#but anyway i had such a fun time working on this :>

[starless-nightz]

The look of love

note -> I am NOT ready for act 3, I don't want Arcane to end :[[[

parts -> [part one] | part two

pairing -> Jinx X fem! reader, platonic! Isha X fem! reader

summary -> Jinx always believed that she would end up alone, she always did. That was until you and Isha came into her life and now she finally has something—someone—worth living for.

warnings -> none.

content includes -> just fluff.

Jinx didn't believe in happy endings. Not for her, not for anyone. Sure, people in Piltover might have them—their shining golden mansions and glittering dresses made them seem like they walked out of fairy tales. But here in Zaun? Happy endings were as real as unicorns, and Jinx would sooner blow herself up than believe in that kind of nonsense.

She had convinced herself she didn't care.

That was until you came along. And then later, Isha.

————

The first time she met you Jinx didn't think much about you. You were just another face in the crowd of Zaun, another person struggling to make it through the grime and smog. She’d been trailing through the streets, looking for some scrap or bauble to turn into her next explosive creation.

And there you were, crouched in some abandond alley with your hands tangled in wires, fiddling with some broken-down device. You didn't even look up when she stopped next to you, a hand resting on her hip as she watched you.

"Hey, you planning on blowing that thing up, or is it just me?

You jumped, your head smacking against the device. Groaning, you rubbed at your scalp and turned to glare at her. "What do you want?"

Jinx tilted her head. "Ooh, feisty. I like that." She crouched next to you, her eyes darting over your work. "What's this supposed to be?"

"Nothing you'd care about."

"Try me."

You let out a sigh, but humored her. "It's a transmitter. Or it's supposed to be. Trying to fix it so I can get in touch with someone topside. Supplies down here are running thin."

She knew should've walked away. Jinx never got involved with other people's problems. It was easier this way: to keep to herself and keep the world at arm's length, to keep her heart safe, she couldn't handle loosing anyone else.

But something about you made her want to stay, something about you made her want to get to know you better, to open up her heart to you.

"Supplies, huh? Tell you what," she said, standing and shouldering her gun. "You make that thing work, and I'll make sure nobody messes with you until then."

You blinked at her warily but curiously. "Why?"

Jinx shrugged, a lopsided grin spreading across her face. "Call it a hunch. You seem… fun."

————

That was the start. You didn't trust her that much at first—who would? Jinx was chaos in human form, a whirling dervish of energy and bad decisions that sane people crossed the street to avoid, not to mention a wanted crimial. But she kept her word. For weeks, she stuck around your jury-rigged workshop, chasing off the more common sorts of Zaunite pests.

And against your better judgment, you began to grow accustomed—and even attached—to her.

Jinx was actually good company when she wasn't blowing things up. She had a way of making you laugh, even when the transmitter refused to cooperate. Her stories—wild and half-believed—painted in the picture of a girl who hurt more often than she let on.

One night, with the both of you sitting on the rooftop of a crumbling building, she turned to you, her usual manic grin replaced by something softer.

"Why're you still here, anyway?" she asked. "Zaun's a dump. You could've gone topside ages ago."

You fumbled for words, gazing fixedly out across the glowing neon lights of the skyline. "Zaun's home," you said finally. "It's messy, yeah, but… it's mine. People up there wouldn't understand."

For once, Jinx didn't have a snappy comeback. She just nodded, the understanding in her eyes making your chest tighten.

————

Then came Isha.

Jinx had always been good at finding trouble, and it just so happens that a little girl fell on top of her while running away from bad men.

Jinx protected her, of course, the guys weren't even a match to her so it was incredibly easy. By the time the dust settled, the little girl was staring at her, wide-eyed and breathless.

"Yep, that's me." Jinx said as the two looked at the wanted posters of her, "You ever need to curse a sibling or a family or a society... my card." she said as she started walking away.

The little girl immediately followed her, trying her best to catch uo with her, her little eyes filled with amazement.

Soon Jinx was at your workshop with the little girl trailing behind her. You immediately noticed the two, raising your eyebrow as you glance between Jinx and the girl.

"She yours?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Jinx shrugged. "I dunno. She just kinda started following meu."

You sigh, looking at the little girl then at Jinx. "Well, she's staying. She'll be safer with us."

Jinx didn't argue.

————

Months passed. The three of you became an odd little family, bound together by circumstance and something deeper that none of you could quite name.

You and Jinx spent your days scavenging and fixing whatever you could get your hands on, while Isha stood watch, her quiet presence a constant comfort, sometimes she would even help you two.

For the first time in a long while, Jinx felt something close to peace.

She would never admit to it, not even to herself, but she began to look forward to the moments when you'd smile at her, your laughter filling up the empty spaces in her mind. She loved the way Isha would hold onto her, a silent reminder that she wasn't alone anymore.

And then there was the way you looked at her.

Jinx had seen a lot of things in her life, but she'd never seen anyone look at her the way you did. Like she was more than just a ticking time bomb. Like she was worth something.

It scared her.

But it also made her want to be better. For you.

————

It was one of those nights when the city weighed heavier than usual. You were tinkering with a new device that aimed to channel Zaun's toxic air into something breathable. Jinx sat beside you, mimicking your actions but with one of her bombs instead as Isha layed her head in Jinxs lap sound asleep.

"Do you ever think about leaving?" You asked her, looking up to look at her.

Jinx froze, her fingers mid-twist. "What, like… Zaun?"

You nodded, not looking at her. "Yeah, starting over somewhere else. Somewhere quiet."

For a moment, she didn't know what to say. The idea of leaving Zaun had never crossed her mind. This place was her hell, but it was also her home.

But then she looked at you, at the way the dim light caught the curve of your face, and she wondered if maybe, just maybe, there could be something more.

"I dunno," she said finally, her voice quieter than usual. "Maybe."

You turned to her, your expression soft but searching. "If you ever wanted to… I'd go with you, Isha would too."

Jinx's heart stuttered in her chest. She looked away, trying to mask the way her cheeks flushed. She looked down at Ishas sleeping form, her hands playing with the young girls fluffy hair.

"Yeah, well," she muttered, "don't go making promises you can't keep, alright?"

But the way you smiled at her made her wonder if you meant it.

————

The world didn't change overnight. It never does. But for Jinx, it didn't need to.

She had you. She had Isha.

And for the first time in her life, she thought that might just be enough.

Because when she looked at you, she saw something she never thought she'd have.

Home.

And that was worth living for.

[bugbyte]

This this this. I absolutely hold no ill will toward anyone who got a diagnosis in months. Everyone should have that option. Faster, really.

But it’s been hitting me lately about how many little oddities and weird injuries and other problems that made my life hell growing up were more than likely just undiagnosed EDS/POTS/the other muscular dystrophy situation I don’t want to think about yet.

There’s grief. Being told for decades that you just have weird knees, but being unable to explain why gym class makes you feel like you’re actually dying. I was a skinny little kid and I think doctors and gym teachers wrote it off as me just not wanting to try. I tried and I tried and I tried. I wanted to play a sport like my friends, and because that was apparently the only capital that would get you treated like a real person and serious student by the teachers and administrators. If I had known I couldn’t do it because of a disability, just, fuck. My self esteem would have been a whole lot better.

Doctors saying these kinds of things led me down a path of “well, I just have to work harder.” This turned into an escalator of “eat better” (actually helpful) and “work out more” (coulda been helpful with proper guidance.) So I decided over time to take it to an extreme so hard that no one could deny I wasn’t doing enough exercise: I started training to run marathons. And I did! Multiples of them! It was a unique and delicious hell.

Runner’s high is real, and so I’d spend the first 5 miles staving off agony through mind over matter, snacks, music. Eventually the bone-grinding pain turned to numbness and then the high feeling somewhere between miles 5 to 8, reliably. I could ride that for a while, but when it wore off, it wore off.

Whatever the remaining distance at that point felt like dragging my body through quicksand. Whatever pain I had at the start came back multiplied by ten. But seeing the folks around me, no one was having a great time at the end of the race and I assumed all of this was normal. I would be incapacitated for days afterward, but no one could tell me I hadn’t worked hard enough to get there.

I absolutely cannot do this now. I am sad because despite the pain and injuries, it was a lot of fun. I have no idea if I contributed damage to my body but I try not to think about it too hard because it’s so far in the past.

Anyway, to bring it back around, I guess my point is that not having a frame of reference for why your body seems “wrong” to you, and the people whose job it is to advise you about it just…don’t…can really, really make you spend a lot of time trying desperately to be “normal” and it can be potentially dangerous at worst, or at least a waste of time.

It took my entire life (with a decade in the middle where I gave up for a while) to find the right path and the right people to help me understand myself and my weirdo genetics.

I wonder a lot how my life could have been different if I had known more much sooner. But I try not to think too hard about it, either. Just keep moving forward like a shark, one of the things I’d repeat to myself during races. It still applies.

I’m going to be a bitch for a second, but when I’m conversing with someone newly diagnosed with MCAS/POTS post covid and they complain about “the long wait” to get diagnosed and that “long wait” is 3-4 months my entire brain blue screens.

Like on the one hand, yes those 3-4 months must have been so, so scary and I am so unbelievably glad we’re in a place where doctors know enough to reconize it now. Like truly, I am so sincere I am so happy for them.

But I’m also just like... 30 years, man.

I spent 30 years being told from the age of eight I was manifesting my allergic reactions through anxiety by health care professionals.

Fuck, five years ago when I was starving to death from how severe my MCAS had gotten an allergist told me it was anxiety.

And you got diagnosed in three months.

MONTHS

MONTHS

AND YOU’RE COMPLAINING

I’m not mad at them. I’m not. I’m just sad for myself.

But also, hey, yeah. If you come into an MCAS forum and wonder why a bunch of the old timers get upset when you complain it took months for a doctor to listen to you, this is why.

It's not that you deserved to wait longer. It's that we didn’t either and and sometimes even good changes can unearth a world of hurt.

[felassan]

David Gaider on Alistair, under a cut for length:

"Ah, Alistair. Depending on who you ask, he's the adorable woobie with the biggest heart or the irritating, over-used man-child. Yes, he is indeed all of those things. Good characters have flaws to go with their virtues. Ugly spots. That is literally their humanity. He was a bit of a bear to write, at the outset. James (Ohlen, the first creative director on DAO) had this idea he needed to be a grizzled Warden veteran - older, distrusting. Everyone hated him instantly. I call this the Carth Onasi Problem, and suggested to James that maybe I try something else. My observation says that the characters who are generally liked the most are the supportive ones. Enthusiastic. Funny? Sometimes, sure, but that's *not* required. I need to digress. See, at the time James had this (regrettable) period where he believed everything could be derived from a formula. He even sold this idea to the founders, Ray and Greg. Google 'BioWare formula'. Anyway, how this relates is because James thought the DAO cast needed a Minsc: a comedy character who would become super popular and, ideally, the icon of DA. "Isn't that Alistair?" you ask. "Arguable," I say, "but no." James had me to up a huge list of 'comedic archetypes' and I wrote some possible dialogue for each one. Then he had the team vote. The winning archetype? The Buffoon - like Homer Simpson or Peter Griffin. James was pleased. I was not. "The problem," I said, "is I don't find the Buffoon funny." ����"

""But you're a professional." "Sure, I *can* write him... but comedy isn't science. I need to find him funny. If I write him, the only comedy I'll mine is where he makes fun of himself." James took that on board and then passed the character onto someone else. The result? Oghren. I rest my case. So back to the supportive character: that was my thought for a new Alistair. It was a special case, after all - the DAO PC was thrust into a terrible situation. They needed someone who had their back. A bud. A *likeable* bud. I was watching Buffy at the time, and my thoughts drifted towards Xander. Now, I know Joss Whedon is persona non grata these days, but this was 2006, OK? I was watching Buffy and thought, "man, Xander is such a wasted character" and considered how to fix him. Then I realized this might work for Alistair. Plus, I wanted to see if I could replicate the Whedon vocal patter. That was the new Alistair: a more useful and likeable yet equally dorky version of Xander. We had very strict rules in DA about language: no modern speech styles, colloquialisms, any words that came into use in our world after 1900 got severe side eye... but Alistair? Alistair got a blanket pass. Was it great that the lead writer's leading man got to break the rules? I guess not, but it's my opinion that you can break those kinds of rules - selectively, in small doses. Too much and you break the illusion. And it worked. Alistair was an instant hit. Not just with the team, but with the fans."

"Confession time? Yes, I knew Goldanna wasn't meant to be Alistair's mother. But neither was Fiona, originally. I think fans caught wind of some revisionism at work, and OK it's true. I had a more Arthurian idea for his birth but I stopped liking it... yet not soon enough to go back and make edits. Should I have just left it be, left Goldanna as his mother? Maybe. It was one of those writer things I just couldn't let go of and I probably could have used someone to sit me down and go "Gaider, please. Just stop." I still like Fiona, and where I took it. But I probably shouldn't have gone there. Casting Alistair was SUCH a chore. He required a weird mix of devilish charm, but with enough sincerity and adorkableness it didn't come off as smarmy. Every audition went full smarm... until Steve Valentine up and appeared out of nowhere. In the midst of a batch of audition files, there he was. We brought Steve in "just to try out", and he pulled it off. Even the "frog time" line, which (seriously) nobody else could. And when he got to the romantic lines, Steve's voice turned into pure butter without, again, sliding into "oh, he's slightly creepy". Both Caroline and I were sold. And he was so gloriously easy to write. It's a well I'd probably return to... a bit too often, maybe? Maric, then Anders in Awakening, and then Alistair kept popping up in future games and the comics because, yes, he was pretty much the breakout comedy character of DA. Which still makes me happy. 😁 CORRECTION: Goldanna was someone Alistair thought was his *sister*, and her mother his mother. Look, it was almost twenty years ago, OK? 😅 --- I actually had a whole scene written in DAI where Fiona tells him, but the requirements were so specific for them both to be in Skyhold and it seemed like it'd be relevant only to a small small sub-section of fans (and confusing to everyone else) so it was dropped. Rightfully so, I guess."

[source thread]

User: "The Buffy vibes were strong in DAO and I was very happy with that at the time. What I loved about DAO was the mix of dark themes entwined with bits of levity. That's how I like my angst. Dark, broody with a side of ha-has and y'all delivered in DAO for sure." David Gaider: "That's a me thing. I like going dark - really dark - and then pairing it with light, comedic moments. It provides peaks and valleys in the tone, and prevents either from becoming overwhelming. Hey if it worked for Shakespeare (alas, poor Yorrick), it can work for DA, right? 😉" [source]

[willowed-wisp]

NSFW ALPHABET [ simon ‘ghost’ riley]

Just my opinion based on how Simon comes across in the games. It was quite fun to interpret it. Hope I didn’t do too bad of a job 🤞

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Ghost would be more closed off to a one night stand, so it’s lucky if you even get his name let alone for him to stay after the sex.

As for in a relationship, he cares so deeply that if he’s jackhammered you he’ll find himself gently massaging your sore pussy- you did take him ‘so well’ after all (his words)

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He used to hate his arms, all the scars he had endured but he paid good, well earned money on his sleeve tattoos. And with encouragement from his partner- he likes them.

As for you, your face. He rarely gets to see all of his own, so seeing your face in any sense is a blessing. For intimacy it’s a luxury to see your brows screw up and lips parted. He knows you don’t have the same benefit of seeing his ALL the time.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He likes the idea of claiming you by coming inside but the idea of children in a world like this… it scares him. Even if you’re on birth control… too much of a risk.

Simon loves seeing you on your knees, lips pink and raw after finishing down your throat. And you better be swallowing- he doesn’t like tryna get stains out of the bedsheets.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Wants to fuck you in close quarters to the rest of 141, and use his balaclava as a gag to shut you up.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Simon is said to be in his earlier to mid-30s and doesn’t have as much experience as the others but you’ve never complained about his skill before. He’s a quick learner.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

ADVANCED MISSIONARY; As said before, he loves your face. So something front facing but spicier than missionary- legs on his shoulders… laid flat on the edge of the kitchen table with him stood ploughing into you.

AGAINST THE WALL: Simon loves knowing it’s all him giving you pleasure- you clung to him for dear life. Nails cutting into him and limp from the waist down, he’s not shy when it comes to pain… not that kind anyway.

