#but I've gotten it under control since then

[shurple]

OH here's a list of some more if you wanna look into it

[dontmixpaintinyourcoffee]

This one goes out to all the bitches who love some good Safehouse Era Horror. It's me, I'm bitches. I want Jon and Martin to be fucked up and eldritch but I want them to be fucked up and eldritch and loved

(Notes under the cut because I can't help myself. Heads up, I do go into some detail of how Jon gets injured so I can explain my thought process for how I designed his scars. All canon-typical and fairly clinical in tone.)

Here's how I picture Safehouse Jon!

He doesn't need glasses anymore by this point, so he should just be wearing empty frames, but I drew this before I settled on my glasses headcanons. This drawing looks better with the reflection anyways.

He hasn't gotten a haircut since before his promotion to Head Archivist. He doesn't love the weight of it on his neck, but he also uses it to fidget, and he really doesn't want to go through the whole process of cutting it. He's disliked haircuts since he was a kid (People: Bad. Small talk: Bad. Touching: Bad. Loud sounds: Bad. People talking all at once: Bad) and since his time with the Circus he's only grown more reluctant to go and get it done.

At this length his hair is naturally pretty curly but he is. Not taking care of it. I actually put a lot of effort into trying to make it look brittle and tangled (I have a lot of experience lol, my hair is quite thick and I've always hated taking care of it. Yes I am also projecting my feelings about going to a hairdressers onto him why do you ask.)

The various scars were a bit of a strange task, but anyone who has seen my takes on The Bad Kids knows I'm not averse to selective realism in my fiction. Easiest one was the neck, I always pictured Daisy making a vertical cut based on "through the voice box". The larynx is longer than it is wide, so I think Daisy would go for the method that dealt damage across the largest total surface area. Yes I am aware that I'm speaking the same way Martin does when he explains his corkscrew.

The worm scars were easy because I barely drew any. There are a few marks on his cheek, but they're just surface bites. I picture most of his encounter with Prentiss showing on his legs, particularly on the right side, with enough damage there that he starts using a cane after the incident to keep weight off his right leg. More research to be done on this particular detail.

Finally the burn on his hand from Jude. This was the weirdest one to figure out just because of the nature of the injury. How do you quantify the damage done to an epidermis by a living manifestation of sometimes-boiling wax that can heat and cool at will? I settled on it being a second-degree burn that healed supernaturally fast, containing the damage to the space Jude had direct contact with. He'd probably have some mobility issues there as well. I know there are ways to help with mobility and pain after a severe burn, but I don't know how much of it Jon would actually. Do. Like I said, definitely further research to be done on these last two.

Hey so I'm gonna ask you to stop and consider the horror of the watcher. The helplessness. The guilt. The inherent terror of being a spectator, a participant by proximity but not by action. The horror of not being able to look away, of being a bystander. Jon forgets to blink sometimes. But wouldn't it be so much worse if there were no eyelids at all? That's how I interpret the description of The Archivist being "All Eyes" :D

I love a good Many-Eyed Jon, so I whipped up my own interpretation here. I think the more he Becomes the more he starts to resemble the thing from the dreams. He has a lot more control of it in S5, but it still creeps up on him and he has to consciously go back to a human shape.

[intromortal]

ꕥ MAKE YOU MINE ⸝⸝⸝ lee heeseung

lee heeseung doesn't do relationships or any of that 'labels' stuff, it's a known fact. yet when jay's gaze lingers too long on you, he can't help but leave his mark on you in one way or another

this work contains ⋆ smut. mdni. jealousy, p in v, creampie, no protection, manhandling, name calling, degradation!!! hair pulling, mean hee won't kiss you, kinda toxic situationship thing going on, Feelings, reader is kinda crazy but also i've had too much caffeine today So ⸻ rules ⋆ m.list

length ⋆ drabble ⸻ 1.8k words

Heeseung, all things considered, is a pretty chill and laid back guy. Not prone to big displays of jealousy, especially anywhere public.

Most of the time he's quietly laying back on a couch at a party across the room, watching you with a glint in his eyes as you reject yet another guy trying to sneak his way into your pants. There’s something about the way you so obediently glance his way every time someone tries to flirt you, how your expression ever so slightly shifts to something he would describe as needy when he slouches further into the soft brown cushions, legs spread almost as if to invite you over on his lap.

It’s been months since you started fucking, and as embarrassing for you as it feels to admit, you two haven't really put a label on what your... status actually is. You’re definitely more than friends—though you don't know if you would even consider Heeseung your friend in the first place—but you also don't believe you're anywhere close to being a thing yet. That litter sliver of something keeps you fucking hooked on Heeseung though, even when you know it's terrible for you.

And he enjoys every second of it. How you're so loyal to him even when he doesn't give you any reason to be.

He’s confident you'll follow him around everywhere like a little lost puppy as long as he keeps feeding you whatever crumb you need; a gentle brush of his hand whenever he greets you, a soft compliment whispered in your ear before leaving you to find something to drink, a sweet forehead kiss at the end of the night when you've both found your way between the bed sheets. I’ve got it under control, he thinks.

Yet he can't find any explanation—one that he’d make peace with, that is—for the scorching rage that overcomes him whenever he sees you and your bestie walking hand in hand around campus. The slightest twitch to his eye when he notices how bright you seem to be around Jay, how hard you laugh at his jokes and how touchy you are, shoving his shoulder away when he makes a stupid comment, yet letting your hand linger on the cotton of his shirt. There’s a different light coming from within you when he's around, and Heeseung fucking hates it with his entire being.

Mostly because he doesn't want to admit what it really is. Lee Heeseung is the furthest thing from a relationship-kind-of-guy you could possibly ever find, and it's always been this way, everyone knows.

To fuck with him is to make peace with the fact that you'll never be anything more than someone to warm his bed—or car backseats more often than not. And most are okay with that as long as they get their hands on a piece of him, no matter for how short. You were okay with that too, at the very start. It just doesn't help that lately he has fucked you like he loves and hates you at the same time, and while you try your best to not let his empty calculated affections tie you down to him too much, it's gotten harder and harder to escape the literal black hole Heeseung is.

You promised yourself to only orbit around him for a bit, then escape at the first pull you feel is too strong. But here you are, on the event horizon anyway.

His lingering stares whenever Jay is around don't go unnoticed by you, far from it actually. And maybe you even play into it a little too much, because here you are, underneath Heeseung, and for the first time in weeks he's fucking you like love is the furthest feeling possible from both his mind and heart.

It's funny, how he's tried to maintain his cool around you so desperately, and what finally breaks him is Jay staring way too long at your ass for it to be a mistake. There’s nothing Heeseung would have loved more than to beat him to a pulp, for looking at his girl like that.

Except you're not his girl—he hadn't even realized he really wanted you to possibly be until then—so he can't do that. But what he can do instead is take it out on your poor unsuspecting pussy.

"You are such a nasty slut," he whispers against your lips as he pistons into your weeping cunt, ignoring every attempt you make to kiss him, biting down on your bottom lip when you don't catch the hint. "Walking around in that tight black skirt, for what?" It feels like he's spitting venom at you, a primal edge to his tone unlike anything you've ever heard from him. Despite everything, you'd be lying if you said it didn't make your pussy clamp even harder around him, trying to milk his girth for all it’s worth.

You take too long to reply for his liking, his hand digging almost hurtfully into your cheeks to force you to look at him. "For. What?"

"I– fuck, i don't know."

He looks at you incredulously, like you must've gone dumb on his cock already, while his movements come to halt, despite your little cries and begs for him not to.

"Yes, you fucking do," he spits, grabbing your thighs and flipping you over onto your knees. A little scream rips out of you at the sudden motion as he manhandles you in whatever way he wants, paying no mind to any possible aching body part of yours or any discomfort you may feel. "Wore it to flaunt this ass around, didn't you? I know you did."

He lands a harsh smack on the skin of your bottom, kissing his teeth in annoyance when your entire body jerks forward, front collapsing on the bed. He eases his cock back into you in one thrust, setting a pace that is somehow faster and harsher than the one you could barely keep up with earlier. "Wanted  Jay to bend you over like this, huh?"

"N-no! I– ngh." Your rebuttal is cut short by his hips slamming into yours with a harsh thrust, his thick hand pushing your head against the sheets, uncaring of all the drool that's dripping from your mouth, your eyes rolling into your skull. He plants one of his feet into the soft mattress, the new angle helping him reach so much deeper inside you as the hold on your hips becomes nearly unbearable, sure to leave a flashy bruise.

Good, he thinks. Let everyone know I own you.

It doesn't matter that you two will still not put a label on whatever you have going on after this, Heeseung will find a way to mark you up with his actions instead. He'll fuck you so good even in the off chance you give Jay a chance all you'll think about is gonna be going back to him right after.

"Oh, shut the fuck up." He grabs some of your hair, using it as leverage to fuck into you even harder, the mix of pain and pleasure so unbelievably delicious you don’t even know what to do with yourself if not just lay there and take it all. "That’s all a slut like you is good for anyway, shut her mouth and let me use her pretty pussy as I please."

And it doesn't matter for you either you realize, a fucked out smile spreading on your face as he takes you like he has never done before, because to get a reaction out of the ever so collected Lee Heeseung, it means you have made him your bitch as much as he has made you his. He just doesn't know it yet.

The sudden thought is so euphoric it pushes you close to the edge instantly, your cunt clenching around him more and more while Heeseung is behind you wondering why he just heard a giggle leave your throat in the midst of it all.

"Is this some kind of fucking joke to you?" His voice is rough, but the hint of uneasiness behind the facade is easy to pick up on, it only spurs you to laugh more—as much as you can manage, because soon his thrusts get angrier and you don't know if you're laughing, crying or moaning anymore.

You taste the salty tears running straight into your open mouth, and you don't exactly know why you're crying because you have never felt lighter, even with the harsh, repeated press of Heeseung's hips against your red, marked up flesh.

Heeseung thinks you must've gone delirious on his cock, the proof being the very white ring you're leaving on the base of his cock, and while his chest blooms and tickles with something unfamiliar to him, he can't help but want even more. He wants to give you even more.

He doesn't recall when this punishment he's inflicting on you turned around to him chasing your approval so fucking bad, but he can't stop. He can't stop himself from gawking at your bent back littered in his marks, he can't stop himself from bending down to mouth at your neck when all he initially wanted to do was put you back in your place, he can't stop himself from letting his hand find your familiar little bundle of nerves to roll circles on it.

He tells himself it's not for you, it's for him, so he can hear all the divine noises you're making for just a little longer, just enough to reach his orgasm.

His lips brush your nape again, and he wishes he hadn't turned you over so he could taste your laugh right off your lips. He almost opens his mouth to say something he might regret, but he stops himself with a low, guttural moan and a stripe licked on your skin instead.

Neither of you last long after that, and you come with shudder around him, cunt milking him for all he has, all he is worth. He gives it all to you, filling you up so well it has you clawing the sweaty bed sheets beneath you.

You're glowing underneath him as he gets off of you, and Heeseung doesn't want to linger on the fact that his chest cavity, where his heart is supposed to be, glows just as much for you. It's a scary thought.

"You're mine," you whisper, like you've finally cracked the code to something you couldn't wrap your head around for the longest. You state it like a fact, like how you do when you say things commonly agreed upon—like the earth being round and Sim Jaeyun having the prettiest dick on campus.

You don't turn to Heeseung when he says nothing after and all that fills the room is the swooshing of his clothes being collected from the floor and your front door shutting with a soft thud.

It doesn't matter, because whether he likes it or now, you know he has nowhere to go if not back to you.

[lemonabouttodrop]

How Could You?

Azriel x Reader fic

Summary: Azriel’s sharp words cut deeper than either of them expected, leaving a silence heavy with unspoken feelings. You walk away, heart aching, while Azriel is left alone with regret he won’t yet let himself address.

Warnings: Angst. Hurt no comfort (for now?). No use of y/n.

Note: As you'll probably realize after reading this, yes indeed, this is my first fic ever. I've been reading- fangirling over- the scarily talented writers on here and just thought to give it a try. So, by all means, lemme know if i should stop trying.😭

[part2] linked here.

He didn't realize what he'd said until it was too late. Until they stood there in utter silence. Until you walked away. Until his very being was telling him to go after you and his shadows had moved to the corners of the room as if disgusted by him.

He hadn't meant it, of course he hadn't meant it. But he'd said it anyways and so he sat, in the kitchen of the House of Wind, with his head in his hands as his mind replayed the moment your face fell. The moment you registered his poisoned words.

It had been a stupid fight to begin with, he realized. You'd ignored his orders of simple observation and instead jumped into battle. Typical. You'd gotten the job done, sure. Yet he couldn't help but panic at the thought of your identity being revealed. You didn't even live in the House of Wind for him to keep an eye on you and your safety. And so, one mistake could cost you your life.

And that scared him more than he'd ever admit.

Yet, for him to shout like that? He'd practically cornered you the minute you'd winnowed back, still battered and bruised from the fight. And he couldn't fathom why he'd lost control like so.

Or that is what he told himself at least.

But he'd been pissed and scared.

Now he'd probably messed up the one good thing in his life.

The one joy.

It had been 3 days 2 nights 7 hours and 18 minutes since you'd talked to him.

It had been 1 days and around 8 hours, still counting, since you'd even looked at him.

He. was. losing. his. goddamn. mind.

His shadows seemed to be just as revolted by his words as him. They reached out to you constantly, even if you were no where near him.

That was the problem. You didn't want to be around him at all.

Every single time he tried to talk to you, tried to get you to even look at him. You managed to find ways to avoid him.

You weren't even trying to hide that anymore. Everybody knew something was up but nobody dared question what happened considering how Azriel looked like he'd smite the first person who talked to him.

He was distracted constantly these days. He used to always schedule a few hours of doing nothing so that he could talk to you, train you, have lunch with you, go shopping. Whatever your heart desired.

Now? Now he'd spend those hours training, to get you off his mind and yet, thoughts of you plagued his every waking moment.

He must've thought of a hundred different scenarios of how he would apologize to you. Hundreds of scenarios, most of which ended with him begging and pleading yet none seemed enough. None seemed worthy of the hurt he'd caused.

Nothing seemed worthy of you.

You were his spy, of course he'd taught you well. And now you were using his own teachings against him it seemed. You were anywhere he wasn't, and though it hurt you to blatantly avoid him so, it hurt more to know what Azriel really thought of you.

To know that the worst things you thought of yourself were exactly what he thought too.

To know that when he would take care of you after missions, he was probably just coddling you.

And when he would listen to you as you opened up to him, under the stars, in the darkest hours of the night, all he might have been doing was taking pity on you.

