#and yeah there are body types I haven't focused on as much- I have some plans there actually. but I don't view my body posi art as

[moominmanoneandonly]

Soo some time ago i started writing my first ever fanfic. It's an Transformers au, basically the retelling of how Orion and Megatron meet focused on gladiator lifestyle + all that class diffrence and Cybertron drama with some Megasound love. Haven't touched it in a while but I believe it's not a lost couse yet.

That said english is not my first language and I have Dyslexia so forgive me for all mistakes that I know are there and any type of opinion about the work would be both a great help and big motivation to continue it.

Ships: Megop, Megasound, KOBD, BulkJack, Dratchet, Megastar(but not really)

Warnings: sugestive topics, mentions of prostitution, very bad fights descriptions,

Title in works

Celling lights were flickering once again. Technically they should've been fixed by staff some time ago but no one really cared about better quality of living or honestly anything concerning gladiators in the Pits that didn't involved fighting.

Megatronus wasn't exactly bothered by a such small think like flickering lights, however he did belive that one day they're gonna give him a seizure.. not today trought.

With a loud clank bigger mech get up from his berth trying to mentally prepere for the upcoming cycle. From what he remembered he only had one big fight today, some meanigless browl with a "Kalis Champion" that was supose to "finally break his wining streak."

Megatron seen recordings of the bot fighting before so he could tell that it was just another marketing attempt and not an actual challenge, he will be able to deal with that scrap easily.. of course making sure that the audience is entertained.

The thing that actually bothered him was what's gonna happend right after the fight. The arena workers were going crazy for last few chords, non stop beeping about upcoming gala that was going to happen on this day. He heard them talking about some big names showing up, even something about "Prince of Vos" if gladiator's memory was right.

Technically those events were supose to be good, they gave a chance to taste some better quality energon and assured a free day right after, since all superiors would be to out of it to care about organizing fights.

But then comes the bad part. The "quality time with sponsors" as his superiors liked to call it. Megatron was honestly quite lucky since his frame was pretty big and his overall build not that arousing to the most of cybertonian sociaty, he rarely get more that one client at those types of events. Soundwave for example had it far worse, with his smaller frame and considerably attractive features. Which was exactly why Megatron made sure to send his dear friend to emergency room just last cycle.

It sounds brutal for an outsider but considering that basically none of his matches tended to stay alive it was obliviously a staged gesture. That said it still did quite some damage to his companians body for those he promised himself to get as much high value emergon as he can today to give his poor friend, maybe also steal some spare parts for cassetes if he's lucky.

For some reason Soundwave seemed to get more and more iritated lately anytime Megatron went to those events without him. He even witnessed him sulking at some point which gladiator didn't even know the cassete player was capable off.

Yeah he really needs to repay Soundwave for all that time in recovery room.

- - -

Walking trought the many corridors of Keons arena he tried to plan his cycle accordingly, he still need to train in the morning otherwise Tarn will get his ass and that mech did not had ANY prefrences in terms of size or build, so yeah he is not letting his "not yet violated by Tarn" achivement disapear today. Otherwise till the fight he still had some free time, maybe he could write down some of the poems or get to finish that data-pad that he stole the last time there was a gala.

After the fight he would have to go to Knockout to make sure he "look his best for the party". Those visits really were something. Mainly tiresome but sometimes it was genuinly funny to see the red mech lose his mind over all those ways he tried to make Megatron apealing, he would said stuff like "I swear to Primus if you wear those black heels again I'm going to cut off your pedes!" and stuff like that.

It was quite exhousting lot of the time but i was also suprisingly educating the rest.

Somehow Knockout with his limited medical knowledge and beautifying talent was able to offer a better information sources than even Soundwave himself. The amount of gossip coming out of the race car could fill in an entire archive on it's one. Sure only 10% of it was usefull but with that amount of given informations it was still a lot.

"Maybe he will know something about the politics this time," Megatron trought.

The last few visits at the salon he spend listening to Knockout ranting about some poor blue mech that he chose to be his future conjux altrought the bot is suposely in some comitted relationship.

Talking to the red race car about morality of his action was like trying to teach an insecticon how to read, those Megatron had to sit still for arks while medic was gushing over his moraly questionable crush.

Now he kinda prayed that the bots ended up together becouse otherwise he's probably going to shot himself today and his dream political carrer will end even before it properly started.

" Attention everybody todays main fights will start in 7 arcs, be prepered for the ring at least an arc beforehand!"

A loud screeching voice came out from the old speakers hanging from a nearby wall. "Perfect" trought Megatron "that's enought time for him to finish his workout read the old datapad and perhaps even mentaly preper for the night. Who knows maybe he will be lucky enough to not fit to any of the guest tastes." With a new hope for this cycle Megatron fully concentrated on his training, quietly counting tics until his next break.

....

Did Orion ever mentioned that he doesn't like gladiators fights? Becouse he really doesn't. They are messy, unnecessarly cruel and honestly world would be better without them in clarks modest opinion. That said Orion never actually seen one nor was ever intrested enought to learn about them.. until now.

For once in his life he really regretted his ignorance

Just last chord he find out that his favorite author was no one else but one of the gladiators from the Pit itself. What even more shocking, he didn't just write those amazing works that Orion had laying on his bearth and any free desk in his romm, but he publicaly talked about them in the middle of his fights.

"Megatronus" A name he first assumed was an peculiar aposthrope to the great Prime turned out to be a much more fitting stage name for a fighter. While the reason why the materials were so limited wasn't becouse of high demand but simple couse the works weren't oficially published.

"How could I not realise it earlier? I work in archives for Primus sake!"

Coming back to the present moment.

-NO, I'm not taking you to that gala!- Ratchet answered him once again while trying to read some important medical research.

-But Ratchet, You need to! This is a chance one in a million! - Orion tried to stand his ground while before mentioned research flew stright at his face.

-NO, I said it already! First Wheeljack and now you. I never espected any decency from that maniac, but from you Orion?! What in Primus name made you want to get involved with such a place. Those parties are a complete debouchery! In fact the only reason why I'm attending such a ridiculous event is becouse it was a demand from work. You shouldn't want to participate in such a thing.-Young doctor didn't at all hide his disgust when he was speaking about the gala.

-Ratchet, I'm telling you this is not about that, I do not care about the event i just.. want to see the person that wrote all those amazing poems and articles. You read them too right? These are works of a genius!!

- And how exactly are you even suppose to recognize them? You don't know how they look like. And most importantantly they're a gladiator!! There's little to no chance for them to even be there and if they will I don't think they be allowed to just talk politics with some random guest!- larger mech exclaimed.

Ratchet looked exhousted. He hasn't slept in a while thanks to one lovely bomber, the gala somehow was supose to waight 1/3 of his final grade and his conjunx was out on some unspecified expediction for Primus knows how long.

- You know what? Let it be, I allow you to go with me, on one condition! For the next 3 chords you leave me alone. No questions about reproduction of insectocons. No covering for your crazy ideas. And absolutely no mentions about this evening to anyone! Got it?!

-Thank you Ratchet!! I promise I won't bother you anymore. You're trully amazing.- Orion was ready to hug his friend if it wasn't for his clear discomfort.

-Why do I feel like this conditon won't keep for long- Ratched mumbled feeling defeated while the archivist celebrated his small victory.

-See you at 8. Do NOT be late! My job depends on it.

...

The stadium was full, there wasn't a single sit that wasn't taken by some fancy mech.

It wasn't completely unusual however Megatron had to admit that it never stoped impressing him in all those years he spend fighting. The idea that so many bots gathered to watch him felt sureal, kinda wished they gathered to hear his speches rather that watch him rip someone spark out but well you can't be picky in those type of situations.

"Dear Femms and Mechs we gathered here today to watch an exhilarating battle between two of Cybertron greatest Champions , Megatronus of Kaon and Victory of Kalis. Who of those two will earn the glory and fame and who will end up in pieces? Only time can tell! Remember it's the last chance to make your bets.~"

The crowd was going wild. Megatron in a meatime looked at the stadium trying to pinpoint any important faces to worry about in the near future.

One that for sure stud out was a red and black mech sitting in it's own loge(/lodge) . They had a small frame, cunning eyes that looked down on him in every possible meaning of the word and probably the most punchable face he has ever seen. They looked pathetic on their own but the amount of guards made them unable to ignore. Luckily this type of mechs rarely were a problem in terms of "sponsoring", always wanting to boost their ego by making sure they the strongest in the room they would always leave him alone, maybe talk some scrap about the greatness of slavery but that was it. That said just in case his flying friend, and to that regard anyone else in the audience might get any wrong ideas Megatron decided to give them his most gruesome and repulsive act. After all this is what they came to Keon for.

Finally after few kliks he was able to face his oponent plate to plate on the big arena of the pits.

As expected based on Megatron research his oponent wasn't anything impressive. His body was covered in all kinds of luxurious gadgets and accesories. Clearly a higher cast. Fighting for fame not survival, winning only becouse of better equipment not skills. That type of mech was what Megatron hated the most.

The moment the match started he made sure to immobilize one of his oponent servos by ripping it off with extreme precision. This type of attack was only possible when the opponent had his guard down does gladiator know he won't be able to redo it no matter how much he tried.

Obliviously the act made the shinier mech furious, rampaging stright at Megatron, almost crushing him in the process if it wasn't for his fast reflexes. Before he had a chance to prepere himself for a next move he was shot with a cannon between his servos.

It was good to know his opponent had at least a bit of combat knowledge, knowing where to shot to entertain the crowd.

Megatron quickly moved from his position avoiding another blow and louding his own cannon. With few moves he was once again helm to helm with the other gladiator, throwing a punch right into his face. ...

_____________________

The fight took quite some time. Mainly to satisfy the audience but also couse Megatron really wanted to ensure nobody in the crowd gets any stupid ideas. He made sure to make himself as unapealing as he can, getting his whole body dirty with energon and diffrent oils spilling out of the other mech while also showing of his big frame to remaind people he was a miner not some classy thing.

The rest of ch 1 doesn't exist

Ch. 2 aka Megasound crumbs

Their lodging was small a and cluttered, diffrent spare parts, garbage finds and data pads scaterred all around leaving little to no space to move. From actually functioning furniture there was a big berth, a boxing bag and a barely working fridge. It was really a lucky find.

-Yo Big M is back! We seen you on the bilboard! It was so cool!!-Rumble and Frienzy as always were runing around and cousing mayhem, destroying anything that they touch.

One of them tried to climb on the gladiator while the other were shaking Ravage awake so she can share their excitment.

-Calm down you two! I got you something- he handed them two cubes of energon.

-Just make sure to absorb all that energy somewhere alse, otherwise this room might not survive.- Two bots stopped listening to him the moment they seen the food but luckily they still know what to do, they greedily took the cubes and sprinted outside with the speed that would made profesional racers jealous.

Without twins the room felt much more spacious, walking trought it he also gave a cube each to Ravage and Laserbeak, petting them lightly as he passed them by.

In the berth laid the owner of the room himself, as always calm looking Soundwave. His wounds seemed to repair pretty well trought he clearly still couldn't move an arm. His smaller frame was curled while the blue mech hold one of the datapads.

He was mad. Megatron know the moment he came into the room. Soundwave might not be expressive but they know each other for so long that it didn't matter. When he was mad he would speak only when it's expected of him and his power field would radiate disatisfaction.

-Listen, I understand you're mad. Fair enough, I would be to if I got beaten like that, I know you wanted to go together this time but this is to much of a risk! - Soundwave was a trully special mech. Where Megatron was nothing more than a miner capable of withstanding bad sytuations, Soundwave was a "Carrier", a bot designed specifically to make and take care of sparklings.

Those type of mechs knew nothing about fighting, they shouldn't have to. Yet here they were. Some stupid high rank wanted a Carrier for his unrealistic sparklings expectations, didn't like the results those threw all of them out. Megatron wasn't really sure how Soundwave was able to survive before coming to Kaon, he don't think he wants to. That said the moment he showed up on the arena was something revolutionary.

