#for two very different reasons. Both very Doctor Who though.

[doctorwho2022]

Doctor Who episodes that aired on the 2nd of December…

In 1967, The Ice Warriors Four

In 1978, The Androids of Tara Part Two

In 2018, It Takes You Away

[nopanamaman]

What’s the deal with Tsar and Arthur?

Today we’ll look at the two most popular members of Sanya and Yura’s friend group, Tsar and Arthur, a.k.a. Anger Management. How did they meet? What’s their life like? And most importantly, why the hell are they so angsty?

Let’s start with the older one.

Arthur Sokolov

Joining the orphanage

Arthur was brought to the orphanage not long after being born. He never met any of his parents.

Growing up in a state-funded shelter meant developing a clear understanding of what kinds of behaviours will and won’t result in getting your shit kicked in. You can’t be too cocky, and you can’t be too weak. Follow the hierarchy, but don’t let your fear of elders show.

Arthur learned to navigate that little society well. He had earned respect among kids his own age and younger, and avoided being pushed around by the older teenagers too much. Less due to a noble heart and more because of being too proud to act like a doormat. 

However, that didn't make him immune to peer pressure.

Correctional psychiatry

Business trip.

Many low-end orphanages across the former USSR had been essentially transformed into incubators for future gang members. “Businessmen”, either by bribe or threat, came to these institutions to recruit impressionable children into their organisations. One such uncle visited Arthur’s foster home.

For kids like him, the course of action was simple:

misbehave;

get sent to a mental institution for corrective treatment;

sneak as many bottles of trihexyphenidyl as you can into your bag during your stay;

leave the hospital as normal;

transfer the trihexyphenidyl to a gang representative and get your paycheck.

Under that business model, Arthur became a frequent guest at psychiatric wards. Having witnessed their indifference and medical callousness firsthand, he had developed a massive disdain for all kinds of mental health professionals.

It started even before joining the gang, of course – way before. It’s hard not to foster a vendetta when you get thrown to the looney bin for any misstep. At first he tried to honestly convince the doctors working there that he was fine, but he eventually realised it was futile: they were always in on the punishment.

Hustling continues

Arthur and Ivan at 15 and 17 respectively.

As Arthur grew older, he got more deeply involved with the gang’s activities alongside other kids. This meant participating in transfers, standing watch during certain deals, acting as a “treasure man” (i.e. hiding drugs in agreed upon places for clients to pick up), and so on. Fights were frequent.

He knew it was a slippery slope, but getting out was not an option – not an easy one, at least. This was the period during which he grew close to Ivan, who was commonly assigned to work with Arthur and other children from their institute.

They bonded on the basis of wanting to leave the business, though for different reasons: most of all, Ivan didn’t want to disappoint his grandma.

Getting out

First meeting with Yura.

The sudden disbandment of the gang was a relief to both Ivan and Arthur. A major member got caught and ratted almost everyone out, except for the dozens of orphans involved. So while Ivan went to turn himself in, Arthur got to walk free.

Before going, Ivan suggested Arthur replace him at his pop’s car repair salon. The boy seemed to have a knack for fixing things, and the two had developed a trusting relationship over their time working together.

While everything was looking fine, Arthur still wanted to destroy all traces of his activities - even those that couldn’t reasonably be tracked down to him. This led to him encountering Yura. Despite the very rocky start of their acquaintance, they went on to hang out together pretty regularly.

As of today, Arthur continues to do part-time at the workshop alongside Ivan. Both are committed to never getting back into the criminal business. Unless you count Sanya's Dynamo. Which you shouldn't. Having experienced what actual gangs are like, Arthur finds it hard not to look down at the girl's little roleplay.

Tsar

Joining the orphanage

Before coming to the orphanage, Tsar lived with his grandma. She died when he was 6. Since his parents had lost their parental rights due to alcoholism a couple years prior, there was only one place for him to go.

Tsar had a very hard time adjusting to the rigid hierarchy of the foster home. He was lucky enough to catch Arthur's attention and, in a sense, got scooped under his wing. The boy disliked relying on the older kid too much, but was too weak to stand on his own.

Gang involvement

How come mom lets you have two trips to the mental ward

Since Arthur got dragged into gang activities earlier than Tsar, the younger kid felt jealous. He, like most other children, fully bought into the romanticised idea of criminal life that was pushed by the uncles visiting the orphanage.

But as years went on, he saw the toll it had begun to take on Arthur. Tsar had taken a couple of correctional trips to mental wards as well, though he'd never participated in any illegal schemes. Those times were bad enough - he couldn't imagine going there again and again on purpose.

By the time Tsar would be old enough to get recruited into the business, Arthur forbade him from it. The kid still wanted to join to prove his worth, to earn his share, to show his guts. But his trust and respect for Arthur were stronger.

As much as he hated the idea, he stuck to the sidelines.

Contact with parents

Teatime with family.

Tsar’s parents reached out to him a couple years after he was transferred to the orphanage. He could only meet with them under supervision up until he was 13 years old. Afterwards they were allowed private meetings.

Today, he occasionally comes to visit them at their apartment. They still drink, but to Tsar, they just seem quiet and pitiful. He usually lends them the pocket money he receives from the orphanage. He knows they won't return it.

Anger Management

Ural models are known for their incredible durability and a baffling number of switches.

Tsar found a creative release in music and wrote songs to vent his frustrations. The orphanage had an old acoustic guitar that he learned to play, but it got completely broken when the boy was 13. After Arthur joined the workshop, he bought a black Ural from Ivan’s dad for cheap, upgraded its port, and gifted it to Tsar.

As it turned out, Ivan’s dad was hopping from one band to another in the 80s-90s, so he was happy to accommodate the kids' creative endeavours. He allowed them to use the spare garage space to practise and even supplied an incomplete drum set.

Tsar begged Arthur to back him up with drums. The latter begrudgingly agreed to learn them, but ended up really enjoying hitting barrels with sticks. Right now their band has a tiny local following, mostly in the face of Sanya Kazarina.

Some notes

I remember sitting down and reading about actual orphanage experiences in the post-soviet space – it was eye-opening, but also gave me a lot of material to work with, as heartless as that probably sounds. A lot of things simply clicked into place.

I didn't go into too much detail here, but FYI, I've downplayed the severity of certain situations. Trauma aside, I'd say both Tsar and Arthur got quite lucky in the end.

[chaos-in-deepspace]

LNDS: Bongo Butts | 18+

I should be going to bed but I forgot to do laundry so here I am, writing more content that nobody asked for. Just like motorboating them...when I see them butts. Just. WHAM BAM. Thanks for coming to my TED talk. Also hope you know I had to research different types of dump trucks for this fic.

Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. Warnings: Ass Slapping, Crack Fic, Playing their asses like they're bongos, Zayne's lost sanity, Rafayel is scandalized as per usual, you mentally scar Raf, Xavier is confused as per usual, but is he confused?, he does get you back tho

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

Xavier really did need to be more careful around you. He was the one who wanted you to date him first, in your defense. He chose you. And you wouldn't let a single day go by that you didn't prove why that was a horrible decision on his end. At the very least, he could claim that he was never bored with you around.

Today was supposed to be a lazy day. You two had off from all missions and were relaxing around the apartment since it was too damn hot to actually go outside. It also happened to be laundry day for Xavier, so he was dressed in his workout attire while his uniforms were being deep cleaned from all the dirt that accumulated on them during his missions.

Those shorts. They were so damn short. You'd even call it slutty because hot damn. His ass was just right there. It was staring at you. Hypnotizing you like it was a snake charmer. Your hands were already twitching in a grabby motion as you stared directly at those perfectly rounded globes on his backside. His beautiful bubble butt.

Xavier could feel your stare burning into him as he looked over his shoulder. He was just sun bathing by the window, laying on his stomach. So vulnerable to your upcoming attack.

"Something you need?" Damn, he already sounded suspicious. It might've been by how you were practically drooling with your hands up, ready to grab at him. It was a slight give away. He should've been more prepared though, because you lunged at him in that moment.

He only had time to turn slightly when you pushed him back on his stomach, sitting on his back to pin him down. Your hands took a fistful of his ass before you began hitting them with little force. Just watching them jiggle with every little slap of your hands.

You were cackling like a maniac as you continued your assault until he managed to maneuver you off of him. You were laughing, your cheeks flushed as you almost teared up. His entire face was red as he stared at you in horror. Then you saw a flash in his eyes and you knew you were done for.

He grabbed you, pulling you onto his lap. Then you felt a harsh slap at your ass, making you squeal. It was so much rougher than you had hit him. He stared at your back side and did it again.

"I can see why you found this so entertaining. I think I'll play with this for now."

"Unhand me you creatine!"

"I think not, if I let you go, who knows what else you'll do to me."

Zayne

Anyone who has ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on Akso's best Cardiac Surgeon knew that one thing was a pure fact. He had an ass. His doctor's coat did a good job concealing it, but he couldn't wear it all the time. You had even noticed a few nurses who would glance down at him when he passed them in the hallway.

It was something you knew very well about Zayne, and something the man seemed oblivious to. The man didn't just have a dump truck as a rear end, it was a dump trailer. That shit could keep a family fed for an entire year. It was so perfect in every way. You could grab onto one cheek with both hands and you still wouldn't be able to capture the entire thing.

Yet for some reason, Zayne had no idea just how badly you needed his ass. You would often times find yourself staring at it when you hung out, had an appointment, or were just lounging at the apartments. It plagued your thoughts. You were losing sleep over this. It wasn't good for your health.

"Zayne..." You said as you relaxed on the couch next to him. You two were catching up on a TV show that you started well over a month ago but hadn't had time to really enjoy it.

"Yes, did you need something?" Oh how sweet he was, always looking out for you.

"Yes actually...can you lay down on your stomach for me? I wanna do something." You said, knowing that this man would do just about anything you asked. He eyed you for a moment, contemplating if he wanted to play this game with you.

"Might I inquire as to why?"

"That's for me to know, and you to find out."

Zayne took one more moment before giving in. He adjusted his position, laying down on his stomach just as you had asked. You decided to be subtle, leaning over his form and placing your hands on his shoulders at first. You gently caressed the skin there, massaging the muscles through his shirt as you slowly made your way down to the small of his back.

There it was. The prize. The holy grail of all asses. It was ripe for the taking as you looked over to see Zayne's closed eyes as he relaxed under your touch. You didn't hesitate. Your hands slapping down on his ass and grabbing it roughly.

His eyes shot open as he looked over at you. You licked your lips as you began gently slapping the flesh, watching the bounce as though it were made of jelly. It was a sight to behold and you couldn't help yourself. You had seconds before Zayne reacted and pulled your grubby little hands off him.

So you leaned your head in and bit down. His pants managed to cushion him from the force of your bite, but he sure as hell felt it. He sat up and grabbed you under the arms like a cat, stopping you in your tracks as you stared at him.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Playing with your nice ass."

"My butt is not a play thing."

You paused for a moment, eyes trailing down to the front of his pants, "If you aren't gonna let me slap your ass, can I play with your dick like it's a Bop-It?"

You watched Zayne go through five stages of grief. He sighed as he grabbed a blanket next to him, wrapping your entire body like a burrito so your limbs were no longer effective. He then sat back down on the couch with his legs open and placed you between, holding you tightly to his chest.

"I'm begging you, please be quiet for once and let's finish this show."

Rafayel

He should've known you were up to something if your gaze was anything to go off of. You had zeroed in on him the moment you had come over. Even during your little date as you two explored Linkon together, he knew something was up. Your not so subtle glances in his direction couldn't be considered innocent.

If only he knew why you were staring so hardcore. He had gotten a new pair of pants, or at least you assumed they were new. You were pretty sure you'd remember them with how good he looked at the moment. It was tight on him, accentuating his ass perfectly. You were pretty sure if you riled him it would also perfectly outline another aspect of him.

Still, you had a mission. Rafayel didn't know it yet, but the moment you had caught a glimpse of him this morning, you knew what had to be done. His muffins needed to be squished. His plump little cushions had to be properly admired and worshipped. You would be the one to happily give them the attention they deserved. An ass sculpted by the gods themselves were staring at you literally all day.

You closed the door to his home slowly, turning over to him. He was already heading to the living room. You slowly stalked behind him, and he could feel you were up to no good.

"Something caught your interest? I know I look good, but not even you normally stare at me this much."

"I just think you look particularly handsome today is all." As does his ass. You couldn't say that yet though, he would realize what your plans were if you verbalized it too early. Like a cat stalking a mouse, you followed him until he was in the living room. The moment he was by the couch you took action.

You rushed behind him and pressed down on the small of his back, making him stumble forward. He grabbed the edge of the couch, his body hunched over. Rafayel turned just in time to watch you drop down to your knees. Then he felt your hands harshly gripping his ass. Then the quick slaps in succession followed as you began laughing maniacally.

"Finally!" You said as you grabbed at them again. Rafayel finally reacted, rolling onto the couch to get away from your hands. You were practically panting as your hands twitched, "Come on Raf, lemme just squeeze em again."

"You are a psychopath." He said, hiding his ass from your view.

"I'm your psychopath though." Despite how horrified Rafayel looked, he was also amused by your antics. He grabbed at your arm, making you fall forward and your chest pressing against his own. His hands went to grab at your ass this time, squeezing them and laughing.

"You know, I think I'm seeing the appeal of this." He commented, his hands lazily hitting your ass cheeks like you had to him, although he was far more calm about it.

"See, it's amazing...now can I go back to playing with your butt? I wasn't done yet."

"I think not...although this has given me an idea. Do you mind if I paint your backside?"

"You wanna paint on my ass?"

"Perhaps."

