#but it simultaneously feels like the wildest dream

[rexferg]

if you even like taylor swift a little and ever get the opportunity to see her live, do it. the eras tour was easily the best night of my life. going to live vicariously through my photos and videos of last night for the next 8000 years lol

[pathologicalreid]

cocoon | s.r.

in which your life is put in danger during an otherwise routine case, and you haven't even told Spencer about the baby

margotober masterlist

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: case violence, withholding information, miscarriage, pathologicalreid's first open-ended angst, fighting, alzheimers, schizophrenia, reader didn't necessarily want kids, mentions hospitals word count: 1.82k a/n: do i even dare tag this as the spencer reid dilf agenda? anyways: don't like? don't read!

Your hands were cold. They shake as you turn the key to your apartment, pushing the heavy door open and letting yourself trudge through. You hold the door for Spencer to come in, carrying both of your go bags after he had refused to let you carry your own.

Using the wall for support, you kick your shoes off, pushing them with your toes until they’re in their designated spot. Your eyes follow Spencer as he makes his way to your shared bedroom. You watch while he stares at the go bags he set on the dresser, seemingly deciding that he’s not willing to spare the energy that unpacking will take before returning to you in the living room.

Sometimes, coming back from cases, everything in the apartment felt welcoming, but now it all seems foreign to you. Home never feels quite right when you’re in the middle of a fight. “Couch or bed,” Spencer says, passing behind you but leaving nothing behind. There’s no tentative touch to your waist or kiss on your head, just the rush of air that follows his movements.

You hum absentmindedly, turning your head to follow his movements into the kitchen, rifling through the refrigerator, looking for something that had been lost to the back with time.

“Bed rest,” he reminds you, refusing to spare you a glance as his head stays in the refrigerator. “Couch or bed,” he repeats, maintaining a clipped tone.

Silently, your lips close to form a small ‘o’, the recognition flickering in your brain as you step around the couch and sit down on the couch. Staring out your sliding door, you watch the sun while it rises in the sky, light pouring through every window of the apartment. You find yourself wanting to shut the blinds and close yourself into the apartment, using the walls as a cocoon to protect yourself.

Trembling fingers pull the cuffs of your sweatshirt over your hands, simultaneously trying to keep yourself warm and put distance between your body and the rest of the world. You tuck your feet underneath you, leaning into the cushions behind you as Spencer finally reveals himself, standing on the opposite end of the coffee table with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“How long are you going to be mad at me?” You ask him, your voice gravely from lack of use, the two of you having barely spoken over the last day.

The look he gives you is incredulous, “I don’t know, how long did you know you were pregnant without telling me?”

His eyes are darker than usual, the grief of the last twenty-four hours overshadowing the gold that usually rims his pupils. You avert your eyes to hide the tears that are pricking your eyes, avoiding his gaze and avoiding his question.

Two weeks. You had known you were pregnant for two weeks before yesterday. There hadn’t been a plan for how you wanted to tell him, but it certainly wouldn’t have been gasping it out after being tackled by an UnSub.

You weren’t in the line of danger, staying with the local police, Spencer, and JJ while the rest of the team cleared through a warehouse. No one suspected an inside job until it became glaringly obvious, with you being the target of the local officer’s rage when something inside him snapped.

Never in your wildest dreams have you ever imagined telling Spencer you’re pregnant with a gun to your head, but that’s exactly what you did.

The confession had startled the officer enough to give JJ a clear shot, and Spencer managed to catch you before you hit the ground in a puddle of tears and apologies.

He knows the answer to his question, but a small, vindictive piece of him wants to punish you with reminders of your mistake. You should’ve told him. It was too late to fix it now.

Wiping underneath your eyes with your sleeves, you watch in your periphery as he drags a chair across the floor, the worn feet scraping on the hardwood. “Here,” he says, holding out a small bottle with an orange cap. He shakes the sports drink in his hand, “You need the electrolytes.”

Your eyes narrow as you reach out and accept the drink, noticing how he’s already broken the seal for you when you hold the bottle close to your chest, “Thank you,” you breathe, emotion constricting your lungs, the bruise on your ribs further straining your breathing.

“Are you hungry?” He asks, and you look up at him. Something solemn and unspoken clouds the darkness in his eyes, and you wish he would just tell you what he’s thinking.

 Uncertain, you shake your head. You’ve been nauseous all day, Gatorade was going to be a struggle—you didn’t need to know how getting food down would go. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, an ineffective repetition of an apology you know he won’t accept.

His expression doesn’t falter, “I’m sure you are.”

Your breathing hitches at his apathy, hugging yourself as tightly as you can without causing yourself any pain. “Go away,” the plea that escapes your mouth is weak, your tone as miserable as you feel, “I don’t need your punishment right now.”

“I’ll sit here until you explain why you didn’t tell me you were pregnant until it was between that or a bullet in your brain,” he vows, leaning back in his chair.

Holding back a reaction to his callousness, you avert your eyes again, instead looking at the care packet that the hospital sent you home with. Spencer wasn’t being hostile out of anger—he was doing this out of fear. “Don’t you think having a miscarriage will be punishment enough?”

For at least a moment, your question renders him speechless. “We don’t know that you’re going to miscarry,” he tries to assuage your concern.

You stare at him blankly, unable to form a coherent response to his attempt at reassurance. You thought you had been on the same side, but his consoling shows you a new perspective. While you had been starting the process of mourning your baby, Spencer was still holding onto the hope that your pregnancy would stick.

“We don’t,” he echoes, grabbing the packet off the coffee table and flipping to your care history. “Your HCG was almost 150,000 this morning, that’s really good. Fetal heart rate was 172, which is right on track for ten weeks,” he points to the percentile charts that the hospital provided for you.

Swallowing thickly, you unscrew the cap of your drink and take a small, calculated sip. The look that you previously hadn’t been able to name in his eyes was desperation, each breath a silent plea for you to not give up. “You want this baby,” you observe, studying the look in his eyes, a sorrowful gleam glossing over his brown irises.

Your comment throws him off balance, “I’ve always been unambiguous in my stance on having kids.” He stands up from the chair and starts pacing around the living room as if he’s expelling nervous energy.

“No, you haven’t,” you tell him, keeping your voice level and trying to stay calm.

Spencer’s footsteps faltered, “Okay, fine. Tell me when I somehow gave you the idea that I don’t want a family.”

Accepting his challenge, you lean your head back on the cushions, tracing the lines of the ceiling with your eyes. “When your mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and we were long-distance while you stayed with her in Vegas, we used to sit on the phone into all hours of the night and you would go on tangents. I mean… these animated rants about the genetic lottery and how the last thing you’d want to do is have a child just for them to inherit your problems.” Emotion burns your throat, but you keep speaking, “You told me you’d feel helpless having a child with your genes knowing that by the time they’re old enough to have a schizophrenic break, you won’t remember who they are.”

He's completely silent, his breathing so level that it doesn’t make a sound. Spencer was just standing in his reality.

“Then,” you take a deep breath, “After Cat.”

“Stop,” he says immediately, the word hoarse and miserable.

You press your lips together, “No,” you respond simply. “You told me you’d never be able to have a child without considering what might have happened had she been telling you the truth. I was fine with that, Spencer. I never wanted kids the way you did, the fervent way you used to talk about having a baby and being the father that you never had, it completely went away, and I was fine with that.”

You watch him push the heels of his hands into his eyes, halting his tears before they can fall.

“I could’ve been perfectly happy with the rest of our lives if it did turn out to just be us, until that little blue plus sign popped up,” you lament. “I tried,” you cry, unable to stop the tears that run down your face, “I stayed out of dangerous situations. I haven't drawn my gun since I found out. I asked Tara to go into that building because I thought I’d be safer outside with you, and I’m afraid to say it but… I don’t think anything would have changed even if you knew beforehand.”

Spencer drops his arms, kneeling in front of the couch as he gathers your hands in his and brings them to his mouth, whispering your name like a prayer. “I want this baby,” he confirms your earlier observation.

Your shoulders slouch in a mixture of disappointment and exhaustion, “Spence, I do too, but it’s not— the bleeding…” you blubber.

He shakes his head, “The bleeding resolved in the hospital,” he reminds you.

Peering down at him, you can’t help but wonder when he became so optimistic in the face of terrible things.

“Promise me,” he begs, “Promise me you’ll do the bed rest and listen to all of the doctor’s orders until we get to go to the obstetrician’s office on Monday.”

Tentatively, you nod at him, “You’ll come with me?” You hiccup a sob, unrelenting tears falling to the front of your sweatshirt.

He nods back, lifting himself so that he’s sitting next to you on the couch, pulling you into him, resting your head on his chest. “I’m not going anywhere,” he sniffles, carefully putting his arms around you, returning warmth to your body.

“Please don’t be mad at me,” you whisper, your voice unbelievably small as you gather the fabric of his cardigan in your fists.

He drops a gentle kiss to the side of your head—the only part of you he could reach without letting you go, which he wasn’t about to do. “I’m not,” he assures you, “I’m not.”

[loveharlow]

SEVEN [THE INBETWEEN] - KISS IT BETTER

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[2.5k] Three weeks of no John B or Sarah and you're officially overwhelmed with grief and mixed signals, leading to an emotional outburst directed at certain blonde.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mentions of death, mutual pining, grief avoidance, little fluff, mentions of low self-esteem/negative self-image, mentions of past non-con

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ I think this chapter is actually so soft and beautiful🥺 and I never really say this but I do think listening to the song on repeat as you read makes it one hundred times better.

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

THIS DAY MARKED THREE WEEKS SINCE YOU’D LOST JOHN B AND SARAH…And one week since JJ kissed you out of nowhere. Co-existing in your other presumed dead best friend’s house has been…odd, to say the least. You didn’t really know how to talk to JJ now, which was something you never thought would be an issue.

He’d been in the surf shack working on your car more than usual, without your company unfortunately. You’d been taking more small jobs just to get out of the house at this point. But barely talking to your best friend for an entire week while living in the same space was starting to take a toll on you.

And so was the kiss.

Did he mean to do it? Was it a spur of the moment thing? Did JJ have feelings for you? Ten thousand thoughts running around in your mind at once, driving you closer and closer to the edge of crazy. Your heart was telling you that the kiss was no accident — that it seemed too passionate and eager to be something he’d done in the heat of the moment. But your head was telling you that the kiss was an act of grief — something he’d done in a moment where his head wasn’t exactly screwed on straight.

That it was an honest mistake.

You didn’t know which part of you that you believed.

Or which part of you that you wanted to believe.

It was nightfall when you walked up the steps of The Chateau, bag slung lazily over your shoulder as you huffed out a puff of air, exhausted from your nearly ten hour long babysitting gig. Some couple needed someone to watch over their three kids while they went on a date. You should’ve known something was off when the mother was offering fifty dollars an hour, way over minimum wage — her three kids were more like a pint-sized trio of bats from hell. But you walked away with five-hundred more dollars in your pocket, so who were you to complain?

But even with fatigue and hunger weighing heavy on your bones, your heart still dropped at the thought of seeing JJ at the end of the day.

Sighing, you quietly opened the door of the home, throwing your bag on the sofa and letting the door close behind you as Marley immediately came charging, light paws feeling like punches on your thighs but you smiled nonetheless.

“Hi, pretty girl. How are you?” You cooed, scratching behind both of her ears as she wiggled against you.

Another set of footsteps rounded the corner, a freshly awoken JJ coming into your view. You coughed awkwardly under your breath, straightening out as the two of you locked eyes. “Oh, hey. I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“Nah, it’s fine. I’m just glad you made it in before it got too late, one of the corner stores got robbed a couple hours ago.” He said, voice raspy and low from sleep as he rubbed the exhaustion out of his eyes.