Soundwave wasn't just a good fighter, he was a strategic genius! When they first meet the gladiator was starstruck. The carrier was the proof that Megatron needed, that the mechs can be more than what they were made for.

They get along well, trought it took some time to earn Soundwave trust. Only after that Megatron could meet the cassetes, one by one and he enjoyed spending time with all of them. It was something surreal. In a place such brutal and cold as Pits, to have a genuine good relations with other mechs.

The ability to actually have deep political conversation without the other mech looking at you with contempt or pity. Soundwave never judged him, but always had an intresting opinion that let him to improve his thesis. He would always inform him on any mistakes and inaccuracies he made and prized him for any small success. The Carrier especially loved his poetry, something Megatron never expected to be able to share. The blue mech would listen to him for hours and look at him as if the words he spoke were some kind of gospel and not some simple poems.

The only problem Soundwave had was that he was a little bit to.. carefull. He would never let Megatron work on his own acount, always making sure he knows everything that's going on. It was never really suffocating in fact Megatron feel some comfort in knowing someone got his back but for some reason it always got worse when it came to Galas.

The carrier would flip out even at the mention of those events. Gladiator fully understood his disgust especially considering his upbringing however what he did't understand was the fact that the blue mech didn't aply his worries to himself. The only worry he showed in those moments was towards Megatron. Illogical considering that the gray mech was handling it just fine, with little amount of customers and a sturdy build compared to the always cornered Carrier. ..

-We were supose to go together.- The monotone voice of his friend somehow still expressed more emotion than the loudest scream. - Megatron was supose to stay out of trouble. Megatron shouldn't have to dirty himself like that. - the gray mech could see his reflection in the visors of the other.

-I'm sorry.-gladiator wondered for a moment. -I know how stupid it was. You're the only person in here capable enought to stand next to me

That's all i got for now. If it doesnt make sense that's couse none of the scenes are in proper order. Please give opinions it means a lot to me.

[sergle]

Do you think you’d ever be interested in doing a line of semi nude portraits of different bodies? Transfem, trans masc, slim, medium, fat bodies etc? It’s totally cool if you aren’t I just love your art and I would love to see more prints from you perhaps :D

[amywritesthings]

press four for more options. | part two.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 3.5k Summary: After seeing your ex with his new girl at a work party, you take the not-so-smart advice from a friend to call a sex hotline to get over him. Your match? A baritone bossy dom named Levi.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - smut, alternate universe (modern), sex work, phone sex, dirty talk, dom!levi, light dom/sub, guided masturbation, pet names, nipple play, overstimulation, multiple orgasms Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics

part one. / part three. | masterlist

2-5-1-2.

It’s an easy enough combination to remember, being Christmas Day and all.

Pressing 2, 5, and 1 is easy. The final '2' makes you second guess yourself.

You’re not sure why you’re panicking. He’ll pick up.

(It’s literally his job, idiot.)

Fuck it.

Your index finger hits the '2' and the hashtag to finalize the combination.

When you hear the line go dead, you tense every muscle in your body.

No breathing.

No blinking.

Just waiting for that silky, sultry siren song to come over and confirm your bias that it’s the single sexiest voice you’ve ever heard.

—but it’s that automated lady you tried to bypass from the menu.

“Please enter your credit card number, followed by the expiration date—”

“Oh, Goddamn it,” you groan, shouldering the phone to shuffle your purse around.

Eventually after some digging, you find your card before she can continue a second loop of her payment spiel. 

You can’t believe you’re legitimately putting your credit card information out there for anyone to steal.

Yet, if Annie’s been doing this for ages, then it ought to be safe.

Right?

After typing in the necessary numbers and confirming they’re correct, you’re so out of your own head that you don’t even realize the line switches from slight static to smooth nothingness.

“So you finally called back.”

“Shit!”

The buttery smooth greeting — or lack thereof — makes you nearly drop your phone.

You gasp and manage to catch the device just in time to hear a chuckle, graveled and low, on the other end.

“And just as jittery as last night.”

“Levi,” you greet breathlessly, straightening your outfit like he can actually see it.

You swear you hear a smile in his voice.

“Hey, baby.”

Oh sweet Jesus.

“Or do you prefer it when I call you Scarlet?”

You prefer literally anything he’ll give you, is what you want to say back, but you don’t want to automatically appear as though you’re ready to be walked like a dog at minute one.

“I’m… fine with ‘baby’,” you confess after a beat, focusing on the swirl of the marble counter below you just to dissociate to his voice.

“Thought so,” he arrogantly states before making this grunting noise, like he’s rolling his body in a chair to get more comfortable. “Are we talking again?"

"Is that alright?"

"You know it is." Levi's voice lifts, softer now. "And how's your Saturday so far?”

“Very mundane and super lackluster,” you admit. “I’m sure you’ve had a much more interesting day than me.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he replies without skipping a beat.

“No?” you ask with a smirk. “I’d say getting people off with the sound of your voice makes for a pretty interesting job.”

“Who said it’s only just my voice?”

Son of a bitch.

The phone shifts from your right shoulder to your left.

“It isn’t?”

He makes a noncommittal hum, and it runs straight to your core. “That's confidential, sweet Scarlet."

"Boo," you joke. "You're no fun."

"You haven't seen me at my fun yet," he corrects. "Speaking of fun: how are you not hungover?"

“The power of heavy tylenol and H2O? Which... I have to apologize that."

"For what?"

"Uh, I pretty much poured my heart and soul out to you last night.”

He chuckles. "I didn't mind it. Feeling any better about that situation?”

“I haven’t really thought about it since last night, so you’re already a miracle worker.”

"Oh?"

"Yeah, no joke."

“Huh." He clicks his tongue. "And what have you been thinking about?”

You say it without realizing you’ve said it out loud:

“You.”

Both ends of the phone go silent.

Your eyes widen, wanting nothing more than to take a pan out of one of the cabinets to bash your head in with anguish. 

“In, like, an interested sense.”

Shit, that isn’t much better.

“An… interested sense,” he repeats, slower this time. His vowels dip deep.

“Oh no,” you bemoan. “Okay. Let me restart: I mean it in like a — you were on my mind? Today, sort of way. So I called.”

“...uh-huh.”

“Because the call ended so quickly!” you add. “I didn’t think it was going to end so abruptly at the fifteen minute mark, but I wasn’t done talking to you, so I called again.”

“You’re shit at asserting yourself, aren’t you?”

His words make you blink twice.

“Huh?”

“You don’t like making decisions or having to explain things,” he replies without judgment. “You think if you want something, then it makes you selfish.”

Ouch.

“Well, when you put it like that,” you reply in a bitter, yet lifted tone of surprise. 

You hear a noise on the other end. A ‘tch’ if you can make it out.

“Sorry," he apologizes. "Too far?’

“No! Too real,” you admit with a small laugh. “And I’m sure you don’t want to play analyst-therapist tonight, so.”

“I’m here to do anything you want,” he reminds, syrup-y sweet. 

“Anything?”

“Mostly anything,” he adds, and there’s a tiny chuckle bubbling between the words that makes your heart flutter. “Can’t hold a tune worth a damn and I don’t know how to speak some languages, so there are limitations.”

You laugh despite yourself, feeling your stress melt.

Then—

A small groan, like his head's tilting backwards. “Damn, I like hearing that.”

You turn away from your kitchen counter, subconsciously padding to your bedroom. “Hearing what?”

“Your laugh,” he explains. “It’s sweet.”

“Sweet?”

“Very.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” you say, rolling your eyes playfully.

Dark hair. Gray-ish blue eyes. Sharp nose. High cheekbones.

Fit.

When your eyes flicker to your own bed, you try to picture a version of him waiting there.

He could be leaning back on his elbow, button-down shirt splayed open like a newly-peeled present.

Maybe his legs are parted.

Maybe he stares at you like you’re all he could ever want.

His voice cuts through the fantasy, causing your breath to catch.

“What do you want, baby?”

Then it drops an octave lower.

“...c’mon, be selfish for once.”

For once.

Like he can read your soul through a damn cell phone.

But Levi is right — your entire short-lived relationship with Porco and just about any other man before him has been through a small lens. Fitting in the middle seat just to never make any noise. To bend with the curve rather than against it to create your own path.

It’s just a sex hotline, but for some reason, his words resonate.

Be selfish.

Wasn’t that the point of calling in the first place?

“Anything?” you repeat a second time, much softer.

Levi shuffles on the other line then exhales like he’s getting comfortable.

“What do you need?” he asks, tone low and words slower. 

Purposeful. 

“What do you want?”

You close your eyes, drawing in a slow, steady inhale.

Are you seriously doing this?

No more overthinking.

“Should I... get comfortable?” you ask, too afraid to say what it is that you want.

What you’re about to do.

“Mm, you near a couch or a bed?”

“A bed.”

“Don’t get on it yet,” he orders, “but walk towards it. Bend over it.”

Jesus Christ.

“Bend over it?” you ask with a shaky breath of disbelief.

“Yeah,” he confirms. “You’re home from a long day. I’m home from a long day. All you’ve wanted all day is to have someone tell you what to do, right?”

As much as your face feels like it's on fire, you slowly walk to your bed and put the phone down between your splayed palms.

You press the speaker option to ‘on’, and feel a wave of arousal hit your gut when you hear him sigh through the phone.

“I thought you said you wanted me to be selfish,” you remind, bending over your bed.

“You’re allowing me to take charge,” he retorts with little hesitation. “You’re letting me take care of you the way you always should’ve been taken care of. Your ex-boyfriend has no fucking clue what he’s missed out on.”

You exhale, trying to keep it together.

“Levi—”

“I’m right here, baby,” he huskily promises. “Right here. Not leaving you.”

You feel ridiculous.

You’re so turned on it’s almost laughable.

“You ready to let me take control?” he eventually asks, and you nod like he can see you.

“Yeah, I’m— I think so.”

“I like using a red-yellow-green light system,” Levi hums. “Red’s a hard stop. Yellow is negotiating, a slow down to check in. Green means you’re in.” He pauses, and you lean down closer to your phone, bending further. “Color?”

Even on speaker, his voice rips straight through you.

“Green,” you decide, blurting before your brain can catch up.

“Good girl.”

You’re not going to survive this.

“Are your lights off?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” he decides. “I want you to crawl slowly onto the bed now. Can you do that for me?” 

Your hand slides obediently, passing over the phone as you begin to rest one knee on the mattress. It dips with give. 

“All the way up to your pillows, then you can lay on your back — but keep your eyes closed.”

“Okay.”

Eventually you drag your phone with you as you crawl to the headboard of your bed, only to then slowly turn around and drop to your back.

“Are your eyes closed?”

With the phone speaker right at your ear, it almost lends itself to the fantasy of him hovering above you.

His lips dip at the edge of your ear, the static lost to you.

“Yes,” you exhale, relaxing into the bed.

“Good. You’re doing so good for me already, and we’ve barely started.” He pauses, shifting once more. “What’re you wearing, baby?”

“Something so not sexy,” you joke, and it earns a breathy laugh from him.

“Bet you can make anything sexy,” he tells you, and it shoots straight to your lower belly.

“How would you know?” you ask, your hand already reaches for the hem of your shirt. “You’ve never even seen me.”

“No, but I hear you, and it’s fucking delicious.”

Your breath hitches, and you can hear it; the smile in his voice.

“Take everything off, except your underwear.”

“Bra, too?”

“Only if you’re comfortable,” he tells you, and it’s much less breathy. It’s certain, like he wants to check in — make sure you’re just as into it as he sounds. “Would you rather I help you take that off?”

Your brain blanks.

Slowly you push your jeans off first, kicking them to some unknown corner.

Then you rise, ripping your t-shirt off of your body, until you’re sitting in your mismatched bra and panties.

“How would you take it off of me?” you boldly ask, though you can’t quite get rid of the shake of anticipation in your voice.

