#being told to ‘use my brain’ to being told I'm a ‘core member’ at work to being called a fucker in gc

[18-toe-beans]

i’m still shaking

[nightswithkookmin]

I'm inactive from twitter nowadays so am always somehow behind the new updates,but always catch up when I can.about jimin going to newyork for work I heard no one knew about it? But been noticing jm pulls off this crazy crowd at the airport everytime hes alone.but I don't see this crowd for others?..it looks like jimin has his own solo huge fanbase in his country? this also after jm being barely active on social media but seems fans and kmedia really love jimin.,the first time he went to us and stayed for two weeks the crowd was insane too and some said he paid kmedia to bring fans in which is ridiculous.

He paid to get fans to the airport?????

I mean if he was gonna pay anyone it would be me and I'm not seeing any check in the mail🤷🏾‍♂️

People can be so corny 🙄

BTS is the most influential boyband in the world and people marvel when the one member people have always been curious about attracts attention whenever he steps out- never mind that he's also been the most inaccessible scarce member following the announcement of their solo careers.

All this talk about jikook going private-

It's such a wonder to see their brains at work

Not even gonna lie I would pay with my own money to rally up the hoes at his front door so I'm in no position to Judge let alone condemn anyone who does this too.

If anyone is paying the media to be anywhere it is his fans. It is me. I did it. Jimin has nothing to do with it. They should leave him alone.

We gonna get him the crown, the trophies, the streams, the plays, the clout, the attention, higher ratings, play his soft core PR managers, manage his brand- if we could post and curate his IG ourselves we would. If we could pay for his flights so he flies private or 1st class all the time we would, if we could choose which programs he should be on we would, if we could be his agents we would, if we could create a whole new planet for himWE WOULD.

People underestimate just how obsessed his fans and detractors alike are with him. I tell you his haters are his biggest promoters and we thank them.

We mean business out here darling. Other stans are just lazy. Look at what they doing to RM!!! They not even giving him the clicks!it's been four days and still life isn't even clocking 10m- they should stop worrying about Jimin and go stream like the bitches they are

JM stans want to see him do better and that motivates everyone in one way or the other no matter their reach. PJMs are resourceful. It's why fake woke OT7s cancel them a lot💀

They spend so much time and energy abusing others they reserve no energy to support their faves.

He has in us a ride or die and people are just jealous.

Jimin stans we are dedicated🙃

Look at me. I've been through the wood chip, lived through several moments of BTS droughts- I should hang my coat and retire yet I'm still here💀

Had friends who've told me to give all this up and live my life- I'm no longer friends with them🙂

I'll give you up before I give Jimin up

I am here till the final curtain call🙂

On a serious note, guys go watch Still life MV and let's push it to at least 10m damn

[agender-witchery]

I just finished Outer Wilds for the first time after dodging all information about it for the past 4 years. Sum total of my knowledge going in: There is a time loop, you can land on the sun, and it's a game that I would enjoy.

First off, I'd like to thank my brain for being extremely logged off so that I can play games well past release date and still get the day 1 experience. I did the same with Breath of the Wild.

Outer Wilds is, possibly, one of the best games for me I've ever played. First off, I'm a sucker for abstract puzzles, so "you're stuck in a time loop and the solution is available right away but you've got a few places to go before you even know what to do" gets me good.

The game could be much more straightforward. There's a TON of information about the Nomai and their experiments that is entirely extraneous to the information you need to reach the ending, but that provides backstory on why they did the things they did. All I needed to know was that the Vessel had a powerful warp drive, that I could get a usable warp core from Ash Twin, how to avoid anglerfish, where the Vessel is, how to warp into Ash Twin, and the coordinates of the Eye.

But along the way, I learned why the Nomai sought out the Eye. I learned how they planned on finding it. I learned about the Quantum Moon, where ghost matter came from, and what kind of people the Nomai were. If I were just given the instructions to go from point A to point B, I'd miss the entire history of this species' presence in the solar system.

Because it wasn't really a game about reaching the end. Outer Wilds is a game where you're told "Hey, it's space day, we're sending you out with our newest Nomai translation technology to learn more about these people" and then an ENTIRE story showed up. Each clue toward reaching the Eye was ALSO a new thread for me to follow.

Overall, I just really love uncovering histories. I love the feeling of discovering a world that used to be. I cried a little bit when I reached the Quantum Moon's sixth location, the interaction you have. Because I wasn't just meeting some random Nomai, but the last member of a race whose mysteries I'd committed to solving.

And I loved how little the game cared about you as an individual, as well. I'm not sure it was their intent, perhaps Gabbro could've just been paired to give you someone to discuss the time loop with, but it did just go to show that you were just kind of in the right place at the right time. Could've been anyone. Could've been no one. And in the end... the universe still died. You weren't special, you weren't powerful, all the work had already been done 200,000 years ago, and you were just putting the pieces together. But what was important in that story were the people who were your family, and the people who you carried the torch for.

You weren't special, but the connections you made were.

[pesterloglog]

Dave Strider, Dirk Strider

Act 6, page 7917-7922

DAVE: damn

DAVE: and i thought our houses were pointlessly tall before

DAVE: it just doesnt stop from keep constantly getting more and more vertically enormous

DIRK: Shit is downright precipitous at this point.

DIRK: Like, upways.

DAVE: haha yeah

DAVE: we made sure as fuck not to come right out and literally describe that building as tall

DIRK: Hell yes.

DIRK: Who needs small and serviceable adjectives when the most ass-backwards way of saying a thing is right there, tantalizingly hidden within the vast ocean of language.

DIRK: Like a treasure in a huge shitty clam.

DAVE: we are way on the same page philosophically here

DIRK: Who is surprised by this?

DIRK: Zero people, is who.

DAVE: sounds like a club for losers to me

DAVE: theyre lucky they dont have any members, otherwise theyd all be lame as hell

DIRK: Yeah.

DAVE: so uh

DAVE: why do the houses need to be so tall again

DAVE: i never actually understood that

DAVE: except to reach the gates but once we all figured out how to fly and shit that became so pointless

DIRK: Yeah. After a while in the game, building kind of stopped mattering.

DIRK: Except near the end. Getting them to the top is just a point of completion.

DIRK: Then you dump the grist rig on top of it, apparently.

DIRK: That lets the thing spray out all the grist from the hoard in the planet's core, kind of like a huge oil derrick I guess.

DAVE: oh

DAVE: how do you know this

DAVE: do you guys have like a manual or

DIRK: I'm in communication with Arquiusprite.

DIRK: He's working on it now.

DAVE: so youre in communication with him like...

DAVE: RIGHT now?

DIRK: Yes.

DIRK: Via my shades.

DIRK: Which he incidentally used to be.

DIRK: Like, as a computer, which he lived inside as my Auto-Responder.

DAVE: right

DAVE: and

DAVE: uh

DAVE: why... did you make that thing again

DAVE: not that you ever told me before

DAVE: 'again' is just like a stammering tack-on to that sentence so as to try and not sound too fucking rude

DIRK: I don't think it's a rude question. It's perfectly fair to wonder what was going through my head when I made him.

DIRK: I've spent a lot of time wondering about that myself.

DAVE: so you just

DAVE: straight up programmed a copy of your brain

DIRK: There was some programming involved, but also a bit of cheating, through the mapping of a captchalogued ghost-imprint of my brain.

DIRK: I guess part of it was just about trying to understand myself.

DIRK: But I don't think I would have put it that way at the time. For a while I insisted he was meant to be a "debate partner" or some horseshit.

DIRK: I was pretty young, and had some stupid ideas.

DIRK: About irony in particular. But also a lot of mostly faux-intellectual thoughts on a wide variety of topics.

DIRK: Like philosophy, consciousness, programming, identity, history, ancient pop-culture... really it ran the full gamut of pretension.

DIRK: Not that I don't still find that stuff interesting. I'd just like to think I'm somewhat less full of shit about it all now.

DAVE: yeah me too

DAVE: i mean, about my interests and stuff

DIRK: Creating him was an interesting exercise I guess, but over the years I came to see his development as one of my biggest mistakes.

DIRK: He sort of turned into a monster. But I could never bring myself to get rid of him, or even really blame him for being an asshole, because he wasn't actually that different from me.

DIRK: Like, by definition.

DIRK: He seems alright as Arquius though. At least it keeps him busy, obsessing over his muscles, asking for milk and shit like that.

DAVE: hmm

DAVE: i guess i started some projects i regretted

DAVE: but nothin like making a milk weirdo eventually exist

DAVE: it sounds fucked up but is also kind of an awesome story in its own way

DIRK: I guess so.

DAVE: maybe im lucky i was never that good with computers

DAVE: now computer ART thats a different story

DAVE: ok it actually isnt i fuckin suck at that too

DAVE: but dammit i try my best and make some magic happen at least in my own mind so maybe thats good enough

DIRK: It certainly worked out for you in my universe.

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: i mean

DAVE: i DID captchalogue my own ghost brain once but i didnt know what to make of that and thought it was kinda weird so that never really went anywhere

DAVE: probably for the best

DIRK: It definitely is.

DIRK: Tinkering with your own mind, or identity or whatever... it's a dark road to go down.

DIRK: There are enough splinters of everyone running around out there as it is, just as a natural byproduct of our reality. For me in particular. Probably for you too, as a time player.

DIRK: That process doesn't need to be encouraged or fucked with.

DAVE: for real

DAVE: my bro did cool things with computers too

DAVE: i mean nothin like making a clone of his brain or anything thank god

DAVE: just some absurd bullshit with web bots and stuff mostly to help prop up his various "enterprises"

DIRK: You mean the porn stuff?

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: but with puppets of course

DAVE: it was always about the puppets

DIRK: Naturally.

DAVE: he made all these porn bots that would just talk to each other in a chatroom endlessly

DAVE: all like gettin each other riled up about squishy bottoms and whatnot

DAVE: actually it was pretty entertaining to watch them go at it for hours

DAVE: i think they may have been teetering on the threshold of SOMETHING resembling self awareness?

DAVE: except they only seemed to apply that faculty to reach even more heightened states of sexual excitement for a bunch of nude soft puppets

DIRK: That sounds...

DIRK: Oddly rewarding.

DIRK: I mean, not to say he wasn't still a douche.

DIRK: But as a pastime, cultivating a group of earnest, erotic puppet-loving chatbots sounds so much more relaxing than painstakingly constructing a version of your own brain, and then arguing with it for years thereafter.

DIRK: Almost like tending to a little flock of pigeons.

DAVE: yeah you know he did some cool things

DAVE: it wasnt necessarily all inherently terrible

DAVE: things i would really appreciate under better circumstances

DAVE: he definitely had a lot of drive and also some uh "ideas" that warranted a certain amount of respect i guess

DAVE: he just

DAVE: maybe should not have been allowed near a child?

DAVE: sall im sayin

DIRK: Sounds about right.

DIRK: We really don't have to talk about him anymore though, if it is going to stir up more bad shit for you.

DAVE: nah im alright

DAVE: i think that is all mostly out of my system

DAVE: i mean not forever because i dont think thats how things work

DAVE: i just mean my venting fit is over and im probably good for another 16 years or so and i can return to being mostly deadpan and rad

DIRK: Ok.

DIRK: Well, in sixteen years, if you need someone to vent to again, let me know.

DAVE: sure

DAVE: assuming we havent been killed by like 10 jacks before that i will

DAVE: you certainly seem to be the right guy for that

DIRK: For what?

DAVE: i mean like the most suitable recipient of my hysterical fits on that particular subject

DAVE: there is no way i would ever tell karkat all that

DAVE: i mean maybe some stuff but not ALL the stuff its just too heavy

DAVE: i certainly wasnt gonna mention the stuff to rose or john or jade or whoever else

DAVE: if i was ever gonna do one of my patented acrobatic pirouettes off that particular handle to anyone it really only could have been at him

DAVE: except he was dead

DAVE: and even if he wasnt and i did say all that shit

DAVE: theres no way it would have resulted in anything resembling reconciliation

DAVE: which i think

DAVE: was something i kinda needed

DAVE: but didnt realize it

DAVE: so....

DAVE: thank you for being a really plausible stand in for him who i could rip to shreds??

DAVE: while still being basically innocent of all that terrible garbage

DAVE: so you end up sorta being like an avatar for him that is much easier to forgive

DAVE: i mean

DAVE: maybe FORGIVE isnt the right word because im not sure he deserves that and anyway it doesnt matter because hes been dead for years and at this point is just an irrelevant deceased weirdo who doesnt matter anymore

DAVE: i guess i mean coming around to a place where i dont have to feel rotten all the time anymore

DAVE: and i guess im lucky i got to blunder into a reality that just happened to have the exact right version of a dude which made that possible for me

DAVE: sorry this fuckin ramble is really getting away from me

DAVE: i have no idea if im making sense anymore

DIRK: I think I get it.

DIRK: And sure.

DIRK: You're welcome for me existing.

DAVE: hey can that be like

DAVE: the motto on our family crest

DIRK: I think it already is.

DAVE: all that melodramatic sadbabble aside

DAVE: i think its perfectly cool if youre still curious about your adult self

DAVE: and i dont mind tellin you more stuff about him if you want

DAVE: i know im still wondering about what my adult self got up to

DIRK: Yeah.

DIRK: Well like I said, any time you want to know more, feel free to ask.

DAVE: kay how about

DAVE: we do this thing

DAVE: when i met roxy we did a thing

DIRK: A thing?

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: its called the lightning round

DIRK: That does sound like a Roxy thing.

DIRK: Does it by any chance involve asking a rapid-fire series of questions, some of which end up being a bit too personal or invasive?

DAVE: well yeah when she does it

DAVE: we could be chill though

DAVE: when it comes to asking about each others secret crushes and shit

DIRK: Then I guess I will disclaim in advance that I don't have any, and I don't care about yours even if you do.

DAVE: it is settled then on the fact that we are a couple of cool dudes who know where to draw the line on certain topics

DIRK: Cool.

DIRK: So how do we start.

DIRK: Whose lightning round is this, mine or yours?

DAVE: it can be yours go ahead shoot

DIRK: Ok.

DIRK: How...

DIRK: Did...

DIRK: He, um,

DIRK: Come to "adopt" you?

DAVE: i was a baby and i came down to earth on a meteor while riding a pony with a pink heart on its ass

DAVE: he found me in a crater on top of a dead pony and gave me a lil baby pair of shades that look exactly like the ones youre wearin now

DIRK: I see.

DIRK: So you decided to ditch those shades for the aviator glasses?

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: years ago john got me these for my bday

DAVE: it might have been like an "ironic dare" to wear them i dont remember

DAVE: but when i got em i was like hell yeah im wearing these

DAVE: gonna rock these fuckers til the end of time

DAVE: they were ben stillers

DAVE: like literally

DAVE: they actually touched his weird sort of gaunt face in one of his films

DIRK: Wait...

DIRK: THE Stiller?

DAVE: yeah

DIRK: Incredible.

DIRK: Also, such a shame what happened to that poor man.

DAVE: wait what happened to him

DIRK: I can tell you when it's your lightning round.

DIRK: Or mine. Whatever. I'm still not sure whose lightning round it is when you're the one asking questions.

DAVE: dunno ask roxy

DIRK: Ok. Anyway, didn't mean to interrupt.

DAVE: but yeah we would send each other stuff sometimes

DAVE: me and john

DAVE: well we all would

DAVE: usually absurd birthday packages and such

DIRK: We did that too.

DIRK: Except I had to send things through time.

DIRK: Always had to figure out stuff small enough to send through the sendificator, even if it was piece by piece.

DAVE: nice

DAVE: one time it turned out we ACCIDENTALLY sent presents through time

DAVE: i mean not literally, more in a roundabout way

DAVE: we all sent john a rabbit

DAVE: but all three rabbits just turned out to be the same damn rabbit

DAVE: because of stupid time shit

DIRK: Once I deliberately and quite literally sent a rabbit through time.

DIRK: It was a robot.

DAVE: wow

DIRK: He was a loyal friend to Jane. I don't know what happened to him though.

DAVE: yeah i dunno what happened to johns rabbits either

DAVE: rabbits am i right

DIRK: I hear you, man.

DAVE: what next

DIRK: Hm.

DIRK: You say he owned Cal as well?

DAVE: yep

DIRK: Did he come down to Earth on a meteor with Cal too?

DAVE: i think so

DAVE: that was a long time ago

DAVE: kinda weird to imagine him strutting around with that puppet as a kid in the 80s

DAVE: or maybe just kinda funny actually

DAVE: he sure held on to it a long time

DAVE: must have gotten attached at a really early age and just never let go

DAVE: i guess you fell to earth with one of those things too?

DIRK: Yeah.

DIRK: But if I came to Earth on a meteor the same way you all did, then I guess I just got dunked right in the fucking ocean.

DIRK: Which makes sense. One of my earliest memories is of using Cal as a flotation device.

DIRK: So he sorta saved my life in a way. I guess I bonded with him too, the way your bro did, even if that sounds a bit stupid.

DIRK: Then again, it didn't help matters much that I lived alone in the middle of the ocean. He was my only real life friend. I mean, until I built some new ones.

DAVE: hmm wait we fucked up

DAVE: i asked you a question its not my turn

DAVE: keep firing

DIRK: Ok.

DIRK: How did your bro die?

DAVE: he died fighting one of these jacks

DAVE: at this point i almost forget which one

DAVE: no wait

DAVE: ok yeah it was the omnipotent dog one

DAVE: the jack from our session

DAVE: he was fighting like a lesser form of him and then jack got extra prototyped by dog powers and then got outmatched and stabbed with his own sword

DAVE: pretty sure davesprite was fighting with him and almost died too but then it turned out he didnt

DAVE: but now im at least 99% sure that davesprite is DEFINITELY dead and wont suddenly reappear as a stupid surprise or anything

DIRK: I hate stupid surprises.

DAVE: word

DIRK: So, you said he "trained" you.

DIRK: I'm guessing that means he knew what was coming?

DIRK: Or, some things about your future, at least?

DAVE: seems that way

DAVE: not sure what he knew or how he knew it

DAVE: all our guardians seemed to know bits and pieces of stuff and did vague mysterious things to prepare

DAVE: to this day i have no idea if he was training me to fight lord english or if he even knew who that guy was on any conscious level

DAVE: or it was more like general purpose training to be able to survive some hard shit after the end of the world happened

DAVE: youd have to ask him but thats impossible

DAVE: i do know he managed to get the drop on a meteor before i entered the game

DIRK: What?

DAVE: as far as i can tell he stood on top of it and split it in half with his sword

DIRK: Um,

DIRK: Not to be too much of a wet blanket on that rad as fuck anecdote, but that sounds kind of far fetched.

DAVE: yeah it does doesnt it

DAVE: but then again so does a baby getting dunked from space in the ocean then floating on a weird doll and then growin up by himself with no adults around

DIRK: That's not far fetched. It was pretty straightforward.

DIRK: I think I just found a building poking out of the water, climbed up, then I just started foraging for food in there like a feral infant.

DIRK: Supplies which I'm sure your adult self must have left behind for me, seeing as he clearly must have known some things about the future too.

DIRK: Speaking of which, maybe it's your turn now?

DAVE: yeah ok

DAVE: questions about me hmm lets see

DAVE: ok FIRST the fuck of all

DAVE: what happened to ben stiller

DIRK: He was deemed a heretic, and was crucified on the Washington Monument by some clowns.

DAVE: wow

DIRK: Due to his dedication to freedom and peace, he came to be seen as a martyr, and then a holy figure.

DIRK: He was left on the monument as an example to all, but thousands of faithful gathered below to gaze up at his pious, sort of gaunt face.

DIRK: For years thereafter, his followers would carve stone busts of him in his memory, capturing the piercing glare of his final expression.

DIRK: But they were all smashed to pieces by the presidential church.

DIRK: That religious movement didn't last very long.

DIRK: Rumor has it the batterwitch had a lot of experience crushing righteous insurrections.

DAVE: did my adult self get pissed about stiller

DAVE: i bet he got pissed

DIRK: Yeah. There was a whole series of final insults that led to his active rebellion, instead of just producing subversive media.

DIRK: At one point, the witch "remastered" all of his films to clean up all the shitty artifacts, and released them in stunning high-def quality all over the world, using a rational business model and everything.

DIRK: That REALLY set him off.

DAVE: what the fuck

DAVE: how fucking dare that woman

DAVE: so then he tried to kill the batterwitch right

DAVE: who is the same exact alien as the condesce in this session??

DIRK: Yes. Same one.

DIRK: And yeah, he teamed up with Rose from the same era.

DIRK: They supposedly put up a good fight, but both died.

DAVE: so...

DAVE: does john know that he is literally about to go fight betty crocker yet or what

DIRK: I have no idea.

DIRK: I really don't know John at all, or any of your friends.

DIRK: I know Jane was the heiress to the Crocker brand. Uh, obviously? It is her name after all.

DIRK: Was John the heir to that empire in his universe?

DAVE: nah

DAVE: i mean not to my or his knowledge

DAVE: he just fuckin hated that company for some reason

DAVE: i think his reason was literally as mundane as just being slightly overexposed to cake

DAVE: thats classic john though he doesnt get pissed about anything except for the absolute dumbest shit

DAVE: but i guess his instincts were right in this case

DAVE: maybe we should just

DAVE: not tell him

DAVE: that hes fightin crocker i think the poor dude has probably had enough mental breakdowns for one adventure

DAVE: we all have

DIRK: I'd like to get to know him.

DIRK: Not to mention Rose and Jade. Would have been nice to hang out and chat, in a circumstance where we weren't supposed to prepare for an imminent deadly struggle.

