#and got major brainworms about it

[kitten4sannie]

ᴋɪꜱꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴇʟʟ

ᴘᴇʀᴠᴇʀꜱɪᴏɴ/ᴘʀᴀɪꜱᴇ ➠ ʏᴜɴɢɪ

pairing: bf! mingi x gf! reader x roommate! yunho

genre: smut

summary: there’s something irresistible about your boyfriend’s roommate.

w.c: 3k

warnings: established poly relationship, switch! mingi + reader, dom! yunho, lots of perverted activities going on (panty sniffing for one…), voyeurism/exhibitionism, mxm, mostly pet names + praise <33, glasses kink idk i really like glasses if you couldn’t tell,, a tiny amount of false praise/name calling, kissing (including a three way kiss 🫣), manhandling, instruction giving, masturbation, oral (receiving), cum eating/swapping, cockwarming, dp in one hole, brief tit play, bulge kink, breeding kink, squirting, creampies

a/n: DON’T YOU LOOK AT ME 🫵🏼 i had to write this okayyy it was the only way to quell the brainworms uwu esp after that dance challenge yuyu posted ohmygodohmfhwwh and migiii GRRRRRRRR BARK anyways, i’ll return to my enclosure now 😔 if you enjoyed plz lemme know~~

song rec: kiss & tell by ethan low + gen neo

ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

It only took a week of dating your boyfriend to know that he had a special relationship with his roommate. The both of them could deny it all they wanted, but you weren’t blind. You didn’t even mind it, either — in fact, it intrigued you. The more the merrier, after all. Now that you had just moved in with them, you expected to see it first hand, but you would come to realize that there was a lot more to the story — and you were a major part of it. 

“All we did was jerk off together, Y/N, it was one time, maybe two…” Mingi explained to you over the sound of running water, as if that even helped his case, handing you the plastic plate he had just washed. 

“Riiight, and I only scissored my bestie once or twice, right after the group orgy,” you replied sarcastically, wiping the dish with a rag and putting it back into your shared cabinet. 

Mingi almost dropped your favorite cat mug into the sink. “Y-you didn’t tell me you were into group sex.” 

You quickly took the mug from his grasp, holding it to your chest. “I was just joking, Min, so that you could see how silly you sound.” You reached up to caress his cheek with your cold hand, making him shiver. “Who cares if you’re attracted to your roommate. You know I don’t mind.” 

Mingi’s eyebrows screwed upwards, looking down at you with wide eyes. “B-but, he’s a dude.” 

“And?” 

He bit into his plump lip. “He’s got a dick.” 

You nodded your head. “Even better.” 

Mingi turned off the sink. “He’s my best friend, Y/N…” 

“I don’t see why that’s a problem, Min. You can’t control who you like.” 

“I-i don’t like him!” your boyfriend protested weakly, his rosy cheeks betraying him. 

You sighed, accepting defeat for now. “Okay, baby, I hear you.” 

Mingi suddenly cornered you against the sink, his hands on each side of the counter. He towered over you. “Why are you so interested in Yunho, huh? Do you want him?”

Now that the tables had turned, it was your turn to blush. “Wh-what?” 

Mingi slowly pressed himself into you, his body warm against yours. He was hard. You could feel it. “You heard me.” He leaned down to whisper, “You want to fuck my roommate, don’t you, baby?” 

Just then, the front door opened, a set of heavy footsteps making their way through the corridor until the very roommate you were speaking of appeared in the kitchen. “It’s raining cats and dogs out there,” Yunho chuckled softly, pulling his heavy black coat off, along with his foggy glasses, before shaking his head like a dog, his dirty blond bangs sticking to his forehead. 

Mingi had positioned you in front of him to conceal his boner, trying his best to look casual with his arms wrapped around you, his chin resting on the top of your head. “I told you to bring an umbrella, dumbass.” 

Yunho dropped his stuff down onto the kitchen counter, tugging at the thin white turtleneck he was wearing, the soaked material rolling up his waist. It had been soaked through, leaving little to the imagination. The both of you gulped audibly from where you stood. “You’re right, like always, Min.” Humming, Yunho used the loose material of his sweatpants to wipe his glasses clean, putting them back on, his gaze softening at the sight of his two favorite people. “Silly me.” 

“You’re going to catch a cold like that,” you whined, trying not to focus on the way his top clung to the ridges of his abs, or how his heavy sweatpants began to fall slightly from his hips. “You should take a shower, Yunho.”  

You weren’t the only one sizing him up, though Mingi wasn’t quite as capable of being subtle, instead biting straight into his lip, his deep-set eyes scanning lower until he could see the prominent outline of the very cock he was just talking about a few minutes ago. “Yeah, Yun. You’re soaked…” 

Yunho’s eyes formed half moons. His roommate and girlfriend were just too cute. He wanted nothing more than to fuck the living daylights out of the both of you, preferably in front of the other. Yunho couldn’t even keep track of the amount of times he’s jerked off to the thought of what you’d both act like when he was turning one of you out. He wondered which one of you would cry from being fucked full of cum, who could throat his cock the best, whose hole was the tightest, the list went on. These days, he’s even gone as far as to steal your panties, or Mingi’s boxers out of the laundry basket, just to wrap them around his dick and jerk himself off inside your shared room when the both of you were at work. And, as soon as he brought the soiled undergarments to his nose and inhaled your pretty scent, he blew his load all over your bed, like clockwork. Then, he almost always slipped in the hallway on the way to throw your blankets into the wash. It was getting bad.

He observed the splotches of water that had soaked into your own top and Mingi’s shirt alike, his lips curling up into a small smirk. “Looks like the both of you are wet too. Maybe we could all use a shower.” 

“M-maybe,” you choked out, worried your cover was blown by how flustered you looked. 

“You can go first though, bro,” Mingi finished for you, just about finishing in his pants from the thought of showering alongside Yunho, with you in between them. 

Yunho simply ran his long fingers through his wet hair, letting out a small sigh. “Your loss.” And with that, he made his way down the dark hallway to the bathroom. 

You didn’t even have to say anything for Mingi to know where your head was at, not when his other one poked into your abdomen when you turned around to face him. “Min…” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Bed, yeah,” Mingi breathed out, lifting you up from the floor and carrying you down the same hallway to your bedroom, the one that just so happened to share a wall with the bathroom. 

-

Beads of water slipped past the edge of Yunho’s tensing jaw, dripping past his contracting abdomen, and collecting inside the palm of his hand, aiding him in the pursuit of getting off, jerking himself off to the sound of Mingi piping you down. He could always tell when his best friend was about to cum; Mingi’s breath would get caught inside his dry throat and his words would start to come out jumbled. You were similar in that aspect, growing breathless, except you would always voice your desperation, that is, until all you could do was whine just before your insides were painted white. Knowing you were coming undone together in such proximity to Yunho made him so dizzy, he had to squeeze around the base of his cock to keep himself from cumming too soon. However, it was far too late, already letting out a sudden groan, leaving a few hefty splatters of cum on himself and the shower wall. Seeing white dots around his vision when he blinked, Yunho fought to catch his breath, pressing his cheek to the cool shower wall.

“Haven’t had enough, baby? Bet you need Yunho inside you next. Isn’t that right?” he heard Mingi ask you, finding it hard to swallow. Was he hearing right? 

“Yeah, I need him, Min, please–” you whined from underneath him, your thighs starting to tremble from being so close. 

“Ask him, princess,” Mingi cooed inside your ear, too drunk on lust to truly consider how his actions could backfire, bringing one sweat-covered arm to knock his fist into the wall, his hips smacking relentlessly into yours. “He’s right there.” 

Yunho jumped at the sensation of Mingi knocking through the wall, reaching over his body to turn the shower water off, his heart thumping loudly inside his chest. Finally, it was his time.

“Y-Yun, please, come here..!” Yunho heard your muffled plea, and that was all it took for him to burst through your door, a small, useless towel clinging desperately to his hips, gazing at the both of you with hunger in his hazy eyes.

“Y-you actually came.” Mingi swallowed hard, his thrusts growing sloppy, about to climb off of you, but staying while when Yunho slowly shook his head in disapproval. 

“I did. Now, you’re going to cum for me,” Yunho told him in a low voice, slowly climbing onto the bed, reaching down to run his fingers along his arm, leaving light, feathered touches over your collarbone next, sending a shiver through the both of you. He licked at his lips. “You’ll let me see, won’t you?” 

Neither you nor your boyfriend needed to have a discussion about the budding development of your relationship with Yunho. It just felt right. You immediately hooked your thighs around his waist, Mingi responding by pounding eagerly into your cunt until the both of you began to cry out. 

Yunho hovered behind Mingi, his wandering fingers closing around his friend’s waist, controlling the rate of Mingi’s strokes until he began to shudder, Yunho’s leaking cock rubbing along the other’s heated skin. He chuckled softly at the sound of Mingi’s whimpers, holding him still. “You’re cumming, aren’t you, Min? Inside your pretty girlfriend?” 

A bit of drool leaking from his lips, Mingi nodded weakly, as though his head was too heavy to lift, letting Yunho push his hips further and locking him in place, coating your pulsing walls with his seed. “F-fuck, I’m filling her up, Yun, it won’t stop…”

Humming in approval, Yunho gently coaxed Mingi to the side to access your body next, grabbing ahold of your nearest thigh and lifting it up and out of the way. “What do we have here? Mmm, no protection, huh?” He observed closely as his roommate’s load began to leak out past your fluttering hole. “I didn’t know your girlfriend liked it raw, Min.” He smiled perversely at Mingi, suddenly lifting your hips up in the air until you were folded in half like a paper doll, blowing a bit of air onto your cunt just to see you squirm. “Do you like having your little used pussy eaten too, baby?” 

“Y-yes, Yuyu,” you gasped, not used to having your ankles near your head like this, your filled hole on full display. It was so embarrassing, being looked at by your boyfriend and his roommate like they were going to eat you alive, but you couldn’t help but want more of their attention. You reached up, spreading yourself open, feeling Yunho’s heavy breaths against your skin. “Hurry, before it all spills out…” 

Groaning, Yunho dipped his tongue in between your slick lips, licking a long stripe up to your swollen clit with his tongue laid flat, languidly gathering up your combined arousal, repeating this action over and over, earning moan after wanton moan from you. Yunho opened his eyes to see how Mingi had positioned himself behind you, sitting on the opposite side of him, Mingi’s ringed fingers groping at your tits. They eventually shared heated eye contact, both growing harder at the mere sight of one another. 

“How does she taste?” Mingi’s voice is gravelly, low, and dripping with lust. “Tell me, Yun.” 

“Like heaven,” Yunho sighs out onto your hot skin, tonguing at your wet hole and pushing the tip inside. It slips out when you tighten up around it, but Yunho doesn’t give up, forcing it back in, much to your approval, flicking it in and out, in and out, until his chin is soaked with your arousal. He couldn’t help but chuckle with delight, licking his lips clean. “Your princess is making a mess.” 

Mingi couldn’t help but run the pad of his thumb over his twitching cock head, spreading the abundant pre-cum along the rest of his length. “Keep going, and she’ll make an even bigger one…”  

Taking that as a challenge, Yunho dove back in, with even more enthusiastic drags of his tongue this time around, aggressively guiding your hips to his favor. 

You tossed your head back, broken moans and expletives falling from your lips. You instinctively reached out, wanting to hold onto something: Yunho’s shaggy hair, your boyfriend, the warm sheets, or something, anything, when Mingi took hold of your wrists and held you still, his fingers slowly moving down to interlace with yours. “Oh my god–fuck, please…!” 

“Yes, that’s it, baby,” Mingi encouraged softly, giving your hands a gentle squeeze or two. “That’s my girl, being so good for us…”

Yunho’s hum vibrated through your lower half, his nose only bumping into your clit one more time, before a spray of arousal hit his moving tongue. It wasn’t until he could hear your juices splatter down onto his bare skin and the bed that his eyes rolled underneath his fluttering eyelids. “Oh my god…” He was so dizzy with lust, he was going to bust at any second, if he wasn’t careful. Just then, he noticed Mingi pulling you up into his arms, your back to his chest. He watched Mingi tilt your head until your lips met, throbbing at the sight of his tongue disappearing into your mouth. 