DOGGY: The only exception to him not facing you is when you’ve been teasing him all day long. He loves the roughness and how much of you he can feel at that angle. Intoxicating.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Simon goes Ghost mode during sex. It’s a scale of kinda serious to don’t talk kind of serious. Depends on how long he’s gone without it. If he’s on leave and it’s on the couch during movie night and you clash teeth- he’s so serious about it but when you start laughing, his eyes go puppy dog and he joins you in hysterics.

He can be very goofy so he has that side when his guard is down.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He likes to keep in tidy down there, not completely shaven but nothing to stop you from giving him sloppy head.

He has light eyelashes but the hair is so short you can barely see the true colour - a blondish brown colour.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Like most things with Simon, he truly depends on what mood you catch him in. He’s a chill guy, he’s the type to get you gifts without making a big deal about it.

He just wants your sole undivided attention, that’s romance in his eyes. Having a connection with you, spending time with you. So he’s kissing up your body, and eating you out like there’s no tomorrow without expecting you to return the favour.

Simon is all about eye contact, kissing and making you feel special in the moment. So I guess you could call him a pinch romantic.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Being away from you is a death sentence, but the mission is work. That doesn’t mean LT doesn’t jack off, to images of you riding him or panting beneath him, when he’s in the shower.

Off duty he has you, he doesn’t need to jack off.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

BONDAGE: Hands behind your back, tied with his belt. Or he doesn’t mind, he knows how to break out of ties anyway.

VOYEURISM: Loves watching you masturbate, revels in it because he knows he’ll have you coming on his cock in the next few minutes.

DOMINANCE: Not in an unhealthy way, he’s a BIG guy (and he uses it to his advantage). Caging you in and hitching you up at his waist, repeating the words, “Who do you belong to?” “Who makes you feel so good?”

And the answer every single time is ‘you, Si.’

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Nowhere public, there’s a reason he wears a mask in public let alone being caught with his dick out.

His favourite may be a wall, especially if Soap is staying in the guest room… because the master bedroom is beside it. Ghost is territorial like that, you’re his.

The bed is too comfortable for him when he’s initially back. Simon will hold your hips and watch you bounce on his dick while his back is on the fluffy carpet. Carpet burns were worth it.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Kissing his tattoos- man this guy gets pent up when you do that. All the way up his arm, through to his chest. Do this and you will find his trousers tented and tight.

Ghost is very susceptible to touch, he spends so much time trying not to get hit by stray bullets or by fists that when he lets his guard down- he really gets turned on by crotch palming or kissing. Makeout sessions quickly become a night long sex fest.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Hates being blindfolded, absolutely despises it. Even when relaxed it’s difficult for Ghost to just be Simon. He likes being able to see you, his PTSD comes in play there.

Also, another no no, is you wearing a skull mask or himself wearing it in the bedroom. When he’s at home, he doesn’t even want to remember what happened in the field. Let alone bring it into the most vulnerable position he’s gonna be in. He may even draw the line at face coverings in general.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

As said before, he couldn’t care less if he receives. Only that he makes you cum at least once.

Don’t mistake that for him not liking blowjobs, he loves it- again, a touch thing but he would rather watching you come undone.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Like a lot of things with Simon, it depends on his mood and it you can handle it at the time.

Simon is a kinda soft dom because he cares about his significant other and doesn’t want to hurt you but if you can take it… you’d better find something to hold onto. Legs and abdominal muscles galore- he is a tyrant if you wish it.

But he doesn’t need to do that ALL the time, he can do soft and gentle just as well. Deep, powerful thrusts… letting you adjust after a couple of rounds.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

If you’ve been teasing him, he will pull you into a restroom and have you drooling and seeing stars.

He prefers to have his time with you, to get you well adjusted for his size by fingering and then eating you out. Dragging out orgasm after orgasm to get you to relax.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He doesn’t normally like fucking in public, but as said before- if you touch him in the right places and tell him how hot you are for him… let’s say he will find a dressing room or bathroom stall (within reason) to stop his hardness.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Have you seen this man? 6’5” and muscles for days… Simon has a LOT of stamina.

The first week he gets home you’re lucky when he’s not inside of you. He can go multiple times a day for an average of two hour sessions. He likes to take his time with you.

Quickies wise about 6 rounds in a row.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Simon’s not a fan of toys. Doesn’t own any and doesn’t plan on buying. He’s sure in his abilities and when you a moaning mess impaled on his cock- he’d say you’re quite satisfied.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Edges you from time to time and make you beg for some release. But that’s only when he’s in one of his sarcastic moods- mostly after he’s hung out with Soap.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not obnoxiously loud, but not quiet. His voices get a bit higher or goes lower when he says your name. Holding your hair while you’re on your knees, choking on his cock. It’s kind of addictive.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Your smell. Purposefully buries his nose in the crux of your shoulder in general. Especially when so close to his release- you’ve been squeezing his size continuously for the past five minutes and the scent of you, not your perfume or shampoo, can toss him off that cliff.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Above average at about 7.5 inches, but thick. No wonder he indulges in extensive foreplay before fucking you. He’s the perfect size, nothing too extreme but hits the correct spots.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He’s touch starved on missions and doesn’t fancy asking the boys for that, so he’s pretty horny. You don’t help dressing all pretty in white lingerie the day he gets back.

On a scale of 0-10, Simon is an 8-10.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Simon finds it difficult to sleep in general, only after a day’s fuck fest is he worn out enough to sleep soundly. Next to his partner.

[milktiicup]

Could you write a fic where we figure out a way to bring Mr Crawling shopping with us? Maybe he could be put in a wheelchair so his height isn't as scary or suspicious to other humans

a day out!

“Junk food,” you explain. “Not good for you.” “Want junk,” he says immediately, reaching for a bag of neon orange cheese puffs. Your resolve crumbles. “Fine. One junk.” You lean down beside his head. He turns to you, a smile of wonder on his face, and you stress, “One.” His giggle rings down the aisle and he places the chips into the basket. 

Leaving Mr. Crawling at home all day left you wondering- does he need fresh air? Does he want fresh air? If you left your old world in the name of romance just to be left inside all day while your partner goes to work and has extra curricular activities at night time- you’d like to think you’d crave being outside, too. 

It gave you the bright idea- why not take Mr. Crawling grocery shopping?

Of course, your roommate-boyfriend-thing couldn’t really walk outside all willy-nilly if he wanted. And yeah, you already knew that he’s not that noticeable to other people- but he’s still noticeable. He needed a makeover, a new wardrobe, and one thing for certain- a wheelchair! 

You felt bad stealing from the hospital, but what could you do? Pay for one? Those things were expensive! You may be a murderer, you may be a monster, but one thing for certain is- you’re not that much of a thief… You paid for his clothes, obviously. A simple oversized black t-shirt and a pair of black sweatpants. You even decided to treat him to a pair of… black socks. 

You were such a good, kind person. 

“Crawlingggg,” you sang, stepping into your apartment. “I have a gift for you!”

He sits there in the hallway, head tilted and a smile that stretches ear to ear. “Gift? You give object?” 

You wave the shopping bags. “I give object! Give you!”

“Give me?” He giggles, and you’re promptly tackled to the floor in a heap of hair and raggy kimono in a hug. 

You don’t know what you were expecting by giving Mr. Crawling a pair of normal human sized pants, but they fit… for the most part. His entire calves were exposed. He was like a fussy baby when you insisted you had to put the socks on his feet, but with a pout, he let you. Mr. Crawling was quick to look at himself in the mirror, and after you changed out of your work clothes, you were ready to go!#

“Ready?” you ask, gripping the handles of the wheelchair with perhaps a little too much enthusiasm. This was, after all, a brilliant idea. Mr. Crawling finally gets to experience the great outdoors. A small trip, sure, but a big leap in the world of integrating your… unique roommate-boyfriend-thing into normal human life.

He glances down at himself, his oversized shirt sagging a little off one shoulder, his sweatpants cinched tight around his too-thin waist. His hair still moves with its own mind, curling around his arms like curious tendrils. Maybe a hair tie would’ve been a good idea. “Look… human?” he asks, poking the fabric of his shirt.

“Close enough,” you say brightly, patting his shoulder. “And trust me, no one will question it. People don’t actually pay attention to other people in public. It’s one of the few perks of modern society.”

He tilts his head, not understanding a word you just said, but he nods anyway. “You push chair. Fast?”

“No,” you say firmly, cutting that idea off before it even starts. You had to be mature, and fight the urges to make him do wheelies down the street. You were an adult. “We’re going normal speed, like normal people, doing normal grocery shopping. Normal.” You give him a pointed look, and he grins wide.

You manoeuvre him out of the apartment and down the hall, the wheelchair gliding smoothly. His fingers twitch as he grips the armrests. “This… fun,” he murmurs, glancing up at you. “You like push?”

“It’s like pushing a very large, very creepy man,” you mutter, though there’s no real malice in your tone. “But yeah, it’s kind of fun.”

The trip down to the street is uneventful. Nobody spares you a second glance, save for one elderly woman who frowns a little at Mr. Crawling’s hair. Damn… Men can’t have long hair these days, apparently. You quickly steer him away before she can get a closer look, and see the fact he quite literally has no eyeballs.

“Outside,” he whispers in awe as you roll him onto the sidewalk. His fingers tap the armrests excitedly, his head swivelling to take in the towering buildings, the cars, the smoggy sky. “Big.”

“Yeah, welcome to the human world,” you say. “It’s not all bad, though. See those pigeons? They’re kind of cute, right?”

He stares at the birds for a long moment, then tilts his head. “Consume?”

“No!” you hiss, your voice a little louder than intended. A couple walking past gives you a strange look, but you wave them off. “We do not eat the pigeons. We buy food from inside the store. That’s the whole point of this trip, remember?”

Mr. Crawling frowns, but his smile returns as fast as it left. “I understand!”

“Good. Great. Let’s go.”

The grocery store is just a few blocks away, and you’re relieved when the automatic doors slide open. The bright fluorescent lights and neatly stacked shelves feel almost comforting in their mundanity. It’s a sense of normalcy that you… kind of, but only kind of have at home. Your roommate-boyfriend-thing is a monster from another realm. 

Mr. Crawling, on the other hand, looks like a kid in a candy store. “Many object…” he murmurs, his head swivelling in every direction. “Human eat this?”

“Yeah,” you say, grabbing a basket. “You’re about to see how humans stock up for the week. Ready?”

He nods, his grin widening. You just hope the poor cashier is ready for whatever this trip is about to become. You let Mr. Crawling hold the shopping basket in his lap, and push him down the first aisle. 

You knew Mr. Crawling wasn’t dumb by any means. He’s smart enough to pick up things from the TV, understands a majority of the stuff you say in your own language, but you’d never imagine that the day would come that you had to explain what broccoli was to him. 

“What this?”

“Little tree. You know tree?”

“Know tree… Little tree… Healthy?”

“Healthy. If you cook it.”

“Cook little tree…” 

You’ve mystified him. 

Your next aisle - the snack aisle - has Mr. Crawling enamoured. “What this?” he asks, picking up colourful chip bag after chip bag. If he had eyes, you knew he would be eyeing up those boxes of cookies like no tomorrow. 

“Junk food,” you explain. “Not good for you.”

“Want junk,” he says immediately, reaching for a bag of neon orange cheese puffs.

Your resolve crumbles. “Fine. One junk.” You lean down beside his head. He turns to you, a smile of wonder on his face, and you stress, “One.” His giggle rings down the aisle and he places the chips into the basket. 

By the time you reach the checkout, the basket is loaded with a mix of essentials and Mr. Crawling’s curious additions- things like canned soup, frozen potato waffles, and a box of pudding cups that he grabbed without even asking. And of course, the box of cookies that you knew he would eye up eventually. 

The cashier barely glances at the two of you, though she does raise an eyebrow at Mr. Crawling’s hair. You pay quickly, and wheel him outside with your bags of groceries in tow.

As you head back home, he turns to you, clutching the bag of cheese puffs in his lap. “Shopping fun,” he declares, beaming. “Human smart.”

“Yeah, well, let’s see if you feel the same after cooking some of this stuff,” you reply, shaking your head with a smile. “Ready for that adventure next?”

He nods, munching a cheese puff as if it’s the greatest thing he’s ever tasted. “Cook tiny tree.”

You laugh. “Okay, Crawling. We can cook the broccoli together.”

[mrsdotkennedy]

♡*:.mr crawling headcanons .:*♡

hi so i’ve never written these before but they seemed fun and i thought i’d give it a shot! gender neutral reader <3

i feel like he’d chase his shadow and (or) be afraid of it. the first time the two of you go grocery shopping in the human world, he’d be unused to the sun but fascinated by it, staring directly at it. then he’d glance around and notice that whenever he moves, his shadow also moves. at first he’d test it out, moving left, then right, watching it move with him. he might paw at it, and then turn in circles, like a puppy chasing its tail. eventually he’d be frustrated with the shadow’s relentless tactics, and slightly afraid that it wouldn’t go away. what scared him even further was the fact that a shadow was following you too! that’s where he draws the line. if it had just been him plagued with the shadows he could let it go, but there’s no way he could let these things hurt you. he’d clutch onto you in warning, trying to indicate the shadow in a fearful tone. you’d be confused until you realize he was warning you of your own shadow, and then you laugh loudly. he pouts, but feels ease at your lightheartedness. you try to explain it to him in broken words: “not hurt, not real, from light” as you point at the sun. he doesn’t fully understand you (still struggling through the language barrier), but if you say it’s okay then it’s okay!

when you take videos of him, at first he doesn’t understand the concept. he’s a little wary, and unsure of how you managed to capture moments of him inside that little gadget, but he pieced together in his mind that it was some sort of magic mirror, and eventually he became obsessed with photography. he loves to take photos and videos of you doing literally anything: washing the dishes, lying around, cooking, trying on new outfits, anything at all. his favorite thing to do is take selfies of the two of you though <3

how he texts you! you had gotten into the keyboards setting and managed to put in his language system (or at least however much you knew of it) into an extra phone you bought for him, but he preferred to try and use your language instead. he texts you constantly while you’re at work/school, but he never touches his phone when you’re home. his texts are always filled with emojis, and loads of hearts. his love of selfies always comes through as he snaps selfies every couple hours, showing him cleaning, organizing, trying to cook a meal, etc. he’s definitely an insanely speedy typer (big ahh hands and long fingers), though it’s definitely awkward at first and he has loads of typos

guys idk what this is tbh i just wish i had unconditional love from this fine fellow anyways yeah ty for reading hehe bye!

p.s. should i have put more details or is vague better?

[fillinforlater]

The Archive of Smite

This page belongs to the writer named Smite. He wrote fics starting in September of 2021 up until April 2024. In these 2,5 years, over 8.000 people followed him to read some of the craziest k-pop girl group smut out there. Almost 150 stories of sex in all kinds of positions, for many reasons, all over the world (and in outerspace), with too many kinks to count.

"When I started, I kinda wanted to become the best. I wanted my favorite writers at the time - Levi, Peach, Sins, and many more - to know that I could write as good as they can. I wanted to go wilder and crazier."

Smite, though ambitious, was also stupid and naive. At roughly the same time he started writing, two other community legends began their careers. IZ and Kaede crushed everything in their sight, especially the former becoming an absolute legend.

"Writing was fun. At times, it was escapism from everyday worries. At other times, it was fulfillment of fantasies I could never reach. Mostly though, it was just horny. BFH that just became words. If you go through my Masterlist, you might see which idols had some random heights or were just... Always on my hot list."

Smite never really stopped writing, not for long stretches that is. It didn't really occur to him that there might be a sudden, drastic reason to stop. He considered doing so anyways. Something about writing porn about irl people without them knowing or wanting - needless to say, it is an odd hobby. Nevertheless, he enjoyed it amd the community it brought with it.

"I fucking love these guys. So many hilarious peoplefrom all over the world. One became like my best friend, a rock during my emotional struggles. Another was my boyfriend for a short time. Man, I screwed up with him kekw. There are too many to mention. I've had long talks with some, others just came by and listened to me mald or something. I love you all, some of you I consider true friends - part of my soul - and I feel connected, even if you are thousands of miles away."

2024 started stressful for Smite. The pressure of Uni started to collapse on him. Even the thought of big kpop concerts wasn't enough to cheer him up. Luckily though, there was this girl. Sweet, kind, caring and in the same position. Soon, he had found something that seemed impossible. She was in love with him and he in love with her. And when everything unraveled.

"I stopped writing. I burried my drafts. I finished only one story and released it way later. I'm sorry I didn't announce it properly, but I just felt that this smut writing career was over. I don't regret it - I gained something beautiful I want to keep for the rest of my life. She is at least as pretty as Minju, so I call that the biggest win imaginable lol."