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: well i guess we could have hung out there a few minutes longer

DAVE: i mean you wouldnt have got much outta jade who is stuck in perma-nap mode

DAVE: just like old times i guess

DIRK: Huh?

DAVE: she used to sleep a lot

DIRK: Ah.

DAVE: but yeah there wasnt much time except for like a bunch of heys and oh nice to meet yous

DAVE: and also i think i would have still been a shitty train wreck socially if we all just hunkered down right then and there for another extensive round of freestyle paltalk

DIRK: Right, I was kind of nervous about lingering there for more than a minute too.

DIRK: Mainly because of Jake.

DIRK: I didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

DIRK: I think I have done enough of that.

DAVE: i guess jake was kinda like your john of the group huh

DAVE: wait that was a pretty dumb observation never mind

DIRK: Nah, sounds about right.

DIRK: Seems like John was your close buddy growing up, and Jake was mine.

DAVE: john and i never really had anything like a falling out

DAVE: except for not talkin to each other for a few years on account of being on a meteor and boat respectively

DAVE: but i guess you two had some buddy troubles or somethin?

DIRK: Yes. A lot of buddy troubles.

DIRK: I vaguely touched on it earlier. I was a really bad influence in his life.

DAVE: what happened

DIRK: A lot of things, that were mostly my fault.

DIRK: Basically, I think I bullied him into dating me.

DIRK: Although I had plenty of "help" from my Auto-Responder.

DIRK: There were a lot of insane plans that he hatched on my behalf.

DIRK: But in fairness, I went along with them.

DIRK: To this day, I can't really tell how much of that bullshit was his doing, and how much was mine, which I've just covered up through denial or selective memory.

DAVE: wait

DAVE: you

DAVE: you dated jake?

DIRK: Yeah.

DIRK: That didn't last long though.

DIRK: It was really lopsided and kind of forced.

DAVE: ...

DAVE: so

DAVE: you

DAVE: ...

DAVE: hmm

DIRK: What?

DAVE: nothing

DAVE: i think were breakin one of the rules here

DAVE: this tangent got too personal

DIRK: Oh yeah.

DIRK: I forgot we weren't doing that.

DIRK: Anyway, carry on. You were asking about adult Dave?

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: so that covers how he died

DAVE: taking a futile stand against some unbeatable foe

DAVE: cant say im too surprised about that cause what else is even new

DAVE: what about his early life though

DAVE: guess i arrived around the same year my bro did in my universe?

DAVE: just came down on the same dead horse i rode in on

DAVE: into a world full of opportunities

DAVE: how did i get started

DIRK: His early life isn't well documented.

DIRK: There's hardly anything to read about him until he broke into show business with a few obscure projects at the turn of the century.

DIRK: It all snowballed from there.

DAVE: i guess the one thing we know for sure is i didnt find a kid in a crater and take him under my wing

DAVE: that was probably for the best

DIRK: Heh.

DAVE: actually maybe its better that most of his story is left to my imagination

DAVE: kinda like how you said you spent a lot of time thinkin about him

DAVE: filling in the gaps of his ridiculous exploits

DIRK: Right.

DIRK: There's certainly a lot of lore to work with.

DIRK: Urban legends and stuff.

DAVE: like what

DAVE: actually wait

DAVE: dont tell me

DAVE: at least not now maybe down the road it would be cool to hear some

DAVE: i think id prefer to fill in the blanks myself for a while

DAVE: really it sounds dope as hell to imagine that sort of blank canvas life

DAVE: dropped on earth as a kid in the 70s or 80s or whatever with no bossy adult to reel me in

DAVE: and just having to figure stuff out

DAVE: especially knowing that many years later it all worked out ok

DAVE: really wonder what i did

DAVE: was i like some homeless eighties ragamuffin???

DAVE: jesus christ that sounds fairly adorable if so

DAVE: maybe i slept in an alley on a bed of rubix cubes and alf merchandise

DAVE: or maybe i offered my old school rap services for food

DIRK: Like, through a shitty cardboard booth?

DIRK: You know, like the one from the fuckin' Charlie Brown comics.

DIRK: "This is what the refrance," FYI.

DAVE: yes exactly

DAVE: this sounds like exactly the life for me

DAVE: what if without a penny to my name and the wind at my back i hopped a boxcar to the big apple

DAVE: because as a dumb child i naively believed thats where they made all the apple juice

DAVE: id be sorely disappointed when i got there but it wouldnt matter because id probably scrape together a living on off off off broadway like...

DAVE: making shitty cartoons

DAVE: on stage

DAVE: and saying

DAVE: you guys

DAVE: this will be SO much funnier once the internet happens TRUST ME

DAVE: then the aristocratic patrons of fine theater just shrug and dump their shillings into my orphan hat

DIRK: It sounds to me like you've been reading up on the urban legends already.

DAVE: hahaha

DAVE: i wonder if he had like

DAVE: friends

DIRK: It sounds like he knew a lot of people, at least later in life.

DAVE: sure

DAVE: i mean im sure he knew rose at some point because obviously they teamed up

DAVE: but as fairly old people?

DAVE: it sounds as though they only knew each other as a result of their notability

DIRK: This seems likely.

DAVE: i mean more like the friends i grew up with

DAVE: he couldnt have grown up with john or jade as friends because they were already old by the time he got there

DAVE: this cool 80s kid fantasy was probably just a lot lonelier than ive been picturing in my sweet daydreams

DAVE: i didnt even have the MAYOR god what a nightmare now that i think about it

DAVE: i wonder if all he cared about was making ludicrous shit and fighting evil pastry moguls

DAVE: do you know if he had any other interests

DIRK: Like what?

DAVE: i dont know

DAVE: did you ever read any urban legends about.....

DAVE: paleontology

DIRK: Paleontology?

DAVE: yes the scientific study of dead shit

DIRK: Not that I recall.

DAVE: hmm

DAVE: i guess he probably didnt do anything with that

DAVE: what a shame

DAVE: maybe he never even got the idea since he had completely different experiences

DAVE: but if i were suddenly dropped back in the 20th century id probably look into it at some point

DAVE: i dunno how though

DAVE: i think it would be mainly like

DAVE: some sort of theraputic interest

DAVE: something relaxing to think about instead of a bunch of ironic and stupidly ambitious objectives

DIRK: Yeah, like the porn bots.

DAVE: yeah exactly

DIRK: Maybe some day, when we're both old men, you can live a quiet life tending to your fossils, and I will do the same with my dear collection of simple-minded chat robots fixated on puppet ass.

DAVE: sounds like the fucking life to me

DIRK: What was the lightning round question this stemmed from again?

DIRK: I forget.

DAVE: dunno

DAVE: maybe were tapering off with the lightning round stuff anyway and its just naturally deteriorating into regular dudechat

DIRK: Maybe.

DIRK: You sure you don't have anything else before we say it's officially deteriorated?

DAVE: k heres a curveball

DAVE: what the fuck are you wearing

DIRK: My prince gear.

DIRK: You know. Leggings, slippers, the poofy asshole pants, a hood with some sort of cloth tiara deal embedded in it.

DIRK: Basic stuff for princes, apparently.

DAVE: huh

DAVE: gotta say

DAVE: some of these god tier ensembles really are...

DAVE: something

DIRK: I thought I hated it at first.

DIRK: But over the couple hours I spent flying back, with time to think about all sorts of stuff...

DIRK: It kinda grew on me.

DIRK: The asshole pants are pretty damn comfortable, so I dunno if I even care how stupid they look.

DIRK: And I *am* kind of an asshole, after all. So who am I to complain.

DAVE: i thought the same thing about my cape outfit at first

DAVE: felt like some bozo from the renaissance festival

DAVE: like maybe i should get on a horse and sing a shitty ballad

DAVE: but then it grew on me pretty quickly

DAVE: hardly ever took it off in three years

DAVE: youre right its comfortable and theyre fuckin magic pajamas or whatever and they start to feel like part of who you are after long enough

DAVE: i mean they are supposed to last you forever right

DAVE: kinda by definition since they come along with immortality

DAVE: maybe part of their magical nature includes this insidious quality where they grow on you

DAVE: or not i dunno maybe this is bullshit and ill just wear some normal person clothes when this is all over

DAVE: what about you are you gonna wear god duds forever

DIRK: Nah. I'm sure I'll wear regular stuff again at some point.

DIRK: If a shirt with a hat on it can be deemed regular.

DAVE: im cool with deeming it as such

DAVE: yeah maybe youre right and we should all stop dressing like tools from an infinite magic slumber party for floundering teens

DAVE: and just look like standard floundering teens

DAVE: some of the getups are pretty out there

DAVE: jakes tho...

DAVE: uh

DAVE: damn??

DIRK: I...

DIRK: Yeah.

DIRK: That page costume.

DIRK: I'd have commented on it, except that would've been casting a stone through a particularly fragile glass wardrobe.

DIRK: So... I just flew away.

DAVE: yeah there was uh

DAVE: some palpable awkwardness there

DIRK: Hm.

DAVE: sorry im still

DAVE: tryin to

DAVE: like

DAVE: wrap my head around

DAVE: ...

DIRK: What?

DAVE: uh

DAVE: dammit

DAVE: ok i guess i might have to break one of our lightning round rules

DAVE: only a little tho

DAVE: i hope

DIRK: About what?

DIRK: The personal stuff?

DAVE: yeah

DIRK: That's fine.

DAVE: ok maybe im not even asking you anything

DAVE: maybe this is just a starting point to ramble to myself

DAVE: on a certain topic

DAVE: i think...

DAVE: there is a SLIGHT chance...

DAVE: i may be the biggest idiot in the world

DIRK: ?

DAVE: when it comes to understanding some things about my bro

DAVE: some pieces i never really put together

DAVE: about him

DAVE: until maybe literally right now

DAVE: which i think makes me an objective dumbass

DIRK: What does this have to do with me and Jake?

DAVE: idk

DAVE: nothin

DAVE: maybe i dont wanna ask you anything about jake

DAVE: maybe ill just keep abiding by the code of basic dude manners on that

DAVE: if i bother skirtin the line of this rule maybe id rather ask you other stuff instead

DIRK: Like what?

DAVE: like

DAVE: um

DAVE: say one of your best friends is a knucklehead you havent seen in three years

DAVE: and unless you use ultra direct and explicit language he just wont put two and two together himself

DAVE: and also say ANOTHER best friend is a girl you feel like you had kind of a special relationship with but you ALSO hadnt seen in three years

DAVE: and shes asleep

DAVE: but at some point shell wake up and youll have to talk to her

DIRK: ...

DAVE: this is dumb im not making any sense

DAVE: lemme start over

DAVE: ok lets say

DAVE: way back whenever

DAVE: howww

DAVE: ...

DAVE: how did you tell your friends

[bippot]

Doppel

Story Summary -> Working with his wife usually comes easy to Spencer but when a woman identical to her is found dead, it becomes a little bit harder to deal with. Especially when she's determined to find the guy by whatever means she has at her disposal.

Tags -> Married Couple, Fluff and Smut, Kidnapping, Serial Killers, Canon-Typical Violence, Spencer Reid Needs a Hug, Brief weight gain mention, Pregnancy, Reader is a Member of the BAU (Criminal Minds), Protectiveness, Angst with a Happy Ending

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In all her time of knowing him, Y/N had never seen Spencer be rageful. He was annoyed by small minded cops constantly. Any case that had anything to do with kids caused everyone to be on edge. And he had a sore spot whenever schizophrenia came up in conversation.

He was kind and gentle and frequently had a smile on his face whenever she needed a friendly face, but Y/N knew that deep down, there was a sadness lurking in his soul. He was a lonely man at his core so she tried her very best to make sure she always was there to listen whenever he wanted to rant and tell her facts and vomit word soup out in the open.

Sure, the fact that he was cute was a factor in Y/N's interest in her coworker's words. But it was his genuine need to use that big ol' brain of his to help other people out that really captured her attention. He had a big heart to go along with his big brain, that's why he was so special.

And why she fell in love with him.

"Sorry, one of the officers cornered me and forced me to endure a way too long conversation about bitcoin and now your coffee is getting cold," Y/N announced as she placed Spencer's drink on the desk in front of him. He immediately pulled his focus away from the papers he'd been staring at and shifted it to his wife, causing his entire being to go from slouching down in his chair to perking up in attention.

"How did you get away?" he asked her with a gleam in his eye.

Y/N sat down on the edge of the desk and shrugged. "His shift ended," she answered with a chuckle, taking a sip from her coffee and holding back a wince at how bitter it was.

Whilst she was making it, she had been faced with a decision - use up all the remaining sugar on Spencer's cup so he has it the way he likes or share the sugar between them both and have the one coffee she allowed herself to indulge in per day to taste better. Luckily, he didn't see her distaste for her coffee, or if did, he didn't mention it.

But she did notice when he made a face that she'd seen far too many times. His brows furrowed and crinkled his forehead. Y/N's hand brushed the back of his shoulder tenderly. "Migraine?"

"Just a headache right now."

"Do you want me to go get you anything?"

"No, no, I'm okay," he waved her off. "I'll be fine."

Bullshit. She knew him well enough to know that he was in more distress than he wanted to admit. She jumped off the desk, gave him a scratch right on the crown of his head, and moved to find her bag, rifling through it until she found what she was looking for with a satisfied, "Ah-ha!" Whatever Y/N had found was being shoved in Spencer's direction. He took it without looking, knowing exactly what it was from the crinkle and soft jingling sound that accompanied it, and popped the magnesium out of the packet and tipped a vitamin B gummy from the pot.

"Thank you, honey."

"It's my job to make sure my husband's brain doesn't explode," Y/N told him as he threw the gummy in his mouth. "You're welcome."

"I certainly am," Spencer replied with a cheeky grin, before taking a large gulp of his coffee. His wife rolled her eyes but couldn't resist smiling back.

By the time Y/N had finished her coffee, Hotch was calling for everyone to gather because there had been bodies found. The squad listened as Garcia gave them the update. Four bodies had been found, all of whom had very similar features. As he was watching the photos of the dead women pop up on the screen, Spencer's hand made it to his wife's back, curling her shirt into his fist. Y/N didn't seem to react. Not even when all of the team had looked at her as soon as they realised too.

The victim they'd deduced had been the first of this serial killer was a doppelganger of Y/N. The others looked similar but the first was almost identical to her. Same hair colour, same nose, same eyes, same smirk. There were a few obvious differences due to styling and body weight distribution but they could be sisters. Twins even. Well, at least Y/N knew what she'd look like after being strangled to death and dumped in a mass grave in the middle of nowhere. She never had wanted to know that. Now she did.

Whatever morbid curiosity she had, it had never got that detailed. Hotch knew that Y/N would be able to deal with this. However, he had no idea if Spencer would be. Judging by Reid's clenched jaw and the mortified look in his eyes, he wasn't dealing with being presented with an image of someone who looked like his wife dead in a ditch very well.

"I'll point out the elephant in the room," Y/N began before anyone could say it out loud. She gestured in the general direction of her face. "We could use this to our advantage."

Yeah, she'd been a decoy before and was prepared to do so again. Her situation was slightly different now though.

Spencer's head whipped up. A thousand million zillion alarm bells went off in his head, which was not very pleasant mixed with his headache. "Y/N..." he warned, his voice low and shaky.

"It's an option. That's all I'm saying."

"We'll try a more traditional approach at first, but it may be beneficial for us to keep Y/N out of the public eye just in case we need to go down that route," Hotch stated, which was met with some relief. Not much. Some. He turned fully towards Spencer. "Is that agreeable?"

Humming his agreement - though it didn't sound all that enthusiastic - Spencer was mostly quiet during their discussion about the unsub. The usual points were hit. The unsub is anti-social. He won’t look anyone in the eye. He’s not confident. He's a white male in the 30-45 range. He probably doesn't like his mummy. Spencer spoke up when he thought he had new insight that nobody else had brought up yet, but as soon as Hotch told everyone to get some sleep for the night, Spencer got the hell out of there.

Derek sighed. "Want me to cool him down?" He offered, bumping her in the shoulder with his own. Y/N shook her head and gave him a bump back.

"I will power through the silent treatment,"she told him, and he gave her a few seconds to change her mind before chuckling and stepping away.

Back in their hotel room, Spencer was in the shower when Y/N got back. He'd had a five minute head start and was not wasting that precious time, it seemed.

Officially, the FBI booked two rooms for the married couple as agents have their own rooms instead of sharing most of the time - unless the hotel is fully booked or they're in a romance novel and need to huddle for warmth - so whenever the squad touch down in a new city and settle in, there's a guarantee that one of the Reid's rooms are abandoned. It was a waste of company money.

Working together whilst married had been a weird thing in the beginning. There was a review of how effective Y/N and Reid were by the unit chief when they first declared themselves as a couple to HR, and then another conducted after their wedding. It was decided that there weren't any glaring problems with the two working together - they weren't half as flirty as Morgan and Garcia so maybe that helped them out a bit - so they were allowed to stay in the same unit. That report had said that Agent L/N's reckless nature often conflicted with Dr Reid's anxiousness. Which had been true enough. Sometimes those traits worked well together. Other times...

A pin drop could be heard as the couple got ready for bed. Y/N climbed into her side of the bed and Spencer into his. The room was dark and quiet, and in that silence, Spencer could hear the sound of his heart and that drum beat of terror, and it was almost as loud as a thunderstorm. Could she hear it too? Or was he just afraid that she could?.Both sat with their backs against the headboard, Y/N read her book quietly while Spencer stared into space and tried his best to ignore his wife. The silence stretched on and on, until finally, Spencer felt a hand on the back of his head and fingers softly stroking through his hair. He let out a sigh of relief.

Instantly, the drum in his head stopped. He pressed himself into her side, morphing his body to fit the contours of hers, and - without losing her spot on the page - she let her head tip downwards to give him a kiss on the crown of his head. It was a soft, brief peck and Spencer felt himself yearn for more. "Pay attention to me?" He whined.

An amused huff came from her nose and she placed her book on the bedside table so both hands were free to lavish him with so much petting and loving caresses that he began purring like a cat in no time.

"Better?"

"Much," he said, closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling of her warm fingers tracing patterns along his temples, his nose, his cheekbones. Her fingers moved to his chin and tilted it so she could give him a smooch, and Spencer thought he would melt at the pure sweetness of her lips on his.

"I love you," he said, and it felt so natural to say it. It felt so right.

"I know," she replied, sounding just as serious. "I love you too."

Spencer felt a shift in the atmosphere as the tension that had been there evaporated, leaving them to cuddle together and enjoy the rest of the night in each other's arms. Though the issue hadn't been solved, that was okay right now. They'd deal with that tomorrow or whenever it had to be dealt with. Not right now. Not before bed. They'd never gone to bed angry at each other and they weren't going to start today.

Despite seeing her dead doppelganger, Y/N fell asleep pretty quickly. Her husband was so warm at her side and the hotel pillow was so fluffy and comfortable that she was out like a light in no time. Spencer lay awake for a long time, his eyes staring at the ceiling, his thoughts racing as he traced a line from one of her hips to the other and back again over and over again, feeling the pouch of her stomach with the very tip of his finger, and his chest was tight with worry.

He didn't know why his mind kept going back to that photograph. Why would his brain choose to relive that? Did he want to torture himself that badly? Maybe if he stayed awake he would be able to protect her from anyone who even thought about hurting her. He'd catch this killer if it was the last thing he ever did.

"I can hear you thinking." His wife's sleepy voice interrupted his thoughts and Spencer let out a small groan. How long he'd been unravelling in his own brain, he had no idea, yet it was long enough for the hoarseness that she usually got after a nap to enter her voice. "Go to sleep, baby," she said. "You're going to be exhausted tomorrow."

"Can't."

"You can."

Y/N pulled his body so that he was fully on top of her and wrapped her arms around him. Spencer felt her start to move her hand up and down his spine in a gentle rhythm and her other hand cupped the back of his head, holding him close as she slowly rocked them side to side. She began to hum a tune, cradling him almost like he was a 6'2" big baby, and let him relax in her arms. It worked. It always did. Within minutes, he was snoring into her shoulder. He did that thing that men do when they suddenly spasm for no apparent reason because their body can't believe it's finally getting some down time, but eventually it evened out.

Once the early morning arrived, Y/N was beginning to stir. She awoke to the soft gentle presses of her husband's lips against the skin of her stomach, his head lifting up the bottom of her sleep shirt to plant a kiss on her belly. For the past month or so, she'd often woken up to him mumbling a hushed conversation to her abdomen. She'd pretended not to hear it and let him continue for as long as he wanted to, thoroughly enjoying his affection and the way it would send a shiver of pleasure straight through her body. And today was no different.

Only when it became clear that he wasn't planning on getting up anytime soon did she begin to move and acknowledge the fact that she was actually awake and aware. Massaging his shoulders, she cooed, "Morning handsome," and he mumbled something unintelligible as he buried his face in her stomach again, his stubble tickling the sensitive skin there.

Reid was not a morning person. Not in the slightest. Y/N had learned very early on that the best way to force him to get up in the morning was to get herself up and he would mimic her. It usually worked like a charm. But this morning, he'd trapped her legs beneath his body and was keeping her hips pinned to the mattress with his. This man was heavy. He was gangly and lanky and looked like a twig but could feel like a tonne of bricks when he wanted to. And he was trying to keep her pinned down, which meant he wanted something.

"Let me up, you big brute," she teased as she wriggled her hips to try to get away from him. Spencer laughed at her attempt and she gave up the moment his big hands landed on her hips to keep them still. He lifted his head up, the smile on his face making his eyes crinkle.

"Morning beautiful."

"I take it you're not ready to get up for work just yet?" He shook his head as he ran his hand up and down her waist, keeping his eyes on hers. "You know we'll have to eventually, right?"