The two of you stood there awkwardly— JJ scratching the back of his head as you averted your eyes anywhere else, Marley’s panting filling the silence.

You took a deep breath, shoving your hands in the back of your pockets as JJ mindlessly nibbled on his lower lip. You took the opportunity to break the silence, the blonde seemingly having the same idea.

“Well, I’m gonna get ready for bed-”

“Look, I’m sorry-”

You both stopped talking, attempting to allow the other to speak. Small smiles broke out on your faces, the two of you looking down at your feet simultaneously. “This is awkward, if I’ve ever seen it…” JJ huffed out humorously. “Can we just…like, sit down and talk, for a minute?” He asked, his own words making him cringe slightly as he motioned towards the battered sofa.

You nodded, not saying a word as you plopped down on the piece of furniture, eyes on the floor as your hands held each other in your lap. JJ sat down oddly slow next to you. You expected him to try and create as much distance between the two of you as possible but surprisingly, he sat so close that your shoulders were brushing in the tiniest of ways.

The unexpectedness of it all had your brows furrowing, finding some kind of courage to look the boy in his eyes as he finally settled on the right words to say.

“...I shouldn’t have kissed you.” For some reason, the string of words made your heart tremble and your lips parted in surprise. They hurt more than you ever expected them to. Noticing your solemn expression, JJ was quick to clean up his statement, turning in his seat to look at you completely. “Not in the sense that I didn’t want to, no, God no.” He sputtered, hands moving around wildly. “It’s just that, with everything going on, I don't think that moment was the best moment to act on my feelings-”

He was cut off when you lurched forward, colliding your lips with his in the heat of the moment. In your haste and his surprise, the blonde accidentally bit your lip but you didn’t mind, never breaking the exchange. After a moment, you both seemed to settle into it — one of his hands sliding around your hip and waist to find a home on the end of your back, pulling you closer in the smallest motion. Your own hands cradled his jaw on each side, pulling him deeper into you.

You kissed that boy until you couldn’t anymore. Until your lips were swollen and wet, your head spinning as you pulled back and let your hands fall, sliding down the length of his neck and shoulders while his own hand slid back to rest on your thigh.

“...What was that for?” He asked in a whisper. He sounded breathless.

You simply gulped, tucking a small strand of hair behind your ear before speaking. “...When you kissed me, I felt something. Something I didn’t think I should feel while kissing my best friend. Because I never thought I’d be kissing my best friend at all.” You explained, elevating your gaze to meet his eyes. “And I thought to myself that I should feel repulsed. That the kiss should feel wrong. Right? But nothing about that kiss felt wrong.” You told him. “I haven’t been avoiding you because of the kiss, JJ. I’ve been avoiding you because I haven’t been able to get the thought of kissing you again out of my head since it happened.”

“And now that you have?” He asked, eyes searching yours. “Now, that you have kissed me again?”

“...I’m struggling not to do it a third time.” You breathed out, eyes fleeting towards his lips for the slightest of moments. “I don’t know what this is. In my head, you’re my absolute best friend and I love you in that aspect but everytime I see you now, I can’t help but think about you in ways that I shouldn’t. So, if that kiss or this one didn’t mean anything to you, you’d better tell me now because-”

“Oh, it meant something.” He cut you off enthusiastically, a small smirk playing on his lips. “I know you probably have no idea but that kiss meant everything to me.” He told you, edging closer on the sofa. “I’ve had this huge crush on you for, like, ever. Probably since I even knew what a crush was. But you know how I am…” He lowered his voice, avoiding your eyes. “I didn’t trust myself with you. Anytime I look at you, I see this ball of light around you and I never want it to go away. Or be the reason for it going away. With me and all my shit…”

“I don’t think of you like that.” You said honestly, a small frown on your face. “You aren’t some southside screw up or a charity case. JJ, you know that I don’t care about all that. I’m always there to walk through it with you, your life doesn’t define you, you know that. Or at least, you should.” You told the blonde, running a soft hand through his hair. “And I know that it may take some time for you to believe that for yourself but I’ll be the one to tell you it everyday until you actually hear it, as a friend or…whatever else.”

You reminded the boy, biting your lower lip in thought. “...That’s why you never said anything? Because you thought you weren’t good for me?”

He seemed to ponder on the statement before nodding, somewhat shamefully. “I mean, c'mon, look at you.” He scoffed, wide blue eyes looking at your face with so much adoration and purity that you never cared to notice before. “Someone like you doesn’t need to waste her life away trying to love someone like me.”

“I do love you-”

“Not in the way that I love you.” He blurted, pinching his eyes shut as he cut you off.

“...I could. But you’ll never know if you don’t let me try.” You told him. “I won’t sit here and tell you that I love you in that way because I really don’t know. But whatever I’m starting to feel for you is beyond a friendship and once I figure that out, who knows? But I also don’t want you to wait on me to figure things out if that’s not what you want.” You concluded, retreating your hands back to the comfort of your lap.

You don’t know how helpless you looked, but you made no attempt to hide the frown that you could feel on your face. You knew JJ was known as promiscuous but his ways seemed to have settled with everything that’s happened. Although the thought of him with anyone made your gut turn, you didn’t want to confine him within the cage of your emotional contemplation. You didn’t want to lead him on now knowing how he felt about you.

“Hey,” He started, a hand on your arm. “I will wait. And that’s my choice. If you decide that you want me, that you want this, then I will be here. I know my past actions are probably making my words seem like a load of shit right now, but weeks ago? When I was hooking up with half the island? I was under the impression that you and I would never happen. But now there’s a chance.” He spoke, laughing at the end of his sentence, the oddness of the action making your face twist. “Sorry, I just, I thought about somethin'.” He said, waving himself off. “I was talking to Bree one day, about you. I told him that the odds of you ever liking me back were one in a million. And he told me that a one in a million chance is still a chance, to which I told him that he was full of shit. But now…” He trailed off, shrugging.

“...John B knew?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. JJ rolled his eyes playfully.

“I think everyone knew, except you, of course.” He cocked an eyebrow, you being the one to roll your eyes this time. 

“...So what do we do now?” You asked, voice small.

JJ sighed, suddenly sitting up straighter in his seat and taking both of your hands in his own. “...As much as I want to make you my girlfriend, right here and right now, I don’t think it’s a good idea. I think that we both need time to grieve and sort ourselves and I also think that you need time to explore your feelings more and make sure that this isn’t a fluke.” That was the most mature sentence you'd ever heard leave JJ's lips.

“A fluke?” You asked, mildly offended. “What does that mean?”

“Just that, I’ve seen how you can deal with grief. And not to twist the knife…are you okay with me talking about the…Rafe thing?” You clenched your jaw at the mere mention of his name, nodding stiffly in JJ’s direction, the boy drawing his lips into a thin line before continuing. “When that happened, you were still grieving. You kissed him because you were in a bad place and he was there and he ended up...taking advantage of that vulnerable part of you, right?” You hummed in agreement. “I am not at all blaming you for what happened when I say this. You didn’t deserve it and that asshole should be six feet under for what he did and, God so help me, I will put him there myself-”

“JJ.” You interrupted the boy’s rant, wanting him to finish his point completely. Huffing out a puff of air, he continued.

“I’m sorry. I just, I really hate that that happened to you. And I know it happened to you, not me but I want to kill him. Every day that I wake up, I just hope he's dead somewhere.”

“I know. Trust me, I know.” You reassured.

“But all I’m trying to say is that, I don’t want to repeat that same cycle — taking advantage of your emotional state. I want you to be yourself again and be in the right space before trying to take this any further. And I want you to have no doubts and be completely sure.” You understood his point of view and his reasoning behind it. Nodding, you allowed him to finish his sentence. “So, for now? We can just figure things out, set some kinda boundaries, if you want.”

You thought about it for a moment, fingers drawing shapes on one of his hands. “...Just honesty. If you kiss someone, hook up with someone…” The words made your eyes twitch. “Just don’t let me find out from someone else.”

“Oh, I can promise you that I have no one else on my mind, especially now that I know I’m on yours, so there will be nothing to tell ‘n nothin’ to find out, m’lady.” He smiled, saluting towards you. “I’m all yours, even if you aren’t mine. Yet.” He winked.

It’d been weeks since you’d seen the goofy side of JJ. It was comforting. 

You giggled, bowing your head slightly. “I promise that I am solely focused on clarifying my feelings towards you and only you, blondie.” You returned the sentiment and the salute. “What about our friendship, though? Is it still a friendship?”

“Mmm….” He thought aloud, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Actually, you’re the smart one. What’s like a fancy, silly term for developing a relationship? Like getting to know each other but not dating, like the in between stage?”

“...We can say we’re in a courtship?” You suggest half-jokingly, shrugging. “But… does this also mean we have to stop kissing each other? 'Cause I kind of like that part.”

JJ faked offense, throwing a palm against his chest and gasping. “Kissing?” He asked, wide eyed and shocked. “We are pogues. And number one rule of pogues, is no pogue-on-pogue macking…Eugh.” He reprimanded playfully, fake gagging. You slapped his shoulder in response, a smile on your face as one grew on his.

“No pogue-on-pogue macking, huh?” You said, playfully swatting his arms as he did yours. “

“That’s exactly right, little miss lips-a-lot - Ow! Did you just pinch my nipple?” He laugh-shouted, holding his chest as your swatting ceased. “What are you? Six?-”

You took the opportunity with JJ's guard down to grab the nape of his neck and pull his face into yours, giving him one last hard, passionate kiss of the night, slightly biting his lip as you drew your face away from his.

“How’s that for no pogue-on-pogue macking?”

next chapter>

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©loveharlow.

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Sedated

Adam x Reader

TW: Pervy Adam, Guardian Angels, Reader unknowingly being watched, Self-touch, masturbation, Desires, obsession, clumsy ass reader

How we ended up here was beyond either of our wildest dreams. Adam had fallen from grace, desperate to prove his worth and reclaim his place in heaven. The added bonus of watching over you—a strikingly mundane mortal—was just a silver lining to his celestial punishment. For you, however, life felt like an endless loop of monotony, each day blending into the next in a haze of dull routines. 

In the mortal realm, chaos reigned, and you secretly blamed Lucifer for the mess. But today wasn’t about the cosmic battles of good and evil; it was about dragging yourself through another tedious nine-to-five, chained to the soul-sucking machinery of corporate America. After work, you’d immerse yourself in true crime documentaries, the only thrill in your otherwise drab existence, before collapsing into bed to muster the energy for another day.

Adam’s fall from grace had been ironic—a small, devilish woman had orchestrated his demise. Yet, the prospect of redemption as your guardian angel offered him a flicker of hope. He had vowed to keep you safe, ensuring that you remained blissfully unaware of the unseen chaos swirling around you. 

Yet you were no spark of entertainment; your life was a tedious boring cycle. You worked, ate, and binge-watched TV shows like every other soul on the planet. But beneath the surface, you harbored a darker side, a flicker of rebellion that emerged during your worst days. Perhaps that was why Adam had been assigned to you—there was little danger in your life, just a series of mundane tasks punctuated by occasional enjoyable nights.

On this particular day, fate had conspired against you. You had slept through your work alarm, and slept blissfully unaware of the fire alarm also blaring in your apartment complex. Adam, in a state of panic, had done everything possible to intervene without alerting anyone else. With a gentle but firm push, he nudged you out of bed, waking you in a daze. 

