#fuck it i'm probably going to because why not

[beloveds-embrace]

Hello, I really liked your Dukedome au, and I imagine how reader would when Jhon told her about his boys and she was okay with it, but maybe, unconsciously, she doesn't want the guys to misunderstood her relationship whit Jhon, so she star treating them in a very distant/formal way(probably she doesn't even notice either, its not like she is upset or something)

Like, no more cute nicknames for them or cute giggles, she stop looking out for them as often and they notice.

I just like angst I'm sorry 😭

They would notice immediately because ever since your mind subconsciously accepted that no one here would chastise or correct you, you've basically turned the nickname into a part of their name, always said so gently. Or when you'd seek their company out yourself, simply happy to spend time with them.

But then you convince yourself that perhaps you are making them uncomfortable, that maybe you are getting between them and John especially, so you decide it'd be best to just stop. No more nicknames, no more purposely going to spend time with them, just a very calm and respectful camaraderie. It should be fine, shouldn't it? No doubt they'd even be happy, having more privacy without you encroaching on their space.

Wrong, wrong, wrong. First day, they notice that you aren't calling them with those dearly beloved nicknames in that sweet tone of yours, but they assume it might just be something distracting you. They are sure it'll get better.

Second day, they realize you haven't gone to any of them. Haven't had breakfast sitting with Johnny, haven't visited John in his office, haven't taken your walk with Kyle or checked the library to read with Simon. Going over the conversations each and everyone of them has had with you, trying to see if they’d hurt or upset you in any way only to come up empty-handed.

Third day is the last day. There’s genuine fear they might havr royally fucked up. But it doesn’t explain why you are still calm and gentle as ever, greeting them if you happen to run into them but no more cute nicknames or lingering to speak to them. It hurts more because they do hear you still use them for others, but not them.

Fourth day is the last straw. Kyle is there first thing in the morning, greeting you awake with a big bouquet from John and Simon and a tray of so much it’s surprising it even fit on the tray- made by Johnny and Kyle both.

“My lady,” he smiles at you, setting it down on the coffee table a little away. It takes effort not to frown when you just mumble a confused “Kyle?” With no nicknames like love or honey.

“My lady,” he repeats, voice soft and apologetic- almost desperate. “Whatever I’ve done- whatever we’ve done, we truly apologize for it.” He starts. And then asks for your forgiveness again, apologies falling out.

Meanwhile, you are just confused as fuck. And still in your nightgown. What is he- what are all of them even apologizing for, anyways?

[flowerandblood]

The Last Drop (1/?)

[ modern • vampire • Aemond x female ]

[ warnings: description of blood drinking and bleeding in general, sexual tension, angst, memories of murders of both humans and animals, descriptions of violence + a lot of sadness ]

[ description: Encouraged by the information that the town he has landed in is not known for having the most vigilant police in the world, he decides to go on a little hunting trip to finally quench his burning thirst. However, not everything goes according to plan. (A lot of sexual tension, grumpy, gloomy Aemond). ]

Yes, Ewan's recent photoshoot inspired me to return to the vampire theme, this time in a modern version. I liked my idea for the character and their dynamic so much that it won't be a oneshot, but a mini-series! The general idea is that vampires in my world no longer produce their own blood, so they must drink the blood of others: however, once it enters their veins, the blood they drink takes on their own taste and smell, which attracts victims like a lure.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

The night was cool and crisp, the sharp air pleasantly filled his lungs. Even though he didn't actually need to, he breathed: it allowed him to remember that he was alive.

The centuries he had spent in perpetual, primitive thirst, starving himself, only to finally succumb again, wove together in his mind into chaos. He wasn't sure how much time had passed since his body had gone cold and no blood flowed through his veins.

Nor was it flowing through his heart, although he needed it.

That was why he had to eat.

He made frequent use of the blood that was stored in hospitals, as did others of his kind; nevertheless, to his disappointment and dismay, this was not enough for him.

No matter how many litres of blood he would drink from a plastic bag, he still felt a hunger that only passed when he sank his fangs into someone's neck.

He didn't understand why he couldn't stop himself – why, despite doing what he was supposed to do, he couldn't fool his nature.

At some point he just stopped trying.

He didn't kill, or at least he tried not to, however, his victims didn't show gratitude for his generosity – for fear that someone would recognise him, he kept changing his location, having several flats across the country.

Alys had told him about this town – she assured him that the police did not act too quickly here, and that it was easy and pleasant to eat in peace in the large, badly lit park. Indeed, when he arrived he found, walking the quiet streets at night, that the place had enough inhabitants to remain anonymous.

This was his chance.

Although he usually watched and followed his prey for long days, that night, as she passed him, he felt a hot, strange shiver and his heart, half-living, half-dead thumped harder in his chest. He turned behind her immediately and stopped, feeling a drop of cold sweat run down his back.

She was young.

Too young for his taste.

If he overreacted and lost control, she might not survive.

But she smelled so incredibly good.

He felt his fangs lengthen involuntarily, his jaw tense as he took a slow, heavy step behind her, into the depths of the park lit dimly by only a few night lanterns.

She was probably coming back from work from a night shift at some club or bar, because she had a rucksack slung over her shoulder – even though it was the beginning of winter, she was wearing only a jumper, scarf and trousers, her hair loose, their scent reaching his nostrils even though she was far ahead of him.

Fuck, I'm not going to make it, he thought, desperate, feeling his desire intensify for some reason – his senses sharpened and his hands clenched into fists as she turned into a dark side street, between the trees.

Now.

He found himself there within moments and froze, ready to attack, seeing the void in front of him – her scent was clear, but somehow she had vanished into thin air. He swallowed hard, biting his lower lip with some kind of feeling of regret and disappointment, looking around.

"Are you thirsty?" He heard a soft, calm voice behind himself and turned suddenly, feeling his heart leap to his throat with fear.

How could she be standing far behind him when she had just been in front of him?

What was that question supposed to mean?

He wanted to lunge at her, but hesitated as he saw her cock her head, pointing her hand back at her rucksack.

"I have a few bags full of blood in my backpack. I can give them to you if you need them. I have more at home." She continued, undaunted.

He felt his lips part involuntarily in disbelief when he noticed that, indeed, her face was pale, her hair unnaturally shiny and thick, her eyes sparkling with some unnatural gleam.

He was so thirsty that he did not notice that she resembled him.

She lowered her hand and blinked, seeing that he was still silent, looking at him with some kind of worry, as if he were a stray, hungry dog.

"What do you need?" She asked at last, and his gaze fled to her neck, to the blood of others that her heart had just pumped.

Blood that would have her own unique taste.

"Not here." She said, moving suddenly ahead, as if she had changed her mind. "Come with me."

He didn't know why, but he did as she said.

Usually it was the others who obeyed his orders, but now he didn't have the strength to stand up.

Perhaps he didn't even want to.

He was so terrified, intrigued and excited that he was breathing through his mouth.

It had been a long time since he had felt his own heartbeat so clearly.

He didn't know where she had got so much courage to let a stranger, much less a man like him, into her flat. To his surprise, it was cosy and colourful, full of flowers and plants, prints and posters, soft blankets and cushions in fancy patterns.

He stood in the middle of the corridor, not knowing what to do with himself, unable and unwilling now to just throw himself at her.

She pulled off her shoes and backpack, entering the living room without turning on the light, just as he seeing clearly in the dark – she sat down on the couch and held out her hand to him, a warm smile on her face that had a hint of comfort in it.

"Come here. It's okay. You've been brave." She said softly, as if praising a small child, her tone of voice filled with serenity and melacholy, as if she had known him for years.

He didn't know why he pulled off his shoes and coat, looking straight into her eyes, why, drawn by some unknown, mystical force, some strange warmth that filled his chest, he approached her.

He watched, breathing heavier and louder, as she lay on her back, still holding her hand outstretched towards him – he grasped her fingers uncertainly in his, thinking with some kind of tenderness that they were as cold as his own.

And yet, for some strange reason, though he was dead, it seemed as if life was still pulsing within her.