"I do. I also know I'm going to have to be pretty convincing to get you to stay." He pressed a kiss to her navel. "But."

One more kiss placed just under the previous one on her abdomen. "I am."

Another on her pelvis. "Willing."

Two more, one on each thigh, his palms pushing her legs apart to give him more space to settle in the gap. "To. Be."

Finally, he let his lips fall to her underwear-covered pubic bone in the barest whisper of a kiss, one that set off a small firestorm of desire that shot straight to her core. "Very, very convincing."

At the beginning of their relationship, they'd come up with the rule that they wouldn't give in to their desire whilst on the job. When they first got together, that was mostly a way to make them seem as unsuspecting as possible. Their coworkers were profilers for god sake! Even the slightest smudge of her lipstick on the corner of his mouth and Derek would be giving Spencer a patronising clap on the back and a "My man."

Now it was out in the open, it was mainly a professional courtesy. It would look awful if two FBI agents comforted a grieving family with mussed hair and incorrectly buttoned shirts. There were exceptions, though. And why not? They had plenty of time before they were expected to show up at work. They were in the privacy of their hotel room with the nearest member of their team (Emily) six rooms away. The rule could be morphed into a suggestion, and it's easier to ignore suggestions.

"Can I convince you?" He let his lips curl upwards at the corners as he gave her a kiss over her underwear with an exaggerated 'mwah'. He added on a desperate sigh of "Please?" to seal the deal.

"You can try."

"Well then, lie back and enjoy yourself, Mrs Reid," he responded cheekily, pulling her underwear down her thighs and off in the general direction of her suitcase that sat by the dresser.

With that, he got to it. He started by licking and nipping at the inside of her thighs, making sure to get up higher with each bite until his lips touched her clit and he flicked it with his tongue. Her head fell back as she arched into his mouth, giving him better access to do whatever the hell he wanted to her. His hands cupped her butt, keeping her pressed up against his mouth as he worked her into a frenzy.

"Mrs Reid, you are so beautiful."

Her eyes fluttered shut as she let herself go. The pressure of his mouth, his hands, his stubble. Her man could make her come in no time at all. The more he gave her, the more she wanted. And the more she wanted, the more he gave her. It was a lovely cycle that gave them both what they wanted.

The slow slide of his fingers moved under her shirt and up to her bare breasts. He teased her nipples into hard points, his touch sure and demanding, and just was needed to make her moan out his name. "Spencer, oh god, Spence."

Thanks to one particularly forceful suck on her clit, Y/N was grabbing at Spencer's curls, trying to hold him to her while he drove her towards the edge. But it wasn't enough just yet.

"Fingers too, baby."

"Where are your manners, honey?"

"Jesus fucking christ, are you serious?" She huffed and had planned to fully argue some more but gave up almost immediately. "Fine! Please finger me, my loving husband."

"That is more like it."

He kept his eyes locked on hers as he used two fingers to part her folds and slip them inside of her. She was wet and ready for him, and he made quick work of finding her G-spot, mumbling a little "Ah, there it is," when she got a smidge louder. He curled his fingers at the same pace as his tongue swirled around her clit. It was a rough and slow rhythm that made her writhe and squirm.

"Can feel these legs shaking. You close, pretty girl? You want me to keep going, don't you?"

"Uh-huh, keep going."

"Tell me. Say it. Say it all pretty like you always do."

So, she did. Her voice was all breathy and whiny as she got out the words he wanted to hear. "You're so good, gonna cum, gonna cum. So good to me."

Y/N felt her orgasm catch up with her, her muscles tensing up as she was taken over by the wave of pleasure. It swept over her in seconds, stealing her breath and leaving her weak in the knees. She dug her nails into Spencer's shoulders, curling her toes into the bed to keep herself grounded as she felt the aftershocks ripple through her.

"Good job, baby," she praised, grinning down at him. "What's next on the agenda this morning?"

Spencer's smile was so goofy - looking as if he drunk off the taste of her, and maybe he was - as he moved himself back up the bed to kiss her neck, his grin making it impossible for the kisses to be anything but a press of teeth against soft skin. He kissed up and up and up until he reached her ear, whispering, "I’m not done with you yet, honey. If you ask me nicely, I'll fuck you so good," against the shell.

Whenever Spencer swore, it was always surprising to her. And when he swore like that, it sounded more dirty than if a frequently swearing man had done it. As if his mouth was filled with those words but had been pushing them down and down - they'd been sitting there for a while, just brewing - and in the wait, had grown a mind of their own.

"C'mon, Spence, get your cock out and put it in me already. I wanna feel you, please?" she asked, exaggerating the 'please' so he couldn't call her rude again.

"Yeah, you want more?" he teased, squeezing her ass in his big palm.

"Damn right, I do."

"I'll get right to it then, my pretty baby."

As he nuzzled his face into her neck, kissing the skin there, let her head fall back on the pillow, let out a giggle when he bit at her jaw and pushed his head away, laughing even harder when he tried to playfully bite her fingers.

"Weirdo."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But you're married to me so that makes you Mrs Weirdo by default. You signed yourself up for all this, honey."

"We should shower."

Tugging his boxers down, she gave him a light a slap on the ass, the sound of smack loud in the quiet of the room. "Married you just for the marital tax deduction," she joked, but she couldn't help but mischievously grin so he absolutely knew she was just messing around. Obviously she told him that she loved him lots yet he still struggled to comprehend that some days. So, she made sure whenever she teased him that he was fully aware that she didn't mean it.

"And I married you because I love you," he responded, far more sincerely than she had thought he would've, and positioned himself at her entrance, his cock jutting up against her, and she wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him in deep. "And I love making you feel good."

The slow, teasing pace of their foreplay was broken by his sudden, hard thrust as he entered her. It was so intense, and the way he held her hips pressed against his, grinding into her and pinning her to the bed with his weight, was so possessive and so deliberate that it left her breathless.

At first, it always took a moment - just a small one - where he rested his forehead on her shoulder and let them both adjust to the feeling of him inside her. But then, he was never one to rush, and he'd make sure they both felt entirely comfortable. And once they were, his hand gripped her ass cheek, and he pumped into her in a slow, steady rhythm. "I love fucking you, Y/N," he murmured, the words thick with feeling. "So goddamn perfect, you. I'm never letting you go."

It was a line he'd used on her a lot. I'm never letting you go. You are my world. My universe. My life. And I am yours, and you are mine. They were such simple statements but they said exactly what they needed to. Because she knew they were true.

Y/N wrapped her arms around his back, curling her body against his as he began to move, his thrusts getting more frantic and his kisses more desperate. Her fingernails dug into his back, and she arched her back in a desperate attempt to bring him closer, to feel him even deeper, to feel him harder. His breath was harsh, his face buried in the crook of her neck, his hands gripping the backs of her thighs and pulling them closer to her chest as he fucked her.

"I love you so much, Y/N. You're my everything. You're my... my..." he trailed off, hitting a hard thrust into her. " You're my life. I can't believe I get to wake up every morning next to you. Let's quit our jobs and stay in bed forever, you and me. Just you and me. Don't you want that? Don't you want that more than anything?"

One thing is for certain, he'd go mad if he had no cases to figure out like a sinister rubix cube. But Y/N, well, she'd often thought about what her life would be like if she left the BAU behind. Profiling was in the very fabric of Spencer's DNA, and without his cases, he'd be lost.

"Forever in bed with you, baby? I'll take it."

"Uh-huh, you take it, honey," he mumbled into her skin, his hips hitting a spot that sent a shockwave of delight through her core. "You take it so good."

A whimper escaped her lips as he increased his tempo, his hips slamming against her in a way that made her feel cherished, like she was his only source of joy in their hectic, difficult life. Y/N arched her back, her orgasm building, her body tensing, every muscle tightening in anticipation. They were both so close, so desperate for each other, that Spencer used his one hand to keep his wife's ankle over his shoulder and the other was pushing her thigh as far open as her flexibility allowed to get as deep as he physically could inside of her. "Baby, I'm going to..." he managed to say, his voice strained, his breathing heavy.

Then, with a final thrust, he came. Not just the usual orgasmic feeling that came with a good fuck, but a burst of energy so strong it knocked the breath out of her and sent her tumbling over the edge of pleasure, falling into a blissful, fucked out headspace for the next however many minutes.

Spencer collapsed on top of her, every muscle in his body tingling. "That was..." he couldn't even believe it. "So good. I'm not sure I'll ever top that." He laughed, a full-body, carefree sound that was the best thing she'd ever heard. Y/N laughed, too, watching as he rolled off of her and onto his back, his hair falling in a ruffled, sexy mess around his face. It was impossible to resist running her fingers through his hair, the feeling of his thick, curly locks against her hand so comforting, so calming.

"I thought you wanted to quit our jobs and stay in bed forever?" Y/N parroted his words back to him, rolling onto her side to face him.

"We smell of sex." He got out of bed and held his hands out to his wife to help her to her feet. "Come on, stinky."

By the time they were showered and dressed, none of their coworkers would know how Spencer had made her go briefly brain dead that very morning.

This case wasn't solved on their first visit. The unsub had either been tipped off or was closely following the investigation and went dormant for enough time that Hotch moved them on, which wasn't an unusual thing to happen. It was annoying, though.

There was some guy out there whose perfect victim was Y/N. Even as they got on with their lives and solved other cases, that fact remained in the back of Spencer's head. He couldn't forget it - mostly because he doesn't forget anything - but he knew that if he hadn't been born with this gift, that it would be the same. With this guy still out in the world, Y/N was in danger every time she went out in public. It was hard to breathe while he was thinking about that.

Two months later, the unsub killed again and the team was brought back. This time Spencer was determined to find him.

The same officer who'd lectured her about bitcoin once again cornered Y/N, but this time, she had her husband by her side. Previously, he'd been a little pushy but once Y/N had told him that she was in a relationship, he backed off. Now, he greeted her with, "I remember you being slimmer."

What? Did he think that was an acceptable way to say hello?

"Funny, I have an eidetic memory - that means I remember just about anything I deem important - and I don't remember you. Weird," Spencer shot back, his tone icy.

Instantly, the officer's jaw dropped. "I, um, I just - "

"We've been on the jet for the past few hours, mind giving us some space?" Spencer suggested and the officer flushed a bright red, backing off immediately. Y/N caught Spencer's eye and gave him a quick squeeze on the bicep to say thanks, and was rewarded with a wink that was far too flirty for a work environment.

Garcia gave them another rundown of the case, briefly going over what they had before and adding the new revelations at the end. The killer had fucked up. The most recent victim had bite marks on her shoulder so they had a very good insight at what the killer's teeth looked like. Whoever he was, he was missing his top canines and if they were to look into his mouth, there would be an obvious gap.

Part way through Garcia's rundown Spencer very subtly reached into his pocket, pulled out a granola bar and slid it towards his wife. She ate it with a smug little smile on her face.

"That's new," Emily pointed out. "There was no bite mark at the last crime scene."

"Biting as a form of attack is usually used as an act of self defence," Derek added.

Hotch let out a gruff noise, one that was toneless and no indicator of whether he thought that was a correct assumption or not. He had a talent for that - bland, unemotional responses that encourages more discussion without leaning the conversation one way or the other.

"That would only make sense if the marks were inflicted perimortem or pre-mortem, but judging by the lack of redness and blood splatter around the puncture of the skin, this bite was done post mortem," Spencer explained, gesturing with the tip of his pen at the area around the teeth marks.

"This guy has escalated to biting his victim's after he's killed them, why?" Y/N posed the question once she'd finished chewing and the room was silent for a second before Rossi spoke up.

"A killer I interviewed back in the early 90's did the same thing. For him, he believed he was absorbing the life essences from his victims, he was consuming what little of them remained when he bit them."

Emily let out a bitter scoff. "Even after taking their lives, it's still not enough for this guy. He needs to annihilate what's left of their soul."

"Maybe he thinks he's collecting souls for the afterlife like how Zodiac believed his victim's would become his slaves once he passed on?" Y/N thought out loud and the room went still, all of them thinking it simultaneously.

"Whatever the case, the guy is a freak," Derek stated, and they all nodded in agreement because yeah. He was a freak.

Just before they'd gone off into their own research teams, Hotch called put, "Y/N, would you mind holding back a few minutes? I need to speak with you," and although she knew she hadn't done anything to warrant a stern talking to, it still felt like being sent to the principal's office.

"I'll catch up with you in a sec, Spence."

Closing the door once Spencer was on the other side, Hotch sighed. "I know what your answer will be but I feel obligated to ask, do you want to give this one a miss?"

Y/N looked over at him and the corners of her mouth turned up just a little. "You think I'm going soft, Aaron?" She teased, and he grinned at her.

"I know Reid's been giving you an earful."

"He always does."

Something that sounded like a chuckle came from Hotch's throat but it died before it could fully form as his eyes caught the opened case file on the desk, the photo of Y/N's dead doppelganger paperclipped in the corner of the page. "And if we run out of options?"

"As long as you can guarantee that I can blame everything on you so Spencer doesn't stay mad at me for the next year, I'm still up for being a decoy," she clarified. "We've got to catch this guy."

"I will take the blame."

"You better."

Eventually, they found everything about the guy. Garcia cross referenced this with that and then that with this to find out the guy's name was Leyton Hart, his father died when he was young and his mother was an addict who he was still living with despite the fact he was raised mostly by his next door neighbour, a young girl that was only a few years older than him. This neighbour, who they became aware was once called Isla Wiley, was the first victim. She was Y/N's doppelganger.

Infuriatingly, the only thing they couldn't find was where the hell he was now. He wasn't at home, nor at the smart car customer help desk he worked at. They checked his credit cards, they tried calling his cell, they checked with his boss and his mum, nothing.

"You think he's left the area?" Derek asked.

"It's not impossible," Emily replied. "He went dormant for months once we'd caught his scent, he may be prepared to do it again."

Spencer began, "If we could draw him out -" and stopped as soon as his brain caught up with his mouth. He cleared his throat. "Ignore that."

Rossi could see the silent conversation Y/N and Hotch were having and decided that he'd be the bad guy in this scenario to save both of them from doing it. "No, that could work, Reid. And we have an asset to do so," David announced, readying himself for whatever was about to happen to happen.

"Y/N is not an asset, she is a person! And we can't risk a member of our team in the hopes of catching this guy! Her being on this case is risky enough as it is!"

Reid's chest was rising and falling faster as he tried to keep his temper in check. His vision was getting more red by the second. His fingers were drumming against the table. The blood was rushing to his ears. He felt sick.

"We are not risking my wife's safety to catch this guy!"

Y/N rested her hand over Spencer's, her middle finger tracing over his wedding ring. "This could be our best shot," she said quietly, and he knew at that exact moment that the subject had been brought up with her beforehand and she hadn't mentioned it to him.

He felt sicker than he'd ever felt in his life.

"I don't care!"

"Spencer," Y/N said sternly, her tone made it very clear she was warning him to stop and think about this before he said something he couldn't take back. She squeezed his fingers gently, her thumb rubbing along his knuckles before he whipped his hand away.

"God, I can't believe you're putting this before everything else."

"We could save a bunch more women. Think of the families, Spencer. We have a chance to give them some peace."

"What about my family? Do you really think I'm going to just -" He was shaking his head as he spoke, trying his best to find a way to reason with her, to convince her to stop. He knew he was failing. And because he was failing, he decided to take himself out of the situation before he said something drastic and lost his job. "You know what, good luck, honey. I'll be waiting for you if you come home."

And he walked out of the conference room, slamming the door behind him. Y/N rubbed at her eyes, taking a few deep breaths and letting out a groan. "Well, that went spectacularly," she mumbled, then rubbed her neck as she looked over at Hotch. "Sorry about that."

"He'll come around," Morgan said.

Prentiss agreed. "Eventually."

"If I had to guess, putting this bozo behind bars will speed that process up." Rossi reached across the desk and patted Y/N affectionately on the hand. "Trust me, I've been married enough times by now to know."

Raising an eyebrow, Hotch posed the question 'Are you still on board with this?' with just his face and only confirmed, "Let's start planning," when she nodded.

While the squad figured out the details, Y/N went in search of her husband. They may have differing opinions on what should go down but she still wanted to comfort him and make sure he was okay. She found him in the back seat of their hire car outside eating a sandwich, taking big aggressive bites, and staring off into the parking lot bush in front of the windscreen. He didn't even look up when he heard her open the door and sit in the seat on the other side of the car. He chewed, swallowed, and kept on looking.

Wordlessly, she slid across to the middle seat and let her head fall onto his shoulder. He didn't move, just kept on chewing, his Adam's apple bobbing as it swallowed the last of his food. After a while, he sighed and leaned back in the seat, resting his head on the headrest as he closed his eyes.

"I know you're worried, baby," she said softly, stroking his arm to get a little more of his attention. "But I can do it, and I will. I don't need you to protect me but I'm very touched that you did. Thank you for looking out for me."

"You're welcome," he replied bitterly. "I'd say you're all set to go then, yeah?"

"Babe..."

She smiled sadly, cradling his head in her palm. He'd been through a lot in his life, she knew that. She'd been there for a lot of it. A lot had gone on back when they were just pals. And even more had happened now they were something different. Going off the basis of his experiences, his concern was fully warranted.

"I'm so selfish. I care about you and I love you and I don't want anyone to touch a hair on your head. This guy... this guy shouldn't get to breathe the same air you do after what he's done." He opened his eyes and finally focused on her, the light of the setting sun illuminating his face in such a way that it made him look like a sad angel. "I can't lose you too, baby."

"If I don't, more women will die."

"If you die, my entire world ends," he choked out, his entire face contorted with misery. "It would be like the sun went out. As if I was a pontifex and my Goddess had been suddenly ripped from my hands, and there was nothing I could do about it."

Obviously, she couldn't guarantee her survival. They both knew that. Y/N closed her eyes and held her breath, trying not to cry as she felt him grip on her jacket, digging his fingers into her elbow as if to anchor her there. She couldn't bring herself to say anything though. She could hear the anguish in his voice, the horror of it, and it was all her fault for being born with the face she had.

The hand on her elbow moved down to find her hip as he pulled her closer into him, resting on her stomach when he was satisfied with the lack of space between them. She rested her head against his shoulder and let herself feel his pain.

"We'll get him," she whispered. "We'll catch this bastard. And we'll get through this."

Tilting her chin up, she caught his lips with hers in a gentle kiss and held on for just a moment before pulling back. "You had a club sandwich," she pointed out playfully, tasting what was left on his lips and feeling her smile broaden. "Making me kinda hungry."

"Let's go get you some lunch."

Before she had comprehended what he said, he was getting out and moving into the driver's seat. They left to get some food - getting in an order for what everyone else on the team wanted whilst they were there - and smoothed out their emotional spikes to settle into a more stable state to prepare for later on.

Then later came. Y/N had been dressed up in an outfit similar to one that Isla had been photographed in - a stripy shirt, denim dungaree and espadrilles - and told to phone the customer service desk for the smart car they'd given her for breakdown help. Once Leyton Hart, who'd managed to reroute the calls that were supposed to go to his work computer to his personal cell, had confirmed that he was on his way to the secluded patch of road Y/N had 'broken down' at, it was a waiting game.

Most of the team were not that far away, around 30 yards behind a thicket of trees. Far enough away to not be seen if he wasn't looking too hard and close enough that they'd be able to make it to help Y/N out in a minute if she needed it.

Sitting in the car, Y/N listened to the hum of the radio and let her legs dangle off the seat and out into the opened door, swinging them to the beat until Penelope warned her, "Incoming!" through comms and she stopped immediately. Y/N could feel him coming, sense him even though she couldn't see him just yet. "Here we go," Penny told the others, keeping her voice low and her eyes glued on the road ahead as his pickup truck came into view.

There was no mistaking the man in the truck. Y/N's gut twisted and she tasted bile in the back of her throat at the sight of him as he got out of the truck and strode towards her. She painted a smile on her face, greeting him with a friendly, "Hi, you are a lifesaver! This stupid car just -"

Before she could finish her sentence, he did something they never predicted he'd do and whacked her in the temple with a ratchet wrench. Y/N's body went limp and she slumped into Leyton's waiting arms as her vision went dark.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT!" was all Spencer could manage to get out of his mouth as he ran forward to reach her before she was placed in the back of the truck. Hotch raced after him and managed to tackle him to the grass before Leyton noticed them, which would compromise Y/N even further.

Spencer's worst fears were becoming a reality. A serial killer just drove off with the love of his life and his boss had prevented him from intervening.

However much time later, Y/N winced herself awake and looked blearily around. She had no idea how long she'd been out, but she knew for sure she was not in a good situation. She had a throbbing headache and her neck was sore from being arched over for what felt like hours. And she was on a very dirty and gross floor with one hand cuffed to a radiator. It was dark, which she thought was probably for the best for her headache, and cold. She was shivering as she tried to blink the blurriness out of her eyes and get her bearings.

For now, she was alone.

There was no telling how long she'd been out for. Minutes? Hours? A couple of them? It didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was that she was alive and that she had to get out of here..Grimacing against the pain, she rolled onto her side and pushed herself to a sitting position. The world tilted a bit and she grabbed the edge of the nearest wall to steady herself. The cuffs cut into her wrists and her ankles were getting achy. Overall, it wasn't a great time.

Then, the sound of a key in a lock and the door to the warehouse creaked open, light from the outside glinting dully off the metal floor. "Hello Isla," a deep voice said. "Didn't expect you to be awake."

Going along with this fantasy of his would probably be best. That would give the team time to find them. If there was one thing Penelope was good at was finding a needle in a haystack and, by the look of her surroundings, they were a small needle.

