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#This is just a little thing I'm working on. I might expand on it or I might not
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I love how TwstJack (?) isn't out for almost a whole day, and fans have already started analysing and coming up with theories. That being said, I've seen quite a few **crack** theories on the possibility that Rollo's deceased brother is/was TwstJack!? Since his brother passed away in a fire and TwstJack is basically alight-up, Jack-o'-lantern reborn in Halloween Town again?
I think that's an interesting theory despite the fact that it's a crack theory. What do you think??
(( Also, I'm secretly hoping that Sam might play a small role in this Halloween event since he's so spiritual and all. ))
[Referencing this post!]
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Not just theories and analyses either!! The fandom was also so fast to drop fan art, fan fics (my friend wrote one for our little circle :> and I’m also working on one), edits, and even full-on cosplays 😭 The devil works fast, but us twsties work even faster…
Mmm… A crack theory is a crack theory for a reason, isn’t it? There’s nothing to really back it up as a legitimate theory (except maybe a single thread of logic). I think there’s also some gaps in logic? For example, twisted!Jack seems a little too old to be Rollo’s brother reborn… and why would be reborn like that? Plus, reincarnation hasn’t even been established as a conceivable thing in Twisted Wonderland. On a meta level, it would be weird to give Rollo and his family more lore compared to other event characters (either that, or it locks TWST into an obligation to expand Fellow and Gidel’s lore next year). No matter how I look at it, the theory stays just a silly, 0.001% chance to become canonized one. Maybe it could work as a fun fic idea though!
I’m not sure if a staff member will be heavily involved? 🤔 There hasn’t really been a strong pattern in the previous Halloween events. The only event with a single staff member playing a strong role was Glorious Masquerade with Trein chaperoning. It would be nice to have more Sam involvement, though I don’t think it has to be for this particular event (since we don’t know yet if there will even be themes of spirituality). Just give him something more to do and say than peddling useful items and then peacing out! (Lookin’ at you, Ghost Marriage and Fairy Gala 👁️)
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future-dregs · 29 days
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American Gothic
Your brother dies in your arms.
Clutching and clutching and his blood gets in your mouth
You don't spit it out
never, ever, spit it out.
He's cold, and you rock him like a baby
The smell will never go away.
A scent in your nostrils for all time.
His mouth is tacky but you kiss it anyway
Or is this first aid?
Resuscitation.
It can't be, he's too stiff.
Stop kissing him.
You don't.
There's a funeral pyre.
And you climb up onto it. Flick your Bic and lay down.
Your brother dies holding you in his arms.
He laughs, because he can see you. He can almost touch you now. It's like you're warm again.
The old car you used to live in creaks.
Funny thing
You can both fit in the backseat.
The radio comes on
You can't quite tell what it is, but the song reminds you of something good
And the smoke and the car polish and the leather of your brother's jacket
Your? Jacket?
It doesn't matter.
As one, you find that you've drifted into the front seat.
The gas gauge reads full, though you could've sworn-
The car rolls gently onto the interstate highway
You want to see the desert, canyons. You've never had a chance to really wail down one before, and you feel like you could do a good one, now
Your brother scoffs, and butts you lightly on the shoulder
Or
You bump him?
It doesn't matter
You're touching
All folded into each other.
He wants to see forests. Redwoods. The cool and the quiet.
So you're going to the forests
You can catch the canyons later
and the ocean.
You both agree that you've seen enough of the midwest.
~~~~
Or, Sam and Dean die, and become a singularly comingled entity.
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sunnys-sonnets · 1 year
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After seeing the art that inspired you- why Hint Of Magic? how was that idea even formed, how did you come up with all the world-building and the smut? (I am always in awe)
I remember looking at the art and trying to make it make sense. And that made a story come of it. A fairy sitting on a knight's shoulder? How did that come to be? Especially with this pairing? Shouldn't they hate each other? Why don't they hate each other? No one is stopping them? Or maybe these meetings and "relationship" is a secret that they both want to keep. But why would Heimdall care about a random fairy? There has to be an incentive for him to keep seeing and meeting with this fairy until they're going to eventually get along. Alright. Give Heimdall a mission from Odin. Easy. Gather fairy dust. They fairies? They're like the Jotunar in GoW. Dangerous and mysterious. But Atreus cute and sweet so Heimdall would have to find it endearing eventually. Their relationship grows, oh no, but they are enemies and Heimdall knows it'll never work and Atreus is stuck in the forest never to leave it even if he wanted to. Boom plotline scraped from cute fanart and GoW.
Ploy's artwork for sure inspired me (and other artists too!) and I think I wanted more of it or stuff like it. And at the time, I needed some variety in what I was writing, I needed a little break from "Mischief and Foresight" so I devised a plan. If I made a fanfiction on the artwork and it was well-liked and well-received then that would mean that more fanart would be made of it, right? Wrong and egotistical. But it was super fun to write and then Lore accidentally kept coming up and it kept expanding??? Like, pretty sure it was going to only have like one or two chapters but it kept growing and I still hope people like it but I often leave it to the side since it's just a side AU
#A Hint of Magic fic#I like A Hint of Magic but I'm a little insecure about it because it doesn't follow the main plotline of GoW or a big AU people like#and at the time I think I was saddened that it wasn't liked like “Mischief and Foresight” was so it felt like a sign like I should stay#in my lane or just stick with what people like#I think I was comment-hungry and that's why#It's like I forgot why I started writing Heimtreus to begin with#because I loved the ship and loved Chaos in an Archer Suit and wanted to expand the story in a spinoff and show my love for it#So I might have poisoned it for myself by desperately trying to write in ways that I though would get people to like it when it#never got the reactions I wanted & it got me all upset so I might have been disillusioned & then dropped the fic for a while because of it#And that's on me and no one else because I did that to me#No one should be forced to like my work or feel guilt-tripped by this#it just shows me that I really have to learn to write for myself because I have to love what I do because unless I'm being paid#fuck everybody else#Sorry for the VENTING and throwing all my baggage at you! That was definitely NOT what you asked 😅🤣#The World-Building is because I like making things make sense and making a story from it and the smut is because I wanted people to like me#so that's pretty much the answer that you did sorta ask#begging people to ignore the fucking ESSAY in the tags! Like Please! I'm just Bitching! I'm just pissing & crying over here! LOOK AWAY#heimtreus#sunny's answers
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allisonreader · 2 months
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Laundry is done for now. We'll see if any writing actually gets done.
#I really want to finish the rewrite of this chapter that I'm working on#there's only about half of a typed page left but that's at least a page handwritten out#something that has passed through my mind the last couple of days is to start typing up the beginning of Tales Of A Frozen Sailor#and to possibly start posting it on AO3 as a way to try and encourage myself to actually get this rewrite done#because there's still so much more that needs to be written and at this point I'm getting to the spot where my confidence is waining#about finishing this at all#if I had outward pressure of knowing people are waiting for updates it might give me some accountability#but at the same time I had intended to have it all finished before posting this time#especially since at this point I'm not actually sure if what I've currently written is going to remain in this exact order#I might play around a little with some of the chapter placement#but it's still too early for that as I'm not even really half way through the rewrite#especially since there are certain parts that I'm intending on expanding hopefully#also I fear posting it because I have a feeling I know what will happen#there might be some little interest in the beginning but long before the end any interest that might be there will dwindle#and I'll never know what people think of the whole thing#as that's always been the case for me and pretty much all of my writing#which is fine. it's just disheartening as much as I expect it at this point#I'm just not one who gets a lot of attention for my writing#don't mind me I'm just getting in my head about the comparison game#I mostly write for myself but it would be nice for there to be at least one or two others who were as excited about my writing as me#and that's not to say that there wasn't originally excitement about Tales Of A Frozen Sailor#because there definitely and I'm ever so thankful for those who did follow until where I ended it#anyways I should be writing story not complaining about the potential of the story not being read and commented on#tales of a frozen sailor#musing on tales of a frozen sailor
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ariaste · 4 months
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Apparently there was some lil drama in Good Omens fandom again about people being deeply nervous and scared of the end of Season 3, and I wrote this in the replies of one of the asks that Neil Gaiman answered, but I feel like it is deserving of being crossposted into its own post (in a slightly expanded form) so folks actually see it.
cmere, good omens fandom, we're having an intervention. a Come To Jesus talk, if you will.
First of all, I'm literally begging the fandom to:
learn what personal boundaries are, especially around parasocial relationships with strangers. (Suggestion: When sending asks to authors you like, use "polite work email" etiquette, not "joking with a friend" etiquette. The latter comes off REAL weird sometimes, and sometimes outright mean/rude/bullying).
take a couple deep fucking breaths
embrace the philosophy of The Author's Intent Only HAS To Matter To The Author, It Does Not Have To Matter To YOU. If you do not like the author's intent, you can say "hmmmm no thanks" and write some fanfic. That's what it's for.
Friends, Romans, countrymen..... Stop trying to make Neil Gaiman responsible for your happiness. For one thing, that is an absolutely unfair and cruel burden to put on a stranger who doesn't know you. Neil is only responsible for Neil's happiness. You're responsible for your own happiness. In fact, do not rely on ANY external source to guarantee your happiness, not even very nice people like Neil, not even your significant other, not even your family members. Yes, those people might be able to help you with your happiness, but they cannot guarantee it. Expecting a third party to guarantee your happiness is how corporations exploit you, and it is the source of all media trauma. Take agency over your own joy! Don't give away your power! Plan to DIY your personal ideal ending!
Neil is not telepathic, Neil cannot know all your hopes and dreams and wishes, nor SHOULD he be expected to know them, nor does he have space to know them. He is busy with things like his own and Terry's hopes and dreams and wishes. Their hopes/dreams/wishes are just as valid and important as yours, aren't they? Yes, they are. So calm down. caaaaaaaallllllm dowwwwwn.
Yes, I love the show very much too, but at the end of the day it is just a story. And the great thing about stories is that you are empowered to retell them in a different way. It is not real, so if you end up unsatisfied by S3, then blithely impose your own reality and build your own joy. It's not like it's the End Of The World or anything (lil fandom joke there for you)
And look, if you read this and you're feeling Mad and Upset or Frustrated about it, that is a symptom that you are maybe feeling a little stung in your Media Trauma parts. I am sorry that other stories have let you down in the past, and I really sympathize that you are feeling scared about the fate of this story that really matters to you. You've invested a lot of love into it! I really understand the fear! You don't want to be hurt again, and that's super understandable and normal.
But bestie, literally the only way for you to find a story that's exactly perfect for you and that won't hurt you at all is for you to write it yourself. I know that sucks to hear, but it is the truth. If you keep pinning a hope of perfection on other people's stories, you will keep getting traumatized by the media you consume. Love other people's stories for what they ARE, not for the stories that you WANTED them to be -- the same way that we love people, you know? You have to let a person be their own person; you can't force them to be someone else. That's fucked up, so if you notice that you keep trying to do that, maybe go to therapy so you can be that Someone-Else person for yourself (or, if you can't afford therapy, read some self-help books from the library or find some good channels on Youtube who make content that might help with that (I really like JulienHimself)).
If you need a story to be something big and important for you, if you are seeking catharsis and healing from a story that matters to you and you're really scared that you won't get it, then open a Word document and start typing. You can do it. You're a human being, and you evolved to tell stories. Literally it's a species specialization. You got this. It's gonna be okay, because you're going to seize the means of production and MAKE it okay. Yes? Yes.
Good Omens S3 will be what it will be. It will be what Neil wants it to be and what Terry would have wanted it to be. Period. That IS actually the highest achievement and the most noble and admirable accomplishment that we can hope for. And hey, maybe what they want overlaps with what you want, and that will be wonderful! But that will be merely a happy coincidence. The only person who can TRULY center your wants is YOU. So stop trying to trap Neil into doing it, please, because he's busy and it's not his job, AND because your wants do matter and you deserve to have someone who can give your wants their 100% full attention (aka you. that's you. only you can do that. Not even your best friends in the world can do it. Not even your mom can do it, at least not if you're old enough to know how to read.)
It's gonna be okay. Really. Really, it is. No, stop typing the snarky melodramatic reply. This is not the time for jokes; I'm being serious. It's going to be okay. Neil Gaiman can only break your heart exactly as much as you allow him to do so. That's how art works. You have to consent in order to be affected by it, and you can withdraw your consent at any time. You're going to be okay. I promise. As long as you choose to claim your own agency and your own empowerment as an individual, then all will be well and all manner of things will be well.
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prettyboykatsuki · 4 months
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on deaths door | s. gojo
✮ tags ; dark content ahead, afab + gender neutral reader, dark comedy / black comedy, attempts of suicide, the use of the word rapist in text, mentions of self-harm scars, penetration, intense but not rough, gojo is doting, no curses au, ceo!gojo 18+
note: this fic is mostly intended to be a dark comedy and have an unserious nature. it is very absurdist and it makes light of both suicide and assault. please proceed carefully if you find this might be triggering to you.
PLEASE READ THE TAGS BEFORE YOU PROCEED.
✮ wc ; 2.6k
✮ a/n ; i actually really really enjoyed writing this and would love to expand on it potentially. KJSDFJSKD.
reader has been through a lot so they are super nonchalant about everything just as a precaution
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"Uwah," A voice startles you from your place on the roof. You gasp, amidst tears and sobs from shock. "Are you about to kill yourself?"
You whip your head around to see who could be beside you at this hour. It's a deliberately obscure location, too so it's extra weird. You were hoping to die in peace in a place where it'd be hard to find you, after all.
But there's a strange man interrupting your plans. Very strange. He's speaking Japanese rather clearly but his hair is a shock of white and his eyes are blues as saphhires. Despite the situation, his voice is light and cheerful - almost amused.
