#Yes I will write stories simply for the fact i know you enjoy them

[madaboutmunson]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @rvllybllply2014!

Happy Birthday to the reader with the best tags in the business! I cannot thank you enough for being so supportive, and I hope you have the greatest, most marvellous, flippin' fantastic, superb birthday ever @rvllybllply2014!! I wish I had something better as an extra birthday gift, but here is a little Eddie Divider if you ever wanna use it :)

[icemankazansky]

A Simple Guide to Not Being Afraid to Write Comments to Fic You Read

I've seen a lot of posts about the current state of fanfiction comments. Writers, especially writers who have been in fandom for a decade or more, are frustrated by the lack of comments, and have noticed a definite decline in comments (and all other forms of reader interaction) in the past ten years or so. Many readers feel daunted by the expectation of leaving comments, afraid they'll do something wrong. As a fandom old maid, the latter confused me for a while, until I realized that most of the people who feel that way probably have not been taught this form of communication.

But your loving fandom elders are here for you. Come along as your auntie tumblr user icemankazansky makes this shit easy.

The easiest way to think of fanfiction comment etiquette is to compare it to something you likely already know: Gift Receiving Etiquette.

Fanfiction began as largely a gift economy. And a lot of it still is! You'll see authors participate in exchanges like Yuletide and Id Pro Quo; those are ficswaps in which authors write for a specific person to specific prompts. And even outside that, fanfiction is not written for money; authors write and post it simply for the joy of creation and community with fellow fans. Fic is posted free for anyone to enjoy. Is that not a gift?

So. When you as a reader finish the chapter or story you're reading and you are faced with the comment box, try to follow the same etiquette you would when receiving a gift. (And even if you didn't love this gift and it's not your favorite gift ever, we already know that it's more useful than the products from your cousin's MLM that they're passing off as gifts, because you read the story. At the very least, it entertained you for the time you took to read it.)

The big rule of gift receiving etiquette is not to insult the person who gave you the gift, either directly or indirectly. That's it. Full stop.

I've been seeing a lot of comments lately that are just along the lines of, "Thank you for writing this story and sharing it with us." A+, top of the class, full marks, you're doing amazing. If you don't feel comfortable commenting on the story itself, that is perfect feedback. And that's the most basic way you respond to a gift, yes? Thank you for the gift. Thank you for thinking of me. Thank you for sharing.

Does this rule mean that you cannot say anything at all that might be negative about anything? No, absolutely not. What you want to avoid is saying something that is, at its core, a negative evaluation of the author or their work. Let's do some examples.

Character A's obliviousness about Character B's MASSIVE crush on them made me so frustrated! I was tearing my hair out internally screaming, "JUST LET HIM LOVE YOU."

✔️ Excellent comment! You're allowed to have all sorts of feelings about things that happen in the story, and in fact authors LOVE to hear about any emotions they made you feel. Yes, frustration is not a positive emotion, but the thing you are expressing frustration about is not the author themselves or their shortcomings.

Contrast that to:

I was really frustrated that it took you so long to post this chapter. The cliffhanger at the end of the previous chapter had me tearing my hair out, and then you just left us hanging FOREVER!

❌ Nope! Here what you are expressing is frustration with the author and how fast they come out with new chapters. Imagine your sister buys you a gift for your birthday, but she isn't able to give it to you until the next week, and you respond with: "What took you so long?" I think Emily Post would frown on that.

Reframing

The way you say something and the point of view from which you give feedback can have a HUGE impact on the message you're sending. Let's take the last comment (the one about wanting an update) and see what happens when we reframe the same sentiment as a positive:

I was SO EXCITED to see that you updated this story! I have really been looking forward to seeing what happened after the cliffhanger in the last chapter.

✔️ Now it's not an insult. The author will be happy to know that you are happy to see new work from them.

This idea extends beyond the story itself: to the fandom, the characters, the pairing, the tropes, etc. Let's do some examples.

I looooove reading about these sexy boys SO IN LOVE even though the movie you're writing about is SOOOOO problematic.

❌ Nope! Assume that the author enjoys the canon, characters, pairing, etc. in the stories they write. This comment is insulting to the author because it basically says, "That thing you love is not great, and you should probably feel bad for liking it." Imagine your aunt gifts you a sweater from a popular retailer, and you respond with, "This is so cute, I love it! It's a shame that it was made in a sweatshop." Do you have a valid point about the canon or the retailer's business practices? You very well might. Is this the proper time and place to talk about it? Absolutely not.

Let's do a reframing exercise. You should be very careful about how you approach commenting negatively on anything in the story that appears in the tags list, but you can make it a compliment and good feedback if you have the right perspective. See the difference with these two approaches:

I kind of think frottage is disgusting, but I liked it in this story.

❌ Nope! You just told the author you think their kink is disgusting. That's like telling your poor aunt who is just trying to keep you warm this winter that she has awful taste in knitwear. Try again.

Frottage normally isn't my kink, but I love your other stories with this pairing, so I decided to give it a try, and I'm SOOOOO GLAD that I did! This story was 🔥🔥🔥

✔️ "This normally isn't my thing, but you made me expand my horizons!" Authors love to hear that. That's like telling your aunt, "I never thought this color looked good on me, but I look so cute in this sweater! I'm so glad you helped me step outside my comfort zone, because I'm the better for it."

thank u, next

The last thing I want to address is this new trend I've seen in commenting lately: placing an order. If your mom surprises you with new headphones, you don't respond with, "I wanted the white ones 🙁," or, "You should get me a new phone, too." It's easy to see why that isn't appropriate in a gifting situation, and it's also not appropriate when commenting on fanfiction.

Let's do some examples:

This fic was soooo cute, but it would have been a million times better if Character A had been with Character C instead of Character B.

❌ There are a few things going on here. Number one, you're telling your mom you wanted the white headphones, not the ones she actually bought you. You're also disparaging the A/B pairing that the author chose to write about, and as we discussed, we can assume that the author wrote the pairing because they liked it. Even if it's not their favorite and/or they also write A/C, they made a choice for this story to be A/B, and the comments section of a fic is not the place to question choices the author made in their own work.

You should write a story where Character Z who is not even in this story does [thing that is vaguely referenced in the B plot].

❌ "You should get me a new phone, too."

I want a sequel. 😞

❌ "Thank you, next!"

You can reframe this kind of sentiment if you are careful about it, and it's not all you say.

I really loved this story. I would be so interested to see these ideas explored further if you ever decide to write more in this universe.

✔️ Not "gimme." Not "more." This is, "If you build it, I will come." It is a HUGE difference.

You already know how to do this. You know how to graciously accept a gift; just use that same etiquette, and boom! Now you know how to fearlessly write a comment to fic you read. You're doing amazing. Go forth and comment.

[littlemissmiller]

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑮𝒊𝒓𝒍 𝑵𝒆𝒙𝒕 𝑫𝒐𝒐𝒓

Pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

Summary: (au) (Joel is dad to a 9 year old Sarah) Joel has been your neighbor for some time and you and him have become friendly. In an attempt to spend more time to him (and a desire to show off your summer body) you throw a pool party…

Warning: 21+ (drinking), smut, fluff, friends to lovers, use of nicknames (babydoll, baby, darling), p in v, ass eating, cowgirl style, fingering, couch sex, porn with a plot

Work count: 4.1k

A/N: hi all! the official first day of summer is today and i got inspired by a pool party i went to with my mans so i just had to write this cute lil smutty, fluffy story. i have a billy request coming and hopefully i get ch 3 of Summer Highs out soon (i know i said it would be soon don’t trust me on a release date which is why i don’t do them) ok that’s it! much love and enjoy ❣︎

───────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────────

It’s always a hot summer in Texas. It would feel weird if it wasn’t, but this year it feels like the earth is a legit bun in the oven. The whole neighborhood is feeling the heat, so given you have a pool in your backyard, you invite people over for a summer kickoff. Of course it has nothing to do with the fact you are desperate to see Joel Miller in nothing but a pair of swim trunks. From just his work shirts alone, you could see how tight his shirt hugged his muscles. How toned his back was whenever he would sweat through it doing yard work. You would always wave over to him from across the street, occasionally bring him water or lemonade while he worked. And today, your excuse for seeing him was to invite him to your pool party. You catch him outside after work, in his garage tinkering around under his truck. You stroll across the street and walk in. You knock on the side of the garage walls and Joel slides out from under his Silverado.

“Well hey there!” He beams, striding towards you

“What’s up cowboy.”

“Not much, waiting for Sarah to come home from soccer camp.” He informs

“Oh keeping her busy.”

“Well between so and the library reading contest she’s more or less keeping herself busy. Determined to get those Astro tickets. I promised we would do a road trip and she reaches thirty books by the end of June and wins the two tickets. She’s already at twenty five. She has a whole strategy.”

“Wow. Good for her. Well I hope she’s not too busy this weekend…” you state

“Oh yeah why’s that” he smiles, leaning his arm against the garage and above your head. You feel totally lost here with him looking at you how he is. His big brown eyes, so curious and pleasant, simply wondering what you have to say. He raises his eyebrows in anticipation.

“Well I sent out an evite a little bit ago, but I wanted to come tell you in person that I’m having a pool party Saturday. I thought we could all beat the heat ya know.”

“Yeah we‘ll be free.” He steps back, taking a rag from his waist and wiping his hands. He heads toward his garage fridge and gets out two bottles of water, offering you one.

“Thanks. So you do have your own water.”

“Yeah I always keep that fridge full. Especially with Sarah and her friends I practically always got Gatorade.”

“So you just like my water better?”

Joel smiles at you, combing his hair with his fingers. You watch his muscles flex and wish that you can be wrapped in them. He starts to look through his tool box and nods.

“You could say that. So Saturday you said? What time?”

“It starts at 12, but you can stay for as long as you’d like.”

“I’ll talk to Sarah, but I have a feeling she'll say yes. She loves you, so any excuse to see you, she’ll take.”

“I’m sure.”

“We’ll see ya Saturday then.” He winks and disappears back under his truck

You waltz out of the garage and back to your house. You trot inside gleefully and close the door behind you. You could jump, squeal, practically combust. Not only did you just figure out Joel had his own drinks on deck whenever he works, but always accepts an offer from you no matter what. God he must like you. He must. You hope you're not thinking too much into it but, you couldn’t help but think when he said “She loves you, so any excuse to see you, she’ll take…” he really was talking about himself. You bite your lip and roll your eyes. You want him so badly. So bad you feel like you are going to explode. You lean your head back against the door and sigh.

Saturday comes around soon enough, and you spend the whole evening and next morning preparing for the day. You clean your house, chop lettuce, tomatoes and onions for burgers, cut up a watermelon and make a macaroni salad. Even though you hadn’t explicitly asked for his help, you had a feeling Joel would want to help grill and you’d gladly take it. You prepare a cooler with a few beers and some water and put it in your garage fridge. Next you set up the pool area. You lay the cushions on the pool chairs, unwind the umbrellas and set out a few pool noodles. Everything looks perfect and your first guests start arriving around 12:08. More and more people arrive and at around 1:30, you finally see Joel and Sarah pulling up. He walks in with his own cooler and a swim bag. He approaches you while Sarah runs off to the other neighborhood kids.

“Well hey cowboy! Glad you could make it.”

“Yeah sorry we are late. Work called last minute and I had to help them order some more flooring for our site.”

“No worries. But these people are getting hungry and maybe you could help grill. I hate to put you to work…”

“Ain’t no trouble darling.”

“Ok I’m going to change. The patties are already formed, just in the fridge.”

Joel follows you inside and heads into your kitchen, poking his head in the fridge. You walk upstairs to your bedroom and change into your swimsuit. You had gone out that week and picked out a new suit. It was white, a two piece, the edge frilled, and it shaped your figure so well. You spin around and admire how it sits on your ass. The back had a cheeky build, and totally gave the viewer an idea of how your cute little ass looks. Not to mention the way it rides up, exposing your cheeks slightly, it’s perfect and you can’t wait for Joel to see you in it. You put your jean shorts back on and find one of your white, open-knit, pool coverup and a red, and a worn USA baseball cap. You pull your ponytail through the loop of your hat and spin around one last time.

Rushing down the stairs, only to find Joel already outside starting the grill. You sigh in disappointment. You take a beer from your fridge and try to open in on your own. Then Joel walks back inside. Even though your back is turned to him, he can tell you are struggling.

“Need help?”

You jump and turn around, your tits bouncing slightly as you turn, which Joel notices. He also seems slightly speechless as you turn to face him. His sentence cut off, face frozen, as if you stole the words from his mouth.

“Uh yeah, thanks.” You hand him the bottle and he takes it, uncapping it like it’s nothing. He hands it back to you and you take a swig.

“Oh hey so because I was so outta sorts getting out the door, I totally forgot to get sunscreen. You got any, Sarah is itching to get in the pool.”

“Of course” you run back up to your bathroom, find a 50 SPF bottle and head back down stairs. Joel calls out to his daughter and she comes rushing inside. At the sight of your face she enthusiastically calls your name and rushes towards you. You hold her in your arms.

“Hey sunshine!”

“We brought brownies!” She proclaims

“Oh did your dad make them?”

“Mhmm. Well he helped, I really was the baker!” She insists

Joel lets out a playful chuckle and rolls his eyes in amusement.

