuffles.

“I know, I smell wrong,” you soothe.

He grumbles and licks at your shirt, but you gently nudge him away, turning as your sister scoffs.

“You still do that thing where you talk to them like people?” She asks. “Don’t you think that’s… childish?”

“Johnny’s basically a person in a human body,” you reply, laughing. “You’ll see.”

“Dogs shouldn’t have human names,” her husband pipes up, reaching for Johnny.

“No, wait—”

Johnny snaps just shy of his fingers and puts himself bodily between you two.

“Easy!” you yelp, hooking your hand in his collar. “Sorry, I meant to warn you - Johnny’s shy with men.”

“He almost took my bloody hand off!”

“He’s just protective. Johnny, heel.”

He stops snarling, but plants himself at your feet right there, eyes sharply trained on your brother in law. Your sister snorts.

“How are you supposed to get men back here, then?”

You jump as Johnny barks, a full deep one that your rarely ever hear. Your sister startles too, then scowls.

“I don’t,” you answer, shaking your head. “Anyway, let me just get the sheets for the spare room and we can call it a night.”

Johnny stays close at your heels the entire time, though you swear he throws a nasty glance back at your sister’s husband.

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Masterlist

[divinesangel]

— how does your destined person feel about you right now? [detailed]

pm me for an affordable, in-depth personal reading! — 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞!

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏

current energies: it's quite likely that this person is going through a lot right now, which is causing them to overthink and have so much on their mind. they seem to have been overthinking many things in their life that they’re still trying to figure out. they’re probably talking to others and getting advice, but deep down, they know it’s something they have to work on and figure out on their own. a lot has been weighing on their mind, especially when it comes to connections. it’s likely that they’re ending cycles or bringing closure to situations that have caused them pain or emotional turmoil. they want to put an end to that, and now they’re carrying the burdens that come with closure and moving on. even though it might sometimes feel overwhelming, they understand that this isn’t the end of the world. they believe that better things are ahead, and as long as they stay persistent and know how to play their cards, they’ll get through this. there are many things in this person’s life that they want to move on from because they know it’s not doing them any good, and it’s just affecting their mental health and well-being. these days, they’ve been focusing on taking care of themselves, paying attention to their own feelings and their heart. but sometimes, they feel conflicted about how to feel about certain people. it seems like they’ve gone through some really painful moments with others, and now they’re unsure how to think about it all. part of them craves a sense of justice, wanting those people to get what they deserve. but there’s also a part of them that’s naturally kind, trying to brush it off and move forward.

feelings: this person wants to be with you as soon as possible. they’re really excited to meet you and already have so much love for you. they constantly wonder who their distant person is, what you’re going to be like, how you’ll look, and if you’ll love them as much as they’ll love you. there’s so much affection and tenderness they hold for you, and it’s something they can’t wait to give. they don’t just want to give you their emotional side, but also their material side. they want to provide for you, give you everything you need, and buy you whatever you want. i feel that once you meet, this person will be quick to show you how they feel. they won’t just express it through words or affection but also through actions. this is someone who will make you feel deeply loved and show you just how much you deserve it. they’re very caring, very nurturing, especially when it comes to a connection as strong as yours, which feels almost like a soulmate bond. they’ll feel even more sure about pursuing you and moving forward with you. you make this person feel incredibly stable. when they think of you, there’s this sense that they’re already complete, that they’ve become the person they want to be. the thought of you brings them a deep sense of stability, likely because they already know this connection will be something special. they feel happiness when they think about it, and they know that meeting you will be a turning point in their life. they’re aware that they’re going through some rough patches in their life right now, but the thought of you brings them so much peace. they know that when they finally get to be with you, they’ll find the happiness they’re searching for.

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐

current energies: this person has been learning to feel more comfortable with themselves and finding contentment with what they have. it seems they’ve recently gone through situations that left them with a sense of lack, and now they’re trying to put the pieces back together. because of this, they’re beginning to realize their potential and finding emotional satisfaction from within, rather than seeking it externally. it’s likely that they’ve had a recent epiphany—a lightbulb moment—that shifted their perspective. they’re determined to leave behind past pains and situations they no longer want to deal with. this self-realization, that they deserve more and deserve to be happy, has sparked active changes in their life. they are very perseverant, and when they want something or are sure about it, they fight for it. they won’t let go unless they no longer feel like pursuing it or something significant happens. i feel like these days this person has been feeling quite confused about whether to pursue certain things or to let them go. it seems like they’re having a hard time distinguishing between what’s worth fighting for and what no longer has a solution. since they’re someone who really believes in fighting for what they want, it clashes with the idea of letting go. however, they’re starting to realize that there are aspects of themselves they need to change before moving forward with something new. right now, they’re in a phase of trying to understand that.

on the other hand, they’re also focused on creating a better environment for themselves, which involves their personal connections and friendships. they’re paying close attention to their circle of friends and acquaintances. it seems like there are some connections that have changed and no longer feel the same. they’re trying to figure out how to take action in this situation and how to let go of these feelings. deep down, they know that to feel better about these connections, they’ll need to let certain people go. overall, they haven’t been feeling their most stable, and they’re working through this to make things work in their favor. i'm hearing they might be attending someone's wedding too.

feelings: this person feels that your connection could be quite life-changing for them. it’s one of the things that draws them to you and makes them feel a deep, perhaps unconscious, attraction. however, when it comes to love, they might not be in the best place right now. they’ve grown up in an environment where those around them may not have been the best influences. because of this, they might have some toxic tendencies or have been involved with toxic people that they still need to move on from.

this awareness makes them think about you a lot. they are very conscious of the people they surround themselves with and the issues they need to leave behind. they worry that you might not like them because of their past or because of who they are now. they often find themselves wondering, "will they leave me once they get to know me better?" or "will they not want me because of my past behavior?" these worries definitely cross their mind whenever they think about you. in their heart, they truly want to give you everything they can, but they wonder if you will view this connection as fair, or if you’ll see their life as one that has been lived fairly. they don’t want to overwhelm you with all these details, so it’s likely they’ll open up to you gradually over time. they know some of their past actions weren’t ideal, and they feel regret and a bit of shame about that. they just hope you’ll still see them in a positive light once they share everything with you.

they’ve already been thinking about becoming the best version of themselves, but they need a bit of support or motivation to fully move out of their current mental state. they’ve been planning how to make these changes, so it’s just a matter of time before they put their plans into action. they’re really looking forward to this connection and have thought about you many times. they’re trying to stay optimistic about your future together and envision the best possible scenario. they’re aiming to avoid any negative thoughts, and they feel that once they’re around you and can communicate more, they’ll be able to express themselves fully and honestly. "i don't want to let them go" is how they'll feel.

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑

current energies: this person has recently wrapped up a very challenging situation. they’re going through a lot of endings right now, which is a bit uncomfortable for them, but they understand it’s for their highest good. it seems they’ve just ended a connection with someone they cared about deeply. however, they discovered that this person had been deceptive or dishonest, and once these secrets came to light, they decided to cut ties abruptly. this person is very confident and tends to sever connections quickly when they feel wronged or when a situation is no longer beneficial. they don’t dwell on their feelings but focus more on the other person’s actions.

right now, they’re very practical and are concentrating on their stability and finances. they seem to be working hard on a project or business venture that’s aimed at increasing their financial security. this project might be in its early stages but has been on their mind for some time, or it's an idea they’ve wanted to bring to life for a while. they have a strong grasp of how to navigate life and make the most of each situation, which can be quite impressive. they’re aware that not all situations will be ideal, but they believe it depends on how one reacts and how much one lets it affect them. in addition, their perspective of the world might be influenced by their travels or interactions with people from various countries, which is likely tied to their business. they’re feeling very content with their current state and the place they’re in. they’re fulfilled with how they’ve handled things and how everything has turned out so far. however, as i mentioned at the beginning of the reading, they’re going through something emotionally. being a hard-working and somewhat workaholic person, this might serve as their escape. they’re so adept at what they do and at coming up with great ideas that their work becomes a refuge from their emotional struggles. the validation they receive from others provides a sense of relief and makes them feel better about themselves. when they get positive feedback or when their projects succeed, it feels like the most important thing to them, overshadowing everything else. while they’re currently satisfied with their position, i wonder how much more they can handle, as they’re already carrying some burdens.

feelings: when it comes to their feelings towards you and your connection, they feel a strong desire to manifest whatever it is that you want. they are working to feel as stable as possible so they can give you what you deserve, both emotionally and physically. however, there’s a part of them that questions whether they truly deserve someone like you. they wonder if they are worthy of you and this has them feeling quite conflicted.

they have strong feelings for you, but they also grapple with self-doubt about whether they’re deserving of this connection. they want to keep you close, not in a possessive way, but out of a genuine desire to protect and cherish you. having been alone for a long time or having had less fulfilling connections in the past, they worry about whether they will know how to handle a relationship with someone like you.

stability is very important to them, and they value it not only for themselves but also for their partner, especially emotionally. when it comes to your upcoming meeting, they will likely feel overwhelmed and stressed, but this is more about their own nerves than anything related to you. they will be anxious about what to say or do, but they are also looking forward to seeing how things will unfold. they believe that things will happen in their own time, and once you both achieve closure and fulfill what you need in your lives, everything will fall into place and manifest as it should.

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 !

hi! it's daphne here.

i'm currently offering personal readings for €7 and soulmate readings for €14 so don't hesitate to send me a private message if you're interested!

thank you for being here!

[xazse]

im begging anyone LITERALLY ANYONE to write any sort of wanderer x reader x xiao love triangle (either poly amorous or not), i love thinking about what their impressions of each other would be and how they would go about trying to one up the other guy (since i feel like there would be an intense feeling of rivalry between the two)!!

I know you JUST submitted this but I had to write abt this. Dont worry to my other requests I will get to you my loves!

FEM!READER WITH BOOBS

Xiao and Scaramouche don’t really get along when it comes to you, they’re always at each others throat about who gets to be balls deep in you or who gets your pretty lips wrapped around their cocks.

They make it a habit to get you alone, Xiao not very talkative will seduce you with his actions: bringing you whatever you want or making you whatever you want, anything to get you in the mood.

Scaramouche just outright declared what he wants, he wants you on your knees, back arched and ready to go? He’ll immediately let you know. He wants you to jerk him off right in the living room, not caring about how loud his moans are.

Scaramouche makes it a habit to lock the bedroom door anytime he’s managed to get you alone. Who cares if Xiao comes knocking at the door speaking about how much he needs you, ignore him!

Xiao doesn’t play like he does, he’s a bit sweeter and more mature, if he gets you alone he’ll let Scaramouche in but won’t allow him your cunt, thats fair at least in his eyes.

One day they’re both messily kissing all over you, saliva decorating your skin creating a thin layer. Kuni is inbetween your thighs, sucking on your nipples or has been for the past couple of minutes, Xiao is underneath you, holding you softly and attacking your neck, you can feel both their throbbing lengths pulsing against you, so needy and all for you.

