#also I have a full time job now! I love it but I can’t draw as much :C

[bunniehunn]

Yuubeni Chōga

Finally, Yuubeni’s character intro! She’s my yuusona/partial self insert(ish?) Tumblr destroyed the resolution click for a clearer view 😭😭 Me yapping A LOT about her under the cut!

Appearance:

Yuubeni is a young woman with light, freckled olive toned skin and dark brown, almost black eyes. Barely below average at 5’3, with a small build and curves. Still has some baby fat around the stomach area. She has short, curly dark brown hair, usually down. Her fashion fluctuates between the extremes of pink and feminine to looking like she just hopped out of a Dick’s Sporting Goods.

Personality:

Yuubeni is an introverted girl, who always likes to help her friends. She struggles a lot in multiple aspects of her life, like taking care of herself or school work, but she always seems to have energy to assist someone in need. She has adhd and anxiety, and she’s a little sensitive to negative attitudes towards her. She’s a bit naive and gullible, which gets her and her friends into less than desirable situations constantly. She’s also a bit self-conscious socially, and she tries to avoid talking much about herself or her interests in fear of embarrassing herself. If you do get her to talk about something she’s passionate about, though, she switches up to probably one of the highest energy people you’ve ever met. Of course, she’ll probably be thinking about that moment for days, scared you found her weird. She waters down her personality, and won’t let too many people get close. It’s easier for her to befriend extroverts so she doesn’t have to speak, or those who some might say are a little out of the norm.

Backstory:

Yuubeni was born into a very normal family. Her family moved around constantly due to her father’s job, and they never stayed quite in one place for too long. The most recent place they moved was the one they’d stayed for the longest, and Yuubeni really started to feel like she fit in. Of course, she can’t have anything nice, can she? Just as she finally felt comfortable, another move was announced. Distraught, she ‘took a walk’ in the middle of the night. During her ‘walk’, was the moment the sound of horse hooves clopping against pavement were heard, and moments later she blacked out. Waking up in a floating coffin was, obviously, VERY anxiety-inducing for her.

Now at NRC, she’s having trouble juggling her school work, duties, friends, and the constant overblots.

A relationship chart + some extra blurbs.

Random Tidbits!:

Started an art club at school! (Mostly so she can have school-sanctioned art time. Doesn’t expect anybody else to join.)

Gamer! Will get Ortho to convince (force) Idia to play with her. It’s a source of comfort for her.

Sings and acts, likes to do theatre but gets really bad stage fright. Like, straight up full-body shaking.

Her favorite flower is a hydrangea! Her brooch on her striped bow is based off a hydrangea petal.

Loves to do her nails in funky designs.

REALLY easy to scare. Do not scare her, she WILL cry.

Her main symbol/motif is a butterfly!

★彡

GAAAAH I FINALLY MADE IT!!! I’m really proud of her drawing, it’s only my third time attempting to mimick twst style and I think I did good. Sorry this is so long 😭

Tagging! @gimmeurmoneyagh @babyghoul138 @jadenui @taruruchi

@amai-sakura-chan @day-dr3aming @buttholesparkles @mirioho @cheerleaderman

@theolivetree123 @h0neybane @angelwishess @fell-e @tsubomisno1fan

@screamintoad @crystallizsch @skibidibabygirl @moonyasnow @beneathsakurashade

@boopshoops @the-rini-rush

[dingledraw]

I’ve been reading about the hygiene of Louis XIV and the court of Versailles and… uhh...🤢 (I’ve later learned that most of it is a myth tho 👀)

[luveline]

For KBD asks. Maybe pregnant! Reader and Steve are able to have a little babymoon with just the two of them and he’s just super sweet and lovey dovey with reader 😊😊 love your writing!!

KBD —you and Steve spend some rare time alone. mom!reader

You thought going on vacation three weeks before your due date was one, misguided, and two, more pain than it was worth, but Steve insisted it would be relaxing and you’d figured why not. He deserves a vacation. 

You wished you’d done this for every baby, now. 

“What a beautifully huge bump.” 

You don’t feel beautiful, huge is allowed. “Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

You and Steve lay lakeside, just a couple hours from home. He passes you a glass wet with condensation, a drink you’re sharing, your turn to sip at the slushy insides. 

“It really is ginormous,” you say after a sip. It’s not horrifying or alien or anything people love to say of big baby bumps, but it is heavy. Perhaps not as beautiful as you wish, but doing a good job. You hold your stomach. In half a moment, the baby stirs. 

“Any further along for names?”

With three girls at home and a fourth drawing near, you’ve not thought about it much. There are other urgent matters to attend to, dance classes, crayons, a new bassinet, a new rocker, a new everything that Steve had to build. You’ve been trying to make sure everybody in the family is happy, including Steve, which hasn’t left much time just for you. 

The babymoon was a great idea. Steve is a genius, ten times as thoughtful as he thinks he is.

“Not one,” you say. 

“Well, you’ll think of something.” 

“Can you come and kiss me?” You turn your face to point at the soft skin under your jaw. “Right here?” 

Steve lays like a dead body in his chair. Boneless, he turns his head away from you, then slowly back. “Oh, sorry, are you talking to me? You wouldn’t really make your gorgeous husband get up again when he’s only just laid down, right?” 

“As opposed to what, gorgeous husband?” you ask mildly. “You want me to get up?” 

You’re lucky you can still move. Bump is huge and hurting. Every step you take hurts both your ankles and your spine. 

Steve sighs like he’s in pain, but he gets up. He crosses the step to your lounger, and kneels down beside it. “Where did you want it?” he asks, his breaths throwing goosebumps down your arms. 

“Wherever you wanna put it.” 

“I could kiss all over you,” he says, bringing his turned hand to your cheek, flat of his nail caressing your cheek. “Don’t tempt me.” 

He moves his hand to the other cheek, furthest from him, and holds your face, giving you a firm squeeze. It’s not intimidating, the opposite, like a silent I got you as he turns your face away and leans in. 

“Here?” he asks against the place you’d pointed. 

You laugh, taking a fistful of his soft hair. “Stop, you’re tickling me.” 

“You asked for this.” 

“I asked for a kiss.” 

“Right.” He kisses you in the place you’d pointed originally. 

“This is really nice.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Not just the kiss. This vacation.” You brush your fingers through his hair. 

“I wish we’d known about it before. I love our girls, but…” 

But this is the first time you and Steve have been alone together for a long, long time, the first time you’ve ever been completely alone with your new baby. You can’t forget how much you love Steve, but it’s a great reassurance to be here and remember that you’re good together. You’re a family unit, but you’re also just Y/N and Steve. 

“I miss spending time with you,” Steve says. “I know this is the worst time to say it, but we need to spend more time together, just you and me.” 

You turn into his hand. “No, I get it,” you whisper.

It doesn’t need to be said how much you love your kids, isn’t that what you’re thinking day in and day out? You love them, you take care of them, it’s a full time job. And yet this time without them feels rare and priceless at once. It’s not a great time to realise it when you’re about to have a newborn and absolutely no free time, but it’s okay. You can make it work. 

Steve wraps his arms around you, forcing you forward to embrace you tightly. You're quick to hug back. 

“I’ll never get over you,” he says. 

“‘Magine we never met.” 

“I don’t want to.” 

“I can’t think about it without you… doesn’t make any sense.” 

“It doesn’t make sense, we’re the only right way.” He smiles into your cheek. 

“I really can’t picture my life without you.” 

Steve draws back. He can’t look at you with any more softness than he does then, even as his lips turn into a smirky grin. “You don’t need to. And let’s not! It’s exhausting, I just wanna lay in the sun with you, listen to the sound of the lake.” 

“Are your knees hurting?” 

You’ve just remembered he’s kneeling in shorts on the wooden dock. Steve laughs. “Who cares about my knees? Come on, I’m having another kiss.” 

“Says who?” you ask. 

He tips your chin up. 

[purpledisastertwin900]

For all of the “Raph raised himself AND his brothers” fans out there I bring this train wreck of a thought (I’m a lil sleepy so sorry if it doesn’t make sense or if I repeat myself a lot-)

We do not in fact have any actual evidence that splinter was neglectful to the boys when they were little. In fact, we have the opposite.

All of these flashbacks indicate that Splinter acc spent a LOT of time with his boys-

With Mikey, he was obviously coached in his art, a smol child can’t paint like that no matter how talented they are so we can see that splinter put in the time/effort to get Mikey the supplies and teach him how to do it well. Which probably means he researched and learned it himself first, idk I just can’t really see Yoshi knowing how to paint/draw that well but that’s just a theory.

With raph and Leo, their lemonade stand is structurally sound: obviously not put together by an 8 year old, and there’s a lotta lemons lyin around that were probably a bit difficult to find, and just LOOK at their faces here they are definitely familiar with this kind of father/son shenaniganizing-also just LOOK at raph. That’s a happy child, one full of excitement and happiness, not a kid who had to grow up too fast. Also his dad is literally right there in the picture

And then with Donnie, I can’t really tell what he’s doing in the background (it’s a bomb) but what i take from that screenshot is that Donnie feels safe/loved enough to come to Splinter when he gets hurt. And Splinters taking care of him!! And, Donnie is wearing clothes, which shows that he went out and got clothes for them but also didn’t force the boys to wear them if they didn’t want to (see other screenshots lol) which also goes to show that he lets his boys choose who they wanna be and what they wanna do. At any point he could’ve forced all of them to train as ninja, at any point he could’ve made clothes mandatory, and at any point he could’ve forced them to drop things that made them happy like skating or science or art but nah. He was supportive every step of the way.

Now am I saying he was perfect? No. Am I saying he couldn’t have done anything better? No. What I’m saying is that Raph acc did not have to raise himself and his brothers. Splinter acc gave them a pretty good childhood, all things considered and it kinda makes me sad when ppl bash Rise Splinter or continue the neglectful parent trope. Again, I’m not saying he did everything right, he def could have spent more time with his kids on an individual basis and he should’ve been more present, but let’s cut him some slack bc he did a really good job at raising the boys. And he got so much better as the show progressed! But that’s another post lol. I’m also not trying to take away Raphs oldest sibling syndrome, he still def has that from being the leader and watching his bros while splinter was away-I’m just saying he didn’t have to do it ALL alone.

Look in the end he’s doing his best and his best was really good for what they had. He’s a good dad, he’s not neglectful.

[bluberryfields]

"David is very easy to fall in love with." - Michael Sheen

Hi. How are you? Good, I hope. Okay, so can we talk about just how fucking beautiful David Tennant is? And by “we” I mean “I” and by “talk” I mean “babble incoherently into the void”? Great! I’ll attempt to impose a bit of organization on this just to satisfy my pathological need to inflict structure on words (thanks college/job/brain), but I can’t promise much. Also, there will be A LOT of pictures and gifs. (you’re welcome?)

And this isn’t just because I am deep in the bottomless well of Good Omens fandom and that Crowley is basically the most breathtaking creature that has ever existed. Well, not just because of that.