“Yeah, especially with all those eggshells you had to fish out?”

“At least I know how to preheat the oven.” She claps back

Joel smirks and then looks at you. He has always appreciated how loving and kind you are to Sarah. He appreciates knowing that when she’s with you, she’s in more than good hands. And you adored her as well.

“Hey! let her get that sunscreen on ya.”

“I’m fine! I’ll stay in the shade!” Sarah protests but before she can scurry off you’re already squirting it into your hand, applying it to her shoulders.

“You know you don’t have to listen to him. I thought you’re supposed to be the fun one!” She whines, and you smear her face. She scrunches it up in displeasure.

“I am the fun one. This is called fun in the sun, sunshine.”

She groans and pulls her face away.

“You know I think I saw a bomb pop with your name on it out in the garage fridge, if you can still hang in there for one more second.” You promise. “Ok there. Top shelf in the garage. Bring a few for the other kids. Ok?”

“Yes!” She states firmly and rushes off into the garage

“She just loves to keep ya busy…”

“Tell me about it.” Joel rolls his eyes “you uh…you look nice…” he swallows nervously

“Thanks, it’s new. I got it for today actually.”

“Oh really. Trying to impress someone?” He asks

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You quip back, smirking “how’s those burgers coming along”

“Grills still heating up, this is really nice of ya to invite everyone. Sarah hasn’t really had much pool time with soccer.”

“Well you two are invited over anytime.”

“Appreciate the offer. What else do you need for these burgers?”

“Here” you state, turning to the fridge and opening it.

You grab the toppings, cheese, and condiments and follow him outside. As Joel grills, you make your way around, chatting with your fellow neighbors. Eventually you get in the pool with a playful “go on sugar, I’ll holler at ya when they are ready” from Joel. As you strip off your top and shorts, Joel checks you out from across the pool. He can’t help but let his eyes linger on the curves of your body, the way your bikini bottoms hug your ass, and how nice and perky your boobs sit on your chest.

You notice him checking you out, your own eyes hidden behind your sunglasses. You try not to look so much, but with his back to you, it’s easier to admire his broad shoulders. And you have to admit, Joel is absolutely radiating domesticity. You could easily get used to this sight. Sarah splashes around you, pretending to be a mermaid looking for pearls and you throw sinking rings for her to dive for. Joel catches you playing with Sarah, and smiles. The smell of hamburger meat fills the air and Joel calls to you. You throw some more rings in to keep Sarah occupied and head out of the pool.

“How are these, little lady?” Joel asks as you approach

“Fantastic! Let’s put cheese on half of them.”

“You got it!”

People start to gather for food and you help Sarah dry off and get her a plate.

“Cheese or no cheese baby?” Joel asks Sarah as she approaches the grill

“Cheeeese!” She smiles, showing off her big smile to her dad

“What about you doll?” He asks you

“Same as her.”

After you eat, you wait a while to get back in the pool. You lay out with a few of the girls from the neighborhood Wine Club. As you chat, Joel admires the way the sun glimmers off your body. With most of the food served, Joel joins his daughter in the pool. You watch as he takes off his shirt, gawking over his bare chest. His shoulders cut into his neck so sharp and clean and you can help but want to feel how strong he is. And You smirk to yourself, happy to finally see him exactly how you wanted to. And he looks damn good in his turquoise-green trunks.

“I’ll be right back…” you excuse yourself, striding over to Joel, swaying your hips

“Can I get you a drink? I’m getting another beer, and maybe one of those brownies I heard about.”

“Oh I want one!” Sarah exclaims

“If you get out you’re getting more sunscreen on ya babe..” Joel promises

“She can bring me one and I can eat in the pool!”

“No, no baby. C’mon.” He argues, lifting Sarah out of the pool and onto the pavement.

“Awww!” Sarah whines, swinging her arms and legs.

You hold her hand and take her to the food, you grab a towel, wrap her in it and get her a small plate. You place a brownie on it and hand it to her.

“Can I have two?” She bats her eyes

“Go ask your daddy…”

She waddles over to Joel, squatting down to ask him. He rolls his eyes and nods and she trots back to you.

“He said I can!”

As the afternoon turns into evening, more and more people head back to their homes and pretty soon the sun is setting. You start to clean up, picking up plates and empty bottles and taking them inside the house.

The last few neighbors pop in to thank you and say goodbye and behind them is Joel.

“Hey…need some help?” Joel asks you

“Oh you’ve done more than enough. Y’all headed out?”

“I uh...sent Sarah home with the Adler’s. They said they’d watch her for the evening until I got back.“

“Oh! Well I would have loved to say goodbye to her.” You frown

“I bet she would have too, but she passed out on my knee even with everyone running around. Danny wanted to get his Ma home anyways…” he explains

He walks up to the kitchen counter and places a few empty beer bottles down. You smile and thank him. He helps bring in a few more bottles and follows you around with a trash bag as you pick up plates and plastic silverware. After everything is cleaned up and the pool is closed up, you and Joel head inside.

“Well I don’t wanna keep you from Sarah much longer.”

“It’s ok, unless that’s your way of kindly kicking me out, then by all means I’ll head out.” He smirks

“No no, you can stay if you like…”

“You sure?”

You nod and he closes the sliding door leading out to the pool, locking it.

“I don’t have much beer left, but you seem like a whiskey guy to me.” You imply

“I sure do.”

You pour him a glass and he leans over your counter. He smiles and he holds the glass to his lips and sips.

“I really appreciate ya Joel.”

“It’s no trouble.”

There is a brief moment of silence as you take a sip of your whiskey and gaze into his big brown eyes. You can’t help but feel he’s looking at you in the same way. A wave of desire washes over you and just as you're about to speak, possibly trying to make a move, Joel strides over to you.

“Ya know if ya ever need my help, I’ll always be willing. Whatever you need…”

“You’re too sweet Joel, I feel like I need to make it up to you.”

“Maybe you can, baby…” the words slip from his lips and steal your breath away. You gasp and move in closer to him.

“I’m sorry, can I call you baby?”

You nod wordlessly.

“Yeah? Well then baby, kiss me…”

You lean up, cupping his face and pressing his lips against your own. He holds your face in return, rubbing his thumbs against your cheeks and moaning into your mouth. Your hands move to cup his neck as you move your face, deepening the kiss. Joel clutches your jaw, pulling you closer and raising you onto your tippy toes. You chuckle against him. This is finally happening. You’re finally kissing the man you’ve dreamed of. Ever since him and Sarah moved in, you have wanted him. It was no secret. Perhaps that’s why the Adler’s offered to watch Sarah. To give you this moment. And you’re ever so thankful.

Joel’s calloused palms move to your waist, slowly trailing down your body, feeling the sides of your bare skin. You hadn’t bothered putting your swim shirt back on after the pool and you were grateful. You welcome his fingers and let out a girlish giggle, his feather light touch overwhelming.

“How late do you wanna stay?”

Joel checks his watch. It’s 8:10.

“I told the Adlers I would be back by 9 so I mean…is that enough time for you…”

“I’ll take whatever you give me.” You smile against his face, kissing his cheek.

With that he returns his mouth to your own and he moves to cup under your shorts. He squeezes your ass and moves his hands under your thighs. In one swift motion he picks you up and is moving you both to your couch. You and him stumble into it and he sits down with you on his lap. You gasp and pull back.

“Ok that was fucking hot Miller, my god could you get any sexier.”

“You know what’s sexy…” he implies, pulling on the front of your bikini top, snapping the strap

“You like it?”

“You look like an absolute snack in this thing darling. And your ass, fuck I couldn’t stop looking at it by the pool.” he pants

“Glad you noticed. I was trying to impress you if you didn’t pick up on that when I told you.”

“Oh I did, and it worked. It definitely worked.” He sighs, sealing his words with another searing kiss.

You rock against him as his mouth moves with yours. You simply can’t get enough of him like this and he desperately wants to devour you. His hands wrap around your back, pulling you flush against his chest. He moves to squeeze your ass again, fingers dancing underneath your jeans. He grabs and gropes you, causing you to whine and whimper into his mouth.

“I love those pretty little noises you make, baby. I can’t wait to hear what other noises you make for me.” He whispers

He pulls at the hem of your jeans, tugging on them until they slide down your ass. You stand up, pulling them down your smooth legs. He starts rubbing the back of your thighs, moving his hands up and down and settling them underneath the cheek of your ass. He pulls your waist close to his face, your pelvis practically grinding up against his nose and lips. You delicately place your hands on his shoulders as he admires you.

“Let me see that cute little ass of yours again, babydoll”

Then suddenly you are spun around and he grips the strings of your bikini bottoms slowly pulling them down. As he does, he kisses the bear skin that’s being revealed to him until his lips are consuming your ass. You let out a sigh, arching your back slightly as his mouth finds your core. He dives in, placing his hands on the meat of your ass and nuzzling into your cheeks. His soft lips began to kiss your folds, and you buck up against his face. He growls against you, groping your cheeks and diving in to taste you. His mouth and tongue finds your clit and he begins to lap at it. He’s so hungry for you. So desperate to drink up your juices like a sweet nectar. Your legs quiver slightly and Joel notices. He wraps his hands around the front of your thighs, steadying you , while simultaneously pulling you closer to his mouth. He pulls back quickly, replacing his mouth with his fingers. He rubs the sensitive bundle of nerves feverishly, cooing as you moan and whine.

“Tastes so good. So fucking good baby.” He whispers.

He mouths at your pussy, his saliva mixing with your juices, making you so wet. You’re throbbing into his mouth and he places a few chase kisses to your cunt, before pulling away. He takes his shirt off and tosses it aside. He gives your core a few more open mouth kisses then spins you around once more, and you take off your top. You slowly pull the dainty string, letting your bikini top fall off you and onto his lap. He moans, clutching the top in his hand. You move to straddle him and he tosses the top on the ground.

Before you can put your weight on him, he bucks his hips, taking his trunks off. His cock springs forward and he takes his incredible length in his hand. He slowly pumps himself and you lower your ass onto his thighs. You don’t quite sink into him yet, wanting to appreciate this moment with him. He cups your ass and you clasp the back of his neck. He leans forward to press feather light kisses along your jaw and neck. Then his actions get more aggressive as he starts to manipulate your breasts. You mewl and arch into him. Your entire body starts to slowly rock against his, teasing him with your wet core on his cock.

“Fuck I want you. I can feel ya. So wet.”

You nod, biting your lip and Joel loves his hand down in between your legs again. He plays with your clit for a moment, before sinking a finger in you. You buck up on him, and steady yourself on his shoulders. He pumps his finger into you, loving the way your heat and juices consume his digit. He adds another one, and you feel so incredibly full.

“You ready for me?” Joel murmurs against your neck.

“Mhmm, please Joel. I’ve wanted this for so long!” You gasp as he removes his fingers. He wraps his hand around his cock, guiding it to your entrance. The tip pokes in, then you engulf the rest, taking his full length in you. He lets out a staggering moan as he works his lips down to your collarbone and valley of your breasts. You move your hips, slowly grinding on his cock and your tits bounce in his face. He chuckles and looks up at you. He sits back, holding your hips as you ride him.

“Fucking look at you girl. So gorgeous my god.”

You giggle in return, feeling up your body and playing with your boobs.

“That’s it, put on a little show for me.”

You bounce on him, continuing to feel your body and then you touch your clit, swirling it around in between your fingers. You let out a long, breathy moan, tilting your head back.

“Mmm Joel, Joel Joel Joel….” You hang his name as he squeezes your ass harshly. He helps you move, shoving your body onto his cock and moving his hands to hold your hips.

“That’s it. Oh my god you’re perfect…”

You learn back slightly, rolling your hips and tummy. He splays his hands over your waist, his breath hitching. He loves watching you move. He loves how you feel and needs more. Joel moves expertly to stand up, keeping himself buried inside you and, placing you on your back, you yelp as he lays you on the couch. He dives in for your lips again. He crawls on top of you, wasting no time shoving his length into you. Cupping your face. He rocks his hips, his cock filling you up once again. He speeds up, drilling into you. Your legs fold up to your chest, giving him better access to your pussy. As he thrusts into you, his beautiful eyes meet your own, his gaze thirsty for more. He rests his forehead against you and pants.

“You close?”

“If you touch me again. Play with me a little then I’ll come… please Joel…”

“Yeah? Like this baby?”

He aggressively rubs your core, his hand in sync with his hips. You nod and let out a series of incoherent babbles. You move against his hand and cock, a pool of ecstasy filling your stomach and drowning your senses. Your heat builds and builds until you break. You clench down around him, your breath leaving you as Joel’s mouth falls onto your own. With a few more of his own pumps, his seed is spilling inside you.

“Oh shit” he curses “fuck baby it’s just you felt so good shit I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine I’m on the pill.”

“You sure it’s ok?

You nod and he kisses you deeply, lips pressing firmly on your own. You moan, holding his face.

“You just might be the most perfect thing on the planet, ya know that?”

“Whatever you say.” you chuckle

“I know this may come off as formal given what we just did, but I really wanna take you out for a drink sometime. Like an actual date. If you want?”

“Yes Joel, I’d like that very much.”