He was ashamed to admit to himself that he felt not only desire at the thought, but arousal as he lay down beside her, smelling her scent more and more clearly with every movement.

There was something intimate about the way she looked straight into his eyes without fear, the way her fingers combed slowly through his short hair, the way they were both silent for a moment, just breathing.

"– it's okay –" She repeated in a whisper, running her knuckles over his cheek, making him feel a squeeze in his throat for some reason.

He was moved.

When was the last time he'd been close to someone in this way?

He moved closer to her, feeling a wonderful shiver of excitement and anticipation run along his back as he leaned over her neck – his lips, swollen with desire, ran tentatively over her soft skin.

He heard her quiet sigh, her hands clenched on his body as he slid his slick tongue out, trailing the tip of it over the crook of her neck. He felt his erection pulsate, pushing against her thigh as he opened his mouth wider and his fangs slowly sank into the delicate structure of her flesh.

The fact that she was a stranger to him, unlike Alys, whom he had known for years, made him, for some reason, not dare to be aggressive – even though he could certainly hurt her if he wanted to, he decided to show his gratitude for her understanding and be polite.

There was something pleasurable about being able to focus only on the taste of her blood as it spilled over his palate – because of the way it circulated inside her body, it was warm, though not like that of a normal human being. He didn't mind, because it was a strangely refreshing taste, while at the same time providing him with a feeling of comfort – he thought the last time he felt like this was probably when he was an infant, drinking his mother's milk.

Safety.

He took one sip, then a second, and a third, one hand holding under her back, the other trailing slowly over the skin of her neck and jaw, for some reason wanting to feel her this way – her flesh grew warmer from the gentle rubbing of his fingers.

There was something in her blood that gave him the conviction of her kindness, and he was surprised by this discovery – he felt his heart begin to beat more slowly again, and his muscles, all sore a moment before, relaxed.

He wondered if she felt that he was completely hard.

When he pulled away from her, he closed his eyes and just nestled his face against her chest, tucking his head under her chin. He swallowed hard as she placed a soft, warm kiss on his hair, stroking reassuringly his cheek and back with her hand – he knew their closeness was just an imitation of what they both desired and needed, but he was too desperate to deny himself that.

He would never have asked for it out loud, but for some reason he craved what she offered him.

He wanted to hide.

He didn't need to sleep to survive, but he liked to rest that way, even more so when he was tired and relaxed. That girl, whoever she was, didn't try to escape his embrace, which gave him the feeling that she wouldn't do anything they both might regret.

When he woke up, he could see through the thick, bright curtains that the sun was already high in the sky – he murmured, snuggled with his face into her cheek, not having the strength or desire to move.

Now, in the light, he could look at her clearly.

She had been transformed when she was no more than twenty years old – of that he was certain. Her behaviour and appearance, in his mind, indicated that this sudden, frightening change in her life was recent: fifteen years ago at most, maybe less.

He swallowed quietly and stood up, deciding there was no point in prolonging it – the girl turned towards him and rubbed her eyelids, sleepily.

"Are you leaving already? Wait until sunset." She muttered.

He froze and cursed in his spirit, glancing at the window.

If it had been cloudy he would have survived somehow, but in full sun the burns was the least he could hope for.

She stood up, apparently seeing what he was thinking about, and moved lazily towards the kitchen, massaging the back of her neck.

There were no more marks from his bite, but her neck was all dirty with blood.

She reached for a plastic cup with a straw that looked like an old Coca-Cola packet and began to drink from it, slurping loudly. She raised an eyebrow when she saw that he was staring at her without saying a word.

"What? You made me thirsty." She explained, however, without a hint of resentment or regret, looking into her fridge, filled from top to bottom with plastic bags filled with blood.

"If you want, I can make blood tart or jelly. Or soup. So you won't be hungry again." She said, still continuing the activity of drinking through a straw from a plastic cup.

"What?" It popped out of his mouth, probably because he didn't understand what he had just heard.

"You know, food. I miss it sometimes. Mixing it with blood makes it nourishing, tasty and more interesting than blood itself. It's good with ice as a drink. I once put it in a soda maker to make bubbles inside, but the experiment failed." She said with a sincere sadness that made him just hide his face in his hands.

Was she serious?

"Sit down. I'll make us some jellies. Blood and raspberry. Yummy." She decided on her own, apparently completely not needing his opinion on the matter.

Indeed, he decided that he couldn't leave as long as the sun was shining so hard, so he sat down, watching in disbelief as she pulled out the gelatine, bowl, blood, raspberries and a few other things she apparently needed to create whatever she had in mind.

Looking at her with pity, he stated with a kind of melancholy that it had been a long time since he had watched a woman cook – the last time was when he had seen his mother as she was baking a cake, his favourite one: yeast with plums.

He felt a sting in his heart at the thought that he could still recreate the taste of it in his head.

"Do you live here? In this town, I mean." Her curious voice snapped him out of his reverie.

He looked at her, or rather at her back, watching as she stirred the steaming liquid in a small saucepan.

His thumb began to pick at the cuticles around his fingernails as his whole body screamed for him to do what was better for him, which was to lie.

"Yes. Since recently." He replied.

"Oh, I see – I've been living here for four years now. I'll probably have to move out soon. For now, they think my unchanging appearance is due to good genes." She said softly, pouring the contents of the saucepan into two ice cream goblets.

God, she really does make fucking blood jelly.

He blinked and looked at her, hearing the silence around them, recognising that he should answer something after all.

"Thank you. For yesterday. For your understanding." He said finally, his thumb digging into his skin too hard, creating a small, red wound along his fingernail.

Blood.

He saw her flinch and look over her shoulder – her eyes were big, as if she was surprised by something, her lips parted slightly, as if she felt arousal.

"– oh – do you want a plaster? –" She muttered, turning back – he noticed that her hands were shaking as she set the cups down in the fridge.

He lifted his finger to his lips and licked the bright red, sticky liquid from it.

"– no need –"

He saw her reach for her plastic cup, her eyes closed as she drew a few deep, greedy sips from the straw.

His manhood twitched in his trousers with delight at the thought that she craved his blood.

He swallowed hard when she came to him close enough that he could smell her clearly again – the psychological advantage he thought he had gained over her dissolved into thin air when he realised he wasn't driven by desperation then.

She smelled so good.

She tasted so good.

Maybe he could stay with her longer?

"Maybe we could be friends?" She asked.

He looked at her, feeling that his eyes were wide open in disbelief. Seeing that he had opened his mouth to answer something, she continued quickly, as if she feared she knew what he would answer.

"I have no one here. I don't trust myself enough to spend time alone with other people. I'm afraid of hurting them. But with you, I don't have to be afraid. You're new here too, so... I want you to know that you can count on me in times of need." She said quickly, stammering a few times, as if she was ashamed of her own words.

Was that why she had brought him to her home?

Because she was lonely?

"I don't know." He muttered, this time answering honestly.

"Okay. I just wanted you to know that the door to my house would be open for you."

After all, you don't know me completely, he thought.

You don't know if I didn't kill someone yesterday, if I won't hurt you, rob you, destroy your life out of boredom, for fun.

"How can you be so naive?"

He wasn't sure if he'd really said the question or if he'd only heard it in his head, but her expression told him that the words had left his mouth after all.

"You think so?" She muttered, heartbroken, as if his opinion meant something to her.

Why?

"I was thirsty and you allowed me to satisfy my hunger. You invited a strange man into your home. I could have raped you, I could have killed you. I still can." He snorted with a wide grin, looking at her in disbelief.

He saw her swallow hard, something moist shining in the corners of her big eyes.

"Maybe that's what I wanted. Maybe that's what I hoped for."

He felt a twinge in his stomach at her words, serious and filled with regret.

What were they really talking about now?

Was she hoping he would kill her?

"What do you mean?" He asked, running his fingers over the soft material that covered the armchair he was sitting on.

I can end your torment if you want me to and drink your blood to the last drop.

"I am alone. I can't talk to my parents or the friends I had before I…" She mumbled and drew in air loudly, apparently trying not to cry.

He was wrong.

It probably hadn't even been ten years since she'd been transformed.

How was it possible that she was doing so well?