*cue Aziraphale's "good lord" from 1793*

ANYWAY, like a lot of people, I became a fan of (i.e., fell deeply and irrevocably in love with) DT during his run as the 10th Doctor. He was young and bright and full of just about everything – joy, sorrow, wit – making him incredibly watchable. His look was also so charming: big bouncy rooster comb of hair, absurdly cheeky smile, expressive-as-fuck eyes and eyebrows, and a tall, lanky form that seemed to be made of rubber and the kind of granulated sugar that could only be found in candy from the 90s that are now banned in all first- and second-world countries.

So yeah, I was super into him and his Doctor’s adventures. And I continued to watch him in other projects and still swoon (looking at you, slutty Hamlet)

even at characters where that was not the desired reaction (fuck you, Kilgrave, you delicious monster).

I would also always become a bit (a lot) weak in the knees at his voice regardless of which accent he took on, though always preferring him doing any Scottish brogue because of fucking course.

Roll that tongue, you sexy beast.

But what I want to get into today is just how incredible he looks in the year of 2023.

He’s 52 years old and I am somehow even more attracted to him. Maybe it’s because I am myself older, and my tastes have matured alongside? I certainly do enjoy gray hair way more than I did 10 years ago.

He’s aged incredibly well, probably a combination of good genes and good health, and he’s clearly not clinging to the Hollywood idea of “youth”.

(insert obligatory grumble about the double standards of men being praised for aging and women being demonized…the potentially problematic nature of the term “aging well” in general…acknowledge this with my enlightened brain but ignore this with my slutty heart…fuck the patriarchy, etc. etc.)

He’s still tall and skinny, even gangly at times, all long arms and legs that can move in impossible directions with unfathomable grace.

His face is leaner, that incredible bone structure creating sharper edges that draw the eye. Speaking of the face, he’s got these creases on his forehead and at the corners of his eyes and mouth that are evidence of time spent well: smiling, laughing, living. Makes you want to trace your fingertips along each one.

Oh god that smile? Good lord. It’s weapons grade charm that can also be quite intimidating. Sweet, humble, silly, scary…full spectrum of options here! His shark smile is the definition of “irresistible” in my Dictionary of Delicious Dudes.

I am both proud of and grossed out by my own word choice.

Continuing with that face...the hawkish nose, the dimples you want to drown in, the big eyes, those motherfucking eyebrows...

I could seriously write a whole essay about those eyebrows, but I already give my therapist enough to worry about.

Oh those eyes. “Piercing” is a term usually reserved for blue eyes, but I would argue it applies to DT’s bottomless chocolate pools in that they slice through my heart every damn time.

Honorable mention does go to those Crowley snake eyes because they could have been distracting and diminishing to his overall look, but they absolutely are not.

Such a pretty shade of yellow.

Random tangent to swoon about his hands. For whatever reason, I like checking out a man’s hands, and DT’s got a set that drives me wild. I can’t even really explain why, but I just really like the way he articulates with them. Crowley is a perfect example, what with the miracle snaps, caressing globes, and holding whisky glasses. Yum.

Delicious demon digits

Fresh tangent: How does this fucker look good clean shaven, with stubble, and a goddamn beard? How is that allowed?

He's got a face that makes me wanna take up sculpting

Further, how is his fucking neck so hot? Like, seriously, show me the math. I can’t stop staring at it. And when it’s cloaked in a turtleneck? Please, sir, may I have some more?

Fuuuuuuuck

With no segue whatsoever, I am absolutely obsessed with his hair, across all contexts. Big, bold, blood-red Crowley coifs (especially in Season 2)? Check.

Proper gentleman side part? Check.

Side shave with cartoonishy springy 14th Doctor shock? Check.

Lockdown locks with and without headband? Check!

It’s a goddamn buffet of delicious options.

Oh damn speaking of that 14th Doctor look? Good fucking Christ on a buttery Ritz cracker. The whole DT collection is on display: the hair, the eyes, the bone structure, the smile, the clothes, and even the glasses!

To quote Pam on Archer, “I swear to god, you could drown a toddler in my panties right now! I mean, not that you would.”

Now that you (I) mention the clothes, I never cease to marvel at how he can wear pretty much anything and look amazing. Stripes, patterns, wild colors, etc. He just always looks…not exactly comfortable, but sort of at ease like the clothes were created with him in mind. And this goes across the spectrum of Casual to Costume to Promotional (e.g., interviews and premieres).

They are almost illegally cute together

We all know by now how ridiculously tight those Crowley pants are and how it influenced his signature serpentine swagger (thank you, Costume department, you’re the real heroes). That said, he and those slinky hips still looks so incredibly natural in them like they came from his actual closet.

Stupid sexy snek

And he pulls off the look of more ridiculous stuff like full Shakespearean costumes or that sad gray-hoodie-black-shorts-and-Wellington-boots combo from the first season of Staged. He somehow gives off the air of “whatever, they’re just clothes, man” while also looking like a damn model.

Georgia is a very lucky woman

Final thoughts: I know DT dislikes talking about how people think he’s so attractive because I’m sure it feels a bit icky if you just want to live your life and do your job. But my guy also clearly understands that he’s not some ghoul who has succeeded on incredible personality and acting chops alone. So, that said, maybe he'll forgive me for posting such a long, rambling, ode to him?

[alittlebitofloveliness]

any soda headcanons?

Hi! I hope these suffice, I couldn't help but throw a little bit of Stevepop in :)

Sodapop Curtis Headcanons

-The Curtis house has a half finished basement which is where the laundry machine is, but the ceiling is FULL of spiders and spiderwebs. Both Darry and Pony are PETRIFIED of spiders, like Ponyboy is jumping from foot to foot and hyperventilating and Darry SHRIEKS when he sees one, so its always Soda’s job to de-spider the basement and he absolutely hates it (he's a little scared of them too, but not nearly as bad as his brothers)

-He has the friendship equivalent of those ‘you cheated on me in my dreams and now I’m mad at you”. One time he dreamed Steve left him stranded at the Dingo and was lowkey pissed at him the next day. Poor Steve was SO confused

-Loves both peanut butter and chocolate by themselves, but HATES when they’re combined together. Bro HATES reeses cups with a passion

-After the Curtis parents died he snuck into their room, stole his mother's half full perfume bottle and hid it in his bedside table. Sometimes before he goes to bed, when Ponyboy is busy brushing his teeth, he’ll spritz a little on his wrist because when he closes his eyes and smells her perfume he can pretend his mom is hugging him again.

-Thinks bananas are spicy (they’re not, he’s just mildly allergic but doesn’t realise it. Everyone in the gang thinks he’s making a joke every time he says it. He isn’t.)

-Him and Steve swing dance together at work sometimes when they’re working alone in the garage and his stomach flutters every time Steve dips him 

-Cannot sing to save his life and does it all the time anyway. Like, he sounds like he’s gargling with rocks, it’s actually painful. Dally has literally paid him to shut up before.

-Steve’s pet cat absolutely HATES him and Soda will always and forever be mad about it because “what did I ever do to her???”

-Can’t remember what his dad’s voice sounded like anymore. It haunts him.

-The easiest way to piss him off is to disrespect Steve in front of him. Sodapop is convinced the sun shines from his grumpy best friend’s glaring eyes, and if anyone doesn’t see that he WILL throw hands, no questions asked

-The Curtis’ have a chore jar full of little slips of paper with the really unpleasant chores they only have to do once in a while written on. Every three months they each draw two each so that way it’s fair who does what. EVERY single time Soda ends up having to clean behind the stove and he’s forever bitter about it because “it looks like a crime scene back there Dar and I know it ain’t just my fault!”

-He and Steve gave each other stick and poke tattoos once but his got SUPER infected. He would’ve had to tell Darry and probably go to the hospital if it weren’t for Evie, who luckily had some training from her tribe’s medicine woman and managed to fix him up.

-Him and Darry do rock paper scissors to decide who has to tell Ponyboy when he has a doctors appointment because Pony always gets SO mad and neither of them wanna deal with him

-Once walked in on Two-bit in an, ahem, compromising position, and hasn’t been the same since

-He used to socially drink pretty often but stopped when he realised how much drunk him really wanted to kiss Steve on the mouth

-Started drinking socially again when sober him kissed Steve on the mouth and the world didn’t end

-He draws faces on the eggs in the fridge, partially because he just finds it fun, but also because it always gets Darry to smile and shake his head fondly, and there isn’t enough that makes Darry smile these days

-Darry made him promise when he first started work full-time that he’d keep half his pay check for himself. He promised, but only ever keeps about 10% of what he makes as spending money. He’s determined to make sure neither Darry nor Ponyboy ever find out

-Wishes he was a bit more like either of his brothers, because even though he loves them more than anything, they have more in common with each other than they willl ever have with him and sometimes he feels like the odd man out in his own family, especially now his mom and dad are gone

-Had asthma as a kid but he grew out of it by the time he turned 10

[wjehfshs]

Keegan and Logan relationship HCs both fluffy and smutty bc I’m on a kick for them rn (seperate)

This is gonna contain NSFW, also don’t ask me why I put hello kitty as the GIF I just felt like it

Keegan

Sfw:

I think everyone can agree this man’s cuddly

I saw someone hc (I can’t remember who) that he bites affectionately

Like will just bite your shoulder or smth

Also he rides a motorcycle (he’s better at driving it than a car, thankfully), and he loves to take you on rides at night for a date

First getting with him you probably had to confess, look he’s not insecure or anxious it’s just that he didn’t pick up on you liking him as well

Kinda just stood there after you asked him out like “😦”

“Kid stop messin’ with me it’s not funny”

“I’m not messing with you Keegan”

“Oh… Oh!” Got all excited internally but tried to keep that stoic demeanour

First time cuddling with him (which was probably right after you confessed) he lay on top of you, putting his full weight on you (if safe to do so ofc), and basically just melted, almost fell asleep if you didn’t have to get up to use the bathroom

Anytime before he has to go on a mission he’s extra cuddly, basically glued to you

And if you work day or night he’s devastated

Part of him wants to convince you to quit your job so he can have you all to himself when he’s home and he also makes very good money, but if you genuinely like your job/career. He’s supporting you 110% and won’t say anything

Will have you on his lap as he plays games or watches TV with you

If you also play games even better, sometimes he lets you win just to see you happy

But if you naturally beat him at a game where we didn’t let you win he’s all pouty and shit

Still can’t help but let his heart skip a beat when he sees you all excited, even if you’re rubbing your win in his face

If you have a cat, the cat and him are standoffish at first, kinda fighting for your attention but now they can’t be separated

Spends like a good 2 hours saying good bye to the cat before he is deployed

Falls asleep with it on his chest

If you have a dog he’s all over it immediately, treats it like it’s his childhood dog or smth

You catch him cuddling with the dog while watching TV, sometimes even falls asleep while watching and the dog just sits there with a smile on its face

Probably prefers big dogs but doesn’t mind either way

After he gets home from a mission no matter how long he was away, he’s hugging you, kissing you, and lifting you up in his arms in the middle of the airport like you haven’t seen each other in 5 years, doesn’t care if people are staring at all

If you get embarrassed he may tone it down a bit but he just can’t help himself

If you two get married/have a traditional wedding, he’s so impatient, just wants to kiss you

When he’s told he can he just wraps you in a bear hug and kisses you, he’s just so happy that he gets to be with you

If you don’t want to get married/don’t want a traditional wedding he’s also totally fine with that

Doesn’t care if you’re married or not, doesn’t care if the wedding is traditional or not he’s just so happy to be with you

Nsfw:

You two don’t make out for very long when you do because he’s also impatient in that area, can’t control himself sometimes he gets so worked up

He’s into some very kinky stuff (only with consent and very long talks from you two)

He also likes biting in the bedroom, if you aren’t ok with it he won’t draw blood or hurt you two bad but if you give him the ok, or even better want it, he’s having a field day

When he’s away he lives for phone sex with you

When domming he’s rough (unless you ask him not too or you’re more vanilla), but if either of you are having a bad day or smth he’s soft and very vanilla

When he’s having a bad day tho he prefers to sub, I think he’s pretty quiet when subbing, not for any particular reason, just is

Covers his mouth when subbing because even when being dommed he loves to hear you moan

Not above being pegged/anal

I’ve mentioned this in a couple of past posts but I fully believe that Keegan is a tit man

Doesn’t matter if they’re big, small, uneven, different sizes, covered in stretch marks, have hair, fake, or on a man HE. LOVES. TITS.

