#but quite frankly. that is how my brain works sometimes. and I do my best to manage it and to be kind to myself instead.

[seraphim-soulmate]

oct 29, 2024

weird day for me a little bit, and all because of a minor issue, which feels silly.

started off ok! was supposed to go grocery shopping in the morning but didn't do that bcs I was spending time researching something I enjoyed (trying to do more things that make me happy), and I was looking forward to my physical therapy session very much! it went really well, but at the end she'd gone a bit over time (which I didn't know) and I wanted to know how thick her yoga mat was, so she went over and told me the brand and I measured it by comparing it with my finger to measure later, but I guess I was taking too much time doing that and so she very politely told me that she was running late already and that she'd like to be able to get off work on time. Which is a totally reasonable request! but it just made me feel really shitty for some reason. It's hard to say what I was feeling and why, I will reflect on this now.

I think in part it's the "oh shit I fucked up" feeling (guilt??) of having to be redirected. Also feeling like I was being rushed and just not appreciating that bcs I was leaving anyways but she told me to leave before I could show her that I was leaving. Realizing something about this situation and my reaction read as "RSD" to me, so I looked it up and indeed. I felt very self conscious and guilty for doing something I felt I had done wrong, but my emotional reaction and duration of that feeling was disproportionate to the event itself. It took me until 8pm (PT ended at 3pm) having a positive interaction with my roommate to turn that around.

But also the interaction with my roommate was interesting bcs it did not start off positively. I had finished a jar of jam that was in the fridge, and it only occurred to me after finishing it that it might not be considered a condiment by some and therefore not a shared item, but instead my roommate's personal jam. So I asked her, and she confirmed it was indeed her personal jam, and either bcs the tone of her voice or just my residual feelings from my interaction with my physical therapist, I felt like I had once again fucked up. But not as bad as with my physical therapist bcs I was going to buy more jam tomorrow anyways, so not a huge deal. Then I realize, "shit. I was only planning on buying 1 jar of jam to replace the one I finished, but now I'll have to buy 2 jars bcs my roommate will want her own personal jar. but I don't eat jam regularly, and I don't know anyone who eats jam regularly enough that having 2 of the same flavors would make sense" etc. etc. etc.

But! instead of continuing to spiral and feel like a shit human being for being rude and inconsiderate and finishing my roommates jam, and who knows maybe she has that jam every day and it's her favorite jam but I just never noticed it move or change in volume since I've been here so I incorrectly assumed it had been abandoned and helped myself to it, and what kind of horrible careless person does that, etc etc etc.

INSTEAD of continuing down that line of thought, I sent her a message being like, "hey, would you be interested in sharing jam or would you prefer your own jar? I never manage to finish mine so it'd be really helpful for me, but I also totally get why someone would prefer to have their own" and guess what. guess fucking what. she's ALSO bad at finishing jams and she's more than happy to share jam with me! And now I'm very happy that I was brave and authentic to myself and my weird thought spirals and that it panned out positively for me!!! And now I can feel closer to my roommate as we share jars of jam! Wahoooieee!

[daddyslilchickenfingers2]

Kinktober (reuploaded)

Thigh Riding (Matt)

Request: None

Warnings: Sub Matt, short, besties to lovers, clingy/needy Matt, subspace, whining, begging, just overall super submissive Matt, kind of anxiety subspace

Y/n’s pov

These last two weeks I have been super busy with work, and Matt who’s used to having my attention 90% of the day, is feeling neglected. I’m not doing it on purpose, I’m letting him sit in my room with me during my meetings or playing with his hair while I’m on a phone call but that’s not enough. I’ve even started editing in Matt’s room so I could spend more time with him. Matt’s my best friend, he just so happens to be super clingy towards me, now that Chris has a girlfriend. He also suffers from severe anxiety so sometimes he falls into a subspace and gets super clingy like a toddler to their mother.

Marylou had told me that Matt’s been like that his whole life, his brain just scrambles. He needs to be told what to do and praised or else he gets really sad/anxious and starts to cry. Knowing this is why I try to spend as much time with him as possible when he’s in his subspace. Today was a bit different though, as Matt openly admitted to everyone this morning that he was feeling ‘submissive and horny’ without a warning. Chris and I laughed while Nick just sat there uncomfortably until they finished their breakfast and both brothers left for the day.

Matt was really needy today, constantly wanting my attention and following my every move. He said he was tired so I went up to his room with him to edit some pictures and thumbnails while he slept. That was short-lived though, as 5 minutes later, Matt was asking to sit on my lap. This was new, but nonetheless, I agreed, letting him sit on my lap while I worked until he got uncomfortable and shifted to one of my thighs. This position was a bit awkward considering he was only wearing boxers and a tshirt, I was wearing the same but I had shorts instead of boxers.

I moved my leg under him and Matt let out a loud gasp that I just ignored until he experimentally moved his hips forward. “Matt, what are you doing?” I questioned, he let out a whimper as he rolled his hips forward again. “C-Can you have sex with me?” he asked, I was shocked to say the least. It’s not that I didn’t want to have sex with Matt, because quite frankly I did. It’s that I’m busy and he’s not in the right headspace, I’m not going to take advantage of that now that he finally trusts me enough to be as vulnerable with me as he is to his mom and Chris.

I thought of a way to let him down gently so he wouldn’t cry, “I’m sorry Matty, I can’t. I’m really busy today, how about I leave for a little bit and you can jack off?” I said softly. I gauged his face for any signs of sadness but he was more so upset. He was still essentially grinding on my thigh in a way while whining because I said no. “Bu-But please?” he tried again, “Not today baby, I’m sorry” I said to him again, “Can I- Uh can I-“ he started.

“Can you what? You gotta use your words” “Can I ride your thigh? Please?” he begged, shoving his hand into his boxers and readjusting his cock. I figured there’s no harm in letting him use my thigh, as long as we’re both clothed, it should be fine. Sighing, I clicked save on my laptop and stood up, picking Matt up and putting him on his bed. He looked at me with wide eyes, “A-Am I in trouble?” he asked nervously, “No, I’d just rather sit on your bed, c’mon you can ride my thigh if you keep your clothes on” I explained.

He excitedly got back on my thigh, fixing his cock so the head was pressed right against my thigh, taking on a lot of his body weight as well so there was more pressure on it. He started moving his hips, whining at the new feeling he’d discovered. “Touch me?” he asked, I cupped his face and lightly stroked his jaw. “I’m sorry Matty, I can’t do that” I said softly causing Matt to loudly whine. “Just to help me move. Pleeeaase?” he dragged out.

I gave in, agreeing that I would hold onto his hips or waist to help him move faster. I could feel Matt’s dick rubbing on my thigh and not gonna lie, it turned me on. Matt had his hands on his thighs as he essentially humped my thigh, “Fuck! This feels so good! Wish you would touch me Y/n/n, so badly” he moaned out. “I know Matty, I’m sorry. You’re doing so well by yourself though” I praised him. He started to move faster, swiveling his hips a few times and moaning.

Matt must be really sensitive because he was already whimpering and acting like he was close. “Are you gonna cum Matt?” I asked seductively, “Y-Yes, s-so close, can I cum in my pants? Is that okay?” he inquired, breathlessly. “Go ahead baby” I said and Matt started moving faster. He moved his arms to my shoulders and hid his face in my neck, moaning at the pleasure. Matt’s hips sputtered and he moaned loudly in my ear as he came, a lot of his cum ended up leaking through his boxers and onto my thigh but I didn’t mind. I started rubbing Matt’s back while he came down from his high, panting in my ear and holding onto my shoulders tightly.

“Do you feel better now Matty?” I asked him softly, only getting a simple hum back before he pulled away from my neck. He looked so fucked out and I didn’t even do anything to him, Matt got off my thigh and instantly frowned, “I made a mess” he pouted. It really wasn’t even that bad, he just needed to change his boxers and I needed to wipe my leg off but to him, it seemed very important. “It’s okay, I can get us cleaned up baby” I smiled down at him, and to my surprise, Matt leaned down and started licking his own cum off my thigh, it was pretty hot.

“Wha-“ I started but Matt was already done, “Was I a good boy?” he asked with pleading eyes, “Yes Matty, you were very good” I praised, making him smile widely. He made his way off the bed and quickly changed his boxers as I walked back over to his desk, but he stopped me by hugging me from behind. I turned around to properly hug him and kiss the top of his head, “Thank you” he smiled happily “You’re welcome handsome” I smiled back. Matt pulled away from the hug and went over to his bed, “I’m going to take a nap now, can you still stay in here please?” he asked while getting under the covers. “Yes, I’ll stay. Goodnight Matty” I replied, “Goodnight” he mumbled back, already falling asleep while I went back to my editing.

Taglist: @angelic-sturniolos111 @biimpanicking @biplrbtch @chrisolivia4l @christinarowie332 @chr1sgirl4life @creamoncreamoncream2 @delimeats-000 @devthepoet @ermdontmindthisaccount @flowerxbunnie @fionaheartswomen @gilbertscurls @heartsforchrisandmatt @iheartchrissturniolo @ilovemattsturn @its-jennarose @justaslvttygirl @kvtie444 @lustfulslxt @luvysworld @meg-sturniolo @m6ttsturniolo @mangosrar @mangoposts @meerkatzthings @mattsnutsack @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @recklesssturniolo @solarsturniolo @soursturniolo @strniohoeee @strawberrysturniolo @sturniolocoded @sturniofilmd @sturniolohoe @sturniolopepsi @sturniolo0ntop @thecynthh

All work is subject to copyright

©Daddyslilchickenfingers2 2024

Do not steal, use, or reupload my work

[gummydummy19]

Not now (male reader version)

Summary: You and Natasha are major enemies with benefits. You can hardly be in the same room together, let alone an elevator...

Content Warnings: smut (blowjob), angst, fluffy ending (you know me), LANGUAGE!

A/N: This fic is one of my favorites out of everything i've ever written, so I decided to make a male reader version :)) hope you like it! feedback is always welcomed

Word Count: 3.4K+

It had been a long, exhausting day. You weren't even supposed to go on any more missions until next week, but Fury decided to wreck your Friday and send you on your hardest mission yet. Your body ached and you just wanted to crawl into your bed as soon as possible. So when you saw Nat approaching the elevator, you silently prayed the doors would close before she got in. You just couldn't deal with her right now. Not now.

Of course, luck wasn't on your side today. Natasha slipped her slender body in between the doors just as they were about to close, joining you in the space that suddenly felt too small.

She smirked widely when you noticeably rolled your eyes.

"In a hurry?" she asked.

"Just tired." You dryly stated.

"Yeah, I can tell. You look like shit" She teased.

To be quite honest, you were fairly sure Nat hated you way more than you actually hated her, but you weren't about to let her know that.

You and Natasha started this whole enemies-with-benefits thing a while ago, and somewhere along the way, you started finding it harder and harder to keep up the hating game.

Sometimes you just wanted someone to talk to, to watch a movie with, to hold you after you'd a long day like this.

Admittedly, hating each other's guts resulted in some mind-blowing sex. Nat might be an arrogant bitch most of the time, but she was still the best fuck you've ever had, and you didn't wanna throw that away just because you were getting a little needy. So you decided to just suck it up and stick with what you did best, annoying her until she let you fuck her stupid.

And it had been working out just fine, but today you were so exhausted and she looked so good in her big comfy sweater and her tight black yoga pants. She had been growing out her hair lately and it was currently tied up in a messy bun.

You could barely look her in the eye, desperately trying to come up with a snarky response, but your brain failed you as the only thing you could think of was how good it would feel her nails rake through your hair right now.

She frowned, clearly confused and quite frankly annoyed at your lack of attitude.

She let out an annoyed huff and in one quick movement, her hand hit the emergency button, making the elevator halt.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" You snapped

"ME? What the hell is wrong with YOU? Did I fuck you stupid last time? What's going on?" She yelled.

Natasha had noticed the change in your behavior lately, and she didn't like it. Not one bit.

Her words made a blush creep up your neck and you silently cursed your body for betraying you.

You knew Nat thrived off your attitude. You were the only one who ever questioned her authority, it kept her on her toes.