Young vampires were usually feral and hungry, seeking pleasure in orgies full of blood. She, meanwhile, lived in her small flat like some kind of hermitage and worked as if nothing had happened.

That's why she cooked food, that's why she dressed the way she did, that's why she decorated her flat according to contemporary fashion.

She didn't want to let go of her old life.

"I'm sorry." He said and once again, he was honest. "In truth, I admire your self-control."

"I killed my dog. My best friend. A labrador with big, brown eyes." She mumbled out, fiddling with her fingers, whooping with the tears that began to run down her face one by one.

She had no one to tell about this, so she treated meeting him like a confession.

"I see. Then you ran away from home?" He asked calmly, for some reason feeling towards her words nothing but understanding.

His father's numb body lying on the floor beneath him, his loud panting when he finally regained his composure – he could see perfectly his lifeless eyes open in horror, his mouth spread wide, his throat ripped apart as if it had been torn by an animal.

He loved him, but he never noticed him.

He showed him no support when his eye was taken away, instead comforting his daughter from his first marriage.

Why was it always her and never him?

"Yes." She muttered wearily, her breathing deep and laboured, full of suffering.

"Do they know what happened to you? Where are you now?" He asked further, and she shook her head.

"Good. You did the right thing." He stated.

He raised his hands slightly in the air, surprised, as she sat on his lap and snuggled into him, embracing him around the waist.

She was sobbing like a little child, and in a way she probably was one – torn away from her family and what was familiar to her, she was wandering around the world alone and aimless, filled only with longing and grief.

He struggled to accept the thought that he understood her all too well.

He shuddered when he felt her warm, heavy breath on his neck – his hand ran over her back reassuringly, giving her wordless permission to take what she needed.

Comfort.

He'd only let Alys drink his blood so far, but for some reason he couldn't and didn't want to refuse her – he closed his eyes and sighed, tilting his head back as he felt her fangs slowly dig into his skin with surprising gentleness.

He heard something that sounded to him like a grunt of pleasure when she swallowed a loud gulp of his blood – his lips parted as her hips rolled forward, brushing it against his half-hard erection.

His fingers clenched on her flesh as he involuntarily reciprocated the movement, reaching out to meet her – they both began to breathe louder, as if surprised that they were taking pleasure in two forms of intimacy at the same time.

Their bodies rubbed against each other in calm, gentle harmony, his nose sunk into her soft hair, which he combed with his fingers, the sound of her swallowing arousing him more and more with each passing second.

She needed him.

He wanted to be needed.

He always had.

When she finally pulled away from his neck she pressed her cheek against his chest, exactly as he did then, and took a deep breath, as if she had accomplished some great achievement by not drinking his blood to the last drop.

"…shall we eat our jellies?"

[gadriezmannsgirl]

Hello!✨ I'm kind of back to writing, truth is I've been wanting to write some things these past weeks however it's been impossible for me to be able to come up with something, I'm having serious writers block😭it's a bit frustrating because I love writing😭😭😭 but I'll try my best to end all the requests and hopefully fully come back!🫶🏻

This is a kind of small reaction with Barça Boys (Pedri, Gavi, Fermín and Ferran) , let me know what you guys think!✨

Slam Car Door

Pedri:

He jumped in his seat, his eyes wide as he saw you slam the door of his car

"Madre mía" (Dear god) He whispered, you opened the door to his car

"I'm so sorry" You say with your hand covering your mouth "I didn't meant to, I couldn't grab the door properly and the wind knocked it out of my hands"

"No te preocupes, amor. Ten cuidado, ¿Sí?" (Don't worry, love. Be careful, yeah?) You nod smiling

"¿Compro un kilo o dos de plátano?" (Should I buy one or two kilos of bananas?) You ask

"Dos. Uno pa' ti y el otro pa'mi" (Two. One for you and the other for me) You laugh nodding

"Got it" You went to close the door and Pedri once again jumped when you slammed the door. His mouth opened and one of his hands moved in question

"Amor" You could read his lips from the window

"It's the wind! It's the wind!" You hurriedly say opening the door once again

"Be careful, bonita. The door can break and-"

"I know, I know. I'm sorry, I'll be careful" You say blowing him a kiss, closing the door.

"Y/N!" He yells when he sees you slamming the door "¡Preciosa!"

"What?" You ask giggling

"Stop doing that!"

"What am I doing?!"

"When we get home I swear I'll slam the door of our bathroom!"

"Don't you dare, Pedro González!"

Gavi:

"Any other thing you want me to buy?" You ask lifting your head up from the notes on your phone to look at your two years boyfriend

"I think that would be it"

"You sure? I don't want to forget anything"

"You can add the things we might need to do burguers"

"You want to eat burguers?" He nods smiling softly, you smile before writing down the items you'll need for the dinner "And that's it?" You look down at his hand in your thigh and played with his fingers.

"Yes I think that would be it, unless you'd like to add something at last minute"

"Probably I will" He laughs "I'll be going then" You undo the seatbelt "Hopefully in fifteen minutes, I'm back" You lean over to kiss his cheek.

"Take your time, preciosa"

He grabs his bottle of water from the cupholder and drinks from it. Only to get choked up by it when he hears the slam, his pouty face turns into his famous frown, eyes full of confusion.

"Are your parents coming tomorrow, right? Or is it next week? I'll be cooking your mom's favorite, so should I buy the ingredients now or wait until we're on a closer date?"

"They're coming next week" He confirms what you already know

"So, should I buy them later?" He nods

"Yes, tomatoes can get bad really quick so it's better that way" He nods his eyebrows furrowed. He looked so cute, you wanted to laugh.

"Perfecto, gracias" (Perfect, thanks) You close the door once again, before almost leaving you saw his eyes wide open, trying to figure out how to call you out on this. "Also, do you want me to buy the big jar of nuts?" You ask "or maybe the medium"

"Any of them it's fine" He nods "Something's wrong?"

"No, why?"

"It seems like you're mad"

"I'm not, baby. Why do you say that?" He gets quiet for a minute before shaking his head "Nothing" He whispers "Try not close the door so hard, bebé"

You look at the door before letting a small -oh- acting as if you didn't knew what was bothering him "Did I close it too hard?" He nods instantly

"Joder, si" (Fuck yeah)

"Ay, lo siento" (Sush, I'm sorry) You nod "I'll be careful" You say blowing him a kiss, he winks back at you, you smile and stopped for a few seconds before slamming the door shut.

You could only see his eyes wide open and the "Me cago en la-" he let out before you ran away while laughing, soon you heard the sound of the honk of your boyfriend's car and his yell of your name. You made sure to buy his favorite chocolate cake that day.

Fermín:

"Want me to go with you, amor?"

"Don't worry, Fer. You can stay here, I'll be back in a few minutes" You lean over to kiss his cheek twice before he moved his head and crashed his lips into yours

"Be careful" He said before giving you another kiss, you giggle

"I'll re-stock my girly things and be back in a few minutes"

"I know but still" You smile

"Te quiero mucho más" You say "Want me to bring something for you?"

"I'm so in love with you, you're too cute"

"Te quiero"

"A muffin would do"

"Got it" You got out of the car and without looking back you slammed the door, you started walking but the honk of your boyfriend's car interrupted you "What's up?"

"I think the door wasn't closed"

"Oh! Let me do it again" You slammed the door once again, a bit stronger than before "Better?" You asked and he shook his head

"Not yet" You opened it and closed it again "More" You did it once again putting all of your strenght, you winced a bit in this last one

"Now?"

"Nope"

"Fermín!"

"You were the one starting it, mi amor!"

Ferran:

"¡Ostras!" (Fuck!) "Cuidado, un poco mas y se te devuelve la puerta, preciosa" (Careful, a little more and the door will be returned to you, precious)

"I'm so sorry, Fer! I didn't meant to!"

"That you pay for my door insurance, nena"

"Ferran, stop. It wasn't that bad!"