Will bury his head in them when cuddling and Will also occasionally cover them in hickeys

Also loves cumming all over them

If you don’t say otherwise, he’s all over them. You cannot detach this man from your boobs

If you’re insecure about them his mouth is not leaving them until you feel better

He would never admit this but he loves when you make him cum all over his clothes/in his pants

If you’re ok with it, he’ll do stuff like choking, spitting, specifically in your mouth/on your tongue, and the occasional ass slap (but remember consent is key guys)

He LOVES to eat you out, female genitalia or male genitalia he doesn’t care

Eye contact>>>

A bit of a dirty secret of his but he loves when you look away so he can hold your face and force you to look at him

Dirty talk dirty talk dirty talkkkkk

Oral fixation

Logan

Sfw:

He’s a bit of an anxious lover

Also less experienced than Keegan

He’s not clueless but you may have to guide him on some stuff

Very protective of you

Unlike Keegan, he can actually be trusted behind the wheel of a car

He prefers to show his love through acts of service

That’s not to say he doesn’t love any kind of affection giving or receiving

But there’s just something about being able to cook you breakfast while you’re asleep, taking care of you while you’re sick, and helping you pick out an outfit

Although I do have to admit he does also enjoy being taken care of

But he prefers to take care of you than be taken care of

Please cuddle this man likes he’s the most precious thing ever made, he needs it

He’s too embarrassed to admit it but he loved when you whisper and coo at him

And if you cuddle him while playing with his hair, this man is out COLD

But equally he loves when you fall asleep on top of him

I believe since he’s the youngest of the Walker family, he probably feels insecure about his strength so if you fall asleep wrapped in his arms it’ll make him feel big and strong

Cold days where you can cuddle with him>>>

His kisses are soft and calm

He was the one to confess, well kinda

Hesh did it for him

Hesh just kinda strolled up to you casually one day with Logan silently standing behind him

“Hey [name]! How are you? Cool cool. Anyways just letting you know Logan’s in love with you… bye!” And then he walks off leaving you and Logan alone

And it just went from there

Hesh wasn’t stupid, he knew you both liked each other but Logan wasn’t convinced

The only reason he let Hesh confess to you for him was because Hesh promised to treat him to a “sorry dinner” if he was wrong and you didn’t feel the same

Luckily Hesh was right

While Keegan is a biter, Logan is more of a licker

He won’t just randomly lick you like Keegan but he’ll probably kiss you somewhere and leave a little lick for shits and giggles

I do believe he’s selectively mute

So most of the time he doesn’t talk at all but I’m rare occasions he’ll whisper something to you and only you

Probably something like “baby I’m tired… can we go home?”

Or “I love you so so much”

It’s like a special treat just for you

He tries to take as many photos of you and the both of you together, prints it out, and takes the little photo with him on missions

Nsfw:

Prefers to soft dom

But either way he will absolutely destroy your insides as he kisses all up and down your torso

If he’s subbing, please crush this man’s head in between your thighs

Doesn’t matter if they’re thick, thin, fatty, muscly, whatever please just crush him

He wants to suffocate between them

He would happily die in between your legs

Also gets whiny when subbing

Jerk this man off while he whines and begs, bucking his hips up into your hands

Not really as kinky as Keegan but loves being rough or you being rough on him

Doesn’t matter if you have a dick yourself or use a strap on, he wants to deep throat it

Will bend you in half when fucking you

Especially when he’s close

If he’s feeling mean one day he will manhandle you

Flipping you from position to position on the bed, basically throwing you around like a rag doll

Sometimes he’ll wear his mask while you two will do it

Aftercare with him is top tier tho, kisses, maybe a bath or shower, food if you’re hungry, water, maybe even a hot chocolate

As I said earlier he loves to take care of you

Prefers things clean but does like cumming on your face

[erexart]

Language barrier

Pairing: Rengoku x gn! y/n

Context: fluff, modern au, Kyojuro is bilingual

A/n: Hello, this is my first time writing something so I hope you’ll like it <3

Thank you @meowzfordayz @neiptune for being the first readers. I’m also tagging @thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch because the 3 of you are my biggest inspo and why I wrote this🌸

———————————————————————————————————

Kyojuro yawned and rubbed his eyes. The book he was holding on to threatened to fall from his hands as he realised it was getting late. The clock showed that it was almost midnight, and he took it as his cue to finally go to sleep. As he was about to turn off the lights, he noticed the figure in bed beside him suddenly stir, and he couldn’t help but crack a smile.

He looked over, but much to his surprise the love of his life was not asleep yet. He quirked a brow in amusement.

You laid silently with one hand on your stomach and the other hovering in the air. Your eyes were closed, but your index finger was moving, slicing into nothing. It looked as if you were drawing something as your finger stroked the air, or perhaps conducting an orchestra. You stopped mid-stroke and muttered under your breath, a curse perhaps. Kyojuro only watched for a solid minute before he shifted and laid closer to you.

“My love? What are you doing? I thought you were asleep.”

“Something bothered me, and I can’t seem to get a grasp on it.”

“Oh?” He kept quiet, urging you to continue as he watched your index finger move up and down in one swift motion. Judging from your tone of voice, you hadn’t been asleep at all.

Your head turned towards him, eyes fluttering open to meet a pair of his bright coloured irises. “I can’t seem to memorise the ‘ha’ column.”

Kyojuro’s smile widened, and his heart feels full. You had been trying to learn his native language for a week now. Although he had told you he did not mind the fact that you don’t speak Japanese, your insistence on learning his mother tongue made his heart soar.

You practiced with him every day, memorising the stroke orders of most common kanji characters and tried to have small conversations with him. He is a wonderful teacher. Despite your lack of knowledge and poor memorisation skills, he was patient and loving and kind through it all. Tonight, when you tried to recap your lessons for today, a column of hiragana characters became scrambled. It had nagged on you and kept you awake.

“Well, that should be easy enough!” His volume rose a bit in excitement. Moving his hand, he interlocked it with yours, the back of your hand facing the both of you.

With the other free hand, his index finger stroked the back of your hand gently.

It formed the character “ は“

“How do you pronounce that?” He questioned, smiling at you.

“ ‘Ha-‘ right?”

“Correct!”

He scribbled on your hand again. This time forming the character “へ“

“he”

“Good job!”

His touch was gentle and comforting, making your eyes droop from relaxation. You decide to close them and let your sense of touch guide you.

This time his scribbling formed the character “ふ”

“fu?” You answered much quieter

“Yes, great job my love.” His volume dropped, sensing the tiredness in your pitch. “What about this?” He wrote down the character “れ“

Your brows furrowed and your eyes opened half-lidded at him.

“That’s not in the ‘ha’ column.”

He chuckled, happy that you remembered what he taught you. “But do you know what it is?”

“It’s ‘re’ like the start of your family name.” You heard a prideful gasp came out of him.

“Wonderful, that’s amazing you remembered.” You could feel him squeezing your hand a bit, warm and gentle, making you feel sleepy once again. You feel like drifting off but kept yourself awake enough as he wrote down the next one. You bit your lip. You know it’s in the ‘ha’ column but you don’t know how it sounded.

“Can you do that again?”

“Of course.”

His index finger traced the back of your hand again, this time much slower and gentler, as If he’s trying to coax you back into relaxing.

“I don’t…know that one.”

“That one is pronounced ho”

“…right..”

The character “ほ” popped up in your mind, and you kept quiet trying to combat the drowsiness and memorise the stroke order you felt.

He went silent for a while. His lack of commentary stirred you awake.

“Kyojuro?”

“Ahh..I thought you went to sleep?” You laughed. “No, not yet, but you writing on my hand is making me sleepy.” He only responded with a thoughtful “hmm”

“Alright, let’s test your kanji.” You sighed, not prepared for the sudden quiz.

“Oh no…I’m going to suck at this.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll use the ones you’ve been learning so far.”

“Alright then...”

His finger moved in skilful motions, stroking right, down, right, right, with precision. He was going slow so you could catch up and make sense of the stroke order. It was difficult but with some concentration you made out that he had written the kanji “描く“ on the back of your hand.

“Ega- ku, -to paint something.”

“Yoku dekita!”

You laughed at his response.

He scribbled another kanji down, and you immediately recognised it because you’ve been practising on how to write it almost every day.

“Well now you’re just trying to write your own name.” You quipped, with a small smirk.

“I’m not even done yet, and I am both impressed and flattered you remembered!” You chuckled lightly at him, and it sounded like music to his ears.

His name was not that complicated, but he continued anyway, caressing your skin gently just to reinforce your brain into remembering the stroke order. He went slowly, his touch causing you to drift off more and more with every stroke. By the time he had finished the “郎” from ” 杏寿郎” you had already gone to sleep.

Seeing that you were finally dead to the world, he pulled on your hand and kissed it gently. Your silent reply was all he needed to confirm that his mission was successful. Pulling back, he decided to write down one final kanji before retiring for the night. He wrote more of a sentence really, and his eyes widened in excitement when he realised he hadn’t taught you this yet.

“ずっと大好きだよ。”

Smiling, he turned off the lights, wrapped his arms around you and went to sleep.