So no more smuts from Smite?

"99% no"

No more fanfictions/girl group stories in general?

"Eh, 80% no. Still some unfinished angst that I would love y'all to read tho"

Will you ever reach those 150 fics?

"We will see. In this count there are fics with less than 1000 words. I might just sneeze and finish it kekw"

Any fic you regret not writing?

"Not really? Maybe a proper ending for Starship: Horizon? Or yet another Minju fic? Futa stuff? Gaeul angst x female reader? Or how about a fic with 69 different idols at once? Who but me would dare to write something so stupid?"

Do you think you reached your initial goal?

"Do I consider myself the GOAT? No. That title belongs to either Peach, Levi or IZ. But I know that of my now 8.700 followers some consider me their favorite writer. I'm flattered and thank you very much for reading amd enjoying my work."

Now for the most important question: does this post mean you are finally leaving the community behind for good? Is this your last hoorah?

"..."

"Never."

[sanguineterrain]

hii this is my first time requesting sth so i hope its okay. what about spencer dating a reader who is asexual or takes a long time to be comfortable with intimacy but people are always asking if he’s getting any and reader feels like she isn’t enough

if not that’s totally fine thank u anyways

(this isn’t self indulgent wdym)

Thanks for requesting lovely. you are definitely not alone in feeling this way 🩷

fem!reader. you feel insecure after derek makes a harmless joke about how often you and spencer meet for lunch

****

Spencer forgets to eat lunch.

It's just a fact. He doesn't always forget, but he forgets enough for you to meet him for lunch when you can or shoot him a reminder text.

Today, you have a day off, so you decide to visit. Spencer tells you he'll meet you at the entrance so you don't have to go through security and get a visitor's badge. You think it's a little ridiculous that you have to do that every time, but according to Spencer, it doesn't take much time at all for people to become a danger to others and themselves.

Not that I think you would do that! he's always quick to add. You adore him.

He gets off the elevator with Agent Morgan. You watch as they approach and Morgan sees you, then claps Spencer's shoulder.

"Oh, so this is where you disappear to for lunch," he says, wrinkling Spencer's shirt. You can tell Spencer notices right away and is mildly annoyed. He shrugs his friend off.

"What're you talking about?" Spencer asks, pursing his lips.

Agent Morgan grins. "How many lunches out do you need, Reid? Seems like you're always forgetting food. 'S not like you."

Spencer looks at him, brows furrowed. "I need one a day, according to the general medical opinion. And my lunch breaks aren't that long."

You suddenly feel queasy.

"Uh-huh." Agent Morgan just grins that sly grin. "Don't be too long. Have fun, you kids."

You walk out. Agent Morgan goes the opposite direction of where you parked your car. Spencer's warm hand squeezes your arm affectionately.

"Hi," he says. "I actually brought lunch today, I just wanted to eat with you, so I lied and told everyone that I don't have lunch so we can be alone."

"Sweet of you." You voice is thin.

"Are you okay?"

You try to keep walking, but hello! Behavior analyst boyfriend alert. Spencer gently tugs you to stop and face him.

"What's wrong?" he asks, forehead crinkled in concern. "Your voice has a tremor."

"Did you tell Agent Morgan that we have sex during your lunch breaks?" you ask, folding your arms.

"What? No, I don't—no!"

"Because I know I've been making you wait, Spencer, and I know I keep saying I'll be ready at some point, but it's really shitty if you're telling people that I stop by just to give you head in your car or something."

Spencer's mouth opens and closes a couple of times in genuine, horrified shock, like when he'd found you hunched over the toilet in pain months ago during a bad stomach flu, and you realize then that you're way off the mark.

How could you think that? Of course Spencer wouldn't do that to you.

"Spencer, I'm—"

"I would never say or imply that. I don't even—I'm not mad or resentful of the fact that we haven't had sex, okay? I wouldn't care if you never wanted to have sex. I don't date you because I'm hoping to 'hit it and quit it.'"

You both cringe at his choice of words. Spencer sighs. "Okay, never using that phrase again. But it's true. I'm not waiting you out, and I'm definitely not talking about us having or not having sex to anyone at work." He shudders. "My living nightmare."

"I'm sorry. You're right, you wouldn't say that. I know you wouldn't. You wouldn't tell people even if we were having sex."

Spencer shakes his head emphatically. "Of course not."

Of course not.

"Then why did Agent Morgan imply that we were leaving to do it on your lunch break?" you ask unhappily.

"He was implying that we were sneaking off to have sex?" Spencer asks. "Are you sure?"

You frown. "Yeah, Spencer. He was teasing you about taking long lunches and always going out with me because..."

He nods in understanding. "Oh. That's... weird. Okay. I'll tell him not to say that stuff. I'll say that it bothers me."

You rub your arms self-consciously and turn your body away from Spencer. "It's not that weird for him to think, though. I do stop by a lot. And you're a young guy. Other guys your age probably visit their girlfriends during lunch and do that."

Spencer raises his eyebrows. "That seems excessive. And risky. And highly unsanitary. And uncomfortable. And—"

"Okay." You laugh a little. "I get it, Spencer. You're not like other guys."

"Story of my life."

"I guess I'm not really like other girls either," you say. "Having sex on your lunch break is probably more normal than dating for six months and never having sex."

Spencer frowns. "There's no such thing as normal. There's socially accepted behavior and opinion and laws and a bunch of made up crap that a lot of people are too afraid to challenge. I'm about the furthest from normal that you can get."

Your mouth flattens. "You're not bad, though."

"Exactly!" Spencer kisses your cheek, startling you. He doesn't often initiate kisses, preferring to show affection in his own way. You don't mind when he does kiss you though.

"Exactly," he says. "And neither are you. I doubt that how you feel about sex is so unusual. But even if it was, it wouldn't make a difference to me. It's how you feel, and I respect it. If I had a problem with it, we wouldn't be dating."

You glance down the block, at the building entrance. "But people might talk."

"Derek wouldn't," Spencer says firmly. "He jokes, but he would respect this if I told him to."

"It's not him, Spence, it's just..." You shake your head. "I've hit a stumbling block with every guy I've dated because they thought I was a prude, a tease, frigid. One guy said I needed shock therapy."

"I don't think that," he says softly. "I don't think any terrible things about you for feeling this way."

"No? You haven't tried to profile me based on my aversion to intimacy?"

Spencer's face scrunches with sadness. "No. You're my girlfriend, not a suspect. This isn't something I have to diagnose. I love you. I like spending time with you. Please don't think that I don't have the capacity to know what I want in a relationship. You don't have to be suspicious of me. I have nothing to hide about how I feel."

"People might think something's wrong with you for dating me," you say.

Spencer shrugs. "So what? People already think something's wrong with me. Doesn't mean they're right. I currently hold the record for the longest relationship in the BAU, besides Hotch. I'm the winner."

You sigh. Everything you throw at Spencer about how he should run while he can, he has a response for.

You might just give up and keep on letting him love you without any strings attached.

"Have I convinced you?" he asks. "I'm really good at debating."

"No kidding," you say. "I'm surprised you didn't become a lawyer."

"Hotch says there's still time." Spencer smiles. "Wanna go to that Thai place three blocks from here?"

Spencer loves the Thai place. It's one of his safe restaurants. You like it too, mostly because of how much Spencer likes it. And you trust his recommendations. He always checks the health inspection grade before eating somewhere.

"Don't you have lunch?"

"I have a peanut butter sandwich in my desk and I'll probably stay late. It'll keep."

"Okay." You lean in and kiss Spencer. He responds immediately, stroking your cheek with his thumb. The tenderness overwhelms you.

"You're really nice," you whisper.

"You deserve a nice boyfriend," he says. "And Chicken Satay. I'll get you both."

You link your arm with his as you begin to walk.

"Is six months really the record?"

"Oh, you don't know the half of it."

[celestie0]

hi my friends! hope you're all doing well. just wanted to come on here and share a little updates w you guys (if you're still here lol)

i guess it's been like a month n a half since i formally went on hiatus, and it's been nice! i got kinda sick for a little bit lmfaooo which was tough to manage w school, but i'm better now

although i took time away from my blog, i still delved in writing here n there. i haven't written anything for kickoff since tbh i'm in such a slump w it. but i still have big plans for stuff that happens after ch13, so hopefully i can just push through this next chapter and get to a better place. thanks so much to anyone that is still interested in the story, it means a lot to me. i know i'm so slow w updates and the story has been going on for almost a year now, but the continued support is so sweet! even though i didn't work on writing it these past one n a half months, i still really love it and plan to finish it.

i'm not sure if many people remember that i had this sort of "apocalypse" gojo x reader au about an asteroid being set to hit the earth in three days, and reader n gojo are ex lovers n the impending end of the world makes them break no-contact...yeah i finished writing the first chapter for it and i really love it so far! it's like set in new york which is really fun haha i love stories where new york is kind of its own "character" if that makes sense...it will definitely be a limited series w only 4 chapters or so, but i kinda wanna finish all 4 chapters before i start posting it bc i don't want it to be a drawn out series in terms of posting since i think it'd be best enjoyed in frequent succession if that makes sense

as for ihm, i think i wrote the most for ihm during my hiatus. i finished three chapters for it, but they are shorter chapters (around 3-4k words). i kinda realized one of my biggest reasons for burnout w my fics were the reaaaaallly long chapters...like didn't i have a 22k chapter for kickoff or sumn lol. idk i can't remember. but anyways, yeah the mindset behind the longer chapters was bc i liked each chapter to kinda have its own conflict, build up, tension then resolution in a sense. but it was exhausting to write that way tbh lol. so i think moving forward, for ihm, i will have shorter chapters. i just don't wanna think to much about things anymore, and write from my heart, bc i have a lot of things planned for ihm, and among the criticism i've received for my writing choices vs my own vision for the story, i've realized during my hiatus that the only way i can finish ihm, or any of my storeis for that matter, is if i just.........stop giving a fuck about it. lol idk if that sounds strange to say, but like, i don't want to over-edit anything. i don't want to think too much about redundancy. i don't want to flower things up or cut stuff out. i'm at the point where imma just write a first draft, check for grammarly errors, and then post it. i guess the reason i'm sharing this is because idk if this means that people may enjoy my writing less since i will admittedly be spending much less time on it than i did before, but tbh i realized i find the most joy while i'm writing, and not while i'm editing. so i want to spend as little time on the latter as possible, and if that changes the quality of my work, then so be it.

anyways, hmm as for hiatus. i guess i'm off hiatus now? i really enjoyed being off of tumblr tbh this app has a lot of questionable content at times (esp in jjk community) and it also did wonders for my studying bc i wasn't spending time doomscrolling or shit posting anymore lmfaooo. but as for writing in particular, i think i will start to post ihm again exclusively. i can't say anything about kickoff or my other projects, but i feel comfortable to start posting ihm again.

sorry, i know that i have kept my replies and ask box off for a long time. but i will open them again once i start posting chapters because i really miss interacting with you guys.

anywho, these are my updates lol i'm like not sure how many of my readers are still here or which ones have moved on but that's ok, i'm grateful to anyone n everyone. hope to see you all soon again!

[river-fisher]

hehehehe interrogation room date...... <3

[louisferrignojr]

i keep saying i'm not going to pay this show any more attention and I keep coming back with more thoughts and i decided to inflict them on all of y'all so here goes

hot take: the brad/hotshots storyline isn't inherently bad. it was entertaining. it was fun and campy, classic 911. i love it when shows get a bit meta. we stay sillay.

however it all falls completely flat, and here's why:

they butchered the main storylines they had set up at the end of s7 — Hen and Karen vs Ortiz (and Gerrard), the 118 vs Gerrard vs Tommy (don't play, they wrote it out with big block letters), Bobby's suicidal ideation, abrupt resignation and relationship conflict with Athena, not to mention NDE. the only storyline they seem to have spent any time on is Eddie and Chris — thank fucking fuck, some good food for Eddie.

they have disregarded previously established side characters in favour of developing Brad Torrence. where the fuck is Ravi? where's Sue, where's Linda? why is Josh only there as a mouthpiece to deliver a cringeworthy self-congratulatory speech praising Ryan Murphy's previous — and still DEEPLY biphobic — work?

the hotshots storyline of 8x07 and 8x08 should have taken place WAY later in the season: only after spending time giving their existing characters and relationships the focus they so sorely need.

Hen and Karen and their struggles with Mara being with Chimney and Maddie — where was the conflict between Hen and Chimney? blink and you miss it in 8x01. why was everything wrapped up so fucking quickly in 8x04? the pacing of that episode was INSANE. they could have drawn it out until the mid-season finale, and ended it on a positive note of Mara coming home.

Maddie and Chimney have had almost nothing all of 8a — what looked like a conversation about family planning, addressing their past issues, deciding to stick together and make it work this time, it was building up to something so good — and it crumbled before my eyes with the accidental pregnancy reveal. because we're dealing with teenagers who don't know how birth control works, not two grown adults in their 40s with a history of PPD. be so for fucking real.

and then: why bring back a homophobic, racist, sexist character, have him act EXACTLY like his old self — including throwing a subtle slur at his old subordinate who's just come out of the closet — and then reduce him to a cartoonish villain — did they perhaps realise that bringing back Gerrard was a big mistake? that no one wants to see this type of villain anymore? that his return undercut the justice of him getting fired by the LAFD for his bigoted behaviour? much to ponder.

Athena and Bobby nearly died, they lost their house in a fire (hello? ptsd flashbacks? no? okay.), then Athena nearly died AGAIN, but we don't need to linger on any of this. back to work, you two. Bobby, you get your firehouse back. Athena, back to doing bad cop shit, i guess. (they had a nice relationship moment with the house hunting and deciding to build etc in 8x04, and that's about it).

Buck had a consistent storyline between 8x01 - 8x04: struggling being under Gerrard, getting to work with Bobby again, and finally getting his captain back on a permanent basis. then we got 8x05 with Tommy — an episode dedicated on the intimacy and depth of their relationship — which they then completely fucked it up in 8x06. yes, the "past connection" reveal was a terribly done messy retcon of the entirety of s1 if you ask me, and a disservice to all three characters: Buck, Tommy, and Abby. the backlash from the GA following the breakup speaks for itself. but they then went to make a big joke of Buck coping with the breakup in 8x07 and 8x08. because we can't be serious about anything, ever. and again — I get it. it's the weewoo show. but don't tell me they haven't previously done well thought-out, touching storytelling. anyway, this got a little derailed because i'm still so fucking salty — the bottom line is, however they butchered Buck's storyline, at least he's had something meaningful.

the only other main that has had a meaningful storyline in 8a is Eddie. they've shown him struggling with being away from Christopher in almost every episode. i can't say i'm a big fan of the way 8x06 went for him (literally. enough with the movie references. tim minear have a fucking original thought for once). but I'm loving where his storyline is headed. that was a good 'cliffhanger' if you will. go back to your roots baby! go reconcile with your son — own up to your mistakes! talk to him about his mother! go to father-son therapy together! -> so much wishful thinking, y'all. we'd be lucky to get 1/10th of this on the show, but whatever.

tldr: no one gives a flying fuck about hotshots or brad because while we love the silly weewoo show, we need something to chew on before you toss us a half-baked dessert. to quote lou ferrigno jr, i am not satisfied.

[lucy-mclean]

hi sole! your sharpening is always so soft and pretty, i was wondering if you would be open to share it? hope you are having a wonderful november so far <3

Hi, Anon! Thank you so much <3 Yeah, sure, tutorial under the cut:

What you'll need:

Photoshop (I use Photoshop 2023)

Basic knowledge on how to make gifs

Camera Raw filter installed

Okay so, first of all, I use two different methods depending on the size of the gif. Let's start with the one I use for most of my gifsets which are big gifs (examples: x x x x.)

METHOD #1: Smart Sharpen + Camera Raw

I started using the Camera Raw filter last year and let me tell you, I'm obsessed! It completely changes the game of sharpening. I use this method for all gifs with a 540px width.

We're going to work on timeline so get your gif ready and convert it for smart filters. I'm using this scene from my last set as a base:

Here's the gif after I color it (I usually sharpen my gifs before I color them but for the sake of the tutorial I'm showing you this so you guys can see the difference):

(1) Smart Sharpen Layer: Let's start by adding a Smart Sharpen layer (Filter > Sharpen > Smart Sharpen) with these settings:

Disclaimer: I didn't come up with these settings myself I got them from these sharpening actions forever ago so I don't know which one it is :/. I also wasn't able to find that person's new blog (if they even have one since they've been inactive since 2021) so if anyone knows please let me know and I'll give them proper credit!