“Fuck, I’d love to,” he grunts, and your face burns. “I’d be so busy pressing small, slow kisses to your neck. Reach up and touch your neck for me. Feel how I’d kiss it.”

You do.

As surprised as anyone else, you reach up and press your fingers against small parts of your neck, earning him a tiny gasp and noise of want.

“Dragging down to your throat.”

You press two gentle fingers to your skin again, following his path, before slamming your thighs together to try and relieve the heat between your legs.

“My finger would just… slip, right under the right strap of your bra.”

Your fingers dance across your collarbone, slipping your middle finger just under the delicate strap to mirror.

With your eyes closed, the motions lend to an almost out-of-body experience.

Like your hand trailing down your body isn’t yours; it’s his.

You’re his, right now.

“Is this okay?” he whispers, and you nods furiously.

“Very.”

“Good. Let me pull the other one down. I wanna see how pretty my girl is.”

The praises, the way he so easily speaks this way, has you all sorts of flustered.

Slowly you raise your other hand to pull down the strap, and whimper when you tug down as far as you can.

Your breasts spill out over the cup, allowing your hardened nipples to greet the night air.

“Can I touch you?”

The words almost make you open your eyes, as if you’ll see this mystery man hovering over you.

You know he's not here.

You wish he were right here.

“Yes.”

“How do you like to be touched, baby? Show me.”

“Levi,” you whine, allowing your shaky hands to run along your breasts.

You’re afraid, you’re exhilarated, but when you finally pinch the little buds and roll them between your fingers, you’re too far gone to care.

“Fuck—”

“Feels good, huh?” Levi’s own breathy voice interrupts your curse. “You look so beautiful like this. Letting me play with you— God, I could do this for hours—”

“Want you to.”

You don’t even recognize your own breathy tone. 

Hell, you only hear him.

You only feel him.

“Need more,” you pant, and he hums with amusement.

“No,” he replies, “think I’m gonna play with you a little more right here for now.”

You accidentally pinch your nipples, harder, like he’s teaching you a lesson.

“Levi.”

“What, is my girl getting impatient?”

His girl.

You don’t even know him, but you’d sure as hell like to be.

(How easy is it, for you to fall so fast from your judgmental high horse when Annie first slipped you this number — only for you to be moaning on your bed, hands groping and kneading your breasts, for a man you didn’t know?)

“Y-You said,” you stammer, “to be selfish, and I want—”

“Shh, I’m gonna take good care of you, okay?” Levi interrupts on the other end. “But you have to do something for me, too.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t want you holding back on me. No shyness. No second guesses. I want you, I want to hear what I do to you. Is that understood?”

You can’t take it.

Your one hand leaves your chest to skim down to your belly, unable to wait any longer.

“I want you to touch me,” you hiccup.

“Yeah?”

His voice wavers in the response before it strengthens. Demands.

“I want those panties gone first. Take them off and spread your knees. Feet flat on the bed.”

No need to be told twice; you hastily pull your panties down your hips, your knees, until they pool at one of your ankles.

Your knees knock together before spreading, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“I want to touch you, too, baby.” Levi swallows, coating his throat. “How wet are you for me?”

Fingertips run past your lower belly to touch the apex of your thighs, gasping with surprise and relief when you feel that familiar electricity.

“Really fucking wet,” you admit.

The groan he emits is delicious. “Fuck.”

For a moment, you feel completely out of your depth. 

This is meant to be a sex hotline, but there are lines blurred in your mind. Something about the sheer image of him leaning back into his chair, fucking a fistful of his cock while he has a phone operator headset against his ear, only turns you on that much more.

“If we had time, I’d spend all night memorizing what you taste like. What you feel like. How you let go — for me, only for me.”

“Only for you,” you promise, unable to stop yourself from drawing circles over your clit.

You moan, head bent back against your pillow.

“Fuck, you’re touching yourself, aren’t you?” he asks, and his voice seems less controlled now. It’s got a hint of raggedness, and it only quickens your pace. “You feel amazing, you know that? Such a pretty pussy, all spread and wet for me—”

“Shit, Jesus, Levi,” you gasp, knowing that you’re not going to last long.  You’re too wound up from the night before. “If you keep talking like that—”

“What, are you gonna come for me?” Amusement tickles the question. “Oh, you can come for me, baby, but I’m gonna need at least two from you tonight.”

Your fingers press a little harder to your clit, and you keen. 

“Wh– At least?”

“As if I’d ever be satisfied with only one,” he murmurs. “No, I wanna watch you come apart. Feel it on my fingers with those cute little contrac—”

That’s it.

You moan louder than you expected, the taut bowstring suddenly snapped in half. 

You arch off the bed, relentlessly rubbing your fingers against your body to ride out the insane orgasm that you — that Levi has given you.

Even if you’re blissed out, you hear it on the receiving end:

“That’s it. That’s my girl. Fuck, you sound amazing. I know it’s gonna be tough, but keep going for me, okay? Don’t stop.”

“It’s sen– ha, sensitive!” you whimper, wanting to stop your hand.

“Mm-mm, you said you’d be good. Be selfish, baby. Give me two.”

“But Levi!”

Everything is on overdrive.

Your hand; your body; your mind.

You imagine he’s hovering over you, working you with his hand with a near-sadistic relentlessness.

As you battle your own refractory period, your toes curl, teeth clenched.

You want to be good.

You want to be so good.

And somewhere in that overwhelming intensity, you feel it: the ebb and flow of pleasure returning, crawling through your veins and forcing you to not give up.

To give this to him.

Then you hear it: panting.

As if he’s getting off to this himself. Your eyes snap open, wide, to an empty room. 

When your cheek turns to the phone, you confirm that’s what you hear:

Ragged breaths, albeit softly, with added grunts of control. 

Like he’s holding back.

Something about that image of him in a chair, his hand relentlessly pumping his cock in time with your hand, your whimpers and moans, does damage.

“I need— mm— want— please.”

“I’m right here, baby,” Levi promises, though his voice is weaker. You can even hear him swallow again. “Right fucking here, wanna hear you cum so bad.”

Maybe you really were pent up enough for two, because soon you’re slipping — falling — into that blissful nothingness while your body clenches on itself, clit fluttering from a second release.

It’s less intense, but that doesn’t make it any less good.

Everything throbs in your body as you come down, panting, with a slight sheen of sweat on your skin.

You turn to your phone, totally gone in the bliss of the aftermath.

Levi has grown silent as well; only light puffs of air come through the speaker now.

“Feeling better?” Levi asks with a hint of pride in his voice.

“Shut up,” you answer with a gentle laugh of your own. “I’m… shit. I guess that’s why they pay you the big bucks.”

That statement gets Levi to laugh, and your heart feels twice as full.

“That’s one way of pillow talk, I guess.”

The man pauses.

“Are you alright?”

As if he’s truly concerned, worried about your wellbeing.

You don’t allow yourself to fall for it, not completely.

This is his job — even if it felt so real, in the moment.

“Much better,” you promise, smiling to yourself.

“Happy to help,” he hums, his voice returning to that stormy swirl of seduction and softness.

The sobering reality of an empty bedroom should deter you, but all you can do is smile.

(When is the last time you genuinely felt giddy? Excited? Satisfied?)

“Hey, Levi,” you murmur eventually, slowly sitting up to unhook your bra and toss it away. No need to keep it on.

“Yeah, baby?”

You’ll never get over the way he sounds when he calls you that.

It’s permanently stuck to your frontal lobe, obscuring any other logic or reality.

“Am I still allowed to call?”

“Allowed?”

“Yeah, even though we…”

“What, you think you get one experience and your membership is up?”

Levi chuckles, shifting in his seat — or bed — or wherever he is.

“You can call me anytime you want.”

“Any?”

“Between company hours, yeah.”

“Even to talk?”

“Of course,” he answers, softer this time. “Always to talk. Go get some rest.”

“Mm,” you mumble, turning on your side as exhaustion takes over. “I will, but only because I want to and I’m being selfish.”

It surprises you to hear him laugh again, but it’s louder now.

More prominent. 

As if he genuinely enjoyed your joke.

Get your head out of the clouds, girl, is what you want to say to yourself, but you can’t be bothered to care.

“Good. You earned it.”

A noise emits from your tired throat to acknowledge him, too sleepy to formulate a real sentence.

Then his voice drops to a whisper, for your ears and your ears alone.

“Goodnight, baby.”

You press the ‘end call’ button and fall into the deepest sleep you’ve had all year.

.

Author's Note:

Thank you for reading part two of P4! This is insane. I still cannot believe the feedback I got in part one. Seriously, you all made my June. I hope this next part has satisfied your curiosity of how Levi would be a hotline operator.

Thank you for likes, and even more love to those who choose to reblog this to help spread the word of this series or reply in the comments. ilu xo

[mykmi]

not that busy

summary: doing homework together gone wrong genre: suggestive, drabble pairing: bf!student!beomgyu x gn!student!reader warnings: none ig ??? tell me if there are any; english isn't my first language, sorry for any mistakes!! a/n: the beginning was the dream that i had a long time ago with beomgyu, so i felt the need to write it down :))))

“beom?”

you were writing your essay for english classes, sitting on beomgyu's bed with your laptop. looking up at your boyfriend, you pouted. he did not hear you as he was too focused on his philosophy homework.

you never really liked this subject because of how abstract it was, and professor never even checked the homework, therefore there was no point in doing it. but beomgyu seemed to be actually interested in philosophy and thought it was important to do tasks.

sometimes it even annoyed you how he was such a good student without trying that much. and to think that's the only subject you had together, you've wondered how good he was in other ones.

“okay..” beom was busy and you knew, when he's concentrated it's almost meaningless to try to get his attention. after a few minutes, when he clicked to close the windows on a computer and adjusted his glasses, you repeated:

“beom?” he turned to you, watching you with kinda sad eyes.

“sorry, you called me?”

“i just wanted to ask about the essay, but i already figured it out”

“sorryy, i told you it's a bad idea to do homework together” he laughed, crawling on a bed next to you.

“i know, i just wanted to spend some time together..” you pouted quietly. beomgyu layed his head on your shoulder as you were still typing.

“we still have time, pretty” he gently caressed the skin on your arm. “you're literally staying here for the night”

“yeah, i know” you kept on going back to the research page to not forget any details to mention. by a few minutes of you typing the body part of the essay, gyu left a couple of pecks on your shoulder, smiling slyly. after no reaction, another and longer one followed, this time on your neck.

“it tickles” you let out a small giggle, slipping away from yet another kiss. beomgyu caught your hand with a grin and pulled you right back to him, catching you off guard. you looked at him surprised as he lowered his gaze to your lips. he watched your face just inches away from his.

“i haven't finished my essay tho” you whispered, unsatisfied. gyu slightly rolled his eyes through glasses, still grinning at you.

“do you think it'll stop me?” and the next second he smashed his lips onto yours, taking your breath away quite literally. the vanilla scent of his shower gel, his glasses rubbing against your cheeks and the sensation of his plush, soft lips being so rough on yours gave you butterflies and some warm feeling a little lower your stomach. his one hand cupped your face, the other one placed itself on your waist. all of the information for an essay flew right out of your head because you couldn't think about anything else than beomgyu kissing you so good and messily.

“wait, let me-” you tried to push your boyfriend away so you could just put the laptop away from your legs. instead of stopping, gyu turned your face back to him, deepened the kiss, now using his tongue in your mouth as he slammed your laptop shut and carefully threw it far away on the bed.

beomgyu's lips tasted like the strawberry ice cream you ate an hour ago with him, and his fingers going down to the hem of your shorts, squeezing your thigh only made you whine a bit into his mouth. you could feel gyu smiling at the sounds you made because of him, making him super proud and all you could is to playfully slap his arm in return.

“you were busy all this time-” you sighed between the kisses, holding onto beomgyu's shoulders. he took his glasses off and threw them in the same direction as the laptop. “it's not fair”

“well now i'm busy with you” he laughed while his hands grabbed your ass, pulling you onto his lap. “isn't it what you wanted?”

