#and it just looked like mutuals all just piled in my inbox at once to confess their love for me. with a LOT of compliments

[lycanthropicture]

hey. youre a wonderful person and very smart and also the best person ever and also so funny AND I LOVE YOU

WOAGH wait a second. hi i love you AND . gets gay at you. hi.

[remmyswritings]

Wow… I haven’t been back here in ages, but for some reason I was in a mood the other night and started to read through some of my old fics and it just lit up something in me and I was like ok I think I’m gonna start writing again.

I don’t know if any of my old mutuals are still on here, so if any of yall stumble upon this post and want to go back on my taglist just like send a note to my inbox I guess.

Also thank you to my wonderful bestie who I actually met originally through the fics I wrote, she was one of my anons and has become a great great friend who I actually get to see in person nowadays and has done me the wonderful privilege of agreeing to be my beta reader, so THANK YOU 💛

Hope you enjoy this fic, I won’t be revealing who it is though hehehe all I’ll say is that it involves a slytherin x reader pairing. as always, any and all feedback/comments are appreciated :)

The old Black house that is 12 Grimmauld Place was not where you were expecting to spend the summer after your fourth year, but then again it’s become hard to have any expectations for anything since Harry had come out of the maze with the news that he was back. And while you understood truly the danger that was to come, you didn’t feel as terrified as you thought you’d be. For the most part, you spent the summer searching all the nooks and crannies the space could offer you, cuddling up in the room that Hermione, Ginny, and you shared, laughing at the antics of the boys or sharing whispers of dreams and secrets shared under the covers. Hoping, maybe even praying, that one night you all would be offered the chance to sit in on that meeting that every adult occupant of the household sat on in the kitchen. Yet, with closeness gained and hearts and minds penetrated you didn’t have the courage to tell them about the one who plagued your thoughts every time you closed your eyes. At least, until Harry finally made it to the doorway.

Something about his anger, about his burning need to understand what was going on, made you pause… your mother knew, of course, you couldn’t not tell her of your closeness with the Slytherin. But something about Molly’s words, about all of you being children still, that you should be able to still be children… the girls at least, maybe they would find some happiness from your words, or at least cherish the last thing that you’d kept locked away from them.

•••

“You two are really lucky you know,” your fingers gripped and stretched the blanket wrapped around your legs, “Everyone that you care for is in this house, and…” your voice starts to falter.

Ginny and Hermione share a look, before devoting their attention to you. Hermione’s lips part first but it’s Ginny’s voice that makes its ways to your ears. “And?”

“And,” your throat tightens slightly as you continue on, “you don’t have to worry about anyone asking questions when we get back to school.” Your eyes drift back down to your fingers, the girls waiting patiently- at least trying to, before they can’t help themselves.

“Are you talking about someone specific?” Hermione’s voice starts slowly, while Ginny’s picks up the pace, “Someone who’s not just a friend?”

You nod, your eyes widening as your whole body just visibly relaxes under their careful gaze.

The silence in the room stills, just for a second, but enough for you to consider your next moves carefully. Nothing in the house disturbs the three of you as you finally shift off the bed, digging deep into your trunk as you pull out the small letter box, and with a nod you take of the lid, letting the contents be shown to people other than yourself.

At first, the girls’ eyes flutter between its contents and you- as you once again settle yourself into your previous position on the bed. A small smile starts to show as your fingers pick up some of the letters, flipping through them slowly until you find what you wanted. Staring at it with a delicate look in your eye, the rest of the pile returns to its rightful place in the box, as your free hand traces the person they’ve yet to see.

“Don’t freak out, please,” the picture’s contents come into view, and although you’d asked, Ginny can’t help the small gasp that comes out of her.

Her and Hermione once again find themselves trading looks, only this time there’s a bewilderment on both their faces. Hermione’s face suddenly turning red as she starts, “… Z-Zabini. You mean to tell us you’re dating Blaise Zabini….” Her voice trails off at the end.

To in shock of the image of Blaise wrapped up next to you, so oblivious in his need to look at you, you’re the only one to catch the picture in progress, they only hear the smack of your face making contact with your hands.

It’s not a violent move and yet, it’s suddenness makes you all look at one another and giggle- rather hysterically if other members of the household were to pass by the room at that moment. And giggle and giggle you do as you start to nod your head at Hermione’s question.

And then it calms once again, only for you to open your mouth, “Well I wouldn’t say we’re dating-” Ginny cuts you off, “What?” You splutter, “I-I mean, I fancy him like a lot, like a bloody lot. And ya sure we went to the Ball together, and he gives me all these looks supposedly, and we go to Hogsmeade together,” your voice rambles on until you pause, your eyes widening as you remember the event that was your goodbye at the station. “and then there was you know when he- well when I- we kissed.”

You stare, the only reminder that time still passes on from the distant sounds of Molly taking control of the kitchen and the stomps of feet going up and down the staircase.

That is until the tidal wave of Hermione’s and Ginny’s voices hit you, as they process your final words, “How can you two not be dating?” “When did this start?” “Actually, when did you even become friends?” “Tell us everything-” “YES. EVERYTHING.”

In the back of your mind, a voice- a distinctly deeper one than your own- resonated: did you really have to tell them?

[merv606]

okay but: pillow princess daniel and terry encouraging it

Violence I tell you - such violence in my inbox lately.

SCREECHES

Pillow princess Daniel - my beloved. It’s just as delicious as feral bitey Daniel.

Pillow princess/ Size queen Danny / all shades of royalty our boy.

So I’m not going into the history but it means a lot of things to a lot of people BUT I will include two snippets from woman’s health and cosmo (HIGHLY REPUTABLE SOURCES 😏) which jives the most with how I view a pillow princess.

1) This usually has a negative connotation. In some situations it is an act of laziness but in others it is a girl who lays back and is willing take whatever her partner wants to give her. In this case it is a submissive partner that is willing to give all the control to her dominant partner. Normally this type of relationship is a mutual agreement so that both are getting what they want.

I love my pillow princess. She lays down, does what I say, and takes it how I give it to her.

2) If you’ve never heard the term “pillow princess,” this is what it means: You’re someone who likes to lie back and let your boo do more of the physical work during sex. Sometimes, this may (and absolutely should) involve splaying your body over a big ole pile of fluffy pillows, but pillow princess-ing is a LIFESTYLE and need not require Egyptian cotton sheets.

So I kind of already write him with pillow princess tendencies - it just fits with their vibe esp if it’s daddy/ baby boy

BUT

Daniel is not a selfish lover / he is very generous with his body 😏 and he 💯 loves to get his mouth on that 🍆 but in the content of when he’s in full on pillow Princess mode, maybe he lets Terry just use his mouth. Terrys hands on either side of his head as moves his head up and down as he fucks his mouth

He likes being used and Terry likes using him - so it’s not like anyone is complaining.

Terry loves when his Danny boy is greedy - lazy like a cat wanting to be petted.

And okay Terry also has to take responsibility for encouraging this - like all of Daniel’s behaviour.

Because even when he goes to climb on top it doesn’t take Terry’s hands too long to find his way to his boys hips (like magnets) and then not long after that for him to fuck in deep and lift him up and down. Then he just starts bouncing him on his cock as he fucks up but his boy looks so damn pretty when he falls forwards, eyelids fluttering and the pretty noises spilling out of an equally pretty mouth.

Breathy little, “right there,” and him clenching around Terry deep inside him are the older man’s rewards.

As are the little bitten of whimpers as he bites his full lip - hands flexing on Terry’s chest.

And he’s like a little rag doll - Terry’s perfect little doll - just taking what Terry gives him - smaller body jolting as Terry fucks him.

“You like that, sweetheart?”

“Yes. Please: so good. Please don’t stop.”

Like Terry ever would - his home is here - chasing relief in his boy’s body.

A cock ring is in order sometimes - for nights when Terry really needs to last to satisfy his pillow princess - size queen.

Daniel is such a little caregiver too - always worried about and looking out after other people so it makes sense he would maybe let Terry takes them reins in the bedroom - to be looked after for once.

He resists at first - it seems one sided - not getting or understanding what Terry would get out of it. The appeal for the older man.

But nothing is better than when Terry finally finished playing with his boy - pulling out to take in his gaping hole and fucked out body, face blissful with no thoughts in his pretty head but the pleasure Terry just bestowed upon him.

It seems too submissive, too passive, too SELFISH. He does like to give Terry what he wants though.

Maybe though, something resonates the first time Terry whispers - “lie back Baby and let daddy take care of you,” and after that well ….. he lies back and takes whatever Terry gives him.

Now though, Daniel crawling into his lap, or lying back spreading his legs are all it takes to get what he wants.

Terry twisting and molding (manhandling) him how he wants - Daniel’s body willingly taking Terry however the older man wants.

Daniel along for the ride.

And he spoils him in other ways too. Only the best for his boy - The comfiest pillows, the softest sheets, the satin restraints are soft like butter.

[killuwumi]

In His Shirt | Dazai x Reader

ANGST

sorry i left you guys and was inactive for so long, depression is a bitch lmao, anyway i love you guys feel free to talk to me about anything! anon is on in my inbox and requests are open but slow THIS ALSO WASN’T PROOF READ I’M LAZY LOL

Warnings: Angst, anger? I can’t think of anything else aaa

Spring cleaning was something your mother always made you do as a teenager, and it just became a habit when you got your own apartment.

You sighed as you opened the closet door, you didn't hoard clothes, but it was a mess from choosing outfits and you were too tired to clean it most times.

Plopping down on the floor you began sorting clothes and putting things back on the hangers. After picking up a black dress you saw a familiar fabric..it was Dazai's undershirt.

The hot tears pricked at the corners of your eyes when you pulled it out of the clothes pile and buried your face in it, it still smelled like him.

It had been months since you and Dazai parted ways, it was a brutal breakup for the both of you and every mutual friend. Of course you assumed Dazai just pretended to be okay, but you could never do the same.

Every time you pass the agency, you walk a little faster and keep your head low. Sometimes you would see Atsushi, he would lower his head and raise a waving hand at you, wearing a look of pity on his face as you waved and walked away.

The shirt hung over your body as you slipped your arm through the sleeves, hands shaky and tears clouding your vision. When you finally stood on your feet, the body mirror in your room reflected the image of a broken person.

In your head there was a brief idea of wearing the shirt out today, to see if it would bring him back to you. But does he even want you back? He's fine without you. You know you should just burn it. It was a never-ending string of thoughts that only added to the stream of tears running down your red cheeks.

It was so tiring to be Dazai's Ex. It felt like anyone who knew, looked at you with pity and sorrow. You knew he wasn't one to commit to a relationship, and you knew what you were getting into. You didn't know it would hurt this bad.

You adjusted your white tank top under Dazai's shirt and wiped your tears. Maybe, just maybe if you wore it out, and acted like it was yours, it wouldn't feel like Dazai anymore. It wouldn't remind you of late nights at his flat, watching movies after heated moments and falling asleep in his arms.

The keys jiggle as you lock the door behind you. Maybe after months it was finally time to own up to the fact its over and you won't have Dazai in your life anymore.

Did someone say comfort food? You made hasty steps towards the bakery downtown, the workers there knew you by name, and your order was always the same.

Almost at the doors of the bakery, an all too familiar presence washed over you.

"Still wearing my shirt, Y/n?" His voice was serious, and just as smooth as you remember.

You couldn't move, it was like your whole body froze and you thoughts couldn't seem to formulate words.

"Y/n, I didn't mean to hurt you."

It seemed today was doomed to be full of tears as you came rolling down once more. The man you had loved for over a year stood behind you, no longer yours. Long gone was the warm feeling he provided just months before.

"You didn't mean to, but you did. And I'm not giving you a chance to do it again."

It hurt more than any words in the English language could explain, you could feel your heart in your chest feeling tight and in pain.

You ripped the shirt from your shoulders as you walked away from the cause of your heartbreak. This was a mistake.

[ghostnebula]

Wait does human richie lick into the other losers’ mouth? I get wolf but i thought human richie just made out with eddie like that. Also 2 questions: 1) how does reddie get together in this au? 2) pls get horny with this au and mouth licking ajdjdjdjdjhf

No, he only licks inside Eddie’s mouth when he’s human. He is well aware of what he’s doing. Eddie, on the other hand, is oblivious. At no point does it occur to him that wolf Richie will lick every Loser indiscriminately because he is a puppy with limited self-control who loves his friends, but human Richie only ever specifically targets him.

Like. Richie is pretty much making out with him and he’s like “Yeah normal werewolf behaviour lol”

(Of course once they’re dating he catches on but by then he’s like “Okay Richie just so you know that actually really turns me on so if you could like, exercise restraint, that would be fantastic.”)

I think that EVENTUALLY Richie is going to figure out how to woo Eddie with things that don’t involve hunting or finding good dens. Every time he brings Eddie to another hole in the ground or pile of rocks he is SO proud of himself and so excited to show Eddie and get his approval but Eddie is just... “Dude. This is the third time this week you’ve brought me all the fucking way out here to show me some dirt. You’re my best friend, Richie, and I really appreciate that you appreciate this... this dirt hole, but I was in the middle of doing my math homework.” 

Two things happen: 

One - Richie gives up trying to be traditional because he realizes Eddie isn’t even intentionally rejecting him, he just doesn’t get it

Two - Eddie complains about his predicament to some of the other Losers and how he swears it’s Richie leaving these dead animals at his door, and he doesn’t want to like... upset him by telling him to stop, but why is he even doing that? Is anyone else getting dead rabbits delivered to their porches on a regular basis? Also has anyone else had to deal with Richie taking them on wild adventures through the Barrens just to show them some kind of burrow? Is that where he’s getting the rabbits from?

Ben is laughing so fucking hard by the time he’s done ranting, and Mike is trying really hard not to laugh, and Eddie’s all “What’s the fuck’s so funny?!” And. Well. What kind of friends would Mike and Ben be if they didn’t tell Eddie he’s being very overtly flirted with? 

Eddie: No I’m not?

Mike: He’s been in love with you for as long as I’ve known you? He is very clearly trying to get your attention and is just doing that the way werewolves probably do.

Ben: I thought Richie was supposed to be the blind one?

Eddie: *bluescreens*

Of course, Richie has realized Eddie isn’t getting the hint, so the next morning he intercepts him on his morning jog with a bouquet of wildflowers he picked himself because he was in a rush and didn’t have time to wait for the fucking florist to open shop. And Eddie takes one look at Richie, all ruffled and out of breath clutching some fucking dandelions and chicory and he’s like. Yeah okay maybe Mike and Ben are right. Maybe this is really a thing. And he happens to have it on pretty good authority that he has also been in love with Richie for longer than Mike or Ben have known them and just got really good at hiding it because -- well, duh. Even if he had the slightest clue that the feeling might be mutual, he also has a sense of self-preservation. 

“You’ve been leaving dead animals on my porch,” he accuses one final time, and Richie goes all red in the face (well, more red than before) and nods, thrusting the flowers out towards him.

“I thought you’d get the message, but apparently werewolf traditions aren’t common knowledge. Who woulda thunk?”

“You’ve been leaving dead animals on my porch,” Eddie says again, reaching out to take the flowers (and weeds) Richie is presenting him with, “because you’re... in love with me?”

Richie nods mutely.

“Okay,” says Eddie. “Okay. Uh-huh.” He’s definitely blushing, too, but mostly because he’s realizing that he is an idiot with the observational skills of a cinderblock. “Well, I’m also in love with you, so that works out.”

Richie, of course, is more relieved than he’s ever been in his life, but before he can ask permission to kiss Eddie (like actually kiss him, properly, for the first time) Eddie interrupts with a, “Hey, Richie? Isn’t this poison oak?”

I don’t wanna make this too long but I’ll include horniness in the mouth-licking scenario in another answer. I am... pretty sure there are one or two asks in my inbox with the same idea anyway.

[merakiaes]

Lovers’ Quarrel - Finn Shelby

Pairing: Finn Shelby x reader

Requested: Yes. 

Prompts: #2 from the common tropes-list, #7 from the fluff-list.

Warnings/notes: This is a combination of two requests. I got a request for the common trope a few days ago with other prompts and had to split them up. The request for #7 from the fluff-list is gone from my inbox so I hope the person who requested it sees this. This is not proofread so sorry in advance for any mistakes!

Wordcount: 2694

Summary: You’re forced to share a bed with Finn, whom you hate with a burning passion. Things happen and things end in a very unexpected way. 

Finn Shelby was without a doubt in your mind the most infuriating person you had ever known. He was immature, annoying and so incredibly full of himself that it made your blood boil just hearing his voice.

“I can do this because I’m a Shelby”, “I can do that because I’m a Peaky Blinder.”

That was about everything you ever heard come out of his mouth and it made you want to punch him in the face.

You didn’t want to be around him; you couldn’t stand him. He tried so hard to be everything he wasn’t, pretending to be tougher and more mature than he actually was and it made your entire body itch and twitch with aggravation.

And the feeling was mutual. You hated him, and he hated you. Every time you were in the presence of each other you fought, sometimes to the point where the people around you actually start fearing that you would strangle each other. So you tried to your absolute best ability to stay clear of each other.

Unfortunately, however, that was often very hard, as your family was working together with the Peaky Blinders, meaning your families spent time together. A lot. Far too much than you would have liked.

They had been working together for the past year or so now. Every weekend, your family went down to drink with the Shelbys as the Garrison, and every Sunday you had dinner together.

Those time were, although actually physically painful, bearable, as you didn’t have to sit anywhere near the youngest of the Shelby siblings and could keep yourself occupied with your own siblings.

But now, that wouldn’t be possible.

Your family and Finn’s family had all decided to go out to your family estate on the country side for this Christmas. You would obviously have to share rooms in order for everyone to fit, and you had expected your father to let you bunk with your brothers.

But no. when you had began carrying your bag into your brothers’ room, he had stopped you, and told you that you would be bunking with Finn.

Why in the world he would throw you into the same room as the person he knew you despised, you couldn’t figure out. Especially not since you were his youngest daughter and Finn was a boy, and you would be sharing a bed. But it still happened, and you were currently trying your hardest to stop yourself from yelling out loud.