Now we're going to go to the 'Layers' panel and click on this little thingy:

This window will pop up and we are going to change the Opacity to 50%.

(2) Camera Raw Filter: Here's where the fun begins. Go to Filter and click on Camera Raw Filter (you'll need to have the plugin installed for it to show up.) I don't know how the Camera Raw window will look like the first time you open it but good thing you only need to change a couple of things!

If it isn't opened yet click on 'Effects' and we're going to change the Texture and Clarity:

Depending on the scene/show/film I'm giffing, or if I want a stronger or softer sharpening, I'll use two different settings, but 99% of the time they are these:

First setting: Texture (+20) Clarity (+10)

Second setting: Texture (+40) Clarity (+20)

As you can see the difference isn't huge but the first setting gives a "softer" look. As I said I'll use one or the other depending on how I see the scene (it's almost always about the vibes yk.)

Feel free to experiment with these two and see what works best for you (although I wouldn't go higher than 40 on texture because the sharpening will look too fake imo.)

Also this filter is soooo good at making low quality videos look 1080p! Every time I've had to use 720p videos the Camera Raw filter has saved me 🫡

METHOD #2: Smart Sharpen

I use this method for smaller gifs. For example, 8 gifs of 268px x 180px sets (like these) or small-ish gifs in complex sets (like the second gifs in this set.)

This process is much simpler since it's the one I explained before but without adding the Camera Raw filter. That's it that's the method. Just a Smart Sharpen layer with the Opacity turned down to 50%.

As I said this method looks best on smaller gifs but to be honest it looks good on big gifs too? Depends on what you like most!

Anyway I hope this was easy to follow and if anyone has any questions please feel free to dm me or send an ask! ♡

[azaharinflames]

Will you share your theory on what you think is happening behind the scenes of 911?

Hi, Nonnie!

Sure! As long as everyone is aware this is purely speculation, and nothing I say should be taken as proof of anything, I have no problem.

I've gone over a few things in my head, to be honest. I thought that JLH having filming conflicts could've been a major factor, and I still don't exactly disagree with that initial idea, but overall I think it was one of the things that threw TM for a loop.

Now, I've seen a lot of people theorize that perhaps Angela is leaving and that is what is causing so much chaos in BTS, but I am on the fence about this. I do think she might've asked to not have such a big role moving forward, especially if they get a season 9 (which I am also on the fence about ngl), like perhaps retiring, or just having a more laidback position training new recruits. The seeds are planted for that, not so much for her fully leaving. And it would give Angela more free time to dedicate to other projects (which, yes please. I need her in new projects ASAP).

So... (and please don't kill me for this, it's just a theory).

I think it all comes back to Ryan. And that he perhaps is leaving, or actively wants to leave. I will try to explain myself as concise as possible:

A couple of months ago there was already speculation about this. In all of his individual interviews (which were a lot, to be honest), Ryan made a point of talking about his work beyond 911 and talking about what he would like to do after 911.

On top of the individual promo, there was an uncharacteristically high amount of BTS dedicated to him and the godforsaken mustache. To the point where they threw a mustache party. And in the pics of that party, the vibes were that it was a party for Ryan, not in general.

Small thing, but Josh randomly dressing up as Eddie for Halloween. Perhaps unrelated, but I wanted to add it.

The 911 account reposting and celebrating Ryan's 100th ep, when 1. it wasn't his 100th (if we count the eps he was actually in) and 2. it was also JLH's, and yet they didn't say a thing about it. Ryan reposted that as well and the message he reposted it with was more nostalgic than anything else. Very much giving 'it was an honor to work with you, what a journey'.

I could be wrong, but I do think his contract ends this season. So, that just adds to it.

The timeline of the move to Texas. By the reactions alone I was fully expecting Eddie to leave for Texas at the end of 808, and then to be back with Chris (in a lazy way of solving their conflict off-screen) by 809-810. But the way he's currently thinking about it makes it very sus for me. As in, it can be a thing for the end of the season, and an actual goodbye for Eddie.

Of course, nothing of this has to actually happen, and it's quite possible it just exists in my brain. But this makes sense in my funny brain because then it explains why BT had to break up so soon... because they wanted Buck to feel completely isolated.

We know 809-10 will deal with Maddie being kidnapped. That alone will make Buck spiral. But if on top of that his best friend is also leaving... well, being alone just adds to the isolation and the angst. Because if Tommy was still around he'd be able to lean on him, and have him help him through this. But it seems like the writers wanted Buck fully alone for this, because sure, seeing a character never learning and being completely isolated is so much fun.

If this ends with BT getting back together, I honestly don't know. It wouldn't surprise me if Tim doesn't know. But, all in all, I wouldn't be surprised if RG deciding he's done is the thing that kinda created the domino effect.

(Also: I do not believe Oliver was telling Tim to fire Lou and end BT. Sorry. I just don't really see it. Nor do I think there were actual conflicts between actors BTS, as much as everything they're doing right now does feel a bit weird)

Anyway, thanks for letting me rant, Nonnie! My inbox is always open for ranting, venting, or discussing

Take care <3

[cryptic--writing]

Hiya 👋🏻

It’s not really a kinktober request, but maybe you’ll consider doing it? No pressure though))

Ajaf era James, where he was drinking a lot. He understands that that affects him and turns him into a monster. He’s afraid he’s going to hurt reader, but he can’t break up with her for her safety, he loves her too much. So he comes up with stupid plan of making her break up with him because of his behavior? So he starts to undermine her efforts, e.g. the meals she cooks “could have been better”; makes fun of her simple 9-5 job , saying that’s she lucky she can have a relaxed job cause he’s earning most of the money and covering the bills. Although she’s hurt, she is staying as she loves him and thinks it’s the alcohol talking. James, realizing his plan doesn’t work, makes the final move: after they have sex one evening, he tells her that groupies do a much better job. That’s too much for her to take so she leaves him.

Unfortunately, after break up he feels even worse. Lars is worried so he interrogates him, and drunken James confesses. So Lars finds reader and locks her in the studio with James for them to reconcile (can we have smut here)?

Few weeks later when they start recording black album, James plays her a song (which will become nothing else matters), saying that it’s his way of telling everyone how much she means to him?

I’m sorry I can’t write short asks 🥲🥲🥹🥹

You are a great writer so I really hope this will become a story 🙏🏻

hihi!

and omg its here. took me 9 days to write it lmao but yeah

i cant explain how much I loved this idea pls marry me annon

also ~~~ means POV change (yes there is James and reader pov)

this fic has legit everything so I hope y'all enjoy it bc I busted my ass on it

some parts may be confusing idk

anyways

word count: 10623

warnings: mentions of achohol/drugs, death is mentioned, toxic relationship, break up, angst, smut, fluff, I'm prob forgetting smth

OR SO I THOUGHT (1989)

It had been a rough couple months with James. I felt determined to help him with his only worsening alcoholism, though he only continued to shut me out. I could feel the guilt when he was around, but it didn't make him stop. I tried, I really did, encouraging him to talk to me, to help me help him. 

It was the same sad scene every night. James would come home, probably around midnight, and I couldn't sleep without him next to me, so I was up, all those hours, wondering as I tossed and turned as to where he might be. All I knew is I was in for a scary time when he got back, but I eventually grew tough skin to deal with this.  Understood that this wasn't safe for me, or him, and I stressed that so, so much to him, but James never understood. Well, he never told me he did. Maybe there was more going on in his heart I never knew about. But, of course, I could never discover as he would always close himself off so much.

It was another day where the cycle would repeat. I woke up at three am to the sound of James stumbling in, mumbling something under his breath before he plopped down on the bed beside me, and I knew well enough to hold my tongue, to not provoke him. I pretended I was asleep, which he believed, trying, or at least I think he was trying, to snuggly up next to me, but he had his back to me. His arms weren't around me. Maybe that's all I yearn for now, to be loved and held.

Once I could finally go back to sleep, I was awoken not much later by the sound of my blaring alarm. It was seven am, time to get ready for work. James is a heavy sleeper, he never woke up from my alarms, though I always rushed to turn them off, just in case they would wake him. Slipping out of bed with a groan, I observed his sprawled out body, his shoes still on. I'm glad he made it to the bed this night, as others he would end up on the couch, or in his car, or somewhere I had no idea of.

I pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, like a mother caring for her ill son on a school day. I slipped off his shoes, trying to get him more comfortable. I scurried towards the closet to grab my work clothes for the day before getting changed in the bathroom and rummaging through our medicine cabinet, finding some pain killers and then getting him a cold glass of water, leaving the items on our bedside table. I paused to watch over him as he slept, his slow, steady breaths that rose and fell from his chest. I loved him too much to change this lifestyle. I loved every part of him, and if this was part of him, then so be it. I'll help him get better. He loves every part of me, no matter what, right?

Or so I thought.

I slipped on my heels, walking into our messy kitchen, the sink filled with unwashed dishes James was supposed to do. But, he isn't well, so I must do them for him. After washing the dishes, I brewed coffee, poured myself a cup and left some for him and began to make breakfast. James had been off lately, different to how he already was off, but that slowly became part of our normal, so one new change did not stick out too much, but this one did. I don't know what it is. He just felt… lifeless, cold, I guess. I decided to make one of his favorite breakfast meals, a nice, warm and fluffy stack of pancakes with eggs and bacon, cooked just the way he liked it. I spent extra time trying to make it the best I had. I knew they would probably be cold by the time he woke up, but hopefully he'd appreciate my effort. I ate some eggs before scrambling for a notepad, getting a pen to write him a sweet good morning note, explaining I was at work, when I'd be home, how much I loved him, and where the other meds were if he needed them. I wrote these notes almost daily, but this one I made longer and more love filled. I figured he would want my love.

Or so I thought.

I came home around six pm, the evening traffic being worse than usual. Instead of seeing James' car out of the driveway and the house dark, he was still home. The soft sound of the TV buzzing was easy to hear as I unlocked the door, walking in to see him on the couch, leaning against the couch arm and holding his head up with his hand. He was too engrossed in whatever he was watching to nice me walk in, so I tried to have him notice my presence.

“Im back, Jamie,” I said softly to not startle him, my voice filled with love as I moved to sit next to him, he looked over at me, like a confused puppy. “How are you feeling?” I asked, gently stroking his back, though he moved from my touch.

“Oh, hi. Yeah, I'm fine. Busy right now, yeah?” He mumbled as a response as he resumed watching TV once more, brushing me off with his simple, cold words. I knew I had to respect his space and not probe at him, so I just nodded with a sigh and got up, slipping off my shoes and setting my bags down,

“Are you hungry?” I asked, digging through the fridge to get things to make dinner. He didn't answer. “James, are you hungry? I can make dinner,” I offered again, noticing the cleared plate that I had made him for breakfast, the note missing. I assumed he threw it away, just like the others. I never saw them in the trash cans, but after everything piles up, you can just assume. I heard James sigh from the couch, “Uh, yeah, sure, whatever. Breakfast was cold, so I threw most of it away anyways,” He admitted, and I felt a small ache in my heart. I thought he liked the dish since there was none left on his plate, but clearly he proved me different. Why I even put effort in these things, I don't know. THats a lie, I do. I love him, and want him to know it, to feel it. I should’ve been doing this as part of my own insecurities, but to make sure he knows I'm there for him, always.

I thought of what to make for dinner, seeing if he had eaten anything since breakfast, only finding empty beer bottles and a half eaten bag of chips. It was probably only the alcohol making him act like this. I decided to make steak with potatoes, something he normally liked and said I made pretty well. It was easy to make, and I know it was one of his favorites I made him, but normally I would wait for a bigger step in life, like celebrating something about the band, or something in my career, but I knew he deserved it still.

I finished after 45 minutes, preparing the plate to be gorgeous, something I wish I could hear from his lips for once. But, he loved me. I know he thinks I'm gorgeous, he wouldn't have to tell me. Right?

“Jamie, the food's ready, I made steak,” I said warmly with a smile, setting a dinner table for us. I didn't get a response, just a grunt as he stood from the couch and walked his near empty bottle of beer, finishing it off and grabbing another from the fridge. I sat at the table, waiting for him to come and join me. His eyes landed on the plate, pulling out the chair to sit down. I couldn't read his emotions, he didn't look too happy, but he didn't look mad. He just looked.. plain. James grabbed his fork and began to eat, the metal scraping against the porcelain plate, waiting for his nod of approval. It never came. He didn't talk, but not in a way like he was mad. He just didn't speak. But he didn't need to, he didn't need to say the things I knew already. I took a breath and began to eat, and it might've been one of the best I had cooked in awhile. Perfect tenderness, juiciness, seasoning, and cooked perfectly, something you could get at a restaurant, now in our home. 

“What do you think, baby? I think it's pretty good, no?” I inquired, seeking the validation I craved from him. He just shrugged.

“It's fine, I guess. It could've been better.”

It shouldn't have hurt. It really shouldn't. He just didn't like the dinner I cooked. The dinner I poured my time into. The dinner I made was special. Special for him. But, what did I know? I doubt he meant it. That's why it definitely shouldn't have hurt. He was drinking. ITs just the alcohol making him act like this. He would never say something like that to me. Why did tears prick at my eyes. Why did it actually hurt?

“Oh, uhm…. I'm sorry, I'll do better next time, do you want me to make you something else..?” I choked out, fighting back my tears.

“No, don't waste your time making something mediocre, yeah?” James insisted, insulting me bitterly once again.

I took a shaky breath, another sting to my heart. Hes. Drunk. This can't be what he means, right?

Or so I thought.

“Alright, uh, do you wanna cuddle on the couch..? We can watch anything you want? Or not watch anything, just sit together.” I offered again, pleading to get love from my partner.

“I was probably gonna go to bed. You mind cleaning up?” He pushed me away again, and every word stung. I want him to see me, to notice me, just to love me. But I reminded myself again and again, he's drunk, he doesn't mean it, he doesn't mean it. I'm just being sensitive and pathetic. Maybe it's just my hormones.

I nodded, forcing a smile, “Sure, yeah, go ahead and  go to bed, I'll clean up and join you in a bit, ok?” I informed him and he just nodded and got up, walking to the bedroom, still carrying his battle with him. My eyes stung, and once he was out of sight, I felt tears streak my face, but I continued to fight them away. I quickly got up to clear James’ and my own plate, then  cleaning the kitchen, washing everything with great care to keep it tidy.

I came into the bedroom, James half asleep under the sheets. His hair was astray as he slept near the edge, his limbs tight together. The now empty beer bottle sat on the nightstand, another reminder of James’ habits. I glanced around before getting changed into my sleep clothes, a nice little night dress James had gotten me for Valentines Day earlier that year. It was nice and pink with some fluffy pieces at the bottom and lace dancing across it. It flowed nicely and hugged my body in the right places, going down to a bit above my knees. It had some other pieces, like stockings and a garter. In reality, it was more so lingerie than a bed set. But, it was one of James’ favorites for me to wear. Maybe this would make him open up more, or just show me the love I'm craving. I crawled in beside him, though I doubt he noticed the weight accompanying him, trying to cuddle closer, pressing myself against his back.

“Jamie?” I asked softly, kissing the back of his head.

“Hm.” James answered in a sleepy tone, barely aware of my presence.

“You doing ok? You've been acting differently…” I kept a quiet tone, my hands gently running down his arms and back as I pondered on what may be hurting him so much.

He took a deep and large breath, sighing, “Yeah, I'm fine… why do you ask..?” James mumbled in response.

“Nothing, you just seem off, I guess,” I rushed out. I didn't want to upset him, but he just seemed so soft and sweet, something I hadn't seen from him awhile.

“Oh, well, alright then… love you..” He mumbled out, slowly succumbing to sleep after saying the words I knew were true.

Or so I thought.

The office today was exhausting. Absurdly exhausting. And infuriating. A stuck up and snotty boss whos full of himself ordering me around to do his mundane dirty work, my co workers giving me side glances of judgment for my more rushed than normal appearance, not having as much time this morning as I had to help James with yet another hangover, getting him to the bathroom in time before he painted our bed green in vomit, making him some foods to keep him comfortable and having to buy more pain killers, my 3rd trip this month, all before heading to work. All I wanted was to come home, sleep, relax, and be held by the love of my life. 