꧁•☀︎•꧂

[ellieslittlewh0re]

I have read your story groupie love and omg did I love it, but i kept thinking about having sex with angry drunk Ellie, and I think you would be amazing at writing this.

Also read some of your other story’s i love them so much your amazing at writing.

I’m so sorry for the delay but yes!! I love this 😩💕

"𝑩𝑰𝑻𝑻𝑬𝑹"

₊˚ପ⊹. 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 - 𝖾. 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗂𝖺𝗆𝗌 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

₊˚ପ⊹. 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗌 - 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇 𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗂𝖾 (𝖽𝗎𝗁), 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖻𝖻𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀

*𝖺/𝗇 - 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖺 𝖻𝖺𝖽 𝗂𝗆 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒 :(

God, the way I can picture this so vividly- her face reading stone cold, and practically had the words "pissed off" written across her forehead, silently sitting beside you in the back of the Uber as you two made your way back to your shared apartment. Her knuckles whitened in a fist that rested on her thigh, and even though she was looking away from you, you could see the prominent, sharp angle of her jaw clenching.

She was drunk- well, the both of you were, but her even more so, but the tension between you two sobered you right up. She however, was still fully ignited, the alcohol proving to feed her anger further as you two made it up to your apartment.

She pushed you inside, and slammed the door behind her, giving you two the privacy she wanted to unleash whatever it is she wanted on you.

Before you could even settle in, take your shoes off, put down your purse, etc... she pushed you against the wall, and placed her hands on either side of your head, caging your body in with hers.

You say her name softly and with such submission, looking for her eyes that were hanging lowly at your chest which started to rise and fall more quickly.

"Ellie-" you said again, this time more serious as fear started to take over.

Ellie's eyes slowly came up, trailing your bare décolletage, and how your collar bones pressed against the thin layer of skin with each deep exhale of your lungs. The usually bight, and lush color of her eyes were much darker, glimmering a speck of something that bordered on sinister.

She chuckled, the whiskey on her breath fanning your lips, and you feel her hand on your side, slowly dragging her fingers up, and over your tit until it was on your jaw. Her thumb and fingers indented the skin of your cheeks as she maneuvered your face side to side like she was examining your expressions more carefully.

"Did you want her to fuck you, huh? Is that it?" She gritted, but at the same time breathed heavily with hostility and desire, hearing her own voice like this turning her on that much more-

"N-no, no, Ellie-" Your denial is cut off with a yelp as her fingers continued to dig into the sides of your face, and your lips forcing a pucker.

"I know you're not fucking stupid. She was all over you, and you-" she scoffed, dropping her hand, "- you let it happen." Her words were slurred, and she almost sounded deranged like the mere topic had refreshened the memory.

You started to defend yourself, spewing your innocence to Ellie about how you were just being friendly, and you had no other intentions besides the fact that you simply enjoyed the conversation, but it fell on deaf ears.

Ellie's lips were on yours. The front of her body flush with your chest, and her hands grabbing you all over. She deepened the kiss, slipping her tongue inside as you parted your lips to let out a small gasp.

She broke away, her eyes glazed with drunken lust, focusing more heavily on your swollen, spit coated lips before quickly closing the space once more.

"Bed." She mumbled against your mouth, pulling you away from the plaster by your waist, and sloppily directing the two of you down the hall to your shared bedroom.

Finally, she had you, behind closed doors, and at her mercy. Any other time, she would've taken her time teasing you, edging you, but she was drunk, mad, and so fucking eager to take care of the mess inside her boxers.

She forcibly kissed you, backing you up into the room until the back of your knees buckle against the bed, causing you to fall back onto it.

She crawled on top, holding your hand down by your wrist, and her lips stinging into the flesh of your neck.

Ellie pulled away breathless, and quickly took notice how your hips were squirming against her calculatedly placed knee between your thighs.

She scoffs a chuckled, "oh yeah?", and skimmed the palm of her hand up your thigh, pushing the hem of your dress up until the pink lace of your panties were exposed.

A small wet patch over your center welcomed her feeding eyes.

Ellie practically drooled at the sight, damn near choking on her own spit that overflowed inside her mouth from the mere thought of your taste on her tongue- the flimsy, see through fabric clinging to your puffy lips definitely not helping her desperation.

Ellie sucked the air through her teeth, placing her fingers on the plush of your lower stomach, and moved her thumb down your folds, exhaling an erotic breath as she did so.

Her brows knitted together, almost as if she was physically in pain because holy fuck-

She curled her fingers under the delicately sewn hem, pulling your panties down your legs and tossing it to the side. She mumbled a guttural "fuck" under her breath, spreading your knees apart with haste and a certain impatience that left a lingering sting.

Her lips and chin slowly disappear as she lowered herself down, and made her presence known by fanning warm breaths against your cunt before tempting a taste, but she was tempting herself just as much as she was tempting you. One lick wasn't enough. Hell, it would never be enough unless Ellie was smothered in your slick, dripping down her neck, and struggling to breathe with her nose buried inside you.

She needed more.

"Sit on my face." She more so demanded, positioning herself on the bed, and her hands already on your waist, pulling you on top of her. 

"But Ellieuhh~" You wined against her lips until it turned into soft moans inside her mouth, her tongue twirling against your spongy muscle.

You straddled her waist and let her deepen the kiss however she wanted. Her hands began trailing under your dress, over your sides, and tits- palming and kneading the fat between her slender fingers.

Your clit thumped against her crotch- so hard to the point you were embarrassed she would feel it, but if only you knew how badly she ached for the same reason.

Your dress is peeled off your back and over your head- again being tossed somewhere without much thought from Ellie. And your hands were eager to do the same, both of you putting in the effort to take off Ellie's flannel, and Ellie taking it upon herself to discard her t-shirt underneath.

Your lips clash for another round, Ellie's arms cradling in the small of your back to hold your front closer to hers-

She broke away- lips glistening in a mixture of spit, casting a rose hue, and her irises blown wide-

"Fucking sit-" She gritted, her fingers tightening into the mounds of your ass before lightening her grip, "please." Her eyes softened- this time, begging.

What kind of girlfriend would you be to deny such a pretty little thing like herself of such needs? Especially when she asks so nicely.

You nodded shyly, and her arms wrapped around the underside of your thighs as you positioned yourself over her freckled face, your cheeks burning hotter by the second from the vulnerable position.

"What if I'm too heavy- ah-!" You yelped, the force of her hands pulling you down to her mouth catching you off guard, and definitely underprepared.

Your concerns seemed insufficient, and distant- her skilled tongue between your folds- lapping, and suctioning until her cheeks hallowed-

You melted against her tongue, slowly circling your hips and her fingers spreading the skin of your inner thighs so that she could wedge herself deeper into you.

Your hand breaks away from the headboard, coming down to intertwine your fingers in Ellie's hairline, squeezing her auburn locks close to the scalp, and held her in place as you dragged your cunt against her open mouth, using her like a toy.

Not like she was complaining.

"E-el... m'gonna cum-" You babbled, taking your bottom lip between your teeth, and rolling your head back, completely captivated in the pleasure that you didn't even notice how one of Ellie's hands was absent from your thigh, and had sunk below her waistband.

Ellie's moans became louder, muffled, but still audibly louder, sending a deep rattle into your core as her hips rolled up into her fingers, fucking herself, but with much more restraint than you'd expect from a drunk person. But the truth is, she didn't want to cum like this.

You release her hair, needing the extra hand to steady yourself.

Your voice pitched as you dragged your hips for the final time across her face, strings of slick still connecting the both of you as you lifted your hips away.

With wobbly legs, you start to carefully lift yourself, but you weren't moving fast enough for her.

Your body bounces against the springs of the mattress from the sheer speed of her attack, pushing you down with her on top of you.

You feel her hand wrapped around your airway, squeezing the sides enough to feel a certain dizziness that had you melting.

She kissed you, immediately giving you a taste of yourself on her tongue.

"Did you think we were done?" Her breath fanned over your ear, intoxicating you all over again, which gave Ellie just the right amount of time to distract you, shoving her pants and boxers down her legs before you could comprehend what was happening.

Ellie lifted herself, her abs flexing with each heave of her lungs, moving one of your legs the outside of hers by your ankle.

The smallest whine leaves your lips once you see her... like really see her, dancing your gaze from her face and down to the prominent 'v' shape of her hips, calculating her every move.

Ellie was eager. And she had absolutely no issue handling you more roughly to suit her needs, whether it be supporting her weight on the back of your thigh, pressing your knee into your chest, or stretching you to new lengths that burned your muscles.

And that's exactly what she did.

She wedged herself between your legs, all of her weight on you as she lowered herself, letting out a relieved sigh and tossing her head back as her cunt made contact with yours.

Her hipbones protruded with each rhythmic motion of her hips, starting slowly at first but quickly getting faster to match her desperation. As sensitive as you were, you wouldn't dare push her away, not when she was this close, and definitely not when she's mad, knowing she could make this so much worse for you.

Her green eyes disappeared behind her paper thin lids, and her head goes back, "You have no idea how- mmhm... how badly I've wanted to do this all night." Her voice was shaky, airy, but still maintained a bitter undertone that reminded you how you got here in the first place.

Ellie's patience was thinning, and the restraint she maintained up until this point had gone out the window.

Your eyes glazed over, watching her with a dumb, fucked out expression, and your jaw loosely hung to let out small, pathetic whines.

Ellie, however, was pussy drunk. There was no other way to explain it. Her brows cinched together at the middle and pushed on your leg, spreading you further apart to ensure full contact before collapsing on top of you, breathing into her neck, "pussy s'good- fuck... you make me feel so good..." Her fingers wrapped around your neck, her lips lazily dragging over your jaw and cheek to plant delicate kisses, which completely contradicted what she was doing below.

Her head drops, and you feel her grip close in around your airway, rutting her hips at a much shorter and jagged pace than before.

You whined her name and sunk your nails into her forearm, your head fuzzy and bordering on unconsciousness.

"Shit...fuck-" She lifted her head from your chest and met your eyes, "-I know, baby. I know." Her voice was soothing, filled with so much sympathy, but it didn't make her any less relentless.

She shushes you with her lips on yours, adding her own moans to the mixture as tears stain your cheeks and seep between the kiss, leaving a salty/sweet tinge on your tongue.

Her hips started to falter before continuing, dragging out a few more long and weary thrusts, her moans ricocheting into the back of your throat until her hips finally stilled.

She softens the kiss, pecking the corner of your mouth before pulling away, and lifts a hand to run the back of her knuckles over your cheek- so sweet and so comforting with the alcohol weakening in her bloodstream, making her realize the anger she felt before was misplaced.

Sweat gleamed across the highs of her cheeks and across her nose, the vibrant hue of her eyes returning and practically begging to be forgiven.

"I love you." She whispers, her voice slightly horse and dry, flickering her eyes to various points of your face.

No, it wasn't the traditional "I'm sorry", but you knew what she meant.

Your hands come up, cupping the sides of her face, and pull her down to your lips.

"Apology accepted."

[morgana-ren]

I DONT KNOW IF YOU WRITE FULL FICS BUT IF YOU DO PLEASE WIRTE ONE ABOUT TGAT LAST ASK.

Just about Astarion sitting in his throne of sorts, in the palace, with tav sitting in his lap. He’s bored, tav sits there- dissociating and wishing they were anywhere else. He asks them if they’d like to do something fun and they say something like “Only if you do my lord” and he saddens some, expecting them to come up with something fun like they used to but they can’t think of anything that he would approve of them doing after so many years of breaking them down and he realizes it’s gotten so dull because tav was the person that brightened his life

"Awfully dull today, hmm? How would you like to do something fun, my love?"

It's an oh-so rare quiet day in the Crimson Palace, and his favorite source of amusement sits placidly on his lap, silent as the grave and still atop him. Content as he is in the peaceful quiet with solely her company, he'd spend the day with her doing– well, something, surely. It’s been a while since they’ve had any time to themselves to truly enjoy each other’s company alone. In fact, he cannot recall the last time with any distinct accuracy.

It seems so terribly long since they've had any time to themselves. Being a Lord keeps you awfully busy.

In a tender moment, he reaches forward to brush a stray strand of hair out of her face and behind her ear with a long, pale finger. She doesn’t react save a slight instinctual flicker of her lashes. Not a hint of expression on her face. He expects her to lean into his touch as she used to and is almost shocked when she does not.

Odd, he thinks. She hardly even seems to notice anything at all.

It’s almost like she isn’t entirely present.

Still, before he can chastise her, she responds to his bid for her attention.

"If that is your wish, my lord,” She responds to his question, lifeless and monotone. Perfectly obedient, just as befits her, and yet—

He frowns, just a little. It irks him, but now that he thinks about it, he cannot recall the last time he saw enthusiasm on her face– or much of anything at all aside from the blank, hollow mask she has now. Completely impassive and unresponsive in a cruel sort of practiced indifference. 

He studies her for a moment and comes to the conclusion that it reminds him of the robots they found in that strange tower in the Underdark so long ago. Programmed to respond to the right things and make the right moves, but utterly incapable of acting on her own whims. Eternally awaiting instruction. 

Empty. Robotic. Precise and yet disingenuous somehow. Eerily so.

Has she been like this before? Has he simply not noticed?