“No way.” You shook your head, crossing your arms over your chest. “That’s not happening.”

“Yeah. I’m not sharing a bed with her.” Finn agreed form across the hallway, crossing his arms over his chest just like you had done, causing you to narrow your eyes at him.

Tommy raised an eyebrow at this, staring his little brother down. “And why not?”

“Because she snores.” He wasted no time in responding, glaring at his brother without as much as a glint of fear in his eyes.

An offended sound left your lips and you uncrossed your arms. “I do not snore!” You disagreed, taking a step forward and glaring at him with wild eyes.

But he wasn’t bothered in the slightest, only narrowing his eyes at you. “Yes, you do.”

You could feel the tips of your ears growing hot at his accusations. “I only snore when I’m really tired.” You defended yourself, faltering slightly but quickly regaining your composure and hardening your face.

“Well, then I guess you’re always really tired.” He shot back, and that’s when you couldn’t contain your anger any more.

“Yeah, really tired of your bullshit!” You yelled out, and launched yourself in his direction, ready to hit him.

Finn started moving towards you, as well, but before you could reach each other, Arthur hurried in between you and held you away from each other by your shoulders, struggling to do so as you tried reaching your hands around to get a hit in on each other.

Once he was sure you had both calmed down and wouldn’t try to kill each other, he quickly reached around to grab two blankets from the pile of sleeping necessities resting on the table behind him, shoving them into his little brother’s arms before grabbing both of your bags, throwing them into the bedroom you had always slept in every other time you had been there.

Once the bags had tumbled inside, he then proceeded to come behind you and shove the two of you into the bedroom, simply stating “Behave” before slamming door shut behind you, leaving you alone.

You stood frozen at the spot for a few seconds, just staring straight forward. Your breathing was heavy with anger, your ears burning hot and your heart thumping violently in your chest. More than anything, you just wanted to turn around and punch him in the face, but you knew you father would kill you if you did.

You took a deep breath and clenched your hands a few times before turning to look at him, finding that he was already staring at you with hard eyes, which only made your glare more intense.

“You’re sleeping on the floor.” You told him flatly, watching as his eyes narrowed.

“I’m not sleeping on the floor.” He answered, taking a threatening step closer to you.

He towered over you by a good three and a half inches and it did, admittedly, intimidate you a tiny bit. But you refused to show it, crossing your arms over your chest. “There’s only on bed, and the bed is mine, so you’re taking the floor like the gentleman you are.”

He looked behind you, taking a look at the bed, before turning his attention back to you and throwing an arm out in exasperation. “There’s room for two!”

You raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said you weren’t going to share a bed with me.”

He opened his mouth to answer, but stopped himself short when he realized you had caught him in his own trap, hardening his face before answering. “Fine. If I’m taking the floor then I get the thick blanket.”

You were quick to shake your head, uncrossing your arms. “No way, the thick blanket is mine.”

“Well, that’s unfortunate.” He said, throwing the thin blanket to the bed for you to use and tightening his grip on the thicker on still in his arms.. “Because I’m not planning on letting it go.”

You growled under your breath. “I’ll just have to take it from you then.“

At that, you stepped forward and grabbed a hold of the blanket and gave it a rough tug, to which he wasted no time in tugging it back.

“Let go.” You growled through clenched teeth, giving it another tug and putting your other hand on his arm in an attempt to pry the blanket our of his hands.

He twisted his hand out of your grasp and tugged once more, this time with such force that you went tumbling into his chest, sending the two of you tumbling to the floor with a loud, painful thud where you kept pulling at the blanket back and forth.

Yeah, it was safe to say that it was sometimes really hard to believe you were both twenty years old.

You were lucky to have landed on top of him, his body suppressing your fall, but he wasn’t as lucky, having taken the fall to his back and getting your entire body weight on top of him.

He groaned as you struggled to get off, the two of you being a whole mess of shoving elbows, but you didn’t let go of the blanket once.

“You’re crushing my spleen!” He yelled as you moved around, attempting to push you off and hitting your hip in the process.

“You don’t even know where your spleen is!” You yelled back, giving the blanket another tug and succeeding in getting it out of his grip. As you did so, however, your hand moved down a good way and accidentally brushed against his crotch, something you didn’t realize until he got still underneath you and a moan fell from his lips.

You stilled at the sound and widened your eyes, the blanket suddenly long forgotten as you turned to look at him. “Did you just-“

“It’s your fault!” He quickly cut you off, his hands now completely having surrendered the blanket and moved up to his head where he was pressing his face into his palms.

You couldn’t see his facial expression but judging by the way his ears and neck were turning a bright red, you knew he must have been embarrassed, and that was enough to cause you to roll off his body and collapse in laughter next to him.

Tugging the blanket out of his arms and into your own, you hugged it to your chest for support as you laughed, your cheeks and lungs starting to burn. You were so wrapped up in laughing at his embarrassment that you didn’t even notice him sitting up beside you.

So to say you were surprised when he suddenly leaned down, pushed your shoulders to the floor to get you to lay still and pressed his lips to you’re the next second, was the biggest understatement of the century.

Your laughing immediately ceased and your eyes grew wide, and out of instinct, you pushed him away roughly, exclaiming. “What are hell are you doing?!”

Both of you were out of breath, you from having laughed so hard and him out of a mixture of embarrassment and frustration.

He didn’t say anything, just staring into your shocked eyes with his angry ones, his baby blues now several shades darker.

You didn’t know what got into you, but only a few seconds after having pushed him away, you tossed the blanket to the other side of the room and reached your arms out to pull him back down by his neck, roughly pressing your lips against his like he had done to you only moments before.

And I think you could guess what happened next.

The entire experience was a clumsy, heated mess with all of the frustration and hatred you had built up for each other over the past year pouring out in one single evening.

You were lucky your room was on the bottom floor as opposed to the other bedrooms that were on the top floor, or else the other people in the house surely would have heard what you were up to and never let you hear the end of it.

The events that you would have thought was going to be a one time thing ended up repeating itself every night for the entire weekend you were there, but the second you got back to Small Heath, it was like it had never happened and you got back to ignoring each other – only ten times worse.

You didn’t bicker or fight anymore when in the same room, you only avoided each other’s gazes and didn’t say a word to each other.

Isaiah – who was both yours and Finn’s friend – knew clearly that something had happened during Christmas weekend, unlike everyone else who didn’t even notice the way you would grow quiet every time the other walked into the room.

The constant back-and-forth bickering you would usually partake in had always been amusing to watch for Isaiah and your other common friends, but this was just boring and unbearable and after an entire week of it, he’d had enough and came up with a plan that could either go to hell, or finally get you to stop avoiding the obvious and admit your true feelings to each other.

Seeing as you were now ignoring each other even more than you had before, it was really hard to get the two of you alone in the same room, and it took a really long time before he actually got the opportunity he needed.

But today he finally did, as you and Finn had been the last ones out of the Garrison, outside which Isaiah had been waiting for you to come out.

“Hello, friends!” He greeted you as you came out of the door, you first and Finn right after you. Both of you jumped at his sudden voice, not having seen him standing around the corner, but he didn’t pay any mind to your wide eyes, only coming over to you and taking you under one arm each.

“Are you free tomorrow? Say, around eight?” He continued, looking between the two of you.

Finn, having known him much longer than you had, instantly sensed that he was up to no good, answering suspiciously. “Yes?”

Isaiah grinned at that, turning to you. “What about you?”

Thinking none of his strange behavior, you only shrugged lazily, not really interested at the conversation at hand. “I think so.”

If even possible, this made his grin widen even further. “Great!” He declared, bringing his arms off of your shoulders and clapping his hands together. “Because I’m not. You two go on without me. Enjoy your date.”

With that, he walked ahead of you, walking backwards a few steps to give you both a final, evil smile, before spinning back around and heading off home, leaving the two of you in the dark, frozen with shock.

You gaped, not being able to find the right words.

“Did he just-“ Finn began, trailing off as he looked after his best friend with eyes just as wide as yours.

He had known from the start that Isaiah had had something planned, but he had not been expecting something like this. s

“I think he did.” You confirmed, finally coming back to your senses and wrapping your arms around yourself as a chilly gust of air pulled at your coat.

Finn cleared his throat, shoving his hands into his pockets and glancing at you awkwardly. “So…” He began, and you quietly waited for him to go on. “I’ll… Uh, I’ll come by and pick you up around eight tomorrow?”

“I…” You trailed off, thinking and clearing your throat like he had only moments before, nodding your head awkwardly. “I think I could live with that.”

He let out a breath of air, nodding his head. “Good. I’ll uh, I’ll see you then.”

“Yeah.” You nodded, taking a step back.

He copied your actions, taking a step back and turning his body towards the direction of his house, all while holding eye contact. “Bye.”

You held his gaze, nodding again. “Bye.”

The two of you turned away from each other, beginning to walk in the direction of your respective homes. You only made it a few meters before his voice called out from behind you again, though.

“You were great, by the way.”

You stopped in your tracks and turned back around, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. “What?”

“When we…” He began, fumbling with his words and cheeks turning a shade darker. “You know… you were great.”

“Oh.” You finally came to realization what he was talking about, feeling the back of your neck growing hot. “Thank you. So were you.”

He smiled awkwardly, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” You nodded, and he nodded back.

Silence fell over you again, your eyes staring into each other’s, neither of you really knowing where to go from there.

You held the stare for another few seconds, before Finn finally brought his hand out of his pocket and pointed his thumb over his shoulder, taking a small step back.

“I’m going to go now.” He told you, and you instantly broke free of your trance and nodded, following his example and taking a step back.

“Yeah, me too.” You agreed, and he flashed you a smile.

“Bye.”

“Bye.” You smiled back, before you turned away from each other for the second time, and this time, he didn’t call out again.

You hugged yourself tightly as you walked home with your heart hammering in your chest, trying to make sense out of the entire situation, but coming out with nothing.

What the hell just happened?

[mcr-roleplayers]

The (Semi) End of This Blog

Hey everyone. It’s been a long time since I’ve last logged in, and it shows. I have quite a few asks piled up in my inbox -- mainly submissions, a few requests to change/take down posts, one or two commentaries, etc.; a handful of IMs; and of course, a large gap in activity. It’s been me and one other person who I’ve fallen out of touch with (which I blame purely on myself), who I’m not even sure has the information for this blog still. Of the 400+ blogs that follow this one, the majority haven’t been been active in at least 2+ years. All in all, it feels that this blog has met its end.

I’ve personally been out of the RPing game for a minute now, being that my adult life and responsibilities both take up all my time, and drains me of any spare energy I may have to keep up an active RP, and I know it isn’t fair to keep others waiting for days at a time for a reply. However, I also know how much joy RPing brought me over the years, and how it oddly helped shape my writing for the better. While it may no longer serve me personally, I would be remiss to just drop this concept with no idea if anyone else would take it up in my place.

So what’s the fate of mcr-roleplayers?

I’ve decided to migrate the concept over to a new blog; this time, as opposed to making an entirely new account, it’s going to be a side blog. I’ll have quicker access to messages, submissions, etc., and it’ll also enable me to add other tumblr users as moderators that can assist in answering questions, managing submissions, and pick up where I may fall back on if my life introduces more obstacles that keep me from keeping the blog up to date. These moderators are, of course, TBA, but they will most likely be mutuals I have on my main account.

How will all of this be done?

The first phase has been completed at this time, which is turning all previous posts on this blog private; that way, anyone who submitted information that may no longer be relevant, or that they no longer want publicly available is safe (especially considering the inactivity of this blog; I wouldn’t blame anyone for giving up on requesting information be taken down). This also means that anyone who has submitted their information and wishes to have it up on the new blog can message me on the new one, as opposed to completely resubmitting their information. Specifics on how these submissions will be migrated will be detailed on the new blog.

The second phase will be to migrate any unpublished submissions over to the new blog. Unfortunately, this does mean that if you submitted via anon, I will not be able to migrate your information over, unless you contact us again on the new blog and let me know that you’d like it posted (this can be done by giving a detail, such as one of the methods of contact that you submitted in your original request, so we know which anon you are). I will be contacting anybody whose blog has been active within the year still awaiting their submission to be posted via IM within the next week, and asking if they would like their submission posted on the new blog.

The third phase will be to set up the new blog, transfer over rules, FAQ, themes, etc., along with all the information previously submitted to this blog (all information still being kept private until those who submitted information request otherwise), and officially retire this blog. After this phase is done, submissions and the inbox will be closed, and all further contact will have to be made through the new blog. This blog will stay up -- mainly so anyone looking for the active version of it can find it if they remember this one -- but it will no longer update or accept submissions.

Any questions that anyone has can be answered at this time -- once I roll into phase three I’ll make an announcement. Thank you to everyone for your patience and for 8 years of community through this blog. You all are amazing. ❤️

[qrbie]

The Masterlist

Hey. I know it’s been ages since my last fic rec, but my motivation is slowly building again and I think I’m going to have a big one coming up soon. Meanwhile, I tossed a ton onto @0nceuponafanfic, so she might have something brewing for y’all. Anyways, I’ve been updating this thing, so if you ever need a pile to fall back on when I’m MIA, here you go!

Please tell me if I’m missing something, like a trigger warning or a link to someone’s Tumblr. Also don’t be afraid to rec me your favorite fics or even your own fics! I wanna see them. If you want to request fic recs, I’m open for those too! Even if you don’t have fics or even a specific purpose, come to my inbox and mess around. I’m bored and want human interaction.

‘allo people! yeah yeah yeah It’s been AGES since the last update so I’mma dump some new fics into here soon. I’m also gonna fix up the organization a bit. so sayonara and see ya later!

As always, stay hydrated!

Happy pride, everyone!

Last updated 6/23

1-Chapter bits of fluff or angst or something else

one hell of a hook | A TodoBaku fic... but don’t let that drive you away! This is an amazing fic, so please give it a try before you judge.

Mafia Au | What if Present Mic was a yakuza boss and Aizawa was a spy? (There’s a lot more to this, including a lot more art, over at @nartothelar‘s blog)

UA Music Conservatory | a series of one-shots in an AU where UA is actually a music school.

Silent Shadow | has the potential to evolve into something bigger. Nomu!Midoriya is Kurogiri’s protege. So cool.

Present Mic’s Awesome Mixtape 2.0 | Aizawa doesn’t like any kind of music. Shocking, right? After discovering this, Yamada has a new goal. Find a type of music Aizawa likes.

cultivating something so divine | Vet!Kiribaku, with so much fluff and animals and mutual pining that even the hardest of hearts can be softened.

The story of how Midoriya Izuku won the Sport Festival | I love a good dose of Crack Treated Seriously, and here’s some.

Trash Goblin Finds Love | “Bakugou. This is the gayest thing I’ve ever seen.”

president of the krbk club | Whenever something exciting happens, what does Midoriya do? Whip out his notebooks, of course. So what happens when Bakugou isn’t pushing Kirishima away?

It's Hard to Get Past Some Things | Whenever Midoriya’s drunk, Todoroki’s his designated caretaker. What happens when drunk Midoriya decides to talk about kids (or pups, whatever)? (A/B/O)

it's just the little things | Bakugou’s interactions over the years (stealing from the official summary here)

The Knock-On Effect | There’s only a couple types of knocks that Bakugou likes. Kirishima’s knocks in the middle of the night are one of them.

Smile for me, would you? | Unlike the rest of us, Present Mics has goals, and actually follows through with them. This goal? Make his neighbor, Shouta Aizawa, smile.

Shadowed Soul, Electric Eyes (We'll Be Okay) | What if Tokoyami and Kaminari, people with completely different quirks, got quirk-swapped?

A Matter of Pride | How everyone in BNHA came out. That’s it. It’s so fluffy, though.

firedancer | Unlike the rest of these, this one has the tiniest bit of angst. So little you’d need a microscope, though. Whenever someone falls in love, romantically, platonically, or any other way, a flower appears on their skin. Kirishima has a ton of flowers, but where are Bakugou’s?

A Mile in New Shoes (and A Mile Too Far) | Artist!Bakugou is invited to his first house party... Luckily he has three guys showing him around.

Boy things | Ashido loves her friends, but sometimes it gets lonely being the only girl in the Bakusquad. Good thing they understand!

come home to me | Kiribaku might’ve gotten a telepathic connection... There’s so much fluff in this one!

one to ten | Kirishima wants to date Bakugou, but he’s gotta climb the ladder of friendship first!

Get Mad! | Bakugou teaches Eri how to cope, and Eri returns the favor.

bakugatsu | Yeah, I know this is 20 chapters long, but it’s basically 20 drabbles compiled together by the amazing wonhaebunny!

a mix of six | Probably my favorite series of all time, no matter the fandom. What happens when Aizawa and Hizashi adopt Bakugou, Todoroki, Shinsou and Eri?

KiriBaku Week 2020 | A series by PoorUnfortunateSoul - full of fluff!

Safety In Numbers | A little bit of fluff and a lot of parental Erasermic.

Multi-chapter Stories

How To Get Adopted Without Letting Your Dad Know He's Adopting You, A Guide By Class 1-A | Good old fashioned school fluff. (WIP)

Dandelion | No masterlist is complete without at least one fic from the legendary Broken Realities, right? So here’s @owlf45‘s fic... (there’s a lot more! Check out the Broken Realities Collection on Ao3 for at least some of them... I bet there’s a lot more floating around.) (WIP)

Phosphenes | A Naruto/BNHA crossover, Mina is reborn from Naruto, and learns to navigate life even with such a big burden on her shoulders. (WIP)

Flour Power | Kirishima and Bakugou are supposed to take care of a sack of flour for a school project. What could go wrong?

Not really a villain, but close enough | “Aizawa didn't expect the raid to go so well. he didn't expect the informant to be so useful and well-mannered. who was hi kidding? Aizawa didn't expect the informant to be a kid. but the green-eyed boy cuffed to the interrogation table was wiling to help, and Aizawa wasn't one to look the gift horse in the mouth“ (WIP)

green haze | Vigilante!Midoriya is known as the Green Haze, a vigilante, Eraserhead’s supposed to capture. Shenanigans happen.