With Mingi’s arm snaking around your middle, his hand  cupping your sensitive cunt and his tongue down your throat, you opened your eyes to gaze at Yunho’s lips. Wanting to taste yourself, you lazily broke the kiss with Mingi, pulling Yunho closer to you, so close that you could still see drops of your arousal stuck to his glasses. “I taste like heaven, huh?” 

“Mm-hm…” Yunho pressed in closer, sandwiching you in between him and your boyfriend, his hands moving downwards to explore the closest expanse of skin, whether it was yours or Mingi’s. “I’ll show you.” 

Yunho’s tongue slid into your mouth before you had a chance to properly taste his lips, letting you taste your warm arousal instead. Just then, Mingi lifted your hips up and back down onto his stiff cock, not even moving, just wanting to feel the way you stretched open to accommodate him. It felt so good, he couldn’t help but throb, eyes shutting tight from the pleasure, immediately kissing back when your lips were back on his. You turned your head slightly to kiss each of them, your boyfriend and roommate taking turns swallowing each and every moan you let out, that is, until your lips and tongues met in the middle. 

Soon, you pulled away to take a much needed breath, unable to catch it, especially now that you realized the two men didn’t seem to stop like you did, instead tilting their heads in opposite directions to deepen the kiss, drool dripping along their chins. They both gripped your hips from either side, mutually guiding them up and down, just as Mingi began to thrust up into you, Yunho’s cock rubbing along your clit at the same time. Once your cunt squeezed around Mingi’s cock, he knocked his head back, forcing the string of saliva that connected their lips to break apart. “Fuck, baby– princess, you’re squeezing so tight…feels so good…” 

“Is she? I bet she’ll squeeze even harder with me inside,” Yunho panted near your ear, his head spinning, swearing all the blood in his body had traveled to his heavy cock. 

“What are you waiting for? Give it to me..!” you gasped out, unable to control the volume of your voice, not when Mingi was slamming into you like a short-circuiting sex machine.

“Give it to her, Yun,” Mingi encouraged raspily, lifting your body up and lowering you back down, feeling your cunt slowly stretch open to fit the both of them inside and swallow them up completely. Once Yunho bucked his hips up, Mingi joined suit, their slick cocks rubbing along one another so quick, they would occasionally slip out, though they simply pushed back in and fucked you harder than before. “Oh, that’s it…oh, god…”

“I’m gonna–nnnngh,” Yunho cut his announcement off with a moan, gritting his teeth tight, pumping what seemed to be an endless load into your already used pussy. “Fuck, it really won’t stop…I’m gonna knock up your girlfriend, Min…” 

Just when you thought you would pass out, Mingi wrapped his arms tight around your middle, his hands laid flat against your stomach, swearing he could feel his roommate’s cock underneath the pads of his fingers. “What’s mine is yours,” Mingi sighed out, pulling out for a moment, just to force himself back in, shooting thick ropes of cum deep into your womb. Panting heavily, your boyfriend’s hands slid down along your abdomen, only having to pinch and rub at your clit for a moment, before you completely unraveled in between their heaving bodies. 

Yunho pulled his glasses off, tossing them onto the bed. “You really mean that, Min?” he asked, leaning in closer. Not only did he have free rein with his roommate’s pretty little girlfriend, but Mingi seemed to be up for grabs as well. If this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up. “Does that include you?” 

Mingi scoffed, his cheeks hot to the touch, hoping Yunho couldn’t feel how hard he just got. “Now, let’s not get carried away.” 

© kitten4sannie, 2024.

fff taglist: @yutasbutterfly02 @wisejudgedragonhairdo @dawn-iscozy @bbdeongi @multistanbaby @cr4zyf0rm @kittenfrostt @magicshop1913 @enbysforhongjoong @londonbridges01 @mingisdimple @motherseonghwa23 @wwooyology @everyonewooeverywhere @leo-seonghwa @yourfatherlucifer @hwallazia @vampzity

[sh1-n0bu]

so,,,, despite being a monsterfucker for a while, i never really got the love for yautjas. until i was forced to watch killer of killers due to the rampage going on my feed and uhhhhh im pretty sure there are at least a handful of monsterfuckers out there who wants to top/dom a yautja like myself. also this isnt much of a fic. its just a sudden little thought i had after going thru the rule 34s tag of yautjas. no yautja in particular, take it as you will, imagine whoever you like. i dont know anything about yautjas or how this all works. im just horny and freeballing it. feel free to correct me

so… yautjas huh? what an alien species and mind you, this is my first impression of these guys. despite the majority of the killer or killers tags thirsting over the warlord — as we all should — i found myself liking the viking predator a lot. the goons are cute too. the three predators of the movie parts even have names too. jotun, oni and baron in the order they appear. of course, the guy in the pic above, the last one everyone is thirsting over, is warlord predator, also called ‘Grendel King’ by one of the characters

anyways, enough geeking over the yautjas of the movie, time to move on to my actual brainworms

yautjas are alien species and just as they are humanoid, some parts of them are indeed humanoid. and some parts, not so much. i have seen a decent amount of yautja smuts on the yautja tag — haven’t read them yet bc i prefer to be the one to fuck rather than get fucked — but one headcanon answer had me thinking multiple things

yautjas — male, female doesn’t matter — have two dicks and a vagina as well as an asshole. bigenital, if you will. every yautja can therefore sire their young, but the female yautjas tend to sire them and grow them in their bellies due to their stomach having more padded muscles, serving as a protective meat shield for the babies. the male yautjas carry them as well, but it’s more common to see the females carry them

i can’t find the author but one author here on tumblr had given their thought that yautjas never knew about blowjobs and lemme add to that — fingering as well. look at their mouths and hands, full of claws, fangs, mandibles and shit. truly a creature meant for hunting and killing rather than feeling fleshly pleasure. yautjas don’t really care about it either, they’re more of an animal mating ritual type of pleasure seekers. find a yautja who shakes your fancy, court them, knot them full and have a few strong, next generation of young’ins. simple and straight to the point like an animal mating ritual. no need for foreplay, fighting and wrestling to see who will knot who is a foreplay enough for their species

blowjobs? never, unless one is trying to bite off the dick of the other one. their mandibles stretch and open, sure. but they will never stretch big enough to take the other’s dick into their mouths. even if they do manage to painfully keep their mandibles open at all times, their fangs and canine sharp teeth will lead to bleeding and injuries soon enough. so even if their two dicks are weeping at the tip, untouched, and their pussy is glistening wet, the easiest way to just get it done with is to fuck their cocks into the other’s folds. it’ll be full of yowls, cracks, chirps and even growls because i personally like to think that the yautjas have a ribbed dick with a spliced tip. not that their tips could open up like their mandibles, but it definitely gives odd sensations. add the constant bumping and ribbing feeling of the scales and folds of their cock and the mating session between yautjas are usually always loud

so what happens when a ‘ooman is thrown into the mix? a great fighter, a blooded one who has been marked by one of their kin (like lex in avp), a recurring champion from the gladiatorial combat? yautjas are impressed, respectful and some are even vying after your attention on the few occasions you’re allowed awake from the cryo sleep and wandering around the strange, deserted, hot world of theirs. their kin usually has a bias against ’oomans due to their race being resourceful and cunning. they’re just as smart as the yautjas, if not, even more. able to use whatever is around them for survival and able to keep going even after multiple injuries (bc adrenaline). they’re an annoying species and yautjas tend to stay away. a little bit less with you, though. they want to be in the presence of the undefeated champion of the gladiatorial combat, size you up and see if you are truly worth the heavy title you bear upon your meager ‘ooman shoulders

maybe one thing would lead to another or one had gotten interested in your strengths in the bedroom as well and that leads to a yautja receiving their first head and fingering. the moment you drop them to the ground and settle between their legs, the yautja is tempted to wrestle. it is a foreplay between their kin after all. but no, he was dealing with a ‘ooman right now and as excited he was about getting to the fucking, he was also curious. how do ‘oomans show affection? how do they mate? how do they carry their young? so many questions, so little time

they would stay down and obedient, an occasional curious thrills and crackles leaving their throat as their mandibles click and clack softly. mutually curious as well, you finally manage to take off their intricate and annoying loincloth like thing, dropping it to the ground. and the hum that escapes you is equally returned by the yautja as they watch, the soft clicking of their ever moving mandibles filling the silent room. a slit like opening. two of them, even, with what you assume is an asshole underneath them. rubbing the back of your finger’s knuckle over the one on top, you hear the slight rumble from their chest like a purr, taking it as a good sign

the slit on top is bigger than the one underneath. they’re much more harder and covered with protective shells and scales as well, rather then the second one underneath that seems more softer and gummy like a vagina. messing with the scaled one, you watch with an ever growing interest as the slit opens more and more before a cockhead is pushed out, followed by a second cockhead which was a little bit smaller. so, the yautjas have both anatomies huh? like certain animals and how their two cocks are kept inside a protective slit like some reptiles and lizards’

it’s bumpy, it’s ribbed, it even has little round shaped ribs on its sides too. such curious beings, how alike they could be to your kin but also so different. of course, there was much needed poking, prodding and an eager snooping around. two large uniquely shaped cocks and a vaginal opening as well as an asshole. interesting

hearing the impatient hisses of the yautja, you merely grumble under your breath, hissing back at him with annoyance upon being cut short of your little experiment. what do yautjas even do for pleasure anyways? do they fuck like humans do? must be it, right? at least they had the anatomy for it

the moment you get down on them, head between their strong, tight thighs and restless shifting body, a sound like a warning growl was heard before it was swiftly replaced by some soft noises like the purring of a cat. yautjas don’t know what blowjobs and fingering meant after all, their bodies prevented from such types of pleasure. so when your soft, small ‘ooman mouth took in the head of the bigger cock, the warmth around it felt like the yautja was melting in the fiery chasms of the many volcanoes of the yautja prime. it was soft, it was hot and it felt good. way too good to the point the creature was growling, groaning and even letting out odd hitched noises that you guessed was the closest to a moan

and when you put their entire dick into your mouth — with much anticipated gagging, choking and the constant wild bucks into your open mouth — deep throating the bigger cock while gently stroking their smaller cock using the slimy substance the tip oozed, the yautja has basically experienced heaven. the urge to just let go of ‘honor’ and ‘instincts’ and knot inside your warm, tight throat was strong. a deep, gurgly sound escaping them as their mandibles shook all over, unknowing of what to do when your free hand slipped further down and pushing your finger into their softer slit

if you thought the yautja was loud before, they were even louder now. constant, short little noises leaving them, rattling their huge body and even causing you to shake alongside as well. strong legs kicking and clawed hands tearing off the poor floor into shreds. it was a good feeling, the very best, even more than having a clan leader recognize them or hunting down the most honorable prey. ‘oomans’ hands and mouth felt good, they were amazing at fleshly pleasures and had the yautja acted on their interest in you a little bit earlier, they would have. they honestly should have because whatever you were doing to his poor life time long neglected dicks and gushing pussy were making the yautja feel odd. so so very odd. a tight coiling in their stomach, and they for a moment, thought you infected them with something

and then, the tight coils of his stomach is gone within a moment. a loud roar leaving the beast as their body went rigid like a spring, dreadlocks slipping into the floor in a heap as their legs even gave a little tremble. the tip lodged inside your throat twitched and shook, a thick substance filling up your mouth before you could pull it off, causing you to hack and cough out the strange liquid. it didn’t take long until their smaller dick was following along, spilling a smaller load into your jaws and chest, second slit tightening around your fingers as a soft, more thinner liquid like the one from his bigger cock coat your palm. all because your little ‘ooman fingers delved inside their cunt a bit further and seemed to have found a soft spot, loud roars and short breathy growls being switched to little cat like yowls. so, they were just as sensitive as humans, huh?

safe to say, the rumor of ‘oomans being extremely amazing at fleshly pleasures spread across yautja prime swiftly and before you know it, more and more yautjas are interested in a little endurance test with their longest reigning champion

[celuere]

So reading Blunt Rotation gave me the idea of Arle and another Woman (doesn't matter who) passing Fem reader back and forth, repeatedly shotgunning Her until she's on cloud 9 and then passing Her back and forth on their Straps/Cocks.

(totally get if Intox if that level isn't your thing, you just gave me major Brainworms)

Uhm… ARLEZANI- OH MY GOD WHO SAID THAT??????