Perhaps she just needs to awaken a little more. It was such a long night, and he had kept her remarkably busy. She must be exhausted, but surely, she will perk up. She always does. 

Doesn’t she?

“Come, darling. What would you like to do?” He jostles his knees, dandling her on his legs like one might a small, particularly grumpy child. She bumps up and down, only reaching to steady herself on the sides of his throne. 

“Whatever would please you would please me, my lord.”

He groans, rolling his red eyes, a very sudden burst of irritation bubbling in his gut. Always with the My lord, My lord, scraping and bowing like some sort of indentured serf. Proper respect is important, of course, but for the first time in a while— longer than he can honestly think back on, to be honest— they are entirely alone. He is her Lord, yes, but she knew him by another name once– did know him by another name. She knows better than to tease him in front of his vassals but surely—

He can’t remember the last time she said his name. 

His real name. 

How long since he has truly sat by her side and talked with her? Spent time with her? He's been so busy, laying plans and waste, conquering and shedding blood of those who oppose him. The Lord Tyrant, come to rule over his dominion of Eternal Night. She is always by his side, never straying and yet— 

(“I love you, Little Star,” She’d laugh, planting a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose, which would promptly crinkle in annoyance. 

“I’m not ‘Little Star,’ and I’ll never understand why you insist on calling me that.” 

“That’s what your name means, doesn’t it? Little Star? Or perhaps Little Starlight– I don’t really remember.”

“Then why make that my pet name?" He rolls his eyes, annoyed at the use of his own childish moniker that follows him like a shadow to anyone who speaks even a lick of his native language. "Of all the things your brilliant little mind can concoct, you give me a child’s handle? I’m strong, dashing, capable, handsome, fearsome– but instead you choose that absurdity” 

“Because you’re my little star!” And she would smile so brightly that it seemed impossible in the darkness, and he could not help but smile himself. “My light in the darkness. My Astarion, for as long as you want to be. And I love you.” 

His expression would soften once again and he would simply sigh, pulling her close to kiss her temple. The night was cold, but she was so impossibly warm against him, somehow fitting perfectly in his lap and into his heart, where she’d wormed her way in against his own will. The dim firelight reflects in her eyes as she tells him again that she loves him forever if he’ll have her, and he can think of nothing he’d desire more than to ride out the endless night of eternity with her here on his lap, cradled close.)

Something gnaws at him. Something raw and edged with a vicious sort of misery he’d done so well to avoid in ages. He cannot place it but as he looks at her, his stomach is as a dark, abyssal pit, circling and swelling like a maelstrom. 

Something is wrong.

He cannot place the negative emotion, and so he does as he always does now, making the strange yearning her responsibility to soothe. 

He lashes out at her. 

“I’m growing bored,” He says with a cold, cruel edge to his voice. “You know how much I dislike boredom, don't you, darling?"

What he seeks is a reaction. A sudden spark of life from within her. For her to grab his hand and take him to do— to do something. Surely—

And yet, with a motion so fluid that it implies an aged and practiced skill, she slides from his lap down to her knees before him, reaching towards the laces of his breeches. There is nothing behind her eyes as she extends her hand forward to unlace him, hardly even seeing him. Nothing at all. 

“What are you doing?” He slaps her hands away, scowling down at her, taken back by her brashness. 

“You said you were bored, my Lord.”

“And why would you think–” 

Because that is what he’d taught her. 

That her body was built for his amusement; his temple to defile at will. Because of the cold nights in the castle after so many years where he would reach for her, and she would quiver and shake her head with eyes rimmed red and puffy and beg to be left untouched and yet he would speak the words without thinking and she would bend for him any way he wished. 

Because even as she would obey, she would cry and turn away, and he would give it little thought until one night the crying and protesting simply stopped. He thought she had learned. Made peace with her duties and loyalty to him and what it entailed. Mayhaps she had come to realize that her theatrics had little impact on him and surely, he wasn’t so wretched to her now that these waterworks were necessary. His touch could not repulse her so that her weeping was remotely acceptable. She loves him, surely she—

Because he would command her until she would kneel, and so now, she kneels without command.

He sighs, breathing the fire from his lungs, reaching down to pull her back up into his lap. She does not respond, only obeys in kind to his guiding instruction as he settles her back down on his legs. He finds a semblance of patience from within himself which is a strange and unusual feeling, mustering it up to once again ask:

“My dear, what is it that you would like to do?” 

Her head cocks. She does not understand. 

"What would you enjoy? If you had the freedom to do anything, what might it be?"

It takes a moment, but for the first time, a reaction: Confusion. It is slow to take hold but becomes blaringly apparent as it does. It is not as if she doesn’t know the answer, but almost as if she doesn’t understand the question. 

“Whatever you would like to do, my Lo–”

“No, no, darling. What is it you would like to do?” He impresses, harsher this time, and she flinches, recoiling from… something. 

From him.  

If her heart was still capable of beating, he'd be able to hear the way it pumps into overdrive. As it stands, he cannot, but he is aware no less. Her scent changes entirely around him to something that has his brows furrowing. Shortness of breath, dilating pupils, hands beginning to quake— Adrenaline. Steel-edged anxiety. As if this is not a question at all, but rather a test and she does not know the answer, and failure means his displeasure and his displeasure means–

"I— What would you—" She hard-swallows, harrowed by the open-endedness of the question. "—I want what—"

("Come to the meadow with me, Asto," She would grab his hand with a mischievous smile when their compatriots were fast asleep, tugging him up from the comfort of his bedroll. "I want you to come with me."

"It's late, darling. Wouldn't you rather come here and lie with me?" He would try to tug her back down playfully, but would fall against her aggressive temerity, being pulled to his feet through her sheer will. She would stifle her giggling with a hand as she guided him past their slumbering companions, through the tree line and deep into the forest. 

"Come on, lazy boy, come! Come with me!"

"Well, I'm trying to—"

She would hush him and yank him by the wrist, out into the field where he'd first had her, down once more into a bed of wildflowers and long grass. Her melodic laugh like a strange song as she yanks him to the ground despite his weak protests until she would lie her head on his chest and trace gentle patterns on his white shirt against his flexed chest. 

"We don't have to come all the way out here to make love, darling—" He would move to try to kiss her, but she would adamantly press her head against his torso, insisting he stay down in the dirt with her. 

"I'm not trying to seduce you," She would giggle, pointing at the star-spangled sky. "I want to lie under the stars with you." 

"But… why?"

"Because I know we'll have eternity to do it, but it's my favorite moon tonight and it reminded me of you."

He squints, struggling to find anything different about it at all. "I don't notice anything, darling. It looks very much like the moon we see every night." 

"It's so full and bright! Look at the rays!" She holds her hand out as if to cradle a silvery moonbeam in her palm. "It reminds me of the color of your hair." 

She reaches over him to delicately pluck something from the grass, tucking it gingerly behind his ear after she does so. "These poppies are the same beautiful deep red of your eyes in the moonlight. I feel safe here; home, with you. I just wanted to enjoy it for a moment. Just the two of us."

He would wrap his arms around her waist, squeezing so tightly that she would gasp and worm about, trying to return the favor, and yet he would not relent. 

"I want you to feel safe with me," he would whisper into her hair, desperately trying to memorize the scent of it, as if expecting Bhaal himself to come and steal her from his frantic embrace. "Now and forever, I want to feel home in your arms, with you.")

He thinks, for a moment, to return to that meadow, and that perhaps his love— the one he remembers— will return to him. As if her ghost still lingers there, trapped and waiting to be rescued. 

He can’t. 

It is not a meadow any longer, but a battlefield, not unlike the vile destruction left in Ketheric's wake at Raithewait; another one in a million places sacrificed in his conquest for glory, littered with bodies and bones. A graveyard tribute to his power, scorched soil and dead grass. No flowers bloom there anymore— there is nowhere for them to bloom between the suffocating aura of death. 

All that is left is a beautiful memory buried beneath a river of dried blood, and you cannot water flowers with dried blood or wean them on bone dust. That meadow is one moment suspended in time as trapped in amber, impossible to claw free from its temporal prison. He cannot remember the last time he saw that jovial smile she had saved just for him in that damned meadow. 

He cannot recall the last time she said the words "I love you" and cried his name as a preternaturally beautiful siren song without being commanded. 

He frowns, feeling something strange and haunting in his chest. Something viciously clawing up his throat as he looks at her: at her empty red eyes that were once the most beautiful color, full of love and life when she looked upon him; at her contorted expression that used to be as radiant as the sun and he could have sworn that her light could have sustained him through the dark, miserable nights of his eternal curse if only she was by his side; at the frailty of her body that almost seems to creak and break beneath his weight. 

"My love, look at me."

And she does, if not by command, then by instinct. 

"Smile for me, will you? Can you do that for me?" 

And she does, her lips turning upward and raising to reveal two sharp teeth— and nothing more. It's uncanny and revolting and wrong. There is nothing behind her eyes, nothing at all. No light, no life, and certainly no love. 

He used to be able to see himself in her eyes. How her heart sang for him, cheeks blossoming with blood at the sight of him. He could hear her heart rabbit behind her ribs, her hands quaking with excitement to touch him even in the most innocent of ways. Through her eyes, he found his own value— his own worth— and finally began to understand that he deserved love; he deserved happiness. She had healed him, giving almost all of herself to do it, selflessly and without asking for anything in return even as he despised himself and refused his own agency—

And she stares at him now with soulless eyes, he is left to wonder if he has taken too much from her in his quest to take everything. Wonders if she will ever be that lovestruck, moon-eyed girl again, wanting nothing more than to lie under the moonlit meadow with him. If she will ever kiss his eyelids as a delicate butterfly and whisper eternity in his ear. If she will ever feel safe and home and loved around him again in his embrace–

Save she is no longer quaking with anticipation at his touch, but trembling from fear, lost and terrified at the posing of a simple question. Her scent is foreign even as it is familiar and he cannot recall when it began to change. There is something in her eyes that haunts him, and though he can see himself within him, what stares back is not him. A terrible realization rakes knives down his soul, a gaping maw threatening to swallow him whole. A tightening in his lungs, and even as he does not breathe, he does not believe he could even if he tried. 

“Darling?” 

“Yes, my Lord?” 

Her face is impassive once more. Perfect porcelain expression. Not a crack in the mask. Not a wrinkle in the facade. Practiced day in and day out until it becomes real. He remembers it well.

How long has it been? How long since he has looked at her? Truly looked at her? Spoken to her? Told her he loved her? 

Showed her he loves her?

When was the last day he did not command from her that which she begged not to willingly give?

He cannot remember. He cannot recall. 

He demanded and she had no choice but to give. More and more and more. He drained her dry and now where was once his sacred oasis, there is nothing at all. No matter how long he looks, there is never a flicker of anything in her glassy eyes. 

He wonders if even as he has gotten everything he has ever wanted, he lost the one thing he needed. 

It paralyzes him. For the first time in an ageless eternity, he feels something: Panic. 

Even his endless power cannot bring her back. His beloved is dead, and he has killed her. Upon him sits a pretty corpse, empty and devoid of all that made her her. A doll with her face. A doll with barely even that. 

Her laugh, her smile. Her passion and desire and love. The tenderness inside of her and the warmth she once held. Everything that pulled him from his shell and showed him how to love once more. He bloomed in her light– and then snuffed it out entirely. 

How long has it been? How long has she been gone?

Though she may be undying, he realizes with horror akin to a dawning sun that she is gone– and has been for some time. 

“You seem stressed, my Lord? How can I make you happy again?”

Second part of the story HERE

[gremlingottoosilly]

Hello gremlin!

I’ve read most of your monster!141 and I absolutely love how you write these stories!

I was wondering if you could do something with a barn owl reader! Barn owl are my favorite animal in general and i would love to see how the monster!141 boys will react to such a cute but deadly hybrid.

I think it will be hilarious how easily you can sneak up on them! After all silence and stealth is a common trait amongst owls. Also it’s not like your a tiny hybrid either you are pretty big and strong but not taller of stronger than the boys

-again i love your work, it’s simply amazing ( i also hope this ask isn’t too weird) 🦉🦉

You weren't even a pet at first. One of the scouts, the flying patrol for the base - the deadly one, really, although the fact that you're only active at night makes you a bit less of an effective soldier than you should be initially. It's fine, you thought, it should be fine - you're flying under the radar, you don't catch attention, you do your job. Then you are accidentally caught in a full moon with Soap and Ghosts. You learned the secret of the most mysterious operator on the base - and you wish you didn't. Stuck on a night patrol with two horny dog and dog-ghost hybrid was...something. Something that got you squished between two of your superiors, your wings petted and stimulated relentlessly and your pussy and ass squeezing their knots. The two of them truly are just dogs at heart - refusing to separate from each other and from you, you could only hoot in pleasure as they were using your body like you were one of pets and not a fellow soldier. You knew what that would mean, obviously - you're strong, yes, but not to the point of their strength. You're not breedable or soft or small, but they are still stronger and you're still cumming around them like a lowly creature you are. Soap marks you with his bites and Ghost pushes his hands around your waist, squeezing you into the shape of a mate. You know your service as a soldier is over. It's not that bad with others - Gaz still respects another flying hybrid in the team, going on patrols whenever you are not being bred, and enjoying flying with you. Even if that means he is only doing this so he could fuck you up on some high mountain or the watching tower, so be it. You want freedom, you crave it, and if spreading your wings also means spreading your legs a bit later than fuck it - Kyle is making you cum, after all. Almost treating you like an equal, this is refreshing after the treatment you're getting from his fellow teammates. He loves to kiss you, to cover you in soft smooches and little pecks, and you never felt so utterly loved. Price is...a bit conflicted. He still treats you as a soldier sometimes. sending you on patrols and when you're all too eager, he is reminded that you're their pet - even though you look and act like a proper recruit. He knows how predator hybrids are, how you need work to do because just laying with your legs spread in your nest won't cut it for someone like you - so he sighs and gives you paperwork, at least, it's something to do whenever you're not filled with their pups. Price is softer with you, he is forcing himself to be. Being strict and acting like your captain is a second nature to him, but you're changing your circumstances really quickly and he just wants you to be good. Just wants you to feel alright even though he understands that the transition was harsh.

