#foaming at the mouth i cant wait for it to come out

[sunbloomdew]

i sure HOPE it is!!

[witherfide]

i was in shock when i saw them in the trailer.. MY HYPERFIXATION HAS BEEN EATING GOOD THIS WEEK <333

i just hope they have more screen time than in the last game..

all i know for sure is that they have MORE LINES!!! i can’t begin to tell you how many hours I’ve spent reciting their lines OVER and OVER again :,) kellen goff is truly a great voice actor and his performance is what made me obsessed with the daycare attendant in the first place!!

I can’t wait to see whether or not i’ll be shitting myself while trying to run away from this little guy or if we’ll be making friendship bracelets in the wreckage of the pizzaplex teehee ^^

[bongwaterbunny]

i did NOT expect my last halsin post to blow up- i mean seriously i was just horny and posted some thoughts but THANK YOU???

anyways. heres my humble offering in hopes to appease the gods (@strawzumie and @im-eating-rn)!!

cw: facesitting, pussydrunk halsin, fem!tav, d/s dynamic, overstimulation, lmk if i missed any lol ive been foaming at the mouth over this little thought

halsin has ALWAYS been a service dom. like he doesnt even THINK about cumming until you've already finished all over his fingers or his tongue, maybe even multiple times! he just loves the sweet little noise you make when you're overstimulated. he loves the squeals and whines that leave your lips, how you mutter his name under your breath? nothing sounds better to him.

"keep singing like that and you'll make the birds jealous, my heart" but how can he expect you to be quiet when he wont even let you hide your face?? insisting he needs to see that look in your eye when you cum AGAIN, swatting your quivering hands away when you tug a pillow up to your mouth, the man is so mean sometimes! cant he see how flustered you are?

god he loves the taste of you too. he's perfectly happy to eat you out until the sun comes out again, until you're crying so loudly that the entire camp can hear just how beautiful you sound with his lips flush against your cunt, nose nudging your puffy little clit every time you squirm!

and when i say facesitting i mean faceSITTING. you barely even have the chance to hear his throaty chuckle when you hover over his face until his hands snake around your thighs, pushing you down with such force youre worried that he cant breathe! i mean, the way his eyes glaze over and you can notice them cross doesnt really help soothe your worries either, but its not like you can get out of his tight grip, can you?

"so sweet.. heavens above, you're sweeter than honey" he mumbles against your throbbing core, his words muffled and the way his lips move only serve to send tremors of pleasure shooting up your spine. his tongue is practically scooping your wetness into his waiting mouth as it gushes out of you! and god, the way you whimper and grind your hips forward once you finally get over your fear of smothering him? you just earned yourself two more orgasms right there on his face! good luck getting his head out from between your thighs tonight <3

[auspicioustidings]

good girl tearing through graves and kortac to get good boy (and herself) hour of the pound my beloved…..

God you write them so well, everything is so good i’m like frothing at the mouth whenever you update‼️

i cant stop thinking about good girl finally making it back to 141 and the Vaqueros with good boy and both groups of men trying so hard to show that they’re happy she’s back too but none of it working because she’s been through too much

none of them can touch her. it hurts too bad. she nearly bit Rudy and Soap’s hands off while they tried to pet her hair while she was eating. she even tears apart a book that Ghost gets her because it has to be a trick.

they’re just trying to get her comfortable and pliant again so they can ship her off wherever in the world next, or find some reason for her to slip up so they can punish her, or get her into their bed and she won’t have it

(deep down, past a certain point of Stockholm syndrome, she just started to want them to like her. she just wanted the softness and the sweetness good boy got. she wanted to be their girl and their pet.

why was she never good enough?)

Oh that last line hits so hard <3

Ok so starting with the escape, there are a couple of big fuck ups that allow you to tear your way out of there.

Nikto was never allowed to fuck you because they view him as a feral animal who would have gotten too possessive and dangerous had he been given the opportunity, they did not consider he's been simmering with resentment over it and waiting for his opportunity to tear apart the handlers who cattle prodded him whenever he would try get under your clothes during training (he already is possessive and weird about you and the idea of you running wild out in the world gets his blood racing)

Mace was Ghost's pet before he was ever the pound's and his loyalty will always lie with his original master first - Ghost was a good master and Mace wants that for you

Roze would usually not get involved, but she's found that recently seeing you crying is making her furiously uncomfortable so she wants you out of here

Kate has been biding her time on taking the pound down after she 'adopted' her (future at the time) wife from them, she's never forgiven them for the state they put that woman in - them pissing off the 141 & Los Vaqueros presents her with the perfect time to activate sleeper agent Alex (who you haven't seen, but he has seen you) because she knows that this time they won't stop her

Alex has been trying to help you this whole time and getting increasingly upset about not being able to do more (Halloween week should have been so much worse for you, but so many of Konig's people conveniently had emergencies that week and had to skip their hour)

There are people in that building clearing a path for you in the shadows. You don't come across Horangi because he's currently hiding from Nikto, knowing if he is caught then he's absolutely fucked. Most of the 'nurses' are foaming at the mouth after being poisoned by Roze while Mace and Graves are in a fight to the death inside the clinic. The first time you have ever seen Alex is when he runs into you and good boy in the hall, hands you a knife with a nod and then takes off to deal with the people on your tail.

Good boy talks to you. Like fully, truly talks to you. You don't remember after because it's all a complete blur, but he was a human man fighting tooth and nail to protect the woman he loved during that escape.

Nobody has been able to stop Konig. He blocks the exit and he's so huge and you are so terrified of him from all that he's done to you. He's confident in your submission, backhands your boyfriend when he tries to get between you and tugs the o-ring on your collar to bring you towards him. "Trying to fly away from me spatzi? Come, let us clip your wings."

He truly thinks you will acquiesce, he is smiling indulgently with that ever horrible glint in his eyes that means he is excited about punishing you. You use the knife the man in the hallway gave you and bury it in his belly. You pull it across and rip it back out. You do not stop to give him any last words, you do not yell at him or tell him how you feel about him nor do you let him do the same to you. Because he's not worth your fucking time. You just grab your boyfriend and keep fucking going.

You meet Ale and Ghost near the entrance. They have started fighting their way in while you were fighting your way out and oh boy are they surprised to see you snarling and covered in blood barrelling towards the exit. Your body gives out on you as you fight hard against Ghost, only managing to bury the knife in his shoulder before he has your failing limbs restrained. The last thing you see is your boyfriend's face near yours. He's crying you think.

When you wake up in a new place (it's a lakehouse, beautiful but it does not escape your notice that it's in the middle of the wilderness), you're too unwilling to let anyone near you to notice things. People were on your side. Most of the men in this house are injured (Gaz nearly died, Price is in a sling for months) because in the background they were willing to die fighting to get you out of there. It's how good boy got caught, they were all throwing themselves into danger to get to you. You had people inside the pound who were on your side and you never would have gotten out without them.

But you don't know any of that. So yes, you are stuck thinking that you were never good enough to be their good girl. You had to get yourself out of there after all. They only came because good boy was there, because it couldn't possibly have been for you. You tried so hard to get them to like you and it failed. They had a tracker in you (the pound cut that out the first day), so they must have let the pound pick you up. They don't want you, they're just stuck with you because of good boy.

You are not loveable. You don't have the ability to be good. So you don't try because you can't face being rejected again. Better you be bad and don't let anyone close. Better you actively try at something you know you will succeed at, making everyone want to stay away from you.