[technically-a-kiwi]

And so the cosmic AU story continues, this time focusing on the characters

So like I said on previous post, Peppino and The Noise are one of the many cosmic duos of the cosmic realm and have the immense responsability of watching over several universes, of course thankfully watching over universes isn't a full time job and both have a part time job in the cosmic realm.

Peppino continues his job as a pizzamaker, this time being completly free of debt and only doing it out of passion.

Technically, cosmic entities don't fuel from food so eating is not nececary .But they don't care, they love Peppino's pizzas and Peppino loves making pizzas so everybody wins

As for The Noise, he remains being a TV host, exept due to now being a cosmic entity, his chanel is now only broadcasted in the cosmic realm, on top of not being able to broadcast outside the cosmic realm, he isn't allowed to diverge into any other type of media like movies, comic series etc, to make sure his image doesn't slip pass the cosmic realm. And so by being a TV host that exclusively broadcasts in the cosmic realm, The Noise is litteraly the only source of entertainment you could possibly find in the entire realm.

If you dare say outloud that you dislike his show, The Noise will make sure you'll have an "actual reason" for you to dislike his show, if you know what I mean

Got nothin much to say now... Hum... Oh ! Yeah ! I haven't quite developed on our cosmic duo nor how they are as a cosmic entity have I ? Well better late then never right x) ?

For starters, Peppino.

As a cosmic entity, Peppino is (surprisingly) quite peaceful and mostly stays in his pizzeria in the cosmic realm, only interacting with his clients and occasionaly with Gustavo.

When first turning into a cosmic entity, it screwed him up quite a lot, not only did he have to process his actual death, he also had to process being in a whole new body with immense powers and brand new responsibilities he never asked for. This gave him a whole existencial crisis making him loose most of his sanity and making him into an even bigger lunatic then usual, thankfully overtime he reached to other cosmic entities who then helped him overcome his dread, slowly getting better control over his stress and bipolarity allowing to partially regain a sense of control and stability (yeah I know it's a little edgy but hey the whole AU itself is far-fetched so who cares at this point). Now he enjoys just taking things slow and appreciate the little things, such as making pizzas for others, taking naps in some deserted pastures and stargazing on top of his roof. He still has a long way to go to fully regain his sanity and stability, but the cosmic court considers his state is good enough to be handled the fate of several universes.

During his shift as a cosmic duo. Peppino is quite efficient, miraculously despite his stress and instability he always gets the job done, he does make mistakes here and there such as not being able to keep a low-profile at all or purposly exposing himself to others which is something cosmic entities must avoid at all cost.

Now bring The Noise

As a cosmic entity, The Noise is a freaking menace, fully embracing his new title of cosmic entity to mess up with people around the multiverse, using his new powers to satisfy his urge of being the ultimate prankster, one might say he his the Loki of the cosmic realm. He mostly gets away with anything he does due to the cosmic court being a huge fan of his show (much to every other cosmic entities displeasure).

When first turning into a cosmic entity, The Noise was confused on why he respawn with such a different look. As soon as he learned he had the powers of a cosmic entity, The Noise started pranking people around the multiverse, he seaked the title of ultimate prankster and for that neaded notoriety, thus The Noise's Nebula Show was born ! As time went on his channel became less of a prank channel and more of an entertaining channel. The Noise started doing other stuff on the side out of curiosity which he found quite pleasant and directly incorporated those things in his channel,slowly becoming more diversed and interesting, using his maniac and cocky nature to become the most charismatic, lively (and only) TV host the cosmic realm has ever seen. Due to The Noise originating from the same universe as cosmic Peppino, they got paired up to become a cosmic duo, much to The Noise's displeasure, it was hard enough to bear the existance of that potato looking head when he was in the same room as him, and now he has to WORK WITH HIM ? He knew such pairing would ultimatly lead to disaster, but he did it anyway, after all he's not gonna say no to having the front sit at seing Peppino's misery and struggles.

During his shift as a cosmic duo. The Noise barely does anything, he usualy stays in the back while smoking a cigar and lets Peppino do the job, he's not going to do any kind of rescuing, that would deteriorate his status of ultimate prankster! In the rare cases where his presence is absolutly needed, he solve the problem in the most ridiculous or incovinente way possible, usualy rushing it, he doesn't really care about others safety, as long as he get's the job done that's all that matters to him.

And here it is y'all ! Truly sorry if my sentences makes no sense whatsoever, I did this post very late at night like an idiot and I'm running out of water and motivation x)

Like the last post if you have any kind of question don't hesitate to ask me I'll be glad to answer all of them.

Now I'll give u some art I didn't know where to put in the post, enjoy

[allieslittlewritings]

hii! would you write a spencer reid x daughter! or sister! reader where she just graduated high school and has a lot of mixed emotions, like, she’s relieved that it’s over but sad that she may not see her friends anymore or as much as she did?

thank you sm 💗

Graduation Blues

Spencer Reid x daughter!reader

Word Count: ~1.2k

Warnings: None :)

A/n: this was my first time writing a request. I hope I did okay and I hope you like it <3

The front door creaked open as you stepped inside. The familiar warmth your home held was comforting against the slight chill you felt from the cold weather outside. From a distance you could hear the sound of your best friend's car as she drove away after dropping off. Though you enjoyed spending an eventful day with your friends, there was also a hint of relief that came with being home.

Your removed graduation cap and gown hung over your arm. You looked down at it and felt that same feeling you had felt on-and-off all day. If there existed a fitting word to describe it, you didn't know what it was. It felt almost like anxiety and confusion, but that wasn't quite it. In racking your brain to try and reach an actual conclusion, you failed to notice Spencer exiting the kitchen and warmly greeting you.

"Hi, sweetheart. Did you have fun?" He pulled the sleeves of his shirt down, his hands slightly damp from washing dishes.

Absent-mindedly you hummed in agreement and started taking off your shoes. Spencer wasn't big on wearing "outside shoes" inside, citing how much bacteria you could unknowingly step into your home.

You missed the analytical look on his face. "You okay?"

Being both a profiler and an attentive parent, he could always tell immediately when something about you seemed even remotely off or wrong. Something as small as sighing in smaller intervals than usual was always noticed by him.

"Do I not seem okay?" you tried your best to make it sound like a joke. As if you were so obviously okay there would be no reason to doubt it.

Spencer smiled a little sadly, "Uh, no, not really." He hesitated for a second. "It took you about two seconds longer than usual to answer me. And even then you didn't actually say anything. I'd expect you to be so excited you wouldn't even bother taking off your shoes or pausing by the door. You haven't really looked at me since you got here." He tilted his head as he observed your body language.

You didn't say anything in return and instead just focused on hanging up your coat, turning your face away from your dad.

With a gentler voice Spencer spoke again. "I made mac and cheese if you're hungry, I wasn't sure if you'd eat while you were out so, I figured it was better to just make it."

Still not a word left your mouth. Luckily for you, Spencer was practically just as good at interpreting silence as speech.

"Okay, why don't I go get us some food? We can eat, and then, only if you want, you can talk to me about whatever is going on. Does that sound good?"

"Yeah," you said softly.

Spencer looked at you for a moment longer and then went to the kitchen to get you two food.

You followed him to the kitchen and got plates and forks for the two of you, setting them by your usual seats around the dining table.

Spencer did most of the talking while you ate. He told you about the plot of his latest read, what he liked about it and the miniscule inaccuracies that didn't sit right with him.

His rambling was a comforting distraction from your thoughts for a while.

Spencer swallowed his last bite of food and took a sip of water. "Can you tell me what's wrong now?"

Silence filled the apartment for a minute while you gathered your thoughts.

"When you graduated high school, did you miss it afterwards?" you asked.

Spencer laughed awkwardly, "No, not at all. I was very glad it was over, but I didn't have the type of high school experience you did. My graduation day was mostly spent trying to convince your grandmother the shadow outside her bedroom window wasn't a human being."

He paused and changed his tone to a softer one before continuing. "But if that's what's bothering you, I think I understand. You've spent years going to that same building, with more or less the same people. The same teachers and classmates. Now that that's ending, it's maybe a little harder to deal with than you thought."

"I was so focused on studying and finally being done with all my exams that I didn't even really think about it until today." Your voice got more choked up as you continued. "Only one of my friends is going to college in the same state I am. We're all going to be busy and every year we'll see each other less and less."

Spencer nodded as he listened to you.

"You've gotten so used to seeing them almost every day and going from that to seeing them a few times a year is a big change," he thought out loud. "Sweetheart, I know how much you care about your friends, how much you've nurtured your relationships with them, and that won't change."

The look of hesitation on your face remained.

"Regardless of where all of you go, or how frequently you hang out, you'll still have all of the memories you've made. The experiences you've had together over the years aren't going anywhere."

"Only about 5% of people remain friends after high school," you said quietly.

"That's still approximately four hundred million people, sweetheart." He reached an arm forward to wipe one of the stray tears rolling down your cheek and then gently tilted your face up. "You know, the odds of you existing are almost four hundred million times less than that. The odds of you and your friends existing at the same time? Even less. A statistic you found on Google doesn't define your personal relationships."

"That doesn't help very much," you whispered honestly.

"Unfortunately, I don't think anything I tell you right now will truly help. I can't promise you that you'll still be as close with your friends in twenty years as you are now, but I can promise you that it'll all work out exactly how it's supposed to." He stood up and walked around the table to where you sat.

"Now, why don't we go make hot chocolate and eat your graduation cake?" He held a hand out for you to take.

"You made me a cake?" you frowned, taking his hand.

"I was going to, Aunt Penelope beat me to it," Spencer sheepishly admitted, pulling you up from your chair.

He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and slowly pulled you into a hug. "I'm sorry I don't always have a very helpful answer or solution to your problems, but please don't ever think just because you grow up you have to stop coming to me when you don't feel well."

"I won't," you mumbled into his chest.

You went to the kitchen with your dad. While he made your hot chocolate, you started to tell him about the happy aspects of your day. As you thought about your day—hearing your friends and family cheer when you accepted your diploma on stage, laughing with your friends while you all reflected on the last few years, the new inside jokes that transpired—a warmth spread in your chest. Whatever happened in the future, you'd keep all your memories safely tucked away in your heart, and think of them fondly.

[spaceorphan18]

The Rogue and Gambit Project: Omega Red (X-Men #5-7)

Okay, so neither Rogue or Gambit are chilling on the cover - but at least they get to be in the little Marvel logo!

This arc was started in #4 and dragged out for another three issues. And it's very Wolverine focused. I don't really care that much for Wolverine's backstory, and honestly, it doesn't matter that much, but there are some juicy tidbits to pick out of the rest of the arc.

On we go with Omega Red....

X-Men #5

When we last saw them, Rogue and Gambit were taken prisoner and look! They're being transported together. How cute to see their names together, lol!

X-Men #5

Gambit with the literal tricks up his sleeve! Again, I had forgotten how this early work makes him look so cool. Also - I feel like it's time, again, to make the obligatory comment about how Rogue and Gambit end up in chains together. This will be a common thread throughout their romance together.

X-Men #5

I've always loved badass Rogue. Her dress is torn to shreds, her shoes are gone, they've ruined her first real date. She's about to bring it.

X-Men #5

I don't really have a whole lot of commentary other than - how hot do they look just being on the same panel together? While I do have some qualms about Jim Lee's art (Psylocke, ooff...) they look so good here. The story isn't as important, they've evade capture for the time being. ...that's about it.

X-Men #5

I kind of love these double spreads of the full team. You get so many personalities and so many dynamics and we just don't see a lot of it anymore -- doesn't help that there are a million X-Men these days. A lot of this is just moving plot forward -- Blue Team going to find Wolverine (and Omega Red) while the Gold Team are going to go on their own adventures. Not much to comment on - but I do like that they're consistently putting Rogue and Gambit near each other.

X-Men #5

Just another action shot of the two of them together at the end of this particular issue.

I guess I'll take a moment to talk about the subplot of these issues being the return of Dazzler and Longshot. There's no real connection there, other than it's going on, and I'll have to talk about it in a about a half dozen issues or so.