Xiao maneuvers his hands to pull his underwear down just a little to free his thick cock, you can’t see with Scaramouche blocking your view but you know he’s dribbling lots of precum, you’ve been insistent that you needs lots of prep for what reason they don’t know.

He’s stroking himself slowly, not wanting to cum early, he’s been begging to cum inside all day, so has kuni, you know if you let one go before the other it’ll cause issues so you’ll take both of them just to not hear bickering all night.

You urge Scara to take his cock out as well, a little clouded and with lusty eyes he takes out his veiny long cock, also beginning to stroke himself. Impatient as he is, he hurriedly rips off your panties: you’ll definitely scold him for that later.

He says he can’t wait any longer and begs for your permission, you give him a nod and he’s already pushing the blunt tip in your wet hole, you can hear Xiao already needily whining in protest but you’re quick to grab his cock at an awkward position and push his cock in as well.

They’re both taken aback but don’t ask you to stop, the feeling of their cocks brushing up against one another definitely isn’t unwanted, this paired with your gummy walls feels so fucking good. They can both feel each other cocks twitching which in turn makes for some pretty noise leave their lips. You aren’t fairing any better, feeling full and also amazing, your head lulls to the side, Xiao takes it upon himself to decorate your face with kisses.

When they start moving it’s just a different story, they move in tandem, thick cocks creating friction and making you wetter by the second, your cunt clamps down on them every interval.

You can all really feel each other, every stroke provides you lot with more and more ecstasy, Xiao is the first to cum with a Loud yelp that settles into a low cry, Scaramouche is still pushing and dragging his cock along your walls and Xiao’s cock. He realizes that he can’t pull out until Kuni finishes, so he’s stuck whining and biting your ear until then. Scaramouche rubs your soaked clit in fast circles, admiring how you twitch and fumble around as your body accepts what’s about to happen.

He also pries your thighs all the way open, still fucking into you until that familiar spasm in his stomach signals to himself that he’s dumping his thick load right into you. Still rubbing your clit you cum but not without squirting just a tiny bit, it’s still something.

They both manage to pull out, Xiao is out like a light and Scara flops beside you on the bed, open mouthed panting and already opening his mouth to brag about how he made you squirt, they both did but you won’t ruin his high just yet.

[luveline]

Hey Jade!

I can’t remember if you’ve already written this or not but if not, could you please write bombshell!reader finally joining the BAU? I wanna know how Spencer and everyone else reacted to her finally joining

Thanks lovely :) hope you’re doing well

ty for requesting 💌 fem, 1.3k

The trek from the SCU to the BAU is familiar. If you aren’t being asked to consult, or occasionally brought along on sex crime specific cases, you’ll make any excuse to get there. A broken laptop, an updated reading list, a good cup of coffee. Spencer Reid always provides. 

He just doesn’t get it. You think about it every time you see him, but he can’t understand how nice, kind, and pretty he really is, or he wouldn’t be so shy, and he wouldn’t act surprised to have you seeking him out. 

He’s sitting now behind his desk with a hand over his mouth. You can tell he’s smiling despite it, a warm light to his brown eyes as you approach. 

“Hello,” you say. 

“Hi.” He sniffs, curling his hand into a fist under his nose. His smile is a thousand times more obvious as he tries to hide. “You okay?” 

“Hotch asked me to come. You don’t know what it’s for?” 

His smile finally softens before fading to a more neutral expression. “I have no idea.” 

You wipe your hands down over your hips. “Well, I’m sure it’ll be fine, and not at all like last time.” Hotch has never been angry with you before. It was strange. “I hope he still likes me.” 

“What are you talking about? Of course he does.” 

“What am I talking about?” You agree. “Kiss for luck?” 

“Pucker up,” Morgan says, a coffee cup in hand. Without coffee you’re sure this office would cease to function. 

You shoot him a smile, Spencer a promising look to return, and start up the stairs to the office. You watch your shoes on each step, their shiny black, and you try not to be nervous, but Spencer was acting strange and Hotch has enough reason to revisit his anger. 

Your best defence is a smile, you decide. If you act like nothing happened, you won’t get another rehashing of your mistakes. 

You knock his door. “Hotch? It’s me.” 

“Come in, please.” 

You turn the handle and feel the weight of the door against your elbow as you enter. Hotch sits behind his desk, as usual, but when you’re a few paces from the desk he stand up, which is unusual. 

“How are you?” he asks.

Your eyes widen against your will. “I’m fine. How are you, Hotch? How’s your sweet boy? Did he have fun at little league?” 

“Jack’s perfect. I’m good, I need to talk to you about something.” 

“I assumed.” You wait. Then, neck growing warm, “If it’s about last time, I'm still so sorry.” 

“I’m not going to get angry at you twice for a mistake. But no, that’s not what you’re here for.” 

He’s making you nervous. Is this a guessing game? You lean into your nerves and put your arms behind your back, grasping your wrist as you tilt your head ever so slightly to the side. “It’s not about Spencer, is it? I told you, he’s just a friend. A good friend. But I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise my chances.” 

“It’s about that.” 

You stand straighter. “I do like him,” you confess, which Hotch already knows. Everybody seems to know except for Spencer. It’s not like you’re in love with him, just you could be, maybe. “But I’m really not– I would never do anything–” You start again. “I want this job more than anything. I know I flirt and I make more jokes than I should, but I take the work seriously, I promise. You guys are the most impressive people I know and I might feel like you’re a friend to me, Hotch, but you have to know how much I admire you. I admire Spencer, and I’d never let my feelings impede my professional ability.” 

“Y/N, I’m not reprimanding you for anything.” 

You swallow awkwardly. “You’re not?” 

He raises his eyebrows and turns to his desk. There’s a packet waiting across his outgoings, which he picks up and gives to you. “I need you to fill these in, first and foremost.” 

He’s smiling. Why is he smiling? 

You peer inside cautiously. Chest suddenly aching, thinking, It isn’t what you want, don’t break your own heart, you pull out the very top sheet from inside. FBI letterhead greets you. 

Facilitation of department transfer for Y/N L/N from the Sexual Crimes Unit to the Behavioural Analysis Unit, as requested by Unit Chief Supervisory Special Agent A. Hotchner and approved by Unit Chief S. Peterson. 

You lay it on top of the envelope. All the papers whine under your tight hand. “You requested it?” you ask. 

“Months ago.” 

“And Sandy said yes.” 

“Strauss, finally. If you sign them today, Penelope’s promised to expedite your processing, whether that’s fair or not. Your desk is ready.” 

“Hotch,” you whisper, not without excitement, but sound hard to summon, “are you serious? You’re not messing with me?”

“You deserve it. You have for a long time.” 

You squeeze your eyes closed. For five long seconds, you stand there, and you think about how hard you’ve worked and how badly you’ve wanted this, and how much faith everybody’s had in you the whole time. You’re so thankful. For Hotch, Morgan, and especially for Spencer Reid. 

“Don’t get upset,” Hotch says, taking your arm. He gives it a good squeeze. It’s so friendly and kind you consider jumping up to wrap your arms around him, but you restrain yourself. 

“Thank you,” you say quietly, pressing the packet to your chest. 

“You’re welcome. I didn’t mind fighting for you.” 

“I need to go and tell Spencer.” 

“Spencer, your good friend.” 

Your laugh comes in fractures from a sudden deep breath. “My good friend,” you agree. “Hotch, thank you. Thank you, I’m gonna go tell Spencer. I’ll be right back.” 

“It’s fine. Just make sure you finish those forms before lunch.” 

You leave with some dignity. You close Hotch’s office door, and you walk to the balcony and look down at Spencer where he’s waiting for you. His hair falls against his neck, his head angled up, and he’s smiling so hard he must’ve already known what you were summoned into the office for. 

You rush down the stairs. He, in all his loveliness, stands in time to open his arms. “I can’t believe it,” you say, your laugh like a ring as you lean against him. He holds you tight and hugs right back, forcing you to bend under his weight. “Spencer.” 

He pulls away just as quickly. “Tell me,” he says. 

“I’m gonna be part of the BAU.” It’s so insane to finally say aloud. 

Spencer looks extremely, achingly happy for you, but his second hug still surprises you. Your nose ends up pressed to his hair, strands of it falling from behind his ear as his palm cups your shoulder. 

You close your eyes. Spencer laughs, his lips a hair's width from your cheek. 

Your excitement grows too much. You squirm away from him and wrap your hands around yourself, holding in a girlish, giggly squeal. “I did it. I can’t believe I did it.” 

He takes your hand. You barely notice. “Why can’t you believe that? You’re amazing. You work hard and you didn’t give up.” 

Morgan returns from wherever he’s been with Emily and Garcia in tow. “There she is!” he says. 

It’s possibly the best round of hugs you’ve ever had in your life. The little congratulations cupcake they present you with is the sweetest you’ve ever tasted. Spencer puts a makeshift name tag on your desk and you don’t bother pretending your eyes haven’t filled with tears, but nobody cares or minds. 

[ma1dita]

a wish your heart makes

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 1.4k

summary: (established relationship) The one where you share dreams, burn cookies, and it still reminds him of home. You try to do something nice for your boyfriend and everything goes wrong, or so you think. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

a/n: I thought about May Castellan, alone in her kitchen, baking cookies and making sandwiches for a son who would never come ho—OH FUCK OFF, UNCLE RICK. sidenote this haunted me.

(posted 1/26/24 unbetad)

—

Luke’s dreams were always different from yours. 

Both when he’s awake and holding your hand up until sleep finally rips him away from your earthly embrace, he’s always been certain of who he was and what he wants to achieve. To be a hero providing salvation for the needy, to be a half-blood son worth the love of a god, and to be a fierce soldier, leading his troop into battle for glory. These are the thoughts he routinely pounds into his brain, so much so that anyone who knows him knows of his aspirations.

You don’t think you’ve ever met anyone so insistent on wanting to be remembered. Luke wants to leave a legacy worth dying for, worth talking about for millenia to come. And your boy persists, despite the trials of life, the ignorance of his father, and the strings of the Fates.

Your dreams, however, were always much simpler. 

Cuddled under your covers and brushing your lips against Luke’s forehead to quell the growing unease that occupies his brain, you whisper what you deeply wish for.

“We’re getting old,” you mumble, and the breath of his laugh tickles your ear. He lazily runs his nose against the slope of your collarbone, sighing when he finally hears the steady beat of your chest, “We’ve definitely surpassed the average life expectancy of a typical demigod. Look at us…” he jests.

Your breath jumps in amusement as you feel his lips against your sternum, and then your boyfriend is smiling against your heart, using you for comfort as you both pass the time waiting for Hypnos to come calling.

“In a year, we’ll be nineteen…And I know you never wanted to stay here forever, so… What’s next?”

You hold in a bated breath, always unsure of where to place yourself in rank of his priorities. Who were you if not his biggest supporter?