[brownish-bear]

middle of sunday rush im just trying to make sandwiches and i have an epiphany

and i havent been as in touch with the fandom for tmagp so i be rehashing here but:

basiras a school deputy thing--important thing here is this is simply a different career that still is very much a position of power over a population of people, and typically i feel people who do wrong bc wouldnt she be dealing with like suspensions and the like. thats a new thought i just like wow the parallels are actually insane BUT ANYWAYS NOT THE POINT

so really my thought is the universe is just barely shifted

consider: jon only tape recorded cases that didnt work on his laptop. this was explained in the first episode of tma. it wasnt EVERY case, it was certain cases. same way only CERTAIN cases are text to speech in tmagp

consider: in tmagp universe, jon, martin, JURGEN LEITNER ILL COME BACK TO HIM NO I WONT JURGEN LEITNER HELLO I FEEL LIKE WE'RE BREEZING PAST THE FACT THAT WE'RE HEARING JURGEN LEITER READING US HISTORICAL CASES ITS NOT JUST FOR THE VIBES BABES IN THIS UNIVERSE JURGEN LEITNER WORKED FOR THE MAGNUSE INSTITUTE, yeah thats what im getting at in this universe jartin and leitner worked on creating a text to speech or something of the like or SOMETHING they worked in the institute for sure im sure of it sam just needs to get better detective skills

(AMMENDUM: I NEED BETTER DETECTIVE SKILLS IT ISNT JURGEN LEITNER IM JUST BAD AT VOICES. JONAH MAGNUS?)

okay ive got my word vomit out

jon martin jonah. worked at the institute. perhaps worked on text to speech technology for institute. because this universe. is just barely shifted.

mess of an explaination but its all ive got and no i wont try any harder to make it coherent

pls pls add or argue against or anything im foaming at the mouthing thinking about this

its so hard listening to good podcasts as they come out bc wdym i have to WAIT before i can know all the things wdym i cant guess everything immediately

[ma3mae]

How much do you want to bet that Tecchou has a god damn bug collection and he just shows it off to you proudly😭 "Babe come look it's my favourite beetle boogahooga" I JUST KNOW HE GIVES EITHER THE MOST BASIC NAMES OR LIKE "MEGA BLENDER X300 MAX"

Also I love your writing so much omfg😔🩷🩷

Don't be so antsy!

Summary: It's been a few months since Tetchou declared his love for you and he couldn't be happier, especially after finally showing you his treasured collection! But how will you react?

Genre: FEAR 🤡 because insects... Also cracky and a bit of fluff bc i just love him so much 💕😭 slight suggestive hint at the end 🤓

A/N: FOAMING AT MY MOUTH FROM EXCITEMENT!!!! still cant believe that u love my writing 😭😩fangirling so hard rn, time to print, frame and hang this onto my wall. No one can stop me 😤😤😤

Suehiro Tetchou

You knew about his adoration for bugs even before the both of you got together

It wasnt smth he'd be talking about for HOURS bc its just a topic never really spoken about

all the other hunting dogs know about it but... they wanted to spare u LMAO 😭

like u accompany him to his work place and his colleagues r outside of the dooe, waiting for him so they can leave

u r like waving at them and teruko waves back but yall r just caught off guard when jouno YELLs out of nowhere "MOVE YOUR DUMB ASS ALREADY OVER HERE 💀💀"

Like was he yelling at u??? Yall we dont know who he lookin at bc HOW 😭😭😭😩 srynotsry

But u realised who he meant when u looked behind u and tf 🤨🤨🤨

Tetchou just EMERGES out of a fking bush and 🤨🤨 is that 🤨🤨 a random ass bug in his hand 🤨🤨🤨 he got KIDNAPPED

"But I found this cool grasshopper... His name's Bush."

"DONT GIVE IT A NAME! PUT THAT SHIT BACK ALREADY AND M O V E"

Jouno is just seconds away from beating the shit out of him bc

"WHERE'D HE GET THAT JAR FROM???" "Teruko, that's not important. Make him HURRY UP ALREADY"

"Can we take Leaf with us?"Jouno is already taking his sword out to kill that thing 💀💀

cue a RANDOM ASS FIGHT 💀💀💀

"PUT IT BACK AND LETS MOVE YOU FUCKER" "No, I won't let you hurt Omega 300 GT 5" "Wait I thought his name wa-UGH IDC ILL KILL THAT THING FFS"

tachihara just turns away with "k, think im walking home already BYE"

teruko just yanks him back and the other boys too so that they can finally leave

"Can I take him wit-" "No. I know you like these kinds of things but no. Also if you want that thing to actually LIVE then put it back bc u know who will exterminate the shit out of it." "Hm. 😐"

He just walks up to u and goes "can u take this. please"

U cant say no to his puppy eyes 👁️👁️

You're just so confused but maybe its also cute??? U just thought that its a little interest in him but BOY

It wasnt so little as u thought 🤓 LOL i gotta get my head out of the gutter

*

*

********

Holding hands while going on a stroll was something you'd often find yourself doing during your free time together, especially when the sun was shining so brightly while a fresh spring breeze would occasionally sweep through the air.

Humming a random tune while you lightly swayed your joined hands back and forth.

Tetchou couldn't help but let a soft smile grace his lips at the slightly childish action.

No words could describe how much he enjoyed your leisurely strolls together. It would be seen as a nearly generic thing to do together as a couple but for him it was a time to be treated as sacred. Where else could he tuck your hair behind your ears when the wind would blow through it? Or where else could he see the sunlight make you shine impossibly brighter in his eyes, almost blindingly so?

But what really excited him were the "little" discoveries you'd make on your way.

And oh wait? What's tha-

"Y/N."

Hearing your name made you about to turn your face towards him yet there was no need!

Since your boyfriend forgot how strong he was...

Yanking a bit too hard on your arm made you hit his chest with your back, a small "oof" slipping past your lips.

"OUCH, Tetchou??? What in the-"

"Look."

"Huh?"

You let your gaze follow the direction his outstretched arm, finally stopping at what he was pointing at with his index finger.

To your not so much surprise it was a-

"It's a colony of ants. Look at how hard they're working, Y/N."

Before you could even think of stopping him, he had already moved towards them, crouching down to get a closer look.

You let out a sigh yet couldn't help smiling at his endearing but also random antics.

No matter how many times it would help, it never managed to not be funny. The Hunting Dogs were known for how powerful yet also how "eccentric" the members were, yet witnessing it for the first time and continuing to live with it never failed to bring a smile on your face.

Especially with just how cute your boyfriend looked right now! The way his eyes would twinkle at the mention of insects was something you personally could only understand but never relate to.

As much as you would love to go along and try to enjoy it with him, you kinda wanted to continue on your walk.

Because when he's focused on something then it would be a real nuisance to get him away from it.

But that's not a problem for the love of his life, right?

*

*

*********

Jokes on you, it actually was 💀

Like u got a hunch hes doing it on purpose when he pulls his puppy eyes and that barely but noticeable enough atleast for you pout on u when u said

"I love you, but i kinda wanna yk walk?"

"But Y/N 😟. *points at the ants* only for a minute, please 🥺"

YALL KNOW 😩 YALL KNOOOOW ITS NOT GONNA BE A MINUTE 😔😔😔

Your legs gonna start cramping from watching these fuckers crawl around??? Nah no one CARES 😤😤 jk jk

our cutie tetchouie would NEVER ignore his partners needs okur okur

Like hes already whipped from how we r atleast TRYING to enjoy what hes enjoying

He knows how unlikeable these little crawlers i hate bugs can be but his s/o is trying so hard and he just 🥺🥺🥺 looks at u wirh heart eyes

dw if u cant walk, he'll give u either a piggyback ride yall being cute 😤💕 or the classic bridal style 😩

And dw if he finds another interesting bug but his hands r occupied? Nah, he gon GET THAT ANYWAY

*

*

*********

"ACHOO"

"Bless you."