She took a step closer to you and you immediately took a step back, not knowing if you could do this much longer.

Desperately trying to match her stern energy, you snapped back at her.

"Why the fuck do you even care?? Talk about being fucking cock drunk, Romanoff."

"That's what you'd like, huh, big boy? To get me cock drunk on that big dick of yours?" Natasha inched closer to you as you tried your best to ignore how hard you were getting from her voice alone.

"In your dreams, you fucking bitch" You turned around and hit the button again, making the elevator restart.

You felt her boobs push against your back and all you could do was stare at your shoes and pray to whatever was good and holy that this stupid elevator would just hurry the fuck up already.

Soft hands with perfectly manicured nails crept up the sides of your arms, while her plush lips left teasing kisses on your clothed back. The body heat radiating off her made it hard to think straight.

Gathering all your willpower, you softly shoved your elbow against her side, shaky arm pushing against her torso, trying to get her to move.

"Get off me, Natasha." Your tone almost had her believing you actually didn't want this.

Almost.

"Not until you tell me who shoved a stick up your ass." her voice was soft and teasing, tingling against the shell of your ear as she stood on her tippy toes.

She stopped the elevator for a second time.

"Natasha, I'm serious, cut it out!" You groaned, before pushing the button again.

"So am I?" she continued and her hand moved towards the button yet again.

"Would you stop?! You're acting like a child!" you yelled, trying to get the upper hand as the small metal cage rumbled.

The poor emergency stop must have been hit damn near a dozen times as you and Nat continued your pointless bickering.

Suddenly, the entire elevator shook and came to an abrupt stop, making her cling to your side for balance.

The lights flickered out and the buzzing noise that usually lingered around was gone.

You pushed Natasha off you and desperately tried hitting a couple buttons.

Nothing.

"Look what you fucking did!" you screamed at her.

"Me?" she yelled.

If looks could kill, Natasha Romanoff would be dead on the floor of that elevator right now.

A thick, deafening silence settled in between the two of you, and you let out a breath you didn't know you had been holding. Dropping your gaze to the floor, you let your shoulders hang, rubbing your hands over your face in exhaustion.

You turned around, staring at the buttons.

Fed up and extremely done with this stupid situation, tears started welling in your eyes. Fuck.

The emergency lights had gone on. You checked your phone. Of course there was no reception and it was late already, everyone else had gone to bed on their own floor and there was no way they'd hear you all the way from here.

"Perfect. Just perfect." You muttered.

Fresh out of fucks to give, you finally let the numb feeling you had been trying to push away all day take over your body. You slid down the wall, sitting with your knees drawn up and your fingers tangled in your hair as Nat just stood there and watched.

"Should have taken the fucking stairs," she mumbled.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath.

You were utterly exhausted, every muscle in your body ached. All you wanted was a hot shower and some sleep, and now you were trapped in this stupid elevator and you had to look at Natasha's stupid cranky face all night. Any other day you would have given her her crap right back, but not today. Not now.

Simply lacking the energy to be your usual witty and confident self, you let out an annoyed sigh.

"I'm so fucking tired." You finally muttered. If it wasn't for the deafening silence surrounding you, she probably wouldn't even have heard it.

Making eye contact with her was impossible at this point. And even if you had it in you to look her in the eye right now, the thick tears that started welling blurred your sight.

"Oh great, now he's fucking crying." Nat groaned, more to herself than to you.

You rolled your teary eyes at her typical arrogance. But when she took an awkward step closer, you pointed your finger at her.

"Don't even think about coming near me right now, Romanoff." You warned.

She smirked at the remark, finally catching a glimpse of the snarky man she was secretly so crazy about.

To your surprise, she moved closer and sat down beside you.

You glared down at her.

"You don't have to prete-"

"Oh, shut up." she cut you off as she cuddled closer to your side, dropping her head on your arm.

The smell of her hair brought you a weird sense of peace, which you welcomed nonetheless. There was something about her, about being this close to her. You couldn't put your finger on it, but it melted away your anxiety like snow in the sun.

A comfortable silence settled in between the two of you as you sniffled quietly, wiping away a couple of stray tears that had escaped your eyes.

She sat back up to look at you. You felt her eyes burning against your face but you couldn't bring yourself to return her stare. In all honestly, this was probably the most embarrassing moment of your life.

Clearing your throat, you pulled away from her.

"Alright, thanks," you said, before scooting a few inches to the other side.

As much as you hated to acknowledge it, being away from her even a few inches filled you with a slight cold, empty feeling. And you had to go against every fiber in your body not to scoot closer and ask her to snuggle up against you again.

"You don't always need to be such a tough guy," she spoke, making you scoff

"Oh, that's rich, coming from you."

To your surprise, she didn't say anything after that. She just cuddled closer to you again, clinging to your arm and she nuzzled her face comfortably against your shoulder.

A weird sense of comfort took over your body. That urge you had to be held and taken care of bubbled up again and you let Natasha fill that void. You knew it wasn't real. She didn't want to be here. But she was. And you were going to enjoy her warmth for as long as you could.

The intoxicating smell of his perfume and her body wash mixed with her natural sweet scent invaded your nostrils and made a heat run through you, warming you from the inside out.

You must have dosed off after that, because the next thing you know you felt your body being shoved aside, abruptly waking you from your slumber.

"Finally you guys got here! Her was starting to drool on my shirt." Natasha's arrogant voice spoke to Sam and Bucky, who had apparently found you in the elevator.

You knew it was too good to last. At least now you could go to your room and get some rest. Alone.

You slowly sat up, blinking the sleep from your eyes as you gaped at the three men in front of you. The smell of Nat was still heavy on you. Before any of them could say anything you scrambled out of the elevator. Running through the hallway to your room, wanting nothing more than for this day to just be over with already.

"Hey, wait!" Nat's voice sounded through the hallway as you looked for your keys, rolling your eyes.

"Oh for fucks sake, does she ever take a break?" you mumbled to yourself.

"Looking for these?" she asked, dangling your keys in front of you with a smug look on her face.

You groaned, reaching for the keys only to have them pulled away at the last second. It was quiet between the two of you for a beat, before you lunged for the keys again, failing miserably.

Okay. now you were pissed.

Natasha looked at you with a shit-eating grin.

"Come on, pretty boy." she teased, "come and get them"

Okay. Now you were pissed.

There was no way in hell you were faster than her. You knew it. She knew it. She just wanted to see you try. See you emberrass yourself even further.

And you actually debated it. For a split second, you debated it.

Nope.

Not today, Romanoff.

You were done. Done with this day. Done with these games. Done with her.

You scraped together every ounce of dignity you had left and turned around, walking away from her.

You got halfway through the hall before you heard her chuckle.

"And where are you going now, huh?" she questioned, obviously very amused.

"To sleep in Wanda's room." you simply said, not even bothering to turn around. You didn't need to see her face to know the grin had fallen.

"The hell you are." you heard her say, suddenly way closer to you as you heard her footsteps approach.

Before you could even comprehend what was happening Natasha yanked your arm back and walked you back down the hallway.

“What the-…HEY STOP” you tried to wriggle your arm out of her grasp but your already exhausted body just wouldn’t work with you. And perhaps your needy brain didn’t mind being held by Natasha...

Before you knew it you were being pushed into a room as she slammed the door behind her. You quickly realized you had entered a bedroom, but it wasn’t yours…oh no this was Natasha's room. You could recognize it from the scent alone…

She walked over to the bed and sat down at the foot of it, looking you straight in the eyes.

You stared at her from across the room, arms crossed, trying your best to appear stern despite the fact that the entire room smelled of her and it was making you want to crawl up in a ball on the floor, like a cat waiting to be cuddled.

"come here," she said, voice calm yet commanding.

"Bite me "

"I said come here."

"And I said bite me."

"If you come here then maybe I will."

You rolled your eyes but did as she said.

"Now what?" You asked in the most pissed-off voice you could muster.

Natasha saw right passed your macho behavior, knowing exactly what you needed from her. She grabbed your wrist and pulled you down onto her bed next to her before getting on your lap and wrapping her arms around your neck

"Now you let me make you feel good, sweetheart." her warm breath caressed the shell of your ear, making the hair at the back of your neck stand up as goosebumps started to spread all the way down to your spine.

She slowly pulled off her sweater and you groaned when you realized she wasn't wearing anything underneath, immediately sitting up to suck on her nipples.

A groan tumbled over your lips when her nails raked through your hair, gently scratching your scalp. Your hands touched every inch of flesh they could find, trailing up and down over her back, making her whimper.

Thoroughly enjoying each other's embrace, her impatient fingers moved down your torso and tugged at your shirt. Your lips curled into a smile against her to let her know he got the message. Within the blink of an eye, your shirt was gone and her lips were back on yours, devouring you as if you were her very last meal.

Your hands played with her tits as she started pressing kisses against your neck and down to your chest, pushing you back down on the bed.

"Stay down for me, handsome," she whispered in that low, sultry voice of hers.

She peppered your entire chest with soft, warm kisses, not leaving an inch of your body untouched. You laid back comfortably in her fluffy pillows and you felt your entire body relax. You enjoyed the view of her crawling down your body and unbuckling your belt. Natasha's plump lips moved down to your stomach and started kissing along the trail of hair growing down to your pubic bone as she pulled down your pants and boxers, revealing your growing cock. Her nails trailed over your skin sporadically, leaving goosebumps wherever they touched. Just as you noticed you had begun to smile to yourself, you got pulled from the cloud you were happily floating on by a sharp pain on your hip.

"AH!! Did you just bite me?!"

"'I'm a lady of my word."

Before you could scramble away from her, she licked a ferm stripe up your cock, all the way from your balls to your tip. You let out a low groan that quickly turned into a steam of moans as Natasha started bobbing her head up and down. She wasted no time, hollowing out her cheeks and swirling his soft tongue over your leaking cockhead, absolutely devouring you with all she had.

One of her hands reached down to play with your balls. Gently squeezing the soft flesh blindly while her eyes stayed focused on yours. She moved her hand to yours, guiding it to her head and throwing a wink at you. Your fingers quickly tangled in her hair as you pushed her down a little to take your cock deeper.

"Oh fucckkk...." you moaned, feeling your balls draw up as you got closer and closet to your peak.

Natasha kept sucking you off like her life depended on it as she moved her free hand down between her legs to play with her sopping pussy, messily rubbing her clit she started moaning on your cock. God she loved the taste of you, she simply couldn't get enough, it was making drip.

Both of your moans got louder and your hips started bucking up in her throat. Every square inch of your body was on fire.

Nat took her mouth off you for a second and stroked your spit-covered dick as fast as she could.

"Please, cum for me...m'so close..." she whined, making you realize she's been touching herself while sucking your cock.

"shit....please...gonna cum..." you moaned desperately

"Yeah? Cum down my throat while I cum on my fingers....shit..." she whined before taking you back in her mouth, immediately letting your cock slide deep down her throat as she choked on it.

"Fuck Nat I'm gonna cum!" you yelled, "You're gonna make me cum! You're gonna...I'm gonna...Oh fuck..fuck, please! Don't fucking stop...ah!"

And she didn't, she kept sucking your cock as she touched herself, and when her body started trembling from her own orgasm you finally couldn't take it anymore.

You came down her throat while she came all over her own fingers. You trembled and whined as she gently suckled on your cock, swallowing every last drop of your cum.

You tried to blink away your tears until they finally rolled down your cheeks, you tried to calm down your breathing as you layed there, trembling on her bed.

"What do you need, baby?" Natasha finally spoke, sitting up between your legs and softly stroking your thighs.

It took a while for your breathing to calm down, you didn't even know why you were crying to be honest. You just felt like you were experiencing a lot of emotions at once, and it was pretty intense.

"A fucking hug." you finally spoke.

Nat giggled at your reply before scooting over to sit next to you, leaning against the headboard.

"Come here."

Slowly, you crawled into her open arms, curling up against her into a ball with your head right against her bare tits.

Surprisingly, Natasha was very soft and sweet, not at all what she was usually like with you.

She rubbed your back and just laid there with you, enjoying each other's warmth and the comfortable silence that had settled in the room.