"...I'll agree if you let me eat your-" Rafayel had never cut you off so quickly.

"Never mind."

The most accurate representation of what we're doing to these poor men. I will not be silenced. Their asses need to be slapped. And ate

[authorhjk1]

Since you're a fellow Fromis_9 nagyung enjoyer do you think you could do a nagyung short about her and her significant other trying to sneak around the other members to find “a quiet moment to themselves”

Nowhere to hide

(Lee Nagyung X Male Reader)

You hate lying. If there is something everyone knows about you, it's that you don't lie. Never.

"Oh no! I hope it doesn't hurt too much?"

Being the caring woman she is, Lee Saerom looks at you with love in her eyes as she hears what happened.

"Well, the doctor said he shouldn't be alone for a while, since he can't walk properly."

You are able to send an angry glare in your girlfriend's direction.

This isn't how it was supposed to go.

The members of Fromis_9 planned on going on a two week trip to Hawaii. The flight was booked for today and everyone was already at the airport. Except for your girlfriend.

Nagyung still has to do a shoot for her new drama in two days. Which would've meant that she would have flown to Hawaii later.

Because you have to work, there was no way you could come with them. That's why you and Nagyung decided to use the two days of this weekend to enjoy each other's company. Aka fuck like rabbits, until one of you passes out.

But to your dismay, your alone time didn't last very long. Nagyung was already on your lap, grinding her ass onto your cock. Your pants were around your ankles, your wet dick leaving small marks on her blue jeans. Your messy kiss made her moan into your mouth.

Suddenly both of you heard the electronic lock getting unlocked. Nagyung quickly got off your lap and you were able to cover yourself with one of the blankets on the couch.

The seven girls weren't that surprised to see you. You are Nagyung's boyfriend after all. They explained that the bad weather, which is now haunting the whole Korean peninsula, made air traffic come to a halt. Which means that they would stay home.

And being the thoughtless, horny maniac she is, Nagyung told everyone that you would have to stay with her over the weekend.

"He almost got hit by a car!"

She exclaimed, after the girls asked for the reason.

She wasn't lying at that point in time. You really almost got run over by a car on the way to their dorm. The woman ignored the red light and drove over your right foot. It hurt a little, but it wasn't bad.

But you definitely did not see a doctor. Because it already stopped hurting.

You know why Nagyung said it though. This girl lives for sex. She literally can't help it. It might come from the fact that she always lives with her members and just has barely any opportunity to satisfy her carnal desires like a normal person.

But it can't be the only reason. You noticed very early into your relationship with her, how addicted Nagyung is to sex. She could do it anytime anywhere. Whenever you were the one who initiated something, she was already dripping wet. It didn't matter where you were, or what you did. A restaurant date, a stroll through the park, hanging out with her members, shopping. Nagyung would always find a way to get what she wanted.

But it's not always as great as it sounds. Of course you like to have sex with her. But Nagyung is just different. The longer the time period without sex, the more aggressive she becomes. You wonder, if you just deny her long enough, would she just drop to the her knees in the middle of a shopping mall and suck you off? Maybe.

But the longer this sexless period becomes, the less she is interested in your pleasure as well. Nagyung does care for you. But if she has to wait for too long, your needs come second.

Which brings us back to the present. The eight girls stand in the living room of their dorm, Nagyung in front of you, next to Saerom.

You are aware that with only one movement of her hand, you would be sitting completely naked in front of all of them.

"Why don't you unpack your things again, girls? The weather forecast said it's gonna take a while, until we can fly again."

You sigh in relief, when the members follow Nagyung's advice.

As soon as the last one leaves the room, you throw the blanket off your lap. Nagyung drops to her knees again, just like she did a couple of minutes ago. You expect her to help you with putting your pants back on. Instead, Nagyung puts her elbows on your knees, taking your cock into her hand.

"Nagyung..."

You watch in disbelief as she wraps her lips around your tip.

"What the fuck are you doing? They will be back in a second."

Nagyung glares at you as you pull her off your cock.

"I'm so fucking horny. I need you right now."

"Later."

You hiss at her, closing the zipper of your pants.

A second later, Jiheon and Soyeon stand in the doorway.

One hour later~

You are still sitting on the couch. Some of the girls have joined, wanting to keep you company and distract you from the pain in your foot. When the movie you are now watching started, Saerom put the blanket back onto your lap, wanting to take care of you. Nagyung, who is sitting on your left, while Saerom, Jiwon and Hayoung are sitting on your right, uses this opportunity to invade your privacy.

You feel her hand on your thigh first, the blanket covering it. After barely a minute (she couldn't hold out longer) her hand starts to move towards your crotch. Moving your head, you glare at your girlfriend.

"Nakko..."

You whisper, trying to stop her.

But you know she won't. At the seame time, she uses her other hand to take one of yours. She slowly guides it towards her own core.

A moment later, you find yourself rubbing your girlfriend's pussy over her jeans, while her fingers wrap around your cock. You are afraid that one of the girls could just turn her head.

But nothing happens as Nagyung slowly makes you unzip her jeans. You know she isn't wearing underwear. She barely does. Especially not at home.

You dip a finger inside of her, making her sigh. Giving Nagyung another glare, you try to tell her to be quiet. If you can be silent, surely she can be too.

Her thumb draws circles on your tip, while she slowly pumps your cock. You finger her slowly, still afraid of getting caught.

"You guys wanna order some food?"

Your heart drops as you hear Jiheon's voice.

As the maknae walks in, you quickly pull your finger out of Nagyung's wet cavern. Your girlfriend still has her hand wrapped around your cock, but she at least stopped stroking you.

"Or we could just cook, you know?"

Saerom turns her head to look at Jiheon.

"Are you gonna cook?"

Jiwon looks at their leader.

"Well..."

You feel how Nagyung starts to stroke your cock again. Very very slowly. But it still makes you shift around a little.

"Don't worry Saerom. We can cook together. The movie is over anyways."

You were so focused on not getting caught for the last couple of minutes that you didn't even notice.

As you watch how the four of them head to the kitchen, Nagyung is already tugging at your hand. The two of you close the door of her room behind you a moment later.

"Oh god. You have me so fucking wet."

You can't answer Nagyung, because she gets on her tiptoes and puts her tongue into your mouth.

Not that you are complaining. Her teasing, no matter how dangerous it was, left you horny as well. You quickly sit down on the edge of her bed as Nagyung straddles you once more. She grinds her core against yours, getting off on how hard she made you.

"Give it to me. I need to get fucked."

She breathlessly whispers into your mouth, before the two of you break away for air.

A moment later, Nagyung is on her knees, your pants are around your ankles once more. Her blowjob is quick and effective. She knows how to push your buttons and she is making use of that.

"Fuck, Nakko."

A couple of moments later, Nagyung stands up and walks over to the bed on the other side of the room. She takes Jiheon's plushy. A small brown bear, holding a red heart.

"I need this, because you are going to fuck me hard now."

She pushes the chair away from the desk between the beds, bending over.

"Fuck me like you hate me."

With that, your girlfriend puts the bear into her mouth, biting down on it.

You are not surprised that it fits inside. And you are not surprised at her words. When she is this horny, Nagyung doesn't care about her own wellbeing. As long as she is getting fucked.

You quickly stand behind her, unbuttoning her jeans.

"Fuck you are tight."

You groan as you push inside of Nagyung. The jeans around her knees press her legs together, making her tighter than usual.

Saerom and Jiwon seem to argue in the kitchen. You can hear their distant voices as you start to take your girlfriend from behind. Just like she wanted. No build up. No going slowly. You are supposed to fuck her like you hate her.

Quickly, the sound of your hips snapping against her ass cheeks fill the otherwise silent room. Nagyung's moans are muffled by the stuffed bear in her mouth. Her knuckles turn white as she holds onto the edge of the desk. Both your hands hold onto her waist as you marvel how tight and fit Nagyung's body feels underneath your palms.

"Swpnk mwe."

You barely catch what she is trying to say. But knowing your girlfriend, you can guess what she is asking for.

Your tear one of your hands off her waist. It hits her left cheek a moment later. The sound is louder than you fucking her. Afraid that someone might have heard you, you wait a couple of thrusts, until you spank her again.

Nagyung's skin starts to turn red as you take out your anger at her on her cheeks. The way her pussy squeezes around you, tells you how well you are doing. She is barely able to keep it together. To hold the bear inside her mouth must be hard for her. She lost her hold on the edge of the desk a couple of thrusts ago. Now her nails scratch the wooden surface.

"Mm my gowd!"

You hear Nagyung scream into the stuffed bear. The sign that she is close to her first orgasm of the day. If it weren't for the members, you would've made her cum several times already.

"Unnie!"

You heart freezes. And so does the rest of your body as you hear Jiheon's voice behind the door.

Before you are even able to think, you leave Nagyung's slick pussy. She is still too groggy to actively help you as you pull her jeans back up. Jumping under the covers, you take Nagyung with you, making her sit on the edge of the bed. You would get teased if Jiheon would find the both if you lying in the same bed.

"Come in."

You manage to say, right as the maknae opens the door.

The way Nagyung squeezes your hand tells you that she is raging inside. And hornier than ever. In that split second, she would've preferred getting caught, instead of failing to reach her orgasm.

"We are done cooking. Oh, how cute you guys look."

Jiheon's eye smile makes it hard to get worked up about her teasing the two of you.

"In a minute."

You say, very aware of the fact that you are still naked from the waist down.

9 pm~

You groan in disbelief. Nakko can't be serious. Checking the text you just got from her, you shake your head.

"Eat me out💦"

"We are still eating!!!"

"Don't you want dessert"

There is no use in arguing with her.

Walking out of the bathroom, you try to come up with a way to not make this mission too obvious. Luckily, everyone is glued to Jisun's phone. Seems like she is showing the girls a funny video.

Reaching the table, you quickly drop to your knees, getting underneath it. Finding Nagyung's lower half, you put your hands on her ankles. You feel her flinch, when you touch her.

You make your way up her legs, trying to at least build a little bit of anticipation. Once you reach her waist, you start to undo Nagyung's jeans once again. She slightly raises her hips, enabling you to pull them down to her ankles.

Now that you have a good view of your girlfriend's snatch. You realize that she wasn't completely off. You really want dessert now. Its wet folds invite you to have taste. The scent of vanilla invades your nostrils, evidence of the fact that Nagyung is very conscious about how she smells.

Instead of just diving in, you start to pepper her inner thighs with small kisses. It makes her legs quiver in need. The heat coming from her core increases as you keep teasing Nagyung. You start to lick the skin of her thighs from the bottom to the top, just stopping an inch away from her pussy.

Once you've worked her up well enough, you place your tongue right below her snatch. You trace the outlines of her lips, getting your first taste of your girlfriend's pussy for tonight. Because of the strong vanilla scent, it almost seems like she tastes like vanilla herself.

You feel Nagyung's leg tensing, when you finally press your tongue flat against her pussy. Her toes start to curl into the carpet underneath the table as you start to properly eat her out. The other girls' voices seem to fade into the distance as Nagyung's thighs start to close around your head. You like the feeling of them wrapped around you as you indulge in your dessert.

Your hands are placed on her waist, your fingertips exploring her tight midriff. Nagyung either wears something very comfortable, or something very sexy at home. It depends on her mood and the time of the day. Either way, she always ensures that you have quick access to any area you need to stimulate for her to cum. Her midriff being one of them. Nagyung loves the way you adore her tight body and with that, her discipline and hard work. She gets wet when ever you praise her. It doesn't have to be in a sexual way though. A simple "Your food tastes great." can make her rub her thighs together in need of stimulation.

You feel like you are in your own world as you enjoy your girlfriend's pussy. It's something that happens quite a lot actually. Especially when the two if you don't have time or a quiet place, like today. In moments like this, her needs come before yours. You are happy going with that, knowing that she will reward you even more, when the time comes.

You hear Nagyung stutter a reply, when Jiheon asks her something. Your girlfriend is slowly starting to lose her composure. Wanting to punish her for taking such risks, you start to suck on her clit.

The switch up makes Nagyung's legs shake once more. You know that she is close already. Her juices are starting to make her pussy glisten in the dim light underneath the table.

Another flick of your tongue against her clit and Nagyung finally becomes undone. Her hand reaches down to take a handful of your hair into her fist, trying to find an outlet for her pleasure. Her thighs threaten to suffocate you as they close around you, shaking.

"Are you alright, Nakko?"

Your eyes widen in fear of getting caught. It would be really awkward if someone would look under the table right now.

"Y-Yes, unnie. T-The food is just very delicious."

Nagyung answers Hayoung with her shaky voice.

9:45 pm~

"Are you sure this isn't too much for your foot?"

You almost sigh in annoyance. Not because of Saerom, who asked the question, because of Nagyung who made you stick to her lie.

"Don't worry, noona. It's not bad. Plus, we will be sitting the whole time anyway."

The girls spontaneously decided to go watch a movie, after Jisun showed them a funny trailer on her phone.

Nagyung convinced the others that you and her should take your car, while her members walk to the cinema, since it's not far, but your foot still hurts. All were okay with it, except Saerom. Being the caring leader she is, she wanted to make sure that you are doing alright. You knew why Nagyung suggested for you two to get into the car alone. She is now sulking in backseat. You can't help but glance at her occasionally.

Nagyung couldn't have been more clear about her intentions, once she stepped out of her room, after she changed her outfit. Her black top exposed just enough skin to not be inappropriate at a movie theater. Her skirt is the highlight of her outfit. And you know, why she is wearing one.

She catches you glancing a couple of times. With flirty winks or suggestive looks at her core, she makes it clear to you what she is expecting to happen soon.