2am Knows All Secrets | One of those classic Kiribaku fics that trickle through the ranks. Lots of fluff, with good ol’ tropes like sharing a bed and mutual pining and Good Friends, and-it’s great.

The life of a hero | Such a good series. It’s so amazing. It gives angst and pain but then soothes it over with fluff, but then it tears you apart... and then it gives you life... a great read.

The Last Resort | This is basically pure angst. It’s so painful, but it’s such a good story... Shinsou was sold as a young child to a yakuza. This yakuza would rent out people for their quirks... This is an amazing read, but don’t expect any fluff from this. (Check the tags! WIP)

¥300 Shampoo | When Aizawa’s working on a book at the cafe, he certainly doesn’t expect someone pulling his hair. He definitely doesn’t expect getting a free haircut out of it, either.

quote love unquote | Take the official summary “When Kirishima Eijirou's band hits the big time, he's not prepared for his newfound fame. He's even less prepared to meet the actor he's been crushing on for years, or to start dating him as a publicity stunt. The closer Kirishima gets to Bakugou Katsuki, the more he realizes he's in over his head. But it's hard to stop, once his heart is in it.”

lovin is easy | Blasty doesn’t get “feelings,” so here’s five times Bakugou doesn’t get love and one time he does. (WIP)

The Empath & The Mind Reader | Bakugou is a mind reader, and Kirishima is a empath. If both of them can literally know what the other person’s feeling/thinking, why are they still dancing around each other? (WIP, Contains smut, Anxiety attacks)

and finally I see the world in color (the violet stands out, thanks to you) | This fic deserves a LOT more than just 76 kudos. Sometimes people miss out on amazing fics just because it’s a femslash. Momojirou, where Yaoyaorozu is a businesslady who is bored with her life and everything else, until she happens upon the rambunctious band Dark Shadow. Seriously, please read this! (WIP)

Behind The Scenes | A KiriBaku actor AU. What happens when you start falling for your co-star - and your on-screen love interest? (WIP, It’s rated E for smut, but there isn’t any yet)

We Didn't Start the Fire | What if Touya decided to make something out of himself instead of becoming a villain? This is amazing, by the way. (WIP)

it seems i'm never letting go | Here’s how I summarized it to myself... “Koi no yokan... will Blasty experience it? (His sister left)” By the way, koi no yokan is basically love at first sight, Japanese-style. (WIP)

Lips Like Blood | What happens when Bakugou, a mage, falls in love with the one person who can’t love him back? (WIP)

Charm Me, Loser | A Hogwarts AU that has no right being that ingenius and amazing. My only problem with it is sorta small... There’s already a wizarding school in Japan... Why aren’t they going there? (WIP)

Gotta Get Away | Tsuyu and Bakugou are out getting some new hero merch together because of the new buddy system at UA. What happens when they’re mistaken for a couple? (WIP)

Opposed to the Typical | A fashion AU. This is ridiculously good. It feels like the author was actually in the Japanese fashion industry! (WIP, smut, past child abuse, mental health issues)

One Day at a Time | Pretty genius idea, actually. Bakugou and Uraraka are trapped in what is essentially a time-speeder-upper. What’s going to be a day for their classmates is going to be a year for them. What will they do in that year together? (WIP, it’s rated Mature but it’s pretty innocent so far)

The UA Quarantine Collection | Basically, a bunch of authors got together and made a ton of one-shots of what Class 1A is doing in quarentine. Technically it isn’t a coherent story, but I’m counting it as one. There’s two versions, a clean version and a version with all the smutty bits. The smutty one’s the second story in the series. This one’s linked to the clean one. (WIP)

Midoriya Fuckin' Izuku | This is an amazing fic! It has a ton of TWs, though. Make sure to read the tags before starting it! (WIP)

Seeing Double | A very good, and very long, fantasy AU. (WIP, smut)

Broken, but Still Good | Bakugou was rescued, after four years, from an illegal alpha fighting ring. Can Kirishima, a beta, help him back to society? Pay attention to the tags. (WIP, A/B/O)

Broken Wings | Kirishima’s a dragon who was rescued from the dragon slave trade by the mysterious Bakugou Katsuki, I don’t know what else to say. (WIP)

The Roast of Class 2-A | Have a crackfic. (WIP)

The Space Between | Midoriya’s a photojournalist who is just starting out. One fateful night, he goes to photograph the Antiheros in concert. (WIP, mild smut)

A Fissile Family | Bakugou’s been kidnapped by the League of Villains again. They’re actually sorta a weird family. (WIP)

Mochi Mochi | Just take the official summary. “Ochako never saw a problem with DM-ing an internationally known actor her grocery lists, absolutely certain that he'd never see them. That is—until he replies. And who the hell does he think he is to tell her mochi isn't real food?”

Green as the Leaves, and Red as a Rose | A TodoDeku flower shop AU. (WIP)

remember my name | Post-UA, Bakugou realizes that some things are for forever.

Blinding Shapes | What happens when soulmates, a blind abstract artist and a burnt out barista meet?

a heart swelled to bursting | Mind the tags, here. Training camp part 2 for Class 2A. (WIP)

manly man falls for manliest man | What happens when businessman!Kirishima meets his idol, and maybe biggest celebrity crush ever, actor!Bakugou? (Smut)

Miscellaneous Stuff From Other Fandoms

I have some Harry Potter fics lying around somewhere, so I’m going to add those later.

Stucco Hearts | One of my absolute favorite soulmate fics ever, from Percy Jackson.

Christmas and Chill | A old series I sorta just came across again from PJO.

The Florist and the Punk | Maybe another old series from PJO.

Hearts Need Love | Keep an eye on the tags! This is my favorite PJO fic of all time.

Our Songs | It’s good if I spent half an hour trying to find it again. It’s a Solangelo songfic.

Some random writers I recommend (A lot more coming along-I’m in the middle of a ton of different fics right now)

aloneintherain | @captainkirkk

wonhaebunny | @wonhaebunny

rosedvst

Sif (Rosae) | @intothedarknessigo

kiritime

sinderellaa

aloera | @aloera

Argentina | @junepixel

KuriKuri | @letaizawarest

[dragons-bones]

ALL OF THEM ANSWER ALL OF THEM I MUST KNOW

*rolls up sleeves* ALL RIGHT HERE WE GO

OTP Questions: Aymeric de Borel & Synnove Greywolfe

1. Who likes to nuzzle their head into their partner’s chest?

Synnove! As anyone who personally knows her can tell you, in private she’s a huge cuddlebug, and when she’s tired enough, “public” isn’t a good enough excuse to not. When she’s feeling particularly cruddy, she’ll mash her face into Aymeric’s chest and attempt to pull a reverse chest-burster. Just. Aggressive snuggling. Cuddle me damnit.

Aymeric loves it, of course, and will wrap his arms around her tightly and prop his chin on her head.

2. How many and what colors are the blankets they like to snuggle in?

To the surprise of absolutely no one, blue and green feature a lot in their choice of bedclothes, but there’s also black, white, grey, and one really old lavender throw that’s so old it looks grey but is ridiculously soft. Aymeric and Synnove will fight over who gets that one.

If they’re going for a good ol’ fashioned couch fort snuggle, the answer to “how many” is “all of them.” Couch fort construction requires as many blankets as possible, and then of course you have to line your nest until everything is soft and cloudlike.

On their actual bed, there’s usually one very heavy down comforter with a few blankets on top (Borel Manor) or just the comforter (Synnove’s house in La Noscea). As the carbuncles frequently join the cuddle pile on the bed, and Ivar is a miniature furnace by himself, you don’t need as many blankets as you think to sleep comfortably.

3. Who runs up and hugs their partner and who stands arms wide open to catch their partner?

Synnove is the former and Aymeric the latter for sure. And Synnove is legging it, and she isn’t slowing down. Aymeric, thankfully, may not look like it, but is in fact built like a brick wall (he’s a tank, he’s got muscles, fight me), so he only stumbles one step back before he’s swinging Synnove around and they’re both laughing like a huge pair of dorks.

4. Who would be more likely to get matching scarves for themselves and their partner?

Honestly, both of them. They’re that couple. Synnove probably goes to Aunt Angharad for a set of blue scarves, Aymeric goes to Heron for green ones. Aunt Angharad and Heron meet up for tea and exchange exasperated “they are adorable and disgusting” looks while Rereha gags in the background to disguise the fact she is internally blubbering over how cute they are.

Angharad adds wolves to the blue scarves, Heron adds the Borel crest to the green ones. Yes, Synnove and Aymeric are mutually delighted and regularly rotate which ones they use, even when work keeps them apart.

5. Would they much rather go on a romantic date or a laid back date? Explain why.

Laid back. Synnove is a Warrior of Light and Vice Chair of the Arcanists’ Guild Aetherophysics Department, Aymeric is Lord Commander of the Temple Knights and Lord Speaker of the House of Lords of Ishgard. They are workaholics, but even they recognize when they’re approaching burnout (or at least, their friends do, and lock them out of their offices). Romantic dates are fun, but laid back ones are much less stressful, and if one or both of them accidentally end up dozing off, it’s less likely to mean the food burns.

6. Who still gets butterflies after years of dating?

Oh, please, what a silly question, both of them! As @stars-bleed-hearts-shine once put it, I write them as Gomez and Morticia Addams! I commissioned ART of them as such! Alternatively, they are also Rick O’Connell and Evelyn Carnahan.

Basically: ridiculously, stupidly in love with one another no matter how many years go by.

7. Who is the one who makes their partner laugh so much that their face hurts?

Synnove is usually the one making Aymeric lose it, even (or especially) when she isn’t trying. The sheer nonsense she experiences in both academia and regularly saving the world is literally unbelievable. Then you add in five carbuncles, with the two youngest ones bound and determined to break physics every other day which has forced Synnove to start rolling with the punches or be stuck in a perpetual Blue Screen of Death.

Aymeric might not entirely understand all of Synnove’s aetherophysics babble when she really gets going, but he can appreciate her exasperation.

8. How would each of them explain how they met?

@aethernoise since she slid this into my inbox, too. :D

I don’t think either of them would call it love at first sight, though both will certainly admit they were attracted to one another. And neither would really call the whole situation favorable circumstances: it was a political meeting and Aymeric was essentially having to parrot the official party line for Ishgard right before having to spin things around to get Ishgard favors from the Scions. Aymeric is very much of the opinion that it wasn’t the best first impression, and he’s sometimes surprised Synnove still reacted so well to his overtures of friendship (and then romance).

Synnove, however, had worked for the Guild for over a decade by that point, serving as an assessor for just as long. She is well familiar with having to espouse the official stance of her city-state, despite her own feelings. She’s still surprised the fact that Galette single-handedly wiping out the dessert buffet wasn’t off-putting! How was it at all cute that she could enforce good manners on her child?

(Honestly, what sealed the deal for them both was the competence thing. During the matter with the heretics, both well-acquitted themselves and, well. Competence is sexy. So’s martial prowess for both Ishgardians and Ala Mhigans. The pretty face was just a bonus.)

9. Who accidentally drinks too much caffeine and who has to deal with their partner bouncing off the walls?

Aymeric is the one who drinks too much caffeine. You would think it would be Synnove, but she’s an academic subsisting off Death Wish coffee: the amount of caffeine she consumes is how she’s able to function normally, she literally cannot consume too much. It is not physically possibly for her.

Aymeric, however, is typically a tea drinker. He forgot to ask which blend Synnove had put in the thermocoil boilmaster that morning. He was Not Prepared for Death Wish.

Synnove, thankfully, had years of managing Galette on a sugar high. Admittedly she grumbled Galette was easier because if it was really bad, she could launch the carbuncle out into the harbor and have her expend all that excess energy in a nice big explosion, but the house was definitely never that clean or the garden well-weeded ever again.

10. Where is a special place they hold close to their hearts? Why is it special?

There’s this little secluded cabin right on the beach south of Costa del Sol that the owner rents out to wealthy individuals who don’t want to deal with Master Gegeruju at his resort. Rereha’s parents basically have it booked for a solid two moons in late summer every year, and Rereha and her sisters will coordinate when they stay.

Shortly after the Dragonsong War ended and Aymeric was installed as the Lord Speaker, the Squad, Lucia, and Handeloup conspired and basically forcibly evicted Aymeric and Synnove from their offices and forced them to take at least a sennight’s vacation. (Start small, was their thinking.) Heron slapped ferry tickets into Synnove hands and said, “Boat leaves at the first bell past noon, you’re going to the cabin, your bags are at the docks, now leave.”

So their very first vacation was spent at that little cabin and its private pier, occasionally traveling up to Costa del Sol for supplies or for someone else to make lunch or dinner, and then wandering back, and just…existing. No duties, no meetings, just peace and quiet and the chance to relax. Afterwards, they put themselves on the renter’s list, and they typically go in winter when there’s a lull and the Coerthan everwinter gets worse. They have a lot of happy memories there.

[sozotohakai]

HOW I RUN MY BLOG.

SPEED: I call myself fickle rather than slow or fast. My speed is fully dependent on my energy, but also what else I might focus on. For all I might be super energized one day, I might choose to focus it elsewhere. The trick with myself is to just not force myself, and chances are, I end up having some form of regularity, as long as nothing else piles up on me. In short, unless things demand more attention or I need to rest more, I do tend to write replies at least once or twice a week, although it’s gotten rarer for me to find the energy to do more than two or three replies at once. So I’m doing replies at least once or twice a week, but depending what inspire me, some threads take longer.

REPLIES: I can do short replies, but it’s very easy for me to develop inner thoughts or details of the environment, especially as technically, there’s three NPC always with Allen: Nea, CC and Timcanpy. I don’t always do it, but often, there’s just logic in writing out what Nea, CC and/or Tim is doing or feeling, as it can affect Allen himself. I also love to leave cues for my partners, like a glimpse of Allen’s left hand or a spike of energy, things can be used, your character seeing or sensing things, or not used. I do tend to match reply too, since what you give me will give a base structure of what I can give you, and sometimes inner stuff just take more words.

STARTERS: I found myself loving to do them. I think it started when, in my efforts to feel more at ease approaching people, I would offer to do starters too, especially as I noticed people often took that offer. There’s a part of me that does like to be able to set things up, and in general, I just feel a love for writing starters, and the fact almost everyone seems to enjoy leaving it to me just keeps this cycle of enjoying it. They’re 99% of the time plotted, as I do admit I don’t really  think of starter calls. I do some opens at time, and tend to make new threads out of replies, so notes remain clean, and people can ask me to make a starter out of the idea if the starter itself doesn’t quite work. But, yes, while I don���t often do starter calls, I enjoy doing starters.

INBOX: I’m just as fickle with inbox stuff as with threads. Some inbox stuff are very easy to reply to, and tend to be replied quickly. But some will be like short thread and so I don’t necessarily have the energy to write my muse to reply to the message. I love memes, but I don’t handle well to see a meme on my blog that never got used, so I tend to remove a reblog if I didn’t get a meme. I’ve tried to leave memes and tag them, in the past, but it’s still a work in progress, to reblog memes and leave them here. This is also a big part because I’m fickle enough with everything, so for me, memes are stuff to have fun on the moment, but a day later? I probably don’t have the energy anymore for it. So it just feels too weird to keep memes up, as I mostly use them as “this is the fun I’m okay doing today!”.

SELECTIVITY: I’m both selective and not? I am open to anyone and everything, but I have preferences, so I can be open but choose to not interact, if I can feel I’m not going to have enough inspiration. I look at people rules and about and the general layout of blog, as well as take a quick look around archive to get a feel of the speed, so I always base myself on both what I feel out of the blog, the mun and the muse. As I say in my guidelines, I use follows to show interest, so if I follow you (first or back), you know I have seen your blog, and decided I could see myself interacting with you. I remain open, meaning that you can still approach me and ask for interaction, no matter the follow/mutual status between us! Sometimes I’m just uncertain rather than not interested, and it can help growing certain.

On another note, I’m currently mostly interested in MDZS, which is very ironic but I don’t think I’m the first person who had their muse not be interested in their canon. It’s partly because DGM rpc has been very quiet, I do happen to love when Allen can interact with canon muses of DGM, but I’m not actively looking for them. Meanwhile, I love so very much throwing Allen into other worlds and having people not realize the mess that will follow him eventually (because sometimes even I forget he’s literally part of the core part of a war with the whole world at stake). And MDZS my other fave fandom, ergo: mostly interested in MDZS interactions.

WISHLIST: I have a wishlist tag, which... isn’t on my tag page. That will be corrected very soon. It’s here in the meantime. But yes, I have general plot ideas, which tend to be in headcanon posts, it’s easy to see some that shows up often, but often as I can see these pop up at some point, I don’t make an actual wish out of those. Still, I’ve made a few posts out of some that really made me go “that’s a fun thing to consider” and there’s maybe more I could grab from my hcs post and make proper wishlist post. In general, you can expect I’m always curious to include Allen’s dreams/nightmares, his Innocence, Nea’s presence, CC, Timcanpy, the Ark, or people he knows from DGM.

HONEST NOTE: I’ve realized I’m not as social as I believed myself to be. I’m open, I love to chat and meet people, I adore my friends, but being social is draining to me, never recharging. Any amount of chatting can be draining to me, of course small things are way easier, but the general thing is that I need energy to interact directly with people, be it face to face or chatting online. So you will easily feel like I’m full of energy when I speak ooc with you, because I am always happy to do so, but at the same time, you’ll easily see me be fickle about ooc interactions. Chances are, I indirectly interact too, with ooc posts and my simple presence by any activity I show. There’s just no going against the natural way your energy drains and recharges, so I’ve grown to make sure everyone who interacts with me are aware that’s a thing with me. That, and the knowledge I write both as hobby and as career, so I’m simultaneously always in potential free time and potential creative time. I’m good at handling myself, I’ll know day to day what I can do or cannot do, and it’s just that others can’t really see it for themselves and can only see when I do something that is visible. I could have a very productive day, and no one knows because it’s all offline stuff. Sometimes you’ll know what I’m doing by seeing updates on my fics or my fic blog; and same thing with my original writings. I can only explain all that, both how my social energy is low and easily drained, and how my creative energy cycles between creating and recharging, and has multiple outlets. And then trust anyone that interacts with me or know me to understand all this and know I’ll be back, be it ooc or ic.