Just two handsome women passing you back and forth on their dicks like it‘s daily routine, your cunt stuffed with their mixed cum as you lay between them, a fucked out mess, as you watch them pass the singular blunt around, occasionally leaning down to exhale the sweet smoke right into your mouth before two strong hands drag you back onto her lap. Zani usually has a hard time staying hard after an orgasm but you make it so incredibly easy for her. Unlike Peruere she isn’t tattooed on multiple places, but she does have a nose piercing. One that makes her all the more attractive. The kind of attractive that makes her irresistible, almost as addicting as the herbs they‘ve been smoking in a straight line.

„Hm… still dripping from us…? Poor thing…“, a steady hand would guide you by your ass over her dripping cockhead, a tail wrapping around your fragile body that’s been beyond drained of its energy. But the painful ache between your quivering thighs just doesn’t seem to stop. Even after them taking turns with your mouth- hands fisting your hair as they pushed their cock past your lips… you couldn’t help but yearn for more.

Reminder to share a blunt with them more often when you were supposed to study together.

You could still feel Peruere‘s two Frenulum Piercings rubbing against your g-spot as her biceps strained when she pushed your legs all the way up to your chest. The way she folded you in half on the mattress while you had to watch Zani‘s hand fly over her own dick. Her breathing was heavy with a tail that couldn’t seem to hold still, swaying around from side to side. Just the sight of this pretty woman‘s pussy getting blown to pieces by her friend- god, it was beautiful. But maybe that was just the weed kicking in.

You forgot about condoms but frankly you also couldn’t care less. Just the feeling of their mixed cum getting pushed out with each thrust back into your stuffed pussy was enough to send you down a spiral of ecstasy. The way Peruere’s lips connected with your neck for millionth time tonight as Zani‘s hands pushed you in and off her dick before the entomology student helped her take another hit of the almost finished joint. Just so you had to watch them stick their tongues down each others throat as the smoke slowly passed through Zani‘s nose. It sparked a little bit of jealousy inside of you, watching them get intimate with each other despite you being right there. Placed on her dick. It didn’t take them long before their attention was fixed back on you with Peruere smoothly pulling you into a jaw-breaking kiss by your chin after making a remark about „How greedy you were getting.“ as you simultaneously felt a slim tail wrapping around your waist, the ace-shaped end making an effort to brush over your already hardened nipple

Of course, you couldn’t please only one person at a time. Wrap your hand around Peruere‘s dirtied dick. Let the pearly mixture leaking from her tip coat your hand as you tried your best to get her off despite your brain being reduced to mush. And it would work. Twitching in between your grip, the sensitive flesh pulsating underneath your touch, a tattooed hand fumbling with your tits as the other one got a good grip on your neck.

Your college funds were definitely well spent.

[monster-effer]

Baldur’s Gate 3 Player x LaDS headcanons 🎮

Summary: My headcanons on how the LaDS men act in a BG3 campaign with the you, the reader. Content: Xavier x reader, Zayne x reader, Sylus x reader, Rafayel x reader, Caleb x reader (separate), very silly, Caleb and Rafayel being chaotic, gn!reader, no reader pronouns mentioned, multiple and major Baldur’s Gate 3 spoilers throughout (1.1k wc) A/N: A brainworm or mind flayer parasite entered my head at 4 pm on Saturday and has not left since. This is for my fellow DnD, BG3 and LaDS lovers!

Xavier – you never made it out of Act 3 because he couldn’t help but fall asleep to the OST and white noise once you reached Baldur’s Gate

Set-up: console, couch co-op Difficulty: Balanced, he wanted a little challenge but was ultimately here to chill with you Race: Half-elf Class: Paladin or Cleric of Light Time in Character Creator: 1 hour, he liked reading through all the origin character descriptions but decided to build a custom character instead. Then read over all the different race and subrace options.

He really enjoyed looking around the Nautiloid ship in the opening act.

He tried to read every book and note he came across in the game for the lore.

Xavier served as your guard dog throughout the campaign, especially if you played as a magic user.

He got jealous at the flirty lines the companions threw your way.

“Xav, these are not real people they are pixels.”

“…so, do you like me or Halsin more? You haven't answered me yet.”

And he almost had a heart attack when Harleep offered themself to you in the House of Hope.

He really enjoyed Wyll’s company and made sure to reserve a space for him in your party.

Regularly got lost despite the in game mini map.

When Jeremiah asked to join your campaign, Xavier told him “No.”

Zayne – you made it to the end of Act 3, but it took months and months due to your busy and conflicting work schedules

Set-up: console, couch co-op Difficulty: Balanced Race: Human Class: Wizard who favored frost damage Time in Character Creator: 30 minutes, he made the most basic custom character and spent the majority of his time choosing a class

Zayne was mainly interested in completing the main quests in the beginning. But he changed his mind after completing the quest to save Mayrina from Auntie Ethel.

He was in a passionate bromance with Gale and developed a personal vendetta against Mystra because of it.

He desperately wanted to befriend Gale’s cat, Tara.

“Tara is lovely, please tell me I can have her as a companion.”

“I’m afraid you cannot, unless you’re playing as Gale.”

His anguish was loud in the silence after.

He also became a big Shar hater after progressing through Shadowheart’s personal quests.

He was NOT a fan of Astarion. But, after learning about his past then destroying Cazador together he begrudgingly tolerated him in the party.

Zayne was flabbergasted – to say the least –  when he met Malus Thorm in the House of Healing. After you walked in on this “doctor” mutilating an innocent patient in his care, the frost wizard showed no mercy.

He silently judged Volo for his “scientific research,” especially after you agreed to his offered eye surgery.

Zayne usually does not care much about fashion over utility when it comes to armor, but you noticed he did not take off the Wavemother robe once you obtained it as a quest reward.

Sylus – you made it to the end of Act 3

Set-up: PC, usually online multiplayer but couch co-op when you visit his base Difficulty: Tactician (specifically for enhanced enemy tactics and increased long rest supply threshold because Sylus is a loot hoarder) Race: Dragonborn OR the hottest Seldarine Drow you’ve ever seen Class: Barbarian fighter multiclass who can attack 4 times a turn Time in Character Creator: 45 minutes

Your playthrough started out with just you and Sylus. But you created a separate save for when Luke and Kieran wanted to play as a full customized character crew.

Sylus REFUSED to cheese fights with you, instead he preferred to strategize heavily like y’all were going to war.

“We are clever enough to win without the help of bugs sweetie.”

Sylus initially liked Raphael because they both enjoyed making a good deal.

But he changed his mind when he witnessed the chess game scene in Last Light Inn.

You two somehow breezed through saving all the prisoners, Duke Ravengard and Omeluum from the Iron Throne.

He had a soft spot for Karlach but who didn’t?

If Sylus chose to play as the Dark Urge, he immersed himself in a redemption arc because he was all too familiar with resisting strong urges.

He wanted to adopt Mol and her band of misfits so bad.

Rafayel – you’re currently in Act 3

Set-up: PC, online multiplayer Difficulty: Explorer – you’re both here to have a good time, not struggle 🤷🏾‍♀️ Race: The prettiest elf/half elf OR tiefling you have ever seen Class: Rogue assassin that dual wields daggers OR Bard that uses Vicious Mockery often Time in Character Creator: 1 hour, he chose race based on aesthetics but got trapped by the customization options

His character has a crazy amount of charisma points and could persuade their way through any encounter.

He gleefully chooses the sassy/deep cutting dialogue options.

Consequently, you two end up in plenty of unnecessary fights but it is chaotic and fun.

Rafayel was downright frightening on the battlefield once he tried out multiclassing. IMO he would love the Gloomstalker Ranger + Assassin Rogue build.

He was fond of the Underdark section in Act 1. So much so that he produced a few paintings depicting the sussur tree and members of the Myconid colony.

He got the both of you obliterated by Vlaakith when he questioned the legitimacy of their alleged godhood in the githyanki creche.

As you both sat in silence staring at the “game over” screen he chuckled then whispered, “No regrets cutie.”

He was enamored by Orin’s outfit. So, you immediately stopped playing to find an armor mod to download.

Caleb – you’ve completed 3 campaigns together

Set-up: PC, switch between couch co-op and online multiplayer Difficulty: Honor Mode (rip) Race: Half-orc or Dragonborn because he thinks they look sick™ Class: modded gunslinger class that dual wields firearms🔫 Time in Character Creator: 20 minutes, you’re both veterans at this

He is the most chaotic force in the game outside of the netherbrain and Orin’s shenanigans.

Caleb ALWAYS saves Scratch and the owl bear cub just to watch their camp interactions. He also summons Scratch to come along with y’all on your quests throughout Faerûn.

Without fail he roasts Gortash every time he is introduced.

“Are we sure that he is the ‘handsome’ younger man everyone has been describing because…”

Caleb unironically loves Lae’zel and relishes exposing her to the truth about Vlaakith.

He volunteered to turn into an illithid this playthrough.

Caleb has memorized various strategies to get through the Gauntlet of Shar while you’re still fighting for your life during the Faith Step Trial.

Gideon along with the legion of Caleb’s friends have begged for an invite, but he always finds a way to keep it as an activity for just you two ♥︎

A/N: Also feel free to leave your takes on which race/class/mods each LI would choose in BG3 or any RPG!!! I want to nerd out in my comments/DMs ♡

[qqueenofhades]

I really really REALLY need to see more people makimg the connection between trump and his russian handlers tbh.......like i know we've somehow gone through the looking glass of putin apologia but that piece abt the NYT you just posted, the bots, the interference: in the bag for trump? Yes. But i dont believe its due to his or even republican power or popularity or forcefulness.......this is a man with so much debt and kompromat thats only getting worse!! Not to sound kwazy BUT WE ARE BEING FULLY INFLITRATED and at the risk of conspiracizing i think the russians are ALSO behind the Times's demise along with so many other information centers etc. Like i KNOW these leftists love him but like. Wouldnt they care a LITTLE abt being manipulated like this???

Trump is 100% an active, willing, and eager Russian agent. That's not even paranoid conspiracy theory, that's just the only reasonable interpretation of the facts:

NOT TO MENTION that in the next two years after the Helsinki conference where Trump kowtowed to Putin in every way, the CIA admitted to losing huge and unusually high numbers of classified informants around the world (not CIA agents, but people secretly working for the American government in often-hostile countries):

Once again, this all happened when Trump was in office, when he was actively handing over CIA intel to the Kremlin against the wishes of the entire national security establishment, and which other experts have suggested was directly as a result of Trump handing over the identities of American informants to Russia, including those stationed in Russia itself:

Now, I could go on, but you get the point. Not to mention that Trump just lost a major UK-based lawsuit against Christopher Steele, the former MI6 agent who was the first to provide documents linking Trump to Russia in the controversial "Steele dossier":

And now: Trump is deeply in hock for hundreds of millions in legal fees and punitive judgments that are only increasing by the day, he somehow just came up with $90 million to appeal the judgment against E. Jean Carroll (nobody knows where he got this money either), and Russian state TV spends all their time openly salivating for Trump's return to the presidency (so he can hand over Ukraine and the rest of NATO and, as he literally said, "let Russia do whatever the hell they want.") I know we're largely numb to all the awful treasonous shit that Trump does, but like. This isn't a conspiracy theory, this is just what's going on in plain sight, and while the Online Leftists have recently become so stupid that I honestly can't tell if it's just terminal brainworms or active Russian psyops, it's strongly indicated that it is in fact a mix of both:

So, like. Just some food for thought.

[heavenbarnes]

Hiii, I just devoured your older bf!simon posts and I got this one brainworm

So, he hasn't figured out how to make albums yet in his gallery, the first time he passed his phone around to let his team gawk at your photos, he had accidentally left one of HIS photo

Imagine the team scrolling through his gallery, drooling at your photo in skimpy outfits, various state of undress then BAM, the hottest dickpic of their L.t. appeared on screen (courtesy of your instructions ofc)

I just think it'll be A Thing™, like, obviously they know Ghost is hot, probably also know how big his dick is, but seeing it presented like that? Some of them definitely moaned. And I bet Simon noticed, probably will start leaving a few of his own photos in between yours, as a treat for the boys.