To know that you might just have been another project to him. Another thing to fix.

To know that the one person who truly fully knew you, also saw the ugliest parts of you and also considered them as weaknesses.

And so you did the one thing you knew to do best, you hid and you shut down.

You weren't a very quiet person but every time you would come to the House of Wind, which wasn't very often now, the reminder of his words seem to just pull your tongue out, tie it into a tight knot and shove it somewhere deep in your heart.

Because although you were a spy of the Night Court, fierce and unyielding. Though you held up your centuries old carefully crafted facade of the strong fearless faerie, he'd seen through it all and it scared you how much his words seemed to affect you.

How close to heartbreak this felt.

part 2 linked here aswell.

[daryltwdixon]

Teach You IV

Summary: Daryl can’t seem to get ahold of himself after the night you spent together. For days, you're all he can think about—your voice, your touch, the way you've unleashed a part of him he never knew existed. Nothing else matters, nothing else feels right, and when he sees you now, he knows he’s coming back for more. Always.

warnings: smut, MDNI, dirty talk, Daryl is a man possessed, pinv, oral, fingering, Daryl's POV

a/n: the amount of messages I've gotten about this fills my little heart with so much joy, you guys!!! thank you for loving what I do :')

not super proofread! sorry! will check later

The late afternoon bathes the room in golden light, casting soft shadows as Daryl watches her. She’s standing there, completely absorbed in some meaningless task—folding laundry, shifting supplies, something so mundane he can’t understand how she’s focused on it when he’s right here. She’s been taking up all the space in his mind, all the air in his lungs, and she has no idea.

Well, maybe she does. She’s the one who did this to him. The one who made him feel insatiable, so utterly out of control over his own thoughts and body.

Daryl leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest, but it’s just to steady himself. His blood is running too hot, his heart pounding too fast, and it’s all because of her. His gaze drags over her, over the way her shirt clings to her back, the soft curve of her hips, the little furrow in her brow as she concentrates. She’s so calm, so collected, like she hasn’t absolutely ruined him.

Ever since that first night—hell, every night since—she’s been all he can think about. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees her. Feels her. The way she looked at him, the way she touched him, the way she felt under him—warm and soft and his. His cock has never been this hard, not at midnight, not first thing in the morning, and definitely not all goddamn day. And it’s all because of her.

His jaw clenches as the memories flood back: her taste, sweet and heady on his tongue. The way she whispered his name, gasping and desperate, like he was the only man in the world who could make her feel that way. Taking her for the first time, the way her body shifted and shivered beneath him as he rocked into her. It was like a switch he didn’t even know existed had flipped inside him, and now he’s nothing but want, need—fucking hunger.

His hands twitch at his sides. He tries to rein it in, to give her space, but it’s useless. His thoughts are wild and untamed, like he’s been starved his whole damn life and she’s the only thing that can satisfy him. He wants to feel her again, taste her again, bury himself so deep inside her that neither of them knows where one ends and the other begins.

And she’s just standing there, so calm, so unbothered. How can she not feel it? Doesn’t she know what she’s done to him?

“Alright,” he growls, the sound low and guttural as he finally pushes off the doorframe, done with just standing by and watching her as he unravels.

Her head snaps up, her hands pausing mid-motion. “Daryl?” she asks, her brow furrowing in confusion at the intensity in his voice.

But he doesn’t answer. He can’t. Words won’t do it, won’t scratch the itch clawing at him, the fire burning through his veins. He crosses the room in a few quick strides, his movements rough and purposeful. His hands grip her waist before she can react, lifting her clean off the floor and tossing her over his shoulder like she weighs nothing.

“Daryl!” she squeals, her fists playfully tapping at his back, though there’s laughter in her voice. “What the hell has gotten into you?”

He doesn’t bother answering, doesn’t stop. He’s already heading for the nearest surface—the couch, the bed, the table, he doesn’t fucking care. All that matters is her, laid out for him, ready for him to take her apart.

When he reaches the couch, he lowers her just enough to drop her onto the cushions, her legs still dangling over the edge as he looms over her. She looks up at him, her chest rising and falling as she takes him in, her eyes widening slightly at the look on his face.

“You’ve ruined me,” he growls, his voice like gravel as his hands cage her in on either side. “I can’t stop thinkin’ about you. About how you feel. About how you taste. I can’t think straight, can’t sleep. You’ve fucked me up, woman.”

Her eyes widen, her lips parting as she looks up at him, her breath catching in her throat. She’s not used to this—him talking so much, his words spilling out in a frantic, unfiltered rush. He knows it too. Knows he can be a little aloof, a bit of a dick when it comes to talking about what’s on his mind. But she’d broken him, shattered whatever walls he’d kept so carefully constructed, and now he couldn’t stop the rambling, couldn’t stop the truth from pouring out of him.

His hands travel up her body, sliding over her sides, his rough fingertips grazing her skin, skimming over her stomach. He slots his hips between her legs, pressing her further into the couch as her thighs fall open for him.

“I—” she starts, but he cuts her off, his hands finding her waist, his touch rough but trembling.

“Please,” he mutters, his voice low and desperate, almost trembling with the weight of his need. His hands glide over her sides, brushing against her ribs, feeling the heat of her skin through her thin shirt. “I need you. Every inch of you. Right fuckin’ now. Tell me yes. Please, say yes.”

Her cheeks flush even deeper, the red blooming across her neck and chest as she stares up at him. And then, slowly, her hands lift, sliding up to rest on his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

“Yes,” she breathes, her voice a soft, breathless sigh. “Yes, Daryl. Always yes.”

It’s all he needs. An inhuman noise rumbles deep in his chest, primal and desperate, as his lips crash against hers, needy and unrelenting. His hands grip her thighs, pulling her flush against him as he kisses her like a man possessed, all teeth and tongue and sheer, insatiable hunger.

"Goddamn," he mutters against her lips, his voice shaking as he pulls back just enough to look at her. His hands slide further up her legs, gripping her ass, his thumbs imprinting into the soft curves of her skin. "You've got me so fucked up. I can't think about anything else. Just you. Just this.'

His lips trail down her neck, his teeth grazing her pulse point as his fingers hook into her shorts. He doesn't wait for permission this time; he knows she's all in, knows she's just as wanton as he is. He tugs them down in one rough motion, taking her panties with them, leaving her bare and spread out before him.

His gaze drops to her center, and he groans, his head tipping back for a moment as he fights to keep himself together. "Look at you," he murmurs, his voice low and reverent,"So fuckin' beautiful. So goddamn perfect." His hands grip her knees then, spreading her wider as he lowers himself between her legs.

His breath is hot against her skin, his mouth trailing hot, open kisses along the inside of her thighs, inching closer and closer to where she wants him most. Her sex glistens for him already, the sheen of slick luring him in.

"Daryl," she whines breathlessly, her fingers tangling in his hair as her hips lift off the couch.

He doesn't answer. Instead, he dives in, his tongue pressing flat against her slick heat, dragging up to circle her clit with slow, deliberate precision. The taste of her hits him like a drug, and he groans, his hands tightening on her thighs as he pulls her closer, needing more. 

"You taste so fuckin' sweet," he mutters against her, his voice muffled but filled with awe.

Her cries spur him on, her thighs trembling against his shoulders as he works her over, his mouth relentless and hungry. He licks and sucks and nips at her, devouring her like she's the only thing keeping him alive, like her pussy is the last source of water in a barren desert. He still didn’t know how to do this right, not really, but he knew what her gasps meant, knew what the shiver in her thighs told him. And God, he just wanted to keep making her feel that way. His tongue falters for a moment, unsure if he’s going too fast or too slow, but then her hips roll against him, and he takes that as a sign to keep going.

"Daryl," she whimpers, her voice trembling as her fingers tug harder at his hair. "Oh, fuck-don't stop. Please, don't stop."

Her pleading only fuels him, his tongue moving faster, his lips sealing around her clit as he slides two fingers inside her. Her body arches off the couch, her moans turning into desperate, breathless cries as he curls his fingers, stroking her exactly where she needs him. Her body responds instinctively, her words no longer coherent as her hips buck against him, riding the wave of her climax as it crashes over her.

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow. His mouth and fingers work her through every shudder, every breathless gasp, coaxing every ounce of pleasure out of her until she’s trembling beneath him, her chest heaving as she collapses back onto the cushions.

But he’s far from done.

She’s still shaking when his pace begins to slow, his lips pressing soft, reverent kisses to her slick heat as if to soothe her overstimulated body. Her breath comes in sharp, uneven bursts, her fingers gripping the cushions beneath her, but before she can catch her breath, his fingers curl again, pressing against that spongy spot inside her.

A sharp cry tears from her throat, her hips jerking involuntarily as the sensation sends a jolt of electricity through her.

“Daryl—” she starts, her voice trembling, but he just hums against her, his tongue dragging over her clit in slow, deliberate circles.

“Want another,” he mutters, his voice muffled against her skin, his words punctuated by the wet, obscene sounds of his mouth and fingers working her over. “Want more. Gotta see you like this again.”

Her head tips back, her body arching as overstimulation teeters dangerously close to overwhelming. “I—Daryl, it’s too much—” she gasps, but the words are lost in another moan as his fingers curl deeper, stroking that spot inside her with an almost maddening precision. If there was anything Daryl learned from their first time together, it was that he needed to know every single nook and crevice of her that made her come undone. Either with his mouth, his fingers, his cock. He was determined to learn her body inside and out. 

“You can take it,” he growls as his lips seal around her clit again. His tongue flicks against her, faster now, relentless, as if her pleasure is the only thing that matters. “You’re so good for me, baby.”

Her body tightens beneath him, her nails clawing at the cushions as her thighs tremble around his head. She’s teetering on the edge again, the line between pleasure and too much blurring as his words and his touch send her spiraling. The second always comes so much faster than the first, it’s like a domino falling inside her lower belly.

She was falling apart because of him. He couldn’t believe it—still didn’t really know what he was doing—but her gasps, her moans, they told him he was doing something right.

“Cum for me,” he mutters, his voice hoarse but commanding. “Wanna feel you again. Wanna hear you,”

Her body responds before her mind can catch up, her hips bucking against his mouth as another wave crashes over her. She cries out, her voice raw and broken, her walls clenching around his fingers as she tumbles over the edge for the second time.

He groans against her, his tongue slowing as he works her through it, coaxing every last shudder and gasp from her trembling frame. When she finally collapses fully against the couch, her body spent and trembling, he presses one last kiss to her inner thigh, his lips curving into a small, satisfied smile.

As he moves to kneel between her legs again, her hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as her legs wrap around his waist, anchoring him to her. She’s still trembling from her release, her body pliant and warm beneath him, but she reaches up to capture his lips in hers, tasting herself on his now swollen, wet lips.

“Please, Daryl,” she says against his lips–now it was her begging him, and God if it didn’t take every last drop of restraint to wait for him to hear what she wanted next. How the hell did she look like that, sound like that, just because of him? He didn’t understand it, didn’t feel like he deserved it, but he was desperate to be worthy of her. He’d give her anything. Anything. 

“What is it, baby? What do you want? Tell me,” he groans against her, his hips rutting into her, the wetness of her center staining his jeans where his bugle meets her clit. “Need you,” she whines, gasping when he drags his hips against her harder, “Please. Fuck me, Daryl.”

That’s all he needs. His hands fumble at his waistband, his urgency making his movements clumsy as he shoves his pants and briefs down just enough to free himself. His cock is already hard, throbbing and aching with need as he grips the base, positioning himself at her entrance.

He pauses, his breath ragged as he meets her gaze again, his forehead pressing against hers. “Tell me if I’m hurtin’ you,” he murmurs, his voice low and shaky.

“You won’t,” she reassures him, her hands sliding down to rest on his arms, her touch grounding him. “I trust you.”

The words send a wave of warmth through him, his chest tightening as he pushes forward, the tip of him sliding into her with an agonizing slowness. He groans, low and guttural, as the heat of her surrounds him, and her gasp mirrors his, her nails digging lightly into his skin. 

This is all he’s thought about for days—taking her on the nearest surface, spreading her open, and burying himself deep inside her. The way she’d feel wrapped around him, her body clenching tight, pulling him in. But no amount of imagination, no desperate strokes of his own hand, could have prepared him for the way the real thing feels.

“God,” he mutters, his voice breaking as he sinks deeper, his hands trembling against her hips. “You’re so—fuck, you’re so tight.”

Her walls flutter around him, pulling a low groan from his throat. He can barely hold himself together, the heat and wetness of her stealing every coherent thought from his mind.

She moans softly, her hips tilting to take him in further, her breath coming in short, uneven bursts. “It’s too—too much, too big—” she breathes, her voice trembling with a mix of pleasure and something he can’t quite place.

His movements falter, his body stiffening as a rush of panic washes over him. He freezes, afraid of hurting her, afraid of pushing too far. His hips still as her words echo in his head, his hands trembling where they grip her hips. “Am I hurtin’ ya?” he asks, his voice tight with worry, his brow furrowing as he looks down at her.

Her hands slide up to cup his face, her thumbs brushing over his scruff. Her breath is shaky, her cheeks flushed, but there’s no fear in her eyes—only heat, only need.

“No,” she breathes, her voice trembling but steady. “It’s not that. I just—” She pauses, her lips parting as her head tilts back slightly. “I’ve never—never had someone so goddamn big.” Her voice breaks, her hands tightening on his arms as her hips shift beneath him. “You stretch me so good, Daryl. It’s just… overwhelming. In the best way.”

Her words send a bolt of heat straight through him, his cock twitching inside her as a low groan escapes his lips. “Jesus,” he mutters, his forehead pressing against hers. “You can’t say shit like that, woman. Gonna make me lose my mind,”

She laughs softly, the sound breathy and full of affection, and leans up to kiss him, her lips warm and teasing. “Then let me take over,” she whispers against his mouth, her fingers sliding down to his chest. “Let me show you how good you make me feel.”

He hesitates for a moment, his hands flexing against her hips. “You sure?” he asks, his voice low and rough, his gaze searching hers.

She nods, her smile widening as she cups his face again. “I’m sure,” she murmurs.

Reluctantly, he pulls back, his arms steadying her as she shifts beneath him. When his cock slips out of her, both of them hiss at the sudden loss of warmth, but she gently pushes at his chest to move up. And he moves with her, settling back against the cushions as she straddles his hips.

The sight of her above him, her body glowing in the soft afternoon light, takes his breath away. Her hands rest on his chest for balance, her legs bracketing his sides as she sinks down slowly, taking him back inside her inch by inch.