Draped in a sheer silk nightgown and a fluffy robe, you rushed downstairs, only to find the fire marshal casually informing you that it was just a tripped wire. As you and Adam exchanged simultaneous facepalms, he couldn’t help but marvel at your ability to sleep through the chaos—and his own lack of foresight in checking the building.

Once back in your apartment, the reality of your tardiness dawned on you. Groaning, you scrambled to get dressed. In Adam’s misguided attempt to help, he had placed your shoes near the door, leading you to trip and smack your head against the wall. With a growing bruise on your forehead and a now-lost security deposit, you bolted out the door.

The day continued its downward spiral. Your coffee was scalding hot, burning your tongue. A passing truck sent a wave of mud splattering across your clothes. The elevator in your office building was out of order, forcing you to climb nineteen flights of stairs in heels, your patience wearing thinner with each step.

Meanwhile, Adam was feeling the strain, too. He had never seen you in such a chaotic state, and while he had been tasked with keeping you safe, his interventions seemed to lead you into misfortune. When Jacob, your overly friendly coworker, got too close, you found yourself tumbling into Sarah’s lap, laughter erupting around you, the workplace gossip already brewing.

The copy machine malfunctioned, resulting in an ink explosion that painted you from head to toe. And when you attempted to sneak into the men’s bathroom—desperate for some privacy due to the womens bathroom being out of order—you ended up trapped as every male coworker seemed to have an urgent need. 

By the time you returned home, you needed a serious reset. A long shower and some quality "me time" were in order. As you prepared a quick meal, doom-scrolling through your phone, you felt the weight of the day begin to lift. After a quick tidy-up, you retreated to your room, pulling out your feel-good essentials.

Adam, watching from his hidden vantage point, felt a thrill of anticipation. He knew what was coming. As you slipped into the shower, an ethereal glow enveloped you, and he settled into the cozy corner of your room, entranced by the thought of what was soon to come. 

You emerged from the bathroom, a vision of perfection, your hair cascading around your shoulders. Adam’s breath hitched as you moved with an alluring grace, pulling out your toys with an enticing casualness that sent his heart racing. 

The moment you climbed into bed, he felt a primal urge wash over him. As you began to explore your own body, he mirrored your movements, his hand working in tandem with yours against his own body. Each sigh and moan that escaped your lips tugged at his very soul, igniting a deep yearning within him.

Taking his weeping cock in hand he sighed as he watched you lean back and run your hand across your body. He began soft slow strokes keeping in time with your touches and caresses.

As your hand dipped over your chest and down your stomach, feeling yourself, his breath hitched. He almost whined at the thought of burying his head in your heat. How sweet you must taste with how much of you was soaking your precious folds.

One hand of yours spread your folds open, displaying your pretty pink hole, while the other rubbed your pert nipples. He was in awe at how every time you did this, it was like he was watching you the first time. Like he was a child learning what sex really was. How could one person look so damn good doing something so sinful?

He sped up his pace on his cock as he watched your pretty fingers dive in. Oh, how he knew his length could reach places far deeper than those pretty little fingers. You struggled to attempt to touch where you needed relief, where he knew in a few languid strokes he could have you seeing stars.

As you moaned and panted, Adam could only imagine if it was him making those sounds come from you. If you were begging for him and whining out his name so softly. Gripping on his thick arms, bouncing with his pace, eyes crossed and overwhelmed.

He watched as minutes passed by, your fingers abused your tight hole and sensitive bud. He was eager to watch the next part unfold. As you turned on your toy, he watched your hole clench around nothing. A deep groan left him as he imagined that tight clench around his large length.

As you slowly rubbed the toy along yourself, making it nice and wet, he licked his lips, his red tip pulsing with the need for more than his hand. He wished for you to come over and blow him till your throat was sore or even just let him abuse your cunt. He desired nothing more than to not be a figment in your life but a passionate lover as he made you realize who you really belonged to.

However, as the toy slid in and you let out the softest more whorish moan, he was a goner. He was pounding his cock, whispering your name under his breath, hoping that maybe this would connect you two better. He was pussy whipped, and he hadn't even had the chance to physically take you yet.

If you could fuck yourself so good like this, you were definitely worth the first man's dick. He watched as the toy was slowly sucked into your greedy hole, and he was jerking into his hand. He wanted to keep up with your pace and learn exactly how you liked it; however, the languid bounce of your tits and heightened moans only made him lose control as he stroked his length harder.

You looked and sounded so beautiful, so amazingly hot and gorgeous. He wanted to be the one making you beg like this, not some silicone toy. However, as you built yourself up to climax, he also began to see white as he spilled over his large hand. A low groan of your name was barely heard by you.

Adam's thick white cum was covering his hand and robes as he looked at your pretty legs shake from your orgasm. He was whipped, to say the least, at this point. He stood resituating himself, what he would give for you to use that mouth to clean him up slowly.

At first, this may have started with him wanting to become an angel again, but now his goal is to get you to heaven with him so he can really show you a good time and let his name fall from your pretty lips. All he knew now, as time passed, was that he wouldn't be Sedated till he finally had you in his arms.

[mizuski-pirat]

Ok. You know how I said probably no worded posts until new year? Yeah well fuck that. Ramble time.

I saw a post earlier about cc!Missa and therefore his character having a fear of the sky (like being afraid of falling into infinite space or having celestial bodies falling on him etc. a very bad/angsty fear to have but that's besides the point. Ground dungeon skelly man afraid of the exposed open [don't have a link to post sorry -_-]) I honestly have no idea how accurate that is but I have not stopped fucking thinking about it since.

And then I saw this post based on HC Phil and I just. I need to explode real fast. (https://www.tumblr.com/crepusculum-rattus/675364500235567104/who-keeps-trinkets-of-old-memories-along-his)

Phil gets why Missa would be afraid of the sky. It's very understandable honestly, the sky's infinite and distant nature is almost terrifying at times. Sometimes, when he still had his wings, he flew and flew until he couldn't see the ground anymore and the air was so thin it got hard to breathe. Surrounded by infinite and blue like that, too high up for even the clouds, it felt like the sky was swallowing him whole. Like there was nothing in the world but you, the horizon, and your adrenaline keeping you from feeling the cold in your fingertips. Phil loved it.

Unlike Missa, he lives for that feeling of being so tiny compared to the immense expanse of something so much bigger than himself. For being so far from anything recognizable. So far above it all. When surrounded by such complete nothing in every direction, even despite (or maybe because of) the distance from the ground, there was nothing that made him feel more free. Without the presence of ceilings or gravity to restrain him and keep him down. Some days, he almost didn't feel alive if he didn't brush oblivion. (Queue that clip of o!Phil void surfing) He lives to feel the wind in his wings, ruffling through his feathers like cold, gentle, caressing hands, that turn aggressive and tearing when he goes fast enough to feel his skin being pulled against his body, and nothing feels better.

In his deepest, wildest, dreams he lives in a world with deities powerful enough to rival the sky and the celestial bodies Missa fears so much. They shape the very world he lives in and paint Phil as a simple ant in comparison. And he loves it (even if they simultaneously scare the shit out of him. Then again that is the whole point of this post).

Phil is, as Rose correctly stated, a "Child of the sky". He exists to be far above the world, against the void. On the border of utter nothing. He is both the opposite and the compliment of Missa. He is the sky to his ground. The light to his dark. The complete open to Missa's enclosed caves (and petting zoos). Phil isn't afraid of the things large enough to be incomprehensible. But he might get better than anyone else why Missa would be.

So if Missa ever finds himself swallowed by an unforgiving sky, then he has Phil to swoop in to save him on angels wings as vast as the void itself

Is this anything?

[the-troll-book-of-mormon]

@davekatweek day 1: plush!

in which dave does not want anything remotely puppet-like to watch the proceedings

(+ my rushed attempt at dialogue below)

DAVE: hey karkat sorry to totally crush your wildest selfcest dreams here but do you think maybe we could put that cool guy away before we go any further here

KARKAT: WHAT?

DAVE: your squishy dude over there with the sideways mohawk

DAVE: lil kat

KARKAT: ARE YOU REFERRING TO MY CUSHION EFFIGY?

DAVE: ok theres absolutely no way thats actually the troll word for plushies but ill let it slide without completely derailing the conversation this time

DAVE: yes that guy

DAVE: could we maybe do this without him watching

DAVE: idk something about the way hes been staring at me with those big yellow depression eyes is just killin my vibe

KARKAT: WOW DAVE, REALLY GLAD THAT AFTER ALL THIS TIME YOU FINALLY FOUND IT WITHIN THE ECHOING CAVERNS OF YOUR HOLLOW PUMP BISCUIT TO TELL ME THAT MY "DEPRESSION EYES" ALLEGEDLY "KILL YOUR VIBE".

KARKAT: ANY OTHER COMPLAINTS YOU WANT TO GET OFF YOUR NUB WHILE YOU'RE ALREADY SCUTTLING YOUR EFFRONTERY GASH?

DAVE: dude what

DAVE: thats totally different

DAVE: i love your depression eyes you know i love your depression eyes

KARKAT: I DON'T KNOW, DAVE, IS THIS A THING THAT I KNOW?

KARKAT: YOU DON'T THINK THERE COULD BE ANYTHING CONFUSING ABOUT THE FACT THAT YOU ARE CLAIMING TO "LOVE" AN ANATOMICAL FEATURE OF MINE THAT YOU SIMULTANEOUSLY FIND SO DISGUSTING THAT YOU CAN'T POSSIBLY BRING YOURSELF TO ENGAGE IN CONCUPISCENT ACTIVITIES IN ITS PRESENCE?

KARKAT: ONCE AGAIN I AM COMPLETELY MYSTIFIED BY THE BOUNDLESS GENIUS OF YOUR ATROPHYING SPONGE. HOW COULD I EVER HOPE TO KEEP UP?

DAVE: holy shit dude i cannot believe this is actually something youre stuck on

DAVE: this is a real unfortunate time to be getting into this but maybe its because your depression eyes are attached to the real life body of my sexy as fuck boyfriend and i can look at them and not get the weird fucking heebie jeebies about being watched or secretly filmed

KARKAT: OH.

DAVE: i mean look hes cute and all and on the one hand its genuinely hilarious that in a way were fulfilling plush karkats voyeuristic fantasies that he inherited from you

KARKAT: HEY!

DAVE: but on the other its kinda jarring that every time i glance up and see his weird little fabric face im getting flashbanged by my kid selfs fucked up programming and for a split second its like im seeing something completely different

DAVE: so yeah nothing wrong with his depression eyes specifically its just that theyre eyes and theyre not real and somehow that makes it way more real

DAVE: like maybe someone somehow snuck a webcam in there just now when i wasnt looking

DAVE: which doesnt actually make sense because first of all why

DAVE: and second of all im always keeping my eye out for that sort of thing anyway so i would definitely notice before we got this far

DAVE: but all this dumb shit just makes it kinda hard to focus on the actual depression bedroom eyes right in front of my face

DAVE: not to mention the rest of this effigy im tryin to get my ganderbulbs and prongs all over

KARKAT: OKAY I GET IT, STOP TRYING TO DISTRACT ME FROM THE FEELINGS JAM BY APPROPRIATING TROLL VERNACULAR.

KARKAT: I'LL PUT HIM IN THE OTHER ROOM.