[samcarpentersgirlfriend]

Can you write some fluffy amber headcannons

|| AMBER FREEMAN X READER HEADCANONS 𖤐₊˚.

warnings: brief mentions of possessiveness, reader wears makeup, kissing, drinking

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

- loves horror movies, obviously. her perfect idea of a date night is watching one of her favourites cuddled up with you on the couch

- gets super excited and will info dump facts or details regarding them whilst she lays with her head in your lap as you play with her hair - you can’t help but love how passionate she gets

- speaking of movies, her comfort movie is something completely cheesy, like high school musical or some bad mid 2000s rom com. she tries to play it off and calls it stupid, but you don’t miss the way her eyes brighten at every joke and the way she almost subconsciously mouths the words as they’re said on screen

- also likes to draw. sometimes you’ll glance over to her and she’ll be sketching a little book, her features etched with concentration as she tries to get the little details right

- she’s definitely drawn you a fair few times, although you had to peek when she wasn’t looking because she wouldn’t outright show you

- she’s one of those people that seems to be good at everything - it’s infuriating and incredibly attractive all at once

- amber feels as if she has to protect you, so if anybody tries to flirt with you and makes you uncomfortable, she’ll come up and be all over you and tell them - not so nicely - that you were very much taken, thanks

- on a related note, she’s definitely into pda, whether it’s handholding, kissing, or anything else. you’re her partner, and the more people then know that, the better

- definitely pushed you against a wall before and kissed you

- if the two of you are out and you’re drinking, amber makes sure to stay purposefully sober enough so that she can make sure that you’re okay and not too bad. if you do anything stupid whilst drunk she’ll tease the hell out of you, but nobody else is allowed to make you feel even remotely bad about your actions

- tells you that she loves you very often. it doesn’t matter if you’re walking down a crowded street or if it’s just the two of you together, she needs you to know how much you mean to her

- she loves doing your makeup, and you love feeling pampered and seeing her happy - it’s a total win - win situation <3

- strangely great at comforting you when you’re sad. she has your favourite food on standby, your favourite tv show cued up and is ready to listen as you vent. she knows when you need space though, and won’t overstay if she can tell that you need to be on your own

- is very good at reading people, especially you. she can look at you once and practically know what you’re thinking about - it’s honestly kind of scary and hot??

- amber likes to feel like she’s in charge. if cuddling, she likes to be the big spoon, but even apart from that, it’s the little things like you laying on her chest or even her initiating kisses with you. it’s not only with you though, you realise that even with her friends, she seems to gravitate to a leader role - it’s like she can’t help herself

- compliments you constantly. you’re trying on a new outfit? “look at you, you’re breathtaking, baby. I’m so lucky to have you.” you get a new job? “yes, I’m so proud of you! I knew you’d do it - you’re so fucking amazing.”

- never forgets anything. from your favourite artist or the name of the pet you had as a kid, amber remembers it all. she’s so captivated when you speak, so why wouldn’t she?

- drinks so much coffee. it started as a way to help keep her awake so she could cram, but now she practically starts shaking if she hadn’t had at least two cups by 10am. you feel as if you should stage an intervention.

- likes pet names - baby + princess (if you’re fem) are her faves. amber is one of those people that if they call you by your full first name, you know that you’re in trouble - with amber, it’s definitely either a pet name or a nickname

- a morning person?? idk I can see her as both but I think she would just prefer the morning - waking up earlier helps her feel more productive and she can get things done- by the time you wake up, she’s already making breakfast for the two of you and humming along to the radio

- if you come home hurt somehow, amber goes into full nurse mode. she’ll help patch you up and sit with you as she ask what happened and if she finds out somebody hurt you, you’re the one that has to calm her down

- the two of you just work and balance each other out

- after you’ve been together for a while, amber starts planning your future for the two of you. she wants to move in together when your ready, and is already planning on asking you how you feel about a pet dog

- because she loves animals - you can’t help but find it adorable how she melts around them.

- if you’re with her when she’s ghostface, she genuinely tries her hardest to keep you out of it. she still wants to stick to the plan, but there’s no reason to get you involved and for you to get hurt, and she’s determined to get away with it and live happily ever after with you - you’ll watch the new and improved stab movie together

[bullet-prooflove]

Underneath The Stars - Bottles x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @librarian1002 @thanossexual @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @adaydreamaway08 @wnbweasley @skyesthebomb

Companion piece to:

Inevitable - Bottles finds a letter on your kitchen table.

Prequel to:

Forward - You discuss your decision to stay in Santo Padre.

Tonight, Bottles takes you for a ride out to the desert, it’s something you’ve done a couple of times before because you love the tranquillity of the area, the spirituality. The two of you make a fire, you try to do it using the tricks you learned in Girl Guides before Bottles takes pity on you and uses his lighter to ignite the wood. He spreads his bedroll out in front of the fire while you toast marshmallows, waiting for them to crisp before popping them into your mouth.

You taste like burnt sugar when he kisses you under the stars. Your lips are sweet and sticky, and he smiles into your mouth because he likes you like this. Wild and free spirited.

He makes love to you in front of the fire. The glow from the flames illuminates your skin as he lays underneath you, his hands chasing up your waist holding you in place as he rolls his hips.

Already the pleasure is too much, the ecstasy chases through your veins as his cock rakes over that deviant little place inside of you. There’s a thrill in being out here like this but there’s also a serenity, a peacefulness that you never would have expected because you’re not just connected to him in this moment, you’re connected to nature, the universe.

It’s one of the reasons that Santo Padre is so special to you. However now you’ve had this job offer from the Robinhood Foundation in New York…

Your career had started there, event planning for Manhattan’s elite. Baby showers costing in excess of hundreds of thousands of dollars, charity events that were thousands of dollars per plate, kids parties held in museums that had budgets to revamp them into literal princess castles. You were excellent in your role, you’d made some big money but then you’d met Ben at a baby shower, and everything had changed.

“Don’t you think it’s excessive?” He’d asked you as you chaperoned a birthday party for a one-year-old which cost over two hundred thousand dollars.

“What I think is irrelevant.” You’d told him, ticking a checkbox on your clipboard.

“If you ever want to change that.” He tells you, handing you, his card. “Give me a call, the charity I work for is looking for a fundraising director. I think you’re wasted here.”

He hadn’t been wrong; you’d followed him all the way here to Santo Padre. The work you did at the community centre was some of the most meaningful you had ever undertaken. You actually made a difference in people’s lives. You may not be making the same money as you did back in New York, but your heart was full and that’s all that mattered.

Bottles fucks you like it’s the last time because to him it is. He’d seen the letter from the Robin Hood Foundation on the kitchen table this morning, the start date set for next week. He can’t compete with a job in New York, not one with that salary. He would never ask you to stay, that wouldn’t be fair so instead he gives you something special to remember.

A night underneath the stars before you head back off to the big city.

He draws it out, keeping you on the edge until your skin is flushed and your eyes are bright. You kiss him when you climax and he drinks down your pleasure, savouring it because this isn’t going to happen again, and he wants to remember this moment every single time he closes his eyes.

In the aftermath, you lay draped across his chest, your legs tangled up in his. The blanket from the back of his bike tossed over the two of you.

I’m going to miss this, he wants to say, I’m going to miss you.

He doesn’t say those words out loud. Instead, he just holds you close because the love of his life is leaving in five days, she just hasn’t told him yet.

Love Bottles? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[erooca]

daycare pt. 2

ellie williams x reader

description: ellie williams is forced to work at a daycare. in part two, she gets more comfortable with her new job and with you. 2.5k words

omg im so happy a lot of people liked the first one!!! i hope u guys like this one too. i love writing ab ellie and am open to any suggestions you may have!!

part one: https://www.tumblr.com/erooca/724971592933834752/daycare

ever since you met ellie, you started seeing her more around your campus. every once in a while, y’all would go study together or maybe grab a coffee, but she’s never invited you back to her dorm before, at least not until right now.

like the gentleman she is, she held the door open and you walked in, instantly getting hit with the scent of ellie. specifically a nice, light scent of tobacco vanilla, which felt very on point for the freckled girl.

her dorm was small, smaller than yours since she had one to herself, while you shared with roommates. all that was in here was a bed, a desk, a mini fridge, storage, and a door leading to a bathroom.

her back wall was filled with little sketches everywhere. you knew she liked to draw, but you had no idea it meant this much to her. you took in all the drawings, examining them one by one. you see sketches of horses, dinosaurs (no surprise there), sunsets and just a lot of landscapes in general, and you see a few of an older looking man. you assume it’s her father.

ellie is watching you nervously as you examine all her drawings. she was scared as shit that you were finally in her dorm, but she also had a tingling feeling in her heart because you were surrounded completely by her and only her at the moment. she could get used to this.

it had been two weeks since her first day at the daycare. for two whole weeks, her thoughts have been plagued by you. she was loving it. she loved spending a full eight hour shift with you. just to see you, she would even come in five or ten minutes early.

she wasn’t very secretive about her crush on you. she did a lot of things for you. if you went on break earlier than her, she’d pick you up something to eat and would forbid you from paying her back. she would also buy things you had mentioned you needed for the classroom. one time, she even brought you a candy bar since she noticed you weren’t as energetic as your usual self.

even after all these gracious gifts, you were oblivious. it drove ellie insane. she really didn’t want to have to confess it out loud to you. she was really hoping you’d just take the hint and ask her out yourself. ellie has a bit of a hard time with rejection and she can’t imagine pouring out her feelings to you just for you to tell her you didn’t feel the same about her.

“hey.. is this one of king’s drawings?” you said, pointing at a colorful and bright picture. it had two stick figures with a hell of a lot of scribbles.

“oh yeah, he said he drew it for me,” ellie smiled, reliving the memory. king had told her it was a drawing of her and him hanging out together. ellie asked if she could keep the drawing and of course king said yes.

“that’s so sweet,” you smiled brightly. you were so happy ellie already made a strong connection with one of the students. the best part about working with kids is seeing the way you influence them and make them better humans.

ellie nodded.

“so, did ya’ wanna order pizza and watch a movie?” ellie asked.

“that sounds like a perfect way to relax after a week of working.”

you guys settle onto ellie’s bed (since there’s no couch) watching a random movie on netflix waiting for the pizza.

it was a really good night. you wish you could spend every night like this.

the next monday, you were eagerly waiting for ellie to enter the classroom door. you were so excited to see her. you guys had such a great time on saturday, and you couldn’t wait to be in ellie’s presence again.

when the door opened, all the children screamed out ellie’s name, getting up to go give her a hug.

“ellie!! guess what my mom did this weekend!!” a blonde girl named charlie asked.

“i went to the park yesterday ellie!!” pippa told her.

“hey! hey! ellie!” another kid called for attention.

ellie laughed and listened to each of the kids one by one. it warmed your heart so much seeing your students gathered around ellie, telling her stories and giving her hugs. you felt like you could burst from the warmth that spread throughout your body.

when she was finished, she got up and locked eyes with you. she greeted you and that was when you noticed two starbucks cups in her hands. she sheepishly handed one of them out to you.

“ellie, you shouldn’t have done this,” you said, taking the cup from her even though it contradicted your words.

“gotta get a coffee for my favorite coworker,” her lips rose into a half smile.

you brought the drink up to your lips and sipped. you’ve had starbucks countless times, but this one tasted different. it tasted amazing and you know it’s because it was ellie who bought it for her. you thanked her.

the day continued on as usual. while you were outside, you watched as the kids ganged up on ellie to chase her and take her to “jail”. you watched her run, taking the game a little too seriously. it made you think how she’d probably survive a zombie apocalypse, if it ever happened.

she easily got cornered and king tugged her hand, leading her to the fence. some of the other kids did a locking motion, acting as though ellie was chained to the fence.

“don’t get out!!!” one of the boys, william, said.

you made your way over, innocently.

“how’s jail?” you ask.

“oh, ha ha,” she said sarcastically, then her eyes lit up, as if she had a great idea, “hey.. unlock me!” she said, glancing at her hands.