“Fuck,” he groans, his hands finding her thighs, his fingers pressing into her soft skin as his head tips back. 

Her moans match his, her body adjusting to the stretch, the fullness of him. “You feel so good,” she whispers, her voice trembling as she begins to move, her hips rolling in slow, deliberate circles. “So good, Daryl.”

His hands slide to her waist under the hem of her shirt, steadying her as she sets the pace, her movements growing bolder with every passing second. The rhythm she creates is intoxicating, her body rising and falling above him, her warmth enveloping him completely.

“Let me see you,” he mutters, his voice low and reverent as his hands slide up her sides, his thumbs brushing over her ribs, his touch deliberate and worshipful. “Let me see these incredible tits, hunny.”

Her smile widens, her lips parting as her hands slide up her body, grazing over where his own rest on her waist. She takes her time, teasing, before finally gripping the hem of her shirt and pulling it over her head. The discarded fabric lands somewhere behind the couch, forgotten, as her bare skin is revealed to him.

He doesn’t wait, doesn’t hesitate. His head leans forward like he’s being pulled by some gravitational force he could never—would never—ignore. His lips find her breast, his mouth latching onto a nipple with a low, guttural groan.

His tongue flicks over the hardened peak before drawing it into his mouth, sucking softly. Hands tightening on her waist, his thumbs brush over the curve of her ribs as he holds her steady while her hips continue to rock over him. 

She gasps, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as her hips grind against his. “Daryl,” she breathes, her voice trembling with pleasure. “God, yes, yes, yes,”

Her words spur him on, his teeth grazing the sensitive bud before his mouth moves to her other breast, lavishing it with the same attention. His tongue swirls, his lips pressing kisses along the soft swell of her skin, as though he’s worshipping every inch of her.

“You’re incredible,” he mutters between kisses, his voice hoarse and thick with awe. “Fuckin’ incredible.”

Her head tips back, her moans spilling from her lips as her hips roll against him, the friction sending sparks of pleasure coursing through them both. “You’re the one making me feel this good,” she whispers, her voice thick and breathy. Her hands slide down to his shoulders, her nails grazing his skin as she pulls him closer. “This is all you, Daryl.”

Her words ignite something primal in him, his hands sliding down to grip her hips, guiding her movements as she rides him. The pace quickens, their bodies moving together in perfect rhythm, their breaths mingling as the tension builds between them.

“You’re all I want,” he mutters, his voice breaking as he looks up at her, his gaze dark and full of need. “All I fuckin’ think about.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you either,” she sighs, kissing him between breaths, “You’re all I ever think about, Daryl,” you shift your hips and panting, add: “Only man I want, that I need.”

And then it happens. The control he’s been clinging to, the restraint he’s forced himself to maintain, snaps like a taut string stretched too far. Something wild and unhinged breaks free inside him, the monster he’s tried to keep buried roaring to the surface.

Before she can even register the shift, his arms are wrapping around her, pulling her down against him so her stomach is flush to his chest, her breasts pressed into his face. She lets out a surprised yelp, her hands scrambling for purchase against his shoulders, but it’s quickly overtaken by a sharp, guttural moan as he buries himself deeper inside her.

“Daryl!” she gasps, her voice trembling as her hands cling to him, the couch, anything she can grab to stay steady.

He holds her tight, his muscles flexing as his arms cage her in, his body taking over completely. His hips snap up into her, relentless and unyielding, each thrust harder and faster than the last. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with her cries and his ragged groans, creating a symphony of raw, primal need.

Her head falls back, her hair cascading over her shoulders as she screams his name, her voice hoarse and broken with pleasure. And if she wasn’t moaning loud enough to disturb the neighborhood before, she sure as shit was now. The sheer force of his movements has her teetering on the edge of oblivion, her body trembling and she takes everything he’s giving, not able to form words or coherent thoughts anymore.

“That’s right, baby.” he growls, his voice raw and unrecognizable, his hands gripping her hips so tightly he knows he’ll leave marks. “Take that fucking cock, you’re so good, so perfect for it. Like your sweet pussy was made for me,”

The words pour out of him without thought, his mouth brushing against her chest, her neck, her collarbone, anywhere he can reach. He’s barely aware of what he’s saying, barely aware of anything except the overwhelming need to take her, to claim her, to lose himself completely in the heat and softness of her. He’s never known anything like this, where the words are even coming from, where this monster in his chest has escaped from.

Her body arches against him, her moans turning into desperate, breathless cries as she clings to him, her nails digging into his scalp, pulling his hair, “Daryl—I’m—fuck, I’m gonna—”

“That’s it,” he growls, his hips driving up into her harder, deeper, his cock swelling as his own release builds. “Wanna feel you. Wanna hear you scream my fuckin’ name.”

And she does. Her body tenses, her thighs trembling as her release slams into her like a tidal wave. She cries out, her voice raw and ragged as her walls clench around him, pulling him deeper, her pleasure washing over her in uncontrollable waves.

The way she tightens around him, the way her body shakes and shudders in his arms, is enough to send him spiraling after her. He groans, his head tipping back as his hips jerk erratically, his cock pulsing as he spills into her, filling her completely.

His chest heaves as he holds her against him, his body trembling from the force of his release. They stay like that for a long moment, tangled together, their breaths mingling as the intensity of what just happened sinks in.

When he finally loosens his grip, his hands slide to her back, stroking her soothingly as her head rests against his shoulder. “You okay?” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, his lips brushing against her ear.

She nods, a breathless laugh escaping her as she lifts her head to meet his gaze. Her cheeks are flushed, her hair sticking to her damp skin, but her smile is soft and curious, a hint of awe in her expression.

“I’m more than okay,” she whispers, her voice trembling with a mix of lingering pleasure and surprise. Her fingers trail lightly over his chest, and her lips curve into a teasing grin. “But… I feel like I unleashed something in you I didn’t know was there.”

His brows furrow slightly, the flush on his cheeks deepening as he looks away, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, well…” he mutters, his voice rough with embarrassment. “Ain’t never felt like this before. Never had—never been like this with anyone.” His gaze flickers back to hers, unsure but steady. “Guess you… bring somethin’ out in me.”

Her eyes soften, her fingers tracing along his jaw as she tilts his face back toward her. “Something incredible,” she says softly, her smile widening. “I like it. A lot.”

His lips twitch into a small, lopsided grin, his hand coming up to cup her face as his thumb brushes over her cheek. “You… you’re somethin’ else,” he mutters, his voice low and full of affection. “Don’t even feel like the same person I was before you.”

Her heart swells at his words, her chest tightening as she leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. When she pulls back, her smile is full of warmth. “Guess I ruined you in the best way, huh?”

He huffs a laugh, his forehead pressing against hers as his arms tighten around her. “Yeah,” he says, his voice soft but sure. “Guess you did.”

“S’okay,” she murmurs, her fingers trailing lightly over his shoulder. “Think you’ve ruined me too.”

The words hit him like a punch to the chest, his breath stuttering as his grip on her tightens. “Yeah?” he asks, his voice rough and low, like he doesn’t quite believe her but wants to more than anything.

“Yeah,” she whispers back, her lips curving into a soft smile as she breathes in, her forehead still against his, “Never thought I could feel like this—this full, this… complete. It’s all you, Daryl. You’ve changed everything.”

For a moment, he can’t speak, his throat too tight, his chest too full. Instead, he presses his lips to hers again, the kiss deep and slow, filled with everything he can’t quite say.

[naomi-nana]

✎ᝰ. jealousy is a disease !

there's nothing wrong with a little bit of jealousy, right? as long as you're honest about it, surely...

featuring : till

cw : fluff, gn!reader, mentions of death/being killed but nothing too graphic, probably ooc till...

a/n : OMGOMGOMG ALNST FIC ON TUMBLR???? i wasn't expecting to find any, but i find quite a lot!! i was so happy so i decided to make one myself and joined all the other writers>:) i've never watched any theory videos, so i dont really know how till acts. but from the limited videos alone, i can atleast know his personality;)

he really wouldn't have cared at all if you got closer to another human, or even an alien—is what he thought, as if he isn't glaring at you talking to your fans. your smile at those aliens lining up to shake your hands doesn't help. why would you even smile at all the aliens anyways? they all look ugly. he knows that how popular you are is not under your control, and that this is all arranged by your owner. but still, he doesn't like it, not even a single bit.

but he is happy that you're getting the recognition you deserve, after being forc—i mean, working hard for it all. but it still upsets him at how happily you talk to all the aliens, the smile you gave them, the look of adoration that you gave them. you noticed that he's been staring at you the whole time, though. but you made it seem as if you didn't, which annoys him. if he could, he would grab you by the wrist and ran away as fast as he can with you following him. but he won't. he doesn't want or like the risk of the both of you being killed because of that.

so, he endured his jealousy for what felt like an hour, and it all finally ended. "i'm sorry, have i kept you waiting?" you finally turned at him, your face glistening with sweat. even with how messy your makeup and hair has gotten after all those handshake, you still look as ethereal as ever. "till?" you tilt your head curiously when he didn't reply.

"uh—huh, what? sorry. was zonin' out." he noticed that he have been looking at your face the whole time and unintentionally ignored your question. "what did you say again?" he asked, looking away from your face this time in embarrassment. you only chuckled softly at him before finally repeating your question. "no, you didn't, it's alright." he answers quickly, as if trying to hide something, making you raise an eyebrow. "really? i really didn't keep you waiting?"

"no, it's fine. let's get inside the car before the driver leaves us here." the driver really won't leave you both here, since it's literally his job to drive the both of you from place to place. it's just his excuse to leave the place faster so he could make you get away from all your fans. "you seem to be eager of leaving this place, is something wrong?" you come closer to him, concern lacing in your gaze. with how close you are to him, it's hard for him to hide his flustered face.

so, he just turned around and walked towards the exit, making you even more confused and concerned for him. he walks really fast too, while you struggle to follow him behind.

"till, are you alright? do you feel sick? uncomfortable? or is it something else?" you asked him once again, and he avoided your gaze again. it keeps happening over and over to the point that if someone else were to watch you both from afar, they'd thought that the both of you are playing a game of tag. it took a lot of convincing from you, but he finally tells you why. not directly though, he doesn't want you to think that he's too clingy.

"i-i got a little... annoyed, when your fans got closer to you, i guess..." he muttered to himself, which made you unable to hear what he says clearly. you tilt your head to look up at him, then cup his cheeks in your hands, earning a soft gasp from him. "w-what are you—"

"are you perhaps... jealous?" you grin at him, his face growing redder as time pass. "i'm—not! let go of my face!" he grips one of your wrist with his hand, but he didn't even make an attempt to move your hands away from his face. "really? your expression says otherwise." you giggle when he glares at you, although his red face betrays the 'scary look' he's giving you.

"i said i'm not, end of the story. let's get in the car or whatever..." he finally swats your hand away, not too harsh though, and he walks away from you. your giggle only grew louder at how flustered he got just from one single interaction with you. "wait for me, till. you can't leave a celebrity like me behind... you don't want any of my fans catching up to me, do you?"

"ugh, stop talking about that!"

naomi-nana. do NOT repost, do not use,(with or without permission), do not reccommend or talk about my works outside of tumblr.

[honeyhotteoks]

yunho's fromm messages this morning.......... (and some extended thoughts on this man and his very obvious dom vibes, we've got a brand here at honeyhotteoks and i need to talk about it again before i die)

the messages in question:

🐶: yes, yes, you're such a greedy one (a little selfish one) 🐶: be mine, you're mine. 🐶: yes, yes, i'm yours.

transl credit to @/jyhcomfort on twt, i know there's a few alternate translations floating around that say "i'm greedy" or "i'm a greedy one" / one of my friends said via context it makes more sense to be "i'm greedy" but for delulu purposes..... either way..... my feelings are the same under the cut

cw: nsfw discussions about dom/sub dynamics and various connected kinks. as always, i am not being so delulu about this that i actually think i know him. this is all fun and speculation and at this point he's just my muse for the romance novel version of him. okay.....

i tweeted the below the other day (video link here) but like seriously he just keeps proving me right and i have thoughts i gotta get off my chest before i combust.

so i've just been thinking about this whole thing since someone on twitter made a little joke about him being a bitchless kpop idol, which like... i know people got upset, but i'm sure that was just a joke, and that's not really what this is about i've been seriously cooking on the duality of this man for the past few days and have things to say.

first of all...... i've talked about this a million times, but when i say this man is a dom what i mean is that he has the potential for all this stuff, i have no idea what he's actually doing in his private life. he could literally be waiting for marriage for all i know, but i do think you can tell in someone's personality who would kind of be good at something 'naturally' if they got into it / went that direction.

something yunho's been doing a lot recently is showing more of himself physically / showing more skin / being a little more suggestive overtly in his content which is something pretty new for him. he's always been hot and has been sexy on stage, but as far as his personal content, this is pretty new for him. this to me is classic like.... he's gained confidence in the past few years, gotten into his mid twenties where you start to get a little more self assured with your own body or expressions of sexuality, etc. BUT the way that he's sharing this content i think is interesting and indicates to me that he knows what kind of reaction this is going to get from his fans, and he enjoys it.

he's been burying sexier pictures within his ig albums as not the first picture, with the first one being a little cute or just regular idol style pics. prime examples below --

in both of these cases, these are the "sexy shot" but he puts them in the middle of the albums. then when fans freak out or ask him about it on live/fromm his responses are usually something along the lines of "ohhh it wasn't too much was it? ah, no ofc i'll keep it just to that" etc. it would not surprise me in the least if he enjoyed the thought that we're all losing our shit when we swipe to these pics / our reactions online after not only give him a bunch of compliments but shows how riled up we are. that is CLASSIC dom behavior.

in a sexual context, this might look something like..... a dom casually touching or implying sex to their submissive over the course of a day but not really acknowledging it / playing off their submissive's reactions as cute/funny or in a meaner context, ignoring it all together. at the end of all that teasing though is the dom in control and verbally messing with their sub while finally, finally delivering the pleasure they were hinting at. this is something i am so positive yunho would excel at with the right partner.

that combined with the way he talks to hotteoks in fromm really gives the impression that he knows they enjoy being teased, and i truly don't think he would act like that if he didn't like it. he's been in the idol game long enough, if he wanted to set different boundaries or speak to his fans differently, he absolutely could. meanwhile he's out here playing straight into the delulu trends with birthday lockets and wedding flowers and boyfriend-y pics all the time on ig. not to mention the zayn song.... like he knows what he's doing.

he often teases hotteoks about being so flustered over him, plays into how 'jealous' he can be, and overall just leans in hard to d/s dynamics in a way that tells me it's quite natural for him. even just how often he says things like 'you're mine' / 'i'm yours' / 'you know you're mine right?' / 'yes you belong to me' etc. in his fromms just reads completely as a dominant establishing and reinforcing those ownership dynamics.

when it comes to other parts of his personality, i've talked about that at length in other posts (eye contact, natural leadership, body language, active listening, etc.) but i've really noticed a shift in him recently and can't get it off my mind.

on top of that, there have been a few moments on stage or with other members lately that really ring dominance. i'm very specifically thinking of the way he interacts with mingi and wooyoung, which i've written about before, but...... he's consistently holding eye contact with them lately, teasing them in ways that are platonic yes, but also just part of that natural part of him that wants to mess with someone who will break. like.... did yunho have to hold wooyoung's jaw while they were kneeling during halazia? probably not, but he did it. and the smile afterwards when wooyoung got a little flustered was clear satisfaction with the reaction he got.

generally i think there's an impression that some people have that because yunho's so "nice" or so goofy/dorky/sweet/thoughtful/bashful etc., that means he doesn't have as much rizz or like wouldn't be into dynamics like this or harder kinks. i have to say..... that to me always reads like inexperience, with men potentially, maybe sex, and/or these dynamics in particular. in my experience, it's often the sweet guys who can switch it up in bed, and i would even say they often make better/safer doms because they are caring/considerate/attentive to their partner's comfort and pleasure, not just their own or if they're being perceived as sexy. it's not a hard rule of course, everyone's different, but i'm just saying, yunho being a nice guy doesn't mean he couldn't or wouldn't enjoy teasing the fuck out of his partner.

all of this is to say........................ if hasn't figured out his dom potential yet, i sincerely hope he does because i think it's such an obvious fit for him.