...

i had more of the scene i could write, but it was getting long and im already late for day 1! maybe one day i'll actually write out a scene and post it on ao3

[miguelswifey04]

Threesome with Miguel and punk Miguel from another universe???

omg yes 🤭🤭

miguel o’hara x fem! reader x punk! miguel o’hara

cw// threesome, oral sex, vaginal sex (p in v), sharing is caring LOL, nsfw 18+, smut; no plot

a portal materializes beside the bed, swirling with vibrant colors and crackling with energy. out steps another version of miguel, one adorned in a punk-inspired outfit, his eyes filled with mischief. “ well, well," the punk miguel remarks, a cheeky grin playing on his lips. "looks like i stumbled into the perfect party. mind if i join in?" your eyes widen in surprise and excitement. never in your wildest dreams had you imagined a scenario like this. two versions of miguel, both oozing sex appeal and raw energy, standing before you, ready to take you to new heights of pleasure.

without a word, you exchange a knowing glance with the original miguel, understanding that this unexpected encounter will be a wild, unforgettable experience. you lean in, your lips capturing his in a passionate kiss, while the punk miguel approaches from behind. soon, your lips are met with a second set, the sensation lingering between the realms of familiar and excitingly new. as miguel and punk miguel take turns exploring your mouth, their hands roam eagerly over your body, igniting a frenzy of desire within you.

your body is pulled in every direction, engulfed in a whirlwind of sensations. the original miguel’s hands caress your curves, his touch firm and confident, while the punk miguel’s fingers delve into your hair, tugging playfully. with a moment of silent communication, they guide you to lie on the bed, both offering their impressive lengths for your pleasure. you’re caught in a flurry of tongues and lips, simultaneously tasting the distinct flavors of the two miguel’s. they each command their own unique presence, but together, they create a symphony of desire that envelopes you fully. , the punk miguel lavishes attention on your breasts and neck, his hands exploring every inch of your body.

as one miguel takes you in his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue around your throbbing bud, the other positions himself between your legs, gradually pushing inside you, filling you inch by delicious inch. the twin sensations ignite a whirlwind of pleasure that overwhelms your senses. moans and gasps fill the room as the intensity rises, the combined thrusts and strokes causing waves of pleasure to ripple through your body. each miguel brings his own style to the experience - one dominant and commanding, the other teasing and playful - creating a harmonious symphony of ecstasy.

the room is filled with the symphony of bodies moving and colliding, the sounds of passion, and the scent of raw, uninhibited desire. the pleasure builds, intensifying with every touch, every thrust, until you're enveloped in an explosive climax that leaves you trembling and completely spent. as the waves of pleasure gradually recede, you find yourself lying there, draped in the aftermath of this extraordinary encounter. the two miguels, still panting and deeply satisfied, share a knowing look, their admiration for one another shining through.

with a mischievous smile, they turn to you, their eyes shining with a mixture of mischief and affection. “so," the punk miguel purrs, "ready for round two?" you feel a renewed surge of desire ignite within you, knowing there's still so much more pleasure to be explored with these two intense and captivating versions of miguel. with a sultry grin of your own, you eagerly accept their invitation, ready to embark on another wild, unforgettable journey together.

tags 🏷️!! @kairiscorner @emiemiemiii @astro1bloom @obi-mom-kenobi @meeom @sabcandoit

[talshiargirlfriend]

After over two months,✨vibes✨ have at last returned! Following on from this instalment. The next morning…

Trip woke to early morning light shining on his face. He hoped the fact that T’Pol was already out of bed meant she’d recovered from her inadvertent intoxication. He didn’t relish the thought of a hungover Vulcan, although she had been an undeniably cute drunk, even teasing him with that quip about not getting tired of his face. He smiled a little as he blinked and sat up.

Had Trip been harbouring any secret hopes of waking up cuddled against his Vulcan pseudo-sweetie they would have been dashed, but of course he knew better. He hadn’t even let himself consider what it might be like to wake up with his arms around her, to feel her warm solid weight pressed against him and her soft hair tickling his chin. Nope. Thoughts like that would only get him into trouble.

Vulcans didn’t have a monopoly on denial of feelings. Humans had been practising the same for centuries.

He could hear the quiet hum of voices filtering up the stairs as he crossed the hall to the bathroom. There was Lizzie’s cheerful soprano accompanied by T’Pol’s more subdued alto.

When Trip had agreed to this plan he honestly thought it might be difficult to convince people he and T’Pol were together. Never in his wildest dreams would he have guessed it would be so easy that even his own heart would be fooled.

And if his heart thought he was in love with her… he carefully avoided following that thought through to its logical conclusion.

As he made his way down the stairs he could pick out the conversation.

“… you know the one I mean?” That was Lizzie.

“I do. ‘I am pleased to see that we have differences. May we together become greater than the sum of both of us.’ It is in this spirit that our project was founded.” And T’Pol.

“Yes! And you and Trip are like a personal example of that, the way you complement each other.”

“Our differing perspectives have proved beneficial in our work together. Trip says,” T’Pol paused before continuing in clear imitation of his accent, “‘we make a hell of a team.’”

Trip scoffed. He did not sound like that.

Lizzie laughed, loud and sharp, “That sounded just like him!”

“You and your brother have the same laugh. It is a pleasing sound.” T’Pol met his eye as he stepped into the kitchen.

He smiled. She appeared to be her steady self again.

“Oh Trip, it really must be love if she likes our laugh!” Lizzie giggled.

Trip shook his head at his sister as he squeezed her shoulder and then kissed the side of her head. “Morning, Lizard.”

“Good morning, Hazard.”

Abruptly he realised it might look strange if he didn’t greet T’Pol with similar affection, so he haltingly patted her shoulder and kissed her head, too. “Good morning, T’Pol.”

“You feeling better?” he asked in a whisper.

She didn’t smirk at him or anything, but it was almost like he could actually feel the amusement emanating from her.

“Good morning, Trip. I am well. Thank you.”

Completely unruffled. Well, if she was feeling well enough to revel in his awkwardness, maybe a little payback was in order. Trip decided to put his knowledge of Vulcan customs to use and held out the first two fingers of his right hand.

With a slight hint of surprise T’Pol matched his gesture and pressed her fingertips to his in an ozh’esta.

Her touch was soft and warm. Familiar. He smiled.

… And then she slowly drew her fingertips from the pads of his fingers down to their base. The sensation reverberated throughout his entire body like an electric shock.

It was incredible. It was kind of like she had wrapped his favourite blanket around his shoulders with a gentle squeeze, rubbed her cheek against his, and slid her hand up the inside of his thigh. Simultaneously. By only touching his fingers. He felt warm and content and loved, and honestly, a little turned on.

He knew Vulcans were sensitive to emotions, especially via physical touch, but could they…? Was she doing that on purpose?? Did it always feel like that? Suddenly he understood the appeal of the gesture to Vulcans if it made them feel that well and thoroughly kissed.

He stared at her dumbfounded and was absently pleased to notice she also appeared a bit thrown; the same indecipherable expression from the night before flashed across her face.

“Good morning,” he repeated distractedly before turning toward the coffee maker to compose himself.

“You know, you’re a grown man, Trip. If you want some quality time with your girl, you don’t have to sneak off like you did last night,” Lizzie piped up.

Oh my god.

Trip scrubbed a hand over his face before turning back toward the table. “Liz, it wasn’t like that! She didn’t feel well and —“

Lizzie laughed and waved her hand in dismissal. “T’Pol already explained about the sweets not agreeing with her, but you should see your face!”

She turned toward T’Pol, “See? I told you! Thirty years old and he still gets embarrassed at the mere mention of sex. Look how red his ears are! Isn’t it adorable?”

“It is rather endearing,” T’Pol agreed.

“There’s not enough coffee in this kitchen to deal with you two,” Trip grumbled.

Lizzie stuck her tongue out at him. “You’re such a crab in the morning. You’ll be pleased to know I have to leave in a minute to get ready. Aunt Maggie is doing my hair and makeup.”

“Where’s Mom and Dad? They’re usually up by now.”

“Out for a morning walk,” Lizzie said nonchalantly.

Trip narrowed his eyes. “And you wouldn’t have suggested that so you could corner T’Pol for a little sister chat, Miss Nosy?”

“You wound me, Big Brother!” Lizzie gasped, hands over her heart. She couldn’t hold back her grin for long. “T’Pol, I’m really glad we had a chance to talk this morning.”

“As am I — “

“Don’t you dare say ‘Ms Tucker’!”

“… Elizabeth,” T’Pol conceded.

“Huh. I didn’t think that would work!” Lizzie beamed. “All right, I’ll see you both in a few hours!”

Trip shook his head at his sister’s departing back and picked up his coffee mug.

“You want some breakfast?” he asked T’Pol.

“Elizabeth suggested there’s a special meal you prepare when you wish to impress someone,” she said, the very picture of wide-eyed Vulcan innocence.

Trip closed his eyes and leaned back against the counter. “Of course she did.”

“Ok, brown butter banana pecan pancakes it is!” He grabbed a mixing bowl from the cupboard and casually spoke over his shoulder, “Yes, it’s the same breakfast I made the day after the gala.”

She tilted her head, but before she could speak he mustered up all the swagger he could. “Honey, I’ve been trying to impress you since the minute you walked into the lab.”

T’Pol looked down into her teacup, hiding her face for a moment. When she looked back up at him she said, “Perhaps you will eventually be successful.” Her lips twitched slightly.

He laughed as he continued gathering ingredients. “Remind me again why I brought you with me.”

“You could not bear to be apart from me for two days,” she said drily.

He blinked and then recovered himself. “Yeah, yeah.” He gestured with the knife in his hand, muttering, “Next time, we’ll go see your family and I’ll tease you the whole time.”

As he began slicing a banana, he could barely hear her murmured “I’ll consider it.”

—

For @candiedsumire and @deadheaddaisy my most ardent enablers 💕

We’re approaching Speedwagon time (I can’t fight this feeling anymore… 🎶) and I really wanted to try a first kiss with a twist. What do you think?? Thank you for sticking with me 💜

[phoenixcatch7]

Remembering my first time playing oot as a kid and hearing about the heroes of legend, those who had used the master sword before. And because I wasn't part of the larger community, no internet etc, I didn't know I was supposed to think of the other zelda games.

My theory was that every zelda game took place simultaneously across an infinite sea of parallel worlds, and each link could reach out and witness the other adventures alongside their own. I thought of them as different facets of the same soul, which turned out to be true enough, I suppose XD.

But I also thought the master sword was too simple a name and design, too overarching to not, similarly, be a culmination of different aspects, referencing different swords from real world myth and legend.

I remember I believed past heroes referred to people like King Authur, like Odin, like Hercules and Theseus and Achillies, like legendary samurai and kings under hills and travelling swordsmen and ladies lost to time.

And now, this small child, this little backwater kid my age was going to take up that mantle, join the ranks of heroes unsung, perform great feats in forgotten temples and save the suffering kingdom, here and gone, to slip back to home and safety upon journey's end, the kid with a hero's story and a precious, gleeful secret. That was how a lot of stories go, when they're targeted at little kids. Save the fairy kingdom from the bad pixie and run back to your parents before they wonder too long where you've been.

The direction Nintendo ended up going with making a canon timeline and destroying the mystery of how it all began (tho SS is amazing) takes a lot of the fable, the secrecy, the hushed gleam in the eye of it. But I still love it. For older players, it's another turn of the cycle, the new and old mixing into something unrecognisable and yet so familiar.

For new players, for children, the creator truly captured that feeling of stepping into another world behind your own, shifting ivy aside with your dirt scuffed hand, the feeling of wonder welling up inside as you step into the sunbeams of a brand new horizon where everything they told you about magic is true. The feeling of becoming something greater than the sum of your parts, of hearing a thousand silent voices at your back, of meeting equal with the legend, of being good for the sake of it and being rewarded with making a thousand memories, a thousand experiences beyond your wildest dreams.