10: 30 pm~

The movie had already begun and you enjoy the bucket of popcorn that is sitting on your lap. You are sharing it with Nagyung, who is sitting on your left. The other members are sitting in order of age on your right, Jiheon being the one sitting right next to you.

After a jump scare early on, the maknae instinctively buried her head in your shoulder, trying not to look at the screen. After Nagyung regained her composure, she saw what was going on. You knew that this would only fuel her desire for your cock even more. The fact that Jiheon is physically intimate with you isn't a new thing. It's more like a brother/sister relationship. And yet, Nagyung's narrowed eyes, which glisten in the dark theater, tell you that you are in for a long and rough night.

Your girlfriend finally jumps into action halfway through the movie. While she has been holding your hand this entire time, Jiheon kept hugging your arm, whenever she was afraid of another jump scare.

When you glance at Nagyung again, she gives you a meaningful look. You can't hold her back as you see her getting off her seat. She gets on her knees in front of you. The dark theater and the rather dark movie make her almost invisible.

You feel her pushing the bucket of popcorn a little higher, making room for her head underneath. From now on, you feel more than you see what she is doing. Her hands unbuckle your belt in silence, before she unzips your pants. Pulling down your boxers a little bit, your cock falls victim to her tongue.

Nagyung starts to suck you off in the middle of the theater. The girls and you aren't even the only once present. You shift around in your seat as Nagyung takes you deeper into her warm mouth. She is trying to stay quiet, but you can feel her hum in blissful delight at the taste of your cock.

You almost scream internally as Jiheon reaches inside the bucket on top of Nagyung's head. She pushes it down a little as she searches for a handful of popcorn. The unexpected push forces Nagyung further down your cock. In that moment, you are thankful for the fact that Nagyung got used to your size early on in your relationship. Even when your cock is halfway down her throat, just like right now, she is able to fight her gag reflex like a pro. The beautiful and lewd sounds and slurps she usually does for show are replaced by silent anticipation and determination.

Once Jiheon's hand leaves the bucket, Nagyung gets back to properly giving you head. Her hands now rest on your thighs as she starts to fuck her face with your cock. Silently of course. But hot as fuck nonetheless. You can't tell how long you will be able to keep it together. Is she going to make you nut right here?

You feel Nagyung's tongue play with the underside of your shaft, whenever she lifts her head off your cock. Afterwards, you hit the back of her throat, when she buries her face in your lap again. There is pretty much no sound coming from her. You are actually amazed at how good she is. And at the same time, you realize that you won't be able to stay silent for much longer. If she keeps going, you're gonna cum in the middle of the theater.

You are glad when Nagyung finally lifts her head off your cock completely. But your heart sinks once more, when she announces in a slightly raspy voice:

"I'm cold, oppa. Can we cuddle some more?"

Before you can protest, Nagyung is already sitting on your lap. Or rather on your cock. The bucket has moved to her own lap now. Apart from Chaeyoung and Jiheon, who glance at your direction, no one really cares. Except for Jiheon, who has a teasing grin on her face.

You feel your girlfriend grinding against your hard, wet cock, fitting it between her perfect cheeks. Resigning to your inevitable fate, you reach under Nagyung's skirt. No panties. Who would've thought? You wrap one arm around her waist, while the other aligns your cock with her wet core. Nagyung seems to have gotten off just as much as you by giving you head in public.

When she smoothly glides down your shaft, you can't help but sink your teeth into her naked shoulder to muffle your moan. Nagyung gasps, the others probably think because she is feeling cold.

But you know better. With both hands on her round ass cheeks, you lift Nagyung off your cock, after you've recovered from that initial spike of pleasure. Only your tip remains inside your girlfriend, before you slowly impale her on your cock again. You don't care about not being able to watch the movie. The way Nagyung's head slightly tilts back in pleasure is entertaining enough. Her pussy is leaving your cock coated with her juices, whenever you push her upwards.

"Too bad we can't go faster."

You whisper into her left ear, making sure Jiheon is oblivious.

Nagyung is too busy with biting her lip to be able to respond. It gives you control of the situation and you plan on using it to your advantage.

"You are such a slut."

Nagyung gasps as her ass meets your lap. You use your left hand to cover her mouth, while your right is flatly pressed against her midriff.

"You can't even wait a couple of hours, until we are alone, huh?"

You can't see Nagyung's head, but you can feel her shaking it.

"Needy whore."

You degrade her further with your words. Nagyung's pussy seems to tighten in response. The amount of juices that slowly trickle out of her makes her body glide down your cock like it's part of a well oiled machine.

"You would do anything for my cock. Right?"

She nods her head. Knowing that that's the only right answer. Even when she has you inside of her, just like right now, she would still do anything to keep you in place.

"Would you even let me fuck one of the girls?"

Nagyung immediately shakes her head.

You wouldn't have asked that question, if it wasn't for her search history. She asked you to google something on her phone a couple of days ago, because yours was out of battery and she was busy. Like the thoughtless, horny maniac she is, Nagyung didn't use the private tab option, or erased her browser history, after her sinful alone time.

You don't have anything against her watching porn. You can barely keep up with her sex drive anyway. And it's not like she has to watch it out of frustration, because you don't perform. It's just a way for her to get rid off just a little bit of stress.

Anyway, you know what kind of stuff she is usually looking for. And recently a new category has been popping up in her browser history several times. You were surprised to see it at first, because Nagyung is usually quite possessive of you. Your girlfriend seems to like porn, where the wife/girlfriend watches her man fuck her friend. Or at least have a threesome with a female friend.

"You don't want to watch how one of the girls give me head?"

You never really thought about her members like this before. Of course the are pretty. But you are in a relationship with Nagyung. And while she shakes her head again, you feel how her body is trying to tell you yes.

You ponder for a moment, if you should go further. Maybe mention someone in particular?

In that moment, Nagyung leans back against you, since she has kept her back straight this entire time. Her head leans against your shoulder. You see the teeth marks you left in her own. Nagyung carefully bites your hand, signaling you that she wants to say something. You release her off your grip.

"A-All o-of t-them."

Her needy moan makes you see stars. Is she actually serious? Even now, you don't actually consider doing this. It's just dirty talk to you. It's only there for making sure that you drive Nagyung over the edge as soon as possible.

"All of them?"

You cover her mouth again, so Nagyung is only able to nod.

"I bet Jiheon is really tight."

That sentence is all she needed. With a strong bite into your hand, Nagyung orgasms in your lap. It hurts. Not just her teeth, but her pussy as well. Because Nagyung is trying to stay silent, her entire body is already tense. It makes the muscles of her vagina work overtime, almost strangling your cock.

Luckily, she is able to stay silent. But you are now unable to hide your desire to finish yourself. You can't do that here though.

"Restroom. One minute."

Once Nagyung recovers, you squeeze her ass cheek as hard as you can, making her flinch in pain. Punishment for being such a naughty girlfriend.

1 am~

You never made it to the restroom. Both of you were unaware of what was going on around you. You only realised that the movie was over, when the members started to get up, once by one. It was still dark though, so you were able to pull your pants back up, before anyone noticed.

Now you are lying on the couch, staring at the white ceiling of the dorm's living room. All the girls are asleep. But you know it won't take long until...

And there she is. You hear her door open. And a moment layer, Nagyung is underneath the blanket.

2 am~

You have switched positions several times by now. First, Nagyung gave you head again, wanting you to be as hard as possible. You focused on her pussy next, eating her out to completion and earning a cute thank you. Nagyung rode you afterwards. Her hands on your shoulder, while she enjoyed the feeling of bouncing on your cock again and again. Then, you decided to bend her ove the back rest of the couch. You fucked your girlfriend hard and fast, making her cum for a forth time today.

She is now sitting on your lap, slowly riding you. After having satisfied her throughout the day, it is now her turn to offer her body to you in any way you want it.

You lean back, a little tired since it's late already, and just watch Nagyung slowly bounce up and down. Wanting to show off, she lets her hands wander over her midriff. You follow them with your eyes. Nakko plays with her own breasts, her head falling back as she enjoys the slow love making.

Eventually, she looks back down at you, smiling.

"I love you so much, oppa."

She kisses your lips. Her vanilla scent is still there, but one hour of fucking makes her smell a little sweaty. Evidence of having a good time.

"I love you too, Nakko."

You put your arms around her, holding onto one of your wrists with your other hand. It presses your girlfriend's body against yours, trapping her in your embrace.

"Why do you always have to be such a naughty brat?"

"Nagyung is no brat. She is just a needy slut for oppa's cock."

You're surprised that Nagyung is doing aegyo now.

"Is that so? Then why did Nagyung make me lie?"

"I just told you."

She pouts at you.

"Nagyung can't live without oppa's dick inside of her."

"What do you want oppa to do now?"

You play her little game, knowing how much it turns her on. Although, there isn't really something you can do that wouldn't turn her on. Nakko really is yours.

"Nagyung wants oppa to blast her face with cum. He must've build up a really big load throughout the day."

You can't say she is lying. After all these shenanigans, you are ready to finally let go of it all.

When you don't respond, because you want to see what happens next, Nagyung pouts at you.

"If... If you don't want to, you could come on someone else's face. Jiheon for example. Just let Nagyung watch please?"

You can't believe how far she is going with this.

"Would you wake her up?"

You feel Nagyung tightening around you as her pussy is still gliding along your shaft.

"No, oppa. Just cum on her. I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

You wonder for a moment if that's actually true. The idea makes you want to cum right now.

"Alright. If you promis to be a good girl from now on, I will cum on your face."

Her smile seems to light up the room.

"Thank you, oppa. Nagyung will be a good girl for oppa."

You help her with getting off of you. Nagyung quickly gets on her knees, ready to blow you to completion. She greedily sucks on your cock, big eyes looking up at you. You are almost there already. Nagyung is only able to get a couple of sucks and licks in, before you take your cock out of her mouth.

Her eyes give you permission to completely ruin her face. Wit your cock in your hand, you quickly get off the couch. A second later, you start to cum all over Nagyung. She blissfully gasps in surprise, when she feels your hot semen coat her face. Her lips, cheeks, nose, eyes, none of it got spared. You aim a little lower, making your last shots hit her collarbone and tits.

"Oppa..."

Nagyung sighs lustfully, her lips still connected by a string of cum, even when she speaks.

"This was worth lying about. Am I not right?"

Her cheeky grin makes you take a fistful of her long, silky hair.

"Let's see what Jiheon says, when she wakes up and sees your face covered in my cum."

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

Hi everyone!

Once again, I have to apologize for not being able for keeping this short. I planned on spending 20 minutes on it at most. It took me way more in the end. Hope you guys will be able to enjoy it anyways.

Because of some issues with Tumblr, I lost the last scene completely and had to rewrite it, so I apologize if it feels a little bit rushed. After losing like 20 minutes of work, I just wanted to finish it and post it.

The aegyo stuff is probably something not all of you are into, but I wanted to try and write the duality Nagyung sometimes has.

Thank you for reading!

Stay healthy!

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

Sass & Suspenders

Legal AU: Prosecutor!Bucky x Female!Doctor!Reader

You and Bucky are both professionals in a long term relationship, but you like to mix things up once in a while despite the humdrum of life.

Warnings: smut, 18+ only, minors please leave

Word Count: 2,953

A/N: Because I have a thing for men in suspenders and I've thought about this for far too long.

Bucky groaned. But not one iota of the deep articulation of the sound that escaped his lips was rooted in any form of pleasure. You shared the sentiment. Taxes - who ever enjoyed doing those?

"Do we have to?" he whined.

"You promised!" you admonished, knowing full well that if he persisted in his protests, you would succumb to his point of view. 

The pout you received in response was almost as good as his closing arguments. It was 9pm and you had both left your busy jobs to spend an evening together completing your tax returns. Your relationship had most certainly reached the pinnacle of excitement. 

Heaving a sigh of resignation, you nudged your boyfriend towards the study you shared. The two of you had been putting off the chore for several weeks and you had finally laid down the law to your handsome attorney.

"I'm tired."

"So am I, but it has to be done. Come on."

Despite the fact that your crazy careers that kept you busy until ridiculous hours, the two of you found a way to do something together, even if it was only sleeping. Early in your relationship, there had been a number of rescheduled or incomplete dates, but the offending party would make it up to the other with their favorite cupcake the following day. In all honesty you were surprised that you hadn't gained a tonne of weight because of the quantity of cake you had consumed.

It wasn't long before you knew that Bucky was the one for you and you apprehensively admitted your feelings to him. To your immense relief, he reciprocated those feelings and in no time at all you'd moved in together and were filling out tax returns like an old married couple. It was incredible how well you synced with each other, in spite of your differences. A difference that was evident on this auspicious evening.

When carrying out a task that needed concentration and an arduous undertaking, you liked to be comfortable, meaning you immediately changed into one of your chemise nightgowns. Bucky on the other hand felt the only way to concentrate was to roll up his shirt sleeves and dig in in full professional garb. He often said that staying in ‘character’ helped him focus.

Neither of you objected particularly to the other's choices, particularly when Bucky was wearing suspenders with his suits. You would never dare admit it, but you had developed an overwhelming fondness for seeing your sweetheart in suspenders. One might even describe it as a kink.

Before meeting Bucky, you had never met anyone under the age of 70 wearing suspenders. You considered it to be a quirk of many of your elderly patients. But for some reason, Bucky made it look like the height of fashion. Many a time you found yourself wondering what it would be like to grab a hold of the elasticated straps and pull him into your arms. Today happened to be one of those many distracting occasions that left you dazed and very much aroused. It was several moments before you acknowledged the fact that Bucky was leaning across the table in an attempt to meet your gaze.