(Feel free to ignore this if this isn't sth you're comfortable with 🫶🏻)

this is fucking insane i’m going to wet my pants- thank you for this idea you’re a genius 🫶🏼 | effective continuation of this

the 141 would like to enter your older bf!simon’s phone into the museum of natural history for its significant contributions to peace keeping efforts.

if that phone hadn’t been in this safe house, there would be far more destruction in their wake. it goes without saying, really.

what you will say is, whilst his phone is the metaphor- it’s really you that’s giving the opposition time to breathe (limited, their time will eventually come)

the dining table was small, when you had four hulking great men around it the thing looked minuscule. room temperature beers in front of them, it’d taken at least three bottles each for the first to speak up.

“c’mon mate, put us out our misery”

obviously their captain would take one for the team and go first, eyes locking with simon. without being able to see his mouth, it was hard to tell but price was pretty sure that was a chuckle (he hoped it was)

a quick rustle as simon shoved his hand in the pocket of his tactical trousers, retrieving the battered android and laying it in the centre of the table.

bated breathe, you could’ve heard a fucking pin drop as they all watched him unlock his phone. one long finger hovering over the camera app before he pressed it, an almost collective sigh of relief emanating through the house.

simon couldn’t and wouldn’t organise his phone, apps always open in the background, unorganised on his home screen, not a fucking photo album in sight.

photos heaped together in the one collective mess. it was very possible to be looking at an old receipt one minute and then the small of your back with cum across it the next.

majority of the photos were you, and not always filthy. simon couldn’t take a photo to save his life but the ones of you always looked breathtaking.

if you asked him, that’s just what you always looked like.

however, the 141 weren’t there for photos of you smiling as you pet a friendly dog. they were there for the kind of photo simon was just about to pull up.

sat on the corner of the bed, photo taken in the long mirror against the wall. thighs spread and one hand playing between them as the other held your phone next to your pouting lips.

gaz was the first to state the obvious.

“jesus christ, mate”

simon didn’t even blink, finger swiping through the next photo.

on the bed on your knees with your chest pressed to the mattress. looking back over your shoulder with a fucked out expression as you practically gave your ass to the camera.

the unmistakable sound of johnny shifting in the seat to his left caught simon, adjusting his cock just out the corner of his eye.

photo after photo, full nude, lingerie, simon’s shirts, just the bed sheet. with every one that passed, the beer was soon forgotten about when the buzz they got off you was unmatched.

the sweet glow that seemed to radiate off you filled the otherwise dim place the men had been hold up in. photos beginning to blur into one until-

the photo was taken from mid-thigh, simon somehow looked even bigger from this angle. shirt lifted enough to show his scarred stomach but his balaclava stayed on. exposed eyes staring down at the camera as his large hand wrapped around his equally large cock.

dead silence speared straight down the middle by a moan, pathetically covered with a cough. simon pretended not to notice the accent, left the phone in the centre of the table.

nobody could look away, it was physically impossible to tear their eyes off the sight in front of them. had they ever seen one that big in real life?

“fuckin’ell L.T, what’ya doin’ w’all that?”

they all knew simon had a big cock, you could tell by looking at him- the way he walked. if you’d ended up in the showers with him on base and seen it soft you’d even know.

it was unmissable.

but seeing it like this? looming over the camera at this angle, practically eclipsing the natural light, his thick fingers just closing around the base. this was something else.

you were quite the artistic director.

nobody wanted to be the first to say what the other was thinking. allowing the silence to fill the space only broken by the occasional sound of someone adjusting their trousers.

simon didn’t need anything to be said, he knew what he had and he knew the effect it had on- anyone really. he simply sat back in his seat, spreading his thighs wider and ignoring the occasional glance that fell on him when he did it.

finally cutting them loose, simon swiped to the next photo- back to you with cum streaked across your face. throats clearing and murmurs arising from the group.

“that’s real nice”

“would y’look at the fuckin’ state a’that”

“what i wouldn’t give”

simon grunted in agreement, eyes flickering around the table with a feeling invisible growing in his chest. a feeling that he wasn’t used to but didn’t- mind?

he didn’t think too long, he couldn’t think too long.

those photos would just have to become part of the regular.

[slamminslamminmcgill]

goddd you really did HIT me with that, i have major brainworms. got me thinking about taking house's advice – getting between james' thighs, showing his dick some appreciation.

you pretend to get off for air while he's catching his own breath, except you're moving down. moments pass, and wilson bends to check up on you – just to feel your tongue on his ass.

imagine just going at him – licking, kissing, spreading his cheeks open to dip your tongue in. i mean, this guy deserves some good ol' TLC – he's an oncologist, can you imagine telling people they have cancer everyday? james deserves a break, and he might as well have your tongue in his ass while he's at it.

once you get him all prepped though... hoo boy. you pick a decently sized strap – you can work him up to more later – and tease him juust long enough to finally make him beg. because god, if him getting whiny about needing your cock isn't the hottest thing you've ever heard.

so yeah, take house's advice more often. it'll take you places, and make sweet little james happy.

SO FUCKING TRUE BESTIE ILY YAAAAS BBY YOU GET ME YOU SEE THE VISION 💖🥹💖🥹 assplay wilson real the people have spoken

no ok bc like picture it your first time alone w/ wilson in that fancy ass hotel. y’all get room service on his credit card and you two share a joint outside on the balcony 🥺 it’s so sweet. and like… lowkey kinda romantic? it’s more romantic than anything house has done for you, that’s for sure.

but that’s to be expected. wilson’s all about service. pampering his partner, lovebombing them, even. he’s down to fill whatever hole role you have in mind. if you want to be worshipped, he will worship. if you want him to manhandle you like a 5 dollar whore that owes him 50 dollars, he can do that, too. he can handle almost anything.

what he cannot handle is any sort of attention to his hole. he melts. he fucking bluescreens. he NEEDS to be warned if you want to go there, which is exactly why house told you NOT to warn him.

you just barely graze his hole with your tongue, and he squeaks, an undignified gasp that he tries to stifle with his hand. house was right, it was a cute sound. wilson tries to play it off, out of breath while he speaks,

“oh, you… you don’t have to do that, sweetheart…”

you pull back, puppydog eyes locked and loaded, “i want to...” you let that hang in the air, before tilting your head and tacking on a devilish little “please?”

wilson blinks at you, and then sighs. “do you want to, or does house want you to?”

you pause before you answer him truthfully, “…both.”

wilson thinks it over, weighing the pros and cons of letting you continue. sure, it feels great, but that’s not what he’s here for. he wants to take care of you tonight, not the other way around. plus, bottoming is so intimate for him. it makes him feel exposed. helpless. if there’s something in his ass, he’s not in control of himself. and honestly? he doesn’t know you that well enough yet. he can’t let that be your first impression of him. though on the other hand, those puppydog eyes are annoyingly effective. eventually, he decides,

“fine, but mouth only. no fingers until at least the second date. please.”

you smile and nod, “deal!”

and you happily lap away at his hole, vibing to the sounds of his embarrassed whimpering.

[snurtsnurtcreations]

The Ghost in the Moors

Johnny Mactavish x Simon Riley x Reader

Hey y'all, enjoy my most recent, incredibly persistent brainworm that's resulted in this word vomit. Heavily heavily inspired off the vibes of The Secret Garden and Jane Eyre

Warning: I wrote a sad ending for this one. Major character death y’all, so watch out.

The distinguishable gentleman Mactavish has at long last taken a wife. His heart is not truly in the marriage, but that is perfectly understandable for a man of his standing in high society. (He’s never been so listless before his dearest friend, Simon Riley, died- but those are just the whispers of his staff). He is not cruel or particularly dismissive of his wife, but… it is clear he does not care much for you either.

Not minding much, you take on the duties of the estate admirably. The staff all respect you greatly, and you find fulfillment in many a task surrounding the care of the grounds. Regrettably, however, you do end up falling in love with your husband from the glimpses of him that you get interacting with the staff, with animals, with children… You’d wanted to avoid catching feelings for him when you knew from the get-go that this was a marriage of convenience, but there is a true goodness in him and a charm just past the deep gloom that settles on his countenance.

The thing is though, the Mactavish estate holds a secret. Late at night one might hear a haunting howling. On the dreariest of days, when the fog lies thick and curling over the moors, you’d swear there was a dark presence wandering the grounds. And no one dared enter the abandoned walled-off garden. There is great evil brewing there, the staff would say. It was never particularly dangerous before that one night that… oh, well, they really shouldn’t say.

You start trying to investigate into this mystery. How could it be that there is a whole garden, a plot of considerable size, that no one had access to? What is it that all the staff are nervously tipping-toeing around saying? And why are all past accounts of an energetic and joyous Johnny so false in the face of the cold, impassive character in the present day?

One stormy day, they take in a group of people passing by to provide them some refuge until the storm passes. One of them, an old woman, confidently claims there is a ghost in their midst. The crack of lightning and thunder immediately following her statement does not lend itself well to the doubt of such a statement. Neither does the nervous silence of the staff. Johnny, however, is adamant that such talk is nonsense.

Later, you take the old woman aside, and ask more about what led her to such a conclusion earlier. The old lady just pats your hand and cheerfully says, “Because I am a witch, dearie- I have a sensitivity to these sorts of things.”

You decide far be it from you to question an old lady, but ultimately you do not take much stock in her words. (Though, you make note in your mind, you may not believe it to be true, but you certainly don’t believe it entirely false either…)

You spend your days occupied with the goings-on of the estate, but occasionally you go for a walk around the grounds, reveling in the feeling of being surrounded by rolling hills and nothing but moorland and some sheep in the distance.

A horse comes galloping down the road, and the rider brings it to a full stop as he nears you, the horse rearing it’s head at the suddenness, it’s hooves clipping against the ground anxiously. It’s Johnny. He seems surprised to see you.

“What are ya doing all the way out here, my lady?”

“Simply out for a stroll, my lord.” You answer, confused.

“Is that where you’ve been disappearing for hours? You’ve got all the staff on edge.”

“My apologies, my lord, I hadn’t meant to-“

“Just let them know when you go out next, is all.” And that concludes the conversation. His expression hardly changes as he gallops back out to whatever business he must attend to.

His back and forth attitude confuses you. Just this morning you saw him jump up from the breakfast table to go see to an injured lamb on his property, but now here with you he is cold and impassive.

Still you make attempts to connect with him, and dutifully continue doing your countess tasks.

When one day you ask Johnny on an evening stroll about the garden, what starts as an innocent question becomes a full blown argument as he gets increasingly more upset and angry at you. You cannot for the life of you understand what is making him so irritated about it- you just wanted to know more about this garden!

“Fine! You wish to know about the garden? Let me show you the garden.” He snarls in his fit of rage and grabs you by the wrist. You stumble after him as he stomps to the walled garden, brushes aside the vines to reveal a door and lock that you would otherwise have never known was there. He pulls a key off a chain around his neck and slams the lock open, yanking you into the garden.

The thing is, the sun is setting, the sky darkening rapidly- likely due to the dark clouds brewing on the horizon, inching closer and closer with the strong winds. You are entirely uneasy. The last thing you’d wanted was to see this garden in such conditions, with Johnny in such a rage. For the first time in your stay here, Johnny’s made you truly afraid as he guides you deeper into the garden. You softly plead for him to stop, to slow down, but your pleas seem to fall on deaf ears.

The garden is so large it’s practically a forest of its own. The plants are so overgrown, the bushes towering over you may as well be walls, and the vines and roots taking over the ground seem to make it their mission to trip you up. Already you have lost sight of where the door was.

“Here. Here is the god damned garden.” He says as he tugs you even deeper into the foliage. Your foot snags on a root, and this time you fall to the ground. Your fall causes him to pause a few steps ahead, and you wonder if it might have pulled him out of his episode. But then he turns to you with a manic grief-stricken glint in his eyes, spreading his arms out demonstrably. “Is this what you wanted to see so badly? The ruined remains of whatever good I’d had?” Johnny roars.

You can only stare up at him, teary-eyed and confused. He opens his mouth to say more, but the wind makes a whisper noise akin to what you’d swear sounded like someone saying “Johnny…”. Both your heads snap towards the sound. You see nothing but the swaying branches, but Johnny’s sharp inhale has you turning back to him. His face is pale as you have never seen it before, mouth agape, eyes wide.

“No, no…” He whispers. Never had you seen such deep terror in anyone’s face. Just as you are about to ask what is the matter, he turns and sprints away as though he had all the hounds of hell on his tail.