Of, at the end of it all, being rewarded with the privacy and peace you really wanted, not being forced to perform nice for rude adults and go on stage to accept your little trophies. Something to cradle in your heart and smile secretive smiles, to be true to yourself, to always have that little something extra, something adults will never notice but you know. You know, and you will never breathe a word of that beautiful, magical world, because it's just. For. You.

I suppose that's always why I've liked the epilogue of a zelda game, the Links all choosing to close the loop, to return the master sword and return to their peaceful lives. To fulfil your purpose. To become everything they said you'd be and more. To go home, and your enemies don't follow.

The adults doubt your magic, but you don't. Not anymore.

[thegreatyin]

26 27 30 36... Scoundrel and Scientist. Also gimme the cufflink saga already.

IM STILL PIECING THE SNIPPETS TOGETHER IM SORRY I KNOW IVE TAUNTED YALL WITH ALLUSIONS TO IT FOR AGES JDFHDHDJDK

26 - What would be their ideal romance? Did they find a perfect match already, is it still a work in progress, or have they experienced something out of their expectations?

The Scoundrel's ideal partner would probably be someone willing to put up with her... everything. Either because they don't care, or because they indulge her to her heart's content. Someone able to back up her wildest dreams (or even fulfill them) while still being there at the end of the day to kiss her head and tell her it's all going to turn out okay.

She thinks this someone is Wines. It is not Wines.

The Scientist's ideal partner... is a lot more broad, and also simultaneously a bit more narrow.

See, he's fine with just about anyone, theoretically. All he wants is someone he can live for, and work to protect. He doesn't even care if he gets the same in return. Ideally someone patient, and clever, and maybe a little bit terrifying- someone he can trust completely and utterly-

But he doesn't really care about any of that. He just wants someone he can get along with. Someone he can almost feel safe around. He doesn't care about anything else.

-

27 - What is their romance’s theme song?

The Hatsune Miku cover of Poison. And Butcher Vanity.

...oh, you meant general romance, not together. That's, admittedly trickier.

And by "trickier" I mean "I'm stumped". I have absolutely no idea. I've never thought about it before. Consider this an open invitation for y'all to come in and suggest romance songs, because I'm kind of at a loss rn

-

30 - What is their love language?

The Scoundrel gives gifts. A lot of gifts. If you've actually, sincerely, unironically, somehow, against every odd in the universe, thoroughly captivated them, you'd get absolutely smothered in more gifts than anyone could hope to count. Extravagant ones, too.

Like.

They're the kind of person who thinks a comically expensive romantic dinner at the most exclusive restaurant in the country is "modest". They're the kind of person who'd send you hourly updates on how their day is going because they think you genuinely unironically need to know this pressing information because you love them and they love you back. They're the kind of person who spends hours trying and failing to win a giant stuffed animal at a carnival because you said it looked cute and they want to impress and pamper you.

They're the kind of person who spends half of their fortune supplying Mr Wines' revels because they think they're getting such an insanely good grade in flirting and serving and being such a good sexy appealing lover for their stupid horrible drunken crush that won't even give them a second glance-

I mean. Uh. Ahem. Clears throat.

Gift-giving. They like gift-giving.

The Scientist on the other hand- he's pretty squarely split between acts of service and quality time. I don't compare him to a cat for nothing. He's either actively being "useful" to people, or he's sitting with them in silence for 2 hours straight while they do an unrelated task in the same general vicinity.

He considers the latter to be fantastic socializing.

-

36 - What would they gift to their partner or their best friends to show their affection?

See the Scoundrel's aforementioned answer about giant stuffed animals and supplying revels. But also flower bundles. And honey. And bundled flowers dipped in honey. They feel like the type to gift what they like because they're under the impression that their favorite things are universal favorite things.

As for the Scientist... he's admittedly not the best at sending gifts, but he certainly tries? His gifts are way more humble. Way more small. Like the results of an interesting experiment, or a cool puzzle he thought up, or a handmade scrapbook that's not exactly good insomuch as it is unbelievably sincere. Tiny nerdy trinkets that won't mean much to an onlooker, but end up being super soft and sentimental to those in the know.

Also, I could see him knitting a bunch of stuff. Little winter hats, scarves, gloves, the works. It's sweet. He's sweet.

[multiversed-daydreamer]

Shiver and Shake

Pairing: Joel Miller X ADHD!Reader

Summary: Life in the QZ is monotonous and harsh. When it all get to be to much you go to Joel.

Word Count: 3k

Tags: MDNI, PiV sex, oral (f receiving), Fingering, Degradation, Pet names (Dumb baby, baby.) Dom!Joel, Sub!Reader, Dom/sub dynamic

A/N: This is my first TLOU story! Shout out to @gab-thelamb-onthemoon for being my beta. thank you bby! <3 This was super fun to write, I hope yall like it! Please comment what you think! I'd love to hear opinions! :D Check out my Masterlist for more!

You shift under strong hands, looking down to watch broad palms slide over your stomach to your hips. He pauses to squeeze you, fingertips digging in just the right amount while his palms press you into the mattress. You push against him automatically, wriggling around just to feel his hands tighten around you in a warning. Joel’s eyes flash to yours. “Knock it off.” His voice is low but firm. You settle under him, and he keeps going, hands now traveling down your thighs, curling his hands around the backs of your knees to press your legs further apart, his eyes locked on your bare sex, which is glistening with your arousal. His intense stare leaves you blushing, pressing against his hands to close yourself off. You move your arms to reach for him, touch him, and distract him from your body momentarily. But the catch on the cloth around your wrists reminds you that you’re immobilized.  Joel raises an eyebrow, an amused smirk curling on his lips. “Told you to knock it off.” 

You’re unsure why his amusement pisses you off, but it does. Your eyes flash as you yank at your bindings. Joel laughs at you outright this time. “Not getting anywhere, dumb baby.” He taunts. You glare. You’re not sure why that’s the nickname he’s stuck with, but he’s been calling you it since the first night. He pushes your legs further apart as if to demonstrate that he held all of the power tonight. “Lay back and let me have you.” He murmurs, leaning down to nip at your thigh. 

You do your best to settle under him. It’s easier said than done, though. You can feel the goosebumps rising over your skin and the inevitable blush coloring your cheeks as he watches you with dark eyes. He’s still mouthing at your thighs, dragging his lips from one patch of skin to the next, kissing, licking, biting, sucking. He reaches the top of one thigh and goes back to give the other the same treatment. You eye the blossoming marks he's left behind, purple from hickies and red from his beard and teeth. You can feel the air chill in specific spots where his saliva hasn’t dried yet. You pull lightly at the bindings again and feel him suck a new mark into your skin. “Joel.” His name comes out tentatively, already knowing he will reprimand you for attempting to distract him again. Sure enough, he bites down hard on his next spot, making you tug against the bindings and try to close your legs to escape his teeth. “Ouch! Fuck!” 

Strong hands keep you open to him, pinned to the bed and exposed for Joel. It makes you even wetter for him. God, you hate to love this game. This fucked up desire to be pinned down and overpowered by someone else. The fact that you found a partner more than willing to give you just that simultaneously excites you beyond your wildest dreams and fucking terrifies you. What if it’s too much? What if he wants something more normal? What if he’s a fucking psychopath who won’t let you leave if you safeword? Joel’s never ignored your safeword the few times you’ve used it, but what if he-

Another sharp bite makes you yelp and writhe in your restraints. “Damn it, Joel!” Your eyes find his. “That fucking hurt!” 

“Good. Pay attention.” Then he’s moving to hover over your core, waiting until your eyes meet him before he ducks his head and drags his tongue against your clit. Your mouth drops open at the sight of him between your legs. His lips wrap around that swollen bundle of nerves, and he sucks on it until you whimper for him, your eyes blown wide as he captures every ounce of your attention. Joel smirks. You know that’s exactly what he wants—your undivided attention. 

“Atta girl.” He praises, dipping lower to trace the tip of his tongue at your entrance. You shudder above him as he digs in, his tongue going between your clit and your clenching hole to dip his tongue in, letting loose low groans as he tastes your arousal. Flames of pleasure lick at your body as he brings you higher and higher with his tongue, his hands keeping your legs wide open while he devours you. You whimper and moan out into the room, your mind slowly emptying of every thought except for the selfish need to cum. 

He has you pinned, so you can’t push against him, but you can beg, and you do. “Please, please, please. Joel, please let me cum. Wanna cum. So fucking close.” He watches you with dark, amused eyes. He loves watching to get this way, reduced to begging and pleading for him. Your head is empty, and your focus is on him. If his mouth weren’t busy, he’d likely be taunting you. Instead, he sucks on your clit again. Hard. You cry as your orgasm hits, pulling at the bindings and trying to close your legs to escape the blinding pleasure. It doesn’t work. Joel holds you open, lapping at your clit, no doubt enjoying your helpless moans and whimpers as you jerk and twitch the best you can through your orgasm. 

You tremble as he continues, not letting you have any reprieve as his tongue presses inside of you, fucking into you while his nose nudges your clit. He doesn’t pull away or let up, and you cry out under him, shifting to try to escape the oversensitivity. He wants another orgasm from you, and you squeal when he pulls up just enough to scrape his teeth over your clit. “God, Joel! Fuck!” He ignores you entirely and will continue to until he’s bored enough to move on or you’ve reached whatever goal he has set for you in his head. 

He never tells you his plans for you, refusing to tell you the few times you’ve asked. It frustrates you, the unknowing, the way you have to trust him to know what comes next and what you guys do that night. Again you find yourself almost infuriated with how experienced he seems with this type of dynamic. It makes you almost miss your previous partner simply because you had both been young, and he hadn’t been as good at taking control, far more hesitant in misstepping. 

Joel is not hesitant to misstep in the slightest. He seems to know exactly what he wants with you, and he isn’t afraid to poke, prod, and push until you either safeword or give in to him. It’s what you want, hell, what you need. But the fact that he executes it without hesitation leaves you wanting to fight him for the control that you beg him to take from you. He trusts you to safeword should you need to. 

You whine when his tongue swipes across your clit, your body jerking into the touch. He was building you up again, and it felt wonderful. Your hips try to grind into him, chasing that release he’s so desperate to bring you to. But he continues holding you to the bed, forcing you to accept your fate on his terms only. Slowly, the pleasure builds, your muscles relax into the bed sheets, and you close your eyes, hoping to heighten the feeling of his mouth against your core. Slick tongue gliding in and out of you before dragging up to flick at your clit before going back down to your entrance again and again and again. You don’t even notice when your pent-up whimpers turn to soft moans. But Joel does, and on his next stroke to your clit, he wraps his mouth around it and gives you an approving hum. You moan far louder than you mean to at the sensation. The waves of pleasure crest slow but sure over you, your second orgasm softer but lasting longer than the first.  This orgasm left you boneless, weak, and shaking on the bed and thankful for the soft mattress at your back. 

You come down from your high slowly, your body feeling like liquid as you look down to meet dark eyes. Joel slows his ministrations down some, but you still whine and twitch feebly under the rough drag of his tongue. He continues slowly torturing you until tears are pricking your eyes and the fight has left your body. Simply lying there for him to touch exactly as he pleases. Finally, Joel pulls off, propping himself against his elbow and watching your fucked out expression with a gleam in his eyes. Never a good sign. It means he’s still got more for you tonight, and your bones already feel too heavy to fight against your restraints. 

“There you go, head nice and empty now, huh? Dunno why you fight me on this. Look so pretty all fuck-dumb, baby.” He presses whiskery kisses up your thigh, and you whine for him. The scratch of his beard feels annoying and pleasurable at the same time. You have to agree with him, though. You have no clue why you fight him when it feels so good to be like this, pushed so far, you can’t give a fuck about anything but how good it feels for him to touch you in any way. You cry out when he leans up to bite at your hip, his teeth fucking hurt, but you can feel your pussy clenching around the air. 

