#and then I realized how messy and fun it is to say they cannot leave each others side

[shaykai]

Okay okay okay consider Durgetash tether AU

Gortash & Durge are messing around with an artifact (from Mephistopheles’ vault?) and it ends up tethering them together (like Legend of Spyro- they can only move so far away from each other and the tether isn’t visible unless it’s actively being strained or interacted with)

They can’t figure out how to deactivate it, antics ensue (they can’t hurt each other while it’s active?)

Gortash has to put up with Durge being present in all of his meetings and just praying to god they behave themselves and don’t try to maim anybody/that nobody takes too much interest in their presence

There’s also the Urge- Gortash knows about it but now he actively has to help in dealing with it- whether that be going on murder sprees far too often for his liking or finding out the unfortunate consequences of neglecting it

Them getting weirdly close and open because they kind of have to be to function

Neither of them have easy access into their respective cult spaces/temples anymore- bringing a Banite into Bhaal’s temple is basically a heresy.

That being said, Durge can only stay away for so long before it’s problematic- it looks bad when they’ve been missing for a week and the last time they were seen was with Gortash.

Jump cut to Durge forcing Gortash to wear normal cultist attire and telling him to keep his mouth shut lest somebody recognize his voice.

Something about Orin cornering Durge and asking where they’ve been before realizing there’s a ‘cultist’ just. Standing there. Djdjdjjdjdjd Naturally she threatens to kill him if he doesn’t leave and Durge has to hurry up and make excuses and then probably run away with Gortash before Orin can clock that it’s him

Sceleritas is one of the only people who knows the situation and is tirelessly searching for a solution so that his “beloved Durge can be free of their greasy leach”

Something something people clocking that it’s weird that they’re always so close to each other (gonna say they can’t be more than 10 feet apart)- more so at places like Moonrise where nobody knows who Durge really is and want to know who it is that’s following Gortash around

Gortash having to deal with the gnolls because Durge refuses to leave them alone

Also Durge getting somewhat familiarized with mechanics and learning how they work

Ketheric genuinely not knowing that they’re tethered together for entirely too long

Balthazar being a problem if he ever finds out because he wants to do science

Also them having to learn how to fight while being stuck together

Something about their walk speeds being different- Gortash has a cane for a reason and it takes Durge a while to stop speed walking everywhere. (Gortash can match their pace, but after a while it does take a toll)

Messy sleeping arrangements

Them having to deal with each other’s triggers/really bad days TM

[unluckywisher]

MY GRANDMA SOLD ME TO LOVE AND DEEPSPACE????

A/N: This is exactly what you think it is. 2013 called and they want their Wattpad fanfics back. Cringe and cheesy and stupid and OOC on purpose. Let's have fun and relive this beautiful era of the internet. I wrote this as fast as I could and without checking for mistakes, in the true fashion of these fics. Written in first person, and using 'y/n'. Xavier, Rafayel, Zayne, Sylus and Caleb are in a band called 'Love and Deepspace'.

Part 1?

I woke up after hearing some people talking downstairs, which was strange, because usually it's just me and my grandma, Josephine. Ugh, visitors?

I got out of bed and went to the bathroom. I was wearing a One Direction shirt and pajama pants, and honestly I didn't feel like changing, so I just threw my hair in a messy bun and went back to my room to check my phone before going downstairs.

Like always, I had no new messages. Not even from my best friend. Well, 'ex' best friend. Ever since we went to that Love and Deepspace concert she had been a bitch to me, all because one of the singers looked at me during the concert, which I didn't even want to go to in the first place, I went so she wouldn't be alone, that's why I took a book with me to read while they performed. But it just so happened that one of the boys on the stage saw me with the book and kinda looked at me and smiled, which made her really jealous.

Anyways, I'm not like other girls. They all like this new boyband, but not me. I like reading. The guy that looked at me wasn't even that hot or anything.

But back to the present, I headed downstairs, and...

"Y/n! Why are you still in your pajamas?" Scolded my grandma, who was surrounded by a bunch of guys. "We have visitors!"

The visitors nodded and waved a hand at me, smiling.

I looked at them, and realization slowly dawned on me. These were... These were the Love and Deepspace boys. What were they doing here!?

"Grandma, what's going on?" I frowned.

"We have no money left. Your grandpa, may his soul rest in peace, left us with a debt that I cannot continue paying. That is why I'm selling you to the town's mafia." She explained.

"Wh-wh-what?" I gasped, stumbling like I was about to faint. "M-m-mafia!? Is there no other way to solve this!? Can't I start working part time!?" I tried to find another solution.

"No, my little unicorn. Now, pack your bags, you're leaving right now." She turned back to the men and started lively talking to them.

My orbs looked down, tears starting to form, and I ran back to my room, slamming my door in anger. How could she do this to me? Didn't she love me?

I took all my things and put them in a suitcase, and everything conveniently fit inside as I closed the zipper with no problem.

There were so many things I didn't understand. First, what kinda shady business was my grandpa part of when he was alive? Second, had my grandma always been looking for ways to get rid of me? I mean, she kept making jokes about killing me over and over, but they were just that, jokes, right? Thirdly, the famous boyband LADS was apparently a mafia?

I let out a breath I didn't realize I had been holding as I walked downstairs again, still on my pajamas. I was too depressed to change my clothes.

"Ready, cutie?" Said the purple-haired guy with a wink.

I huffed, making him laugh.

"Someone's not in a good mood." Pointed out the black haired guy.

You think, smartass?

"She should be, a lot of girls would die to be in her shoes..." Said the brown haired guy, playfully.

I want to die alright.

"I'm sure she'll warm up to us." Said the white haired guy, smirking.

In your dreams.

"Well, for now, maybe we should get properly introduced." Concluded the ashy blond.

I didn't say any of what I was thinking out loud, but I wish I did. The last guy was right, though, because I actually didn't know their names, I hadn't bothered to ever learn them, not even when my ex best friend invited me to their concert.

One by one, they introduced themselves as Rafayel, Zayne, Caleb, Sylus and Xavier. Names I probably would forget later, since I didn't care about any of this, much less them.

"I'm Y/n." I said weakly. The events were taking a toll on me, and it showed on my voice.

"Well, introductions done, it's time to leave," said my grandma, pushing everyone out of the door with surprisingly strong arms, "have fun, Y/n. And you boys can transfer the money this afternoon, yes? Good. See ya!"

I couldn't believe her. How was she so unaffected by the fact that her only grandchild was being sold?

"Here," Caleb took my suitcase, "I'll carry it to the van."

How nice. Not. What kind of intentions did they have with me? I didn't trust them one bit.

"You know, a smile might do you good," said Rafayel, poking my face.

I swatted his hand away, and he made an exaggerated face of pain, moving away like I was some sort of vile creature.

"She comes from a poor family, do you think she has rabies?" He protested. I facepalmed.

"Don't worry, I'll do a medical check-up on her once we arrive," said Zayne calmly.

I wanted to sink to the ground and curl up to cry. How were these men treating me like this... So naturally?

Sylus opened the van door for me and I got in. Once everyone was seated, Zayne started driving. Away from my home... And into the unknown.

Should I do part 2 and lemons at some point?

Divider by @/cafekitsune

[madamechrissy]

But it's Better if You Do

ৎ୭ Pairings ৎ୭ Nanami Kento x Fem Reader

ৎ୭ Warnings ৎ୭ MDNI- This chapter- Rough sex, overstimulation, forced orgasm, choking, lap dance, edging, two girls making out bc why not lol

ৎ୭ Word Count ৎ୭ 7,317 

ৎ୭ Summary ৎ୭ Every weekday for a year, Nanami Kento comes into the coffee shop you work at, and he orders the same damn thing. You have it bad but are too nervous to do more than doodle on his cups. You have a double life, because you're also 'Foxy' a featured dancer at a strip club once a week. A bachelor party for Satoru Gojo has you dancing, and he's there. Nanami fucking Kento. You end up both in a VIP room, awkward, nervous, but then... it's your chance. He doesn't know it's you, right? What harm can a lap dance do? Surely won't be awkward the next day...

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Nanami Kento stares down at you as you sleep, the lights from the blinds illuminating your glowing skin, shining on your messy hair, curling in places after the shower you all had taken last night. It had not been long and you both had crashed out, and here he was, an arm around your waist, hand wrapped up right under one of your lush breasts, nearly spilling out in your tank top.

He pauses, aching, his cock hard again, the thoughts of you cumming around him last night driving him fucking insane as he is pressed against your round ass, right on where he was throbbing. But it was more than that, Kento had experience, he loved the female body… but something about you…

As ‘Foxy’ or just as you, he couldn’t get you out of his mind, the constant thoughts, wanting to see you, all those times he’d fucked it up he’d wanted to talk, he just hadn’t known how to. Those doodles on his cups made him smile, the little yawns you made as you made his coffee were so cute, but now he knew your moans, your sighs, your cries.

You stir in your sleep, pressing your ass more against him, pulling his hand gently around to yourself, murmuring something. He feels such a tenderness he cannot describe, he’d just stay here forever next to you and watch you. That thought scared him a bit, but if you were going to be brave and open, he would try to be as well.

Railing you on a wall sounds fun to him.

But so does kissing you.

You awaken against a hard, warm body, smiling contentedly when you realize it’s Nanami Kento, snuggled up behind you, his cock eager against your ass. You wiggle a bit, enjoying the catch in his breath, before you peek back at him, smiling, realizing he’s wide awake. He smirks back at you, hand reaching up to cup one of your breasts, fallen out of your top now.

“You stayed.” You say softly, and he nods, kissing the side of your head, your temple, your cheek. You sigh happily, enjoying each caress far too much, the scent of him, the feel of him…

“Of course I did. I have a lot to do today but I wasn’t leaving until you woke up. You’re too pretty when you sleep.” He muses, as fingers casually pluck one of your little nipples, bringing it taut and eliciting a gasp.

“I was worried you’d be gone. Run away from me.”

“Why would I?”

“I’m kind of crazy, you know.”

“I like it.” His laugh tickles your ear, and you’re growing wet between your thighs, the heat against his cock in his boxers, between your thin little shorts apparent, he slides a hand down your tummy, making it tremble, finding your clit. “Fuck… you just wake up this wet?”

“Next to you, yes. Mmm.” You hiss in pleasure as he runs those lazy little circles on your clit, making pleasure run through your body, trembling for more. “Kento…” You whisper. He moans.

“Yes, darling?” His voice turns you on more, the little growl when he continues to press hard behind you, but gentle against your clit, so light.

“Fuck me, please.” You ask, looking up at him, seeing his sleepy hazel eyes and messed up blond hair, falling just so, you arch and brush it back, he has your shorts down in seconds then, and you’re soaking now. “Mnh, yes, please.”

“Put your leg up.” He orders softly, you do as he says, one leg up and around his thigh, and his finger sinks in you deep, making you clench around it, tight, when he massages that spot you can’t even see. “Can you take another in this tight little cunt?”

He’s playing too gently, too easy, torturing you, teasing you. You nod eagerly, as he slides another in you, stretching out your sore cunt, and yes, you were sore… Nanami was huge. But it was a delicious ache. Well fucking worth it, and you want more. All of him envelops you, your every sense as he sucks on your neck and fucks you with his fingers.

“Please, Kento… I can take it.” You murmur, then he is sliding his fingers out and shoving them in your mouth.

“See how good you taste?” His cock is thick at your entrance, making you moan around his fingers, so deep down your throat. You taste your desire, taste his skin, sucking them clean and hearing him grunt then, that hand now lifting your leg, and he’s pressing into you.

“Yes, yes… so good. Ah!” You nearly scream, hips bucking as he presses in deep all at once, so different from the bit by bit last night. “Too much, fuck!” You are shaking, so full, pussy stretched more, and he’s still inside you, so deep you can’t fathom, fingertips sliding up your thigh.

“You said ‘I can take it’ huh? So bratty. And stubborn.” He admonishes in a husky voice, sliding out then back in, and you cry out, one hand clutching the pillow under you, the other on his forearm, trying to breathe.

“I can… just a minute… Fuck.” He guides your hand, pressing your fingertip on your clit then, and you gasp.

“Play with her for me, would you darling? I want her even wetter around my cock.” 

You do so, fingers trembling, and he slides out and in again, the force knocking you forward, so good but so painful. An insane mix of sensations, all while you try to rub your clit.

“Mnh! Ah.” You never have words around him.

“Ready for me to move, love?” You nod, eagerly. He grips your thigh tightly again, spreading you wider for him. “Don’t stop playing with yourself.”

“Yes. Yes. Won't. Hmm.” He starts fucking you now, from behind, and it starts to feel too good, too much, goosebumps everywhere he touched, pressed against, breathed on. Your entire body is hypersensitive as he hits your cervix with that thick long cock of his.

He’s moaning, and your hands struggle to move, just staying there now, head tilting back for more of his possessive kisses, marking you his… so gently but so furiously at the same time. Making you cry out with every thrust, every grip, his cock hitting places that made you see stars, losing focus. You’re close, so close, tightening around him and making him tense.

“Darling, I didn’t say you could stop.” He says softly, pressing your fingers back, and now your wetness is all over his fingers too, dripping down on his cock as it stretches you out with every movement. You scream, starting to lose it, and he stops, making you ache.

“Kento! I’m close, so close.” You wiggle back, but he holds you, making you sigh in frustration, pussy pulsing around his thickness.

“You can’t come if you don’t listen to me, darling, you need to learn this.” You scowl up at him, angered by his smirk, pussy hurting now.

“My fingers can’t work, they’re too shaky. You do it.” You put his fingers on your clit, crying out at the sensation, but he puts yours back then. “Ugh! Kento, you’re so sadistic! Let me cum.”

“Do as you’re told. Or I’ll pull out.” He starts to do so, and you panic, putting your finger back, annoyed by his laugh. “Good girl.”

“Meanie.” You grumble, but start to move your fingers, and he’s fucking you again, bringing you close with ridiculous speed, and soon he has a hand around your throat, and you gasp, hands stopping again.

“Ah-ah.”

“Fuck…” You struggle as you grow slippery now, little fingers falling off your swollen little clit, but you keep on, and then you’re cumming around him, blinded, and your tired hand falls. “Kento… Ah!”

“Good girl, cum all over my cock. You feel so good.” He says, taking your sore little fingers and sucking on them, groaning.

“So good. So good.” You’re shaking, hard to take a breath, and his hand is back up your chest, resting on your throat. You wildly think that you want him to choke you, that possessive hand so big around your throat. “Kento…”

“Mmm, yes? Fuck.” He pushes deep, and you both cuss out loud, so deep in your cervix it’s almost too much to take.

“Choke me, please.” You say softly, and his hand slides up more, encircling your delicate throat, and putting the slightest pressure, easing out just a bit and sliding in slower now, you’re soaking the bed and his cock.

“Are you sure, darling… I don’t want to hurt you.” He hesitates, and you look back at him, his eyes lidded like yours, pleasure and desire mirrored in their reflection, just like you. You smile.

“You’d never hurt me. I trust you.” His lips part, then he nods, kissing you softly first, the first kiss this morning.

“If it’s too much please tap my arm.” You nod, eager, and then he’s squeezing your throat with that strong hand, fucking you again, and you fall deeper into the mind numbing pleasure, screams stuck in your throat.

He’s railing you, fucking deep, sliding in and out easier as you grow impossibly wet, as he grows impossibly hard, the only sounds in your room were your choked out moans and his quiet groans, along with the wetness and the snaps of his hips, slamming harder and harder. You’re about to cum again, losing your senses aside from how you feel, brain going fuzzy.

You feel yourself fading as you reach your peak, his hand on your throat firm as it sucks away the air from your lungs, and you fall apart, screaming but sounds don’t come out, it’s just choked gasps. You throb around him, wetness slicking from you, body on fire as pleasure like you hadn’t known consumes you, and you can’t even fucking breathe, it’s all Nanami.

He eases the hold, and you gasp for air greedily, body humming and pulsing, electrified as oxygen comes back in, little black spots as your vision comes back, he grabs your face and kisses you deeply, easing his thrusts. You’re crying, tears hot and sticky, mingling with the taste of his lips, owned by his every move. He presses deep, you scream into his lips.

“You feel fucking exquisite around me.” He says, and you giggle breathlessly, kissing him again, arching your ass back.

“You’re so fancy, Nanami.” He laughs a bit too, nipping your shoulder

“Hmm… So fucking good, that better?”

“I liked exquisite. Ah!” He starts thrusting again, and you feel another orgasm about to hit your exhausted body, clenching your tummy.

“I’m close, darling…” His movements are jerky, his hands gripping tight, your waist, your rib cage, not the gentle touches, he was consumed in you too. You moan, nodding.