"Thanks." You told him as you lightly rubbed your nose with the back of your hand. You loved his hair but it would often tickle your nose whenever you'd try to look over his shoulder as he was carrying you on his back.

It was one of the small ways of him apologizing to you and enduring his antics.

His heart would nearly suffocate him from how much it would swell whenever you'd just reassure him that it was totally okay for you. If he loved ants then it's just what he loved and as his partner, you'd be open for everything that makes him happy.

Yet he still tried to keep it down around you so he was often a bit torn between.

"Ah. Wait is that...?"

Oh no.

You knew it.

You knew what was about to happen next.

Before you could stop him, he was already walking off of the path and into the field.

A whine got past your lips yet he seemed too caught up in his fascination of...?

"A horned beetle!"

Some meters above you, sat a beetle on a branch, seemingly undisturbed by the both of you and yet in Tetchou's eyes, it equaled a sacred national treasure.

A treasure that he wanted to get his hands on.

"Hold tight, Y/N."

"WAIT N-!"

Hooking your arm and legs tightly like a koala around his body, he made a leap for it. You didn't know HOW he managed to do it every time but there he was.

Jumping onto the tree and quickly pulling a tiny jar out of a pocket in his blazer (you don't even know how he even hid that...) and-

"I got it!" He exclaimed in happiness as he jumped down, holding his hand onto the open jar. Screwing a lid onto it, he gave it a quick glance before putting it back into his pocket.

Noticing that you were slowly losing your grip on him, he hooked his arms under your legs, hoisting you up again before almost nonchalantly continuing your walk as if he hadn't just jumped up a tree for a beetle...

"Uhm, you don't wanna stare at it or something?" You asked, genuinely surprised yet almost regretting the question since it could change his mind.

"No, I can do that at home. Your legs are hurting after all."

A smile spread onto your lips at his kind words, only spreading further after hearing a slight hitch in his breathing as you let your lips graze his neck before planting a kiss on it.

"Anything for my love, you know? By the way, have you thought of a name yet for your new little friend?"

"I have but-"

You felt him tighten his grip around your legs before he suddenly began to pick up his pace, walking in long and fast strides.

"Want to be home as fast as possible, so we can you know..."

He peeked over his shoulder to see your slightly reddened face before looking forward, strongly focused on one thing.

"continue what you've started."

A small laugh slipped out of him, your nose tickling his neck as you hid your face in it, immediately knowing what he was implying and well...

You weren't complaining.

*

*

********

No one would have expected it but... our boy's pretty easy to rile up 😤😩

yall think he cute and innocent?? Nah nah he wanna get into that shi* too like hes a whipped and legit down bad man for his love rightfully so ✋✋

dw after yall r done, he'll def bring back the topic of "naming his friend/-s" and welp

u better be ready to spend ur weekend on that kinda thing 💀💀💀 and yall gonna settle on the either cutest or most ridiculous shit...

Its either "Groundbreaker 500, The Nightmare of All" or "sugarberry twinkle star" 🤓🤓 if he wants to honor the place he found it (like in the beginning ^), uhhhhhh 🤨

This btch's name is gonna be "leftover bread" or smth bc it was on it when he found that thing💀

yall cant convince me otherwise BYE 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

LOL, this got way too long and i kinda got carried away but that always happens with him 😩😩😩 maybe rushed at the end but i hope u r happy with this @soysaucefu 💅💕💕

[trash----panda]

Story pt 2

There was no way out, her new roomate was gonna kill her. She was frantically looking for a way to survive, anything that could save her, but this was the end, he'd dealt the final blow.

"DAMN IT" she kicked the joystick, it was bigger than most of her body "you only won cause this thing is huge!"

the bright red letters blinked on the screen 'player 1 wins', the larger male giggling a little as the pixie threw her fit. They'd only been rooming a week but were already quite comfortable together, Joey learning he was too much a push over to be a threat and Dendro just glad she wasnt scared of him. She'd started spending every day, 9am-4pm training, everything else was learning her way around the faucility and bothering her new partner.

"you cheated!" She insisted, the light fuzz of her body puffed up at the moment, her eyes giving away how she was thinking about where to bite him.

He was just glad she was hanging around "well you said the size of the controller didnt matter, that you could still win" he couldnt help it, a little bit of a cocky smirk escaping. He watched as she hissed and went to go hide under the bed, she didnt need much space so she was mostly living under there, except for the nights, she was usually gone before he woke up but the fuzz she left behind let him know she'd wanted some snuggles. He wagged his tail a little, getting up to turn off the system "how about this? We go get some snacks and try again later?" He watched the darkness under the bed for any movement, it took a moment but she did come out again.

"fine, but im not walking" she mumbled, waiting for him to put his hand down before stepping on "i hate you, you know that?" She glared up at him, even more moody when he laughed at that.

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

The canteen was in no way full, basically abandoned when it wasnt a meal time, to the left of the dining area there was a small shop where you could get more mundane items and even snacks. He headed inside and looked for anything they'd both like, though it was kinda hard picking anything they could agree on that wasnt candy. She liked meat while he prefered dried bugs, she like potato chips but he liked tortilla, he was so focused on searching that he didnt notice she'd gone off on her own to look.

Joey was in the candy, of course, looking at hard candies, they'd work as projectiles and as a snack. Already silently plotting her revenge for that loss. The both of them got startled when their wrist watches got an alert, a mission? Already? Ok whatever. She sighed, going to look for him, by now the dummy was looking for her, trying to call for her softly "Joey? Hey" she landed on his head, leaning over to look him in the eyes "i'm here" he visably relaxed, headed towards the garage.

------

The pixie was still kinda hungry but that had to wait at the moment, they'd met up with the chief, she didnt like him. It was cause he was human, humans were annoying and self-important, she could even hear it in his voice. Sadly that's all she was paying attention to, snapping out of it when Dendro started headed for one of the AATV(Armored All Terrain Vehicle).

"wait what are we doing?" She tapped his head, trying to make sure she had his attention.

".... Did you hear anything he said?" He picked her up and gently slid her down into her seat before going to his "it's just supposed to be recon, possible infectious disease, basic symptoms are the usual. Aggression, loss of inhibition, foaming at the mouth?"

She starred at him blankly, letting him know she heard none of it "like rabies... but 10x worse?" She shrugged, figuring she'd know when they get there.

He sighed and started up the vehicle, getting it out on the road before setting the auto-pilot. He needed to change, since this could effect him he needed to get a hazard suit on. Blushing a little when he felt the other's eyes on him

"what are you doing?"

"muscles" she kept starring

"what-"

"im a bug" she gestures to her body "i cant build muscle the same way... it makes your body look.... interesting"

He just tried to ignore her, not wanting to think about it too hard, just going over the breif in his head over and over instead, hoping they'll get there soon.

[scottsupremacy]

bro. bro. okay. i’ve been aware of your long scike fic for a while, and we (sys) are planning on reading it like. tonight. at least starting it. we didn’t know what to expect, we usually don’t read long fanfics, but scrolling thru your blog for a while has made us SO insanely pumped and giddy and hype as fuck as we haven’t EVEN STARTED THE FIC!!! we MATCH ENERGIES!!! i FW YOUR VIBE HEAVY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! you have the exact same scike brain worms as we do and i am very excited to start reading ur fic. sorry if this ask is weird i am genuinely going insane out of excitement. i am up partying my scike . i will probably send a long treacherous ask foaming at the mouth over your fic later, apologies and wish me luck

hell yeah brotherrrrr best of luck to u. cant wait till you come back here dissapointed & horrified & going oh man none of that was what i was expecting

[awellboiledicicle]

Its going to be all good until Dot gets a chocolate craving and mentions it around Gale "Waterdeep has Everything" Dekarios.