"Hey there, doll," he gave you that lopsided grin that drove you nuts. "What happened to 'we must focus' and 'get this done tonight'?"

The flush on your face deepened. 

"What's going on in that brain of yours? You're kinda quiet."

You bit your lip, treating him to a coy smile. "I just have other things on my mind."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Just admiring how handsome my boyfriend looks."

"You looked like you were looking straight through me, not at me."

"Bucky, let's get back to this paperwork."

"No."

"No?"

"I want you to tell me what you were thinking about." His tone was low and commanding. Almost as though he already knew the dirty thoughts that had crossed your mind. 

You felt your pulse quicken. "May I plead the fifth, counselor?"

"No, doll. You're under my jurisdiction now. You're under oath to speak the truth."

"The whole truth?"

"Nothing but the truth."

"So help me God?"

"I'll be the only one here that can help you. Now tell me what you were thinking."

"How about I show you?" Rising from your chair, you sauntered over to Bucky's side of the large oak desk.

Sliding into his lap, you ran your fingers along the elastic straps of his suspenders, tracing the small grooves and indentations of the springy material.

"See something you like, doll?"

The groan that escaped your lips was nothing short of sinful. You wrapped one strap in each of your empty fists and tugged at them forcefully, pulling Bucky towards you until his mouth was barely an inch from yours. All words were forgotten on your part.

"Tell me what you want," he demanded, his voice so low you could barely make out his words through the carnal desire in his voice.

His lips were so close, you could practically taste a whiff of that last cup of coffee he had swallowed before leaving work. You watched the steely blue of his eyes shrink as his pupils expanded with arousal. Bucky's hands settled on either side of your face, his skin was on fire, or maybe it was yours, it was impossible to tell.

His lips brushed against yours lightly, so soft and it sent shivers through your nerves, shivers that made your whole body tremble. “If you want me to stop, tell me now,” he whispered. When you said nothing, he pressed his lips on yours a little harder, leaving a slightly sloppy kiss on your mouth. “How about now?” he asked. He traced a solitary finger along the line of your cheekbone. “Or now-”

The rest of his words were lost against your mouth. He kissed you gently, carefully, but it wasn’t gentleness you wanted, not now, not when it had been so long, and you knotted your fists tighter around his suspenders, pulling him harder against you. He groaned softly, low in his throat, and his arms circled you, gathering you against him.

All you wanted was Bucky, you wanted to feel him, all of him, pressing into you. You inhaled, breathing in his shaving cream, his cologne, that extra scent that was just...Bucky. The aroma was intoxicating and you were dizzy with desire to take him in. Parting your lips, you invited him. His tongue deftly entered your mouth, forcefully searching every possible crevice, teasing, tantalizing, tasting your unique flavor.

His hands slipped under the hem of your chemise, gently gliding his long digits across your sensitive abdomen, before moving them to your bountiful breasts, enjoying the way you whimpered and writhed every time he flicked one of your perky nipples. The electrifying sensations traveled through your body culminating in your arousal pooling in the meager piece of material covering your leaking lips. Before you had time to object, Bucky’s hands were splayed across the inside of your thigh, fingers creeping ever closer to your clothed clit.

"Mmm, objection," you hummed into his mouth.

Bucky unlocked his lips from yours, surprise and disappointment evident on his face. "Ok, I know, we have to get this done," he took his hand off your thigh and waved at the paperwork on the desk.

"Eager much?" your smirk insinuating at your meaning. You laughed and snapped one of his suspenders lightly. With the other hand, you swept your fingers over the bulge in his pants. "I have a counter argument."

"Oh?"

"Let me show you." Seductively, you slipped off his lap and knelt down between his legs. Looking up at his face, you watched the look of comprehension spread across his handsome features.

"Are you sure?" he asked, somewhat apprehensively. 

"Certain." The bulge seemed to be growing before your very eyes, straining at the seams of his pricey pants. "I've missed how you taste."

Bucky sucked in a breath in anticipation of your actions, eyes wide as you unzipped his pants and freed his hardening cock. Gently, you trailed your fingers up and down his shaft. "It's your turn to tell me what you want me to do to you."

"You know what I like, doll."

That you did. "I want to run my tongue over every inch of you." Lowering your head, you took him into your mouth, warm and soft, you took a moment to savor his taste. You hummed with appreciation, your tongue flickered and danced around the tip and instantly you felt him swelling and growing hard for you, his cock filling your mouth with every lick. 

You pulled back slightly as the head of his cock started to push against the back of your throat. "Tell me how good it feels. I want to hear you say it."

He groaned. The sound excited you, his body was coming alive for your mouth. You reached up to his chest, slipping your hand under the suspender strap and pushed down on his nipple.

"Oh doll, nobody has ever fucked me like you do," he cried as you worked your tongue over his frenulum. Bucky responded just as you wanted, the taste of pre-cum seeped into your mouth. He arched his back, eyes rolling backwards with pleasure.

Your free hand curled around his now rock hard member, with a loose grip, you gently moved your hand up and down encouraging the flow of more pre-cum from his tip to lubricate your actions and elicit the most ungodly moans from your boyfriend.

Hearing Bucky groaning so obscenely sent a tingle through your clit. After a pause, you tilted your head to take him further into your mouth, bobbing up and down with ease. His fingers mingled with your luscious locks as he guided your head gently as he tried not to trust too deeply into your throat. Bucky knew you often struggled to take him in completely and that he had to take care to not get too carried away in his bliss. 

It wasn't until he started cursing quietly under his breath in a way that made you come undone. You removed your mouth from his cock, "Buck, I can’t wait any longer… please I need you to fuck me."

"Doll, I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk tomorrow." He stood suddenly and pulled you to your feet effortlessly.

"Buck-" you whined. "Please, I need you. Touch me."

"Turn around."

You obeyed. His erection pressed against you was more than you could bear.

"Buck, fuck me like you mean it."

"I always mean it," he growled into your ear. He pushed you forward onto the desk, forcing you onto your elbows. Your chemise rose up as you bent over the thick table, exposing your ass. His cock rested comfortably between your thighs, eagerly twitching, ready for action. Your dripping wet pussy literally begged for it.

Bucky tugged at the strip of material that was the only thing keeping him from entering you. "Is this ok?"

"Oh God, yes," you exclaimed. At any other time, you may have been ashamed of your wanton cries, but right now you couldn't care less. All you wanted was to feel Bucky pushing into you, filling you up, making you pulse with pleasure around him in that way that no one else could compare.

"Not God, just me," he smirked.

At what felt like an excruciating slow pace, Bucky stroked your slit with his tip, collecting the succulent elixir that you had made, just for him. As he touched your clit, you shuddered deeply and gasped. You closed your eyes and focused on the ecstatic sensations that shot through your body as your opening stretched in receipt of his cock.

It was a good thing you were half sprawled across the sturdy table because your legs felt like jelly and would give way at any moment. As if Bucky could hear your thoughts, he curled his fingers around your hips, the tips pressed into your flesh salaciously.

"Oh Buck! I want you all the way inside me, give me all of you."

"Is that what you like, doll?"

"Yes, you know that’s what I like."

"I hope you're ready for this, because I know I am," Bucky purred.

He certainly was. He didn't hesitate in plunging himself further into you like sheathing a sword to its hilt. The force made you gasp with pain and surprise and the grimace on your face didn't go unnoticed. Bucky bent forwards, his abdomen pressed against your back and asked, "too much?"

"Tad too fast," you answered. "I may have been a little too hasty about what I asked for."

His new position had relieved some of the pressure and you felt a lot more comfortable and ready for him to try again. Bucky's breath was hot on your back and the wave of pain was now ebbing away, replaced by your impatient longing.

"Let's try something different, shall we?"

His fingers crept around you until he found your clit. Bucky encouraged you to spread your legs by nudging your knees apart. Slowly, his digits struck up a steady pace rhythm of slow movements, starting below and dragging up again and again, until your the bundle of nerves was flushed and firm under his fingers and your juices started leaking out around him. Not until your hips start undulating did Bucky try pushing back inside you. You had to admire his self control as he made you unravel with the smallest flick of his finger.

"Buck-"

"Doll?"

"If you keep fingering me like that, this is going to be over before you get the chance to have any fun."

"Watching you cum is extremely fun for me."

"You feel so delicious inside me, but I need you to fuck me with your cock."

Bucky was only too happy to oblige. Proceeding with caution, he pushed slowly until he was fully inside you. A burning sensation radiated through you as you stretched to let him in.

"How does that feel?" he asked slightly apprehensively.

"Exquisite!" you sighed. 

You shifted to make yourself comfortable before Bucky pulled out slowly, leaving you feeling empty inside. But you didn't have to wait long before he was thrusting back half inside you, making you gasp and moan. It was almost too much for Bucky, he was already struggling to control himself but he held back, wanting to give you as much pleasure as possible for as long as possible. In and out, he moved further with each thrust until he was sliding all the way into you, hands roaming over your exposed back.

“Bucky. Buck...” you murmured.

“Doll, a little louder for those of us in the back.”

“Does it turn you on?” you smiled.

“You’ll be screaming my name by the end of the night.” He rutted against you sharply in an unexpected rhythm. 

“Haha, you’re going to have to do better than tha-ahh,” you struggled to complete your answer as he slipped one hand between your 

thighs.

"Come on," he coaxed you by edging his fingers up your leg.

"Make me cum, counselor."

"On one condition."

"Name. It."

"You know what I want doll. Let me give you a taste of what you want." Devilishly, your boyfriend slipped his hand between your folds and gave your throbbing clit a few small flicks.

"Buck-uhhhh."

"That's right doll, just a little more," he grunted, starting to come undone himself. "Oh fuck, just a little more."

"Just a little more, Bucky!"

You pushed down against the hand he had clamped over your clit as he pounded against you mercilessly, all speech forgotten. Both of you panted and pumped away each chasing your release. There is was, that all too familiar knot at the bottom of your stomach. It spread through you like lightening, permeating every fiber of your being. "Bucky, oh Bucky, I'm-" you cried out.

Your walls fluttered around him pushing him to the brink of ecstasy. His thrusts became more and more erratic as you tightened around him.  Your whole body shook with pleasure. "Bucky!"

The sound of you screaming his name in euphoria was what made him pulse inside you. Arching his back, Bucky spilled his hot milky load while chanting your name under his breath. 

Neither of you moved for the longest time, you sprawled across the table with Bucky bent over your limp form.

"Buck," you finally worked up the energy to speak. 

"Mmmm?"

"I wish you could be inside me forever."

"Wouldn't that be nice," he smirked at the very thought.

For a few more moments, neither of you moved. 

"Buck?"

"Mmmm?"

"I think my arm fell asleep."

You could feel the rumble of his laughter flow into you. He slowly extricated himself from you, now you were only connected by the thin trail of his creamy elixir.

Bucky gripped your waist as you clumsily lowered yourself off the desk. "Looks like we made a mess of this." He waved his hand at the scattered receipts that were now strewn all over the table top.

"Next time don't wear suspenders if you want to avoid interruptions," you admonished him playfully while pulling your chemise back down to a comfortable position.

"Seriously, that's what turns you on?" Bucky wiped himself off and tucked himself back into his pants.

"They make you look distinguished!" You sighed and wrapped your hands around the offending article of clothing.

"So how would you feel if I put on some plaid pajamas?" Bucky raised an eyebrow.

"I don't think you should hold me responsible for what happens to you." Smiling, you pulled at the straps and led your bemused boyfriend to bed.

[alphajocklover]

I'd like to see how my life would have turned out, 20 years ago, had I joined my college football team instead of the college theater group.

Fuck. Fucking hell this fucking sucks. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. It’s not you, you’re not the reason I’m upset. Your request is interesting and I want to help you with it, I really do. It’s just… to do this, we’re going to have to use time travel. It’s not that it’s impossible or anything, I actually own a time machine so that’s not an issue. It’s that… I fucking hate time travel.

I don’t hate the concept of time travel itself. I think it can be a lot of fun in works of fiction. Doctor Who, Back to the Future, and Star Trek are all things that heavily feature time travel that I’m a big fan of. It’s just that, in real life, it gets so stupidly complicated. You know how every work of fiction seems to have different rules for turn travel? In real life time travel follows all these rules and none of them all at once. If that seems confusing, that’s because it is. It’s insane. But it’s the best chance for doing this, so we’re going to give it a try. Now, close your eyes and hold onto me tight. This is going to feel weird.

You can open your eyes now. Be careful though, it’s going to take a second for your eyes to adjust. We’re outside now, on the football field of your old college. You don’t have to worry about anyone seeing us. I may hate time travel but the time machine is pretty useful. Time travel, space travel, and camouflage. But that’s not important right now. See that skinny guy standing on the opposite side of the field? You should recognize him. It’s you, 20 years ago, as a college freshman. You really wanted to join the football team huh? I can see the longing in your eyes… but also some serious nervousness. I’m guessing this is about when you back out and decide to join the school's theater group. Not this time though. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna change anything drastic. I’m just going to give you a little… push in the right direction. Have to get you to join the team somehow. I just have to whisper some things in his, or I guess your ear while we’re in camouflage… and just like that everything is going to change. Welcome to the football team. You’re a little late on becoming a jock, but you’re a hard worker. You’ll catch up. Speaking of which…

We jumped forward in time. I probably should have warned you, I was just excited to see the changes. We’re not all the way back to the present, not yet. It’s been a year since the other you joined the football team, and just like I predicted you caught up real quick. Even when you were in theater you were a hard worker, and now that you’ve dedicated yourself to football instead, you’re an absolute beast. You’ve had a major growth spurt and fit right in with the guys who have been playing football since middle school, a total jock through and through. Looks like this version of you acts a little more jockish too. Probably because you’ve been spending so much time around jocks, they’ve been rubbing off on you. Literally in one very special case. That’s right, the new you managed to do what you never could in college: get a jock boyfriend. In the original timeline he never even looked your way, but now Tim Wire, the most popular jock in school, is head over heels for you. You two seem to have a great relationship… Let's see if it lasts.