As simple as an office job 9-5 may seem, how it is not. No one else wants to do their own work, always needing some kind of assistance, and of course, I none the wiser, agree to help them.

It was another late evening with heavy traffic, not allowing me to come home until seven, again. I had stopped at the market, grabbing food and other supplies we were running low on. And more beer. 

The door to the house was locked, something that had been happening more and more as I came home, only growing worries on James' worsening habits, the idea of drugs coming to mind, but I tried to shake it from my head, just wanting a nice time at home. 

I unlocked the door, the house quiet except for the soft strum of a guitar in James’ mini studio, which was just an extra bedroom we had turned into a spot for him to store his instruments and for his practeing. We hoped one day for it to become a nursery, a room for our future child.

I followed the music, the half open door allowing me to peek at James, hunched over one of his explorers, fiddling with the strings as he danced around the fretboard with his talented fingers. I smiled at the sweet sight, slowly entering the room.

“Whatcha working on?” I asked, announcing my arrival home. James looked up at me, at first a smile on his face, but he quickly dropped it. His actions only confused me further.

“Uhm, not much, just… a couple riffs and stuff for the new album..” He answered, still picking at the strings with something unreadable in his eyes.

I nodded, smiling at him, “It sounds good, I'm excited to hear it,” I responded before speaking again, “Work was so exhausting today, I don't know how I put up with it anymore,” I said with a laughy sigh, trying to lighten the statement.

James just shrugged. “I mean, I don't really see how a nine to five can really be that tiring,” He disputed, but his tone sounded unsure, shaky like how it did when we first met. But there was a force, an anger of some kind.

I was even more lost with his shift in attitude, “Well, what do you mean? You don't work one, you wouldn't know,” I argued back with more aggression than I meant.

“Yeah, I don't work one. Your job is light and relaxing feather work compared to the shit I do. You are out doing twelve hours a day for months on end at a studio, being out for a year just to tour and shit, you don't make anything working that job, I'm the one paying the bills with my money.” James spat, cold and bitter. His words rung in my ears, repeating each syllable like a painful stab. My brain scrambled for reasons to understand his reaction and response to my complaint of work.

James' piercing blue eyes still starred up and me, my mouth agape in shock. Why would he act like this? He loved me. He just told me he did the other week before we went to bed. I don't know what I'm doing wrong. What is wrong in his life that I don't know about, that he wont tell me about.

My eyes scanned the room, searching for anything that might explain this behavior of his. Truly, anything that would help explain such a swift and sudden change in his mood, but deep down ZI knew, I was just looking for bottles, cans, cups, glasses, anything that would contain the fizzy and bitter liquid he loved. The only thing I could find was a half empty bottle, freshly opened next to the chair he sat in. That's it, that's why he's acting like this. He's just drunk. He doesn't mean it. He doesn't mean it.

Or so I thought.

Even with my new found reasoning, his words still hurt a great amount, the pain struggling to leave. A simple insult, just telling me how I don't work as hard as him, that my job isn't as crucial as his. I took a breath, trying to control and reign in my emotions before I could meltdown in front of him for such a stupid reason. Drunken words, not filled or backed by any true thoughts. Right?

But they do say drunk words are sober thoughts.

“I- well,” I tried to speak, but I couldn't come up with the words. What would I say? I didn't want to make him any more upset than he seemed to be, but I didn't want to submit to him so easily, especially after such disrespect. But I knew better. I don't lash out, I keep him happy. We will work this out together, we have to.

“I'm just gonna go to bed,” I muttered under my breath, fighting back tears that needed to spill out, James rude comments only adding fuel to the fire that had been burning in me all day. Not a fire of anger, passion or desire, but a fire of hurt. Once I shut the bedroom door behind me silently, I broke. The bottle shattered, and my tears overflowed my face, covering my mouth as I cried, trying to calm myself down as I got ready for bed at such an early hour, even forgetting to make James something for dinner.

It was my day off, a relaxing Saturday I could use to have some me time, as James was gonna be out with the band all day as the brainstormed for the new album, which was still taking its baby steps into production, nowhere near any concept for songs yet. At Least that I knew of. 

James had been really tense this week, and I had tried everything to get him to relax and cheer up. Taking him out to his favorite restaurants after I came home, making him home cooked meals, getting him gifts and all things. Though there was one thing I hadn't tried. Sex.

I spent all day dolling myself up, wanting to be as bare and beautiful as possible for James. I shaved everywhere, leaving not a single trace of hair anywhere except for my head,, of course. I scrubbed every nook and cranny of my body, putting on James’ favorite set we bought together, doing my makeup just the way he liked it, lighting the candles he got for my birthday, and dousing myself in his favorite perfume I owned. All the lights were out, except for the lowlights of the candles in the bedroom. I laid on the mattress, waiting for James to come home, hoping this would finally get him to unwind from his stress.

I heard James’ keys jingle in the door, and I could feel myself getting more and more excited for his arrival. This would be one of the few times I would have him sober, as when they worked on material they rarely drank or did anything crazy, thankfully. His shoes thudded on the wooden floors, a sigh escaping his lips as I heard him slowly walk towards the bedroom.

“Are you home?” He called out to me before approaching the bedroom door, taking in the sight of me and the room I had spent the evening preparing for this moment.

“Hey baby,” I mused with a smirk, looking up at him with loving eyes. His eyes met mine, looking warm for the first time in awhile.

“What's all this for?” He asked,  still taking in the well decorated bedroom and my sexy form.

“Wanted to help you relax… you've been so stressed,” I replied, grabbing his hand to try and bring him closer, to get into the bed with me.

It didn't take much more conniving, and James had given in pretty quickly to my offer. He was being more loud than normal, probably because we hadn't had the chance to be intimate like this in awhile. I loved this so much. Well, I loved being close to James again. He wasn't hitting the right spots or focussing on pleasuring me much, but that's fine, he's the one who needed to relax anyways, and I have enough time on my hands if I wanted to please myself, I guess. It didn't take long for him to come, pulling out and painting himself on my abdomen and my breath labored, coming down from…. Well, not an orgasm, but being close to one. James was beat after that, and I don't blame him for that. He had been so busy recently, I was happy we just got to share a moment like this together again. 

I laid close to him under the sheets as we both recovered, James already half asleep. I had his hand in mine, kissing each knuckle of his and more, pouting all of my love into that moment. I looked up, having felt James’ eyes on me for a while. I met his blues, and there was a slight guilt in them, a gestation and regret. But, it didn't last long as he blinked it all away, taking another breath. 

“How are you feeling now? Did it make it any better?” I asked, my voice heavy with sleep as I lazily continued to press kisses to his hand.

“I mean, yeah, I guess… It wasn't like, amazing though… I've had better, normally the groupies can do a bit more than that, y’know?” James said cooly, acting as if the words he just said didn't mean anything and had no weight to them.

“What?” Was all I could muster out, the tears already filling my eyes as I tried to process all of this.

“You heard me, the groupies normally do better.” 

The words came so normally from his mouth, as if he was just telling me the date and time. But no, he was comparing me to prostitutes, previous women he has slept with. I began to cry, not just out of hurt and sadness, but this time anger. How could he say something like that to me?

And then the worst part hit.

He was sober.

Something I would've wanted more than anything else just a few days ago is now what is causing this experience to be even worse than it is with the horrible comparison and insults James had spewn at me. He meant it. Alcohol was toying with his brain, making him into the aggravated man I had grown to know quite well over the years.

“Are… are you serious? After everything? I put myself through hell to deal with this, to go to work, to do EVERYTHING for you! I have tried so hard James. And Yet you still compare me to them?! Sluts with prices on their heads?!” I cried, anger and hurt filling the fire in my eyes, and I could swear I saw Jamw\es’ cold attitude falter for just a moment. Maybe it was what I was hoping for, that it was all an act, that he truly did love me deep down, but maybe he didn't. Maybe this is the truth I had been hiding from all these months.

James didn't res;ond, just sighing with a shrug.

That's what pushed me over the edge.

“Are you fucki ng serious? You're not even gonna try and fight for this? Get out of here! We're done. Since you don't appreciate anything I do for you nowadays, I don't want you in here anymore. Pack your shit and leave.” I cursed at him as I continued to sob, processing the moments that passed, feeling as if the earth was slowing, each second hitting me hard and heavy.

I could see a slight guilt in James’ eyes, and as much I wanted to believe it was true, I couldn't give it in myself to do that anymore. I couldn't keep living this lie. He nodded, staying silent as I cried, slipping on his clothes and grabbing some things he'd need for the night.

“I loved you because you loved me, or so I thought you loved me, truly you don't give a shit!” I called out again, hearing James breath hitch at my harsh words, but he just left. No goodbye, the final words spoken to us only filled with hate and hurt, though millions went unspoken.

— —- — —> A FEW MONTHS LATER…

Not a lot has happened since I broke up with James, but a lot has changed. Maybe for the better. I miss him terribly, but a lot of weight is off of my shoulders now. I'm no longer worrying about having to make elaborate meals for him, or to do everything in my power to make him happy as [possible, watching my words at all times to make sure I wont say anything that might upset him. It was a large change. The house is still cold like how it was with him, but its a different kind of cold. There is no warmth of another body. Its quiet, no more TV static and laughter or guitar. Work had only gotten more tiring, but I had recently gotten promoted, something I had wanted for a long, long time.

I haven't spoken to James since we broke up. I know he had come by the next day, as when he left that night he only took clothes to last him the night, and when I came home from work, all of his belongings were gone, and his spare key was left on the counter, all of his music gear out of the house, leaving me a now empty room, not to house his guitars, and no longer holding the hopes and dreams of a future child.

Or so I thought all of his stuff was gone.

I came home after work, the house dark and silent, turning on the lights before going into the former music room, which had now become my office for the time being, as I needed one for the promotion, to be able to have a comfortable spot where I could do other work tasks from home. I set down my purse, sitting in my computer chair and sliding off my heels. I saw something in the corner of my eye, something that somehow had never caught my eye all these months. 

An ashtray, repurposed to hold James’ many guitar picks. It was behind a lamp that was in the corner of the room on an end table. There was more than just guitar pics, but one of his rings. Like the ones he always wore on stage, the cool reflective metal that shone brightly under the spotlight. I paused, only having gotten one heel off, so confused as to how I never noticed. I sat in this same chair, facing the same direction, taking my heels off the same each day. I quickly got the other off before walking towards the table, picking up the ashtray, having remnants of cigarette butts and ash, some of which covered the pics. There had to be at least 20 of those pics, I don't know how James could forget such a thing, along with one of his more favorite rings. He wore it when we met, but I never made the connection as to that being the reason he left it. I missed him, yes, but having these almost made it worse. Like the world was teasing me that he is gone, that I won't be able to be held by him again, because he doesnt love me anymore. How I still love him, I don't know. Part of me still wants to believe he never meant any of it, but the chances of that being true is slim now. But, I didn't have the heart to call him, to return them to him. He would have come to get them by now, right? 

I picked up the cold metal, holding it in my hand before slipping it on my ring finger. It was too large, slipping off quite easily. I tried the next, my middle finger, and it fit well enough to not fall off. It felt so wrong to wear, but it made me feel closer to him. I hated it, but I loved it. A little piece of him to be with me always. ‘God, I sound like a wife mourning her husband who died in a war.’ Was all I could think to myself, setting back down the ash tray and taking off the ring before sitting back down in my office chair, trying to shake my head of the matter so I could focus on the important task at hand, work.

I spent about two hours on the assignment before finishing it among other things, now exhausted even further. I stumbled towards the bedroom, changing into my pajama pants and a sleep shirt. Since the break up, I have refused to wear or even look at the clothes sJames had bought me. I didn't feel any desire to wear those things now that I knew he would be the one to see me in them. I never really wanted to wear clothes like that, but knowing he liked it made me like it. Now that he's gone, so is that enjoyment. I layed down on the mattress, sinking down as it swallowed me and the day whole. I had gotten used to the loneliness of sleeping alone, even after having a body next to me for the last four years. Maybe it was an easier adjustment as towards the end it was like sleeping next to no one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The last few months are hard to describe. I can't explain it, I really can't. I've never been more lonely in my life, drowning all of my sorrows in the bitter bottles that wasted away each night and day. I've tried putting my energy elsewhere, focusing more on the band than I was earlier, trying to pour my emotions into guitar and lyrics, but nothing works. Nothing matches what I once had. What I threw away. What I ruined. Though, all my life, through all my struggles, there was one thing I learned.

Mask your emotions, hide your turmoil. It's something I had quickly gotten good at from a young age.

Or so I thought.

I went out for drinks with Lars to discuss lyrics and other parts of music for the record, as we normally had for our other productions and everything. We had another few weeks before we went into the studio, where we planned to record for many months, wanting this release to be the best we ever had. 

Before I had even gone out to the bar with Lars, I had already had a few bars at home, or what I had tried to make into my home. It was a home, yeah, but it didn't feel homey. There was no warmth or touch to it to make it seem whimsical or joyful. I know I have a problem, but what is there I can do. 

When I got there, Lars’s car was already outside, and I knew I was late by thirty minutes, having to build up the motivation to leave the house for a reason other than food, so trying to get up and socialize and talk about important stuff was not on my top choices to do.

I trudged in, my eyes darting around for the Danish, who was never that hard to find. And as I expected, I found him somewhat quickly, taking a seat next to him and ordering a drink for myself.

“Hey man, where the fock have you been? Been waiting here ages for ya,” Lars commented with his laugh, sipping on his own drink.

I just shrugged, “Sorry man, there was just…” I tried to think of a reasonable excuse, but none could come to mind. “Traffic, y’know, it gets bad around five or six, all those people getting off of work,” I explained, thinking I was an expert at this facade.

“Alright, whatever you say. Let's get to work now, yeah?” Lars tried to believe me, but it was clear he knew there was something more to what I said. 

I just nodded, “Yeah,” I answered, and Lars took out his notepad where he already had some ideas for songs. The mask was as strong as stone, no way to see in.

Or so I thought.

 Lars looked back to me, a thought popping back in his mind, “Traffic? There's normally not much in this area, I mean before you moved out of that place, shit, traffic was bad, but here? No way,” Lars questioned me, no longer believing a word I had said. 

“Well, I guess it was just different today…” I muttered, “Let's just start now, leave it be,”. Lars agreed reluctantly, and soon we were sharing ideas sas I jotted down lyrics, Lars taking turns as we debated on the new project.

Of course, as we worked, we were drinking. Me more than him, and it was getting me tipsy, and then drunk. Normally we wouldn't get drunk during lyric writing, just a bit.. Wobbly, I guess. We were just reviewing the lyrics for the third song we were jotting up and I had ordered another drink.

“Jesus man, you only focused on drinking? We got shit to do!” Lars complained to me, and I just shrugged. “Sorry, got my priorities here…” I joked, and Lars only gave a pity laugh.

“Is something up? You've been acting weird as hell for the last few months. We barely see you anymore, and when we do, you're late.” He informed me firmly, clearly not wanting to put up with my demeanor much longer.

“I'm fine, didn't I already tell you that?” I responded, and at this point I just wanted to go home. “Well, you can tell me it a million fuckin’ times and that doesnyt mean Ill believe you,” He rebuttled, and I sighed. “So, what's up with you?”

I didn't want to answer, well sober me would've deflected. But drunk me? He doesn't have much of a filter. Who does when they're drunk anyways?

“Nothings up with me, just dealing with shit…” I answered, taking another sip of my drink.

“Ok, well dealing with what?” 

“The breakup, and everything,” I answered, my eyes avoiding Lars’s own.

“Ohh, yeah, I see. What happened anyways? You never went into detail, just saying she kicked you out in the middle of the night. The fuck did you do to her?” He laughed, but the sting of the memories still remained.

“I.. well, I told her she was a shit cook, lazy, didnt work as hard me, and that groupies fuck better,” I admitted. Lars' face changed from a small smile to a look of shock.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah”

“What would make you say something like that?! That's totally messed up!” I knew this would be shocking, especially coming from me to say something like that. But I didn't expect him to be this shocked.

“No, I did it for a reason, I'm not just some asshole! I didn't want to break up with her, and I didnt want her to break up with me, but I knew I had to get her to break up with me. I keep drinking, and it makes me into… I don't know, I'm a different person and I don't want to hurt her. The only option was to force her to break up with me.” I tried to explain, but Lars was quick to respond.

“Only option?! Have you heard of rehab? Getting help? Did she just let you waste away?”