“you do realize you aren’t actually locked in, right?” you ask, laughing.

ellie scoffs. you follow through with her request anyway, motioning an unlocking gesture. then ellie bolted.

“HEY! they let ellie out! get both of them!” one of the kids yelled.

now both of you were running for your lives from a big group of three year olds.

once you guys came inside, you had lunch, and then nap time. when the kids woke up, you opted to do floor toys and just keep them all on the colorful alphabet rug.

you sat with the children, watching them build with the duplo legos. they were each having you look at what they made. you praised them each time, suggesting they add a different colored block or make it taller. soon, you felt a bit tired so you laid down onto the carpet.

this turned out to be a bad idea when half of your students rolled on top of you, leaving you no room to even move. all you could hear was the sounds of your three year olds giggling, as they tortured you.

you called out for help from ellie but was met with the response of laughter coming from her.

wow. your own friend. you thought up your revenge plan quickly, “everyone!!!” you shouted, catching their attentions, “go give ellie a kiss!!”

“what? no- no,” but it was too late. the kids ran up to her, giving her kisses on her arms and hands. a few even gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“payback,” you smirk at her, watching as she’s trying to control the kids now.

“oh you’re evil,” she responds, playfully narrowing her eyes at you.

the rest of the day went by fast, but this time ellie wasn’t leaving when you got down to less kids. maria had asked that you go through all the cleaning duties with her that are required for closing. you agreed, obviously excited to spend even more with her. you decided to wait until all the children were gone to start teaching it. it would allow you to give ellie your full focus.

all the kids were called to leave one by one and soon it was 6:00 and all the kids had went home. it was just ellie and you in the room. you could already feel the intense butterflies moving through you. god, your crush had gotten bad.

ignoring the feeling in your stomach that was so extreme it almost hurt, you showed ellie the closet.

“so we keep the vacuum and broom in here, and all of the cleaning chemicals. there’s bleach water, soapy water, floor spray, and a bathroom cleaner,” you explain to ellie.

you went inside to pull out the vacuum but with a mighty tug, the vacuum wouldn’t come loose. it was stuck in between the children’s mats. you said a naughty word but kept trying.

“here, let me help,” ellie said from outside the closet, stepping inside.

“wait! don’t let the door—“

click

“shut..”

“oh fuck. did i just lock us in here?” ellie asked, wide eyed as soon as she heard the click of the lock.

“uhh.. yeah. you did. it’s alright, i’m sure someone will find us soon,” you said, hopeful.

the closet wasn’t super tight, but it definitely wasn’t spacious. you were a little too close to ellie for comfort. you could already feel your heart racing. someone better find you guys soon, or you might have a heart attack.

“i’m gonna see if maybe i can like.. jam the door open,” you said, trying to switch spots with ellie so you were closer to the door. you couldn’t ignore the way your skin touched hers in an effort to get across.

you started wiggling the handle with all your might, trying to move it up, down, and side to side. it wasn’t budging.

“try moving it like this,” ellie had found her way right behind you. she rested her hand on the door handle where yours was. your pinkies overlapped and ellie started jiggling the handle too.

you looked to your side and noticed she had her other hand resting on the door, for support, to the right of your head. she was basically leaning over you, trapping you within her arms.

“yeah we’re not getting out of this any time soon,” ellie states, letting her hand rest on the door knob.

you finally turned around to face her and it both hit you how close you both had gotten. your back was against the door and she was right in front of you, only maybe a foot away.

ellie felt a dust of pink wash over her cheeks as she realized how close she was to you. she hadn’t meant to position you like this, but she wasn’t complaining.

ellie was keeping her eyes locked with yours and neither of you guys made an attempt to move. you could hear as her breath was moving more rigid.

it was becoming too much for you, and you glanced down, forcing your head to look at the ground. you tried to relax your heart that seemed as though it was clawing out of your chest.

a soft hand rose to the bottom of your chin, and pulled it upwards, forcing you to look back at ellie.

“don’t.” ellie whispered, not taking her eyes off of you.

you don’t think you’ve ever desired someone as much as you desired ellie right now. you were so close to grabbing her face, giving her as many kisses as she deserved, but instead you stood still, frozen under ellie’s dominant position.

ellie took the hand from your chin and moved it to gently tuck a wisp of hair behind your ear, “wanna see your pretty face…” she let her hand rest on her cheek.

your whole face turned a blushy color at her words. how was this girl you met only a few weeks ago making you sink into a puddle?

“ellie..” you breathed out, scanning her face, trying to decipher any thought she might have. from up this close, you could see how irregular her pattern of freckles were. how they were different shades of the same color. you could count them all from this position, and you happily would.

“can i please kiss you?” ellie asked, in almost a puppy dog voice.

you didn’t trust yourself with your voice right now (hell, you’d probably accidentally propose to her), so you gave a sweet nod.

she took a step closer to you, bodies mere inches from colliding, she watched your eyes and glanced to your lips.

“are you sure?” she asked, wanting to confirm that this is genuinely what you wanted. her eyes went back up to yours and she searched them.

instead of answering, you moved forward closing the gap. your soft lips met with her chapped ones. ellie made a noise of surprise at your sudden movement, but easily got comfortable, kissing you back.

she pulled back after a moment, but stayed close to your face.

“holy fuck,” she breathed out, trying to regain any sense of herself she had previously.

before you had a chance to say anything, she reconnected her lips with yours. she placed her hands on your hips, pulling you in closer. you crossed your hands around her neck. you don’t ever think you’ve felt this kind of rush before. all you knew was that you wanted ellie closer. you wanted to be surrounded by her completely. now that you’ve kissed her once, you don’t think you’ll ever be able to stop kissing her.

she slowly started kissing along your jawline, and then trailing her lips down your neck. you giggling at the sensation from the way it tickled your skin.

ellie liked the way your throat felt under her mouth. she continued to leave soft kisses all on you. you could feel your hunger for her grow stronger and stronger.

just then the door swung open, leaving you to fall on the ground, and ellie tumbling over you. you both groaned in pain.

maria stood in front of you two’s lying bodies. she cleared her throat awkwardly. it was obvious she saw what you guys were doing before you fell.

“i’m not gonna talk about what i just saw, but how many times have i told you not to let that door shut??” maria said, only acting angry to wash away the awkward feeling of walking in on her (basically) niece making out with one of her best workers.

“it was my fault, maria. i let the door close,” ellie said, taking the blame. she stood up from the ground, and then held out a hand to you. you gladly took it and she pulled you up.

maria sighed in frustration, “don’t let it happen again, and get this room clean. we lock up in 15 minutes.”

as soon as she leaves the room, you erupt in giggles, thinking of how shocked maria’s face was. ellie joined your laughter, just now realizing how silly the situation had become.

knowing there wasn’t any time left to dilly-dally, you two sped cleaned the room.

you hoped the next couple days would be full of more closet kisses, more of those loving looks ellie had given you today, or even wishful touches throughout the hours.

unknown to your knowledge, ellie was planning on giving you every single one of those for the rest of her life.

[forbidding-souda]

hii could i request gundham, hajime, celestia (can be only gundham if u want) with a tradgoth!reader (can be both platonic or romantic whatever you prefer). also i just wanted to say that i love ur work <3

Gundham Tanaka, Hajime Hinata, and Celestia Ludenberg with a tradgoth S/O

vine boom, if this is ass then mind your business.

my own goth playlist

-Mod Souda

Gundham Tanaka

It's close to five in the afternoon. With the ebb of patience, you bite your lips, patting your eyeshadow with vigor. Precise and delicate, you try to keep your grip on the brush loose, and you keep pulling back to see if it's finally even with your other eye. From the bedroom attached to the bathroom, Gundham is tying his boots. If you don't hurry up soon, you both will be late for dinner. On this charming anniversary, Gundham surprised you with a day that he scheduled himself. At this hour, the finale is dinner, and you have spent long enough hair spraying your hair up to be able to do a full face. But you started the look anyway and are now stuck in the process.

Where you assumed he was feeling irritated, he was, in reality, getting somewhat worried. Did he not plan the time according to the time it takes you to prepare? He should know your timing by now. What did he mess up? 

He was born with relationship anxiety. There is no reason to decide whether the fear is genetic or self-conjured, understanding it won’t make it go away.

But when you turn and smile at him, a nonverbal signal that you’re ready, your gorgeous face calms him down immediately. The blissful emotions you conjure don’t always come from traditional romantic things. There is a natural draw to your dark aesthetic and your thirst for horror, it’s a looming veneration. It’s mundane for him now.

Walking outside and getting eyes from locals is as traditional to you two as a businessman in a suit. A few kind locals love taking pictures with you two, something Gundham doesn’t appreciate. Whether it’s through morbid curiosity (something he’s familiar with) or genuine respect is your job to distinguish. You’re quite used to differentiating the two. 

ᓚᘏᗢ

He gives the host his ID at the counter, anxiously avoiding their touch. You both enter with you having his trench coat draped over your shoulders from the cold while he sports his rare long sleeves. The words to the host are short, an avoidance of true conversation, and you two quietly follow them to your seats. 

“I can’t believe how hot it is in here,” your first action is to sprawl the coat on the back of the chair.

“Certainly akin to the depths of hell.” He grumbles. You planned for this situation as your bag holds extra setting powder, and even a small fan. 

“Wine for today?” You ask. “Or not.”

“It’s the occasion, but we must be on watch for the upcoming vulnerability to such of Aristaeus and his mighty grip.”  

You lean forward. “You’re perfectly able to protect us, my lord. I have no fear for such entities.” And with a light tone, “I trust you.”

His cheeks dust with pink. The two of you lock eyes for only a second before he looks away. He wants to add on to the warning, but he’s scared he’d start stuttering. My lord. What an impressive addition to the pet names you use. 

You place a hand under your chin, chipped nail polish on display, a casual sign of a settled relationship. “Ever easy to fluster.”

“Not many pleasant leaders in this mesh of corrupted souls,” he says. “A lover is rare, a gift from up above, something unnatural to ones such as myself.”

He’s explained this countless times and it never gets old. It’s his version of affirmation. He’s scared of physical affection, something as similar to him as touching a winged cockroach, but with a goddess as yourself he often gives you mercy by holding your hand or helping you with your hair. It’s the little things.

Rather rich and golden girls surround you guys, making you an eyesore. The various (what you consider) idiosyncrasies and quirks of people from old money can happen to resonate, but it will never be emulated. Once upon a time, you idolized being similar to that symbol of wealth. But when it comes to your subculture, you opt for DIY rather than name brands. Anastasia Beverly Hills doesn’t have an eyeshadow black enough to cover your lids evenly. 

It’s not the mayhem your dark appearance can be associated with that drives these types of people away, it’s the confidence you emit. Something Gundham loves you for, and you spark that energy in himself. Compared to before, there is now no off-switch to his consistent style and the joy it brings him, especially when he’s seen by your side. You welcome him to your subculture, an idea he can consider home. His natural aesthetic is now accepted by someone he considers endgame, and nothing in the world can make him happier than that.

You give him a mischievous smile that quickly dissipates into something charming. “I can say the same. A lover such as yourself is rare. You amaze me, you… I cherish you, Gundham.”