Another jump forward, a much bigger one this time. It’s been about 5 years since you joined the football team. You didn’t go professional, not because you couldn’t but because you didn’t want to. A guy like you could have been a superstar, but you and your fiancée Tim agreed you both wanted something more stable. So you opened up a chain of gyms. It’s a small business, but it has a lot of potential for growth, especially with you as the face of the operation. You basically have it made. You own a small, successful business, have a sexy husband, and are about to adopt a 3 year old. Your life is fucking perfect. Let’s see if it gets better.

A final jump forward. We’re 20 years after you joined the football team, back into the present. You’re still the old you, but that’s only because I have to ‘finalize’ the changes. Take a look around. You might not recognize this place, this huge mansion, but it’s your home. You, your husband Tim, and your adopted son all live here together. This must be your home gym, and I believe that’s you and him flexing over there. Looks like the little guy ended up taking after his dads. He’s huge for an 18 year old. He’s smart too, all ready to take over the family business when you retire. Your gyms are a very successful franchise now, if you can’t tell from the sheer size of your house. It’s just my opinion but I think your life really would have been better if you joined the football team back then. And now it can be. All you need to do is press this button, and finalize the changes. It’s your choice-

Ok, that was quick. I guess it was an easy choice. I hope you enjoy your new life. I would if I were you. I mean a muscular sexy husband, a son you can be proud of, a successful business and an incredible amount of muscles and confidence. You’ve got it made. I just hope we didn’t change too much. I didn’t realize you’d start a gym franchise. That could have a big impact.

I’m sure it’s nothing though. I mean, how many lives can a gym really change?

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter Map Twenty-Six

TW: choking, noncon, dark shit, Julian

You’d be a liar, if you said you weren’t floating on a little cloud, as you go about your duties at the hospital. You’re smiling stupidly to yourself for no reason at all–and it’s all Tom Ludlow’s fault, of course. 

Later, when you’re sort of able to think clearly, you marvel at the way that man let you have your way without actually getting mad about it. You weren’t really sure what you were getting into, as you snapped the cuff into place. And maybe you’re still not sure who actually manipulated who. 

Maybe it doesn’t matter. 

All’s well that ends well…and that ended very fucking well, if you don’t say so yourself. 

You’d actually almost managed to forget about Doctor Julian for a little while. That is, until you hear a crisp click click outside the door when you’re getting something out of a supply closet and you jump three vertical feet in the air.

Ok, maybe not that high, but your soul certainly attempts to leave your fucking body. 

When you whirl to confront him–he’s gone. 

Bastard. 

Then several cases come in one after the other. Two gunshot wounds, a stabbing, a car accident, a gnarly burn. You are too busy to think about anything else but saving lives. 

Looking back, Julian undoubtedly banked on that, near the end of your shift. You are exhausted, and covered in grime, and hungry too because you missed out on your sandwich. It turns out that man can move stealthily as a cat, sneaking up without a sound behind you, until it’s too late and he’s bundled you into the lab, which sadly is rarely if ever occupied. 

You struggle, of course, to little avail. The way he bares his teeth as he pins your arms behind you betrays his enjoyment of this little ambush–too fucking much. His mouth crashes over yours, a punishing kiss that clashes teeth and bruises lips. He draws away just as you try to bite down on his wicked tongue. 

“Get off of me,” you snarl, though even now you're conscious of drawing attention, keeping your voice down. 

“Just wanted a little preview of our weekend festivities. Are you looking forward to it as much as I am?”

“No.”

Too late, you realize that’s exactly the answer he wanted. You can tell by his pleased smirk. He doesn’t want you to enjoy this at all. It would absolutely take the fun out of it for him. He makes it seem easy, to hold both of your wrists together in one of his large hands, his other lifting to brush away a stray lock of hair from your face. In any other circumstance the touch could have almost seemed tender–but you are a lamb in the jaws of a wolf, and you begin to tremble in his grasp. 

They do this–abusers. They lull you with some nugget of sweetness, put you off guard so that the violence is even more satisfying when they strike. It’s strange in a way, to compare this outwardly dignified man to the handsome redneck who used to knock you around back in Kansas. But really they are just two sides of the same fucking coin. 

You should fight back. Knee him in the groin, or maybe try out a headbutt. But your limbs seem to have forgotten how to function–and Julian has that little piece of damning lead in a baggie that could completely upend Tom Ludlow’s world. 

He feels it, as you remember that, the fight leaking from your bones.  “I’m proud of you, y/n. Someday, you won’t fight me at all.” 

You’re smart enough not to tell him this will not be an ongoing thing. Once you have that piece of evidence in your hands…you are gone. Maybe you’ll have to switch to a different hospital. Anything, not to have to deal with this asshole on a daily basis. 

Or, you could tell Tom, and this motherfucker will be unalived faster than you can say workplace harassment. Ok, maybe that’s not a good option, but it feels good to think about at this moment, when you are helpless in this monster’s clutches.

His touch migrates to your jaw, squeezing just this side of too hard. “I’m feeling…peckish, y/n. I think I’d like a little amuse bouche to tide me over until Saturday.”

Your heart drops to your feet.

“Amuse bouche? Who do you think you are, the Marquis de Sade?”

“Funny you should mention him. I think he had some very interesting ideas.”

“Julian…we’re at work.”

He just smirks, that cold glint in his eyes like a bared blade. 

“I think you mean to say, ‘Yes, Doctor.’”

You glare at him, and he waits, squeezing your wrists in his vice of a grip uncomfortably. 

“If you break my hands you will be in so much fucking trouble.”

He only finds your threat amusing at best. “Useful thing about being a doctor. I am well versed in the limits of the human body.” He squeezes harder, and you gasp. It makes his eyes shine like a kid outside the gates of Disneyland.

“How’s this for a limit? If you mark me up, Tom will come after you. He sees me naked every day.” You’re not sure if it's a good thing you mention this, but in the heat of the moment your protector’s name spills from your lips, invoked like your household saint. And you will admit, it feels good, to see Julian’s eyes darken at the mention of your intimacy with Tom.

“I think you're forgetting who holds the cards here to your boyfriend’s future. You had better come up with some good lies for Saturday, because I intend to leave my marks all over this beautiful skin.” He lets go of your wrists, but only to run his hands over your forearms, raising gooseflesh as he goes.

“How’s it feel to be a fucking creep?” You ask, genuinely, actually curious about the answer, trying not to give any reaction to his fingers teasing higher up your arms, putting every single nerve on high alert. 

His hand envelops your throat, fingers pressing against the sides and closing just enough to make it hard to breathe. “Please, go on,” he nods, looking down at you with a snarling grin. 

You don’t give him the satisfaction. You let him choke you in varying degrees and intensities and angles, saying nothing while he works at your throat like a he’s learning an instrument; what makes you cry, what makes your eyes roll back in your head, what makes you sputter and cough and gasp for the sweet air he’s depriving you of. 

Maybe you wish he would just strangle you to completion, instead of torturing you like this. Every time he lets you breathe it just makes the next instance of his huge hand around your throat that much worse. 

“Beg me to stop,” he hums against your ear, snaking tongue flicking at your soft dangling skin. 

You do. You beg, sweetly even. You beg for breath, which is something you never thought you’d have to do again after the freeing age of 18…and then after the horribly abusive first ex. 

But here you are. 

[batsplat]

which motogp rider do you recon would fuck their bike if they’re could?

there's an easy answer here and it's valentino, but luckily he's retired so you can't just go with that cop out. like he definitely wanted to fuck that bike and tbh I'm not sure the 'if they could' caveat even applies here. I fully believe he has fucked that bike

my sense is that he has passed this on to his proteges, who to varying extents do seem like they have all considered fucking a bike. the furthest along this spectrum is bez, who as I understand it has in the past even given his two bikes separate names that can be combined to give the bike's compound name ("I didn't want two different names as that would be like having two girlfriends, which is weird"). this is metaphysically fascinating in many ways, but is also a clear case of someone overthinking things. like, I think if you believe you are in a committed relationship with your racing bike, you do need to treat your bike's 'soul' as something that can transcend the specific bike you are currently riding. when valentino talks about his relationship with the m1, obviously he knows it's not literally the same bike year-to-year, but spiritually it's the same bike. whereas bez is performing odd mental gymnastics here to establish that his two bikes have a unitary soul rather than just, like, accepting that all these bikes have the same soul anyway if he wants them to. bez is the type of guy who wants to fuck his bike but is so hung up on the various philosophical bike-fuck-cuck implications that he never actually manages to fuck it

riders do generally have very weird relationships with their bikes, but it would be too easy to assume they all want to fuck their bikes. with some, there's clearly more of a spiritual identification with the bike, where they see the bike as an extension of themselves. marc is the poster child here: that man does not want to fuck his bike, he thinks he is his bike. both his bike and his body are frequently treated in a distressingly utilitarian manner, where in his mind they exist to fulfil a single purpose, aka 'winning races'. this is how you get him talking about the mechanics fixing the bike and the doctors fixing the body and all that other stuff. it's only been in recent years where, for obvious reasons, he's become a little more aware of how he does actually need to treat his body like a precious resource... but like with the bike, he does still seem pretty ready to repeatedly chuck it in the gravel. despite this apparent lack of care or basic self-preservation instincts, the riders who identify with bikes - who see their souls as one with the bike - don't necessarily have an entirely non-sensual relationship with their bikes... but it's a little different to wanting to fuck their bikes. the sensuality is still there, but the bike and the rider are not distinct units where one can fuck the other. whether you take this to mean that they want to be the bike who is fucked or that there's more of an autosexual situation happening here is up to the reader's interpretation

another interesting question is whether there are some riders who want their bikes to fuck them. I feel like this has to be a thing, though it's a little harder to find explicit evidence here. in some ways, if you set aside the literal order in which bike and rider are arranged, some of the dynamics of riding a bike would lend itself to an interpretation that being attracted to a bike is more about being fucked by the bike than fucking it. this raises another interesting question - and it's whether it's the process of riding a bike in itself that is arousing, or whether the attraction comes from something different. now, to return to our best case study: my sense is that for valentino, he primarily does want to fuck that bike... and it's not necessarily the riding itself that's really doing it for him. it's a very romantic connection, it's about being enamoured with this partnership they've forged and the mutual promise and potential therein. he's in love with winning on that bike, he's in love with what the two of them can achieve together. this isn't about the literal process of approaching a corner on an m1... valentino is at his most attracted to his bike after he has just won on it. here he is stroking his bike after phillip island 2004 (where he sealed his first yamaha title by beating sete in a last lap duel) and laguna 2008, and also him kissing his bike after catalunya 2009

yes, he wants to fuck the bike, but he is a romantic. riding the bike to victory is the wining and dining; the fucking comes later

the last metric I wish to bring in is the need to feel desired by the bike. this is an ego thing, right... the partnership with the bike at the point of victory flatters the ego. the harmonious and productive relations between rider + partner reflects well on them; it bags them a bunch of lovely things from everyone around them like 'appreciation' and 'affection' and 'praise'. thus the bike also reflects on the rider... both in terms of the attractiveness of the bike to the world at large (making it function as a trophy spouse of sorts) and in terms of the quality of the bond between rider and bike. being wanted by the best bike is particularly flattering - but the most important thing is to be wanted at all. I would posit that this is part of what's going on with jorge martin's whole deal, a man who desperately needs to be praised and wanted. the aprilia's no ducati, but at least he's its first choice, y'know. my belief is that jorge martin wishes to be wined and dined by that bike

in conclusion, I would like to propose a basic way of assessing what flavour of sensual relationship the rider has with the bike:

my belief is that most (if not all) riders fall somewhere in this triangle. you have the freaks like marc who are very close to the top and you have the freaks like valentino who are very close to the bottom and probably skew hard left. others are perhaps a little more versatile in their preferences. I don't feel like I have sufficient information to sort all the riders to the correct spot of the triangle, but I hope the general construct holds up. that is all

[uptondixon]

Chicago P.D's Men as Your Older Brother

Wordcount: 1547. 230-290 each.

Reader's age and gender are not specified. The timelines may give a hint about the age differences, though. 

Kevin Atwater

Raising 3 siblings was definitely not in Kevin's life plan. He has always been a good brother, but there's a huge difference between a brother and a father. Despite his insecurities, he did a good job. Kevin raised you, Vinessa, and Jordan with all the love in the world. Food, clothes, toys, birthday parties, doctor appointments, school work, he did it all. And he would do it again and again if it meant seeing you and your siblings growing up happy and healthy. When your father came back from prison, it took a toll on all of you. While Kevin tried to deal with his own unresolved feelings about your dad, you had a weird feeling growing in your chest.

“Who is this man? He is not my father, at least I don't feel like he is,” you told Kevin one afternoon after he mentioned your father wanted to meet. Kevin and Vinessa agreed with you, not really knowing how to feel towards the man.

“You raised us, Kev,” you said, looking into his eyes. “We never called you dad because you've always been Kev, our big brother. But you've been a dad to us all along.”

Later that night, you all got to an agreement: to give your father a chance. But he would never be number one. Ever. Kevin is and always going to be number one in your hearts.