"Que no fue tan mal? Casi me tiras la puerta en la cara!" (It wasn't that bad? You almost threw the door in my face)

"Exagerado" (Exaggerated)

"Not exaggerated, I'm just taking precautions" You roll your eyes

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Torres. I'll go" He nods

"I'll be waiting for you, beautiful" You smile and close the door once again. You looked at Ferran who simply looked at you, you tried your best to hold your laughter

"What?"

"I know what you're doing and you won't get any reaction from me!"

"What do you think I'm doing?!"

"You dislike this car and want me to buy another one, right?"

"That's not-"

"Save it. I'll do it"

"No! If you want a new car you don't have to say I influenced you"

"But you did" He said "My mind's already setting everything up"

"But I didn't! All I was doing was slamming your car door to see your reac-" You cut yourself off and Ferran's eyebrows went up lightly. You fell in his trap.

"¿Estabas tirando la puerta de mi coche?" (Were you slamming my cars door?)

"In my defense... I was trying to see your reaction and I didn't do it that hard!"

"No, ¡Un poco más y la puerta llega a mi cara!" (No, a bit more and the door gets to my face!)

"¡Mentira!" (Liar!)

"Venga, vamos" (C'mon, let's go) "I'll go with you"

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviymarcsbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld @http-isabela

[ariestrxsh]

🍕 content warning: smut, use of handcuffs, coercion (?), praise, pain kink, edging, begging, dick riding, sub!pizzaboy!chris, dom!policeofficer!reader

🍕 author's note: i wrote a part one to this story that you can read here, but this piece of writing can stand on its own and doesn't need any context, and you don't need to read in order to enjoy!

🍕 summary: during a routine traffic stop with the same pizza delivery boy you've pulled over many times before, you decide to teach chris a lesson about breaking the law. will you let him get off with a warning?

pizza guy part two

Chris had just dropped off his last delivery of the night, and he was on his way back to the pizza shop, cruising down a big hill on a backroad in his small town. Rap music was blaring through his speakers, and he had his windows rolled down to air out his car from the joint he'd just smoked in it earlier, ignoring the 25 MPH signs he sped past.

While Chris was drumming his fingers on his steering wheel to the beat of the song, blue and red lights started flashing in the reflection of his rearview. "Fuck," he groaned under his breath, rolling his eyes and pumping his brakes.

He just knew it would be you. The same officer who hassled him at least once every couple of weeks in that same area, but at least that meant he could probably get out of the ticket pretty easily with a little flirting.

He started rifling through his glove compartment for his registration and proof of insurance as you sauntered up to the driver's side of his car. "Don't you know to wait with both hands on the wheel until after I approach your vehicle?" You scolded him, shining your flashlight in his face.

"Ma'am, with all due respect, what kind of rule is that?" Chris asked, squinting up at you and glancing at your badge. Sure as shit, same cop who's been harrassing me for several months, he thought to himself.

"The kind of rule you follow when you don't want some rookie to pull a gun on you because they think you're reaching for a weapon," you dryly responded, studying his red, bloodshot eyes.

"Why didn't you pull your gun out on me then, ma'am?" Chris smirked, pulling his license out of his wallet. "Because you're hardly a threat, Chris Sturniolo. And I'm not a rookie."

"Would've been kind of hot if you had," Chris flirted, running his fingers through his luscious hair and smiling at the you before handing over his information. You did your best to hold back a smirk, shining your light on his documents.

"You know why I pulled you over?" You asked, holding intense eye contact. "Respectfully, ma'am. I know better than to answer that question. But I think the reason you specifically keep pulling me over is because you're too shy to ask me for my number," Chris winked at you.

A micro-expression of desire crossed your face. "I'm gonna go run your information," you responded, ignoring his comment and making your way back over to your car to run Chris' name through the database.

Chris' light flirting usually awarded him immunity when it came to your threats to give him speeding tickets. You were still going to let him go, but you wanted to make him sweat a little first, maybe in more than one way. Chris was a chronic law breaker, and what a perfect opportunity to teach him a lesson.

You strolled back over to the car, handing Chris his license back. "Step out of the vehicle, Chris," you ordered, crossing your arms over your chest and tapping your boot on the pavement while you waited. Chris took his time, slowly getting out of his Honda Accord and nervously biting his lip.

This was the first time you'd asked him to get out of the car, and your demeanor was less playful than usual. "Ma'am, am I in trouble?" His asked with his sparkly eyes locked on yours, giving you a submissive look.

"Your music is breaking sound ordinance, you were going almost 20 over the limit, and your car reeks of marijuana. What do you think?" You gave Chris a stern look, narrowing your gaze. "I know, ma'am. I was just taking the edge off after a long day of work," Chris shot you an innocent smile.

"Turn around and put your hands behind your back," you ordered him. "Bet you've been dreaming about this, haven't you?" Chris peered back at you over his shoulder as you clicked the cold, hard, metal restraints shut around both his wrists.

"Chris Sturniolo, you're under arrest," you started before reading him off his rights and patting him down. You knelt down, running your hands along the sides of his jeans. "You don't have any weapons or anything sharp on you, do you?" You asked, continuing to frisk him.

"No, ma'am. Nothing like that," Chris answered, feeling the blood rush below his waist as your hands brushed against his chest, lingering a moment longer than necessary. You brought your attention to his shoulders and his arms. God, his arms. Your fingers danced across his biceps and the muscles in his forearms, and a subtle moan passed through your lips.

"Turn around, Sturniolo," you ordered him. "Yes, ma'am," Chris said, eager to do anything you told him to. He was such a sucker for a woman in charge.

You started from his ankles, running your hands along the seams of his pant legs, and you bit your lip as you came across something hard in the front of his jeans. Your eyes were drawn to his hard cock that began twitching against the denim fabric.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry. I can't help it. Being cuffed by an attractive woman and being felt up like that.. it does something to me," Chris innocuously blushed and grinned, turning his gaze away from yours. It was getting harder for you to maintain your professionalism.

"Chris, you can't keep flirting your way out of the inevitable," you shot back, studying his features, glancing between his plump lips and blue eyes. "Ma'am. Please. If I lose my license, I lose my job," Chris replied, giving you a pouty look. "You should have thought about that before you broke several laws," you answered, being cold with him.

"You wanna ruin my life?" He softly whimpered, tears beginning to well in his eyes. You yanked him by his cuffed wrists and started walking him back to the cop car. You secretly got off on his desperation.

"You've got me handcuffed. You could do anything you want to me, you know? And you're gonna choose to be mean to me," Chris pouted at you as you opened the police car door and pushed his head down as you shoved him into the back seat. Instead of shutting the door and getting into the driver's seat, you stopped and looked at him a moment.

"I'm gonna let you go. But I'm gonna have a little fun with you first," you smirked at the blue-eyed boy. His lips curled into a devious smile as he started to pick up on where this was going. "Please, don't punish me, ma'am. I'm such a good boy," Chris half-heartedly whined, going along with the roleplay.

"If you're really a good boy, then you'd do anything to get out of this ticket, hmm?" You cooed in response, beginning to unbutton your uniform, slowly revealing your black balconette bra. His eyes dropped to your breasts and how gorgeous they looked in the lacey, see-through material.

"Yes, ma'am. Anything," Chris responded, nodding at you, tortured by the fact that no matter how badly he wanted to grab them, he couldn't. You climbed into the back seat, kicking off your boots and undoing your pants.

Once you were in nothing but your sexy black lingerie, you began to straddle him, immediately going for his belt, unfastening the buckle, and fiddling with his zipper. You couldn't get his cock out of his pants fast enough. You peered down at his hard on that was drooling with precum and twitching at the thought of being caressed by you.

The only lighting provided was from the dim overhead light above the two of you, but it was enough for you to take in each other's bodies. "Holy shit, Sturniolo. I thought you said you weren't packing a weapon on you," you bit your lip, your eyes flicking up at his after you studied what he was working with.

"Oh, ma'am. It's not even all the way hard yet," he humbly admitted, his gaze glued to your breasts. You raised as eyebrow at him, pulling your panties to the side with one hand, and with the other, you held Chris' dick still as you directed it towards your heat.

Your breath caught in your throat as you descended onto his swollen tip, sliding down his length until you were filled to the hilt. As you started to ride him, you felt him grow bigger and harder inside of you.