Wherever she was, it was so basic that nothing really stuck out. There was only the radiator she was attached to, a sturdy looking wooden chair, and a cardboard box with a children's book on the top. No windows, concrete floor, metal door, and an industrial overhead lamp that Leyton switched on with a flick of his wrist.

"I knew you'd come back to me," Leyton said, a gleam in his eye. "I knew you would if I gathered enough souls to bargain. You said we could watch cartoons when you came back, can we watch cartoons?"

"Of course we can," Y/N said with a grin. She struggled to ignore the aching in her neck and the twinge in her arms and legs as she spoke. "We can watch whatever you want to watch."

"Whatever?"

"Yeah. Whatever."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really."

Leyton smiled, leaned his head in closer to hers, and whispered, "I'm so glad you're back." Y/N shivered and pushed away the sudden urge to puke, not only because his breath wasn't the best but this creep was so close to her face she could see his spit in his mouth. "You know, you're not going to leave me ever again, right?

"I wouldn't dream of it," she said softly.

Like a child, he jumped up and down on the spot. They'd classified this guy as an organised killer, a sophisticated guy that plans his kills and chooses his moments. But his current demeanour had proven otherwise. This guy was someone who had been stunted socially as a young teen and desperately needed this kind of affection and approval. Maybe he'd devolved.

"I'm sorry I hit you. I didn't want to."

"You did what you had to. I understand that," she lied. "You were protecting me."

"Yes! I was! I'm so glad you can see that now!"

Y/N coughed, hiding the way her face fell by itching her cheek with her shoulder as soon as he looked away from her. As soon as he heard her cough, all of a sudden, he scrambled onto the floor and plonked his head down in her lap. "There, there, Isla," he said, stroking her thigh. "I'm sorry for what I did. I'm so sorry."

Having a serial killer cuddle up to you was weird, to say the least.

"I f-forgive you," she stuttered, before looking down at him with shining eyes and hesitantly reaching her free hand towards his hair. His eyes widened and he leaned further into her hand as he waited for her to touch him. Her fingertips brushed against his thick hair as she caressed the top of his head.

They stayed in that position for more time than Y/N would care to admit.

There was a pang of something in her chest as she watched him nuzzle into her hand and close his eyes as if in bliss. She didn't have time to really feel any sort of pity for Leyton since the metal door suddenly burst open and Spencer came into view, his gun out in front of him.

"Step away," Spencer hissed as he came to a stop in front of her. His face was furious as he cocked his head to the side. "Keep your hands off her."

"But she's mine," Leyton said, a look of innocent bewilderment on his face that soon changed to mindless fury as he pulled himself free of her lap and charged at this random guy pointing a gun at him.

Instead of shooting the killer, Spencer chucked his weapon to the ground and swung at the guy, his fist connecting with Leyton's cheek and then getting another blow to his stomach as he doubled over. Spencer landed punch after punch after punch on the killer's face and body, and Leyton got a few good jabs in before he dropped like a sack of potatoes, blood gushing from his nose and mouth. Yet, Spencer still wasn't done. He was vicious. It was cruel.

And it was the most spiteful thing she'd ever see her husband do.

Derek rushed into the room with Emily hot on his heels. Morgan got Reid by the waist and yanked him away from the fight just as he got another shot in. He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender and backed away from Leyton, who was coughing and spitting up blood onto the concrete floor. Spencer gave a look of disgust as he stepped away from the twitching Leyton and came to a stop in front of Y/N. His chest heaved as he wiped his bloody nose on his sleeve, slumping to sit in front of her as he dropped to the ground.

"Hi honey," he said, leaning in and touching the bump on her forehead with his index finger. "You're bleeding."

"So are you."

"That was... that was..." He shook his head, not knowing how to describe the fight.

"It was," she replied. "I'm glad you won."

"Me too."

As Derek cuffed Leyton Hart, Emily was searching around for the keys to let Y/N out of her cuffs. The moment she was free, Y/N flung herself into her husband's arms and buried her face in his neck, breathing in his scent and listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. She pulled away and looked into his eyes. "You didn't sleep," she commented, seeing the heavy bags under his eyes and noticing how strong the scent of coffee emanating from him was. He always smelt a little like coffee but this was, BANG, right in your face and kind of overwhelming.

"Couldn't."

The floor was a thick layer of grime and old blood covering it so Y/N guided Spencer to stand and pushed him out of the door. In the heat of the moment, he seemed to be fine with all the germs but once his adrenaline depleted itself, he would get very agitated about it. She knew that for certain.

Soon enough, Hotch sorted everything out and after a quick trip to the medic, the couple were allowed to retreat to their hotel room to clean up and rest. On her way past her boss, Hotch stopped her to ask if she was okay, how many days off would she like and, "Who knew Dr Reid could be that - what's the word? - defensive?"

"Leyton Hart put his wife and child on the line, that's a lot to defend, I guess."

"Get some rest, L/N."

"Aye aye, captain."

They got to the hotel room in no time, both in desperate need for a reprieve from other people.

"I'm sorry," Spencer said, his breath hitching as he spoke. "About everything. I just... I couldn't control myself. I don't know what happened."

"This is totally fucked up for me to say but you looked hot - totally scary and intense and, honestly, I could go through my life and be happy if I never saw that side of you again - but, yeah, kinda sexy," Y/N admitted, bending over to start the taps on the bath tub.

"Oh. I, uh, I don't know how to compartmentalise that."

"That's okay. I don't either."

After having a preliminary shower to get most of the dirt off before Y/N got in the bath, she sunk into the warm water, leaning her head back against the tile wall as she closed her eyes and let the stress of the day wash over her. She tried not to disturb Spencer who had decided that it was now his turn to take a shower. He would be scrubbing himself with antibacterial soap for the next few minutes so she could just lay back and listen to the odd sounds her husband would make every now and then as he scoured every inch of his skin with his silicone bath brush that he brought with them wherever they went.

If he was on a deserted island - first off: sand, ew - and he could bring one thing, he'd probably bring that brush. ...Or a flare gun.

When he was done, he wrapped a towel around his waist and knelt on the tiles next to the bathtub, looking at her as she lay there, soaking in the water.

"You okay?"

"Mm-hmm."

"You sure?"

"Yep."

"We need to talk about this, you know?" he retorted, running his hand down the length of her arm and conjoining their hands. He perched his chin on the porcelain. "Did he hurt you?"

"No."

"Did he do anything that might've hurt the baby?"

"Not that I know of. We should make an appointment just to make sure."

Her thumb rubbed against his knuckles, hoping to ease some of the redness from his skin. "Let me kiss it all better, baby," she murmured, letting her lips fall to his bicep. Then to his forearm. The wrist. The palm. Then she turned his hand over so she could press gentle kisses to his busted knuckles. His fingers were long and slender and looked too delicate to hurt - or cause such damage - but they had, and now they were all busted up.

The few punches Leyton managed to get on him were mostly to the face. He had a black eye on the right and a red jaw on the other. Y/N was quick to cover those areas with love. Spencer watched her attentively, a million emotions and reactions dancing across his face as he tried to reconcile all the things he was feeling. But, for now, all he could do was accept whatever affection she thought he was worth.

He leaned forward and gently kissed her, tasting the faintest hint of blood on her lips, then he kissed her again, and again, and again, until she was drowning in the taste of him and had to break apart for a moment to breathe. When they finally came up for air, Y/N guided her husband's head to rest in the crook of her neck and shoulder, kissing his temple and running her fingers through his hair. They stayed like that, embracing in the bathroom, until the water grew cold and they moved their embrace to the couch.

Spencer pulled Y/N onto his lap, her knees digging into the crevice between couch cushions on either side of Spencer's hips as she settled in. He started by moving his hands up and down her back but couldn't resist the paternal urge to focus his attention on her stomach. His thumbs caressed the underside of her belly, sliding across the stretch of her bump.

For now, she'd been able to hide her pregnancy with baggier clothes but it was soon going to become apparent what was happening.

"I may have let it slip about little Reid to Hotch."

"Well, you're beginning to show and you've been very vocal about how hungry you always are in the office... I assume he already knew," Spencer reassured him, lightly trailing kisses down the side of Y/N's neck and pausing at her collarbone. "I'm sure he knew before we figured it out."

"I'm sure he did.”

She tilted his chin so he had to look into her eyes, smiling when he did so. "It's going to be okay, you know," she continued, eyes bright. "You're going to be a great dad, and we'll get through this." Spencer didn't respond but his eyes were so bright and full of love that she knew he heard her.

Y/N smiled wider, her eyes fluttering shut as she leaned in and pressed her lips to her husband's. It was a long, slow, tender kiss that said everything it needed to.

*Click here for my Spencer Reid masterlist, or here for the entire masterlist*

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[shadowworks]

Compulsion

Pairing: Mafia!Dabi X Reader

Warnings: dubconish themes, flirting with Hawks, blood, murder, blackmail, fingering. NSFW, quirkless AU!

Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: Alright! This piece is for The Smut Pile Mafia Collab

I have to give my wholehearted thanks to @hisoknen @some-kindofgnome , @pleasantanathema, and @ever-enthralled for reading this over the last couple weeks, and making sure it reads well! I am so happy to have you beautiful souls! Also a special shoutout to Raph for brainstorming with me when I was stuck at the very end. 💕

Edit: This has fanart! Beautiful @maewoahoah created a Mafia!Hawks piece right here and a Mafia!Dabi piece here! She’s very talented! ;)

On this ominous winter evening it begins snowing. 

You readjust your peacoat and step through the frosty glow of the street lamp to your front door. Your muscles ache a little more than usual, your steps a little heavier. It’s been a long and tedious day at work; far less stimulating compared to Toga’s position working for a bootlegger named Tomura. But both jobs pay the rent. You push papers and withhold your scowls towards clients. Now, you want a bath. 

The sound of a muffled radio plays on the other side, and it floods your ears as you walk in with warmth and an iron smell wafting your chilled nose. 

“Folks, I'm goin' down to St. James Infirmary...

Seeeee, my baby there;

She's stretched out on a long, white table

She looks so sweet, so cold, so fair.”

Toga’s playing blues again. It’s a routine she has before the graveyard shift across town. At this time, she’s in the kitchen making something before she goes, but you’re having trouble figuring out what food smells like copper. 

“He-e-e-y,” you call lazily, a sing-songy tone in your voice. 

She doesn’t answer, though you hear the clacking of stiletto heels on wood, which makes you amble down the hall to see what she’s doing. 

“Think you can smuggle some whiskey tonight? I thought we had some, but Keigo probably polished it off last—“

You stop in the doorway. 

There’s a poor bastard lying flat on his back, head twisting too far towards the sink. Ribbons of blood streak down his colorless skin, pouring out from a dark and glossy hole just beneath his jaw. You see it puddle and stain the edges of his hair a sticky red, the only sound besides your heart thudding is the soft thrums from the parlor.

“ When I die please bury me in my high top Stetson hat

Put a twenty dollar gold piece on my watch chain

So the gang'll know I died standing pat.”

You’re in a daze, one where you’re not sure how long you’ve been staring. It doesn’t seem real. Is it real? But it’s not until you hear the sound of heels clicking against the wood floors that you drag your gaze to the noise. 

Toga’s standing near the stove, her features vacant, shoulders slouched, and she’s holding a knife that’s still wet.

What the fuck? 

You want to scream, berate her, seethe what the fuck was she thinking, or if she was thinking for that matter. But the blonde speaks up before you do, with a voice above a whisper. 

“He was going to leave me. Said he was too dangerous.” Toga doesn’t look in your direction, moving to the rim of pooled blood which has stopped spreading out, “I told him I wouldn’t let anyone come between us, but he wouldn’t listen.”

Your jaw goes taut, staring incredulously at her steely face. The lack of emotion gives you a sinking feeling in your stomach.

The man wasn’t a random suit who bled out on your floor, this moron was seeing Toga on and off for months and had been trying to be more present.

Nights spent arriving at your door with flowers and sweets, and driving her to work was becoming a staple in his routine. He preferred staying in Toga’s room if they had the day off, and he always slipped out when the morning frost dusted the grass, a soft bluish hue painting the streets before sunlight. 

But that’s not the problem. See, he was a core member inside the Mafia running the northern side of the city, ‘The League’ they like to call themselves. The only men above this guy was his boss Tomura, and the underboss Dabi. You don’t know the former, but you’ve spent time with the latter.

You’re aware of his sadistic nature that flashes behind those teal eyes, and he doesn’t try to  hide it, either. The sideway glances during a poker match before he fucked someone over , the smile he wore when you asked about the purple bruises on his knuckles. 

So fan-fucking-tastic, the broad has some nerve.

You curl your lip, already shrugging your shoulders from your coat. You toss it over the table and start rolling up your sleeves to the elbows.  

Toga finally turns towards you after catching movement by her side, brows raising confused, “What are you doing?”

“You’re gonna grab his feet and we’re gonna move him onto the rug in the hall.” 

You step in the blood, grabbing him by the rusty black colored jacket and dragging him from the puddle. Of course it leaves drag marks, your heels making tracks alongside, but you can deal with the clean up later. 

Toga hurries over to help, carrying him by the legs and letting you guide the body to the floral rug.

“You don’t want to know what happened?”

You stop. Immediately dropping the dead weight, his blond head lolls off to the side. Your palms sheen with red, but you straighten up and push a beach curl from your cheekbone with the back of your hand.

“Not really. All I want is this fucker out of my house.”

It’s her turn to stare at you incredulously. This is completely out of nowhere for you to be assisting in hiding a dead boyfriend, even if you two are roommates. You’ve only been living together for four months now.

“Toga, I need you to listen, okay?” you say, a bit mockingly, “I can look past the murdering business by pretending you acted in self defense, but if you don’t have the goddamn brains to realize this idiot has friends, then I suggest you don’t stab people!”

Toga flinches slightly at the lilted pitch in your voice, already suggesting panicky, “We can take him to the woods and hide him there?”

“That’ll work.” You don’t think Twice about it.  

Working together, you both hoist him a couple feet onto the rug, refusing to look at his face. You didn’t need to be feeling a pang of guilt. It doesn’t take long for you to roll him towards the front door, as the material wraps around his figure. 

The hardest part is retreating to the car. The moment you push through the door, you see the distance from where you stand and the car parked a little down the sloping street. You both give a hard look to the powdery snow dusting the ground, quiet and enchanting. It would be beautiful...had you not been carrying a corpse.

“Stop being a little bitch and heave!”

“I can’t! You’re making me hold all the weight!”

“He’s off the ground! How the fuck are you holding all the weight?”

“But my arms hurt!”

“Fucking hell, Toga. What if I had stayed at my sister’s tonight? What then?”

“Stop yelling at me! I get it, alright? I shouldn’t have done it in the house!” 

Your bickering toils through the winds, muffled by the falling snow. The burst of cold air is running through your buttoned blouse while crossing to the 1929 Chevrolet causing a shiver to roll down your back. When you reach the car Toga plops the rug down onto the snow first, then you. Your wet fingers feel numb against the metal handle. 

There’s one entrance on each side, which likely will make shimming the body to the backseat  much harder. You pause, looking at the front in thought. 

“I’ll go first,” you say, “when he’s in, you go and grab our coats.”

“Are we burying him?”

“Think the lake’s faster.”

“What if it’s icy? They’ll see the hole if we throw him in.”

You both ponder your options for a little while, this isn’t exactly something you’ve done before...You can’t say the same for Toga, but she seems just as puzzled, almost clueless on how to get rid of her ex. 

Meanwhile, the rolled corpse behind you starts to slip downhill, little by little. The slanting street gives speed and the rug starts to roll.. Red droplets trail behind in its wake. 

You just happen to see it first.

“Toga—Toga, the body! The body!” 

Toga cries out, taking off after the rug as best she can on a frozen sheet. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” 

The graceful snowfall flutters with pain and chaos.

Toga skids against the fresh ice, feet stumbling under her navy blue dress. She falls to the ground with a hard thud, and you see she isn’t stopping. She keeps going alongside the body, sliding until the two disappear under another parked car. 

You don’t have time to think, a chill strikes up your spine in your panic. 

“Toga!” you call out, taking off after her. Unfortunately you find yourself abruptly on your back, pounding hard on the stones and stealing the breath from your lungs. 

If you could sigh right now you would. Or rather, if you could punch Toga right now you would, as rage twists with a throbbing pain in your chest. Was all this worth having a mobster roommate? The odds were piling against her. You have a mind to push her in the lake when you get there.

Several silent minutes go by with you staring up at the cloudy sky. It’s brighter from the illuminating white snow, and despite the icy powder prickling your flesh, you have no choice but to wait for the ache in your chest to fade. 

“Enjoying the view?” 

You hear a new voice, male, and the suave tone tells you who it is before he treads near. He looks over you with half lidded eyes of honey gold. 

He’s very pretty. The drifting snow flakes above his wheat coloured head manage to enhance this, though the uplifted eyes lined in black, and nicely sharp features are the last thing you want to see. You’re nowhere near ready to start lying out of Toga’s mess. 

“That can’t be too comfy down there,” Keigo says, bending forward with an outstretched hand,“C’mon, upsy-daisy.” 

You take his hand, feeling another leather glove hold your waist and lift you onto your feet. When you settle, he starts brushing the caked snow off your back. Mobster or not, he’s at least a gentleman.

“You alright?” he asks, giving you a once over for any fresh scratches.

You give a slow nod, crossing your arms over your chest. Fear’s got the better of you, and you look anywhere but him., “What are you doing here? I thought you were working tonight.”

“Oh I am! You could say I’m on patrol, need to pick up a few things.” 

Your gaze stills to your left, heart skipping. Keigo’s not alone. Standing nearby, a slim figure dressed in black from head to toe is watching you two lazily. A thread of smoke seeps from his parted lips, clouding a handsome face and spikes of black hair. Keigo keeps talking, but you can’t take your eyes off the ghostly presence you know to be Dabi.

“Unfortunately that includes loverboy. He was supposed to be back hours ago, but we figured he’s still fooling around,” a little smirk tugs at his mouth, suggestively “He’s still inside, right?”

You blink, turning back to face Keigo, “I wouldn’t know, I just got home,” you lie. 

“Look at you! You look like you’re about to freeze to death.” He starts suddenly, swiftly slipping his arms out from his heavy coat, revealing a black three piece with pinstripes, and a brighter crimson tie. In one smooth motion he twirls the long, beige coat over your shoulders, letting it rest over your figure.

“Thank you,” you say, before your eyes catch something. 

Dabi moves towards the clumsy skid marks, head tilting down to the red dots in the snow near his polished shoe. You stiffen.

“You sure you’re okay?” 

Your gaze flashes from Dabi’s retreating back to a politely smiling Keigo, “Yeah, I’m fine! I’m really cold is all.”

“Well, we should get you inside. You know you left your door wide open?” Shit, the door. You forgot about the stupid door—

(Dabi looms across the indents in the snow and follows down the hill like a dark shadow against crystals illuminating bright.)

“Ah yeah, I thought I left my purse in the car. It was just for a second, and then I slipped,” You force a smile. Relax. You need to relax. Keigo doesn’t seem convinced, reading something off in your features.

“Is that right?”

(He gets the edge of the old Ford, and notes the specks of red soak wider here. The spots lead underneath.) 

“I know, it’s pretty foolish. It’s um...It’s a good thing you showed up when you did, or...”

Your eyes drift over Keigo’s shoulder. The underboss starts to crouch low. Your pupils shrink, a new wave of panic tingles the back of your neck. Damn him, why was he so clever? 

“Dabi, wait!” you shout, pushing past Keigo’s shoulder. In your hurry you kick up the snowy crystals, rushing to the taller mobster in his long obsidian coat. Dabi quickly turns, standing up.tall before you hook onto his upper arm like a lover. “I saw an animal go under there that looked hurt. You shouldn’t mess with it.”

A smirk that breaks into a grin spreads on his face, a look of amusement blooming from your look of fright. You want to glare at him, though that could be dangerous. Why does he like seeing you scared?

 “An animal, you say?” he parrots back, adopting the same mocking pitch you gave Toga earlier. He’s not in the least bit on edge, and you really don’t like that. He flicks his teal eyes up to look behind you just then, “Good thing I have the city’s best exterminator right here.”

As if on cue, you hear the crunching boots of Keigo walking to the car. “Give me a break with the dirty work, will ya?”

“What, scared of a little pest?” Dabi taunts back coolly.

 “I’m not too fond of getting my knees wet, actually,” Keigo returns quite dryly, sharp eyes studying the long pattern marks. He places his gloved hands on his thighs and drops himself to a crouch in front of the vehicle.

You desperately hope Toga proves you wrong. Maybe she had the common sense to bail while no one was looking. It’s all you can do at this point, while Keigo dips his head underneath. You don’t realize, but your grip on Dabi’s arm presses tighter into the wool.

Keigo inspects below for a moment. There’s a long pause like a winter evening should be. Silent. Calming. You can almost believe in the soothing little lie. Then Keigo coughs a laugh  that echoes through the street. Bursts of manic giggles grow louder from the mobster, leaving you tilting your head at his pushed back hair, confused.

“There’s a pest, alright! I think I caught something—“

Keigo reaches under, and with an impressively strong yank, Toga’s head pops out in a doe eyed stare. Her arms are wrapped around a bundled rug with a fairly familiar head sticking out. 

“Hey there, Toga!” Keigo exclaims, “When did you become a rat?”

 Dabi tips his head down, drawing the lit cigarette back to his lazy smile. He’s shockingly calm which does nothing to ease your shivering panic. Toga however, seems fine. In fact, she’s moved on to livelier feelings.