“Johnny!” You shout in alarm, but by the time you have risen to your feet, he is already out of sight. You run in the same direction he took, but it is difficult to navigate the garden, especially now that the sun is gone and darkness coats everything. Branches slap painfully against your face whilst your hands are busy hiking up your skirts, so you drop one side to shield your head. “Johnny!” You shout again, with a growing panic as you realize you don’t know where he went or where you should go to exit the garden.

Nothing answers back except the howling of the wind.

You come to a complete stop. You cannot even hear any sound of Johnny’s movements. Looking around provides you with no clues for where to go. Your breath hitches, but you bite down your panic and steel your nerves.

“Alright,” you mumble to yourself, “alright, no need to panic. I must simply find one of the walls and follow it until I reach the door.” With your newfound inkling of bravery, you set off in one direction, attempting to keep as straight a line as you can with the bushes and trees in the way. A nearby owl taking off nearly makes you jump in fright, but you push onward. Just as you reach a wall, setting a hand on the stone bricks with triumph, the first drop of rains hits your nose.

Your spirits take a swan dive as the heavens open up a torrent of downpour. You try to hurry along the wall, but it is difficult to do when there are huge swathes of overgrown plants that you must find a way to step around, then find the wall again. It is only when it starts to rain so hard that you can’t keep your head up without droplets obscuring your vision that you decide to perhaps wait it out a little. You find the largest tree within your limited line of sight and hug yourself close near its trunk. Underneath the canopy of the tree, the rainfall is lessened, allowing you to see just how hard it is raining outside the cover of the leaves. You let yourself sink down to the ground when shivers start to wrack your form and the rain shows no signs of easing up.

You sniffle miserably. If you let a few tears loose, well, who would be any the wiser whether the droplet down your cheek originates from the sky or your eye?

“I’m so stupid.” You murmur despondently, “Never should have brought it up in the first place.”

But you still when it feels as though a hand is wiping your tears. You turn to the source and see- nothing. And yet the warmth along your cheeks is undeniable. Some unseen hand slides down your hair and settles a warm, warm palm against the back of your neck. Your breath is caught in your throat, your eyes searching for someone who is not there.

“Don’t give up…” A voice whispers, “Take care of him.”

You blink the tears from your eyes, wiping the remaining wetness off your cheeks.

“Alright.” You take a steadying breath, “I- I will.” And your voice carries true conviction, because truth be told, you would have kept taking care of Johnny either way, for your love for him runs deep, even though today has not been the first time you’d thought perhaps it shouldn’t run so deep.

An approving hum, and then a feeling akin to being embraced. You allow the warmth to seep into your skin, to chase your doubts away, your hands hovering in uncertainty.

“Who… who are you?” You whisper. The warmth pulls away.

“Only a ghost.” Is all the answer you get. Then there is a distinct emptiness in the air, and you feel as though whatever presence was here has left now, yet you still ask,

“But what is your name?”

No answer.

You rise and look around. The rain is not as heavy as it was before. You set back off to follow the wall, when you hear an anxious voice calling your name from somewhere within the walls of the garden.

“I’m here!” You answer. Soon Johnny emerges through the foliage, looking entirely guilty, but relieved to have found you. He hurriedly wraps a cloak around you.

“I’m so sorry, my lady, I- I never should have brought you here, let alone have had the impudence to leave you in the dark unaccompanied- I am truly- truly sorry.” He stumbles over his words, worried eyes examining your form.

“It’s… it’s alright, my lord” You let him wrap your hand round his elbow and lead you out of the gardens. Despite the darkness and overgrowth, it seems he knows exactly where he’s going. “You looked terrified when you fled- what was it that sent you away in such a hurry?”

“Perhaps that old woman was right.” He says in a hushed tone, like a confession, “For a moment, I could have sworn I’d… seen a ghost.”

As you approach the door to the garden, you think it could very well be true- in the corner of your eye you catch sight of the large ghostly form of a scarred man, fading in and out of reality.

Following that day, you keep your promise to the ghost, caring for Johnny in whatever ways you can, making sure everything in the estate runs smoothly, having food be brought up to him when he misses his lunches, being a comforting presence in the evenings in the library when the fire runs low and it is obvious he is restless with the silence of the house.

He has even begun speaking to you a little about his past, which you’d like to think is because he’s warming up to you, but rationally you reason it is more likely because he still feels guilty for his actions that day. Sometimes he speaks of his old friends, men he had served in the military with when the war had been ongoing. Once he’d confessed that the garden was a gift to his old love. You hadn’t pried, but you could tell this old love of his was still enduring to this day, his face struck with grief as he spoke of it. He’d soon excused himself to retire for the night, as though suddenly remembering it’s you he was speaking to.

During one peaceful evening, you had gently asked permission to restore the garden. He had seemed uneasy with the idea, but then schooled his expression to appear nonchalant, and shrugged you off with a “sure, why not?”. His reaction had almost made you take back the offer, but then your mind flashed back to the ghost, and you felt in your bones that it would be better in the long run to set the garden back to it’s former glory, in honor of whoever it had been initially made for.

It became your personal little pet project. You did not include the staff in this effort, your gut warning you against it, as though the inclusion of others would somehow desanctify the garden. So bit by bit every day, you would go in and weed and trim and do what you could on your lonesome. Many evenings you’d be found in the library reading up on gardening books, and often you’d question the local farmers on plant caretaking - you would have asked the gardener of your estate, but it turns out you didn’t have one. The staff had told you Johnny had never bothered replacing the previous gardener. When you’d asked what happened to the previous one, they all fell silent.

There were days you knew you were not alone in the garden as you tended to the plants and cleared pathways. Somehow you could always tell when the ghost would come to join you, unseen though he was. Sometimes his eyes digging into the back of your neck, other times his hands brushing some plants away to reveal your misplaced trowel.

Eventually, perhaps once it became clear to him that this isn’t some passing fad but a permanent routine for you, he begins conversing with you. Just small quips at first, a ‘that one’s a weed’ here, a ‘don’t trip’ there. You always respond with a thank you, and try valiantly not to pry with all your burning questions. As time goes on he speaks more. He has a habit of telling you silly jokes (ones a proper lady probably ought not to laugh at) that have you giggling while you’re weeding. Oftentimes he starts talking about a specific plant and how best to care for it. You listen closely, enraptured by his vast knowledge, and even start bringing a journal to write down notes. (Sometimes he huffs out a laugh when you write something down with wide eyes, though you’re uncertain whether that was actually a laugh or just a gust of wind sweeping over your hair). On especially foggy days, you can nearly see him fully- which you’d think would be counter-intuitive, but it is almost as though the fog lends him form. It does not last long though, only a flicker and then he is a disembodied voice once more.

Every once in a while, you hear Johnny approaching the garden door while you are inside. The ghost always falls silent when it happens, and it feels as though all three of you are holding your breath. But always Johnny pauses by the door, stands for but a minute, and retreats back. The ghost becomes much more reserved after Johnny leaves, not joking any more nor speaking as much. It takes a few day’s time before he opens up again.

Sometimes, though rarely, you admit to the ghost how deeply in love you are with Johnny. He answers with a knowing chuckle, saying “He’s easy to love.” The ghost will let you wax on poetic about little moments that made the yearning in your heart pulse like a blooming bruise. How he handled a tough situation with the servants, treating them fairly and compassionately. How he scaled up a tree in town to get a farmer’s cat down, effortlessly climbing up the branches and gently cradling the cat. The way he looked at you over dinner with those piercing eyes of his, how the light catches in them so handsomely. The ghost only sighs wistfully, as if he shared your yearning all the same.

“But I know he dislikes me.” You confess, “He still longs for his old love, the one he built this garden for, and resents me for taking the place of his beloved. I feel he wishes he had never met me, let alone married me.”

“Don’t say such things,” The ghost answered sternly, “Though he is swallowed by grief, he still cares deeply for you.”

You didn’t believe him, but you let him have the last word, returning to your work.

When not gardening or taking care of the estate or watching out for Johnny, you start an even more private project- researching into who the previous gardener was. The servants’ hush when you had asked about a gardener piqued your curiosity- it felt like the first real clue to solving the estate’s mystery. You tried finding records of why he isn’t in the estate any longer, or even simply records of his employment, but there seemed to be no trace, not even a name. Either the records had been destroyed or Johnny kept them locked away- and the last thing you wanted was to send Johnny into a rage again for prying. (You may have forgiven him, but the mind does not forget so easily- just the mere thought of overstepping made you incredibly uncomfortable- and he never acted that way with anyone else, so, really, it’s you who was the problem. Perhaps his dislike of you is more than that, perhaps it is a hatred?)

You reach a disheartening stopping point in your research when you can find no more. That is, until Duke Price and Lord Garrick give your husband a visit. They are some of the old military friends Johnny’d spoken of previously. Entertaining your guests in the parlour, the topic of your work in the garden is brought up. A somber hush falls over the men. A true tragedy the gardener met his demise, they say, he was a good man. One of the best. They pour out a drink for their fallen friend. Johnny asks that you give them a moment of privacy, so you oblige. (Heavy-hearted though you may be).

You learn his name that day. Simon Riley.

Later, you are hesitant to bring it up in the garden, but… you are burning up with questions, and perhaps, perhaps this once, the ghost might answer.

“Do you know…” you begin hesitantly, but stop uncertainly. He hums for you to continue, so you gather together whatever scraps of bravery you have, “Did you know the previous gardener of this place? A Mr. Simon Riley?”

The air grows still, a tense silence falling over the area. Then,

“Of course I knew him.” The ghost says, his voice soft and sorrowful. An invisible hand tucks a hair behind your ear, “For he and I are one and the same.”

You take in a sharp inhale. Your hands twist the fabric of your skirts.

“May I call you by your name, then?” You ask quietly.

His answer is whisper-soft, a shuddering concession, “Yes.”

“Simon. Simon Riley…” You say it slowly, enjoying the way his name rolls off your tongue. And then his form fades into view like never before. Still slightly transparent, but now he is here, directly in front of you, and so close, so close you could reach out and cradle his face, and his eyes, oh his eyes, they are so full of longing and woe. “You are… beautiful…” You breathe.

He flinches, taken aback, eyes wide.

“You can… see me?” He asks, astonished. You can only nod in response.

He refuses to answer any more of your questions that day, and instead waits to see how long this bout of visibility lasts for. From that day forward, you can see him at all times, though some days greater than others. Some days he is barely an outline against the garden walls, and other days you can see him as clearly as if he were alive and real. Those days it is only your hand phasing straight through his body when you try to set a palm on his shoulder that breaks the illusion.

Since he will not answer your questions, you turn to other means, now armed with a name. You look through public records, and find a cemetery with his name, and then an obituary that stated he had died in a fire. You shudder at the thought of it, pained on his behalf. What a horrid way to go. But there are no further details on what caused the fire nor where it had happened. Was it on the battlefield? Was it in the grounds of the estate?You find no further details.

You return to gardening and your countess duties.

There finally comes the day that Johnny approaches the garden door and instead of leaving, creaks the door open. Your conversation with Simon had fallen silent the moment you heard Johnny’s steps once more, but when the door had opened, you and Simon exchanged a surprised, excited glance.

Johnny stood within the doorway, looking around with equal parts amazement and heartache, his eyes wide, his brow furrowed. It made you suddenly realize just how much progress you’d made after all this time. The garden looked nothing like when you’d first seen it on that dark night. The flower beds were thriving, the bushes cut back to a respectable size, the vines no longer encroaching plants and pathways but rather providing a delightful contrast to the other foliage. Deeper in the garden there were still pathways overgrown, but for now you had completed a commendable amount of work.

A couple steps in, and Johnny was turning his head this way and that to take it all in.

“Good afternoon, my lord.” You greeted him.

“Good afternoon, my lady.” He parroted back. “You… really have been busy in here.”

“Yes, I’ve grown quite fond of the garden. I hope I have done it justice, though I have not seen it in its golden days.”

“You’ve done… remarkably well in restoring it.” Johnny murmurs. “It looks almost… like…” He trails off.

“Like…?” You echo. He shakes his head, as though breaking from a reverie.

“It looks almost identical.” He says, but you feel like that is not quite what he meant to say initially. While his attention is elsewhere, you exchange a look with Simon. Simon seems quite familiar with Johnny, and perhaps what Johny might have meant, shaking his head wryly.