Luke contemplates for a moment in the silence of your bedroom. It’s much easier to think and have more adult… conversations… without the many meddling children of cabin 11 always asking for one more lullaby, one more glass of water, and one more tuck-in goodnight. Here in the privacy of your room, he gets to be a boy void of his responsibilities besides hiding under his girlfriend’s duvet, giving her another shirt of his to wear, and kissing her until Apollo’s rays of light gently help you wake.

“You tell me, Trouble. What does the future have in store for us?”

Us.

He’s sweet to indulge in your fantasies like this, and you stroke your fingers through his curls as you speak, ‘I think it’d be nice to go to college. Made it this far, so maybe being normal won’t be so hard…”

A soft noise leaves his throat, urging you to continue as you bite your lip and smile.

“Maybe someday, we could get a house. One on top of a hill. I don’t need much, something like the Big House, but one we can call home.”

You can feel the teeth of his sleepy grin against your skin as he whispers the next words into your heart.

“We could do that. House with big bay windows, and the smell of my mom’s chocolate chip cookies in the air. Sounds nice, baby.”

And it does.

Luke’s eyes flutter shut shortly after, but your mind is awake with how to make the dream you now share a reality. Perhaps you couldn’t give him glory, or pray hard enough to Hermes so that he’d talk to his son, but you reckon that chocolate chip cookies would be easy enough. 

—

At least, it was supposed to be—until you set off the smoke alarm again.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” 

Clouds of grey are billowing from the communal kitchen oven after your multiple attempts of trying to get this right. The dryads had both partially given up on the havoc you wrecked upon their workspace as well as your increasing frustration towards them. It wasn’t their fault, you knew that—but as a perfectionist who followed the recipe to a t, how was it possible that everything was still going wrong? The first batch, you got too excited and mixed all the ingredients together, making them lumpy and inconsistent. The second batch was over-creamed, and you had to scrape them off the tray, and with this one… well you had the oven setting on a bit too high.

You sigh deeply, pressing the palms of your hands into your eyes as you try to will away the mania creeping up your neck. Being the daughter of the god of insanity was hard, having to consistently control your emotions for the sake of others. Taking a shaky breath, you stare blankly at the darkened cookies, close to being burned to a crisp. The jingle of the windchime against the door rings across the room and you barely hear it until you feel Luke’s hands skate past your waist to go open a window.

“What’d you get into now, Trouble? Been looking for you,” he says, coughing lightly from the smoke.

You groan, trying to cover the mess behind you on the counter and accidentally catching your arm on the hot tray, making you flinch.

“Ow! Ugh, babe, you’re not supposed to be here yet! I thought you were still sparring…”

Your boyfriend approaches you, squeezing your arm to examine if you’ve gotten hurt and tugging you towards him.

“That was an hour ago—how long have you been here, baby?” Luke pulls you into his arms, placing a kiss on your warm wrist, instantly soothing your anxiety until you see his eyes meet your latest failure.

“You bake now?”

“Clearly not, Luke, I’m sorry…I tried but I kept getting it wrong and then I got mad at myself for fucking up something so…” your voice weakens, tears welling in your eyes again thinking you’ve disappointed him.

Luke steps away from you and towards the kitchen counter, warm cookies browned to a crisp. He reaches out to pick one up before you can stop him, crunching down on it, the bittersweet taste filling his mouth as he sniffs.

Just like his mother would make them, through her madness and all.

He’s transported back to a memory of a house with big bay windows, kind of like the one you two dreamt up last night, but he’s nine and sitting at the kitchen table drinking Kool-Aid while his mom makes peanut butter sandwiches. May Castellan forgets the cookies in the oven again, and for a moment, Luke forgets that the last time he saw his mother was a lifetime ago. 

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until he feels your fingertips brushing away the saltwater from his cheeks.

“Didn’t mean to make you cry, angelface, I’m sorry…” you mumble, but stop speaking when you see him take another bite.

“They’re great.”

“What?”

He chomps on another singed cookie, his lips quirking into a soft smile. Luke’s not going to let you throw the rest of this batch out. Chuckling weakly, he lifts you onto the kitchen counter as he slots himself between your legs, rough hands patting your thighs.

“Well, they’re not great. But they’re perfect. Just the way I remember them,” he smiles, kissing the furrow in your brow. You don’t bother trying to comprehend his statement, happy that you didn’t mess up a memory he holds dear. 

Luke wonders if maybe he’s been blessed by his father after all, to have such extreme luck to exist at the same time as you. He doesn’t answer to the gods, to fate, but he does answer when you call his name, and settles into your arms. Love is an action after all, uncontained by just words, and he knows you tried your best, which makes it more than enough.

“She would’ve loved you, I’m sure of it,” he says rubbing his nose against yours before you can interject again, “I love you, so I know she would’ve too.”

Luke presses a tender kiss against the palm that caresses his jaw, before meeting you in the middle and finding your lips. It’s a dance you two have memorized, sweet and breathless as you meld both of your grins together. To him, you taste like chocolate chips and feel like home.

“I love you too, angelface. Almost burned the kitchen down for you,” your chuckle is cut off when he goes to press against your pout again hungrily, tracing patterns against the soft skin of your thighs as he just eats you up. The sound of your moans escapes between kisses as you wind your legs around his waist and it dampens the sound of the kitchen timer when it goes off. 

(You forcibly have to detach from Luke’s embrace, much to his displeasure so that you don’t burn the next batch too.)

—

"Your name is humming inside my chest. I think this is what it means to love. I think this is what it means to be living." -Emma Bleker

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[j2hoes]

Intimate Treasures. (Steve Harrington x Adult Store Worker!Reader)

Word Count: 4.5K

Y/N works in an adult store and Steve can't seem to stay away.

Warning: Smut, p in v sex, cunnilingus (m and f receiving), dirty talk, knife kink, sex toys, mature language

Weekdays were always slow at Intimate Treasures, most people either working their regular 9-5’s or simply too embarrassed to be caught in an adult store mid week. Opting to discreetly shop on a Friday or Saturday night, hoping nobody will catch them. I often find myself amused by the actions of our customers, ninety percent of which seem to be ashamed of themselves for purchasing such ‘dirty’ products, as they like to call them.

Upon the opening of the store, many citizens of Hawkins were vocal of their displeasure at the presence of such a place. Believing that there was no place in the town for us. They argued that by opening within the Starcourt Mall, we would be indoctrinating their children into believing that sex is something that should be enjoyed and explored freely. Rather than an act of love that should only be taking place once married for the sole purpose of reproduction. There have been numerous occasions when I’ve argued with people about this, lecturing them on the importance of sexual liberation and safety rather than shaming people for their choices.

It was during one of these arguments that I met him for the first time. Wrapped up in a heated debate with none other than the local priest who was offering to save me from hell, I almost missed the mop of fluffy brown hair that hesitantly crossed the threshold of the store. He was trying to act casual, as though being here was no big deal, but I could tell he was nervous. Fumbled movements causing him to almost knock over a display of free condoms. To which he pocketed a few in the shorts of his little sailor outfit.

“What you are doing here in this store is sinful, I am only looking out for you young lady.” My eyes snap back to the priest who is glancing around the place in utter disgust, one hand gripping the cross around his neck, the other clutching a Bible.

“If you think this is sinful, you should see what I do in bed, old man.”

Despite losing sight of the sailor, I hear a muffled laugh coming from down one of the aisles and I can’t help but feel pleased that I’m not necessarily alone in this argument.

“You could be doing so much more with your life! You don’t need this filth, the Lord can set you on the right path if you would just let me cleanse you of your impurity.” The man pleads, his words failing to provide the impact he is hoping for.

Resting my elbows on the countertop, I lean towards the priest, hoping he pays attention to me. “Listen, I know for a fact that the Bible doesn’t specifically mention anything about sex toys or masturbation and not all of us are lucky enough to be in a relationship. Though I’m sure your wife isn’t exactly thrilled with her sex life.” 

He gasps at my words, shuffling towards the door whilst muttering about ‘young dirty girls of today’. 

“Be sure to send your wife in, her first vibrator is on me!”

As the door swings closed behind him, I let out a sigh of relief. Completely fed up of having the same arguments over and over again. My eyes fall back down to the stack of boxes by my feet, filled to the brim with new lingerie sets that need putting out on the shop floor. 

Not wanting to waste any time, I quickly add the inventory to the system before hanging the black latex to the hangers. I won’t deny, it’s a gorgeous set. Shiny black bralette, so thin that the strap of fabric is only big enough to cover the nipple, with a matching thong, which also happens to be just as small. It leaves very little to the imagination, and I would be tempted to spend my paycheck on it, had I anybody to wear it for.

Finding a spot in one of the aisles, I begin to hang the various sizes on the wall. Careful to make sure that they’re all in size order so that they’re easy to find. A shuffle of feet towards the end of the aisle pulls me from my thoughts, the sailor intently staring at different wand vibrators. Every few seconds picking one up before putting it back with a shake of his head.

“Need some help?” I ask, hanging the last of the lingerie up and strolling towards him.

His eyes widen as I stand next to him, a deep red blush rising on his cheeks and I can’t help but smile softly at his awkwardness. I’m never one to assume, though I’m fairly certain this may be his first time in any adult stores. If his blush is anything to go by.

“Sorry, I just don’t really know what I’m supposed to be looking for.”

“Something for your girlfriend?” I push, the question slips off my tongue easily, one I generally ask all the male customers that look in need of assistance, yet something in me is praying that he answers with a no.

I won’t deny that he’s attractive, even with the unfortunate attire that he appears to be sporting. He has a boyish look about him due to the costume, it’s cute and soft. However, his chestnut brown eyes are dark and I can tell that he is very much a man. 

“No, no girlfriend.” He admits, shoving his hands in his pockets, as he does so I’m able to catch a quick glimpse and notice the large size, backs of his palms displaying very prominent veins and I can’t help but squeeze my legs at the sight.

I’m not entirely sure what’s wrong with me. Never usually finding someone so attractive upon meeting for the first time, yet I’m practically drooling over the man in front of me. Even if I am putting on a very cool front.

“This is kind of awkward to admit but I wanted a vibrator you know for when I do have girls over. Just for something different I guess, in case my performance doesn’t cut it.”

I’m taken aback by his admission, most men refusing to believe they couldn’t be absolutely incredible in bed and insisting they’re only getting a toy because their wife wouldn’t stop pestering. To have a man so open about possibly not being perfect is refreshing and I realize I’m most definitely going to need some ice cold water then this customer leaves.

“Oh wow, that’s so thoughtful of you.” I tell him, moving slightly closer to the wall of products in order to assist him as best I can. Carefully, I grab a hot pink box, offering it to him. “So this is the newest wand vibrator we have, it has three different settings and a very long battery life. Trust me any girl would love it, it only took me about five minutes to cum when I used it for the first time.”

His eyes are focused on the box, teeth catching his bottom lip as he reads the information on the back. Eyebrows furrowed in concentration, truly reading everything about the product in his hands. Something about him intrigues me, whether it be the sailor outfit or the fact that he truly cares about his sexual partners, I’m not sure.