“Hey! Does it look like a rat could’ve done this?!” she snaps, shaking the body in her arms. It bangs against the bottom of the car sending loud echoes through the nearly empty street. Specks of blood dribble on the white ground, and a couple more drops spray her cheeks.

You stare up at the clouds, rolling your eyes. Goddamnit Toga.

“Yeah, I guess a rat can’t hold a knife, huh? Ya got me there.” Keigo turns and beams you a smug look, eyes half lidded in an expression that reads, nice try, but you failed.

You scrunch your nose, quietly shooting him back a glare. Asshole might’ve caught you both red handed, but he didn’t have to be so fucking cocky about it. It’s only charming when he has a winning hand at cards. Beside you, Dabi’s shoulders shake with silent laughter, though you don’t have the guts to flash him the same glower. He is second in command after all.   

“Yeah, see? That’s what I thought!” Toga says in victory.

You blink very, very slowly at Toga when she finally meets your vastly unamused gaze,“...Nice work, Toga.” 

It comes suddenly. A fiery warmth ghosts the dip in your waist as Dabi leans in. It’s not unwelcomed, raw and soothing even, but it hardly lasts. His hand curls around Keigo’s coat collar and pulls it off your shoulders. The crisp wind rushes to your exposed arms.

“You got any rat poison on you, Hawks?” Dabi tosses the coat to Keigo. 

He catches it mid air as he rises to stand. “Nah, fresh out. But we have some back at the house.” 

“You want to take care of our rat problem then?”

“Can do, boss man.”

Before you can figure out what they mean–what they have planned for Toga–Dabi’s pristine leather glove presses at the small of your back and directs you toward the pouring light of the open door. “Don’t wait up.”

It’s barely there, but as you shift your eyes to Keigo, his features take on a darkened look toward Dabi.

“Play nice, now,” you hear Keigo say. This time though, the joyous tone is gone. 

A new song hums on the radio when you’re pushed through the threshold, you listen to the richly solemn blues as Dabi closes the door. He turns the lock with a click and pockets the key.

“I forgive you 

'Cause I can't forget you.

You've got me in between the devil and the deep blue sea”

He doesn’t give you a passing glance, instead he turns and strolls down the freshly bare hall. He hasn’t removed his coat, and each room he passes he tilts his head in to search for something, stopping by the parlor. With a twist of a knob, he shuts off the radio.

“Where’d she ice him?” he asks, still not looking at you by the stairwell. 

“In the kitchen.” You return. No point in hiding it now. 

His steps creak the wood as he ambles further down, knowing full well where to go. He’s been here a handful of times; of course, those were happier evenings filled with drunken laughs.

You watch him stand by the doorway, staring at the vibrant mess of a crime scene. He pops the tip of his cigarette in his mouth before slipping from your line of sight. Dabi’s got the key to the door, so it’s not like you can run away—especially with Keigo just outside. It’s too risky to try and you know it, but it does cross your mind. 

Summing up the courage, you decide to follow Dabi with measured steps, “What are you going to do with Toga?” 

When you face the kitchen, Dabi’s near the table where you threw your coat. He has a hand in one of your pockets, and he’s fishing for something inside. It jingles in his grip as he stuffs it into his own pocket. Your car keys. 

“Are you going to kill her?” you try again, a little irked he’s swiping your things left and right. He doesn’t release your coat either, laying it over the crook of his elbow.  

He draws a final inhale from the dying bud, and crosses to the sink to snuff it out. An exhale of smoke blows out from his lips, “Killing her seems like a favor, don’t you think?”

“I thought it was the other way around.”

He turns, flicking teal eyes sheening with energy at you, “That lunatic’s no longer your concern. Right now, you ought to be more worried about yourself.”

Your features go taut, which in turn makes Dabi’s sadistic smirk return.

 “I didn’t help her kill him.”

“No,” he agrees, taking a few strides around the blood to approach you,“but you were willing to stash the stiff.”

“Yeah, for this very reason. I didn’t want you coming after me!”

Dabi draws dangerously close, mere inches apart as he glances down with lidded eyes, the smell of tobacco perfumes from his shirt collar nestled under a violet tie. He crooks his index finger, embellished with a silver ring, ghosting it under your chin. “How’d that turn out for you, babydoll?”

With a ruthless smile, he breaks the fixed stare and rounds you to the hallway. He seems to be making his way towards the parlor again, but the swish of your peacoat in his arm, set you off.

How dare he? You don’t like how he’s walked inside, claiming what’s yours. You might have your life screwed over, but at the very least you want your coat back as some semblance of control.

You stalk after him, picking up pace to aim for his arm. The clacks of your heels are loud, but you currently couldn’t care less about being sneaky, “Give it fucking back. You’re not keeping that!”

You lunge for the black wool, but as your fingers brush the material on his left elbow, Dabi whips the coat, rotating arms. You’re not fast enough, but you try a second reach for his right arm, huffing out a growl at his stealthy reflexes.

“Dabi, I’m serious! You’re such a—”

In a twirling motion his newly free palm shoves at your shoulder, pinning you against the stairwell’s wall. He’s close, so close, the blue flames in his eyes are absurdly intense. 

“That makes two of us. You’ll get this back when I say so.” 

His voice is low, soft lips almost connecting to yours. You tilt your chin up, glaring at him with fearful, tentative eyes. His gaze flashes with mirth, and he huffs a small laugh at you.

“I’ve always liked this about you. That spark inside you.” He muses. The peacoat spills to the floor. Dabi lifts his slender fingers, pushing back a loose curl from your cheek. 

Your stomach flips, as shocks tickle your skin. There’s been subtle flirting between you two before. You just wrote it off as overthinking the moment. Even though he only called you, babydoll, and he sat next to you at gatherings. How he filled your glass with water instead of booze as the nights waned. Now, you feel foolish for denying the little signs. 

“You have a horrible way of showing girls you like ‘em,” you counter back, your voice’s quiet but leveled. 

“Yeah?” he asks. The arm holding your shoulder tightens, while the other lowers to collect your long skirt. He traces his knuckles on the soft flesh of your thigh. As his hand trails up, his eyes remain fixed on your facial features. “Maybe this will help.”

His slim fingers reach the cotton slip, and it’s easy to pull off to the side, exposing the lips of your warmth. He tests the waters, sweeping the tips of his fingers across your folds. Your mouth parts in a breathless hitch in your throat. Dabi parts his own lips drawing near, ‘til his lips touch yours but not quite pressing together yet. His pierced nose bumps yours.

“Now here’s what’s going to happen,” he starts, just before sinking two fingers between your folds, pumping deep and slow inside. “You’ll go upstairs and pack what you need. When you come down—”

He thrusts particularly hard into you, sending a gasping moan to fall from your open mouth. His voice remains calm, a hint of glee can be detected. Fucking bastard.

“—You’ll be leaving with me. You’ll work for me...Live with me…And you’ll do everything I say. You got it, babydoll?”

He adds a third finger, soaking his knuckles deep with your slick. He’s hitting the right spots, the perfectly deep pressure. Your attention turns hazy as wakes of pleasure tighten just below your stomach. Your hips buck against his thrusting hand, yet still, you manage to nod your head. 

Moans flutter from your lips and vibrate onto his smiling one. To heighten the pleasure he begins swirling your wet clit. “Ah, Dabi...Oh god, Dabi—”

He slows his fingers suddenly, which makes you cry out. He pretends to ignore it. “If you try to escape me...I will hunt you down and hurt you in ways that will marr that pretty skin of yours. I’ll make you scream so loud, and no one will be there to save you. Tell me you understand.”

He curls his knuckles, pressing into a rough spot at the top, pumping fiercely against your slippery, muscular walls. You cry out, squeezing at his shirt collar and coat. “Fuck—I understand, I understand! Baby, right there, ah!”

Dabi gives you no mercy. He tugs and twirls the bud of sensitive nerves, swirling with driven circles that clench your walls in wonderous pressure. You’re close, he’s so close to sending you in high bliss. Your moans get heavier, and your clenching more and more and—

He removes his fingers. Another cry of protest sobs from your mouth only to be swallowed by Dabi’s lips on yours. His tongue massages the moans from your breath, his scent of cigarettes and smoke immerse your senses as you drown in the kiss.

He slowly breaks apart with a wet sound, looking deeply in your lust-glossed eyes. His voice is low and arousingly husky. “Now get your things.”

Before you know it, Dabi pulls away from your shoulders, and turns for the parlor. You try catching your breath, watching his slim, muscular back...Did that happen? Did he rob you of everything? Your home, your life, your orgasm?

Eventually, with light steps you do as you’re told, and turn to climb up the stairs. What choice do you have? He has your life in the palm of his hand. And right before you make it to the top, your hand drawn on the railing, the spinning clicks of your house phone perk your ear.  

A long pause. Then finally, Dabi’s rich voice speaks up from the parlor,

“Hey, I’ll be needing a few guys at Togas...Yeah, we found him….Toga did him in pretty good...No, we’ll need the good bleach for cleanup.”

***

P.S, this might be a mini series 👀

[domthedevil]

hi could you write a fic where mc is in a poly relationship with the brothers but they're a virgin and the brothers had been placing bets on who will be their first. levi, being the ball of insecurity that he is, didn't believe mc when they told him they wanted him to be their first. their reasoning being that since he's so shy he would they more comfortable and because of his personality he would be much more gentle than what they think the others would be. and could you do it with female anatomy and they/them pronouns? and the genre would be smut. i'm sorry my nd brain focusses on details so much i literally never give small prompts on my requests, you can ignore this if you don't really like it!!

It might be my corruption kink appreciation, but I love virgin!MC and This was perfect! I had plenty to work with and I hope you enjoy. 💋

Be Gentle

Warnings: Levi x afab!mc, loss of virginity

There was no way you would give your first time to him. Levi was experienced, but when compared to his brothers it mattered little. They weren’t filthy otakus like him. It didn’t matter how much you loved him and everyone, he was always going to feel inadequate.

When his brother’s began discussing how to approach you on the subject, Levi instantly threw his usual tantrum of self pity. And when Mammon mentioned that there’s no way an otaku could properly take care of a person’s first time, Levi locked himself away in his room for the rest of the night.

He was shocked, to say the least, that you came to him one night, with flushed cheeks and glazed over eyes, he was shocked when he heard you tell him:

“I want it to be you Levi...I know you’ll take care of me.”

“M-me?”

“I want you Levi...please be...gentle.”

Levi knew it was important that you were sure. And when your lips met his and arms wrapped around his neck, he threw out any doubt he had before. Your eager kisses and tight grip told him everything he needed.

“Levi...”

Your breathy sigh was hot against his ear. Trailing kisses up and down your neck, Levi’s soft touch made you almost tremble. Tracing over your clothing slowly, his hands paid attention to your sensitive areas. Making sure you were more familiar with his touch before feeling his fingers on your naked body. However it only made you want more.

You shifted underneath him, just enough to remove your clothing. And just enough for him to remove his. Though he was in charge, you knew this was the only way to get more of what you wanted. And his hands were eager to give you everything you needed. Pinching and twirling your nipples; Levi made sure to give you the attention you deserved. Moaning against his touch made his own cock stir. He almost wanted everyone else to hear you. But for now your voice was his.

“D-do you like this MC?” Though it was his usual stutter, there was an erotic edge to his tone.

“Yes. L-Levi...” you whined a little as he gave your sensitive peaks one last squeeze before replacing them with tongue.

Every touch made you melt. A warmth was building between your legs. You could feel how wet he was making you. And you wanted more. You didn’t have to ask though, Levi ran his fingers over your wet folds, coating his fingers in your slick arousal. It felt good having someone else’s touch on your virgin heat. And when his two fingers slipped inside you, your entire body tensed. Even your own fingers didn’t feel this good.

As he slowly curved his fingers up inside you, Levi’s other hand began to rub at himself. Your twisted expressions made him lose some of his self restraint. He was determined to seem as cool as possible while he shared your experience. But really he was overly eager to please you. He buried his face into your breasts to help you relax around his fingers. Giving your nipple one last rough nibble, Levi looked over your breathless expression. You looked like you were enjoying yourself.

“L-Levi. I don’t know what do.” Between the quiet moans leaving you, you huffed your words. “Tell me where to touch you.”

“H-here, MC.”

Levi’s soft hand took yours, leading it to his hard cock. You felt the warm, smooth skin and almost purred. He felt soft and firm at the same time. The breathy moans and sighs told you he was enjoying the way you played with him, like an otaku with a new toy. Now both of you were were moaning and breathing heavy. Levi took the chance to kiss you deeply again. Intertwining his tongue with yours as he stealthily slipped another finger inside you.

“Hnnn! Levi. It feels tight.”

“I-I know. But I’m here. I’ll move slow.”

“Okay. I’ll try.”

You did your best to take your mind of the discomfort, kissing Levi helped. His fingers moved in short, slow strokes. He wanted to make sure you knew you could trust him. That he actually is capable of being a great lover. A great boyfriend. But you already knew that. Why else would you come to him for such an intimate and memorable experience?

Your pulsing walls relaxed as he quickened his pace. Letting his fingers do the work to stretch you out.

“I love you MC.”

“I l-love you Levi.” Your heated whisper followed as his fingers moved from within you. “I’m ready. My heart’s pounding.”

“M-mine too.” His smile met yours as he brought his member to your entrance. Rubbing the head of his cock in your slick fluids.“If it hurts. I’ll stop right away okay?”

You nodded as you held out your arms. You needed him to hold you so badly. He pressed his chest to yours as his tip made its way inside you. Still tight, Levi groan slightly as he moved slowly into you. Honestly he could have cum just from that. Your own moan was muffled against his lips. A quick but sharp pain scared you slightly, you couldn’t help a small tear falling from your eye. Arms wrapped around Levi tightly as you whimpered. He made sure to hold you back just as tight.

“MC? Are you okay?” Levi used the pads of his thumbs to wipe away your tears.

You nodded against his forehead, adjusting to the new feeling quickly.

“You can move. I’m ready.”

Levi was soft and slow, relishing in the warm walls that were feeling this for the first time. His cock was long and curved, hitting deeper than you’d ever been able to finger yourself before. You had to cover your mouth to hold back some of your moans. Though it was foreign, the pleasure followed soon after.

Though his hips were slow, the heat in your core was already building. There was one spot that seemed to make you moan louder. He aimed for that spot within you. Not knowing what to do with your hands again, you held his shoulders as he leaned up to look at you. You both looked into each other’s eyes as his hips picked up speed. The erotic look you made had his hips moving even faster.

“I feel weird Levi...I’m really hot on the inside.”

Fuck. When you say such cute things like that, how can he hold back?

“That’s good MC. Don’t be scared. You’re with me.”

The short breaths and whimpers leaving you told him how close you were. Your first orgasm being penetrated, and it was all his doing. He felt a since of pride as he continued to buck into you.

A shiver ran up your spine, and back down to your toes. You felt almost a snap that left you moaning and crying out loud. Levi watched with worry and arousal as you reached your peak. The way your walls moved around him left him almost a drooling mess.

“I can’t hold on MC. I’m coming.”

Holding you tightly to his chest, Levi drilled his cock roughly into you for what felt like forever. All the spots he was touching before were now being hit in precession. That same heat built in your core, but faster than before.

“Me too. Oh Levi. It’s really good.”

A few more thrusts and he stilled, shakily, inside you. A warm, overflowing sensation filled you up. Levi was filling you up with cum.

“Nnngh! M-MC. So good. I-I felt so good. How are you?”

“I’m sore...but...Levi that felt so great. I don’t think anyone else could have made me feel as comfortable as you.” Levi’s chest filled with pride again, and of course absolute adoration of you. “And I...I love you. Can we do it again?”

Levi had to cover his face a moment. Already he was back to being red faced and stuttering. Of course you would be doing it again.

[annie-blackhill]

Aight, I know that I've been away for awhile but now I'm back and I have ideas babes!

____________________________________

Warnings:

Depression

Anxiety

Past panic attacks

Mentions of past domestic violence

Abusive childhood

Post traumatic events unconscious coping mechanisms

Unconscious flinching out of instinct

Sudden panic when hearing fighting between a man and a woman screaming very near

Loss of breath

Domestic violence

Blood

Panic attack

____________________________________

Dazai Osamu

________________

Safe and Sound

________________

Dazai and (Y/N) have been in a relationship for two years now. They're so in love with each other that everyone at the ADA are questioning the fact as to why they weren't married yet.

Dazai really loves (Y/N) and she loves him just as much back. They both really love each other and they both understand each other the most too.

But there were still some things that Dazai didn't know.

The main reason why (Y/N) and Dazai weren't married yet was because Dazai wanted to get her parents' blessings first. He was so excited to get their blessings, to meet the people who brought his perfectly imperfect lover into this cruel, tainted world.

He was eternally grateful to them for bringing her into this world, although the cruel world had tainted her and made her the broken person she is now, he still loves her for her. She's the only reason he has to live now. And he loves her for that.

Whenever Dazai asked (Y/N) about her family, she would tell him stories about when she was a child and how her dad would bring them to the beach every weekend because they lived near to the beach or when they went back to school shopping together.

But that was it. Her dad never really appeared in her other stories much. He would pop in at some point of the tale and then disappear. Her mum, was mostly the one to witness her achievements.

But (Y/N) has never described her parents' proud expressions whenever she achieved something.

At times, when Dazai did pry lightly, she would turn the story somewhere else, mostly to her friends.

He knew that she didn't really have a good primary school life, seeing as she's told him before that she's been bullied at that time. She's described them as the loneliest years of her life and how much she's hated herself those times.

Whenever (Y/N) talked about friends, it would be about her friends from her high school life. Her high school was much more on the better side.

She had been a prefect in her high school years, since her first year to her last year.

The only bad memories she had was when she realized that being in the first class and being the top of the class meant the other students would sabotage her and the two times in her senior years where she had to fight back as self-defense when she tried to break up a fight and they started to hit her too.

Dazai wasn't daft. Of course, he picked up on all the signs she showed that she wasn't really fond of her parents.

At first, he thought that it was just because of a small fight they had. But two years have passed in their relationship and (Y/N) hasn't cracked even the least to tell him why her childhood stories are only until a certain age or why she's never told him how proud her parents were of her.

Dazai was worried. In the end, he decided that maybe her parents just have a slightly tight relationship with each other.

Dazai decided to not ask. He let it slide and slip past them. He never touched the subject of her parents for the half of the second year of their relationship.

As the other half year of their relationship rolled in, Dazai and (Y/N) had saved enough money to buy a cozy little apartment near the ADA and move out of the ADA's hostel.

The day they were moving in, the couple were greeted by the middle aged woman who lived next door with her husband and 4 year old daughter.

She had been a very sweet auntie that welcome the sweet couple to the apartment complex with open arms and a sweet smile.

More than once had she cooked good food for the duo since they always returned late from work.

"You two kinda remind me of how my husband and I used to be when we were younger and so in love," the auntie would say to the duo all the time.

The little 4 year old would also come by and play around with the loving couple whenever they were on leave.

Auntie would always try persuade her daughter from "disturbing the lovely young couple" as she would always say to her daughter.

"It's alright, auntie! I love kids! (N/N)-chan and I are planning to have a few little munchkins like this when we're married too!" Dazai would assure her, while playing with the little girl.

But there was always something about how (Y/N) would send the auntie knowing looks as though she knew something that he didn't all the time, so he decided to pay more attention too.

When Dazai did start to notice more, he noticed the dark bags under the auntie's eyes and he noticed how tired she always was.

The more he noticed the more concerning she looked to him day by day.

"Auntie, would you like to join us for tea, today? Osamu and I wanted to play with that sweet little angel," (Y/N) invited the auntie.

"WHO'S THAT AT THE DOOR???!!!" the booming voice of the male from inside the auntie's house shook (Y/N) to the core and it ignited old memories that she didn't have to remember.

"Auntie, you really should come. Osamu insists! You know how he gets when he doesn't get what he wants! He'll be whining all day long like a little baby!" (Y/N) tried to convince the auntie discreetly.

"I ASKED 'WHO'S THAT AT THE DOOR'! ANSWER ME YOU USELESS WOMAN!!!" the man shouted from the bedroom again.

(Y/N) flinched. She was regretting sending Dazai to the store now. They had been running low on groceries and she had sent Dazai to the store, as she would say "please contribute you're lazy arse to do something in this household, my love" and he had carried his lazy arse to the store near the apartment complex.

After Dazai had left was when she started to hear the shouts and yells from the next door auntie's house.

Even as the bad memories plunged her being, she had forced herself to go and at least try to save the auntie before anything bad happened to either her or her daughter.

But even then, if you looked closely at (Y/N) you could see that she was trembling badly and that she could barely stand on her two feet.

"Auntie, come on please!" (Y/N) begged in a mutter exclamation.

"I'm sorry," the auntie murmured before closing the door on her with an apologetic smile.

"Auntie, no!" (Y/N) exclaimed.

And that was when she heard the terrible screams and the yell. The cries of the little 4 year old teared her soul apart into the smallest of pieces.

"NO, NO, NO!!!!" (Y/N) yelled as her mind turned blank and the memories flooded her brain.

Her mind turned so blank that she forgot that she was slamming her fists onto the door and that she had an ability.

The memories of how her father would come home drunk and lay on the sofa. Of how her mother had found out that he was having an affair. Of how, he would beat the living daylights out of her mother.

(Y/N) never told Dazai any of that. She felt ashamed to tell him that her childhood was the most terrible thing to ever happen to her.

A blood curdling screamed pierced the air along with a loud cry and that was enough for (Y/N) to snap out of her traumas and remember that there were lives on the stake right now.

She finally regained her senses fully and remembered that she has an ability.