You couldn't help but let out more tears, softly sniffling into her chest as you clung to her.

"shhh" he whispered comfortingly, pressing a few kisses to the top of your head. "It's okay, l'm here. And you did so so good."

For the next few minutes, Natasha just held you, until you were ready to talk to him about what exactly it was that got you so overwhelmed.

After some time, you sat up and just looked at Nat. At her eyes, her nose, her mouth.

You leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against her lips.

"Thanks," you said.

"For letting you cum down my throat?" she joked, trying to get rid of some of the tension.

"For the care," you replied, meaning what you said.

She just smiled at you.

You didn't even know what to say. Never in your life have you expected Natasha to be so caring, especially not for you.

"Wanna shower together?" she suggested, leaving you even more stunned.

"Okay, who are you and what have you done with Natasha Romanoff?"

At first, she giggled at your reaction, but then her face grew a little more serious.

"I wanna be here for you for more than just fucking. The whole cat and mouse game was fun while it lasted, but seeing you the way I saw you today, so exhausted you could barely stand up straight. I never wanna see you like that again, baby. Unless of course, it's my doing." she added smugly before pressing another kiss to your lips.

"There she is again." you chuckled against her lips.

After some more kisses and giggles, you decided to accept Nat's offer and you took a long hot shower together, followed by some much-deserved cuddles and a movie you never saw the end of because you drifted off, with Natasha happily snuggled against your chest.

[dean-samw67]

So I thought of something that would actually give me motivation to go back to the gym and that’s being delusional

So hear me out, reader is going to the gym and perving on Carlos while he works out, he confronts reader only for them to deny it and he’s all like “don’t fkn lie to me” and then hanky panky time happens

Don't Play Dumb

Carlos Oliveira X Fem!Reader

(A/N: I got you, I got you. He would probably actually have a restraining order if this was real.)

Warnings!!: Smut (Obvi), Fingering, vaginal penetration, FUCKING HONRY MFS, Don't do this irl

Words: 3537

You hated the gym. Despised it. Yet you continued to go. Why? That answer was simple. The gym hottie. Carlos Oliveira. You had pretty much learned his schedule. Maybe it seemed creepy but he was your motivation. He had dark curly hair that got more curly when he sweat, deep eyes that honestly made your heart melt. And who could leave out his fucking muscles? 

So, regularly, you found yourself walking the treadmill while watching him lift weights. You would have offered to be a spotter, but frankly you were too nervous. You had your earbuds in your ears, your show playing on your phone while you walked on the treadmill and kept glancing at Carlos. 

Something about today… he looked fucking delicious. His black tank top clung beautifully to his skin as he sweat. His basketball shorts were riding up just a bit, revealing a little bit of his thigh. Shit, you knew how pervy this was, But you couldn’t help it. 

You tried your best to look away but sometimes when he moved the right way, and his muscles flexed, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away. He made your mouth water and quite honestly, made your panties soaked. 

By the end of the workout, it was overall, cleared out. A few stragglers, including Carlos and yourself. You were wiping your neck with a towel, getting your stuff together when you hear footsteps approaching behind you. You didn’t think much of it at first, since it was possibly someone passing by you. But a chuckle brings your attention to the person behind you. You turn with furrowed eyebrows, revealing a sweaty Carlos. His face was red and his hair a mess. 

“You look at every guy like that?” He had a cocky smirk plastered on his face and his arms crossed. 

“Uh…” Your heart practically gave out. “What?” You try your best to put on an innocent, confused smile. 

“Don’t play dumb.” He steps closer to you, your heart wanting to jump out of your throat. “I saw you. You don’t need to lie.” He chuckles. You try to say something but suddenly your mouth feels dry. You were caught in the act. He probably thought you were a weirdo. Which, you probably were. But he didn’t need to know that. 

“Well I uh-”

“You need to make your perving less obvious.” He cut you off by leaning down by your ear and lowering his voice. You couldn’t help but stand like a deer in headlights. 

“I… I’m so sorry.” You quickly apologize, not really knowing what else to do in this situation. 

“So are you gonna answer my question?” He raises an eyebrow. 

“What do you mean?”

“Do you look at all the guys around the gym like that?” All you could do is shake your head, not trusting your voice at this moment. “I just happen to be the lucky man?” He laughs. 

“I guess.” You kinda squeak out, your voice clearly displaying nervousness. 

His hand slips into yours and you let out a gasp as he chuckles and says, “Good.” Before letting your hand go and walking past you. The smell of his cologne mixed with his sweat made you feel like a feral animal in its mating season. You look down at a small slip of paper that now sat in between your fingers. You open the paper up to reveal a number on it. 

***

Sitting at home, you couldn’t help but stare at the small piece of paper as it sat on the coffee table next to your phone. Was it real? Or was he trying to make a fool of you? As if you didn’t feel foolish enough for being caught today. Or maybe he’s noticed before and never said anything? God. Your brain was racing.

You inhale and hold your breath as you pick up your phone and type in his number, staring at it before typing up a text. 

Y:Hey, it's the girl from the gym. Is this Carlos?

You quickly toss your phone down as you turn on your tv and try to distract yourself. What the hell was wrong with you? You had never felt this nervous texting a man. But then again none of them had caught you perving on them in the gym until now. 

As soon as your phone goes off you stare at it, heart pounding in your chest you could barely hear your show anymore. You pick it up, reading his text:

C:So you know my name?

You throw your phone to the other side of the couch as soon as the text processes. You couldn’t really explain that you found his name out by “accidentally” overhearing his conversation with another gym member. God… you really are a creep, huh? You take a deep breath and pick your phone back up. There was another message from him. 

C:What else do you know about me?

Text was an easy way to be confident, right? Right? You take a deep breath and begin to type out a text. 

Y:Not as much as I wish.

As soon as you pressed send you wanted to scream. He’s gonna think you are weird. That sounded creepy as fuck. The way he answered so fast made you more nervous. 

C:Oh, yeah?

Was that good or bad? You couldn’t tell. 

Y:Yeah…

You let out a mini scream as a call comes through. It was his number! What the fuck!? You slowly answer it but stay quiet, unsure what to say. 

“You there?” Carlos chuckles after a minute of silence.

“I think.” 

“You think?” He laughs, sounding purely amused by your answer. 

“Mhm…” You hum as you nod, even if he can’t see you. 

“You are funny.” Your heart jumps at the compliment. 

“Thank you?” You bite your lip as you laugh quietly. You weren’t trying to be funny, but you’d take it. 

“So what else would you want to know?” 

“Huh?” You are pulled back to the reality of the situation. 

“You said you didn’t know as much as you’d like. So what more would you like to know?” You could practically hear a smug smirk in his voice. 

You couldn’t outright say his dick size. So you say: “You.”

“Me? What about me?” He questions. 

“Just… you.” You shrug as you answer him. 

“I thought I was just eye candy.” You could tell he was joking but it didn’t stop your cheeks from turning a deep shade of red. 

“I-” You pause for a moment. “I didn’t mean to-” 

“I was joking.” He quickly jumps in and laughs a bit. The sound made you let out a nervous, shaky laugh. After another moment of silence he speaks up again. “So you have a name or just ‘Hot pervy gym girl’?” The ‘hot’ part of it definitely threw you off. 

“Uh… I uh… Well-” You chuckle nervously. “Hot?” 

He lets out a deep laugh that echoes through the room from your phone. “Yeah.” 

“Um… It’s Y/n.” You answer. 

“Wow.” 

“Wow?” 

“Who knew your name would match your beautiful face.” You can’t help but roll your eyes. 

“Shut the hell up.” You laugh. 

“What?” He chuckles. 

“You are stupid.” You giggle and look at your phone. 

“Hey, that's not very nice. You shouldn’t say that to men you perv on at the gym.” 

You sigh as he says it again. “You aren’t gonna let me live that down.” 

“Nope.” He sounded very proud of himself. 

“Right.”

***

The next day in the gym was interesting. It wasn’t your normal secret staring. As you walked on the treadmill, Carlos kept making eye contact. And he didn’t even try to break it. If he wasn’t watching you watch him, he was very obviously flexing and showing off. Like he knew when you were looking at certain parts. 

You inhale deeply and let out a heavy breath as you turn off the treadmill. You grab your stuff before slowly walking over to Carlos, who was just finishing up on the bench press. 

“Spot me?” You ask, before looking at the weight plates that were on the bar. 

“Yeah. Let me help with this.” He says as he helps you take down the weight and make it even. As soon as he is done helping, he wipes down the bench. You get on and lay back as he stands behind the bar and looks down at you. He did a half ass job of wiping it down, because you could still feel a bit of sweat against your back. But you don’t say anything. Instead you look up at him as you place your hands on the bar. 

A part of you couldn’t help but picture you laying like this with him standing over you, and fucking your throat. You shake the thought as you slowly push the bar up and begin to bench press, Carlos keeping a close eye and holding his hands under the bar. 

He helps you push the weight up and back into place when finished. You grunt as you sit up and drink from your water bottle. You couldn’t help but notice Carlos’s eyes as they scan over you, a small smirk gracing his face. You look up at him and he looks away, eyes meeting a clock on the wall. 

“You know you didn’t completely wipe off the bench.” You point out as you stand up. 

“I know.” He looks back at you. 

“It’s a little gross, you know?” You wipe the bench off completely. 

He leans close to your face, lips just brushing your ear. “Not when you smell like me now.” He chuckles just before standing up and walking away, his hand just brushing your ass. You are left there to blush as you think about what he said. When you turned around, he was no longer in the room. You clear your throat and quickly gather your things, hurrying to the locker room. Fuck, this man was teasing you now. You brush your hand over your face and then head off to take a shower, hoping it’ll relieve some of your pent up feelings. 

It was nearing closing time for the gym by the time you finish. So it was mostly empty. You step out of the shower with a towel wrapped around your body. You walk over to your bag and pull out your change of fresh clothes. 

You hear the door to the locker room open, and don’t think much of it. Probably just another woman finishing up for the day. As you pull out your clothes you feel a pair of strong arms around your waist. You let out a sharp gasp and elbow whoever it was in the gut. The groan and step back quickly, allowing you to turn around and look at them. 

“Carlos!” You gasp as you see who it was. He was leaning over grunting, holding his side. 

“I would not want to mess with you. You are stronger than you look.” He laughs as he rubs the spot you had elbowed him. 

“I am sorry. Do you sneak up on women often in the ladies locker room?” You joke a bit as you walk to his side.

“I guess we both are weird pervs.” He jokes as he stands up straight. 

“Shut up.” You laugh as you roll your eyes. “I never snuck into the men's locker room.”

“You don’t want to. It's scary. And I am a man.” He chuckles as he takes a seat on a nearby bench. You scoff with a laugh as you walk back to your bag. “You washed off my scent.” He teases. 

You blush a bit as you bite your lip and chuckle. “Just wanted to wash my own sweat off.” 

“Maybe I have to make you smell like me again.” You could hear him get up but keep your eyes on your bag as he walks up behind you. Your heart was racing. 

“How do you intend to do that?” You question, your voice quiet as you fiddle with the hem of your towel. He steps up behind you, his arms snaking around your waist. This time you don’t even flinch as his hands find the opening of your towel. His hand makes contact with the bare skin of your stomach and waist. You gasp at how warm his hand felt in contrast to the cool air of the locker room. 

“May I?” He asks and you already knew what he was asking for. All this sexual tension and he still made sure to ask. It struck you with something. And in full honesty, made you want to fuck him even more than you already did. 

“You may.” You nod, your eyes fluttering closed. Carefully, he pulled your towel off of your body, tossing it on the bench with your stuff. Immediately his hands find your waist, caressing along it. A gasp escapes your lips as his mouth finds a place on your neck, kissing and gently biting at the skin. You didn’t even have to look at him. You could tell he was debating whether he should leave marks or not. And ultimately, he decided to. You could feel his mouth become a little more rough when he makes this decision. 

“Fuck…” You let a whimper escape your lips. It is easy for Carlos to tell you may be a little touch deprived. He doesn’t mind. He will just satisfy all your needs that you left untouched.