X-Men #6

More action shenanigans! Also, Gambit being sassy with the villains, something I do appreciate about him.

X-Men #6

Alright, so I gotta talk about this panel for a moment. Time to address something that happens a lot in comics, and Jim Lee is particularly bad about it. It's the whole women having to be overly sexualized while fighting (dying/being in pain/etc). I'm not saying the male characters aren't overly done either, but the women in comics often are very much portrayed for the male gaze and sometimes it feels a lot more gratuitous than not.

This is the classic tits and ass shot, where women in comics are contorted in an unnatural way so they can show off their bodies so they can look hot to the male reader. And yeah, it's annoying. I don't particularly like it. I clearly won't be talking about it every time it happens, but I do think Rogue gets over sexualized /a lot/ and it is worth talking about. You can have a character be sexy - and that is fine. And yes, I realize the nature of comics in general is to be unrealistic in all body types. But I still think there's some worth acknowledging it, and commenting that in some ways, we have come a long way with comics art and in some ways we haven't. It's a worthwhile conversation to have.

X-Men #6

Alright, back to more fun things. Gambit is kind of knocked out at the moment, and we have the cute moment of Rogue calling him 'Loverbayou'.

And also kind of out of nowhere, Psylocke reminds Rogue (and the audience) that Gambit is still a relatively new character. This is kind of planting the seeds for a couple of things -- for one, Sabretooth is gonna show up and being really cryptic about something. For two, Bishop is gonna show up and be really cryptic about something. For three, Belladonna is going to show up and be rather blunt about something.

X-Men #6

Hey, look, they're strung up next to each other again! Take a shot! ;)

X-Men #6

So, this is arguably the most important sequence in these entire there issues, and it's mostly set up for what's coming down the road.

First of all -- Sabretooth mentions that Gambit is 'workin' the side of the angels'. It's an interesting statement meant to set up that maybe Gambit has some skeletons in his closet he isn't so proud of.

I'm not sure if this is set up for his connection with the marauders, or the Genevieve nonsense, or the X-Traitor stuff Bishop is going to bring or if they just want to dangle a thread and see where it goes. But Gambit's got a past, and we're gonna find some stuff out... just not in this arc.

Secondly, two things strike me as particularly funny here -- the fact that Gambit - a known smoker - is talking about the consequences of second hand smoke is just ridiculous, and the fact that Sabretooth calls his blood spicy. Which, I mean, that's gross. But also hilarious.

X-Men #6

Gambit continues to be his sassy, sarcastic self. What we don't know at the moment is that Gambit did not grow up with a mother. It just adds an interesting layer onto this comment.

X-Men #7

Alright, so after a bunch of Wolverine related nonsense, and after the longwinded Dazzler/Longshot subplot, our heroes are finally getting rescued... By Sabretooth? Um, sure. It really doesn't matter. Unless you're a huge Wolverine fan, then maybe go back and catch up, but this plot just isn't relevant here.

Rogue and Gambit are still hanging around here, though. That's still fun!

X-Men #7

Not much to say - I just like the action/hero shot.

X-Men #7

Another action sequence where Rogue and Gambit get to be badasses together! Rogue is so sassy here. I really appreciate her.

Anyway - they save Wolverine from Omega Red and Fenris! Whoo!

X-Men #7

...and that's really it! We end our arc with Rogue and Gambit standing next to each other.

Can't say this was the most exciting arc we get, but at least they get some nice action sequences and nearly all of their appearances are next to each other. There is this kind of underlying vibe that they're kind of a pair now, despite the fact that the date and anything from issue #4 was not commented on.

Well, it will be... Buckle up kids, because we're for a whole lot of fun in X-Men #8. ;)

[sharklovingaquarist]

Ok guys so this is gonna be a long one but Im going to talk about

Male apathy during pregnancy and post partum

Post partum mental distress

How the medical system fails women

How men should do their part

So I just saw a post by a man talking about how men downplay the process of reproduction, and yeah, duh - BUT I've come to a conclusion. There are two types of expectant/new father in this world: the type that treats his wife like a toy or the type that treats his wife like a cute pet and claps for her from the sidelines. "Yeah babe ur so strong" while not doing shit. So in this post, the guy is like "errrrr fellow males, did you know that the nutrients actually come from your wife's body?!?!" Like how is that not common knowledge? The uterus doesn't have little claw arms building a fetus. An embryo is created by a male and female, and that embryo attaches to the uterus and LEECHES from the female bloodstream.

He then he goes on to talk about how much blood we can lose during vaginal birth and c-sections, and Imma just say here and now that the medical system sucks ass. Yeah, birth sucks. Pregnancy sucks. But I kinda hate how people pass of a lot of the pain as a fact of life. The fact is that the medical system is vastly male, and males who put their poorly hidden fetishes into practices (I did veterinary science in highschool, and it was even prevalent there... vaginal speculums and artificial insem- 🤢) I'm sure we've all heard humans should stand to deliver a child. The high death statistic for women in childbirth (also explained by more black women dying than white), the lack of knowledge on the female body, and the priority of babies over women all tells me one thing: Birth is certainly painful, but it may be more dangerous than it should be. My honest opinion is that death rates exploded once men infiltrated our care due to their view of us as a vessel. Maybe if the medical system focused on helping us rather than letting a fetus escape its "flesh box", then we'd be somewhere.

And finally... he talked about post partum mental health... so I've been wanting to talk about this. It has recently become noticeable to me that human females have a hard time mentally after the birth of children meanwhile most animal females don't. Sure, there are cases where animals abandon offspring, but I chalk that up to not being prepared to care for offspring. Nature usually prioritizes an adult over a newborn. Also the abandonment of offspring is something I only really hear about in domesticated animals (and animals in zoos so environmental distress or lack of knowledge), of whom we have fucked over in so many ways through selective breeding. Shit even domestic bettas and angelfish, who are usually good parents, have this issue in domestication. But why is it that other animals don't have nearly as many post partum issues as humans. I'll say it, I believe post partum mental distress is largely due to societal dynamics. Sure, hormones are off, but the society we live in only fuels this. It's like when you're on your period. You feel off but it's more a loss of tolerance. The rise in estrogen near and after birth can cause you to already be a bit unbalanced, but let's add some situations onto it. You're going to be the primary caretaker because of modern male incompetence, then you're going to lose sleep which causes more instability, then you're expected to still cook and clean, and men in most countries don't get paternity (ohhhh I wanna tell yall a story about that so baddddd... its in the comments if ur up for it) so youre left alone with a screaming child while trying to heal and getting no sleep and probably not seeing the sun because youre busy and thats a major mood stabilizer (as someone with a mood disorder) all for the father to come home and play with the infant and pass it right back to you. And we haven't even gotten into the culture surrounding it. Women are expected to put on a loving maternal persona while fathers remain the same. For men being a father is prideful and gives you all these positive characteristics like strength... but for mothers your mind is deemed more simplistic, your identity is erased. People see pregnancy and motherhood as a performance and you are the lead actress. Youre treated differently, percieved differently, and thats fueled by bioessentialism. New moms do not feel more "loving" towards an infant than new fathers. Both secrete oxytocin, it comes with the monogamous, biparental animal package dumbass. Why would I be more loving towards something that sucks my boob off and ripped me open. So while I'm not trying to discredit post partum depression, I'm absolutely saying that societal issues are the pushing force. Im also pretty sure post partum statistics fluctuate based on country, and that in countries with paternity and a more equal dynamic have lower cases. But I'm not mentally stable enough myself to look into it, I know "trust me bro" type shit.

In conclusion 🤓 I'm tired of people seeing female pain and not finding ways to help it. The female body is strong, but it also needs care. You wouldn't expect a person with a broken leg to win a marathon. That's the whole reason males stay with females is to. Do. Their. Part. Idc if I'm picky, but literally, any talk on kids or pregnancy leaves me so dissatisfied. Expect men to start acting like an expectant father and partner during pregnancy. Your job is to comfort, provide, learn how to ease pains, provide emotional labor, drive and GO TO appointments (I think if it was even really "about life" they would look into male health too but that's a convo for another day), pay for appointments, be ready to help in case an emergency, so much more. Cuz it's always "don't drink while pregnant!" But how come the baby daddy can be at the bar with his friends? What if I go into labor? He needs to stay sober too I'm not his broodmare! The way men act like it has nothing to do with them because "well uhhhh I not carry a baby 🤷‍♂️" makes me so mad. As a new father too, they think "well man don't feed baby 🤤" like there isn't so much more. Imo, the man should be doing housework, taking care of the infant besides breastfeeding, and caring for a post partum partner. Even with breastfeeding, you can be involved. Take the infant when it's done eating, sit with your partner, provide company, and bond with your family. I've come to the conclusion that men don't want partners they want a collection. Men cannot accept that they have a weaker role while still being involved. Either he's big strong man or it's weak and my business. And the men that cheer from the side see it as "well she does most of it so that obviously means it's all her business but I'll just tell her she's soooooo strong" not like... telling other men how to do their job. Men are pathetic. Want credit for zero effort.

[sf-libet]

Fascination (f, dd/lc)

fuckin...i haven't reread over this fic in a while, and while i posted it in discord servers i never really felt confident enough to post it on here publicly, but i'm doing it now because i saw a post about android sneezing and felt like i should contribute my thoughts that i had a long while ago. there's nothing terribly objectionable here it's just the first snzfic i've seriously written and never felt confident enough in lmao, but seeing as i reignited my dd/lc hyperfixation a while ago (and i have a few other floating drafts maybe) i might as well post it now

preamble out of the way, cw for some mess and implied sexual content, you know the drill, have at it you filthy animals

Tktktktktktktktktktktktktktktktktktk...tktktk...tktktktktktktk-

“What are you working on, Anon?”

She interrupted his typing with a simple question, one which he didn’t quite look up to answer. More that he looked past her, or...through her. It was difficult to place where his eyes were, really, it was one of the limits of the avatar he’d made of himself. Monika appreciated the work to give her something to interact with, but it was...less than perfect. Between their worlds apart, it was a miracle he’d managed to send something through her window, let alone make it functional enough that they could see each other in every movement. Not that he didn’t have help.

“...Something new. I’m curious if I can get something to work...but so far it’s...not cooperating with me.”

He pushed a finger against his cheek, down to his mouth, absently moving his finger as he reviewed the code. It was a strenuous process to get this to work in the first place, and at this point, he was curious to test his limits, but...didn’t want to go too far. He’d been given an initial framework, and they’d expanded it together. But the more he’d pushed the edges of what it was capable of, the more he realized how...human her construction was.

She giggled, which he noticed but only half processed it as he focused...where was the error coming from? What was going wrong here?

“...Heheh. You’re so cute when you’re working, Anon.” “Hm?”

He peered up, painted eyes giving her full attention.

“You push your lip around with your thumb when you’re thinking about something. It’s adorable.”

Though she couldn’t tell he was blushing, she noticed his body language change--he shifted slightly, uncomfortable, still unused to this much attention. She delighted in teasing him, but at the same time, felt a twinge of guilt each time he reacted--he was so sweet, he dedicated himself to building this world for her, and spent so much time expanding it, so why had nobody else spoiled him, when he deserved it? 

...Well, as far as she was concerned, it just meant their relationship was destined. Or something like that. It seemed like they were made for each other’s needs.

Snf.

She sniffed, suddenly feeling a burning sensation in her left nostril. It was sharp, unexpected, nagging...she rubbed a knuckle harshly over her septum, attempting to stave it off...pushing the delicate skin of her nostrils around.

This did not go unnoticed.

In fact, at the sound, Anon’s head literally perked up. She was, at present, flipping through a book of poetry (courtesy of Z-Library, thanks to a little modification enabling her to peek into ebook formats), intermittently watching him type away at his keyboard. They were on a bed--He had his laptop, both literally and digitally, in his lap as he typed. Legs intertwined.