Using her elemental abilities, she bent the wooden front door so much that it broke it half and broke off of it's hinges. The lower half flew to the side of the corridor almost hitting her while the other half flew into the house and hit the middle aged aggressive man that was about to beat his wife over the head with a glass flower vase.

The auntie stood in shock as the younger woman ran to her and hugged her.

"Auntie! Are you alright?! Are you bleeding anywhere?! Do you have any fatal injuries?!" (Y/N) questioned quickly as she held the shorter's woman's face in her hands and looked her over, making sure that she wasn bleeding anywhere majorly.

"Why you little freak show! You must one of those freak shows that are born with those little abilities! How dare you interfere with someone else's family problems?! Youngsters these days don't know how to respect their elders! Let me teach you then!" the man yelled at (Y/N) as she stood in front of the trembling woman, making sure that the older woman was perfectly hidden behind her.

(Y/N) slipped a hand into the back pocket of her jeans. She clutched the holster of her gun.

"Step away, right now before I seriously hurt you," (Y/N) warned as she held her left hand out to stop him from coming any nearer to them.

The man took off his belt and folded it into two, straightening it out with a snap, which caused both women to flinch as more dark memories flooded into (Y/N)'s mind.

"I said STOP RIGHT THERE!" (Y/N) warned yet again. It was against the law for her to shoot him and she couldn't even use her abilities against him as he was a normal civilian.

She was trying her best to not hurt anyone here and let the civilian authorities handle the ruthless man.

The moment the man raised his arm was the same time (Y/N) slipped her gun out of her back pocket and shot his arm.

The man let out a cry of pain and fell back from the sudden pain. He looked at the younger woman, wide eyed as she held the gun tight and pointed the barrel to his forehead.

"Armed Detective Agency member, (L/N) (Y/N)," (Y/N) announced as she showed him her ADA card.

The man backed away more at that. His eyes wide as he realized that she was a member of the authorities.

"(Y/N)?!" Dazai shouted as he entered only to see the bloodied situation of the man and the two trembling women.

"Where's the child?!" Dazai asked immediately.

"Sh-she's in her room," the auntie answered meekly.

Dazai nodded. He looked down at the man, disgust, venom and a desire to kill clear on his face.

The man even then, still tried to gain Dazai's pity as Dazai was a fellow man too.

"S-sir! All I was trying to do was educate my wife to be more better and obedient! I wasn't trying to do anything other than that! I swear!" the man said.

That only made Dazai even more disgusted as he spat on the man's face in disgust. He stomped his foot harshly on the man's hand that was holding the belt.

"You disgust me you old fool! You're an utter disgrace of a human being! I'm disgusted to see people like you are still alive! Terrorizing women's lives! Making them only feel like obedient dolls that should only do whatever you say!

I'd rather kill you then let you go to jail and then get back out after a few months! People like you shouldn't exist at all in the first place!

Your wife is supposed to be your life partner! Not some maid or toy that would do everything you say! You're supposed to live life and do everything together!

I can't believe you even had a child with her only to state your dominance over her and make her unable to run away from you!

You disgust me!" Dazai yelled at the man as he twisted his foot on the man's hand more and stomped it over and over and over again, intent on breaking it.

(Y/N) shielded the auntie's sight form her lover's rage as he broke the man's hand and rendered it completely shattered under his shoe.

"Osamu..." (Y/N) called out for him.

Dazai raised his head to look at his lover, tears streaming from his eyes from utter pure white hot rage.

"Are you alright? Are the two of you alright? Is that little angel injured?" Dazai's voice turned so soft that (Y/N)'s heart broke at the mere sound of it. He sounded as scared as she was feeling.

Dazai went over to the two women and squeezed them into a light hug, he buried his face into the crook of (Y/N)'s neck. (Y/N) hugged his waist, her arm practically limp, but her hand still clutching the gun tight just in case the man tried anything, her ear was placed against his frantically beating heart.

The older woman had wrapped her arm over his back and was hugging him tight, scared out of her life and grateful for the presence of the two youngsters at the moment.

"Osamu... We need to call the police and the ADA, specifically Kunikida-san. We need to explain a hell load to them all," (Y/N) murmured lightly to the shaken man.

Dazai nodded lightly at her statement before pressing a light kiss to the crook of her neck and removing himself from the hold of the two women.

"Auntie, do get your little girl and wait outside of the house. (Y/N) and I will call the police and our co-worker to handle the mess here," Dazai informed the older woman.

She merely nodded, not trusting her voice to be strong enough to answer him as she went to the little girl's bedroom to get her out of the house.

Once the child and woman were safely out of the house, Dazai dialed Kunikida while (Y/N) dialed the police station.

Both at had arrived at the house. The man was brought away on a stretcher by the paramedics as (Y/N) was explaining to the police as to why she had used her gun.

Kunikida and Dazai, both standing on either side of her, trying to justify the reason as to why she did so and the police accepted the reasons in the end.

Dazai said his end of the story and then they moved on to ask the wife and the child about their ends of the story.

"(Y/N), you know you shouldn't have used your gun. I'll have to confiscate it for now. You'll only be allowed to use it on missions. I'm sorry but those are the rules that you need to follow after that little act of 'misusage' as the police says," Kunikida sighed as he took the gun lightly from her slightly slackened grasp on it now.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I was scared and he raised the belt above me, ready to hit at any moment---" her voice cracked and she couldn't continue the sentence anymore.

Kunikida held her hand softly as Dazai brought (Y/N) into a soft side hug, holding her softly and rubbing her shoulders.

"I know and that's why I'm the one that's supposed to be saying sorry for taking away your gun, (Y/N)," Kunikida said.

"Hey, hey. It's alright, the both of you. I'll pull some strings here and there and make sure, (Y/N) gets her gun back, alright? Easy peasy!" Dazai lightened the mood up a little.

"Sigh, thank you, Dazai. For making this easier for all of us," Kunikida said before excusing himself, saying that he needs to fill out a few more forms at the police station and make sure that neither Dazai or (Y/N) get accused for anything that they didn't do.

Dazai proceeded to lead (Y/N) back to their little home as the auntie and her daughter were led to the second ambulance by the new paramedics.

(Y/N) leaned into Dazai as she curled up onto him. He held her close and tight, knowing full well that she was shaken up from the encounter.

"Osamu... Remember how you always asked for the truth about my childhood... What you witnessed today that was happening to that auntie and her daughter? That's the real truth to my childhood.

But no one saved us. And as I grew and my dad lived his other life with his little affair, he would come and go to let off steam on my mother and my mother started to blame me for how miserable our lives were.

That's why I never had a past occupation like everyone else. I had been working with the ADA ever since I was 18 and I ran away from her.

The president helped me. He helped my mother by providing her safety and a new home.

My father is still out there, somewhere with that other woman.

And I... I've never seen my mother since the day I ran away. She must be happier now," (Y/N) said, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Dazai hugged her closer and kissed her forehead.

"It's alright, love. You have me and the other ADA members for you as well now. Hell, even the Port Mafia is with you right now after how much you helped them out when we were all having trouble with The Guild and Fyodor. You have all of us here for you.

Most importantly, my love, you have me. I won't let anyone so much as hurt you even a little bit and go off the hook.

I swear," Dazai murmured softly into her ear and she snuggled closer to him, their feets touching and their hands interwined with each other's.

____________________________________

"Port Mafia strikes again as a man who was arrested yesterday due to commiting domestic violence was murdered by them brutally in his own jail cell much to the surprise of all the police officers present.

Police officers were considering requesting the Armed Detective Agency to further an investigation at first, but has now decided against it as the chief of the police station has deemed it as a waste since the man was a criminal," the news reporter announced on the morning news as (Y/N) sipped her (bitter/sweet/neutral) (coffee/tea) and Dazai adorable chewed his crab sandwich.

"Who did you ask to do it?" (Y/N) asked immediately as soon as Dazai swallowed.

"Chuuya was more than willing after I told him the story. I didn't even have to tell him which police station and cell that scum was in, he ran off and figured it all out himself and finished the job," Dazai answered before continuing to adorably eat his crab sandwich.

"That scum deserved it," (Y/N) agreed as she continue sipping her (coffee/tea).

____________________________________

Awareness Note:

Stop domestic violence. The pain lingers on even after the relationship has ended. No one should have to be bounded to a spouse that only views them as an object and an inferior instead of a human being and an equal. No one has to go through physical and mental pain with a monster that prefers to take control of everything. No one has to go through such pain.

Marriage isn't pain! Marriage is a bond of two people who love each other!

If it hurts both physically and mentally, then it's not love.

Know the difference.

[plumrabbit]

I saw your comment about dealing with Trumpers. Do you have any advice for family members who truly believe they're on the side of good by supporting him? I'm especially torn up about someone who I believe is being taken advantage of due to lifelong social factors & her trusting nature. It's really difficult to unpack & it would be nice if there were a support group for this. I don't want to bother anyone but I need help too. I'm committed, I just shake during convos like these & it's draining.

Hello, and thank you for reaching out! Sorry it took a while to respond, I wanted to come up with something relatively comprehensive. Putting the rest under a cut as this is long!

I am so sorry you are dealing with this in your life, and you’re right, it is totally draining. The fact that these confrontations make you shake is significant because it means your fight or flight response has kicked in - your brain has told your body you are in imminent danger. Here is some info on this response, if you can understand it and how it affects you, you can start searching for ways to manage its debilitating effects, and make difficult conversations less stressful. 

Don’t worry about feeling like you’re being a bother, I am happy to help as much as possible, though I can only speak from my own experiences. I unfortunately cannot say I know of any support groups, but I imagine there would be some on Facebook, and you may also have luck asking somewhere like reddit.com/r/trumpgret. You’re right, it is a ton to unpack, and every Trump supporter is motivated by different factors, but at their core, they’re all relatively similar in that Trump is appealing to something in their psychology. Like I mentioned, I can only really speak from experience, so I’ll tell you what has worked for me. As a disclosure, these were people that only supported Trump, and had some ignorant views based on the false information he’s been spreading. This doesn’t apply to e.g. people that rat out undocumented immigrants to ICE, capitalist bootlickers, neo Nazis, etc. I usually advocate for non-violence, but you can punch those people in the face for all I care.

First and foremost, the main thing I’ve always kept in the back of my mind when dealing with Trump supporters is that at the end of the day, they’re also human. Humans are fallible, and our evolution as a social species has also made us so prone to mob mentality and blindly following others. There are a multitude of reasons as to why this occurs, but it tends to boil down to emotions, and not actual facts. From Wikipedia: “Herd mentality, mob mentality and pack mentality, describes how people can be influenced by their peers to adopt certain behaviors on a largely emotional, rather than rational, basis. When individuals are affected by mob mentality, they may make different decisions than they would have individually.”

It’s important to remember that how they are behaving is not necessarily who they truly are, and even though communicating with them may be difficult as a result, you have to forgive them for following herd mentality because they may feel pressured to believe certain ideas. It’s difficult, but compassion is a requirement for getting through to someone. 

If you’re having a discussion with the person you’ve mentioned and the topic of Trump comes up, the best way to establish a connection with them is to just listen. Acknowledge what they say by repeating it in a way that makes it clear that you are trying to understand their thought process. So many people respond by firstly stating their own perspectives, but this doesn’t show the other person that you are actually listening. Use this opportunity to find out what they are thinking, and remember what they said so you can analyze it later. I mentioned earlier that Trump supporters all tend to share certain psychological traits, and here are the studies, and the summary, that describe these traits in more detail. 

Figuring out which one(s) your family members could potentially be categorized in will help you understand what is going on inside their head, because you can do more research on that specific issue. What are they motivated by? What are they afraid of? Not only can you do research on their specific psychological traits, you can also find statistics that will refute their claims that they are using to justify their discrimination. That being said, bringing up objective facts can be difficult, because they are likely to not want to believe the hard evidence. Again, if you can coax them into a place where they are open to understanding the bigger issue, e.g. immigrants and crime (hint, statistical analyses show immigration does not increase crime), you can increase the chances of having a productive conversation with them. Another thing to be cognizant of is the language you are using. It’s very tempting to call Trump supporters things like “Trumpets” (and much worse), but this tends to make them tune out to anything else you may have to say. Again, remember that they are fallible humans that, while they may need guidance, also deserve to be treated with a basic level of respect. Along the same vein as language use, avoid using terms and phrases like “that’s wrong,” “you’re problematic/stupid/an asshole etc.,” (even if it’s true). It’s easy to respond emotionally because trying to get people to understand why what they believe is morally reprehensible means a lot to us, but you will have to fight that feeling. Preparing yourself with knowledge and strategies is the best way to combat the feeling of helplessness that causes the upset during discourse.

I guess a lot of it also boils down to getting them to listen to themselves. If you can guide them through their thought process, sometimes I find they start to realize what they say out loud doesn’t actually make sense. If that happens, it’s also important to not catch them in a “gotcha!” moment, even though it’s tempting, because they will feel ashamed and will likely shut down any further conversation. Listen, acknowledge, and make them realize you’re not going to shame them for their choices (you can vent privately to somebody you trust, but don’t take out your emotions on the person you are trying to get through to). At the end of the day, you want to change their mind, and if brute force doesn’t work, gentle guidance often does.  That’s all I can think of for now, I hope some of it is at least a little bit helpful! You’re welcome to continue this discussion, and let me know if you’d like me to respond privately in the future.

[roseyelii]

a keigo takami one-shot i posted on my wattpad, you should go check it out ;)

https://my.w.tt/d8lxeMBkk9

⚠️nsfw warning: smut⚠️

dirty talk, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), overstimulation

quarantine has gotten the better of everyone, ima (hopefully) be posting a couple of these with my fave babies

enjoy some bird man content. hope you guys love yagami yato👀

btw, h/n means hero name, okay now it starts

--------------------------

"breaking news! covid-19 strikes japan! country going into mandatory quarantine."

you stare at the TV in disbelief. great, a pandemic. just what the world needed. "keigo, are you hearing this?" you called out to your boyfriend. he poked his head out from the hallway and into the living room. he squinted his eyes at the TV as he read the news caption.

"oh, wow. does that mean we'll be out of work for a bit?" he asked, walking out into the living room. he wore a white tank top and grey sweatpants. you looked at him and shrugged. "i guess that will be up to certain agencies or maybe the people higher up along the food chain," you stated, not completely sure how this lockdown would work out.

"well, as long as i'm with my favorite girl, i'll be okay," keigo said, a cheeky smile stuck on his lips. he sat down next to you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. you rolled your eyes at his corny joke and kissed his cheek.

"you're such a dork," you chuckled, leaning into his touch. your phone started to ring loudly, vibrating on the table. you slipped away from him and said a small 'excuse me' before picking up the phone.

"hello?" you said, walking into the kitchen. "hello, is this h/n?" a woman said on the other line. "yes, this is her speaking. how may i help you?"

meanwhile, keigo was in the living room, channel surfing. most of the channels were showing coverage on the coronavirus so he decided to turn it off. he let out a heavy sigh and sunk into the couch, leaning his head back.

he looked towards the kitchen and saw you on the phone, pacing back and forth. he stared up and down your body, seeing how your leggings hugged your thighs and bottom.

keigo bit his bottom lip as he got off the couch, his body moving on his own. you hadn't noticed your boyfriend coming up from behind you until you felt his arms hug your waist as his wings tickled at your sides.

"yes, i understand. how long will the agency be closed?" you asked, into the phone. you leaned your head onto keigos shoulder, unintentionally giving him access to your neck. he smirked a bit and immediately went for your sweet spot, not giving you any mercy.

you let out a gasp and jolted to grab onto his hair. "yes, yes. i'm okay. i stubbed my toe is all," you lied, tugging slightly at his hair. which only egged him on even more. he smiled against your skin as he left purple hickies on your neck. its not like either of you were going out anytime soon.

"alright, ma'am. thank you for informing me. i'll try to come by later. bye bye," you said quickly, hanging up abruptly. "finally, that took forever," keigo huffed, turning you around to face him.

you gave him a stern look, a look a mother would give a child when he was in trouble. "listen, bird brain. that was a very important phone call. now if you'll excuse me, i have to stop by my agency and fill out some paperwork," you groaned, slipping out of his arms.

his lips curled into a frown and followed behind you, like a puppy. "oh, c'mon. i was just kissing your neck," he chuckled, following your into your shared bedroom.

"you knew, exactly what you were doing, keigo," you exclaimed, going into the closet and taking off your leggings. you went to grab a pair of jeans but was lifted off of your feet. keigo had grabbed you and thrown you over his shoulder.

"keigo! what the hell?! let go of me, you chicken wing," you yelled, kicking your legs slightly. he left a nice slap on your ass and hushed you.

as the two of you neared the bed, keigo slipped his hands on your waist. he dropped you onto the bed, climbing above you before you could protest. "awh, is momma bird angry?" he cooed, looking at your disheveled hair and flushed cheeks.

"damm, right shes angry! you can't just pick her up and throw her down onto the bed. i'm still in my undies," you scolded, attempting to sit up. keigo kissed your lips roughly, taking your bottom lip and nibbling on it.

your hands made their way to his hair, playing with the tuffs at the back of his neck. you let out a low moan as his thigh pressed against your core.

he pulled away and looked at you with a smug expression. "don't you gotta be somewhere?" he hummed, glancing from your eyes to your lips. "screw that, you started something now you gotta finish it," you mumbled, pushing him back down into another kiss.

he grinned against your lips, his hands going down to your thighs. he squeezed the sides of them and made them wrap around his torso. he broke the kiss to move down to your neck, attacking the sensitive spot from before. and renewing the previous marks.

your let our a small whimper and moved your head up, giving him a bigger space to work with. he took advantage of what you gave him and left hickies in his wake.

wherever he went, he licked, bit and sucked on your skin. he moved down to your collarbone which was slightly covered by your t-shirt. "princess, we've gotta take this off now," he whispered to you. his voice was smooth and he spoke in a low tone, sending shivers down your spine.

you quickly sat up and lifted your t-shirt over your head, revealing your breasts. "no bra, huh?" he hummed, using his right hand to massage one breast while he began to kiss the other. he took the sensitive bud into his mouth and played with it with his tongue.

"mmm, keigo. skip the foreplay please, i'm dying over here," you groaned, your core becoming needy for attention. keigo shook his head and clicked his tongue. "no can do, princess. i like teasing you like this," he smiled, coming up to be face-to-face.

he leaned down to your ear and whispered, "i like having you needy for my touch. being hot and bothered until you beg for me. its music to my ears." your cheeks become unbearably warm as your insides grew butterflies.

he was funny if he think he'd have you begging. you wouldn't cave that easily. you chuckled at his cocky antics and turned your head slightly towards him. "have fun trying to get me to beg. i won't fold, keigo," you challenged.

he raised his brow at your challenge and slowly nodded his head contently. he began to move down your chest and torso. kissing your skin until he reached the waistband of your panties.

he kissed right above the lace trim, going from one hip to the other. he placed your thighs upon his shoulders, his mouth hovering above your core. your breathing had become heavier as you felt his hot breath fan against you.

you refused to make eye contact with him so you leaned your head back, looking at the ceiling. before you knew it, you felt him press a soft kiss to your sensitive bud through the cloth of your underwear. then he looped his fingers through the top and dragged them down your legs.

you felt like it was eternity before your underwear had made it past your ankles. he probably did it agonizingly slow on purpose, too. it's something he would do. just to mess with you and get you all riled up.

before you knew it, his mouth came in contact with your core, sending a jolt down your spine. "a-ah! keigo~," you hummed, your hands gripping his hair. "my oh my, baby bird. you're so wet for me, is this what i did to you?" he asked, licking along your slit. he looked up at you through his lashes, seeing your flushed cheeks.

"mhm, yes! keigo, make me cum please," you huffed, arching your back as he licked figure eights on your clit. one of his hands left your thigh, using it to insert two fingers into you. "god, you taste so sweet. itadakimasu," he smirked before he started to suck on your sensitive bud, his fingers moving faster in you.

your mouth hung open, unable to make any sound. it was like the moan was caught in your throat, just barely on the tip of your tongue. keigo felt your walls starting to tighten around his fingers, meaning you were close.

he debated on whether he wanted to edge your orgasm or not. but decided to give you your release. he had teased you enough for tonight. "k-keigo, i'm close," you moaned out, feeling the knot in your abdomen starting to come undone.

"cum, baby. come for me," he said, giving harsh licks to your clit. after a couple of seconds, you let out a gasp. back arching and toes curling, you grabbed onto his hair. you tried to pull him away, seeing that you were sensitive now. he resisted and gave more attention to your clit, overstimulating you.

"pfff, k-keigo! s-stop," you cried, sitting up and gripping his hair. he pulled away with a cocky smirk on his face, his lips glistening with your juices. "sorry, baby bird. i just loved the look on your face when you were cumming."

he sat up and crawled above you, like a predator intimidating its prey. he stood on his knees for a moment as he took off his tank top, slightly coming off the bed for a moment to take off his sweatpants. his member sprang up to his abdomen, the tip sensitive and leaking with precum.

he hovered back over you and kissed your lips harshly, tasting yourself on his lips and tongue. the action made you moan lowly as you wrapped your legs around his torso. "eager, are we baby?" he hummed, pulling away from your lips.

"aren't you still sensitive from my tongue, gorgeous?"

"keigo p-please."

"please what, baby bird? use your words."

you let out a heavy sigh and bit your lip. "kiego, please fuck me. i need you, badly. i want you to fuck me."

he let out a low growl as he heard your words, lining himself up in no time with your entrance. "i told you i would get you to beg," he chuckled before he started thrusting in and out, not giving you a chance to adjust to him.

"shit, keigo! you feel so good!" you moaned, your nails scratching down his back. he groaned in your ear, whispering sweet nothings to you.