“Do you want to… cum… in me?” He freezes, grip so tight you actually wince in pain, breathing heavily behind you. “Fuck… don’t if you- too much?”

“No… I want to cum inside of you so bad.” He says, reassuring you, and then he has you flipped, under him, pulling out and pushing back in, a leg over his shoulder, hazel eyes studying your every movement. You moan, reaching up to cup his face, hips rising to meet his thrusts. “Do you want it?”

You nod eagerly. “Yes. Please. Cum inside me.” You whisper, wildly, knowing how intimate it was, knowing you hadn’t done it, but you wanted it, as you were watching his brows lower over his eyes, the muscles in his arms flex, and he’s fucking you hard now.

“So eager for me to fill you up, darling?” He says softly, dominating you as he started fucking so hard your headboard smacked against your wall, you had to hang on tight, nodding again. “Will you take all this cum like a good girl?”

“Yes, fucking all of it. Please. Unh!” You start screaming out as he has you rising again, more intense, thicker and harder in you, then you feel him, pulsing in you, hot cum shooting up to your cervix, filling you, and you’re cumming around it, eyes shutting, he squeezes your cheeks.

“Look at me when you cum.” You struggle to keep your eyes open, cumming all over him, now you’re pulsing around him, and he’s pressing in one more time, teeth gritted, creased forehead, kissing you. You drink his moans, his sighs, wrapping your arms around him, legs shaky, arms trembling, struggling to breathe.

“Fuck.” You manage to say after a moment, he eases off you, looking down and brushing your hair back, kissing your forehead. You sigh happily, eyes fluttering shut, enjoying the feeling of his warm lips, as you both come down.

“That was perfect. You took me so well, even though she’s so tiny.” He encourages you, and the words make you ache more, he’s still inside of you, your cum starting to slide out around you both.

“That was perfect. All of it.” You kiss him, little pecks on his firm lips, smiling a little shyly up, and he has a flush to his cheeks too. “I haven’t… done that.”

“No?” You shake your head. “Did you like it?”

“Oh I loved it.” He smirks, pleased clearly, and you giggle. “Have you?”

“No, actually… I usually wear condoms or pull out.”

“Oh, a first for you too?”

“Mmhmm.” He eases out, and you wince a bit, feeling him pouring out of your pussy lips now, along with your wetness. 

“I am on birth control. It didn’t sound hot to say in the moment though.” He exhaled, and nodded, pressing little kisses down your cheek.

“I find it very intimate, so I just never have.”

It’s quiet for a moment.

“It is really intimate…” You agree, and you’re just looking at each other, silent words spoken through looks, things that neither of you were sure how to say, or what to say, what you were feeling…

It was intense.

“I’m glad you did.” You say, clearing your throat, looking down for a moment at his chin, the little cleft in it, but he tilts your head back up.

“I am too.” His words make you smile, tremulously, realizing just how nervous you were about it then, you relax, grinning now.

“Good.” You kiss the chin you’d been focusing on, and he eases back, then frowns as he looks at your body, naked save for a tank top barely hanging on under your tits. “What’s wrong?”

He sits up, you study his naked body, lovingly, but his face is tense. “Did I hurt you?” His words are through gritted teeth. You shake your head.

“No, not at all! Why?”

“You’re covered in bruises.” He points to your thighs, then your hips, your waist even, little circles where his strong hands had gripped you. You shrug a shoulder, smiling at them. “It’s not funny.”

“No, they’re hot. Marks from you.” You lean up to kiss him, but he pulls back a bit, and now you scowl, angry. “You’re mad I have bruises? That’s stupid.”

“I should be more careful with you… you’re tiny and I’m too strong, let myself get too into it. Now you’ll bruise here too.” His words are husky, his eyes narrowed, fingertips touching your throat where he’d choked you. “Unacceptable.”

“What the fuck? I like it. Stop.” You get on your knees, cupping his face, but he doesn’t look at you, his eyes are on your reddening throat.

“I don’t lose control… never have before. I never want to hurt you.”

“Nanami! You can lose control with me. I like it. I can take a lot, do you know how many bruises the pole gives?” He sighs, and you feel emotion in your throat. “Fuck… I guess we don’t know each other a lot yet, do we?”

His eyes are lidded, his mouth a tight line. “No. We don’t yet, and I don’t want you hurting.”

“I don’t!”

“You’re not sore?” His eyes meet you again, and they’re pained, and you actually hate it.

“Sure, but who wouldn’t be? You have a huge dick.”

“It shouldn’t hurt-”

“Oh god, I like some pain, do you know what I read? It’s way freakier than anything we just did.”

“Those are books.”

“Wow… you’re killing my buzz, ugh!” You sigh, frustrated, then start sliding on your shorts, standing with trembling legs, irritated. Nanami puts his head in his hands, as you go to the bathroom, feeling his cum sliding out of you. It feels deliciously naughty and you want to enjoy it.

It’s quiet for a moment, after you go to the bathroom you brush your teeth, opening the door and looking at him. He’s dressed, fully dressed, as if he’s about to leave, and you rinse out, your heart pounding in your chest, confused and hurt, not knowing what to say as you two stand there.

“Nanami…” You come up to him, tiptoeing, looking up at this gorgeous man, wishing you could make him understand. “I loved it. Best night of my goddamn life, do you understand?”

He exhales, bringing you against his chest, brushing your hair gently, and you ease into the embrace, clutching to his shirt. You feel his heartbeat against your cheeks, his strong arms embracing you tightly, you could stay there forever in his arms, sore and bruised and happy as fuck.

“I didn’t wanna kill your buzz..”

“Oh stop! You are the buzz.” You peek back up at him. “Nanami, truly I feel so good, I swear. You could never hurt me, you would never, it’s just who you are… so careful and gentle. I liked you letting go.”

“You did?”

“Fuck yeah. Could’ve been even rougher.” He snorts at that, shaking his head. “Maybe when you get more comfortable with me, you’ll let go more.”

“More?”

“Mmhmm, there’s more in there. You enjoyed smacking my ass yesterday. Any bruises there?” You turn, lifting your shorts, he laughs softly, shaking his head. “Damn, do better daddy.”

“Brat. Don’t call me that.” You shove at him, and he yanks you against him, kissing you deeply, you fall into it. “I am very comfortable with you.”

“I would tell you if I didn’t like something. Be open with me. Be you, Nanami Kento, not what you think I want. Okay?” He nods, then picks you up, your legs are dangling, you hang on to his shoulders, and fall deeper for him. So deep that just looking at him makes your chest tighten.

“You know what you want, that’s for damn sure.” You grin, nodding. “I should trust that. Just please if I ever do hurt you-”

“You won’t. You can only hurt me if you just disappear one day.” Your emotion in your voice makes him pause, easing you down, but you’re still pressed against him.

“I would never do that.” His strong hands ever so gently hold your face. “You worry I’ll disappear?”

“Too good to be true.”

“No, not so. That’s you.”

“A part time stripper barista?”

“Mmhmm, perfect.”

“Yeah right. You’re sucking up.” He shakes his head. “I have auditions for that school soon… will you go with me? They do theater dance, like musicals and plays… it seems silly? But-”

“I would love to go watch you when you do.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You bounce up and down eagerly, and he just watches you, amused, but something deeper, a puzzle you want to put together. Where you were an open book, you realize it will take some time to truly learn more about him, but you’d take however long he wanted.

“Do you have to go?” You ask, and he nods, reluctantly, caressing your jaw with his long fingers. “Breakfast first? Or coffee?”

“I will definitely take some. You worked up an appetite in me.” You blush at that. “You’re so pretty with pink cheeks.”

“Am I?”

“You’re pretty all the time, I just enjoy making you blush. Come on, then, let’s forget my moral conundrum.”

“Nanami, you’re silly. I’m not ignoring it, it’s how you feel.”

You both kiss, and you realize you want to know everything about him, what makes him tick.

“I’ll make some eggs for us!” You yank him by the hand, leaving the tense energy of the room.

****

The week at the coffee shop is filled with secret kisses, touches, before you both have to work, every morning when you open he’s there, and you devour each other, you in your apron, him in his fancy suits. You ache to do more, but you’re both insanely busy all the time, planning for the weekend, but those little kisses and caresses every day ignite a flame in you.

It’s Friday, and instead of coming in alone, Satoru Gojo is with him, a big grin on his pretty face as he greets you with a peace sign.

“Heyy Foxy!” Nanami smacks at him, you just laugh.

“Hey Gojo. How's the wifey?” You start making two cups for him and his wife as Nanami comes behind the counter and kisses your cheek.

“Aww, you two are so cute.” You both flush, smiling at each other, you swirl the crazy amount of sugar Gojo likes in his coffee.

“How do you stay skinny with this?” You ask, adding more syrup, he shrugs, leaning forward on the counter.

“Good genes. The wifey is good by the way, you’ll be seeing her tonight.” You hand him the coffees, tilting your head curiously.

“Where? At the club?”

“Mmhmm.” Gojo points out to the chocolate muffins, you grab a few of them along with some other sweets. “Remember you said you’d give her a lap dance, right? Well it’s on.”

You turn even redder, looking at Nanami, who’s rolling his eyes. “Yeah, apparently we’re all coming tonight.”

“Oh! Oh…” Gojo laughs at your expression.

“It’ll be hot as fuck. This is so good.” He’s nibbling on one of the muffins, stuffing his face really, you hand him napkins to clean the crumbs off, smiling at how different him and Nanami were.

“Well I’ll be sure to put on a good show.” You start to make Nanami’s coffee now, and Yuji and Nobara come out, starting to chat with Gojo. Yuji seemed as if he wanted to be Gojo, while Nobara seemed to find him amusing.

“Shit, we’re too busy or we’d come.” Nobara says, and you tilt your head, smiling at them.

“Plans tonight?” You ask teasingly. Nobara flushes.

“Just seeing Yuji’s stupid double feature movie.” She mumbles, and Gojo points at them, laughing.

“You two are going on a date! Aw, love all around me.” He twirls, eating another muffin, and you all eye roll at him.

“Not a date…” Yuji rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, then clears his throat, looking at you and Nanami. “Shouldn’t you two be in the back making out?”

“Gojo’s here.” Nanami grumbles, then you snort in laughter, enjoying the little coffee shop more and more, as your friends and… Nanami… convene together, it feels so peaceful. You feel Nanami wrap an arm around your waist, Gojo’s bright blue eyes go to it, then he salutes you two.

“Don’t let me stop the horny teenagers.”

“Gojo!”

“What? Anyway, see you tonight ‘Foxy’.” You and Nanami shake your head, and you lead him back to the little break room, where you all frequently made out, literally every morning.

“Are you cool with this, Nanami? Me giving her a lap dance.” You ask softly, he smirks a bit, shutting the door behind you, stuck in the itty bitty room with not much more than a little fridge, counter and microwave.

“I am a man, so of course it’s going to be hot.” You giggle, yanking him close against you, his hands are on your hips, he bends down low.

“You used to like her though, yeah? Is that why it’ll be hot? Want two girls making out in front of you?” You are running your hand down his hard abdomen, down to his pants, feeling him grow hard with your touch, as his hazel eyes stare at you behind those shades.

“Are you teasing me? Brat.” He murmurs, you giggle, biting your lip, but then gasp as he sits you up on the little counter, between your thighs, shoving your skirt up, your heart races. You all had not had sex since last weekend, and even kisses didn’t go further than touching.

“You like the idea. Freaky Kento.” He has his hand under your skirt in moments, and you cover your moan with your hand, slick against his fingertips. He yanks your hand down, lips covering your mouth instead, drinking in your cries as he gently runs little circles on your clit, making you wetter by the minute.

“It’ll be hot because it’s you.” He whispers, reassuring you more and more as he wrecks your mind. “Just like he’ll think it’s hot because it’s her. Also, we have dicks… so there’s that.”

You laugh softly, then gasp again when he starts flicking side to side, your hands grip his black suit he wore today, growing hot in the little room, against his hard body, his kisses making you lose it. You know you all don’t have much time, you never do, but it feels so good…

“Now, since you like to tease me…” He takes his hand away, you cry out, yanking it back, and scowling as he smirks.

“Nanami! That’s so mean! Put it back.” You plead, arching your hips up, completely wanton, thighs spread on the counter, he moans, as you move his finger to your entrance.

“You’re always so wet for me. Does it hurt, wanting me so bad all week?” He’s fucking with you, and you melt, nodding, pressing his finger in, shivering at the tiny bit of contact.

“Yes, it hurts… you’re so mean to me.” You pout, he laughs breathlessly, kissing down your jawline, your head falls back. “I have to use your fingers myself. It’s so cruel, what a mean daddy you’ve become.”

At that he loses it, yanking you down and spinning you, your teeth leave little indents in your lower lip, ass arching up, and he smacks you, hard, you barely manage not to yelp. You’re shaking, pussy dribbling, ass stinging, and he smacks the other cheek now, before wrapping an arm around you, finger on your clit again, his other hand on your mouth.

“Do not call me that.” He whispers, you yank his hand down, turning to him and grinning. He scowls.

“You like it.” You reach back and feel him rock hard. He yanks his hand away again. “No, no, sorry!”

“Too bratty this morning. You can just hurt until tonight.” He sucks you off his fingers as you turn back around, and his smartwatch starts beeping.

“Fuck… Kento…”

“Ah-ah. Did it to yourself.” You glare, and he just smirks at you, kissing the tip of your nose. “You’re so cute when you’re mad.”

“You’re so mean! I’m totally gonna kiss Gojo’s wife and torture you.” His brows raise at that.

“You, torture me? No, you’ll beg for it tonight.” He cups your face, you hate that he’s right.

“Nope. Wanna bet?”

“I’ll take the bet.” He is laughing, and you are still scowling. “You okay, darling, not hurting are you?”

“Nope! Go to work.” You shove past him, but he catches you, you fall against his hard chest, and he’s kissing you, so sweet again. You melt.

“I…” He trails off, and it grows quiet in the little room, you two are just looking at each other, mouths an inch away.

“Yes?” You ask softly.

“I miss you… all the time. It’s… concerning.” He clears his throat, and you feel emotions hit you, hard, mixing with that desire that consumed you.

“I miss you all the time.” He exhales, shoulders relaxing a bit under your palms, as you tip toe, kissing his chin. “It’s not concerning. It means we like each other, right? I mean I really like you. A lot.”

You feel yourself overheating as he takes that in, then he sighs, brushing your hair back. “I like you a lot too.”

“Then why are you so evil!” He chuckles, and his watch beeps again, he curses, straightening you both up.

“I just enjoy watching you as you ache for me. Maybe I am a little sadistic.” He is fixing your hair now.

“You are! Okay, get to work now, before you’re late because of me. I’ll see you tonight right?”

“Absolutely. My place after?” You nod eagerly, probably too eager, but the thoughts of being alone with him and having time… were perfect. “Bring something to sleep in.”

“Yeah? Staying at Kento’s place hmm?” He rolls his eyes at you, and you both walk out, hand in hand. “I feel so special.”

“You are.”

“Oh shit, wait, let me make coffee!” You rush over, but Nobara already has his coffee and croissant, grinning at you two. Nanami takes it thankfully, kissing Nobara’s hand, and you smile.

“You’re a lifesaver. All right, see you tonight.” He kisses you again, rushing out, and then Yuji and Nobara look at you with shit eating grins.

“We heard that smack.” Yuji says, and you cover your face, groaning, knowing now you’ve gotta spill some details.

“Do you all do some dom daddy shit?” Nobara asks, you shake your head with a laugh, tying on your apron.

“He hates being called daddy. I wish he’d accept it.”

“Hmm… am I a daddy?” Yuji asks, and you and Nobara both shout no at the same time, he scowls, crossing his arms.

“You’re just Yuji.” You both hug him, but he shrugs you two off. “Oh, wait, I’m not spilling my details until you all tell me about this date!”

“Not a date!”

***

The music thumped, the lights flashed, and the crowd cheered as you begin your dance. Your body moves fluidly to the rhythm of the music. You spin and twirl on the pole, gripping it, pulling yourself higher and higher off the ground, arching your back in a perfect curve as you fall back down.

The costume you wore tonight hugged every inch of your curves, revealing just enough skin to be tantalizing, but still covered the important bits, a little high waisted as you didn’t like your tummy just all the way out, but your ass cheeks definitely were. You may have ordered this to show off for Nanami.

It was a glittery little outfit, blue and purple like a mermaid, and you wore a long red wig, in your Ariel era, it all made every movement more slinky, more seductive. You knew every move to drive everyone crazy, every angle and pose, and you opened your eyes to see them there.