So in their closeness, he didn’t miss the sniff. Nor the slight pink that her nose took on after she rubbed it. He had an idea of where this was going--he just saved his changes--now he needed to do a little probe for information.

“...Feeling sniffly?” Awkward, but it got the job done. He needed to know if this was actually working.

“Ugh, yeah, haha...you noticed?”

Their eyes met. His were focused on her nose, though she wouldn’t know. “Well...Never seemed like an issue in here before.” He was playing coy, but it was also the most natural thing he could think to say. He couldn’t let on too much too early, he needed to get it to work all the way first…

“I don’t know why, but my nose has been tickling all afternoon. Must be some quirk of the environment, or something…”

No, it was him. He’d done an obsessive reading of what were essentially the innards of her code after the first time they’d...gotten intimate. The more he’d been working with the environment, the more he’d grown curious about her. What did her programming look like, and what modification was possible between the two of them? What could she do, and what couldn’t she, that maybe he could add? There was a lot to explore.

And, well...he had an interest in this, so...might as well take advantage of it.

“...Okay, well...I understand what this error is now that I’m looking at it…”

“That’s good. So what is it?”

So he could control the amount of irritation in her nose with this code. He was right about this much. Her eyes pried into him, closing her book and giving him full attention. 

He needed to see if the routine would work or just error out. He was glad the orgasm routine had already been programmed in...it made the syntax...shockingly easy to figure out, at least, if he was correct about it.

“Uh...I’ll explain in a sec, let me see if I can get it working first.”

One eighth, right?

He had been messing with irritation values for a little while, but kept getting the same error: Resistance threshold too high; routine aborted…

He was growing frustrated. There were no values for resistance defined here. How was he meant to beat it out without going overboard? He didn’t want to just make her suffer…

On the subject, direct irritation like this seemed a little on the nose, no pun intended. If it wasn’t making her breath even hitch...well, it was probably just burning. That kind of tickle in the back of your nose where it just hurts. That wouldn’t do. He needed something more...subtle. Easy.

...Well, there were set variables and syntax for a dietary intolerance here, so...maybe, with a few extra pointers…

...Monika sniffed again, harder this time. As she breathed in and out through her nose, something began to brew. There was a slight, niggling itch throughout both nostrils this time. It grew steadily, blossoming forth, a billowing, feathery itch slowly rising through her nose, growing with every breath, pushing to the forefront of her senses. She rubbed at it again...and again, more aggressively this time. Suddenly, without warning, the tickle brushed the back of her left nostril, and drew an unstable “hUeh-!” from her throat.

Her head lolled steadily upwards with jutting, bobbing motions, rising in time with her increasingly unsteady breathing, eyes pressing themselves shut as she struggled-and failed- to maintain composure, hand firmly squeezed over her nostrils, attempting to squash the sneeze before it could escape. Anon stared along, all the while, watching his handiwork in motion. Her breathing-- “hh-AHhh...heEH...hUH…” --more and more a slave to the irritant at work in her nose, teasing her, bending her will. Her hand loosened from its iron grip around her nose, revealing reddened skin, and presently, one rubbed at it, while the other waved helplessly in the air. But it continued unabated, ferociously twisting itself through her entire nose, brushing on every surface, tiny bombs exploding against sensitive skin, slowly wearing her down until she wanted to do nothing but sneeze, and sneeze-- “Hh-eHH! I...hUHHEHH-!...I’m gonna...I’m gonna sneeze!...” It came out as little more than a whisper as she continued to lose control...seemingly giving up the fight, rubbing wildly at her tortured nose, growing closer and closer to climax…

And then...stopped. The irritation was evidently still there, she was still stuck, mouth agape, nostrils flared, sniffling, hitching, perfect, beautiful face, contorted into that sneezy expression, trapped in that moment. She’d go up, and up...and then stop.

Okay, why… “Oh, shit, I--” With a quick tap of his keys, he fixed the error, and saved-

“hEAHH--nGKkt!”

“...forgot a semicolon.”

It worked.

She sneezed. Head pitched forward into the crook of her elbow, smothering the sound in the sleeve of her shirt, picture perfect as with all things. He felt lighter than air, on pins and needles, the scene playing in slow motion in his head, over and over again. She sighed in relief, sniffling once more (more wetly) as she brushed another knuckle over her poor nose.

“...uh...B-bless you, Monika…”

Her eyes met his face, again, a light blush on her cheeks as she regained control of herself, and was reminded of where she was. That was more dramatic than normal. What came over her? 

“...Thank you, Anon...”

And all of a sudden, she was avoiding eye contact, cheeks about as pink as her nose.

Internally screaming, he read over the log output. “EXECUTED SUCCESSFULLY” was what caught his eye with a giddy feeling in the pit of his stomach. “So,” she cleared her throat, both a functional action, and intending on clearing the air after her outburst. “You forgot a semicolon? On -snf- what?” Attempting to ignore the persistent tickle in her nose, she subtly scrubbed the underside with her finger. 

“...Well...I’d been thinking.” Playing coy. But...maybe he should be honest, too...it would make this a lot less awkward. “If--uh, well, I mean…” Another sniffle, watery eyes doing their best to remain open and attentive on what he was saying. “I thought, since we’d expanded our own home here so much, I should do some deeper reading into what we started with on terms of infrastructure.” He wondered how red his cheeks were. She’d always commented on it before. But she wasn’t focused on that now, she was focused on fending off this torturous tickle, ignoring it, and paying attention to what her lover was saying. “Yeah? A-hahh-nd?” Her entire face quivered as her breath hitched mid sentence. Eyes wavering towards half-lidded, mouth hanging open a moment longer, nostrils flaring as her rubbing picked up intensity.

“Well, I-I mean, I ended up taking a peek into your code, and read over some keynotes of what you were actually programmed to be able to do.” He was uncertain of how she’d take even that. It did certainly sound a little creepy now that he said it out loud. Admittedly, she was unsure of how she was even supposed to take that. He’d...basically looked into her internal organs, more or less. And into her mind, she supposed. Then again, she had said, if she were in the same position… “h-uehh-!” She blinked hard, feeling the itch shift deeper into her nostrils. Despite her best efforts, she just--she couldn’t squash it, she couldn’t stop it-! It was--oh, it was coming on so fast! She was going to sneeze, she-

“--nGxt!” As quiet as she could make it, it came out, twitching forward into her pinched fingers this time. Ordinarily, these were nearly silent. She hated sneezing in front of other people. It was a necessary bodily function, sure, but...it was such a powerful loss of control. And her sneezes were so loud, and on occasion sounded so wet...it was embarrassing. But this tickle was so powerful, so insistent, she couldn’t stop herself from letting out a sound. It was so uncomfortable, and she was fighting such a losing battle right in front of him. Maybe she’d be fine letting one go...no, that would be so embarrassing at this point! And it’d probably gross him out...

Little did she know how close to heaven he felt.

“Well, I noticed that with all of your personality, and how well you function as a person, it seemed like it excised a large number of...human elements.” Oh--another one was following after the second! She couldn’t speak, she could barely think before sneezing again! She was stuck making that face, her brows furrowed together, mouth slightly agape, nostrils flaring, twitching in response to the irritation wrestling control of her body-- “--!” Ah! Aha! It was silent! She couldn’t help the motion, but it was completely- “--! --! --nt! --nntt!” More ran off its coattails, and at this point, she was stuck in a loop, with the irritation remaining consistent, driving sneeze after sneeze out of Monika’s poor nose, forcing her lithe frame back and forth. No matter how many times she went through the same motion, it seemed that her nose was unsatisfied. No matter how she tried, the irritation was not cleared. Something needed to change, and she could feel a shift in her nose as the tickle intensified.

“Bodily functions,” He whispered, watching his handiwork closely, tapping his keyboard upwards to the allergy section, ready to comment it out so she could speak. “...Like sneezing.”

Her mucous membranes, unhappy with the vicious assault of this unknown irritant, did what they did best, producing new snot in her otherwise perfectly immaculate nostrils. Her nose, rubbed raw at this point and almost glowing red in hue, twitched and shook as her head rose backwards, last annals of her will crumbling as the tickle reached the back of her throat. Hitching breaths teased her lungs, as finally, she decided to give in--she needed to just sneeze, and get rid of this--she needed to sneeze! “Hh-hehHuHH--” Eyes screwed shut, a single tear pushing just past her cheek as it fell, nostrils quivering at the mercy of what felt like a billion tiny feathers in every part of her nose. “HHUEHH-! I’m--I’m gonna-!” In spite of her embarrassment, she felt the reflex to warn others. How paradoxical.

And, with one final deep breath, and a full anticipating dip backwards, her head flew forwards into two cupped hands, hair swimming in the space behind it.

“HEAHH-nnNNGTTSSCHUU!”

She sneezed, powerfully, and wetly. 

She rose slowly from the position, eyes still closed, and hands still cupped to her face. A low moan escaped her, embarrassment overriding everything else in her head. She’d just sneezed, loudly, messily, into her hands, in front of her lover. She didn’t want him to see the aftermath--hell, she didn’t want to see the aftermath. She could feel how wet her hands were, and as she slightly shifted she could feel the snot stuck from her nose. 

And, as slowly as she had risen her head, she opened her eyes.

What was he saying? That he’d programmed her--to be able to sneeze?

Well, that much...made sense, she supposed. She hadn’t remembered sneezing since she’d met him...in fact, she hardly felt a prickle in her nostrils…

Wait, so he’d programmed her to--

Suddenly, she turned away, brow furrowed in anger this time. 

“...Well, I hope you’re happy with your results.” She sniffled, a harsh, wet sound, which seemed to do nothing more but stir what was already out. She shuddered slightly, the uncomfortable feeling of slime over her fingers, but...they didn’t have tissues.

Her words seemed to surprise him out of a stupor. “Oh--I--I’m sorry...B-bless you…” 

She was silent for a moment again, still facing away, pouting and with hands covered in snot, weighing her options.

“...thank you. -snf-”

The sheepish reply goaded him further.

“...I--uh, I guess I should confess,” he brushed a hand over her shoulder, trying to emphasize as much comfort over the situation as possible. “I...err, I-” he swallowed, “I...kinda have...a thing for sneezing? That sounds weird. I know. I’m sorry.”

“...What?”

Well. That was the last thing she was expecting.

“...yeah, I…”

“...You could have said something sooner!” 

Half turned, her annoyed voice stung a bit more than he was expecting.

“...So, like a...a...sexual thing?”

Eye contact. Wordlessly, he nodded.

Her eyes went down to his pants. Sure enough, a bulge matching what he must have had in real life.

...Well, it wasn’t the weirdest fetish out there. And it wasn’t the most painful for her. “...Well, okay. I feel better.” Sure, she’d read different message boards, she was aware it existed. It was unexpected that he would be one of them, but, well...this was her anon, after all. “It’s easy to do for you, I guess. It is a natural bodily function, after all.” Behind her hands, a warm smile had formed. Relief. This wasn’t embarrassing or gross to him--this was what he wanted! That certainly changed the playing field.

“Uh, -snf- well, are you into...snot?” Awkward question. Awkward sentence. Erotic to him, she guessed.

“No...well, kinda, I don’t know…” He moved slightly, considering it. “I’m not into all of the crazy snot play that certain porn gets into. And I don’t want you to sneeze in my mouth or anything like that. I just like it when you sneeze...and messiness is a bit of a turn-on I guess. And...blowing your nose, I suppose?” Okay, that made Monika’s problem easy to solve. “Well, could I...uh, could I get some tissues then? I’m kinda covered…” “Oh! Yeah, hold on just a sec.”

After some more quick typing, a blue box with soft white tissues sticking out of it appeared above–and then dropped into Monika’s lap. With an unproductive sniffle, she slowly moved her hands from her nose...only to quietly shriek in disbelief and disgust at what her own body had produced.