You can't tell if he's just a figment of your imagination. He's so unusual it stuns you out of your tears. You can't find your voice to respond for a moment.
"Yes," You reply, unsure of what else to say. He smiles at you.
"Hm." He looks contemplative. "Well... if you don't want it, can I have it?"
You stare on, confused.
He grins. "Your life, I mean. Can I buy it off you?"
Starting to wonder if you've already died, you stretch your hands up to wipe the tears off of your face just to see if any of it is real. The touch makes it gasp. You're definitely still alive. So, that means this strange man is also real and asking to buy your life.
"What?"
"Oh, don't worry. I'm not a cheapskate or anything, the price will be fair." He walks closer to you from where you've been standing all this time. He grabs you by the collar of your shirt, picking you up and setting you down further away from the ledge with a harsh yank.
Like a kitten whose mother is dragging it by the nape, you fumble onto the rooftop concrete. As soon as you're moved, you drop down to your knees - unable to find anymore strength.
"Are you... trying to traffick me?" Your voice is coarse in your reply as you stare up. It's a genuine question. You aren't sure what else to call this. The strange, unusual man just laughs in your face.
"Mm, well - not really. Though, if you say yes I'll make good use of you in all ways." The last part makes your skin crawl a little. "You were weeping so pitifully when I came up here... super pathetic. I just thought it'd be a waste if you died since I got to see something interesting."
There's something really wrong with this guy, you think. But this is such a common thing in your life, you aren't sure how shocked you should be.
There's also something equally wrong with you, because you're so fucked up - you're considering it. If he paid you enough to cover all of your debts, you could cut ties with all the bullshit your fathers debt has put you through. You could run away. Not there's anywhere for you, even after that. But at least you'd be unshackled from what makes you most miserable.
You don't want your life, but if this guy wants it so bad then...
"...How much will you pay me?"
His eyes light up when you ask this and it unsettles you further. "As much as you want. And you'd have to live with me at my beck and call."
"Like a pet." You reply easily.
Instead of denying it, he snaps his fingers and grins. "Exactly! Or maybe more like a plush toy that I take every where?"
Either way, you're not any kind of human. You're barely human now though with how much you work, so you aren't sure it makes a difference. You stare at him. And he looks back at you with a smile - all pearly white pristine teeth.
Who cares anymore, anyway? Even if he were to mistreat you, you're not sure you'd even feel it. It's all numb. He can have your life if it means you can escape what you're running from.
He looks rich, so maybe.
"Don't worry," He hums, and he reaches over to pat your head while your face is covered in tears. You don't flinch for some reason. "I don't like breaking things I've bought unnecessarily."
Something is wrong with you. Your self preservation is in total fucking tatters. But still, you want to say so you do. Maybe it's the absurdity, or the fact you truly don't have anything to lose. Nothing could make your misfortune any worse.
You sniffle and shake your head. He's dangerous and weird, but at least you could pay off your debts.
"Okay," You say weakly.
His smile gets impossibly wide.
You're wonder if you'll regret your decision.
__
He's filthy rich.
You should've expected that. You did, kinda. Because only rich people would think to do or ask something so absurd like ask to buy another persons life. Still, he had a driver waiting for him downstairs and his car is definitely a sports care. A McLaren, you think. One of the places you catered for ages ago was full of rich people with flashy cars and you remembered some of them.
He sits with you uncomfortably close in the back seat but doesn't speak to you at all during the ride. Not until you arrive at the destination, which is a giant building where the strange man certainly lives.
The driver (named Ichiji) calls the strange man Gojo-sama, which makes you feel extremely on edge. They whisper about something when you're out of ear shot, and Ichiji gives you a sorrowful look that you can't place.
The name Gojo is familiar to you, but you aren't sure where you've heard it.
After taking a long elevator ride to one of the upper floors, you end up in the strange mans condo. When you get there, he tells you take off your shoes and gives you nice slippers.
"Welcome to my humble abode," He says, still frivolous and speaking to you in what feels like a foreign tongue. "And also yours. I'll set you up in the guest room later, but you'll be keeping my bed warm mostly so keep that in mind."
The size of the place is absurd and so is the decor. What have you gotten yourself into? You must've gone insane. You're too afraid to touch anything.
"Am I like... a sex slave?" You ask curiously.
He frowns at you. "You make me sound like some kind of rapist. I guess now that I own you....it might make me one... but you agreed to come here so don't be like that!!" He huffs, childishly.
His response is somewhat incomprehensible to you. He's stranger by the minute and completely tactless - but for some reason, it's hard to distrust him. He doesn't raise any immediate red flags aside from being unusual.
You almost want to say it wouldn't matter if he was, as long as he pays you but decide not too.
"Okay. Do you want me to take my clothes off?" You reply, nonchalant. He stares at you.
"...I know your heads pretty fucked up, but don't you think you're being too blase about all this?"
Your brow furrows. A weird response for a guy who willingly understands this is a less than ethical situation "Would... you prefer I struggle and refuse you? Is that your fetish?"
"No! Well..." You look at him flatly as he thinks on it, almost blushing at the thought. You make a face of disgust "Not in this case, alright! It's just too pitiful and I'm not that type really.... Be more cautious."
"But you were planning to fuck me from the start, right? Or something."
He nods. "Well, yes. As a way to earn your living and for me get my urges out whenever. Finding people to have sex with is a hassle."
You shrug.
"Right. I can cook and clean too. I've done pretty much every job you can think of it,"
He waves a hand at you. "We can discuss it later." He puts a hand in his necktie and pulls on with a small smile. "Right now, I want to test out my new toy so..."
You should feel more disgusted by how he refers to you, but you don't have it in yourself.
"Can I shower first?"
He looks surprised but nods. "Uh-huh. Just wear one of my shirts when you come out. Everything else is in the bathroom. It's upstairs, first door on your left."
You stand to your feet, nodding.
__
It takes you ten minutes to figure out how the shower works.
His shower is nice. The whole place is nice. Nicer than any shithole you've ever lived in. He has a lot of nice bath products, though you aren't sure how you feel about smelling like him since you're borrowing his.
You examine your body a bit in the shower, looking at old scars as you wash and rub yourself clean. Thankfully, you gave yourself a trim downstairs not long ago.
It's embarrassing in retrospect but you've not had much of a choice in the first place. You're sensitive, unsure of the last time you've touched yourself given how much you work. You think of your job and feel guilty for how you're going to miss it. But you recall that you were preparing to die not even two hours ago and feel less bad.
You whimper a little as you finger yourself open under the water - getting wet easier than you thought. You have to lean against the wall, but with enough coaxing you get three fingers in. You're still horny when you shut the water off and step out.
You dry yourself and put on lotion - staring in the mirror. As told you borrow one of his shirts, but it's too big on you and you can see your nipples too clearly which makes you embarrassed.
You reason you're about to go fuck a stranger anyway, and decide to step out right after.
__
You decide against wearing underwear since his shirt fits on you like a dress, but regret when you come back down stairs feeling aware of the breeze on your went cunt.
He's sitting on the couch with his legs spread, dress shirt unbuttoned but still in his clothes. He hears you before he sees you, eyes widening. You suddenly get self-conscious under the weight of his stare.
"Better than I thought," Is his only assessment. Your skin grows hot.
He beckons you over to him and you go, unsure of what to do until he pulls you into his lap. Forcing you to straddle him, he wastes no time in feeling you up. His hands at your waist and chest. His face lights up in pure amusement when he sees you bare underneath.
He stares at your pussy for a long time.
"It's good," He hums, his hands brushing against it. Your nipples pebble in response to the arousal, a pathetic moan leaving your lips that makes him laugh. "Pretty."
You don't have anything to say to that so you keep quiet. Gojo slides his fingers along the seam of your cunt to asses your wetness, surprised surely by how wet it is. Without warning, he plunges a finger in. He looks up at your face, your hand covering your mouth so you don't moan.
"So wet," His voice can't contain his amusement. "What's this?"
"I was," You shiver half-way through as he plunges in another finger and it goes in smoothly. "I p-prepared in the shower and masturbated. I thought you'd just want to stick it in and I didn't want it to hurt.
"Haah," His voice is sharp, suddenly breathy. Something hard and big presses up against your leg. "You're talented in seducing me. I'm not so ungentlemanly, but I'll let it go this time, alright?"
You nod. He uses a sticky hand to unbutton his slacks and push his boxers away. You gasp at the size of his cock. You're not a virgin exactly, but you haven't had sex with anyone this big ever. He chuckles a little, pressing the head of his cock against your stomach and cunt as if measuring it up to you.
More wetness pulses, shame filling you - because you're almost excited to be fucking this strange man you've only met today. Weirdly, you don't feel unsafe around him. Your eyes glass over from lust.
He sticks his fingers in your mouth and you suck automatically, instinctively. His smile is predatory all of a sudden, teeth glimmering.
"So obedient," He says, sharply. "Ah, I have a good eye. It really would've been such a waste."
You're content to throw yourself at him, chasing the pleasure. His fingers taste of salt and skin, making you want something else entirely. It's not long before he pulls away though, wrapping his hand around his shaft and making it shiny. You blink down at where he fists his cock - your spine tingling at the sight.
"Look at you," He mutters, amused. "Do you always get this excited? Is it normal for you to fuck strange men or am I special?"
You shake your head. "It's only been two people."
"Then I am special," He replies. Your breath hitches at the feeling of his cock pressing against your hole - fluttering. "We have good compatibility."
Before you can say a word, you feel his length push inside of you in one swift motion and gasp. It's so big, so impossibly big - and even with how much you stretched, there's a touch of resistance that's making your entire lower half feel like it's jelly. Almost numb from the sensation. Buzzing from adrenaline and want.
You feel full. In your stomach, in your chest - your whole body feel complete. When you manage to open your eyes, you look at Gojo and find yourself taken aback. His hair is pushed back from his hand and he looks... different. He's handsome now that you realize. His face looks...pleased.
You talk before you can think about it.
"Do I feel good?"
He laughs sweetly, before pressing a kiss to your temple that feels to affectionate for people who barely know each other.
"Uh-huh," He says. His hands are strong, tight on your ass as he bucks up into you - causing you to collapse forward. The pleasure makes you shake, sensitivity through the roof. "Feel so good. Hahaha, how lucky."
You cling onto Gojo's shoulder and bury your face into his neck. He doesn't stop you. A large hand comes around the back of your head - the other one at your hips as he thrusts up into you with alarming force and precision. He feels so good it's a little scary, and you can't keep the noises from slipping out. You moan and whine each time the tip rubs against you inside, soft walls barely able to accommodate the size.
Your body feels hot everywhere he touches. It's been so long and Gojo is so careful but so intense. His expensive dress shirt rubs up against your nipples each time he moves. It's so good, so good - makes you want to cry.
"You're so sensitive." He laughs against your shoulder. "Gripping so tight every time I move. Do you want to cum so bad?"
"Yes," The words are a sob. Just a little more.
"Uh-huh. Tell me where to touch you. How should I make you cum."
You're too shamelessly pent up to feel shy anymore. "Touch my c-clit, please, please."
"Got it, got it - don't cry."
Gojo listens to you well. Thick fingers and an angled hand find your clit with ease as he bounces you on his cock with no regard. Your eyes roll back instantly, immediately - as an orgasm washes over your entire body. Back arching, you cum hard around the base of his cock - but Gojo just keeps fucking you through it. He doesn't stop even when you come down, only moves you both so you're laying on the couch on your back.
He kisses you then, and you meet his mouth with sloppy tears running down your face from the pleasure.
"Let's see what your stamina is like, yeah? See if you can keep up with me."
__
He fucks you unconscious.
Essentially. Though you take with enthusiasm even during your exhaustion because the sex is phenomenal - you have no idea when you stop.
You wake up in a bed, and you wake up completely clean. You don't know whose bed, but there's a large figure besides you. Half-asleep and fully exhausted, you feel shy thinking about the fact he probably bathed and dressed you while you were out.
What a strange man, you think - to do that.
He's talking to someone on the phone. You don't really make out much of the words, though you do hear your name in bits and pieces.
"...A college student.......- young then -...... open a bank account for.... - debt...- pay it all off before it becomes annoying.... look into -."
You shift under your blankets half asleep. A hand comes up on top of your head on the pillow, pushing hair from your face.
"Did I wake you?" His expression is hard to read in the dark with your eyes barely open. "Sorry. Almost done. Go back to sleep."
So you do, because you can't find strength to do much else.
The bed is warm, but your sure the heat you feel is from the strong, gentle head petting your head as you rest.
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pennyblossom-meta · 7 months
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Analysis of the romance in Death Note's Spiraling Trap game.
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EDIT 02/03/2024: minor edits and fixes, added a few imgs and extra content.
A huge thank you to the folks over at agtteam who translated L - the ProLogue to Death Note: Spiraling Trap into English! Now we can all date L become FBI agents after hours.
I've been playing the game recently and one of the features I love the most is the L Communicator, which allows the main character (referred to as MC henceforth) to take a break from adventuring and listen to L talk about whatever is on his mind.
There's around one hundred different lines available as the MC develops a relationship with L and they paint him as such a sweet, attentive and thoroughly unique individual that I was surprised by how detailed it was. If you're thinking about playing, then this part is definitely worth putting effort into.
The mechanics of the dating sim are relatively simple: during the adventure, you'll pick up a number of recipes hidden among traps and tools. Then, Watari will provide the ingredients and you can give L whatever sweets he specifically craves. These recipes and cravings depend on the time of day and can be season specific.
Character analysis
As stated in-game, giving L sweets causes his appreciation for the MC to grow. However, L being L, means that he craves different sweets throughout the day. He's definitely very specific about what he likes and what he wants for his sugar fix.
However, if you give L something he isn't craving at that specific moment, he will sulk. The way he expresses his displeasure varies according to the depth of the budding relationship he has with the MC.