“Feeling good, meu amor?” That fucking accent while he called you that, sent you into a spiral. 

“Fuck you, Carlos.” You chuckle as a soft moan escapes your lips when his hand begins to travel down your stomach. 

“So defensive.” He chuckles. “You’ll be putty in no time, don’t you worry.” You could feel his smirk against your neck just before his fingers found your swollen clit. You let out a whine and feel your legs turn to jelly immediately. Why does he have this effect on you? How could one man do all this? 

“You are soaking wet, meu amor… Been thinking about something recently?” He teases.

“Maybe. There seems to be this guy… ah… that I think about… some-sometimes…” You stutter through your moans as his fingers rub circles on your most sensitive spot on your body. 

“He must be a real catch to have you this wet.” He chuckles as he nips at your shoulder, his calloused fingers moving down to your dripping hole.

“Must be…” You repeat his words as it feels as though your head is spinning. Jesus, you really are touch starved. 

“May I?” He asks again, his fingers spreading your wetness over your swollen pussy lips. You can only muster a nod in this moment before his middle finger is slipping into your cunt with ease. 

“Shit!” You let out a gasp and whine as he does this. He smirks as he thrusts his finger in and out of you. 

“How long has it been since someone has done this to you?” He can’t help but laugh at your reactions. 

“Don’t laugh…” You whimper, bucking your hips forward as he adds a second finger. 

“It’s cute, darling, don’t worry.” He smirks and nips at your ear. The palm of his hand would brush against your clit with each thrust of his fingers, getting you closer to the edge even faster. You reach up to cover your face as it contorts with pleasure. His free hand is quick to push them down. “Let me see you. I want to see that pretty face when you cum on my fingers.” 

“Carlos…” You whimper as you look back at him. 

“That’s it. Good girl…” He whispers as he curls his fingers with each movement inside you. It hit the right spot and was getting you closer and closer to that high. Your wetness was dripping down his fingers. It was a mess. And you had just showered too. 

“I… I’m gonna…” You moan and whine, biting on your lip.

“Already? I told you that you would be putty.” Carlos chuckles as he continues the repetitive movement with his hand, not slowing or stopping. Within your body is shaking and your walls are tightening around his fingers as you reach that peak. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck… Carlos.” You can’t control the line of curses and his name as they leave your mouth. 

“Look at that. So pretty.” Carlos smirks as he takes a seat on the bench, sitting you on his lap as he does so. You could feel the very prominent bulge against your ass as he does this. You don’t say anything as you attempt to catch your breath. 

After just a moment of regulating your breathing he is lying you down on the bench and hovering over you. You stare up at him, eyelids a bit heavy. 

“We aren’t done.” He had that stupid smirk on his face like always. You hear him fiddling with his belt, undoing it and then his button on his pants following. He pushes his pants down enough to let his cock fall free of his confinements. He was above average. Definitely the biggest you had seen in person. His tank top was pushed up so you could see his happy trail. It made you horny all over again. Which was pretty easy for him to do. He pulls your legs up, holding them under the knees and keeping them spread apart. This allowed him a full view of your already spent cunt. He chuckles as the tip of his cock brushes against your soaked entrance. 

“May I?” There were those two words again. You had let him destroy you with his fingers and he still was asking if he could do this. 

“Yes.” You nod and stare up into his eyes. As you do so he carefully sinks his cock into your swollen pussy. 

“Holy fuck!” You grunt and grit your teeth, a slight pain from his size. It was not awful but not something you are used to. 

“I’m sorry, I’ll be slow.” He whispers as his arms are placed on the bench above your head. Your legs now rested against his thighs as he slowly moved his hips against yours. He keeps his eyes on your face to make sure he wasn’t making it worse. It didn’t take long for that pain to fade into pure pleasure and you were thrusting your hips to meet his and encourage him. 

With that he grunts in your ear as his hips pick up the pace. Your hands find their way around his body and your nails find his back. You were still sensitive from the earlier orgasm, making this more intense. There is a slapping of your hips against his with each thrust he took. 

“Good girl. Taking me so well.” His praises just fill you with more pleasure than before. He could feel the soft clench of your walls around him from his words and it made him feel absolutely insane. He buries his face in your neck, taking in your scent, which was now mixed with his. 

“Carlos… please…” You can barely whine out as your nails drag down his back. 

“What? Use your words, meu amor.” He bites on your earlobe as his grunts and groans. 

“More, please.” Your words come out just as a whimper but he doesn’t hesitate to comply and pick up the pace of his thrusts. Your eyes roll back as your back arches off of the bench you laid on. 

“That what you wanted, sweetheart? More of my cock?” He moans against your skin. You can muster up a nod but the only thing falling from your mouth at this moment was pleas of pleasure. He chuckles through his own sounds of pleasure as his hips rock against yours. You knew that you were already teetering on the edge of a second release, in hopes he was at the same point as you. 

You could feel your legs shuttering against his toned thighs and that only fueled his ego more, making him slam into your dripping cunt with more vigor. His back at this point was covered in scratches from your nails, and each one elicited a groan from his lips. 

“I… gonna… ah, fuck!” You couldn’t even warn him before you are tipping over the edge and the walls of your pussy are clenching around his thick cock. He grunts and stabilizes himself on the bench with his arms as his thrusts come to a complete stop and his hot cum fills your spent cunt. As the two of you are left to fall down from your high, the locker room is filled with heavy breathing and soft whimpers. 

“You did so well.” Carlos breathes out before capturing your lips with his as if rewarding you for this. It wasn’t until you pulled away and took notice of the clock on the wall, realizing that it was five minutes to close and you both would have to rush to get out of here.

Masterlist

[crownmemes]

Fringe Sentences, Vol. 2

(Sentences from Fringe (2008-2013). Adjust phrasing where needed)

"When was the last time your father told you he loved you?"

"You can't imagine what it's like for a man like me to not have access to parts of his mind!"

"I know I don't know you well enough to say this, but you haven't seemed yourself lately."

"The tension in your voice indicates that you're carrying a heavy psychic burden."

"Opium! Fantastic stuff!"

"Science and technology have reached a point where our means are finally catching up with our imagination, and the only thing preventing us from doing truly visionary work are these morally based restrictions that lawmakers put up in the name of public policy."

"Something's been bugging you all day, and that's okay. You know what? We're all allowed to have our bad days! But you know what's not fine? Blaming it all on me."

"I know that rationally he isn't responsible for all the bad things in the world, but he is responsible for some of them."

"Don't you see it? How beautiful it is?"

"We don't know each other well enough for you to say something like that to me."

"This may be something of an understatement, but you are not doing well."

"We need to discuss your father."

"It's good to see you again, despite the strange circumstances."

"Does he still have his head? Is it still attached to his body?"

"Perhaps in this case, death is merely an inconvenience."

"You never did lose well."

"I've never had a conversation with a dead guy before; forgive me if I don't know the rules!"

"You've not been doing this very long, have you?"

"The people I work with are loyal to the end. Can you say the same?"

"I have noticed that you have a habit of referring to me as if I were not in the room."

"The best lie - the one that's easiest to remember with consistency - is the one that's based on the truth."

"I expect more from you than the polite appearance of cooperation."

"In case you haven't noticed, I can be quite obsessive."

"If I can find you, then they can find you."

"A word of advice: don't pry into things you couldn't possibly understand."

"I see you didn't take me up on my offer to go see my tailor."

"I like this suit. It's always been lucky for me."

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I don't think about you all too often."

"Things like this used to happen in the lab all the time!"

"Does this look like a flu you've heard of? Where people's brains come out their ears?"

"Don't torture yourself with hypotheticals."

"I want a lawyer! Don't I get a lawyer?"

"Is it any consolation knowing you were right?"

"I don't underestimate my father, by the way. I understand him - sometimes more than I want to."

"I used to look up to you, but now? Now, you're pathetic."

"God, I hope I never have to hear you say the word 'nipple' again."

"Despite the thousands of questions I have in my head right now, I'm going to bite my tongue."

"I know it's against protocol, but right now, I frankly don't give a damn!"

[tiredly101]

Villains still need grocery too, y'know?

Pairing: Howdy Pillar x Villain!Male reader

Illustrated Au, this post was adopted from another account because they are deleting it soo I adopted it with permission of the original author, I did make some changes to adapt it to my writing style! Picture done by @clownsuu

Eggs. M/n needed eggs, badly. He had a brilliant idea to egg Home, that house had been getting on his nerves for a while now. Home had caused a ruckus whenever he’d spot M/n causing mayhem thus ruining some of his incredibly thought out pranks and so he decided to egg him.

Sure it may be unoriginal but sometimes the classics work the best and egging Home seemed like the perfect way to get him back for ruining such beautiful prank. The only problems is, the only way to get eggs is from Howdy. This would normally be no problem if one, Howdy didn’t know your very, very, extensive history of causing trouble and buying 50 eggs in one trip would definitely ring some alarm bells and two asking Howdy for that many eggs would be so embarrassing.

He would think you were a weirdo or maybe he didn’t have enough eggs and it would inconvenience him or perhaps M/n drops the eggs on the way out causing a mess. The idea of M/n making a fool of himself in front of Howdy was out of the question.

M/! was suffering until a brilliant idea popped in his head, he would send a letter to Howdy saying that one of the villagers overheard you wanted to bake a giant cake but didn’t have enough eggs so they wanted to deliver them to you, it was honestly a flawless plan.

That was until when M/n sent said anonymous letter to Eddie Dear for him to send off to Howdy, he decided to open it the second he got it. Which lead to a lot of confusion when the Wally Darling stood in his store buying a single apple seemed to request 50 eggs in his letter. Why wouldn’t Wally just ask while he was there?

"Hey Wally, do you just want your eggs now since your here?," Asked Howdy earning confused look from Wally.

"Eggs? What eggs, neighbour?," Wally asked with a dopey but perplexed look. "How odd...," Howdy thought.

If this letter wasn’t from Wally who could it be from? As the cogs in his brain started turning he came up with a solution, he’ll just come and give M/n the eggs himself! He had a bit of spare time and the shop was pretty quiet today so he decided he would grabs the eggs and bring them over to M/n house as a special delivery.

Howdy then started to make his way over with many crates in hands and he decided to peek through the window to see if M/n was at home. Instead he looked straight in to see a drawing pinned to the wall of a very familiar house with very obvious eggs covering it for head to toe or more specifically roof to floor and then it clicked. M/n wasn't making a cake, he wanted to egg Home and now he was very aware of your many pranks and mischievous deeds but actually seeing your plan he let out a sigh, he was looking forward to try your baking, he was sure it was great.

Although he had never been victim of one of your pranks, surprisingly may he add, he had seen and heard the results of many of them with the village constantly making a fuss and deciding that the prime gossip place was in his store. Howdy couldn’t stay mad at M/n though, although some pranks were more annoying than others he knew M/n never took it to far and quite frankly he found you rather sweet, always being on your best behaviour in his store.

Not to mention M/n was the most beautiful guy he ever encountered him but he couldn't be thinking of that right now, he should be telling M/n off for his evil plotting and as if by magic, sensing he was there, M/n opened the door.

Both, equally as shocked babbled messy excuses of what they were doing here although there was perfectly good reason for M/n to be in his house he still felt the need to tell him that he were plotting. Quickly realising his mistake M/n shut his mouth looking rather guilty until Howdy chuckled letting him know he knew what you were up to.

Shocked, mostly embarrassed, and guilty M/n profoundly apologised to him and instead Howdy just shushed you.

"It’s okay silly, just maybe instead of egging home make that cake? I’ll even help you with it," said Howdy and without hesitation M/n agreed leading Howdy into his house blushing as red as an apple and bringing out all you cake ingredients.

Part of M/n wanted this moment to last forever and the other part desperately wishing it would hurry up and end. The embarrassment was killing him but soon your worries melted away since as the cake was baking he took your hands in his and started swaying with M/n to music he had playing.

"Why do you never do any pranks in my shop?," Asked Howdy curiously while dancing softly with M/n and he smiled while looking up at him.

"Villains still need grocery too, y'know?," Said M/n which made Howdy smile softly and chuckle which made M/n's face be overtakes with a shy smile.