Because he'll start waxing poetic about a tart he had or a delightful cake... and she'll just.

"Gale that sounds great, but all I want to do is curl up and pour syrup and whipped cream directly into my mouth."

"That... is also an option. One I haven't tried, admittedly, but an option." A pause. "So do you just tip the bowls or--"

"Chocolate syrup comes in a bottle you squeeze. Think a waterskin of chocolate."

"Huh. Alright."

"And the whipped cream comes in a can." A blink as she processed his look of confusion. "Think flask that's under a lot of pressure so when you press on the top, the cream foams out."

"Fascinating... and you'd just..."

"Just pour both in, yup."

"Why?"

"You look me in the eyes and say that it doesnt sound like a decadent time. Just a nice treat."

"Well yes, but doesn't it go bad? What with Earths lack of magic to keep things cool."

"We have this magical thing called science, you know. Making a box cold we figured out."

"Fair enough." A hum. "I just can't imagine pure chocolate tasting good."

"Oh no, no, chocolate syrup is mostly just sugar and coloring. It's just cheap. If you magically summoned me a cake I'd take that any day."

"I see."

"Wait. Did you think I was saying I wanted to just sit down and house whole bowls of chocolate and cream? Because that's certainly an image."

"I don't know what people on Earth do for fun!"

"Nope we all sit around pouring sweets down our faces. Just getting real sloppy with it."

"Now that is a wildly different mental image--"

"And a thing that some people actually did."

"Pardon?"

"We have strayed from me wanting chocolate."

"No, no, let's stay in this delightful new world you've just described." Astarion pipes up, having watched quietly up to this point. "Do tell me where these people get enough chocolate to do that."

A sigh.

"Its mostly people watching women get lathered in syrup and wrestling in their small clothes." A grimace. "I just always get distracted thinking about the clean up."

"Go on."

"Not like that, christ--"

"You opened the door! I just peered through!"

Gale, meanwhile looked like he'd swallowed a frog. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Thats.. something to imagine."

"I cannot believe this is where we landed."

"Less landed and more strolled in a straight line, darling, but Do pretend you didnt raise this specter."

"I just wanted a mouth full of sugar and here we are."

"A mouthful you say--"

"Astarion I remind you I have eldritch blast on tap, just whenever."

"You think I'm funny, don't lie."

"Fine but you're going to kill Gale."

"I am... perfectly fine."

Karlach trotted further ahead and waved her hands.

"Actually, can we get back to the women wrestling in pools of chocolate and cream? Because--"

"You're all horrible."

"--whats the win condition. Does the loser have to clean off the winner--"

"We are not discussing this while goblin hunting."

"Soldier, you cant tell me theres horny wrestling and NOT clarify--"

"I didnt SAY horny--"

"Implied it!"

"Eldritch blast on all of you."

[starlitwhispers]

caution: contents may be hot (part 1/2) sylvix / sylvain x felix - Coffee Shop AU a/n: i finally stopped hiding n decided to write them bc i cant stop thinking abt them

Almost every day, without fail, he comes in at the same time for the same drink. He’s typically in a rush, he’s frustrated or angry about something. The red-haired barista thinks to himself, he’s never once seen him in a good mood. 8:00 AM is the typical morning rush for the café as everyone is preparing to head to their 9-5’s so of course it would be crowded with a long line. But he always placed a mobile order, and that way, he could cut the line and just pick up his order. Sylvain smirked peeping up at the clock, it was 7:58 and he would pop in through that door any minute and walk up to the counter for his drink. 

The ticket for his drink had arrived a few minutes earlier, and as per usual, Sylvain was in charge of that end of the counter. A large black americano with an extra shot of espresso. It smelled heavenly when put together, but the barista knew more than that. The extra shot of espresso made it taste like black tar in his humble opinion – but what did he know? Funnily enough, in his occupation, he didn’t care much for coffee. He was much more of a tea kind of guy. 

However, for some reason, this morning was more packed than normal. They found themselves rushed, switching out grinds and foaming milk with more pace. In the literal heat and steam of the moment, Sylvain hadn’t realized his unacknowledged favorite regular had already popped in and was waiting at the counter. His cheeks flushed as he watched the businessman in front of him frown, his brows knotted in irritation. Whenever he came in, he always looked pissed, but today it was an exceptionally sharp expression. 

Sylvain’s hands felt buttery as he fumbled to make his drink in a flash, sloppily pressing the lid to the cup. His fingertips reached for a sleeve which he pressed open to slip the drink into. He appeared unusually self-conscious, perhaps due to the fact he could feel this customer’s piercing gaze scrutinizing his every move. His poor heart began to pound as he stepped closer and closer to the counter to set down his drink. And of course, this was all done with a bit of urgency in his step. 

So, as he approached the regular, he foolishly took his sight off the product and up to the customer, with whom he briefly locked eyes. Surprised by the sudden eye contact, Sylvain tripped over himself. And the cup? 

It went flying. 

All over the dark-haired young man, who – incidentally – happened to be wearing a lighter gray pantsuit. Thankfully, he didn’t seem burnt by the liquid, and by the shade of Sylvain’s face, one would have thought the barista was the one burned. The only words that could come out of his mouth at the moment – 

“I am so sorry,” he profusely gasped. 

Although amidst madness and rush, even his manager witnessed the assault. She rushed over to inquire after the customer’s condition, but he wouldn’t say a word. Instead, he looked at Sylvain, extremely displeased, grabbed a napkin to wipe what he could, and walked out of the café. His manager had continued to call after him, “sir! Sir!” but they received no answer as he made his exit. She returned to behind the counter, immediately resuming work but admonishing and questioning her employee. 

“Just what on earth happened with you? I didn’t hire you to have butterfingers!” She exclaimed, obviously exasperated. “I wasn’t even able to file an incident report since he wouldn’t answer me. We’re screwed if he decides to sue!” 

Sylvain remained quiet, incredibly embarrassed and internally cursing himself. He wiped up the remaining mess with a wet towel and continued his shift for the rest of the day with no more accidents. When he went home that day, he realized that it had been his first bad day at work. For the first time, since he had started over six months ago.  

“Guess there’s a first for everything,” he muttered to himself in pity. 

—

The next day, when Sylvain arrived at work, he made sure prior to clocking in that all his ducks were in a row – meaning, sleeves were rolled up tightly, shoelaces were all tied and tucked, and his apron was properly fastened. There would be no mishaps today and he would deliver the usual to the usual customer at the usual time. 

But, something strange happened, instead. 

His heart pounded as 7:55 came around and he didn’t hear the machine printing off the mobile order. He kept glancing at the clock, as each minute passed, the ticket wasn’t printing. Eventually, the clock struck 7:59 and from behind, he suddenly heard the printer. His head whipped around and he immediately reached for the order. To his dismay, it read “Md Van. OatMlk Ltt”. 

8:00 passed and there was no sign of that dark hair, some well-trimmed suit, or glossy dress shoes. There was no piercing gaze or expression of annoyance, no low “tch” that usually escaped from those lips when the regular scrolled his email on his phone. His presence was missing from behind the counter… and Sylvain noticed it. 