L: To tell you the truth, there are many other things I would have preferred. L: [F/N], I hate to say this, but I really would have preferred something else. L: F/N], you must know that I was hoping for something else, right? L: [F/N]… It’s not my favorite but, it made me really happy.
Note: Given that the books in the expanded universe (Another Note and L: Change the WorLd) came out before this game, I think some of the quotes further ahead might be a subtle nod to how L is perceived by the police forces as the "creepy murder detective". However, references about his piece of mind lead me to believe that L craves some respite from the burdens he carries on his shoulders — burdens so strong that they managed to curve his spine.
Note: I'm unsure how the system here works, as the MC also gets points for gaining L's trust in the actual adventure when they a) agree with his observations and b) find key objects hidden in unsuspecting places. It might affect the available lines through the L Communicator.
L: Today is going to be a better day… Let’s think positive. L: I wonder what kind of morning this will be. L: It seems the air outside is crisp this morning.
L: I want to finish what I need to get done before night falls. L: It’s nearly sunset. Time for children to go back home. L: If you just stare into space, night will be here before you know it.
L: It’s already evening… Time keeps passing me by. L: There’s something different about the air at night. L: Night-time, dusk… It’s the witching hour.
As a naturally introspective individual, L observes the world around him and draws conclusions. To my surprise, the game actually managed to capture how observant L is about small, unsuspecting details of daily life and give him a slightly poetic side laced with a hint of wistfulness that suits his character well.
This is a side of L in his private life that I personally wish we had been able to glimpse during the Kira investigation. Though, at the time, L was busy trying to prove that Light was, indeed, Kira. It left him little to no time to enjoy the world around him. During the brief time that L could have had a semblance of rest right before the Yotsuba arc, he was depressed that his deductions were "wrong" — though I could see him musing about some of the above, equal parts whimsy and sulking.
L: If I start to lose my touch… I guess I’ll retire. L: Another day, another mystery… L: I have a lot of thinking to do. L: I feel like doing some capoeira… L: I haven't played tennis for a while. L: The weather today is… Well, it matters not. L: I, um… No, ignore me. L: Am I reading too much into it…?
As a thinker, L has a lot of unfinished thoughts he says out loud. Some border on cliché, others are musings about things he'd like to do or that he's missing.
I wonder if some of his thoughts end up trailing off because, suddenly, he catches himself and believes they're not important? Or that he doesn't think the MC would be interested in what he has to say beyond work matters?
L: “In spring one sleeps a sleep that knows no dawn.” Though, too much sleep isn’t good for anyone. L: If you think about things persistently, noticing all the sides to them will come naturally. L: Strawberries… Despite the name, they aren’t actually berries. How berry disappointing. L: The one who has thought it through wins. It’s true for chess, and for deduction. But in the case of love… I don't know.
He's also a philosopher at heart, always thinking about the human condition. In these we can also witness his dry humour, silly puns along with a subtle desire to share his thoughts on the world and give helpful advice.
As for love, L is cautious but willing to learn. It's a topic where he's out of his depth.
L: Um, Watari is… L: I wonder if Watari’s asleep? L: What could Watari be up to? L: Today is Thanksgiving Day. I am truly grateful to Watari for his diligence.
I found it interesting how L's thoughts eventually go back to Watari and what he's doing. He's the one person that L relies on and whom he interacts with the most. Other people are passing acquaintances at best, who show little interest in L beyond work.
Notice how he mentions diligence? Although it is a utilitarian consideration, it also reveals a thankfulness for the comforts of familiarity and the peace of mind that trusting someone close brings. This is a topic we'll explore better at a later stage, i.e., how trust and acts of service work as a relationship builder.
Romance
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Neutral stage
One of the first things I've noticed is that, during the early stages of the relationship, L is still very formal and quite a bit dismissive — even borderline rude. As his sugar fix gets sated by the MC's keen suggestions (Watari provides the ingredients, of course), L grows gradually more fond of them and wants to include the MC in his life with an enthusiasm I can only define as endearing.
L: Aren’t you bored? You don’t have to check in on me. L: Don’t you have stuff to do?
At the beginning, L is still wary of the MC on a personal level as they have absolutely no rapport beyond a partnership of circumstance and usefulness in the name of justice. He's quick to get bored and doesn't take it very well when he's given sweets he isn't craving. A bit childish, one could say, the way he sulks when the MC errs by not reading his mind.
L: Did I enjoy it? Let me just say “no comment”. (about sweets that weren't quite to his taste)
It's also very in-character for L to feel both annoyed at someone who is randomly calling him and be suspicious of their motives.
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Growing interest
L: Spending the afternoon with you isn’t so bad. L: Even though it’s late, you’re not going to bed, huh? L: You must be a night owl, [F/N]. L: I’m a little curious about you, [F/N]. L: Are you having a good time? I’m just curious. L: You’re kind of… Ah, no, forget I said anything.
He starts addressing the MC by their first name as he becomes more enamoured. It's very sweet. I was pleasantly surprised at how attentive L becomes as he gradually comes to the conclusion that this is a person who understands him.
Mind, due to game mechanics the MC gains approval by giving L sweets, but from a narrative perspective what's really happening is that L not only feels seen and understood, but also accepted. And when that happens, he starts lowering his walls and relaxing.
As a plot device, I would say these are defining moments within L's thought process here; he's curious about the MC, finds them interesting enough to want to know more them and pursues that curiosity to see what they might have in common. It seems he's both a little baffled and content about this development.
L: [F/N], what do you think of when you see a sunset? L: What are you doing this afternoon? Oh, should I not have asked? L: Are you a night owl? Oh, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want.
It should also be noted that L is very mindful of boundaries. There's a tentative, almost shy attempt to connect. He's determined to indulge in his curiosity since the MC's attentiveness towards him shows an opening for closeness he's unused to (but is happy about) and to tend to his more immediate needs (i.e., food cravings), which in turn shows a genuine concern for him. Aside from Watari, I doubt anyone ever extended L similar kindness.
And it is in this determination to get to know the MC that I also find Mello's words (AA: LABB Murder Cases) that L is actually a very active, aggressive individual with absolutely no interest in social conventions perfectly represent him this game, as he navigates a growing fondness with expectation, curiosity and caution — on his own terms, while minding that he doesn't overstep.
L: Staying up late talking to you… It makes me feel calm.
I find it particularly heartbreaking how this confession of L unknowingly makes it more transparent how burdened he is. The spine curved by burdens unseen, the addiction to mind games and sweets; all of these point to stress factors which isolate him further, increasing the loneliness and lack of affection in his life.
That L feels the need to mention the MC makes him feel calm seems telling.
L: We’re both late workers, huh? That makes me happy. L: [F/N]… You’re pretty formidable. L: It’s reassuring to have a partner like you. You’re someone I can trust. L: Your feelings have been received. (Valentine's Day) L: The fact we’ve become so close was an unexpected development on my part.
And here it is, the acknowledgement just as L enters the highest stages of approval, where he expresses admiration and happiness at the close bond he developed with the MC.
"An unexpected development on my part" is quite the turn of phrase. One can only wonder, but I'd make an educated guess that L didn't see this coming because:
a) no one showed feelings towards him before. In his line of work, hidden behind a screen there is no time to indulge or get attached to anyone (he would mistrust their intentions anyway) and so L keeps everyone at arms length, sharing little more than a professional side of himself and fostering utilitarian relationships that help him win "games". L ultimately carries various burdens the average civilian would never be able to understand, all due to the pressure of his job. When failing at the "game of cat and mouse" means being responsible for the likely deaths of dozens, perhaps even hundreds or thousands, the stakes are up in unimaginable ways. What started as a thrill chase can have catastrophic consequences should L fail. That in itself alienates him from society at large. It's a game that L plays well and absolutely profits from, but it is also an indicative of two major flaws: his addictive personality and how he suppresses his emotions to carry on. Coincidentally, it's the expanded universe, in particular Another Note: LA BB Murder Case and L: Change the WorLd, that give us the best insight into this. This isn't too dissimilar to the struggles policemen face in high risk jobs or technicians who have to flag and delete sensitive content from online platforms. These people end up changed from what they see — and some carry traumas for the rest of their lives. That's not to say that L doesn't feel for others. He respects people whom he considers good or morally upstanding (Soichiro Yagami), who are competent in their line of work (Naomi Misora, Mogi), worthy of a second chance (Aiber and Wedy), who speak their minds, unafraid (Aizawa) or who are reliable, loyal to him as a person and not just his cause, in whom he can place his trust and feel secure won't betray him (Watari). The MC seems to fall mostly in the last category, though the relationship is rather precocious — and there seems to be a fair amount of wishful thinking and even projecting on L's part, since communication happens over a device connecting two people remotely. He falls both for the idea of the individual and their attentiveness towards him. When L mentions that they make him feel calm, I'd argue it comes both as a surprise to him and a confession of a closeness and safety he intimately craved — though I personally view L as someone who feels lonely and wanting healthy human contact, even if his social skills might not be the best (worsened by his distrust of people as a whole). Someone who ultimately is willing to adapt to him but whom he can adapt to, as well. Someone who sees him as a person and not an unfeeling robot. It's a POV that certainly challenges certain aspects of DN: Vol 13. I would further argue that L's portrayal has evolved significantly beyond the manga, and that his subsequent humanising is partially a result of the creative liberties the English translations took, as well as a more empathetic view of the character and hidden struggles. Each medium displays a separate iteration of L, with common variables.
b) L fosters distant relationships with others as a safety measure. Aside from Watari, L's contact with other people had always been distant, work-focused, perhaps even tainted by notions of his supposed creepiness as a kinky detective "who relished bizarre murders" (L:CtW). He's useful to the police because he achieves favourable results, though L is still viewed as "a human computer, capable only of measuring mass murders in terms of cold numbers, a reclusive sociopath" (L:CtW). He isn't necessarily liked; in fact, I would argue he rubs people the wrong way most of the time — as we can see during his interactions with the Task Force, during the events of Death Note. L is tolerated, a useful asset who is both mysterious and a pain to deal with. However, he's also put on a pedestal due to his status (i.e., Relight, the children at Wammy's). For the latter, he purposely shatters their idea of L as this unbeatable, paragon of justice by defining himself as a monster (anime), a dishonest cheating human being who hates losing (manga). I do share in lux-mea-lex's perspective on L doubting his own humanity and how it fuels a certain self-hatred for distrusting everyone around him. As lux mentions, "love comes with trust" and L is an excellent detective precisely because he questions everything and everyone — but it comes at a cost: his own loneliness. To draw a parallel, L's ultimate flaw — and that which makes him great at his job — is not unlike what we see during the moments of extreme anguish that Veronica Mars goes through in her personal relationships and which draw people away from her when she oversteps boundaries to prove she's not being lied to. That mistrust comes from experience, for people burdened with having seen too much and it's not unlike a kind of paranoia acquired when one has to deal with the worst of humanity on a daily basis.
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Full reciprocity
L: [F/N] you’re the light that illuminates the dark night. That’s an exaggeration of course, but… L: What I need to live is glucose… and to talk to you. Nourishment for my brain and heart. L: When we’re together, I feel like there’s no problem we can’t solve. L: The afternoons I get to spend with you are precious to me.
When the MC achieves the stage of full reciprocity with L, he's very open to showing vulnerability and lowering his emotional defenses. I found this to be particularly sweet, as L is such a secretive man with so many hidden layers that him being willing to show such honesty with that one person he holds dear is incredible character development.
Beyond the game, I would say that achieving this stage with L would be much more difficult and, naturally, would involve going beyond picking the best sweets for him.
Something important to keep in mind is that L seems to value acts of service, as the people who interact with him more closely have some utility value and aid his work. However, L's life revolves around his work; he lives and breathes his detective work, which is why having a partner who brings him peace would be so important.
L: The time I spend with you is as important to me as the sweets. L: Good morning. It makes me really happy to see you here. L: For your sake… I’d think of a way to get through anything. We share a bond. L: When you have time, I’d like to take you to a shop that makes the best sweets. L: When you’re free, how about we play tennis together? I will have Watari reserve a court. L: If something were to happen to me… I want you, as the person I hold dearest, to carry on the L moniker. L: When my thoughts hit a dead end late at night, I feel like I’m stuck in a maze. But, having you here makes me feel reassured.
I also found it very sweet how L takes the initiative to plan for activities to do together with the MC. And how their presence, their reassuring words make him feel at ease. It seems that a loving relationship would give L a goal in life beyond his work.
Carrying on the L moniker... this quote might be the result of L's trust in the MC growing during the events of the game, or a sentiment L nurtures due to the MC being attentive enough to understand his specific cravings. But being able to read L and having the mental dexterity to become him are different things, as the latter involves a lifestyle that few would want and a complete focus on work. Even FBI agents have lives beyond work.
L: I learned from you that sweets are the bond that brings people together. L: You give me true peace of mind. No one could ever replace you. L: The way I am now, I… I can’t think straight when you’re not around. L: Being able to share this sunset with you, I couldn’t ask for anything more. L: You understand, don’t you [F/N]? What my heart so strongly desires is something more… L: When I talk to you, I feel like my senses are sharpened. Thanks to that, my radar has become more sensitive.
What a sweet guy. I love how L focuses on the little things and just wants to spend time together with the person he holds dearest. It's almost as if he daydreams a close, loving relationship — a trait that clashes with L's logical side.
This game and the expanded universe of Death Note have convinced me that there are many more layers to L than what we can see in the main story.
As Fu Takahashi, who plays L in the 2020 Japanese version of the musical, said:
“(...) A common thing about L among these versions is that, despite his superficial image as a smart guy who hates losing, he actually feels lonely and needs affection, I imagine. Perhaps he is an orphan – his character suggests so. He tries to control his emotions, like the feelings towards his parents, or romantic feelings; that’s why he is sort of dependent on games or battles of the mind. So I want to play L while thinking about the foundations on which his personality has been formed.”