“And I you.” His lips twitch as he smiles. He once again locks eyes with you, analyzing the kindness in them when you opened your heart to him. The sensitivity still makes him uneasy, even after the long time you two have been together. But he welcomes it nonetheless, ignoring his instincts, guarded your trust like it’s his last hope.

Nekomaru told him, “If you get a good one, you better hold on.” and he’s kept that in his mind. He needs to not push you away, he needs to hold on.

Imagine you sitting on the bed while he laces up your boots raaaa.

The wedding's aesthetic will scare the rest of the classmates ngl.

Covers his face with his scarf at any sudden affection from you, permanently flustered at the idea of being loves.

Sometimes he'll even turn away so you can't see the weakened look on his face and his aloof smile.

My baby my baby.

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

Hajime Hinata

He swears the sun is so hot that he can fry an egg on the concrete. His car, a passed down one, was shabby and tired, but he drove it happily anyway. You sit in the passenger seat, phone on aux, looking out the window at the trees that surround you. 

The sun beams like a laser through the windshield and his control on the wheel starts to feel untrustworthy with the gravel of the road. He raises his hand, hiding the sun from his face before you reach over and put down the mirror. 

He looks at you, you smile at him, eyes bright despite your dark aesthetic. His outfit matches yours but just in color palette. His black button up is unbuttoned enough at the collar to reveal his sternum, courtesy of the hot breeze. His fingers are decorated in gothic rings that you had gotten him for an anniversary. 

As the car jerks once more, he furrows his brows. “You’re lucky.”

“What?” You ask while twisting the ac knob.

“You’re lucky I love you.”

Despite keeping his eyes on the road, he has the sense you’re giving him a soft smile.

“We’re almost there. Thank you for driving.”

He exhales a laugh through his nose, a vague scoff. Trusting you to drive his car on this road? No way. What’s even a question who the driver was.

“Ever think of finding one closer?”

You shrug. “This ones more beautiful than the ones attached to the city. You’ll see, you’ll get it.”

It wasn’t mandatory for him to go with you, but he understood the importance of sharing your subculture, especially since he is planning on being with you for the long-run. Having heard and seen the way your love blossomed for him triggered him into devoting his life to giving you the world.

In contrast to the former, you would have understood if he denied your request. He didn’t have to share your interest in the style and aesthetic, but you appreciate his piqued curiosity nonetheless.

When the metallic gates of the cemetery come into view, your spine straightens. “Stop here, I have to open it.”

“Are we breaking and entering?”

“No, I have the key. Stop here,” you repeat.

You open the car door and step out with an eagerness he’s hardly seen you have before. His state of mind while in your presence derived from attraction and interest. From your behaviors to the heels of your boots, his heart starts to beat when you shoot him a comforting look while walking away from the car. 

You dig through your bag, your back shielding whether you truly have a key or are just picking the lock. Either way, you push the gate open, your deltoids working as you do so, and you give a final push to give a fit entrance for the car.

When he expects you to re-enter the car, you don’t, shaking your head at him. You take out your phone and take a picture of the cemetery ahead of you before he has the chance to ruin the glamor shot with his driving.

Without you in the passenger seat, he looks around in confusion. Where is he even supposed to park?

You don’t care to explain, rather just walking ahead.

Without the sound of your music, the environment is suddenly quiet except for the sound of his wheels crossing over rocks. Giving up, he pulls to the side, putting his car in park, eyes still on you. You’re taking selfies, a bunch of them in the same angle, often raising the camera to get a view of your outfit.He closes the car down, unbuttoning another button, trying to ignore the sweat on his chest, and steps closer. That’s when you whip around, taking a selfie with him candidly walking in the background. You put your phone down and look at the photo. With the last button down, he looks so tasty you can almost swallow him whole. You smile, this photo is for me.

You do get to use pencil eyeliner for his waterline but don't even try putting it on his lids.

He'll get black roses for any romantic event, no matter how cliche, he still thinks the sight of you holding them is beautiful.

I imagine Souda had a crush on you first.

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

Celestia Ludenberg

cw I completely character analysized (made up word) Celestia's freetime events.

She has no one to blame for her constant isolation but her famished demons. Companionship has always been menacing, there has never been one so similar to her. She has chosen her cat over any potential love interests. Though here, gazing at your smile, a small hint of black lipstick stained on your teeth, she smiles to herself. The (rather inconsistent to the simple bather) lamps in your restroom offer a light bright enough to make it noticeable. 

She gently holds out one of her handkerchiefs. 

“Watch for your teeth, my love.”

Her bluntness towards your small mistakes (a mishap with clunkiness in your contour or something as simple as uncoordinated shades of black) often has you bickering like a married couple, but today you take the handkerchief and running it across the front of your mouth, blotting off the extra lipstick along the way.

“Thank you,” you say. Her eyelids drop to the kind words. She’s not used to being thanked so genuinely. 

After she deems you two ready, she enters her bedroom, a room that has the full ability to weigh down the average person's soul. She doesn’t care about keeping her bedroom family-friendly with the amount of gruesome-looking antiques and animal skulls, as well as the new, tan-colored cat tree that doesn’t match the environment at all. But she couldn’t find a black one and instead had to settle. Things like that make her more ‘human’ than she can commonly be interpreted.

She doesn't consider herself a model, but the gambling competitions that aren’t underground often require a photo to be shown. While others settle on a mugshot ass photo, she likes a professionally taken photo that captures her quality. Her beauty feels hallucinogenic, especially when accompanied with a stylistic background that she purposely poses to not blend into. 

Her newly favorite poses require your body draped over her, and a neutral facial expression with lips slightly parted. Those photos are framed along the hallways of her house. She looks at them often, tilting her head, trying to hide her love-stuck eyes when she stares at you. 

She shows you the world through her eyes, revealing you to dirty riches and a river of corruption. She uses her riches to give you a satisfied life, putting faith into you developing shared interest in hers. But one of the things that drew you two together was the similarities. She has never believed in ‘soulmates’, but the early interactions you two had gave her hope to a happy future.

Will bluntly point out when your eyeliner is uneven.

^ "Sisters not twins, Celestia."

Imagine how pretty her wedding dress would be.

Blood in vial necklace? She asked once until she learned how rotted the ooze can get after time.

She still has to get accustomed to not being selfish, and you're fully aware of her struggle with this new 'habit' of equal relationships.

[silvyadrakkon]

3 Under-Discussed Writer’s Block Busters

You all know me as an artist, but my first love will always be writing. And writer’s block is REAL. 

So I thought I’d throw out a few of my moderately unusual writer’s block busters to help my fellow authors.

Of course, the most common “answers” to writer’s block are:

Just keep writing, even if you don’t want to. (Something is better than nothing.)

Write now, edit later. (Leave your perfectionism at the door.)

Find what makes you most creative. (Play music, write during the same time of day, find good snacks, write in the right setting, and so on).

These are definitely helpful tips—things you 100% want to do whether you have writer’s block or not, but they’re not much use against more stubborn forms of creative constipation.

That’s where my three failsafe fix-its come in. They have always worked for me, no matter the situation. 

1. Change your writing method.

Story time! I haven’t been able to write for personal prodjects on a computer for four years—about as long as I’ve been writing and editing for my career. I associate my computer with business—even now that I’m between jobs.

My creativity freezes up whenever I try to work on one of my stories, and I get really distracted. Eventually I end up down a rabbit hole looking up limnic eruptions or different types of crocodiles, having only written a paragraph of a completely unrelated story. 

I swapped to hand-writing stuff just after my son was born, and that worked for a long time. I filled several notebooks with some great content (that will eventually be ready for you to read). But then my kid started walking, and I became his favorite chair.

If I have a pen, my kid wants it. And he won’t take a decoy pen. He specifically wants the pen in my hand, so writing when he’s awake is kind of out of the question. (I can only draw when he’s awake because I can balance my tablet on the back of our sofa.) Plus, those of you with munchkins know that you’re generally doing other responsible adult things when the kiddo is asleep, making writing then rather difficult.

I learned I can get a lot of writing done on my phone in the Apple Notes app. It sure beats doom-scrolling Tumblr and is a vast improvement over my retro minesweeper game when I’m spending some quality time in the bathroom. It’s also something I can write with when standing up, sitting on the couch, or hiding behind the baby gate on our stairs.

Can’t get the words out on Google Docs? Switch to Microsoft Word. Getting distracted on your computer? Handwrite your story—in a notebook or even on colorful construction paper. Don’t be afraid to experiment, even across the same story.

2. Get a second opinion.

I have a character floating around my WIPs who’s an absolute blast to write (I can unleash my full punning arsenal), but he’s also an ENFP, meaning we see the world in completely different ways. I often find myself stuck on how he would get out of the really nutty situations he often gets himself into. Thankfully, my ESFJ husband has really strong Extroverted Intuition (an ENFP’s dominant Jungian function), so I can often turn to him and ask, “What would be the dumbest could-work way you’d fix this problem?”

Asking for a second opinion is surprisingly low on most writer’s block fix-it lists, but it is by far one of the most helpful. I’ve been my mom’s developmental story consultant since I could read, and it’s been a great way for her to really churn out the novels. (It’s also a great motivation to finish your story because at least one person will be wanting to read it when you’re done.)

Even if you don’t take someone’s advice, it might still spark something that’ll propel your story forward.

3. Change your story’s direction.

Adapted from The Writing Life by Annie Dillard

Writing, in many ways, is a lot like digging a silver mine. As you rummage around your own head for precious nuggets (those really impactful scenes readers remember forever), you’re setting up a sturdy narrative shaft, using exposition and rising action to fortify walls so your story doesn’t collapse on itself.

Experienced miners know when a shaft isn’t structurally sound. They won’t willingly enter or work on a mine that could cave in on them, gauging the safety of the mine through small clues—clues their demanding boss is completely blind to. 

Your creative subconscious is a miner, and you, its employer. While not always, writer’s block could be an early sign that your story is about to collapse. Perhaps you’ve accidentally let a plot hole grow too large to fill with easy edits, or maybe the way you’re taking your story will fall flat, leaving you and your readers unsatisfied. Sure, you can force your creative subconscious to continue, but you’ll end up with a lot of unusable content in the end.

If you think you’re in a mine shaft writer’s block scenario, go back several plot points and start writing in another direction. If that doesn’t work, go back a few more plot points. While doing so may temporarily upset the plans you had for the novel, it will let you continue writing in peace and produce a better finished product.

[fayes-fics]

It Had To Be You: Chapter 2 - Pour myself a cup of ambition

Masterpost PREV | NEXT

Pairings: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader (also features Thomas Dorset x fem!reader, Benedict Bridgerton x Tessa), Modern AU

Chapter Summary: Set 5 years after Chapter 1 (linked above). As your job takes you abroad for the very first time, you bump into the last person you expect on another shared journey full of revelations.

artwork credit: @colettebronte

Warnings: none really… some sexual language, swear words, bickering, and flirting.