“I’ll take it, thank you.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The second time that the interesting sailor entered the store was only two days later. A Thursday evening, most of the stores in the mall were closing for the day, not us however. Opting to stay open later for more of a sense of privacy.

I’m idly flipping through one of the latest editions of Playboy magazine, staring down at the women sprawled out on the pages. They ooze confidence and sex appeal, something I could only dream of. Whilst I wouldn’t say I necessarily lack confidence, I most certainly do not have a string of guys desperate for my attention like the women in the magazine.

Completely wrapped up in my own thoughts as I turn the page, it’s only when a handful of products are placed on the countertop that I glance up. Boredom evident on my face, I’m counting down the minutes until I can close the store and head home for the night. That is, until I realize who the customer is.

“I didn’t think girls were into Playboy.”

Running a hand through his perfectly styled brown mane, he smiles at me as he speaks and I struggle to hide my excitement at his return. Though there is still a hint of red on his cheeks, he seems calmer this time, clearly less embarrassed by his visit.

“I don’t know if you can tell, but we don’t exactly stock academic reading material.” I joke, beginning to ring the items through the till.

Bottle of lube, metal handcuffs and black bondage tape. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no stranger to the kinky items that I ring out on a daily basis. Yet, something about the handsome sailor buying them has me weak at the knees and I have to look anywhere other than his face as I bag everything for him.

“Hey, I just wanted to thank you by the way.” Finally making eye contact with the man, I can’t hide my confusion at his words. “For your help last time, the vibrator was a big hit.”

“Oh right yeah. No problem at all, I’m glad I could offer my assistance.”

My smile falters, why am I jealous? I shouldn’t be jealous, I should be pleased that I could help another customer. Pleased that I’m allowing others to enjoy their wants and desires. However, something about knowing the stranger has already used my suggestion on another woman hurts. I sound desperate, it’s not like me to get hung up on a man I have only briefly interacted with twice and yet here I am.

“No seriously, it was the most intense hook up I’ve ever had and it’s all thanks to you.” He rummages through his pockets as he speaks, before sliding a piece of paper across the countertop.

Free ice cream on me - Steve.

“I work at Scoops Ahoy, figured I owed you one.”

“Now the sailor outfit makes sense.” I laugh softly, carefully folding the piece of paper and slipping it into my pocket.

“I know. It sucks, does not help me woo the ladies at all.” He smiles bashfully, handing me the cash to pay for the products.

“I think it’s cute.” The words fall out of my mouth before I can stop myself and my head drops to the floor, shaking it lightly, humiliated by what I just said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean, it’s just-”

“Good to know, I’ll see you later.” He looks at me expectantly, awaiting my name, as he makes his way towards the exit.”

“Y/N.”

“I’ll see you later Y/N.”

The moment the door closes behind him, I slide to the carpeted floor, head in my hands, afraid I may have just completely made a fool of myself in front of Steve. Doing my best to get over how mortified I feel, I quickly stride to the door and flip the sign to closed, not wanting to humiliate myself further in front of any more customers tonight, even if I am technically supposed to be open for another hour and a half.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I swear to God John, if you take these home and add them to your wank bank, I am going to kill you with my bare hands.”

This week seems to be one embarrassing event after the next, standing in nothing but the new micro black latex lingerie, I pose awkwardly in front of the only blank wall in the building, allowing the store owner to take photos of me on the polaroid. 

“Listen, we need to advertise what we have on offer, putting these pictures in the window is bound to gain more customers. Not to mention the added benefit of being served by the hot girl plastered in the window.” He states as though it's obvious, shoving a large kitchen knife into my hand which I take reluctantly. “Now spread those legs and lick the knife.”

Dropping to a squat, I spread my legs wide open, raising the knife to my mouth and seductively licking a stripe down the edge, careful not to cut myself. I may as well be completely naked with how little the lingerie covers, moving the knife to cover my vagina, I feign a gasp as he snaps another photo.

“You’re a natural, I’ll put these in the window and then I’m off for the night.”

I throw the knife on to the counter as I watch with folded arms how John sticks up the photos by the door. No doubt we’ll have complaints as each photo has me in increasingly compromised positions. It’s borderline pornographic.

Catching glimpses of the photos every couple of seconds, I can admit that I do look good. Incredibly good. They’re sexy and I feel empowered, it’s just a shame that they have to be on display for everybody to see. I’m all for being sexually liberated, I’m just not sure I believe everybody should be allowed to see me in such a vulnerable environment.

John leaves with a quick wave in my direction, flipping the sign on his way out so that I can finish my closing tasks in peace. Throwing myself down on the couch beside the window, I feel the shame start to flood my body. I begin to feel dirty and used, allowing my boss to take advantage of the fact that I have to follow his orders. 

Is this how the women in Playboy feel? Never once have I questioned if selling dirty magazines is unethical, believing that the woman in them felt free and proud that they can be so open and sexual. Now I’m starting to think that perhaps that isn’t the case.

With my head resting against the back of the couch and my eyes fixated on the uneven tiles on the ceiling, I hear the door click open beside me. Internally sighing, I don’t avert my gaze as I speak.

“We’re closed!” Voice snappier than I intended it to be, however, I make no effort to apologize.

“I know, I’m sorry. I was just hoping you’d be here.”

Swinging my head to face the direction of the door, I match the voice to the speaker. Steve stands awkwardly in the entryway, eyes trailing over my body as I stand to greet him. His mouth drops open slightly, rubbing a hand over his plump cherry lips. Glancing down, I remember that I’m still only wearing the lingerie and heat floods my body.

“Shit, sorry. One second.” 

I awkwardly jog to the back of the store as best I can in the heels strapped to my feet, I’m careful to wrap the long satin robe tightly around myself before making my way back over to Steve. Who stands in the same spot, unmoving. Eyes focused on me as I lean against the counter, arms crossed over my body in an effort to keep the robe covering me.

“So what can I help you with?” I ask, voice shaking every so slightly due to the interaction only moments ago.

“You look incredible in that.”

Although my eyes are firmly fixated on the ground, I smile nervously at his words. Hearing the shuffle of his feet, I look up only to see him standing just a couple of feet away from me. Clad in his sailor uniform once again, I allow myself to gaze over his physique. Thick legs that wear the shorts well, tight in all the right places. Arms defined showing off the muscles he has built. Pulling myself from my thoughts, I round the counter, hoping that the distance between us will ease the ache between my thighs.

“Steve I really should be closing, did you need help with something?”

I notice his eyes fall to his shorts, an impressive tent having formed and I have to hold my breath so as not to drop straight to my knees. Without a word, he slowly reaches across the counter, gently knocking the robe from my shoulders, exposing me to him once again.

“Just tell me to stop and I will.” He speaks quietly, so quiet I almost don’t catch it.

There’s a look of animalistic hunger on his face, one that is new to me. A stark contrast to the boyish smile he usually sports. Within seconds he’s leaning across the counter, capturing his lips with mine, one hand tightly grasping the back of my neck for support, whilst I grip at his shirt. His kiss is fuelled by passion and while it’s rough there’s a feeling of comfort that I can’t describe.

Without thinking, I’m striding back around the counter, pushing him backwards so that he flops down on the couch. Allowing me to take a seat on his lap, his erection firmly pressed in between my thighs, if I weren’t so focused on the moment, I’d most certainly be embarrassed by the wetness that begins to drip down my thighs.

Grinding myself slightly, I tug at his top, pulling it over his head quickly before throwing it behind me. His lips attach to my neck and I can feel him sucking gently, determined to leave a mark. A moan escapes my lips before I can stop myself, sparking a fire in his eyes as he grips my hips, guiding them to roll over his clothed length even harder.

His fingers move with haste as he works at the knot holding the flimsy bralette together, prying it off my body the moment the ties become loose. Grabbing his jaw, I pull his face back to mine, kissing him with burning desire as his hands move to palm my breasts. Our tongues entwine as his fingers brush over my nipple, releasing a soft gasp from me, to which he takes advantage. Dipping his head to suck and bite marks into my chest, I grab his hair tugging softly with every moan that he extracts from my body.

I can hear a groan escape his mouth, to which he covers it up quickly by dragging his tongue over my nipple. His hands playing with the other so as not to focus all his attention solely on one. Steve sucks gently, drawing unholy moan after moan from my body as I continue to feel the heat between our bodies.

Tipping my head back and pushing my breasts further into him, I find myself pushing a hand between our bodies. Slipping under his shorts and offering a short squeeze, causing the man to murmur a soft fuck as he continues to play with my nipples. From feeling his length in my hand, I can tell he’s big, bigger than I anticipated and much bigger than I’ve ever had. It scares me equally as much as it excites me.

It’s only when I begin to start delicately stroking up and down, that he pushes me to the side. Throwing me onto the couch gently so that I am laid on my back with him standing over me. As he smiles down at me, I can’t help but find the contrast between his soft smile and the dominance he has just been displaying amusing. A cheeky grin evident on my face.

“Where’s that knife?” He asks, fingers brushing over my throat as he stares down at me.

“Knife?” 

“From the pictures.”

Nodding my head towards the countertop, I watch eagerly as he grabs it, clenching my thighs together as my mind drifts to what he is going to do with it. Much to my surprise, he gently pulls my body up so that I’m sat upright, before settling on his knees between my thighs. Pushing the thong to the side, he presses the blunt side of the knife to my heat, trailing it between my folds. When he removes it, it glimmers with the slick that is now definitely dripping onto the couch.

“Lick it.” He raises the knife to my mouth and I brush my tongue against it as directed, immensely turned on by the entire situation. “You’re such a good girl.”

If his words didn’t make me moan, I do when his tongue makes contact with my clit. Head falling back as I close my eyes, focused only on the pleasure he is giving me. Despite not having my eyes open, I am acutely aware of Steve reaching up to my throat and holding the sharp side of the knife directly on my neck. Pushing it gently, though not so much to draw blood.

“God, you’re such a good girl.”

He switches between sucking and licking my clit, his free hand moving to push two fingers into me ever so slowly. The sounds are inherently sinful, the way he’s lapping up everything I can offer him is downright filthy and yet I feel like I’m in heaven. He devours me as though I’m his last meal, moaning against me, vibrations adding to the already exhilarating pleasure I’m experiencing. God, if this is what he can do with his tongue, there was no reason for him to buy a vibrator.

As he continues to push his fingers into me at an unruly pace, his tongue swirls circles against my clit, pushing me further and further to the edge. My stomach feels tighter and I try to close my thighs, though he reacts by pushing the knife closer to my throat, reminding me of its presence.

“Holy fuck.” I whisper, coil within me snapping and my legs twitching as he continues to lick up anything I have left.

With a pleased grin, he pulls himself away from me, rising to his feet and even in my post orgasm daze, I drop to my knees. Hurriedly pulling his shorts down to his ankles, I grab his erection with both hands. Mouth falling open in shock as I wrap both my hands around him.