You’re startled from your post-orgasmic haze when an alarm sounds outside, the robotic voice ringing over the speakers. Some FEDRA officers announced curfew, and those still outside must go home for the evening. You glance towards the window, the brief pull back reality enough to have your mind fighting the slippery hold of submission Joel had put you in. The feeling of a hand caressing down your thigh to your soaking core brings your focus back to Joel. You barely have time to register the feel of his fingers against you before two are pressing inside you and curling to rub against that magical spot that makes you sob under him. “Looks like I get to keep you here tonight. Tied up and unable to leave.” He smirks, letting his predatory gaze linger over your body like a goddamn weight. 

You stay with Joel most nights you two do this, but how he phrases it makes your chest tight with nerves. ‘I get to keep you’ and ‘unable to leave’ reminding you that he technically could if he wanted to. His reputation in the QZ is a firm reminder that Joel is scary as fuck most of the time. You still wonder why he does this with you, but every time you ask questions like “Why?” Joel typically spends the night making sure you’re so fucked out of your mind you can’t think straight, let alone string words together. 

You’re once again pulled out of your head. This time, the curl of his fingers inside of you accompanies the bite he leaves on your torso. “Stay with me,” came the low command. You look at him, glaring down at his wild hair. You'd pay him back if your hands were free by yanking on it. He pulls back to meet your gaze with a glare of his own. He raises an eyebrow and intentionally presses against your G-spot hard. You cry out, hips trying to grind into his hands as he sets a hard pace, two thick fingers rubbing relentlessly against that spot that makes you see stars while his thumb rubs at your clit until you’re being forced over the edge of your third orgasm. He grins at the sight. “That’s it. You’re gonna give me one more before I put my cock in you.” He says low. 

You shake your head and whimper. “I can’t, Joel. Please. Please fuck me.” He shakes his head and slaps your thigh. 

“Hush. You’re gonna do what I want you to do. If you tell me you can’t again, I’ll spank the attitude out of you, and then we’ll start all over again. Understood?” Without waiting for a response, he leans down and captures your sensitive clit between his lips, sucking and licking at it while his fingers continue their assault on the most sensitive spots inside of you. You scream and cry under him, overwhelmed tears falling down your temples to get lost in your hair. He loves hearing the noises you make for him, often taking it as a challenge when you attempt to stay silent. 

You don’t know how long it takes for your next orgasm to hit. It feels like hours. Your body was riding a blissful high so intense it almost hurt when you finally snapped. “JOEL!” You screamed for him as you came so hard you thought you might black out. No sound leaves your mouth. You simply tense up, and your back arches. You stay that way for the entirety of your climax, frozen and unable to process the pleasure as he coaxes you through it. Finally, his fingers let up, slowly guiding your body back down to the bed. You’re not aware of much; that last orgasm rendering you pliant and so out of your own head, you’re barely aware of Joel shifting off of the bed to remove his jeans and flannel. You trail your eyes over his body with a small, loopy smile. He was beautiful, broad, strong, and just overall big, including his thick erection bobbing between his legs and demanding your attention. You moan at the sight, and he chuckles. 

When he climbs back on the bed, he pinches your chin between his thumb and forefinger, leaning down to kiss you languidly. You moan, letting his tongue into your mouth and eagerly sucking off your own release. He settles between your legs, his hard cock pushing against your thigh. He pulls his mouth away for a moment to position himself better. He reaches down to hook one of your knees over his forearm, pulling it up to spread you open. His knee nudges your other leg, bracing himself so he can reach down and grab hold of his cock. He strokes it a couple of times before rubbing the head of it up and down your slit. “You’re so wet. I bet I could slip right inside, and it wouldn’t even hurt. Do you wanna find out?” He looks down at you, waiting for your answer this time around. 

You nod, whining, eager to feel how full he always makes you. He grins, raising an eyebrow at you, not moving yet. You whimper under him. “Please. Want cock, Joel.” You’re not sure how you managed that many words, but it seems enough for your dominant, who lines himself up at your entrance and pushes all the way inside in one smooth, steady thrust. You cry out from the intrusion. 

He groans over you, his hand coming up to tangle tightly in your hair, pulling your head back firmly into the pillow. He starts at a slow, rough pace, hips grinding into your pelvis every time he bottoms out. “Not even a single ounce of resistance.” He growls into your ear, moaning as he picks up his pace. “Came four times and you’re still begging for cock after you told me you can’t take anymore. Lying slut. You’re gonna lay there like a good little toy and let me use you. Got it?” 

“Yes, Sir.” You gasp out. You cry under him as he fucks into your sensitive pussy. He groans at that. 

“Finally, a correct fuckin’ response outta you tonight.” He snarls. The hand not in your hair curls around your hip, fingers digging into your flesh tight enough to bruise as his pace picks up to something brutal. You scream under him. The way his cock rubs against you makes your muscles tense up and twitch, partially to escape, partially to chase the forced pleasure. You can tell he’s getting close by the way he fucks into you with a wild sort of abandon, pursuing his own pleasure selfishly. 

You don’t know when you got so close to cumming again, but your orgasm is suddenly only seconds away from overtaking you when his hips start to stutter, and a punched-out groan leaves Joel. You whimper, wanting to be the one that cums first. “Please, let me cum, Sir. I’m so close. Please.” 

Joel makes a rough noise from his chest. “No. You’ve cum enough. S’my turn.” His moans go higher pitched, and you whine when you feel his cock twitch inside of you. He chases his pleasure single-mindedly, but it’s enough. You can’t help it. You swear to god you can’t help when your body tightens once more, bliss washing over your body. Joel lets out his own blissed-out noise before pulling out, interrupting your orgasm. You snarl at him, yanking at the bindings holding you down uselessly. You glare up at him. He watches you with dark eyes and a slack jaw as his hand untangles from your hair to grab his cock, fist moving furiously over the tip as he lets out a stuttered noise and then growls as ropes of cum paint your mound and stomach. He fucks his fist through his orgasm, and then he pulls back from you, moving to kneel back. He’s panting, and his other hand gently drops your leg, caressing your thigh. He reaches up and unties your wrists. You pull them down to your chest and rub at them. 

“Color.” He demands breathlessly. You blink up at him. 

“What?” There’s more?

“You disobeyed. I told you not to cum.” 

“It was ruined ‘cause you pulled out.” You snark at him. He folds over you, glaring down at you with a stern expression. 

“You think I give a shit?” He grabs your hair again, yanking it hard. You yelp at the feeling. “Color?”

“Yellow. I’m fine, but I need a break.” You pant out

He scoffs and shakes his head, letting go of you. “Dumb baby can’t do as she's told but needs a break after disobeying.” He glances at the clock on his wall. “One hour. Then I’m turning your ass bright red, dumb baby.”  

“Yes, Sir.” You whisper, already squirming at the thought of punishment.

[vole-mon-amour]

Cyberpunk 2077 is both cool and hilarious to me. Some Nobody, an ordinary kid (that would've died and their glory would've ended on a junkyard without even getting started) gets this ex rockerboy jacked into their brain, and suddenly you're friends with his exes:

THE best fixer of Night City/Queen of the Afterlife herself;

The current rockerboy Kerry Eurodyne with whom you can suddenly have a thing or two and maybe turn it into a short romantic relationship.

Back in 2013, Kerry could easily spend a night with a fan (or just a quickie after the gig, no need to get personal and close at all), but he wasn't as popular and as mature as he is in 2077. Plus, I doubt that a one night stand ever turned into something serious. Judging by the way he described his previous relationships, they were always so fucked up: he was either being constantly cheated on (??? who dared and why?) and eventually got mentally destroyed by his ex wife. No wonder it lead to such horrible depression and suicide rumours/attempt(s).

Then V enters the scene. Breaks into Kerry's house, gives Johnny the reins, and suddenly, the two are connected and can have something V wouldn't even have a CHANCE to have with Kerry. I'm pretty sure V wouldn't even know Kerry in person if it wasn't for Johnny, because Kerry is THAT popular & has tons of fans like V. Just a face in the crowd.

I mean, how many people dream being just a little bit close to Kerry? And when Kerry presents his new collab at a full club, Kerry suddenly pulls this unknown Nobody out of the crowd closer, introduces her as his right hand to the press, and then they leave together and spend some time alone on the roof/at his fav restaurant. Can you imagine how jealous some of those people might feel?

For a while, V becomes closer to Kerry in the real life than anyone could ever dream of. Fans? Like hell he'd let a fan or press that close to himself (and they would definitely NOT be welcome to enter his villa at any time of day and night).

And the more time passes, the more popular Kerry gets (so he goes from Very Popular to Incredibly Popular and Demanded and Wanted By Fans and Press.) The new album, new tour with his huge billboards around the city?

And where's V? Oh, V is either in a coma and basically forgotten by all her friends (including Kerry, and there's no going back to how it was before, it's completely ruined, and V can no longer help Kerry with his wildest deeds) or dead by that time. Isn't that nice. :)

Oh, the tragedy.

(Though I must notice that Vik and Misty are still have to see V. It's just still incredibly tragic & there's no fixing that in canon, either.)

(And that's partially why I still choose The Temperance ending. At least the body is being used and has a purpose. Can be reunited with Kerry, too, if there's such need/wish.)

P.S.: And it's not even about romance. It's literally about the one in a million chance that grants V everything she ever dreamed of and that simultaneously completely destroys her, no matter what she does. (And I talk about V as a female bc that's what I'm comfortable with the most. You do you.)

[chocosea]

Suite Precure Novel Prologue & Chapter 1 Summary

(This book is first person perspective from Hibiki.)

Prologue:

This summarizes the series' events and sets up an ominous tone for the upcoming chapters.

Hibiki wonders why she never noticed the deep sadness that was always right next to her. She now feels like she's being chased after by a quiet dark wave that's engulfing her. This part is cryptic and probably refers to events later in the novel, but she's basically in a dark place where there is no more sounds, which she simultaneously wants to stay in forever and leave immediately. She doesn't know what to do and doesn't believe she can fight heroically.

She never thought in her wildest dreams that she would ever feel this way.

Chapter 1 — As for Us Since Then...

Hibiki is in her third year of middle school and is going to graduate soon. After graduation, she's going to study abroad in Germany for music stuff. This is taking after her dad, since he studied there and also can speak German.

That said, she gets the sense that her dad's German is weird, much like his Japanese is weird due to his quirky personality. Hibiki has doubts that people will understand his weird German, but he's also the only person she can learn the language from so she's getting instruction from him anyway.

In terms of music lessons, Hibiki is getting piano lessons from both her dad and Ouji. Ouji sometimes teaches her 1-on-1, which she hasn't told Kanade yet because she knows Kanade would be jealous. Unlike her dad, Ouji actually explains what parts she gets wrong and gently encourages her by telling her that everything will turn out right. This has endeared him to her greatly to the point that she starts feeling her heart beat faster and her temperature rising sometimes when they're alone. In other words, Hibiki now also has a crush on Ouji-senpai. (Or at least it very much sounds like it considering lines in the next chapter.)

Ellen (Eren?) is trying to be a musician and writes her own songs that she plays around town. Hibiki notes her songs are a little sad but beautiful, a fact she hasn't told Ellen because she feels that Ellen might get carried away. Trio the Minor have also come to stay in Kanon Town and sing Ellen's back vocals sometimes. They've apparently ditched their funny outfits and made their hair normal (boo). They work at the biggest music store in town and want to debut with Ellen.