[m1d-45]

just a small idea since you said you had a lil writers block: since wushi (lion dance) is used for important events/occasions and to honor special guests, maybe you could write about how ga-ming does a lil performance for creator?

- curse anon

vanguard’s fortune

note: this is not what you asked ! i thank you so much though

word count: 1k

-> warnings : written prior to 4.4, lots of “if you know you know” spoilers for liyue archon, story, and hangout quests, but nothin big

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept

< masterlist >

despite everything, ga ming knew he was lucky.

he certainly didn’t feel like he was. aside from his continued streak of bad luck at his performances, you never attended any of his shows and your vessels never gave him so much as a second glance. you’ve walked right by him on the street before—and yes, he knows you don’t ‘see’ most of liyue, but he was in the middle of a dance. he’s certain that word must have spread at least somewhat, but even when he put on a show during the last lantern rite, you didn’t attend. it was as if you didn’t even know he was there, skipping his meager stage to meet up with yun jin.

part of him wondered if you simply disliked liyue, but that was easily proven false. you took the time to accompany chongyun on his patrols, xiangling was more than happy to talk about when you’d helped her in a competition in mondstat, and you’d even fetched ingredients for the wangsheng consultant last year. it was the simple fact that you had nothing against liyue, and he was an outlier.

and yet, he was blessed. vision wielders were rare on their own, and only a thin sliver of them had constellations. he was incredibly lucky to be one of the few within your spotlight of attention, but he never felt the love that was supposed to come with it. yes, he had a vision, the lion carved on the back a figure he’s long memorized, but even the latest of liyuen rotations had a chance to exist by your side. though the others always tried to reassure him, their words fell flat. xingqiu had recieved his vision long before he became a vessel, but he had several turns in the sky to try. chongyun was largely ignored and ningguang was rarely missing from the jade palace, but that information didn’t help as much as they thought it did.

he didn’t care that he wasn’t a vessel (as much as one couldn’t care about such a thing) so much as he was ignored. you fought by ningguang’s side and helped yanfei out of the chasm, but he’d never even heard his name thrown your direction. it could be argued that he was being selfish or even egotistical, but he didn’t think so. sword and strongbox secure transport agency was a well-known name throughout liyue, and yet you’d never so much as heard a rumor. it didn’t affect his business—nor did he want your attention for business purposes—but with you helping a film show (at least now he knew you enjoyed theater) in fontaine, he may or may not have been hoping that yilong wharf’s name might have been passed your way.

it hadn’t been, though. his days went on and he continued his rounds as usual, doing his best to promote his dance and maybe getting a few mora thrown his way in return if he was lucky.

but that was fine. irritating, sure, but fine. liyue was in the tail end of preparations for this year’s lantern rite, and he was set on attending. as soon as the ministry of civil affairs opened applications for performers, he’d done his best to secure himself a stage. nobody had given him a secure word, though, saying that it was “up to divine guidance” as if your traveler hadn’t taken the transport up to the jade chamber last week. yes, you often found other things to do during lantern rite, digging into liyue’s past, but you still attended the scheduled events. you still walked the streets and saw the stalls, and there was no way that the entirety of the main road was already taken up when he’d made a point of asking early.

it was because they saw him as a guard first and a dancer second. most people did, and he was lucky they’d given him uncertainty over a guaranteed rejection. the only reason they did at all was because of the constellation etched into his vision, and he was lucky to have that too. he was lucky to have this chance when most street performers could only dream of performing at the lantern rite.

‘lucky.’ it was an accurate word, but one he was beginning to get tired of hearing.

it was fine, though. he was determined—his vision blazed as he left the ministry’s office, a constant warmth at his side—to prove himself, determined to perform for you. he didn’t know when his chance in the stars would be, or when he’d have his time by your side, but he would make the most of each day until then. when, not if, he did, he would do everything in his power to make the best impression possible.

he gave a few polite waves to various merchants as he walked through liyue, making the familiar trek over the bridge and past the gate. the millelith didn’t stop him, and he didn’t stop to say hello, only lingering long enough to acknowledge them with a quick nod. he knew liyue’s hills and they knew he did too, easily navigating to a quiet, flat space of plain. the threat of hillichurls was a constant outside the harbor, but he didn’t let that stop him, confident despite the growing twilight.

ga ming reached into his inventory and pulled on his mask, hands easily finding the controls for the massive puppet. he took a breath, then began to dance, his feet sweeping over the quiet grass.

he had no guarantee when or if he’d receive the chance to chance to win your favor. but if you chose to have him on your stage, he was determined to put on the best show you’d ever seen.

[beyond-the-raining-field]

I have some things to say.

to begin: Neil Gaiman sucks. I loved and looked up to the man because of his work, because I thought his writing was amazing and Good Omens helped me through the toughest time in my life. the recent news however, does change my opinion - as at should for EVERYBODY. I feel disappointed by the Good Omens fandom. I do not think making yourself the victim publicly is at all okay. The women are the victims. If it does turn out to be fake: that’s good. But it does not change the fact that the power imbalance was there and would have affected how the relationship worked from the beginning. No matter if it is fake, right now saying “but how will I enjoy ___” is not okay . I understand, I do. I love Good Omens and I will continue to love Good Omens because it is a piece of media that matters so much to me.

I admit I have gotten of point. To get back on track let me make it simple and clear: You can not say “believe the victim” then go on to say “but Neil Gaiman is a good person…”. He is not. Yes it is wonderful that he has supported queer and trans people but you, I have to say, are not a good person for saying it if it depends on who assaulted - ASSAULTED - someone. No, PEOPLE. Two GIRLS.

Neil Gaiman is not a good person.

You can separate the author and the work, I am doing that with Good Omens as I have done it in the past but you canNOT support and endorse HIM.

And to end it off, if it turns out to be false: good. But he met one of the girls when she was 18, and waited for her to be of age. That is not something good men do.

Believe the victims, it doesn’t matter that you looked up to him. He did something bad, horrible, tragic and disgusting, admit that and talk about it to bring awareness.

And I would like to add: It is hard - and nearly impossible - for me to let go of Good Omens and The Graveyard Book. The Graveyard Book is the only book my father read to me as a child that stuck with me and led to an obsession. The obsessions have died down. If you own his books and enjoy them you are not a bad person, his writing is good. If a book means a lot to you, you are not a bad person. You are only a bad person if you make excuses for him. His is a shitty human who is a good author. Fuck him, but you owning his books doesn’t make you a bad person. Just refrain from buying NEW work.

And if it does turn out to be false, yes it eases the entire fandom. He is still sketchy in my books because as far as I know he cannot prove he has not done anything and got with two very young woman as a much older man.

An updated opinion: Neil Gaiman most likely did it. The amount of tales from people who - as young women - met him and had horrible interactions or stories of friends of his employees. He, most likely, has always been a bad person who simply uses the themes he does to make himself seem like a good person. This is not ours to mourn, it’s ours to take action and keep characters you happen to love alive in yourself instead of something HE did. Or, get rid of your stock. Up to you. It’s 1 am and I am distraught by the news but I’m not denying anything because given every piece of proof to show that he most likely did it, denying it is a bad thing to do and is a horrible name for the fandom.

[tobiasdrake]

Hi! Absolutely adore your DBZ analyses, thank you so much - just spent a delightful time reading them all. I was wondering, since you've commented on Chi-Chi and Goku's marriage, what do you have to say about Vegeta and Bulma's relationship? (I've always been entranced by it - mostly because as with all his romances, Toriyama had the wisdom not to show any of it onscreen. But I'd love to know your thoughts about it.)

Bulma and Vegeta are a match made in Hell, and they deserve each other. (Which is to say yes, I love this ship.)

Hooking Bulma up with Vegeta was a hell of a narrative swerve. Generally speaking, stories rarely do this; They rarely let characters break up once they're already invested in a romance, unless it's supposed to be like a love triangle thing.

And Bulma? Bulma was invested. At least, to a degree.

This was the birth of the original Bulma romance that ran through about half of the manga. Two teens interesting in the opposite sex suddenly realize the availability of the other and a relationship is born.

Toriyama says he's bad at writing romance but to be honest, this has always hit me as more believable than your typical drawn-out five-seasons-of-pining Will They/Won't They affair. I'm a girl. You're a boy. Wanna go out and see what clicks?

And these two... these two do not click. We only really see their relationship from Bulma's perspective but it's clear that these two are miserable together.

The manga sorta takes Bulma's side, in that we never really get to hear Yamcha's opinion about their relationship one way or another. When he's around, all he wants to do is talk shop about martial arts. Since Toriyama doesn't like to write romance, we simply don't see much of it from them. What little we do hear about it comes from Bulma complaining about how miserable she is.

Bulma is pretty much always pissed off whenever the relationship is in focus at all.

Anime filler tends to take Yamcha's side instead, portraying him as a put-upon victim of Bulma's jealousy and abuse. A nice guy who doesn't deserve the way she treats him.

It's not hard to buy into this interpretation of their relationship since, as noted, we rarely get anything from Yamcha with regard to his relationship to women or Bulma specifically but we know Bulma's a lot. It's easy to accept Bulma as the "bad guy" of this relationship because. Like. Remember that time she enslaved a sentient being? Good times.

Though one particular moment from Yamcha later on kinda stands out as a bit of a retroactive Yikes.

Yeah. Uh. Threatening violence against a woman for rejecting his bro is a bit of a Yikes. Is this who we were supposed to see Yamcha as all this time? Because, if so, it might have helped to let him opine about the relationship more. Just saiyan.

According to Toriyama in interview, Yamcha and Bulma ultimately broke up because she caught Yamcha cheating on her. I guess that's what him being "popular with girls" was supposed to mean: Once he got over his gynophobia and found confidence with the opposite sex, Yamcha became a player.

But that doesn't necessarily come across from the statement, "Bulma can't stand that Yamcha's popular with girls." A lot of fans took that to mean girls just like him for no reason, and Bulma's unreasonably jealous about it. The anime took that position too.

Note that the "Yamcha is popular with girls" thing isn't helped by the fact that we never see it on-panel because he's only ever talking shop when he's around. But we do see a wandering eye from Bulma often enough.

There's nothing wrong with enjoying the aesthetic appeal of another party even when you're in a monogamous relationship, but it doesn't really present the "Other party is a womanizer and cheater" case when you're the only one ever seen doing this.

So it feels like there's a lot about Yamcha and Bulma's relationship that never made it to print yet influenced later decisions. Those decisions ended up being controversial because the foundation for those decisions was never laid. Here, Toriyama's disdain for writing romance worked against him.

But ultimately, regardless of whose side you take, it doesn't really matter. It doesn't matter who the "bad guy" is. A healthy relationship does not have a "bad guy" in it.

Whether or not Yamcha cheated, whether or not Bulma's just an unreasonably jealous hell-beast, it doesn't actually matter. What matters is that once you reach the point where you're taking sides over which party is the most obnoxious asshole and I hate you and I wish we never met... this relationship is not working for anybody.

It doesn't matter who the bad guy is. It doesn't matter who deserves the blame for this relationship being a toxic shithole. That there is blame to throw around in the first place is the problem. Every relationship has its ups and downs but if one party is constantly miserable for years and has possibly been looking for an escape hatch since year 1, that's not a little tiff.

What matters is that these two are not working out. Any time we see their relationship in focus, they are miserable together. The anime tried to do some patchwork on that with audience reception by giving them some cute moments as well, but because those moments aren't canon the pair remained miserable.

And then this happened.

Despite everything, I think we all assumed that Bulma and Yamcha were going to work it out. Fictional relationships are often portrayed as tumultuous. To a writer, nothing says true love like being constantly miserable and despising every waking moment you spend with your awful, nagging ball-and-chain of a spouse. That's just. Like. What the straights think romance is. It's weird.

I think we all thought that was going to be the deal here too. And then Trunks came along and said, "Nope, actually, they finally severed the cord."

Again, Toriyama says he's bad at writing romance but holy shit, the toxic and miserable relationship actually ended. The two characters involved who only got together out of loneliness and desperation later found they were incompatible with each other. That's so real. Much moreso than a lot of fictional romances.

Instead, we got the absolute crack ship that is Vegeta and Bulma. What a wild-ass revelation for Trunks to drop.

Like. Until the end of the Namek arc, this was the only time these two characters even met.