“Jesus Christ.” My voice is almost silent yet Steve still hears me, chuckling at my words.

“You gonna be able to handle it?” He asks and I waste no time in nodding, gazing up at him, eyes filled with lust. “Yeah you are.”

In an attempt to calm my nerves, I hesitantly lick from the tip to the base, mouth watering as I hear Steve’s breaths become shakier. Wrapping my lips around the tip, I slowly begin to bob my head up and down, unable to take the whole thing but trying my hardest. I allow myself to coat his member with my spit, using my hands to stroke whatever I can’t fit in my mouth. He bucks his hips involuntarily with a deep guttural moan and I can’t help but gag, eyes watering as he hits the back of my throat. 

Pulling back with a gasp for air, I continue to stroke him with one hand, the other reaching for his balls. As I lean in to go for round two with my mouth, he grabs my hair softly, pulling me to look up at him. With mascara streaks running down my and saliva falling from one corner of my mouth, Steve smirks.

“I’d let you do that forever if I wasn’t so desperate to feel you.”

He helps me up, pushing my body over the countertop, before pulling the thong off me completely. I spread my legs for him, allowing him to see the effect he has on me, he circles my clit with one finger as his other hand grips his length. The tip smacking against me as he nervously rubs it over my hole. 

“Steve please, I want you so bad.” I beg, feeling myself clenching around nothing as he teases me.

“Fuck you’re perfect.” He cautiously pushes the tip into me, my hands gripping the wood of the countertop at the stretch and I squeal slightly, from a mixture of pleasure and pain. “My perfect girl.”

He continues to push himself inside of me for what feels like an eternity, just when I think I’ve taken him all, he pushes further. I’ll admit it has been a while and with Steve’s size, the stretch burns and yet I want nothing more than to feel him inside of me forever.

The gentleman he is, he stills once completely sheathed within me, awaiting confirmation from me that he is able to move.

“Steve please fuck me now.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice and instantly pulls himself out, almost completely before slamming back into me. Balls slapping against my clit in a way that teases me as he practically rips me in half. One hand pushes on my back, firmly holding me down against the counter as he continues to pound into me. The other grips my hip, knife still in hand though neither of us seem to pay any attention to it. 

“Fuck, I’ve wanted to do this since the moment I saw you.” He states between moans, slamming into me at an almost brutal pace.

I’m able to slip one of my hands between the wooden surface and my body, bringing it to the space between my legs and gently teasing my clit, resulting in a string of profanities falling from my lips. Steve notices this and bats my hand away, taking over himself. His fingers are like magic and combined with the way he is ramming himself into me, I can feel myself on the brink of cumming once again.

“Oh my god, Steve I’m so close.” 

Upon hearing this, he pulls my body upright, peppering kisses along my shoulders and the nape of my neck as he continues to drill into me at the same rough pace. Within a matter of seconds, I find vision spotting as I fall over the edge. Thighs sticky and wet with the remnants of my second orgasm. Steve allows me to fall back onto the countertop, continuing his assault on my vagina and the overstimulation drives me crazy. I’m a complete moaning mess and by the time he stills with a soft grunt, I have even more tears in my eyes.

“You’re so fucking perfect.” He murmurs, pulling out of me gently and pressing yet another kiss to my neck.

Turning around to face him, he has a lazy fucked out grin on his face and I can’t help but feel proud that I’m the reason for that smile. I smile at the thought, and at the feeling of his cum beginning to spill out of me and down my legs. Steve takes my hands in his and flops back onto the couch, wrapping his arms around me as I rest my head on his chest.

“You know I actually came here hoping I would work up the courage to ask you on a date but this was so much better.” He admits, nuzzling his nose into my hair.

“Wow so I missed out on a date?” I tease, hugging into him even tighter.

“I mean, we can always break into Scoops and go have that date now.” He suggests, voice soft as though he’s afraid I will reject him.

“That sounds perfect.”

[darkwitchoferie]

Pairing: Bang Chan/f!Reader, OT8/f!Reader

Summary: You start off as just Chan’s beloved girlfriend and end up in bed with all the members. It’s very smutty. I’m a little concerned for myself.

Tags: Smut, a little fluff, member x member action, unprotected p in v, not discussed but reader is on birth control, free use reader, consensual somnophilia discussed but not shown, cum eating, double vaginal penetration, mentioned anal between multiple members

A/N: I was originally going to submit this to @daydreams-after-dark for her birthday month, but then it got away from me (by so much) so I’m posting it and tagging her instead. It was sparked by one of the anons who sent in a scenario about being passed around the whole group.

So, Sorsha, firstly, Happy Birthday month! Secondly, I am so sorry for the loss in your family. It's hard any time of year, but for me personally, it always hit just a little harder around the holidays. I am so sorry you're going through this.

But, for a bit of distraction and birthday gift:

Picture this – you’re Chan’s girlfriend and he adores you, wants to give you absolutely anything and everything he has the capability of providing. He also loves to help his members, we all know that. So one night, after he’s fucked you stupid, you’ve lost track of exactly how many times he made you come, and you’re seconds away from falling asleep, your tongue is less guarded than usual and you confess to a fantasy about being a fuck toy for all the boys. He doesn’t get a chance to ask about it because you fall asleep before you finish your sentence.

He has an early schedule the next day, the kind where he leaves before you even wake up, and he can’t focus because now, every time he looks at the boys, he’s picturing them fucking you and he is a little surprised by how far from upset he is about it. This wasn’t something that had occurred to him and if it had, he might’ve thought he’d be too jealous to want it. But now, every time he hears their voices or glances over at them, he’s wondering if you’ll make the same sounds for them that you make for him. And if the dance they’re practicing has body rolls in it? Forget it, he’s gone. More than once he’s had to make them leave a room ahead of him so he can get his dick under control.

That evening, he gets back to your apartment completely frazzled and on edge. He doesn’t know if he wants to fuck you first, to get himself partly under control, or if he needs to talk to you about your confession. Somewhat unsurprisingly, considering the state you were in, he has to remind you of what you said. You don’t deny it, but now you look a little scared of his reaction. Is he gonna be all possessive like he gets sometimes? Does he think you’re disgusting? Does he think you’ve cheated on him? These thoughts are racing so fast in your head, that you don’t immediately notice how hard he is from thinking about it. A short while later, he has you on your back, buried deep in your cunt and he starts asking for more about this fantasy of yours.

You fell asleep, but I think there was more, wasn’t there baby?

Promise you won’t be mad?

How could I be mad at you?

It takes a while, but you get it all out. I want them to use me, whenever they want. Like when I’m wearing the necklace you gave me so you can fuck me whenever, wherever. I wanna do that for them too. Let them fuck me when I’m asleep after a long day like you do. Call me to the dance studio or recording studio ‘cause something’s not going right so you’re all stressed. Cockwarm Lixie or Minnie while he’s gaming. Fuck everybody during movie night. Ride Binnie’s thigh after a workout, when he’s still all sweaty. Let Jinnie paint me naked, then fuck him.

He can’t deny the way every scenario you bring up brings him closer to his own orgasm. After, when he’s laying on top of you, both trying to catch your breath, you whisper, most afraid of this part because you’re afraid he’ll think you think he’s not good enough. I’ll be happy with that, but I’d like to date them too, if they wanted.

You spend the next week or so talking about it, discussing boundaries – of which there are few and depend entirely on the individual guys – and how exactly you’re going to seduce each of them. You agree to a one-at-a-time approach, instead of just offering yourself up in the group chat, which had been your initial idea.

Jeongin, being Chan’s roommate, is first. The two of you “forget” when he’s going to be back so he “accidentally” walks in on you fucking in the living room. You reach out to him and Chan verbally invites him to join you and you get to learn exactly how good those fingers you’ve fantasied about feel in your pussy and your mouth while he fucks you.

Felix is next. You’re not sure what Chan told him to convince him to come over to your place instead of Chan’s, but they walk into your apartment for dinner together that turns into you splayed out on the kitchen table with Felix eating you for dinner and then confessing he’s had a fantasy about being between the two of you, one you’re both thrilled to fulfill for him.

Hyunjin was a little tricky. You weren’t sure he would go for it the same way Jeongin and Felix did, so you took him out first, seduced him slowly. Gentle touches to his arm or the nape of his neck the whole time you’re in the art museum, thighs pressed together at dinner after. He’s frazzled, feeling super awkward, and unsure what to think by the time you get to your apartment and then shocked when Chan asks how your date went, like it’s totally normal to date your friend’s girlfriend. The awkwardness vanishes the second you’re straddling his hips and sinking onto his cock, Chan watching from the chair in the corner of the room.

The gym the boys use at the company is being remodeled, really just getting new equipment so it’ll only be down for about two days. But Changbin’s complaining about not getting his cardio in on the right day, and how he doesn’t want to go for a run outside in the rain. So Chan suggests a different form of cardio. Which is how you find yourself face down, ass up, while the pair of them take turns until you’re a drooling, cum filled mess.

Seungmin is a bit more like Hyunjin, he’s not going to just jump into bed with you. He needs to be seduced and shown that he’s wanted first. He’s insecure, particularly if he starts comparing himself to the other members. So you look up schedules and plan to take him to a baseball game. He agrees, but calls Chan a few minutes later saying I think your girlfriend just asked me on a date.  She totally did. Did you not want to go out with her, ‘cause you should tell her now, she’s already picking out her outfit. His mouth goes dry at the shirt tight enough to show an imprint of your lace bra and short skirt combo you come out in when he comes to pick you up. You don’t know much about baseball, but he’s thrilled to explain it to you. And while, with a voice like his, you could happily listen to him read the dictionary to you, you love the look on his face when he’s explaining something he’s passionate about. Back at his apartment, the first round is just you two, but he takes a few videos to send to Chan. Then Lix gets home and joins you both.

There’s only Minho and Jisung left and you’re pretty sure you should go after them as a pair. You have all the others together, asking their opinions as well, and most of them agree, they’ve been called chopsticks before for a reason after all. Talking about it has gotten them all worked up though, which you’ve found isn’t a difficult thing to do. So, after settling on a straight forward date plan where you and Chan explain the whole thing to them first, Binnie has you held in the air, your back to his chest, his hands gripping your thighs and holding them open so the others can see exactly how well he splits you open. And so he can show off his strength. Felix, who’s sex drive seems to perfectly match yours, is already a whimpering mess on the couch before he sinks to the floor and crawls over to Hyunjin to suck his cock.

That is, naturally, when Jisung and Minho decide to wander into Chan and Jeongin’s apartment. You vaguely heard the commotion but, being too absorbed in Changbin, you didn’t really register what Chan and Jeongin tell the other two. After Binnie cums, filling you up, he passes you to Seungmin, who let’s you splay out on the floor with a perfect view of Jisung and Minho over his shoulders. Minho is pressed against Jisung’s back, one arm wrapped around his middle, lips close to his ear. You can’t hear what he’s saying, but you can see the effect it’s having on him. You watch Jisung’s eyes go glassy, his mouth drops open and little whines slip out. His hips roll forward, seemingly without his conscious control. Minho, meanwhile, has the wickedest smirk on his face, staring straight at you the whole time. It’s his eyes you’re looking into when you cum on Seungmin’s cock.