"Oh my, you weren't kidding," you moaned as he stretched you out. "I'd never lie to you, ma'am. I'm a good boy," Chris responded lustfully, desperation bleeding into his expression. He looked at you needily, his glossy eyes boring into you and all the muscles in his face relaxing.

Chris needed this. He'd been so stressed out at work lately, his bitch of a manager always on him and his coworkers always taking advantage of the fact that he could never say no to them. He needed a dominant woman to cuff him, to tell him what a good boy he was, and ride him until he was seeing stars, and you were the perfect candidate for the job tonight.

He so badly wanted to break free from his restraints, run his hands all over your gorgeous body, but all he could do was lick his lips, watching how your breasts bounced and feeling the way your ass jiggled against the tops of his thighs.

The car lightly rocked from side to side as you found your rhythm, grinding against Chris' lap with his most precious body part stuffed inside of you. The condensation from your collective breathing started to fog up the windows. The sounds of whimpering, skin slapping against skin, and Chris' metal belt clanking against itself filled the space around you.

"You are such a good boy, aren't you? Always doing what you're told?" You panted, softly placing your hands on either side of Chris' face before your lips melded into his, your tongue begging for admission into his mouth. He allowed you in, sloppily making out with you while you rolled your hips forward, putting a wonderful pressure on his desperate dick.

"Mhmm," he moaned against your lips as you picked up speed, the two of you each periodically breaking off this kiss to catch your breaths. "Good boy," you whispered, brushing your thumb against Chris' cheek and looking back at his needy expression.

"Yes, ma'am. I'm such a good boy. I'll let you do anything you want to me. You can use me whenever and however you want," he offered, his bedroom eyes glazing over as he felt your walls fluttering around his girth. His words were like music to your ears, sending waves of pleasure through your body as you jounced urgently on his throbbing cock.

"Ma'am. Can I please cum? You don't know how bad I need it," Chris looked at you with flushed cheeks, parted lips, and a furrowed brow as he neared his climax. "Not yet, pretty boy. I'm not finished with you just yet," you seductively responded.

You'd dreamt of this moment since the first time you pulled Chris over and let him off with a warning, but the reality of it was even hotter than any scenario you could have imagined. You loved having him cuffed in the back of your cop car while you mercilessly rode him.

"Ma'am. Please. I need to cum," Chris urged you, holding eye contact while needy whimpers poured from his lips. "Awh. Does my pretty boy need to cum?" You teased him, caressing his face again. "Yes. Please," he replied, his voice cracking in desperation.

"Don't you dare," you said, grabbing him by his ear and tugging on it. He winced in pain. His hands were losing feeling from being pinned behind him for so long, and the metal from the cuffs was digging into his wrists, but he loved every second of being under your spell. He loved the pleasure, the pain, and the wonderful concoction the two sensations created in his system.

"It hurts so good. Please let me finish," he begged again. You shook your head, denying his request, a smug smile protruding in the corner of your mouth. He licked his lips, hissing through clenched teeth as he tried to ward off his orgasm a bit longer, but you could tell he was fighting a losing battle.

"Officer. Please. Ma'am. I've been such a good boy. I can't take it. I'm gonna bust," Chris warned you, his voice breaking as he begged you. "Only because you've been such a good boy, and you asked so politely," you answered.

A satisfied smile washed over Chris' face as he let go, allowing the knot in his stomach to snap. "Good boy. Cum for me," you demanded, clenching around his big dick and nearing your own orgasm. The two of you climaxed together, your bodies pressed up against each other and moving in unison.

His hips snapped up to meet yours, and you could feel him pulsating inside your heat, giving you his warm, sticky seed as you finished onto his rock hard cock. "Yes, ma'am. Thank you. Thank you so much," Chris whimpered in response, his voice saturated with lust and neediness. You slowed down to a stop, still rhythmically contracting around him, milking him dry.

Your radio started to go off, bringing you back to earth. Your captain was calling you back to the station. With Chris still inside of you, his breath sounding jagged and labored as he recovered from the intense feeling, you hit the push-to-talk button on the side to respond.

"Loud and clear. Sorry. Got caught up in a traffic stop. Over," you released the button, climbing off of Chris and slipping back into your uniform.

You helped Chris back out of the vehicle, releasing him from the restraints and leaving a trail of kisses down his neck as a parting gesture before seductively whispering into his ear, "Until next time, Sturniolo. Maybe next time I'll let you play with my gun."

taglist: @dystfopia @bsturnzmtts @sturniolo-girl @theyluvme-2315 @jassturn @brookiecookie-18 @maggot3647 @slut4chriztopher @strnlslvr @sleepysturniolo @lvrsturniolo @sofieeeeex @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @matts-myloverboy @witchofthehour @slutforsturniolosss @sturniolosweetheart33 @whoahoahoahoahoa @ilovechrissturniolosposts @smt-obsessed @sturnioloxlver @that1fangirll @hrtz4alex2211 @luvhsien @sp3ncerslvt @sturniolo-munch44 @jakewebberswifee @ssturniolooss @thenickgurl @sturniolo-fann @sst7niolo @babysturniolo @chestersturniolo @riowritesitall @camzeecorner @mattsturnixlo @annedebeijer @scorpioosworld @mattlover-00 @sweetlikesug4rvenom @m11rx @sturniolocharms @mickelodeon-2003 @sigmarizzler1 @chrislova @stellarsturns @lelesturniolo @sturniolodoll @ilovemattsturn @blahbel668

[inbabylontheywept]

Would you mind sharing the psalm and why you felt that person was the most humanist Mormon? I'm not religious at all but I find these sort of things very interesting.

In exchange I could offer the reason for my url ?

I'm warning you, this is kind of a mega essay, and it's fucking unhinged. Click at your own risk.

(Alright. You clicked.)

Psalms 137

By the rivers of Babylon we sat and wept

when we remembered Zion.

There on the poplars

we hung our harps,

for there our captors asked us for songs,

our tormentors demanded songs of joy;

they said, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!”

How can we sing the songs of the Lord

while in a foreign land?

If I forget you, Jerusalem,

may my right hand forget its skill.

May my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth

if I do not remember you,

if I do not consider Jerusalem

my highest joy.

Remember, Lord, what the Edomites did

on the day Jerusalem fell.

“Tear it down,” they cried,

“tear it down to its foundations!”

Daughter Babylon, doomed to destruction,

happy is the one who repays you

according to what you have done to us.

Happy is the one who seizes your infants

and dashes them against the rocks.

———

Mormonism has layers. Different cores of believers, cultures within itself. The largest group of Mormons also dominate its image within the larger culture. You know them as the nerdy, cheerful, bubbly dorks on South Park, or the hopelessly naive childlike weirdos from the Book of Mormon musical. Strangely sanitized, "wholesome" people that are, clearly, unwhole. Missing some essential part of the human experience.

(Pain, maybe?)

I think that embracing this image is letting Mormonism view itself as what it wishes it was. A group with all its rough edges sanded off, all its raw and desperate humanity scrubbed away. A clean and godly and slightly unsettling image of joy.

That isn't how it started.

Now, most people know the story of Joseph Smith. Fourteen year old farm boy starts a cult because the whole world if full of idiots, I won't repeat it because you've probably already got it from South Park. But at some point that weirdo cult did become a religion, and I would point to that moment as the Mormon War of 1838.

I don't know how far after the founding that was. Enough that Joseph Smith was a grown man. Enough that the Mormons had around 15-25 thousand members. They'd moved to the Illinois-Missouri area and were establishing settlements.

(They creeped the locals out. Of course they creeped the locals out.)

Eventually, they got pushed out of the county they'd claimed. Jackson County, it was. The state couldn't actually take that county from the people that expelled them, so to try and make the Mormons "whole" for the land they'd bought (ignoring the houses and farms they'd already set up) it gave them a new county.

Next election that came around, that county was sieged. Voting was blocked. Now, the people of the state were terrified that this weirdo voting block was going to take them over. They probably weren't wrong. Some former Mormons had straggled in from the county revealing a frankly corrupt land dealthat the early church had used to transfer resources to itself, and that served as a tipping point. To prevent their state from becoming a religious basketcase, a mob sieged the Mormon county during the next election.