She also saw Vegeta for like two seconds here.

That was it. That was their entire history together until Goku defeated Frieza while Kaio sent everyone to Earth. But that's when everything changed for Vegeta.

Stranded on Earth with no ship, no affiliations, no ability to leave the planet and nowhere to go or be and no obligations to anyone but himself, Vegeta's circumstances were wildly different than they'd ever been before. He had become one of the Namekian refugees.

And Bulma was offering refuge.

Hard to resist, indeed. That moment is absolutely hilarious in retrospect. Bulma rolled a Nat 20 on that charisma check. It's pretty clear who the instigator of this relationship was.

Like. It needs to be stated that at this point, the only thing Bulma knew about Vegeta was that he tried to kill them all multiple times, and also he's kinda hot. But. Like.

It's Bulma. Anyone who doesn't expect this from her by now either hasn't been paying attention or started watching the English dub of the anime when they did Z first.

So, naturally, Vegeta is a kind and loving man and became a phenomenal husband and fa--

Wait. No. I got my notes mixed up. It says here Vegeta's a rotten dirty bastard. Like. Chronically. He has Supreme Dickshit Syndrome. It's genetic.

Most of Bulma and Vegeta's developing relationship happens offscreen. From what snippets we get, Vegeta has a tendency to vanish during the day, but he still lives at Capsule Corp so Bulma sees him around.

By the end of the three-year timeskip, it's official. Or semi-official. Yamcha and Bulma broke up at some point during that timeskip and Bulma's given birth to Trunks.

As for Vegeta, he's evidently moved out of Capsule Corp and into his own place.

I guess he's still keeping contact with Bulma since she knows what his intentions are. Not to mention he found his tranquility during these three years, though it's somewhat ambiguous as to what exactly brought that peace to his heart.

But the relationship is off to a rocky start nonetheless. Clearly something went down between Vegeta and Bulma that drove Vegeta out of Capsule Corp. To. Uh. Somewhere.

I like to imagine Vegeta living in some shitty West City apartment he rents off a stipend Bulma's sending him that he refuses to openly acknowledge. Like, room 101 is a down-on-his-luck tax accountant, room 102 is a couple with a kid trying to make ends meet off two retail workers' salaries, and then room 103 is Vegeta, Prince of All Saiyans. Sometimes he goes to community events and pretends he isn't having fun.

No lie, I would absolutely watch that as a sitcom.

As for Vegeta himself, he's still a rotten dirty bastard.

Worth noting that Vegeta's saying this as a Super Saiyan which means he's drunk on the form's enhanced aggression. But. Still. Vegeta is an absolute monster being dragged kicking and screaming into a pleasant life that he'll one day resent himself for enjoying. This is his arc moving forward.

It's not so much a redemption arc as it is a domestication arc. The uniquely evil even by Saiyan standards Vegeta is gradually being changed by his new terrestrial life. He doesn't want to own up to how much he enjoys it here. Seven years later, he's still desperate to avoid owning up to it.

He doesn't want to be happy here. He doesn't want a loving wife and a son who looks up to him and the most lavish home wealth can afford him and easy, comfortable days spent with friends and loved ones by his side. He doesn't want a happy ending.

But it's like Bulma warned him: Dragon Ball's queen bee is hard to resist.

Welcome back to Capsule Corp, Vegeta. We hardly even noticed you were gone. Honestly, Future Trunks deserves a lot of the credit for this; Watching him die at the Cell Games was what flipped the switch in Vegeta's head that he wants the family he and Bulma have spawned together.

Sure is a good thing we have Dragon Balls because this is a hell of a time to suddenly decide you love your son. But we see the consequences of that seven years later, since Vegeta moved back into Capsule Corp from... I don't know, wherever he went. They're gonna miss him at the next community poolside summer BBQ event for all tenants.

Part of what makes Vegeta and Bulma work, I think, is that they're on the same page about one crucial point. For Bulma, there is one person who will always take precedent in her life above all others. Romance comes and romance goes, but this is the relationship that matters most to her.

Especially when it comes to martial arts and fighting. Bulma doesn't know a lot about the subject, but she knows that Son Goku is her #1. She has no reservations about saying that to her lover's face either.

When fists start flying, Bulma knows who she's rooting for. If Goku's involved, then it's not her guy. That's. Just. Something that anyone who wants to be with her has to be willing to understand. The single most important relationship in Bulma's life will always be her friendship with Goku.

And the thing about Vegeta is... He kind of agrees? Like. See above, re: I wanted Babidi to destroy my feelings for Bulma so that I could become the warrior that can fight with you, Kakarot.

As much as Goku will always be Bulma's #1, he'll also always be Vegeta's #1. He even gets included into Vegeta's fond farewell to the family he loves.

Goku is basically the platonic third in a two-person polycule. This is the second marriage that this poor ace plays a vital role in despite having no real interest in romance whatsoever.

Bulma is selfish, spiteful, petty, and vain. At one point, DBS: Broly directly compares her to Frieza; A comparison that manages to be unbelievably unflattering to both participants.

They're the same picture. A revelation that would probably be horrifying to both.

And Vegeta. Especially Vegeta. But. Like. She warned you she was irresistible. You didn't take her seriously and now look where you are. Married to the She-Frieza. Maybe you should think about your life choices.

This is just. So much fun. As I said at the outset, Bulma and Vegeta are a match made in Hell who make it work because they're both similar brands of awful.

As for Yamcha, it's a little known fact but Yamcha rebounded and moved on with his life. He stops having much story relevancy after he leaves Capsule Corporation so we see very little of his private life from there. After retiring from martial arts and splitting up with Bulma, Yamcha's left without any story hooks to keep him involved.

But there was this interesting moment, when he realized they had a Shenron wish to spare.

After Krillin comes up with something better to use the wish on, he takes it back and claims it was a joke.

This is, surprisingly, a point of contention in the fandom as some of Yamcha's fans prefer the idea that he died miserable and alone after Bulma ruined his life by leaving him. This takeback gets pointed to as proof that he made up his girlfriend entirely. However, in context, it's clear that a) he's trying to brush off his earlier attempt at making a petty wish and b) the thing he's transparently pretending was a joke is the necklace wish, not the existence of his new girlfriend.

Like Bulma, Yamcha moved on with his life after the break up of their miserable relationship. And that was the final word that was ever uttered on Yamcha's romantic prospects, because this was the last time he was ever meaningfully involved with anything at all.

[icycoldninja]

Headcanons for the Sparda lads and V getting massages from their s/o? Assuming they'd want one/would be comfortable with it, I mean.

Absolutely, here you go! 💜

Sparda boys + V x Reader massage headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-Is very, very stiff after years of fighting demons, doing crazy aerial acrobatics, getting stabbed in the chest, and falling asleep almost every night in his wooden office chair.

-Was a little shocked when you offered to give him a massage because no one had ever suggested something like that. Ever.

-His muscles were kinda sore though, so he agreed and hopped onto his bed, stomach down.

-The moment you started kneading his back, he heard so many cracks. It was like years of stress, trauma, both physical and mental, tension and pain was being popped and squeezed right out of him. It was such a good, relieving sensation.

-He soon melted into it, enjoying every second of your masterful mashing of his muscles with delighted little "Oh"s and "Ah"s.

-When you were finished, he found himself to be twice as flexible as before; the discomfort of a million battles finally gone. He'll definitely be coming back for a round two in the near future.

■ Vergil ■

-Does not like being touched by most people for whatever reason. He is constantly paranoid and afraid that he will be attacked if he lets someone touch him.

-However, you're a different story. He knows you wouldn't do anything to hurt him and that he could trust you, so he agrees to your offer of a massage, with some half-hearted grumbling.

-He wasn't sure what to expect from this "massage", but it certainly wasn't what he got. The moment you set to work on his taut, tense, rock-hard muscles, he felt himself instantly relax. He even let out a soft little moan.

-Vergil enjoyed the massage a lot more than he ever expected to. The sensation of having someone press down on your tense areas without murderous intentions was pure bliss.

-When you announced that you were finished with the massage, he whined. Yes, he genuinely, actually, unmistakbly whined. You thought he would request a continuation, but no. He simply stood up, stretched, and slipped his jacket back on.

-Massages are now a nightly tradition between the two of you. He even goes out and gets different lotions and oils for you to experiment with.

□ Nero □

-Nero has never had a massage in his life, nor has he ever wanted one. He didn't dislike the notion of you giving him a massage, nor did he like it. He simply accepted it to make you happy.

-Turns out massages are way better than he could have ever imagined! He just can't get over how it seems to make all his stiffness melt away.

-Now he wants you to massage his legs, arms, shoulders, and neck too--oh, and also the rest of his body.

-At one point he fell asleep while you were massaging him, proving one of two things: Either A, he's very, very, tired, or B, he's just that relaxed.

-Getting massages from you is now the number one thing Nero looks forward to when he comes home from missions.

-Sometimes he has Nico put together a new, vibrating attachment for his arm--which he will then give to you so you can have a helping hand.

● V ●

-V has never heard of a massage and therefore has no idea what it is.

-After Googling it, he deduces that such an activity would benefit him, and that he would be wise to take up your offer.

-And so he does; while the sensations are an entirely new experience for him, he finds them very enjoyable. In fact, they're so helpful in mitigating his stress, he should write a poem about them.

-V loves to have you massage his legs because they're so weary from traveling and supporting his lanky frame all day long.

-Also, he can read while you massage his legs, which makes it all the more comforting.

-Massages are now one of his top stress-relievers, other than cuddling with Shadow, that is.

[vanderlesbian]

141 dating a civilian

hii!! this is a self indulgent belated bday gift to myself (im 20 now...) but i hope u guys enjoy it!! also feel free to leave requests in my asks bc i am so bad at thinking of prompts but ive been wanting to write so bad LOL

writing this had made me realize that i love writing gaz content........i am obsessed with him.........

gn reader! no warnings :)

masterlist

captain john price

- price loves being around you—you bring a sense of normalcy that relaxes him. when he's home, he enjoys doing domestic things around the home. he offers to do the laundry, he'll make you tea in the mornings, he feeds the dog and cat you two raise together and will go with you on any errands you need to run. when he's with you, he never thinks about work, which makes you happy because you hate to see him overworking himself.

- i feel like you two would meet through laswell. a mutual friend, you and price would meet one another at a pub or something of the sort. immediately, the two of you take an interest in one another, and laswell would catch onto that rather quickly and finds it endearing. when getting to know one another, you mention the fact that you live alone, which gives price the excuse to hand you his number. "in case you need anything", is what he told you, and you could've sworn you saw laswell snickering behind him. regardless, you ended up texting him a few days after that, asking him if he knew how to fix cars.

- loves going on vacations with you!! when price has a decent period of time off, he'll ask you if you want to go somewhere, to which you always answer yes. road trips are his favorite, because driving for long periods of time is something calming for him and he enjoys the fact that it's just the two of you traveling. maybe you'll go camping, or perhaps you'll drive a country over to spend a few days in a different city; whatever it is, you and price always have a nice time. while he gets to travel a lot, he recognizes that you don't have the same opportunity, so he loves to take you places as see your reactions to things. when he's deployed, he's always on the lookout for places to take you later.

- one of your favorite things to do is visit price while he's in the office. you usually bring him a meal, whether it be home made or take out because you know he's going to forget about grabbing himself something to eat. he always thanks you with a kiss, then you linger for a moment to speak to him, giving him time to eat and take a break from his work. while you're visiting price, all of his attention is on you, and if a soldier knocks on his door and asks to speak to him, he'll use his captain voice to tell them to come by later unless it's an emergency.

- price is very proud to call you his partner. although he tries not to bring you up too often at work because of privacy and professional reasons, he likes to mention you casually every now and then, especially with laswell or the other 141 members. he's proud of the work you do, no matter what your career is; he's just likes to brag about his amazing partner. he will do his signature v shaped smile whenever someone says in surprise,"oh, your partner is a/n [occupation]? how cool!"

simon "ghost" riley

- ghost is a listener, not a talker. and boy, does he love listening to you ramble on about your day. he finds it cute; the way you complain how expensive your coffee was that morning, or how you couldn't decide what to wear to simply go pick up a snack from the store. his responses include a lot of "oh really?", "i bet", and some snarky comments when you bring up a coworker that you don't particularly like. ghost is quiet, but his little responses show that he's well invested in your stories.

- just like everything else in his life, ghost keeps his relationship with you very private. it took him quite a while to even tell any of the other 141 members that he was in a relationship, simply because he didn't feel the need to tell them. he also wanted to protect you; not that he didn't trust the other members, but he was scared of your name accidentally being said to the wrong person. you were innocent, and ghost didn't want to ruin that innocence with the dark realities of his job and put you in danger.

- listen; meeting him at a music store. you would definitely be the one to initiate things, so when you saw a tall, handsome man flipping through records beside you, it made you look for an excuse to speak to him. "that's a good album", you would then finally speak up after watching him pull out a vinyl by the doors. ghost would honestly be taken aback; no one ever really strikes up conversation with him in public. "yeah" would be his response, but the dryness of it didn't stop you from continuing the conversation. after you two begin dating, ghost will often bring up how you were insistent on speaking to him, which never fails to bring a shy blush to your cheeks.