On a final note: I’m very, very bad with remembering how long I’ve talked to someone, or a thread has been replied to. My mind goes from “today” to “yesterday” to “a few days ago” to “days ago” and then just... “it’s been some time”. Today/yesterday feel like “its okay, I still have time” and after that, my mind just goes “ngggh when I can!”. Only thing that helps a bit is notification, as without them, I easily forget who I replied or didn’t reply to. To my mind, either I was the last to say something and so I’m waiting a notification, or I have a notification. Because I barely have energy for socializing, I have next to no energy to notice who I haven’t seen a notification from. Sometimes I get my butt to check on people, but I just... my mind just wants to believe people are doing okay or having their own life, and so especially if I can see them on dash, my brain just does not process who I talk or doesn’t talk to on regular basis. It’s narrowed to the notifications I have, and when I have plot to discuss, or see an ooc post. 99% of the time, if I follow you, I am totally aware of you, and I’ll see any ooc stuff, and mentally wish you the best, but I just... never process how long we have or haven’t been talking.

TAGGED BY: stolen from @shuoshuzhe​

TAGGING: Anyone who wants to!

[sweetheartjeongguk]

pretty kitty 3 (m)

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre: hybrid au, camgirl au, fluff, smut

rating: nc-17

warning(s): drunk sex, impregnation kink, daddy kink, mentions of drugs and alcohol, taehyung and oc having the feels 

word count: 6.6k+

summary: you’re both jagged pieces of a puzzle, but you fit rather nicely together. 

the discovery | the denial | the meeting | the aftermath | the payback

masterlist

“You tired already?”

You huff out an annoyed breath. “Easy for you to say. You just stick your dick in while I gotta deal with your sweaty body on top of me. It’s like Niagara Falls every time you top.”

Seojoon clutches at his chest in offense. “How dare you? First of all, might I remind you that I made you that spicy ramen last night even though we all know it starts World War III in your guts and you were stuck on the toilet for an hour crying over your ‘ruined asshole’?”

“Why, you little—”  

You launch a pillow at his face, but unfortunately for you, his reflexes as a panther hybrid allow him to easily avoid your attempted assault.

“Anyways, I gotta get going.” Seojoon sighs in fake disappointment. “Hyungsik wanted to binge-watch My Hero Academia with me, but I’ve been avoiding him ever since I accidentally watched the season already.”

“Yikes, good luck dealing with that mess.”

You never really liked Hyungsik, and you’re 99.9% certain that the feeling’s mutual. Just something about him strikes a wrong chord with you, but Seojoon shrugs this off as irrational paranoia. Unwilling to argue with your friend, you force yourself to muster up the brightest phony smile whenever you stop by their apartment to hang out or drop something off.

“See you tomorrow!” He shouts as he escapes through the front door after slipping his clothes back on. “Great work today as always! Don’t forget my money, bitch!”

“Love you too, jackass.” You grumble as you lay in a starfish position on your mattress.  

The livestream ended an hour ago, but Seojoon stayed to help you clean up and recuperate after the camming session. While he’s a dumbass half the time, you admire him for his consistent attitude for quality aftercare, even after the most vanilla of encounters. This particular session gained you a hundred more viewers and a decent amount of money for you to share with. If your elementary school-level calculations serve you well, the night’s earnings combined with your last solo stream are enough to cover textbook costs and the money you owe Seojoon for the time you overflowed his toilet after trying to flush his toothbrush down after accidentally flinging it inside and wanting to “destroy the evidence” before Seojoon came home.  

Your next defense was to blame it on Hyungsik, but he didn’t seem to appreciate the joke.

As recompense for your so-called “crime against humanity”, you offered a substantial portion of your earnings if he helped with filming. Sex came natural to the both of you, lacking the expectation of blatant resistance when you first brought up the idea. Casual sex with a trustworthy friend while making a couple hundred bucks every five minutes? Seojoon couldn’t find any fault with that.

After all, you sucked him off in a frat house bathroom just an hour after you two were officially introduced.

You stretch out across the bed with a wince. Maybe you’ll invest an hour-long massage once your money gets transferred to your account. Better yet, you’ll force Seojoon to pay for it since this is his fault in the beginning. The man’s built like a god but fucks like the devil.  

When you unlock the screen of your cell phone, you’re bombarded with the sight of multiple texts from Seulgi and an email about your Music 101 class being cancelled on Monday. After browsing through bland Instagram stories, you finally decide to appease the witch in your inbox.

Right off the bat, you regret opening up the message.

BITCH YOU BETTER ANSWER ME BEFORE I COME OVER AND TELL SEOJOON ABOUT UR CRUSTY VAGINA PROBLEMS.

You’ve had plenty of experiences with Seulgi barging in during your not-so PG moments and having her fall into an exaggerated spiel that has your partners running out of your dorm in record time. You’d be a fool to fall into her hands again so with a heavy heart, your thumbs type out your response.

yes ur majesty??

Not even five seconds later, your phone beeps with a new message.

wOW look whos here, puss in boots has finally blessed me with her appearance.

Before you can type back your offended retort, you’re blasted with the annoying Facetime ringtone. With a sigh and silent prayer to whatever higher power is up there, you accept the call.

“I almost thought the dick went to your head and not your vagina.” Seulgi snorts when your less than glamorous face comes into view on her screen. “How was your dick appointment, sunshine?”

“I’m doing fine, thanks for asking appropriately.” You flash her an unimpressed stare. “I made over $5k tonight so cancel your plans for tomorrow. We’re going shopping at the outlet tomorrow!”

“Okay, Little Miss Fancy.” Seulgi wiggles her eyebrows in approval. “Just in time too. There’s going to be a party at Jennie and Jisoo’s this weekend, and I’m trying to get dicked down before I’m forced to graduate with cobwebs on my clit.”

“Okay, first of all…I’m not even going to ask.” You shudder in disgust. “Second of all, don’t you have your project due the day after? Might I remind you of what happened last time?”

Seulgi blanches white. “Please don’t. I’d rather not remember that when there’s a dick in my mouth.”

You hold your free hand up in surrender. “Alright then, your problem. Just so you know, I think that you should have started that project months ago.”

“And I think that I should be married to Gong Yoo with two beautiful children, but we don’t always get everything we want.” Seulgi harrumphs. “Anyways, don’t be a party pooper. Who knows, maybe you’ll find Sugar Daddy Number 163 there?”

“My finger is literally hovering over the end call button as we speak.”

“Do it, bitch. I’ll throw away that catnip that you think I don’t know about in the secret drawer inside your closet.”

“That is low, Kang, that is just low.”

“Hey, there’s a party at Jennie’s this weekend? You down?” Jimin calls from the couch as he scrolls through the influx of messages in his dance class group chat.

Taehyung is fully immersed in washing the pile of dishes in the sink that he almost doesn’t catch Jimin’s voice over the running faucet. When he contemplates this in his head, he just shrugs indifferently.

“I don’t know, I’m not really friends with her.”

“She’s cool, man. The rest of us are going too anyway, so it’s not like you’re going to be by yourself.” Jimin points out.

“Knowing you all, you’re going to be dragged off into a game of beer pong against Jungkook or caught up in some random hook-up in a closet somewhere, Namjoon’s going to get himself stuck in another piece of furniture again, and Jin and Yoongi are going to make another stupid bet that’s going to get Jin stuck in jail again.”

“What about Hoseok?”

“He gets red after two sips.” Taehyung scoffs. “The most I had to do was stop him from calling his parents to apologize for drinking and never calling enough. He’s the least of our worries.”

“You might find someone to spend the night with?” Jimin singsongs. “Get your dick wet after all these months of being a loser and staying home jerking off to porn?”

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Staying home doesn’t make someone a loser.”

“That’s something a loser who stays at home jerking off to porn would say.”

Taehyung sighs up at the ceiling, hands soaked and wrinkled from the soapy water. “I don’t even know why I try at this point.”

“Just think about it.” Jimin stands to grab his jacket hanging off the side of the couch. “You might be pleasantly surprised.”

“Highly doubt it, but thanks for the advice.” Taehyung actively avoids the flick of Jimin’s middle finger as the latter leaves to head back to his own dorm.

Once he’s finally alone, Taehyung takes a moment to actually think about Jimin’s proposal. If he does go to the party, there’s a 50-50 chance of him getting lucky with some hot stranger desperate for a random dick for the night or him returning home with six (or five, depending on Seokjin’s law-breaking kink) drunken idiots.

His Plan B (B standing for “Better Option”) would be to just forget about the party and stay home where he can happily jerk off to porn while digging into a huge bag of Hot Cheetos. Thankfully, he’s learned his lesson on how to jerk off without accidentally using the Hot Cheeto hand.

Taehyung had the case of spicy dick for a good five hours until Jimin came over to check up on him. However, the only thing Jimin could do was fall back in crazed laughter and snap a Polaroid of Taehyung’s distressed tears from his Cheeto dick.

Maybe the party idea isn’t sounding too bad after all.  

You fidget uncomfortably in your seat as you adjust your too-tight top. You had forced yourself to sit through an entire styling process from Seulgi who decided that you needed a little more “oomph” in your appearance.

In the words of Kang Seulgi, “God, Y/N, you’re a popular camgirl known for her sexual appeal, and yet you continue to dress like a middle-aged librarian mixed with Maria from the Sound of Music.”

You couldn’t help but shrink back in offense – your wardrobe isn’t that terrible. Sure, you wear too many casual clothes, and the only time you wear expensive lingerie or anything remotely “sexy” is when you go on camera, wearing the gifts given to you by loyal viewers.

Regardless, you let Seulgi work her magic in the brief time you had to yourself before Ji-Eun arrived to drive the three of you to the party.

Seulgi passionately performs a mini concert in the backseat with her own rendition of “God is a Woman” while Ji-Eun boils in the driver’s seat, her hands clenched tightly around the steering wheel. You don’t know which is worst at this point.

“God, will this car go any fucking slower?” She grits her teeth as another person honks their horn at Ji-Eun to let them through. “Why do they have to live so far away in the ass crack of nowhere?”

“They’re only 15 minutes away from us…”

“You better watch your mouth, Kang, or else you’re walking home.” Ji-Eun scowls into the rearview mirror.

Seulgi slouches back in her seat, no longer feeling the need to belt out the last notes of the song as it comes to an end. Angry Ji-Eun’s a side to the usually cherubic Ji-Eun that should never see the light of day no matter the circumstances. You busy yourself by scrolling through your Instagram feed, liking a couple pictures from your friends back home and laughing silently at some random dog videos that pop up in-between. Your scrolling comes to a halt, your thumb hovering hesitantly above the heart button of a certain photo.

If it wasn’t for the owner of the account, you would have found the courage to double-tap.

“Oh, isn’t that Kim Taehyung?”

“It is…” You mutter quietly, ignoring the close presence of Seulgi’s face near yours.

You’re desperate to scroll past, but Seulgi reaches her hand out to hold your phone.

“You should go for him, Y/N!” Ji-Eun whistles when she catches the picture of his selfie from the corner of her eye. “I heard he and Sooyoung already broke up, so you got a shot.”

The corner of your mouth quirks up in a half-assed smile. As if.

“They broke up already?” Seulgi asks curiously as she hands you back your phone. “I could have sworn that they were messing around together a couple weeks ago.”

There goes your fleeting moment of happiness.

“They weren’t really a thing, I’m pretty sure.” Ji-Eun pauses in thought. “They hooked up a couple times, but I think they’re just friends or at least just in the same friend group.”

You silently stew in your seat, clicking out of the app and locking your phone. Thanks to Seulgi, you’re aching to burn the image of Sooyoung wrapped around Taehyung from your brain. Not that you’re jealous, of course.  

Ji-Eun sighs in relief as the sight of the house comes into view. After parking precariously on the side of the street, Seulgi rushes your trio inside and through the living room teeming with drunk college students and into the kitchen to grab the first drinks of the night. You twitch your nose at the stench of musky cologne, hormones, and hard liquor intermingling as you approach the bartender of the night who just so happens to be Seojoon.

“Hey guys!” Seojoon chimes as he finishes up mixing Hyungsik’s drink who stands cross-armed against the wall with a look of boredom directed at the three of you, mostly at you. “I was wondering when you’d be getting here.”

“When did you get here?” You greet him with a short side-hug, stopping to glare at him until his traveling palm averts its course from your ass.

“Hyungsik and I got here beforehand to help set up.” Seojoon nods towards the brooding man in the corner. “Jisoo stuck me with this job, and now I can’t leave until the party’s over or at least until I’m forced to go out to buy more alcohol for these heathens.”

You scrunch your nose in annoyance. “That doesn’t sound fun. Why can’t they do it themselves?”

Seojoon clears his throat. “I quote, ‘because getting dicked down by the hottest guy in the room is the main priority of the night’.”

“Hear, hear.” Seulgi nods distractedly.

You smack your hand against her bicep. “Can’t you think without your genitals for a second?”

“Y/N…sweetheart.” Seulgi pats your cheek as if you’re an innocent child. “You must not know me at all.”

“Nevertheless, ladies, please enjoy the party.” Seojoon pulls you back before you can take a swipe at your best friend. “Y/N, I’ll be seeing you later.”

Seojoon clicks his tongue suggestively, reveling in your eyeroll and not-so discreet middle finger. After grabbing your drinks, the three of you head towards an empty corner of the room, away from the concentrated cloud of marijuana and crusty men who crave a quick grope.    

“Dang, was the dick that bad?” Seulgi scoffs jokingly. “Maybe if you’re not interested, you can spare a little bite...”

“Wait, since when you and Seojoon a thing?” Ji-Eun’s eyes widen.

You subtly glare at Seulgi’s apparent struggle to hold back her knowing laughter before turning to answer Ji-Eun with the most innocent look imaginable.

“I don’t know where Seulgi gets her delusions.” You smile through gritted teeth. “Seojoon and I hanging out from time to time does not equate to us fucking.”

Seulgi lets out a snort. “Something smells fishy…I think it’s your va—"

She squeaks in pain when she feels the stab of your heel into her foot. The music drowns out most of her cries of distress which Ji-Eun fails to notice. She takes a large gulp of her drink, grimacing at the strong aftertaste of the mostly-vodka mixture.

“God, I want to sue Seojoon for making us this terrible drink.” Ji-Eun stares at the cup with utter hatred in her eyes. “Seriously, it tastes like straight-up ass paired with off brand Caprisun.”

“I second that notion.” You swallow back a gag as the concoction slips uneasily down your throat.

“Me three.” Seulgi grimaces but forces herself to finish the content. “I’m undoubtedly puking later, so I’m going to go off and find some nice dick before that happens. Tootles!”

You silently devise a plan involving bear traps and superglue as you threaten to bore a hole through the back of Seulgi’s head with a scorching glower as she blends into the crowd in search of her next friend with benefits, leaving you to deal with the most infamous lightweight of your friend group.

“You okay?” Ji-Eun questions curiously.

“I’m fucking fantastic.”

“Y/N, I love you.” You remain stone-faced as the drunk girl leans against you with her entire weight. “You’re always so good to me, and I love you for that. I’ll make it my mission in life to help you find a boyfriend, okay?”

Her arms are like spaghetti, and her knees knock together in an attempt to keep straight. The cup once clutched in her hands is now dumped in a random corner of the kitchen, but you shrug it off as Seojoon’s responsibility. He did make you terrible alcohol after all.

“Hyung, n-no, I’m not d-drunk.”

You momentarily glance up at the voice, suddenly blanking out at the figures slowly approaching your corner of the room.

“Oh God, please turn around, please turn around.” You desperately pray as they inch closer.

Much like your situation, Taehyung struggles to hold his unmistakably intoxicated friend – Jungkook or something along those lines – in an upright position. He mutters angry words that were inaudible to you into Jungkook’s ear, but the boy keeps trying to shove Taehyung away.

“I w-wanna go party-y!” He hiccups. “They’re p-playing beer p-pong without me.”

Jungkook twists his body to make a run for the living room, but his own clumsy feet send him back to square one in his friend’s arms. You can see Taehyung roll his eyes as he hauls Jungkook’s heavy body towards the row of chairs where you’re forced into cuddling an equally drunk Ji-Eun.

Taehyung fails to recognize you until your uncomfortable shifting in your chair lets out a shrill squeak. When his gaze settles on you, you notice that his entire body freezes. Heat rushes to your body as his eyes trail over you in a bizarre manner – almost as if he’s scanning you to make sure that you’re actually there and not just a figment of his imagination.

Before you can muster up the courage to utter one phrase to the boy, he turns to the side to tend to Jungkook who’s stuck mumbling and drooling, much like a newborn baby. There’s an itch in the pit of your stomach that begins to bother you more than you’d expected it to. You feel an obligation to say something over to Taehyung – at least something along the lines of “Drunk friends, am I right?” – but you decide to push aside whatever tempts you to say something.

Between the choices of not saying anything and not having Taehyung know who you are or uttering your sentence and making a complete fool of yourself, you’d prefer the latter by a long shot.

“Um…is she okay?”

Your head shoots up in surprise. Taehyung allows his friend to lay on his side across the row of chairs, taking up the entire space while he’s forced to cram his body onto the tiny chair a seat away. Your gaze trickles down to Ji-Eun who mirrors Jungkook perfectly, completely passed out and drooling away on your lap like there’s no tomorrow.

“She will be.” You abruptly clear your throat. “She’s always like this at parties, so it’s nothing new.”

Taehyung nods in agreement. “Same, I’m always stuck watching over all my friends which is why I didn’t really want to go to this party in the first place.”

“Ugh, same!” You groan as you cradle your forehead with a palm. “My friend Seulgi’s no help either. She’s probably off choking on dick in one of the guest rooms right now while I’m stuck here on babysitter duty for someone older than me, for fuck’s sake.”