He hadn’t been entirely sure when he began noticing that customer, anyway. He had assumed he’d always been a patron of the café, but then he remembered he only started seeing him about four or so months ago. He was always here, on the dot, every day ordering the same drink, walking in the same way and standing there, waiting, with an existence Sylvain just couldn’t ignore. Perhaps he admired him, they seemed close in age yet here they were – Sylavin was just some twenty-something barista during the week and his regular? Well, his regular came in everyday, sleek suits, polished loafers, and a shiny wristwatch. He looked like the whole package, the whole shimmering, sparkling package. 

And that sparkly looking gentleman decidedly did not come today. The day after the red-headed barista spilled coffee all over him. If his actions had alone been responsible for losing that young man’s patronage, he couldn’t be mad at anyone except himself. As the end of his shift came around, he walked to the break room to wash his hands and remove his apron. 

The manager approached him, her long brown hair bouncing behind her. “Sylvain, you didn’t have any issues today, but I haven’t forgotten about yesterday, you know?” 

“I honestly don’t know what was up with me, besides that guy didn’t come back, so it should be all good right?” 

She sighed, stretching her arms out. “Not sure, it’s only been one day. That suit he was wearing looked awfully expensive to me.” 

Sylvain’s lips pressed into a line before responding. “You’ve always had an eye for those kinda’ things, though. My shift is over, do you need anything else from me before I go?” 

He watched as she shook her head and walked back out to be behind the counter with the other employees on shift. Lazily, he opened his locker to retrieve his other aprons. Throughout the week, at the end of his shift, he would store his dirty aprons in his locker. When Friday came around, he’d gather them all up to wash them over the weekend. For some reason, as he closed the locker, that customer popped into his mind again. 

He swore he’d never thought of another human being as much as he thought about this damned businessman. As he walked out the door of the café and continued down the block, he pulled his phone from his back pocket to check his texts and notifications in general. Nothing of much importance, he saw. It wasn’t as if he had some kind of company email that was always pinging… unlike, someone else—

“Hey.” 

A slightly husky voice he had never heard before broke into his thoughts. He turned his head up from his phone screen and looked to his right. Leaning their back against the brick wall of the nearest building, it was the very man that had been stuck on his mind all day. Sylvain stood there, a little dumbfounded and blinking unsure as to what to say. 

“I said ‘hey’,” his voice asserted once more, evidently vexed. But what the redhead couldn’t believe is what he had been seeing – that irritated, well-dressed guy that showed up everyday for a couple months, he was speaking to him! In all those times he served him coffee, he hadn’t so much as heard one word other than an exasperated sigh or click of the tongue. He was surprised, taking in what his voice really sounded like. And he liked that sound, in fact. 

“Oh, sorry,” Sylvain finally answered, a little slow to react. “Is this about yesterday?” 

“You could say that,” the dark-haired man answered. He stood there with his back leaning against the brick, a little dressed down than usual. Instead of the usual full-on suit, he just had some dress pants with a dress shirt on, no tie, top two buttons undone. His sleeves were a quarter of the way rolled up, and for some reason, Sylvain found himself eyeing his partially bare arms. 

“Are you looking for financial compensation?” Sylvain asked blatantly, clearly aware that he wouldn’t be here unless he was looking for some kind of compensation for what he did. However, in response, the man standing across from him just blinked. 

“I am fairly certain you couldn’t pay me back monetarily,” he responded back, a small scoff behind his words. “I was just wondering what kind of person you had to be in order to screw up like that, and just what you would do if I wanted to see you squirm.” 

“Why on earth would you be wondering about some barista?” 

At that moment, he stood up from leaning against the wall and walked towards Sylvain. As he came closer, Sylvain became more conscious about how he smelled of sweat and how putrid his old and dirty aprons in his arm must reek. Why was he walking up to him? Why come any closer? He suddenly stopped in front of him, only about a foot between them. 

“I’ve always been curious about you, Sylvain.” 

He knew his name? The redhead stepped back and felt blood rushing to his face. “How did you know my name?” 

The seemingly aloof gentleman in front of him rolled his eyes and pulled a business card out from his back pocket. Using the corner of the card to point to Sylvain’s chest, he locked eyes with him as he answered. 

“Your nametag, you fool.” Afterwards, he pressed the business card flat onto Sylvain’s chest, his fingers grazing his pectoral. Sylvain quickly brought his hand up to catch the card before it fell. The dark-haired man tucked his hands into his front pockets and began to walk away. Sylvain looked down at the small piece of cardstock in his hand, bewildered. 

“Felix,” he continued, introducing himself a few steps away. “Fraldarius. When you get curious, give me a call. And next week, don’t spill a shitty cup of coffee all over me.” 

Before Sylvain could answer him again, he had already walked quite a bit from him. He watched as this ‘Felix’ disappeared into the throngs of people in the streets. But somehow, he knew if he continued to watch, he would be able to spot his dark hair if he wanted to. 

Felix, huh. 

He now knew his name, something he hadn’t been expecting to learn… ever. Six months ago he was just a rookie barista, two months into it he started noticing this Felix guy coming in everyday, and yesterday he flung an americano all over him. And today, he had a business card with his number, email, and name on it. Not only did it say that personal information, it had his company and his company’s address. Sylvain felt like they were more than just strangers now, more than just strangers with one conversation shared between them. 

Then, a thought struck him. Felix had mentioned he couldn’t pay him back monetarily, did he have something else in mind?! His heart began to race again and he swallowed. Now he had another thing to worry about. It didn’t sound as if he was going to raise an issue with the café after all, but what could he – a simple barista – do for this hard-to-please suit? 

He rubbed the back of his head in grief and confusion. What was he to do…? With himself, these thoughts, and this… Felix guy? Who knew a cup of coffee could cause such anguish? 

Not Sylvain, that was for sure. 

[playgrl0]

ok hanma is fine idk what it is about him but whats your opinion on kazutora? i cant wait for s2 to come out bc kazutora is gonna have LONG LUSCIOUS HAIR im most definitely going to be foaming at the mouth 

DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON HIMMMM😭😭😭

I LOVE KAZUTORA SOOO MUCH hes so 🥹 nd so 😋 nd so 🤤 like i just love everything about him bro omg especially his LONG HAIRRRRRR the panels of him having the hair up in a bun or ponytail nd some strands out at the front,,,,, i am on my knees!!!! he's beautiful <3333

[pompomwormin]

Fun fact: every month of the year contains either 3 or 4 love live character birthdays

[suntann]

undefined

omg i actually cant wait for love cobra to come out im foaming at the mouth (at this point ill make my OWN love cobra content alfhjakhf) song -> times arrow by kibishi

[trickstarbrave]

sorry if i have told this story before but i will think about it until the day i Die 

anyways after my car accident i fucking Super Broke my femur and shortly after i woke up and could move my arm (had to fucking cut and pull me out of the car) i realized i broke my left collarbone. EMTs i told believed me and showed me car. i could very obviously feel where it was broken. touching it and having me move slightly would reveal it was in fact: broken exactly where i said it was.