[crippleprophet]

let me open by saying I Know How This Sounds (fem whose undergraduate chemistry professor recommended ze take turmeric to cure zyr arthritis, etc) so no hard feelings if you keep scrolling, but hopefully folks who know me know i'm speaking honestly about my experiences, even if those don't end up being the same for other people. so!

2 Tbsp of a common kitchen spice is doing as much or more to manage my ME/CFS as any of my meds or self-medicating drugs

@lakeeffectbitch outlines a way of trying this with a control in their reddit post (link); i just went directly to the one they thought might work so i'll put my experiences & the science/theory behind this under a cut for folks who want to avoid potential placebo effect :)

i'll get more specific about this in the "spoilers" but please be aware, especially folks with diabetes or other blood sugar conditions, that this substance may cause a blood sugar drop. it's less likely at this dose but probably keep a sugary snack on hand just in case

if you experience post-exertional malaise & want to try this but don't have spare money to spend on spices feel free to dm me & i'll see if i can help!

my experience:

i took 2 Tbsp ground sumac mixed with warm water on February 11. i tried taking it with a straw first because that's what my colonoscopy prep had said would make that go down easier but because the sumac particles were so big they didn't want to remain suspended & trying to get them in the straw was difficult, which then made it harder to swallow without, yknow, noticing that you're slurping down sediment

what worked better was getting the powder wet, putting a big clump of it on my tongue, then swallowing it with water like a pill

within about half an hour of taking the sumac it was like my fatigue just faded around me where i stood. it dissolved to the background & when i thought "oh i want to do this" or "i should do that" suddenly i found myself just doing it. i had spent the past week at least bedridden except for the bathroom, & though i took the sumac on a better day, i'd been planning to return to bed with a snack after taking it.

instead, i made myself lunch, and i sat on the couch to eat it. all of this was without taking an edible that day; usually i've gotta take at least 25mg delta 8 + 25mg cbd to even consider sitting on the couch. also, it was storming.

from my write-up the day of: "everything felt very sharp & clear & lucid." i washed the dishes from my lunch. all of these activities were about 2 hours, & at that point i emphatically needed a nap. waking up felt like after taking a muscle relaxer & sleeping: my muscles were more relaxed, & my whole body felt like it'd gotten a bit of a break

i've taken sumac at least 8 times since then on at least 5 different days (this time by modifying this sumac tart recipe to include a lot of sumac powder in the crust, which has been much more enjoyable than the Glass O' Sediment lmao) & adjusting for factors like weather, the effect has been comparable every time:

i watched Inception on the couch with my husband, & understood when she explained things to me

i watched leverage on the couch all day when it was below freezing

i worked a bit on fanfics i've barely been able to touch in a year

i "meal prepped" measuring spices, gathering ingredients, & soaking beans to make beans & rice in the instant pot later that day. i literally can't remember the last time i was able to use my instant pot, after thinking about it i think it was when i made palak paneer last summer, but that was a one-off special occasion thing, i've used it maybe 3 other times since developing ME

i wrote this post

the science:

okay a lot of this shit was over my head before i developed ME so i'm gonna be summarizing at my level lol, look to @lakeeffectbitch for a higher-level analysis

but what i do know! (all images from "The malic acid inhibiting inflammation in ankylosing spondylitis by interfering M1 macrophage polarization" by Ji et al., January 2025)

sumac contains high levels of malic acid, which is found in certain fruits (apples, peaches, etc)

the drugs.com page classifies malic acid as an inactive ingredient, so there are no known drug interactions

mice with ankylosing spondylitis had lower levels of peripheral malic acid than control mice

ID: bar graph showing mice with AS had about 0.03 micromoles per milliliter of peripheral malic acid, compared to the control mice level of over 0.2 micromoles per milliliter. the difference is labeled significant via asterisks. end ID

mice with higher malic acid concentrations had lower ESR and CRP (inflammation markers)

ID: two graphs showing lines with a downward slope. the top graph, ESR versus malic acid concentration, is labeled: r=-0.6802, 95% confidence interval =-0.8843 – -0.2578, p=-0.0053. the graph shows ESR, an inflammation marker, decreasing as malic acid concentration increases. the bottom graph, CRP versus malic acid concentration, is labeled: r=-0.6068, 95% confidence interval =-0.8537 – -0.1371, p=-0.0165. the graph shows CRP, an inflammation marker, decreasing as malic acid concentration increases. end ID

mice treated with malic acid had lower levels of TNF-alpha than the mice with untreated ankylosing spondylitis. humira & similar biologics that treat autoimmune diseases are TNF-alpha blockers

ID: a bar graph of relative mRNA expression of TNF-alpha. M0, the control mice, has a relative expression of 1. M1, the mice with ankylosing spondylitis that did not receive treatment, has a relative expression of slightly less than 4.5. M1+MA, the mice with ankylosing spondylitis who received the malic acid treatment, has a relative expression slightly less than 3. this indicates that the mice treated with malic acid had lower expression of TNF-alpha than the untreated mice. asterisks between M0 and M1 and between M1 and M1+MA indicate significance. end ID

the mitochondrial function of M2 macrophages in mice treated with malic acid "was significantly enhanced"

analysis of the mice's spinal tissue blew my fucking socks off. trying not to jump to conclusions & i know journal articles are full of errors but that looks potentially disease-modifying.

ID: a 5x3 presentation of samples of mouse spinal tissue. the control mice, which are healthy, have thick, undamaged, glowing tissue. the mice with ankylosing spondylitis have thin, curved, cracked-looking tissue. the mice treated with celecoxib, a common prescription NSAID for arthritis, appear very similar to the untreated mice. the mice treated with 250mg/kg of malic acid per day have tissue in between the untreated and healthy appearances; the tissue is "glowing" like the healthy tissue but still narrower and curved, although less so than the untreated tissue. the mice treated with 500mg/kg of malic acid per day have tissue which looks even closer to the healthy appearance, with less curvature than the other treatment groups. end ID

since i started drafting this post i've started taking these malic acid supplements from Nature's Life – the full dose made me feel weird including some heartburn so i cut the capsules & take roughly 2/3 – 3/4 of it at a time (i drop the rest into a spare pill jar to make more doses from). it's been similarly effective for me

please be aware that the supplement instructions say to only take it once a day, i haven't had any issues but everybody is different & this avenue is definitely under-researched! (the mice were given 250mg/kg per day which for me would be like 27 grams but i am not a mouse lol)

[arminsumi]

🔞 𝐀𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 | 𝟏𝟖+

𝐓𝐨-𝐁𝐞 𝐄𝐱-𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 | 𝟐

<- 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯.

𝟑.𝟔𝐤 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 / 𝟕 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : fem reader / Gojo Satoru / (Geto Suguru)

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : your ex-boyfriend claims he isn't a playboy anymore, but is he being genuine? Another date with him leaves you a mess, and you end up asking his best friend out for coffee.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : angst, pining, drama, smut (cr**mpies, light degradation, name calling (sl*t and wh*re), c*nnilingus, bl*wjob in the backseat/risky), implied sexual relationship with Suguru

𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐦𝐞 : Heaven and Back | Often | Wine Pon You | New Rules

You walk out of your bedroom gussied up, lips painted in a very specific shade of red.

And Shoko, laid on the couch tiredly, gapes in disbelief at you.

"Oh my god." she groans, "Please don't tell me you're going on another date with that playboy."

You act dumb, nervously touching your neck as you style your hair in the mirror some more.

"What?"

"You're wearing the Gojo Satoru lipstick."

You continue acting, "This isn't the 'Gojo Satoru' lipstick, I love this lipstick! I always wear this shade!"

She looks at you, dumbfounded by your acting, nearly laughing.

"No, that's the Gojo Satoru lipstick. I can distinctly recall his words; "That's my baby's lipstick on me." and how you giggled on his shoulder."

"Shoko, that was five years ago." you say, "It's fine. I promised him only one more date. He needs closure."

"He's had five years of closure." Shoko replies, "Angel, you're too good for him."

"He's changed!" you insist.

"No, he hasn't; I saw that look in his eyes when I saw you two on the couch. He's still a playboy, and he'll prove it to you soon enough." she says.

"I have faith in him." you say.

"How many times have I heard that?" she shakes her head, getting ready to have a smoke. "You know, Gojo Satoru has always gotten what he wants. That's why he's so fascinated by the new you; you're not giving yourself to him like you did back then."

"I have faith in him!" you emphasize. "God, just tell me I look good."

"..."

"Please. I'm nervous. He's high-class, you know. I feel like I'm going on a date with the president of the world."

Shoko sighs and heads towards the balcony to smoke.

"You look too good." she says earnestly. "He was right about that shade of lipstick on you."

Her compliment makes you light up significantly.

You fuss as you wait. Since Shoko asks, you tell her; "He ordered for someone to chauffeur me."

"Oh my god." she groans, "He's really buttering you up."

"But isn't it such a gentleman move!"

"... more like a rich boy flex." she mutters under her breath, stubbing out the end of her cigarette.

"Okay. I've got to go. See you later... um, unless I overnight by him, of course." you giggle dreamily.

"Condoms." Shoko says simply.

"He's got some."

"Bring your own, always."

"But I'm on birth control, and we've already — " you begin.

Shoko cuts you off, "I know, but have you ever heard about the whole "creampies make you fall in love" thing?"

"What?" you look dumbly. "Isn't that a myth?"

"No. Coming inside is affectionate. You're going to feel connected to him and then he'll dip when you become "too serious" for him. Just keep him at bay."

You give her advice consideration, and nod. "Okay, alright. I won't let him do it inside."

*****

While being chauffeured, you rehearse in your head how to greet your ex-boyfriend — but it doesn't help, because as soon as you're actually in his presence again, your mind goes blank and you start nervously touching at your neck and giggling to cope with his charm.

From the moment Satoru takes your hand and leads you into the restaurant, you feel like a VIP. It's such a familiar feeling; in your early twenties, when you and him dated, he showed you what it meant to be really rich.

And he was excited to shower you in lavish treatment, he loved to see you decorated in his diamonds and to see your bright smile on foreign beaches.

The effect he has on you is even noticed by the waiter, who tends to your secluded table on the rooftop. You and Satoru feel like you're in your own bubble.

"I'm serious." he says honestly, looking into your eyes.

"... you break my heart, then disappear for five years, and then come back asking for marriage." you shake your head, "Doesn't that sound insane to you? Can't you understand why I'm rejecting you?"

"I've changed."

You hum skeptically.

"Really." he tilts his head, he flicks his brow giving his expression that sad little look that really sells it for you.

"If we got married, how long would it last?"

"What do you mean? We'd be wed 'till we're dead." he grins.

You shake your head and smile at him, poking at your plate. A long silence passes.

"... let me think about it."

"... okay." his spirits lift. "But don't make me wait too long; I'm impatient." he teases.

"Too bad. I'm gonna take my time." you sass, biting a piece of meat off your fork to make a statement.

He grins at you.

*****

Food all eaten, dessert long gone. The night air feels good. Not like old times, but new times with an old lover. He knows he messed up, right? So why hasn't he apologized yet? Maybe, you theorize to yourself to justify him, maybe he's still thinking up an apology.

He stares at you from across the table, eyes hungry like a starved wolf.

"You look so good tonight." he says for the third time.

You giggle in response, "Stop..."

"I swear that shade of lipstick looks familiar." he teases, leaning over the table.

You can smell his cologne, and it entrances your heart.

"... is it?" you ask softly, pretending like you don't know what he's talking about.

He knows you're pretending, he thinks it's cute.

"You think it would look good on me too?" he asks.

You shrug like a ditzy princess, "I dunno. Wanna find out...?"

He's so quick to call the waiter for the bill, like there's a pressing issue that needs his attention.

But the only pressing issue is his hard-on pressing hot against his thigh.

*****

Giving his cock all your attention in the backseat of the car, Satoru forces his moans down so that his poor chauffeur doesn't hear through the screen divider.

You stifle a slurping sound, sliding off the tip of his cock slowly, and it makes him shudder hard. He closes his eyes, like that helps any, and tries to keep from cumming in your mouth right there.

Gojo knows your lipstick stains are going all over his cock, it drives him crazy.

Before he cums, you pull off and he mutters a small "Just you wait..." under his breath that makes you smile wide.

****

Kissy marks lead up his abs. Of course, he wants to take a photo — to preserve the memory.

"Hand here, baby. Good girl." he instructs, and in his voice right then you can hear how mature he is now, in comparison to the squeakier voice he had when you two first met.

He's not a boy anymore, he's a man. But very far from being your man, which he's trying to change.

"Lay back." he murmurs. "Spread your legs. Wider. Good girl."

Without saying a thing about it, he noses in between your thighs and shows you heaven is real, and it exists on Gojo Satoru's tongue.

"Fuck!" you clamp your thighs around his head, making him hum while sliding his tongue inside.

When you two first dated, he wasn't inexperienced — but he didn't quite know how to eat a woman out.