Gojo and his beautiful wife, who was dressed in some gorgeous little black dress that accentuated her own curves, matching Gojo’s black dress shirt and slacks. He was kicked back, and she was up near the stage, eagerly watching, his arm was possessive on her waist. They both grin at you, and you ease down for a moment, waving, taking tips as you walk around the stage from the crowd.

You hop back up, then watch Nanami walk toward you from the bar, with his neat whiskey, looking fucking gorgeous in a white dress shirt that clung to his muscular frame, a skinny little black tie you wanted to yank him by. He smirks as he watches you, coming to sit by Gojo and his wife now.

You begin to spin again, as the song is ending, your breasts brushed against the cool pole, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind as thoughts about Nanami swirled. Your hips swayed in time with the beat, legs wrapping around the pole, and Nanami’s gaze followed every movement, his expression a mix of admiration and desire, it was so heady to have him watch you.

He leaned forward in his chair, elbows on the stage, fingers tentatively twitching as if he wanted to reach out and touch you. You swirl onto the floor, feeling your nipples harden against the fabric of your costume, imagining him touching them, kissing them. You struggle to get back to Earth, and everyone claps as you drop down, tossing more money, and soon it was just you four.

You slide over to them, to Gojo’s wife, and she flushes nervously even under the red lighting, eyes going to Gojo, he was just watching her, nodding, and you realize she is nervous too. You take her hand, which had cash in it, and slide down your bra, revealing your tiny nipple that had been rock hard. You can feel Nanami’s eyes zoom in on it, and your chest heaves a bit at the thought.

You slide her hand to your bra, and her soft hand touches you a bit, her eyes are glittery as she looks up at you. “You’re stupid hot.”

“You’re stupid hot.” You reply, and she giggles, sliding out another tip that Gojo hands her, you guide her hand to your thigh, and she eases it on your garter. “First time here?”

She nods. Gojo’s grip is so tight on her, his knuckles are white, and he clears his throat, sliding in close. “She’s kinda a nun.”

“Am not! Dick.” She shoves at him, and you laugh at the two, who seemed as if they couldn’t get any closer.

“Don’t be nervous. I don’t do much crowd stuff, I really made an exception because Gojo convinced me…” You smile at Nanami now, who’d just been watching you interact.

“I’m a matchmaker, if you will.” Gojo sips casually on some sweet looking drink, and his wife rolls her eyes at him, looking back at you and playing with the wig you wore gently.

“Go on to him, I know you want to.” She whispers, and you grin, coming back onto the stage and crawling seductively over to Nanami, you see Gojo and her making out heavily at the corner of your eye.

Your thighs are spread wide, and you bend over in front of him, ass in the air, shivering in delight when he slides a tip in the waistband of your panties. You turn back around, grinning down at him, easing your bra down, to where your breasts were mostly bare, right in front of his face. You watch his jaw clench, his hands tense, hazel eyes locking on to them.

“How’s the show?” You ask softly, bending forward so more of your breasts spilled out, and enjoying the reaction, the desire, knowing he could not touch you right there was fucking thrilling.

“I want to throw you over my shoulder and take you home, fuck you so good you’re crying.” He whispers, casually, sliding another tip in your garter, your eyes are wide, mouth wide, in shock. He clears his throat, smiling up at you. “You did great, though.”

“I… fuck…” You are trembling, sliding up your straps, just staring at him, cunt slick against the little costume. “Let me… ahem… I should freshen up a bit before the dance.”

“Mmhmm.” His hands are on your waist, and you shiver. “I’ll go head in there with them and we’ll be waiting.”

“Kay.” You manage, and then struggle to stand on your ridiculous heels, grabbing the money off the stage and cleaning the pole. You wave hi to the other girls, let the manager know about another VIP, which surprised her but she was fine with it, then you’re in the little locker room alone, huffing.

Fuck.

You couldn’t be all horned up on Gojo’s wife…

Then again…

You wipe down, spritzing perfume at your pulse points, then going to touching up your makeup and brushing your wig. After sufficiently cleaning up, you grab a drink from the bar, needing just a little courage. You walk into the VIP room, and Nanami and Gojo are sitting across from Gojo’s wife, on the other bench, while she was sitting where Nanami had sat last week.

She was nervously fidgeting with the straw of her drink, smiling as you walked in, the VIP room was awash in red light and you could still feel the throbbing bass of the club's music. The air was thick with anticipation as Gojo grins at you, Nanami just seriously staring.

“The party’s here.” Gojo raises his drink to you, and you giggle, sipping your drink then setting it on the table. You come to Gojo’s wife, who’s looking so nervous. “Isn’t she pretty blushing?”

“She is pretty altogether.” You agree.

“Oh stop… the red lights hide it.” She mumbles, and you all laugh, you take her drink and sit it down too. “I have no clue what we’re doing. But you look really hot, and I think our men are excited?” She whispers in your ear.

You nod. “They’re going to be more excited. We’re both getting good dick tonight, promise.” She giggles behind her hand.

“I like you.” You grin at that.

“Hey, stop flirting so much!” Gojo chides you two. “Whispering about us, two little brats.”

“Shut it, Satoru.” She flips her husband off, he blows her a kiss, you just smile at the two, shaking your head.

“She is a brat.” Nanami agrees, and you turn in surprise, Gojo laughs, legs spread wide as he shoulders Nanami.

“Knew it. I know the type.” You flush red under the lights too now, and you and her look knowingly at each other.

“Brats, huh?” You decide to start dancing then, moving your hips suggestively to the rhythm, eyes locked onto hers. She was a mix of delicate and wanton, licking her lower lip and watching you, as you felt their eyes on your back. You bend down and brush her long hair back.

“Jesus fuck.” Gojo mutters, and his wife peeks at him.

“It hasn’t even started and you wanna leave and fuck me huh?”

“Yep.”

“Well you have to wait, I’m enjoying it.”

“Brats.” Gojo huffs, and you smile conspiratorially, easing the straps of her dress down then, feeling the air tense in the room.

“This okay?” She nods, knowing where you’re going, you slide the dress up a bit too, revealing her pretty thighs, and you place your hands on them, bending over, breasts brushing against her face.

“Fuck…” That was Nanami’s voice now. You thrive off the energy as the eagerly move to the side of you all now, to the chairs in the room, getting the full view of you both.

“Aw, need a closer look huh?” You tease with a wink, but they don’t even respond, enamored as you dance between her thighs, you felt a surge of confidence as you began to dance for them all, weaving your body between her spread legs. The fabric of your skimpy outfit caresses her skin, and she gasps a little bit.

You notice Gojo and Nanami’s faces flushed with excitement, hands gripping their drinks tightly. You could see the desire within them, feel it emanating from her too, and it only fuels your performance. You turn, and grind your body against hers, so soft and different from what you’re used to, and your movements growing more daring.

Her fingers gently grip your hips now, urging you on, letting you know she’s having fun and comfortable too. The energy in the room was palpable, electrifying, breaths from all four of you. You turned back around, bending low, teasingly kissing her thigh, and now Gojo is literally groaning, his head in his hands.

“This is way too fucking hot, I can’t.” His voice is hoarse. Nanami also groans, brushing his hair back.

“Yeah, same. Too much.”

“You’re turning her on more than me! Not fair.” She laughs at that, peeking at Gojo mischievously.

“Maybe she does.”

“You’re so bratty!”

“I’ll show you bratty.” She pulls you, and you straddle her carefully, arms braced on either side of her, and Gojo and Nanami slowly lose their shit as she grabs your face gently.

“Oh god… have I died and gone to heaven?” Gojo is so dramatic you two burst out laughing.

“Probably hell.” Nanami’s words make you all laugh more.

She leaned forward to you, her lips brushing against your ear, and whispered so soft and seductive that it sent a shiver down your spine. “Let’s make out, it’ll make them lose their shit.”

“Fuck yeah.” You both look at them, and their brows are low, Gojo is staring at his wife, and Nanami is staring at you.

You lean in, your lips barely touching hers in a ghost of a kiss feeling the warmth of her breath mingle with your own. “You better fucking love me, Kento, because this dream is because of me.” Gojo says, and Nanami is silent, you see him in your peripherals, dying to touch you.

“I totally love you at this moment, Gojo.” You two laugh against each other’s lips, your hands slide down the sides of her breast.

“Fuck…” You hear them both say it, then you two kiss, softly, as her hands slide up your waist, and yours slide up to cup her face.

The bass of the music fades as you’re kissing Gojo’s wife, in front of Gojo and Nanami’s shocked selves, and everyone in the room was full of desire, you could feel her hard nipples against your own, her heat matching yours in your laps. Your tongues gently meet, just playing, and you both gasp a bit, before easing back, a little bit of saliva between you two.

You both grin, looking at your men, and within moments Nanami has snatched you off her, and Gojo has snatched his wife up. Nanami has you on his lap, kissing you, and you see Gojo has her lifted and pressed against a wall. His kisses are aggressive, she’s falling into it, and the whole thing makes the situation between your thighs a million times worse.

Nanami’s grip is tight, his eyes hooded, and you feel him rock hard between your thighs, groaning. “Fucking tease.”

“Got you back for this morning, hmm?” He yanks your hair, and you hear lewd moans, as Gojo has his wife’s thighs wrapped around him.

“You’re so getting railed tonight.” Gojo says, as he eases her down for just a moment, coming to hand you money. You shove it off.

“Just pay the VIP fee up front. That’s too much fun to get paid for.” He grins down at you, patting your head.

“You’re getting railed tonight too, huh?” He grins at Nanami, who is too enamored with you to say shit. You ease off him for a moment, coming to give Gojo’s wife a hug.

“Way too fun! Oh my god. Thank you.” She kisses your cheek, and you kiss hers too, before your men snatch you again.

“That’s enough I need to get to the fucking car, now. Kento, Foxy, later!” Gojo picks her up and they’re gone in a flash, leaving you and Nanami alone, your hands on his face, gripping your ass hard.

“They’re so fucking in the car.” You muse, Nanami grins.

“They absolutely are. That’s the hottest thing I’ve seen, I think I could just die now and be happy.” You shake your head, wet and hot against him.

“Better not. I need you around, you know.” The words are serious, soft, and you’re both kissing, falling into each other, his grip so tight you can scarcely move, breathe but you want it, you want more.

“Let’s go to my place. Now.”

“So eager?”

“Don’t play with me, darling, you know how that goes.” You grin, excited, and he rolls his eyes at you. “Now.”

“Yes, sir!”

You’re dying to go to his place… to get this frustration fucked out of you… and Nanami seems to feel the same way.

Chap 7

Ao3 link

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56003029/chapters/143664823#workskin

[raayllum]

in honour of this post, tags on another of mine i cannot remember that talked briefly about Rayla's issues, and that I've talked about Claudia and Callum's moments of being hypocritical, now I want to actually talk about Rayla's hypocritical tendencies cause it's something S4 and S5 made a fun little consistency - let's dive in

Rayla can sometimes ignore (or react indignantly to) other people possibly having their own reasons/justifications because she's tunnel visioned into only thinking about her own justifications as uniquely warranted

Let me explain

The first time I noticed this was in 2x03, mostly because it was one of those moments that made me laugh even though it's not trying to be funny because

Cause Rayla, honey, you know you lied to them too ("lying and hiding the truth aren't that different") - and Callum forgave you for that and is still your friend. Why would Claudia and Soren be any different to him? (And they are, but not the point of this point).

Now, unlike Soren (who is the person they're primarily discussing), Rayla didn't lie outright, but she did lie by omission - much the same way Claudia did. And Rayla has known her own motivations all along - probably worried they might give up on their mission if they knew (especially at the start), and she doesn't want them to hate her, and most of all by this point in the show, she didn't want to hurt them ("I'm afraid of hurting him" / "when you care about someone, it's hard to hurt them").

This made sense to me in terms of Rayla being good at being initially (often times rightfully, sometimes not so) indignant on her own behalf. She is able to justify herself and does so often, both angrily - as the next examples will show - and more neutrally ("How could I take his life?"). She defends herself both physically and personally to Corvus ("I didn't kill anyone"), she smarts at Callum when he (rightfully) tries to push at her ("I don't have to explain anything to you"), and is mad at Ethari when they initially talk ("Yeah, it's me. Surprised to see my face?"). This initial defense of herself doesn't usually persist and typically gives way to self loathing ("I can fix this" / "I don't deserve your trust, not yet" / "They're right to reject me") but it is there at first and is usually her first reaction, which is very fun.

However, this coupled together with the other two instances arc 2 brings up in terms of her being kind of a hypocrite makes it a pattern, beginning in early season four. (Callum also isn't at his best in early season four, saying he doesn't want to talk about stuff and then bringing it up the next episode to take a jab at her - but he's still dealing with the fallout of the problems she caused, so he absolutely gets more of a pass. As always, see my In Defense of Callum's Narrative Lens from way back in the day if you're interested in more of how his perspectives are portrayed.)

Because gee, Rayla, I wonder whose fault that is? And again, it does make sense that she's angry - she's spent two years just wanting to be with him with none of the messy complex heartbreak he had to go through because she was the one who made the choice to leave. She expected him to at least shout at her, not ice her out completely. And again, we see that initial indignant streak fade when he reiterates he wants to go, and she looks down disappointed, but accepting of it (and puts whether she'll stay or not in his hands, too).

Since she had a good reason for leaving, and it's what her parents did, while she expected anger, she also wants affection and love. Isn't her justification enough, in some ways? Shouldn't it be? And while Rayla wrestled back and forth with this, it's clear she does think that it should be (even if both seasons show she's starting to realize just why she was wrong).

But we do see this hypocritical tendency of hers perhaps pop up most prominently in S5 with Nyx

Again, in Rayla's head, lying and stealing the key wasn't perhaps the right thing to do, but the better thing to do than burden Callum with what she was going through / to be open and vulnerable. It makes sense why she'd do so - and her shot at Nyx gets a tiny pass cause she's technically sticking up for Ezran - but it still falls back on Rayla leaning too heavily on her logic / independent streak to justify actions that are actually counterproductive to having healthy, wilfully open relationships.

And this is something I love about TDP. Even when the characters are genuinely making the worst possible fucking decisions they ever could (hi arc 1 Viren, Claudia and Karim constantly in particular) you completely understand how and why they're justifying those decisions, and Rayla is no different. Doesn't mean they're right, doesn't mean it's not logically stupid or fair or whatever, but it's emotionally consistent, and that's what matters most in the end. And now we have a fun little consistency to add to the pile

[dashboardjuliet]

flesh and bone | chp 2: August 9

previous chapter: here

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader oc

After a messy divorce, you move into a rural house determined to continue on with your life. Until you discover your new home is less empty than you believed it to be

Warnings: none atm, but this will be a nsfw story so please, no under 18 readers

When you come to, the world is bright.

You squint, groaning uncontrollably as you roll onto your side and scrub at your eyes.

It takes you a full minute to realize you aren’t alone on the floor. Opening your eyes fully, boots come into your view. Tilting your gaze upward, you come face to face with the skeletal one from the night before. They’re squating next to you, sitting on their heels with their elbows resting on their knees, skull face tilted as they look at you.

“Are you going to kill me?” Surprisingly, you’re calm in the face of death. Or numb. Numb might be the better word.

“Negative. Couldn’t even if I wanted to.”  

You’re taken back by the voice that comes from the skull. It’s deep, gravel-y, a heavy British accent that makes your eyes widen. If it wasn’t a murderer in your house, you would probably find it attractive. Although he did just say he wouldn’t kill you, so maybe you can allow yourself to feel the bubble of attraction to him. It also dawns on you, as you take a moment to process, that the jaw didn’t move as he spoke.

“How are you talking?”

“How do you talk?” You scowl at his response.

“Alright smart guy. This has been fun, but I am going to need you to leave my house. Now. Please.” You try to ask nicely, better to not anger the man currently invading your house. At least you’ve retained some sense of self preservation.

“If I could, I would. ‘M stuck here Sweetheart.”

“What the hell does that mean?” You push yourself up off the floor into a sitting position, and it allows you to take him in better. He’s still huge, but at this height with him squatting, you can see him more clearly. It dawns on you that what you’d first believed was his skull is actually… not. Looking close, you can see the faint lines of blond eyelashes, the silhouette of a nose poking through the nose hole of the skull. “Are you wearing a mask?”

“I can’t leave, that’s what that means. Been stuck here for a while. And yes, it is.”

“Just walk out the door, it’s pretty easy. Also can you please take it off, it’s kind of creepy.”

“Same answer as before, I can’t. Been wearing the bloody thing for years straight now, I’d take it off if I could.”

“Okay. I’m done with this.” You’ve reached your pleasant limit. Standing up, you ignore the creaking in your joints from laying on the floor all night, and move toward your front door. Opening it, you motion for him to move. “Get out before I call the cops.”