"Haha.. I think I prefer it when your not causing mayhem around the village, but then again it’s very endearing how silly you look when you do it," Howdy mumbled out catching both of them guard as if he didn’t mean to say it out loud. Howdy apologised quickly not wanting to offend M/n but he quickly reassured him with a soft kiss in his lips that you feel the same way.

"Perhaps villainy and entropy could wait if the alternative is happy moment like this with him"

[merinsedai]

It's my final bingo fill! Seems fitting it should be the final prompt.

for the @dreamlingbingo

Square/Prompt:E5- Cute Banter (+ adoptable prompt: Retired Dream)

Title: The Perils of Crib Gogh

Rating: G

Ship(s): Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Warnings: n/a

Additional Tags: mountain climbing, rightful fear of crib gogh, I wouldn't do it

Dream and Hob go mountain climbing, at Dream's insistence.

My final bingo fill! I dunno, 3 fills in 3 months then 22 in a week. That's just how I roll, gremlins. 🤷 (now I'm going to bed)

Sometimes, Hob really wonders what Dream is thinking when he decides to do these random (and frankly a little crazy) things. Dream had recently taken it into his head that he wanted to complete the Welsh 3000s (that is, climbing all 15 peaks in Snowdonia over 3000ft in 24 hours) despite never having before expressed any desire  to walk further than the nearest park in his past three years of being human. 

And Hob doesn’t know what he was thinking, indulging him so. Well, indulging him to a point, because there was zero chance that either of them were climbing 15 mountains in 24 hours, given the zero amount of experience or training between them. So instead he had talked Dream down to just going up Snowdon. “Surely conquering Wales’ tallest mountain is a good beginning?” He’d pleaded. And by some miracle (and perhaps a smidge of common sense squeezing its way into his brain) Dream had agreed.  

Now, standing overlooking the exposed and frankly terrifying Crib Gogh, Hob is having serious second thoughts. 

“Why have we come this way?” he demands, more of himself than of Dream, who he knows will pay not an ounce of attention to him. Hob is questioning many of his life choices right now. Mostly about his inability to say no to Dream. He should have said no to this foolishness, full stop. He should have said no, we need to work our way up to this. He should have said no, we can take the train instead. Same views at the end of the day! He definitely should have said no to Dream wearing unrelieved black walking gear because how were the mountain rescue people going to find him when he slips off the side of this godforsaken ridge? He supposes he should be thankful that Dream had condescended to even wear proper gear and hiking boots. and not his usual black skinny jeans and Docs. Thank heavens for small mercies. 

“We have come this way,” Dream answers, staring out over the ridge with a look at manic determination on his face, “Because conquering Crib Gogh is the only way to truly climb Yr Wyddfa.”

“We could be at home, and you could be climbing me instead!” Hob says, really quite seriously. Dream glances back at him with a wolfish grin.

“Later, Hob. I need to work up my appetite first.”

“You won’t have an appetite when you go careening down the side of that scree slope!”

“Come now, where’s your sense of adventure?”

“I left it back in the hotel- where incidentally there’s an exceptionally large and comfortable bed- along with your sense of self-preservation!”

Dream comes hopping nimbly back across the rocks to Hob’s side and pries one of his hands off the rock.

“It’s like you are glued on,” he says musingly, “Quite fascinating, we are not even near the edge. And here I thought I was meant to be the clingy one in this relationship?”

“Ha ha,” Hob says, though his smile is genuine. It is always so nice when Dream feels good enough to tease. “Can I help it that I was born in the Fens? No mountains there.”

“Well there is no snow in Jamaica, but did the Jamaican bobsleigh team let that stop them?”

“I can’t believe you’re using Cool Runnings against me.” Hob huffs as he lets himself be pulled to his feet and reluctantly follows Dream forwards, swearing under his breath as the full ridge unfolds beneath him. From this angle it looks exceptionally narrow and… ridge-y, and Hob is certain the wind is picking up just to mock him.  “Oh my god,” he whispers. 

“No, just your Dream,” murmurs his insufferably happy partner. “Now, best foot forward, that’s what you are always telling me. It’s time to live a little.”

“Live a little?! I’ll have you know I’ve lived a lot! And would very much like to continue doing so.”

“Yes,” Dreams says solemnly, “Your lack of a death wish is somewhat legendary.” He steps closer to Hob and runs his hands up his chest, smoothing over his shoulders and down his arms until he can interlink their fingers. “If you do this with me,” he promises, “Not only will I climb you as much as you desire later, I’l even buy you some fish and chips on the way back to the hotel. Extra salt and vinegar.”

This is less of an incentive for Hob than Dream is making it out to be, since he is the one who prefers fish and chips to almost any other meal. Still, the thought is there.

“Too much salt is bad for your heart,” Hob says, just to be slightly contrary. But Dream smiles at him, his eyes soft and warm.

“Ah, but you have always been so good for my heart, you have mended it so well and kept it safe,” he says quietly. “That I think I need a little badness to moderate the goodness now and then. Moderation is key, yes?”

What can Hob do but let Dream kiss him then? This beautiful, slightly mad creature that he gets to love? Then he lets him lead him over the pass and miracle of miracles, they survive and climb the rest of the way to the top. For once in Snowdonia the weather is fine, and though the mountaintop is crowded the views are worth it. Especially the view of Dream’s face as he stands on the summit and smiles into the sun.

They get fish and chips, of course, on their way back to the hotel. And if the hotel bed’s springs are a little worse for wear the next morning, well… perhaps it needed replacing anyway.

[13dollz]

i was struck by a fat brain worm earlier today and though it will never be a full fic (because I know my limitations as a writer lmao), i wrote this scene and i thought you guys would like it

603 words, mick/jim with background jim/corey, werewolf au, guys bein' dudes, wolf rut (but no a/b/o), internal monologue, violence mention

Mick sweats a lot performing, but it’s worst during his rut. The grease paint is running into his eyes, forming a wet layer between his face and the inside of the mask. His hair’s dripping like he just got out of the shower and he can even feel the sweat pooling in his ears. Truly every nook and cranny of him is shedding salt like it’s trying to fast-track him to a heart attack. 

He knew it was coming soon. It’s not like he has a little calendar for it or something, a man just knows. He’s not so stupid that the monthly cycle jokes go over his head though. 

It’s just that they’re on tour, and his girlfriend’s at home, and he doesn’t have the time, or frankly the patience, at the moment, to make arrangements. Which, y’know, means he has to resort to more…unsavory options. 

Sometimes Mick can’t believe this is what it comes to, but after a decade he supposes it just proves you can get used to anything. And really he has to remind himself it’s thoroughly preferable than sending someone to the hospital because they can’t take the wolf rut, which did happen one time. (You know, classic story. Plucky human girlfriend thinks she can take it, gets mad when Mick says she can’t, throws around words like “excuses for cheating”, pisses him off until he relents, ends up with a fractured pelvis, not to mention bites, claw marks, etc.) He tries not to think about that though. Mostly because his wolf brain wants to jack off to it. Surely, his wolf brain argues, getting sent to the hospital means pups, right? Because the wolf brain conflates violence with technique. And Mick isn’t sure how it can be part of his own brain and so completely fucking stupid but he has to remind the wolf that no, there will never be pups. Ever. Hospital or otherwise. 

Mick can feel the wolf rear his head more with every second. Thankfully, the set’s almost over and then he can go find Jim and beat the shit out of him. It’s not that he wants to fuck one of his best friends (even though it feels pretty fuckin’ great while he’s doing it, but they don’t talk about that), he’s just gonna kill someone if he doesn’t and Jim’s the only other wolf around.

Sometimes Mick wonders what the point of even having a werewolf girlfriend is if she can’t come with him on tour. She knows he has to make do sometimes. He just…doesn’t think she knows he’s fucking a guy. He’s not gonna tell her. Ever. She’d probably just ask to watch and really the fewer people that know about his and Jim’s arrangement the better. 

Mick knows Corey knows because one time Corey asked him if “fight club” was coming up and Mick almost knocked his teeth out. Jim told him. Of course he did, because they have some little arrangement of their own going on that Mick hasn’t quite figured out, cuz Corey doesn’t have any wolf in him (well, except Jim), but he would rather chop his dick off than ask. It’s the source of his problems anyway. 

But whatever thing they have going on works for him cuz it means he doesn't have to return the favor for Jim’s rut. Although he has before and they especially don’t talk about that, because he realized once you get past the feeling of a ridged baseball bat being shoved up your ass, it’s not half bad. 

Look. You gotta do whatcha gotta do. You help a brother out.

The end.

[comicaurora]

Hey I'm getting into DnD, do you have any podcast or series of a DnD campaign to recommend? I know there is critical role, but wich one of those should i start with? Is there a better beginning than critical role? I am lost here, please help

This is gonna very much depend on your personal preferences and attention span! I recommend sampling a range of DnD podcasts to find your personal tolerances and what parts appeal to you. I'm not the most widely-read person in this space because frankly most DnD podcasts are on too slow a boil for my attention span, but I've got a few you could check out-

Critical Role is the biggest and most well-known one for sure, but pacing wise I personally can't get through it. I love it in concept, but it's slow enough and huge enough that my brain zones out in the downtime and I lose track of important details when things speed up again. I think my first successful exposure to it was a brisk two-hour video that's just a Best Moments Of Grog compilation. That's also why I've been really liking The Legend Of Vox Machina, which keeps all the biggest and best moments but paces them like an actual story instead of a game. It's not representative of the experience of playing a TTRPG, but it is a lot of fun.

I personally enjoy limited-run miniseries a lot more, because they work better for my limited attention span, and on the critical role front that means I recommend EXU Calamity, a Doomed Heroes far-distant prequel to the modern setting of CR. Only four four-hour episodes and it's on a bit of a slow boil for the first three, but because everybody involved knows how the story's going to end, there's an endless drip of dramatic tension along the way. The DM, Brennan Lee Mulligan, is going to show up a lot more on this list.

On the subject of short miniseries DM'd by Brennan Lee Mulligan, Escape From The Bloodkeep is my personal favorite and the one I revisit the most. Six two-hour episodes, deeply unhinged and intrinsically comedic as it's a full-series parody of Lord of the Rings. I recommend it for a lot of reasons, not least of which being that Matt Mercer, who is an excellent DM, gets to play, and his playstyle is a great example of how to roll with the punches and the dice, since his extremely menacing nazghul captain is afflicted by a string of hilarious failures and he kind of just owns it, to the point where his character arc becomes accepting his worth as an individual with the power of friendship. It's a great example of not taking yourself or your character too seriously, which is a vital skill for players to learn in order to handle the whims of the dice sometimes (or often) not cooperating with your narrative wishes. If CR isn't working for you but you're interested in what you can pick up from this extremely talented DM, this is a good way to get that!

Dimension 20 (Collegehumor's DnD branch) has several series I really like, most of them DM'd by Brennan Lee Mulligan again. His DMing style really works for me, and he takes an approach to pacing that I quite like, so they're generally a safe bet for me. One I categorically recommend is The Unsleeping City, an urban fantasy DnD game set in New York City. This one is 19 two-hour episodes, so longer than the other miniseries but still much shorter than CR, and it can give you a bit of a sampler for (a) the genrebending you can do with DnD and (b) a longer-form story with a less rigidly determined finale than the previous examples. Brennan's DM style is very cool, and he puts an unusual amount of focus on characters getting solo vignettes, which is sometimes considered a bit gauche in DM circles because it means the other players don't have a whole lot to do during those solo conversations, but it works for him and his players and the effect is very cinematic!

But if you want to see a different DM's style in the same space, A Court Of Fey And Flowers is run by Aabria Iyengar, one of the EXU Calamity players, and she has a very different but also cinematic DMing style! The game is also a hybridization of DnD and a different system for facilitating Jane Austen romances, which is dope. Only the first episode is up on Youtube, but that should probably be enough to let you determine if you want to check out more.