I think this quote and the game are actually very telling of L's core personality and how it moves beyond that cold, calculating persona that defines him in the manga. It's also more in line with the characterisation that we see in the anime and the books, which help humanise L.
As I mentioned elsewhere, learning how to trust and be comfortable around someone else would do L wonders. Though that person would have to accept him for who he is and help him learn how to navigate a healthy relationship.
Perhaps the true test of love, for L, would even be for him to be confronted with someone who knows who he really is and, is not only kind to him, but also sees the best in him — regardless of his flaws. I think that we've had a glimpse of it in this game and it's a breath of fresh air.
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peachsukii · 6 months
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⭑˚. ⇢ you make a gift for katsuki's 18th birthday.
-`☆ day one of the explosive birthday celebration ! ☆´-
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It's the week of Bakugo's 18th birthday - you and all of class A have plenty of plans arranged to make it special for him! You know he's going to feign ignorance, like he doesn't care about all of the love and support, but deep down is a sucker for it. Midoriya and Kirishima had all of the party supplies ready to go, stored secretly in their dorm rooms. Sato bought all the ingredients he'd need to make snacks and a cake for the party while the girls stashed away a bunch of party favors, splitting up everything between their rooms. Everyone was ready to celebrate their favorite explosive hero!
There's was just one thing left for you to do - find him a present.
What exactly did Bakugo want? He never vocalized desiring anything material in nature, not even All Might memorabilia. Getting him a gift card felt a little flat for such a milestone birthday, you wanted him to feel appreciated. With everything the class has gone through in the last three years, especially him and Midoriya, he deserved to be spoiled and shown how important he is to everyone.
In your mind, you went through the things Bakugo liked: hiking, cooking, All Might, spicy foods...maybe novels? You'd heard from Midoriya that he loves to read, but you didn't press him on what exactly his favorite genre was. Scribbling a bunch of ideas into a notebook, you brainstormed for awhile before the perfect inspiration struck - you can make him something!
Immediately, you call Midoriya to run your idea by him.
"Hey! What's up?" he answers cheerfully.
"Hi Izuku! I'm prepping a present for Katsuki's birthday and wanted to get your input. You got a few minutes?"
"Of course! What did you have in mind?" Midoriya seemed pleased that you chose him to help with your little creation for his best friend.
"Here's what I'm thinking..."
───
Later in the day, you return from the craft store with Midoriya, a couple of bags in hand with supplies for your gift. He helps you carry everything back to your dorm room and unloads it all onto your desk.
"Do you want any help making the book?" he offers.
"I think I'll be alright, but if you could get that recipe from Shoto, that would be a huge help!" You dump the supplies out onto your desk, spreading everything out neatly to begin working.
"Sure! I'll go ask him for it now. I'll be back soon!"
Midoriya exits your room quietly as you take a seat at your desk, prepping to start working on Bakugo's present. It wasn't anything fancy or flashy, but thought the sentiment was worth more than any lame gift card. You'd decided to make him a custom recipe booklet! It would be blank, with the exception of one recipe, for him to fill in as time goes on. You know how much he loves to cook and thought it would be handy to keep his favorite meals in one place. The first recipe would be a surprise - Fuyumi's mapo tofu recipe. Bakugo wouldn't shut up about it for weeks after going to Todoroki's house for dinner back in their first year. He more than likely had it, but having it be the first in the book sounds like a decent surprise.
A few hours and paper cuts later, you've crafted a cute little recipe booklet, bound with black rings and packed with subtly decorated pages. You chose not to theme the entire thing, more so just adding in areas for him to fill in instructions, ingredients and cooking time to the pages for reference. The cover was a burnt orange with a blank label on the front, plastered with a bunch of bright stickers of various styles - smiley faces, leaves, stars, food and other accenting themes. You didn't want to assume what Bakugo would want to label it, so you left it blank with some letter sticker sheets inside the cover. The rings are able to be opened, that way he can add additional pages in the future and expand the collection.
Your phone buzzes on the corner of your desk, a text notification from Midoriya appearing on screen.
[Izuku] stopping by with the recipe! [You] great! doors open, just come in when you're here
Midoriya knocks on your door a few minutes later, slipping inside your room and waltzing over to your desk. He looks down at the book you've crafted, eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Awww! This is so cool, he's going to absolutely love this. Don't be offended if he doesn't say it though," he jokes, shaking his head with a smile on his face. "You know he's still not great at expressing that kinda thing."
He hands you the recipe on a piece of paper. "Here, I wrote it down for you. Fuyumi's ecstatic you asked for it!"
"Thank you!" you gleam, studying the page's contents. "This'll work perfectly."
Midoriya leaves you to finish your present in peace. You copy over the recipe information onto the first page, organizing it neatly by the sections you created. It's finally finished! At least, that's what you thought until one last detail popped into your head.
Grabbing a black marker, you add in a short and sweet message to the inside cover of the book: "Happy 18th birthday Kats! Looking forward to years of your cooking. - ♡ (Y/N)"
Your heart flutters in your chest as you stare at the words, hoping he'll smile seeing it anytime he opens his recipe book. You grab the muted orange wrapping paper and neatly fold and tuck the book into it, tying it together with a black bow.
Waiting until the end of the week to see his reaction is going to be torture, but worth the wait to see him smile.
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extremely flattered to be included in kae's bakugo birthday celebration series! be sure to check out each story this week leading up to his birthday on 4/20 ♡
⇢ master post
-`☆ ᴅᴀʏ ᴏɴᴇ: Coming April 14th - @zanarkandskylines
ᴅᴀʏ ᴛᴡᴏ: Coming April 15th - @xbabyd0lli3x
ᴅᴀʏ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ: Coming April 16th - @angels-fantasy
ᴅᴀʏ ꜰᴏᴜʀ: Coming April 17th - @starieq
ᴅᴀʏ ꜰɪᴠᴇ: Coming April 18th - @lowkeyremi
ᴅᴀʏ ꜱɪx: Coming April 19th - @queenpiranhadon
ᴅᴀʏ ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴ: Coming April 20th - @cashmoneyyysstuff
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((inspo for the recipe book! it would obvi not be as aesthetic when he'd use it lol but it would have a little decorative templates for him to fill in)) 💥🎁 tags; @gina239 - @mystic60 - @meowze4r - @icedemon1314 - @bigsimpo343 - @ah-mya - @whezdostuff - @berry-vioo - @seonne - @slayfics
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alchemistc · 3 months
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So about that deleted scene:
(shovel) talks - read on ao3
"So how many shovel talks should I be expecting?" Tommy asks, once the cake is mostly gone and Eddie and Christopher have wandered off. He tilts his voice low, so as not to draw the attention of Eddie's aunt, who has been eyeing him closely since he came back without any cake for Evan.
"Shovel what?" Evan's eyeing the cake.
"You could just have a bite," Tommy tempts, letting his grin go a little teasing, waving his fork a bit for emphasis, and Evan sighs. Pats his stomach, which Tommy is intimately familiar with, and very fond of, even if Evan wants to be a bit more cut.
"You're trying to deflect. Who gave you a shovel talk?"
"So far?" There's no reason to keep it going, really, except when Evan gets exasperated he huffs and puffs about it and Tommy - he doesn't not like his little attempts at dramatics.
Evan rolls his whole head in an effort to emphasize how much he's not in the mood, but his smile gives him away. It always does.
"Well, Hen and Karen just accosted me. Christopher's already promised anatomically improbable harm."
Evan, if anything, looks a little chuffed about that. Considering some of the things he's gleaned about his home life growing up, it's not all that strange.
Still, it doesn't hurt to ask. "They do know you're an adult, right?"
"Y-yeah, of course they know. It's - you know, that whole family thing you were so jealous of sometimes includes them being a little overbearing."
"Personally, I think they were just looking for some gossip."
Evan's face goes red. "Uh - that might be - that might be my fault. I'm... usually an over sharer."
"Is there something wrong with what I'm doing that you don't feel like over sharing?" It's a dirty ploy, but he's already over invested in this, in them. He wants to weasel a bit of praise out of Evan, even though he hasn't exactly been shy about it to this point at all.
Evan's face does something - a series of tiny expressions he'd have been hard pressed to catch if he weren't staring so closely - before he kicks at Tommy's foot under the table. "You're teasing me again."
Tommy doesn't hide his grin, even as he shovels his fork around the plate to get the last of the frosting off. "Can you blame me?"
Evan's blush is deep deep pink, but he still bites his tongue, tilts his head, tips his foot so that he can slide his toes around Tommy's ankle. He really, really wasn't kidding when he joked that he was trying his best to keep up.
He taps two knuckles against the table, looking like he's physically restraining himself from reaching for Tommy's hand. "It's - it's not like I don't talk about you. I just - some of it I wanna keep for myself."
Tommy fields fifty questions a day at work about the man who has him smiling to himself randomly, checking his phone and losing track of conversations because something ticks at a newly made memory of Evan Buckley. He understands the urge to keep some of those memories for himself.
"So what have you told them?"
He's picking at the thread, trying to unravel it, and he doesn't know why. He's more than satisfied with the state of things as they are now. Things are... different than he's used to, this early in. He's never been with someone so intent on getting to know him, spending time with him, so ready to share himself. It's intoxicating, really, and Tommy's never had a great handle on when to cut himself off.
Evan's expression is overly fond, and Tommy feels the thrill of it down to his toes.
"I told them about our date at the aquarium," he says, eyes sparkling a little. It had been a spur of the moment thing, Evan texting him for three days straight about hammerhead sharks, Frederickson mentioning his son-in-laws obsession with manta rays and the glass-side dinner they offered Saturday's and Sunday's. Evan's eyes drifting to the creatures in the water only half-as-often as they drifted to Tommy, and the air expanding in Tommy's lungs every time that smile landed on him.
Tommy hums.
"I told them a... very abridged version of you trying to teach me Muay Thai."
Evan, gleaming and wide eyed, pinned beneath Tommy, his hands giving up any pretense of doing anything but bracketing Tommy's hips, the gentling kiss Tommy'd placed to the birthmark over his eye before Evan whined and Tommy decided he was done playing games.
"Well, now Hen thinks I lied to her." Tommy jokes, and Evan's brow jumps quizzically. Tommy can't quite help it. Even with Gerrard here, even with eyes around them, even though they'd both decided together to keep the contact to a minimum, this being a work event and all - he reaches out and taps his finger to Evan's nose just to see his face crinkle in confusion. It'll have to do, with friends and family and colleagues all around them, but he can feel the urge to drag him in, to give Evan a taste of the frosting still on his lips, to press their bodies together and feel Evan's heart beat beneath his. The desire is there, crawling beneath his skin, and Evan watches him lean back in his chair like he knows every spare thought rattling around in Tommy's head.
"I told them you make me stupid happy," Evan says, all bright and sincere, something softening around the edges of his eyes, and the cage around his heart strains under the pressure of the muscle pressing for freedom.
Tommy darts a look around the room. Things are winding down, families with children drifting off early to enjoy having the day off, members of the 118 returning to their duties now that they've been thrown back on the dispatch register, higher ups huddled off in groups whispering to themselves about how they all would have been fired if Chief Simpson wasn't gunning for a promotion. Evan tips forward, chin dropping to the bridge of his hands with a grin.
"What do you tell the Harbor people about me?"
"Oh, absolutely nothing," Tommy says, standing, tilting a hip sideways so that he can hide the thumb the presses to the divot of Evan's chin. "If I did they'd think you'd bewitched me."
Evan's smile curls over his cheeks with the dopey expression Tommy's grown to adore.
"Let's get out of here before we get recruited for cleanup."
Evan looks like he's thinking about staying, anyway, so Tommy sweetens the deal. "I told Hen and Karen you were setting the pace. Are you gonna make a liar out of me again?"
Evan barely waits until they're out of sight before he's got two hands bracketing Tommy's hips from behind. Tommy knows he's staring at his ass - can't quite blame him. He works hard on making it look good in dress blues.
They manage to make it to the far side of Tommy's truck before Evan spins him, presses him to the passenger door before Tommy can get it open for him. "When we get home," he starts, too busy pressing his tongue to Tommy's pulse point to notice Tommy's quiet inhale at the phrasing. "I'm gonna take this uniform off of you, piece by piece, and then I'm gonna blow you so good you see stars."
"We should both wear our hats," Tommy negotiates, hoping to keep it light enough that he won't hone in on 'home'.
"The medals can stay too," Evan says, and sucks a bruise into the side of Tommy's neck when Tommy tilts his head back to laugh.
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dolicekiss · 3 months
Note
Hi I'm not sure if you're taking requests (i don't know how the request work so sorry)
Could u write a one-shot, where Reader and Duncan have a mission and them go to the place but before do the work, they arrive at a hotel and them only rent a room with one bed (obviously) Duncan tells her that he'll take the bed and she'll sleep on the floor, then he go to take a shower and she doesn't care about his request and takes the bed, Duncan comes out and them start to fight because she didn't listen him, until she suggests that both take the bed (Duncan don't like the idea but don't decline and just does it) after a while she stars to tempt him at first he's angry bout all the situation, but the moment takes another path and u alr know (smut) if u r comfortable with ofc. (And sorry my english isn't great sorry for the type errors)
This is an idea of one chat with a bot of c.ia but the bots r not as good as a writer <3
♡: anon i know about this bot and i have done some freaky stuff w it 🤭 i love this request
Contumacious
PAIRING: Duncan Vizla x Bratty!Reader
CONTENT WARNING: smut (18+, mdni), unprotected sex, age gap (reader is in her twenties), bratty reader, dominant duncan, tension, oral (male receiving), duncan calls reader ‘little girl’, overstimulation, choking, hair pulling, biting, slight blood, degrading, talkative duncan, slight (very minor) fluff at the end.