Word Count: 2.2k

Authors Note: Unbetaed. Chapter 2 of my multi-chapter modern rom-com, heavily inspired by When Harry Met Sally. Sorry that it's taken a while to get this next part written. I hope you all enjoy! <3

7 years ago (5 Years Later)

You stand just before the security gates at St Pancras International, engaging in a rare PDA moment. But you justify to yourself that this is the first time you have had to go away on business since you started your new relationship three months ago, and this one seems like great potential. Dr Tom Dorset. Friendly, sweet, handsome and, so far at least, well-adjusted and emotionally mature. Your friends agree he’s quite the catch. And he is pretty fantastic in all sorts of other ways too. You certainly have no complaints in the bedroom.

Just as he whispers how much he will miss you and kisses that spot on your neck that makes you a little weak, your moment is interrupted.

“Tom? Tom Dorset? Is that you?”

There in front of you is the man you thought you would never see again. Looking a few years older and dressed better, but there’s no doubt who it is. You’d never forget those eyes.

“Ben? Ben Bridgerton?!” Tom seems delighted, and it occurs to you that they must be old friends as Tom takes his arms from around you and shakes his hand warmly. Just fucking great.

“I thought it was you! I haven't seen you for years! Was the last time when I came to Ant’s at Trinity?! What have you been up to?”

“Medical school mostly,” Tom offers demurely, then turns to you. “Oh, sorry, Ben, this is y/n y/l/n, y/n this is Ben Bridgerton; I was his brother’s roommate at Trinity College, Oxford.”

Ben’s eyes cut to you, and you see a confused look pass over his face; like you are familiar, but he can’t place why. 

“Well, I must get this train, but it was great to see you! Email me!” Ben smiles warmly, and with one last brow knit in your direction, he takes off. 

“Thank fuck he didn’t remember me,” you exhale loudly when he is out of earshot.

“Ben?” Tom looks confused.

“Yes, We drove from St Andrews to London together five years ago, and it was the worst road trip I think I've ever had,” you bemoan. “He was dating a friend of mine, and I agreed to split the drive. Urgh, it was terrible. He’s so obnoxious.”

Tom looks over your shoulder. “Well, looks like he just got on your train, honey, so umm, good luck with that,” he chuckles, bemused as you roll your eyes.

“Just fucking great,” you sigh sarcastically and plant your head on Tom’s shoulder as he draws you into his safe, warm embrace again. 

“I love you; I will miss you,” he says softly, cupping your jaw lovingly as he gently kisses your lips.

It's only the second time he has said it, and your heart flutters as you break into a huge smile. “I love you too. I will be back before you know it,” you promise, pulling him in for a passionate kiss you hope he will remember.

As you part, he exhales raggedly. “God, now I’ll miss you even more.”

“Mmm, that’s the point,” you whisper coquettishly and run a hand down his back, inside his coat, unseen by people around you. “Text me, sexy stuff,” you request quietly, then gently bite his bottom lip.

He groans, “Good god, woman, get on that train before I drag you somewhere or buy a ticket to join you.”

___

You are still giggling and feeling so fizzy and light, like champagne is in your blood, as you skip onboard the train to Paris. Taking your seat in First Class that you’ve been assigned by work feels like such a luxury; excited to cover your first story abroad.

Your phone pings just as the train slips out of the station. Love you. Safe travels. Txx

You can’t help your little titter of happiness, and just as you go to type a reply, someone leans over from the seat diagonally behind you, across the aisle.

“I swear I recognise that giggle. The University of St Andrews?” 

It’s Ben. Of course, it is. Thanks for that fate.

“Yes,” you sigh, not turning around, annoyed he doesn't remember more detail. How could he possibly forget calling you beautiful? Your traitorous brain yells in your skull.

“Did we date?” he questions.

You can't help but almost snort at that. “Hell no!” You twist around. “You were dating my friend Gen. We drove to London together after term ended.”

“Oh, I remember now!” he smiles, “you wouldn't give me a Malteser.”

“You propositioned me!” you blurt out as you watch him pull an apple out of his bag.

“No, I didn't,” he laughs, “I just said you were beautiful,” and he takes a bite out of the fruit. “You still are, if it's any consolation,” he offers, around a mouthful.

“None whatsoever,” you fib, feeling your cheeks heat at the compliment. “And you still talk while you eat, like an animal,” you roll your eyes, barely believing how riled up you are from exchanging less than five sentences.

“Would you two like to sit together?” the man opposite you at the table offers.

“No, that's really not….” you begin.

“Yes, thanks!” Ben interrupts, and you scowl at him as he stands immediately, throwing his bag down next to you before swinging over as the man moves aside.

“So you were going to be a journalist?” he winks after he settles into the seat opposite you.

Up close now, he is still just as handsome as he was. Maybe more so, jaw more defined and smattered with stubble. The utter arsehole.

“I am a journalist. My internship at the Guardian turned into a job. I'm going to Paris to cover the climate summit,” you state proudly, squaring your shoulders a little. “You?”

“Visiting my fiancee,” he grins, and something twinges in your gut. Maybe getting tacos for lunch wasn’t a good idea.

“You are getting married? You?” you laugh in total disbelief.

And you are suddenly back in your old studio flat, hearing more about his player reputation. A few months after the drive to London, Gen came to crash on your sofa and commiserate her reentry to single life. She didn't seem that upset about the dalliance ending, to be fair, mostly about how much she’d miss the ‘fucking mind-blowing fucking’ as she had so indelicately put it. You can see the words floating like a speech bubble above her face in your mind “Y/n, I can live without the dick attitude, but damn, I don’t know that I wanna live without that dick, you know?” Then threw herself face-first into a cushion. You cut off her margaritas at that point. How much that had to do with not wanting to think about him and his member, you decided not to dwell on.

“Yes,” he cuts into your reverie. “Her name is Tessa. She's an artist too. She's Parisian.”

“Tres chic.”

“How long have you been with Dorset? Wait, don’t tell me. Let me guess,” he smirks.

You fold your arms and raise an eyebrow. “This ought to be good,” you mutter as much to yourself as to him.

“Hmm, three months?” 

Dammit. How did the bastard get it spot on?

“Why?” you try to bluff, but the victorious crooked grin that unfurls over his face shows he knows he's right without you having to say it.

“Goodbye before a trip. Classic three-month behaviour,” he opines, taking another huge bite of his apple.

“Glad to see your eating habits have at least got healthier,” you state dryly, trying to change tack.

“Tessa likes to eat healthily,” he explains with an almost dreamy expression. Part of you is already impressed by this woman you have never met who has turned the human rubbish bin into a more impressive version of a man. “Has he told you he loves you?” he queries, spittling just a speck of apple onto the table.

“Why is that ANY of your business?” you frown.

“Because if he hasn't, he's a fool,” he shrugs casually as if those words aren't some of the sweetest you’ve heard.

“Luckily, he’s no fool,” you respond, confirming without actually confirming.

He nods. “Good. Dorset is a good one. Don't ‘y/n’ him away,” he jests, using air quotes.

“What the fuck does that mean?” you spit, suddenly whiplash angry when just a few moments ago you were impressed with his sweetest.

“You can't smoke in my car. Eating that will kill you,” he adopts a high-pitched voice and waggles his head as he mocks you.

“Fuck you,” you grumble.

“I would have, happily, but you said no,” he winks, and you want to punch him.

“I thought you just denied propositioning me!” 

He just shrugs and laughs loudly. You can tell everyone around you is most amused by your back and forth, so instead, you shoot him a glare and then change tack, staring out of the window as the countryside of Kent zips by. So irritated you forget to text Tom back for another five minutes.

___

“Do you know anyone in Paris?” he asks, pulling out an AirPod as you close your laptop sometime later. 

The train is somewhere under the Channel, and the darkness of the tunnel outside the window makes the train feel a touch more intimate, claustrophobic even.

“No,” you admit.

“How about Tessa and I take you out for dinner?” he proposes.

“Isn't tonight your first night together in a while?” you frown.

“Yeah… and?” he seems to be either not catching your train of thought or being intentionally obtuse, goading you into a trap to state the obvious.

“I would have thought you'd be otherwise occupied,” you arch an eyebrow pointedly.

“Oh…” he suddenly catches your drift and, rather adorably, a spot of pink dust his lovely cheekbones. OK, maybe not the latter.

“Certainly not wanting a third wheel, like me hanging around,” you point out meekly with a knowing smile.

“If that is your way of offering a threesome, I’m down,” he flirts, his voice suddenly velvet smooth, so much so the hairs on the back of your neck prickle up.

“God’s sake,” you mutter, feigning more indignation than you actually have.

“You're the one who told me about your lesbian experiences at uni!” he argues defensively.

“I was just trying to prove a point!” 

“Got to be honest, don't remember a damn thing except the visual that almost had me drive into a bus shelter,” he admits with a chuckle.

“And take out that delivery cyclist,” you remind, joining in.

There is a moment where your eyes meet in a joint nostalgia of amusement, and something feels softer between you.

“Listen, Tess’s brother is a chef at a great little bistro; we will almost certainly end up there anyway, as we usually always do. I'm sure she would be delighted for you to join us,” the sincerity of his offer touches you.

“Thanks, but I have to do some research ahead of tomorrow. I’ll probably just order room service and crash out,” you admit, knowing that is a lame response.

“Fair enough. Well, let's at least exchange numbers this time. Stay in touch? If you are at a loose end at any point, let me know, and we’ll happily give you a tour or just grab a drink?”

“Okay”, you capitulate and hand over your phone for him to punch in his number.

“Wonderful” he smiles genuinely, and his hazy eyes dance. “Are we finally becoming friends?” he teases gently as he seems to fiddle a little longer than needed to put in a few digits.

“I guess so,” you respond with a laugh.

He hands back your phone, and weirdly it's screen locked.

“Good, And as my very first act as your friend, may I make a comment you are not allowed to take offence to?” he questions, with an odd tone.

Your dander is suddenly way up. “Whatttt?” you elongate the word rife with suspicion.

He leans over the train table suddenly, and you startle as his lips are warm against the shell of your ear, your heart-rate spiking. “You have a fucking fantastic pair of tits,” he murmurs.

You splutter, shame, outrage and desire flooding your system in almost equal measure. Incapable of forming words, you sharply pull back into your seat and shoot him your most sour glare.

“Maybe don't hand your phone over when it’s open to the message thread with your boyfriend,” he chuckles.

You feel mortified, recalling the photo you'd texted Tom last night as a going-away present, and you are almost blinded as the train suddenly swoops out of the tunnel and sunlight floods into the compartment.

In fact, you are grateful that he gets a call just at that moment. It seems to last ages, and he wanders away, probably to find the buffet car, knowing him. By the time you see him making his way back through the carriage, the train is pulling into Gare Du Nord. You are on your feet and walking to the next carriage to alight. Not certain you can live down your embarrassment. 

There are a few moments as you wander around Paris over the next two days when your fingers itch to dial his number… but you never do, something always stopping you. Bizarrely, you think it might be the idea of meeting his fiancee, and you have no idea what that means, so avoidance seems like the best tactic.

After all, he’s probably moving to Paris soon, so really, what's the point?

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Breaking the Class Ceiling Chapter 4

This is set in early 1900s U.S.A., during the Edwardian era with some style changes into the upcoming Art Nouveau period. I've changed history a bit for this. Pretending that America didn't have a full Civil War and trying to create a more optimistic outcome for the purposes of the story. I've also tried to research what the rules for society/socializing were back then, and tweaked some of them.