When Taehyung answers with an awkward cough, you’re hit with the sudden realization that maybe you shouldn’t be so open with a complete stranger, even if that stranger is Kim Taehyung who you’ve had a crush on for years now.

Just a thought.

“Sorry…” You force out a laugh, sounding uncannily like a robot. “You probably don’t want to hear about that.”

“No worries.” Taehyung shakes his head. “My friend Jimin’s the same way. In fact, I think that’s them over there.”

You squint your eyes in the direction that Taehyung points towards. When you finally catch onto the sight, you instantly wish you hadn’t.

There, practically undressing each other in the middle of the dance floor with their tongues curled one another, is Seulgi and Jimin.

“Yup, time for me to burn my eyeballs.”

Taehyung giggles at the horror in your eyes, throwing you overboard into a sea of useless emotions. The worst part of it is that he’s not even trying – that’s just how he is.

‘Ugh, pretty boys.’

“You’re telling me.” Taehyung cringes. “But that’s not the worst situation I’ve caught Jimin in, so I guess we’re spared this time.”

“H-hey.” A voice hiccups from below.

You both direct your attention to Jungkook who points a shaky finger towards you.

“You l-look familiar…” The boy slurs. “Have I seen you before?”

“Nope.” You answer with a shrug. “School, perhaps?”

“N-no.” He hiccups again. “Are you a Y-Youtuber?”

‘Not exactly, kiddo.’

Instead, you reply with another shake of your head. He opens his mouth as if to ask another question, but even uttering a complete sentence proves too difficult a task for Jungkook to complete. With a slurred humph, he slumps against the row of chairs again with his head resting on Taehyung’s right thigh.

“Sorry about him.” Taehyung mutters apologetically. “He rarely drinks, but when he does, this happens.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You smile politely. “That makes two of us.”

Five minutes into a conversation with Taehyung, and you’re scared of falling back into the dreaded Awkward Silence. If only Seulgi was here to save you, but she’s probably too busy giving Park Jimin the suck of a lifetime while you’re floundering to save your conversation with the cutest boy in school.

You’re suddenly thrown back into the image of you as a shy middle schooler, silently crushing on the cheery tiger hybrid in Mrs. Lee’s classroom across the hall. Those were the days before you discovered the wonders of makeup and Moroccan oil and when you would sit in the corner of the lunchroom with your eyes glued on a certain boxy smile as he laughs with his best friends and the rest of the popular kids. The lasting memory of you in his mind was probably the Kindergarten Incident with you crying on the playground after your mother dropped you off in the morning. You long to change his perception and show him who you are now, flaws and all, but you have no idea where to begin.

Curse you and your inability to socialize.

You take your time scanning through the room for a potential lifesaver or topic to blab about to make yourself look semi-interesting to Taehyung. You go to blow away a strand of hair that falls into your vision, unaware of the pair of eyes watching you softly.

Taehyung holds back the urge to brush the troublesome strand from your skin and place a gentle kiss where it used to lay.

“Hey, do you…” Taehyung choking on his words cause you to turn towards him with a raised eyebrow.

“Do I…” You trail off.

Taehyung pales as he forces the words from his mouth in an awkward splurge of word vomit.

‘It’s now or never, Kim.’

“Doyoumaybewanttogohavesomefunonourown?”  

Taehyung could almost die at your stoic appearance. Nothing in your eyes or your smile (lack thereof) gives him any clue into the thoughts churning around your brain. Just as he’s ready to give up and find an excuse to escape with a sloppy Jungkook in tow, you begin to giggle.  

Now, Taehyung’s 99.9% sure he’s about to die.

A smile plays at the side of your lip. “Alright, Kim. I second that notion. But first, let’s go find some beds for these guys first.”

It takes you roughly 10 minutes to scour the house for either Jennie or Jisoo, eventually finding the latter hanging around the poolside with Soyeon and Chaeyoung. You thank a higher power for the Kim girls’ wealth from part-time modeling that allows them to buy a house with more than one guest room. After accidentally opening up occupied rooms and getting more than a couple dick flashes, Taehyung and you finally find two empty rooms that are decently far away from the loud chattering and music blaring throughout the house. Quickly, you plop Ji-Eun down onto the soft comforter of the bed and turn her on her side, shoving a trashcan beside the bed just in case that night’s menu decides to make an appearance when she wakes up.

“All set?” Taehyung asks, a hint of hopefulness in his voice. You brush it off as wishful thinking.  

“We’re finally free.” You beam with a wide grin.

Taehyung sends you a soft smile before grabbing your wrist to pull you downstairs and into the kitchen for drinks. Seojoon eyes you carefully as you approach, curious as to your sudden acquaintance with Mr. Kim Taehyung. He knows a little bit about your not-so-little crush but holds back his questions for another time; however, it’s completely obvious that he’s holding back from making a crude sex joke in front of the two of you.

“Enjoy, you crazy kids.” Seojoon winks, sending a flood of embarrassment to your cheeks.

Taehyung eyes Seojoon with a subtle glare, one that you barely notice but one that Seojoon senses immediately. You’re none the wisest towards the display of dominance, but Seojoon notices it all – from the way Taehyung subtly puffs up his chest to the growing feral glint in his eyes.

“Kiss my ass, Park.” You hiss when you snatch the cups away from Seojoon’s fingers.

“Gladly, sweetheart.” Seojoon purrs back without missing a beat.

It takes all of Taehyung’s inner strength to force his irritation down to an unnoticeable level of annoyance. Even then, his bad mood is still visible to anyone who dares to look closer. After grabbing your drinks from an amused Seojoon, you begin to guide Taehyung out of the kitchen to head back upstairs.

With your back turned, Taehyung chances a dangerous snarl at Seojoon. The older raises a hand up in surrender, but the aggression does nothing to deter Seojoon. If anything, it just makes him even more pleased than before.

Oh, how he can’t wait until you finally become a couple.

“Sorry about him.” You apologize meekly as you two head onto the balcony connected to an empty guest room in the farthest part of the house. “Seojoon can be a little annoying when you first meet him, but he’s actually not that bad.”

“Ha, you’re telling me.” Taehyung mutters annoyedly.

Before you can question Taehyung’s irritation, he’s already chugging half the cup’s contents down his throat. You hold back your disgust for the taste as you follow in Taehyung’s footsteps and gulp down the fiery alcohol. You’ve already developed a small buzz from your first round of drinks, but you feel yourself slip into a more relaxed state with your second.

“So, Miss Y/N…” You lazily turn your head. “Tell me a little about yourself.”

The two of you rest your elbows on top of the balcony railing, inviting the cool autumn breeze to blow across your skin and through your hair with a gentle caress. The party music is muffled behind the glass door of the balcony, but you can still feel the bass thumping within your chest. You hum for a moment as you rack your brain for something, anything interesting to say.

“There’s not really that much about me.” You shrug. “I’ve lived here most of my life, and I plan on leaving once school’s over to explore the rest of the world. My two best friends are Seulgi and Ji-Eun, just not tonight...and that’s all to me really. I guess I’m just an open book with a little too many blank pages in-between.”

Taehyung nudges his elbow to your side. “Ah, there’s more to you than that. Surely, you like to do fun things. Unless you’re one of those boring people whose favorite show is Jeopardy and likes to go to the mall just to walk around.”

“Hey, Jeopardy is a great show, Mr. I-Have-The-Mental-Capacity-Of-A-Walnut.” You retort jokingly.

Taehyung laughs wholeheartedly at your teasing jab. “Okay then, fair enough. I’ll take your word for it.”

The moon beams down on your figures as you continue to chatter about random topics and sip on your disgusting drinks with only a small grimace. Little by little, you learn more about Taehyung’s passions in life and what he wants to do after graduation while he learns more about your friendships with Seulgi and Ji-Eun and all the horror stories from freshman year. You share giggles and playful nudges as if you’ve been friends for decades.

Every sip from your cup sends a tingly buzz that fills you from your head down to the tips of your toes. Your bright eyes grow lazy with a familiar drunken glaze, and you find yourself leaning a little closer into Taehyung’s side.

It’s when you finally make eye contact with Taehyung that he makes the first move.

Your bodies move in an almost fluid yet messy choreography, your lips latching onto one another in utter desperation. Taehyung quickly parts your mouth with his tongue to finally taste the hidden sweetness hidden within. His large, veiny hands slip down from the sides of your face to clutch your hips against his body, forcing your hands to rest against his broad chest.

“Want to go inside?” He pants when you eventually separate for a breath.

“Please.” You whine urgently.

You squeak in surprise as he grips your body with one arm while the other slams open the balcony door leading into the guest room. In a blink of an eye, Taehyung drops you onto the comforter and frantically suctions his lips to your jawline, creating soft marks on your supple skin and kneading the soft flesh near your inner thighs. You bite back a moan as his lips trail down your neck and towards the cleavage of your top.

“Take this fucking thing off.”

Without missing a beat, he rips your top over your head and returns his mouth to the valley between your breasts. Taehyung’s pleasantly surprised at your braless form, and he can’t help but brush a thumb across before replacing it with his tongue.  

“T-Tae…” You sigh airily as he circles around your nipple, drawing them to a hardened peak and leaving thin traces of saliva on your skin. “P-Please.”

“Relax.” He coos into your ear. “This is all for you. You just lay back and enjoy it, my little kitten.”

“I’ll enjoy it once you’re inside of me already.” You whisper coyly, your hands tracing down the curve of his spine and down towards his ass. “I want you to fill my pretty pussy up with your come already.”

With one look into his frenzied pupils, you shrink into yourself as though you’re some meager prey hybrid with a bloodthirsty predator chasing after you.

Oh, how you love it.

He peppers a series of small kisses down your stomach, his movements slower than before. He wants to make you feel as frustrated as he does whenever he watches your videos and yearns to reach through the screen to feel your body against his.

However, with the real thing’s in front of him, his biological urge to mount you and pump you full of his kittens starts to overpower his original plans of taking things slow.

“Fuck, you smell so good, baby.” Taehyung groans as your excitement seeps through the fabric of your jeans. “I can’t wait to taste this sweet little pussy. My little kitten’s been waiting so long for me.”

Your muddled thoughts fail to form into coherent words as Taehyung’s tongue slides across from the top of your pelvis and down towards your core drenched in your excitement. He relishes in your whiny moans at the ticklish flicks he gives your swollen clit, noting cockily how your nails grasp at the bedsheets with reckless abandon and how your toes curl in delight at the warmth filling your bloodstream.

“Are you all wet just for me, kitten?” Taehyung murmurs, cheeks completely soaked from your excitement. “You taste so good, baby. So sweet.”

“Y-Yes, I’m all wet just f-for you, baby.” You whimper as his tongue licks larger stripes against you. “P-Please, Tae, I want you.”

“Want me where?” Teasing you is quickly becoming his new favorite pastime.

“I-Inside. Please, I want to feel all of you.”

“Isn’t that a little too easy?” Taehyung clicks his tongue as he wipes away the excess slick from his chin.

He holds in his shudder when you pull his hand towards you to envelope the come-stained fingers inside your mouth, moaning in delight as you taste yourself.

“I-I think I n-need something in return before your little pussy can earn its treat.”

Taehyung is quick to unbutton his jeans and shrug them along with his boxers onto the bedroom floor. The tip of his cock drips small strings of pre-come onto the sheets, reddened and sensitive to the touch. You quickly discover this when your small fingers reach forward to briefly tease around the head with the pad of your thumb.

“Open up, sweetheart.” Taehyung bites down onto his lip as he guides the first two inches inside your awaiting mouth.

You moan at the salty taste that you’ve grown to love that coats your tongue, sucking lightly for the first few seconds before hollowing your cheeks and applying more pressure with every stroke. Taehyung hisses as your mouth sinks even deeper, nearly driving the head into the back of your throat.

“You’re so good to me, huh?” Taehyung lets out a low moan when he feels you hum in agreement, sending vibrations across the sensitive head of his cock. “Does my baby deserve to be fucked now?”

Your watery eyes connect with Taehyung’s as you choke on the smooth length. Suddenly, you feel miniscule and powerless underneath his lustful gaze, but you welcome the degradation wholeheartedly.  

“Turn around, baby.” Taehyung grunts as he slips himself from your mouth. “I want to see your tight little ass when I fuck this little pussy open.”

He props you up on your elbows with your back arched as far as you can go. There’s a slight pressure in your lower back as you present yourself to him, but the discomfort is nothing compared to the uncontrollable need to finally be fucked by Taehyung. He admires the sight of your awaiting pussy, completely soaked with your come and swollen from his relentless ministrations on your sensitive bud.  

You draw out a long mewl when you feel the tip nudge your seam before pushing inside, clenching hard as he continues to bottom out.

Oh, how he loves it.  

“Fuck, baby, you’re so tight.” Taehyung chuckles lowly as he begins a steady yet hard-hitting pace. “You’re making Daddy proud. His kitten’s taking his cock so well, don’t you agree?”

You smother your face into a pillow to muffle your cries, not wanting someone barging in during the fuck of your lifetime. With every hard thrust, your pussy sucks him back inside with a lewd squelch, desperate to hold him there whenever he tries to retract. His fingers are sure to leave marks on your skin in the morning from the way he’s grasping your hips for dear life. .

You fuck yourself almost every week, and yet you’re still the tiniest hole Taehyung’s ever had the pleasure of fucking. It entices him to continue his thrusts, in hopes of absolutely ruining you and filling you to the brim with his seed. His mind floods with images of you overflowing with come, carrying his potential kittens deep within and yet, still demanding for more.

This daydream alone has Taehyung stuttering in his movements and nearly blowing his load before you can squeeze around him in your own mind-melting pleasure. You have to come first, and Taehyung would be damned if he ruins that for you by acting like a pubescent boy who came in less than a minute to his very first porn video.

“Taehyung…” You cry pathetically. “T-Touch me.”

He’s quick to follow your orders, rubbing at the bundle of nerves between your legs with two wet fingertips and earning a sharp “F-fuck, Daddy!” in response. Your body threatens to curl inward, and you force yourself to grip onto the pillowcase instead of onto Taehyung’s thigh to force him to fuck you even harder.

He wants to feel you absolutely fall apart with his cock splitting you open – and fall apart, you do.

A surprised hiss escapes the tiger hybrid as you spasm underneath his body, your euphoric release dribbling onto the sheets below. Your claws that unsheathed a second before your orgasm have shredded through a good portion of the pillowcase you buried your face into. It’s not long until Taehyung’s hips lose their rhythm and suddenly, you’re filled with copious amounts of his warm seed.

All for you.  

“F-fuck, kitten, you made Daddy come so much.” He admires the sight of your completely battered pussy as he goes to pull out, stuffed to the brim with his seed that slowly starts dripping out. “Stuffed full of Daddy’s kittens. Such a good girl.”

You sigh in relaxed pleasure as he starts cleaning around your entrance with a skilled tongue, a strong hand massaging each cheek. There’s something satisfying about the fact that Taehyung’s tasting himself which seduces you into pushing through the overstimulation by twisting your hips in tight circles to aid him in his taste test.

“You little—” He laughs as he lands a light smack to an ass cheek. He groans internally at how it jiggles under the force, drawing a tiny moan from you and a string of come that seeps from your used pussy and down your thighs.  

Before he can treat himself to another taste, you flip over and grab at his neck. “My turn.”

Taehyung nearly falls forward on his face when you connect your lips together, your tongue sliding through for a mixture of your releases. They’re still both salty and bitter on your palate, but you’ve gotten used to the taste by now. If anything, Taehyung makes it taste even better.

As you sink further into the mattress deep in the kiss, Taehyung lifts himself up to pull you onto your side. You let out a tiny squeal at the sudden shift in position, especially when his lips tickle the crook of your neck with a trail of wet kisses.

“Now, sleep.” Taehyung kisses your cheek before nuzzling his face into the back of your neck.

“Weirdo.” You purr groggily before succumbing to the inevitable fatigue that seeps into your bones and muscles.

Once you’re deep in sleep, Taehyung leans closer for a better glimpse of your face. Your skin’s still flushed red and sweaty, but you still look like an angel in Taehyung’s eyes. The entire room smells of come and sweat, but he can still sense your unique sweet scent of your skin, and it pains him to hold himself back from tasting some more. The stress that wrinkles your brow is smoothed out and replaced with a peaceful expression, one he sees quite often during your streams after you finally fall back down from your high.

Taehyung is finally brought back to reality when his ears pick up incessant cheering from drunk patrons outside by the poolside accompanied by loud EDM blaring from the outdoor speakers. He ignores them all with an exasperated wrinkle of the nose, and instead he chooses to savor in the warmth radiating from your body that just so happens to fit perfectly against his own – just like pieces of a jagged puzzle.  

Taehyung smiles. You’re finally in his arms, and he doesn’t want to let go.

[diegoh4rgreeves]

#SelfiesForCastaneda

Story Summary:  You’ve just finished watching The Umbrella Academy on Netflix. You follow the main cast on Twitter and get a Retweet from David Castaneda on your selfie! This prompts a conversation with you two. You hit it off and set a date.

Chapter: 1/1

Word Count: 2,420

Pairing: David Castaneda x Reader

Warnings: Anxious thoughts

It’s a rainy Friday night. Normally you’d go out with friends or go out to downtown Toronto. Because it was raining and you were exhausted from work though, you decided to veg out and finish watching the Netflix series, The Umbrella Academy. You were comfortable in your warm home, laid down on your plushy couch, with a fuzzy blanket covering you, and you were in your sweatpants and loose white t-shirt.