- you think it's amusing to have such a "scary" looking boyfriend. he tags along behind you whenever the two of you go out, and you often forget how large and intimidating he looks to others, especially because he always wears dark colored outfits and a face mask out in public. imagine ghost lingering behind you like a lost puppy while you mindlessly look through clothes at a store. when you're at the register, you notice the cashier glancing behind you, forgetting that ghost is looming over you like a bodyguard.

- speaking of others reactions, you love showing ghost off to people. you'll be spending time with friends, family, coworkers—whoever, and you get so excited whenever they ask if you have a boyfriend. you think it's funny to see their eyes widen when you pull up a photo saying "this is simon, he's deployed right now but (blah blah blah)". you had asked ghost for his permission to show photos of him to others while he wasn't around, and at first he was hesitant, but after hearing about the reactions he gives people, he doesn't care anymore. people think "that's their boyfriend?", which makes ghost smile to himself because yes, he's all yours.

kyle "gaz" garrick

- you two have this thing where the moment he opens the door after coming home from a mission, you'll sprint into his arms and he never fails to pick you up off your feet and squeeze you tight. gaz greets you like he hasn't seen you in years, covering your face and neck in kisses and spinning you around in his arms for what feels like forever.

- loves to facetime you when he's away. sometimes you'll be in different timezones, but both of you will be willing to stay up at 3 in the morning jusst to talk to one another. gaz always gives you room tours of whatever place he's staying at while deployed, or he'll call you while he's out shopping to ask what souvenir you'd like best. sometimes the other 141 boys will pop in to say hello, or gaz will shove the camera in their face to ask if they have anything to say to you.

- i feel that gaz would easily become jealous, especially because he can't be with you all the time. while he's away from you, you'll text or call him about an encounter at work or while you were out and about where someone tried hitting on you, earning a snarky remark from gaz. they always make you giggle because you're aware how protective he is of you, and they're often silly remarks like "they're lucky i wasn't there" or "should've told 'em your boyfriend is 6'5 and a wrestler"

- gaz is younger, so i feel that you would be a university student or something of the sort when you first met him. working part time at a local coffee shop at the time, you vividly remember gaz complimenting you the first time you served him. "you're very pretty/handsome, by the way" he said confidently, but quickly walked off before you could thank him. after that, gaz came in as often as he could, learning something new about you each time he came in, and it got to a point where you would simply give him a drink or pastry for free each time he came in. eventually he would ask you out, offering to take you somewhere after your shift, to which you immediately agreed to.

- when gaz visits your place, it's always like a silly little sleepover. the two of you will watch comically bad movies, make homemade pizza, play those couple's card games and he'll listen to you talk about any gossip you have. when gaz is with you, he takes it as his time to just be himself because he's so comfortable in your presence. he doesn't have to worry about being formal with you, and the two of you are equally as silly as you spend time with one another.

john "soap" mactavish

- soap doesn't like to bother you with his work. when he's with you, he'll always be so upbeat and playful, but you've learned to be able to notice when he's particularly stressed or tired. he insists that he's fine, telling you that you don't have to worry about him as he tries to play it off. he's a bit stubborn about it, so sometimes you have to bother him just a bit before he finally gives in and tells you what's up, or simply agrees to laying down and having a rest.

- okay, picture this. you meet soap at a dog park. i think he would have a german shepherd...which is besides the point, but when your dog and his both stop in their tracks to be friendly with one another, both of you feel that it's only natural to make conversation, right? the two of you quickly hit it off, to which you credit mostly to soap for being much more extroverted than you are, and the two of you talk about your dogs for a bit before the conversation focuses on yourselves. smoothly, soap would ask for you to join him on another trip to the dog park sometime, using the excuse that your dogs seemed to like each other.

- soap loves to text you while he's away, and other than gaz, he would be the one to text you the most out of any of the boys. he mostly sends a lot of random pictures of things he says reminds you of him, but will also update you on a bunch of random little things he's doing. "just shit in this french bathroom" "johnny i don't need to know that" "had to tell somebody"

- will leave plenty of his clothes for you to wear while he's gone, and it's practically all you wear during that time. you'll leave the house in an outfit completely made up of your boyfriend's clothes because they're just so comfortable, and it makes you feel less lonely having his scent lingering with you. even when soap is home, you still constantly wear his clothes, and 90% of his wardrobe is practically yours.

- soap would love to visit YOU at work. you forget your chapstick? he's on his way. you text him that you're hungry and forgot to pack a meal? he's bringing you your favorite fast food. although he's busy and can't stop by all the time, soap tries to stop by as often as he can, and all of your coworkers have learned to recognize him. "here comes johnny" one of them will point out, making you quickly whip your head around to look.

[modeus-the-misanthrope]

MODEUS'S BETTER DLC PLOTLINE! (According to my own personal tastes.) Now I am going to order this from, Easiest/Simplest changes to make to the hardest/most complex changes to make.

Stage 1.

Replace Radahn being Miquella's consort with Godwyn. Yes, this makes Miquella, the Brother Lover, still canon. But Miquella has already tried so many ways to fully kill Godwyn in the base game that it comes across as a fixation, it would make sense that if he were in the land where all death resides, and decide, "Well, if killing him fully won't work. What about bringing him back? The only way to do it seems to be taking my own brother as my consort...but I wouldn't mind Godwyn as my consort. He was super nice and really strong." That keeps Miquella's established character motivation from the base game, but also extends it as the DLC did. Why would Freya be there? Make Radahn's body part of the ritual to bring back Godwyn the same as Mogh's was. Easy. I can fully believe that you would need two demigods to bring back someone's soul from the dead.

Yes this does mean a completely new bossfight. Don't care. The final boss of a damned 40$ dlc should not be a remixed or a recycled boss. Tough titties, Fromsoftware.

Stage 2.

Radahn's soul could have still played a factor in the story. Maybe he carried the mental scars from what the scarlet rot made him do into the afterlife, causing him to be nearly broken in spirit. Now he simply sits with his back against a massive tree/rock, in a small area cut off from the rest of the Lands of Shadow, depressed and mourning how he idolized Godfrey when this place and the eternal genocide occuring in it were part of his legacy.

Bonus points if you wanna get spicy with it. Have Malenia also be there if you killed her in the base game, now feeling abandoned by the twin she dedicated herself towards. She sits on the opposite side of the tree/stone to Radahn, in a similar sitting pose as him, as they talk about mundane things like the weather. Basically being two proud warriors who don't know how to apologize to eachother for their fight, both feeling guilty now that they know it was for such horrid or petty reasons.

Stage 3.

Almost all of the Demigods should have been NPC's you could interact with in the DLC. Morgott sitting at the top of the Suppresion Pillar trying to reconcile his faith in the Erdtree with the fact that in this culture he would have been practically worshipped for the traits he and his twin were shunned for. Placidusax lounging next to the Grand Altar of the Grand Altar of Dragon Communion, having forgiven you now that their body has been fully restored in death. Rykard back in human form with a suspiciously large serpent pet, enjoying the tranquility of the Cerulean coast. While obviously scheming to feed his serpent all the corpses inside of the massive Stone Coffins, but not knowing anyway to break them open.

Basically gimme a story that felt like it took two years to write. Cause while the gameplay, level design, and atmosphere are 11/10's. The story of this dlc in regards to Miquella, is TERRIBLE.

[wwillywonka]

spock crying in the the motion picture novelization

as i was watching star trek the motion picture today, i found myself wondering how closely it and the book align only to find that the essential scene, the thesis statement of the tmp story, where spock draws a direct parallel between v'ger and himself while crying is simply... not in the book. i know the version that's more widely available now is the director's cut and that said scene wasn't even in the original theatrical release, but the movie is simply incomplete without it. so! i decided to write out the scene as if it were in the book! please enjoy my take on a prose version of spock's beautiful speech

“Spock?” Then, when his Science Officer did not answer, “Mr. Spock.”

Kirk rose from the captain’s chair and made for the console where Spock sat, facing away from him towards the screen that displayed Vejur’s activity.

“I think -" Kirk began.

Then, Spock turned towards him in his chair, hand releasing from its resting place against the thin line of his mouth. He was — crying. A single, shimmering tear was streaking down his left cheek. His eyes, usually so dark and, since his return from Vulcan, so indecipherable, now shone brightly under the dim, warm light of the bridge. His eyebrows crinkled inwards, not in contemplative thought but, and Kirk would have never guessed, worry. It seemed that open, unashamed emotion left over from Spock’s mind meld with the intruder had not yet dissipated, though Kirk was unsure if Spock’s tears were more Vejur’s than his own.

Spock nodded his head, lifting it a little towards his captain, slightly accusatorily. There was no attempt to hide, no apologetic aversion of gaze. It seemed as if he were telling Jim, “Yes, believe what you are seeing, Captain.

“I have returned.”

Kirk felt McCoy step into place at his side, the doctor’s eyes settling on the now multiple tears pooling down Spock’s face. The captain shared a look with McCoy, acknowledging their mutual concern and astonishment towards their friend.

“Not for us,” Kirk finally stated.

“No, Captain. Not for us.” Spock’s voice, if perhaps a little softer than usual, was confident, steady, calm. Certain. “For Vejur.”

Spock raised his hands, intertwining the fingers in a familiar, thoughtful gesture, but kept them suspended in the air, fidgeting.

Commander Decker approached, too, eyebrows furrowing as he took in the image before him. Kirk showed no sign of acknowledging his presence, the captain’s attention entirely focused on his friend.

“I weep for Vejur as I would for a brother," Spock continued. "As I was when I came aboard, so is Vejur now. Empty, incomplete, and searching. Logic and knowledge are not enough.”

Kirk thought back to every argument, every insistent remark Spock made during their initial five-year mission about his lack of emotion, about his fundamental inability to consider anything else but logic and careful reasoning. Were these out of desperation, a need for the humans of the old Enterprise crew to accept his words as fact so that he, too, could cement their validity? Maybe in Spock’s mind, the more times he declared it, the closer it would be to coming true.

“Spock,” McCoy cut in, colliding reality with Kirk’s thoughts and Spock’s poetic words. “Are you saying that you’ve found what you needed, but Vejur hasn’t?” Decker spoke first. “What would Vejur need to fulfill itself?” Spock moved his gaze towards the main screen, just past Kirk’s head in his line of sight. “Each of us, at some time in our lives, turns towards someone: a father, a brother, a god… and asks, ‘Why am I here? What was I meant to be?’” He took in a sharp breath. “Vejur hopes to touch its creator-“ And now, he lifted his gaze, meeting Kirk’s eyes. “To find its answers.”

“‘Is this all that I am?’” said the captain, quoting Spock’s words from their conversation in sickbay. “‘Is there nothing more?’”

[jazeswhbhaven]

The Encounter of Two Flames | React | Spoilers

SO LOVELIES I REALLY ENJOYED THESE TWO PARTS LEMME TELL YA

Like...especially when part 6 came about???? Ahhhhh anyways let's goooo

We start with Satan rollin' and tusslin' with Sitri (who isn't being called Sitri just yet, just a devil with no name) and I'm just like damn so it's like that huh?

But I mean...why wouldn't it be? Hell is pretty much a place where anything goes so this isn't really above that with random devils being feral and attackin' folks lol

But...why did they have to say "he pinned his arms on the ground" because my brain did not see that innocently.

ANYWAYS

I know he's pretty much all instinct and no brain cells, but feral Sitri is giving me what I need. A devil at his core without direction. The thrill, the danger, all of datttt.

BUT again, I digress....(over here simpin' for feral sitri like i'm s t a r v i n g)

So it seems Satan has found this rumored devil beast and tries to talk with him, but to his surprise he is unable to speak to him in words just growls.

I like how Satan just casually comments that devils are just fucking made without proper thought. I'm sure early on he meant God and not necessarily Lilith (or honestly he could have meant both of them who knows)

So he tries to test Sitri, and was even like "should I kill you?" and Sitri ofc responds very aggressively, indicating that he can't speak but he can understand Satan. I really want to know his thought process and how he processes Satan's words though.

I know that the devil's have their own language, because it's been brought up a couple times in the side stories with Ppyong and Minhyeok with Ppyong complaining that he can't read Minhyeok's language but he can still understand him. So if Sitri can't read or talk...I wonder how it is he can understand his native tongue? Perhaps body language, that sort of thing.

Satan indirectly telling Sitri he has big D energy lolololololololol

Seriously though, he asks for Sitri to be his subordinate but he just straight up BITES him lmao

flashback to me writing about my fankid Cain biting Satan's arm too...it seems that Satan is used to this kind of reaction after all. This also was by chance I had no idea they were going to have this happen for them lol

So he's just out here chewin' and munching on his arms and then....

Apparently by drinking Satan's blood you can also see his memories. And that's an interesting fact that I shall use in my future writing later....

So it turns out that he saw a lot through Satan's blood, making it to where he even backs away from him and tries to keep his distance, Satan is just over here like "haha told you so, you can't beat me." and well he would be right. At this point he could very much get rid of Sitri in a second.

Buttt not so fast.

So Satan thanks him for killing off angels in Gehenna, and Sitri tries AGAIN to attack him and gets a swift kick in the gut. It seems our feral boi just won't let up just yet. Satan even brings up the fact that Sitri may be pissed that he saw that there are other devils he simply can't defeat.