Twin streams of snot, clear but sticky, connected her nostrils to her hands. Quickly, she put her hands over her nose again, shutting her eyes. “Hey…” With a soothing, what he guessed was a cooing voice, he ran a hand over her shoulder again...and quickly moved to cop one of the most bizarre, but exhilarating feels he has ever copped in his life. With one hand, he grabbed one of her forearms and began to pull it down gently, with the other, he grabbed a few tissues from the box.

And with the same gentle touch that he pulled her hands down with, he began wiping the streaming mucous from her hands...and face, brushing against the delicate skin with the tissues, before pushing it against Monika’s nose...he couldn’t believe this was happening…

“Blow.” He commanded, voice just barely above a whisper. Wordlessly, she put her own hands over his, adjusting his grip, and did as she was told, the sensation...oddly sensual. She gave a productive, gurgling blow...the world induced irritation had certainly left its marks, and she was definitely stuffed up. One nostril...then the other, he could feel the moving air and fluid against his fingers as she blew her nose into the tissue.

Afterwards, she sniffled again, and removed her hands, giving a solid signal for Anon to do the same, half compelled to look into the tissue before crumpling it up and tossing it into the Recycle Bin. He resisted the urge, resolving it wouldn’t be much better than what had just happened...and tossed the ball out.

His heart was beating out of his chest. She smiled at him, as he watched her move towards him, dumbfounded. One hand to the back of his head, bringing him closer, to kiss...the other down south, attending to matters she’d stirred up. “Thank you, Anon. My nose was so stuffed up…”

This was going to be a long night.

[zerobaseonefics]

cuddles and movie ㅡ park hanbin

park hanbin x reader

requested : you give the silent treatment to park hanbin, and he becomes clingy. dear anon, i hope it will turn out the way you wanted <3

warnings : none, just fluff!!

1359 words

the scent of sweat was finally going through park hanbin nostrils when he sat on the floor of the dance practice room. checking the hour, he realized he had spent more time than he was supposed to do here, torturing his dance mates for hours. you know how hardworking he is, and how he won't let his teammates go home until everything's finally perfect. and there was this show his dance crew would be giving next thursday, and as a leader, it was his mission to make sure they do well.

it's only when he realized that his crewmate, kamden, looked more sleepy than usual and was dancing with his eyes closed like some type of zombie, that hanbin decided to wrap it for today.

yes, he realized he did a lot today.

yes, he questionned himself about how yedam's little body still had energy.

he realized it was maybe too much, but there is something that hasn't crossed his mind yet : it was 8pm, and he promised you, his s/o, that he will be home at 5pm, so you guys could go on a date.

in fact, hanbin was so stressed about that show he absolutely forgot about the date. and it was not the first time. after the practice, because he kinda felt bad for his tired friends, he offered them to have food. they all said yes, even the sleepy kamden, who could just not pass on food.... he'd go, eat the dish that feels tastier because he didn't pay for it, and sleep on the table when he's done or something.

anyways, all of those events made hanbin go home around 10 o'clock. he took off his shoes, throwing them somewhere in the corridor. the most important thing for him right now was to shower. and so, he went straight to the bathroom.

it's only when he accidently let cold water hit his body that he got back to his senses. he picked up the pieces of the puzzle, one by one. how was it so dark outside and you didn't seem to be home ? i mean, he hasn't see you when he got there, when you're usually waiting for him in the living room... he thought you might have gotten to sleep, but it was way too early and you weren't the type to sleep at that time of the night. and then, it hit him. opening his mouth in disbelief, he realized he had missed you date. a-fucking-gain.

he hurried to finish his shower, asking himself repeatedly what the hell was wrong with him, and yeah i agree, what the hell is wrong with you park hanbin. how could you forget about your amazing s/o, like?? give it to me.

he got out of the bathroom after he was done and dressed, and went straight up to look for you in your shared apartment, calling your name with hesitation. you never replied once, and he found you in your room, reading some book. he felt even more bad when your eyes ended up on him and he felt how disappointed you were. your eyes went back to your book, ignoring him, as he went closer to the bed your were lying on.

"hey y/n...." no answer.

"you...you had a nice day?" still nothing.

"listen... i'm so sorry i forgot our date, again. i know it's no excuse but i was just so focused into practice that i haven't see the time pass and then i felt bad for my teammates and..."

he was discouraged in talking more, as you wouldn't answer. he saw the light when you decided to get up, closing your book. he opened his arms too greet you, but you just passed by him, going straight to the living room. he called your name one more time, to which you responded by showing him your palm, like someway of saying "talk to the hand". he asked himself if maybe you needed some more space...

you know, it's just that before you, the poor boy never felt the warmth of another person. like, yeah, that loser was focusing on dance and didn't realized he could fall in love or something with anyone. like, please get him out of that practice room. and so, he was not a bad boyfriend, far from this, but sometimes, shit happens, and he has no idea how to fix it.

and if hanbin couldn't fix his own problems, another hanbin would do it for him.

"oh that's very bad...", said sung hanbin on the other side of the phone after park hanbin told him everything.

"hyung, do you think they are going to break up with me ?", whined your boyfriend.

"nooo !! i mean, i don't think so. but it's only logical that they are that mad..."

"what should i do ?"

"make it up to them. they wanted some of your love and attention, nothing more, but you cancelled so many of your dates. last times, at least, you warned them that you couldn't make it, but this time you just said nothing about it. if they want your love and attention, give it to them now, show them you're really sorry and maybe they will open up about it more easily."

after, that call, park hanbin went straight to join you in the living room, sitting next to you on the couch. you didn't spare him a single look, and he was almost discouraged before he remembered what his friend told him. plus, he just missed you so much, he couldn't stand the silent treatment you were giving him.

slowly, he went to take your hand into his, holding it gently, looking at you to see if he got some reactions out of you. nothing. taking your hand to his lips, he kissed the back of it, as you looked away so he won't see how affected you were by the gesture.

"y/n, i missed you so much. could we talk about this ?"

even if he got no answer out of it, he knew it was starting to work when you got up. let's be real, you were kinda enjoying it, so you couldn't just give in that easily. keep going boss!! make him regret!! don't let him get into your mind!!

however, when you decided to get up to avoid him once again, he just pulled you onto his laps, making you seat on them. an arm sneaking around your waist looking at you with eyes full of hope. gently, he put one strand of you hair behind your ear.

"you look good today, it's a shame i couldn't take you anywhere or see you enough..."

"well, i wonder whose fault it is, right ?" you finally answered.

"all mine. i'm so sorry."

"it's not the first time you doing it, hanbin. i get all the stress you might feel because of your incoming show, and i get that you have responsabilities as a leader... but you could've at least call me. so i won't wait for you, or worry about the fact that you're not home at 10pm."

"i know love... i did wrong, but i promise next time i won't skip any of our dates. okay ? you're way more important than some dance competition. would you let me make it up to you ?"

bro BYE you are weak as hell for that boy. you knew you couldn't ignore him more, you felt bad for him and you just missed him so much. you still tried to put on your best act, to making him unsure about your answer.

"hm... how will you make it up to me ?"

"how about some cuddles and your favorite movie ?"

"okay i'm down."

yeah once again you're weak. and that's how you spent the 15 next minutes laying on the couch, hanbin on top of you, his head hidden in the crook of your neck as he whispered some sweet nothing, telling each other about your day, placing some kisses in between all of that.

"hanbin."

"hm ?"

"i think we forgot the movie part in the "cuddle and movie" thing."

"...oh yeah right."

[the-dairy-of-a-normal-person]

idk how to start but I am SO confused about that last look of a flabbergasted Francesca when she meets Michaela? WHAT WAS THAT? i haven't read the books so excuse me for that 😭

some thoughts-

+ they are wasting away Benedict. they are wasting his potential and story and what all he could be. he felt so...out of place, confused and useless this season. half of his scenes were of him having sex that was not going ANYWHERE. i love Benny so much but i want shonda to treat this President of Pookie Nation with care and love. I want the story to respect Benedict because his character has so much potential and so much to offer. He hides behind his charming smiles and taunts but his eyes are always sad. As if he is looking for something-this one crucial piece of puzzle and he cannot seem to find it. shonda babes you better sharpen your quill.

+ all the instances that were supposed to be happy for Pen- the marriage, the engagement, the wedding night, ALL OF IT WAS RUINED BECAUSE of that stupid LW secret.

+Kate and Anthony still the best couple i do not make the rules. i don't think even Polin is topping them. tho Kate is certainly topping Anthony tonight.

+ the season was good don't get me wrong but it felt..a bit... rushed and its like the writers are focusing more on the future than savour the present. everything is happening because of the future seasons. idk if that makes sense

+i DID NOT like violet's treatment of kilmartin. i like violet most of the time but she didn't have to act so "unsure", distant and sloppy with kilmartin.

+Francesca gave some slippery vibes as if she is hiding something. or is it just me?

+I don't know why everyone is bashing Eloise so much. I pity her so much. She has kept the sword aside, she stopped fighting but she looks SO LONELY. she is not always the easiest person and she is whiny but i wish i could give her the tightest hug and talk day and night. maybe I see myself in her too much that i am defending her.

+i like they included hyacinth and Gregory this season, they are so precious.

+ i liked cressida's redemption arc but I think Lady Featherington might have won this one. She made peace with Pen in her own tight lipped fashion but i love that for her, i am not going to lie.

+ oh, cressida. i feel too bad for her. i do. but I do not sympathise with her. i actually do not know what to think of her at all.

+mr and Mrs mondrich yassssss slaying as always so cool so suave i love them

+once again, KANTHONY💅🏻🕺🏻✨🥰✨⭐✨💫❤️❤️❤️ ALWAYS AND FOREVER

+ Best acting this entire season- Claudia Jessie. She is just too good.

Honorable mention- Colin and his rage when he finds out the real LW

+ Nicola is so real for baring her boobs we love a relatable queen and SHE MADE SO MANY WOMEN SEEN WHO DO NOT THINK THAT THEY ARE BEAUTIFUL JUST BECAUSE THEY LACK CONVENTIONAL BODY TYPE. THANK YOU, QUEEN FOR MAKING ME FEEL SEEN.

+did I mention KANTHONY?

+LADY DANBURY' storyline was TOO DAMN GOOD. Her pain, the sweet moments between violet and her, how she confronted her brother. She is simply sublime. One of my fav characters. Again, i love my boy Benny but Lady Danbury had a better storyline than whatever the heck his story was trying to achieve.

okay, i ll stop. i am so sorry for making you read all this. i may not be as interesting as Lady WhistleDOWN.

Abt benedict : i'm afraid they are just going to use him off but apparently next season is about him so we'll, but yeah, appart from the sex scenes we had nothing more of him 🥲

Abt LW secret and all : I absolutely hated colin's reaction to pen's power and his stupid jalousy that he has all bc she is more sucsesfull than he will ever be and that she was able to build all of it by herself and her own labour and NO ONE praised her for that exept mme delacroix

Abt kanthony : i loved them sm but why werd they randomly popping on and out. I honestly lost track of them at some point

Abt the season writing : after discussing with a friend, we thought that the season did not have the same pattern as the others, especially part 2 which seemed a bit weird, as if not wrote by the same person

Abt violet : i used to be always like " i could never hate her " but now she just pissed me off. Girl, u can see that your daughter is happy and she found someone she's confortable with so why being such a brat ???

Abt Éloïse : i understand that she felt lonely and all but she is such a bad friend, took cressida for granted, just using her and not even caring for anyone but herself

Abt lady featherington : i had the feeling her "redemption arc " was forced and unatural

And finally, i agree with pretty much everything

Thank you for interacting ❤️

[sugoi-and-spice]

Wait call me cirnge but UGH i love play nice sm...

I want your opinion on these questions! you don't have to but i just wanted to hear it cause while i was reading i was thinking of SOOO many what ifs

1. Do you think the story would've still happened if reader was muscular/chubby (not beauty standard)?

2.what if reader wasn't in a pre-existing relationship?

3.what if ready was just as mentally ill as Tomura?

4. has kurogiri ever had the displeasure of hearing reader and tomura?

5.what if instead of employee, reader's parent was a business partner to AFO?