Jay Halstead

It's no surprise to anyone that being a Halstead comes with a package: a talent for trouble and two very, extremely, unnecessarily protective older brothers. Jay and Will made sure everyone knew not to mess with you or things would get ugly really fast. Kids at school knew you had a cop and a doctor as your brothers, and you knew that was the reason no one ever laid a finger on you. This whole protective thing goes both ways, though. Jay will never forget the day you got home from a party with a busted lip. The reason? Apparently, to defend him.

“What?” the look of disbelief on his face was priceless. If this wasn't a serious conversation, you would be laughing your ass off. “Defending me? What do you mean?”

“We were talking, and suddenly the conversation shifted to police. This guy started shit-talking that all cops were dirty and did nothing for the city. Never in a million years could I stand there and say nothing!” you said in exasperation. “I told them how my brother saves lives every day and how much you and your team sacrifice for this city.”

Jay just stood there. His fingers came to rest on the bridge of his nose. Damn, he couldn't say he wasn't proud, but at the same time…

“Kid, that's nice and all, but would you mind not getting into fights on my behalf ever again? Jesus!”

Antonio Dawson

The Dawson siblings… your parents had no idea they would have to deal with 3 souls that feared absolutely nothing. Being the youngest definitely helped you feel even bolder. Having Antonio and Gabby protect you from everything and everyone made you feel like the safest person on earth. Growing up is never easy, but being a Dawson prepared you for a lot. With Gabby being in CFD and Antonio in CPD, your parents wondered if you would follow your sibling's footsteps. When the moment came to choose your profession, they were worried that would be the case. You, however, have no idea where your passion lies.

“You don't have to be so worried about this, kid,” Antonio said from his spot on the couch.

“How can I not, Tonio?”

“Come here, sit down,” he said, patting the spot beside him. You went and sat beside him. “It's perfectly normal to feel lost about all this. It's not an easy decision. “

“It was easy for you and Gabby. You always knew what you wanted to do.”

“That means nothing. Do you think we never had doubts? That we didn't struggle?” Antonio held your face in his hands. “You have our support. Always. It doesn't matter what you choose to do.”

“He's right,” Gabby said, having arrived in the room just now. “We love you, and we're going to help you find your way.”

Hank Voight

Losing a parent is something that can change someone’s entire life. You and Hank had to deal with the loss of your dad when you were both too young to even understand why he died. You and Hank were really different, but you both shared the wish to become police. To protect the city like your father did. Being the oldest, Hank became a mentor to you. He was there for you in every step of your career, being your biggest supporter. Being police somehow strengthened your bond and you guys grew closer as the years went by. You could be yourself without any fear with him, and he felt the same. When your brother lost the love of his life, his wife Camille, you were the only person he would open up to.

“I don’t know what to do,” Hank stared at you for the first time that evening. He’s been avoiding you since the funeral that morning. You knew he was scared to pour out his emotions, afraid he wouldn’t be able to keep going if he let himself feel all that pain.

“I’m here, Hank,” you held his hands that rested on the table.

“Do you remember how you felt when dad died?” Hank asked you.

“What? No… We were so young.”

“Exactly. I don’t remember hurting his much, you know?”

You felt your eyes fill with tears at his words. You got up and embraced him in a hug, hoping to pass him some comfort. “We’re going to be okay, brother. I got you.”

Adam Ruzek

As surprising as it may sound, having an older brother who never leaves you alone and is devoted to annoy you is not that bad. You were a really introverted kid, and for years Adam was your only friend. You were still a baby when your parents divorced. This made things even more complicated between them, but Adam has always been there for you. He held your hand when you walked for the first time. He taught you how to ride a bike and how to play football. Your dad always watched you two with fondness in his eyes. The three of you were pretty close. Bob was not perfect, but he tried his best. He knew that Adam felt like he had to protect you from everything, but sometimes that went too far.

“Adam, for the last time, tell me where the hell are they!” Bob was starting to lose his patience.

“Dad, I told you I don’t know.”

“You’re 20, for god's sake! You should stop covering for them.”

Adam choose to stay silent this time. They’ve been at it for 30 minutes now, and he already used all his excuses.

“Fine, you want me to go to the police station? I can find them and cause a scene, sending police cars to wherever they are!”

Adam’s eyes widened at this, he knew it was a lost battle now. He told your dad about the party you went to, already feeling sorry for all the scolding you’d get the next days. Later that night, Adam apologized for not being able to hold your dad longer.

You looked at him with a big smile on your face, “It’s okay, Adam. Do you wanna know how my date went?”

Dante Torres

Life could be hard. Too damn hard. You and Dante knew that very well. From a young age, both of you had to learn how to survive in a world where kids like you two were constantly thrown under the bus. Being a foreigner in the US was hard enough, but also being poor and living with an abusive stepfather made things worse. Dante had to grow up faster than usual. He had to become someone that you and your mother could rely on, even though he was way too young for any of this. Juvie. Gangs. You never lost hope that Dante would leave that life, find a good job, and be happy. The day he got into the academy was one of the happiest days of your life. Seeing him later in Intelligence made you so damn proud.

“I can't believe they're giving you a permanent spot!” you were jumping into his arms before he could cross the threshold.

“You saw my message?” Dante said with a smile, hugging you back.

“Of course I did! You got the job, I'm so proud of you!”

“Where's mom?” Dante asked, stepping back from the hug and closing the door. You could tell he was a little overwhelmed with the news himself.

“She will be back soon. We have a surprise for you,” you said nonchalantly.

“What? You guys didn't have to give me anything.”

“Don't worry, bald head,” you used the nickname he hated so much. “We want to treat you, for everything you did for us.”

You approached him again and held his hand, “We love you, and we're so proud.”

“I love you guys too.” Dante smiled down at you. “But never call me bald head again.”

“Okay, bald head.”

Please accept this post as my apology for being MIA… I had this idea the other day so I decided to write it.

I’m aware that Adam has a sister that was mentioned in the show, but I don’t remember much about her, so that’s why she wasn’t mentioned. The same goes for his mother. For the others, I tried to include their parents and siblings as much as I could.

Chapter 4 of Upstead Foster Daughter is half written because I want it to be longer than the others, but inspiration hasn't hit me in a while.

Thank you again for all the love on my fics. It means a lot to me seeing all the likes and reblogs ♡

[nrdmssgs]

can you write something with reader and gromsko and how gromsko would treat her if she was his wife? i’ve heard some seriously questionable things about polish people from my boyfriend, he could be biased but from what i know they are super misogynistic and gromsko gives off traditional vibes yknow.

Masterlist

Wow, that is a very interesting request, actually!

First of all, I am very sorry, that your boyfriend had bad experience with Polish people and I really hope, that things get better. My very first work was in a Polish company, and I've met the sweetest, nicest people there. There was literally one issue - I was young, tiny and underweight, and they all felt sorry about that and constantly tried to feed me.)) So the reason I'm telling this here is to highlight, that there are so many different people in every country.

I don't have anything against authors, who chose to depict him as very traditional (in a negative way) person. It is always important to not forget, such people exist. But I want to offer you a slightly different approach to him. Let's just call it an experiment and see, if it works both for you and me, ok? We will keep this guy traditional more or less, but shift him to a non-toxic side.

Husband Gromsko HCs

Long before the marriage, he takes you with him on a trip across Poland to meet his relatives. Won't stop until you meet everyone. Grannies, aunties, nieces - everyone. You are about to become part of his family and it's important to him, that you are truly integrated in the family and shown love from every single part of it.

He asks his parents to bless your marriage, and definitely asks your parents to let him make a proposal to you. It is not that he is dependent - he was raised in a culture, where respect to elderly is everything.

Regardless of how devout he and you are (even if you are an atheist), Gromskо will persuade you to a traditional wedding ceremony.

If you do not belong to any church or are simply a representative of another faith, he will not rest until he persuades the priest of his native church to allow you two to marry.

Yes, this guy will start to fight for your marriage long before it even starts. He doesn't try to force you into faith though. If needed - he is ready to pray for you both. Because you are his love and Sobieslaw has enough faith to keep you in Gods good books.

Once you are his, truly and finally his - Sobieslaws mind is all concentrated on two objectives: domesticating you and welcoming children in your family.

His biggest fear is to fail you. And in his mind, keeping you on your work equals failing you. If you worry about money - it means to Gromsko, that he doesn't provide well enough.

It will take a lot of talking to change his mind. But eventually he will understand. No matter, what he is taught to believe - you, his wife, love of his life, come first. Always. If you are 100% sure, this is the way, you want to live - he will support your choice to keep your work.

He wants children. Not a single child - children. It will break his heart, if you are not in the same boat with him on that one. He won't push you too hard, won't give ultimatums - but he will constantly try to bring the similar wish into your mind.

He is a 'look how adorable these little ones', 'look how tiny this baby beanie is' type of guy. Watches his friends kids on the playground, while embracing you lovingly and whispering 'they are sweet, but our little treasure would be the sweetest'.

If you are as enthusiastic as he is, and you get pregnant - prepare to meet doctor Gromsko. He won't leave your side, not for a day, even if it affects his career. Who gives a f**k about work stuff, when the most important person out there prepares to gift him the second most important person in his life?

He will monitor you constantly, take you to every single check up, make sure you get all the essential vitamins, have enough of fresh air daily and NO stress.

Will welcome his child with tears, will cover your face with frantic, desperate kisses afterwards. "Dziękuję kochanie... dziękuję, dziękuję,dziękuję*!"

Gromsko loves it, when everybody knows, that you are his and he is yours. So please, if you take off your wedding ring for any reason - wear it on a chain as a necklace. Otherwise, he will be terrified, that it is a sign, you don't want him by your side anymore.

He is constantly worried, you might get sick, so he makes sure, you are always warm, you eat well (no matter what your body type is, his granny will still call you too thin, so Sobieslaw will worry about that), you get health checkups every now and then (even if you are feeling perfect!!!).

The most supporting guy, if you decide for any reason, that you don't want to work actively and choose to stay at home.

Gromsko won't just settle with 'ok, good, now I finally have a stay at home wifey'. He will make sure, you like every part of your home, have enough time and space for your hobbies, feel safe and loved.

By the way, the guy looks like the 'I'll build our house on my own' type. Who, if not him, knows better, what makes an ideal home for you and him? Of course, you can choose all the decorations, materials and so on. But he is the one, doing the building.

Dziękuję kochanie… dziękuję, dziękuję,dziękuję - Thank you, love... thank you, thank you, thank you.

[jolieblack]

Something finally came to me! (I usually can’t write to prompts to save my life.)

May Prompts 2024 by @calaisreno

May 24th: Imperfect

We've always done things the wrong way round.

We moved in together at a time when we knew no more than four or five facts about each other. Significant facts, granted, such as John being a war veteran and me having no patience with idiots, but neither of us could have claimed to have had anything even close to the full picture at the time. I sometimes wonder what would have happened if either of us had. Only on my really bad days, though.

I don’t have all that many of those any more, luckily. And when I do, I have plenty of good memories to help me pull myself up again. Take the ones of how we confessed our love to each other to a beautifully decorated room full of people in festive dress and in even more festive spirit, to much applause and cheering and well-wishing. Yes, you heard that plural right. Those are two separate memories, years apart and in two different places. I got to go first, and it wasn’t even me who was getting married at the time. That’s another thing that most couples would do differently. Coordinate it a bit better, at least.

The second time around, as a lot of you will remember well, it was John's turn to talk, and I‘d been told in no uncertain terms to keep my mouth shut and say nothing, not even to correct his grammar, till he was done. I can now attest that it is true that the groom never gets to have a say in anything at his own wedding. Someone got his late revenge there. And believe me, that doesn’t depend on whether it’s one groom or two. Yes, and I know there are still people out there even in this day and age who feel that it’s not normal to have two grooms at all. They can all go away and never show their ugly faces again where I can see them, or smell the foul breath of the bigoted filth they’re spouting. That’s not the wrong way around, that couldn’t be more right for both of us.

But we did other things the wrong way around, too. In most romantic stories, killing someone to save the person you love is usually the culmination of long mutual trust and dedication. It‘s supposed to be the crowning glory, the final sealing of a bond that has long been in the making. It’s not supposed to be the starting point. And John is usually the more patient of the two of us, but when it came to this, he could barely contain himself for 36 hours after our very first meeting before he did it. Ever heard of timing and pacing, Doctor, I hear you people wonder? And he’s supposed to be the one with the talent for good storytelling. The timing was good, though. The timing was excellent. There’s another 'what if' for you that is no fun to contemplate at all.

There is killing out of love, and - I have to say it, I can’t not, I‘d be lying by omission if I didn't - there's also dying out of love. I doubt, however, that there’s anyone out there who has ever put a more elaborate effort into pretending to die out of love than I have. As far as I‘m aware, that’s not really a romantic convention, either, and I sincerely hope I haven’t started a trend. I honestly can’t recommend it. Effort is well and good, and I dare say the execution in my case was flawless, but I can’t deny there was a certain lack of forethought as to the emotional impact on both parties concerned. Don‘t try this at home, folks.

People also usually date first, then start cohabiting, then get married, then raise children together. Please don’t ask me to define at what time in our lives exactly John and I were dating and when we weren’t yet. To this day we have never been able to agree on a definition for this mysterious activity that emphatically, according to John, for whatever reason, does not encompass two people who like each other going out together and having fun. But it is an undisputed fact that we had been raising a child together for a good while before we got married. And we have been going out together and having fun for years uncounted now. Crime scenes never fail to work that particular magic on us. Oh wait, no, that was another example I had on my list for what most other couples do differently. Hang on, do I see a certain Chief Inspector of Scotland Yard raise his hand in objection? Raising both hands, actually, showing us… what, seven fingers? Is that the number of couples working for the Metropolitan Police that you know personally who have met at crime scenes? Or are you reminding us of the number of times John and I were actually kicked off a crime scene because we were enjoying ourselves entirely too much, and were told not to come back till we could behave like adults? I could have sworn those were more than seven occasions, but I‘ll take your word for it.