Five years is a long time to practice, and he definitely did. You can feel his sloped nose nudging against your clit as he kisses and sucks, sometimes nibbling softly with his teeth at your puffy lips.

Making you cum on his tongue is almost too easy for Satoru, he nearly laughs as he pulls away and licks your slick off his lips. He thinks it's a pity that he's at the wrong angle to see your eyes rolling back. But at least he sees how you throw your head back for him, and how you sound for him — like a cat, he loves it.

"Nice and messy for me now, huh?" he hums, connecting his body with yours as he crawls upwards and devours your lips.

"Mhm!" you whine, still unsteady from your orgasm, breathing frantically. "Satoru, I need you in me right now."

"Aw, but I was gonna — "

"Nowww!" you beg.

He sighs, "Can't say no to that face."

You watch intently, licking your lips, as he whips his belt off and takes his cock out. It's red from the tip down to the middle, where that familiar thick vein always catches your attention.

By your request, even though it confuses him, he squeezes his cock into a condom.

"What do you need, baby?" he asks, lowering his cock onto your pussy and rubbing it between your slicked lips.

You squeal as he flicks at your clit, then pinches your folds around his cock, making you realize his size in comparison to little you.

"I need you."

"Need me how?"

"Satoru!" you hiss annoyedly.

"I don't want to have to tease you, baby just say it."

"I want your cock inside me."

"Not nearly slutty enough." he shakes his head, drawing his cock back and forth, rubbing over your soft pussy. "You said to me in the car that you were a total, fucking slut for me, didn't you say that? Or am I imagining things?"

You start babbling, "Yeah! I'm a slut for you, I want it so bad!" you whine, "C'mon fuck me stupid!"

"That's better." he grins.

Just like how he always does, he presses his tip inside you so politely but then pushes it in too deep, making you curl like you're about to cum.

Satoru's not one to go slow for long, he'd rather pound into you hard and fast right away, to bring out that slut in you as quick as he can. Because right now, you're not nearly slutty enough for him, as he said — and he needs to see that side of you.

"Baby, get loud for me, come on." he grunts, shoving himself as deep as he can, reaching the spot that you know isn't the G-spot or your cervix, but something in-between.

"Fuck!" you almost cry, "That's so good, fuck me harder please!"

He grins, cheeky fangs on display, and goes harder until you can hardly handle it. You don't care if it hurts just a little bit, because you want to know that every inch of your ex's cock is inside you. Not just eight, eight and a half — honestly, he doesn't know where you put all of that, but he delights in watching it disappear into your hole.

"Look at you." he purrs, "How deep are you trying to suck me?"

It feels like he's going to split you in two. Sweat pours out of the both of you, bodies getting slippery.

As Satoru continues pumping his cock back and forth, in and out of you, he starts furrowing his brows together in focus — playful edge dulling as it always does when it feels good good.

"That's it, you fucking take it." he grunts, "Good girl, you're a good little slut for me huh?"

"Yeahhh I'm a good little slut for you!"

"Let me take the condom off, baby."

You know you're gonna hear it from Shoko if she knows, but in the moment you're too drunk on sex to care, and even reach back to strip the condom off your ex's cock yourself as he watches with a smirk.

"Good girl. Now flip on your side, like this." he instructs.

He slides back inside slowly, filling you inch by inch with a low groan — like he's falling in love.

And the sounds he makes as his orgasm builds up make you want to cum again, too. Each time he hits that strange spot between your G-spot and cervix, your visions sparks a little.

Hard strokes tip you over, and you lay there letting Satoru degrade you and call you a filthy slut. You'd be his anything as long as it felt this good.

"I'm so close." he warns, trying to savor the buildup.

"Cum inside me." you mewl, "Please."

"Yeahhh I'm gonna — fuck. Take my cum, be a good girl."

The broken moan he lets out as he creampies you is almost obscene. Satoru slows his thrusts as he shoots everything he has into you.

His jaw slacks, and he groans, "... prettiest little slut, aren't you? So filthy and pretty."

"I'm gonna cum againnn..." you whine, reaching down to rub frantically on your sensitive clit.

He watches you through the haze of his post-orgasm, slowly grinding his cock inside to get you there.

"Good girl."

"C-call me a slut again, please."

He laughs naughtily, "Fucking slut. Come on, finish on me. Make that cute face again, 'cute lil' whore."

Satoru always surprises you during sex in some way, this time you're surprised when he caresses your cheek as you cum. You shake and spasm, feeling each shock of your orgasm.

Panting and coming down from your high, Satoru cracks a smile.

"You were so loud." he laughs.

Reality hits you, "Oh my god, I didn't know I liked being called a slut so much!" you cover your face embarrassedly.

He rings out with laughter.

*****

After sex. What happens after sex? He's a gentleman, and that makes you tear up — not because he's a gentleman, but because he never used to be quite like this.

No, he never used to be quite like this. Even kissing you afterwards? Why was it, you wonder, that back then he couldn't love you as deeply as now, when you needed it most?

"What's wrong?" he asks.

You try to stop your crying, but it gets worse.

"Satoru." you say, sniffling, eyes pointed downwards, "I know it's been five years, but I'm still hurt."

He doesn't reply. Just awkwardly wrings his hands and sits at the edge of the bed, soft duvet covering his lap.

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't really help."

"Then what can I do?"

"I don't know." you sniffle, "Go back in time and love me. You know, I needed your love back then more than I do now." you admit to both him and yourself.

Satoru purses his lips, thinking before he speaks — but then he ends up not replying at all.

Instead, he goes to wipe your tears. Something he always did towards the end of your relationship, because you were always crying.

"I should go home."

He jolts a little. "Oh. I thought you were gonna stay the night?" he croaks. Inside, he's dreading sleeping alone again.

"No." you shake your head. "I've got to stop fooling myself. We're not getting back together, you're not more than a playboy, we're not getting married — and sex with you is better than with anyone else, but a relationship can't bank on that, Satoru."

"I'm being genuine. I told you earlier that I was."

"How can I trust you?" you ask.

"Playboys don't propose marriage." he replies.

"But you're just joking about that!"

"I'm not!" he stresses, "The last time you loved me, I was just a boy. I'm a man now and I know what I want." he says roughly.

You both go silent. Then he starts speaking again, voice softer than before.

"I love you more every time I see you."

You don't say anything back. He looks stricken and confused.

"I'm gonna go." you say.

He purses his lips tightly, looking frustrated that he can't get through to you.

"I'll take you home." he says quietly.

*****

Shoko is just digging around in the freezer for therapeutic ice cream when you come into the entry way.

"You look dreadful."

"Thanks."

"Bad date?"

"The worst..."

"Still love him?"

"... yeah."

"Marriage?"

"I'm in love, not stupid." you reply.

Shoko chuckles. "Come on. Let's catch up on that series. I'm not on-call." she cheers for herself. "We can binge the whole thing."

"Shoko, where would I be without you?" you sigh appreciatively, flopping on the couch next to her, mascara smudged off and all.

"Staying the night with a playboy, probably."

"Can't argue that." you sigh, "Shoko, I'm so dumb for him, what do I do?"

"Wait. Strike at the right moment."

"I'm not a cobra."

"Buy a cobra. Let it loose on him."

"Your humor is so dark, Shoko. I love you."

"Love you more."

*****

Meanwhile, Satoru is with Suguru; who is listening to his sulking best friend.

"I'm so dumb for her. What do I do?" he groans, "Shoko's probably poisoning her against me as we speak."

Suguru thinks deeply. "Shoko..."

"I know!" Satoru nearly starts crying again. He's being so dramatic, it's hard to take him seriously. But Satoru almost never cries. So Suguru seriously thinks about solutions to his problems.

"Shoko!" Suguru realizes.

"I knowww!"

"No, Satoru, Shoko!" Suguru emphasizes, like he's just made a breakthrough, "Shoko is the answer to all your problems!"

"Ew. I'd never date Shoko."

"You're so dense. I'm not suggesting that. Shoko's her best friend, and she listens to whatever she says, like you listen to me."

"You have a point... I'm listening."

"See?" Suguru chuckles, "Now, here's what I think you should do..."

*****

"You want me to talk to Suguru?" you shake your head. "How would that help?"

"He's his best friend. If you want to find out if Satoru's no-good, you go to the best friend."

"Suguru would rather die than expose Satoru. They're not like regular best friends, they're soulmate best friends." you say, nervously touching at your neck.

Shoko shakes her head. "Are you scared to talk to Suguru or something? What actually happened between you two back then? You never told me."

You go silent and wide-eyed. Shoko's jaw drops open.

"No way. Holy shit. Oh my god. You and him...?!"

"... it was just once."

"Holy shit! Was this before, after or during you and Satoru together?"

"I'm loyal as a dog! It was after... I was feeling, um, revengeful, and Suguru was feeling lonely one night... so..."

"Suguru actually did that?! Did Satoru find out?"

"We promised to never talk about it again. You know... Suguru was so nice about it. I remember he laid me down and said "Don't worry, just cum on my tongue" or something. Ugh, he was so hot. He fucked the life out of me — I could barely fucking see straight after."

"Too much information!" Shoko plugs her ears.

You look up at the ceiling dreamily. "He's thicker than Satoru."

"My best friend is a slut!" Shoko cries.

"I am!" you cry back dramatically.

The two of you burst out laughing wickedly.

"To sluts!" Shoko toasts with an ice cream spoon.

You toast with her, "To sluts! The sluttier the better!"

"Are you gonna talk to Suguru, then? Or are you scared of your inner slut coming out?" Shoko asks.

"I'll do it. It'll be fine. I'm sure Suguru doesn't look as good in real life as he does in photos..." you reply.

You exchange a look with her. Immediately, the two of you stalk Suguru's social medias and —

"Seriously? Who doesn't have a single social in this day and age?!" You curse, only finding photos of Suguru with Satoru.

"That's just like him."

"Maybe he has a Linkedin."

"You're desperate."

"Yeah!"

"Wait, here's something...?"

You investigate further.

"It's private?!"

Shoko bursts out laughing with ice cream melting on her tongue.

"Comedy!"

"This is seriously annoying. I'm gonna friend him." you say.

Shoko looks at you. You look at Shoko.

"You wouldn't."

"I would."

"You're CRAZY."

"I am!"

"Let me watch, let me watch."

"Okay. I'm doing it."

*****

Satoru is mixing another over-sweetened, non-alcoholic cocktail to be sipped on as if he's drinking his sorrows away.

And Suguru? He's laying on the couch, ghosting social medias that he has no account with, happily enjoying a video of traditional cuisine when suddenly he sees the most outrageous, random, and bizarre notification from his mostly-dead private account.

He makes a suspicious side-eye, thinking it can't be real.

Friend request from @ 𝐘𝐍

@ 𝐘𝐍 wants to send you a message.

@ 𝐘𝐍 hey suguru 😊

"What the fuck." he whispers under his breath, blushing in a panicked kind of way.

Immediately, hot memories of you flood his mind. He sits more upright on the couch, glances nervously to check what Satoru was doing, then looks at your message again.

His heart races.

*****

"This is stupid. He's gonna leave me on read."

"Yeah. I forgot Suguru was notorious for that." Shoko sighs. "Operation: Suguru is a failure, then?"

"Yeah."

You set your phone down and continue binge watching a whole season of a trashy series on Netflix.

Your phone vibrates thirty minutes later. You check it without thinking, then scream so loud it startles Shoko right out of her zen-like Netflix mood.

"NO WAY."

"Is it him? What did he say?"

"He said 'hey'. He's online."

"Well say something!"

You panic, "What do I say?"

"Ask him for coffee! In a non-romantic way!"

"Okay."

wanna go for coffee sometime?

@ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐢𝐞 is this about satoru or us?

it's about satoru

@ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐢𝐞 riiight

i'm serious 😠

@ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐢𝐞 because i wouldn't mind if it's about us

"WHAT." you scream with Shoko.

"REPLY TO HIM."

"I DON'T KNOW HOW."

"GIVE ME YOUR PHONE."

Shoko clacks her nails against the screen viciously, replying to him as you watch her type.

"That doesn't sound like I wrote it."

"Well sorry for being grammatically correct."

"Make it sound sillier."

"There."

Shoko sends it. You watch and wait with bated breath, ignoring the climactic scene on the TV because Suguru Geto was far more attention-grabbing.

"Oh my god." you clap your hand over your mouth. "Is that sexual? Is he being sexual?"

"I have no idea, Suguru's an enigma."

"Do you think Satoru is sitting with him? Are they playing us?"

Shoko shrugs. "I don't know, but I'd read that message if I were you."

You look back to your phone.

@ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐢𝐞 sooo coffee where and when?

"SHOKO WHAT DO I DO."

"I don't know."

"SHOKO."

"I DON'T KNOW. I'M STUNNED."

"ME TOO."

"I bet Satoru is cackling next to Suguru right now."

"I bet not. Listen to how sultry he is! That's three o's in there!"

Shoko thinks. "Yeah, but Suguru is always sultry. I think they're pulling a joke on us."

*****

Satoru is dozing off while his best friend texts you. Suguru's not resisting his smirk; it's plastered on his face.

@ 𝐘𝐍 tomorrow? 2pm sound ok? 🙈

@ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐢𝐞 sounds perfect.

© 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞.

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

could u pls write a fic about a plus sized reader noticing Spencer doesnt look at her alot so one morning she wears lingerie and a see through robe and she teases him until he just takes her on the couch?

ೇ self control ― spencer reid .ᐟ

pairing .ᐟ spencer reid x plus size!reader

summary | listen, it wasn't that you didn't love the domestic life with spencer, but god, you just really missed being touched (and penelope has a solution).

warnings | uhh this is almost 3k of pwp firstly, penelope being the best wingwoman to ever exist, lingerie, teasing, unprotected sex, couch sex, vaginal sex, sub!spencer reid, dom!reader, kind of switch spencer and reader at the end, riding, heavy petting, subspace if you squint, mentions of oral sex (m and f rec), the reader is lowkey a freak (and penelope instigates it), clothed sex, the reader is dressed and spencer isn't, i held myself back from including a mommy kink, but that's the best you're getting from me, a lack of foreplay (be considerate folks), consent kink, praise kink.

wordcount | 2817

⋆ a/n: HEY SO i really let this get away from me in the sense of this was meant to kind of be dom!spencer but i blinked and all of a 2k was written of sub!spencer so yikes!! but i really enjoyed writing this, it's been literally forever since i've written pwp so... here ya go!! i'm trying to be more organized with uploading because i really want to clear out my drafts before starting any new projects.

— links .ᐟ masterlist | ao3

“Pen, have you ever seen those TikToks where it’s like ‘he has a whole woman in his bed yet he’s playing World of Warcraft’ or some shit like that?” You ask the phone that’s tucked under your chin.