You forgot about this comfort once you were so stunned by the series finale of The Umbrella Academy. You could not wait for season 2. You also got attached to the characters and you loved Ellen Page and Robert Sheehan more than you already did before; back when you saw the movie Juno, and back when you watched the show Misfits. You thought Emmy Raver-Lampman was so pretty and seemingly sweet in real life. Your bisexual ass could not get over this. You hit the Follow button in Twitter for Ellen, Robert, and Emmy. The character Luther was your least favourite one, though you thought to get to know the actor for him, Tom Hopper, from interviews, and to Follow him on Twitter too. Justin H. Min was so handsome and so vulnerable as Ben. Aidan Gallagher was just a kid and did an amazing job playing an old man trapped in the body of a 12 year old. And last but not least, there was David Castaneda. He is the most handsome one to you. As Diego, he was so resentful. It didn’t make sense to you because all the siblings went through childhood trauma, from the same man who adopted them all. He was also spiteful towards a former lover, Detective Patch (who your gay ass also found attractive. That’s a story for another time). Still, there was something about Diego, or David, that made you feel good things.

You smile as you hit the Follow button on David. You have followed all the main cast of The Umbrella Academy, along with Mary J. Blige, who is just an icon. You also followed Gerard Way, who created the show and was the singer of the brilliant band My Chemical Romance.

You spend the rest of your evening lurking everyone you just followed. It feels good to be in love with something again.

As you lurk David and his Likes, you see a bunch of fan’s selfies he liked. Every selfie has the hashtag #SelfiesForCasataneda You’re intrigued by this. You wonder if he started this hashtag, or if some fans did. You are also pleased that he interacts with fans. He’s still at the level of fame where he can see fans in his notifications over being blinded by the plenty of Likes, Retweets, and Replies he gets.

This motivates you to get off the couch and to take a shower. As you take a shower, you think of an outfit idea for this selfie you’re thinking of posting. You’ll wear all black; the tight black turtleneck you bought a while ago and have worn plenty of times already, the baggy black jacket you’ve copped from your older sister, and black jeans. It was a Diego-esque outfit. You didn’t have to cosplay. You just always dress like this anyway, and you were the most confident in it.

After your shower, you slip into the outfit, put on some concealer, black winged eyeliner, and red lipstick. You snap some shots from the camera on your phone. You try out a bunch of angles. You scoff at some selfies and think there’s no way he’ll Like any of these. Well, he could, since he seemed like a support Liker to fans. You still wanted to dress to impress if he was going to actually see this selfie!

You beam up once you get another idea. You run to your kitchen to pick up 2 kitchen knives. You are aware of how funny this could look. You like to think that you’re a creative person, or so you decide to go the positive route of thinking.

You get the knives and put a self timer on from the camera of your phone. You criss-cross your arms, with a knife in each hand, and take the shot. Your phone took 3 shots, so there’s a chance of a good one. There is a good one indeed. Your face was lighted perfectly in this certain one. There was a glow. Your hair looked great too. You love the shape of your body as well.

You post the photo, and put in the hash tag, #SelfiesForCastaneda You press ‘Tweet’. At this point, you don’t care if no one would Like the selfie. You are just feelin’ your look!

Fortunately, you do get some Likes; a few were David Castaneda fan accounts, one from a supportive mutual, and a few others were from other fans of The Umbrella Academy. You Like everyone else’s most recent tweets and selfies back.

Then there is a Retweet. You beam up and think maybe it’s from one of the Likers. You view the Retweet and it’s from… @DavidCastanedaJ You think it’s another fan account, until you remember following this account earlier, and you notice the blue checkmark next to the username, which indicates that this is an official and verified celebrity account. Your heart is racing. What the fuck! you think. You check his account and think that maybe his support Liking evolved to support Retweeting. There is no other Retweet with the hashtag #SelfiesForCastaneda on his account though.

You leave your phone alone for 2 hours after your tweet gets more Likes and Retweets from other David fans. You even notice some haters in the thread. Luckily there are only a few haters. Everyone else says that your photo is bad-ass.

You’re not usually one for bragging. This is a very cool moment though, so you retweet David’s Retweet of your selfie, and you caption it with, 'Uhmmm… did David Castaneda just retweet my selfie!? Diego frickn Hargreeves!?“

You look at the time on your phone. It’s 1:30am! You’re usually a night owl. Somehow though, you were tired. You did sleep very little before you went to work, and you commuted in the rain. Being cozy and watching Netflix had to contribute to that tiredness as well. So, you snuggle up in your warm bed, which also has a fuzzy blanket, and sleep.

—

10:43am. You wake up naturally and pick up your phone which was laid on top of some pile of clothes you left on your floor beside your bed. You check your Instagram, Facebook, and Tumblr. Finally, you check your Twitter to check on the selfie. You also see an Inbox notification. You wonder who that could be from. People don’t normally message you on Twitter. You open the inbox and in the preview, it’s @DavidCastanedaJ ! You can’t believe it. What could he possibly have to say to you? Your heart is racing.

What if he says that the retweet was an accident? Would he have had to message you that though? He could have deleted the Retweet if it was an accident. You would have understood that he didn’t mean to Retweet one fan’s selfie randomly.

You take a deep breath before opening the message to quit your overthinking and your doubts.

@DavidCastanedaJ: It’s a good selfie. I had to retweet it.

After lurking his Twitter last night, you notice that he’s got a dry and sarcastic tone. You’re unsure of what to respond to him with, or if you should even respond. Well, of course you should respond. He felt compelled to say something to you personally instead of being funny and fishing for Likes. Well, that’s speaking for if he’s not being sarcastic.

You tap your chin and wonder if you should screenshot this to your close friends, especially your sister who got you to watch the show and dealt with you ogling over him. You shake your head out of this and think that it’s best to reply to him ASAP. He sent his text around 6am. You’re not sure why he sent it that early. He’s in Toronto, a city not too far from yours. He’s not shooting a show, as far as you knew. There isn’t even an announcement of a season 2 for The Umbrella Academy yet.

You quit your overthinking again, and decide to reply with this:

[@YourUsername]: A good selfie how? Like, in what sense?

You take another deep breath and chuck your phone on the spot next to you on your bed. You get up from the bed and decide to leave your phone alone and try to think of something productive to do on your day off. Before you can do that, your phone buzzes. You beam up, and rush back over to your bed, which you sit on your knees for.

Twitter Notification: Preview of @DavidCastanedaJ Inbox message

@DavidCastanedaJ: Idk

@DavidCastanedaJ: I like your Diego get-up, and you’re aesthically pleasing

Your heart is skipping beats. What does he mean by aesthetically pleasing!? Is he implying that you’re attractive? Are you even his type in looks? Do you resemble Detective Patch? Are actors attracted to the type of people who play their love interests? Well it was the only reference you have for this emerging and handsome actor.

You’re in your 20s, and he’s 29. You still have a baby face and wonder if he thinks you look younger than you actually are. Why would he retweet your selfie though?

[@YourUsername]: Aesthetically pleasing? This face?

You hold your phone and stare at the thread. Maybe he’s online if he replied to your last text just seconds after it. Much to your surprise, there’s a blue checkmark which indicates that he read it. Maybe he’s just thinking of what to say. Or maybe you’re a suggestive creep! Wait, how could you be if he was the one who retweeted your selfie!? God, you really had to quit that. Stop letting it get to your head!

The thread shows a new bubble, from him.

@DavidCastanedaJ: Haha

@DavidCastanedaJ: Yes, this face

@DavidCastanedaJ: It’s a great face. What’s your secret?

You are now blushing and still manage to type.

[@YourUsername]: I did sleep 9 hours last night. You know what they say about 9 hours of sleep.

@DavidCastanedaJ: Yeah, that’s lucky

You are easing into this now, though you are also wondering if you should be careful, or if you’re just dreaming and didn’t actually wake up earlier than you usually do.

[@YourUsername]: I’m guessing you don’t have that luxury?

@DavidCastanedaJ: Well, maybe now I can sleep that much

@DavidCastanedaJ: Back when we were shooting the Umbrella Academy though, I was a mess!

[@YourUsername]: You seem so healthy

[@YourUsername]: At least with that body, you do…

David seems to like that response. You spend Saturday afternoon texting each other, and it’s still surreal to you that this is happening, much less how you two seem so connected.

—

A few hours later.

@DavidCastanedaJ: So, you said you’re in Toronto, right?

[@YourUsername]: Well, I’m in a city *near* Toronto, about a half hour away

@DavidCastanedaJ: Oh I see

[@YourUsername]: I’m there often anyway. I mostly go see local bands, and take their photos

@DavidCastanedaJ: Right. I remember you saying that earlier

You’re unsure of how this conversation could last at this point. You take a chance with a one-word response anyway.

[@YourUsername]: Yep!

@DavidCastanedaJ: How would you feel about coming to Toronto tonight? I thought maybe we could have dinner, and I could show you real Diego Hargreeves gear…

Your heart is racing again! In fact, you think that you’re going to shit your pants. You decide to have some banter with him to cover up your fangirling.

[@YourUsername]: "Real Diego Hargreeves gear.”

[@YourUsername]: Is that a sexual innuendo?

@DavidCastanedaJ: It is if you want it to be ;)

[@YourUsername]: Omg

@DavidCastanedaJ: I realize that did sound pretty sketchy, so sorry about that

[@YourUsername]: No, it’s totally fine! I was just teasing :)

[@YourUsername]: I would love to come to downtown tonight! When are you free?

@DavidCastanedaJ: Well, seeing as I’ve been texting a very beautiful girl all afternoon, I’d say my schedule is pretty flexible

[@YourUsername]: Really? Are you sure that Gerard Way isn’t barking at you to get back on set for season 2 as we speak?

@DavidCastanedaJ: Ahahah yeah totally

@DavidCastanedaJ: I’d tell him to wait though. I should get to spend my free time with someone cool first

From there, you hash out the details for the plans; what time, and where to meet. You both also decide to get a drink at Brooklynn Bar. You’re not much of a drinker, though for a celebrity like him you made an exception.

You decide to wear “the Diego get-up”, this time you style your hair, wear darker red lipstick, the same black eyeliner, and you sling a small black cross-body bag over your shoulder.

David texts you with his name. Then he tells you to keep him posted on your whereabouts. You make your way to downtown and your meeting spot with him. You eye the area and look for him. You turn to some side, and you see him walking over. Your heart is skipping beats again, and you gasp.

He looks so handsome with his tan peacoat, black jeans, his gelled black hair, and beard and mustache.

He smiles knowingly and walks over to you. He gives you a hug.

You cannot believe that it is actually him. You realise in this moment that you could have been catfished. You weakly hug him back in your disbelief over this moment.

He pulls you in closer and you hug back tighter.

“Oh my God!” you exclaim.

He pulls out the hug and he looks over at you with a toothy smile on his face. “What?”

“It’s you. It’s really you! God, this is so embarrassing. I think that I’m actually starstruck.”

He chuckles. “This is gonna sound weird, but I thought I was being catfished.”

You give him a puzzled look, although you are so flattered. “I thought that I was an annoying type of fan you’re annoyed of attracting!”

“What!?” he laughs. “Okay, we haven’t even had a drink yet and we’re already confusing each other.”

You let out a laugh.

He gestures an arm to the entry door. “Shall we go in?”

“Yeah sure!”

He signals for you to walk in first, and so your date begins. Things can only get better from here.

[thesummerstorms]

FLOPS RIGHT INTO YOUR INBOX BECAUSE I CAN AND YOU CANT STOP ME. Okay, so, what's Beatrice like? How does she get along with everyone?

Okay, so, this is ABYSMALLY late bc rl sucks, but a little about Beatrice Marchesi (my Arcana Apprentice). I’m currently going through all the routes, but Beatrice’s canon route is either with Asra or, once I work out the canon-breaking logistics, both Asra and Nadia.

Not originally from Vesuvia; from some country where Magicians are frequently killed for their powers, but was adopted by the magic shop’s previous owner, her “Aunt” and a member of an old, deeply traditional Vesuvian family.

Beatrice is very...sharp, in a way that leads to pretty much immediate mutual understanding with Nadia. Intelligent, questioning, making a choice to think before she acts despite having no natural patience. And because she’s often conflicted in her emotions, feeling strung along like a pendulum between her nightmares and missing memories and her questions, she leans a little too heavily into her skepticism/suspicion, always keeping her eyes open for things that will become significant later on.

 If she were a minor arcana personified, she’d be the suite of swords (Maybe the Queen, maybe the Knight, if we’re using the interpretations from Asra’s deck.) and it’s actually a bit of a joke-not-a-joke, the kind that sets Asra’s teeth on edge, that whenever a reading is focused on her, some sort of sword shows up. That just seems to be her luck. She even has a tattoo of a sword on her wrist, and the mask Asra makes for her is a opalescent dragon since dragons represent the swords in his deck. (Though the “Faust” good luck charm with amethyst eyes  he gave her was meant in part to counter act that association, as amethyst is a stone of both protection and memory, and he wove dozens of protection spells around it.)

All of that said, she does have a strong sense of justice/compassion it just... tends to rear its head in a slightly more calculated than emotional way. Rather than a natural impulse to be kind or generous or forgiving, it’s the result of constant questioning of herself + asking what, in a perfect world, people would owe each other then choosing to act on it.

She deeply loves Asra, and did even before the Lazaret. They balance each other well,  with Asra being the more free-flowing, emotional type, and she adores the softness in his expression when she thinks he’s not looking. She loves what she considers to be his abysmal fashion sense, the magpie like attraction to bright colors, and the way he gets excited over very small things like fresh pumpkin bread. He also frustrates her with unanswered questions, and it was a very hard two years between her regaining some sense of herself as a person and Asra finally feeling free to confess his feelings to her. While she’s naturally a little slow to accept familiar touch, her favorite place is in his arms under a pile of quilts, reading some magical tome aloud to him or listening to one of his stories. When they aren’t in a fight about keeping secrets, she’s the softest to Asra.

With Nadia, she’s initially very resistant to the Countess’s gifts because she fears looking like a user or a hanger on- but that eventually earns Nadia’s respect at about the same time Beatrice realizes they’re two of a kind and for her to grow sympathetic with Nadia’s frustrated attempts to improve Vesuvia. She quickly grows to want to be a support for Nadia- though she realizes faster than Nadia does that it also means forcing Nadia to open herself up to the other people who will help her. I think their romance goes slower than it does in game, but eventually she wakes up and realizes that not only is the Countess beautiful,  she’s just and kind and it feels right to ponder a future staying at her side in a true partnership between equals. Plus, for all that the she doesn’t want to look like a user, she definitely appreciates Nadia’s taste in wine, silk, gems, etc. She’s a bit of a magpie herself. 

Julian.... Julian frustrates her. She can’t quite handle him because he’s too much a mess and she’s self-critical enough to realize she’s enough of a mess for herself to deal with, if in a different way.  That said she respects him and the things he’s trying to do, even considers him, somewhat uneasily, a friend eventually. But there’s not the same sparks or connection there, and sometimes she speaks a little to harshly when trying to snap him out of a Mood.  

Eventually has a greyhound or some kind of similar hunting hound as her familiar, tentatively named Evander

[ignis-scientia-estrogen-brigade]

~(Someone help me with a title pls)~ [Pre-Road Trip Fic; 3900 Words]

I just want to give a big thanks for everyone who has started following this blog—I didn’t expect it to gain nearly the traction it did, and nothing makes me happier than seeing all the Ignis trash out there coalesce into one giant pile of garbage and share in the love of everyone’s favorite strategist! I wanted to do something special like drawing a picture of Iggy in honor of surpassing a hundred followers, but everything I doodled sucked monkey balls, so I decided to bequeath you all instead with a longer, naughtier Specs fic (as in, you might need a cigarette after reading this).

This story is peak meta (Ignis-ception? Fanfic-ception?), because the female protagonist originated from a single line in one of my early headcanons, and was more fully-fleshed out in an Ask prompt I received later (the poor girl still doesn’t have a name haha). The idea for this particular fic actually came from the last headcanon I wrote; honestly, I could have expanded on any of those scenarios because gd I want to read more about Gladio having sex in the shower, but as this is an Ignis-oriented blog, I felt it was only natural to have the strategist be the focus of this story.

I have to tell you, one of my favorite things to do is read the hashtags of your reblogs; the funnier, the better. So keep it up if you want to hear about me snorting my morning coffee! Real life has been a bit of a grind lately, so I might be posting more sporadically over the next several weeks, but I still have a few Asks in my inbox I fully intend to answer, so keep your ideas coming!

Tagging @karouyamisaki for… reasons. (Do you still have those dentures I gave you?) Hiiiiiiighly NSFW

“Is it me, or is the table lower than it was yesterday?”

Two spectacled eyes peer out above a Crown City Chronicle at the redhead seated across the breakfast table. “Is it?”

“I think it is.” As a matter of fact, she knows it is; he wouldn’t be entertaining her company if she wasn’t perceptive about these things. It was exactly the type of acumen that had originally caught Ignis’ attention in the first place—that, and the clipped regional accent they both shared, although their mutual love of caffeinated beverages might’ve helped her cause more than a little.

He sips at his Ebony and resumes perusing the current events section of his newspaper. “How peculiar.”

“Indeed. Quite peculiar.” The miraculously diminishing table wasn’t the only thing of notable peculiarity that morning; the way his hand lingered on hers when he brought out her own mug of Ebony seemed rather unusual for the habitually aloof Crownsguard, since about the only time Ignis Scientia dared to ever lay an affectionate finger on her was when she had him cornered in the bedroom with his trousers already around his ankles.

She polishes off her breakfast before pushing her plate aside. “Was it to your liking?” he inquires from behind his paper. “I fear the Regaltrice eggs weren’t as fresh as the shopkeeper at the farmer’s market claimed they were.”

“It was delicious, thank you.” She then reaches for her cup of coffee and hesitates, swirling the last remnants of dark liquid around the bottom of it. “Remind me again, Darling—when did you say you set out for Altissia?”

His emerald eyes dart across the table for the briefest of moments before returning to his paper. “Three weeks.”

“And how long will you be away?”

“It depends. Could be months.”

“Ah. I see.”

“Is that a problem?”

She suppresses the urge to sigh, and instead drains the last of her Ebony to conceal the grimace on her face. “Of course not.”

Finally, he sets his newspaper down on the table and looks over at her in earnest. “Speak your mind. It’s best not to keep secrets.”