That leads you to wonder why Johnny can’t seem to see Simon. If he saw the ghostly figure besides you, surely he would have said something? If it was Simon that had made him flee the garden that first evening here, would it not stand to reason that Johnny knows something about Simon’s demise, and is perhaps more qualified than you to be able to see his ghostly form?

But Johnny says nothing, and his eyes never stop on Simon as he glances around.

“It’s… good to see the place be put in order.” He says primly, then moves to leave, “I will see you at dinner, my lady.”

You say your goodbyes and watch as he makes a swift exit. You and Simon listen as his footsteps become more and more distant. Then you crumple in on yourself.

“Ohhh, he hates it, he hates what I’ve done to it.” You bemoan miserably. “I’ve besmirched the memory of his lover and now he despises me all the more.”

“What! Are you daft?” Simon exclaims, “That was him saying thank you, stilted though it may be.”

“Don’t lie to me, Simon, you saw him! You heard his tone! I am an imposter in this garden, in this household, and he will never accept my being here.”

Simon grips your shoulders, meeting your gaze seriously, and it is the first time you have ever seen him look so angry.

“Don’t you dare speak that way. You, you shining, quaking thing, you belong here most of all. He cares for you, I know it.”

“No you don’t, no you don’t. You don’t see us in the house, Simon, you don’t see our dinners- he barely speaks to me aside from polite conversation and those few times he’s had a drink and forgets that it is me he is speaking to. There are times he looks at me and I can tell, it isn’t me he is seeing, not really.”

No matter how much Simon swears up and down that you’re wrong, nothing he says can change your mind. You depart the garden that day with a heavy heart, feeling as though you had said far too much to Simon, added onto his already heavy burden with your own trifling sorrows.

Weeks go by and nothing really changes. The sun sets and rises, the skies continue to be plagued by grey clouds, the heather blooms purple over the moorland. You busy yourself with the garden and making preparations for your head maid to visit some family, which meant reworking certain schedules, and Johnny busies himself with the business and the farmers in the area.

Then one day you happen upon a tattered letter. It slips out of an old book you had reached for in the library. The book had looked worn and well-loved, so you had reached for it out of curiosity, when out dropped a lone letter.

You read over it once, twice, thrice… then sank into the window seat with a hand over your mouth and wept, eyes tracing the words over and over again.

It was a letter addressed to Simon, from Johnny. There was evidence of old tears on the paper. The shaky strokes of the pen were visible in every word- every word a confession of love and regrets. Every other word was an apology. Sorry for leaving Simon in that town alone, sorry for not getting to the burning building fast enough, sorry for not confessing his love properly while he was alive. An account of all the sweet moments the two had that he would miss forevermore, and a single final ‘I love you’ finishing off the letter.

The dots all connected in your mind then. The love they shared, the garden that was built, the yearning glances and longing sighs- the burning house, the deep regrets, the haunting, the listlessness. It was a vivid picture painted in your mind, and suddenly you wanted nothing more than for there to be some happy ending for them. Your heart ached for their love story cut short, burned with your love for them.

You tried to compose yourself and set the letter back into the book, but then your eye caught on the inscription on the cover page of the book.

‘To my dear Johnny, I may not be the best with words, but I would borrow from all the poets in the world if only to see your smile.’

You stifle the sudden sob that bubbles up your throat, and flip through a couple pages of the book- all of it lovingly annotated, certain phrases underlined, notes in the margins of some pages. You gently, ever so carefully, fold the book closed and set it back in its place on the shelf.

That night all you can do is weep for the two.

But surely there must be something you can do? Simon may be a ghost but he is still here- that has to count for something, right? But then might he disappear if his regrets are laid to rest? You’ve read somewhere that ghosts are only souls that have unfinished business in the world of the living… You do not know enough about the supernatural to say anything for certain.

So you track down the old woman who’d first said there’s a ghost in the estate. She said she is a witch, did she not? Surely she might have some solution, something that could help? When you reach her little cottage and tell her all that has happened, all you have learned, you are not quite as composed as you’d thought you would be, instead kneeling at her side and telling your tale like a beseeching child, with tears sliding down your cheeks. The old lady strokes your hair comfortingly.

“Oh, my child… there is little that can be done when one is dead.” She says regretfully, “There is a balance in life, you see? One cannot bring back a life without giving something back in return of equal measure.”

You glance up sharply, eyes wild.

“A life for a life, then? It is possible?” You ask. The old woman is taken aback.

“Well, yes, but…”

“I could turn in my life for Simon’s? They could be happy together again?”

“It is… possible. But, child, what of your happiness?” She asks earnestly. You pause, contemplate. Then shake your head, determined.

“I would be overjoyed to see them reunite. That is my happiness.”

And so the plan is hatched. The witch needs some items of import to make the spell work, which you are able to obtain with some sneaking around. The difficult part is the spell must be done where the ghost’s presence is tethered. You aren’t certain where that may be until she starts asking where you tend to see Simon most often and where is his form most sturdy and visible. Then it becomes obvious to you it must be in the garden, so the issue lies in sneaking her out to garden with everyone none-the-wiser.

In the few days leading up to the spell, you become more withdrawn. Simon catches on quickly to the change, but chooses to let you keep your secrets. To your surprise, Johnny also seems to notice a difference in you, and unlike Simon, he is persistent in trying to figure out what might be the matter. With each passing day it becomes more and more difficult to brush him off.

But soon the night of the ritual is upon you. You sneak out of the house in your silky gown with naught but a single candle, and meet the old woman near the entrance to the garden.

Simon is instantly upon you, questioning and inquisitive as the witch sets everything up.

“What… what is this?” His face is grim.

“I’m bringing you back, Simon.” You answer lightly. His eyes widen at the realization as the witch starts chanting, cutting your palm open.

“No. No, stop this immediately!” He reaches for you, to pull you away, or push you back, but his hands phase right through you. It is one of the nights his form is weakest, and you’d purposely chosen today for that reason. “Don’t you dare. I need you here- we need you!”

You only send him a soft, doleful smile, taking a vial from the witch’s basket.

Panic sets on his face as he realizes he cannot stop you. His ghostly form disappears entirely, and part of you is glad you will not have to see the pain in his eyes when you go.

Simon had gone to get the aid of the only one who’d be able to stop you. He used all his strength to appear before Johnny, who’d been at his desk, writing ‘neath the candlelight. Johnny startles and watches, mouth agape, as Simon shouts at him to save you, that you’re in the garden, about to die.

That gets Johnny up and sprinting down the stairs and out to the garden, his shirt billowing in the window, his hair askew. Simon is right behind him, though his form fades in and out of existence. They burst into the garden, footsteps skidding on the dirt.

They are too late.

Johnny grips Simon’s arm in his shock, chest heaving, and Simon’s frame is sturdy, solid, alive as he supports him. Your body is still and motionless on the ground, your face pale, lips parted, eyes open but unseeing. The moon illuminates the scene, an unwilling witness to the tragedy that has befallen.

Simon sinks to his knees while Johnny cradles your limp body. There is nothing they can do but weep.

[lolathelooptyloop]

oh, i've never done it, let's make it cinematic.

summary: galinda convinces elphaba to listen to "the rise and fall of a midwest princess" for the first time. lesbianism ensues. modern au where shiz is an all-girls university and green-skinned people exist because i said so.

warnings: nothing it's literally just pure fluff. really really short though and possible ooc (?)

a/n: my first official writing on this blog, woohoo!! shoutout to @the1701trekkie for giving me the idea for this fic, the brainworms got to me and i had to write it. you get full credit for the idea. :) sorry it's so short, i didn't have the energy to write anything more and i also have to clean today so this is like my way of avoiding it. enjoy my procrastination!!

"So I've noticed you don't listen to a lot of music,"

Elphaba looked up from her desk. She had been working on a biology essay for the past two hours, and it was starting to get frustratingly old. She had hit a wall in the writing process. Plus, she never liked biology. She only took the class to "expand her horizons", and the majors asked far too many questions about the color of her skin.

So when Galinda suddenly sat up from her place on her fluffy pink bed and issued one of her out-of-nowhere Galinda decrees, it was a welcome distraction.

Elphie raised an eyebrow, tilting her head and pressing her lips together. "I listen to music. I just prefer to have silence when I'm alone with my thoughts, is all. It's good for reflection,"

Galinda sighed, throwing herself back on her silk pillowcases like a faint rennaissance maiden. "Ugh, reflection this, thinking that, it's so quiet in here!! I'm bored out of my mind, Elphie!" When Elphaba rolled her eyes, the blonde girl backtracked, calming herself ever so slightly.

"Well, I mean, I don't mean to offend you. I do think it's really cool that you can be so... scholarific?"

"Scholarly," Elphaba corrected.

"Yes, that!!" Galinda grinned. "It's just... You seem like you stress out a lot, and you don't really know any songs when we go to parties, and, well, there's this artist named Chappell Roan that I personally really enjoy and I thought that maybe you could also... appreciate the themes of her music...?" Galinda was bright red now, as if she'd tread into territory that she wasn't sure she was allowed in but really wanted to explore. Elphie couldn't for the life of her figure out why.

Swayed by her apparent flusteredness, the green skinned girl stood up from her wooden work desk and walked across the room, taking a seat across from her bubbly counterpart. "Alright." Elphaba nodded. "I guess I do need a break from doing that awful essay... play me a song, Miss Popular,"

Galinda practically danced to the edge of the bed, flouncing down next to Elphie and squealing excitedly. "Oooh, I knew you'd come through!!" She smiled and angled her head towards Elphaba's, blonde ponytail tickling the other girl's shoulder. "I think you'll really like Chappell, Elphie, her music is so fun, and, like I said, I thought maybe you could relate to some of it."

There it was again. That slight anxiety from Galinda, like she was pushing some sort of boundary. Elphaba found it quite interesting. The two had long moved on from their freshman year feud, and had moved into an easy friendship, Galinda bringing excitment into Elphaba's life and Elphie balancing out her intensity. It didn't make sense for either girl to be this nervous about anything. They were friends, that was it. Still, there were moments, like this one, where Elphaba wondered if maybe Galinda was trying to ask her something, dropping hints at another sort of interest...

"Ah, here it is!" Galinda pulled up an album on Spotify, displaying an image of a red-haired girl in a teal dress and drag makeup for Elphie to see. Elphaba gave her head a tiny shake, pushing any thoughts of her and Galinda's relationship out of her mind.

"...I like her dress," She commented.

Galinda swooned, pressing the phone to her heart and kicking her feet against the side of the bed. "Ugh, she's a fashion icon!"

Elphaba sighed and gave her friend another well-timed eye roll, but she had to admit that Galinda's enthusiasm was cute. Nothing could get that girl to stop being her loud, showy self. It was what Elphie loved about her.

"Let's get down to business!!" Galinda popped back up to sitting and placed the phone between them like a holy relic. "Lets," Elphie agreed.

The green play button was hit, Galinda's giggles thwarted, and within a few seconds the first notes of "Femininomenon" were filling up the dorm. It was bouncy and energetic, a campy 80s beat mixed with fun lyrics. Elphaba, who had fully intended to dislike whatever songs Galinda was going to play, found herself smiling slighty, moving her head to the beat. Galinda noticed. She didn't say anything, but the sparkle in her eyes spoke volumes.

By the time they made it to "California", both girls were on their feet, fingers interlaced as they swayed back and forth to the music in a low-effort attempt at slow dancing.

"This is nice!" Elphie laughed, her voice coming out louder than she meant it to. "It's fantabulous!!" Galinda agreed. "I'm so glad you like it!"

She went to pull Elphie into a dip, but tripped over her own feet and ended up pulling them both into an awkward half-hug. Elphaba stopped short, suddenly aware of just how close they were to each other, just how tired she probably looked in her black and white striped pajamas and no glasses, just how pretty Galinda was in her hot pink velvet minidress with her glossy lips inches from Elphie's. Her hand rested on the side of Galinda's waist. Their eyes met, brown staring into green, and for one intense moment, their heads dipped towards each other.

Then the moment was over and they were both pulling away, clearing their throats and pressing their hands into their sides. 'Um, yeah," Elphie coughed. "I really like listening to it," Galinda nodded. "She's a great artist.

Maybe it was "Guilty Pleasure" playing softly in the background, or maybe it was the adrenaline from dancing, or the soft shine in Galinda's brown eyes, but Elphie suddenly felt a tiny spur of confidence, something that gave her the courage to make eye contact with Galinda and say, "But mostly I liked being around you."