I'd be remiss if I didn't at least mention the two DnD Actual-Plays I'm in, Rolling With Difficulty and Heart of Elynthi. Rolling with Difficulty is subdivided into three seasons of 8-10 four-hour episodes each, with each season having one overarching plot or threat but mostly being composed of episodic adventures - it's a Planescape series, meaning most episodes take us to a completely new plane of existence to deal with its unique geometry, fun denizens and wacky threats. It's also a lot more edited than some actual-play podcasts, with an effort to avoid the slow parts and the dice-rolling, mental math, "what am I gonna do this round," etc. Heart of Elynthi is an ongoing series that's only about five or six episodes in, with an overarching mystery in the background and a "collect the things to save the world" plotline in the foreground. It also streams new episodes on Twitch on (some) Wednesday afternoons, so if you'd benefit from a live chat to hang out and talk with during games, that might be worth checking out to see if you like it! Elynthi also has had some pretty cool behind-the-curtain stuff about how the players can handle in-character disagreements without them turning into IRL fights, which is something I don't think I've ever seen another DnD actual-play explicitly unpack but is also extremely important for players to consider, so that's fun.

[theomnicode]

How I write metas? A meta about metas

If this deconstruction post is going to be useful for any aspiring meta writer on this OPM fandom that I currently follow, then be my guest. :D

Warning: Semi-long post.

Step 1: Inspiration

Nope, really can't get into my head all the time to write stuff as much as I would love to but when I do, it's because I get a good inspiration from something. It does not really matter at this point if it's short or long, just the subject matters. Then if I get inspired, I will usually stew on that idea for a while and think about the points in the manga that fit.

Unfortunately inspiration does not strike all the time so there's always that. I'm going with the route that "you can't force inspiration to come to you, you want the inspiration to become you" or something like that. Take that with grain of salt, I just made it up on the spot.

Step 2: Practice

I've personally been writing fanfics since I was...a teen I believe and meta is just a subsection of writing school essays, except it's actually fun. So writing something has been quite a lot of work put behind it, but nobody says one cannot start from scratch today and the meta doesn't need to be immediately impressive, we're just writing it for fun yanno? For other fandom peeps who maybe wanna hear our thoughts. Just gotta start from somewhere yanno? My earlier metas are prolly a fair bit different than my current metas.

Like they say, practice makes perfect.

Step 3: The creative process

Ok so to the nitty gritty of the meta making... PLOT NO JUTSU!

I oftentimes either discuss the meta on discord channels with likeminded peeps and then start gathering some images from the manga to use as my images to enhance my point and make my texts also visually interesting to look at and make some clarifying points. I tend to find some good relative image to use as my first image because it'll show up in archive search like so:

It'll be easier to search for my metas even without searching for my tags from my archives if they look similar.

Next, I keep a folder for all my meta images in a neat pile and I use paint ms to cut me nice images to post into my meta and I also have cubari , the one site which hosts all the chapters so far, open where I can just grab images whenever. Basically any kind of image tool you got from paint to gimp to photoshop can help you crop images you want to use if you want to use images in your meta.

My brain can sometimes be pretty hard to follow apparently, so I do try to parse a lot when I write my texts and keep it somewhat coherent. Parsing information via the canon timeline can help form a coherent timeline to follow in a meta.

In general, you want your writing progress to be seamless and disturbance free creative process, not unlike drawing. Sometimes ambient music on the background can help focus on the actual meta writing process (currently listening to Ardenweald from WoW), which can take me from 1 hour to all the way to 5 hours in a single sitting, which is quite long but remember, tumblr drafts saves your progress even if you save it nowhere else and it's entirely possible to finish the thinking process another day when you have more time.

Sometimes I include links to either my own metas or some outside source, which I then briefly quote on my text, like in the Saitama mental health meta where I citate depression effects on memory recollection. The quote sources can also be stated at the very end like in a real essay, but to me personally I'm fine without the citations at the end, long as I state my sources and then put quotes into indented text.

Step 4: The writing itself

Paraphrasing helps make your text look coherent and easier to read to just about anybody, so avoid pure walls of texts. I usually write longer texts, but that is up to the writer to decide how short, long or how abridged they can/wanna make their work, which frankly is not one of my best skillsets lmao. Just gotta make sure to put that warning in the front if it's long post.

Nowdays, I also include chapter names and numbers about the relevant information I'm writing meta about in between () marks and itallics to further separate it from plain text, which might be helpful to people if they search for that specific plot point from the manga itself. Then if it's a particularly long meta, a tl;dr at the bottom if I can form a proper tldr.

Sometimes I also get struck by random thought and I just have to write it out haha. Sometimes I ask for aid and opinions on discord channels.

Any long metas should definitely have that "readmore" cutoff in the beginning, else entirety of tumblr or wherever you'll post the meta will hate you.

Step 5: Revision & Tagging

You can hold on from posting the meta the very same day and just keep it revised for a bit longer if you want to correct spelling mistakes or if you think you can maybe adds some more to it. Revision is just as important in writing meta as in writing something like fanfiction and I personally do a fair bit of both.

When tagging, I just use "opm meta" for all my opm related metas and then tag in fandom and characters that apply to the current meta and then some other related subjects like "mental health, character study" etc. I prolly haven't tagged my earlier metas that properly but eh... if you write on another platform and then copypaste it to tumblr, make sure that the plain text shows properly and doesn't create any weirdness.

Closing thoughts...that's about it folks, that's how I write meta and how I wrote this piece as well. Which took me roughtly 1hr 45mins to write down at my current writing speed but I've been thinking about this since yesterday haha.

Tl;dr: Inspiration, practice, creative process by saving images and thoughts as they go, writing and paraphrasing, revision and tagging properly.

[asteria7fics]

I've got a few questions for ya! Where did you learn to write like you do? I read through your newest fic and I'm blown away from how could you write!

And the other question I have, do you ever get worried? I hurt my brain and went down the SP confession rabbit hole, and now I'm worried about my writing now. I'm afraid of falling into tropes and writing these characters to be one dimensioned. How do you get past that?

First of all, thank you!! I never really know how to react when people compliment my writing as a whole, because truthfully I’m still very insecure about the way I write! It really does help to hear that people enjoy my writing style! (,,> ᴗ <,,)

I have a couple of answers to your first question. Learning to write has been a weird process for me if I’m being honest. I’ve always been told that reading is the best way to learn, and while I think reading lots of different things is a huge factor in being able to write confidently, there’s really no substitute for actually doing the thing.

I’ve always loved storytelling, but only really began writing stories down in middle school. Then I started finding RP partners online, and spent several years writing all kinds of stories and absorbing tons of skills from those people.

I’ve also spent an embarrassing amount of time listening to people talk about writing. Story structure, character development, all that jazz. There are several really great YouTube channels that discuss different writing techniques that I’ve taken bits and pieces from throughout the years.

Writing style is a very personal thing though, and while I’ve learned a lot from the way other people write, I’ve also spent a lot of time experimenting with my own voice. I’ve drafted tons of unfinished projects just to see what perspectives I enjoy writing from the most, or what sort of narrative voice I prefer to have. As you may glean from both TSOB and EWILY, I tend to take on a sort of sarcastic tone as a narrator, and for the most part I do that because that’s just kind of how I talk! I’m a smart ass by nature I’m afraid, though I think it also works well in the context of the sillier stories I tend to tell with my SP inspired works.

To answer your second question, yes! I’m always worried that my interpretations of certain characters won’t be enjoyed by the greater fandom, especially as someone who tends to not really vibe with a lot of really popular head canons. My solution to that? I pretend not to care!

Seriously though, I have spent a truly, horribly embarrassing amount of time studying these characters. Between watching the show, playing the games, listening to the episode commentaries, watching character analysis videos on YouTube (I’m a Johnny2Cellos girly myself), and reading some really, really good fan fiction I have put in the time to feel at least a little bit confident in my characterization of the main four boys, and sometimes Butters.

The fun thing about SP is that even Those Bastards play pretty fast and loose with their characterization, though.

Characters like Cartman who tend to have very consistent traits are usually the easiest for me to write. When I ask myself the question “how would Cartman respond to this?” the answer is usually whatever the worst possible response I can think of would be. Then I dial it back a little bit because I’m not trying to get cancelled.

But characters like Stan or Kyle are a lot more fluid. Sometimes they care very deeply about things, sometimes they don’t give a single shit. Sometimes they support one another through everything, sometimes they’re very quick to part ways. Characters like this can be really challenging, especially when you have them alongside characters who are often so cartoonishly villainous like Cartman.

My best advice for writing any characters, but especially for these particular characters, is to lean into their positive traits and flaws equally.

Cartman is actually a great example of this. He’s bigoted, crass and quite frankly kind of terrifying if you think about the things he’s done for more than thirty seconds. But he’s also extremely creative, pretty smart when he wants to be and, in many instances, is shown to actually care about his friends. Balancing all of these traits can be challenging, but it can also result in a more fleshed out, well rounded character.

Another character I see a lot of discourse about is Butters. To avoid making him too ‘uwu sweet baby’, as I often see it said, I balance a few things with him. Yes, Butters is generally very kind and sensitive to others’ feelings, but he’s also extremely gullible and can be a real asshole when he’s around the wrong people for long enough.

Of course, you don’t need to take my advice as gospel. I’m someone who has tried to keep the characters pretty close to canon (less so in EWILY than I did in TSOB, truthfully), but I’ve seen many incredibly written, extremely interesting SP fics that throw much of canon in the trash. Do what feels right for you and helps you to express the kinds of stories you want to tell!

At the end of the day, if you write for you and you enjoy the content you’re creating, then it shouldn’t matter what anyone else thinks of the interpretations you make. I especially don’t take anything on confession blogs personally, because if one of my head canons really offends someone they can talk to me about it. (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

Thank you so much for this ask! I had a lot of fun thinking about my own journey with writing these fics, and I hope some of my advice will be helpful for you! Much love, anon! ♡⸜(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)⸝♡

[clowngames]

i’m a game dev student at an art school and i’ve been really struggling with finding my niche…. i LOVE being a environment/modeler/texture artist, and i want to have more skills in the design/tech side… but i’ve been struggling really hard with learning unreal engine 5 for my classes. do you have any experience in unreal5 blueprinting or just anything more on the tech side? i would appreciate some advice to get through these tough college quarters :’D

Whenever someone entering gamedev on the programmer side is struggling to figure it out, there are generally two reasons for this.

The first is that they're struggling to get into the programmer mindset. Blueprints try to bridge the gap, but code doesn't work like english. It doesn't even work like the human brain. When we think or talk we take shortcuts to formulate or convey ideas because we can trust that when it comes time to interpret those ideas another person (or ourselves in the future) will fill in those gaps. This is so intuitive to us that we don't even notice that there are gaps. Programming forces you to become aware of how many gaps there are and fill them, and quite frankly it's a humbling experience.

I'm probably not saying anything you don't already know, but I want to emphasize that the way coding works is unintuitive to most people and we need to retrain our way of thinking to get good at it. This is unfortunately not a fast process. It's very common especially for new programmers (though I'm not immune even now) to go "I'm a fucking idiot, I'm a fucking idiot, I'm a fucking--I'M A GENIUS" because of the cycle of shit not working for stupid reasons and then finally working.

The second problem is that they're unfamiliar with (and overwhelmed by) the library they're working with.

A "library" in a programming context is typically collection of functions and objects you can import into a project, but each game engine has its own built in libraries which the engines are built around. These are the verbs and nouns that aren't built into, for example, C++, but have been added by Unreal Engine to make it easier to make games.

The better the game engine, the larger the library. Unfortunately, the larger the library the more overwhelming it is because that's a lot of shit to learn.

In your case anon the "library" would refer to the different kinds of nodes you can add to the blueprint. When you're new to it, even an expert Unity dev will struggle in Unreal because they don't know what their options are to accomplish things.

Now the reason I break down the new-programmer hurdles into two distinct problems is because they often seem like one problem, which can make it hard to solve. Both get better with experience so sometimes slamming your head against a wall is a viable way to get through them, but it's not the best.

If you think your main issue is the first problem, you can work on it through "exercise." This can be in the form of taking programming courses on codecademy (I'd recommend C++ since you're using Unreal, though C# isn't a bad choice) or by playing a game by Zachtronics like Infinifactory or Opus Magnum. These games are "programming puzzle games" and I can personally attest to having gotten better at Infinifactory as I got better at programming.