“I didn't want to go to rehab either, and no, she did try to help, but I don't want help…” It was getting embarrassing at this point, showing how weak I had become.

“James, not everything is about what you want! There's things you need to do, but you don't want to. Those are just as important.” He paused, hoping my worlds would process through me as he thought of an idea. “How about this, clean up your act a bit and I'll get her back over here and you can go back to paradise, alright?” Lars offered and I perked up a bit.

“How the hell do you expect her to come back to me after all of that?”

“I never said she'd come back to you, I said I can get her over here, make you guys talk or something.” He corrected me, and I just rolled my eyes.

“Well how are you gonna get her to come here? She probably hates me at this point,” 

“I have my ways, we were closer friends than you probably remember,” Lars’ words didn't help. He could never explain his plan, and that's what always ticked me off about him.

“Fine, whatever, work your midget magic or something,” I muttered under my breath.

“What did you just say to me?” 

“Nothing, nothing, just do whatever it is, alright?” 

“Fine.”

— — — — > A WEEK LATER…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time moves slow these days. But not in a bad way, it was nice that life was hitting the breaks a bit instead of the pedal. Though, that joy wouldn't last long.

I sat in my office chair at work, working on some papers my boss had handed me a few minutes ago. He was giving me stack after stack after stack of papers today, all coming with my promotion I got a bit back. More money means more work, and more work means more money, so I guess it isn't all too bad in the long run. I glanced up from my paper, eyeing the now double repurposed ashtray, one being made for the intents of cigarette butts, then guitar pics, and now it held my keys and some other trinkets, including one singular guitar pic of James, one of his favorites. 

I was startled out of my thoughts by hearing the office phone ring, quickly reaching to grab it, assuming it was a customer call.

“Hi, this is Capital Advisors, how can I help you?” I offered in a cheery tone, but the voice I heard response was not what I had expected.

“Hey man, look, it's Lars, something happened to James, you mind heading down to the studio?”

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Sure, Lars and I were close, but we haven't talked much since James and I’s break up. My words caught in my throat, processing the second half. “Something happened to James? What happened? Is he ok?” Even though he proved himself worthy of a break up, I still couldn't shake my love and worry for him.

“Uhhhh, yeah, no, sure he's fine, but you just needa come to the studio?” Lars rambled, not sure how to keep up his lie.

“Ok, yeah, of course, when do I need to be there?” My mind was racing, Lars wasn't being direct with what happened, so my mind could only think of the worst. He always poland things off to make them not seem as bad as they were. What if James fell and hurt himself? Overdosed on something? Only darker thoughts hit my mind.

“Like, now, this can't wait,” Lars demanded, and I had no choice but to agree.

“Yeah, I will be there as soon as I can, ok? Tell him I’ll be there soon, I don't want him to worry,” I gave in and then Lars thanked me and hung up. 

Now I don't know what to do. My boss wasn't the type of person to just let me leave whenever I want, and I had already promised to Lars I would be there immediately. Though, my worries got the best of me and I quickly began to gather my stuff together. I grabbed my keys and my purse, quickly heading to my boss's office. 

I always hated going in here, it was freezing since the AC was always blasted, and it reeked of musty air freshener. I gently knocked on the door before I heard his baritone voice respond, telling me to come in. I entered, seeing him sitting there, filing papers. 

“Can I help you?” He said in a monotone voice, opening and shutting cabinets.

“Yes, I need to leave, like right now. ITs an emergency, family matter,” I tried to briefly explain, but it didn't take long for him to come up with a new response.

“Emergency? Of what? Is someone dying?” His eyes looked up from his papers, meeting mine as he waited for an answer.

“I… Well, I don't know,” I muttered, and it was true, I really didn't. With Lars’ vagueness, I tru;y didn't have a reason to not assume James was already on his deathbed.

“How can you not know?” He questioned me as if I was stupid, then noticing my pale and shaky look of true worry, “Fine, yes, you can go, but you're leaving three hours early. I want you working those hours back tomorrow. Understood?” He finally made an offer, and I quickly accepted without hesitation.

“Yes, thank you, and I'm sorry,” I responded with a smile and a nod, quickly leaving the office and getting to my car as fast as possible. Lars never specified where exactly the studio was, but I had been there a few times with James to hear them practice and record. I did my best to remember the way there, speeding in some places and having to make a couple U turns to figure out the exact spot. The whole time my head was buzzing, I could not think of one normal reason as to why James would want me there. He clearly didn’t like me much towards the end, even though I still like to think he never meant it and that it was only the alcohol talking, but I was probably wrong. Why did I still care so much after being so wrongfully disrespected? Part of me still loved him. Still wanted to wake up next to him every morning, hear the faint strumming of a guitar whenever I came home from work. Now those days were gone, and never looked like they would return. I still worried for the worst for James, endless horrid possibilities arising in my brain, all trying to piece the puzzle together.

When I finally pulled up, I saw two other cars out in front, not seeing James’ car, assuming Lars gave him a ride and KIrk giving Jason one. No cop cars or ambulances or fire trucks, so he isn't dying, or maybe they already left. Maybe I was too late? 

I quickly got out of the car, almost running to the studio door, knocking until Lars came and opened it for me.

“Hey! There you are, took ya long eno-” Lars was quickly cut off by my own anxieties.

“Where is he? Is he ok? Was I not fast enough?” I quickly voiced out, my eyes darting around the inside and searching for him.

“Yeah, relax. He's fine. He's inside-”

“If he's fine then why did you make me come here from work?! I thought he was dying or something crazy,” I cut him off, questioning his efforts.

“No, none of that, you worry too much. He just wants to talk with you,” Lars answered, and my previous worries and a new suspicion grew in me.

“Just want to talk? Last time I talked with him he was critiquing me! He hates me! He doesn't want anything to do with me!” I voiced the feelings that had been clawing at me for months, never having anyone to tell them to.

“Or so you think. Look, just talk to him, that's all this is, ok?” Lars grew tired of my attitude and clearly I would have to give in soon.

“I want to, I want to talk to him, but I doubt he wants to talk to me,” I responded, trying to further explain my hesitations.

“I just told you that he wants to talk to you! Go in there, please!” Lars pleaded with me, and I sighed, finally agreeing.

“Ok, ok, I will,” I answered, beginning to head into the studio.

“Thank you! He's just down the hall, in that room with the sound equipment and everything,” Lars informed me, and I followed him, seeing James hunched over a table, scribbling down on a piece of paper. My heart was racing now. I hadn't seen him since that night. I didn't know what I would say to him, I was worried what he would say to me.

Then he looked up at me.

His cold, piercing blue eyes, a newfound softness in them as our eyes met. I avoided his eyes, but felt his lingering on me. Lars guided me in, shutting the door behind himself, leaving us alone. I was unsure of what to say, my eyes lingering on the floor, hearing James set down his pen.

“Uh… hi…” He started, probably just as unsure as I was.

“Hi,” I responded back shyly, avoiding his gaze, though I could still feel his own on me. The sound of footsteps approached me, instantly recognizing them as James’, and then I heard a click. Lars had locked us in here, now forced to talk.

“I.. I'm sorry, I really am,” He mumbled, and I looked up at him, seeing a true guilt in his eyes, “I wish I didn't do it, that I didn't say those things, that I didn't make you hurt so much like that… I should’ve been much more, well, mature about it. I feel like shit for everything,” James explained to me, but this only caused me to have more and more questions.  

“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice still a hushed whisper as a wave of various emotions crashed down on me. “I had reasons for what I did, I just wish I went about it differently. I wish I had listened to you when you had offered me help. I didn't want to hurt you with my habits, and I couldn't break up with you, I didn't want to be the one to do that, so… so I tried to make you break up with me, and you did. Everything I said, it was a lie. I never meant it. You're a great cook, you work hard, you're just… you're amazing, you're too good for me.” James confessed, and I could feel a bit of the cold melt away, though still a hurt in my heart.

“Then why make me come and tell me all of this? This would only pour salt in that wound, no?” I was still confused at why he would make such an effort, but I still found it touching.

“Because I still love you. I want things back the way they were. I swear on everything, I've changed. I miss you more than anything-” I cut him off with a sweet kiss to his lips, and he melted into me, wrapping his arms around me in a comforting and loving embrace.

After James pulled away, he looked me in my eyes, “How could you forgive me for saying all of that to you?” He began, “Id think you would just… hate me, I was a total jerk,”

“Or so you'd think. I still love you and miss you more than you could imagine,” I responded with a  small smile, and James matched mine, kissing me again. “Can… can I show you how much I've missed you?” James asked in a mumbled tone, clearly a bit embarrassed. My cheeks heated up at his offer and I giggled, nodding as our lips met a third time, a new hunger and desire now displayed. Slowly, he walked me to the table until I had backed up into it, his hands trailing up my sides until we broke away, his lips now going down my neck, eliciting a needy whine from the back of my throat, my hands pulling him closer, snaking under his shirt to trace his skin. 

James’s fingers slipped under my shirt, working to get it off of my head, leaving my neck for only a second to remove the fabric before attaching himself to my sensitive flesh, feeling him suck and nibble, definitely leaving bruises. He gave a more harsh bite, causing me to whimper, then soothing it over with his tongue before pulling away. Soon his gaze focused on my breasts, still confined with my bra. His eyes met mine again, “Can I take it off?” He asked ,already reaching around my back to work on the clasp, which had become an easy task for him. I nodded, and soon the garment was now on the floor with my shirt. The cold air caused my nipples to erect immediately, and James’ eyes were locked on them, cupping the in his hands as he squeezed them and pinched at my nipples, making me make high needy sounds, causing him to smirk, kissing around the soft flesh, teasing me with every movement he made. 

I began to claw at his shirt, trying to take it off of him, so he reluctantly pulled away from my chest, removing his own shirt, giving me a view I had missed more than I care to admit. My eyes dragged slowly over the newly exposed skin, and his lips crashed down on mine again, pushing me back so far I was now laying down on the table, the cold wood causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. I tugged at James’ pants, feeling myself grow wetter at the moment. He slipped down his pants, leaving him in only his boxers as you pulled down my skirt, leaving me in only my panties. I could see the bulge in his final layer grow at the new sight, and then he got on his knees, gripping the sides of my aunties and taking them off in a swift motion, leaving my glistening folds exposed to his hungry view.. His warm lips teased my thighs, kissing around the area I needed him most, making me writhe with desire. Eventually, his tongue found my center, giving it soft licks at first, parting my folds with his tongue. A moan escaped my throat, and James took it as his sign to keep going, burying his face between my thighs. He licked and sucked at my hole, probing at it with his tongue as his nose nudged my sensitive clit. My hand snaked into his long blonde locks, gripping his scalp tightly as I pulled him closer. I could hear him groan into my flesh, causing a vibration to coarse through me, making me moan again as I came closer to my first high. Eventually James moved further up, giving more attention to my aching clit, giving it gentle licks first to tease me before sucking it into his mouth, biting it softly, making me squeal from his ministrations.

“Jamei, fuck, Im gonna cum,” I whined out, tugging on hair harder, causing him to let out another low groan as he continued to feast on me. “Cum for me pretty girl,” He mumbled into my flesh, and like that my orgasm washed over me, a breathy moan falling my lips, feeling my core pulsate , releasing my grip on James’ head, allowing him to pull back.

James chin was drenched in my essence and his spit, some caught in his facial hair, wiping it off on the back of his hand. I dont think Ive seen anything hotter. His eyes landed on mine, and I noticed a lustful darkness in them, kissing me again as our tongues tangled in a battle for dominance, James winning in the end, and soon his boxers were on the ground, both of us bare in front of each other again.

JAmes broke the kiss, trailing his lips down my neck, leaving new hickeys and bruises in his wake as they now peppered my neck. I felt his tip at my entrance and I squirmed, his lips leaving my bruised flesh. “You ready, baby?” He asked, taking my hand in his, and I nodded, feeling him slowly push into me, the stretching sensation stinging my insides, a delicious stretch my body had missed as I tried to accommodate his size. Once he was to the hilt, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, squeezing his hand tightly.

I gave him a look of a need, and he gook note, slowly beginning to pump his hips, untwining our fingers as he positioned himself with better support, placing his arms on either side of my head. With every thrust a moan escaped my throat, tears pricking at my eyes from the pleasure. “Fuck, you’re so tight… haven't had anything since me, hmmm?” James whispered to me, and I could only whine in response, his calloused fingers sneaking down to my clit, brushing the bud lightly with the pad of thumb, and I began to squirm around his cock, feeling his thrusts increase with speed, more grunts falling from James.

The table I laid on creaked beneath from our frevorus movements of need, completely forgetting we were still in the studio. The band was still in that studio. This room wasn't for recording, very little sound blockers. Anyone in this building could hear us. The thought didn't pass my mind once throughout the whole experience, only focused and becoming closer with James once again, not just in body, but in our connection reforming with every minstration from either of us.

James' thrusts grew relentless, only increasing the pleasure for both of us as he chased his own high, helping me with mine, continuing to toy with and stroke my clit, moans and whines leaving me with any movement he made. “So pretty like this, baby, taking me so well,” He groaned, his small grunts and moans filling my ears like sweet music. I began to buck my hips, knowing that my orgasm was approaching, James not far behind, his vocal expression of pleasure growing in number and volume, mixing with my own mewls and moans, that and the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room, my nails clawing his back.

My eyes began to roll back, James’ name falling from my lips a thousand times as my legs wrapped around his waist, trying to pull him deeper to finally bring me to edge. James noticed and thrusted harder, hitting that special spot with every movement, making me have to cover my mouth with my hand, the unholy noises escaping me growing too loud for us to stay secret. James disapproved, “Mmmm, don't do that baby, let me hear you cum around my cock,” He cooed, and that was all the encouragement I needed to come over the edge, a high pitched moan coming from me, feeling my walls clamp down on James’ length, pulsating as waves of pleasure cascaded over me. James helped me ride through it, still rubbing my sensitive nub, his thrusts losing rhythm as he approached his own high.

“Fuck, sweetie, gonna cum inside you…” He grunted, his pace increasing as his movement became erratic with pleasure. “Take it, take it like a good girl, baby,” He moaned, his load shooting deep inside of me and painting my walls white with his seed. His hips sputtered, bucking into me as he collapsed on top of me, our sweaty foreheads clinging together as we both recovered from the intense orgasms, trying to catch our breath. James pressed soft, lazy kisses around my face, reminding me how much he loved me and how he'd never hurt me again if given the chance.

After a moment, we both had come down from our highs, James’ softening member sliding out of me with a pop. He looked down at the mess between my thighs, all evidence of our pleasure with each other. “Youre fuckin’ perfect,” He muttered, his eyes dragging over me.

“Are the groupies still better?” I teased him, remembering our bickering that was one real, or so I thought it was real fighting.

“Oh, hell no, they don't stand a chance to this,” He responded with a smile, and I smiled back.

We cleaned up, slipping back on our clothes so we were somewhat presentable. Only now did the realization that we were never once alone in this studio and the rest of the band was outside had hit me. A wave of embarrassment flowed over me, my cheeks flushing even more than they were before given the previous activities. Both James and I looked quite disheveled, our hair a mess and clothes wrinkled. I tried to shake off whatever nervousness I had in me as James put his arm around me. We went to reach for the door handle, only to find out it was still locked. Now it would be even more awkward. James knocked on the door from the inside, calling out to Lars, or anyone else in the studio.

“Guys? Lars? Can someone unlock the door?” And it wasn't long before footsteps approached, hearing a key click as the door swung open, Lars, more curious than ever eyed both my own and James’ appearance, noticing the hickeys, the slight wobble I gave, and any other imperfections that we might have displayed.

“I take it you two worked things out?”

— — — — > A FEW WEEKS LATER…

It had taken some time, a lot of talking, and more than just one hook up for James and I to work out any other issues that we had with each other. We met up a lot in the recent weeks after that, discussing different ways on how to help James with his drinking, and just trying to regain eachothers trust.

Soon enough though, James had moved back in with me. I kept my office space, but now the room was split in two halves. I worked in one half, while James did his guitar work in the other half. It was a fairly large room, so we both had our own spaces and rarely bothered each other. If I had a work call or anything that required silence, James would just migrate to the living room.

It was the same old schedule we had all those months ago, and I was now returning from work. It was Friday, now I would have plenty of time to relax and be with James. I pulled into the driveway, parking and getting out of my car as I walked up to the porch, the click of my heels following my steps on the cement. The lights were on, the door unlocked. I could hear a faint strumming coming from inside, meaning James was hard at work on new material for the album. It was my favorite thing to listen to while doing work assignments at home.