He even calls him out by saying Sitri does like him he just doesn't know how to process everything at the moment. He offers to show him more.

Oh my.

So Satan does the craziest thing (his poor red lump friends are freaking out this entire time btw) and pulls out his fucking heart! So ya'll who guessed that it was Satan's heart were in fact correct. It appears that devil's hearts are just smaller versions of themselves, which is a cool concept instead of looking like a human heart. Which I mean yes that would make sense a devil's heart would be different.

The reason Satan even did this though, is because Sitri has to see and accept his blood properly, straight from the source of his heart/core. And I'm just like this is so badass when you really think about it because I imagine if the other Kings had found Sitri first it would go very different and Satan is just like "yah drink my blood it's all good, we're bonding"

also this cg is very pretty like sunset/sunrise in the backgroun, satan's pretty pink hair, that little fang...ahhhhhhhhh

He's makin' us fall in love with him all over again ain't he?

Feral Sitri is thinking very deeply about taking the offer of biting into Satan's heart...it's really just wild to me though that this was his life prior to what we're seeing now. Just living off the land, killing, with raw power??? I mean...just from this lore alone we know that Sitri is really fucking strong, and I wonder if he's the strongest noble out of all the countries. That's something to think about. (i mean he did fucking set all of gehenna on fire from being depressed so...)

So Feral Sitri takes a bite, and well...it's a night and day difference when he does!!

The information processes so much I think I would personally go mad from having to do that but Sitri is doing well. He learns about the Kings, Hell, how it all ties together, Satan being the one to run front and center of it all.

He calls him "Master" and even starts crying and stuff.

Ya'll this entire time I could only think about this....

Also the scene where he and Lestat first exchange blood.

Phew....like Sitri being all submissive and level headed just gives me vibes from this movie (and show)

I'm sorry ya'll I'll stop LMAO (the music in the background in the event didn't help)

But yes, Sitri is totally tamed now after seeing Satan's full self, memories, and that he is going to forever be his devil. His right hand, ride or die, basically everything. And thus why we see that he has so much devotion for Satan and values his opinion.

OH SO SATAN NAMED HIM SITRI

And Sitri says it back to which the red lump devils blush when hearing him say it. (I love these little guys they are adorable)

Satan goes to say that he liked him upon first meeting him and that he wants him to stay by his side, learn to read and fight, and he mentions for Levi to raise him???

And me and the devils and Sitri are like???? Satan what? who?

LOL NOT LEVI COMIN' IN WITH THE INSULT

and Satan is like "You can't call me that unless you're Mammon"

w h

a t

Turns out Mammon is there too.

there goes my theory that he was trapped.....

So I was way off, it seems that this happened after Mammon's origin story which would have me believe that it's possible that Mammon is older than Satan, and possibly older than Levi, but not older than Beel and Lucifer. And technically since Belphie is still asleep, who knows how old he is. Me trying to figure out this timeline has me running in circles lol

So Levi and Mammon are there because they were trying to get Sitri first...perhaps Leviathan just wanted Sitri for his own reasons, and Mammon wanted him just because and I assume Bimet wasn't an adult just yet to be his right hand devil at this time.

Satan is feeling dizzy and requested a healing devil, Mammon is just like "ah hell you're cute I'll help you."

screaming because this is pretty much why i love their dynamic and why Astra is in a polyship with them...

Levi was just gonna let his ass pass out. lmao Instead he's bitching about how Satan is requesting him to "raise this filthy beast" and not hand him over (Levi calls Sitri an "it" but that's to be expected with his rude ass lol)

And Satan is like "I'll invade Hades if you don't" and I'm laughing my ass off because that's such a Satan thing to say.

And Levi just kinda scruffs Sitri like a cat and is like "Ugh he stinks" and Mammon is happy that Levi is listening to Satan and wants to pat his head and Levi ofc is pissed and saying for Mammon to back the fuck up.

Even back then Leviathan is just taking names and dishing out the heat. He's only listening because he finds it annoying if he lets Satan just raid out Hades like that.

The red lumps assume that it's because Satan is strong and would win, but-

Levi. Bro. Sir. P L E A S E lmaoooooo

I'm crying.

But Satan tells a struggling Sitri that since he found him first to make sure he comes back and stays strong while under Levi.

Levi is just out here having the time of his life though just scruffin' Sitri, and treating him like some object or weapon which okay I guess Levi go off.

"I may invade Gehenna to get my hands on this thing once I unlock its abilities"

*EYE ROLL*

Don't say that about Sitri. I'll box you.

The babies. Mammon probably was just holding him like :)))) look at this cute devil that I own. So small, so delicate...

I love them your honor.

Then some time later....Foras is doing his whole thing and saying that a devil wants to request an audience with Levi.

Ya'll do you see how annoyed he is already like goddamn what were you doing that was so important?

But he knows it's Sitri that wants to see him....and well it seems that we will learn on part 7 what he wants!!!

So the reason that part 6 was my favorite is obvious, because ya'll saw me going ham on those gifs and enjoying the interaction with the Kings once again meeting up in one area. It really just has me knowing that their "friendships" are that far back...and their dynamics will always stay the same. Levi always giving empty threats, Satan being headstrong, Mammon in the back just being casual and observing while patronizing his peers without knowing that's a bad thing to do lol

But I'm one step closer to figuring out this timeline ya'll...it's still far but I'm getting there slowly...this is one of the times I actually care about lore timelines even though my fic doesn't really follow it anyways. (it's important though for my fankid au)

But yeesss I'll see ya'll on the next react! I'm stacking 'em up again so it will be day 7 and 8 the next go around.

[slytherhys]

Too Sweet (for me) - Part I

A/N: everybody say thank you Hozier for releasing this song and for making me wanna write smut inspired by it. (this is a 2 parts oneshot and chapter II will be posted tomorrow! Enjoy :)

TW: explicit language; explicit sexual content

Part II

Word Count: 906 words | You can also find this story on AO3!

Red, fae lights flashed through the dimmed hall of the pleasure hall, each spark of light revealing bodies moving, dancing, grinding to the obnoxiously loud music as patrons lost themselves in each other’s unfamiliar touch. Azriel wasn’t sure if he was amused or appalled as he watched them from where he leaned against the bar, taking a sip from his whiskey glass. He settled on relieved that not a single familiar face looked back.

If the people around him were curious about why the court’s Spymaster was among them, they didn’t let it show. Other than the pretty fae looking his way with a coy smile every now and then, no one else seemed all that interested in his presence – which served him just right. He wasn’t particularly interested in making conversation. In fact, the very purpose of being here was to be able to forget about himself – about who he was, what and who he wanted – for just a single fucking moment.

He wasn’t sure he was being all that successful.

He signalled the barman for another glass, wondering if maybe the key to forgetting it all was to simply do as they all did – to get so shitfaced that the touch of a stranger wouldn’t repulse him, that his worries and doubts would disappear, drowned in a dangerous amount of alcohol that not even his Illyrian body would be able to burn through fast enough. Rhysand had seemed to think so.

Azriel wasn’t as convinced.

Not when, even three glasses of whiskey in, he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about her. A kaleidoscope of memories haunted him each time he blinked, painting those empty, craving moments with images of her parted pink lips, her breath, warm and wet against his skin, her hooded brown eyes. How they fluttered shut when his scarred hand wrapped around her throat. A gentle yes so sweet, it had nearly sent him to his knees.

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? She was entirely too fucking sweet for him. A lightness that he knew wasn’t for him, no matter how much he craved it. No matter how much he craved her. And, Mother, did he crave her.

But he couldn’t have her. That much, had been made pretty clear.

So Azriel gulped down his drink, wincing as it burned a path down his throat. He willed it to numb him, even if he knew how unlikely it was that he’d be able to burn her memory away from his brain. But that was why was here – to stop him from wanting what he couldn’t have. Or at least to forget about it. At least for the night, he could replace her satin skin for someone else’s, and maybe the rough touch of a stranger would wash away the memory of her soft hands and all the times they had held on to him. Maybe a night spent fucking someone new would make him forget about all the fucked-up, twisted fantasies of her tied to his bed and how they had brought him release.  

He eyed the pretty fae looking his way, eyed the dancefloor with its pumping heartbeat, an incitation promising all sorts of wicked things – and let himself go.

He wasn’t entirely sure how long it took him. Didn’t particularly care about anything but the wind on his face, the cold biting into his skin, sobering him up as he flew. He clenched his hands as he landed on a familiar garden, willing his heartbeat to slow the fuck down as he blinked away the darkness that suddenly seemed to surround him. He didn’t need to look around to know where he was – he knew exactly where he was. Knew the pansies and the violets and the gardenias that peppered up the front lawn just as he knew that there wasn’t a world where he could avoid her a second longer.

This was a bad idea. A terrible idea. He had no business being here, absolutely no business wanting her to open the front door, preferably dressed in her pink satin robe, cheeks rosy and a soft smile on her lips. He had no right to smile at the thought of her welcoming him into her home, into her bed, into her body. He had no right to listen to her sweet moans, to feel her panting against his naked skin as he slid into her–

“Are you coming in?” A sweet voice interrupted him, indecent thoughts coming to a halt. Azriel whirled around, taking in the sight in front of him. Shivers ran down his spine as he watched her watch him back. Leaning against the door, hair tousled and falling down her back, Elain Archeron was a fucking vision. Her cheeks were rosy, her arms crossed over her chest. Under her open, pink satin robe he could see a glimpse of lace that had him swallowing down every obscene thought going through his mind. Elain tilted her head, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking about and wasn't particularly impressed. For a second, he wondered if she would take back her question and send him back to his apartment, but without waiting for a reply, she turned around and went back inside, leaving the front door wide open. An invitation if there ever was one.

He knew, without a doubt, he had no fucking right to follow her inside.

And yet, he did.

[woodle-isbae]

Omggg can you make a 2 pt story about black reader and skreamer from supacell. Nobody writes about the finest characters!!

Floods

Skreamz x black!reader

Warnings : reader is a bit nerdy? That's really all.

Pt.2-> Floods Pt.2

You opened the door , being met with a bright white light and a group of boys surrounding a bed. Murmurs and laughs comming from the small group , one of them turning around to look at you, quickly turning back when they saw you.

"Y/N!"

Twosie said your name with Glee , the boys turning over to see you and greet you with hugs. You were in the hospital to see your Cousin, Tayo ,after hearing he got hurt at some party.

"Hey boys...is he alright?"

"Yes , I'm fine..why are you here tho?"

Your eyes meeting the man you were here for , in a patient gown and tucked in nicely in the bed. Your eyes scanned the crowd for a brief moment , sitting on a certain face longer than the others.

"You need a family member to sign you out so you can be discharged...and I should be asking You that."

"Them sixxer yutes ma-"

"He just got Inna fight."

A deep voice spoke out , your brow arching in a 'I don't belive it but okay' way, Simply leaving it at that. You signed him out , about to leave the hospital, walking through the hallway until someone held you back.

"You probably know why he was here...right?"

You turned over , arms crossed as you shook your head 'yes'. He just scoffed moving closer to you until you had your back against the wall, his hands resting on your hips.

"Why haven't you been comming over?"

You voice laced with sadness and anger , your own boyfriend has been avoiding you like the plague.

"What happened to Tazer...I can't let the sixxers get to you to hurt us."

You knew the things he did weren't something you want to get involved with. He knew that they would try anything to take down The tower Boys , that included hurting You.

"I can't have that happening...Tazer would blame himself ,even if it was fully My fault."

You only stared at him , knowing he couldn't bare to be the reason you were harmed. You rested your hand softly on his cheek , reassuring him that it would Never happen, and even if it did he shouldn't blame himself.

The two of you stood there together , enjoying eachothers company until you heard some footsteps. You got off eachother and stood on sperate sides of the hallway. Greeting when the docted had walked passed you two.

"Im- I'm gonna go..I'll talk to you yah?"

"Mhm..yeah sure."

You both left , a sense of happiness washed apon you two, the fact you got to see eachother once again. You got into your car and celebrated for a brief moment , taking in a deep breath and playing 'Floods by Lucky Daye' on your way back home.

You rushed into the apartment home , locking your door and flopping onto the sofa. You guys were dating but you were exactly sure on why you felt this way , constantly blushy atjust the idea of him.

You always feel this way whenever your around him , ever since you guys began dating in school. You've kept your relationship secret since you knew alot of people would Die to be in your place, and also the fact he lived a dangerous life(In his words)

"You gonna get up or keep sleeping on the freshly cleaned couch cushions?"

Your roommate peeped out from the kitchen , making yalls dinner.

"Ye sorry!"

You said sarcastically, getting up and heading over to your room until your phone dinged with a notification

S.😍

-> you home yet?

You.

-> jup , wbu?"

S.😍

->yeah , js got home..js makin sure ur home safe

You began cheering hard , rolling around on your bed and trying not to throw it across the room.

You.

-> well I'm home safe...ttyl?

S.😍

->bet.

You switched off your phone , sighing dreamily at how he would always check up on you. Making sure your safe and well fed.

You decided to get dressed into more comfortable clothes, enjoying thr rest of your night with your man lingering in the back of your mind.