Galinda blinked. There was an odd look on her face, and for a moment Elphie was afraid that she had gone too far and blown their entire friendship. She was just about to apologize and take it back when the other girl spoke.

"I mostly liked being around you, too!"

Elphie smiled.

Galinda smiled back.

It was the first time they allowed themselves to think about someday being more than friends.

[hiccupshypotheticalleftsock]

got hugely major voltron brainworms again. i havent gone a day not thinking about that stupid fucking show since september of last year. i fear this hyperfixation may be terminal.

[noswordinourlake]

I described Liu Qingge as a Barber's "Adagio for Strings" background music man living in a majority "Yakety Sax" bgm world in a response to a fic comment a few days ago now which I do stand by and think is LARGELY true but it's also made me think about my bgm theme headcanons for other SVSSS characters. So here's a list. These are all, of course, Objectively Correct and True*:

(*For certain values of "objective", "correct", and "true")

Liu Qingge: Barber's "Adagio for Strings". I started the post with this one so I'm starting the list with him. The stereotypic Romantic Yearning Orchestral Strings. He's a classic tragic romantic hero stuck in satirical porn world. Free him.

Shen (Yuan) Qingqiu: In general, "If I Ever Feel Better" by Phoenix. Post-Abyss it's undeniably "Youth" by Daughter, because it's both a sad sack song and "shadows settle on the place that you left/ our minds are troubled by the emptiness" is the SY Post-Abyss manifesto. Post-Maigu Ridge you could probably give him any sappy love song but I like The Magnetic Fields' "The Book of Love". Thematic!

Luo Binghe: Pre-Abyss there are sooo many options, but I'm choosing "Mr Blue Sky" by the Electric Light Orchestra for how much it'd make Ming Fan want to punch him if he could hear it. Post-Abyss/Dirt Nap Era you'd think "Boa Constrictor" by the Magnetic Fields would be a Zhuzhi-lang pick but haha nooo this is a Binghe song 100%. Post-Maigu Ridge I think "Hold on When You Get Love And Let Go When You Get It" by Stars but I'm willing to hear arguments here.

Ming Fan: The idea that Ming Fan is the only one that can hear non-diagetic sounds is going to give me a brainworm now. Anyway. His bgm theme is 100% "Not Your Year" by the Weepies.

Ning Yingying: NYY may be my most vibes-based decision but "They Never Got You" by Spoon seems appropriate for the first harem escapee (chronologically).

Yue Qingyuan: "Thrift Shop Warrior" by J. Ralph. That is all.

Tianlang Jun: "Entry of the Gladiators" by Julius Fucik. Because he's a clown. (More seriously, there are a lot of layers in a song about gladiatorial combat being reduced to 'the clown song' and the layers of performance TLJ puts on even in his violence—BUT ANYWAY)

Zhuzhi-lang: "From Eden" by Hozier feels like a gimme but it is also. Deeply applicable.

Shang Qinghua: 24/7 "Yakety Sax" hours.

Mobei Jun: MBJ could be "Ice Ice Baby" by Vanilla Ice for the joke points OR "Under Pressure" by Queen and David Bowie for the characterization points. He has the range 😌

[striveattemptfail]

logan howlett & wade wilson, mild-M, ~1k | spoilers for the dp&w movie. more gen than slash (technically one-sided poolverine on wade's side). rated for sexual themes and cursing thank you to B @broosepayne for the amazing beta and sharing poolverine brainworms with me ❤️🤝💛 any other mistakes are mine read on ao3

Wade’s erection had been pressing into Logan’s crotch for the better part of half an hour.

It was extremely uncomfortable at first, especially with one of the Fantastic Four kids in the corner just waggling his eyebrows at him when he somehow found out. (How? Logan didn’t fucking know.) He could’ve sliced through their bonds—sliced through Wade—with practiced ease but he knew better than to try escaping in the middle of fuck-knows-where when the baddies driving them to fuck-knows-what had a giant magnet to subdue him. Logan didn’t even know where to go if he somehow managed to escape. Better to suss out what the hell he got himself into while he had downtime and two near useless allies with him.

Even if one of them—the most annoying motherfucker alive—was all but grinding on his hip.

He’d been in weird situations like this before. Sometimes a mission meant bunking in tiny places and sharing a bed with multiple men; sometimes adrenaline meant guys got excited while squeezed together in helicarriers and transport vehicles before a take-down; sometimes dicks just got hard from a random breeze. Logan knew that crotches got into places that were awkward, but it was bearable when the majority of his teammates were actively dating women and were definitely not into him.

(He suspected more than a few of them weren’t as straight as they claimed to be, but that wasn’t any of his damn business. He’d given up on naming his own sexuality a century ago; the fuck was he supposed to do with other guys’ confusion? Best to leave them alone to deal with it themselves was his prerogative.)

All to say: Logan had had his fair share of crotches rubbing on him. A man’s hips rhythmically but unconsciously bumping into his outside of sex was not a new experience.

Wade’s constant mumbling while asleep, however, was.

Logan tuned Wade out for the most part, since he was also used to tuning out his teammates’ ramblings—at the very least so he didn’t do something stupid like slice someone’s head off when he disagreed with a plan. (Yes, Scott was often the target of these urges.) Though none of them ever dared to talk about how they had the hots for Logan before dry humping him in their sleep. Frankly, most of them didn’t have the balls to or, if they did, Logan would more than happily castrate them for trying.

So obviously Wade had to be fucking different, and with his boner pressed against Logan for the better part of half a fucking hour while mumbling and whispering nonsense the whole time...

Well.

Even Logan had to wonder what the hell the idiot was dreaming about.

Were they fucking? They had to be, if Wade’s incessant yammering when he was awake was anything to go by. Logan had only known him for a few miserable hours but he was quick to figure out that Wade was very open about his sexual fantasies—especially for those who were in close proximity to him, like Logan. It really wouldn’t be a stretch to assume Wade was dreaming about the two of them bumping uglies.

Now, Logan wasn’t a particularly vain guy, but he knew he was attractive. God knew he used to put the work into his body, even if he did try to sabotage himself by drowning in shitty booze and self-destructive behaviour most days (every day). His healing factor meant he was constantly at peak physique no matter how hard he tried, so he’d long ago accepted that he’d have people leering at him, open and willing with their attraction towards him.

And Wade had been disgustingly open about how attracted he was to Logan. Logan didn’t understand half the shit that left the other man’s mouth—would hate himself more than he currently did if he even tried figuring out what the hell Wade babbled about—but he was very much aware of how horny Wade was for him. It’d probably be flattering for anybody else, being fawned and lusted over with Wade’s brand of enthusiasm, but unluckily for him Logan was not just anybody else. He was somebody stuck with the moron with a mouth, plus heightened senses.

And Jesus fucking Christ did every single one of his senses pick up on Wade’s arousal. Even without hearing the constant spew of bullshit leaving Wade’s face, Logan could smell how turned on he was from miles away. During their earlier fight, before they were interrupted by Victor and his Merry Little Bandits, Logan regrettably saw that Wade didn’t wear a cup and that he enjoyed showing off his growing chub for everyone to see.

Then again, even a human without an animalistic mutation could feel Wade’s prick standing at attention against them.

Wade suddenly moaned, a little louder than before, and the Fantastic Four Guy piped up, “Sounds like he’s having a good time, huh?” He waggled his eyebrows again, throwing a smirk in this time.

Logan glared back, eyes cutting and narrowed, a silent shut the fuck up made loud and clear despite not opening his mouth. Fantastic Four Guy rolled his eyes and lifted his bound hands in surrender before looking away.

A groan escaped Wade this time, along with his head lolling around, which meant—thank fuck—he was probably waking up.

Then Wade grumbled, “God of thunder, ngh, eugh—!”

Hrm.

So Wade wasn’t dreaming about him this whole time. The hard-on Logan had been dealing with for thirty whole minutes was because of Thor.

Which meant Logan was trapped in the desert, tied to the most annoying man to ever walk on two legs, and the boner poking at his hip wasn’t even for him.

What a fucking joke.

Pushing away his simultaneous relief and (what the fucking fuck) disappointment, Logan chose to focus on Wade finally waking up.

“How long was I asleep?” Wade slurred.

Logan didn’t hesitate to let his annoyance be known.

“Not all of you was asleep.”

He squinted his eyes and even shot Wade the tiniest, most sarcastic smile. Hopefully the bastard knew that it meant Logan was going to tear him a new one for making him deal with Wade’s annoying dick over goddamn Thor of all people after they dealt with—

—whatever they had to deal with at the end of this ride.

——————————————

(More notes on Ao3.)

[trashcanwithsprinkles]

I, personally, would love to hear about all kinds of details and things that ended up being changed or adjusted from older fics. What were some ideas you had fun with?

oh god

-itysg: many of you might know this one already as it's in an a/n, but i originally entertained the idea of having ajax and zl adopt ruu thanks to some abyssal energy nonsense. i ended up ditching that route bc it would've had to have started when they go to tsurumi? but if you'll remember, ajax then was in no state to support a kid with the magnitudes of baggage that ruu would have at that point, so no.

-cyanide: i don't think there was anything major i ever changed abt cyanide, believe it or not, at least not that i can remember now. the more interesting part abt it is the fact that it got written at all, bc as i was developing wips and seeing which i would pick next, not only was cyanide not my main idea, it was also one in like. twelve. i have SO MANY zhongchi longfic wips. so many. some came up during cyanide and some during babysitting, but a good chunk all sprang up together with cyanide's original draft, so. i had sort of set it aside and was focusing on the True childe suffers fic, but ended up reaching a point there where like. i was kinda following canon. and unlike in the thomato fic that's similar to this wip, i couldn't wrap up childe's situation as swiftly as thoma's, so i started waiting for updates and then that sort of got the fic stuck in a cycle where i know damn well childe's plot in-game is going to be fucking wild and shit kept happening to him (hi inazuma, hi scarascratch, hi fontaine) and i added it to the wip and then i waited for more etc etc. idk. i picked up cyanide as i paused that one and sort of went 'huh ok this one is interesting' i still want to write a beta design childe fic at some point but who knows if i'll ever get around to it (that was the one). i also have a hanahaki wip but the thing is he bribes baizhu to take the flowers out like first scene and the actual plot is emotionless childe navigating all the bs that happens to him while zl tries to figure out when things went so wrong. there's also like two mafia wips that are just variants of each other. there's two mirroring timetravel wips bc i couldn't decide who i wanted to timetravel lmao. there's a different transmigration idea more along the lines of eoos (childe gets into the actual game no weird timeline shenanigans like in cyanide). that's not even the half of it this ship has an absolute chokehold on my writing brainworms.

-jadeite: to elaborate on the previous post which i assume inspired this ask, the first draft of jadeite actually didn't go too far. zl comes to in a hospital in the harbor bc czl had been about to go to a job interview for wangsheng, and as soon as he got to the door and said hi to hu tao a car veered off the street and nearly killed them. czl shoved hu tao out of the way and that's how he dies. originally in the hospital it was gonna be xiangling and xinyan w hu tao bc they came to check on her when shit happened, and they don't really explain much of anything to zl before leaving him. he spends the night in the hospital sort of figuring out how the TV works and going thru the same thought process as in actual jadeite. he gets discharged and is kinda out on his own for a bit (where childe sees him) before ht calls him for the parlor incident. childe isn't present for that in this draft. that's all the first chapter lmaooooo there wasn't all that much after that honestly. a bit of a second chapter and some plot points, but i hadn't thought about it too much (i was writing cyanide at that point). once i came back to it like towards the end of cyanide i sat down and thought through the actual plot and what i wanted to happen and started modifying the first draft into something else, and then i frogged that second draft and the first into what you guys actually got to read

-every good intention: i started writing this immediately after parade of providence and i think you can tell, esp compared to ysmms which was before kaveh's release and therefore before my descent into 'oh god why' territory around his characterization. even before his hangout in 3.7 i could already tell something was off, that final convo on the interdarshan event was like- he's on thin ice now. so i have to confess that i didn't plan to write a third chapter at all. didn't even plan to post it bc it was two chapters of nothing but angst and i figured most people wouldn't care to read it (or might even incur some attack from fandom youngsters). it was going to end with the to-do list and an ambiguous/open end on what happened to alhaitham. but then i couldn't get the brainworms out of my head and i ended up deciding to post it (partly because i was so baffled and disappointed in the fandom about their reaction to that last scene in the interdarshan), but in order to get people to read it, i added the third chapter and the happy ending. one of the bookmarks from someone says something like 'just read the first two chapters' and honestly yeah i never read the last chapter anymore. it was supposed to end at the second, the third is there entirely to appease and entice the to-be audience and going by how many read it compared to two vowels it feels like it actually worked LMAOOOO so yeah let me leave the confession booth now don't shoot me haikavetham shippers i was with you once 😂

[nebula-remnants]

who wants to hear me ramble About a dca au? of course you do

so quick warning it's a sun x moon au/fic in the works. mainly doing this because I need to brainworms OUTTTT so I can temporarily focus on another sun x moon fic I'm working on with my buddy, @alynwrench.