If you think it's the second problem, the biggest solvent is curiosity. When I get into a new engine, I spend a bit of time learning how it works and then immediately try and figure out how to do dumb shit in it. I made an incremental game in RPG Maker just to see if I could. It wasn't good, but it was a fun educational experience. Sometimes I'll come across a function I don't understand, and I'll open the engine's manual and read about the function and use that as a jumping off point to dive into similar functions.

It doesn't feel good for my advice to be "read the manual" but genuinely there's a point where you realize that you're reading the manual instead of watching youtube videos and it's like, holy shit I'm a real programmer. It's a sign that you're getting comfortable enough in the role that you're learning what questions to ask to figure out what you need to know (youtube is still a great resource of course).

All of that said though, if your aim is to be an environment artist I think it's okay to be bad at programming. Survive college, of course, but if you're in a team with a dedicated programmer (which you will be if you are not the programmer) then all you need is to be able to understand how to communicate with the programmer. It's really beneficial to know enough about the fundamentals of what you're working in to know what info the programmer needs from you and what info you need from them, but you don't have to be good at it to do that!

[gummydummy19]

Not now

Summary: You and Steve are major enemies with benefits. You can hardly be in the same room together, let alone an elevator...

Content Warnings: smut, mean Steve, angst, fluffy ending (you know me), LANGUAGE!

A/N: This fic is one of my favorites out of everything i've ever written. Almost a year after losing my first blog, including most of my fics, I was able to recover it :)) I hope you enjoy

Word Count: 3.4K+

It had been a long, exhausting day. You weren't even supposed to go on any more missions until next week, but Fury decided to wreck your Friday and send you on your hardest mission yet. Your body ached and you just wanted to crawl into your bed as soon as possible. So when you saw Steve approaching the elevator, you silently prayed the doors would close before he got in. You just couldn't deal with him right now. Not now.

Of course, luck wasn't on your side today. Steve pushed his muscular arm in between the doors just as they were about to close, joining you in the space that suddenly felt too small.

He smirked widely when you noticeably rolled your eyes.

"In a hurry?" he asked.

"Just tired." You dryly stated.

"Yeah, I can tell. You look like shit" He teased.

To be quite honest, you were fairly sure Steve hated you way more than you actually hated him, but you weren't about to let him know that.

You and Steve started this whole enemies with benefits thing a while ago, and somewhere along the way, you starting finding it harder and harder to keep up the hating game.

Sometimes you just wanted someone to talk to, to watch a movie with, to hold you after you'd a long day like this.

Admittedly, hating each others guts resulted in some mind blowing sex. Steve might be an arrogant ass most of the time, but he was still the best you've ever had, and you didn't wanna throw that away just because you were getting a little needy. So you decided to just suck it up and stick with what you did best, annoying him until he fucked you stupid.

And it had been working out just fine, but today you were exhausted with an extra dose of PMS, and he looked so good in his white cotton shirt, he had been growing out his beard lately and his hair was a little messy.

You could barely look him in the eye, desperately trying to come up with a snarky response, but your brain failed you as the only thing you could think of was how good it would feel to be in his arms right now.

He frowned, clearly confused and quite frankly annoyed at your lack of sass.

A groan rumbled in his chest and in one quick movement, his fist hit the emergency button, making the elevator halt.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" You snapped

"ME? What the hell is wrong with YOU? Did I fuck you stupid last time? What's going on?" He yelled.

Steve had noticed the change in your behavior lately, and he didn't like it.

His words made a blush creep up your neck and you silently cursed your body for betraying you.

You knew Steve thrived off your attitude. You were the only one who ever questioned his authority, it kept him on his toes.

He took a step closer to you and you immediately took a step back, not knowing if you could do this much longer.

Desperately trying to match his stern energy you snapped back at him.

"Why the fuck do you even care?? Talk about being fucking pussy whipped, Rogers."

"That's what you'd like, huh? For me to fuck you again?" Steve inched closer to you as you tried your best to ignore how wet your panties got from his voice alone.

"In your dreams, asshole." You turned around and hit the button again, making the elevator restart.

You felt his heavy chest push against your back and all you could do was stare at your shoes and pray to whatever was good and holy that this stupid elevator would just hurry the fuck up already.

Strong hands crept up your sides, breath hot against the exposed skin of your neck. The body heat radiating off this man made it hard to think straight.

Gathering all your willpower, you softly shoved your elbow in his ribs, shaky arm pushing against his torso trying to get him to move.

"Get off me, Steve." Your tone almost had him believing you actually didn't want this.

Almost.

"Not until you tell me who shoved a stick up your ass." his voice was low and raspy, tingling against the shell of your ear.

He stopped the elevator for a second time.

"Steve, I'm serious, cut it out!" You groaned, before pushing the button again.

"So am I?" he continued and his hand moved towards the button yet again.

"Would you stop?! You're acting like a child!" you yelled, trying to get the upper hand as the small metal cage rumbled.

The poor emergency stop must have been hit damn near a dozen times as you and Steve continued your pointless bickering.

Suddenly, the entire elevator shook and came to an abrupt stop, making you cling to Steve's side for balance.

The lights flickered out and the buzzing noise that usually lingered around was gone.

You pushed Steve off you and desperately tried hitting a couple buttons.

Nothing.

"Look what you fucking did!" you screamed at him.

"Me?" he yelled.

If looks could kill, Steve Rogers would be dead on the floor of that elevator right now.

A thick, deafening silence settled in between the two of you, and you let out a breath you didn't know you had been holding. Dropping your gaze to the floor, you let your shoulders hang, rubbing your hands over your face in exhaustion.

You turned around, staring at the buttons.

Fed up and extremely done with this stupid situation, tears started welling in your eyes.

The emergency lights had gone on. You checked your phone. Of course there was no reception and it was late already, everyone else had gone to bed on their own floor and there was no way they'd hear you all the way from here.

"Perfect. Just perfect." You muttered.

Fresh out of fucks to give, you finally let the numb feeling you had been trying to push away all day take over your body. You slid down the wall, sitting with your knees drawn up and your fingers tangled in your hair as Steve just stood there and watched.

"should have taken the fucking stairs," he mumbled.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath.

You were utterly exhausted, your body ached. All you wanted was a hot shower and some sleep, and now you were trapped in this stupid elevator and you had to look at Steve's stupid cranky face all night. Any other day you would have given him his crap right back, but not today. Not now.

Simply lacking the energy to be your usual sassy and confident self, you let out a shaky sigh.

"I'm so fucking tired." You finally muttered. If it wasn't for the deafening silence surrounding you, he probably wouldn't even have heard it.

Making eye contact with him was impossible at this point. And even if you had it in you to look him in the eye right now, the thick tears that started welling blurred your sight.

"Oh great, now she's fucking crying." Steve groaned, more to himself than to you.

You rolled your teary eyes at his typical arrogance. But when he took an awkward step closer, you pointed your finger at him.

"Don't even think about coming near me right now, Rogers." You warned.

Steve smirked at the remark, finally catching a glimpse of the snarky woman he was secretly so crazy about.

To your surprise, he moved closer and sat down beside you, raising his arm to invite you in his embrace.

"Come here."

You glared up at him.

"You don't have to prete-" you yipped as Steve cut you off mid-sentence, yanking you against his chest and draping his arm around you.

He just held you as a few silent tears escaped your eyes. Finally relaxing in his embrace, you let his warmth surround you.

The steady sound of his heartbeat brought you a weird sense of peace, which you welcomed nonetheless. There was something about him, about being this close to him. You couldn't put your finger on it, but it melted away your anxiety like snow in the sun.

A comfortable silence settled in between the two of you as you sniffled quietly against his chest.

You felt his eyes burning against your face but you couldn't bring yourself to return his gaze. In all honestly, this was probably the most embarrassing moment of your life.

Clearing your throat, you pulled away from him and gave his chest a few awkward pats.

"Alright, thanks," you said, before scooting a few inches to the other side.

As much as you hated to acknowledge it, being away from him even a few inches filled you with a slight cold, empty feeling. And you had to go against every fiber in your body not to scoot closer and snuggle up against him again.

A shiver ran through your body as you forced yourself to stare at anything but Steve, when suddenly a soft, heavy, blanket-like piece of fabric was throw at your feet.

Steve's jacket.

You thought about telling him you didn't need it, but soon realized that would be pointless as he would probably argue with you until you took it anyway, so you picked up the jacket and wordlessly wrapped it around your shoulders.

The intoxicating smell of his cologne and his mints mixed with his natural warm musky scent invaded your nostrils and made a heat run through you, warming you from the inside out.

A weird sense of comfort took over your body. The urge you had to be held and taken care of bubbled up again and you let Steve fill that void. You knew it wasn't real. He didn't want to be here. But he was. And you were going to enjoy his warmth for as long as you could.

You must have dosed off because next thing you know you felt your body being shoved aside, abruptly waking you from your slumber.

Finally you guys got here! She was starting to drool on my shirt." Steve's arrogant voice spoke to Sam and Bucky, who has apparently found you in the elevator.

You knew it was too good to last. At least now you could go to your room and get some rest. Alone.

You slowly sat up, blinking the sleep from your eyes as you gaped at the three men in front of you. The smell of Steve was still heavy on you. Before any of the men could say anything you threw the jacket of you and scrambled out of the elevator. Running through the hallway to your room, wanting nothing more then for this day to just be over with already.

"hey hey hey, wait!" Steve's voice boomed through the hallway as you looked for your keys, rolling your eyes.

"Oh for fucks sake, does he ever take a break?" you mumbled to yourself.

"Looking for these?" he asked, dangling your keys in front of you with a smug look on his face.

You groaned, reaching for the keys only to have them pulled away at the last second. It was quiet between the two of you for a beat, before you lunged for the keys again, failing miserably.

Okay. now you were pissed.

Steve looked at you with a shit eating grin, raising his arm straight above his head. Okay. now you were pissed.

Steve looked at you with a shit eating grin, raising his arm straight above his head.

"Come on, Princess." he teased, "come and get them"

There was no way in hell you could reach that far up. You knew it. He knew it. He just wanted to see you try. See you jump for him like a little kid trying to get the stuffy at the fair.

And you actually debated it. For a split second, you debated it.

Nope.

Not today, Rogers.

You were done. Done with this day. Done with these games. Done with him.

You scraped together every ounce of dignity you had left and turned on your heals, walking away from him.

You got halfway through the hall before you heard him chuckle.

"And where are you going now, huh?" he questioned, obviously very amused.

"To sleep in Bucky's room." you simply said, not even bothering to turn around. You didn't need to see his face to know the grin had fallen.

"The hell you are." you heard him mumble, suddenly way closer to you as you heard his heavy footsteps approach.

Before you could even comprehend what was happening Steve had you tossed over his shoulder.

“What the-…PUT ME DOWN” you tried to wriggle your way out of his grasp but your already exhausted body just wouldn’t work with you. And perhaps your needy brain didn’t mind being wrapped in Steve’s arms…even if you were dangling upside down.

You heard a door slam behind you and realised you had entered a bedroom, but it wasn’t yours…oh no this was Steve’s room. You could recognise it from the scent alone…

He put you down the second the door fell shut and walked over to the bed. He didn’t sit down, he just stood there…looking you straight in the eyes.

You stared at him from across the room, arms crossed, trying your best to appear stern despite the fact that the entire room smelled of him and it was making you want to crawl up in a ball on the floor, like a cat waiting to be cuddled.

"come here." he said, voice calm yet commanding.

"Bite me "

"I said come here."

"And I said bite me."

"If you come here then maybe I will."

You rolled your eyes but did as he said.

"Now what?" You asked in the most pissed-off voice you could muster.

Steve saw right passed your bratty behaviour, knowing exactly what you needed from him. He grabbed your wrist and before you knew it, you were wrapped against him with your back pressed to his muscular chest.

"Now you let me make you feel good, sweetheart." his warm minty breath caressed the shell of your ear, making the hair at the back of your neck stand up as goosebumps started to spread all the way down to your spine.