Pii-chan is living with Hibiki. Hummy is working as a songstress in Majorland and is staying there all the time.

Otokichi has been telling Hibiki, Ako, and Ellen that they all sound off when they play music (or in Ako's case, sing), lately. Probably because they're all off doing their own thing and their hearts aren't in harmony anymore.

Hibiki has to play a performance with Kanade at a farewell party before she leaves for abroad but Kanade hasn't been showing up to practice at all because she's so busy with baking, trying to get into a prestigious baking school.

Since Kanade wasn't showing up to practice, Hibiki went to go steal some of her food from her club. Though she was counting on Kanade noticing her and getting mad at her in their usual joke routine (it's evident here that Hibiki likes baiting her like this), Kanade was busy talking to a friend in the hallway. Kanade is very serious and really upset at Seika (who has graduated) and says something slightly mean about Seika's tarts (calling them far too mediocre) to the friend she's talking with. Seika apparently wouldn't praise Kanade's latest cake. This surprises Hibiki, both on the front the Seika would say something about the delicious cake she's in the middle of stealing & eating, and that Kanade would ever say something like that about a senpai she looked up to so much.

The friend noticed Hibiki and Hibiki was ready to hear Kanade's loud tsukkomi "HIBIKIIIII!!!" but instead Kanade is just quiet and is like, "Sorry. i'm busy today," and tries to return to baking.

Hibiki pulled Kanade into the hallway and told her she thinks it's really important for them to practice, and that she really wants to have a good performance with Kanade in their "last" moments before she goes off to Germany. Kanade said "last" was dramatic, and that she's sorry she forgot but she'll show up next time. She does a wink + puts her hands together, which Hibiki thinks she looks so cute that she relents.

Kanade tells her that a while ago a famous pastry baker came to visit and said she had talent. Hibiki wonders when that was and feels like Kanade is drifting from her, since before Hibiki would've been the first person Kanade would tell right after it happened.

Hibiki tries to invite Kanade to go to the ocean with Ako and Ellen and Kanade turns her down immediately because she's too busy. Kanade is thinking of setting up her own store instead of inheriting her dad's shop in the future too.

Hibiki feels like a kid who just had their favorite toy taken away. like she would just start bawling at Kanade being distant if she wasn't older.

Afterwards, Hibiki goes on an aimless walk and ends up in front of the clock tower where she sees Ellen. When she smiles at Hibiki, Hibiki internally compares her smile to a surprise present that makes her heart skip a beat "even though we're friends" (lol). Ellen also turns down Hibiki's offer to go to the beach, says she doesn't want to return to how they were before (alluding to having to fight and being evil due to her remaining guilt about the whole thing).

Hibiki goes to Shirabe Mansion and runs into Ako who is there because she ran away from Majorland temporarily (just for the day) as she's sick of having to hold her tongue to act like the queen that Mephisto and Aphrodite are training her to be. Even Otokichi says that she needs to try to tolerate it because she's going to be the queen of a whole country. So Ako is kind of arguing with all of her family right now.

Hibiki once again tries to suggest that the team all hang out but Ako immediately said "Can't." before Hibiki could even finish her sentence. RIP.

Hibiki is jealous of Kanade for having so much confidence in knowing what she wants to do to the point that she's not even asking her dad or Seika-senpai for advice anymore.

Hummy came to visit and brought cupcakes from Kanade's store — Hibiki notes that she doesn't remember the last time she's had these. Hibiki plays some piano with Hummy singing and narrates that she can relax around Hummy. It seems Hummy comes to hang out every now and then to check up on Pii-chan (Mephisto & Aphrodite ask her to do this periodically). Afterwards Hummy says goodbye and tells Hibiki to be happy while going back to Majorland.

Personal commentary:

The Ouji thing is extremely annoying. That's now 3/4 of the Suite girls who have had a crush on him, Ako only escaping because she was paired with Souta instead. (Speaking of which, where is that kid?)

It just seems so annoyingly out of character for Hibiki who didn't get his charm and had absolutely zero interest in him the whole series, even when he was just as kind and sparkly then too. I just don't like it. Hibikana wishful delusions aside, I feel like it should've just been left to Kanade since that was already established in show and far more in character.

Otherwise it's honestly cute that Hibiki is aware of her goading Kanade by stealing food routine and likes going through with the whole thing. It really indicates that despite her telling Kanade to buzz off multiple times in the first few eps of the anime she actually is taking actions to stay close to her also even if she didn't want to admit it. Even when they were barely speaking to each other they still had the fight routine about her stealing food from the baking club, which is something she probably did because it was an obvious way to get a reaction from Kanade. But unable to admit her feelings about it or talk about what was actually causing the rift in their relationship, she didn't know how to do anything else other than just fight with Kanade. (Though their initial fight with the whole tree waiting thing was silly as hell.) But like any interaction is better than none so Hibiki still stole food regularly enough for it to become a pattern between the two of them.

The other characters at the club also point that out in ep 1 (?) that Hibiki and Kanade actually are close and both of them shout that they aren't. Meanwhile they both get something out of the interaction enough to keep negging each other even though that isn't what they ultimately want.

However, unlike in the show where they would just start poking at each other's weak points emotionally, instead they both appear to be avoiding blow ups, even as they continue to dance around their emotions. Kind of weird though, since in show even in the early eps when they didn't admit that they were friends again Hibiki would do things like run to Kanade and confess that she's the number one fan of her cakes.

I feel like Kanade is throwing herself into her baking because she doesn't want to think about Hibiki leaving. So she's also avoiding all the things that will come off as like a "This our last time". I wonder if Kanade's new dream to own a posh store of her own is also a "I don't need Hibiki because I have a dream as big as hers" thing.

I don't really like the characterization that Otokichi would get on Ako's (who is like what, now, 9? 10?) case about being a future queen, or that Ako would speak so bluntly and coldly to him. I can sooort of see it but I expected Ako to have a better relationship with Otokichi than this. Rather than being cold to him, I expected her to have a harder time to say stuff that might disappoint him since he was there for her when neither of her parents were in the anime. Like if she was going to get mad at Otokichi I feel like it would be more of a frustrated, hurt / crying outburst type of mad that wants a hug rather than a cold freeze. Given Otokichi's goofy smile for her and stuff in the show, I also feel like he would've been less scolding about the whole thing and more of trying to give her gentler reminders. They're really trying to pull Ako as having to Grow Up immediately but it's kind of funny are you really going to grill your 9 year old like this. You and what, your entourage of clowns and animated self-playing instruments?

Anyway this book is a big tonal shift.

[queenimmadolla]

hi, love! i’m write fics and i’m white and i try to leave things out of my fics like readers cheeks being red or running fingers through her hair, things like that, i was just curious if you had any tips on what else i could to do make my writing as inclusive as possible and avoid anything that’s white-coded

one thing i try to do is mention the head a lot or open action. i have my moments of slip ups to, my fics aren't white coded but i mention fingers through hair sometimes (because for me it was possible, just painful as heck cause he was ripping through my curls when his fingers got stuck in my fuzzball and now it's possible due to my hairstyle but i have to watch myself there) and to mitigate that, i mention playing with hair, cupping the back of your head, stroking your hair─because this doesn't imply the hair is a certain texture─and you can follow that one up with reader shaking their hair out to keep it from being flat and smashed down, because now we're including readers with thick hair, braids, locs, pixie cuts, wolf cuts, pretty manes of curls, beautiful 'fros, etc.

when you wanna maybe imagine your reader with an updo, imply the reader's hair is just out of their face and out of the way. that can just mean they've put it back, be it in a ponytail, slicked back, with a bandana, etc. but my trick is to not be descriptive. i once tried that with an outfit while writing a fic and one of my friends proofing it for me said they liked to imagine the outfit themselves and i realized i didnt need to go super into depth about my reader's physical appearance because their imagination was gonna do alllllll the reader inserting, i just had to make sure to not include any major descriptors which snap them out of it. so i stopped being super descriptive regarding appearance.

yes, saying "Your long hair had enough tangles in it to resemble a well put together rat's nest", is more Shakespearean─per say─but if you say "Your hair was a complete and utter wreck you'd have to spend an entire episode of Games of Thrones to fix to your satisfaction" you don't state the texture or length of the hair but you imply it's bad enough to take a while to maintain and trust me─your readers are gonna imagine their worst nightmare all on their own and what they want the outcome to be.

i focused more on the reader's actions and emotions more than squeezing in some blushing moments or physical descriptions. eddie just said something heartwarming that she never imagined in her wildest dreams he'd say to her? why have her blush when she could feel like her knees were going to give in while simultaneously feeling as though she could defy gravity, disregard the very laws of physics and float on air?

that's just what I do though, anyone else have more advice for our pal????

[gillianthecat]

Kind of Like Liveblogging: Pit Babe

* Thank you for listening to me, Pit Babe, and giving at least a hint of Charlie and Babe conspiring. I still have no idea what their plot is, but I feel more confident we'll find out in a timely manner (and what little they say could arguably fit my revenge-on-Tony theory).

* Pete & Way!! I'm so excited.

* yes. This interaction was so good. So sexy. I love all of Way's smiles, including his melancholy ones. I love how they hardly even look at each other. I feel like good scenes of hitting on someone in bars are rare in BL. I like how grown up this one feels. (Subtitles were slightly confusing though, was Pete trying to imply that he was or that he wasn't hitting on Way?) I can't wait to see where these two go.

* Oh there's more of them!

* Oh, I am all in on PeteWay. That's it, cancel everything else, I just want to follow their story. I was excited about this pairing, but I didn't expect it to be this good. The way Pete just looks at him. They way he leaned his head on the sofa as Way clutched at his hand. The note! "If you need a drinking buddy..." This is melancholy and grownup in a way that is catnip for me. And the actors are adult enough to handle it.

* Kim! *happy little wiggle dance* So far this episode is tailer-made for me. He's so effortlessly powerful. Winner keeps getting brattier and brattier, hoping each time he can finally push Kim into holding him down and fucking him into submission.

* Plot tidbits revealed. I guess Tony is trying to kidnap or otherwise possess Babe so he can sell him to someone? I'm assuming for his special alpha senses? And it looks like he just fired Kim, although the subtitles were confusing.

* Someone in the tags mentioned a possible KimKenta pairing and god I hope we get it. When Tony mentioned punishing Kenta I had a beautiful vision of him whipping Kenta in front of Ken, setting off their omegaverse darkfic journey to love and healing through BDSM.

* Omg, it's the second coming of Kimlock Holmes! Bless.

* This show is starting to give me answers. It's like they read my wishlist. So Charlie is another of Tony's kids (as I guessed), Tony raises them to sell (not surprising), Charlie keeps secrets from Tony about Jeff (good, and could fit my theory). And that's all we learn cause Babe is too busy yelling and Charlie too busy gaping like a fish. Babe's reaction makes sense for the character, but since I already knew I want to move on and get some more information about the why of it all.

* But also Babe you are kinda dumb and have to get better at subterfuge. And uh oh, Tony sees them.

* And now a toothpaste commercial :-/ The product placement is often jarring. At least it's mainly a chance to stare at Way.

* Oh Babe, I'm so sorry. I think I find him the least interesting character, just because he's the most transparent and obvious about who he is and what he wants, but I sympathize with his heartbreak. You finally fell in love and it turns out (it seems like) it was all fake.

* Way used his special persuasive powers again, looking heartbroken and ambivalent about it all. It seems like he can't tolerate the man he loves hurting, and will resort to mind control to "fix" the feeling bad, instead of just holding his pain with him. Nut is really conveying that he believes he's helping Babe by manipulating his mind.