I walked in with a huff, setting down my purse and keys on the counter before heading to the shared office space. James wasn't playing much, just sounded like scales and chords for his warm ups. “How was work, baby?” James greeted me, still focused on his guitar. “It was a bit tiring, but it was good. I think my boss is starting to like me,” I answered, settling into my chair. He nodded in response, going back to fiddling with the strings.

It wasn't until a little later a soft, sweet and melodic tune had hit my ears. Much different than what Metallica normally plates. James hummed along to it, almost like he had lyrics already written out. But knowing him, he probably did.

“What are you playing? It sounds really nice,” I started, listening to a few more notes before continuing, “It's not what you guys normally play,” I commented, and James let out a deep hum in response. “Just something new I'm working on,” He replied, and I nodded, getting back to work.

Only this time, I couldn't focus. Normally James’s music helped me to focus, becoming a comforting background noise. This time though, I couldn't get my mind off of that melody. He kept going, and each second I kept getting more and more captivated by it. 

“That songs really pretty, I like it,” I said, scribbling down whatever notes I couldnt on a piece of paper. “Thanks, it's actually, uhm..” He trailed off, and I knew something was up. I spun around in my chair, going to face him. “It's what?” I asked, confused by his shy demeanor. 

“It's called ‘Nothing Else Matters’,” He stated, finally stopping picking at the strings. “Nothing Else Matters?” I repeated, connecting whatever the lyrics might be in my head to the melody. Normally their slower, melodic songs were dark and heavy topics, so I expected the same with this one.

“Yeah,” James answered, “I wrote the lyrics about you, actually,” He muttered softly, though I still picked it up. “About me?” I questioned, slightly shocked. “Yeah… I've thought a lot about, well, everything recently. Ever since that point a few months back I've reflected and everything… Rumors spread, and I just want everyone out there to get the right idea,” He paused, searching for the right words, “I want people out there to know that you're all I care about, you mean more than the world to me, and I want everyone to know that,” He stated, his tone true and emotional. I had never heard him say sweeter words to me, and I knew that he was speaking nothing other than the truth, I could see it in his eyes, there's a way to read people, and James wasn't easy to read, but you soon could learn the lingo.

“That means a lot to me, Jamie,” I answered, smiling at him. I got up from my chair to sit next to him on the couch, leaning against him. “Thank you,” I said, kissing him on the cheek. “You don't need to thank me, sweetheart,” James responded, wrapping his arm around me.

And now, I knew my whole world was whole again. What was once hatred, or so I thought was hatred, was once again love, everything as it should be.

[yagirlwrites]

Make Me Proud | (Sub!Rafe)

Pairing: sub!Rafe x domme!Reader

Synopsys: Rafe and Reader finally get to release their pent up tension from the Halloween party. He wants to earn his prize so they explore a new way of pleasure together.

Warnings: SMUT (18+), anal play (m receiving), oral (f receiving), fluff

Word Count: 6.4k

A/N: Hii!!! I know it took me a while but it's finally finished! I hope you enjoy this smutty goodnes and that it was worth the wait! Let me know what you think! I'm excited for them exploring more ways to give/receive pleasure!

Series Masterlist

My work is my own; it's not to be copied, transferred or translated. Reblogs, comments, feedback are always welcome and appreciated❤️

Happy reading🥰

Make Me Proud

The harsh rays of sun pricked at his eyelids forcing him to awaken against his will, letting out a pained groan. Blinking his eyes open he slowly begun to gather his bearings and the first thing he noticed was the emptiness of the bed next to him.

There was a low pang in his chest at her absence. The second thing he noticed was the pounding in his head, no doubt attributed to the hangover bound to ruin his day. He made such a huge mistake downing all those shots last night. As the memories started flooding back he became aware of just how much of a fool he'd made of himself. In front of her, to make shit ten times worse. Just as he was beginning to wonder if his behavior caused her to leave, the door slowly opened and he watched her tiptoe inside, unaware of his inner turmoil.

Once her eyes landed on his sprawled out figure she realized he was finally awake. Had she been up for several hours, bored out of her mind but not wanting to wake him? Maybe. Did she sneak into the kitchen to make them both a cup of coffee when she finally got sick of laying motionless next to him? Perhaps.

"Morning, sunshine." She smirked at his response, an unamused grunt. He was definitely feeling the aftermath of those drinks. She felt kinda bad for him but it was his own fault he was in this state.

"What time is it?" His morning voice always got her tummy fluttering and today was no different. The ways in which this man drove her insane were unfathomable to her.

"Nine. I thought you'd sleep longer. The house is still dead." She made her way back to bed, giving him a generous view of her bare thighs as she shuffled in next to him. He barely noticed the coffee cup right in front of his face, too distracted by how soft and sexy her legs looked and how she still smelled so damn good even after a long night.

"Rafe..." her voice sounded half amused half exasperated, causing him to finally snap his attention back to her face and see the amused expression she bore. He blushed at being caught so blatantly ogling her, but he didn't try to play it off. There was no need to anyway, she knew just how attracted he was to her.

He took the cup with a small thank you, forcing himself into a somewhat upright position and downing half of it in one go. She scoffed out a laugh and rolled over to the bedside table to grab him a bottle of water she put there last night. Once she turned back she caught him staring at her ass, which had peeked out from under his shirt she was wearing. Raising her eyebrow at catching him, again, in under 2 minutes, he paid her back with a sheepish smile.

Those damn dimples always got to her. She was a sucker like that. He didn't need to know how quickly she got weak for him though, so she bit back her smile and decided to keep on a face of neutrality, knowing it drove him crazy when he couldn't tell what mood she was in.

"Are you hungry?" She casually posed the question while scrolling on her phone and he wished she'd just look at him instead. Pathetic. But hey, he was accepting it. She drove him insane every single day and he liked it.

"A little... The burger helped, though. Thanks." He gave her a cute smile almost causing her to break her act, but she perservered. He was just too fun to mess with, she couldn't help herself.

"You're welcome." She went back to her phone and he pouted. The throbbing in his head was making him more impatient than usual so he snapped and forced her into a bear hug, almost knocking the wind out of her.

"Rafe!" He laughed into her skin, enjoying the sound of her carefree giggle more than he thought possible.

"Get off!" Her words had no real bite to them, so he just pulled away slightly, just to look at her face.

"Thank you for taking care of me. And I'm sorry for getting drunk." He kissed her sweetly, almost making her lose her head completely. These moments of gentle affection always had both of their heads spiraling.

"You're lucky you're cute.." she sighed out a labourious breath and he laughed at the dramatics.

"I'm very lucky." He was looking at her with the most lovesick expression, she couldn't handle it. She had to break the moment before it broke her.

"Indeed. And quite desperate, based on all the begging you were doing last night." She was kinda mean for bringing that up. He was confused for all of 5 seconds before he realized what begging she was referring to. Once he did, his skin turned bright pink and the temperature of his body rose.

He had begged her to let him go down on her like a little bitch. Dear God, the embarrassment was about to eat him up, the blush not letting up for a moment.

She cracked a smile then, breaking the stoic act and he felt an immediate relief at that. He remembered what she'd told him - that he didn't need to be embarrassed about his desires. So he swallowed down his pride and awkwardness and decided to end this little game of hers. Instead of becoming sheepish he got serious.

"You still haven't told me how I can earn it." His words shook her. She was enjoying teasing him and then he flipped the switch. She could see the smirk begging to be let out at the corner of his lips, his eyes hungry and not hiding his arousal at all. She had a feeling that if she took the covers off he'd be packing a hard-on again. He was playing with fire.

"You really want to earn it?" Her eyes shifted and her domme voice returned. His skin was buzzing with excitement, hoping to finally get something out of her.

"Yes, ma'am." He smiled and she could feel her composure slipping away.

"Just wanna make you feel good." His voice dropped an octave and she could feel the dampness in her panties, the temperature in the room heating up.

"I feel good when I make you feel good, baby." Teasing, teasing, teasing. He knew she was playing him again. He swallowed, mouth feeling dry at the way she was looking at him.

"I want to taste you so bad." There it was. The honest response. She didn't want him pretending he was only interested in it for her benefit and now he was finally being truthful.

"Yeah?" She got on top of him, lips inches apart. His breath becoming her own as she stared deep into his eyes, testing his limits.

"Yes....please..." she kissed him then. A kiss so heated it could probably warm up an entire room. Little whines left his throat as she bit down on his lip, feeling his erection pressing into her ass. He was so gone.

"Please." It was a whisper, she barely heard it but she had. And boy did it have her losing her damn mind. The desperation he exhibited for her drove her wild. She had to pull away in order for both of them to catch their breaths again. God, was he testing her.

"I love the way you beg, baby." She whispered into his ear, leaving soft, wet kisses on his neck, causing him to groan... it was such a delicious torture.

"Fuck..." his whines got louder when she bit into that spot where his neck and shoulder meet, eyes rolling back. She was everything.

She had a whole scene in her mind then, clear as day. Trying to think of all the logistics was proving difficult when she was so damn turned on, causing her to pull away. He whined at the loss of contact, nearly shedding a tear. She'd built him up so high he didn't think he could survive her rejection now.

She took the water bottle and took a huge gulp, his lust filled eyes tracing her features, trying to figure out how to stop her from pulling away from him further. He thought he'd definitely cry if she did, too turned on to function. She tried getting up off of him, causing him to whine and wrap his hands around her, refusing to let her go. She nearly laughed seeing the desperation on his face, the sheer need to keep her there.

"Baby. Let go." He reluctantly loosened his grip, looking at her with big, sad eyes nearly breaking her heart.

"It's okay, sweet boy." She kissed his cheek and then shocked him by squirting water on his face. He gasped, looking at her in bewilderment. She couldn't help but laugh then.

"What..?" The confusion on his face made her laugh harder. She needed to cool them both down and this was the first thing she could think of. She can't have this conversation if she isn't thinking clearly.

"I'm sorry, I just needed you to snap out of it. Sorry, baby." She wiped the remaining water off his face. She kissed him again and pushed herself further away from him, so she can think.

"What the hell?" He was mumbling, still half in shock making her feel a bit guilty.

"Look if you're serious then we need to talk. I can't think when we're..." she drifted off then, causing him to realize what happened. She was having trouble controlling herself just as he was, so she did a silly thing to help herself think. He felt endeared, realizing that the moment had affected her just as strongly as it did him.

"Okay. Talk." He was nodding, sitting up, facing her, trying to ignore the painful boner she left him with.

"You want to be a good boy?" How was he supposed to stay calm when she says shit like that to him? Damn.

"Yes." He struggled to stay still, not to draw nearer, to feel her skin against him again. It was so hard.

"Remember when you said you were open to anal play?" Her words shook him to his core. She could see the shock in his eyes before he had a chance to mask it.

"Ye-yeah. I remember..." he wasn't sure where this was going anymore.

"Are you still? Or did you just say that cause you thought it's what I wanted to hear?" He was shaking his head before she even finished the question.

"No. I- I meant it. I want to try." She smiled at him then, a soft look on her face the polar opposite of how she looked just minutes ago.

"Yeah?" He nodded, urging her to believe him. He had no idea what she was planning but he wanted nothing more than to do whatever she wanted. Even if he was nervous.

"I want to be your good boy." His words nearly had her eyes roll back but she managed to control herself. He was so fucking hot when he gave himself to her completely.

"Okay. Well, we need to prepare, we can't do it now-"

"Why not?" The whine was louder and brattier than he intended causing her to cock a brow at him.

"Well for one I don't have lube here, and-"

"I do!" This took her by surprise. But he interrupted her twice now and that was not acceptable.

"Okay, that's good. But if you interrupt me one more time we're not having any sex at all in the forseeable future." Her voice was authoritative, making him feel embarrassed at how childish he was acting.

"I'm sorry." He looked it too, so she accepted it with a nod.

"Okay. Well, we still can't do it here. I'd like us to shower first and have privacy." She was listing things, looking so cute while she rationalized their sex life. It would have been comical if it weren't driving him insane.

He knew she didn't want to shower in his house, having offered her the option before and being met with a horrified look and a respectful decline. She claimed she liked his friends but she didn't trust their hygiene in the slightest, causing him to laugh and agree with her. He loved her shower though. He got to use her pretty smelling shampoo and he always felt extra clean and sated after showering at her apartment.

"Then lets go to your place." It was a no brainer to him. She thought of all the possible issues but given that her plans for his first time trying anal play were small, she figured it would be fine without all the usual prep. They'd build up to that eventually.

"Okay." He lit up like a christmas tree.

"Really?" She chuckled at his newfound enthusiasm.

"Yes, really. But if you change your mind at any point you need to tell me, okay?" He was nodding along quickly but she didn't forget the initial apprehension on his face and she'd be damned if she let him do something he isn't into to try and please her. Not on her watch.

They got dressed and packed up their stuff pretty quickly, the excitement in the air palpable. Some people finally started to wake up just as they were leaving the house, catching a few "screw you's" for running off before the clean up from last night began. They didn't care, too wrapped up in each other and the anticipation of what's to come to be bothered.

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

They picked up some sandwiches on the way back to her apartment, at her insistence. He was way too excited for what she had planned to think about food, but his stomach thanked her all the same when his hunger was sated.

They didn't waste any time taking their clothes off and getting in the shower. It was such a wonderful moment between them, soft and loving, he way they washed each other from all the sweat and grime from the night before. She handled him more delicately than anyone ever had in his life, and he always felt so damn safe and taken care of when she touched him like that. As the shower drew to an end, they shared some lingering, warm kisses, igniting the fire from earlier all over again in a slow burning flame.

Anticipation was killing him, driving him wild with every second that passed of them drying off and getting ready in her room. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't nervous, but it was nothing compared to how excited he felt. The trust he had in her was so complete, he knew he was always safe with her to explore these kinks without danger or judgement. He knew she'd never force him to do anything he wasn't willing to do, and that opened up the door for him to get braver and more comfortable with trying new things.

They were on her bed, still naked from the shower, not feeling any need to prolong the inevitable. She kissed him slow and deep, tongues meeting in a teasing dance, driving them both wild. The little sounds he let out were going straight to her core. She was so excited about this, she had a feeling he'd love the sensation of having his ass played with and it made her proud that he was trusting her in this sensitive moment.

"Tell me the colors again." She ordered, kissing his neck, winding him up further. She always insisted he reminds himself of the colors, so there was no chance of a miscommunication in the heat of the moment.

"Green, yellow, red. I know the drill." He quickly listed the colors, exasperated and so turned on he could barely breathe.

"Don't get sassy." She warned, still kissing his skin, over his collar bones and shoulders. She loved to kiss the freckles on his body, finding them so damn beautiful.

He was struggling to breathe, forcing deep breaths into his lungs, while she worked him over, touching and kissing everywhere. His skin was flushed, muscles taut with restraint. It felt so good, her touch, he wondered how he didn't melt right into a puddle every time her skin was on his.

She kept exploring him with her fingerips and lips, nibbling on a nipple, lightly scratching down his abs, amping him up, every nerve ending so sensitive. His cock was hard as a rock and she couldn't help but smirk at his twitching, trying so hard to be good and not do anything she didn't tell him to.

She completely ignored his erection, instead focusing on massaging his balls causing moans to leave his lips. She loved the sounds he made, could get high on them.

"That feel good, huh?" She teased, kissing his thighs while she slowly moved one hand lower, barely touching his sensitive hole. He gasped as soon as her fingers brushed him there, finally grasping just how close she was to opening him up in a whole new way.

She laid kisses on his skin as her fingers slowly massaged around his hole, causing him to groan at the teasing tempo. He needed more, she was driving him nuts.

She could tell he was getting antsy, face flushed and little, desperate whines leaving his swollen lips. She reached for the bottle of lube she'd prepared, cracking it open and squeezing a generous amount on her fingers. Rubbing her fingers to warm them up, she looked at him, holding his breath in preparation.

"What's your color, baby?" She spread his legs wide open for better access, leaving him completely exposed in front of her.

"Green." The answer was immediate, a deep longing in his voice. He kept his eyes on her, eager to see every movement she made.

"I'm gonna go slow, okay? Nothing crazy. I promise." He was nodding, impatient yet grateful for the reassurance.

"Okay. Just please do something." She smiled at his little whine and decided to put him out of his mysery.