Her cheek twitches, and a tendril of bitterness licks the inside of her throat. “Isn’t that what we’re good at?”

His features remain impassive. “Are you unhappy with our arrangement?”

Of course, their arrangement. It was hardly fair of her to be resentful about it; she was the one, after all, who had originally laid down the parameters of their accordance when they began their tryst. No intimate contact outside of the previously agreed upon hours of midnight and four, no affectionate monikers or diminutive terms of endearment, and—perhaps most importantly—no falling in love. Feelings would only compromise the benefits of their affair, since the man might die at any given moment; they both could, for that matter, if the rumors of ulterior motives surrounding the Imperial peace talks were to be believed.

But somewhere along the way, something had changed. Somewhere between that first lustful night together and the present day, they had taken to calling each other Darling; even now, she was bending her own rules by remaining at his apartment this late into the morning, sampling his new omelet recipe and ruminating over the significance of his lingering touch.

Ultimately, somewhere along the way she had grown rather fond of the strategist. “My apologies,” she says sullenly. “I didn’t mean to complicate the matter. I’m sure you have much and more on your mind right now.”

He stares at her blankly for a long moment, and then suddenly glances out the kitchen window. “It’s rather quiet this morning, wouldn’t you say?”

It’s a diversion tactic, and she knows it; it wouldn’t be the first time he’s used it against her to his advantage, although generally it comes in the form of a cheeky I could go for an Ebony about now comment when he’s parrying her lance in the Citadel’s fitness center. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“I wonder if the city is diverting traffic in anticipation of the Imperial detail.” He pushes back from the table and rises from his seat. “Another cuppa?”

“Please.” She sets her empty mug aside and swallows the last of her antipathy; three weeks is not a long time, and choosing to stay irritable at him will only make it pass by more quickly.

He nods once and disappears into the kitchen; her attention drifts out the window and she narrows her eyes. “Now that you mention it, it is rather quiet. Almost too quiet.”

“Most intriguing,” his voice calls out from the other room.

“It’s awfully early to be rerouting the highways. The chancellor isn’t even expected to arrive until the day of the talks—what was his name again?”

His isn’t gone but a heartbeat; then he is back by her side and refilling her cup with freshly brewed Ebony. “I don’t recall.”

But she isn’t looking at him, and instead her eyes remain fixed outside the window. It’s only after she gives up trying to resolve the paradox of the ominously silent roads that she finally peers up at him; when she does, it takes her mind half a second to register that he is standing before her wearing absolutely nothing at all.

It’s a good thing she hadn’t taken a sip of her coffee before processing that fact, lest she spurt hot brown liquid all over the breakfast table. “Goodness,” she breathes.

There are some within the palace walls who whisper that Ignis Scientia was born without a fundamental understanding of humor; the redhead would argue that most people simply haven’t spent enough time around him to witness his masterful skills in the art of deadpan.  “Something troubling you, Darling?” he asks, the faintest of grins touching his lips.

As hard as she tries, she is unable to contain her smile. “And what, might I inquire, is the meaning of this little exhibition?”

He sets the coffee pot down on the the kitchen counter and leans over for a chaste kiss. “You seem preoccupied with the details of my excursion. Thought maybe I could offer to help take your mind off things.”

She can’t quite stop herself from ogling at the eyeful of naked flesh hovering inches from her face. “How in the world did you get out of your clothes so quickly? I didn’t even hear your keys jingle in your pocket.”

“It’s a mystery, isn’t it?” He then reaches over and moves to unfasten the buttons of her blouse. “Speaking of, I daresay you appear to be wearing far too many articles yourself.”

His fingers move swiftly, and soon he is liberating her of her garment and discarding it on the window sill. “Don’t be absurd,” she says, but the sensation of his lips brushing against the crook of her neck leaves her hoarse. “If you aren’t planning on kicking me out of your apartment anytime soon, let’s at least move into the bedroom.”

“What for?” He stops his light caresses briefly to pluck her mug of Ebony from her hand before drawing her upright out of her chair and guiding her body against the breakfast table. “There’s a perfectly flat surface here we can use.”

“Be serious,” she admonishes, as he pushes his bare chest to hers. “This table won’t hold my weight, let alone both of ours.”

“Of course it will. I reinforced the brackets last night when I lowered the legs.”

“Lowered the…?” Confusion clouds her mind, but the gentle way he rakes his teeth along her sternum causes her to lose her train of thought entirely. One strong hand encircles her back and tackles the clasp of her undergarment with the precision of an expert locksmith, and suddenly both of their torsos are free from obstruction and his lips are pressed against hers.

“Is this all right?” he whispers, his fingers gliding lightly over her left breast. “You know how I hate to be a bother.”

Her eyelids flutter shut when he replaces his fingers with his tongue. “Does it look like I’m bothered?”

“In a sense.”

“Do you always talk this much in the mornings?”

He snorts softly against her nipple before kneeling, and resumes his slow journey down toward her hips. “Point taken.”

He then traces the waistband of her pants with inquisitive curiosity, coaxing the button loose and tugging gently on her slacks until she is free from the constraining accoutrement and is sitting on the breakfast table with her toes dangling off the floor. There is still the matter of her underwear in need of tending to, but the strategist is nothing if not strategic in his approach; with a finesse only an authority in the field of daggers could master, Ignis manages to strip her of her smallclothes while simultaneously throwing her legs over each of his shoulders.

Her hands immediately move to clutch at his tawny hair, and she lets out a gasp as he nuzzles the tip of his nose against the most private and intimate part of herself. But he doesn’t linger in one spot for long, and instead teases the insides of her thighs with light kisses interspersed with gentle nips of his teeth. When her trembling fingers reach for his face and knock his spectacles askew, he pauses a moment to readjust them.

“Leave them off,” she says. “I like you better without them.”

“I can hardly see a thing even with them on,” he replies, and continues his exploration.

She grips the edge of the table hard and silently curses the Six when his tongue strokes grow positively agonizing. “There’s nothing down there worth looking at. I can’t believe you’re willing to subject yourself to the view in such… anatomical detail.”

“On the contrary,” he murmurs. “It’d be a shame to lose what’s left of my sight when the scenery is as breathtaking as this.”

She laughs aloud at his attempts at flattery, but in truth, the sentiment warms her heart; he never once showed the slightest ounce of timidness around her body, and was clearly more than a little experienced at pleasuring a woman, if the magical fingers he was now pressing inside of her were any indication. She may not have even been his only paramour at the moment—exclusivity was never explicitly touched upon in their agreement—but it doesn’t matter, because her breath is growing ragged with each achingly slow lap of his tongue.

“Darling,” she pants, her eyes pressed closed, her fingernails digging into the taut muscles of his shoulders. “I don’t think I can take much more of this.”

He ignores her appeals for leniency and maintains a steady and rhythmic cadence; his fingers are moving faster now, his thumb rigid against her nub, shifting away for the briefest of instants only to be replaced by his strong tongue. She can no longer suppress the moans clawing their way up her throat as the pressure in her abdomen builds, and she bites down on the inside of her cheek so hard she can taste blood.

“Please,” she begs, her legs tightening around his neck. “You have to stop—“

But he doesn’t stop, and instead doggedly presses onward; he has his free hand gripped around her thigh, feeling her tendons clenching, sensing her heartbeat quickening, because she knows that as a strategist he is intimately aware of even the slightest changes in her body chemistry, and won’t yield to her request until he has pushed her to the other side of ecstasy.

She doesn’t have to wait long for him to conclude the torture. The first crest of her orgasm is already firing through every nerve ending of her body, and a cry escapes her lips with each subsequent wave. For a long moment, the only thing she can hear is the sound of her pulse screaming in her own ears; as the pounding in her heart subsides, and the blood returns to the knuckles she has flexed tightly around his arms, she opens her eyes to the image of Ignis drawing himself up to his full height.

Another, more arrogant lover might pat himself on the back and make some wry quip about successfully bringing her to climax; Ignis, on the other hand, is evidently content to leave his ego in check, because his only reaction to her trembling is to cover her slightly parted lips with his own. The flavor of her herself on his tongue sends her mind reeling and drives her to deepen their kiss, her hands gripping urgently at his spine and her legs wrapped tighter than Malboro tentacles around his slender hips.

But he appears to be in no hurry to indulge in his own pleasure, and instead tilts her back gently against the table’s surface before moving down to drag his mouth over the curves of her abdomen. Her hand reaches for his face only to get tangled up in his lenses again; this time, he finally discards his spectacles once and for all, tossing them over his shoulder without nary a second glance.

“Don’t be so flippant,” she scolds, although with the way his caresses are causing her back to arch upward, her reprimanding doesn’t quite meet her voice. “I should hate to be the reason you broke your glasses.”

“I’ve got another pair,” he says, his hot breath utterly electrifying against her skin.

It’s only when he leans into the table that she realizes why exactly he lowered it in the first place; her body immediately begins to ache when she feels his erection pressed against just the right spot between her thighs, and were she in a more coherent state of mind, she might’ve complimented him on his impressive ingenuity. But her brain is mired in the nebula of her own desire, and the singular reoccurring thought currently consuming her attention is the longing to feel his warmth inside of her.

If she hoped her sensual agony would end with her own climax, however, she is sorely mistaken; the strategist simply bides his time, nipping tenderly at her belly, tracing the outline of her breasts leisurely with his tongue, grasping the back of her knees firmly as her body begins to writhe beneath him. When she is forced to press her hand to her mouth to stifle her moans, he pries her fingers gently away from her face and laces them in his own.

“You best let go,” she says in a low voice, “unless you enjoy hearing me shout loud enough to alert the neighbors.”

“Music to my ears,” he purrs.

So she concedes to his restraints, because if Ignis Scientia wants to listen to the sounds of her euphoria, then she is more than happy to oblige. His lips are at her neck now, the stippled texture of his freshly-shaven jaw brushing up against her collarbone and eliciting a sharp hiss from her lungs. Her legs clench around his waist, but he resists being drawn in any closer, for this is a test of wills: her urgency to be fulfilled against the stalwart discipline that has come to define him.

She breaks first. “Ignis,” she whispers, “don’t make me beg for this.”

It is, perhaps, rather unfair of her to resort to such unsophisticated tactics; there are far more clever ways of getting him to do her bidding, but the man has so few weaknesses, and she knows that the mere hint of his name on her lips will impair the rational side of his brain long enough for primal instinct to take over. And besides—if he teases this out any longer, he’ll have a permanent stain of her fluids on the surface of his breakfast table to deal with afterward.

Her imploring has its desired effect; his previously tranquil expression flickers for a moment, and his hands tighten around her fingers. She watches as the wheels turn in his mind, turning, turning, always turning, always in control, until his features abruptly darken and she can see in his eyes that the urge to give has now been replaced by the impulse to take.

He doesn’t speak a word; he simply presses his mouth hard against hers, and moves to pin her wrists above her head with one hand. His other is already between both their legs, testing her readiness, testing his readiness, before suddenly and without warning he is plunging his searing heat into the folds of her warm flesh.

She says his name again, but it’s not a whisper like before; this time, it’s a cry of elation, loud enough for the neighbors to hear, loud enough for King Regis seated on his throne behind the palace walls two miles away to hear, loud enough for the Astrals themselves to look down from their omniscient plane of existence and take note. For there is no feeling in all of Eos quite like two bodies joining to become one, and no rapture greater—in this world or the next—than that offered by one Ignis Scientia.

His response is more reserved than hers, for she knows Ignis is a quiet lover; the flexing of his hand against her wrists and the lowering of his forehead to her chest is the only indication that there is a battle raging on inside his mind. Lose himself in her warmth, and this brief moment of exaltation will pass; wait too long, and he’ll begin to overthink things. The line they dance along is razor-thin, but they’ve done it together a hundred times or more, and she tilts her hips up against his to signal the beginning of their lascivious waltz.

He finally releases her wrists and drops his hands to her waist, burying himself ever deeper into her walls. She follows his lead and braces herself against his movements, stretching back and relishing in her newfound freedom by raking a loving hand through his feathery hair. His eyes are closed in concentration and his lips never leaves hers, except to suppress a carnal growl every now and again. Their bodies find a mutual harmony—just as they always do—and the only rational thought she is able to formulate in her mind in between bouts of pleasure is just how much time he must have spent last night reinforcing the table brackets to have them hold up as well as they are.

But even in her heightened state of arousal, she is perceptive to the nuanced changes in his behavior; he is working harder now, his brow furrowed, his thrusts more deliberate. She can sense his heart pounding in his ribcage, can feel the shortening of his breath against her throat, can even hear the silent gasps of ecstasy he tries so hard to conceal from her. She does what she can to temper his fervor and draw out this symphony of theirs, but the threads of her resolve have already frayed nearly beyond repair; her hands move without thinking, clutching at his lower back, urging his hips ever onward, scratching at the perfect porcelain skin that bears the scars of the royal onus bequeathed upon him.

Another change occurs; his quiet pants no longer leave his mouth, and instead he is is exhaling forcefully through his nose, like a beast of burden struggling under the weight of a heavy load. His movements grow more erratic as well, and his fingers have returned to her hands—not to pin them down against her will, but to clutch at her palms in desperation. He is close—she can feel it—and his mouth parts slightly as a single word escapes his lips. “I—”

She knows he will slow down if she lets him, so she doesn’t let him, because she wants his heat inside of her, wants his body to fill every inch of her own; the thought of losing everything they have built together in this moment is a betrayal the likes of which even the Infernian would not lower himself to. So she silences his reticence with a kiss, his waist captured between her legs in a vice grip, and lets her own cries of exhilaration work their wicked magic in his ears.

She can’t read his thoughts, but she can decipher the clues he leaves behind on the planes of his chiseled face; his jaw is clenched, his brow glistening with the efforts of his exertion, his eyes moving rapidly beneath his closed eyelids. And she can feel his warmth spreading inside of her just below her abdomen with each final drive of his hips, until the twitching in his muscles eventually subsides altogether and his he leans to rest his cheek upon her breasts. She holds his head in her arms and gazes down at his peaceful form; even in his state of utter exhaustion, she notices him shift his weight to his forearms so as not to crush her under the mass of his own body.

Silence falls over the apartment once more; a moment passes before he pushes himself upright from the table and offers her a hand. She sits up slowly and waits for the dizziness in her head to pass, then slides off the table and into the nearest chair before her knees have the chance to give out from under her.

She doesn’t even have to look up at him to know he has reverted back to his usual, aloof self; she simply takes the blouse he is holding out to her, reaches for her pants that have long since been discarded on the floor, and dresses herself quietly. This is how it always is; brief instances of passion smothered between long bouts of cordial formality. His remoteness could be downright suffocating at times, but it’s the bargain she’s made with him, the price she must pay for a small sliver of happiness.

The strategist retrieves his Crown City Chronicle from the table and resumes his seat across from her, Ebony in hand. She half-expects to glance over and see him already dressed—perhaps the ability the Lucian prince has bestowed upon him to summon weapons out of thin air extends to his wardrobe—but with the exception of his glasses that have once again taken up occupancy on his face, he is, notably, still sans clothing.

“What ever did happen to your clothes?” she asks, frowning as she buttons her tunic.

He crosses one knee over the other and sips nonchalantly at his Ebony, as if reading the morning paper and drinking coffee in the nude is as unremarkable as breathing. “I told you, it’s a mystery. Even to me.”

She can’t resist indulging in a smile; parting ways with him is always bittersweet, but she welcomes his effort at making light of things. “Well, you better find them before your trip. I’m sure Gladio won’t appreciate your naked physique quite the same way I do.”

“Indeed,” he says, his attention buried in his newspaper.

As she pulls on her trousers, she pauses. “Ignis?”

“Yes?”

“I know we have an agreement in place, but…”

“Go on. Spit it out.”

“I think I might miss you, is all.”

He raises an eyebrow behind his spectacles and holds her gaze for a long moment; then he shrugs and lifts his newspaper again to his nose. “Never fear, Darling. I’m sure everything will go quite smoothly in Altissia. I’ll be back in Insomnia before you know it.”

[necrospawnd-blog]

𝐃𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒         !!!

Name’s Marley. I’m 28 years old and a single Mother of two with a full time job and two other rp blogs. I won’t always be here and I don’t expect anyone else to always be here when I am. We all have lives and my children come before anything else. As long as we retain a mutual respect for our personal lives outside of the rp community everything will be great. If you want to get to know me simple interaction will get the ball rolling. Discord is available for any mutual’s who want it.

INTERACTIONS

i. I am mobile about 70% of the time meaning I can’t always look at someone’s blog when they follow me. Which means it MAY take a while before I DO follow you because I’ve decided to start looking at someone’s page and information/rules now before I do any following back. Unless I look at your posts and see something that strikes me as interesting enough to follow before I’ve taken a peak at all of your information. ii. This is a Mutuals only blog. Memes are open to anyone, not only mutuals. plotting calls, and starter calls are all for mutuals only unless stated otherwise in the tags. This is for my own sanity, mind you, as to not become overwhelmed. ii. I will not follow back anyone under the age of 18 years. I apologize in advance, but I am nearing my thirties and will not sugar coat my content. I understand that anyone under the age of 18 may feel free to follow, but I won’t follow back or interact with anyone under 18 years. I can’t force anyone under the legal age to not follow me, but I highly recommend that you don’t. iv. I do not do exclusives. I may, for very close people to me both ic/ooc due to the nature of our relationship, but as far as anyone is concerned I am open to multiples of the same canon muses to interact with.

v. Shipping !!! I absolutely love ships. If you feel like our muses have chemistry and you’d like to ship them please let me know ! If we’ve been writing for a while I’m pretty positive i’d be down for the ship the same as you. If there’s the off chance that I don’t, or you don’t ship our muses and I do? There’s absolutely no hard feelings. Platonic ships are just as important to me.