“I cannot leave. What’s not sticking in your head?” You can feel your blood pressure rising as he speaks. He’s stood now too, and once again you’re reminded how huge he is. You swallow any trepidation and resolve yourself to be pissed off.

“Nope, no more talking.” You leave the door open and move behind him. His head follows your movement, and you can tell his body tenses as you come up behind him and put your hands out to push. Your hands come up to plant themselves on his back, but you stumble forward, hands phasing through him and your eyes widen. You keep them there, staring at your fingers inside his form, wiggling them experimentally. Despite his form still being seemingly solid, you can see them move in him.  He turns, and now your hands are in his chest, and you crane your face up to look at him, your eyes wide.

Everything from the night before returns to your mind in an instant. Perhaps you weren’t as good at suppressing everything like your ex spouse thought you were. You blink, slowly, digesting the evidence presented in front of you.

“You gettin’ the picture now?” He asks as you remove your hands, pulling them into your chest, almost mirroring the position they were in in his. You swallow, and nod.

“I need coffee.”

---

Ten minutes later finds you sitting on the floor, back leaning against your kitchen cabinets, a large mug of coffee tucked between your slightly shaking hands. The mug had been a gift from your mother, shaped like a cow udder and patterned black and white. It feels ridiculous and silly in this slightly serious moment. Your… guest stands with his hip cocked, ‘resting’ on the kitchen island with his arms crossed over his large chest. Is he a guest? What do you call a person that can’t leave your house? Unwanted roommate? These questions flitter through your brain in silence as you stare at the pale tan liquid in your cup and the waves that your slight tremor makes.

“You broke?”

“Hardly,” You scoff, and then pause. “Maybe. You have to admit it’s a lot to take in.”

“Never said it wasn’t. You’re doing better than the others.”

“Others?”

“You think you’re the only one that’s moved in here while my big ass has been stuck? Most of the poor sods run the minute they see the mask.”

“Yeah I don’t fucking blame them. Have you seen yourself? Terrifying.” He doesn’t respond to you, so you assume that vein of your budding conversation is dead. Dead. You cringe.

“So you’re… dead.” You stumble over the word but it makes it out eventually. Looking up at him, you can now make out eyes looking at you. Now that it’s properly daylight, it’s easier to see what his hood had hidden from you. You couldn’t make out a color, but knowing they were there made you feel marginally better, made him feel more…human. Watching him, he doesn’t move.

“Don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?”

“I was never quite… human.” That seems to be all he’s willing to admit to you, and you nod, unbelieving.

This is out of your realm. You’re a school teacher. Not… someone capable of handling a… whatever he is. But briefly, the image of your old Italian grandmother flitters through your brain, back hunched from age and arms constantly curled from the combination of arthritis and cooking for decades, cornicello oversized and golden, hanging from her neck. Somewhere in a box is an evil eye she’d gotten from relatives in Greece and then gently given to you as a child. Maybe if it had been hanging in your doorway, this wouldn’t be happening.

“I wish my Nonna was here. She’d know what to do in this situation.” You speak more to yourself than to him, but your words must make him confused because when you raise your gaze back up, the skull mask is tilted in confusion like a dog. A rottweiler in human shape. The corner of your mouth ticks up at the thought.

“Your what?”

“Sorry, Grandma, it’s Italian. She was… oh, witch isn’t the right word but there’s not a good equivalent in english. Um, she would know what to do, with… this.” You make a swirl motion with your hand, trying to encapsulate all of what is currently in your kitchen. Even the thought of her makes the whole situation feel marginally easier to tackle. But she’s not here, long dead, and any wisdom she had she took with her to the grave. Maybe. There’s a possibility your father still has some of her books, but that’s not your top priority in the moment.

“That’s bollocks.” Now it’s your turn to be confused.

“What?”

“It’s bullshit. You tellin’ me your nan was a witch?”

“Okay, one, that’s rude. Two, you just said you’re not human and you’re telling me it’s not possible for her to be a witch?”

You stare at one another, watching as his eyes widen slightly, only to return to their heavily guarded state almost immediately, half lidded and hiding whatever color his irises are. Quietly, you make it your mission to figure that out.

“... ‘Right. I’ll give you that one.”

“Thanks. I think.”

After that, you both fall silent. You go back to staring at your coffee, questions cycling through your head while his looming figure stands in your periphery.

“We probably should lay out some ground rules.” The topic that you settle on is one that will need to be addressed. You hadn’t been planning on a roommate, especially one that could phase through walls and appear on command. Or so you suppose. You’re not entirely sure what being whatever he is encompasses. He’s not been exactly forthcoming with information on himself, and it makes putting together a plan in your head somewhat difficult. And that gives you more anxiety than you can handle. You need a plan.

You look up at him, eyes coming into direct contact with his, and you can feel your cheeks burn just slightly from the heavy attention of his gaze. He says nothing, you take it as a sign to continue your speech. Not that you’ve thought any deeper than the original that you had blurted out.

“Since we’ll be living… together,” You wince at your default word choice as soon as it leaves your mouth, but it can’t be helped. If it’s possible, his form freezes and becomes more stiff than it already was. “Um, my bedroom and bathroom are gonna be off limits.”

“You gonna confine me to two rooms like a fuckin’ dog?” His voice is steady and flat, but you can sense the heat, the simmering anger under the words. Above you both, the kitchen light flickers. Both of your heads crane up to look at it, and then back at one another as it settles back to just being on. His eyes are wide, as if he’s never been angry like that before.

“Okay… let’s rework that. How about just when the door is closed? And it’ll just be closed when I’m sleeping or have someone over, but I doubt that will happen. How does that feel?” You grip your coffee tighter, hoping you gave enough to the bartering table.

“‘S fine. And I’ll… try not to intrude. It’ll be hard, though. Might be a bit of a learning curve. Been alone for a while.” There’s a certain softness to his words that you haven’t heard yet in your short interactions. You nod slowly at him, a nod you would give one of your kids, gentle and understanding. The feeling is one you can relate to.

“It’s okay. It’s been a while since I’ve had a roommate that wasn’t my parents. We’ll make this work.” You weren’t entirely sure of what you were saying at the beginning, but now that the full thought has left your mouth, you feel more certain in your words. You will make this work. It’ll be hard and awkward and an adjustment from what you’ve grown used to, but you know you’ll be able to do it. Him, though, he’s a wildcard. And you don’t even know his name. Your eyes widen at that.

“Who are you?” You blurt out, and then purse your lips. “I mean, what's your name?”

He takes a moment, you can almost see the cogs in his brain turning as he thinks, and then says “Ghost.”

You blink once, and then twice. And then laugh.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

“What?”

“Your name is Ghost? And you’re like a ghost? That’s fake.”

“You got a problem with my name?”

“No, not a problem! You just have to admit it’s kind of ironic… and funny.” You shrug, the lilting laughter finally leaving your voice with a gentle reminder of its joy in your tone. You stare at each other again (something, you have a feeling, you both will end up doing often) before quietly, he huffs. His shoulders move slightly with the noise and your eyes widen with glee as you quickly realize that’s as much of a laugh that you’ll get out of him. Your smile widens into a grin, teeth showing.

“Guess it’s never crossed my mind.”

“You’ve never thought about it since you…got stuck?” You avoid the word dead since he seems to think otherwise.

“Had a lot to think about, just not that.” He shrugs, and you can give him this. You admit to yourself that an ironic name wouldn’t be your first thought if you were stuck somewhere. Dead, the voice in your head whispers. But he won’t admit that, so you say nothing. You stretch your arm, reaching to put your coffee up on the counter before pushing yourself up off the ground to stand. The clock on the over blinks out that it’s noon, and the world suddenly comes back to you. You need to unpack, badly, and school starts in less than a month and you’ve barely done anything to get ready. And now you have an inhuman roommate.

“What do I call you?” His voice distracts you from your thoughts, and your eyes drift upward toward the holes in the skull mask where you know they hide. He’s so tall, you remember slowly, the creeping memories of last night serving as a reminder. You rest your back on the counter as you look up at him, trying to guess the height difference. A foot? Foot and a half? “Did you hear me?”

“Huh? Oh! My name!” You blink, and then scowl. You hate your name. Instead, you supply your nickname. “Jack. You can call me Jack.”

“Jack?”

“Yeah, like Jackrabbit? When I was a toddler I had a habit of running from my parents as fast as I could. My dad started calling me Jackrabbit, but Jack stuck.” You shrug. You’ve always liked it more than your actual name, always felt more at home with the short syllables. He seems to ponder it for a moment, then nods.

“Jack. I’ll make sure to remember.” He speaks slowly, words rolling with his accent. It makes you shiver and then swallow, mouth suddenly dry. This, you decide, is not going to be an easy living situation. Especially if you keep reacting to his voice, and his height and just…him, the way that you have been. Hesitantly you add ‘Get Laid’ to the bottom of your mental list, hoping that might solve whatever you’ve got going on in your body.

“Well… I need to take care of… all of this.” You motion to the boxes everywhere, and he nods. “Um, if you need anything… just shout.”

He nods again, seemingly understanding that you’re trying to end your conversation. Slowly, still watching you, he goes back to stand at the sliding glass door, a perfect replica of how you found him last night. And then he just stands, and watches. You, the outside, you’re not quite sure, but you don’t have much more energy that you can give to him if you want to get your life sorted. So you nod, mostly to yourself, and get to work.

Unpacking takes the rest of the day, and even then, you still aren’t fully finished. You’re still waiting for a delivery from Ikea that your father had been kind enough to go pick up, shelves for books and a table for your living area, and you know it won’t feel fully complete until everything is in its place. But it’s getting close. You’ve hung all your art and concert posters in the living room, the hallway leading to your bedroom decorated with family wall hangings and photos, your family nazar hanging outside your bedroom, just in case.

And all throughout the day, as you moved from room to room, carrying misplaced items to where they belonged, Ghost watched from the sliding door. Gaze, you think, alternating betweening watching the empty cornstalks sway in the August heat, and you. You think you could feel it sometimes, the heaviness of his eyes following your movements. It made the hair on the back of your neck stand up, goosebumps traversing up and down your arms every time that you realized it.

As you lay in bed that night, you add two new tasks to the top of your mental list: Help your Ghost move on, and try not to get attached to him.

TAGLIST: @irnbru32

[zalrb]

This is kind of weird and I’m going to preface this with saying that I think your writing is absolutely excellent. If I were Elena in your Steferine fics, I don’t think I’d be able to seriously believe Stefan loved me because of how addicted he is to Katherine. I know the purpose of the fic isn’t a HEA Stelena and that it’s meant to hurt her because it’s Stefan and Damon choosing Katherine over her, and if I were Elena, I wouldn’t be able to get over that, if that makes sense. Like I know Stelena have this bond, this soulmate love and Steferine is ultimately obsession and great sex and I don’t think Stefan needs to validate Elena when she chose his brother over him and Elena does need to face consequences for her actions, but Idk, after seeing them both with Katherine in the context of your fic (Stefan continuing to see her despite Elena’s objections and jealousy, Damon actively pining after her, hell even Matt agreeing to hook up with her), I would just rethink everything in my life and just leave town. I know Elena wouldn’t do that because she loves Stefan and would stay and fight for him, but after it was all over, I think she would, just for a little bit. Everyone who has ever claimed to love her has in a sense picked Katherine over her, never mind that she picked Damon over them because Elena is nothing if not a hypocrite, and I think that would eat at Elena long after it was over and Katherine was gone.

I’m not requesting that you write this or anything, this is just a badly worded way of saying I think the sheer hurt you manage to insert into your writing is nothing short of masterful, that if I were in that character’s place I would be utterly unable to take it. Ngl, sometimes I have a hard time reading it because I cannot fathom what I would do in Elena’s situation, but then again if I were Elena I would have tried to run over Damon with my car in 1x04.

Idk if this is the kind of engagement that you want from your readers, but I thought I’d say something. I hope I didn’t come off as critical of your writing because that is so not the case, you are absolutely incredible and these are just my deranged musings. Is there anything I can do to better engage with your stories? I do like and reblog them but in terms of commentary/discussion, what are you looking for and how can I do it?

Oh, this is great engagement, thank you! But who says it's not an HEA for Stelena? 😉 (I'm not saying it is either! but it's more like Steferine is the prominent relationship in the fic rather than Stelena).

I get what you're saying, though, because I definitely dial everything to a hundred in that series (even though I sometimes wonder if I go far enough haha) while keeping it as in character as possible for a scenario like this while also kind of being like, if we're going to be honest about what all these people mean to each other and really looked at how these people reacted to each other, the outcomes of these dynamics would be extremely messy and extremely painful. And that means Elena is taking some pretty hard Ls and actually has to deal with the emotional consequences of them.

But in the same regard what makes Stelena Stelena is that they stay through circumstances where other people would leave. Like, Caroline, for instance, isn't staying through something like this, not with Stefan, not with Tyler, that's just not who she is. And I certainly would just take my L and go, haha.

But Elena's journey through the series is fun because when it starts, she's just sick with jealousy, and she's just indignant and angry and reactive and realizing that she made a choice to be with Damon and fully feeling the loss of Stefan, like it really sinking in for her that she made the wrong choice and that she didn't think of what losing Stefan would actually feel like and mean

Stefan sighed and shook his head. “Elena. Katherine’s right, you made your choice. You moved on. You didn’t think I’d move on too?”

Elena gritted her teeth putting her hands to her head. “I just didn’t think it would–”

“Rip your heart out?”

Elena didn’t say anything and only looked at him, devastated. 

so the in "Toxic" she's here

but I make it a point for Stefan to explain that what he feels for Katherine isn't love, it isn't even affection, which in its own way makes Elena lose her mind

“I can’t believe you’re defending her! What, you have feelings for her again?”

Stefan rubbed his temples. “This isn’t about having feelings—”

“No?” Elena yelled. 

“No!” He insisted. “I know who she is, Elena, I’m not falling for her, OK?”

“OK, so it’s not about revenge, it’s not about emotions then what could it possibly be–”

“Maybe we just have great fucking sex!”

Elena flinched as if struck and Stefan closed his eyes, still indignant but regretful.

but she knows that despite it being intense, it's not necessarily profound.

Which is why in "Choices" when they meet and they have their shared memory of a previous Valentine's Day, what that night meant, what the sex they had on that night meant, when he confirms that nothing like that is happening with Katherine, she's still jealous but she's relieved

“OK, let’s just say I’m not releasing two dozen doves for anyone.” 

“Or going to any Victorian balls,” she whispered.

Their eyes glistened as if they were sharing the same memory of that night, the ballroom, the dancing, the feel of the bookshelves, of the fabric of the chaise, the ripe, wet urgency of their lovemaking…

“No,” he said finally, lowering his gaze. “Nothing like that.”

Elena’s relief was only outmatched but the nagging curiosity – if she could even call it that – about what he was doing and who with, she didn’t want to know but also wanted to with her whole being. 

and then in "Blood", when she sees the blood sharing, it breaks her brain

Elena had never thought of it before, Stefan drinking from someone who wasn’t her, someone drinking from him like she’d done. Sharing that kind of intimacy. Elena’s vision went off-kilter, the world tilted off its axis.

Was this how Stefan had felt when he’d found out about her and Damon? She didn’t know what that had meant at the time, not really, but Stefan did know, he knew now and he still …

The moment was over.

Everything happened quickly.

Elena sped forward and dragged Katherine away by her neck, ignoring the cries from Stefan and Caroline and Bonnie for her to stop.

but what's more is that even in the midst of all of this, they're still them, like it's not even just about a gaze, it's their physicality, it's impossible for them to not be them even when she just wants to be enraged and even when he's over his head in a toxic cycle

and then suddenly the pain was gone. Stefan threw Katherine to the side, her body crashing into the wall, and helped Elena up, bringing her to a corner, inspecting her head, her face, saying frantically, “It’s OK, you’re OK.”

Elena kept trying to push forward but Stefan held her back, his arms around her, He stood still as a rock, allowing her to battle against him until she started to calm, to feel the recognizable comfort of his arms around her and she eased into his embrace, unable to fight against the peace he’d always made her feel …

and then anger bloomed, anger at the familiarity, anger at the intimacy between them even now

and it's at this part where Stefan describes his relationship with Katherine at the moment as an addiction, which again inflames Elena's jealousy because he continues to see Katherine despite the wreckage and that's painful but it also catalyzes Elena into looking at the situation differently

“So, this is about getting back at me.”

“No, it’s not about that,” said Stefan firmly. “It has nothing to do with you, Elena, it’s about her, me and her.”

“What about you and her? What is it? What is this thing?” The images came to her again and Elena put her hand to her head.