Her fingers finally made contact with the sensitive skin around his hole, massaging slowly, warming him up, making sure to put a decent amount of lube on his entrance. The massage felt so good he couldn't imagine how it could get better.

She kissed his tummy as she slowly eased the tip of her finger into his tight hole, causing a desperate gasp to leave him. She kept a watchful eye on his face, paying attention to every expression, every breath, twitch and sound that left him. She kissed his skin as she kept massaging and lightly slipping her finger into him deeper, going slowly not to overwhelm him. She was so damn turned on at how good he was being, proud of how brave he was to let her have him like this and eager to make him see stars.

Once she'd slowly eased a finger about half way, she checked in.

"How does it feel, baby?" She rubbed his thighs in a soothing motion which calmed his mind.

"Weird. But kinda good?" It was his first time ever having anything in his ass and the sensation was strange but at the same time he wanted more. He needed to know how good it could feel, because he knew she wouldn't do this if it wasn't going to make him feel great.

"You're doing so good for me, sweet boy." He whined at the praise, blushing profusely at the intimate situation.

"Still green?" He nodded quickly making her chuckle and continue her ministrations.

"Fuck..." he moaned as her finger went deeper, touching that sensitive spot inside him, causing his mind to go completely blank as she kept going. She started moving in and out slowly, grazing that magic spot with each thrust. The way he was responding was so fucking beautiful. He was letting out sounds she hadn't heard before, the brand new pleasure making him delirious.

"You're so tight around my finger, baby." The dirty talk had him whining in desperation, wanting more, wanting her to take him however she liked. This was so different to anything he'd experienced before and he really fucking liked it.

"Taking me so good." She kept talking him thought it as she gained speed, lightly curling her finger each time she grazed that spot, having him curling his toes in pleasure, gasps and moans leaving him without his knowledge. He was so wrapped up in how nice it felt he couldn't think of anything else but her finger, her touch, her voice overwhelming his senses.

"More." He whined out the most deperate little moan she'd ever heard in her life, her panties getting soaked seeing him like this.

"More?" She questioned, picking up the pace as his moans got louder, his head nodding, words escaping him.

She wasn't expecting to do more than one finger for the first time but the way he was reacting, taking it so well, so eager, begging for more? Yeah, she was losing her fucking mind. It was the hottest thing she'd ever witnessed.

"Think you can take another finger, baby boy?" His response an immediate, moaned out "yes, please". She could see his eyes getting teary and she didn't waste another moment before squirting more lube on him and easing another finger into his tight hole.

He was a mess of moans, grunts, whines, pleas and tears as she stretched him out, giving him a new level of pleasure as both fingers pumped into him. It was heaven. He couldn't believe he'd waited this long to do this. Though he couldn't imagine ever doing this with anyone else. She was it for him, he knew it. She blew his mind every fucking time they had sex, she introduced him to highs he never even imagined.

Fuck, it felt so good to have her on top of him, fucking him with her fingers, claiming him as hers. He was getting closer and closer, cock twitching on his stomach, leaking precum, red and throbbing without even being touched. It was insane.

"You look so beatiful, baby. Taking me so well. I'm so proud of you." His tears flowed freely at her words, overwhelmed at the pleasure and praise she was giving him. It was fucking perfect.

"I'm cl- so close." She could barely make out his words from the choked moan they escaped in.

"Yeah? You wanna cum, baby?" He was trashing under her now, losing all semblance of control as she worked him to his peak.

"Please..." his whines making her pussy throb with arousal, she picked up the pace, eager to see him fall apart for her.

"Be a good boy and cum for me." As she said those words she finally gripped his cock, squeezing him as he fell off the edge and into the most intense orgasm he'd ever had.

She got high off his desperate noises, the way he twitched as he orgasmed, clenching around her fingers, cock pulsing in her hand as his cum painted his stomach. It was so fucking beautiful, she couldn't look away even if she tried.

"Look at you. So pretty." She kissed his skin as the last of his aftershocks wore off. Her words were driving him insane, after everything that just happened, being flustered at a compliment seemed surreal but there he was.

It was the most intense experience of his life. And he couldn't be more grateful that he had her to guide him through it. He felt so sensitive and thoroughly wiped out, but in the best way possible.

"How you feeling, baby?" She posed the question as she gently cleaned up the mess he made all over his stomach using a tissue. He looked flushed and sated and she couldn't be more ecstatic about what just occured.

"Good." He let out a chuckle, meeting her gaze, melting at the way she was looking at him. So fondly, he couldn't cope.

"You did so good, angel. I'm so proud of you." Her words had him shook, the praise and approval making his insides feel like mush. If his skin wasn't already red from the intense scene he'd just been through, the blush would have been fierce.

"Thank you..." his soft whisper made the butterflies reappear in her tummy. He looked so fucking beautiful she couldn't handle it.

She made her way up his body, leaving soft kisses all over his skin, warming him up with each one. She kissed his face next, the salty remnant of the tears he'd shed from pleasure being washed away with soft pecks. It was so tender and sweet he almost cried all over again.

When her lips met his, he felt as though his heart just might burst at how full and happy he was. He had never felt this happy in his whole fucking life. How did he get so lucky?

"Holy shit, baby. That was the sexiest thing I've ever seen." He giggled at her words, making the smile on her face seem permanent. So fucking cute she couldn't handle it, leading her to smother his face in kisses, causing those giggles to come out again. She was in trouble.

"Alright, baby. Gonna go clean up, be right back." She laid a final peck on his lips before making her way to the bathroom. He felt cold as soon as her touch left him and he wondered how the hell he could miss someone who's only a room away.

She took her time washing her hands, making sure they were clean enough to touch him again. She wanted to run her fingers over his face and it killed her that she had to refrain. She knew he was feeling exhausted but she had one more thing in mind before they could relax. She was excited and hoped he had enough energy to handle it.

When she made her way back to the room she found him sleepily looking at her. He had a cute little smile on and her heart skipped a beat. She climbed back on top of him, warming him up all over again, making him release a relieved sigh. He wondered how healthy it was for him to need to be with her all the time, but he didn't have it in him to care too much. Her touch, her comfort, her care was addicting and he wouldn't want to change it for the world.

She kissed him softly, drawing out a satisfied moan from him as their tongues met. She cupped his face as she kissed him, taking his breath away once again. He slowly reached up to hold her closer, feeling relief he wasn't used to, once they were skin to skin.

"You were such a good boy for me." She kissed the corner of his mouth, leaving him to struggle with responding at how good it felt and how much he loved when she called him that.

"You up for more, baby?" The kisses travelled over his neck and his heart started racing once he processed her words.

"More? I don't know if I can..." he was all whiny and shy, not wanting to disappoint her but not feeling ready for another intense experience. He thought he was done.

"No?" She kissed under his ear making his eyes roll to the back of his head. She was driving him insane.

"You don't want your reward?" He gasped as she lightly bit into his shoulder, feeling like he'd float away any second. But then he realized what she'd said.

"What? You- Wh-" he was trying to force her to look at him, pulling her face gently up to meet her eyes as he stumbled over his words.

"Reward?" He was looking at her with wide eyes, confusion on his face obvious. She simply sat up and cocked a brow, waiting for him to figure it out. It took a minute for his brain to catch up with him but once it did he thought he'd lost it.

"You- Are you serious?" He was practically begging her to say yes with the way he was looking at her. Like if she said no, his heart would shatter.

"Mhm. If you think you can handle it." She shrugged and had to hold back a laugh when he started furiously nodding his head.

"Yes! I can. Please. Green. Yes, please. Please please please..." he was blushing at his desperation but couldn't hold it back. The though of finally getting to taste her was making every nerve in his body buzz in excitement. He was on the precipice of heaven and he couldn't handle rejection now.

"You sure? You weren't too excited earlier..." his stomach dropped at her words.

"No! I mean, yes! I am so sure, please. I just thought you meant more... of what happened earlier." He was blushing profusely as he tried to get her to understand he was serious about being able to handle eating her out.

The way he was acting all shy and sheepish and desperate was really tugging at her heartstrings.

"You mean when you came around my fingers?" His blush got fiercer as he shyly nodded. He hated how much she loved to tease him when he's so wound up. But the smile on her face in that moment almost made up for it.

"I don't know, it seemed like you were enjoying it..." She kept teasing him, running her fingers over his stomach causing him to squirm with the light tickles. She was playing with him and he knew it.

"You know I was. I just can't do more of that right now... But I can make you feel good. Please?" He was trying to hard not to let his frustration seep through in his words. He needed to stay on her good side if he wanted a chance to finally taste her tonight. But the eagerness which he felt was making him extra antsy, itching for a chance to have her in this new way.

"Since you asked so nicely and you took my fingers so well..." The blush on his face had no chance of leaving when she kept talking like that.

"I'm gonna ride your face. You okay with that, baby?" He was practically shaking with excitement, nodding his head an eager yes.

"Yes, please..." his whine had her tummy stirring again and the wetness from earlier returned.

Rafe thought he would pass out as he watched her straddling his chest, being so close to her heat he could almost smell it. He couldn't wait anymore, all his fantasies were coming alive in that moment. He thought he'd never craved anything more than to have her on his tongue. He knew once he tasted her he'd be addicted and he didn't care. He was so fucking close.

"If you want to stop or talk or anything, tap my thigh. Okay?" He was struggling to find words when he could see how pretty her pussy was up close and she was playing with his hair just right. A harsh tug broke his daze as he looked up at her and finally answered.

"Yes. Please sit on my face." She almost laughed at his eagerness but refrained, taking in the adorable little pout he had on his face.

"Okay, baby." She positioned herself above him and he felt like he'd explode in the few seconds it took for her to lower herself on his face. And then she was and it was paradise. He couldn't imagine anything in existence could ever be better than this moment.

Her scent, her taste, it was so fucking addicting right off the bat. He wasted no time exploring her with his mouth, savouring the new position he was lucky to end up in. His hands made home on her ass, feeling the plump skin, massaging it as his tongue licked at her warmth. He wasn't even aware of the noises he was making as he ate her, too consumed in her pussy and bringing her pleasure to hear the moans and groans leaving him. However, she could not only hear him, but feel the vibrations on her skin, making the pleasure of his whines that much stronger. It felt amazing. He was so good with his mouth, she had no doubt he would be but it was a whole other thing actually experiencing it firsthand.

She started to slowly grind on him and his moans only got louder, his movements more eager. He fucking loved this, loved having her ride his face. He could cum just from this, he'd swear. His cock was already fully hard again but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered but the woman on top of him, chasing her pleasure, using him - while he devoured his favorite meal of all time. He'd never enjoy the taste of anything more than her. He was a goner.

Her grinds got more intense, pressing her clit on his nose just right, causing his brain to go haywire at the way she was using him. His cock was twitching on his stomach at how hot this was. Moans finally left her lips and it was the most glorious of sounds. He squeezed her ass, wishing he could stay like this for an eternity.

He slipped his tongue inside her cunt and nearly wept when he felt her walls clench around the muscle. It was dirty and heavenly all at once. She reached back to tease his nipples, urging him on. He slurped and sucked on her clit, making sure to cherish every little moan and breath and clench she let out. It was the most erotic thing he'd ever witnessed. He wished he could see the look on her face when she came.

She was close, surprising herself at how quickly he managed to get her there. She buried her hand into his hair, riding his face just a little harder, chasing her high. She had never been this vocal in bed. He always brought out new experiences for her as well.

"I'm close, baby." He groaned into her pussy, hands urging her to go faster, to reach her orgasm. It only took a few more grinds of her hips for her to let go.

Then it was her juices, her taste and smell and sounds overwhelming all his senses. He lapped up every drop greedily, not wanting this moment to end. Her thighs closed around his head for a second but it was enough to have him almost reaching the end himself. He wouldn't do that though. Not again. Not without permission. This was about her. And God, was she incredible.

As the last of her shakes left her, she quickly pulled off of him, lowering herself down on his chest, eagerly checking on him. Her hands met his cheeks, his skin wet from her release and a big cheeky smile on his face when she met his eyes. He was so fucking high off of her coming in his mouth. The sexiest thing he'd ever experienced in his life.

"Thank you." Those were the first words that left him after he brought her to one of the most intense orgasms of her life. She wanted to curse at how pretty he looked all fucked out. The cheeky grin and the sparkling eyes driving her insane.

She hadn't let many people eat her out before, always focusing more on their pleasure, finding the act a bit too intimate for her liking. But damn if it didn't feel right with him. She could feel herself getting all soft and mushy inside, hoping he can't tell just how fucking smitten she was with him. She kissed him to hide her burning cheeks from his view, distracting them both, tasting herself on his tongue, swallowing up his moans, making them hers.

"If you're gonna reward me like that every time, I'm happy to do anal stuff any day now." She laughed at his words, running her fingers over his face gently, taking in the lovely moment of peace and contentment.

"You're telling me if I didn't let you eat me out, you wouldn't want me to fuck your ass?" He blushed at her words, letting her know just how much they affected him.

"No. I'd want it anyway." He was being honest and vulnerable, just like they talked about and it was doing funny things to her head.

"Thought so." She pretended to be serious for a moment but then let her guard down when she kissed all over his face again. His laugh made butterflies soar in her tummy. Fuck, if she didn't love that sound.

"I'm really glad you enjoyed it." She knew he had been apprehensive about trying anal play and she was honoured he trusted her enough to explore it with her for the first time.

"It was the best orgasm of my life." She chuckled and he looked at her so fondly she couldn't handle it.

"Nothing compared to how amazing it was having you ride my face, though." His cheeky smirk was back but she could hear the truth in his voice. He really did love eating her out. And she figured she'd let him to it more often since it was just so much fucking fun.

"You're a cheeky bastard, you know that?" He nuzzled into her skin, enjoying the playful banter they always ended up back in.

"Mhm. You like me, though." He kissed her shoulder, holding her that much closer, their naked bodies tangled together in the most wonderful mess of limbs.

"Sadly, I do. A frat guy, no less." He snorted a cute laugh and she couldn't help but laugh too.

"Luckiest frat guy in the world." His voice was so soft and he looked at her so fondly her breath caught in her throat.

He unhinged her. Every time she thought she finally stood on solid ground he went and said something sweet like that, honest like that, and shook her world to the ground again. The feelings that were bubbling inside her were way too serious and way to soon for her to entertain. So she did what she always did and shut him up with another kiss.

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Taglist: if anyone wants to be tagged in future work let me know; @torturedtypewritersdept @kinkyrafe @mentallynot-here @wishing-i-was-rafes-princess @clinelyn @magnificantmermaid @mannstarkey @harringtonstudios @totallynotkaibiased @popcrone818 @fangirlwithlou @rafesxgold @malfoytargaryen @theyluvmesblog @withbeautyandrage @sierrahhh @harrys-humble-housewife @piceous21 @ditzyballerina @xoxo3m1ly @jessmaybank @whore-4-drewstarkey @palmwinemami @dustbunniess @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @starkowswife @ietss @beansprout713 @starkeysbebe @miahxelizabeth

[darqx]

Tbh ever since BTD this is nothing new to me now lol! Before then I'd always be like, pikachu face, because it was so surprising to me.

🤔 It's one of those things where if i hear the right voice then I'll know lol (this is also partly the reason why I made one of my characters mute, so i wouldnt have to think about it |D)

Thank you! I've been drawing ever since i was kid, but it only became more of an actual hobby when i was a teenager. So yes, you could say it's been a long time haha.

I do actually! From a few years back. Well, they're just a bunch of screenshots i put together but the result is the same lol.

Why are you guys so kaypoh about my friendship statuses, ngl that's kinda weird lol. Anyway EP disappeared like a thousand years ago and every now and then me and Gato dm. As noted before, everyone has been off doing their own things for a while now :d

Oh man that was a long time ago, but yes we did once have tentative ideas for an OC fighting game! XD It would have required a lot more programming know how then what we had at the time though (also the slow death of Flash didnt help, as that's what I used to make all my mini games in).

Aust, one, and hm, savory stuff i guess things like pastas/noodles and potato products (mm mash). Oh and soup. I fucking love soup lol.

^ Actual image of me drinking soup

[This ask was in relation to a post i did where i was trying out Sketchbook app on the ipad]. Haha yeh i've been told that Ibis might have a lot of ads, which for how often I use the ipad to draw (hardly ever, as intuos5 still my beloved) is dealbreaker for me when compared to Sketchbook |D So at this point in time something simple just for doodling is working out well :)

Guys cmon half the fandom/the entire fandom does not seriously call me that XD