MESSAGING

Inbox: My inbox is open to anyone and everyone. Anons, followers, mutual follows. If you are a mutual you are free, at any time to turn a meme response into a thread. Just please make a new post and tag me, do not reblog. Hate/drama is not accepted on this blog. It will be ignored and deleted. [ I am also a meme hoarder. Please forgive me if I do not respond for some time and my memes pile up. uvu ] Instant messaging: if I follow you, this means that I DO want to interact with you. Please feel free to hop into my IM’s at any time. I may not respond right away, I may glance while mobile and make a mental note to respond later in the day but sometimes I DO forget. Please do not take this as me ignoring you, I’m simply slow and at times very forgetful. IM’s are for ooc/plotting only. Discord: I will provide my username upon request to mutuals only. Once you are added to my discord it is ALWAYS open for ic/ooc interactions. I sometimes, when busy am far more active in discord than I am here on tumblr. So feel free to start anything with me at any time on there. Although I can not promise I will be extremely quick to respond to that either.

IMPORTANT INFORMATION

i. God modding, it’s a given. Of course, drabbles, prompts at times require such a thing and I am okay with that. There are given circumstances during threads that are acceptable to make a semi-assumption of how my character may react. Just give my muse the option to react. ex. Throwing a hit towards my muse. They may be able to deflect, or they may be distracted etc. to do anything about it. It should be common knowledge by now how this works. ii. PERSONAL BLOGS. please do not reblog content from my blog unless the tags give permission to do so! Do not reblog threads. DO NOT REBLOG THREADS. iii. If I unfollow you do not come to me and complain. I have a right to unfollow anyone I choose. Whether it’s lack of interaction, or for the main part, the content you post. I will unfollow anyone constantly caught up in drama, anyone who makes excessive rants shooting up red flags that you’re just here for the attention and not to write. Anyone drama driven. honestly it’s distasteful and will earn you an automatic unfollow from me. iv. I judge a blog from the first 3 pages. If I can’t make it 5 pages in without seeing callouts or constant drama having been every other post. I will not follow you. Do not try to bring me in to your callout drama. I will STOP interacting with you. I am HIGHLY against callout culture and un-necessary aggression in the rpc that is used to seek out attention and a following base to gain popularity. psa’s are for IMPORTANT matters in the rpc, not your personal drama. v. Theme bg, icons, edits that state in the tags that they belong to me that say [  PLEASE DO NOT REBLOG ], threads, bio etc. all belong to me. While all the muses on this page are CANON. Their headcanon’s and how I choose to diverge each one outside of canon belong to me.

CONTENT

The majority of my muses have a strong R rating. There will be triggering and mature content on this blog. Please be aware of that before you choose to follow. I currently do not tag trigger warnings for basic things like blood or nsfw content in my writing, but will tag triggering content in images under tw ____. If I don’t tag something that triggers you [ Because there are a lot of triggers these days and I can’t keep up ] Please let me know and I will do my best to make sure that content is tagged appropriately.

Credit for the psd i use goes to @kingsleigh

[adambstingus]

33 People Confess The Shittiest Thing They’ve Ever Done

Found on AskReddit.

1. I told an adopted girl, I can see why your parents hate you.

When I told an adopted girl, I can see why your parents hate you.

2. THIS IS WHY GOD GAVE YOUR WIFE CANCER.

Learning guitar from uncle. Can’t do it. He said something like, Its easy, come on, you can do it!

Cue: THIS IS WHY GOD GAVE YOUR WIFE CANCER.

I mean fuck if any of you can top that I will be surprised; I was a little shit. Aunt ended up dying of cancer by the way.

3. Can you wait until you get home to start crying?

The other day my friend was in my car and said, I feel like I’m about to start crying. My immediate response was, Okaywell, can you wait until you get home to do that?

4. Stirred a coworkers drink with my dick.

I was pissed at a coworker who kept pushing her religion on me and I retaliated by stirring her drink with my dick after she had left it unattended. It was a silent victory for me. I look back on it and know that I’m a horrible human being for what I’ve done.

5. I intentionally broke a girls crayons while she cried.

When I was in 1st grade, I accidentally stepped on and broke a crayon this girl had while she was coloring on the ground. She started crying a lot about her broken crayon, so I looked her dead in the eyes and said I can’t be friends with sissy’s who cry over crayons. I then proceeded to intentionally step on and break the rest of her crayons.

6. Saw a man bleeding on the roadside and kept driving.

I was driving my ex home from the movies, and we chanced across a wreck on the roadside. The driver’s head was lolled on his shoulder, openly bleeding and obviously in need of assistance. My ex kept insisting, Keep driving. Someone will help him.

I feel like shit that I let her run me like that; I can’t believe I wasn’t the one to help him.

7. I made a Holocaust joke to a Jewish girl.

We were watching a doc about the Holocaust in journalism class (?)I was sitting behind a Jewish girl and right after they bulldozed a pile of dead bodies into a ditch I asked her if she recognized anyone on the screen.

As soon as it came out, I was horrified. we both participated in off-color inappropriate joking before, but this was next-level.

What a shitty thing to say. Im still ashamed.

8. I yelled at my grandfather and he died before I got a chance to say Im sorry.

I once yelled at my grandfather because he didn’t allow me to go over to a friends house because it was almost lunch time. He died before I got a chance to say sorry, gonna live with that for the rest of my life.

9. You want a medal or a chest to pin it on?

Sitting at a table with friends at college when a girl and her friend join us cause she knew one of my friends. Girl’s a real jerk to everyone. She hones in on my good friend who is insecure. Nervous laughter from everyone so she goes harder.

I stop her and, half-jokingly say, wow, good one. You want a medal or a chest to pin it on? (She was seriously flat as a board)

Girl stands up crying and runs out of the building. Turn to everyone cause no idea how that should be the reaction.

Friends tell me, She had breast cancer when she was 16 and had to have them removed. Only happened a few years ago.

Nice.

10. Threw sand in a kid’s face.

Threw sand in a kid’s face once. We were playing in the sandbox and I was trying to demonstrate that it exploded so I threw a bunch of sand in the air. 97% of it went right into his face. I was an adult.

12. I watched a guy pepper spray a sleeping homeless man on the train and was too scared to do anything to stop it.

I watched a guy pepper spray a sleeping homeless man on the train and was too scared to do anything to stop it. It happened a few months ago and I keep replaying it in my head, wishing I’d done something.

13. Emily, Im sorry.

When I was around 15 I met a girl online and we quickly fell in love, as hormonal teenagers are prone to do. Her parents went away during the school summer break, leaving her home alone for a while and she invited me to come and stay with her as our first face-to-face meeting.

I took the train down to where she lived but on arrival my heart sank. Even though I’d seen pictures of her, she didn’t really resemble the image my love-struck 15-year-old mind had built up. Mutual awkwardness and disappointment became the theme of our first day together so much so that I decided that, not only was I going to go back home the very next day (I think I was supposed to stay for a whole week) but I didn’t want to see or speak to her again.

Just before I left I crept into her room and erased my number from her phone. Then it occurred to me that she had an inbox full of text messages from my number so I had to re-creep into her room and stealthily delete all of those, thus ‘deleting’ myself from her life.

I left and never heard from her again (although she did have my email address). That was about 17 years ago and I still feel very shitty about what I did.

Emily, I’m sorry.

14. Convinced a girl to blow me, them made her take the bus home.

Late, at party for my birthday, managed to chat a cute girl into blowing me. Was too drunk/tired/high on myself after to get her home properly so I made her take the bus. Not a heartbreaking moment but a real ass move.

15. She even tried to take my shirt off and I just reached into my backpack and pulled a different shirt out. I know, I’m terrible.

Hooked up with a coworker at her house after a party. After we had finished she asked me to stay and cuddle, obviously douchebag didn’t wanna stay and cuddle. I had made up my mind to walk home shitfaced at 3am. She even tried to take my shirt off and I just reached into my backpack and pulled a different shirt out. I know, I’m terrible.

Cue next day rolling around and at work I ask where she is and my boss tells me that she is spreading her mom’s ashes back in her home state and she was taking a few days off. That’s when I knew I was a real piece of shit.

Bonus points, she survived cancer a few months later.

16. I purposely smudged an old lady janitors mopping job.

Probs around age ten I was this piece of shit edgelord.Flash-forward to me in a McDonalds. Old janitor lady is mopping the floor. What does shitty ten-year-old me do? Walk across the mop trail and swish my feet to intentionally smudge it.

Gods I can barely think about it. Not even because I’m pissed or ashamed at myself but because of just that was, be it myself doing it or anyone else. This was probably an old lady barely able to make ends meet, trying to do whatever job she could…probably never wanted to hurt a soul. Then comes along some shitty rich kid who does something completely fucking douchey like ruin a mop job. Sure, not the most monstrous thing at face value, but put all of what I just said together and…fucking hell. That is dickish. I feel bad about it to this day; even writing about it is hard.

17. I refused help to a man who needed it.

I was walking out of a 7-11 gas station a couple of blocks from my apartment building late at night (no one else was there). An old, run down car pulled in and the driver rolled down the window and called over to me. He was clearly very upset and looked like he’d been crying. He told me he just found out his daughter had been in an accident and had been airlifted to a hospital about an hour away. He was trying to get there, but he was almost out of gas and didn’t have any money on him. He pleaded with me for anything I could spare. I told him I didn’t have any cash on me, and I went on my way.

That was a lie. I had plenty of cash on me, and regardless I had my cards on me with which I could’ve bought him some gas. I got about halfway home, thought about what I’d just done, and went back, but he was already gone. I went home where my friends were drinking, and I just sat on the couch and didn’t talk to anyone the rest of the night.

What the hell was wrong with me? Was I so jaded from living in a big city with panhandlers regularly asking for money that I couldn’t recognize when someone might genuinely need my help? The emotion on that man’s face was real, as was the pain in his voice. I don’t think I’ll forget the desperate please! as long as I live. Was it really that big of a risk to give this guy $20? Would that loss to me if he was some Broadway-class con man really be that bad when weighed against the possibility that I just let down a father going through the worst moment of his life?

What if his daughter didn’t make it, and he didn’t get to see her before she passed because some cynical asshole at the gas station couldn’t spare a few dollars? I hope that wasn’t the case, that his daughter was fine, and that someone with more compassion was able to help him…or better yet, that there was no accident and he was playing me. Thinking about the alternative has kept me awake at night on multiple occasions.

Ever since then I have tried to keep a more open mind and give people the benefit of the doubt, so that the next time I’m in a position to help someone who needs me, I won’t fail them.

I don’t think the guy wanted money for drugs. Anyone who works with drug addicts like I do would know that a true addict wouldn’t have any car, no matter how crap, that could be sold for even a few bucks that could get them another fix. Also, my neighborhood wasn’t anywhere near the drug corners, and he didn’t have the physical indicators.

18. Did not visit my grandfather this Christmas. He died four days later

Did not visit my grandfather this Christmas. I had two vacation days from work which I used to visit someone I had been dating for a month on Thursday and Friday. Then at my parents place for the holiday and back to work the next week. My grandfather passed away on 29th of December last year. I’m a real piece of shit.

I made damn sure to drive the some 220km to leave a candle for him at a veteran memorial stone on New Year’s Eve. At the town he had lived for his whole life.

19. Told my mom I wanted to name my kid after my dad.

Was having a chat with my brother, sister, and mother about names for kids. promptly say that I don’t like the idea of naming my kid after a family member but if I did it would be my fathers name. At the end of this rambling, mildly insulting speech I look straight at my mom and say because I love Dad. Immediately realized that implied that I didn’t love my mother enough to name my kids after her. I tried retracing my steps and covering up my mistake, she laughed and joked about it, but her face showed that she was pretty hurt. Broke my heart that I could be that careless, that woman’s done nothing but good for me.

20. Told my host he looked like Butt-head.

Hung out with the host of a New Years party for a bit. Drank some of his beer and said, hey you kinda look like Butt-head from that show. He said he gets it a lot.

21. I kicked a girl out of my house after some lackluster sex.

I had a girl come over for some extracurricular activities. She was drinking and assumed she was staying the night. After we had very lackluster sex I went down stairs smoked a bowl, walked back upstairs and kicked her out of my house. Definitely an ass move.

22. My friend was counting change, so I knocked all his coins on the ground.

A friend of mine was counting his change on the entrance of our work. We were about to clock in when I asked him What you got there? He shows me with his hand open and I just tapped it from the bottom, all his coins fell on the floor with all the people passing by.

I laughed and left, felt pretty shitty after but when I went to apologize he laughed it off and said he’ll get me next time.

23. Best friend’s boyfriend died during the best summer of my life and I was a piece of shit.

After graduating college I spent the summer backpacking around the world. It was the most amazing thing I had ever done; I was kind of shy before but the experience gave me a new-found confidence. Once I was back home I was a hit at bars regaling new friends with stories and was finally successful with attracting the opposite sex. I was having the time of my life.

While I was gone by best friend’s boyfriend overdosed and died at Bonnaroo. A little back story we became friends because she put me back together after a breakup. Stayed with me and cooked for me, but did I return the favor when I came home… no :/

I was too busy having the time of my life. Shortly after I got home she crashed her car and got a DUI. She was in a downward spiral and I ignored her. We were working a shift together after that and I, still in euphoria from the night before, said to her I can’t believe how my life keeps getting better and better and yours just gets worse.

I didn’t realize what I had said until months later. It’s been years and I still think back on that moment. I could have been there for her but I was just a selfish piece of shit.

tldr: Best friend’s boyfriend died during the best summer of my life and I was a piece of shit.

24. Brought a morning-after pill to a woman I’d fucked the day prior while she was in the hospital after another guy beat the shit out of her.

Brought a morning-after pill to a woman I’d fucked the day prior while she was in the hospital after another guy beat the shit out of her.

25. I wanted to meet a gay guy so I could make fun of him.

I was very sheltered as a kid. I went to a private Christian elementary and middle school with 16 people in my 8 the grade class. When I was in 9th grade, I went to my first public school. No one knew me, so I felt like I had to be cool.

One day a friend of mine mentioned that her cousin was gay. I had never met a gay person before. I was genuinely curious if he was just as they appear on TV. So I asked her who he was, wanting to get the chance to meet him. She asked why I wanted to know who he was. Trying to be cool and not like I was genuinely curious, I replied, so I can make fun of him.

The girl sitting in front of me who I had never heard say a word, just turned around and said you’re a dick. It was the first and last thing she ever said to me.

I’ve never felt like more of a piece of shit in my life than that moment.

26. I gave a girl her first kiss as part of a bet.

I started a bet with a friend in middle school that we could get this wholesome straightedge girl to kiss one of us. I won the bet at a super romantic moment at a friend’s pool party by a roaring fire but had no real feelings for the girl. A little while later her friend told me that was her first kiss and she really liked me and was heartbroken when she found out about the bet. She has to live her whole life with that as her first kiss. I’m friends with her on FB and 15 years later she is absolutely beautiful and I still feel awful.

27. I threw a brick over my backyard fence and hit a kid in the head.

I threw a brick over my backyard fence just cause, and actually hit a kid in the head. It was a pretty bad cut. When his parents and my mom came out I just pointed at my brother and he got the ass whoopin’ of a life time. I was like 6.

28. Ran over a birdtwice.

Was driving on a winding road on my way to a job on the countryside when I hit a bird with the car. Stopped the car briefly and saw in my rear-view that it was flapping around until it just sat still in the middle of the road, probably trying to recover from the beating it had taken. I considered stepping out of my car and move the poor bird to the side of the road so it wouldn’t get hit by another car but remembered that flock-living birds can get “expelled” by their flock if they carry an unknown scent. I also figured that this was far off in the countryside in Sweden, and the likelihood of another car passing by anytime soon was close to none.

I was on my way back home about an hour and a half later. My meeting with the client had been a huge success so I was in a great mood, singing to the radio and was probably driving a bit over the limit. I drove up a small crest and on the other side was the same fucking bird sitting in the middle of the road exactly where I left it, I had totally forgotten about it! It was turned towards me and I swear it looked me straight in the eyes, silently cursing at me in its chirpy bird-language as I inevitably drove straight over it for the second time…

Once again I could see the bird being slammed to the asphalt numerous times in my rearview-mirror before disappearing down the slope into the woods.

I’m entirely convinced this bird will dedicate his afterlife to haunting me from the other side for the rest of my life…

29. Girlfriends mom tried killing herself, so I went home to drink.

Was watching with my then girlfriend. Lots of bad things happened that night that we were unaware of, and in the end her dad stormed into our room shouting get upstairs now and call 999. Her mum tried to commit suicide by an overdose on something I’m not aware of. Her mum/dad goes off in the ambulance and my ex is hysterical, crying panicking etc. My uncle at the time also tried to hang himself a few nights previous…. I used this as an excuse to leave my ex for the night, go home and get drunk. I will never forget the tears I left my ex in, while I went home to drink.

30. Convinced a girl high as a kite who had the tiniest cut on her finger that she will die from infection.

Convinced a girl high as a kite who had the tiniest cut on her finger that she will die from infection and have it amputated or if she didn’t go hospital it would spread and lose her arm. She started crying, called her mum, and went to hospital.

31. I’ve had sex with 2 friends’ gfs…while they were still dating them.

I’ve had sex with 2 friends’ gfs…while they were still dating them. A decade of regret and lost friendships is the result.

32. Told a suicidal girl to go kill herself.

Met a girl through and online game that was a legitimate train wreck. Sending nudes to basically everyone at the age of 12, smoked and drank on the daily at 13 or 14, did coke and speed at 15. Girl was a major bitch and a manipulator to basically everyone, and had no one who cared about her as a result. I tried being the first.

As I said, she ended up being a massive manipulator and one of the only people I’ve ever branded as irredeemable. Checked in on her some years later, and asked her how she’s been. Said she was probably gonna kill herself, to which I replied Yeah, you go do that, and then blocked her.

Is that fucked-up? Yeah. Do I care if she actually killed herself? Can’t say that I do.

33. Kneed a neighborhood kid in the nuts for no reason.

Kneed a neighborhood kid in the nuts for no reason at all when I was like 9 or 10…I was a little shit as a kid.

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/2017/11/02/33-people-confess-the-shittiest-thing-theyve-ever-done/ from All of Beer https://allofbeercom.tumblr.com/post/167051727832