anyways i get back. by this point they know i have a concussion, giant bump on my head, and my femur is twisted at such an odd angle its impossible to tell its not broken. i have an IV with morphine ive had since i basically woke up an EMT hooked up. i have to get x-rays taken laying down bc i cant stand or rly sit up to take them properly. my broken collarbone doesnt rly show. they need to get me into a full body scan anyways 

i am moved into the trauma unit CT scan. tech there tells me to lift my arms. i say my collarbone is broken. i look at her weird and say my collarbone is broken. she says “it doesnt look broken on the xrays” very annoyed. i start saying “well yeah i had to take it laying down because of my leg” bc despite being absolutely high and with a concussion bad enough they refused to put me under to set my leg (thanks. absolutely hated that more than anything) i still remembered x-rays taken laying down Arent Fucking Accurate. CT tech rolls her eyes and tells me again to raise my arms bc its probably “just dislocated”. why would that make raising it any better??? who knows but im bed bound and high on morphine and im not able to fight back or protest much. very carefully i raise them 

i get out. she tells me to put my arms down. i start very slowly doing it trying hard not to fuck with my broken bone too bad. she get annoyed and grabs my arm, SLAMMING it down. the sound of bone crunching and moving together happens and i scream bloody fucking murder. she drops her hands and jumps nearly a foot away from me shouting “i didnt touch [her]!” my collarbone is MUCH more obviously broken now under the skin. im crying bc it fucking hurt. not nearly as bad as the femur but jesus fucking christ. i am moved back into the trauma unit exam room. everyone in this trauma unit has heard me scream at the top of my lungs twice like im being murdered and im sure no one enjoyed it. my family has their third emotional breakdown 

CT scan comes back. its broken. it was broken when i said it was. of course it was fucking broken i was in a car accident if my collarbone WASNT broken that would be weirder. collarbones break super easily. 

the CT tech is luckily i cant remember faces well. bc if i saw her sober at the supermarket i would foam at the mouth in a rage before telling her to get a different fucking job because if a 19 year old with a concussion and high off morphine can seemingly remember x-rays better than you you fucking suck at your job. eat shit bitch

“oh but they have such a hard time in medicine, dont be rude to any medical staff--” no. idc if she was having a bad day or has long hours or is stressed. i nearly fucking died. this is the worst day of my fucking life. how does working a 13 hour shift really compare to being pulled out from under a car engine, stripped naked, and then having your fucking arm broken??? waiting an additional 5 seconds wasn’t going to get anyone killed. i hope someone breaks your fucking collarbone and tells you “its just dislocated get over it”. if you’re getting snippy and impatient with me in the service industry fine. if youre breaking my fucking arm further bc god forbid you wait 5 seconds eat shit and die. 

[simplyclockwork]

I love what you did with Sherlock stuck in the window frame. Sherlock trying to be arch and aloof still but a bit defeated and John caring and meeting Sherlock’s needs. I’d love to have a fic that is John shaving Sherlock (out of some sort of medical necessity) but it leads to intimacy or the promise of intimacy in the future. I know John shaving Sherlock has been done before, but I’m sure your take on it would add hugely to the greater good!

Hey anon! Thanks so much for your patience. I've finally filled this prompt. You can read it below the page break or on Ao3 here!

Please feel free to send future prompts anytime as long as you don't mind waiting a while for the fill.

Thank you :)

---

“Stop fidgeting,” John snapped as Sherlock wriggled for the umpteenth time under his ministrations.

Sherlock stopped with a huff. “I need to check on my experiment,” he protested, though he remained perfectly still. “You’re taking too long, John. You shave like a man who has never handled a blade before.”

“I may have handled a gun far more than a blade, but that doesn’t mean I won’t accidentally lop off your ear if you don’t sit bloody well still!” John gripped Sherlock’s shoulder and pressed him more firmly into the kitchen chair. “Lord above, are there snakes in your pants?”

“Hurry up, John!” Sherlock snarled, squirming once more.

John, trying valiantly to keep Sherlock from slitting his own throat on the razor pressed against the vulnerable expanse of his skin, jerked the blade back. “Christ, Sherlock, stop moving! The sooner you shut up and sit still, the sooner this will be over with.” He shot a baleful glare at the cluttered surface of their kitchen table. “What kind of experiment are you doing with one working hand — non-dominant, might I add — anyway?”

“One surely beyond your simple mind,” Sherlock replied peevishly, making John roll his eyes.

“You and your miserable mood can both sod off,” John grumbled, biting back harsher words and making a concerted effort to soften his reprimand.

Sherlock had been absolutely horrid ever since he’d broken nearly every bone in his dominant hand in a brawl with a murder suspect. The man had slammed his foot down on Sherlock’s hand when Sherlock slipped on the rain-wet street during their tussle. Recovery had been a slow and painful process as the splinted hand turned alarming shades of black and blue while the bones and tendons healed. John couldn’t honestly blame Sherlock for his mood, but that didn’t make him easier to deal with. He struggled with even the most basic tasks, leaving John to support him in mundane functions. It had begun to wear on them both — Sherlock far more than John as he took repeated blows to his independence — bringing out Sherlock’s nastier side.

Which brought them to that morning, to John’s day off from the surgery. He'd been woken just shy of six am by a petulant Sherlock, who had insisted that his stubble had grown far too coarse to abide any longer. He’d stood — loomed, more like — over John as John blinked the sleep from his eyes and watched Sherlock scratch agitatedly at his stubbly jaw, chin and cheeks. Now, here they were, with John making a valiant effort to shave Sherlock’s face while Sherlock squirmed with the force of five hundred angry snakes.

“Do I really have to do this with a straight razor?” John asked for the fifth time, already knowing Sherlock’s answer before it was bit out through bared teeth.

“Disposable razors are a farce,” Sherlock said, muscles flexing under his damp skin as his jaw clenched. “I require a closer shave, which is only possible with a straight razor.”

“Yeah, yeah,” John sighed, just as he had the four times before. “I know. Well, if you want me to do this, then you need to bloody well sit fucking still so I don’t cut your throat. Not even you would enjoy that murder.”

Sherlock muttered something that John missed.

“What?”

“I said, it would be manslaughter, not murder,” Sherlock snapped. “It’s only murder when it is premeditated.”

John pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and index finger, struggling not to lose the tenuous hold he still retained on his temper. “Who says it wouldn’t be premeditated?” John prayed for patience and opened his eyes again. “Stop clenching your teeth,” he ordered, smoothing his fingertips over Sherlock’s tense jaw. Sherlock sucked in a sharp breath and tensed more, making John sigh. “You’re impossible.”

“Just shave my face, John,” Sherlock muttered, some of the aggression mysteriously gone from his voice as he closed his eyes.

John shrugged and smoothed more shaving cream where his first application had dried. Sliding his fingers into Sherlock’s curls, John gently tilted his head back over the table and bent to set the razor against Sherlock’s skin. As he did, the sharp edge brushing Sherlock’s neck, Sherlock swallowed, making his throat bob beneath the blade. John paused warily, eyes fixed on the subtle motion. It seemed deeply vulnerable to him, inspiring an unexpected surge of protectiveness that caught him off guard.

He was still reeling with it when Sherlock cracked open one eye and squinted at him. “Something wrong?”

Did John imagine it, or did Sherlock’s voice sound strained? He studied the familiar face, searching for clues. But Sherlock had closed both eyes again, his expression perfectly blank.

“I haven’t got all day, John,” he reminded him sharply, though his voice lacked its earlier bite.

“Right,” John said, clearing his throat. He shook his head, banishing the strange feelings. “Of course. Wouldn’t want to keep you from your incredibly important tinkering.”

“Experiment, John,” Sherlock corrected him, the corner of his mouth twitching upward despite his admonishment.

“Mhm.” John refocused, his feelings of confusion somewhat settled by the familiar cant of their banter. He hesitated over Sherlock’s throat and decided to start somewhere else. Setting the blade at the top of Sherlock’s cheek, John carefully drew the razor’s edge through the shaving cream. It was much fancier than his own brand, which came in a can and looked more like whipping cream than shaving material. Predictably, Sherlock’s came from a bar, complete with a rounded brush to spread the lather. It smelled like pine and explained some of what John had come to think of as Sherlock’s natural scent.