SYNOPSIS: On a mission, Duncan decides to stay at a hotel room for further planning and to rest. But when he orders you to take the floor and decides to stake his claim over the bed, things become heated between the two of you.
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Duncan didn't expect to see a single bed in the room when he stormed in, along with you, who carried your own bag of basic necessities.
Frustration was as clear as water on his rough features when he realized he'd have to sacrifice a good night's sleep if he were to allow you slumber along him.
So he didn't sacrifice shit.
The man dropped his duffle bag over the bed, in a way branding it as his. “I get the bed, you get the floor.”
You couldn't even oppose because he'd already left for the bathroom, assuming to take a shower. Your lips formed a frown, brows furrowing. Just who did Duncan Vizla think he was? You both were equals on this mission, sent by Damucles to strike down a Mexican mob boss.
Duncan being older didn't mean he could do as he wished. You stood firm on give respect in order to receive it, age had nothing to do with it. You also placed your bag on the bed and slipped off your boots, sprawling across it.
If you had to take the bed forcefully, then so be it.
When Duncan was finished with his shower and came out, he was the least bit pleased with the sight afore him. You on your stomach, laying on the bed, feet up in the air and oscillating.
His bushy eyebrows scrunched in irritation. The man stormed towards you, standing right in front of you and you lifted your gaze up fron the pistol in your hands. Only to acknowledge him before going back to toying with the weapon in your hands.
That only worked to raise his anger more.
“I told you the bed is mine. Get your little ass off it.” You lifted your head, to face him and then slid off the bed. Now standing right in front of him — gaze unwavering and posture strong. Duncan knew you were one hell of a stubborn brat. He'd come across you before and he hated every bit of it.
You placed your hand on your hip.
A pose that struck him with a lash of irritation.
“It is a big bed and who are you to claim it first? Just because you're old, you think you can come in here and order me around?” Duncan’s eyes flared up. Nostrils expanding and the anger on his face was like embers swirling in lava.
He took a step forward. “Listen here, little girl. I might be old but you could never reach the amount of missions I have been successful at, nor do you know real struggle. Try sleeping in the Siberian Winds with no clothes, not a single thread to cover your damn body.”
You couldn't believe it.
He was rubbing his life experiences in your face as if he didn't himself chose to work for Damocles.
He became the black kaiser because he wanted to.
In the heat of the prickling anger, you also stepped forward. Your chest brushing against his. “You chose that for yourself but I won't let you choose the bed. Either we both sleep on it together or you take the fucking floor. There's no way in hell I'm sleeping on the floor.”
Duncan groaned.
He knew of the abundance stubbornness you possessed. There was no way you would back out, knowing that the way you got yourself snuck into his mission was by being completely adamant and demanding money if not allowed in.
But he too couldn't retreat, as his pride was on the line. “I could easily throw you on the floor, little girl.”
You snickered. “I'd like to see you try.”
Duncan stared at you. Drinking in your petite form and how small you were in comparison to him. Primal and dark was what stirred within the base of his abdomen when his mind finally grasped on how pathetic you were. Indeed you were a trained killer, amazing at martial arts too but Duncan knew against him you stood no chance.
Due to the diligence of your work and mission, Duncan never really focused on your features.
Your challenge nearly caused him to pick you up and toss you on the damn floor. Duncan raised his hand — fingers opening to wrap around your throat. The inside of his fingers brushed across your throat and you swallowed tightly, waiting for him to act out his aggression.
Duncan’s hand fell.
Your brow raised at his defeat. “Fine but you better keep at your side. If I see a damn leg or arm of yours on my side, you best believe I'm choppin’ it off.”
You dismissed him with your hand and Duncan’s hand formed into a fist. He really wanted to teach you a lesson. Hating how you paraded around Damocles like you were the only one, an egoistic but skilled assasian.
Just for the sake of the mission, Duncan let it go.
He settled on the bed on one side and watched you take out your own clothes from the duffle bag, making your way to the bathroom. In your hand were some panties and a loose, button up shirt. It was what you'd managed to pack in a hurry when you were told about your mission with Duncan.
Honestly, you sort of looked up to him.
No one was as heavily respected in Damocles as he was.
The Black Kaiser.
Aim perfect and sharp. He knew so many ways to discard the enemy and you'd only witnessed a few of them on this mission. It filled you with unbridled excitement when you'd finally landed yourself with him.
Your shower was relaxing. Warm water soothing all your strained muscles — the combat sure taking its toll on you. Slow hands caressing the skin, ridding of it any dirt that lingered. After done shampooing your hair and washing your body, you dried yourself and changed into your clothes.
The outfit was sultry to say the least but you knew Duncan was a man who would never find you attractive.
You knew of his irritation and annoyance aimed at you. It was honestly adorable at times how he got pissed, finding joy in pushing at his buttons.
When you stepped out of the bathroom, Duncan’s head snapped into your direction and his expression hardened. There you sauntered towards the bed with bare thighs and plush breasts peeking out from within the confines of your shirt.
He swallowed, his adjustment of himself not slipping past you.
You laid down on the bed and let out a sigh, finally finding peace. A good night’s rest was surely needed and this bed could provide it all. As you shifted to find a comfortable position, your shirt rose up in the friction exposing the black lining of your panties.
Duncan caught a glimpse of it.
His eyes darkening.
“Could've worn something warmer.” Duncan said, not looking at you. A scowl made its way across your face as you sat up, body strength on your palms. Leaning forward made your loose shirt fall by your sides, cleavage revealed.
“You got a problem with everything, old man.”
He rolled his eyes.
“Is that your only retort? Calling me old?” He snapped, staring at you. For a moment his gaze lingered to your lips and then back up to your face. Eyes filled to the brim with frustration and something – dark too. Lust or maybe anger.
“Are you not old? I bet you can't even get it up anymore.” You chuckled and that seemed to have crossed the line. Duncan reached for you, hand entangling in your hair. You felt him tug on the roots and pull you closer, face only a mere inches away from yours.
Your breath hitched.
Fighting him right now could get really dirty and you wanted to see how far Duncan was willing to go. His action only working to entice you. “You really should watch your damn mouth, little girl. I don't take nicely to such disrespect.”
You let out a chuckle. “Accept it. You cannot get it up, old man.”
Duncan’s fist tightened, nostrils flaring at your impolite words. You stared at him, your tongue slithering out like an enticing snake and running across the plump of your lips in an attempt to seduce him. “Or can you? I've heard older men fuck better. Is that true, Duncan?”
Duncan growled.
He tugged you down, to between his legs. Duncan nuzzled your face against the tent in his trousers. His bulge protruding as he shoved your face against it. “Does that look like I can't get it up, little girl?”
You shook your head slowly, hands hastily moving to pull down his trousers, paired with his briefs. His cock sprung out, nearly hitting you in the face and a soft gasp escaped your lips. It was big — fucking massive and you hadn't expected a man of Duncan's age to have such a big cock. Precum sheened over his tip.
It was thick and you knew the pain of the stretch inside you would be delicious. Veins ran from its base, disappearing underneath the pink tip. Your mouth watered at the sight, fingers gently wrapping around the girth.
A sweet hiss fell from Duncan’s lips.
You parted your lips and pushed out your tongue, running it in little licks over his tip, managing to taste his salty precum. Duncan’s breath grew heavier along each lick — chest moving in a slow rhythm.
His fingers still drowned in your hair. Duncan tugged harder, an indication for you to pick up. So you did, wrapping your lips around his tip and sucking it in, taking his fat cock all the way into your tight mouth until it had fully disappeared. You could feel it slip past the little uvula hanging in the air of your mouth, the warm flesh feeling like embers over your tongue.
“Jesus, you're pretty good at taking a cock.”
A giggle almost slipped — you attempted to breath through your nose and salvated around his throbbing dick. Your eyes met Duncan’s drowsy ones and as you whimpered, the vibrations from your throat shot straight through his abdomen.
His hands guided down your head furthermore, burying your nose into his neatly trimmed pubic hair.
Duncan pulled you up, only to slam his cock back inside your mouth. A repetitive action, his thighs shaking and flexing whenever the wetness and constriction of your throat welcomed him. Panting like a hungry beast, he fucked himself into your mouth.
Hips snapping up in desperate thrusts to gain his release.
“Good little girl. This is what your mouth is made for—what it's supposed to do.” He grunted when your struggles began in the form of small hands lightly punching at his thick thighs. “You're only a cocksucking little bitch.”
Tears stung your eyes from how horribly you gagged all over him. His tip repeatedly hitting the back of your throat while moaning out loud. Divulging his pleasure to the people outside the hotel room.
Duncan loved the way you gagged around his cock. Tears sitting prettily in your beautiful eyes and he couldn't help but feel himself come near at the sight of you, this weak and pathetic underneath him. If he'd known sharing a bed would lead to this, the man would've given up in one single breath.
“Fuck—fuck. I'm close, I'm so fuckin’ close, my little girl. Keep suckin’ my cock like that, like the filthy bitch you are.” Duncan was vocal.
That was for sure and you enjoyed every bit of it.
After fucking your mouth for quite some time, Duncan finally shot loads of warm fluid down your throat. You struggled, kicking and thrashing everywhere but he didn't let go. He only continued to ride out his orgasm, feeling his own cock lubing up in the process of fucking his cum down your throat.
When he let you go, you promptly pulled back with a loud gasp. A sharp intake of oxygen. Cum and saliva dribbling in rivulets down your chin, tears wetting your cheeks. Duncan watched as your tits rose up and down, bouncing down slightly whenever you dragged in air.
Your eyes widened when you saw how Duncan’s soft cock suddenly became hard again, rising up. Curved and strong — tip caressing his abdomen. It was embarrassing for you because you'd called him out for not being able to get it up, here he was. In his late fifties, ready to fuck you dumb.
“Fuck you lookin’ at? Hop on.”
Your pussy throbbed. An insatiable ache that only his delicious cock could satisfy. You tossed one leg over his waist, while holding his cock with your hand. Aligning it at your hole, you finally sunk down on it. Duncan and you groaned in unison.
Feeling his cock enter you was such an indecipherable feeling. He filled you all the way, his tip reaching your womb almost. You placed both your palms over his chest, running your nails into the grey and black hair on his chest. Your lips parted, eyes rolled as you fully consumed him.
“Such a hungry fuckin’ pussy you've got. Taking me all the way in.” Duncan raised his hand and smacked your ass. “Cmon, move now.”
You obliged — beginning to grind your hips. In a slow back and forth rhythm. Duncan’s head was thrown back, pressed into the headboard while both his hands settled at your hips. Helping you grind down on his cock. You didn't even want to move, that's how much you fucking relished in him filling you up but then he lifted you, slamming you back down on his cock.
“Yeah, just like that.” He growled when you started to slide up and down. Hopping like a damn bunny in heat, feeling his veiny thick cock rub at your sensitive walls. Your whines were loud and prominent through the room as you held tightly onto his broad shoulders.
Lips agape and hair wet from the shower, it made you appear ten times prettier than you were. Duncan’s cock only hardened more, if possible inside you. The tremor in your whole frame was slowly becoming known to him and he scoffed, a breathty grunt leaving his lips. “Can't even fuck yourself on my cock and you have the audacity to speak to me with disrespect.”
“I'm sorry,” came a whimper from you. Nails digging into the skin of his shoulders, dragging them down into tiny slits.
Duncan helped you ride him, both his hands tugging at the flesh of your rear. He drove himself into you, in and out, in a fast rhythm. It was all too hot. Your body felt like it was boiling up and Duncan’s hands moved up to hold your breasts, thumbs flicking the nipples.
Dark brows furrowed and lips fallen apart, he let out aggressive grunts like some hounddog that couldn't have enough of you. “Pathetic whore. Jus’ a pathetic little whore who needed to be fucked. If—fuck,” he grunted, balls throbbing. “If you craved a cock this badly, you could've said so.”
Your eyes squeezed shut and walls gripped him like a vice. Duncan leaned forward and bit down on your shoulder, teeth digging into the skin hard enough to draw blood. He continued making you ride him, loving the way your tits bounced in his hands. A feeling driving him delirious.
The sound of skin against skin grew.
A languorous heat spread in your lower stomach. An indicator of your upcoming orgasm. Duncan’s hands kept playing with your soft mounds — his teeth littering bite marks at where your neck and shoulder became one and the way his hammered his cock inside your cunt was enough to push you over the edge.
Your arms flew to his shoulders, holding him tightly. “Duncan, ‘m gonna cum. ‘m so close, please.”
He looked up at you, loving the warmth you produced when you'd clung onto him like a koala to a tree. He pressed his lips over yours, something he himself was in shock at. His teeth tugged at your lower lip, sucking on it and as the kiss warmed, so did your cunt.
Duncan groaned as you slammed down on his cock repeatedly. A strong and soul chilling orgasm tearing through you. Eyes rolling back to your head and whimpers of sensitivity echoing in the room. He held you tightly as you came, enjoying how your little frame suffered from convulsions under his hold.
Duncan didn't give you a chance to even register your climax. He'd already began thrusting up your cunt, arms wrapped around your waist in a bone crushing hold. “Wait—wait! I still— oh my god.”
He didn't let you relax.
After all he too needed to cum.
Duncan could feel the throbbing sensation in his balls and the pulsating of his fat cock inside you. With a few, harsh strokes delivered inside your pussy, he released himself and your head buried in his neck from the feeling of being filled to the brim. His hot cum shot out, rope by rope, decorating the gummy walls of your pussy.
You could feel all of it.
Heightened sensitivity.