“I don’t know,” said Stefan. “It’s score keeping, it’s – it’s, it’s kind of like an addiction.”

“An addiction?” said Elena, looking at him pained and alarmed.

so that when we get to "Boundaries" and Stefan is saying these hurtful things

“You don’t want me, Elena,” he said.

“Stop it,” she said.

“You just don’t want me with anybody else.”

“Stop. This isn’t you.”

“I’m your safety net, your sure thing, and you think it’s being taken away from—”

She slapped him. The action surprised her as much as it did him. Her hand stung. The sound of the impact still ringing in the air.

Firstly, he never talks about how he stopped loving her, he talks about how she stopped loving him. So kind of like 1x10 where she's like don't tell me how I feel to let yourself off the hook

Secondly, what he says

“We met. We fell in love. It was epic. And now it’s done. This,” he gestured between him and Elena. “Whatever this lingering … this …” He breathed heavily. “It’s done. We’re done.”

Elena nodded angrily. “Done.”

“Yeah,” he said.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Finally.”

He looked at her. “Finally.”

And then he left.

still hurts but it's very reminiscent of how he acted in season 3

So, by this point in the fic, in Elena's mind, Stefan is going through another form of addiction. Katherine is an obstacle she needs to help him overcome because he never says that he loves her, he never even says that he likes her, and he admits that he isn't happy,

“I know that you’re not doing this to hurt me—”

“Good.”

“But this is what you want? Really?”

Stefan didn’t say anything right away. “Right now, yes.”

Elena’s lips trembled. “This is what makes you happy?”

“I never said that.”

it's just that he can't stop.

All the while they're having moments like this

She walked up to him, holding his face in her hands, pressing her forehead against his, and he exhaled like he’d just remembered how to breathe, just remembered what respite felt like. They stayed like that, drinking each other in, and then the door flew open, Katherine appearing.

and he's clearly affected by her, he's not indifferent, he's not hateful, he's not cold, he's in complete agony

“Elena, why are you he—”

“I don’t know why I’m here, I’m just here. That’s my point, Stefan. I had to be here because you were here. With her. You had to see me here.”

Stefan stared at her, at a loss. “I never did this to you.”

“Yeah, Caroline said the same thing.”

“I left my house. I left my town—”

“I know,” said Elena.

“So then why are you doing this to me?”

“Because throwing tables wasn’t enough. I’m not as stoic as you.”

so even though she's hurt and she's extraordinarily jealous, when he's having his outbursts, it's kind of like his blood lust outbursts

“What do you want to hear, Elena?” He was shouting. “You want to hear that it makes me sick? Well it does! But the rush I get? I can’t —” He took a deep breath. “I can’t stop! Is this what you mean? This is what you want to hear?”

same vibes as

“Fine, let’s talk about it! Let’s talk about how good the sex is, that I’ve had her every which way for hours on end and it’s still, somehow, not enough!  Let’s talk about how it feels like I’m addicted to her, like I’m hooked on the high I get when I’m around her! Let’s talk about how right now, I can’t see an end in sight! You really want to talk about that? You really want to hear that? Really? Do you want me to go on?”

Stefan burrowed his face in his hands, unable to bear the expression on her face. 

kind of like

and it's also a continuation of

and she repeats that they don't give up on each other, that's not what they do

exacerbated by the fact that she had chosen Damon.

What I think you had to suspend disbelief the most for is when she waits outside Katherine's apartment for him but I just saw it as her wanting to see his reaction when he sees her, to see if he really had moved on and it's the complete opposite

Elena.

Stefan felt the ground shift beneath his feet.

“Please don’t tell me you’ve been out here the entire time.”

She only looked up at him, teary-eyed, but the devastation in that simple motion was all the answer he needed,

he confirmation a lance through his chest. He could only exhale, anguished and overwhelmed. “Elena—”

so basically this series' Wickery Bridge

which is all to say this fic is as much about what SE can withstand as it is about the fun toxic psychosexual power dynamics between SK and how the two things feed each other and the point is kind of that no one else would be able to get through this but SE (if they do!)

In terms of engagement, commentary and discussions like this are great! Thanks for the ask :)

[bluedalahorse]

Hiii <3 Which Tarot cards represent August‘s past, present and future the best in your opinion? 💕

OH HECK YES A QUESTION THAT’S RIGHT IN MY WHEELHOUSE. (I did once write a fan poem inspired by August and the Hanged Man that holds up for season three, I think. You may have been the person who requested it?) You might get more answer than you bargained for. I apologize in advance.

So my initial thought was just to jokingly respond to your question like this:

Because August’s life is like that sometimes. I say this with a deep and abiding affection for his messy character in its messy, messy arc.

(And I couldn’t post about this anyway, because the danger of shitposting about August as a genuine fan of his character arc, is that there are genuine haters out there who will take your post 100% seriously and use it as ammunition against him. Which is a shame because loving this character should be at least 60% making fun of him.)

I thought about it in more depth, and now I have a more extended answer. I’m not usually someone who pulls tarot cards with a particular “spread” with a set number of cards in mind. In a sequel post (was going to do it here but I have to get ready for work now) I might name some extra cards I could see coming up and being associated with different ideas. Especially since my Past-Present-Future cards are all Major Arcana, and I like to get some minors into a reading, when I can.

PAST - THE EMPEROR

August was born into old school power structures, and the emperor is all about, well, that. We can see that August clings to rules as things that help him to feel safe. I imagine August’s childhood was all about birthright and order—here’s what your future is going to look like, here’s all the things you are going to do and if you do them right/perfect, everything will be fine. Structure can be helpful up to a point (and August does have talents for organization and leadership that could be channeled in better directions, in different circumstances, won’t someone please write this boy into different circumstances) but at times the emperor can become authoritarian, and feed the illusion that one can escape misfortunes if they control every aspect of one’s life. The sooner August lets go of this illusion, the better.

PRESENT - THE TOWER

But not “Oops! All Towers.” I feel strongly that when we’re watching the three seasons of Young Royals, we’re meeting August in one of the big Tower Moments of his life. The Tower is absolute catastrophe. Its collapse is unavoidable because the problem is the design flaws in the Tower’s foundations. Tower energy is terrifying, but if you learn how to face it, you can climb out of the rubble and start anew.

I think August’s Tower energy is less about the external world and where he “ends up” or what happens to him, as it is about his internal world and his understanding of himself. The August we see at the beginning of the series seems to believe that if he moves fast enough and works hard enough, he can outrun his own grief and trauma. He cannot. They will catch up to him eventually. I think the Tower-rubble that August is standing in at the end of season three is sort of like… his old sense of self? He’s realizing what he thought he wants isn’t actually what he wanted, and he’s realizing that the things he did to feel “in control” never really made him in control. He’s realizing his grief for Erik and his father and for Hillerska is a lot more complicated than he thought, also, but it’s still grief and he still needs to feel it.

FUTURE - THE WHEEL OF FORTUNE

So I’m not really an August doomer. I don’t believe he’s stuck forever in his own harmful deeds and that he’ll never leave the Emperor space or Tower space. I get why it’s narratively comfortable for some fans to see him as unchanging or doomed forever, but I feel like he’s actually in a really uncomfortable and interesting in-between space between “horrendous demon-person caught forever in a hell of his own making” and “totally self-actualized woke bae who can take responsibility for all his actions and do all the right things.” He’s… in a messy place, but it’s a different messy place than he started the series in, and that’s dynamic. That’s fun! I love it! (Also, I already wrote Tragically Doomed Forever August in Heart and Homeland, so I’ve kind of already let myself explore that option for him, heh. Bring on the new life challenges.)

Right, were we talking about Tarot? The Wheel of Fortune reminds us that things are always on the move, and that they’re always changing. Life is not permanent. This doesn’t mean what came before doesn’t matter or didn’t play a role in shaping a person, but it does mean that things will change whether one wants them to or not. If you like how things are going in your life, they’ll suck eventually, and if they suck now, they won’t suck forever. I’m less interested in whether August falling into the heir role counts as “poetic justice” or not and more just interested in the way it means more seismic changes in his life. There’s story there! There’s potential! There’s more learning! LET’S MAKE A FANFIC ABOUT IT WHERE HE ENDS UP CRYING ON THE FLOOR OF THE WASHINGTON DC SWEDISH EMBASSY BATHROOM. (A one-shot I am working on right now, as it happens. Well, there’s more to it than that, but it’s not even 6 AM yet and I am feeling a little punchy.)

Kind of building on what I said in my Past and Present analyses… I think season 1 August assumed there was a predictable structure to life, and that you can count on certain things being fixed. And I think by season 3, he realizes that… that’s just not true. I don’t know if he likes that revelation, but he also recognizes it as truth whether he likes it or not. And that does feel like the beginning of a new era for him. The Wheel of Fortune doesn’t care what you think, it just rolls the changes in.

Anyway, what did a great philosopher once say?

Oh, that’s right.

It’ll pass.

And that’s the wheel in a nutshell.

[sonic-hot-takes]

@halloween-cats said:

Sonic and The Secret Rings is fucking fantastic you guys are just mean. I think it and Black Knight are some of the best Sonic games ever.

(although for the record I watched a playthrough of those games instead of playing it myself, so I cannot in good conscience defend the gameplay. What I care about is the story, characterization, visual design, and music. And they're damn good at that!)

1) It’s not fair to say something like “this is one of the best Sonic games ever” when you haven’t played the actual game. Story and presentation are important, but will always come second to the core gameplay in a platformer.

2) secret rings OST is mid as hell ngl. Extremely forgettable in a series known for its bangers

3) Here’s why I think Secret Rings is the worst Sonic game:

When rating games in a big franchise like this to determine which one is the best or the worst, I consider two thing: quality and scale.

Quality is self explanatory. How good is the finished product? Is it fun to play, are the mechanics well thought out, is the story good, yadda yadda. This is how most games are analyzed and reviewed.

Scale is a bit trickier. What was the game trying to achieve, and how well did it go about achieving it? What kind of impact did it leave on the series as a whole? Is it a big, 40 hour console game, or just a fun little mobile game to waste time with?

That second one is why I scoff at people saying stuff like “Sonic Labyrinth is the worst Sonic game!” “Sonic Jam on game.com is the worst Sonic game!” “Sonic Schoolhouse is the worst Sonic game!” In isolation, these games certainly don’t hold a candle to 90% of what this series has put out, but at the same time, they were never trying to compete with them. It’s obvious that games like these aren’t trying to be anything more than what they are: low budget side games there to turn an extra buck for Sega. They are filler. They don’t count.

(Granted, there is some gray area as to what “scale” can entail. Games like Chronicles and Free Riders can fall on either side of the argument, but for the purposes of this post, it’s not all that important to get into)

With all that in mind, the worst games in any given franchise are the ones that promise the biggest scale but have the worst quality. They’re not just bad, they’re disappointing.

I’m sure that you’re thinking “by that criteria, 06 is the worst Sonic game.” And yeah, you’re right! But there’s a silver lining to it.

It’s no secret that 06 had a rough development. Like, “it’s a miracle this got out at all” rough. While Sega rushing the game for Christmas was definitely the final nail in the coffin, the two biggest factors in the game’s failure are as follows:

Yuji Naka, the game’s director, leaving halfway through production. In a post Balan society it’s easy to say that this was a good thing, but it’s difficult for any project to bounce back after losing its director, let alone a game of 06’s scale.

The development team splitting in half to make, you guessed it, Secret Rings.

Having played through a decent bit of the Project 06 mod and cross referencing it with vanilla 06 on my 360 (which I’m astonished hasn’t red ringed yet), I’ve realized that Sonic 06 does have some good ideas trapped deep inside its messy, messy code. The level design really isn’t that bad. The mach speed sections are great when you can actually control your jump. The more I play Project 06, the more I think to myself…what if Sonic 06 had more development time? Or better yet, what if Sonic 06 had more developers that weren’t forced to work on another project?

Basically, I blame Secret Rings for a lot of the issues with 06. There’s an argument to be made that that’s not really fair to Secret Rings, and sure, it’s fine if you think that, but I hold to my opinion for a few reasons.

Secret Rings has had virtually no impact on the series otherwise. This applies to Black Knight as well, but Black Knight has better music, marginally better gameplay, and didn’t cause another game to suffer by eating up development resources. At least 06 gave us Silver (even if @spiritsonic is the one who made him good).

Even on its own, Secret Rings is not a good game. Controlling Sonic with the Wii remote feels incredibly awkward and I don’t think any amount of fine tuning would’ve fixed that, especially not for a game of its era. The fact that you’re on rails leads to level design that blurs together in your head, so nothing ever stands out. The missions are all monotonous and tedious, so you rarely ever feel like you’re pushing the story forward through the gameplay, which is essential for a video game with any semblance of plot.

I don’t feel guilty for pinning 06’s failure on Secret Rings. Truly, it can not be overstated how much of a negative impact 06 had on this series—you still get gaming journalists who go “remember when Sonic kissed some real woman?”—and if Secret Rings hadn’t existed, if Sega just held off on releasing something early in the Wii’s lifespan and relied on Sonic Rush to reel in Nintendo gamers, things might have been a whole lot different. Since Secret Rings doesn’t really have a legacy of its own, whenever I look at it, I just think to myself, “they cut Sonic 06’s development team in half for this?”

[swan-orpheus]

To preface this, I am not saying this out of sympathy for the ISB folks in the slightest. I should not have to state it outright, but well, there we are. Just in case. 

I think that we are meant to see them in light of the prisoners as well. Probably an obvious statement but follow my drift... 

Dedra is on to something for sure, but is also under pressure to keep producing leads. It’s exciting, but rather dangerous whether she realizes it or not, especially for Major Partagaz. He looks afraid at those meetings. It is subtle but definitely there. He’s staked a lot on Lt. Meero and he was grasping for every scrap of new information including the mere possibility that Cassian Andor was present on Aldhani. Earlier on, he spent most meetings dressing down his subordinates in much the same way that Hyne tried to take Syril Karn down a peg or two. It was uneventful, but relatively safe. Lt. Blevin may be wiser than he looks. He knows to stick to his sectors and not rock the boat and that this will guarantee him relative comfort. Or you could argue that he is under the delusion that being quiet and sticking to your lane (to use one of the prison wardens’ phrasing) will will keep you safe forever. You have nothing to fear if you have done nothing wrong, so don’t get anyone’s attention. 

In Ep 4, Dedra Meero was not keen on sparking Lt. Blevin’s interest when she asked for the data on the Starpath unit, but now she is in danger of making the same mistake as Syril, of pushing and sticking her neck out too far because she is convinced that she is right about everything. She’s brilliant, but I do not think that the Empire ultimately cares. This line of inquiry is dredging up all sorts of things, none of it certain even if it does look promising. And the moment that it does not yield, cannot be covered up or controlled, she and anyone else involved are in trouble.

We already know that the prison has a massive flaw, the electrical grid upon which it is heavily reliant. The system itself also has a flaw in that The Empire will never be able to build enough secure prisons for all of the people that they wish to chuck in them. But leaving potentially anti-Imperial citizens free to move (and move against them) is also a huge risk. At the end of the day, they cannot contain and control the entire populace. The harder they try, the worse that it will be for them. I am wondering if by the end of the season we are going to see Partagaz and/or Meero fall. Partagaz could get the axe and Meero could get spared, but have a much less “fun” time at her job in future. 

There is definitely a mole within the ISB. One in particular is rather vocal and asks a lot of questions. They will warn Luthen and company about the ISB’s knowledge of the Spellhaus raid which will make things messy for the ISB when they fail to predict or assail the particulars in a manner that will allow them to catch the higher ups like Axis or Saw or whoever. These past few eps have been rather dark, but are clearly building up to a major catharsis in Eps 11-12. 

The ISB will be caught in their own web and individuals will be punished harshly and then replaced accordingly. They will fall into the shadows and be forgotten just like the prisoners who die before they get to leave. No matter how high up you reckon yourself, you are not exempt from being disposed of if you fail. 

“If you fall here, you fall alone.” 

The Empire is circles within circles within circles. Circular architecture, many-side polygons, labyrinths. Prisons. The only way out is to destroy the prison. 

One way or another, it will be very interesting to find out what happens next. 

As an aside, I hope that Dr. Gorst gets to sit in that chair that he’s so fond of, and that that is how he is found by the Empire. If he is found at all. 

[heliads]

Can I request 2, 3, and 22 for the 40 questions - meme for fic writers asks, please?? I hope you are having an amazing day <3

thx!!

2: Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?

ooh i don't know. tbh i think it would be really fun to try out an amnesia trope just because i feel like having to write how people would react to that would be fantastic (can you tell i have a problem when it comes to writing angst?)