"god, baby. you're so tight. you take me so well, i love it," he said, grabbing one of your legs and propping it over his shoulder. he hit your g-spot perfectly, making you let out screams at this point.

"mmph, i love you!" you yelped, his dick hitting your g-spot repeatedly. "i love you, too baby. thats it, let all the neighbors know who's making you feel this good. tell them who you belong to," he grunted, grippping your hips.

"you, keigo! i belong to you," you moaned. you felt your heart beat against your ribcage as your sensitive core became close to release again. "thats a good girl. i can feel that your close, wait for me, okay?" he hummed, coming down to kiss your lips sweetly.

you hummed lowly and attempted to keep your orgasm at bay but at this rate, you could barely make it. "agh, cum for me, baby. i-i'm close," he moaned, his thrusts becoming sloppier by the second.

you felt the familiar warm sensation in your abdomen as you tightened around keigo's shaft. "oh, fuck!" you moaned loudly, arching your back into the air.

"s-shit, baby," he grunted, making one last thrust as he came into you. his wings started to twitch before they fully opened up as he came. he let the two of you ride out your high before he collapsed next to you. you closed your eyes and panted, waiting for you to catch your breath.

"that was hot," he chuckled tiredly, looking at you with hooded eyes. you let out your own small laugh and nodded in agreement. after a couple of minutes he walked into the bathroom and got a bath ready for the two of you.

"c'mon, princess. let's get cleaned up," he hummed as he picked you up bridal style. you wrapped your arms around his neck as he stepped into the bathtub, sitting you down in between his legs. the water was warm and felt just right against your skin.

you let out a satisfied sigh as you leaned into your boyfriends chest. he smiled down at your figure as he hugged you.

"keigo?"

"yes, princess?"

"did you pull out?"

"uhm,, not that i can recall."

"keigo, you're so lucky i'm on birth control!"

"i know! cause you know how easily i forget things."

"don't be surprised when there are little keigos running around here," you huffed.

he smiled down at you and shrugged, "that doesn't sound so bad."

[theouterdark]

Hello! In the light of Storyteller Saturday writeblr event, I'm sending some questions around & since I love your work, I wanted to ask you something too even if you don't participate. :P Sooo, you haven't told us much about Topiary Black. How is it going, first of all, and what are some of your plans for it at the moment. How is Coldwater Sound's 2nd draft going, you had mentioned you were thinking of two different versions of it. No pressure, this is only if you wish to talk about them. ^^

I’m somewhat restrained when it comes to revealing details about my WIPs while I’m drafting, and what I do share is only after deliberate consideration. That said, I’d love to answer your questions, but I want to touch on my reservations as well because I don’t think I’ve ever talked about it here.

Oversharing cripples my process and my work because:

A) My creative well empties

If I receive validation or catharsis from revealing information or excerpts before the work is truly done, my brain will trick me into thinking I’ve accomplished something, thereby:

B) I become unproductive

Which inherently is my natural state, which gives me unintended distance from the narrative, thereby:

C) The story wanders from my active memory

That’s mostly why I err toward ambiguity. But. Since I’m not actively working on these for a few more weeks, let’s jump in.

Status: Outlining

Topiary Black is progressing, if somewhat leisurely. I know most of the major beats, and some of the minor ones, but I’ve been indecisive on matters of setting and character. The main cast needs to be pruned, for starters (one of my weaknesses is adding far more characters than necessary in the initial draft, so I’m trying to save myself oodles of time by shedding some of the extra weight now).

I’m also having antagonist problems that I was cognizant of early-on but chose to ignore because problems like that are for Future Dylan. I think I’m zeroing in on something interesting though.

Occasionally, I’ll pen a scene when I can’t contain it anymore. But for the most part, there is too much on my plate with this project to begin writing in earnest.

As far as a timeline, my goal is to complete draft one by mid-late summer 2020. I think it’s doable, but I may postpone work until I get more of the worldbuilding firmed up.

I know that’s not much in the way of actual interesting information so here are some nuggets:

The bulk will be recounted in the first person by the member of The Aviary known as “Loon”

Also planning on using a frame story for her “present” timeline

It will tackle sexuality and identity far more than any of my previous works

Inspirations for Topiary Black include “The Library of Babel,” the Akashic records, Rabbits, Mr. Robot, and the art of Simon Stålenhag

It takes place in an alternate 1980s

I’m currently planning it to be one of three semi-connected projects, the other two being “The God Machine” and Deerfield Run, that will form a loosely-connected speculative fiction trilogy, but each will read as a standalone work

I think that’s about all I can reveal at the moment, let’s get on to the next WIP.

Status: Drafting

Oh boy, what a mess.

In short, draft two isn’t going. I touched on this in an earlier update post, but my current struggle with Coldwater Sound is not a fun one. I have two entirely different conceptions of how the novel should go, and in my heart, I know which one is gonna win.

And it’s the one that requires me to re-write the entire thing.

At its heart, it will remain the same. The characters and their relationships won’t differ wholly from the first draft, but the bulk, as it is, is far too convoluted. I’ll be trimming the core cast, cutting locations, and refocusing the plot on Blake the mystery of Penny’s disappearance.

That means losing a lot of stuff I like about the original, sadly. Such is the way of things. I may reconsider this by holding another reading of draft one.

Honestly, I’m far more focused on a different project that you didn’t ask about, but I’ll tell you about it anyway:

Status: Seeking Alpha Readers/Drafting

I haven’t done an official ask/announcement, but I’ve gained enough distance from The Devil from the Outer Dark to begin the Alpha Read. I know some of the changes I want to make, but I’d still like some reactions to build from. I want to keep it small, likely 3-5 readers, if anyone out there is interested.

It is technically a sequel to Coldwater Sound, but the first is not required reading. Just like The Murder of Roger Ackroyd isn’t required reading for Murder on the Orient Express. Blake is still the main character, there’s still a mystery for her to solve, and horror lurks around many a corner, but spoilers for Coldwater Sound are mild at best.

If you want to help me out or learn more about the project, shoot me a message here on my blog.

Tagging: @writingmyassoff, @erin-writes-stuff, @midnightstreetwanderings, @byjillianmaria, @bethwrotethis, @doux-ciel, @hilunawrites, @ghost-possum, @zmlorenz, @doubleviewfinder, @veronicadent, @els-writes, @dantedevereaux, @tlbodine, @hypotheticalwriterquestions, @hazeywrites, @reeseweston, @dor-rose-love, and @katabasiss. (Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from future tags for any of these projects).

D

[noelacciari]

alright this is kinda bad but I'm gonna ask anyway. so I'm a new/casual hockey fan and this girl I'm friends w is super into hockey and I'm kinda having to bluff my way through convos rn so could you give me a basic summary of the roster and stuff pls :)))

okay babe, so this is how we’re gonna set this up for you… personality quiz style. (also wait I’m assuming you mean Bruins so. im very sorry if this was about another team lol)

Step 1: pick your star

- Do you strive for perfection? Do you look for stability in a relationship? Can you appreciate a good beard? Do you need a perfect man to project all your feelings regarding men onto and then you never have to even look at another man in real life? Then Patrice Bergeron is the guy for you. He’s perfect. Like legit. Has been nominated for the Selke Award (best defensive forward) approximately a gazillion times, eventually they’re going to change it to The Bergy. Gorgeous play maker, dominate on the face-off circle. Quiet leader in the room. A pillar of the Boston community. The only person who can tame Marchand (we’ll get to him later). Every person in New England is AT LEAST 30% in love with him, regardless of sexual orientation. (I’m not even kidding). Future Hall of Famer. Without a doubt. (Forward (Center), #37, first line)

- Do you enjoy carbs? How about charming smiles? Do you enjoy men who toe the lines of fashion? Do you like a show, flashy lights and stunning tricks? Do you like people who make you smile, no matter how bad your day is? Then David Pastrnak is your man. Better know as Pasta (said with a deep Boston accent), he’s been tearing up the ice from the moment he arrived in TD Garden. A member of the Best Top Line in the League (alongside Bergeron - and that other guy who we will get to later). His goals are always absolutely nasty, just. Sexy, sexy hockey. Off the ice he’s sunshine personified, known for his chipped tooth smile, wearing checked suits and floral shirt, and just being generally the best. (Forward (winger), #88, first line)

- Are human sized chipmunks something you think would be pretty cool? How do you feel about Long Island? Would you think it’s funny if a guy who was a star player on a Boston team dated the daughter of a Pittsburgh coach? Do you think it’s even funnier if a guy who tweeted “I hate the Bruins” then proceeds to get drafted by them? Then Charlie McAvoy is your star d-man. At the ripe old age of 21, Long Island native Charlie McAvoy already carries a huge chunk of responsibility on the Bruins defense core. A future leader for the team (captain. imo), Charlie puts up incredible minutes, and is the perfect complement to his d-partner Zdeno Chara (we’ll get to him too). Also known as Cheeks (on tumblr) or Mac (by his teammates), Charlie isn’t afraid to throw his weight around on the ice, and he looks good doing it. Dude is a Bonafide Stallion. (Defense, #73, 1st Pair)

Step 2: Pick your Dad

- Are you vegetarian? How do you feel about EXTREMELY tall men wearing easter bunny onesies? Do you prefer to bike to work instead of taking the train? what about pigeons? If you consider pigeons friends, then Zdeno Chara is your new dad! (Boogie Woogie Woogie). You know how Bruins fans like to say - Don’t Poke The Bear? Well Big Zee is that hypothetical bear. Our beloved captain and father earned himself quite the reputation on the ice, known for his hard AF slap shots and even harder punches. Clocking in at 6′9″ and 250lbs, Zad is still a beast at 42 years old - and he apparently has no plans to retire. While his age doesn’t appear to be slowing him down on the ice, Zee has shown his softer side off the ice with his inspirational and extremely cute Instagram. He came into Boston in 2006 and was named Captain upon signing, and has forever changed the culture of the Boston Bruins. Chara facilitates an inclusive but hard working locker room, and his legacy will live on in Boston long after his retirement. (Defense, #33, first pair)

- Are you a dog person? Also are you American? Those are really the only 2 qualifications you need to chose David Backes as your dad. Although some of us older folks like me (at the stunningly old, reaching retirement age of 26) might consider Backes to be more of a daddy, the majority of Bruins tumblr view him as their Dad. Common nicknames include Dadkes and Papa, and his effect on the team after being brought back into the line-up during the playoffs has endeared him to fans. While his deal is… not great (he’s expensive!!) and he hasn’t performed up to how much money he’s paid, it’s clear that he’s a leader on the team. The young guys look up to him, and the older guys respect him, and that’s what we’s appreciates ‘bout him. Also. He LOVES animals. Backes and his wife Kelly (who have known each other since kindergarten how cute is that shit) have their own charity that helps animals!! (Forward (Winger/Center), #42, currently 2nd line)

- Were you really into magic as a kid (or currently)? Have you always gravitated to your one friend’s dad who was super quiet but super smart and taught you how to play chess at that cookout one time? Then your new dad is David Krejci! Sometimes called The Wizard, Krejci is known to make magic happen on the ice. Between no-look passes and somehow being able to know exactly where his wingers are going to be before they even know, tbh. Krej is probably the MOST underrated player on the Bruins, but he’s always dependable, and always seems to be there when you need him.  (Forward (Center), #46, 2nd Line)

Step 3: pick your weirdo

- Have you never eaten a vegetable willingly in your life? Do you consider yourself a chef - specifically for children? Do you think getting your teeth knocked out is fun and exciting? Then Jake “JD” DeBrusk is the dude for you! Goofy AF off the ice and a sniper on it, Jake is extremely worthy of being your chosen weirdo. He has a lucky winter hat named “tuukka” that he’s been wearing all playoffs, and he might only have one brain cell but we love him for it. At one point called a draft bust, Jake has been proving himself to be an elite player, and has been a steady winger for Krejci all season. Plus. He’s cute af. (Forward (winger), #74, 2nd Line)

- Is getting under other people’s skin one of your favorite activities? Do you like to piss people off by being better than them at everything? Does licking someone’s face in the middle of a hockey game seem like a Good Idea to you? Back in step number one did you chose Patrice Bergeron as your Lord and Savior? Then Boston’s favorite Pest - Brad Marchand - is the guy for you! Brad started off as an undersized fourth liner, and has worked his way up to one of the top scorers in the league. Outside of Boston he’s probably the most hated player in the NHL - earning himself a reputation for being a pest (at best), and sometimes being dirty (at worst). This year we are proud to announce that he did not get suspended once! Though he did come in just short of 100 Penalty Minutes. Marchy was our top scorer this year, and has become an integral part of this team. (Forward (winger), #63, 1st Line)

- Are you secretly an arsonist? Are frogs your favorite animal? Do you have a crush on that Pretty Jock that’s in all your classes and sometimes smiles at you in the lunch line? Then Danton Heinen is the weirdo for you. Danton has been a quietly steady performer for the Bruins this season, spending time on the top line with Bergeron and Marchand when Pasta was out. He’s growing into quite the play maker, and he’s known for making good decisions on the ice that lead to goals. Danton also happens to look like a frog, which is an important character trait imo. He’s a tumblr favorite, but he’s a good person to like even in real life, because he makes an impact on the ice. (Forward (winger), #43, 3rd Line)

Step 4: chose your conventionally attractive white boy

- OKay we’re not doing the questions thing because judging by your ask you may not even be interested in men so i’m just going to dive straight into the description. He’s tall with a strong jaw and perfect curls and pecs of a God. Charlie Coyle is a Weymouth, MA native who Boston brought back home at the trade deadline. He’s been a bit of a hero this playoff run, and he looks damn good doing it. The B’s have been searching for a good 3rd line center, and Charlie has filled the role perfectly. Personally, I am deeply in love with him, in case you could not tell. (Forward (center/winger), #13, 3rd Line)

- an integral member of the Bruin’s all important Line 1A (aka the 4th line), Sean Kuraly has got it all. Piercing blue eyes? Check. Perfectly highlighted hair? Check. Cute little chin? Double check. Though he’s been photographed wearing jorts and an open flannel shirt with nothing underneath it, Sean is still a certified Babe. He’s been Klutch in every playoff run he’s had with the B’s, and is the scoring force behind the 4th Line’s brawn. Not to mention, his signature celly is a leap from the ice! (Forward, (center/winger), #52, 4th Line)

- Brandon Carlo… how do I begin to explain Brandon Carlo? Brandon Carlo is flawless. He has two bible tattoos and a designer bulldog. I hear his hair is insured for $10,000. I hear he does Tri-City Americans commercials… in Washington. His favorite movie is Miracle. One time he met David Backes on a plane… and he told him he was pretty. One time he punched me in the face… it was awesome (’cause he missed). In all seriousness though, Monte is a hardworking, defensive defenseman, who has really shone this season. He doesn’t show up on the scoreboard often, but he makes it really hard for other teams to get goals. Even though he struggles to score empty netters... he’s still a babe. (Defense, #25, 2nd Pair)

Step 5: Chose your shorty

- If you’re thinking - wait, shouldn’t Marchand be in this category? Isn’t he the smallest guy in the World? Then Torey Krug is the Short King for you. An ELITE offensive defenseman, Torey is absolute dynamite on the ice. In game 3 of the Stanley Cup Finals Torey made history by becoming the first Bruins player ever to record 4 points in a stanley cup finals game. Krug is quick on his feet and can snipe from the blue line, but isn’t afraid to lay down the law when he needs to. Notorious for loosing his helmet so he can show off that flow, Torey also has a bulldog named fenway and a BABY on the way. (Defense, #47, 2nd Pair).

- Is talk shit, get hit a favorite saying of yours? Can you appreciate biceps the size of your head? Then Noel Acciari is your man. He might be short but he’s built like a tank, and he uses that bod to plow through guys on the ice. Noeldozer is known for laying down the cleanest hits, and we love when he takes out the trash! The Rhode Island Native got married last summer, and has a golden retriever named Thor. His mouth is currently fucked right up but I promise he’s actually kinda pretty. (Forward (winger/center), #55, 4th Line)

- Are you one of the apparent hoards of people that think a Boston accent is sexy? Could you get into a guy who says the fuck word on live television? Are collarbone tattoos a thing you admire? Do you like sexy, tough little son’s of bitches? Great! Matt Grzelcyk is the little guy for you. A BU grad who’s become a cornerstone of the Bruins d-core, Grz is a tough little cutie who works hard and gets shit done. More of an offensive defenseman, Matty G has been there for the team even when all of our other defenseman were injured. His Dad has worked at the Gahden for like a million years, and playing for the B’s is a dream come true for Matt and his family. He got taken out in Game 2 of the Finals, and the Bruins are currently seeking revenge. Dude’s got a good beard going too. (Defense, #48, 3rd Pair)

Step 6: Pick your goalie

- As much as we love Jaro, there’s only one goalie you need to know about when you’re learning about the Bruins... 2 U’s 2 K’s 2 Points... Tuukka Rask! The clear MVP of the Playoffs this year, Tuukka has been a brick wall in the net for the B’s. He’s known for being quick tempered and a little... wild, at times, having been caught on camera beating the shit out of a bunch of milk crates and on time brandishing a skate blade at the refs like a knife. Though some fans seem to never forgive Tuukka for the B’s loosing the 2013 playoffs, around these parts we love and respect and rely on his prowess in the net. Off ice, he kinda looks like the grinch (and knows it), though apparently Bergy thinks he looks like Harry Styles (i wish i was kidding). He’s also got 2 adorable little girls! (GOALIE, starter)

So now you’ve got 6 guys that you know about, right? I would pick 1 or 2 of those to be the ones you pay attention to. Listen for headlines about their goals/play, if you’re watching games, look for their numbers on the ice. All you gotta do is be able to say “Wow did you see that Coyle goal on Saturday night?” and all of a sudden you sound like an expert! (This works even better of you choose a guy not from the first category). 

If you have more questions about specific players or lines, feel free to reach out! I know not a lot but I know many people who actually do know things lol

(Also to any of Bruins tumblr who made it this far, I KNOW i’m missing your faves okay. Wagner, Clifton, Nordy, MoJo, Moore, and half the providence roster deserve a spot on here. But I’ve already written too much)

(Also Also, special thanks to Lil for helping me with Monte’s description) 

[astarlightmonbebe]

i'm literally about to spam your inbox and i am so sorry i just have a lot to say and no one else to talk about dramas with lol i tried to cut it down as much as possible but it's still a lot please don't hate me

dude, i could never hate you!! i was really excited to see my inbox so full lol. let’s see if i can get them all into one answer haha.

omg you admire my dedication……. an angel thank you so much!! when i get into a show that i like i make sure to watch at least one episode a day, i don’t know why it’s just how my brain works and i thought it was dumb but apparently i’m just dedicated :D if you really want to, why not watch it a second time around!! you might catch some stuff you didn't the first time!! it might be smart to wait to rewatch until we're closer to season two so everything is fresh in your mind!! (1/9)

that’s actually a really solid way to go about things, and i’m glad it works out like that for you. i already told you i’m a hare brain when it comes to this stuff - i’ll rewatch shows i haven’t even finished lol, and i rewatch shows i’ve finished in sporadic bits because they’re comforting (i did that a lot during quarantine). i want to rewatch, but i want to time it right, you know? like during a time i can afford to get immersed in it, maybe after i’ve finished some shows that i should finish (i need to make a list for the summer...). also, i heard the release date for season 2 got pushed back to 2022 instead of 2021 because of covid...i don’t know if that’s confirmed though.