Reigning in his wandering thoughts, his brow furrowed, John wiped the blade clean and set it back to Sherlock’s skin. He cleared a strip next to the first, pausing only when his left hand gave a slight twitch. John cursed his intermittent tremour silently, retracing the same area to erase the few spots he’d missed. A stubborn fleck of dried lather remained in his path, and John reached out to smooth it away with his thumb. Sherlock’s cheek twitched at the touch. John paused, thumb resting on Sherlock’s skin, when he saw that Sherlock’s eyes were open. Half-open, to be exact, with dark silver peeking out beneath his long, lowered lashes.

Something about that gaze froze John in place, the moment stretching out until he broke free with a quiet, awkward cough. Ducking his head to clean the blade again, John bought himself time, fussing with the flannel until he looked up again and saw that Sherlock’s eyes were closed once more. A relieved sigh escaped him before he could bite it back, and John was glad to see Sherlock didn’t react or comment on the sound.

He returned to his task with far more care, gritting his teeth at even the idea of his hand twitching. The rest of the foam disappeared gradually beneath John’s determined hand, revealing more and more of Sherlock’s damp, freshly-shaven face. Sherlock sat mostly still throughout, finally settled, his expression oddly peaceful. If not for the occasional shifting of his legs — crossing and uncrossing at the thigh whenever John paused to wipe the blade clean — he might have been a statue.

“Aright,” John finally said once Sherlock’s face was clear. “Just your throat left. Make sure not to move.”

“I’m not a toddler,” Sherlock grumbled, frowning at John’s incredulous laugh. He didn’t bother to reply, and John hoped that meant he would do as bid.

Taking a deep, calming breath, John braced a hand on the chair back, trying to find the right angle. It was awkward, and he reconsidered. After a moment of hesitation, he shook off his anxiety and cupped Sherlock’s jaw at the hinge. Sherlock’s eyes flew open at the contact, clearly startled, his lips parting around a small gasp. To John’s immense relief, he held still otherwise.

John chose to ignore the odd reaction, gently tilting Sherlock’s head back and to the side as he maneuvered the blade up the side of Sherlock’s throat. John did so with great care, tongue caught between his teeth, scared of slipping. All the while, he could feel Sherlock’s gaze on him, a burning point of scrutiny that John struggled not to squirm beneath. Instead, he wiped the blade and tilted Sherlock’s head again, repeating the movement.

Sherlock was silent as the grave throughout. The only sounds in the kitchen were his loud breathing and the slick, rasping scrape of the blade as it scored stubble from skin. The moment held a strange intimacy, like the two of them existed in a bubble, removed from the world with only each other for contact.

John was starting to think he might be going mad before he slid his hand to the nape of Sherlock’s neck and cupped the base of his skull to tilt his head back. As he did so, Sherlock’s eyes fluttered shut, and his throat jumped with an audible swallow. Startled, John’s grip tightened momentarily in the damp curls caught beneath his fingers, and Sherlock jolted with a quiet groan. The reaction was so visceral that John froze, staring down at Sherlock’s upturned face. His eyes were tightly shut, face screwed up in a grimace that looked strangely close to horrified.

“Sherlock?” John asked quietly, confused. Sherlock didn’t answer, just remained stiff and still. Under his hand, John thought he could feel a slight, constant tremour rippling through Sherlock. Brow furrowed, he studied Sherlock’s tightly wound body, gaze pausing on Sherlock’s legs, crossed together in a vice grip at the thigh. Was Sherlock…? No, that couldn’t be it. Surely John was misreading the situation. “Are you alright?” he prompted, and Sherlock sucked in a loud, shaky breath.

“I’m excellent, John,” he said in a strained voice, still with his eyes closed. “Are you nearly finished?”

“Just about,” John replied, trying and failing to shake off his growing suspicion. Clearly, Sherlock didn’t want to draw attention to whatever was happening to him. John could respect that. He’d had massages before. Some touches felt unexpectedly nice, and things happened with one’s body that one couldn’t always control. It was perfectly natural — though John had never thought of Sherlock as someone who felt ‘natural’ urges.

“Relax,” he said, waiting for Sherlock to stop clenching his jaw and facial muscles. It took a moment before everything slowly eased. However, Sherlock’s lower body remained steel-tense, and John could still feel those minute tremours beneath his hand. But Sherlock didn’t speak, keeping his eyes shut, so John didn’t comment on it.

Instead, he returned to the task at hand. Gently tugging at Sherlock’s curls to tilt his head back, John exposed the underside of Sherlock’s throat and jaw as he angled the blade at the edge of the lather. With the heel of his hand pressed against Sherlock’s skin to steady his grip, John felt the subtle twitch of muscle underneath as Sherlock swallowed again, his breath catching. Rather than let that strange, slight stutter catch him off guard again, John swiped the blade up, taking the last of the lather with it in one smooth, rasping stroke.

Then, following some instinct John couldn’t name, he set aside the blade and laid his hand over the freshly-shaved skin. Sherlock gasped at the contact, blood rushing into his face and darkening his pale cheeks. The touch was light, John’s fingers barely brushing the blade-reddened skin, but Sherlock’s response was like a man run through with an electric current, his body jolting from head to toe.

John held perfectly still, waiting to see what Sherlock might do, expecting him to pull away and rush off back to his experiment. But he did neither, sitting perfectly still — save for the tiny shivers twitching through his body — under John’s touch.

Emboldened by that silent faith, John swept his fingertips down the strip of skin he’d just shaved, feeling goosebumps rise in the wake of his caress. Sherlock’s shiver increased, the colour infusing his face darkening to a deeper, tantalizing flush. John watched, enchanted, as Sherlock’s eyebrows drew together, then upward and back down as a myriad of complex expressions flitted across his face. He turned his hand, cupping the side of Sherlock’s neck, tracing the rough line of Sherlock’s bobbing throat with the pad of his thumb, just to see what would happen.

Sherlock’s lips parted around a sigh that sounded both startled and strained, the tension in his face first intensifying, then easing slowly, as John repeated the motion. He stroked Sherlock’s throat in slow, smooth passes, his work-roughened skin catching briefly on the damp terrain. Under his fingertips, pressed below Sherlock’s jaw, John felt the soft vibration of Sherlock’s whimper, voiced from deep within his throat.

“Never realized you were so sensitive,” John murmured, awed and hardly noticing the blurred lines of their friendship passing them both by. Sherlock seemed even less cognizant of the change, head tilted back as he pressed into John’s touch, offering and baring his throat in a shocking display of trust.

It was that which nearly undid John entirely. But what erased the last of his hesitation was Sherlock’s eyelids fluttering open to reveal his darkened gaze. His pupils were blown wide, almost erasing the silvery shade of his irises.

“John,” he croaked in a voice as jagged as broken glass. His head was tilted back far enough that it nearly rested on the table behind him, the science equipment scattered over the surface seemingly forgotten for the moment.

The sound of his name, spoken with such desperation, cleared the last of John’s confusion. He let go of the last remnants of his denial, of his enforced blindness of how Sherlock was reacting to him. Because he was reacting to John, that much was clear, and there was no mistaking the meaning of that reaction.

Without speaking or wasting time on words, John cupped Sherlock’s face in his hands and bent down to brush their lips together. It was a bare ghost of contact, a tentative drifting of mouths, but Sherlock’s response was definite. He groaned and surged upward, his uninjured hand tangling in John’s hair and pulling him closer. Their noses bumped clumsily, Sherlock’s teeth scraping John’s bottom lip before their mouths slotted together in a fierce kiss. It was sloppy, turning even more so when Sherlock’s lips parted, and his tongue darted out.