The state tried to return order by sending the militia in to break up the siege, but the militia mutinied. They joined the siegers. A ground of strange, extremist violent Mormons known as the Danites rode out and attacked local settlements that were known to house the families of the militia members.

The Governor at the time - Lilburn Boggs - sent out an executive decree. The Mormons were traitors, and were to be killed on sight. It is the only religion in the US to have ever had such an order made against it.

The Mormons surrendered their county and went to Nauvoo, Illinois. There were again expelled from that city in 1846, and traveled west.

They died in great numbers and they never forgot the homes they lost.

———

I tried to tell the story as sympathetically to the people of Missouri as I could. The Mormons made messes wherever they went, and they unsettled everyone they interacted with. But they were attacked as well, and had a history of violence against them. It should not be totally surprising that they became insular and strange.

Many (most?) Mormons that learn all of their history wind up leaving the religion. It has twists and turns and knots and it is incredibly, overwhelmingly human. I think that's where the facade of Mormon perfectionism comes from - the shame of that. The desire to be something else. But being human is all I've ever wanted. And occasionally, there are people faithful in the church - layers upon layers deep - that know their history.

And they are angry about it.

I think it's more common than people realize. Did you know that until 1930 Mormons swore literal religious oaths of vengeance against the US government for the deaths of Joseph and Hyrum Smith?

I always felt like these were, in some way, the real Mormons. They knew their history, and they loved their church, and they hated what it had suffered all those years ago.

They scared me, those people. But they seemed complete. More complete than the people that had carved out everything that didn't make them smile. They'd walked into the mirror, and touched their shadow, and danced with. Melded with it.

And I knew a few like that. I was taught by one. And he didn't convince me, but he interested me. Gave me some respect for the people I left behind.

———

In the game Fallout: New Vegas, there is a character named Joshua Graham. He's a Mormon. Not like the silly children in adult bodies that they always use on TV. He has gravitas. He has put away his moral compass before, to pursue the dream of one powerful man. Poured his soul into it, helped that man conquer the whole west in piecemeal. He's a somewhat on the nose analogy of the Mormon people themselves, following Joseph Smith. And when he finally failed, when he fought a battle he could not win on the gates of the Old World Hoover Dam, he was lit on fire and thrown into the Grand Canyon to die.

But he did not die.

He says he survived because the fire in him burned brighter than the fire around him. And it seems that way when you speak with him in game. There is something compellingly bright to him. Not shiny like a new toy, or a Utah teenager that hasn't seem just how grim the world can be. He's something blinding, compelling.

But that brightness casts shadows.

He is vicious. He was saved in the canyon by the family he left, the old Mormons of a new world. And he's trying to find that part of him again, regain the soul he lost pursuing someone else's vision. But that old vicious animal part of the covenant is with him. I see Joshua Graham and I see the animal that the Mormons became to survive the West.

And in the game, there is eventually a choice given.

You can lead the tribe Joshua has joined up with out of their Zion. Their Jackson County Missouri. Peacefully and perfectly and inhumnanly transcendant, the way the Mormons wish they actually were about everything. You can give him the chance to be what Mormonism has always wished it could be. Or you can fight with them and help them reclaim their paradise, but get your hands stuck deep in the muck of this world.

Joshua Graham knows his history. He knows all the homes his people lost. And whatever brightness he's trying to regain, whatever soul he's trying to win back from the world that takes and takes and takes and takes - he wants to give it all up again to let these people keep their home.

He knows his past and he is angry.

And as the player, you help him make peace with one of two things: Being human by being fallen, or keeping his soul at the cost of reliving the ancestral trauma of losing Zion yet again.

Both were pretty visceral decisions for a Mormon teenage Babylon to make.

(Tagging @boonebignaturals in this because I need a witness to my madness.)

[dearest-and-nearest]

That's my canon and most lovely route, but with one little thing: Aretha is a mage herself. She simply doesn't feel she's a part of magic as social group.

As we all know, Malcolm's personality changes to match Hawke's. So in my canon it was hard, cruel even man, who raised the same hard and cruel daughter. For me it seems fitting why Carver feels so unconfident and nervous

But back to the post. I was talking about this many times and yes, game almost begs you to support mages, always giving you an opportunity to change your mind if you're going with Templars, but almost never - if you're with mages. If you support none in the start of act 3, Orsino is the one who gives you quests, not Meredith.

And honestly, I think it's bad. Like mages are dangerous, no matter what Anders says and wants, they are dangerous. Just remember Broken circle quest or Redcliff. Orsino helped fucking maniac simply because he was a fellow mage. Do I feel sorry for ordinary mages, who will be slaughtered? Yes, and you can still don't kill them, btw. But mostly - mages here deserve their fate, they turns to demons more quickly, than I write this post.

And honestly? I have no wonder why Meredith gone mad, she hadn't even need red lyrium for that, just imagine: you're a head of a templars in city full of mages. Your superiors do nothing, but gossip about your cruelty behind your back, while you have to do all the job, they're so useless than even can't capture apostate who came right in their arms. You're working all the time, but no matter what you do, this city is still full of bloodmages, apostates and other dangerous people.

And by the way, act 3 starts with Orsino in hightown reading speech almost right near church (i feel he would be do this near church with pleasure, but near our home is more comfortable). He left the Gallows, swimmed to docks, then went through it, all Lowtow, almost all high town, all the way we do through finals of act 2 and act 3, and nobody stopped him. And in this time game tells us that Meredith is especially tyrannical in this act

I know it's probably devs' mistake and consequence of no time and money during development, but I don't care. I'm judging the story game shows me and it what it shows and what it tells me conflicts from the first act 3 scene and even before that. And I have tendency to believe my eyes and ears, not what devs wanted to imply, but couldn't.

So yeah, I genuinely think templar route can be perfectly logical for Hawke, should we remove sympathy for circle mages for whatever reason. Does Hawke dislike their sister or do they not think that all mages are their friends - boom, they have a good reasons to support Meredith. And it's really underestimated route in fandom, because people mostly play as good ans don't know what a cool things can be in "bad" routes

While writing that Dragon Age 2 post the other day, I made a narrative connection I had never made before.

I was writing about the Templar route, and about how the game makes no bones about how the Templar route is the evil route, it's clearly narratively marked as such. Because the structure of the game sets itself up from the start to make Hawke have some sympathy for the mages: they are the child of a mage and the sibling of a mage. This is an issue that Hawke cannot exempt themselves from having opinions on.

But that said, yes, you can choose the Templar route. You can decide that the tragedy of your family being ripped apart by the mage plight has hardened Hawke's heart against them. You can join forces with the Order that has hunted your family members their whole lives. You can choose to tighten the iron fist, instead of choosing to break it. You can become the ruler of Kirkwall. You can kill your sister.

And then I realized: That's Meredith's story.

Meredith, whose sister was a mage, the sister who died from it and ripped her family apart in the process. Meredith, who hardened her heart against people like her sister and dedicated the rest of her life to punishing others like her. Meredith, who joined causes with the Templar order who made that happen. Meredith, who took over the city.

You can choose to become Meredith. The game lets you do that. But you have to know -- as you climb over her corpse to ascend her bloodied throne -- that it's not a 'good' choice.

[writeonwhiskey]

how about a seungmin drabble? something dirty and sweet? plz 💕

This is an ask that I'm including with a comment that requested a Seungmin one-shot. The more specific request was for a "best friend's brother" type story. I hope you and @miniversed enjoy it!

a/n: a semi-sweet drabble. i'm working on keeping things short because I really started writing the entire backstory for these two lol but i've narrowed it down to this one scene! this has not been edited, take it easy on me.

warnings: unprotected sex, oral (f receiving) - 18+ ONLY

word count: 2,362

You’re seated on the vanity counter with Seungmin between your legs. You don’t know how you got here, but a voice in the back of your head is screaming that you shouldn’t have accepted the invitation to come see him perform—especially without your best friend.