As soon as Seungmin moves, Minho lets go of Jisung who is on his belly, face between your thighs so fast you’re impressed he didn’t fall. Your thighs clench around his head and that seems to spur him on more, licking Changbin and Seungmin’s cum out of you faster. You hear whimpering above you and turn to see it’s coming from Felix, whose eyes are glued to Jisung and who looks rather jealous. Before you can say anything, Chan catches it too and you recognize the glint in his eyes. It’s going to be a long, but very happy night.

And it is. You don’t really hear the exact words Chan says, but the gist of it is that they’re going to pass you around and each of the eight of them is going to cum inside you. Then, Felix and Jisung are going to eat it out of you. You can’t tell who’s more turned on by that – you, Felix, or Jisung. After that, things get a little hazy for you. There are so many hands on you and you never go for more than a minute without a cock filling you.

Jisung slides into you as soon as he’s licked you clean. He doesn’t last long, but you already came on his tongue, so you don’t even notice that you didn’t come on his cock. At some point Jeongin has you bent over the coffee table, thrusting into you from behind. Chan, because he thinks it’s adorable when you’re completely fucked out, tries to get you to ride him. You manage to roll your hips, but you’re so far gone that he giggles and takes over, thrusting up into you. Felix lays you on your side on the couch, letting you relax as much as you can while he thrusts into you, keeping one leg bent up and over his legs so you’re on display for the others. You know, because you can taste it when he kisses you, that he’s sucked off at least one person other than Hyunjin. Part of you is sorry you missed that. You don’t remember when Changbin and Seungmin fuck you again, but you know they did. You heard Binnie grunting in your ear and calling you Bunny. You think that might have been after Jeongin, still bent over the coffee table. You know Seungmin likes to see your face, so that had to have been him on the couch, after Felix, with your knees pressed to your chest.

You know, because you heard it, that both Felix and Jisung have each been fucked at least once, probably twice. You vaguely think someone fucked Jisung when he was inside you. You want to make a mental note to make sure you can watch that next time, but the thought is pushed right out of your head.

Then Minho’s sliding into you on the couch wondering how a slut who’s already taken so much cock can still be so tight. Hey Hyune, got an idea, come here. Then Hyunjin’s fingers are sliding into you beside Minho’s cock and you’re so full, you don’t think you could be fuller, but you’re wrong. You practically scream when Hyunjin slowly slides his cock into your pussy, sliding alongside Minho’s. They let you adjust before setting a punishing, alternating rhythm.

Felix is already on his back on the floor, when first Hyunjin then Minho cums. Minho holds you up, supporting your upper body as he slides you down so you can sit on Felix’s face. You can’t see it, but you can feel their combined cum oozing out of you and into Felix’s waiting mouth. Judging from the sounds under and around you, it must look obscenely good. Then you feel Jisung’s tongue join Felix’s. You grip Minho, digging your nails into his arms as the pair wring one final orgasm from you.

You collapse and Minho gently maneuvers you to the floor between Felix and Jisung. The trio of you, gasping for breath and in a hazy, post-sex space that you love, lay there and wait for the others. Chan and Minho are giving out instructions. Hyunjin’s sent upstairs to run a warm bath. Seungmin and Jeongin are tasked with getting drinks and food and bringing them up to the bathroom, though they bring out a water bottle for everyone first. Chan helps you sit up and drink the water. Then he, Changbin, and Minho are carrying you, Felix, and Jisung upstairs to the bath.

Gentle hands are washing you, Felix is cuddled into your chest and Jisung is fighting sleep where he’s cuddled against Felix.

You, babygirl, are a genius Chan says to you, kissing your forehead and tucking you into bed between Felix and Jisung, after convincing the trio of you to eat some of the food Seungmin and Jeongin bring up.

[pipwritesoccasionally]

midnight emotions (two little lines pt. 2)

in which your stepson has a bad dream and you feel guilty.

this one has less to do with your pregnancy but it is still relevant!

toji x reader (same stuff from last time applies, technically AFAB because of pregnancy but it's also a world with sorcery so I am not here to stop AMAB people. kept it pretty gender neutral, but let me know if it doesn't seem like it.)

wc: 850

pt. 1 pt.3

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the darkness floods your eyes as you blink awake for the second time that night. body aching, you roll over, feet fluffing the carpet of you and toji’s bedroom. your arms reach up, exposing your growing stomach to the cold air. 

as you stand, the bed creaks, and you hear your husband groan. 

“doll?” his voice is low from sleep, and you place your hand on his arm. 

“i’m good. i just have to pee.” 

“again? you went two hours ago,” you’d never think that toji could be so whiny, but it sure was a very cute surprise. 

“babe, a whole human is growing next to my bladder. i’m going to be peeing all the time for the next few months,” you chuckle, and you hear him roll over on the bed. 

“fine. see you soon.” 

with that, you begin your walk to the bathroom, able to navigate the dark hallways perfectly after following this routine for weeks. after doing your business, you walk back down the hall, but this time you find that it’s much easier. 

in fact, there’s a light on in one of the bedrooms, which you quickly discern to be megumi’s. you knock, hearing a little “come in” on the other side. 

“megumi? what are you doing up?” you whisper, seeing him sitting up in bed. he furiously rubs his hands with his face, and the sight brings tears to your eyes. 

“i…had a bad dream.” he says, his little voice full of sadness. you move to kneel next to his bed, hoping to reassure him. 

“what happened? you can talk to me about it, if you want. or i can get your dad if you’d prefer.” he shakes his head, but still seems to hesitate. 

“dad’s not going to…leave us, will he?” worry strikes through you. 

“never. what would make you think that?”

“i don’t know, i guess i just wish we could see him more. he’s always pretty busy and only comes home for dinner.” another tear falls down his little face, and you can feel one mirror on your own. curse your hormones. 

“he’s busy, yes, but it’s because he’s trying to provide for you as best as he can. he just wants you to be happy,” megumi nods, but you can see that there’s still something on his mind. 

“it’s just that…when the baby comes, will he still have time for us?” your heart brakes at his statement, guilt shattering you. 

“of course he will. i promise you that he will always have time for you. he can be gruff, but he loves you.” 

“pinky promise?” he holds his little pinky out, and you immediately hook your much larger one around it. 

“pinky promise. now go back to bed. if you’re tired in the morning, let me know and i’ll call you out of school.” he nods, and you walk to the door, turning his light off. 

“sleep tight kiddo.” the door closes with a soft click!, and you immediately head back to your shared bedroom. your face feels wet, and you realize belatedly that you’d been crying. 

the bed is comforting, but you feel your breaths come out shakily. 

“doll? what’s wrong?” you jump, not realizing your husband’s still awake, and scoot in closer. 

“megumi’s worried that you won’t have time for him once the baby comes, and i feel so guilty. i didn’t even think about how this would affect them.” you’re hiccuping now, and his large hand comes to rest on your back. 

“you didn’t do anything wrong, i should be here more for them.” he whispers, and you shake your head. 

“no, you’re just doing what you can to help us.” he sighs, and you place your head on his chest. 

“yeah, but maybe it’s not enough. i’ll try to cut back on how many jobs i take weekly so i can be here more. we make more than enough money between the two of us anyways.” 

you hum, remembering exactly why you fell in love with him all those years ago. he isn’t exactly the most open person, but he does love his kids in his own way. 

“you need to stop being so cute. this isn’t good for my blood pressure,” he snorts, squeezing you lightly. 

“cute, huh? never thought someone would call me cute,” you laugh at him, wrapping your arms around his body. 

“why wouldn’t they? you just ooze cuteness, from your thick biceps and rippling abs-” 

“i’m starting to think you might be in love with me.” you can just hear the grin in his voice, and you move to roll away before one of his strong arms stops you. 

“ah-ah,” he tuts, “need my doll next to me so i can protect her.” 

“you sure you’re not the one in love with me?” his chest is firm as you run your fingers across it. 

“you wish,” he presses a kiss against your temple, and your body heats up. you huff, feigning annoyance, and his hand comes to cup your face. 

“fine. i might be in love with you. just a little bit."

[revelboo]

The latest part of 'It Had To Be You' was *chef's kiss* delicious. Thank you so much, I really enjoyed it 🥹🫶

BTW, ALL YOUR WORKS ARE BEAUTIFUL!!!! 💖💖💖

You're keeping us so well fed 💕

Thank you!

It Had To Be You Pt 14

TFO Megatron x Reader

• “A bit more,” he says, deep voice rumbling through you where you’re leaning against him. Warming as he turns your hand over so his lips can brush the inside of your wrist. Sitting across his lap, amusedly watching him struggle to manipulate the tiny fork in his servos you’re uncomfortably aware of how hard he’s trying. Even mass displaced, the silverware looks dainty in his big hands as he spears a bite and offers it to you. Part of you wants to ask where the food comes from because it’s cooked and you can’t really see your alien warlord bothering to learn how just for you. And if he’s kidnapped a catering company to keep you fed, you probably don’t really want to know that either.

• For some reason, it pleases him to watch you eat from his hand. Knowing that he’s provided for you. Taking care of you. Taking his time and trying to not push too hard, because this fragile new peace between you both means everything. You’d spent the whole night tangled together, sharing secrets, meeting each other for the first time and exploring each other. Reluctantly setting the tray aside when you gently push his arm away when he offers another bite. “This between us,” you begin, voice hesitant. “You thought it was a human thing. Something I did.”

• “It’s not a Cybertronian thing. Or if it is, it’s so rare I’ve never heard of it,” he murmurs, venting to stir your hair as he catches your fingers and rubs a servo against them. Optics lost in thought when you look up, you decide that you like this part of him. Seeing him relaxed instead of angry at the world. Shivering as his mouth opens and he nips your thumb as those optics find your eyes. Breath catching as he runs his glossa against the inside of your wrist, knowing exactly where his mind just went and that if you want to keep talking, you need to distract him before you end up under him again.

• “Do you wish I was like you? Cybertronian?” Nipping at soft skin, he glances up at you, his amusement faltering at how serious you look. Like this question matters, like you’ve been wondering about it for some time. And he’d never thought to take a conjunx, never imagined trusting anyone that much, allowing them so close. Another Cybertronian, an equal, that could hurt him, use or betray him was out of the question. But you’re not an equal, just a little organic that he was drawn to. He didn’t choose you any more than you chose him. Pulled to each other against your wills and unable to escape each other now. Trapped in need even if you’re reaching out to him now, tempting him to let down his guard and hope things might work out even as the cynical part of him knows it can’t. No matter what he wants, no matter how desperately he wants this to be something he’s allowed.