Your body went limp over his, leisurely dropping and Duncan held you. Both of you panted like wild animals who'd just got done finishing their preys. Your breathing was uneven and your throat was parched. Duncan heaved out, his low groans sending waves of sparks to your aching cunt again.
Thick fingers running up and down your bare back, with his other hand he caressed your hair. He wasn't rough when it came to sex but at times he felt like destroying your cunt whenever you'd speak to him in that stuck up, vicious little tone.
Duncan’s hand that played with your hair suddenly tightened, fingers pulling on the soft locks and you whimpered.
You were thrown off his lap on the bed. Appalled at his actions, you turned to look at him but Duncan only pressed your head further into the bed with his large hand. His other hand pulled your lower body, bending your knees.
“Wh-What are you doing?” You gasped out, the question coming out muffled.
Duncan let out a chuckle. “You thought we were done, hm? There ain't no way we're done with one round, little girl.”
You couldn't even resist as Duncan sunk his cock into you. Back arching and spine curving, a muffled whine of need and satisfaction echoing. He held you down as he thoroughly fucked you, his hips colliding with yours. Balls hitting the swollen stripe of your cunt.
“Look at you.” His bated breath increased your libido, as you were also speechless at his. Duncan was still ready to go on meanwhile you were struggling with staying still. Tired and drained from all his harsh strokes.
His grip on your hair tightened as he pulled you up to his chest, locking you firmly. Duncan pulled out then pushed right back into you, his tip reaching your womb. A small bulge forming on your stomach everytime he slammed back into you. Tears of overstimulation dropped like pearls on your face and Duncan moaned in your ear.
“Good fuckin’ girl.” He praised.
Your walls clenched.
Duncan hissed and felt his strokes become steady, dragging across your spongy walls to feel them. Then he climaxed inside you, filling you up again once more. This time his cum dripped out of you, making a mess on his own cock and your thighs. Pussy glistening from the slick, cum and your own climax.
Duncan pulled out and pushed you back down on the bed.
He also collapsed next to you.
Chest rising up and down, breath a broken rhythm. You sniffled into the pillows, thighs shivering the overstimulation you'd suffered at the hands of Duncan. He wasn't as cruel as you'd depicted him to be. Duncan reached for you, pulling you closer to him and wrapping an arm around your waist.
His large arm covering the expanse of your chest.
“Sorry, little girl. You piss me off a lot.” He whispered and you flipped to face him, burying your face in his chest. “And I'll continue to piss you off.”
Despite the fact that he'd pretty much blown your back out twice, you still held on to your defiant traits. He let out a laugh, reaching over to grab a cigarette and light it up.
Dragging in a smoke, he brought the cigarette to your lips and your parted them, allowing him to settle it between them. You pursued his actions and released the smoke through your nostrils.
“That feels good.”
Duncan smiled. “Better than my cock?”
“Oh shut up.”
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lovecried · 13 days
Text
˚˖𓍢ִ໋˚ DIVERSE PALETTE!
you always considered yourself diverse within the world of food & the culinary arts, but you realize how inept you are when you meet sukuna. he lets you know that your palette was weak until you tried him.
( fic demographics. ) jujutsu kaisen, sukuna ryomen, fluff & sexually mature | minors, ageless & blank blogs: do not interact & 1544 words.
╰┈➤ chef!sukuna, afab!reader (she/her pronouns), panty thief!sukuna, fingering, slight pussy job, unprotected sex, finger sucking, lowercase intended (i wrote this on my phone lolz), not proofread.
( author's note. ) kinda wanna expand on chef!sukuna now? would love to write a long fic dedicated to it now. it'd be so yummy 😋 !!
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"oh, really?" his chuckle is deep, reverberating from his chest as he listens to you go on and on about the many trips you've taken around the world. how you've tried so many cuisines and the authentic delicacies of the people from whichever country you've made a visit to. you're not even trying to be a pretentious bitch, eyes lighting up in genuine passion as they sparkle under the dim lights of the restaurant of his choice.
the moment he had mention his interests in cooking, never letting you know that he was a chef with a restaurant of his own, you leaned in over the table, your interest evidently piqued as he gives a simple shrug, not finding what about his occupation made him so captivating. this blind date was supposed to fail, he thought. he believed that with the shrug of his shoulders and his dreadful nonchalance would pull you away from him. a sweet thing that sat at a table all along after he was nearly an hour late. eyes that pitied you as you looked around in expectance. truthfully, his plans were to stand you up, but you were badgering his friends and in response, his friends badgered him.
a few of his "friends" or his work colleagues as he preferred to put it, had set him up on one in hopes to get him out of his work. he found nothing intriguing about his career choice, yet he slaved away in the kitchen to perfect his craft. he loved his job, but he didn't see the point in talking about it outside of it. it's what he did, and when he did allot time outside of it, he didn't want to talk about it.
but you? you wore a vermillion dress that went well with your warm undertones, causing you to glow within the stiff building. where everyone else wore the safe colors of black and white, you stood out in the satin cloth that clings to you in a snug fit with gold jewelry that rests against your brown skin and further accentuates your beauty. you're not wearing that much makeup, but sukuna wouldn't know. that's not something he's too familiar, but if you are, it melts beautifully into your skin and it's alluring.
he finds your passion for the topic amusing, noticing that you're picking at your plate with your fork. you've eaten a bit, but not a lot. tapping his feet against the tiled-floor as he took becomes interested, it must be contagious. "what do you think about your food tonight? how does it compare to everywhere else you've been?"
"oh! um..." you stop in your tracks, eyes widening at the tone he takes. you realize that you've done it again. started rambling and made yourself seem like all that you're not. you become hyper aware of everything you're doing, wondering if you're being an asshole by bringing up your experiences. you've been told that you might come across that way. in fact, before arriving to this date, you were told not to bring up your trips. and here you are, doing just that. "um, i'm sorry. i didn't mean to come off a certain way—"
he notices that you drop the fork, letting it fall to the plate with a clank. you start fidgeting with your nails, picking at the skin. an awful habit you've come to have. "i'm no food critic or expert, just a foodie who travels a lot, so i don't think that it'll really matter. the food does taste good though! i just got... a little ahead of myself."
cute, he thinks.
"huh?" you grow flustered at the mumbled comment. you're sure he didn't mean to utter that out loud if you're absolutely sure you caught what he said. it's good to know that you've got his attention somehow.
"hm?" he dismisses it with a clear in his throat. "well, i didn't mean to sound so condescending myself. i just wanted to see if this restaurant was matching your tastes."
the heat bites at your face, as you're quick to dismiss his words. "oh, don't worry! i'll eat anything— everything matches my tastes."
"oh yeah?" his voice grows even huskier. "then im pretty sure you won't mind having a taste of me."
"what... what?" the conversation has took a turn and you're unsure if it's for the better or worse, but sukuna's sitting up in his chair, leaning closer to you to the point you can feel his breath against your skin. you didn't mishear him. you know that for sure just based on the dark gleam in his eyes.
"you heard me," a devious grin graving his features. sharp, carnivorous teeth that peak out from his lips in a dashing grin. "i'm dying to just have a taste of you. i'm sure you wouldn't mind having one for yourself, hm?"
₊˚⊹♡
he's an insatiable creature who's lips you can't help but devour whenever he's in your presence. a man that you can't get enough of and puts all of your endeavors to shame. you've come to learn that he's a man skilled in the kitchen as well in the bed, that first night after your first date with him, putting every other man and every plate into an embarrassed frenzy.
he was bold and passionate, despite what he wanted to deceive you on. his nonchalance could never hide how he yearned and strived to be better and to improve every dish he's created.
"no one's ever mastered anything," he told you once, while he cooked you steamed fish. his callused hands moving delicately across the plate as he handled the food with care. this was a dinner date after all, and he had to improve his little food critic. "there's always some way we can improve."
what you both believed to be one night of heavenly passion turned into more. something genuine being pulled out in the midst of it all. he was right in a sense. it was human nature to have flaws, but you could see none of his. not even with the way he manhandled you in the night, while in the day, he'd hold you like a lady.
he was a course that you had never tasted before. that exploded on your taste buds the moment you kissed him. with a lingering touch and the swipe of his finger against your bottom lip before he intoxicated you with his divinity. he was something that had you weak in the knees, ready to bow down to him at any moment's time. he proved to you that your exquisite palette was as exquisite as you made it to be.
his rough, callused hands that are tender from a long day's worth of cooking and preparation for the next hold gently as he carries you over to the bed. lines of blue that traverse his wrists, a thumb padding and rubbing calming circles into your hips. smooth and soft, supple lips that capture yours for a heated kiss— a shared silence between the two of you, minus the huffs of haughty moans and the air you both share.
your whines and whimpers are weak, swallowed by him as he devours you. but you do the same. nimble fingers that grasp at him, arms that wrap around his shoulder and nails digging into his back. he flexes and contracts at the pinch of skin, trying to get impossibly closer. the pile of clothing builds into a haphazardous mess, watching the two of you messily dance towards your bed.
and you bounce when you land on top, a squeal that should all be too familiar with this process. your eyes gloss and shimmer with an expectancy as they take in sukuna's spectacular form. black ink that travel the course of his body, prominent in the dim lighting of his bedroom.
your eyes roam as he unzips his pants, a relief to be unrestrained as he shimmies from out of them and they pool to the floor. black boxer briefs that hug him perfectly and does nothing to hide the growing erection that's underneath. all the while, his eyes stayed on yours, watching how you were so mesmerized with him. one knee causes the bed to dip, the route to you is now muscle memory. he hovers over you, an intimidating spirit that causes your stomach to flutter with butterflies and a pool growing in between your legs.
your fingers reach for the band of his underwear, and with you, he's not afraid to let go. he exhales as he lets you reach inside, fingers that graze and gently pull at the dark hues of his happy trail, combing your digits through the tufts of hair before you feel the base of his cock. you both let out a sound of need— you anticipating his cock and him loving the feeling of you around him. he has a habit of knitting his eyebrows together whenever you give into the urge, thick bushes that allude to one as a guttural sound leaves his lips.
your hands are cold, sending a shiver down his spine as you squeeze slightly at the base. he continues to harden under your hold, the tent in his boxer briefs becoming more prominent despite your hand inside it. your free hand comes to wrap around his waist, feeling each crevice and well-sculpted muscle of him as you drag him down into you. releasing your hand from his underwear, you buck your hips into his erection. you're so heavy with need, wrapping a leg to pull him in immensely as you mewl. "ryo, i need you."
with a menacing smirk, his eyes look down at you devilishly. "'m all yours for the taking."
"i need you t'do something, ryo," you specify, growing whiny at his teasing and bucking your hips further into him. his bulge rubbing against your pussy, your juices seeping through your panties. your back arches from the bed, grinding up into him for the friction and how it feels so good. your chest beats fast, your breathes becoming short with heavy want and desire. it's so bad, you're starting to tear up the longer sukuna withholds action. "please."
"alright." he gives in easy at the sight of a tear prickling the corner of your eye. arms lowering to press his chest into yours and immediately capturing you for a kiss, his hands going straight to cupping your pussy and feeling just how wet you are through the lacy fabric. you both move in a rhythm, further dampening your panties as you exhale in delight. you mewl into his lips, letting him swallow every sound from you as he gnaws on your bottom lip.
rubbing in circles to your clothed clit, soon enough he can hear just how wet you are from his very few actions. he tugs down the underwear, pulling it down by the crotch. you assist in kicking it off, well aware that this might be another pair that'll find itself lost and no longer in your possession now that it's in the hands of sukuna. he's hasty in shoving two fingers inside of you, needing to stretch you no matter how many times the two of you have both shared this bed. you croak out a slightly pained moan as sukuna sucks on your bottom lip, shifting your focus.
your walls greedily suck him in, your juices like a trap as sukuna wants nothing than to create more, to see once more just how your pussy reacts to him. deep inside, his fingers curl inside of you before pulling out. his wet fingers traversing to your clit and taunting your needy hole. you clench, your juices seeping out as sukuna circles your nub. "that's enough, hm? or does my darling need more?"
fingers returning to its home inside your pussy, you whine at the feeling as he sets a moderate pace, fucking you with his thick fingers. your eyes shut, basking in the feeling as you let your body relax into him. no, it's never enough. he fills you with a carnal need that you're not sure you'll ever be able to satiate. he has you addicted, forever wanting more. will this intimacy ever be enough?
"i need more," you finally answer, hands reaching for his erection once more. cupping his cock as he did your pussy. "want you— your cock in me. please, ryo. please."
with a few more thrusts of his fingers, he removed them and lets them dance on your tongue, letting you taste your need for him. your tongue swirls, saliva replacing your slick. he joins you in your hum of delight, missing him tugging down his boxer briefs. a length too heavy that it falls, dark shafts with a mushroom tip, he holds it. rubbing the tip with his thumb, he hisses at how needy he is, feeling how much he himself also wants you.
he plants his length in between your folds, bucking his hips into you as he slides inbetween your pussy lips. his head tilts, fitting it in the crevice of your neck. his breath sends jolts down you, feeling his lips on your jaw as the head of his cock kisses your entrance, slowly sliding in. "it's all yours, love."
and feeling him inside you again, reminds you once more that you've never had anything— anyone — as good as him.
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canisalbus · 7 months
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might be an odd question, but i have a theory after noticing trends amongst artists iv known in my life and SO FAR it's rung true so im expanding sample size
IDK if u know what aphantasia is already so I'm including reference [forgive me if uv already spoken abt this also]
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Where would u say u fit on the scale?