(tiny tid bit from my current rough draft just as a showoff)

"Nonetheless, Show me your thorns, I'll show mine. I can’t promise I'll acknowledge the sharpness of mine nor the way your body withers and spreads its infection. We’ll embrace and till the end of our time we’ll slowly pierce through one another without taking the time to understand why. What starts as a harmless prick will grow until it’s too late to pull apart, too late to take any of it back."

Long have I been absolutely obsessed with psychology and accurately representing different sides to it. this has eventually lead me to where I am now, making a giant ass fic about a silly comfort ship. I've seen the ship interpreted all sorts of ways but when I look at them I see two stubborn and opposing characters that conflict so harshly yet hold the potential to be something truly loving if in the right environment. (COUGH this au is gonna have a lot of angst...)

this Au is going to cover serious topics, and keep a heavy focus on the psychological aspects and needs of a relationship, especially when trauma is introduced. Things are going to get MESSY, but I hope to end it off nicely when the time comes. (to be even more obvious I plan for this to be major hurt/comfort. I won't torture you guys FOREVER, there will be a happy ending. I at least hope that INTERESTS A FEW PEOPLE)

is it gonna stray from canon severely? yeah, but over time i've learned not to care as much. it's fanon made content, all of it strays from canon interpretation in some form. I know I got people's hopes up in the past, but I truly find myself in the middle ground of being obsessed with either side. All I hope is that I represent their personalities accurately enough in a way people can agree, even if it's in a completely different context.

I hope when I finally have everything together and I can share more about it. I kind of wanted whatever I said about this project to be better put together but I guess it's not time for an official introduction yet. I will say to anyone that read this far thank u for listening to me yap teehee, I'm getting really close with a draft I feel like I can finalize. i've been, very critical about this project your honor.

[silvergarnet12]

Splatoon was the first Nintendo game to push me out of my comfort zone of single player games, and with the closure of it's servers I wanted to draw a tribute to a game that really means a lot to me.

Some long rambles about the game under the cut.

When I first played the Global Testfire I was 15, and the only mutliplayer games I played were with friends in the same room.

Splatoon was also the first shooter I ever picked up, as I always liked bright colours over more realistic graphics in my games, and back then the only shooters I knew about were Halo(and that was only really a name to me!) and the CoD games.

Any worries I had about being bad quickly vanished as the sheer vibe of chaotic fun the game had, particularly when no one had played it before, got rid of any worries, and all I remember is having fun. And choosing to play as the guy instead of the girl for the first time, solely becuase I wanted a ponytail like in real life(I would continue to use the guy through the series as a tradition, a contrast to what I saw most people online doing).

When the game came out I binged the single player, and vividly remember the first time I fought DJ Octavio, and the first time I heard Calamari Inkantation. If ever a game was to convince me that a song could irreversibly change your life, it was Splatoon. Because to teenage me, in that moment, with Calamari Inkantation playing in the background while I fought an octupus DJ, it did.

It gave me terminal brainworms for this series. And here I am, 8 yrs later. Older and more tired, been through some shit, had some good times, tried, succeeded and failed in things throughout the years.

I've always been grateful that they made the decision for the player character from 1 to return, everytime they've shown up it's felt a bit like seeing an old friend, especially since as the games time skips have always had them close to my age(which probably helped my attachement back in the first game). So hi Three, can't believe we both probably pay taxes now.

I have the original two Inkling Amiibos, in a collection that is slowly building, I'm still attached to Marie, and yes I was on her team for the Final Splatfest.

I cried when it was over, just like I did in 2's Final Fest(I was team chaos, two for two baby!) and will probably do so for 3's as well. Something about this series just makes me super attached to it's world and characters.

So booyah Splatoon, my final online game of yours was well and truly years ago, but I replayed story mode to share you with a friend recently, and I think I'll refight Octavio tonight in honour of the good times.

You encouraged me to try out games I wouldn't have otherwise(hello Overwatch and Deep Rock Galactic), and outlasted one of the other major games of my teenage years(...Overwatch 1 I miss you). So thank you for that.

I'll miss Squid Jump, Inkstrike, the og kit for the NZap 89(why does it's new one not vibe with me ;-;), the Squid Sister's broadcasts and the more saturated colours. At least I can always return to the Plaza in 3, and that Spyke isn't dead like I was concerned he was when 3 released, and see the Squid Sisters perform during Splatfests again.

I have so much more to say in my heart about you but no more ways to word it.

You've been a fantastic game, and will always be a treasured experience that I am grateful to have been a apart of from the very beginning.

Now bring back Moray Towers in 3 damn it! It's in 2 but I DON'T WANT TO LOSE MY FAVOURITE STAGE IF IT"S NOT IN 4.

[vio-lets]

Me evilly convincing people to like various ships through fun fic recs <3 pt 1- tdbk

Okay uhh most of these are going to be for MHA because when the MHA hyperfixation hits, it hits HARD-- but I'm going to rec a handful of fics from HP and Haikyuu, too.

Todobaku - I actually got into this pairing pretty recently! I think mid to late November of last year? So I'm definitely late to the party, but that's okay. It's hard to put into words exactly what I love about this ship, but it really comes down to how well they work together, and how fun their dynamic is!

This may sound crazy, especially if you've read this fic, but the first fic I'm putting in this section is Bakugou and Todoroki's Foolproof 5-Step Plan to Fuck with Mineta Minoru by anubisisms (Teen, Completed, 37k words). To make this clear-- it's not a Todobaku fic, at least not in any romantic capacity. It is, however, the fic that first made me want to look more into the pairing. It's overall a hilarious fic, which you can probably gauge from the title, and has a lot of focus on the companionship between Bakugou and Todoroki. If you don't understand the ship, as I once didn't, and want to start with a platonic fic-- this would be great for you! In general it's just a great fic. I blanket rec most things by this author, though I haven't read everything of theirs. Also,, in this both Todoroki and Bakugou are with different people, but it's not a major part of the story imo. Still resulted in me shipping them lol.

This next one is a bit different from the first, and it's ALSO amazing. The fic I'm talking about is @DynamightsShortcake made a new post by haoboutno89 (Explicit, Completed, 16k words). Premise is basically Pro-Hero Shouto secretly runs a Dynamight fan account on Twitter and things get better from there. I definitely have a thing for Crack Treated Seriously and Social Media fics, and this fic perfectly hits both of those marks! When I first read this I was laughing my ass off. I absolutely adore how this fic is written and it definitely helped solidify my love for these two.

To keep my fics diverse, this next one is a bit more angsty-- but it's sweet, I promise. You and Me (Is All I Need) by lurethegalaxy (Teen, Completed, 8k words), is an Established Todobaku future fic that is Shouto-centric, and it's about Shouto not wanting children. This is a heavily introspective fic and explores Shouto's character really well. The relationship between him and Katsuki in this is amazing, too, so I had to include it here.

For this ship specifically, I've been in love with demon/angel dynamics??? Like. I don't often seek out fics like that, but closer to heaven than you'll ever know by kae_karo (Teen, Completed, 15k words) HOOKED me on the concept, and now I can't ever let it go. This one in particular is really unique because it's about Fallen Angel!Shouto and Risen Demon!Katsuki-- which is just, amazing. Shouto has to basically teach Katsuki how to perform miracles. It's sweet and somber and reading it will give you brainworms for at least 3-5 business days, I promise.

I've decided to make the next few fic recs Angel/Demon type-fics and I promise they're amazing and all you've ever wanted just trust me please. take you (for all that you got) by allmus (Mature, Completed, 15k words) is SUCHH an interesting fic omg. I absolutely adore Katsuki in this. They're stuck in purgatory together and have to work as customer service for heaven and hell. kinda. This one's also Demon!Katsuki/Angel!Shouto-- not quite fallen. But they share food!! And if you enjoy Katsuki yelling at Endeavour.. there's a very amusing scene in this fic where that happens. You should read it, trust me it's amazing c:

Ineffable Partners by LostLoveLetters (Explicit, Completed, 30k words) is like Good Omens-esque? I think? I've never watched Good Omens, but that doesn't matter, this fic is amazing either way. Again, Angel!Shouto and Demon!Katsuki, and they work together in this! Y'know that trope where you're so familiar with each other/banter so much like a couple that strangers say you look good together? Yeah. That happens. And trust me when I say that Shouto practicing human negotiation tactics in this will be one of the funniest things you've ever read. The smut veers sliiiiiiightly into monsterfucking, but not really. Either way, if it's not your thing, you can just skip it, since it's towards the end of the fic. All of it's incredibly well written, though, from the humor to the smut. I've read this fic many times. Again, I got into this pairing in November. That's how good it is.

Okay now Counting Stars by Starisia (Mature, Completed, 16k words) is different in that it's Fallen Angel!Shouto and Demon!Katsuki. Well. Katsuki is also a fallen angel, technically, but you'll read about why in the fic. This fic was amazing. The Hurt/Comfort, the Pining, the everythinggg. It is, like, sad. But in a good way I promise. Another one where Katsuki and Endeavour fight, except physically, now. 10/10 fic it's truly lovely.

I'm done with the Angel/Demon fics for nowww... but like, I have read others. If anyone wants a longer list of those. They're sososo good. Anywho. Next fic! bewitched, bothered, bewildered by dinosuns (Teen, Completed, 10k words), who, by the way, has soo many good fics. In this fic, Shouto is a street magician. He doesn't have magic. He's a little pathetic, but like. In a cute way. Katsuki, on the other hand, does have magic. Shenanigans ensue. Ft. supportive friend Izuku. This fic is soo silly and I'm in love with it. It's adorable and fluffy and perfect for when you need a pick-me-up.

This next fic is so warm and there's really no other way to put it. strawberry candies & colorful notes by waywardfacegarden (Teen, Completed, 6k words) (oh wow another great author!!) is just. Lovely. It's filled with pining, nonsense, and it's a secret admirer trope!!! What could be cuter. Truly. The dialogue between the two in this is.. aa!! Shouto is everything to me. Adored this fic <3

My true love gave to me... by alchemicink (Gen, Completed, 5k words) is SUCH a funny fic omg. Picture Christmas time. Shouto's away. He hears the 12 days of Christmas song and deems it peak romance. Katsuki and Ejirou are also roommates in this and it's all so amazing and funny, and we're a bit past the holidays I know, but like. Read it for winter or something idk. Romance exceeds all holidays.

For my last fic on this list-- though I have read many more, believe me when I say that Todobaku has taken over my brain-- I have to put red hearts, red hearts, that's what i'm on by underfallingflowerpetals (Mature, Completed, 1k words), who, by the way, has an INSANE amount of Todobaku fics that are amazing and no I haven't read them all, but I've read a good chunk. So I mentioned I like crack and social media, and this has aspects of both again. It also does have Omegaverse and Age Difference tags mixed in so if that's not your thing that's fair, but I promise this fic is hilarious. The author's summary is better than anything I could ever come up with, so here:

Their number four is in the middle of the street yelling about knotting omega pussy. This, barring the subject matter, is not that unusual on its own, if not for the fact that the number one is about to hurl a ball of scorching fire at him. Or: Dynamight punches Endeavor on live TV. For love.

and, like. If that doesn't sell you, I don't know what will. Oh! The news reporter in this is hilarious. by the way. That could sell you on it. I loved her.

I guess that's all for now? Feel free to ask for more, I've been dying to talk about these two. I might make more rec lists in the future for them, but I definitely want to make some for a few other ships first.