Talking of raising a child together, I‘m sure Rosie will say a word or three about that herself later, but I have never understood why most of you had doubts about the practicability of that particular endeavour. Let me just tell you that a baby carrier is entirely compatible with a cashmere scarf, or didn’t you know cashmere can absorb up to a third of its own dry weight in liquid? And it got only easier from there when Rosie grew older and stopped affectionately drooling on whoever enjoyed the happy privilege of holding her and carrying her around. She hasn’t demanded being carried around in a good while now, and I don’t know what our poor old backs would say to that these days. But we were talking about happy memories, weren’t we, so there’s another. And at least in the metaphorical sense, I hope you know, Rosie, that you’ll be held and carried for as long as you want and need, as long as we both live. You were my daughter even before I was your father’s husband, and that has been one of the greatest honours bestowed on me in my life.

Because this is who we are, isn’t it, our crazy little family, where nothing is as you’d expect it to be. But we still wouldn’t have it any other way, topsy-turvy, weird, flawed and utterly imperfect, but also utterly us, unique, one of a kind. I don’t know if it was fate that threw us together, or if it really was just a whim on the part of the comfortable, corpulent, bespectacled gentleman sitting at this table over here, smirking with his trademark benevolence. But there’s a debt of gratitude to be paid there, and today is a good day to do it. In this at least, we’re doing the conventional thing, but who’s to say we’re not allowed to do that at least once in a quarter-century.

So, ladies and gentlemen, dear friends and family from far and wide, I give you: John Watson, the man of my life, the man at my side for over thirty years, and for exactly twenty-five years in the legal sense on this very day. Please raise your glasses with us to the next twenty-five. And for God’s sake stop snivelling like that, Mycroft. You’re embarrassing the whole room.

[ask-caine]

ok ok what’s yours and moons love story. Beginning to end

OOC POST

It's a bit of a crazy story, actually!

We originally met online through TADC, when she messaged all the Caine accounts she could find for a shitpost "wedding" thing. We ended up hitting it off and talking about random things for a while. It started with my random fact about Kentucky marriage laws and how a couple used them to get married by cocaine bear (hence the below picture)

We ended up learning about a shared interest in plague doctors, as well as discussing several very random topics. Anyways, she invited all the Caines to a discord server, and I ended up being the only one who actually showed up. We would end up talking for hours upon hours day after day there. It was genuinely shocking how much we had in common.

At this point, I had been kinda been picking up on some of the flirtatious undertones behind some of the things she was saying, but I wasn't 100% sure about it yet and was still kinda testing the waters. I'd heard the term love at first sight, and looking back on it, that's pretty much what it felt like. I had been developing a crush on her up to this point, and I kept thinking about her as I was getting ready for bed. I had to keep stopping myself from falling head over heels, reminding myself we barely even knew each other and telling myself "no, she's just being nice. Don't be weird, there's nothing behind this, she's just being friendly."

...As it turned out, she wanted to be a little more than friends... Given my feelings up to this point, I was a little overwhelmed when she told me. I had to take a minute to collect my thoughts, to process everything (hence her jokes about me pulling a Caine and running away). But I liked her, too, and was willing to try a long-distance relationship. So, that's what we did.

It was only a few days after we first got together officially that I told her I loved her. It just felt right. Apparently I caught both of us off-guard with it, since she was sure that she'd be the one who would've said it first. ...We both dived in a little too headfirst from there. From my side of things, it was just so exciting and exhilerating to have this feeling I'd been searching for all my life, and I wanted more of it. We took a step back and both agreed to try and take things at a more reasonable pace from here on out.

We ended up learning a lot about each other. It was like we were the same person, split apart and put in two entirely different situations but turning out the same way anyway. ...This similarity became concerning when we realized we both had the same last name, as well as the fact that we both had Scottish ancestry. But, one family search check later, we confirmed that we are not, in fact, related. Just another insane coincidence that further proves that we were made for each other...

We shared a lot with each other. Our interests, hobbies, ideals, feelings on various topics. Our experiences throughout life, good and bad. The darkest parts of us. Every day, we grew closer. There was no denying that there was something special between us.

That isn't to say everything was perfect. We both still had a lot to learn about ourselves and about each other. There were ups and downs. Things were far from easy. There was a lot of avoidable pain both ways. As time went on, we started to become a little more distant...

Eventually, the stress of life and school and worries and everything going on got to be too much, and she called for us to take a break from the relationship. This hurt, of course... But, taking a break and being done are very different things. I was okay with taking a break, since we would still hang out and such sometimes, just not as romantically.

But, that still wasn't enough. Everything continued to be really stressful, and she felt like she wasn't a net positive in my life and was dragging me down (though the truth was exactly the opposite). So, she decided to fully end the relationship. Which... Really hurt me. Badly.

I kind of fell into a depressive state for a while. I had opened myself up like never before, let myself be more vulnerable than at any point in my life. I had finally found love, the one thing I'd truly wanted all my life, the only thing I've ever needed, and then it was just taken right away. The one thing I feared more than anything else in the world had come to pass.

We would still talk occasionally, but not like before. I already hurt so much, and just talking with her without being able to say the love I still felt was torture for me. So, I distanced myself a bit. I dealt with things on my own. I learned a lot about myself as I came to terms with how things had ended up.

Eventually, I started to feel a little more okay. I knew I could never stop loving her, so I decided to try and turn that love from romantic to platonic and still try to be a friend. Because while I may have lost her, she didn't want me out of her life completely. I could make do as just friends.

But, when I started to come back and we started to talk more again, she realized how much she had been missing me while we were apart. She figured out that some of the things she'd been feeling had been more than she'd realized. She learned that she actually was happier when we were together, and that she still really enjoyed being with me.

So, she began to give little hints again, like before. And, again, I picked up on them, but I didn't want to believe them 100% because of how much I'd been hurt last time. I told myself that she was just showing platonic love, the same way I was. Things would never be the same again. They couldn't be. If I was good for her before, she wouldn't have left...

It was actually Randy who got us actually talking again, first on our blogs, and then regarding what we were being sent. This eventually led to us talking just in general, about all sorts of things... Including what had happened between us. It was emotional, but we both came out of it feeling better about things.

That said, it took until this post before I realized she still loved me and that it was okay to love her back, the way I'd been holding in all this time. We had a heartfelt reunion, though we weren't officially dating again just yet. It still took me a while after that to fully accept everything and let down my guard again, after how much I was still hurting from last time...

But I didn't like the feeling of keeping her away. Of having a barrier between us. I desperately craved that deep, personal connection of love with her again. So, I opened my heart up again. And I'm so incredibly grateful that I did.

Soon after that point, Randy showed up and all those shenanigans ensued. But they only managed to get us talking more about things and uniting against it, which actually brought us even closer together. So, I guess if one good thing's come out of that dumpster fire of stress and stupidity, it's that.

Things have been absolutely wonderful since we got back together. We both learned a lot about ourselves in our time apart, and things have been much better between us. The rocky, uncertain road from before the break had smoothed over. And we fell so much deeper in love the second time.

Add in the stress of the past several weeks, with all the Tumblr drama with these blogs and the hiatus and everything (which I'm not getting into because you can see all that for yourself by looking through our blogs), and you're caught up to the present day. Life is still very stressful for us both, but a lot less so than when we first got together. We understand ourselves and each other so much better, which helps us make less mistakes and treat each other more tenderly and personally in the ways that we need most.

As for the future, immediately after finishing school, I plan to find work and save up to visit her in Canada sometime in the summer. After that is a little hazy at the moment, but we'll figure out our lives and put together a plan to find stable jobs and create a good life for ourselves up there.

And that's it, that's our story. From when we met all the way to the present day. You said beginning to end, but I'm afraid there is no end to our love. The story's still being written. Our lives are still being lived. I hope to be able to add to this years into the future, when we're living together and when we start our own family. But it might still take a while to reach that point.

[yuri-is-online]

I'm asking this question because I find it an interesting topic. It relates to the criticism the Tokyo Debunker MC receives.

It's not just TD's MC—it's a common theme in otome and gacha games. Genderless MCs in games like *Obey Me!* and *Twisted Wonderland* face less criticism than female MCs. Even though the genderless MCs get some hate, it’s nowhere near the backlash female MCs receive. For instance, *Twisted Wonderland* had debates about a female MC being unsuitable for an all-boys school, despite the presence of monsters and robots. This debate ended with a female MC in the *Savanaclaw* manga.

Another example is *Tears of Themis*, where the female MC is well-received in my opinion due to her having a character. I am very happy that she isn’t a self insert and people seem to agree.

In contrast, female self-insert MCs like TD's MC and *Love and Deep Space*'s MC get a lot of hate for what seems like trivial reasons. TD's MC is often criticized for being ordinary, while LADS's MC, who is strong and brave, also faces backlash, with some claiming she's rude despite evidence to the contrary.

In conclusion.

woman mc in this day of age can’t have flaws now….wait no they can’t be prefect either! As then they are Mary sue! What do you mean that LI are grey sue as well? No that not true Leo having a backstory would justify his actions don’t you get it? What do you mean we should hold the male characters as same standard? Jin treating mc as a servant is her fault as she didn’t say no…..😐 

... so I have two lines of thought about this particular topic, it is something I have thought about for a while because I am working on my own game/games and pay a lot of attention to what people think.

It isn't personality people like it is competence

The love and deepspace MC and Rosa from tears of themis actually have very similar personalities. They are bad at/hate studying. They really love food. They both are sort of dorks and known for being kind. What people like about them isn't any of those things, what they like is that both of them are adult women who you can believe live on their own. They actually have skills related to their jobs, you can believe Rosa is a lawyer and that MC is a hunter, the love interests aren't the only competent people in the narrative. I think this can sort of relate to the target audience for both of these games being working women, but that's for a different post. Right now I really want to focus on that concept of competence: the two other otomes I really love and want to bring up are Amnesia: Memories and Hakuoki. The Amnesia MC makes a lot of really stupid decisions, but as the game title gives away she has amnesia. There is an underlying explanation for why she's a bit dim so I don't see too many complaints about her personality (outside of Toma's route but that is a different story) because you don't exactly expect her to be competent. The same goes for Hakuoki's MC whose name escapes me at the moment, she is the daughter of a doctor so she is never made out to be incompetent in medical matters, but she isn't the best fighter. And she doesn't need to be that's the male love interest's role in this particular story.

The problem with MCs like our dear Luna? I believe you said her default name is, in Tokyo Debunker is that we don't exactly have anything she is stated to be good at beyond boosting Stigmas. The various ikmen games get around this by giving their MCs a job, but we don't have that for Luna so we don't have anything to show some backbone or character so people read her as being a bit of a doormat. Like I have said numerous times before, I don't mind this and think that so long as they keep allowing us to see her thoughts this the writing will be good. A relatively easy fix to this could have been to make her someone who really loves music and constantly talks about it, she was going to a concert at the start of the game so that little bit of character would go a long way for her to be more of a human for people to project themselves onto. Generally speaking, when writing an MC, it is perfectly acceptable to give them certain personality traits and a history. But if you do that you need to make sure the narrative respects that interest and does not use it as an excuse to make the male lead look cooler.

Gender Neutral MCs

*sigh* so you bring up Twisted Wonderland and I uh... have some experience with that fandom! And I have observed the gender wars over Yuu with a weary heart. I genuinely could not care any less about how people identify or the type of o.c.s they make, but some people really really care and if I am honest I find that a bit disturbing. It honestly makes me sad to see fanfic, which used to be a really accepting space, fight over writing... well anything really. m/m blogs screaming about how they don't want fem aligned reading their things, f/f blogs screaming about men, the f/m fic writers feeling the need to defend themselves writing for a female reader- doesn't that exhaust you? Why do you care so much? I do not have the energy to care about people writing fanfic I am not interested in reading, is this because I am anemic or have I managed to be normal about one singular thing?

My personal theory is that the commodification of fanfic and fandom has made people think there is something fundamentally wrong with properties that are marketed towards people who are not them. The reaction to Love and Deepspace not having a male MC option sort of cemented that for me, there is nothing wrong with wanting a game where you can be a man or non-binary and date anime boys. There is also nothing wrong with writing m/m fanfic for a property like lds, or wishing you could play as a man in it. I think there is a genuine market gap in good games for people who aren't fem aligned, but you do not get good games by harassing people or implying they suck for wanting games where you can play as a woman. You get that by financially supporting projects aimed at you! There is a blog I follow on here called @amaregamesdb. They post a bulletin of projects, both vn and if, with an emphasis on making people aware of projects that aren't simply otome (ie male love interests with a female protagonist.) I think the people who run it are also the people who coined the term "amare game" to use for games where the MC isn't necessarily female. They also ran a blog to help people like me learn how to code if/vns so I am very grateful for them, so please do give them your support.