For me I cannot see an apple, I know I am supposed to, or I will see concepts of it [like how the flesh is shiny and holds water droplets but i do not SEE it nor can i hold a clear visual of anything in my mind for that matter it is always flashing IDEAS like components of a visual, never the whole thing]
I'm asking because of people I've asked about this, there's a quality of their art that [i dont know how to put into words WHY] reminds me of each other, and I'm wondering if u will give me the same answer they have because I am a curious little bastard
I'm pretty sure I'm 1? I think I might have one of those brains that operate mostly on visuals. I don't need to close my eyes to see the image in my mind, it just sort of "opens in a different window" and I'm looking at reality and the mental image simultaneously.
It's never a flat picture, I see a 3D model of sorts, and I can rotate it around, cut it into pieces, look "through it" to see it from outside and inside at the same time, and arrange it to different poses if it's a character. Sometimes when I'm drawing something, I imagine what it would feel like to touch it and hold it in my hands, and that helps me to figure out how to convey a better sense of volume and tangibility.
I also think in images (or, like, gifs?) and I've never had an internal monologue. It surprised me when I heard that some people actually have a narrator in their heads, I can't imagine what it's like.
It's not always fun though, sometimes I get pretty nasty intrusive thoughts and they come in forms of vivid and very unpleasant mental images. Like visiting a relative's grave and being hit with a crisp picture of their decomposing body. Or getting those "I could walk in front of that car/ jump down from here" call of the void thoughts and instantly getting a brain illustration of it playing out from an onlooker's point of view and what the aftermath would look like. They're most distressing when it's bad things happening to someone I care about, for example I have a really persistent one about accidentally slamming a door on my cat and seeing him crushed and dying.
Oddly enough it doesn't extend to all visual thinking. My mind's eye and visual memory work well, but I also have severe face blindness and practically nonexistent ability to form mental spatial maps of my surroundings.
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gerec · 2 months
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best long fics? i've only been reading oneshots lately. i like cherik which can be a book too.
To make this list even a tiny bit manageable I'm choosing to define 'long' as over 100k. There are a lot of superb fics on this list, Anon; happy reading!
Nine Eleven Ten by Subtilior (WIP - the definition of a fandom classic with fantastic worldbuilding)
Years later, Charles would remember that day. Sometimes he would wonder if he could have changed anything; other times he would despair over what he had since become. But he would always hold the image in his mind: Raven, laughing, and his thoughts flying alongside her on strong wings, silver-gold through the winter air. Once upon a time.
The stars incline us, they do not bind us by ikeracity, Pangea
Intergalactic Federation pilot Lieutenant Charles Xavier is assigned last-minute to a high profile mission: transporting over two thousand prison inmates from an old and overfilled prison complex to a newer, higher-capacity prison stronghold located on the outer reaches of the galaxy. Just as he's settling down for a long and uneventful ride, things take a turn for the worse after the inmates riot and stage a hostile takeover of the ship, leaving Charles to find himself at the complete mercy of cold-blooded killers and facing the chilling prospect that he might not ever make it back home alive.
A Curious Carriage of Crystal and Cold by Etharei
Charles, a miner from a poor village in the countryside, saves the life of Erik Lehnsherr, scion of a successful business family and the richest man on the planet Eisen. Charles is a telepath and somewhat anxious about it, while Erik abstains from relationships because the lights flicker and doors open and electronics vibrate when he gets too excited.
Also featuring a long-suffering sister, a foul-mouthed bodyguard, and a best friend with a heart that is definitely not gold.
In which there are princes, spaceships, long journeys, and old secrets uncovered. (An AU sci-fi fairytale)
Tessellation by nekosmuse
He had been following Xavier's career for years. He had read and reread and reread again everything the man had written. He had tried, on more occasions than he could count, to recruit Xavier into the Brotherhood, but each request for a meeting had been denied. Aside from his work, no one knew anything about Xavier. Not what he looked like, not the full extent of his power--though from what little they did know, he was by far the most powerful telepath in existence--and not what his intentions were.
The man was a recluse. As far as Magneto knew, Xavier had never once stepped foot outside his impenetrable Westchester manor. And now he was scheduled as the keynote speaker for the largest pro-mutant conference in the world.
The Marriage Bargain by kianspo
Erik Lehnsherr had made a fortune manufacturing steel in Europe. When he wished to expand to the New World, he discovered that no one would do business with him unless he was affiliated with one of the First Families, the creme de la creme of the NW aristocracy. When Lord Marko holds an auction to give away his 14-year-old stepson's hand in marriage, Erik sees his chance and takes it. He has no interest in Charles himself, but now that he has him, can they make it work?
Everyday Love in Stockholm by tahariel
Prompt: Magneto is the ruler of the posthuman world.
His only secret? Charles Xavier, the human he's kept locked in his bedroom ever since his right-hand woman, Mystique, came to him pleading for mercy for her stepbrother, who accepted her mutant form and protected her as a child. The human he started fucking after Mystique was killed in battle, despite the guilt he feels at contaminating even this last promise to the woman who was integral to his life's work and happiness.
The Proper Care of Actors by afrocurl, Clear_Liqueur, Clocks, Etharei (series)
Erik is an A-list action star who is notoriously difficult to work with, until the day he gets cast alongside Charles Xavier, rom-com darling who can charm the pants off movie audiences the world over and apparently even one Erik Lehnsherr. The paparazzi catch them out and about soon enough, and their real-life Hollywood movie romance becomes instant tabloid fodder.
The Associates by ikeracity, Pangea (series)
Being a mob boss' associate has its ups and downs. Having sex in the back of a limo on Valentine's Day is definitely one of the ups.
The Sonnet Series by afrocurl, nekosmuse (series)
Erik Lehnsherr is a visiting professor at Columbia University, as well as an acclaimed and award winning poet. Charles Xavier is a lead researcher with the Genetics Department who is well on his way to tenure. But what happens when Charles has to cancel a class because half his students abandon him in favour of a mysterious new English Lit professor? Naturally he ends up sitting in in the class, where Professor Lehnsherr mistakes him for a student. It's really too bad Erik has such a strict policy against dating students. It's also too bad Erik doesn't seem to know how to use Google.
Space Oddity by MonstrousRegiment, Pangea (series)
Prince Charles Xavier is Deputy Commander of the TEF Heartsteel and the newest mission they've been assigned starts out less than desirable and quickly goes downhill from there. It's alright, though, he'll cope.
It doesn't help, though, that he's in unrequited love with his best friend and Commander of the Heartsteel, War-Prince Erik Lehnsherr.
Nation Building and other Diplomatic Negotiations by Pookaseraph
With the recent passage of a submissive registration law in the United Kingdom, there are now only two industrialized nation with a relatively stable government to have neither a mutant nor a submissive registration law. Erik Lehnsherr, the newly minted King of Genosha, and his Prime Minister Emma Frost intend to take advantage of this turn of events to bring the Xavier Institute to the island nation of Genosha. They both know bringing Charles Xavier, the noted activist of mutant and submissive rights, to the island will necessarily politicize the man, and create all manner of complications. With a constitution not yet finalized and external threats to Genoshan security all around them, Erik, Emma, and Charles will fight for what they believe in to shape Genosha into what it should be.
Do You Love Me by cgf_kat
Charles and Erik have been married for 25 years, thrown together by a mandatory post-apocalyptic pairing system attempting to increase and strengthen the population. They have seven children. They have never spoken of love, but change is on the horizon.
Ritual Self-Torture by TurtleTotem
For the following prompt: Shaw is King, Charles is his royal consort and Erik is a Knight/Lord. Shaw is sterile but his kingdom can't find out, so he asks Erik to impregnate Charles.
He doesn't know Erik and Charles are in love.
But I Would Walk Five Hundred Miles, And I Would Walk Five Hundred More by luninosity (series)
In which Charles isn't really an escort, Erik thinks he only wants a one-night stand, everybody's got a past, and there's quite a lot of sex on the way to the happy ending.
We Met At The Park by StarRose
AU, no powers, based on McAvoy's performance as Martin in Murder In Mind. Unable to sleep one night Erik takes a midnight walk in the local park. He finds himself being followed and propositioned by a rent boy named Charles, and begins to fall rather rapidly for his charms. Charles however has never known what love is, and doesn't recognise it even when it's staring at him in the face. As for Erik, he doesn't realise a creeping illness is slowly affecting Charles, and his dark past is something he couldn't have imagined.
Strict Machine by euphorbic
When Professor Charles F Xavier accepted a visiting professor position in Arizona, he did so in order to be geographically closer to his sister. What he did not expect to find was the living, breathing specter of the sportbike gang-oriented past he’d been trying to put to rest.
A tale of sport bikes, consequences, and sacrifice.
MAD Dogs by ClarkeStetler, Goosenik (series)
Charles and Erik are (loosely) friends with benefits. They don't share personal details, last names, or anything concrete about their lives. This is ruined rather spectacularly when Charles gets recruited by the Mutant Apprehension Division of the FBI. Surprised is a bit of an understatement for their reaction to finding themselves partnered up and sent out on cases with the team.
Bit of a detective fic? Really just an excuse for us to play around with MAD (Mutant Apprehension Division) that we created in Playing House.
A Doll's House by lachatblanche
Welcome to the Dollhouse, where all your dreams and fantasies come true. At a price. Based on the TV show Dollhouse.
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libraryraccoon · 7 months
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Kk so I am too lazy to write on my own but I have come up with a pretty good day dream scenario that you can write for ( I might also do it but maybe not).
But a police officer with a strong sense of justice goes to hell and starts trying to organize after spawning in one of the worst areas in hell, even the overlords are hesitant to go in there. But as they gain more and more power the area to clean up expands.
Their really not a bad person , one of the only reasons their there is because they had premarital sex . ( They banged someone's wife when drunk).
Was killed by the husband by a shot in the chest. Now resemble a fox because of their wit and inganuty.
( in sry if it's too specific but you can cut out anything u don't want)
Gender : GN
Pronouns : None
Message from Raccoon : I try to write a police officer!reader, but i'm pretty sure it's bad.
TW : Reader is in Hell 2 years before the series, 🟣 (one time mentionned), violence.
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General Headcanon
In your lifetime you were a police officer, and a good one at that.
But unfortunately, one day you died and arrived in hell.
The person you loved was cheating on their partner with you. They didn't like it and killed you.
You are now in Hell.
Hell sorely lacked justice, but it's okay, you will rectify it.. :)
Vox didn't like you. Like, really.
He heard about you after you nearly beat Valentino to death.
Why did you beat Valentino ? Because he was a 🟣, forcing people to prostitute themselves, and more.
You also beat Velvette a bit because she created the love potions.
So yes, he didn't like you.
He start to hate you when you broke his head/tv when you saw him manipulating people..
It's hell ! What did you expect ?! Everyone manipulates !
A violent police officer. This is what you were.
You killed everyone who did things against your morals... in one month you killed more than the exterminators ever did.
Adam sees you as a sort of rival/person on his level.
Alastor find you entertained.
You were the only one in Hell with a moral, so you were interesting.
He also finds it very interesting that you manage to beat 3 Overlords and that 2 Overlords (Carmilla and Zestial) consider you their equal.
He wanted to come talk to you, but he decided not to after seeing you kill a demon with an angelic weapon because they were cannibals.
Compared to what you might think, he have a sense of self-preservation.
When you arrived at the hotel, as part of security, Alastor was a little scared..
Especially when you pointed your gun at his forehead, where the hunter had shot, killing him when he was alived.
Bonus point if you are a dog demon, he is really scared and wonders if you want to reproduce his death.
Husk love you and love the fact that you can scared Alastor, he live for seeing that man being your victim.
Niffty love you, she think you are a real bad boy ! RIP
You and Vaggie get along well, you both know that not everyone can be redeemed (looking at Alastor from a distance) and you know how fucked up Hell is.
But you help Charlie because some still have a chance to redeem themselves (looking discreetly at Sir Pentious).
Sir Pentious was afraid of you at first, but in the end he start to like you.
You always get him out of the worst situations, I can imagine that you saw Vox try to use his power on Sir Pentious when he was a 'spy', and you directly destroyed the watch by throwing a knife at it.
Sir Pentious didn't even notice you were here-
After that, a long conversation followed about why we should not harm the Hotel and its residents and avoid the Vees.
Sir Pentious thanked you very much for that by the way.
After that Vox received a little visit from you..
If it wasn't for Charlie stopping you from killing him, he would have died instead of just being injured/broken.
Vox spent a week in repair/hospital.
Angel Dust adores you.
Every time you accompany him to work, strangely Valentino gives him the day off..
Yeah, he takes you with him whenever you can.
Even if you hate the Overlords, you are one of them.
Overlord D/N (demon name), the Police Officer of Hell.
Carmilla loves it when you are at meetings, the other Overlords (*cough* Vees *coughs*) are always calm when you are here.
You 🤝 break into Lucifer's house.
Yeah, because well before the hotel, 3 days after your arrival, you break into Lucifer's house.
Why ? Because you found unacceptable that he didn't manage Hell and let the demons do all they want.
You didn't expect to find yourself faced with a depressed father whose wife left 5 years ago and who he no longer really has contact with his daughter.
You had to play therapist and friend.
Literally you were giving him therapy sessions in exchange of him letting you stay at his house.
You don't even have a degree in therapy.
Lucifer considers you as his lifeline. He clings to you for dear life, metaphorically and literally.
Hurt this man and the next day you will find his corpse-
Is this a healthy friendship ? No, but are you going to ignore this fact and pretend everything is normal ? Yes.
You have changed his point of view on demons, in the sense that some, not all but some, can be redeemed.
I headcanon that you repaired Charlie and Lucifer's relationship, and that before the series.
Greatest dad didn't happen, sorry everyone.
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oh-koenig-my-koenig · 8 months
Text
breaking the bed
(cw: age gap 25/41, nsfw, MDNI, smut)
the part before: gaming with him
I stir awake.