Steve slowly walked you both to the bed, arms still holding you at the wrists crossed on your lower belly.

When your knees hit the bed he let go of your hands, not allowing you to go far as he immediately grabbed your shirt and slowly pealed it over your head. A soft growl erupting from deep within his throat when he discovered you weren't wearing a bra.

You spun around in his grip, and a small moan escaped you right before you attached your lips to his. Your fingers pulled at the back of his hair while his found their way to your awaiting breasts.

Thoroughly enjoying each other's embrace, your impatient fingers moved down his torso and tugged at his shirt. Feeling his lips curl into a smile against yours let you know he got the message. Within the blink of an eye, his shirt was gone and his lips were back on yours, devouring you as if you were his very last meal.

When you were both breathless, he spun you back around. He pressed gentle yet firm kisses on your nape. His big, strong hands held you up by your upper arm as his furry chest pressed against your bare back.

"Lay down for me, Princess." his gruff voice vibrated against your shoulder.

Steve slowly pushed you down on the bed, holding your hips steady so your ass was up in the air. He peppered your entire back with soft, warm kisses. Not leaving an inch of your body untouched. Your face was planted in the soft cotton sheets below you and you felt your entire body relax. Steve's plump lips moved down to your lowers back and started kissing along the curve of your hip as his large hands roamed your ass. Just as you noticed you had begun to smile to yourself, you got pulled from the cloud you were happily floating on by a sharp pain on your behind.

"AH!! Did you just bite me?!"

"'I'm a man of my word darling."

Before you could scramble away from him he licked a firm stripe up your pussy, all the way from your clit to your asshole. You let out a desperate moan that quickly turned into a squeal as Steve flipped you over on your back. He wasted no time in attaching his soft lips to your dripping pussy once again and absolutely devouring you with all he had.

One of his hands came up to play with your boobs. Squeezing the soft flesh and tugging at your nipples blindly while his head stayed buried in between your thighs. He moved his hand to yours and linked your fingers together as he passionately ate you out. Your other hand came to scratch through his hair, enjoying the feel of his fluff locks between your fingers.

Keeping his one hand intertwined with yours, he moved his other one to play with your pussy. His thumb stroking your clit while his tongue licked in between your folds. God he loved the taste of you, he simply couldn't get enough.

Your moans got louder and your hips started bucking against his bearded jaw. Every square inch of your body was on fire.

Steve switched his hand and tongue placement, moving his mouth up to lick your clit while sliding his middle finger inside of you, pumping a few times before adding a second one, curling them perfectly against your g-spot as he kept licking your clit.

"Fuck Steve I'm gonna cum!" you screamed. "You're gonna make me cum! You're gonna...I'm gonna...Oh fuck..fuck, please! Don't fucking stop...ah!"

And he didn't, not even taking a break to reply to your pleas, he kept eating you out until you were shaking and cumming all over his face.

Blinking away tears until they rolled down your cheeks, you tried to calm down your breathing as you laid there trembling on his bed.

"What do you need, princess." Steve finally spoke, sitting up between your legs and softly stroking your thighs.

It took a while for your breathing to calm down, you didn't even know why you were crying to be honest. You just felt like you were experiencing a lot of emotions at once, and it was pretty intense.

"A fucking hug." you finally spoke.

Steve chuckled at your reply before scooting over to sit next to you, leaning against the headboard.

"Come here."

Slowly, you crawled into his open arms, curling up against him into a ball with your head right under his pecs, leaning on his abs.

Surprisingly, Steve was very soft and sweet, not at all what he was usually like with you.

He rubbed your back and just laid there with you, enjoying each others warmth and the comfortable silence that had settled in the room.

You couldn't help but let out more tears, softly sniffling into his chest as you clung to him.

"shhh" he whispered comfortingly, pressing a few kisses to the top of your head. "It's okay, l'm here. And you did so so good."

For the next few minutes Steve just held you, until you were ready to talk to him about what exactly it was that got you so overwhelmed.

After some time, you sat up and just looked at Steve. At his eyes, his nose, his mouth.

You leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against his lips.

"Thanks," you said.

"For the orgasm?" he joked, trying to get rid of some of the tension.

"For the care," you replied, meaning what you said.

Your eyes fell on the clear bulge in his pants.

"Want me to do something about that, Cap?" you smiled.

"Nah, not today sweetheart." He said, pulling you closer.

You didn't even know what to say. Never in your life have you expected Steve to be so caring, especially not for you.

"If you want you can take a shower here, I'll lend you something comfy to sleep in," he suggested, leaving you even more stunned.

"Okay who are you and what have you done with Steven Rogers."

At first he chuckled at your reaction, but then his face grew a little more serious.

"I wanna be here for you for more than just fucking. The whole cat and mouse game was fun while it lasted, but seeing you the way I saw you today, so exhausted you could barely stand up straight. I never wanna see you like that again, baby. Unless of course, it's my doing." he added smugly before pressing another kiss to your lips.

"There he is again." you chuckled against his lips.

After some more kisses and giggles, you decided to accept Steves's offer and take a long hot shower, followed by some much-deserved cuddles and a movie you never saw the end of because you drifted off, happily snuggled against his chest.

Taglist;

@metalbuckaroo

@princessayveke

@montsepliego

@scxrletrecsmarvel

@hopelesslyrogers

@eclecticpatrolroadlawyer

@tfandtws

@vicmc624

@ahahafudge

@enchantedbarnes

@wickedravyn

@pono-pura-vida

@amayaraestyles

@matchat3a

@fictional-hooman

@sebastianexplicit

@peaches1958

[sunstranded]

INTJ: Maintenance

To hell with this. Nothing irritates me faster than the slight inconvenience with an aftertaste of bitter regret that I should have taken better care of a thing that should just always keep working. How do Si-users deal with this... this troublesome and repetitive task? This is the ball and chain to everything I walk for.

I honestly captured all of what I want to say about maintenance in the prompt above because when I don't like and absolutely disdain something, I don't compliment it by complaining and making a tumblr post about it. Except I am doing exactly that. Almost every time.

Well anyway, maintenance is the worst inevitable for me. The way my brain works is I trust myself too much to remember I have to do some maintenance work that I don't.

So this is mostly me being in AWE that ISTJs are ingenious in this thing and they enjoy it?! What torturous reality must they have lived to have been curated to enjoy keeping the insides of each key of their keyboard clean and lubed, mowing the lawn so consistently, and even (it hurts me to say this) know and feel something is wrong just by the sound it makes?

Nothing makes me feel incomprehensibly stupider than asking an ISTJ to help me fix the thing I've overused beyond its limit. Being subjected to my own poison of "i told you so" by an ISTJ really cripples me into humility.

I think people don't understand the humor in ISTJ and INTJ dynamic enough. We're rivals telling each other "I told you so" in aspects we are both weak at. We're also equally reluctant to admit we are bested. In the shortest way to put it, we are both petty and we know it.

Enough about my dynamic with ISTJs and more about maintenance. I would obviously say I am a neat person. I clean my house, I fix plumbing when needed, I even clean my keys but I don't have a lawn to mow (and quite frankly won't ever want to have one).

I just don't remember to keep doing it. I just don't prioritize the task. I do sometimes (most of the time) belittle the importance of the task to the point I unconsciously wait for it to become a problem and actually be happy at the problem to solve (i.e. the old toilet situation that made me learn some basic plumbing fixing).

Using Si to me is so... it almost deteriorates my brain and accelerates my aging. I remember telling someone to do a task for me because the tutorial was so appealing to Si (direct instructions with no explanations) that I just could not last a minute without feeling like I lost an arm.

Obviously an over exaggeration, but goodness me. I do not revel at the fact I learn nothing about a design and only make the design. If you want me to go out of my bat cave convince me and don't tell me to walk out through the damned doors. It's a cave!

A quick and slightly more unserious post. I ought to show some humor for myself in the future.

[ziskandra]

💞 🕯️ and 🎀 for the fic writer asks <3

💞what's the most important part of a story for you?

I think what's most important to me is the narrative (which to me is different to the plot, especially as I often write shorter works). Every time I write something, I tend to ask myself (in one way or another)

why am I writing this story (is it for an event? another gift? am I unable to contain my blorbo brainrot? am I trying to make sense of canon? etc.)

why am I writing this story (as opposed to the multitudes of other things I could be writing)

why am I writing this story (what part of myself am I sharing with the world? How do the emotions and events resonate with me?)

Sometimes the answer is as simple as '"friend things character X is sexy and I want to make friend happy :)" and other times, it's a bit more complicated than that 😅 🕯️ was there a fic that was really hard on you to write, or took you to a place you didn't think it would take you? Oh gosh, I think the fic that had the biggest unexpected affect on me was the blackest night, the kid!meredith fic I wrote for @debts-to-the-dead for the neurodiversity flash last year! Ever since @venatohru and I tumbled into the depths of Meredith hell last year, we'd talked about how Meredith's sister Amelia displays a lot more... stereotypical autistic traits, for lack of a better word, and that eventually led to us discussing how Meredith herself could also quite easily be read as autistic (albeit with a different presentation). And as a sensory-seeking, socially confident autistic myself, I wanted to explore this depiction more in fiction... hence the fic! What I was not as aware of at the time was that one of the reasons Meredith really resonates with me is the survivor guilt: how do I stop something like this happening again? How can I prevent others from feeling that pain? How can I save myself from feeling this pain again? It is especially poignant to me that Amelia was Meredith's older sister, because the person I lost was also like an older sister to me, and I feel like that's a dynamic that's not explored as much when it comes to depicting grief in fiction. Often it's dealing with the loss of a younger sibling, or a much-idolised older sibling. But I feel especially with a close-fin-age older sibling, there's still that feeling of "I should have been able to do something", but it's coupled with that frankly terrifying and overwhelming realisation of "if the Actual Adults couldn't do anything, then what could I have done?" But instead of the thoughts cancelling each other out as they should, it just results in despair x 2. Because, like, what do you do when the person who you've known your entire life is no longer there any more? What if it's someone who was both a great source of love and also pain? What if your parents compared you so often you barely knew where you ended and they began? And then... they're just. Gone. my own experiences with grief were just. something I kind of tiptoed around until I started working on that fic, and as I wrote it it's like every repressed feeling I had about the situation just rushed into my brain at once and oh boy. I think if it hadn't been for an exchange, I would have just been like, "okay, not thinking about that for a few years", but because it was, and the minimum was small, I knew I could put together something that didn't poke the most tender of the feelings as hard. but yeah. writing that little fic actually made me able to put my feelings into words for myself which then enabled me to like. actually talk to my psychologist about it and get. actual help and support. ✨healing✨

🎀give yourself a compliment about your own writing I'll keep this short because I rambled so much above 🙈. I think my best qualities as a writer are writing engaging in-character dialogue, as well as describing powerful emotions in simple words! [fic writer asks]

[ren3gade]

I liked the different body/voice options in Cyberpunk 2077 a lot. "i haven't liked a character creator this much since saint's row 3" i said.

What I did not expect was for my male-body female-voice V to be called "she" by everyone, including V's (apparently longtime) best friend.

That added a... we'll call it a layer. lol. normally, when a game like this throws me a curve ball characterization wise my brain makes a few calculations (including ignore or accept) and we move on with life.

but ngl this is kind of a big one

i guess in retrospect i just feel stupid i didn't somehow anticipate this problem even though i can honestly say that i never, in the year of our lord 202x, ever considered a character in a game this complex would be gendered by voice. ever. so now I'M the dummy somehow

this game has had a few patches. i think they're up to, what, 1.6? so this is a conscious design choice for a game that has the word "cyberpunk" in the title

the voice also locks out the characters i was interesting in romancing.

i could roll a new character but here's the thing: i don't trust them now. not only do i not trust them, my v did nothing wrong. V is not the problem here. the problem is everyone else in the game and quite frankly, that IS sometimes how the world works.

you know what? fuck it. layer accepted.

oh and it's cd project red from now on. i just really think we should just spell it the right way, to avoid confusion. the other way is kind of arbitrary and hard to remember? i think it might even upset people. this way will be better for everyone, so we can all get along.