You’re in the middle of putting up laundry, but a feeling of unrest bubbled beneath your skin.

Penelope laughs, “And let me guess, that’s how you feel right now?” 

You sigh, looking down at the shirt that refuses to turn inside out. You throw it back in the hamper with a huff before grabbing a pair of – Spencer’s – jeans.

“I just – I’m not with Spencer for just sex, you know that, but it’s been like… forever since I’ve gotten any.” You can’t even listen to yourself talk.

“We’ve been in this like… domestic bliss stage, and while I love waking up to breakfast in bed and giggly showers, I’m horny and every time he does something so normal – something that shouldn’t even be considered sexy – I have to hold myself back from jumping his bones.” 

Penelope lets out a rather unattractive chortle, but she continues. “Listen sister, while I love the Boy Genius as much as the next person, he’s kinda dense. With all those brains, he’s rather hard-headed when it comes to romance.”

“I know, I know, and those are one of the reasons why I love him! The denseness is cute, but I’m starting to think I sabotaged myself.” You look down longingly at the MIT t-shirt. Spencer was away at the office right now, so that means whatever conversation you were having with the colorful woman on the other end was completely inappropriate.

“You know what I think?” She starts. “Oh God.” You sigh fondly. “Oh, hush! Don’t even act like my ideas aren’t good! Anyway… If there’s one thing I’ve learned from being quite the seductress myself, is that at the end of the day a man is a man, and they can be reduced down to their most primal instincts.”

“What are you saying?” You inquire curiously with furrowed eyebrows. “I’m saying that you gotta work with what ya mama gave ya! Men are dumb, they see a tit or a nice ass and they lose all cognitive function. So what I’m saying is to put on some lingerie and act like a little minx! Guys love it when you tease them and act like you don’t know what you’re doing! It’s about the chase, my fellow curvaceous protege.”

“So you’re saying to… seduce him?”  

“That’s exactly what I’m saying – Oh! Good morning sir! Yes, sorry, I’ll call you back when I’ve got the answer to what you need… yes okay bye-bye!” And with that, you’re left listening to the silence. 

You laugh, shaking your head in exasperation before taking a seat on the bed.

Seduce him, huh? The notion almost seems ridiculous, but it really isn’t that far fetched. You’ve had sex with Spencer before, you know how his brain works, what gets him needy and what parts of you turn him on. Maybe it’s not such a bad idea.

You don’t really own any lingerie, because for one, the material that’s supposedly the back of your underwear gets swallowed by your ass, and two, Spencer’s never complained about your granny panties. But hey, it doesn’t hurt to look right?

Okay, seduce Spencer Reid is a go.

Taking one last scrutinizing look in the bathroom mirror, you leave quietly, walking into the kitchen and pouring yourself a glass of coffee. Liquid courage as they say.

The light pink sheer robe hangs off of your ample form, the fuzz on the edge of your sleeves getting in your way and irritating you. God, if this doesn’t work, a woman by the name of Penelope Garcia is going to find herself six feet underground.

Spencer sat on the couch slipping his feet into a pair of mismatched socks – you’ve stopped trying to organize them a while ago – tucking them into his converse. He’s off today, probably having plans with the bookstore and the park before offering to make the both of you dinner. It’s endearing to say the least, but food is not something you're hungry for.

“So, what’s on the agenda for today?” You ask before taking a sip of your coffee. He hasn’t looked up, but you’re facing him now, your scantily clad body exposed by the thin satin of your white bra and underwear. A devil in disguise (you hope).

“Hmm, I was thinking about playing chess in the park for an hour or two before going to the bookstore. A new novel about quantum physics just came out, and even though it’ll probably be about stuff I already know, I’m always willing to look at it from a different perspec…” Spencer finally looked up, his sentence slurring a bit. “...tive.”

“Ah! That sounds exciting! I’ll text you what I want for dinner later if that’s okay? Or would you rather I go shopping with you?”

He blinks, his mouth hanging open intelligently, as though he’s still trying to process exactly what he’s seeing. “Yes. I mean no - I mean… I… what are you wearing?”

You spare a lazy look down, as though you had forgotten you even had the thing on.

“Oh this? It’s just really hot in the apartment today. So make sure you bring some sunscreen and a fan, yeah? Don’t want you getting a sunburn or having a heat stroke.”

“I - I’ve never seen that set before, is it new?” He stammers. You click your tongue as if you genuinely had to date the outfit back, when in reality the tags to the set itself sits pretty in the bathroom trash can. “I have no idea honestly, it looked comfortable though, so I just slipped it on. You don’t mind, right?”

“I… no. I don’t.”

You beam at him, “Perfect. Oh! Let me make you some coffee before you go, I know how hard it is for you to start your day without it.” 

You turn back around, and you could hear Spencer fruitlessly swallow a gasp. The back of your underwear might as well have been a piece of string, because your ass cheeks were basically eating the material. It was uncomfortable, but oh well, beauty is pain.

You smirk in victory, pulling out a medium sized thermos and pouring the rest of the liquid in it.

You didn’t hear him move, let alone walk behind you, but two large hands placed themselves respectively on your hips, the man tucking his face in the side of your neck. You shiver at the hot blow of air that escapes through his nose, and his grip on your skin turns a little tighter.

“What are you doing?” The question is mumbled, but you don’t miss it. “What does it look like? I’m making you coffee, silly.” He huffs. “No. I mean what are you doing to me?”

He presses forward, pushing his half hard cock between your cheeks. It was your turn to gasp, and you couldn’t help but put down the pot of coffee, pushing the now full thermos away to avoid any future hazards. 

You hold on to the edge of the counter, tilting your head further to the side to give the needy man more access. He takes the hint, peppering sweet, heated kisses on the sensitive skin of your throat. You shiver once more, sighing out a smile.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You know lying is useless, especially with the way your voice sounded so breathless. “You know you’re a terrible liar.” It was a playful dig, and his palms had begun to move, pushing on your full stomach to put more of your weight on him.

“Hm, but you don’t know every single thing I have in the closet, now do you?” You remark, yelping when he nipped at your earlobe. “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong and you know it.” You do. “Do I?”

“This is terrible foreplay.” He jokes and you giggle. “I’d say I’m doing a pretty good job, don’t you think?” You push your hips back and add a bit of friction onto his cock. He groans and you feel your pussy pulse.

“You always do a good job.” Spencer murmurs.

You’re turned around so you can face him, and you wish you could take a picture to savor the look on his face. He’s beet red, cheeks and ears flushed a beautiful hue that leaves a twinge of pride pooling in your stomach.

He cups your face, drawing you in for a long awaited kiss. 

You sigh into him, hands twisting at the sleeves of his cardigan to pull him closer. He lets you in exchange of pushing you against the counter until your lower back is digging uncomfortably into the marble.

“Where do you wanna go?” He finally breathes. You stare at him as if you were in a daze before processing his question with a blink. “Couch?” You ask. “Whatever you want.” He says before joining your lips together once more.

He walks the both of you backwards slowly, and he takes advantage of when your mouth parts in a moan as he flicks his tongue against the top of your lip. He tastes like toothpaste and you might be a little crazy to think that it makes him way sexier than it should.

Your eyes flutter open and you push him away with hands on his chest gently.

“Do you trust me?” You gasp.

“Of course.”

“Good.” You say with a smirk.

You make sure he’s close enough to the edge of the couch when you push him on it, quickly clambering onto his lap and settling your hands on his shoulders; his fall naturally to your waist and you grin.

“Hi.” You whisper quietly. “Hey.” He responds back just as hushed. “You can grab my ass, you know.” You tease and his eyes widen just slightly. “I…” You guide his palms to hold the meat of your ass and he grips.

“God.” It tumbles from his lips in a whimper and you fucking melt. 

“Sorry I’ve been such a tease today, Spencie.” You say sweetly with a fake pout. “I just needed you so bad and you’ve been so, so sweet to me, my sweet boy. I didn’t want to ruin it by asking you to fuck me stupid.”

“You wouldn’t have ruined it.” He corrects with a whine. You had begun to grind down on him and he gripped you tightly, helping you rut against him. “No?” You question. He shakes his head quickly, his hair bouncing along with the swings.

“No. ‘Would’ve done anything you asked.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“So, if I asked you to let me suck your dick until I’ve sucked the soul out of you, would you have let me? How about if I asked you to eat my pussy for breakfast, huh? Would you have done it?”

“Yes, yes, God yes! I want to… I wanna do all those things so badly.” He groans, all but pawing at you now. 

“I bet you do,” You coo. “I guess I haven’t been the only one pent up. But that’s okay, because I’ve got you, yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

You smile, leaning in to give him a kiss before traveling downwards to his belt and wrangling it open. You popped open the buttons of his jeans, sliding back so you can tug them down his legs. 

“Up.” You command softly and he obliges. 

You’re faced with his hardened cock bulging from under his black underwear.

“Oh… is this for me?” You know you’re being mean when you drag your fingertips over the spot where precum has begun to pool, only putting slight pressure on it just to hear that sweet sound of his breath hitching.

“Yes – it’s all for you.” Spencer whines and throws his head back against the couch. “All for me? My goodness…” You trail off as you drag his underwear down his thighs. His cock springs up and bobbles against his clothed stomach.

“Can I –” He licks his lips, “Can I take my shirt off?”

“Of course, my love.” You were just about to ask him anyway.

As he rids himself of his top you get up for a split second to take his pants and underwear off fully. As you go to undress yourself, he stops you.

“W— wait… keep it on please.” 

“Oh? You wanna be nasty and pull my panties to the side, huh? Dirty dirty boy.” You tisk, but in reality you feel like you’re about to explode. “Is that okay?” You smile at his question. “More than okay.”

You climb back on top of him, doing exactly what you said and pulling the white satin to the side before gripping his dick, lining it up to your entrance. He holds you steady looking up at you with those big brown puppy dog eyes as you sink down.

The stretch stings because of the lack of foreplay, but you can’t find it within yourself to care as the pain shoots up your lower back and is already fraying at your pleasure filled nerves. 

“So… so good. God.” Spencer chokes. 

Your lips are rolled between your teeth, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. You heave out a breath when he sinks down to the hilt, and he just rubs soothing circles on your hips. The feeling helps to guide you as you loosen up, and when you do, you give him an experimental clench.

He groans of course and you smirk lazily.

“‘Gonna ride you now, ‘kay?” You murmur as you lift your hips up before slamming down. Spencer practically shouts when he re-enters you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” He’s a whimpering, cursing mess. “That feels good, baby?” You ask as you bounce. Spencer nods and fondness twists in your chest.

“You’re so tight. I think ‘m gonna pass out.” He says dramatically. You laugh, grabbing his hands and slipping them under your bra so they can cover your breasts. “Well, don’t pass out until we’ve cum, alright?”

He gives your breasts a reassuring squeeze. “Of course.” He huffs and you giggle again. The giggles die out though when you shift and his tip prods just right.

“Oh shit.” You curse but remain in the same place.

You ride him in abandon, the sound of skin meeting skin radiating out into the early morning air of the apartment. The sound is nasty and wet and it causes your head to swim. The buzz of mind numbing pleasure swims around in your gut, and you can almost grasp it.

“Spence I – I need more, can you…?” You moan out, your head tilting back. “Yeah, yeah, I got you, sweetheart.”

One hand leaves to rub furiously at your clit and your hips cant forward, sending you landing on his naked, sweat slicked chest. Your thighs burn and you rest for a moment, but Spencer doesn’t seem to match the same sentiment, because the other hand holds you by your hip in a grip that’s almost bruising. 

The fat is spilling through his fingers but he uses it as leverage as he now fucks up into you. You squeal, throwing your arms around his neck and tucking his face into yours. You mark him mindlessly, body trembling as you near your orgasm.

You can feel him twitch inside of you when he sets a pace, bringing you up and down in a way that indicates he’s nearing an end of his own.

“Together, okay?” You cry out, “‘Wanna cum together.”

“Okay, honey, okay.” 

He sets his feet on the floor and rubs harder at your sensitive bud, and the arousal that implodes inside of you is so blinding that you white out for a minute. Every one of your senses are overwhelmed, and you can hear him mewling into your ear before warmth paints your womb.

It’s silent in the apartment for a moment before you speak.

“I have to tell you a secret.” You whisper mindlessly, laying your cheek on a bony shoulder. “And what’s that?” He runs his fingers up and down your spine.

“This set is new.”

“I know honey, I saw the charge on my card.”

“What?!” You exclaim, pulling away from his body to search his hazy eyes with your wide ones.

“You forget I can see the bank statements.” Spencer says with a smile. “No, no. I – I didn’t mean to use your card.”

“You didn’t have to… I may have uh… may have slipped one into your wallet when you weren’t looking.” He admits sheepishly. You stare at a moment and then smile incredulously. “Did you… secretly sugar daddy me?”

“Oh God, please don’t call it that.” He says with a groan, leaning forward to bury his face in your chest.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever sugar daddy.” You tease, running your fingers through his sweaty locks.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna

[ozzgin]

Yandere School Q&A

I've gotten some related asks and thought I'd put them in a cleaner format, so I don't spawn another round of screenshots from my inbox.

Ohhh how would yan school react if y/n got hurt somehow?? Also quick question is her parents also platonic yans for them? Thanks!! - Anonymous

It only makes sense that the staff of the school is yandere material, too. The students may rush to help and insist they've got it under control, but the school nurse will be quick to act. It's the chance of a lifetime, having you to himself, and for longer than the usual standard checkup. The curtains are pulled, and the "do not disturb" sign is flipped. Your injuries are not to be taken lightly. You'll need to spend all day under his supervision.

The parents and all relatives are indeed platonic yanderes! I thought it'd be a nice touch since I've never approached the trope before.

YAYAYAYYAYYAYAYAYAYAYAYAA MORE YANDERE SCHOOLLLLLL You’re amazing!!!!! (I had to ask to make sure I used the right your/you’re) also is the darling yandere gonna keep sabotaging y/n? - @femboybasil

The tying up incident was actually an exception to what I originally planned, haha. For most of the competitions, darling yandere will guide (Y/N) and aid them for a flawless win. That's the comedy of it: he's indirectly doing the yandere part while trying to be discreet enough as to not alert the other yanderes. Additionally, (Y/N) helps him with the darling tasks. Though that part is very much expected by everyone from school. The Daring Academy teachers are probably observing the activities, baffled. "Who the hell is that student? What skill...what obliviousness. They should've applied to us."