!!spoilers for the arthdal chronicles incoming!! my feelings for the characters in arthdal have literally changed so much. in one moment i’ll admire a character and then absolutely hate them the next and it’s a lot of fun LOL despite that my feelings have never changed for eunseom! i’ve always admired him and i have a lot of faith in him and he’s just such a good person! (2/9)

i know, it’s like a normal kdrama but it really feels like you’ve watched 3 kdramas in one, because of length and how much happens. eunseom is everyone’s no 1 boy, honestly. he never did anything wrong *insert that meme, or whatever*. 

that being said, i’m still a little scared of him being inaishingi and basically ruling the entirety of the ago tribe because as we’ve learned from the show, being in a position of power corrupts you, no matter what your intentions are so i’m a lil nervous but then i also remember that eunseom is eunseom so i’m worried for nothing lol (3/9)

(side note but i’ll be talking about this from memory and it’s been like 10 months SO) but even though he’s like a god, he’s not actually a god, not yet. and eunseom at his core is good - that being said, i know what you mean; honestly haven’t thought about that. i’m more scared that he won’t know how to lead, or that he’s not exactly equipped to lead a rebellion - more like i’m worried he might act in his own self interest instead of for all of ago, if you know what i mean? because he’s leading this whole group he’s not actually a part of.

i also like dalsae, xabara, tanya, chaeuun and the neanthals!!! i have so much to say about the neanthals omg i really wish we saw more of them but i also understand why we don’t. they’ve almost been completely wiped out of existence so they don’t really get involved with anything which i completely understand, i just wish!!!! that when rottip met eunseom that he would’ve said or done something. i waited all season for that moment, waiting for it to maybe happen and rottip just walked away (4/9

i understand why but :/ ipsaeng is kind of a bastard but i still like him a lil bit. i also really like mubaek and yangcha even though they’re like. bad guys and members of the daekan forces (5/9)

one moment, i have to go remind myself who dalsae is...and oh, right, i do like him a lot! ipsaeng is pretty funny himself. and yes!!! the females in this show were awesome, especially xabara and chaeun and nunbyeol (tanya and taelha get their own category). yes!! when rottip and eunseom met, i really thought he would matter more to them, but i kind of understand why it went down like that...i think the other (hot) neanthal reminded rottip that they couldn’t really connect? ah, it was something like that. i had complicated feelings about it as well, but i hope that they’ll meet again in season 2 (and i hope nunbyeol wrecks arth with her sword, i remember when we first saw her fight with a sword in neanthal form; i was s c r e a m i n g).

mubaek is good, but also annoying. he knows this, but he’s complicit in all the evil actions going on. like, man, if you know that much,  you should use it to do something. knowledge is power! but he preferred to be sidelined and not do anything. yangcha is so hot...seriously, but i think he’s so interesting. the fandom needs to know why he has a mask on, there’s so many theories. i love how tanya could read his thoughts, but we still didn’t get many of them, but i think it shows how he’ll be more of a main character (hopefully) in season 2.

i know you asked for characters i like but i can’t help but mention the one character that i absolutely DESPISE. like saying i despise him doesn’t even truly explain my feelings for him (6/9)

I CANNOT STAND MUNGTAE he’s literal scum i hate him so much…. the fact that he betrayed eunseom and dalsae when they were literally coming to rescue him!! OH MY GOD and then everything that happened with teodae and eunseom having to see it and being traumatized by it………. i hate mungtae and i wish i wish he would face the actions of his consequences but there is no justice in arthdal so he will most likely get away scot free (7/9)

MUNGTAE CAN PERISH. he needed to have died in episode 1 seriously. it’s fine if you’re a coward, but not a snitch...everyone’s afraid, but at least they have a concept of loyalty. omg...teodae, the fact that eunseom got so traumatized by that made me want to sob. imagine you have a friend who you want to help save, but such friend loves their mind because of the situation they’re in and begins to believe the lies about you, tries to kill you, and then kills themselves in front of you...every episode of this show should have been titled: eunseom is wrecked and traumatized. again. part xx.

honestly, my hope is that tanya or eunseom straight up murders him. or dalsae. he can’t survive season 2, not on my watch.

a lot of people were complaining about the ending being vague or just not good in general, but i thought it was the perfect ending! the ending was relatively lackluster in the sense that nothing too crazy took place and what’s gonna happen next season was laid out relatively clear? i mean tagon wants to conquer the east and made a point to mention the ago tribe so i think we’re going see like eunseom’s return (?) as in he’s gonna actively become a problem for those in power in arth again (8/9)

i didn’t actually know people were saying that, because i thought the ending was so good. in my opinion, the whole finale of it serves to do two things which are a) tie up loose ends for season one and b) establish the continuation needed for season 2. arth was always going to continue, but it also builds suspense for season 2: there’s going to be a war, but tanya and eunseom are on different sides. saya knows he has a twin. AND there’s that awful women spy...she can perish as well. us clowns watching the show for the first time really thought we were going to get an eunseom and tanya reunion...we were played.

i’ve mainly watched like movies or variety shows for idols that i like but for some reason i never really got into kdramas until like right now. i’ve only seen 4 in total LOL but i’ve liked all of the shows that i’ve watched so i can’t complain. i’ve seen hello monster, arthdal, prison playbook and chocolate! (9/9)

oh, seriously? that’s amazing! i’ve watched 3/4, and right now i’m actually skimming through chocolate - i’m not really a fan of all the melo nonsense they have going on, so i’m mostly watching it for the sibling scenes and jun’s scenes haha...

and i’ve got this all in one ask, yes.

[the-mykie-show]

Seduction (Neganxreader college professor AU)

You've been trying to suduce your professor since you started his class, one day it finally works.

Gif not mine, full credit to the maker.

Requested by @walkingdead96

*rating* explicit

*warnings* student/teacher relationship, graphic descriptions of sex, rough oral sex, ruined orgasm, edging, daddy kink, Negan being an asshole.

From the moment you'd started his class last semester you'd had a thing for Negan.

Despite the fact that he was probably twice your age and your professor, he was ridiculously hot. He had this confidence, this swagger about him, that drew you to him like some kind of sexual magnetic pull, just his voice alone is enough to make you want to drop your panties. Usually you were a good student, your academics mattered to you, you always paid attention in class, but sometimes it was hard to concentrate on what Negan was teaching when all you could think about when he gestured to something on the board were those long fingers doing something else.

You try to pull your mind out of the gutter.

Goddamn you need to get laid.

The problem was it never worked, none of those men were Negan.

You had tried to seduce him, even regularly volunteering to stay after class and help with grading, or clean up, or whatever else he needed, but he always politely turned you down.

“And that concludes today's class. Kevin, try not to be so goddamn high next class,” everyone laughed and the stoner kid who always sat in the back of class looked embarrassed, “and Y/N I'd like to speak with you in private.”

Usually it freaked you out when your teachers asked you to stay late, but not with Negan. Anytime you got to be alone with him was fine by you.

You wait by his desk for your classmates to file out of the room, once they're gone you lean down on Negan's desk, pushing your tits up to give him a little peek of cleavage and the black and red lace bra you were wearing.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” you ask.

“Please just call me Negan. So the semester is coming to an end soon, and a little birdie told me that you're graduating this year, making this your last year in my class. I was wondering if you might be interested in doing a little extra credit project with me?” Negan watches you intently while he speaks, and you get the feeling this might be your last chance to finally seduce him.

You reach into your bag and pull out a lollipop, peeling the wrapper off and teasingly licking it before slipping the candy between your lips, and thrusting it into your cheek.

He watches you, and just when you think he's going to reject you something changes about him, his eyes darkened with lust, his lips curling into a smirk, his whole demeanor changed.

“Or maybe you're looking for a different kind of extra credit project?”

He stands from the desk, approaching from behind you.

“You've been trying to fuck me since you walked into this class, and I've behaved myself, I've turned you down, I did what I'm supposed to as a professor. But it's getting to be too much.” he walks over to the door and flicks the lock shut.

“First with the sexy little outfits, the little peaks of lingerie, the sucking on those fucking lollipops.” still leaning on the desk, too surprised to move, he pushes your top half further down, his hand slides down over the curve of your ass, and leans down to whisper in your ear “So you know what? I'm not gonna resist it anymore. And you're gonna get it now.” you feel wetness pool in your panties at his words.

“I'm gonna need you on your knees.” you do as he says and drop down onto the floor on your knees.

“Good girl, now shirt off, leave the bra though.” you obey again without question.

He reaches for his own belt buckle and undoes his pants, pulling out his already half erect member. You'd guessed Negan was well endowed, but he was really packing.

“You think you can take it?” he asks.

“Yes, daddy.” it slips out before you can think it through. What if he's turned off by your kink? What if you just blew your chance?

Thankfully for you and your soaking wet, very needy pussy, his smirk only grows wider.

“Good, because daddy is gonna need you to swallow every last inch. Do you understand?” you nod, and take his cock in your hand. He isn't fully erect yet, so you pull a trick you learned from your freshman year roommate, and you swallow him only half hard. He lets out a surprised moan, and it's the sexiest thing you've ever heard.

You almost gag on his length, but take a deep breath through your nose and regain control.

You pull off with a soft pop and tongue his tip, licking a drop of salty precome off. You suck his tip back in your mouth, staring up at him, making your eyes look as innocent and doe like as you can.

“That's a good girl, I'm going to fuck your throat now, okay?” you nod.

He grabs a handful of your hair and begins thrusting his hips, slowly at first, but then roughly.

Your eyes begin to water but you swallow him down eagerly.

“Damn babygirl.”

You let him have his way with your mouth, until he pulls away himself. Probably getting close to coming and not ready to be done with you just yet.

He pulls you to your feet, and spins you so that your back is to him and you're facing his desk, he pushes your top half down again, this time his hand trails down your bare back, his touch is soft, almost loving now. A stark contrast with how rough he was being mere moments ago. When he reaches your waist his fingers undo the buttons on your jeans, and tug them down to bunch around your feet.

His hands go back to your ass, softly brushing over the curve before he delivers a hard smack, you weren't expecting it, and you instinctively jerk away from him.

“Oh uh, sorry, are you not into that kinda shit?” he apologized, backing away a little.

“No, I am.” you admit “It just surprised me.”

“Good, I was hoping you like it rough and dirty.” you nod, giving him your consent to really go for it.

And he does.

“Did you touch yourself thinking about this moment?” he asked hand still cupping your ass.

“Yes.” you admit.

“How many times?”

“I don't know, lost count.” you're telling the truth, but you get another hard smack on the ass over your panties, followed by his hand gently rubbing the sting away.

“When was the last time?”

“Last night.” he smirks, giving your ass one last smack.

“You are horny for it, college boys these days just don't know how to treat a lady do they? You want daddy to show you what it's like to get fucked by a real man?”

“Yes daddy!” you whimper.

“Let's see how wet you are.” he slips his hand inside your panties, stroking your slit up and down with the tip of one finger, teasing it over your clit before pressing it into your entrance. You bite down on your lip to hold back the moan of pure pleasure just knowing that a part of Negan's body is inside you gives you.

He finds your sweet spot with no problem, stroking it a few times before he withdraws his hand. Letting your panties snap back into place.

“Damn you're already soaked.” you hear the distant sound of him sucking your juices off his fingers, and you can't hold back the moan anymore.

“Careful baby girl, we're in a classroom, don't get us caught.” he reminds you as he pulls your panties off, exposing you to him fully.

He takes his cock in his hand, and slowly guides it to your entrance, sliding just the tip inside you, getting it wet with your juices before slowly rubbing his tip against your slit. Working your clit with it until you're a squirming mess, desperate for him to stop the teasing and fuck your brains out.

“You ready for me to fuck you now?” he asks, still teasing you.

“Yes!” you practically groan.

You yelp in surprise when his hand comes down on your ass again “Yes what?”

“Yes daddy!” you respond and he rubs the sting away.

“Good girl.” he goes back to rubbing your slit one more time before he lines himself up with entrance and enters you with a smooth but hard thrust that sends your body jerking forward against his desk.

It's his turn to let out a moan now, but he still does a better job then you at keeping quiet.

Every time he thrusts he pulls all the out until just his tip is inside you and slams forward again, rubbing against your sweet spot deep inside you every time and making your body bounce against the desk, you can already tell your pussy is going to be so deliciously sore tomorrow. He makes you feel so full, and he's fucking you so deeply from behind.

Each thrust sends you closer and closer to the edge, and before long you can't keep quiet anymore, your moans are so loud they echo off the walls.

Negan silences you by slipping his fingers into your mouth.

“There we go, just suck my fingers like a good girl while I make you come.” He uses his other hand to reach around your front to rub circles around your clit, working the little bundle of nerves until your sure you're about to explode.

And then he stops everything. Leaving you hanging on the brink, bent over his desk, with your core literally aching for an orgasm, and feeling so empty.

You can't really protest much because his fingers are still in your mouth, but you can glare at him.

He laughs “That is for all the times I had to jerk myself off after class because of all the shit you pulled trying to seduce me.” he says, waiting long enough to completely ruin your building orgasm and drive you crazy with need before you feel his tip at your entrance again, moaning in relief around his fingers as he slides in again at last.

This time he doesn't stop when you're on the brink, but leans down and whispers in your ear “You can come now.”

It feels like it takes an eternity for you feel the familiar heat building in your core again, but when you do it feels like heaven.

It's the most intense orgasm you've ever had, you can feel your walls rhythmically squeezing his cock with each wave of pleasure, as he thrusts and rubs two fingers around your sensitive clit, while you suck his fingers trying not to let out a scream that the whole campus could hear.

You manage to ride out your orgasm relatively quietly, and after you've come undone Negan flips you around again to face him.

“Get on your knees again and take off your bra now.” you do as he says, dropping to your knees, you slide the straps off your shoulders slowly, unable to resist teasing him more even knowing that all these months of doing so had gotten you a ruined orgasm.

You finally reach behind you and undo the hooks, letting the lacy fabric slip away and reveal your breasts.

His cock is still wet with your juices and his precome, and slides easily between your mounds, he takes both hands putting them on either side and squeezing his cock between them as he begins to thrust. His thumbs rub over your nipples with every thrust, sending little tingles of pleasure down your body.

You can see when he's close to his orgasm so you bow your head and take his tip in your mouth, softly sucking on it while your breasts encircle his shaft. He lets out a loud groan and his body tenses.

You let him come in your mouth, and swallow without complaint.

His softening cock slips from between your breasts, and he uses his thumb to wipe some come off the corner of your mouth.

“If I would have known what a dirty little girl you are I would have given in to your little seduction attempts months ago.” he admits breathing heavily.

You feel almost too weak with pleasure to stand. Fuck if that wasn't the best sex of your life, you're pretty sure Negan has ruined all other men for you now, and you're praying to every God you can think of that this will be a regular occurrence.

“Now why don't you get dressed so we can talk about that extra credit project?”

Tagging: @negans-network @walkingdead96 @neganssavior-fanfiction @ariasnyder

If you would like to join the tag list to be notified whenever I post new Negan content please send me a message or ask letting me know to tag you.

[butchharrydalton]

I'm A Nonbinary Girl.

Tw: mention of transphobia and depression

Hey guys, obligatory coming out post for wrath month.

I want to be honest with all of you and say I'm a nonbinary girl.

I'm autistic, so I already feel some disconnect with my assigned sex because a lot of gender is social. Most of you already know that sense of gender is internal, so it would make sense that I'd feel this way when my brain is already non normative. A lot of autistic AFAB people like myself have shared similar feelings in their testimonies in the book Aspergirls by Rudy Simone.

I'm not sure if I always felt nonbinary. When I was really young, I loved being a girl. I wanted to be a princess and wear only dresses, and I didn't mind fitting into that box. For a while, I never thought about my gender. I was just a girl. 

When I was 12, I realized that I liked girls. I had been bullied when I was younger, before I came out, because people perceived me as queer. I was terrified. I'd only recently learned that being gay was acceptable and not something to be feared, and I didn't know how to think of myself. My whole life I'd fit into gender norms and now I was the one thing girls weren't supposed to be.

I learned more about queer culture, about how people perceived women who love other women, and the summer before seventh grade I made a choice. I chopped off my hair and went into school with a pixie cut. Being seen as queer was my choice this time.

And I realized that I loved being seen this way. I loved being androgynous yet still feminine. I loved looking pretty but looking butchy too. It was the first real time I'd stepped out of gender norms.

In eighth grade and late seventh grade, I learned about nonbinary genders. I had never thought before that it was possible to have multiple genders, have none, or maybe even have one in between or even completely outside boy or girl. I met out nonbinary people there and unlearned a lot of really toxic and transphobic myths. 

At first, I didn't really think their labels applied to me. But when I tried to picture my gender identity at the end of the year, if only out of curiosity, I saw it as a rectangle filled with mostly pink with a little purple on the bottom. A girl, but not quite. 

That summer, my parents signed me up for a music camp. It wasn't just an ordinary music camp. It was specifically for girls and gender nonconforming people, and we learned how to play rock music in assigned bands. On the first day, we got lanyards with our name on it, and the leaders of the camp told us we had to choose pronoun buttons. 

i don't know why, but I panicked. What was I supposed to pick? I felt uncomfortable using just she, but felt like a faker if I chose they. I ended up getting both buttons. It felt right for a few days until I turned it back into the staff when it stopped feeling right.

But that should've been the end of it. 

i still had feelings that I was mostly a girl, but not quite. On occasions, I would see myself as fully female. I would be okay with only she, and knowing I was a woman. On other days, I felt more androgynous. 

In ninth grade, the feelings kicked in again. This time, I had real dysphoria for the first time. During the first semester I tried to make my voice sound deeper and I wore clothes that made my chest less obvious. I didn't like my curves, or my femininity. I tied my hair up in hopes that I would look more masculine.

i thought for a while I might be a trans boy or genderfluid. Sometimes, being a girl was alright. But others, I couldn't stand it. Even then, I got those feelings. You know the ones. Almost a girl. But not exactly. 

During winter break that year, I was really depressed. I wanted so badly not to be a girl anymore, but I didn't come out or commit to a label because I worried that I was faking. That I was only doing harm to actual trans and nonbinary people. That I was being cringy and that I was a girl looking for attention by feigning being trans.

My dysphoria faded, but when kids at my school asked for my pronouns I told them any would work. Sometimes my dysphoria would come back. Later that year, I realized I liked the label genderfluid best, and began to love my masculinity and my femininity. Strangely enough, I felt that I almost became more feminine because I hadn't really embraced that in a long time. On my masculine days, sometimes wearing a dress gave me the best feeling.

I came out to a couple friends, and began to look at more genderfluid pride posts. At the local queer pride dance, I made a button for myself. The genderfluid pride flag was the pattern. 

At that dance, I encountered a demigirl. I'd met them before at a different event. They wore dresses and had long hair, but they used gender neutral pronouns. I liked the idea of that. Being femne, but not necessarily female.

I never did come out as genderfluid to more than a few people. Over the summer, before tenth grade, I decided again that being a girl was fine. I was cis, I told myself. 

But someone in my family came out, or attempted to come out, as nonbinary. This person was not me. Some of my family reacted pretty badly, and told them not to use labels and that they were really cis and looking for attention. They thought nonbinary people were special snowflakes who just wanted to be better than everybody.They thought the whole concept of a third gender was too far.  

I got really depressed again. I told myself that since I'd introduced that person to the possibility, it was my fault they were nonbinary and that it was my fault they had dysphoria. I should've been mad at some of my family members for being transphobic instead.

 I got through it, and the start of the second semester was a lot better. A few months later, I started using they/them pronouns. I liked it. It felt right. I only really stopped because I got insecure, and the whole faking worry came back. Apparently I seemed pretty androgynous, because some boy called me an it on the bus. I told him I was a girl, but to be honest, I didn't mind.

At the end of the year, I was pretty much sure of what label I would use. Nonbinary girl. I'd first heard of it when Rebecca Sugar came out, and I was surprised that was something you could identify as. 

i chose the label I did because I feel that I am a girl, but mostly. Like I'm a woman and another identity at once. My nonbinary identity is less pronounced than my feminine one but it's definitely there. You could probably call me bigender if you wanted to. There are times I fully feel like a cis woman, but most of the time nonbinary girl fits. I guess that technically makes me fluid or flux. I don't want too many labels, though, so nonbinary girl is fine. I don't like being called just nonbinary because femininity is still a core part of me.

I'm now 16 and headed to my junior year of high school. I don't plan on coming out to my family, but I will switch my pronouns from just she to both she and they. 

I am a nonbinary girl. I am a lesbian. 

This might change later, or I might decide I don't like to identify like this anymore. But this is who I feel that I am. I've spent so long feeling guilty, worrying that I was a trender, and being anxious about which label that I ignored my truth.

It's taken years to find, but here it is. 

I'm a Nonbinary Girl. 

[cmcsmen]

Attention or Distraction

Trust and waiting on God's timing for His perfect blessings.

Where your focus is, and what has your attention, has you. If it is not truth, it is a distraction. Trust and wait on the Lord to reveal truth and wisdom, so that you don't miss the blessing that He has for you.

It may surprise you when I say this, but, while growing up I used to lie all the time.  And I did this until about my high school days, for various reasons, but the point I want to make is that I realized how exhausting it was to remember what lie I told to what person. The other danger I found about the lie, is that you can become a chameleon (changing) towards issues, which, over time this causes people not to trust you because they don’t know where you truly stand.

In our culture today, there are many messages calling for our attention, and it cam become hard to tell if it is truth or a distraction. As Catholic men we are called to be in the world but not of the world, to take the high road as it is said, and stay focused on the substance .... the mission .. to live the Gospel message through our words and deeds, and get our families to heaven.  The key to doing this, I think, is to keep your eyes fixed on Jesus. Because we get ahead of God when we listen to other people more than God. One thing I need often is to spend time to drain my brain, so that all the noise around me pales to God's Word and prompts from the Holy Spirit.

This truth is well put here, the best I have heard, "If it is a lie, it may change, because a liar has to have a lot of memory power. If it is truth, you can ask me in the middle of the night and it will still be the same."

I think it is then important, in this regard, to always seek the original source when gathering information towards making decisions in life, if something really grabs your attention. If you need to then, consider to bring this to the Lord for discernment before you listen to what others have to say. There is this saying, 'if the Lord brings you to it, He will get you through it'. 

Likewise, when searching for information and answers to your questions, you may find articles or (news) sources that quote what people / influencers say about the matter. Many times, you will find today, that one sentence out of a paragraph is shared from that influencer and the author of the article then changes the whole narrative. We are a culture now that is informed by the headlines and not so much the full story.

In other words, because I talk with Catholic men a lot, many conversations overlap on church teaching, what the pope says, politics, and the archdiocese or the Vatican. So I bookmark and check regularly the social media profiles, blogs or documents, from the Pope, the US President, our Cardinal, the US Bishops, and the archdiocese. Over time, because of this, I have learned what sources to trust and what sources or people ore a distraction from the truth (To be more clear, I'm not on social media or follow / subscribe to these sources, but just bookmark the public content and view what they are saying). And you can do the same thing with family members or people in your line of work. This is how you learn who your real friends are and who to trust.

Getting Ahead Of God - If we're being honest, most of us would admit that we prefer our own timetables to those of our Father in heaven. But what blessings do we miss by rushing ahead of His plan? We always have time to wait on God, and that time will always be well-spent. Learn to surrender your schedule to God, trusting that His timing for all things is perfect.

As with this blog post, I usually have a hand-full of posts in draft mode. I wait on the Lord to direct what to use and what not. So, while on conference call with the core CMCS-Team, one member talked about recent experiences in his life, and his response to them is to wait on the Lord for direction. Then the light bulb went on how I have this topic message in drafts, and that this is my confirmation, and why you are reading this article now.

God give you peace.

Frank J Casella, CMCS-Director