You part your lips as his tongue invades your mouth, satiating the desire that’s been growing in you for fourteen years. You’ve fantasized about this moment countless times and now that it’s finally happening, you want nothing more than to give in to the moment.

But you know this isn’t right. You shouldn’t be doing this.

You shouldn’t have come to this room with him.

You tangle your hands in his short, dark hair, leaning back as he starts kissing down your neck.

This is your best friend’s brother for crying out loud. What would she think? What would she say?

“Wait, wait, Seungmin,” you tug on the strands of his hair to pull him away from you. You should probably shut your eyes while you say this. You can’t look at his face—his perfect fucking face. You’ve been drooling over his face even more than usual since he cut his bangs and added that slit in his eyebrow. You turn your head away from him, shaking it, “We can’t.”

“Why not?” He softly pushes your hands away from his hair and resumes kissing your neck.

“No—wait, wait,” you say again. “What about your sister?”

“What about her?” He pulls back from you, his face scrunched up. “I don’t want to think about her right now.”

“Well, I can’t not think about her—she’s my best friend. I don’t know if she would forgive me for this.”

“She doesn’t have to know,” he shrugs.

“Seungmin,” you plead softly. “You have no idea how badly I want this. How long I’ve wanted this.”

“How long?” he asks, resting his hands on your thighs and spreading your legs apart. He doesn’t wait for your response before asking a follow up question. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted it?”

Your eyes open wide. You watch as his finger inches higherup your thighs, slipping beneath your skirt. You shake your head again.

“You remember that summer vacation you took with us to Jeju?” he asks softly.

Of course, you remember that trip. You were sixteen. He was seventeen. You were nervous to go out on the beach in your bathing suit—your first time wearing one since your body had fully developed. You were afraid what people might think or say, but Seungmin smiled when he saw you and all your worries were flushed down the drain.

“I’d never seen you like that before,” he says. “You want to know what I did that night?”

Your eyes are locked on his arms on your thighs, his hands have now fully disappeared beneath your skirt. You feel his fingers rubbing along the edges of your underwear.

“I stroked my cock while thinking of you, y/n,” he admits.

“Seungmin,” you whisper. You place your hands on his chest to keep his mouth from coming back to yours.

He uses one finger to pull your underwear towards him.

“Do you want me to stop?”

You look around the empty dressing room, eyes keying in on the door to make sure it’s locked. You don’t want any of the other members or staff to come in and see you like this. This secret can’t get out. It could ruin everything.

“No, I don’t,” you tell him. “But that doesn’t mean we should keep going.”

He slips his other hand between the opening he created in your underwear, sliding a finger up and down your slit causing you to gasp, then moan. Your hands slide up to the back of his neck, clasping together.

He takes the opportunity to lean forward again and reclaim your mouth. You part your lips, allowing his tongue to enter. He tastes of adrenaline and betrayal. He keeps leaning forward, forcing you back against the mirror as he kisses you, his finger still sliding along your slit.

“We could stop,” he says, breaking the kiss momentarily. “If we keep going, though, I promise you I’ll never say a word.”

You weigh your options as his finger keeps teasing your pussy. You pull him to you to kiss him again—a bad decision. You’re ready to throw caution to the wind so long as he’s touching you like this.

This is the boy you’ve had a crush on since he walked you home in second grade and it hasn’t faded. As much as you willed it to. This is the boy who came to your rescue in the middle of the night when you started your period and his sister was asleep—he found pads for you and provided a change of clothes since you’d ruined your own.

This is the boy you cooked countless meals for when you would stay the night, and he returned from practice at 12:00am. When everyone else was asleep and he wanted a hot, fresh meal, you were there to serve him. This is the boy whose compliments on your cooking encouraged you to pursue culinary school. This is the boy who brought his entire group to the restaurant you work at and ensured them it would be the best meal of their life.

This is the boy you can’t get enough of. You have to have him. Even if it’s just once. Even if it has to be a secret. Even if it can never happen again.

You slide your hands down and push back on his chest once more. You hold your fist out in front of him, pinky raised. This is so wrong.

“Promise?” you ask.

He hooks his pinky through yours with a crooked grin, “Promise.”

He lowers your intertwined pinkies until your hand is at the waistband of his pants and as you fumble with the button, his lips crash against yours.

So many thoughts are racing through your head—is this really okay? Will his sister ever find out? Will you be able to live with this secret?

But then, he’s pulling your underwear down and, quite frankly, you couldn’t give two shits. That’s for the you of tomorrow to worry about. Tonight you get to have him. Fucking finally.

You successfully unbutton and unzip his pants, and he steps back to pull your underwear completely off. You relax against the cold mirror, watching as he removes the sweatshirt he’s wearing and when his bare torso comes into view, you know you’ve made the right decision for yourself.

You have to experience this. Even if it’s just once. You have to get him out of your system and lay this crush to rest.

He pushes his pants and boxers down as he steps back towards you, freeing his cock. You subconsciously lick your lips at the sight, and he chuckles in response. You wiggle around on the desk, lifting your skirt up higher and scooting to the edge.

He grabs you by the waist with one hand, and spits in the other before sliding it against your pussy. He grips the base of his cock and lines himself up at your opening.

You lock your hands together behind his neck, biting your lip and holding your breath for what’s to come. His lips are back on yours as he slowly eases his cock inside. You moan into his mouth as he buries himself in you, partially in shock that this is really happening and not another dream.

He places his other hand on your waist and moves you closer to the edge of the vanity counter as he starts slowly thrusting in and out of you.

You squeeze your eyes shut, reveling in the feeling. You rock your hips back against his. He groans and breaks the kiss, pulling back to watch his cock at work.

“You’re so wet for me, y/n,” he says.

You moan and nod.

“How long?” he asks.

You’re so focused on fucking him back it takes you a moment to realize he’s even asked you a question.

“Too long,” you breathe.

“And is it as good as you imagined?” A coy smile is on his lips.

“Better,” you reply without hesitation.

He suddenly withdraws from you, but before you can panic that you’ve said the wrong thing, he drops to his knees. He hooks his arms under thighs, hands reaching over them to spread your pussy apart. He presses a long, hard lick up your slit and you just about collapse.

Your brain cannot comprehend. Seungmin is on his knees. Licking your pussy.

“Mmmm,” he moans between licks, “we taste good together.”

You fall back against the mirror with a heavy, satisfied sigh.

Why would he say that? How can you live knowing his lips have uttered such a phrase. How can you look him in the eyes the next time you’re with him and his family, and your best friend, knowing he’s said that?

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

And then, his fingers are inside you while he sucks your clit into his mouth. And it doesn’t fucking matter. You’ll figure it out.

“Seungmin,” you pant.

He doesn’t stop his actions, but he looks up at you with those deep, brown eyes and your heart all but explodes at the sight. His face, buried between your thighs, eyes locked on you and only you as he fucks you with his fingers; his mouth working wonders on your clit.

“Can you—please,” you try to get a sentence out but your head falls back against the mirror with a thud, eyes rolling into the back of your head. Your hips thrust against his fingers and mouth of their own accord and your arch your back.

“Fuck, yes,” he pauses sucking your clit to say, “Give it to me, y/n.”

And how could you not?

You grit your teeth to keep from alerting the entire backstage crew of your activities. You place your feet on the counter, gripping your hands in his hair and pushing your hips against his face as you come.

His fingers and mouth don’t stop until you’ve finished trembling. You collapse against the counter with a sigh as he stands, his mouth smiling and glistening with your juices. Holy fuck, you can’t believe your eyes.

Even in your weakened state, you still want to taste him. You use all your remaining energy to sit up and reach for his cock.

“Next time,” he says pushing your hand aside as he pulls you down from the counter.

You stare back at him, blinking. Dumbfounded.

You never intended for this to happen in the first place. Now he’s insinuating there will be a next time? You don’t know if you can handle it. But you do know that it shouldn’t happen.

He kisses you, allowing you to taste yourself on his lips. And he’s right—you do taste good together. It’s a shame.  