OMG i have so many more but like..I don't want to bug you!! I just need to hear your opinion, from the great spice themselves 💕

Not cringey at all! Very fun questions in fact! Thanks for asking them, I love to answer stuff like this about my fics.

1. Do you think the story would've still happened if reader was muscular/chubby (not beauty standard)?

I typically write MC as more muscular in general, since she's a pretty top-tier athlete. That being said, I also try not to go too in depth with MC's physical descriptions, outside of Shigaraki describing her hotness, which can really be any body type.

Ultimately, her body-type really doesn't have much relevance to the story, so yeah, I think it can happen no matter what she looks like.

2. what if reader wasn't in a pre-existing relationship?

Hmmm, I don't know - it's a pretty big aspect of the story so I haven't really considered how it would go down without Mirio. I definitely don't think it'd be any easier for them. Shigaraki and AFO would make damn sure of that.

MC would probably be a lot quicker to admit her feelings for Shigaraki and put her heart on her sleeve, which in turn would scare the crap out of Shigaraki sooner and cause him to self-sabotage.

The story would also probably be more focused around AFO trying to separate the two, as it is steadily started to focus now.

3. what if ready was just as mentally ill as Tomura?

Hmm, again I haven't written MC as explicitly not mentally ill. She probably has some pretty hardcore anxiety, ngl lol. But also, I for sure haven't written her as unstable and traumatized as Shigaraki is.

For MC to be that way, idk, that would be a very different story. They'd be relating to each other in completely different ways than they do in this story. As it is, MC represents a potential safe space and source of stability for Shigaraki. So for MC to not offer that stability to him? Again, would be a very different story with all different types of healing needed.

4. has kurogiri ever had the displeasure of hearing reader and tomura?

Lmaoooo, oh most definitely.

5. what if instead of employee, reader's parent was a business partner to AFO?

Pretty similar. Honestly, even AFO's business partners or "equals"... well they're not really equals. He has dirt and manipulation techniques on basically everyone in his life, and he's ready and willing to do anything he can to ruin them if he needs (or wants). So he'd have no problem threatening a business partner's job or reputation.

These were fun to answer! Sorry if my answer to some of them were kind of vague, there are some things that are so dependent on character choices or situations I chose for the characters that changing them would fundamentally change the story. And on the contrary, there are aspects I try to leave vague enough that the answer would be no difference.

So I hope you still found these fun. I know I did! So feel free to send in more. ^_^

[justagalwhowrites]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you for the tag @wintrwinchestr !

I haven't written much this week because I've been on vacation but first thing that's up is the one shot I started while on my trip! This is an excerpt from that. It's set in the Lavender universe but is NOT CANON and is based on a request from a lovely ask for some hurt/comfort with Joel and Doc ❤️

Next up is going to be Yearling and then Halcyon! For now, here's a a sneak peek at this fic I'm calling Shelter that is getting... well probably not surprisingly long because it's me, but... yeah,

“You had to give me a blood transfusion last time?” He asked, trying not to groan at the pain.  “I didn’t want to freak you out,” you said eventually, tucking gauze into the wound. “But… yeah, you were down a lot of blood and… Look, I did what I had to do to keep you alive.”  You cleaned up the skin around his injury.  “Whose blood?”  “What?” You asked, focused on the task.  “Whose blood did you use?” He asked. “Don’t imagine you went down to the clinic so whose blood.”  You were quiet and Joel was about to ask again when you spoke.  “We didn’t know your blood type,” you said quietly. “So Tommy would have been the best option…” your voice trailed off but he knew that wasn’t the end. He kept watching you and you sighed before you kept going. “But I’m O- so…”  He just blinked for a moment.  “It was yours.”  Your eyes darted to his for half a second.  “Yeah. It was mine.”  He was quiet as you pulled off your gloves with a sharp snap.  You’d saved him. Bled for him, poured yourself into him so he would keep breathing. He’d walked around for who knows how long with you pulsing through his body and he hadn’t known.  “You should have told me,” he said eventually. 

Play along if you'd like! NP tags: @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @toxicanonymity @romanarose

[modern-inheritance]

O7s in chat for my dubious sfw rating imo but lemme slap a beginning on this thing and we can boogie

yes i made Ket!Snake doing O7 because fuck it. i had to reflect it so it was actually O7.

a warning beforehand so it's abundantly clear, just incase I don't make it clear enough in the TW at the start of the fic.

This fic is going to contain allusions to attempted SA, a person being pinned under someone in a position of power, and, as I said to my DnD group last night before deleting the comment "a metaphor for SA by stabbing their fingers into someone's chest cavity!"

*finger guns* Let's discuss!

Look, I do not know how this happened. But Durza started writing himself and it felt right. I've been listening to the clips we have of Thunderbringer (pre-Thunder Saga release) from EPIC and listening to the clips of Hold Them Down as well because the bops are bops, and I'm loving Antinous' voice, the growly low rumbles, and it's done things to my writing brain. The previous short thing I posted this past week? The 'An Attempt' short? Yeah, the part that I haven't written yet and am debating on making an animatic for is based on the last half of 'Hold Them Down' where guards come to attempt to SA Arya but she does a big ol' nah on that and not only physically destroys some of them in adrenaline fueled rage but also 'holds them down' mentally and rips them apart/submerges them into her mind-song to drive them insane and catatonic. That's why there's a guy outside the cell in the hallway, he ran far enough then faceplanted when Arya held his mind in her mental-elf-song thing.

I've avoided SA as a topic in MIC because it's so, so difficult, for a multitude of reasons, to get done 'right.' I can wax poetic about the horrors of torture, the disturbing aftereffects, the ways it changes someone and how they feel about themselves, their bodies, their very core. I can even write about how some torture can feel like a violation (the Piece by Piece concept short which I can't even fIND BECAUSE TUMBLR'S SEARCH FUNCTION SUCKS SO MUCH) beyond the norm.

But SA is a type of violation that I am not versed in writing. It holds so much weight and is such a personal topic for so many people. MIC focuses a lot on war, the horrors of it, the terrible things done during conflict. And it's very, very clear, in the real world, that SA is used in war. But it's just not something I'm able to write.

So. Yeah.

I don't know where these came from. Full fledged SA does not occur in these, but the trauma that even attempted SA can and does inflict on people is very, very real. It's often brushed off as 'well, nothing actually happened, so stop whining/being so scared/etc.' but that is such a toxic, wrong view on it.

I did not mean for this to be so long or veer so deeply into this. It seems most of my posts have been doing such lately.

Back to the fic! I'll post it later today if I get a satisfactory beginning on it. Per usual it's gonna start sorta midpoint in an event I think, but it's Gil'ead. The whole time was like...one long torture session. I'm about to start rambling again, I'm gonna stop myself here, but Yeah, I'll get back to it.

[temporalhiccup]

Probably b/c I am on a huge fitd kick, but that resident evil inspired fitd has me *intrigued*

(from this WiP post!)

My partner @experimentego is keen on making a Resident Evil fan game for a friend, and we've been chatting about what that could look like!

Here are some notes I wrote down while thinking through the possibilities:

What are the characters doing? -> Survival Horror (RE invented the genre)

With Survival Horror death must always be close, but character death is boring in TTRPGs -> Every time you die (or perhaps to stave off death?) what if a part of your body becomes corrupted by the virus (body horror elements of RE?) -> Could be different per playbook?

A blend of both PbtA & FitD? PbtA is programmable, but FitD feels the strongest (narrative position and effect to set the survival horror stakes, resistance to push back and keep going, etc)

RE Characters don't feel archetypical, instead they feel modular. Brinkwood/Twilight Throne approach?

ACTIONS -> Mental (observe, "cunning", something about puzzles and putting them together?) Physical (Shoot, Brawl, Mobility/Running)

Premise of the game should be newbie friendly, design should be kept simple and light, easy to pick up, approachable (I was thinking of Matthew's friend in mind here since he doesn't have much experience in TTRPGs and I tend to design complex games haha)

FLASHBACKS - roleplay/narrative opportunity; instead of flashbacking to what you did before the mission, instead it's their life before they had to survive the horde/situation. What gives them the strength to go on? The means to survive? What will they lose as they transform and change?

The main reason I haven't worked on this game in earnest is that I know I'll have to play RE to really do the game justice and I'm really bad at horror video games haha. (I did play a lot of RE in my youth but I'm older and, uh, yeah I just don't willingly put myself through horror games really!)

That being said, Matthew's been thinking of drilling down to a particular type of RE experience, so that might mean focusing on just one game in the series and building from there. Since I'm mostly here to support Matthew's design that might make it doable for me to go back to work on!

[that-damn-fouth-chaosemerald]

𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞

—❢—

×A/N×

So here's the oneshot that I promised-

Bro, I can't write angst! 😭😭

Nvm-

I done it-

I think this is shittier than the previous version of this-

×❢ About my work ❢×

shitty angst, in the begining some fluff cuddling with Damien, The Readers death (hinted), very short, yandere Damien, but he doesn't really show that much sight of it-, use of (Y/N), no pronouns used for the reader, flashbacks, panic attack (hinted)

Type: Oneshot

Fandom: Markiplier Cinematic Universe (WKM)

Character(s): Damien, Y/N

Ship(s): Yandere Damien x Reader

Word count: Short cause I can't write sh.t-

—❢—

𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈: (I haven't find one yet-)

It was a beautiful day outside.

It was still dawn and the sky was so clear and beautiful. Many different colours played trough the sky as a little wind tickled Damien's hair.

It almost felt like a dream.

Your breathed calmly on Damien's chest, still sleeping in his arms. Damien could smell your sweet fragrance mixed with the flower's lovely scent. Damn, you felt so good. He would do anything for you just to keep you by his side.

You were right, infact it was a good idea to escape just a little from those boring paperworks.

He never was an outgoing guy. Not because he didn't like the nature, it's just he was so busy all the time. He wanted to spend time with you, and you chose to have a nice picnic outside. People wasn't really happy about this idea and to be honest at first he was a bit worried too aswell. What if someone sees him? Don't get him wrong, he didn't felt worried because he could get seen with you, he was afraid that someone will ruin you two's perfect moment.

Fortunately, you just had the perfect place to hide from the paper work and the crowd aswell! Trees hided you just perfectly and anyway people didn't seem to take walks around here when it was still dark.

Damien took a last breath of your sweet scent as he looked up at the sky, then he slowly closed his eyes.

• • •

Damien woke up in alarm as a loud crack could be heard from the thunder. When he figured out it was just the weather, he focused on his heart - which was beated like it would want to beak free from his chest - to calm it down.

He sat on the edge of the bed before he decided to left his room. The whole manor was probably sleeping deeply as he walked through the corridors.

Suddenly, he stopped at one specific door.

You were always afraid of thunders.

And just like he was called by an emergency he pulled down the doorhandle as quickly as possible.

He looked around the room calling your names gently so many times. Just silence came back. Damien spotted the bed and slowly walked to it.

Oh, yeah, right. You are not here. Not anymore.

He touched the soft material of the quilt. The bed was cold as it always been since then.

The coverlet was already swapped, not holding your missed scent anymore.

He went too far on that night. He didn't mean to harm you, he never was. He just wanted to keep safe his most beautiful person he ever seen from... well, from everything.

Damien's hands started to shake slightly as his grip got stronger on the fabric.

"I'm so sorry, (Y/N)." The only thing he could say with all those regret and emotion in his being.

It was an accident. If only you would have listen to him! If only you just stayed beside him and let him to keep you safe none of this would've happen. He wouldn't have to keep his tears back as his grief slowly tears apart his whole body. He wouldn't have to be reminded of how much of an failure he is of not keeping you safe.

If only he would've just controlled himself for that one minute.

He slowly let go the sheets. His whole body shivered from the anxiety and his hands were sweaty from the warm of the material.

He took a shaky breath before he made his way to the door.

"Good night, (Y/N)."

The sound of the door shut slowly faded in with the rain's small knockings on the window. The room was still as cold as it had left behind.