3: Is there a trope you wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole?

anything smut. i do not want it i do not like it. let me tell you writing two characters kissing is already pushing the mf limits. i cannot fathom forcing myself to write out a whole sex scene (although props to the writers who can! y'all are better than me tbh)

22: Choose a passage from one of your earlier fics and edit it into your current writing style. (Person sending the ask is free to make suggestions).

this is from one of the first oneshots i ever wrote on this webbed site- 'rivalry' for tom holland's peter parker. basically, reader is tony stark's kid but hates that tony likes peter better than her, leading to her hating peter by the transitive property, i guess. i really love the idea of this, but seeing as i wrote it more than two years ago, it's definitely not how i'd do it now lol. original passage + my edits are under the cut for length:

original:

Soon enough, you find [Tony] in another one of the labs. You slow down, realizing he’s talking to Peter and hasn’t seen you enter the room. You just catch his last sentence, and when you hear it, your heart drops like a stone.

“You know, kid, I’m really proud of you. Sometimes I wish Y/N could do the things you could do. Well, I have always liked you better than her, anyways. Wish you were my son instead.”

His words cut you like a knife. You freeze in your tracks, feeling your delight from your invention disappear in a flash. From across the room, Peter looks up at you. For some reason, he doesn’t look as happy as he should be. He finally got what he wanted, and now you are left with nothing but desolation. Silently, you make your way out of the lab and onto the roof so you can be alone with the tears that are starting to slowly slide down your cheeks.

However, it seems like the universe has decided to not even give you a little time alone. In a matter of minutes, you can hear the pad of Peter’s footsteps on the roof behind you. Sighing, you turn to him, wiping the tears from your face so he can’t have that satisfaction. “What, Peter? You already got what you wanted. My dad said he wishes you were his child instead and I was there to see it. Can’t you just leave me alone?” 

Peter shakes his head, and you note that he looks surprisingly upset. “This- this isn’t what I wanted. I didn’t mean for him to say that.” You scoff. “Are you kidding me? Of course it’s what you wanted! The entire time I’ve known you, we’ve been at each other’s throats because we wanted Tony to like us the best. Congratulations, you won. Just-” Your voice breaks off. “Just leave me alone.”

first of all, dense paragraphs we've got here with the dialogue not split up! also tony's HARSH. not bad, though, all things considered. if i were to do it now, it would probably go something like this:

Tony Stark is a difficult man to track down, as he always is. You usually don't have that much trouble with locating him- as his daughter, you've always prided yourself on having some sort of connection that makes things like this a little easier, but it looks like today someone's even better at that then you. Tony's leaned up against a messy countertop in the lab, talking casually to Peter Parker.

You come just in time to hear the last snippet of what is no doubt glowing praise. As your steps falter, though, you hear not just pure kindness but a barb directed towards you. All good comes at some sort of cost, does it not? Right now, Tony's happiness has the price of his public affection towards you.

"Not bad, kid," Tony declares, "really, your stuff is solid. I think this is the part where I tell you that you've got a good head on your shoulders and all that. You know, I've never been amazing at this sort of thing, but it's easier with you. You get me, you know?"

He laughs casually and continues on. "Sometimes I swear you're just like me. I'm able to have these conversations better with you than Y/N, at any rate, and she's the one who's actually supposed to be my kid. You sure you guys can't do a swap sometime? I'm sure May wouldn't mind."

Tony's joking, but the words cut you to the core anyway. It's something about the way he says it that makes a copper tang rise to your tongue. Of course Tony's thought about this sort of thing before. Of course Tony Stark, the man who has always had everything he wanted or at least knows how to look like he does, has considered the benefits of having Peter as a child instead of you.

Tony's still chattering on, but you've long lost the ability to focus. You start to head away, but just before you turn completely you realize that Peter has noticed you standing in the hall outside. His face drains of blood, but even as his mouth opens to do something (apologize? call attention to your father that he may have made one mistake that he can't cover up with a funny one-liner?) you're already throwing yourself in the opposite direction.

The roofline welcomes you. Despite the rest of New York City roaring to life beneath you, up here it's just you and the endless sky. The tears are still drying on your cheeks, refreshed in full every time you play the scene over in your head. Tony, happily pronouncing how much he'd love to have Peter as a son instead of you, the unreachable daughter. Peter's face twisting in something almost like regret as he looks at you.

Footsteps sound behind you. You turn out of reflex to see Peter emerging from the door to the stairwell leading up to the roof. He usually walks around the complex like it's his second home, but right now he's never been less sure of himself. Peter hovers uneasily, waiting for you to banish him for good.

You're not in the mood to disappoint any more than usual, so you prepare a familiar biting tone. "What, come to brag? I mean, that declaration was as good as gold. I thought you'd at least take the high road and not remind me of it so quickly."

Peter shakes his head hurriedly. "That's not- I'm not here to brag. Trust me."

You arch a brow. "Trust you? I can't look at you without being reminded of the fact that my dad thinks you'd be such a better kid than me. How could I ever trust you again?"

ok so this is making me want to write the fic all over again. in an effort to cap myself off, i'm going to thank you for sending in the ask!! love ya <3

[tuesdaynightjam]

Songs That Never Get Old PT 2!!!!

Last summer the aux cord in my car broke. So obviously, instead of replacing it, I learned how to burn CDs the 'old fashion' way. In doing so I realized that some songs never get old.

Welcome back! If youre new here feel free to look at my part 1 and let me know what you think. This thread will have a lot more songs and fewer words so let's jump into it.

We'll start off strong with a group I love to tell people about!

Nothing Matters by The Last Dinner Party

Embarrassed to admit that I stumbled across this song on TikTok of all places but in the winter it quickly became one of my all-time favorites! After immediately becoming obsessed with The Last Dinner Party's sound, aesthetics, and religious-guilt themes. Not to mention they are a group comprised of five extremely talented and gorgeous humans. When I discovered the video for this song, I found a hundred more reasons to be obsessed with the song and this group. Give it a listen and try to tell me this song doesn't make you want to early-2000sstyle-jump-around-dance-your-messy-room. This group is also responsible for an all-around AMAZING discography so even if this song doesn't spark your fancy, throw them on shuffle in the background while you clean your room or car or whatever and you are sure to find at least one song you adore!

Bennie (and I cannot emphasize this enough) And The Jets!!!! by Elton John

Despite not loving every single one of his songs, I have always admired (to say the least) Sir. Elton John. This song has a contagious beat and fun lyrics! I mean when do we see the words "weird" and "wonderful" in the same sentences anymore? When I listen to this song, I can only hope someone out there is comparing me to the likes of this Bennie character. It evokes the appeal of Early Hollywood, raw instrumentals, and is an overall exciting tune. As a final note, watching the music video for the first time I was skeptical (as I am a lover of all things colorful) but found the opening sequence captivating, the costumes jaw-dropping and inspiring. And as is the way of Elton John, paired with a timeless classic jam!

Last but not least for part 2 of my series!!!

Fast Car by Tracy Chapman

Yes, you heard me right. Tracy. Chapman. The first time I heard Fast Car, it was a remix by Jonas Blue that I had no idea was a remix. That was until I showed the lo-fi pop remix to my mom who was able to correct my mistake and enlighten me. This song has been covered, remixed - the whole nine yards. But since discovering the original singer, Tracy Chapman, it has felt like a sin to listen to any other version. I will leave it to the comments on this YouTube video to tell you everything you need to know about the effect this song has on people's hearts. The effortless beauty of her voice is one like I have never heard before, feels like being hugged by someone close to you.

Again, I would love to hear what you guys think of these songs or videos! And if you know any songs like it please put them in the comments for me to discover! I am having a great time finally putting into words the stories and reasons why these are the songs (for me) that never get old!!!

[puttlesculpts]

Step 2: Sourcing & Blender pt 1

I don't know shit about 3D modeling!!! So I am applying my most essential skill: organically and ethically sourcing the things I cannot provide for myself.

I do actually have a fairly extensive background in hand building with clay, which is something I plan on incorporating at later steps, but I knew I wanted the base of this to be a 3D model since that would afford great flexibility and consistency. I bring this up cus I never dabbled much in CG (I tried off and on in the past, but to little success) but always wanted to be good at it. I realize it's an entirely new skill set, but thankfully there are elements to it that aren't too unfamiliar to me! You'd be surprised how much you can get away with by making subtle changes, and that is what I am banking on with the Sculpt mode in Blender.

So the first thing I sourced was this (royalty free) male body from hiflow3d on CGTrader. It's got the perfect amount of detail and a similar enough body type to my boy:

I am not shy when it comes to learning new programs and stuff, so the idea of rigging this from scratch ain't even a big deal (I actually did exactly that not too long ago, but it was on a different bodymesh and therefor not applicable to this project lmaoo).

But I say that knowing I'll be able to pull a lot of my own weight once this reaches the printing stage, which is comforting. For now it just needs to be good enough!

Here are the before and afters of his head:

Eyes are more shaped, brows furrowed, bigger schnoz, some changes to the chin & cheek bones, more shape to the skull/forehead

It's not perfect since my knowledge of Blender and how to really and truly work with it is so shallow, but again: it's good enough. Besides which, my dude has his entire head and most of his face covered, so it doesn't have to be perfect.

At this point I was ready to start rigging and intended to do everything else in post, but then I thought about how much easier it would be to NOT sculpt boots + gloves + everything else by hand (while being symmetrical) so I am instead gonna attempt to do as much of Layer 1 as I can in Blender.

Here's my first attempt as a cube-extruded boot:

And here's the second version after I decided to try harder and to scrap the first one for being too messy and anykine:

This is obviously still a WIP since I mainly just worked on the foot part, but it's not so bad. It's repetitive but fun once you get into the grove. IDK anything about efficiency in Blender yet, but I am trying my best to look out for future Devan by keeping these faces as neat and clean as possible.

I've started to get carried away with the smoothing, but I'm not too worried about it or the clipping since I'm just gonna chop off the legs underneath anyway & subdivide + smooth the boots. I could prolly even leave the feet as big blocks and just dremmel them down once it's printed, but hey, it's good to practice new things

[allthecolorsofourlove]

To Whom It May Concern,

I am home the 20th — 24th.

I’m pissed you’ve written me. Subtlety has never been your strong suit and I knew what you meant immediately. Get better, hide better, choose something other than beasts or jackets. Glad you’re still wearing it.

I’m sorry about your roommate by the way. That sounds like shit. I want to ask about it. I won’t.

I hope you’re okay.

I want nothing to do with you and the fact that I miss you makes me want to rip my teeth out, methodically, leave me nothing to wedge in you like a parting gift. Or perhaps leave me no way to hurt you ever again.

I’m home the 20th — 24th, just so you’re aware,

And it makes me furious to miss you at all, frankly, and it makes me even madder to write you back. It’s humiliating, really, and if I was wrong and the idea of enneagrams wasn’t the right motif for me then this is going to be twice as embarrassing and I’d like you to ignore this. Like, really. Fucking ignore it. Pretend I’m as smart as you thought I was when you said I wouldn’t call.

Really, I’m maddest that you’re saying girlfriend online and writing me still, if that is really what you're doing, because I cannot be that intoxicating and she can’t be that divine, if you’re still writing me, and it’s cruel to her too, so this better be good, or your door better be half open even if she has a key. You better be thinking this through. It better be the smell of the ocean or the sound of piano or your old dog, if he’s still around (and I hope he is), and it better not be feeling big, just feeling desperate, if you’re linked to her still, because this would be round two and that would be so, so fucking cruel. You did it with me to the first and then to me with the new girl and you cannot do it to her. I’d hate you, genuinely. Learn to be alone a little bit, for God’s sake. It's not your heart not knowing when to stop. You're just fucking scared of yourself. Breathe with him and learn about him, dude. Christ.

…Once again, I will be home the 20th — 24th.

So happy birthday, early. Because spring makes me soft and stupid. I’m walking through my city and I don’t think about you in yours but my heart hitches when I walk down the street our temporary apartment was on. The cherry blossoms are bursting like rosy sea foam and that pastry place will have their monthly apricot special soon. I’m kissing other mouths and it’s fun and I had other sex and it sucked. I’m making a mess. It feels like your fault even though I know it’s not. That week with the food festival is hazy and sticky sweet in my memory—your hand on my thigh and sharing a Korean corn dog or a joint or something else phallic and feeling like life would never be better than it was right then. Sometimes I think woefully that that feeling was right.

I don’t want to see you and everyone will tell me to run with that but I do want to see you and that makes me realize I’m impulsive and cruel. I have other hands I’m holding but I want you to fuck me and I want you to rub the knots from my back with gentle square hands and I sort of hate that I want that. It’s really pissing me off that I want that and I don’t know how real it is, whether I miss the idea of you or I miss you in reality. After writing this initially I went to bed and had a dream about you, all over me, and it freaked me out. I woke up and stared at the floor. I wanted to go back to sleep. Did you dream about me that night too? Fuck. I sat on this poem for a week. And during that week I dreamed about you twice. I’m 20 this month and I’m deciding that just don’t want to think about any of this that hard, though, because I’m turning fucking 20, and I don’t give a shit anymore, and I shouldn’t, because it’s all stupid. So take anyway. Fuck it. I’m mad. I’m sad. I’m horny. I’m tired. I'm... whatever. It's whatever.

You have to be chill about this by the way. Like, I know this is insane but you’re the one who started it. And at least I’m being honest with mine. I’m being flat and messy and honest. And my honest is saying, I don’t really think I want to date you, but I want to have sex, and I want to kiss you, and lay in your arms, and I miss you when I shouldn’t. I hate missing you. It’s second nature. I don’t know what to do with it. I feel like it’s rare for it to sweep over me in great waves, but when it does, I drown in it. And I’ve accidentally painted a version of you that doesn’t exist, to the people around me, or at least, they never really saw how much it hurt me to cut us in half. I did a good job of playing the strong one. So I just don’t say anything. I can’t say anything. Everyone tells me to move on so I want you for brief stints and then I move on. I try to. I wonder if I cut it off right on time or far too soon. Kitchen scissors always end up in my bathroom for some reason but I have to keep them handy, for some reason. I’m always quick to the jump, so I guess it I’ll never know. Whatever. Whatever.

(Hey, according to you it was right on time, right? I mean, you sure moved on quick. Hah.)

(Sorry. That was mean as shit. Ignore it.)

I’ll be home the 20th — 24th,

Which is weird because my childhood home feels like a prison sometimes, but I’m back for theatre again. My mom called me her son on the phone. I’m breaking down my current kissable escapades because I keep freaking out over how mundane it feels to be a man. Transitioning is easy if I let it be and if I don’t let it be then I’m sobbing in my room over stickers that praise transsexuality and declare the joy of being a faggot. I hope you’re doing okay. I hope surgery prep is okay. I’m looking into mine this month. I have to up my HRT dose, again. Fucking again. I keep getting periods. It’s criminal.

It always sort of felt like you treated me like a woman. That’s stupid to say. I know your dysphoria made sex weird and mine made it weird for me but I didn’t know how to phrase it. But I just felt infantilized sometimes, like it was easier for you to feel secure in your masculinity if you woobified me or made me fragile. It’s probably a me problem. I’m just airing my grievances anyway. If anything happens here, note the time I told you this drunk, and then my best friend whisked me away to bed.

By the way, you have to tell me when the sex is bad, because you never did, and it really fucked with me. Like I feel like I’m doomed to suck forever now. Because you just sort of would take my hands and go “Okay, you’re done,” if you didn’t like what I was doing, and you’d never moan, and I just felt like so embarrassed and weird about it. I have so much shame. Like, before you I had so much shame, and now I have even more. So if you take into account the fact that I am home the 20th — 24th you’re obligated to do the one thing I ask and communicate with me, if the dates that I’m home are something that interest you. At all. I’m just saying.

I know you aren't the only one at fault. I'm not saying that. I'm just howling at the moon. Biting off fleas, which have bothered me for seven months. I'm sure I have been restless and rude and ruthless even, and I'm sure I was back then too. I delayed it when I shouldn't have. I never spoke my mind. I'm sorry for it. I didn't always know how to speak to you—or how to get through to you. You're stubborn as shit, you know? You like to repress. It was easier to run with it and swallow discomfort and I shouldn't have done that. It wasn't fair to either of us. I'm trying to be honest, because I don't know how much I really was last summer. I'm trying to say it. Even when it's mean. Even if I don't know how, and

Even when I don't really want to.

This concludes the bulk of my letter.