John responded in kind, tasting Sherlock’s eager gasp as their tongues met. Sherlock panted against his mouth, the sound desperate and rushing in John’s ears. They kissed until their need for air grew too great, some uncounted seconds that broke as John turned his face to suck in a loud inhale, his lungs burning. Sherlock gasped in sympathy against his cheek before turning John’s face back to his to reclaim his mouth in another kiss. There was the sharp drag of teeth again, the sleek, hot press of tongue and lips, and Sherlock’s hand sliding out of John’s hair, down his nape to his broad shoulders. His splinted hand hovered, ineffective, just in front of John’s chest.

“Sherlock,” John murmured, forcing himself to think through the fog of arousal quickly obscuring his thoughts. “Sherlock, wait.”

They broke apart at once, Sherlock jerking his head back. His eyes were wide, pupils huge, his face twisting into an expression of watchful uncertainty. John — who realized he had, at some point, settled onto Sherlock’s spread thighs — blinked at that expression. Something very close to fear flickered in Sherlock’s blackened gaze, prompting a soft tsk from John.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said, reaching out to smooth a tangled curl back from Sherlock’s forehead. “Everything is fine.”

Some of the tension in Sherlock’s rigid body — though not all — eased. “Is it?” he asked, his typically cultured voice turned rough. Less smooth velvet, more gravel. John thought he could get used to that change.

“Absolutely,” John murmured, offering a crooked smile. “Absolutely fine. But maybe we should, ah, slow down?”

Sherlock blinked up at him, hands settled on John’s waist, his forehead creased with a puzzled frown. “Why?”

John tilted his head and chuckled. “Well… I mean, we’ve only just had our first kiss. Are you sure you want to rush into things?”

A quiet scoff escaped Sherlock’s full lips. “We’ve lived together for several years, John. You’ve seen me naked a multitude of times—”

“Helping you shower and go to the loo when you’re injured isn’t really the same as an intimate relationship,” John interrupted, amused.

Sherlock waved his hand dismissively. “Semantics. Unimportant.” He sobered, his eyes darkening as his pupils widened again. “The facts are simple: I’ve wanted you for a very long time, John Watson. Now that you’ve realized it, I see no need to place restrictions on our feelings.” His eyes narrowed, eyebrows dropping into another frown. “Unless that’s not what you want?”

“Not what I said,” John said with an indulgent smile. Trust Sherlock to approach something like feelings with utter rationality, even as the apparent sign of his arousal pressed against the backs of John’s thighs. “I just never knew until now that you felt this way. It’s… well, it’s a bit of a surprise.”

Another scoff from Sherlock. “It’s not my fault that you’re a rather oblivious person, John. Now,” he said, voice clipped and to the point, “are you going to kiss me again? Or must we continue to talk all this out when I’d much rather show you how I feel?”

John stared at him, taken aback by the bluntness, before he tilted his head back and let out a loud, shocked laugh. “Oh, you’re going to be a handful, aren’t you?”

A gleam entered Sherlock’s pale eyes, lighting his face with mischievous promise. “I most certainly do plan for there to be handfuls of something, John. Rest assured.” He squeezed John’s backside with his un-splinted hand in a demonstration, prompting a startled but pleased wiggle from John.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” John said with a grin, then bent his head to meet Sherlock’s upturned mouth.

[neoncrowpen]

Current Requests in my Inbox

Good afternoon everyone! It's that time of day where I tell you what's currently sitting in the inbox. I feel like I'm going a bit crazy here. Maybe tumblr glitched or something. So, if you don't see your request in this list, please let me know!

As always, requests are listed from oldest to newest. Italicized text indicates what I am currently working on.

- Paul Atreides x Reader. Arranged Marriage AU.

- Paul Atreides x Reader. Both go through the Gom Jabbar test together.

- Yandere!Paul Atreides x Reader.

- Thomas Shelby x Daughter!Reader. About their rocky relationship and Thomas' reaction (and the family's reaction) to her coming out.

- Thomas Shelby x Male!Reader

- Yandere!Thomas Shelby x Male!Reader. Reader is a mechanic who takes Tommy in. As Reader reconnects with his cousin, Thomas gets jealous.

- Yandere!Paul Atreides x Reader x Yandere!Chani. Outsider attempts to kidnap you.

- Ramsay Bolton x Reader.

- Dark!Paul Atreides x Reader. Reader is under the influence of spice.

- Yandere!Thomas Shelby x Reader. Reader is Grace's sister and Thomas realizes he chose the wrong sister.

- Michael Gray x Male!Reader. Angst between them that leads into sex. NSFW.

- Paul Atreides x Reader. Paul's enemy threatens Reader.

- Father Paul (John Pruitt) x Reader. Reader has turned and resists her hunger.

- Thomas Shelby x Deaf!Reader.

-Paul Atreides x Reader. Jessica takes on Reader as a student and Paul falls slowly in love.

- Dark!Paul Atreides x Reader. Paul is married to someone else, but forces you to be with him instead.

- Paul Atreides x Princess!Reader. Arranged Marriage AU where they meet for the first time.

- Dark!Paul Atreides x Reader. Arranged Marriage AU on their wedding night and keen to make an heir.

- Geralt of Rivia x Male!Reader. A tale of Geralt and a child's friendship over the years.

- PEAKY BLINDERS AUTHOR'S CHOICE

- Geralt of Rivia x Reader. Geralt keeps Reader locked at Kaer Morhen.

Phew!! Let's tally it up folks! That's 10 for Dune, 6 for Peaky Blinders, 1 for Game of Thrones, 1 for Midnight Mass, and 2 for Witcher!! Making 20 requests altogether. Before i sign off there's two things i wanna shout out.

First is this request.

[ Text Description: hi! idk if u accept requests and if u do, pls i'd love thomas shelby with a deaf! reader. i'm deaf and would love to see more imagines with characters with disabilities (not only with deafness)!

if it helps, i have profound loss on one side and moderate to severe on the other side. i can even hear """"well"""" but it depends a lot. i can't hear loud sounds at close range like gun shots (this is "common" here and i've never heard it) and idk sign language. i'm talking about my deafness bc each person has different experiences.

i hope u can do this! if u want, u can even ask me! for that or bc of curiosity <3 that would be really cool!]

Wow. In my four years of publishing fanfic, this is my first ever deaf request. I'm so, so, so honored and floored. I will be absolutely working with @smellyzcat to make this request as representative and accurate as possible. My personal goal as a fanfic writer is make fanfic as diverse, representative, and universal as possible. This request made me really happy and I cant wait to write it!

Secondly. I saw this today.

[Text Description: It’s a Kee here. With a not request request. I want you to give me something peaky blinders that YOU have been wanting to write, but haven’t had the chance to yet. ]

KEE?!?! KEE????!!! MY LOVE?! MY BELOVED!? Excuse me while I foam out of my mouth?!?!? KEE!! ohohohohoho my sweet girl. Good to see you, old friend. She's been around since my Bang Bang! fanfic days. In fact, here's a link to her incredible Ramsay Bolton Modern Day/ Mafia AU fic Guns for Hire. She no longer writes for Ramsay, but she's a fabulous writer and an incredible friend. Unfortunately for all of you, her request means she's unleashing something terrible in me >:)

Thank you all for your requests. Really, I am excited to write each and every one of these. I feel like I receive a happy lil Christmas gift every time I get a ping! in my inbox.

If you have any ideas or requests, please leave them here. If you feel uncomfy leaving me an ask or want to go more in depth with your request, feel free to message me as well. I am more than happy to work with anyone regarding their request.

See you Wednesday!

- Crow