• “No,” he says, the word a soft growl, optics sliding away. Making you wonder if there’s more that he’s not saying. You’re not under any delusions that whatever this is will have a happy ending. That you might grow to love him or be loved in return even as the thought makes your chest hurt. You’re not at war with each other, at least, because the constant fighting was slowly breaking you apart. And no matter how much you like the glimpses he allows you to see of who he’d been before he’d become angry and jaded, you know they’re not really meant for you. He’s not meant for you and that this is temporary. But you want to pretend. To lie to yourself that this can be more.

• Now you won’t meet his optics. And he wonders if you’d asked because you wish he were human. Are you grieving that you won’t have a human mate? A normal life? Feels you blow out a shuddering little breath, head resting against him. “I-do you think you,” you begin falteringly, keeping your face turned where he can’t see your eyes. “Could you ever-never mind.” Feels your shoulders slump as you laugh, the sound soft and bitter. Could he ever what? Venting softly, he rubs his servos against your wrist and tries to figure out where your thoughts went. Because that question you’d started to ask was so small and broken it cuts through his spark. It hurts.

Previous

Next

[jq37]

Your sister who you love so much (even though you’ve never shown it) asks you to be her sister again, her true sister, in deed not just in name. And yes, of course that’s what you want. That’s what you’ve always wanted and now that she’s shattered your defenses and destroyed the ones who would pit you against each other and died right before your eyes, how could you refuse? How could your answer be anything but yes?

So you go home with her, not the ruins of your perfectly posh prison, but a new home which provides love and care and bunk beds and it’s so so nice. Ridiculously nice. Sickeningly nice. And a small, sick part of you almost misses your old home (if you can even call it a home) because yes, it was cruel and awful and you hated every second of it but you knew where you fit. You knew what your role was. You don’t fit in here. Everyone accepts you because they’re all so nice, but they don’t know how to volley back your sharp words or find a hidden, “I love you” within an offhanded insult. 

And then your sister leaves to save the world again because that’s who she is. She’s the kind of person who goes out to save the world with her friends when she’s needed and you’re not. You’re not, not, not. Not on any count. You don’t save things, you destroy them. And friends? You have to allow yourself to be vulnerable for friends so of course that’s out. Your sister is 16 and she’s out saving the world for the third time and you, fully grown at 18, are a wanted criminal who hasn’t even properly graduated from high school. You can’t stop thinking about it and, without your sister and her friends occupying the house as a buffer, the ones who are left try to get you to talk about it so you make a rash decision, as you are wont to do. You leave, like a thief in the night. You can make your own way. You can. You’ll prove it.

You find a shitty apartment and pay for it with the ill-gotten spoils from one of your many exploits. You could probably pawn some treasure for more luxurious  accommodations–there is that chest of rubies just lying around–but you don’t. That’s not what you deserve. And what if your sister needs help later? You don’t have access to your parental funds anymore which means she doesn’t either. You know she won’t ask anyone for help–you wouldn’t. But someone has to look after her. You’re an abjuration wizard. You protect people. You protect her. No, that’s a lie. But you want to make it not a lie. You want to start now.

If you’re saving the rubies then you need a source of income. You narrow down your least villainous talents to try and find a suitable job and hit on teacher. You’re good at magic, right? So how hard can teaching it be? Hopefully not as hard as securing the job, which proves trickier than expected because, oh right, you’re a wanted criminal who hasn’t graduated high school. But you dip into your villainous talents once more and tell yourself it’s for a good cause. You secure the job. You’re doing it. You’re making your own way. 

You want to text your sister to see if she’s doing alright but you don’t want to intrude and you don’t want to answer any questions about what you’ve been doing because then either you’ll have to lie or explain that you’ve left again, right after you promised you’d be there. Both options make your heart ache, especially since it’s her birthday. So you wait until the house is empty (mostly empty–you’re never really alone in a haunted house) and enter the room you and your sister shared for too brief a time. You paint her walls with carefully rendered runes, filled with all your abjuration magic and stamped with your arcane mark. It’s a possessive bit of spellcraft. A selfish claiming of a climactic kill. You mean to make a different kind of claim. You are claiming your sister, as she asked you to months ago. You are telling the world that she will not be fucked with while you live. Your rooms were so close before. You could hear her. You knew every night she went to bed in the grips of a panic attack with no one to console her. She won’t have to feel unsafe in her own room again. You can make sure of that at least. 

The sun rises one morning and you know that means your sister is alive and well and coming home. You teleport to Falinel to make sure she returns to her favorite dessert. It’s worth the spell slot and the chance of being recognized. The tower where they kept you is long destroyed and you know that this time, if you were ever captured or even killed, rescue wouldn’t be measured in a matter of months. It would be days. Hours even if your clever sister and her powerful divination magic put things together faster. The thought fills you with more emotion than you know what to do with. You leave a note. “I love you,” you think. “Enjoy the nemesis ward,” you write. 

Practicing magic, as it turns out, is a very different skill than teaching magic. The children are loud and obnoxious and you don’t quite realize that maybe your expectations are too high between the hothouse you grew up in and your sister being the world’s greatest diviner, fullstop. You know you can always go back to the manor, but that somehow makes it easier to stick it out. You’ve always been taught that pressure provides the best results but there’s something about the security of a safety net that makes everything a bit more bearable. And so what if you have to take a second job involving a light criminal element. You’re only smuggling–that’s barely even a real crime.

Your sister who has saved the world thrice now, texts you and she wants help. She is looking to you for help. And you do your best to oblige. You offer your knowledge, you offer your rubies, you invite her over again and again. She sends you a text and deletes it. You’re not the diviner in the family but you drain your spell slots scrying for information you already know. Information that you'll hear from her own lips in just a few hours. “I love you.”

She finally visits and you’re not unaware of the state of your apartment. You know you’ve been too exhausted for an Unseen Servant or even a round of Prestidigitations but you know that your sister has seen your mind and there’s nothing messier about you than that. She teases you and you tease her back. She’s the only one who understands how to deliver a complement with a backhand so you can receive it without your skin crawling. The only one who knows how much tartness you need with your sweetness. 

Later, she visits again. She sits in your filthy apartment and you watch trash TV and it’s the highlight of your week. Your month even. That should feel pathetic but, somehow it doesn’t. You want to tell her. She deserves to hear it from time to time without having to filter out the layers of prickliness that you add as second nature, a layer of armor as ever present as your abjurer’s ward. You may not be able to handle naked sentiment but she can. You’ve seen her with her friends. How affectionate they are. You’ve always been taught that loose lips sink ships but you have experience with ship sinking and this prospect fills you with much less dread. You tell her and it’s awkward and fumbling but you manage. Maybe loving people isn’t so different from loving cats.

You have a new job which is perfect because the school year is almost over and, blackmail or no, you aren’t sure how many times you’ll be able to get away with casting Sleep on your class to give yourself a break. Honestly, you should have applied for jobs in Leviathan from the start. Why would pirates care about your sketchy history and lack of credentials? You could teleport yourself to Leviathan every day but that would be a waste of a spell slot when the door to the Compass Points is right there in the manor (and if your sister happens to be there too then hey, happy coincidence). While you’re there, you might as well do your laundry. And stay for dinner from time to time. And spend time with your sister in your her room where your runes stand sentinel and your old bunk lays untouched. You don’t think you’re staring but later, as you go to grab a snack from the kitchen your sister throws you a casual, over the shoulder glance. 

“You can just move back in, if you want.”

And would it really be that easy? Just like that? After a year of trying to make a point or a plan or a better version of yourself or whatever? Just like that? 

You remember a year ago. You and your sister and words that will be burned into your mind forever. 

“Despite the fact that you have not earned it, I do love you.”

Just like that. 

You say yes. You stay. 

[versupital]

“Sit back down.” “I’m sat.”

But it’s jjk men.

Choso would accidentally overstep a boundary, as he was still learning what was okay and what you considered… unacceptable. You’d get irritated with him because he wasn’t understanding your point of view and try to storm off. That is until he hits you with:

“Okay, alright, just— just sit back down. Please don’t be angry with me, I’m listening, and trying to understand, too.”

I’m sat and pulling him down into my arms <33

Gojo would purposely piss you off and then laugh as you got angrier. You’d stand up and yell a threat to leave him and block his number, but you would fold like a lawn chair because:

“Girl sit down, you’re not going anywhere. You know I’m playing, and I know what it takes to get rid of that attitude.”

I’m sat but it ain’t on the couch 🫦

Nanami would be apologizing for a late shift, because you were missing quality time with him. You told him you’d get a job if it meant he could work less, but he was trying to convince you he’d stop picking up so many hours.

“Wait. Please. Listen, sit back down, and we can talk. Please. I told you that you’d never have to work again, and I mean it. I am sorry, I have been neglecting your other needs trying to make sure you don’t want for anything materialistic.”

I’m sat, but with tears in my eyes, bc he just wants to be the provider 🙁🙁

You and Toji would be fighting about how much you have to drive him around, and how he’d made another empty promise to work harder on getting a car. You’d sworn to him that he only had one more chance, and he’d known you were full of shit because you loved him too much.

“Sit the fuck down, brat. Standing up like I’m supposed to be afraid of you and shit. You can’t let me go and I won��t let you. Simple.”

I’m staying up just so he pushes me down and yells at me again afgggsjhsh

Geto would be trying to correct you on something stupid, and today was just not the day. You’d cussed him out about how he was always trying to be right and he would have retaliated that he didn’t have time for your mood swings and you needed to stop being so defensive.

“Uh-uh. Sit. You’re doing entirely too much, I am trying to help you and teach you so that you don’t look stupid.”

I’m sat, but I’m laughing at him bc that’s better than punching him <3

Sukuna just regularly talked to you like that as he ordered you around. And of course you’d disobey on occasion to get put in your place… duh!

“Sit the hell down, woman. Matter of fact, on your knees like a good servant.”

Sir yes sir <33 (I am shivering me timbers)

[janeyseymour]

Save Me Before I Lose Myself- part 4

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

Summary: Millie is exhausted. Melissa thinks she understands. Carrie is... different.

WC: ~2.55k

When you show up to work (on time for the second day in a row), you immediately hate the fact that you sit at a cubicle for most of the day. You end up standing almost the entire shift, and your feet hate you by the end of it.

At Abbott, Millie continues to stay quiet, resigned. It’s a far cry from the usually upbeat and happy-go-lucky kid that Melissa usually sees. The redhead swears she almost sees bags under the seven year old’s eyes. She looks exhausted- truly and utterly exhausted.

“Millie?” the teacher calls for your little girl during their snack time. “Can you come here for a second?”

Your little girl obeys, and she practically drags herself to the teacher’s desk. “Yes, Miss Schemmenti?”

“I’ve just noticed that you’re a kinda acting different today,” Melissa notes quietly. “I wanted to make sure everything is alright, and that you’re okay.”

Millie just nods quietly. 

“If you have anything you’d like to talk with me about, you know Miss Schemmenti is always here to lend an ear.”