Thanks for your interest in my proposal. If you have any at all. But you haven't blocked me and I'm watching you add songs to that playlist again that don't say that I'm the worst in the world or whatever, which are fair to add anyway, but you're just not doing it. I don't know why. (I scream-laughed when you added that Blink-182 song though. God, you're corny.) So I'm guessing you're interested. Once again, I am home the weekend before your 20th birthday. Which I understand you do not want to spend at home. It’s why I’m here that weekend and not the next, cause I really don’t want to spend my own at home.

It’s not lost on me that it’s the same weekend, a year apart. I’m just letting it be. I make a point to not think so hard about themes or narratives sometimes or else I’d lose my mind. But my majors won’t allow it, two versions of the same analysis, so I’m thinking about them, and I’m thinking about you. Which I also try to avoid. But I just don't do it.

Fuck. Fuck me. Jesus. Everyone will tell me that this is a bad idea. But I just thought you’d like to know. You have a car. A train. And a mind of your own. Whatever. Whatever. Whatever.

Honestly, I don’t even know what I’m asking for. I don’t know what seeing you would change or fucking you would change or kissing you would change. Nothing, really. I don’t even know why I’m writing this. Do you know why you wrote yours? Surely, you have to know that rekindling this permanently, seriously, so soon isn’t a good idea? We’re finally both settled in our cities. There’s no way this makes any sense.

Why did you even write in the first place? What… what’s making you come back?

What compelled you? I don’t understand. I thought we had both moved on.

I’m begging for an answer.

Maybe I’ll change my mind. Ask me again just before the aforementioned dates (the 20th — 24th, if you don’t remember). And if I do, change my mind about all this, I mean, let this be all the things I always wanted to say but never did. If nothing else at least it’s closure, right? Real closure. Like, not cloaked in poetry. It’s written alongside. And it’s not being written in the mist of that initial fragile night of, where I poured myself a double dorm margarita (two shots of tequila and organic lemonade) and watched my favorite TV show with friends, and thought I was fine. (For the record, I sort of was, until the end of October. Shit hit the fan after that. You really don’t want to know. I’m still cleaning it up. I’m still reeling about it. It's a long story.)

Closure has to count for something. …Right?

But right now I’m aching. And I’m seething. It’s 1am and 2pm and fucking midnight, and I hate missing you—I can’t get it to stop. Maybe I’ll quench it, somehow. Maybe I won’t. I still want to tell you these things anyway.

If I’m wrong, destroy this message immediately. Have fun with her and your dog tattoo (I actually, seriously mean it. I’d rather you be happy with her, even if I’m feeling whipped up and hungry, on occasion, because it’s truly better for both of us that way.)

(… Even if it’s fucked up to steal my motifs for your own tattoo, and I laughed when I saw you punch the string of my own pulled teeth into her skin, because I still remember that you were going to get that on yourself in my city.)

(Sorry. That’s mean.)

(I’m trying to be nicer... I’m trying to be clean. I’m trying to mop my mess up and tuck my corners in. I don’t want to keep hurting others, or myself, but I can’t quit it. Whatever I’m trying to do, it’s clearly not working. Or else I'd never write this message.)

Best wishes (sincerely—I really, really mean it, no matter what you do),

S. V.

[cyan-skulls-writing]

Annoying

Machine Herald!Viktor/gn!Reader

18+ ONLY minors DNI

aka the sybian fic

cw: sex machines, overstimulation

body neutral go nuts.

In your defense, he was ignoring you.

Well, “ignoring” might be a strong word. He was working like he always was— you knew he was working and you went to bother him.

But now you were here and he was ignoring you. The nerve.

He was welding something— a leg, you thought, and the most he even acknowledged you was to nudge you after when you tried to get his attention.

It was becoming annoying.

Unbeknownst to you (pretty beknownst to you) you were also becoming annoying. And Viktor is very big and made of metal, so it wasn’t exactly a fair fight.

He growls from under his mask, hefting you up over a shoulder and carrying you to another part of the lab, another table with some device hidden under a sheet. He sets you down roughly, then flips the sheet back to reveal some strange machine. It’s a box with some rod-like attachment and a small raised bump in front of it. As he begins to pull your bottoms off and prep your hole you realize what this machine is.

Viktor made a sex machine, presumably for you, facing his workstation, so he can watch you get off while he works.

Gods, you love him so much.

You slip down on the cock easily, as you settle on the device, Viktor trots behind you and fiddles with some knobs when suddenly the machine starts to vibrate underneath you.

You shriek in surprise, and Viktor grabs your hips from behind.

“Since you always like to be a brat and disturb me at my work, I thought I should contrive some way to… entertain you. So that I may work in peace without your disturbances. So, now I will keep working, and you are going to sit here like a good little pet and cum all you like until I think you’re done. Alright? If you move before I say you’ll be over my knee.”

You’re shaking. You can’t even speak, the machine beneath you stealing your words as it buzzes incessantly.

“My love? Give me a color.”

“G-green, it’s good, it’s good, Viktor, honey, it’s so good—“

“Well, I’ll leave you to it then.”

So that leads you to now. You’re uncertain as to the number of orgasms you’ve had, by your best estimation you haven’t stopped cumming since he turned the machine on and left you there.

Currently, Viktor is at some delicate work, detailing tiny mechanisms in a metal hand so that it can perform fine motor functions. You think the person who needed this was a tailor of some kind. Viktor’s attention to detail would be quite helpful to them.

You were currently being very unhelpful by whining and moaning at increasing frequency and volume, trying to get his attention. You hadn’t had much luck so far as you could tell, although he was hard to read with the mask on.

You jump when he speaks again.

“Little one, if you cannot contain your noises I will have to gag you. This is your only warning.”

You begin to whine, then think better of it. He’d never push you past a limit, but his punishments tended to be harsh. You’d rather not push him more— this is already driving you crazy. All you can do is sit down and try to be quiet.

You realize he’s in front of you now, mask off, staring into your eyes, searching your face.

“Check in?”

If you were actually in pain or uncomfortable, you could say red. You could ask him to stop right now and he’d probably fuss over you for the rest of the day. You could tell him you think he often forgets about you when he works like this, and that you come to annoy him out of concern and care for him. You could tell him you just want to go cuddle. But he knows that. He knows why you do this, so where’s the fun in that?

“Green.”

He reaches behind you and turns a knob, and the machine vibrates more. It’s insane, incredible, and your eyes roll back in your head, your mouth hanging open as you begin to ascend into nirvana.

“Look at you, my poor little darling, so far gone you can’t even close your mouth. You’re drooling, my love, gods, look at how messy you are.”

You reach out and clutch at his shoulders, shaking hands scrambling over his cape.

“Please, please don’t go I can’t, I can’t, I can’t—“

“I won’t, my love, I’m right here. Give me one more, solnishko, just one more and we can be done.”

Your orgasm does not wash over you. It torrents you, a tempest of sensation and that intoxicating pleasure-pain-pleasure of overstimulation.

As you rock on the machine, Viktor holds and strokes you, whispering praises in your ear and holding you together as you come down.

The machine stops, and you are pulled up and cradled in warm, steel arms. Viktor begins heading out of the lab, headed to the small living quarters you keep here. You drift off before you even reach the bedroom.

[astaroth1357]

Demigod MC Series: Ares

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena, Hades Pt. 2, Poseidon, Ares

Lucifer

He cannot overstate what kind of damage this mortal was able to do in their first few seconds in the Devildom...

The instant they got to their feet, they had managed to incapacitate Satan and knock down Beel. Lucifer himself tried to get between them and Diavolo but…

If he hadn’t moved his head, if he was standing just ONE INCH to the left… he wouldn’t have a head anymore. Barbatos was there to intervene, but had he not they could have probably taken out the Avatar of Pride and done critical damage to the Demon Prince himself in one strike...

Frankly, Lucifer prefers not to dwell on that moment... He's sure Ares must be proud of this one...

He pretty much treats the mortal like a live bomb afterward, if he can get away with not interacting with them at all, that’s what he’ll do.

He’s NOT scared of them... much... It’s just that they have a bullish and uncooperative attitude at best and since they know they can take any of them, they don't even consider him - Lucifer, the eldest demon brother - a threat...

But you know what the most frustrating thing is? They won't give him an inch of respect, but they'll always listen to Levi! Levi!!

Look, Lucifer knows he may not hold a rank among the Hell's army and he might not have been a major player in the Celestial/Demonic wars of the day, but he's still the strongest demons here, dammit!! 😡

Lucifer finds nothing is more embarrassing than having to ask Levi of all people to keep the mortal in line because he can't... Oh, the humiliation… He hopes they leave soon...

Mammon

At first, he thought they were scary. But in time he thought they were scary… and also pretty damn awkward.

Mammon wasn’t there when they more or less wiped out the majority of his brothers in the Conference Hall but when he finally showed up he'd never seen Lucifer look so pale… If THAT doesn't make you shit your pants, he doesn't know what will.

Naturally, he kind of toned it down on the "stupid human" stuff real quick after seeing that…

But here's the thing. After the two made a pact together, Mammon started to notice that the MC wasn't all that mean, they were just… violent?

He legitimately thought that they couldn’t stand him for a while until one day a guy on the street called him a dirtbag. The MC threw a punch right there! No questions asked, they just decked that guy!!

It was kind of touching… and messy. Very messy. Did he mention that they’re terrifying yet? 😥

As it turns out, the MC has apparently spent a lot of their life just fighting things and being asked to fight things so they're not very used to showing non-violent affection… 

It took him awhile, but he realized that their way of saying, "I like you," is, "I will attack your enemies." So now all he does when his brothers tease him is say, "I'm telling MC!'' and they'll stop immediately. It's great!! 😁

Considers them to be his bodyguard when he goes out to gamble in some… shadier places. Most of the time not even the bouncers want to take on the MC, ain't nobody getting paid enough to lose that many teeth…

Leviathan

Okay, so. It's not very obvious anymore, but he USED to be on the front lines of the war against demons in the Celestial Realm. He was in charge of battle strategies, he led armies, and even now he still holds the highest rank of the royal navy!

So leave it to the kid of a war god to sniff all that out about him, huh…? They appeared to know all about his record the instant they saw him and they actually seemed to respect him for it!

For context, this mortal tells pretty much everybody to shove off but any time he’s around they call him “Admiral” or “sir” and actually pay attention to what he says! He can tell it drives Lucifer insane, but honestly? It’s a bit of an ego boost. 😌

It’s sort of cute when they come to him asking for tactical advice… They get just as into it as he does with his anime and any time he points out something that they haven't seen before they get so excited it's like they're a kid watching a magic trick. HUGE ego boost. 😏

Speaking of anime, it’s hit or miss whether or not they can watch any of it. Anything with good fight scenes (and let’s be honest, not that much talking) they’re on board for. But if the hero and the villain talk to each other for like an episode before throwing punches then the MC will just rant...

MC: “The enemy is distracted... Why aren’t they attacking yet??”

Levi: “Because the villain killed the hero’s best friend and they’re-”

MC: “They could avenge their friend right now if they ended things right here!”

Levi: “MC, we’ve been over this... That’s not how plot works.”

MC: “And now he got away!! See?? They should have killed him when they had the chance!”

Levi: “*sigh*... Let’s just play some CoD.”

Satan 

The last thing he remembered when the “human” hopped out of the portal was a sharp pain to the side of the temple and Asmo wailing as he fell unconscious…

Yeeeeah, not great. And unfortunately for the mortal the Avatar of Wrath tends to hold a grudge… 

For a comparatively brief moment in time, all of Satan’s considerable ire had shifted away from Lucifer and to their new housemate. They found their bed, clothes, pillows, food, and even their toothbrush cursed!

… But Ares kids must be built from some strong stuff, because half of what he employed didn’t even faze them! He even put an explosive spell on their backpack and not only did they tank the blast, it didn’t hurt them at all!! It was like they’re damn near immortal!

Annnnd they kind of are. Apparently the MC had taken a dip in the River Styx at some point before and became nigh invulnerable…

Was it maybe a little terrifying to know that they had kidnapped a nearly invincible demigod on the level of Achilles? Yes. Did that also mean that they must have had a weakness too? In theory....

Satan honestly devoted a depressing amount of time trying to uncover the “Achilles’ Heel” of his new sworn enemy… until…

The MC was walking with him and Asmo to RAD one morning when they passed by a group of lesser demons harassing a small puppy. Now Satan may be more of a cat man, but NO ONE fucks with animals while he’s around.

He was right about to go over and rip those demons a new one but the MC actually beat him to it! Apparently, the second that they realized what was happening, they launched themselves forward and started bashing the abusers' heads into a wall!

… Live by violence, forgive by violence because in that very moment Satan decided they weren’t so bad after all. He even joined in!

Oh, Asmo gave them both shit all day for the bloodstains on their uniforms and the scratches on their… everywhere, but it’s not like either of them cared. Righteous justice had been served and it was glorious!!

100% would team up with the MC in some kind of vigilante “punish-all-animal-abusers” gig. They have but to ask. 😌

Asmodeus

Oh they TERRIFIED Asmo when they first showed up! How else was he supposed to react?? They brought down his brothers like they were made of cardboard!!

Though he had to admit that the confident, battle-ready look they had about them was sexy as hell, he knew better than to go bear poking! 😣 He avoided them like plague until they finally asked him for a pact.

And then he discovered something… something very unexpected….

They're actually adorable!!!

Okay, like, not in appearance (they look like they could pile drive Cerberus for Pete’s sake!) but he discovered that they have NO CLUE how to handle physical affection. Like zero!!

The first time Asmo actually got the courage to try and hug them he expected them to toss him off, but instead they just stood there like a malfunctioning doll, all flustered and confused… It was so cute!!! 🥰

From that point on, Asmo would take every chance he could to wrap his arms around them or kiss their cheeks just to watch them try and fail to handle it. It's more fun than picking on Levi!!

It took two months for them to finally attempt any kind of reciprocation and even that was adorable! They pecked him on the forehead without thinking about it then nearly passed out from the realization. Apparently, they had never felt like kissing anyone before so he was quite honored!

The brothers know that if the MC's looking too mad to listen to Levi, they just need to call Asmo. A nigh invincible warrior becomes a LOT less scary after you’ve cuddled them into submission! 🤭

Beelzebub

Beel didn't like them one bit, at least not at the beginning. They had managed to get past him and actually attack Lucifer which was NOT a great first impression on their part...

He honestly saw them as a threat for a while, but unlike the rest of his brothers he didn’t avoid them. He just kept an eye on them.... constantly….

Look. Beel is a big guy. Stealth is not his strong suit… If he's tailing you, you're probably going to know about it because there's a six-foot something behemoth in orange following you around while pounding down bags of chips. He's not very subtle…

That being said, after following them around for a while the two finally got to talking and he realized that they didn’t want to hurt anybody or anything. They were just acting on instinct before.

After making the MC promise not to hurt any of his family, they got on much better terms. Hell, he actually got them into fangol!

Beel's sport of choice is pretty much just ultra-violent American football so the MC took a liking to it instantly! After enough begging, the coach let them try out and they got onto his team immediately.

He likes having them as a teammate! They're very good at the game, uh... even if they take it a little too seriously…

They once tried to convince his teammates to decorate the team bus with "the helmets of their fallen foes." They're REALLY into the sport… But hey, they haven't lost a game since they’ve joined. It’ll be fine!... Probably.

Belphegor

Hahaha… He’s in danger… 😥

It took one look at this mortal to make him rethink the whole, “Trick the Human” plan… Since when have humans looked like that?? They could crush his skull under their heel!!

It took all he had in him to play it cool when they first met because his internal monologue was nothing but screaming… THIS was the "human" he had to use to get him out of there?? How in the WORLD was he going to kill them?!

Admittedly, he had to think about it for a while. Belphie's a clever guy… and a demon. So who needs an honorable fight, anyway? If he can’t win one-on-one, then he’ll cheat!

He waited until the MC got the door open and didn't attempt a frontal assault… No laughter, no gloating. He just waited for them to turn their back, claws ready to dig out their heart, and then-!

MC: "Do you really want to try that?"

The MC must have had some kind of danger sense, because they didn't even have to turn around to know what Belphie was doing…

MC: "Look. I like Beel and you're his twin brother… So I'm willing to let this slide. But if you really want to try me…"

MC: *looks over their shoulder with the glare of a bona fide killer* "I won't hold back."

That was... very persuasive.

The MC brought Belphie down to the others peacefully with his tail between his legs and honestly Lucifer was more relieved that he wasn’t a bloodstain on the floor than he was mad… They could have killed him sooo easily… 

They did, indeed, forgive and forget about the whole “attempted murder” thing, though Belphie was never quite able to shake off how frightening they were in that moment… He had nightmares for a while.