Warnings for upcoming chapters: minor character death, some sexual harassment/assault (but nothing too graphic or traumatic), smut

Previous chapter Next chapter

*smut (ish) in this chapter

Rumor had quickly spread of what happened at the party, and out of embarrassment and public ridicule Rumlowe and Pierce quickly left to go out west to “find new opportunities.”  

Everyone’s attention was now fixed on the World Fair.  It started in April and was ending in December in St. Louis.  You were planning a trip and had invited multiple people in your social circle, including Steve and Bucky.

“You must come, my darling,” you cooed at him as you flitted around your drawing room, making plans and riddling off a list of things to pack to the maid who was furiously writing.

“You know I can’t afford a trip to St. Louis, my love,” Bucky sighed quietly.

“You won’t be paying for it, dearest, I will,” you announced with no room for argument.

“I can’t miss work,” he said.  “Mr. Fury has many contracts he needs me to take care of in these next few months.  The holidays are coming up, too.  I can’t take so much time off before then.”

“Oh pish posh,” you waved him off.  “You can quit your job.  I’ll pay you to be my personal escort,” you quickly twirled in front of him, “in more ways than one,” you winked at him.

Bucky laughed as the maid in the corner blanched at your innuendo.  “You’d pay me to be your date?” he asked incredulously.  “No, Y/N, besides I like my job, I need to earn my own way.”

“Ugh,” you groaned, plopping down on your knees in front of him where he sat.  He gulped.  “You are refusing my gifts again?  My darling, I told you to learn to accept my gifts.  I have plenty.  And if you must earn it,” you shuffled closer to him, setting your chin on his knee, looking up at him innocently, “then why not earn it by being the best beau to me while on vacation?”  

Bucky gulped again, watching you carefully as you sat looking up at him.  As much as he enjoyed these (mostly) private moments, they were a tease, causing a kind of itch in his lower abdomen that he more than once had to relieve when he arrived home after spending time at your house.  As if sensing his hesitation, you glanced at the maid.  “Bessy, could you give us a moment’s privacy please?”

Bessy sniffed indignantly as she booked it out of the room, closing the door behind her.  When the coast was clear you lifted your head and then placed your hands on his knees, sliding them up his thighs slowly as you gave him a doe-eyed stare.  His breath stopped as he watched you, his own hands had a death grip on the arms of the chair he sat on.  Your hands slid close to his core, which was pulsing.  He tried to shift away so you wouldn’t see but it didn’t deter you.  You scratched your fingernails down his legs as you slid your hands back down.  

“Will you come with me to St. Louis?” you asked in a voice that was feigning innocence.

Bucky’s hips stuttered as your hands started to slide up again, this time your right hand rubbing his inner thigh right next to his throbbing cock.

“Y/N, you…mmmh,” he moaned lightly, sounding strangled as he tried to stop himself.  “We can’t, it’s not…we’re not married,” he mumbled, losing coherence quickly.   

“Yet,” you corrected, your fingers sliding until they slightly stroked his cock through his pants.  He moaned again, his hand flying to your wrist to stop you.  “Will you come with me to St. Louis?” you asked again, this time standing, hiking up your dress and straddling his lap before he could stop you.  You ran your hands up his chest and wrapped your arms around his neck, dipping your head down to the crook of his neck and kissing it repeatedly.  Without much thought he brought his hands to your hips, keeping you over his cock as he cautiously rutted up into you.  Your kisses became more heated and you sucked on different spots, making Bucky’s eyes roll back in his head.  You made your way to his ear, your breath tickling his neck, then you nipped his earlobe, making him whimper lightly.  “I’m your job now, my darling,” you said in an authoritative and husky tone.  Bucky nodded.  “You’ll come with me to St. Louis,” you continued.  He nodded again, gritting his teeth as he rutted up harder into your clothed center.  “I will pay you for your troubles, since my company is apparently less important than writing contracts,” you tugged his shirt down and gave a broad lick from his collar bone to his ear, sucking on his earlobe.  He whimpered louder.

“No troubles, doll, my pretty doll, please,” he begged, his hands kneading your thighs now.  “I’ll do whatever you want, just please.”

“Please what, darling?” you teased, peppering soft kisses across his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, down his chin, and so close to his lips but without actually touching them.  

“Oh God, please, I need to, to…” he trembled beneath you as your hands stroked through his hair, scratching at the nape of his neck.

“Go ahead, darling,” you gave him permission, your lips hovering over his mouth.  You ground down on his lap a few times, which was enough for him to finally burst.  His hips shook as his head fell back, his eyes screwed shut and his mouth slack as he panted.  As he finished in his trousers he pulled you in close, setting his forehead against your forehead, noses nuzzling each other as he came down from his high.  “Very good, my love.  You’re so handsome like this,” she teased as she gave his nose a small peck.

“I love you, Y/N,” Bucky sighed, his embrace tightening around you.

You let out a sound of surprise, looking at him with wide eyes.  “I know we are not engaged, but none of what we’ve done in this courtship is traditional, so to hell with it.  I love you.  I think of you constantly.  I want nothing more than to spend every waking moment with you.”

“I feel the same, Buck,” you said, a wide smile on your face. 

“So if you want to employ me to do so, then I accept.  Though I’d happily do it for free,” he gave you a mischievous smile.  You snorted at him as you rolled your eyes.

“What’s your going rate, Barnes?” 

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

Comparing Killers

I sent an ask to my buddy @insane4fandoms a few days ago, and in their reply, they mentioned potentially doing a character analysis for both MadPat and my very own fanmade cannibal EgoPat Caliban in the future.

(This stemmed from one of their latest drawings. Again, thanks so much for remembering my scrunglies, friendo ❤️)

SO, being the way I am, I took some random inspiration and now I'm going through with that exact analysis myself! Just following my instincts as a writer and all that stuff.

___

MadPat:

Now, just to get this out of the way because I have a sneaking suspicion that someone’s gonna read this and automatically assume I’m being stuck-up: I really like Mad as a character. Matt has done an amazing job portraying him. . .though, Matt just has a knack for unhinged characters in general, lol.

And thanks to Matt's acting skills, Mad is an enjoyable villain. He’s cluster of chaotic problems shaped like a man in his thirties, and we all love him for it. (Honestly, I kinda see Mad’s behavior as similar to that of The Actor from all of Mark’s projects. Comedically evil with a tendency to throw tantrums when things don’t go his way.)

The FNAF Musicals have made many slight tweaks to the lore of the games to not completely plagiarize the story. So, of course, Mad is a slightly-tweaked version of William Afton: it’s made very clear that his crimes include murdering kids. On top of that, he has no problem playing long-cons with pizzeria employees before eventually killing them, too.

We’ve seen plenty of times that Mad is pretty much never afraid to get violent. Oh sure, he tries to put a mask on when he needs to, but it’s easy to see all his urges beneath that mask. (And again, much like Actor!Mark, Mad ain’t too shy about being callous and hostile to almost everyone around him.) He’s very quick to anger. To make things worse, he’s also quick to desperation.

While Mad is too smart for everyone else’s good, he’s still pretty damn impulsive/irresponsible. His crimes were all concentrated on the pizzeria; it didn’t take very long at all for the disappearances to pile up and gain unwanted attention. Now, a bunch of missing-person-cases are one thing, but leaving evidence is quite another.

Hell, in the beginning scene of Web of Lies, the wacko-in-a-bearsuit himself literally said, “Every INCH of this place is INCRIMINATING! Ten minutes of poking around this place and they’ll discover what I did. . !”

If Mad were to hear of Caliban's work, he'd probably be impressed at first and automatically assume that Caliban is just like him, just with more people-eating. However, if Mad were to actually meet Caliban and get a better read on his personality, Mad would likely end up insulting him one way or another. He'd see Caliban's professionalism as tedious.

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Caliban Crawford:

Though I've made it pretty obvious that he's my special boi, Caliban is an objectively bad person. He may be insane, but he’s not delusional enough to deny that. Whenever his and/or Murdock's targets happen to be alive when they’re dragged to his den, he can be very, VERY sadistic throughout the butchering process. (Especially if the target has done something to personally affect him, Azalea, or any of his other peers.)

Sure, he doesn’t complain about working with dead bodies, but having a live meal is quite a special occasion. In such cases, he enjoys watching the unfortunate soul in question squirm and listening to them scream/beg. Taunting, dragging things out, making morbid puns all over the place, the works.

Despite all this, I’ve specifically crafted Caliban to be an extremely morally-gray character. (To be honest, the only fanmade ego of mine who’s full-on evil is LeviathanPat.) He’s still able to be logical/rational when he needs to. He takes pride in his self-control; yes, he has cravings for human flesh, but he knows he can’t afford to just attack any person he sees whenever he gets hungry. He knows he has to be EXTREMELY CAREFUL in order to keep his business away from the authorities. So, he only eats those he and his peers (Murdock, Azalea, etc.) are hired/paid to bump off.

On top of that, Caliban still has some humanity left. While he’s obviously nowhere close to a perfect angel, he’s still able to form genuine relationships and treat those in his circle with kindness/respect. Get on his good side, and you'll have quite a strong ally.

Though his morals are limited, one of the biggest differences between him and Mad is the fact that Caliban would never, NEVER stoop so low as to harm a child. In fact, he tends to avoid children altogether due to his own childhood trauma. (Totally not me projecting because I grew up in a dysfunctional family with verbal/emotional/psychological abuse.)

Getting back to the juicy stuff: Caliban is smart and efficient with his work. He prides himself on not leaving any evidence behind. (Yes, he still makes occasional mistakes, but even then, the aforementioned evidence still comes in very tiny amounts.) That's why he and Murdock became friends and started working together in the first place: since Caliban divides up which parts can be cooked/eaten and which parts can be sold on the Black Market, it really is easy for targets to just seemingly vanish into thin air.

Though my stories involving Caliban probably show him acting calm (despite his pun-addiction, lol), please, PLEASE don't be fooled. He's got just as much unhinged energy as Mad. He just happens to hide it a bit more often. But he definitely has his chaotic moments; half of the time it's out of unhinged joy, and the other half of the time it's because an enemy pissed him off enough to get their skin privileges revoked. (Basically, it's not that much of a stretch to see Caliban as a combination of The Hermit and Mack.)

Now, if you've seen @insane4fandoms artwork of him, then it's pretty clear that some inspiration was taken from Hannibal Lecter. And while I definitely appreciate references like that. . .well, that inspiration is mainly just for Caliban's appearance. I've said before that Caliban is nowhere near as arrogant as Hannibal. Even so, if Caliban were to see/hear about all of Mad's shenanigans, he'd write Mad off as being sloppy and unimpressive. If he were to actually meet Mad, his opinion would just get worse; he'd see Mad as a fair bit annoying and bratty.

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@sammys-magical-au @b-is-in-the-closet @im-a-weird0 @themarpsimp @lexusinsannus @crazy-obsessed-enby @rozeliyawashereyall @gaymingintrovert @lampsforsocks @forestcouncil @x-hotrose-x @v1rus-seal