Your daughter nods silently again. Then, in perhaps the quietest voice, she admits, “Sleepy.”

“Did you not get good sleep last night?”

Millie shakes her head, and her blue eyes sparkle as tears begin to cloud them. “I’m so tired,” she whines.

“Oh, hun.” The more maternal side of the childless redheaded teacher comes out, and she wraps her arms gently around her student. “I’m sorry.”

The seven year old clings to her teacher much like she clings to you, looking for any warmth and comfort anybody can provide. Her tears hit leather with soft thuds.

“Why don’t you just go lay your head down for a few minutes?” Melissa offers. “Close your eyes and relax?”

Your daughter bites her lip nervously. She’s not sure what she’s supposed to say. “But we’re at school.”

“An’ I can’t have a sleepy Mills, now can I?” the teacher teases softly. “C’mon, it’ll be okay. You won’t be in any trouble.”

The little blonde searches for any hints of ingenuity from her educator. Then, she gives the tiniest nod and slinks back to her desk. Before her head even hits the desk, it’s like she’s asleep, exhaustion finally taking over.

Melissa is in the middle of her math lesson when it hits her. She stops in her tracks, marker halfway raised to the board to write the answer to one of the problems on the whiteboard. 

What you said makes full sense to her. Please stop helping me, because it’s only hurting me. While she thought she was helping by slipping you that note to show her support, it was actually a hindrance to you. It made your life so much harder, knowing that she knew exactly what was going on. She had acknowledged what you have been so clearly trying to ignore- put aside for the well-being of your daughter. It makes all of it real for you, and in that instant, she wishes she could take it all back. If she had known that it was only going to hurt your heart, she would have simply dropped the matter of the subject and simply supported you in silence. Or at least, that’s what she thinks you meant- she has no idea the pain her sticky note caused you.

When lunch time comes, the second grade class lines up to make their way down to the cafeteria- all except for one child: Millie, who is still sound asleep at her desk.

Melissa stands at her door as she waits for Janine to begin filing her own class down the hall.

“Pipsqueak,” the redhead calls to her coworker. “Can my class just tag on at the end of your line? I got a student still in the room, an’ I can’t leave ‘er by herself.”

Janine looks slightly confused, but nods with a bright smile. “Of course! The more, the merrier!”

“Yeah, kid. Would ya mind havin’ Barb stop down here with my lunch too? I don’t think I’m gettin’ away from this one any time soon.”

Brows furrow, and there’s the silent question of if everything is okay. Melissa can only nod before the shorter teacher nods again. “Sure thing.”

It’s a few minutes later that Barbara appears in the doorframe of the second grade teacher’s classroom, two lunches in hand. Her eyes immediately set on Millie asleep at her desk. Her brows raise in concern.

“Asleep since snack,” Melissa says quietly. She’s sitting at her desk staring straight ahead. Her eyes don’t even meet Barbara’s.

“And you let her sleep? You never let students sleep in your class.”

“What was I supposed to do, Barb? The poor girl came in silently today, which you and I both know is not normal for her. She told me the other day she hears her mothers up late at night, and she was so tired she started crying,” the redhead sighs. She puts her head in her hands. “God, Barb. This is awful. That poor little girl should not be living like this. And neither should her mother.”

“No,” the kindergarten teacher says softly as she makes her way into the classroom. She sets Melissa’s lunch on her desk. “But you and I both know that Y/N does everything she can to keep Millie safe- she’s well-fed, clean, and loved by at least Y/N. So, we can’t step in.”

“I didn’t,” the redhead mutters. “All I did was slip her a note yesterday telling her I was here for her when she’s ready, and this morning she came in limping and begged me to stop trying to help her.”

“So you stop.”

“I- I don’t know if I can,” Melissa admits. “I- How am I supposed to stop trying to help her when I know what it’s like to be in her situation, albeit mine was not nearly as severe?”

“I know it’s hard, but you have to respect her-”

“She told me that my trying to help her only hurts her,” the second grade teacher mutters. “I- I caused her hurt, when all I was trying to do was help.”

“Melissa, I think you need to take a step back from all of this. Yes, what’s so clearly happening to her is a terrible thing that no human should ever have to endure, but she very deliberately asked you to stop. So, you need to stop and just take care of Millie to the best of your abilities while she’s in your care at school.”

Melissa takes a deep breath and lifts her head from her hands. “You’re right.”

“When are you going to realize I always am?” Barbara teases her. “Eat, Melissa. I’ll bring down a lunch for Millie for when she wakes up too.”

“Thank you.”

Millie ends up sleeping through the entire day, and even when Melissa knows she should wake her, she can’t find it in her to. She has Janine take her kids out for dismissal with the instruction that if you’re outside to come down to your classroom if possible. 

You’re standing there, and you see some of your daughter’s classmates running towards their own parents, but there is no Melissa, and certainly no Millie. You internally begin to panic. What had Millie told her teacher that has the both of them not out here?

Miss Teagues makes her way over to you. “Hey. Melissa told me to have you head down to her classroom if I saw you.”

“Is my daughter okay?” you ask quickly, already limping your way to the front door. You don’t even wait for a response before you’re in the door. You make your way in as quickly as you possibly can- your body still aches. It takes you far too long to get down to the classroom.

“Miss Schemmenti?”

“Hey,” the redhead sighs softly. She points over at your daughter.

“She’s sleeping?” you raise a brow as you lean against the doorframe gently.

Melissa nods. “Has been since snack at ten.”

“Thank you for letting her get the rest she needs,” you say quietly. “Last night was… rough.”

The teacher nods. You can see that she wants to pry. She wants to question your statement. But she doesn’t.

You slowly make your way over to your daughter and squat down in front of her. Shaking her shoulder gently, you press a soft kiss to the cheek that isn’t laying against her arms. “Baby.”

She stays asleep. And on another day, you’re sure you would just carry her home despite the fact that your arms would be sore, and she’s getting too big for you to hold for long amounts of time. But today, you know it’s not even a plausible thought.

“Honey,” you shake her a bit more. “Sweet girl, it’s the end of the school day.”

“I don’t wanna go home, Miss Schemmenti,” Millie grumbles, eyes not even opening. “I wanna stay here.”

You frown, as does the redhead sitting at her desk. “Sweetheart, it’s Momma. Wake up for me please.”

She cracks one eye open. “Momma?”

“Yeah, baby. It’s Momma.”

“Carry me?”

“You know I would, but I can’t today,” you sigh. “Not after…” you trail off. You know Melissa is listening intently.

“Okay,” your daughter sighs softly as she picks her head up from her desk. She rubs her eyes sleepily.

“Have a good night,” the teacher tells the two of you softly as you make for the door.

You give her what you hope is a smile. “You too, Miss Schemmenti.”

Millie just waves sleepily.

When you get home, you expect your wife to be sitting in her place at the table like she always is. You expect her to be typically quickly and with fervor, as she usually does. But she isn’t. She’s actually standing by the door with a smile soon her face.

“Hey, baby,” Carrie says sweetly. She pulls you in for a kiss that isn’t too dissimilar from the way she used to kiss you when you were dating and newlyweds.

“Hi, hun,” you sigh softly.

“How was your day?”

“It was alright,” you lie. Your body is exhausted, your mind is exhausted, and you really don’t feel like doing anything today. “I’ll start on dinner now.”

“There’s no need to do that,” your wife tells you. She bends down and opens her arms to Millie.

“Hi,” Millie yawns out, but she doesn’t make a move for the woman she looks so much like.

“Sleepy today, little girl?” Carrie asks as she takes matters into her own hands and wraps her arms around your daughter.

“Mhmm.” She allows her mother to hold her for a few seconds before detaching herself from the woman. It’s quite clear to you that your daughter is not comfortable with this. She immediately clings to you again.

You head for the kitchen, but you see that dinner is already in the oven upon walking into the room.

“You’re making dinner?” you furrow your brow.

She nods and gives a shy smile. Carrie reaches for something on the dry sink and hands you a beautiful bouquet of flowers. “These are for you, love.”

You take them gently and look at them in awe. They truly are beautiful. And they smell absolutely delightful.

“Why don’t you go take a load off and relax with Millie on the couch while I finish dinner and set the table?”

“R-really?” you squeak out. The last time that she had done this, it was before everything had really gotten bad. The last time she had done this, she hadn’t hit you yet, but the fight that had taken place the night before had gotten out of hand. “Yeah, hun,” Carrie kisses you again sweetly. She bends down and ruffles Millie’s now lopsided pigtails and kisses her hairline.

Dinner is splendid- absolutely delicious. And when you expect your wife to head up the steps to change to go out for dinner, she doesn’t. She actually stays in the dining room to clean up, does the dishes, and sits next to you on the couch as Millie curls up in your lap. Her long fingers trace patterns on your thigh like she used to- and not in a sexual way, just a way of letting you know she’s there.

When it’s time to put your daughter to bed, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Carrie so maternal. She reads the bedtime story with you, making sure to use silly voices and sing when it calls for it. She tucks your daughter in, kisses her forehead, and promises her that she’ll get great sleep tonight. Millie looks nervous, but not as nervous as she was walking into the house this afternoon.

When you’re alone with your wife, fear begins to seep into your bones. She was nothing short of a dream this afternoon and this evening, but that was in front of your little girl. Now, everything is being closed doors again.

But tonight, there is no hurt. There’s just short, sweet kisses. No hands roam where they aren’t wanted. Soft affirmations of love are whispered into the crook of your neck. She even apologizes for her actions last night. She promises you that she’ll back off on the drinking, she’ll be around more often for Millie, and that nothing like what took place last night will happen again.

You forgive her. Of course you do. You always forgive her. A small part of you believes her- she genuinely seems like she’s feeling remorseful for her words and actions. But another part of you wonders if and when it’ll happen again. A part of you hopes that it won’t ever happen- the more naive side of you. 

But the other part of you- the jaded side that has grown used to this woman knows it won’t be long until she’s back to her habits. Because this has happened before. She’s done things like this before, and yes, this is the worst it’s been, but it never changes. 

It gets better for a week, two at most, before it turns back to what you’ve grown accustomed to. For a short span of time, Carrie will shower you with love and affection, soft touches and gentle eyes. She’ll lull you into a false sense of security like she always does. And when things begin to go south, and you speak up, she’ll turn. She’ll tell you that you’re ungrateful for the life you have, that she’s been nothing but the perfect housewife and you’re taking her for granted. She’ll tell you that she never should’ve married you, threaten you with divorce- promise you that if you were to separate, she would be just fine but nobody would ever be able to love a pathetic, broken woman like you. Carrie is a manipulative, egotistical narcissist. She’ll never change. You know this, and you wish you could just run away. But you have Millie to worry about, and she will always come first. As long as Millie is safe, there isn’t a chance in hell you’ll leave- even if things go back to how they usually are, and you know they will. It’s just a matter of time.

But for now, you bask in the change of pace. Your body is grateful for the healing time that you’ll get. You’ll take what you can get.

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