If you’re comfortable with this concept, (since it’s a school-based series I don’t know if the reader and yanderes are minors are not, if they are then you don’t have to write this.) but obviously the students of the Yandere Academy are going to need to learn how to tie up their darlings once they’ve been captured. Would you mind writing a little blurb about it since Reader is the unofficially assigned darling stand-in for their classes? - Anonymous

This is the ask I used for the tying up idea in Part 3! To answer your worries, all of my stories involve 18+ characters! Just wanted to clear it up for anyone in doubt. The school/academy setup is more of a college/university kind of institution. I do love a good high school setup, but not for self insert romance.

I’d imagine that there’s a drama class at the yandere school to help the students learn how to act and seem innocent. What if they put on a musical or something like Phantom of the Opera (because of course it would be that) and reader got the role of Christine or the equivalent. Imagine all the yanderes fighting for the role of their love interests to get the excuse to kiss them, and other yanderes trying to sabotage them as tactfully as possible to keep the show going, but replace the leads to be alongside reader. Think that may be something cool to add/write about? No pressure of course! - Anonymous

You know the whole thing is going to turn into a ninja survival shitshow. They had hoped to never cast (Y/N) in any role, for everyone's safety. And for the most part, (Y/N) thankfully never showed any interest in the drama club.

The supervising teacher held (Y/N)'s application form with trembling hands. It seems their little club had finally run out of luck.

Worst part: the school can't even rely on the teachers. They're just as desperate to see their cute little (Y/N) perform on stage. "Maybe this job is too overwhelming for one person, sensei..." they'll smugly tell the original supervisor. "We could divide some tasks. Someone else could train (Y/N), for example..."

ok here me out, what if there is like a field trip or sports festival kind of thing where the Yandere and Darling academy meet up. Basically where a Yandere and a darling are made to pair up to go through the numerous activities (maybe ones that test their yandere/darling skills) so reader decides to pair up with clumsy Yandere ( who is in Darling academy) much to the displeasure of Yandere classmate. Maybe like a battle of the the Yanderes? - Anonymous

This was a little trippy to read, because it came right after part 3, haha. Which I feel is basically the same plot. Though it would be interesting to see how it'd play out if the stranger was Reader's best friend instead.

Reader excitedly approaches Clumsy!Yandere and asks him to work together, to the dismay of all other students. They're enraged. You can see it plainly: their hands tremble, their jaws are clenched, their eyes have a psychotic glint. Poor Clumsy!Yandere is in constant shivers, unaware of the death stares. You're cheerfully guiding him around, his hand in yours, happy to see your friend again.

[rassicas]

I've gotten a hold of a very rare issue of Nintendo Dream from October 2017, containing an interview with the Splatoon developers. like seriously, i hadn't seen any documentation of this anywhere. HUGE huge thanks to @squidhominid, who spent Too Much Money to buy a copy and scan it!! Since a lot of it is formatted in blurbs like what's pictured above, I'd been unsure how to organize and share translations...I've decided I will gradually share snippets of it like so and compile it all later. Please be patient. Translation under the cut.

In relation to the characters from Story Mode The Rule-abiding Octarian Army

---Is Octavio a DJ and a general? Inoue: Well, his name is General DJ Octavio (laughs). He commands the Octarian army, so naturally he's a general. [[TN: Octavio's JP name includes "General" rather than just "DJ Octavio" like in english.]] ---Going off of that, there are other ranks, right? Amano: That's right. The Octarians as a species act seriously, so if they didn't have ranks they wouldn't be able to work properly. (laughs) Inoue: Originally, we made Octavio as a character as a pair to Cap'n Cuttlefish on the Inkling's side. Now as for why Octavio is an octopus that holds wasabi sticks... the act of "grating" wasabi made us think of "scratching", and "scratching" made us think of "DJ"...So he came to be both a general and a DJ. [[TN: takowasa, or octopus and wasabi paired together, is a popular izakaya snack. Same goes for atarime, (cuttlefish's JP name) dried squid. It's supposed to be like a snack showdown.]] Nogami: The Octarians are led by music. Octavio makes his own music to control them. Inoue: The music tells them to move and work according to the rules (laughs). ---So, for him as a general, is the music just for controlling the Octarians? Or does he enjoy it? Amano: It is for leadership, with that 'duntz duntz' sort of tempo. So I think for him, he sees the popularity and influence of the Squid Sisters as something that has a military-like controlling power. ---Is Cap'n Cuttlefish unable to turn into squid form, and can Octavio not turn into humanoid form? Amano: Cuttlefish can probably transform and produce some ink, but not like he could in his younger years. It's like when your grandpa says he's gonna do a squat, and he can kind of do it, but not really... it's like that. Inoue: Octavio became unable to take on his humanoid form due to an injury he got long ago. In a Sunken Scroll in S1, you can see a figure who appears to be Octavio before he was injured.

[[TN: This has to be the true origin to the information of Octavio being unable to take on humanoid form! I was troubled by the fact that when this info was brought up by the writers of nintendo dream in that 2018 issue in a way that made it sound like obvious information, they didn't say when or where they heard it...but this is it.]]

[stevesbipanic]

@steddieangstyaugust Day 6: "Who did this?"

Cw: homophobic language used (f word, not used by main characters)

Steve was late.

He was never late which is why Eddie had spent the last twenty minutes pacing around the trailer. Since Spring Break and Eddie's release from the hospital Saturdays had been movie night for the two older boys. A movie night that became date night a couple months ago when Steve smiled so softly at him and Eddie couldn't help but risk it all and kiss him. Steve never was late, but especially not on Saturdays.

Eddie knew Steve had a closing shift, solo because Robin had finally gotten the courage to ask out Vickie. Sometimes closing took longer alone but Steve always would call to let Eddie know. Eddie had already tried ringing the store multiple times but got nothing but voicemail.

Now, twenty minutes later, he couldn't wait any longer. He grabbed his keys and tried to keep his panic under control as he drove to the store, hoping that maybe he'd pass Steve on the way and it would all be a misunderstanding.

His relief at seeing Steve's car parked outside Family Video was short lived. The lights in the store were off, doors shut, no Steve. He parked quickly, jumping out, that's when he saw the real state of Steve's car. The tyres were slashed, headlights and a couple windows smashed and as he rounded the side looking for Steve he saw in bright red spray paint "faggot".

"Shit," Eddie whispered, "Steve!?" he called out desperately. Against all odds he heard a whimper from behind the store. He quickly ran around, his eyes catching on a crumpled figure curled up on the ground. "Steve? Baby, sweetheart, are you ok? Who did this? What hurts, love?" Eddie rambles crouching down towards him, brushing his fingers gently on his face which thankfully looks unharmed, Steve couldn't get another concussion.

"Ankle," Steve whimpers out, Eddie sees that it's red and swollen, he hopes it's just a sprain since it looks ok otherwise. "Stevie, what happened baby?"

"Can we go home first please?" Home had been the trailer for awhile now, Steve rarely went back to Loch Nora these days. "Of course, sweetheart, where are your keys, Wayne and I will come deal with your car later."

Steve whimpered again, "They're on the roof, I fell trying to get them back." Eddie sighed, running a comforting hand down Steve's side, "That's ok, sunshine, we'll deal with that tomorrow too, c'mon I've got you just lean on me." Eddie looped an arm under Steve helping him limp back to the van, Steve pointedly didn't look at his car. The drive home was quiet but thankfully not tense, more tired.

Eddie set Steve up on the couch, a pack of frozen peas on his ankle, he'd get Wayne to look at it when he got home later. He gingerly sits beside him, trying not to jostle Steve's foot too much. Steve immediately leans against his side, the weight of the night seeping out of him.

"I'm sorry."

Steve looked up quickly, "Why are you sorry?"

"You wouldn't have gotten hurt, whichever assholes that did that wouldn't have done it to you if it wasn't for me, Steve."

Steve sighed, "Eds, look at me." Eddie lifted his eyes to meet Steve's hazel ones wondering how much longer he'd get the privilege of being close enough to see the flecks of green in them. "I faced monsters worse than some homophobic assholes to get the honour of loving you, Eddie."

Eddie's breath caught in his throat at Steve's words but he continued, "I don't care what they call or do to me as long as you're always there to come get me, that I always get to come home to you, that's all that matters to me, not the car, not words, just you and me, ok?"

"Ok," Eddie whispered, he thinks he'd start crying if he tried to respond anymore. Steve nodded, satisfied, "Good, I love you, Eds, now can we please watch a movie. We were supposed to finish the trilogy tonight and if I see Dustin on Monday and can't answer his questions he'll pick you as his favourite and that won't do."

Eddie giggled at that, even when faced with danger and hate, Steve could make him smile, "Of course, sunshine." As the text began to scroll on the screen he wrapped an arm around Steve's shoulders, "Love you too, baby, thank you for giving me the honour." Just him and Steve, against the world, upside down or otherwise.

[virescent-v]

Appetizer

Summary: This is a shitty combination of two prompts I've had sitting in my inbox for awhile now. "Take your top off and open another bottle of wine for mommy" from Paget during a Drunk History episode and one where Emily teases reader in public. A/N: Idk how I feel about this one besties. The idea took hold and then this happened. If it's bad, I blame it on the fact that I haven't written/posted anything in months...and also my adhd running rampant during this writing session. But it did feel good to get words on a doc and to send it out to the internet void. Enjoy!

Warnings: It's smut! (Surprise, surprise! lol). If there are any typos, don't tell me Word count: 2.3k

When Emily cornered you in your bedroom before leaving for the restaurant, pressing your back against your vanity, you thought she was just going to kiss you senseless, leave you breathless, a taste of what’s to come later when you got back home. 

What you didn’t expect was for her to be kissing up your neck, whispering all the things she wants to do to you, as her fingers found their way up under your tight, little, skirt. 

With your head tilted back, each choking breath stuttering from your mouth, you tried to speak, to tell Emily you were going to be late to your reservation, but it didn’t seem like she was bothered by that fact. 

“I want to try something tonight, love,” she whispered against the shell of your ear. You weren’t even sure you could speak with how much she had already gotten you worked up, so you simply, albeit shakily, nodded. 

Emily pulled back from you, a wicked smirk plastered on her face. She reached around you to an unremarkable box on your vanity that you had missed earlier. Slowly, she pulled the lid off, each second seemingly passing with each breath you took. 

When the lid finally popped off, Emily glanced up at you, now a little more cautious than she was a few moments ago. Peeking inside, you could see a dark purple bullet vibrator nestled inside a cocoon of velvet. 

Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, Emily hesitated, her eyes on the toy. Running her finger lightly over the smooth, silky-like silicon, she whispered, “I want you to wear this. To dinner. It comes with a remote for me to control. We’ve never talked about doing something like this, so you have every right to say no.” 

Her eyes met yours. In them, you could see her want for this, but more importantly, her want for you to feel comfortable with doing something like this. Emily usually took lead with things like this, but you were always the one actually in charge. 

Leaning in, you kissed her slowly, pouring every ounce of want and love into it. Leaning back, you took a deep breath. “I want to. I trust you, Em. I know you’ll stop if I need or want to and you’d never put me, or us, in any harmful situation.” 

Emily released the breath she seemed to be holding, a smile spreading across her mouth. “You’re right. Now, panties off, angel.” 

*** 

Maybe this had been a bad idea. 

You were barely able to string together sentences to answer the questions that the waiter kept asking you in regards to your food and order. You were pretty sure that your cheeks had been flushed since you entered the building. 

Emily was a master at playing with you -  with playing with the remote that was nestled in her pocket. She’d turn the settings to different vibrational patterns, watching as your breathing would match the pace that the toy set inside you. She paid close attention to the way the faster settings would have you gripping the edge of the table, the way the pulsating settings made you squirm in your seat. A combination of both would have you biting your lip in hopes of stifling the moans that wanted to escape. 

You didn’t know what was hotter; the way you could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter with each quiver of the toy inside you, or the way Emily leaned back in her seat, enjoying the view of you trying to hold yourself together. 

Being so skilled at reading your body language, Emily knew exactly when you were reaching the precipice, ready to topple over the edge right there at the table. 

The problem, however, is that she wouldn’t let you. 

Worse, you couldn't even ask for her to let you cum. Every time you tried, your voice got strangled in your throat, caught between a moan and a curse that you had to swallow so as to not make your situation…obvious to the other patrons at the restaurant. 

Thankfully, when your food finally arrived, Emily took pity on you and turned the vibrator completely off. 

“How are you doing, pretty girl?” 

You almost wanted to roll your eyes. Almost. “You know exactly how I’m doing, Em.” 

Emily chuckled. “I sure do, but I enjoy hearing you say it anyways.” 

You were starting to feel a little…bratty… from the fact that you hadn’t been able to cum yet and the fact that you weren’t even sure when you would be allowed to. 

But two could play this game. 

With an almost bored, casual tone, you picked at your nails as you said, “I’m so wet, I’m not entirely sure it hasn’t gone through my dress yet. I love the feel of the toy inside me, but I wish it was your fingers or your strap instead.” 

You watched as Emily blinked a few times, her mouth agape, not anticipating you responding like that. You knew how much she loved it when you talked dirty, but she didn’t expect you to say it like that, nor in such a public place. 

She cleared her throat as you took slight pleasure in the fact that you had her flustered for once this evening. “Mind your words, princess. I can edge you even after we get home,” she said, her eyebrow raised. 

Part of you wanted to push back, lean into the bratty headspace you could feel yourself drifting into. But you knew Emily and that tone of voice. She wasn’t kidding. One time, she edged you for hours and still didn’t let you cum. Then proceeded to not let you cum for days. You didn’t want a repeat of that experience. 

“Yes, ma’am,” you mock saluted. 

Emily just smiled, amused at your antics, and continued to eat. 

You weren’t sure what to make of it; you expected her to fire back with some other quick-witted, snarky, sexy response. It kind of tilted you off axis, not sure of what happened. 

You decided to ignore it, picking up your fork to continue eating. However, once the food was on your fork and halfway to your mouth, Emily turned the vibrator on to its highest setting. The surprise vibrations sent your fork clunking back onto the table, drawing the gaze of a few other patrons. 

“Emily,” you hissed under your breath, your jaw clenched, as you tried to gesture an apology to the people sitting near you. 

Another smirk graced her pretty face. “Hurry up and finish eating, love. I want to enjoy dessert at home,” she said with a wink. 

*** 

You weren’t sure you were walking straight. Every few steps Emily would change the vibration pattern and it would cause your knees to buckle. If you stopped to regain your balance, or to breathe through the pleasure, Emily would turn the vibrator off completely. Even though they were absolutely ruined, you were thankful for your lace panties. Otherwise, you’re not sure the toy would even still be inside you with how wet you were. 