* When Babe grabbed Way's hand I was really expecting a rebound hookup that would simultaneously make Way's wildest dreams come true and ruin his life. And Babe's life too. At least for a few episodes. (But also it would be extremely hot.)

* I'm glad that now Charlie's secret is out we'll get to see more of his real self, whoever that is. Less creepy smiling for now (of which I approve).

* I'm not sure what I think of the use of the these distorting wide angle lenses. Part of it is I can't always tell if they're an artistic choice or just a practical solution to filming in close spaces. But they're also using lots of hand held camerawork and Dutch angles to create moods, so maybe it's intentional.

* The parallels to Pete and Way in the same exact positions on this sofa, with Way now in Pete's spot, looking at the beautiful, heartbroken boy!

* And now Charlie reveals what his plot had been! Apparently he found out that this unknown Alpha was in danger and decided to insinuate himself into his life in order to be a sort of bodyguard, and then genuinely falling in love with him. Which is fine, that's good, it fits all of Charlie's actions we've seen before, and makes their love story as easy as possible. It's minimum levels of betrayal. But it's kinda boring, no? It turns Charlie into a player in Babe's life, without his own goals. I would have preferred my theory of Charlie using Babe to somehow get revenge on Tony. It would make Charlie and his love much richer and more complicated.

* Unless of course Charlie is lying again about his intentions but I really don't think so. It's not that sort of show (I'm pretty sure), and I don't think think their relationship could survive that.

* Along with that reveal we also get more Tony's Alpha Farm lore. A breeding program! Details about enigmas that get confused by the subtitles. (I'm still unclear whether Babe or the enigma would be the one getting mpregnant. And since this is the mpreg racing car BL, that is the most crucial detail of all.) Alphas whose powers never develop, left abandoned in solitary confinement. And we finally learn Charlie's special skill, or rather that he doesn't have one. (Although I would not be at all surprised to find he develops a power just in time to save Babe from Tony in the big climactic showdown.)

* Who is the enigma Tony wants to breed with Babe? Is it someone we know (Winner perhaps? or Jeff? Jeff would make the most sense, for the emotionality and drama) or someone irrelevant offstage. I've decided my money is on Jeff.

* I'm not entirely clear why Tony didn't just kidnap Babe already. His airbnb mansion seems to have minimal security. I'm also unclear on what Charlie thought his presence was doing in terms of protection but either the answers will be revealed in time (I'm not holding my breath) or it's because It Makes the Plot Go (I'll accept it).

* Hmm, and Kenta is (almost definitely) lying to Tony about Charlie. That's good, I like Kenta (and still dream of KimKenta).

* So what's Way's deal? Is he also a runaway from Tony, or did he develop his powers on his own? I don't remember hearing anything either way. (I just had a horrible thought—what if he's Tony's mole and manipulating Babe because of that. But it doesn't fit the evidence so far so I'm hopeful this thought is wrong.)

* Ooohhhhhh. Charlie does have a secret special power after all, and it's Absorption, and he absorbed Babe's heightened senses through all that touching they did. (I appreciate the sex scene montage to remind us about all the touching they did.) AND the only way to transfer the power back is for Charlie to die! "I'm willing to die for you if you want, Babe," he claims! This is a complicated enough twist to satisfy me. Did Charlie do it on purpose? Did he know it was happening? He definitely never tried to stop touching Babe. Does he feel guilty? He doesn't look like he feels guilty. Is he really telling the complete truth? Is he evil after all, even if he's not working for Tony? Maybe he really is the Talented Mr. Ripley. I am Intrigued.

* I was worried when Charlie first arrived and was pleading for Babe's forgiveness, that his old submissive persona wasn't just a persona but who he actually was. Boring. But I should know by now to trust the show more about these sort of things. As soon as Babe accepted him, and settled enough to listen. Dominant Charlie came out, and submissive Babe fell right into line, without even realizing it. The casual authority in the way he told Babe to give him the whiskey glass, and Babe's instant compliance. Delicious. This is so obviously what their dynamic naturally is, and I'm glad the show isn't pretending otherwise.

* And the man who has staked his whole identity on being champion has lost the special powers that got him there. He says he doesn't need them, he can do without, but can he? Some beautiful angst is coming my way.

* The way Charlie slides his arms around Babe's waist is so... just slightly disturbing and I love it. I guess now that he's won he's rewarding(?) Babe by pretending to be all cute and submissive again, but you can't fool me, Charlie Dom.

* I do believe that Charlie genuinely loves Babe. Just that there are a lot of other things going on.

* Oh 😢 I got distracted and forgot about way, and now he's showing up to his dinner with Babe with red roses looking so hopeful. Oh sweetheart.

* Babe riding Charlie in his tiny convertible -> hot.

* But he forgot all about Way, who sat at that table with his roses for hours. The heartbreak on his face at Babe's text. You know what you need, Way? A drinking buddy.

* Of course Alan is the first one to say, we need to bring this evil man to justice and save all the kidnapped children. I love you Alan, you beautiful, kind hearted leader.

* Mostly the bad subtitles are annoying but inconsequential, but WHAT IS BABE SAYING ABOUT KIM?! Does he thing Kim is a danger to him and his crew, or does he think Kim is in danger from Tony? Because it makes a difference. I had assumed Babe realized Kim was on their side, but the translation is off and sometimes Babe's an idiot.

* Dumb and dumber are so oblivious. Who in their garage thinks Tony's a kindhearted guy? I thought they all hated him already. That was weird. (When are these two going to finally hook up? My bet is in the last half of the final episode, right before the coda with the main couples.)

* And as we all knew, it was Kim in danger from Tony. I had seen this screenshot in a post tagged Kim and Kenta, but I didn't look closely, and in my previous imaginings I was picturing Kenta as the one on his knees. But a captured Kim makes more sense plot wise. Kenta holds a knife to a kneeling Kim's throat, which is our second breadcrumb of the day, but this one has some weight to it. (And is delicious, though obviously in their actual dynamic Kim will be the dom. But this is a good starting point :-))

* And it ends! Noooo. I want to know what's next. Way needs to find his beautiful drinking buddy again!

* I'm not going to watch the previews because I like seeing each moment unfold as the happen. Although I'll probably end up spoiled by tumblr anyway. But I'm doing my best to minimize it.

* I like how this show devotes several scenes at a time to each relationship or event, rather than cutting back and forth between characters.

* Well that's it. I've officially fallen for this show. Especially now that all sorts of interesting things are getting revealed and complicated. I am actually a reader of omegaverse fanfic, because I love how the good ones explore gender roles and power dynamics in fascinating ways. And I think this show is doing at least a little of that.

* Oh no, we haven't seen Jeff since the opening scene! I'm worried about him. I think it's only been two and a half days in universe, but I feel like every other episode we got more of Jeff which is making me suspicious that something happened to him. He gave his ambiguous warning and then disappeared. Stay safe, Alan's nu.

[bookaddict05]

Mystery man - pt 2

"I... cant... breath..." I say coming to a holt in the middle of the gym after running 20 laps.

Collapsing to the floor Barnes chuckles to himself. "It wasn't that hard" he says continuing to chuckle.

"Yeah thats easy enough for you to say you have the super soldier serum running through your veins" I retorted back.

"..."

Silence hums through the air between the both of us.

"Well we are done for the day, you can go and do whatever u have planned to do" he walks away from me leaving me sitting in the middle of this gigantic room all alone. Its actually quite peaceful.

~2 hours later~

As im getting out of the shower i hear something get slid under my door. I walk over to see an envelope with my name on. The letter was sealed shut with a wax stamp, so fancy. I throw on a jumper and joggers and run through the bathroon knocking on tessa's ajoining door.

"COME IN" I hear them shout. Walking in tessa is holding the same letter as i am. Shrugging our shoulders we both open the letters simultaneously, like we are sharing the same brain cell.

"Omg tony stark has invited us to a party tonight!" I exclaim in excitment.

"Thats so fricken cool" tessa shouts.

"I have nothing to wear" i pace back through to my room with tessa right on my heals. "I didnt think to pack any formal clothing, i never thought in my wildest dreams id be invited to one of these"

"Hey dont panic we have time it says it doesnt start till 8 anyways, its 4 now we can quickly pop out and find something and it doesnt matter if we are late to the party we will arrive fashionably late" says tessa.

"Omg tessa you are a star i dont know what i would have done without u, probably have a melt down then decide not to go and just read for the night instead" i say while chuckling.

"Yeah yeah im amazing i know, now lets get going"

~1 hour later~

We arrive back with our outfits for the night

I picked up a beautiful floor length red dress that flows so effortlessly while i walked. With a heart-shaped neckline my neck looked bare so i also picked up a necklace my mother had given to me before she died, a small golden love heart which completed the outfit in every way.

Tessa on the other hand picked out a black suit to match their goth lifestyle.

We took our time doing our make up and making ourselfs look stunning as ever.

9pm rolled around and we are already an hour late. A rush of anxiety coursed through me as we walked towards the door of the party. Taking deep breaths in to calm down. Music playing so loudly. We open the doors and the music perfectly timed it self with us playing the chorus of 'jealous' by nick jonas.

It was like something just out of a movie, just so dramatic. Walking through the doors I could feel eyes burning on us I turned to look at Tessa beside me to see that they had disappeared and saw them talking to 2 other agents. I continue to walk through the party taking in all the planning that must have went into this in such short time.

I walk over to the bar where I see Natasha serving Bruce. And sit down. "You look stunning y/n" Natasha says automatically.

"Thanks Nat, you look stunning as well" I stay with them for a while, Nat handing me a drink over, a vodka and coke. While chatting I felt as if there was a set of eyes on me from behind.

I turn around to see the metal man himself standing with Steve and Sam in a conversation, he's standing facing me eyes piercing straight into mine, I smile at him and he smiles back. Strange interaction with the metal man. I turn back around feeling my heart racing, why is he having this affect on me? no one has ever made me feel like this, not since the accident that ended my mothers life.

I got lost in a trance of thinking of my past but I was brought out of it after hearing a deep toned voice come and approach me, I turn to see a dark haired man. Muscles bulging through his black dress shirt, arm sleeves rolled up exposing his tanned muscular arms. He looks at me with deep chocolate brown eyes.

"Hey" the dark haired man said with a smile

I smile back and say hey back

He introduced himself as Eddie

He is perfect in everyway, too perfect.

"Your Y/N right ?" he asked

"Yeah, how did you know that?"

"I'm a new recruit and I've been placed into your group for practice missions"

"Wait? Edmundo?"

"Yeah"

"great to meet you, I've heard brilliant things from the S.H.I.E.L.D Academy, I hope you can live up to these expectations. If you can excuse me I need to head to the toilet and find my friend, I hope you have a great rest of your night" I say while smiling.

I excuse myself from the bar and head towards the toilets. I look at myself in the mirror, not looking physically flustered but I could feel it internally. I shove the feelings back down to where they belong and pull myself together.

I plastered a big smile across my face and went back out amongst the crowd. I walk across the room and grab Tessa. "WE ARE GOING TO DANCE" I shout over the music. I drag them to the dance floor and we cause chaos. Jumping and singing to the top of our lungs like no one was watching.

That's when we heard the initial sound, glass smashing and everything fell silent. The windows to the function room that overlooked the whole of New York fell into the room an object landing in the middle of the room. A bomb.

"RUN OR GET DOWN" I scream, everyone ran to cover but when the bomb exploded I wasn't far enough, the force from the explosion sent me flying into the wall. My head colliding with the wall first causing me to black out.