Thankfully, Asmo clued him in that the MC would melt into a harmless puddle of fluff if they got even the slightest bit of physical affection... Oh, the sweet payback he could dish out... It’s cuddle time. 😏

[darkacademicfrom2021]

"The party could be anywhere"

Tags: Smut :)

Prompts from @justforshitandcackles and @palettes-and-prompts

Pairing: Loki x AFAB!reader (gender not specified)

Word count: 3.4K

Warnings: DNI IF YOU’RE A MINOR, 18+ only. Dom!Loki, choking kink, slight degradation kink, alcohol, consensual but insistent (don’t be like this in real life, if it’s not explicit consent then it’s a no), dirty talk, fingering, partially public sex, bruises, voice kink, teasing, control play, marking kink, daddy kink, slight pain kink.

A/N: If you know me, no you don’t. This my my first smut so beware the shitty writing :)

If Loki had not caught you staring so intensely, you would probably be still at the bar, leaning over the counter ever so slightly to reach for a drink from time to time, safe from risking everything you never thought you’d risk.

But he did see you. And he smirked. You tried to ignore him and went back to your conversation with Vision, actively fixing your eyes on him as he talked, avoiding to show just how hot you were feeling.

“And that is why I cannot actually get drunk”, he said, finishing his explanation. You hadn’t heard a word. Everything in your brain right now was Loki’s silhouette in those leather skin-tight trousers and a black shirt with the sleeves carefully rolled over the elbow. Him and his raven hair neatly collected in a messy low bun, that left his neck veins so exposed —agh.

You shook your head and faked a cough, trying to come back to reality.

“Right. Then I guess I’ll have to do it for the both of us”, you said, grabbing his glass and drinking it.

“I sense you are not being yourself today”, commented Vision, and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m fine. I just want to have fun”, you said, emptying the glass and asking for another one. But he was right —you weren’t yourself. Your limits were feeling a little bit blurrier than usual, and you knew you shouldn’t have gone to that party; not when Loki was there too —not when you had specific instructions to not get anywhere near involved with him unless necessary —this felt necessary, and that was what scared you the most. Vision gestured to the bartender to not give you a refill. “Hey! I’m not a kid”.

“If I’m correct in my speculations over what you want to do, I assure you, it is not a good idea”, he warned, eyeing a certain God you’ve been checking out all night. You didn’t think Loki was hearing the conversation, until a grin appeared across his lips. “I’ll get you a lemonade. Stay here”.

“Yeah. Great idea, leave me all alone, drunk and…”, you began saying, but the words fell off your mouth as you realized he wasn’t there anymore.

As soon as Vision left, you felt like an unsupervised chaotic child. Your eyes fixed back to Loki’s body, roaming around while he supposedly talked to Thor, and when they finally got to his face —lingering a little too long on his well defined arms— you realized his eyes were already on yours.

You tried to pretend like nothing happened, looking away and searching for Vision in the crowd. But you couldn’t escape the voice inside your head, low as a groan, seductive and mocking at the same time.

“Enjoying the view?”.

You choked on your drink, and looked at him perplexed.

“You can…?”, you thought, and he, pretending to listen to his brother, kept eyeing you with a smirk across his face. “Of course you can”.

“I can also see what you’re seeing in your head”, he pointed out. You were about to retort, saying that it was none of his business, but you soon recalled every single thought you’ve had since you’ve seen him in those godly pair of trousers, not leaving too much to the imagination. Maybe it was a little his business. “Ah, I love that shade of bright red”, he chuckled, and you felt your face get redder, if possible.

“Please, get off my head”.

“I seem to be very installed already”.

“Get off my… stop being here. I don't want to be working on my day off".

"Who said you'd be working? I just want to chat".

"Chatting with you means working".

"Well, then work".

You rolled your eyes and fidgeted with your watch. It was late, and you had to make presence in that stupid party that was mind-numbingly boring. You didn't want to work, but you wanted to talk to him. Lately, he seemed like the only one worth talking to in that compound. The only one who actually listened.

"It feels weird that you've hidden from me for so long you can talk telepathically".

“Would you like me to walk towards you and talk face to face, instead?”.

You thought about it. Yes, yes you did. Of course you wanted him to come near you and talk to you all night long, as much as you wanted him to do other things all night long. But Vision came shortly after, and you repressed every single action you could’ve done to walk towards Loki and flirt. You really, really shouldn’t flirt with him. It was for the best, you thought.

“Your lemonade”, said Vision, handing you a glass. “We were talking about the relationship between human reactions to…”, he started talking again, but you drifted off to Loki’s voice in your head.

"Your attires are overly flattering on that body of yours, tonight".

"Don't".

“Come on, stop pretending like you don’t want me to have you on all fours and…”.

“Don’t do this”, you warned, “don’t do this because I don’t want to be all bothered and flustered”.

"Ah, is that the reason? I thought you were just being professional. You know, if for one night you give up your control over me and let me be in charge…".

"Stop smooth talking, I don't… I don't want to be like this all night", you whined. You could already feel the heat between your legs, and pressed them to pretend you weren't getting hot by just his words.

“You wouldn’t be bothered if I actually did what I’m planning on doing”.

You could feel your brain burning at the implications of those words. Was Loki just mindlessly flirting? Was he doing this to annoy you or trick you in some way?

“Tell me”.

His wide grin made you shiver in anticipation. Oh, boy, was he a dark one.

“If it were up to me”, he said in an even lower tone of voice, “I’d eat every inch of you until you shiver and tremble and beg for dear mercy”.

Your heart skipped a beat, and your face flustered even hotter. The air around you thickening, dense as water, dense as blood. Vision didn’t seem to be aware of what was happening, too immersed in his own explanations. You swallowed and tried to compose your posture, ignoring Loki’s piercing gaze across the room.

“Loki, now you’re being inap…”, you began, but he interrupted you, knowing you were only trying to convince yourself. He could see every thought in that head of yours, he knew you didn’t mean it —he knew you were far from meaning it.

He also knew he meant every single one of his words.

“I’d pass my tongue through every little spot of yours, grabbing you tightly until you’d bruise so that you couldn’t squirm away from me. I’d lick you up and down, taking my time to make you see stars”.

You squirmed in your seat, trying to stay still. Your heart pounded so loudly you were sure he could hear it. You inhaled and exhaled deeply, and finally redirected your eyes back at him. He smirked again and kept talking.

"I'd penetrate you with my tongue until you begged for my cock. I’d make you come over and over, your grip pulling on my hair so tightly you’d think it'd rip my scalp off. I’d make you come until all things that could come out of that filthy mouth of yours were my name, and my name only”.

The heat in your face was now too evident to deny it. You knew Vision asked you something but your brain was almost numbed by his words. You nodded, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

“I’d bend you over in that counter, and I’d claim you as mine. I’d bury myself in you, filling you in and out, and in and out, and in and—”.

“Alright, stop it!”, you said out loud, and Vision frowned, stopping his words.

“What’s wrong?”.

“Sorry. No, not you. I’m… I’m sorry, I need to do something”, you stuttered as you could, leaving towards Loki.

“Me?”, chuckled Loki from his spot. You rolled your eyes and walked to him, asking Thor to leave you alone. Once you were finally free from others’ stares, you punched his shoulder.

“Stop doing that, you’ll be the death of me”.

“Well, I can stop teasing and start living up to my promises, love”, he whispered, looking you up and down.

You lowered your head, thinking about it. What would be the damage in fucking the God of Mischief that was under your supervision, in domiciliary arrest because he tried to take over the world? Surely nothing bad could happen. Except the possibility of getting fired, or tricked by him, or hurt.

“You’re not taking me to bed. Ever”.

“Who said it had to be in bed? I did say counter, did I not?”, he chuckled darkly, and you swallowed. He kept going. “It could be anywhere. On that pretty couch of Stark’s, too. I’m sure you’ve touched yourself thinking about it, don’t deny it”.

“Come on. What are you doing?”, you asked. You felt so stupid. He definitely was playing with you. He knew you had the hots for him and he was pushing his own limits to see just how much on the tip of his fingers he had you —maybe not enough—not in the way you wanted.

“Is it not obvious enough? Do you want a physical exemplification?”.

“I mean… why are you doing this?”.

He sighed and put a strand of your hair behind an ear, smiling. In the same deep velvety voice he’s been making you flustered with, he purred in your ear,

“I want you to be mine”.

You didn't suppress your shivers, and he chuckled darkly once again. Maybe he was being serious. Maybe you could bend your boundaries a little bit for him. You whispered on his ear, trying to not catch the attention of other people,

"We can't leave the party. We have to stay".

"Or… we could just go for a second. We don't even have to leave. Darling, we're here, but the party could be anywhere".

“If we get caught…”.

“We won’t. If you want to scream, I’ll gag you”, he teased.

It didn't take much more convincing. Soon, you were following his long steps down the hallways of the compound, not even leaving the floor. He suddenly grabbed you and pushed you with him into a small room, like a janitor closet. The place was so small, if you tried to stretch your hands to the wall, your elbows would be still bent.

Loki was right behind you, your back against his chest, and he began placing soft kisses on your skin. His hands moved to your hips and stomach, pressing you against him. Your breathing was unstable, too loud for it to not be heard. If anyone passed by the hallway, they’d hear you panting.

He got a hold on your neck, squeezing enough for you not to move, and slowly sliding his other hand down your abdomen, through your pelvis, until just beneath your underwear. His breathing grazed your ear, and he purred,

"May I?".

"Please", you breathed out, almost too quickly. He slid a hand further down, stopping before touching you, his digits lingering to be where you needed them to.

“I want to hear you say it”.

“Please, touch me”.

He moved his hand from your neck to your hair, pulling from it to expose your clavicles, and sank his teeth into you, finding all of the right spots for you to let out breathy moans. He groaned against your skin.

"I like those. I want to hear more", and bit you harder, making sure to leave a mark.

You began slightly rubbing your ass against his bulge, and he rocked his hips, showing you just how much you turned him on, too. His cold fingers traveled to your entrance, and your breath hitched at the feeling.

“Ah, Loki—”.

"Mmmh", he smirked. "You're so wet for nothing, darling", and then whispered harshly "let me give you a reason".

His fingers began to work on you, rubbing slow circles in your clit, making you grind against his hand, trying to speed up the infernally slow movements he was giving you. You tried to suppress your moans, but whatever he was doing with his mouth on your skin… he knew how to do it.

Soon, you were a hot and panting mess, grinding against him as much as you could, and he held your hip with his free hand, avoiding you from moving any further.

“Pushing back against my fingers already? How pathetic”.

"Then fuck me”.

“I’ll take my time”.

You didn’t want him to take his time. You wanted him to pull down his trousers and fuck you mercilessly against the wall, until all you could think of was him and him only. But he kept drawing slow circles on your clit, collecting your wetness to lubricate and increasing pressure ever so slightly.

His other hand was now resting on your neck, grabbing you softly yet dominantly enough for you to feel the heat on your abdomen, words of begging wanting to escape your lips —but you pushed them down. You could make him do it through other ways.

You slid your hand behind you, finding his erection. You grabbed him with strength and pressed it with your palm and he let out a low moan, his grip on your neck getting stronger. You undid his belt and sneaked your hand under his trousers, massaging his erection over the boxers. His hips buckled and his hand on your neck was gripping stronger.

"Stop provoking me or I’ll choke you a bit too tight”, he groaned in a raspy voice.

“What? Afraid of… ah, afraid of losing control?”, you tried to tease. He chuckled.

“Listen to you… you can’t even form a sentence without moaning”, he said, and without any further preparation, he slid a finger inside of you. You gasped sharply, and he kissed the heat in your face from behind, watching how sweaty and needy you were getting for him. “Shh, wouldn’t want your dear Avengers to know who’s helping you get off, would you?”, he said, fitting another finger and curling it in the right spot. This time, you couldn’t hold back your moans, throwing your head back, resting it on his collarbone. He had the perfect access to your chest, and he bent over to bite, leaving marks as his fingers began thrusting in and out of you, while still stimulating your clit with his thumb.

“I… I need you to… ah—”, you began saying, eyes shut tightly. As his thrusts sped up, his grip on your neck tightened and your face got even redder for the lack of air.

“What? Do you like it when I touch you like this?”, he said between his own gasps and groans, while you pressed yourself against his bulge, giving him friction and yet so close— “do you want me?”.

“I… I want you”, you managed to say, feeling the pressure building up in your lower abdomen, shivers from the hot and cold feeling that was his body against yours. “I want you”.

“Then say my name”.

“I… ah— I want you, Loki”, you couldn’t keep your voice down. Even though you were whispering, it was rough and loud, and it drove him even crazier, speeding up his thrusts and the circles on your clit getting sloppier.

“Say my name”, he repeated, speeding up the movement.

“Loki, Loki I want you, Loki—”.

“Say. My. Name”, he rasped.

“Lo… Loki”.

“No. Say my name”, he groaned in your ear and bit it harshly, and just by the way he said it, gripping you so hard you could feel the bruises about to paint your neck, marking you for everyone to see —just then, you understood what he wanted.

“I want you, daddy”.

He stopped the thrusts taking his fingers off you, and you whined. In a quick movement, he turned you around and slammed you against the wall, bringing one of your legs up and kissing you deeply, his tongue twirling with yours, his lips as hot and soft as you could ever fantasize they’d be.

You brought your hands up to his hair and pulled at it to expose those neck veins you’ve been meaning to mark for months, and as soon as you began working on them, he moaned loudly, rocking his hips against yours, holding your waist strongly.

You grinded against him, completely ruining his trousers and feeling his erection trying to break free, pulsating for your contact. He pulled his trousers slightly down and with a green light he had already a condom on.

“Well”, you said, panting, “that’s effecti…”, but you were cut on your words as he entered you in one quick motion, opening you up and stretching you more than you ever thought you could. You moaned loudly, and he groaned against your lips.

He began slowly, enough for your mind to go completely numb. You were saying things —his name, how much you liked it, but none of you were hearing it. All you could hear was your skin against his, slapping together faster and faster, his lips grazing over yours without kissing —moaning into the other’s mouths.

“I’m… ah, I’m so close—don’t stop”, you muttered, and he lowered one hand and began working on your clit again, the feeling becoming too much all of the sudden. You rocked your hips, matching his movements, and he grabbed you tighter against him with his whole arm. You scratched his back with your nails, and he thrusted deeper, knowing he ruined everyone else for you.

“N—Norns, you’re doing so good for me, agh”, he whispered in your ear. “You’re such a little whore—”.

He grabbed you by the hair and pulled your head back, making his movements sloppier and somehow even stronger —it hurted in the best way possible. You weren’t even trying to hide your moans, despite hearing footsteps right outside the closet.

“Come for me”, he commanded, and you, already over the edge, tried to hide your face on his shoulder. He grabbed you by the jaw strongly and made you look him in the eyes. “Look at me. I want to see you come all over me”.

As if he had just pressed a button, you came violently against him, calling his name in a way he was sure everyone in the compound heard. He came right after, and stayed inside of you until you could compose yourself.

Breathing hard, you laid your head on his chest and he pulled off you, surrounding you with his arms gently —as if he hadn’t fucked you to oblivion a minute ago. He kissed your temple and chuckled.

“I wanted to do this for ages”, he whispered, and you nodded, not actually capable of talking just yet.

Someone knocked at the door, and you got so startled you squealed. Loki hurried to cover your mouth, but it was too late.

“Who’s there?”, asked Thor. “Are you alright?”.

“Oh, it’s my brother”, said Loki, rolling his eyes. “Yes, Thor. Nothing to see here”.

“Oh. I see”, you could hear Thor blushing from behind the door. “Good, then. That… nobody’s hurt”.

“I never said nobody is hurt”.

“For the Norns, Loki, I don’t want to know!”, said Thor’s voice increasingly far from where you were, as if he was covering his ears. Loki chuckled darkly against your skin and kissed your shoulder softly.

“Are you alright?”.

“Better than before”.

“You know… I still haven't gotten a chance to taste you”, he said, sinking his nose on your hair. “I bet you taste divine”.

“Oh, we should continue the party, then”, you said. And he grabbed you in the air, carrying you to his room trying to avoid crossing with anyone in the way.

The party had just started, then.

Taglist: @lucywrites02 , @louieboo87 @the-departed-potato , @jesuswasnotawhiteman , @idontknow296 , @beksib , @spythoschei , @geekwritersworld , @whatafuckingdumbass , @mysticunicorn7 @shadowolf993 , @joscelyn02 , @t00-pi , @selfship-mishaps , @sallymagnoliaposts , @deadgirl88 , @theonewiththenerds , @vicmc624 , @spiderlaufeyson @theaudacitytowrite @bi-andready-tocry @alorev @justasmisunderstoodasloki @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson @theetoastyghosty @lokiprompts @sarahpaq08 @lostgreekgod