Reaching the door, you fumbled with your keys, struggling to find the right one, and struggling further to get it in the slot to turn the lock. 

You heard Emily chuckling lowly behind you. 

Finally getting the door open, you rushed inside, throwing your stuff on the small table by the door and kicking your shoes off. 

Turning around as Emily shut the door behind her, you went to pull her towards you, but she put her hand up. 

“I meant it when I said I wanted dessert at home, love,” she said, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the kitchen. 

You wanted to whine. You wanted to scream. You were so pent up you didn’t think you were going to be able to last another minute, let alone however long it took for Emily to eat whatever dessert she had in mind. 

You kept your mouth shut, figuring it was better to play along with her plan than to cause more issues for yourself later. 

Walking to the fridge, Emily pulled out a small cheesecake that you hadn’t known about. She grabbed plates and cutlery, serving you both small slices. Before you could start on yours, Emily’s hand went up again stopping you. “Uh uh, wait a second. Do me a favor and take your shirt off and open up a bottle of wine for mommy,” she smirked, licking her fork of the smooth dessert. 

You gulped, walking over to the wine fridge and pulling out a wine you knew went well with desserts. You pulled the glasses down, pouring a healthy amount into each. Before turning around, you slowly unbuttoned your blouse before sliding it off of your shoulders. You unhooked your bra and let that fall to the floor as well. Grabbing the wine glasses, you turned around, watching as Emily looked you up and down. 

You sauntered up to her, placing the glasses on the table. You waited until she looked up at you from her chair before you slowly unzipped your skirt, letting gravity take it to the ground. You watched as Emily’s hands flexed as if she wanted to reach out to you, but she managed to refrain. She licked her lips before looking back up at you. 

Pushing her legs together, you straddled her lap. As you sat down fully, you sharply inhaled as your laced covered cunt made contact with Emily’s dress pants. The urge to grind down, to feel the friction where you needed it most, overtook you. 

You got a few good rolls of your hips in before Emily’s hands shot out to your body, grabbing harshly at your waist. Even the bruising pressure of her fingers on your skin was turning you on further, a desperate mewl escaping your lips. 

“Such a desperate whore for me, hm? Couldn’t even wait until I finished my cheesecake.” 

You pulled your lip between your teeth, struggling in Emily’s grasp to move your hips. You were tired of playing her game, not even bothering to disagree with her. “I need to cum, please, Em,” you begged, your beautiful eyes trying their hardest to convince her. 

“Fine, if you want to be so needy, you can cum. But I’m not going to touch you.” 

Your eyes blew wide, watching as Emily pulled the remote back out of her pocket immediately pressing buttons to turn on one of the fastest, pulsating modes. 

Your hands shot out to her shoulders, your head falling back as a nearly obscene moan tumbled from your mouth. “Fuck.” Your hips started to move once more, the friction of the lace against your swollen clit hitting just right. 

“Go ahead, baby. Get yourself off on my lap.” Ignoring what she said moments earlier, unable to resist how tantalizing you looked, Emily’s hands started moving around your body, her fingers trailing over your sweat-slicked skin. They grabbed at your hips, forcing you down, making you grind faster before gripping your ass. She trailed them up, caressing the soft skin of your belly, trailing up to your heaving breasts, fondling your stiff peaks. Her hands never stayed in one spot long, as if she couldn’t decide where she wanted to touch you, as if she wished she had more than two hands. 

“Fuck, look at you. Riding me so well.” Emily brought her lips to your neck. “You look so pretty like this, flushed and needy and mine.” 

You couldn’t stop the moans from escaping. Each grind down - and back and forth - of your hips had your pussy clenching harder around the toy. With each movement of your body, you could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, if it was even possible. You could smell your arousal, so strong from hours of Emily teasing you.

The toy felt so good inside of you, each buzz and pulse sent tingles through your body and down your spine, each vibration igniting a fire deep within your belly. 

You could quickly feel yourself getting close, the constant edging doing most of the work for you. It likely wouldn’t be your best orgasm - you meant it when you said you’d rather have her fingers or her cock - but something, at this point, was better than nothing. 

“Come on, baby. Come all over my lap so I can take you upstairs and clean you up with my mouth.” 

The vision of Emily between your legs, thighs wrapped around her face, with her tongue licking at your drenched cunt was enough to send you over the edge, Emily’s name repetitively falling from your lips like a broken prayer. 

As you came down, Emily stroked your hair away from your face, peppering small kisses over any part of you that she could reach. She kept whispering affirmations, things you’d heard a thousand times, but would hear a million more. 

You don’t know what you did to deserve a love as grand as Emily Prentiss, but you weren’t going to question it. 

Pulling back from you, Emily looked at you with all the love in the world. “How does a bath sound?” 

You tilted your head a bit, raising your eyebrow at her. “What happened to you cleaning me up with your tongue?” 

Tapping your hip lightly, signaling for you to get up off of her lap, Emily snickered lightly. “You have until I get upstairs to be naked and on your hands and knees, pretty girl.” 

You kissed her lightly on the cheek, a mischievous grin on your face, before racing up the stairs. 

“Oh! And leave the toy in!” She called after you. 

She heard a faint moan - or was it a groan? - echo down the stairs, an almost evil smirk breaking out across her face. 

Looks like that orgasm was just the appetizer of the evening. 

[neunnnnnnn]

I Shifted!! Storytime

I shifted to my 80s fame reality last night and I was contemplating if I should share it or not because of some "negative" things that happened but I guess that what happens when you don't really have a script for everything.

Anyway I woke up there as normal I didn't do any method and I just went to sleep thinking that I really do miss my Arcane reality and had an intention to go there but guess where I woke up 😃

Yes in my 80s fame reality.

I was kinda of reluctant because of what I had experienced before I shifted back ( The story is on my intro blog) and I was so close to shifting back when my s/o came into the room.

He was like you have to get up because we have a Press conference to attend. And obviously the 1st thing that comes to my mind is the scandal that I was in, and apparently when I shifted out of there it had gotten worse to the point where I was sued and was scheduled to go to court.

I got up showered, you know did the stuff and we were on our way to the press conference and my manager was explaining what was happening and was reading to me what the tabloids were saying about me, my s/o, my FAMILY!! And I'm like hell no, so I tell her to send a word out that I will sue whoever mentions my family in issues that do not even concern them because I don't fw my family. You are going to get sued.

We arrive and my s/o was holding my hand telling me that everything will be okay and that he's here for me ( omfg I miss him😭) and he was giving me kisses to calm me down because I was literally shaking.

I enter the room and the cameras go off. I was so nervous as hell that I thought of shifting back at that moment because I honestly couldn't take the pressure ( I don't like being under pressure)

And then they start asking some weird ass questions like; If I'm associated with the Illuminati or if I've done plastic surgery on my face,If I'm a lesbian ( this was actually funny 😂), if I do cocaine since a picture of me and Naomi campbell at a party was leaked. Nothing was said about the scandal and they were just outright bashing me for my looks or just wanting me to look dumb.

Ofc I was furious as hell and I cursed at them because wth I fucking shifted there they are not gonna stress me out I can do whatever I fucking want.

Buuuuut it looks like I forgot that as much as you are the creator of your reality, your consequences will have actions. And the actions that were taken were absolutely wow like just wow. I felt like Britney spears for a moment and I just told myself that Imma have to shift back for my mental health because everything and anything was being done to me and my team, from stalking, to random calls because my number was leaked, I had to fire my manger because she was exposing personal information on me and my s/o. So if we went to dinner for some reason the paparazzi were there, but turns out it was her that did it!!

Anyway, It was fun while it lasted but I don't think I'll be going back there unless I script a whole new ass script but yeah we'll see.

I shifted there for I would say almost a month so about 2/3 weeks but I'm honestly not sure.

Don't let it discourage you, just script that you have the ability to control the tabloids or something cause I didn't 😭🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

[knight-a3]

Hazbin Masterpost

Heavenbound Masterpost

Vox, the noisy video box

So Vox may not be my favorite character, but he is probably my favorite redesign. I laugh every time I look at him now. He looks like a weird mix of Spongebob, Kraang(TMNT), and Mr. Electric(Sharkboy and Lavagirl). He absolutely hates it.

Notes under the cut

There's too many twinks in this show. So when I was trying to decide which characters I could change, for body diversity, Vox was an obvious one. He needed more bulk so his body could conceivably support the old TV models. Those things could get heavy. The change also had the side effect of making him shorter, which just worked better proportionately.

I liked the idea that Vox could never get rid of his original bulky 50s TV, but also wanted him to be able to upgrade. So I decided his true body is the 50s TV, and he adds an upgraded monitor for a head as technology improves. He's hates that he's stuck as an old fashioned TV, so he hides that under his suit. Since the monitor is just an addition, it can be swapped out easily. It can be damaged and he's technically unharmed. But he can't see through his suit without the monitor, unless he wants to use a security camera and direct himself 3rd person style.

I didn't like that basically everyone has sharp teeth. It reduces the impact for characters like Alastor or Rosie. So I've been having the default be just sharp canines. But with Vox being a TV, there are so many possibilities. I gave Vox "regular" teeth, which helps him look more trustworthy. It fits the corrupt businessman vibe. But the appearance can change with his mood too.

Color TV became available in the 50s, so Vox always had color vision. But I think it'd be funny if, early on, he had a tendency to glitch out by going into black and white vision when he gets worked up. He's mostly grown out of that glitch, but he can't seem to shake the static or TV color bars, and developed new ones as he integrated computer and internet tech into himself as well. Now he gets the Blue Screen of Death, system errors, and city wide power surges.

Messing around with his face is so fun. When he's bored or tired a Voxtech logo will bounce around like the DVD logo, or display a screensaver. His face can get too big for the screen when he's excited, or be small when he's feeling embarrassed. I need to put a troll face on him at some point. It may be an old meme, but man, it feels right.

His left eye turns red when it's hypnotic, to reference those blue and red 3D glasses.

Of the three Vees, he is absolutely the most powerful. Val and Vel are the content creators, but Vox is the platform. The other two, while still powerful in their own right, would never have gotten to the level they're at if it weren't for Vox. He controls the mainstream media.

--TV set--

So we've got some interesting implications with how he functions. He's a TV, but he blue screens like a computer, and he shorts out the power grid. I think it's safe to say he is more than just a TV, he's a multimedia entertainment center. That, and TVs are starting to really blend with computers these days. He's mainstream media.

At some point, I realized that a TV set was a "set" because it wasn't just a single device. A television set was a collection of components, which boils down to a radio hooked up and synchronized to a visual display. I bring this up mostly because I am a sucker for one-sided radiostatic. It's so funny to me. Vox is obsessed.

But I'm going to refrain from too much theorizing about their relationship. Alastor is absolutely not interested in romance. Nor a QPR. He's not even interested in friendship. Alastor is too invested in power dynamics to really consider anyone a friend. Mimzy is probably the closest he has to a friend, and even that has manipulative elements on both sides. But I'm supposed to be talking about Vox!

--Human Vox!--

He is not tall, haha. But his proportions are a bit taller than his demon form. I wanted to go for square glasses, but I didn't see many examples of that in the 50s photos I found. Oh well! My goal was a sleazy business man. He probably had a variety of jobs, but they primarily involved TV. Commercials, PR, interviews, news, game shows, talk shows, screenwriting, etc. Whatever he could do to get more influence. He found himself favoring the business end of things. Making deals and pulling strings. He decided what would go on the air. He's one of those network executive types.

I see lots of people give him heterochromia, but I don't really see a point to that. He hypnotizes people with his left eye, sure, but it's not a different color. It's not disfigured in any way either. Maybe he just had a tendency to wink at people, I dunno.

I think his death involved some sort of severe skull fracture focused around his left eye. Maybe a car accident, maybe he was shot, idk. Maybe seizures were involved. But he was somewhere in his mid 40s to early 50s. I ended up writing 45, but I'm not super committed to that or anything.

For a human name, I see lots of people calling him Vincent and that's sorta grown on me. So I might go with "Vincent Cox".

And because I fell into another research rabbit hole...

--TV evolution--

(below) 50s-60s CRT TV: TV sets were treated as furniture and there could be some very interesting cabinet designs. Color TV was introduced in the 50s, but wasn't quite profitable until the late 60s.

(below) 70s-80s CRT TV: Color TV became more affordable and commonplace.

(below) 90s CRT TV

(below) 2000s CRT to Plasma and LCD TVs: The three display technologies competed, but LCD won out in the end. Plasma and early LCD didn't look substantially different. Plasma was a little bulkier, but was still slimmer than CRT.

2010s and on: LCD improved with LED backlighting. But then OLED removed the need for backlighting entirely, which mixed the benefits of plasma and LCD. (Didn't bother to find a picture example. It's so close to modern at this point)

--Display technology-- (These overviews are very simplified)

CRT(Cathode Ray Tube)--Used through the 1900s to approx 2010. Monochromatic until Color TV developed aroung the 1950s. Worked via vacuum tubes and electron gun that lit up the pixels. They were bulky, heavy, and used a whole lot of power. Widely considered obsolete and no longer made. Video games made while these were in use tend to look better in CRT, since the graphics accounted for the image quality.

Flat screens-

PDP (Plasma Display Panel): Used from early 2000s to approx 2015. Used gas cells that light up pixels when electrically charged. Good image quality and good contrast, but expensive, heavy, and used a lot of power. Considered obsolete and no longer made, despite still having a desirable image quality.

Plasma and LCD competed in the 2000s to early 2010s as CRT popularity waned. LCD eventually won out due to weight and overall cost(including market price and energy efficiency).

LCD (Liquid Crystal Display): Introduced for TV around the same time as Plasma. Works via a liquid crystal layer with a backlight. Slim, decent image quality, energy efficient. Viewing angle matters because image colors are warped at wide angles. Cheaper than plasma. There are two main backlighting types:

--CCFL(Cold Cathode Fluorescent Light): Used fluorescent lighting for the backlight. Image quality was decent, but didn't have good contrast. (the blacks were never truly dark because of the backlight)

--LED(Light Emitting Diode): An LCD that uses LEDs instead of CCFL for the backlighting. Better contrast and efficiency than using CCFL.

OLED(Organic LED): Mixes strengths of plasma and LCD. Self emitting LEDs. No backlight or LCD panel needed, which improves contrast(about as good as plasma was, which is why plasma is basically obsolete now).

--QD-OLED(Quantum Dot- OLED) Adds a layer of Quantum dots to an OLED to improve color gamut. I think. I can't let myself fall too far into this rabbit hole, so I'm not double checking anymore.

((Feb 12, 2025-updated tags)