I write for a gender neutral reader because I wanted to write interactive fiction and felt like I needed to practice doing so. I have continued to do because honestly? I really enjoy it. I love seeing how many different people identify with my writing and are moved by it. There are some projects I want to do in the future (original works, not fanfic) that I probably will lock the MC to female for, but I want to continue providing gn fic for people for as long as I write. And original projects too! I have two in particular I am working on behind the scenes. The solution to the problems like "what gender is yuu really," if you will permit me to preach for a second, is to not care. Yana said Yuu was meant to be you, and dear reader I don't actually know who you are! So you can be whoever it is you wish to be in your heart and I will make room for you to sit next to me. I'll even make tea (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

[picnokinesis]

Thoughts on Different Types of Representation in Doctor Who (and how fandom responds to it)

So I watched Rogue last night and - okay first, oh my days, absolutely ADORED it, this is definitely my favourite episode of this season, it was just so much FUN and it hooked me right from the start. And then the queerness! I was actually thinking to myself whilst watching it how wonderful it was because it felt like a queer story in a way that wasn't like, showboating about how progressive it was? [editorial aside: this is not comparing it to anything in particular, just a general observation]. The characters were just queer, within this wild and wonderful sci-fi story, but also their queerness wasn't the Only Character Trait they had and their story didn't resolve around their queerness, but their queerness was crucial to the plot in a way that was just lovely to see - and as a writer myself, it's personally the way I love to see our stories being told.

But then I made the mistake of going into the tag - always a foolish thing to do, because for some reason everyone loves to praise this era by criticising the previous era (as if it hasn't been criticised enough...like we know most of y'all hate Chris Chibnall for committing no worse crimes than Moffat and RTD before him...we know). And I found a couple of folks talking about how this episode alone did more for queer representation than the entirety of thirteen's era, whiiiiich at first really Peeved Me Off - like didn't these people understand how important Yaz's arc (especially Eve of the Daleks) was to a LOT of people? But then I was like 'well actually this is interesting', right? Because I think there's two very different kinds of representation going on here - and they're both very important in different ways, but one tends to get lauded as brilliant rep and one always gets put down as not good enough, or even bad rep. And what's the main difference? Whether the characters have a gay kiss or not.

So I just thought I'd share some of my thoughts and feelings on this, and why I think both these kinds of rep are equally important! To be clear from the get-go though - this is definitely not me ragging on anyone who likes more about one than the other (in fact, I think everyone likes one more than the other). This is merely a personal essay about it and the frustrations that comes when people in general do lift one up over the other. I'm gonna put it under the cut though, because it might get a bit long!

So, back when Eve of the Daleks aired, I remember having a lot of conversations about the representation in that episode - in particular with a very good friend of mine, who is a lesbian. And we realised that when it came to rep, we both actually wanted pretty different things. I'm aroace and genderfluid, and so a lot of what I saw in how thirteen was written - especially in terms of her gender (or lack thereof), and also her apparent lack of attraction (at least, in how I read it) was just incredibly affirming to me. I've never EVER seen a character on screen that I could see myself in both in terms of sexuality and gender. Whereas my friend saw things quite differently - thirteen was a lesbian, and they wanted to see that kiss between these two characters, because for them too, it was so rare to see that, and, in their words, they wanted to have their cake and eat it too. And we both realised that the reason that queer representation can feel so intense and important is, simply, because there isn't enough of it. We're all desperately reaching for the same small portion - and none of it is ever going to please everyone, or resonate with everyone. The stakes are too high.

So then, when there wasn't this dramatic romantic ending to Yaz's story, when there was no queer kiss, I was very sad for my friend, who didn't get that representation, but so painfully relieved for myself - because I got mine. So then it sucked a lot to see a lot of people getting really angry that this wasn't queer representation, that this was even homophobic - I even had someone tell me that aromantic representation in this regard was always going to be homophobic, because no-one would ever write it to be aro rep, and would instead only ever write it to avoid writing a gay kiss. And the thing that got me the most was that, REGARDLESS of whether they kissed or not, regardless of how you read either of the characters, there was one thing that was certain:

Yaz was queer. In text. Her emotional plotline centred around her realising that she was attracted to the Doctor (who was presenting as a woman - although, again, I don't think she really identified as such). The fact that she and the Doctor didn't get together by the end does not erase that fact.

They didn't kiss - but so what? Are queer people only queer when they're kissing someone of the same gender, or having gay sex? Are queer people not queer in their day to day lives, when they're not doing any of those things? Are queer people not queer when they're not dating? Are queer people not queer when they're trans, when they're ace, when they're aro, when their queerness doesn't resolve around attraction to the same gender?

And, to be honest, I think a lot of my feelings around this stem from the sort of exclusionist rhetoric that we saw a LOT of towards the ace/aro community back in 2012 that we still see now, that we're seeing towards the trans community now, that we're still seeing towards bi people, for pete's sake. It's this in-community infighting, pushing each other down to try and get up to the top, to keep all the "resources" for "the people who really need it", and it causes a serious amount of harm - but the truth is (and to bring this back to doctor who) that it all comes back to what me and my friend were discussing. We're all scared, all desperate to be seen - and when we are seen, it's the most incredible experience and the idea of losing that (or having someone else undermine it) feels inexpressibly awful. Having the thirteenth doctor...I suddenly realised this is what all the straight cis white dudes get all the time. She was like me, and that was indescribable. And then losing her - and having RTD not even be able to have a man wear her clothes because he was too worried about what the tabloids would say to be able to show a gnc person on tv...and then constantly described her as The Woman Doctor for the next entire episode - that hurt. A lot.

I've spoken to other friends who felt so seen in the character of Yaz - those people who realised they were queer later in life, those who fall in love with people and it doesn't end up going anywhere, those who don't get the whirlwind queer romances that people often call 'good representation'. Myself and many of my aspec friends have felt so seen in thirteen's almost entirely romance-less arc, and myself and my trans/genderqueer friends felt very seen in the way that thirteen's character would have been exactly the same if she'd been a man - the only difference was how the other characters around her interacted with her. Gender was something that happened to her. And when I watch episodes like Rogue, even though I don't relate to that representation, I just feel overwhelmed with joy because I know how important it will be to others that I care about. I think my sadness then comes from the fact that the way Thirteen and Yaz were written are just as important to me and many people that I know, but because they didn't kiss, it's not considered queer enough. Am I not queer enough, then? Are my friends not queer enough?

We need more episodes like Rogue, like The Parting of Ways, like Praxeus, like The Doctor Falls, because they are unquestionably and unapologetically queer, in a way that can't be avoided. We also need more episodes like Eve of the Daleks, like The Haunting of the Villa Diodati, like the rest of thirteen's era where the representation is an undercurrent throughout the whole story - but also undeniable, in a way that Yaz's story arc is, even if it doesn't end in a kiss, even if it doesn't end neatly and happily. Personally, I definitely would love to see more stories focused on aromanticism and on transness (especially ones that are written by trans people for trans people, rather than by cis people for cis people), but that's probably going to be down to people like me and other writers that I know actually getting into the script writing industry - and that depends on the people who are already there letting us in. One thing that I've always appreciated about Chibnall is that, after leaving Doctor Who, he began a programme for training up new showrunners with ITV, because: "showrunners are the gatekeepers and too many of the gatekeepers look like me."

Anyway, I probably have more thoughts that I've forgotten, but that's generally the gist of it. I think the more we fight over whether rep is 'good' or 'bad', relating to whether we see ourselves in it or not (rather than 'is this genuinely harmful or unhelpful', which I think is a more crucial question) the more the waters get muddied. We have different needs and wants, and no single episode is going to represent every facet of our community. But each episode, each story like this is a step in the right direction - and even rep that isn't perfect (I have thoughts about The Star Beast, for example) is still extremely positive and important, and definitely something that should be celebrated, even as we keep looking to the future for what we would like to see done differently, done better. And some day, I hope, there'll be so much queer rep, it'll be so normal, that those stakes won't feel so high anymore. It won't feel like everything hangs on how a certain show or storyline or episode is written. We'll all be seen. And that will be absolutely fantastic.

[lovealexhunt]

If you've followed me for any length of time, you would know that mental health awareness and suicide prevention are two topics that I hold very close to my heart.

I've struggled with depression and anxiety since I was a child. My parents didn't believe in mental health challenges and so my struggles were ignored and I was made to feel as though my struggles weren't real and something was wrong with me. I buried my mental health issues, hiding behind a mask of perfectionism and over-achieving. Those I saw in school or work, never know how greatly I struggled. However, hiding how I felt only made things worse and I struggled with suicide thoughts and attempts for a few years before finally seeing a doctor to get help.

I take medication for both depression and anxiety. These medications help take the edge off but they're not a cure. They aren't a magic pill that makes everything okay again. But they help and for that I am grateful.

I still struggle with depression and anxiety on a daily basis. There are days when the suicide thoughts creep back out, but through my experiences and working to raise awareness, I feel strong enough to remind myself they are just thoughts and I don't have to act on them. I hope that if it ever got that bad again, I would use some of the strategies from above: focusing on creative works, reaching out to others, trying to find reasons to be grateful.

Thinking positively or thinking "happy thoughts" is not easy. Sometimes I see and encouraging quote and they make me mad because I can't feel that way right now, but I still save them, because maybe tomorrow, that little reminder will be just what i need.

If you know me, I believe in the small little acts to make a difference. I've been making mental health awareness and suicide prevention posts for several years now, but I don't think I've ever had an image dedicated to small acts of kindness.

We don't know what anyone is facing (in person or virtually/online). With some, spotting signs of depression and suicidal tendencies is easier to spot. These individuals display more common signs and symptoms. But there are many more people who are high-functioning. On the surface, they seem put together, but underneath they are struggling. It is because of this that I so strongly believe in little acts of kindness: sending an encouraging word, checking in on others, giving little compliments here and there... these are small things, but you never know how big of an impact they can make.

Please continue to raise and spread awareness for depression and suicide prevention. It's only together that we can make a difference.

[analysisn3rd]

Holmes and Watson - why they mean so much to one another

The way I see it, Holmes and Watson are two halves of a whole. This is for many reasons.

First and foremost, they compliment one another personality wise. Where Holmes is seen as cold and calculating, Watson is depicted as warm and welcoming. Holmes can be rather impulsive at times, while Watson has a sort of steadiness and routine to his life, which makes him appreciate his adventures with Holmes further. They’re similar, yet they’re different. They’re both smart, though in different fields and manners, as Watson is more emotionally intelligent and Holmes is more intellectually intelligent. They’re both kind people, despite expressing their care for others and for one another in their own individual manner, where Watson’s way of showing care is more orthodox while Holmes is anything but. Not only do they mean so much to one another, but they also wouldn’t be alive without each other. 

Each of them needs the other to live, quite literally. 

Of course they would’ve made it if they hadn’t known each other; Holmes would’ve solved a few cases for the police here and there, and he would’ve taken cases from Mycroft, but he would’ve never make a name for himself further than that, since all his writings are very academic and that doesn’t really appeal to the people, and Watson would’ve run a surgery and worked as a doctor. Neither of them would’ve been the characters that we know and love now if they hadn’t met one another.

Additionally, I think that, given the circumstances that both of them were going through at the start of ‘Study of Scarlet’, I don’t think that they would’ve lived as long as they had without one another.

As we’ve seen in most of the Holmes short stories, Holmes doesn’t really care much about his physical, or mental, health. He brushes off injuries, even if they are a bit concerning, and although he would care were he to get severely injured during a case, he wouldn’t mind risking it if it meant finding the solution. He continuously endangers himself and the only person to take care of him afterwards is Watson. Without Watson, I think that it’s not unreasonable or illogical to assume that he would’ve died of some wound infection or an illness that he refused to get treated for.

Although it’s not well-discussed in the books, I would say that Watson definitely helped Holmes to stop his drug addiction and on his road to sobriety. He cares a lot about Holmes’ health and he would always be worried when he’s in one of his ‘dark moods’ that he’s on drugs.

Alongside that, he’s a lot happier with Watson. I don’t think he would’ve admitted to anyone (and I would say that the closest thing to admitting it was when he wrote about Watson leaving him for a wife in ‘The Adventure of the Blanched Soldier’ and how upset he was about that), but he’s always been rather lonely. Having Watson, a companion who tries to understand and help him as much as he could, someone who cares about him, someone who loves him (regardless of the type of love), has made him significantly happier. Watson means so much to him; he’s his ‘Boswell’ and he has refused, on several occasions, to help his clients if it meant that Watson wouldn’t be there (and then they’d relent and let them both handle the case). He's always there with Holmes and he's always there for him, he's his "one fixed point in a changing world" and Holmes would be absolutely distraught (as seen in 'The Adventure of the Three Garridebs', where Holmes was quite distressed about Watson getting hurt).

Furthermore, as I mentioned before, Holmes probably wouldn’t have had his ‘household name’ if it weren’t for Watson’s publications. The people (both fictional and real, but I’m talking about the fictional ones here) enjoyed reading about his adventures and it was through them that they got several clients, who were people that Holmes would’ve never reached if he was on his own.

Watson, on the other hand, desperately needed someone, anyone, to restore his love of life after he came back from Afghanistan. He came back a “broken man”, essentially. He hadn’t had any close friends, any relatives, anyone really, and he was completely and utterly alone in London. He needed someone to, for a lack of a better word, “cure” this loneliness that he’s faced after the war.  Holmes was that “cure”. He gave him a “purpose” in life; a “raison d’etre”. He allowed him to help people. He gave him the opportunity to go on adventures, do things that he would’ve possibly never imagined doing, and provided him with excitement, leading him to love life and living again. He helped Watson become who he really is, and not the shell of a human being that he (understandably) was after returning from the war.

They both complete one another, and they’re sort of two halves of a whole. If I were to be a bit poetic, I’d say that they’re the sun to one another’s moon. They both provide the other with light, in different manners, and they both conduct it to the other. They wouldn’t be who they are without one another, very simply. I think the best way to conclude this is to quote The Crane Wives’ ‘The Moon Will Sing’, “I shine only with the light you gave me” is a very accurate descriptor for Holmes’ and Watson’s relationship with one another.