A stray strand of dark hair is tickling my nose. I push it out the way, not really able to move, because two strong arms are wrapped around me. The one is hugging my waist tight, while the other is a pillow for my head. I’m fully engulfed by him.
I turn my head to look at him. His brows are furrowed, even when he's peacefully sleeping like this. Deep breaths, the puffs of air hitting my naked shoulder. The tiniest snores dropping from his lips. His chest expands with every breath, his warm skin against my back. He's spooning me in my sleep. Like the biggest spoon there ever was.
I suppress a giggle, pushing my cheek into his tattooed arm. With a sigh, I snuggle myself against the big burly man. And he might not be awake yet, but one part of him sure is.
I press my ass up against him, rubbing myself on him. Grinding ever so slightly in an effort to stir him awake. And it works like a charm. He hums softly, a little yawn on his lips, as he pulls me even closer to him.
"Good morning.", I whisper, when he presses soft kisses to my face and neck, which make me squirm and shiver.
"A good morning indeed.", he grumbles. His hips are rolling against me now, pressing his length into the swell of my ass, hot and heavy. A little dollop of precum is spreading on my cheek, as he rubs himself on me. His hands roam my body, while I grind into his movements, soft sighs falling from my lips. I look back at him, my fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him towards me, into a longing kiss, while he is gently stroking down my tummy, right to where I want him to be.
It starts off as soft and slow morning sex, but that doesn't last long.
My back is arched back, my face pressed into the mattress, my fingers tangled in the sheets, desperately trying to hold on. My ass up in the air, as he pounds into my pussy.
The whole bed is shaking, the headboard thudding against the wall with each of his thrusts.
Donk. Donk. Donk.
He pulls back every time, almost sliding out of me, only to push in hard again. His hands gripping my hips, jerking me against him. The full impact of his thrusts against my thighs and ass, his dick hits me deep inside, the intense feeling of the tip nudging against the sensitive spot while he fills me to the brim is pulling loud moans from my throat. I'm just praying that my walls are thick enough, so my neighbors won't hear every-thing.
"Fuck, you feel so good.", he groans and my answer is nothing but fucked-out, whiny mewls.
The bed is aching, but I don't even notice it, the pleasure coursing through me, dictating my every thought while my eyes turn up from the hard fuck.
Krieks.
Slam.
Dunk.
And suddenly the mattress isn't propped up on the bedframe anymore. It tumbles down onto the floor, the slats breaking with loud bursts.
König falls forward as the bed breaks, almost squishing me before he can prop himself up on his arms. I shriek from the sudden movement, getting pushed forward.
He slips out of me, as I turn to look at him, our faces painted in shock. And we both realise what just happened.
"So a Scheiß, ah, fuck, I'm so fucking sorry.", he curses, sounding as sorry as he says he is, trying to get up from the mattress in between the broken parts of the bedframe.
But I can only laugh, the laughter shaking my whole body, that was at the brink of orgasm just moments ago.
“We broke the bed.”, I wheeze, in between bursts of laughter, when he finally finds his footing again, straightening up. He holds his hands out to pull me to my feet as well.
“Well, I think that’s my fault.” He assesses the damage, the big naked man looking at the less than sturdy bedframe, the broken slats. I mean, I didn't buy the most expensive one. But this is kind of ridiculous.
I shake my head, still laughing a bit. Breaking the bed. I look to the side up at him and I can tell that this is making him feel bad. It’s written on his face.
"Don't worry about it, it's just a piece of furniture.", I tell him, trying to push some of his guilt away.
"You're not mad?", he asks, a little incredulous.
"No, not really. There are worse things.", I tell him, truthfully, adding then: "Though I would still like to have a bed to sleep in."
"Yeah, what are we gonna do about that? I don't think, I can fix it up, it's... Too broken for that.", he says, scratching the back of his head.
I shrug. "I'm just gonna take the mattress and sleep on the floor, until I can get a new frame.", I say.
His expression falls, the concerned look turning into a frown, his brows drawing together. "Fuck, no. I can't let you sleep on the fucking floor after I broke your fucking bed."
"While fucking.", I add pointedly, amused with how he drops the curseword like it's a comma.
"I'm being serious.", he says, not seeming amused at all. A little exasperated.
"It's not a big deal, okay?", I try to reassure him. "I'll be fine."
"Hell, no, I can’t let you sleep on the floor."
"Then what?"
"Stay at my place."
"But-"
"Just until we get it sorted out and get you a new bed.", he says. Calmly, but adamant, even though I can see a hint of uncertainty in his eyes.
"You sure?", I ask hesitantly.
He nods. "I'd even sleep on the couch, if that what it takes to convince you.”, he tells me, his thumb softly stroking over my cheek before the pulls back. “No obligations, of course.", he adds.
I shoot him a look, like 'don't be ridiculous'. "You don't need to sleep on your couch in your own home." He probably wouldn’t even fit on there, lying down.
"Yeah, and you don't need to sleep on the floor, just because I broke your bed.", he retorts.
"While fucking me.", I repeat my quip, looking up at the tall, still very naked man.
The corner of his mouth quirks up. "While fucking you.", he says, nodding along.
I laugh and press myself against him. "Has anybody ever told you that you're cute?", I mumble against his pec, my face nuzzling into the pillowy muscle, the dark curls on there tickling my nose.
He chuckles. "No?" Of course not.
I open one eye and look up at him. "Well, then ask yourself why that is.", I joke, which makes him shake with a small deep laughter. And I feel a little better as well cause he doesn't seem as angry with himself. He has no reason to be.
Grinning up at the laughing man, one thought still is on my mind. "And you sure about this?", I reiterate my question.
"Yes, don't worry about it, we will be fine.", he says, leaning down a bit and pressing a kiss to my forehead.
I nod. "Okay. Mimi also needs to come with, though.", I bring up then. I can't leave my cat here, alone.
He thinks for a second, then grins at me. "Can I make another confession?"
"What?"
"This was all a ploy to steal the little furball.", he says, hiding his joking grimace under a mask of seriousness.
"The nerve!", I exclaim jokingly, my hand spanking his butt, once, but as hard as I could, which earns me a hefty pat on my ass as well.
It's settled then.
I get myself ready for work, packing some of the stuff I'll need, and saying goodbye to König for now, because the whole ordeal made me late – again.
"See you later.", he says, dropping another kiss to my lips before getting into his car, a box with some of my necessities on the passenger seat.
"Laters!" I wave after him.
Later when I'm gonna bring the rest of my stuff to him. Mimi as well. To stay at his place because he broke my fucking bed fucking me. I shake my head, shooting my friend Robin a text. They'll never believe me.
next part: wearing glasses or more stuff in the Masterlist~
a/n: this goes out to my moots on tumblr and discord who put the idea in my mind of him breaking furniture while fucking <3
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skyfallscotland · 3 months
Text
Ok so Rebecca did a one hour panel today in Sydney with Lynette Noni hosting, where she asked questions and then they opened it to fans. I've kind of summarised the things I haven't seen mentioned over and over, but I don't frequent the subreddit anymore or use TikTok, so there might be overlap. In any case, it's long. Settle in. I've sectioned it into plot/character relevant first, then themes and interesting facts about her and her writing. Basically, you all came with me. 💗
• In book three (and every book thereafter) we'll be going to more and more new places. She specifically worded it as "watching the map expand" whether that's significant or not, I don't know. (I was thinking Isle Kingdoms for OS, but maybe that's just my wishful thinking).
• She implied Jack will have a reason (explained) for uh...being a power-hungry prick? lol
• She's hella defensive of Dain, which I love. #DainApologistsClub 😌 Some highlights include:
"You guys give Dain so much shit for the same thing Xaden does. You really do and you're so fast to forgive Xaden and not Dain. Why? Is it because he's hot?"
And, "when push comes to shove, all Dain did—yes he violated her boundaries, as does Xaden—but all he did was trust his dad when his best friend no longer spoke to him. That's it."
"When Dain looks at her (in the interrogation chamber) and says 'if you had just told me, none of this would have happened', he's not just talking about the interrogation, he's talking about Liam, he's talking about if she had just trusted him (in Fourth Wing) it never would have happened." 😢
• She was asked about Liam's appearance in the interrogation chamber and definitively put to rest any signet theories involving that. "She's so alone in that moment and...I don't read fan theories but sometimes they reach my ears; she's completely disconnected from her magic in that moment, she can't even reach out for Tairn or Andarna, which are the bonds that are actually most important to her. She can't reach out for Xaden. And that's the one person who would have prevented that from happening the last year, so it's natural that's who her mind would summon."
• She's thought about a spin-off series, but she's just trying to survive this series.
• Someone asked her if there'd be any redemption and romance for Jack Barlowe and honestly, thanks guys, I don't think she's ever coming back to this country 💀 ("Are you getting enough sleep? Uh...I mean, from his prison cell maybe? No.")
• Someone asked "what is Garrick's signet and why hasn't it been shown yet?" (shoutout to this girl, she's the real MVP) to which Rebecca said "it's very much in book three, I love it."
• Someone asked about the orange dragons and unpredictability re: Amber, Jack, Varrish and then Imogen and Brennan. Rebecca said some dragons might look for traits like their own and some look for balance because it's a partnership; and that Brennan as a strategist needed that little bit of unpredictability in his life (lol, I think he got it).
• She didn't always plan for Violet to have two dragons. Originally it was going to be one (Tairn) and the editor had hoped that she would sway towards a weaker, smaller dragon and she thought that was a little too close to Abraxos in ToG, and so they compromised and gave her both. She also went on to say she doesn't like overpowered heroines and since Tairn is extremely powerful, Andarna balanced that out. (I'm not...I'm not sure how that works out? But that's what was said.)
• We are definitely going to find out more about the original six (and Lynette asked if that was a spin-off possibility and was shushed, so she's thought about it at least, but I get the idea she's thought about a lot of possibilities 😂)
• There's no timeframe for the release of the final two books.
• Someone asked if Violet's dad was Malek to which she was kind of shocked. He's not a god, guys. And low-key I JUST WANT TO KNOW HIS NAME. 😤
• On Sgaeyl: "You do (get more of her) but holy crap is she pissed. So—I'll tell you that about Onyx Storm—she is really, really mad at Xaden and she's not exactly speaking to him at the moment. So it's hard for her to speak into that bond when she's not speaking to him." 💔
• She was asked about the Violet dated Halden theory (which was fucking hilarious because the poor girl misspoke and asked if Xaden dated the prince and we were all really confused about which TikToks the poor thing had seen (note to self: consider cam/xaden), anyway after we got to the bottom of that, Rebecca replied, "I think you should read the third book." Which I'm taking to mean, the man is making a damn appearance and we're gonna find out for ourselves 👀 Hey, if I'm lucky maybe we'll even find out his surname
• Finally she said she has EP on the Amazon series, they've all been exceptionally protective of it and that she's happy with how it's going (they're not near casting yet and she doesn't want to really comment on that ever, to leave each role open to as diverse a cast as possible). She said the production team has come to the signings in LA to meet readers and see what they love and are passionate about when it comes to the series to make sure that's honoured.
"Like I mean, I've seen certain...like what can I say without getting tackled to the ground? Let's just say they've already taken steps to make sure that what you guys love about the story is envisioned and that it's not run amok. And I'm very happy with it, they're super protective of it." Which could just be me reading into it, but the first place my brain went was the dragons 👀🐉 and the CGI or whatever.
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• She was asked about where the inspiration for the universe came from and she said that when her Entangled decided they were going to do romantasy they asked her for five pitches and Fourth Wing was one of them (she won't say what the others were because she might still write them someday). She said she likes the fated mates trope but she wondered what that would look like if the dragons were the ones mated, not the humans and the humans who couldn't stand each other were forced to be around each other because of this. 
• Her first ever book was romantasy but it didn't sell
• She's never really written enemies to lovers before.
• She likes found family themes because she was raised in a military family and moved around a lot, so that makes it hard to keep in touch with your extended family, and after she married her husband and became a military wife, it was their found family that was there for her—it was her found family who helped her move her house, who sat with her when her husband was injured in Iraq, etc, so she thinks it's very important to show that your family is also the people you choose and that can be just as strong as any blood tie.
• She was asked (by Lynette) why she wanted to show death and the reality of war and she said, "I've been surrounded by it. My husband's been at war since 2003, he spent 22 years in the army, first as a 19 Delta cavalry scout and then ten years as an apache pilot and we buried our friends. And I saw what it did to him, and I saw what it did to our friends, I saw what it did to our children, to us, and I love being able to examine it from a fantasy perspective just because I think fantasy gives us a unique environment from which to critique our own world by viewing it through the lens of another. And I've always delved into those themes as to why we do this to each other and where is there hope to stop it?"
• As an author her favourite scenes in Fourth Wing were the dagger stealing scene (very important to their chemistry and romantic development—"she's the only person he's taught ever, how to actually kill him") and the first kiss scene.
In Iron Flame it was the interrogation scene and how that ends with Dain and Xaden and everything coming together.
When asked about a similar scene from Onyx Storm that elicited the same strong emotion from her she said "you're not gonna like it" and that's it 💀
• She would consider writing fantasy again after she's done with the Empyrean world, maybe one of her other pitches, but she won't truly think about it until she's survived this one.
• She spoke about the "kill your darlings" writing advice and how if you love a scene but it doesn't move the plot, you've gotta cut it, and how she did that with the final scene in Fourth Wing, which was originally 7k words of Violet POV pulling information out of Xaden.
• When asked about fan theories she actually said something I found a little sad. "I don't listen to fan theories. One, I'm not on TikTok—it's a little bit more important for me to be alive than to listen to what other people think they know about me, and two, I don't ever want fan theories to bleed into my writing."
〰️ And that's it! If anyone's going tomorrow, please voice record the whole thing and report back lmao 🙏 🫶🏼
ETA: part two is here, x
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