He turns you around, forcing you down with a hand on your back until your torso is pressed against the counter. He pushes your skirt up higher, exposing your ass. He palms one cheek as he lines himself up at your entrance again. You glance at him over your shoulder, watching as he eases himself into you and let out a sigh when he’s all the way in.

It truly feels better than you could have ever imagined. Is it because this feels taboo? Is it because having his cock inside you feels like everything you could ever want or need?

You wiggle your ass back against him and turn your head to face the mirror. You watch his reflection as he slowly withdraws, then slams himself back into you. You both moan as he repeats the process, gripping your hips to pull you to him with even more force.

You lay your palms flat against the counter, bending your knees slightly to bounce back against him.

“Y/n,” he groans, his eyes glued to where your bodies are connected, “I never thought—oh, fuck!”

You fuck him back as he loses his train of thought and smacks your ass. He bares his teeth, breathing heavily as he rams into you.

This is so wrong, and you both know it. There may be consequences to pay, but it will be worth it.

“I’m gonna come,” he warns you.

You lock eyes with him through the mirror and give a subtle nod. His fingers dig into your waist, and he pulls you back against him with all the strength in him as he comes.

His thrusts slow down as he spills into you. You rest your head against the counter to hide your smile, satisfied with each groan that falls from his lips.

When he’s done, he fully withdraws his cock and takes a step back to admire his handiwork.

“Don’t move,” he says, pulling his pants back up. He then digs inside his back pocket and retrieves his phone.

“Seungmin,” you protest and start to stand.

He lowers you back against the counter and presses his jeaned thighs against your bare ass. He angles his phone above you and snaps a picture.

“I need something to get me through this tour,” he tells you.

You’re not sure what to make of that, but it feels like a compliment.

He puts his phone back into his pocket and palms your ass again, making you moan. He steps away and picks up your underwear from the ground, tucking them into his front pocket. He reaches over you for the tissue on the counter and finally wipes you clean.

“You should come out with us tonight to celebrate the start of the tour,” he says, tossing the tissue into the trash.

“I should probably go home and shower,” you say, standing up and turning to face him.

“Not yet,” he wraps an arm around your waist to pull you to him. “I want you to walk around with us on you for a while.”

You look up at him and take a deep breath. What have you gotten yourself in to?

a/n: how was that? did my best to keep it short and to the point! hehe this was fun! once again, asks are open for one-shots!

[abyssal-author-and-artist]

If this gets twenty notes by tomorrow (9:40 mst i believe) I'll make cake Hit by SIX AM my timezone. What.

If it gets thirty I'll make cookies Hit by six am again.

If it gets fourty by 6 mst I'll go to bed on time and not doomscroll Also hit when I woke up

And with no specified time limit

If it gets fifty I'll clean my room again

If it gets sixty I'll pick up a sonic game again and not put it down until I beat at least three levels

Seventy and I'll finally get venmo up and running and commissions open

Eighty I'll sew myself some clothes I want Everything fifty to eighty was hit by 9 my timezone.

Ninety I'll pirate Slay the Princess (it's dev approved pirating bc I'm broke) This goal was going to be cancelled but we hit ninety by ten in the crabbing morning. So I'm waiting until I can buy it because I'm riding out my ISaT obsession first.

And one hundred I'll go for a walk every day for a week straight even if i hurt Hit by like 11 my timezone. Sure. I guess I'm doing walks now. Also note 101 was me and doesn't count but fuck it! More goalposts I guess! Reblog this version

120 I'll do a digital painting of a fuckable concept of space for my mutual @onelonelyghost0 like I've been threatening Oh No I have to paint/silly (I'm actually looking forward to it lol)

150 I'll revamp and release a Soul Eater oc I made when I was ten

170 I'll finally write my Warrior Cats essay on "why Power of Three/Omen of the Stars arc is my favorite and handles the story it wants to tell the best but the Prophecies Begin has the best story" like I've wanted to for forever

200 I'll take at least one walk a week for a month no matter the weather (it's snowy in winter where I am)

250 I'll uh fuck ig I'll write an oc i've been working on into a proper story and publish it? It'll be hard bc digital painting but whatever

300 Ha you think we're getting here? 100 was a fluke. If we somehow hit here I'm going to eat three meals a day including breakfast, even on college days, no excuses. If I'm going to abuse Tumblr notes forcing me to do stuff I want to but never would, I'm going to force myself to eat

400 Okay guys this is absurd and we're not getting here. If we do I'm going to come out as trans to my best irl friend (she's not transphobic but one of her closest friends (her ex boyfriend) is. Luckily he's not scary-transphobic, he's just "you're not valid" transphobic and his opinion means nothing to me so I lose nothing by him knowing I'm trans)

Probably won't need more than that and I know this will get buried so @animnightmare Leslie get over here

Also no more than ten reblogs per person

[biancadoes1]

Remember when Nicola said people want her to marry Luke in probably one of the most esteemed articles about her to date? And she gushed about how special their friendship is but didn’t say that they’re only friends or even didn’t say “like cute but that’s never going to happen”, in fact she didn’t even have to mention him because she wasn’t really asked about him?

And remember that Nicola is doing an audiobook about an actress on a regency era show falling in love with her costar after feeling a spark doing their scenes? And it’s coming out the day before Luke’s birthday?

Those are all fun things to remember

Yeah the amount of people that tried to reach to explain why she brought up people wanting her to marry Luke was far too many and the excuses that came with them were very entertaining.

While I may have questions about why that quote was likely added to the online version and not to print (speculation but the paper moon she gave us only had one meaning that week), there's really no explanation that equates to being just friends or only friends.

The fire was simmering on the ship until that point. She poured gasoline on it with mentioning Luke and marriage in the same sentence.

Combine this with the damn audio book she's got coming out?

We almost wouldn't need chaos week - but I'm so thankful we do have it.

I know it gets hard being on the ship when we go long stretches with nothing and everything from everyone else but just remember to have patience. We're all here for a reason and we've all stayed (I feel like I've been put through the fucking ringer man) because of what we've been given.

Hopefully we're getting closer to something.

[ellouchi]

Yet again I see people mischaracterizing Jimmy as some jerk who lashes out on people for no reason and berates them for anything minor like where did you get this from did you actually read any dialogues in the game????????

Jimmy really only threw one shade at Daisuke, he didn't think he was spoilt rich kid he just said he was covered by his parents because he had support system unlike all of them grown up adults. Most of times Jimmy just awkwardly slid off silly things Daisuke said, like the ladies comment or when they were mixing the drink. Daisuke actually trusted and listened to Jimmy throughout the game (to his own detriment unfortunately). Jimmy sent him to the vent because he was the captain and he wasn't going to do the dirty job obviously and if the Swansea somehow woke up Jimmy could shift the blame like he had already got away with. Even when eventually things went to shits we don't see him blaming Daisuke because Jimmy recognised that it was his decision to send him there. Jimmy didn't want to fatally injure him, he tried to "fix it later" which didn't help at all and Jimmy felt guilty about it.

Jimmy treated Anya dog shit half the time it's true but not to the extent some people make it to be. He loves control, he has said so to Curly's face, to ours and that's why he made sure to put her down and belittle her. That's why he (potentially repeatedly) sexually assaulted Anya — because rape is form of power play, he didn't even want her sexually. Initially, Jimmy didn't hate Anya, he just didn't like her and the feeling was mutual. He continued to do bare minimum for her, like when checking up on the crew. If I had to guess how Jim viewed her by the end, then he most likely found her inferior, incompetent, always putting work on his shoulders (or responsibilities he didn't want (pregnancy)), together with being paranoid of her having the potential to ruin his life. That's why he got so pissed off when he saw her crying to Swansea, very likely having already told another person of what he has done. (I'm 100% sure he holds the grudge for telling Curly, who then rushed to "fix things", making Curly seem like a responsible captain which Jim hated.)

Jimmy never made any attempts at understanding or sympathising with Swansea. He knew him longer than Daisuke yet the latter understood him better. Jimmy probably thought that Swansea was an old grumpy man who hated everyone and everything. As the game went on Jimmy just considered Swansea to be nothing but a selfish drunkard (due to immediately assuming he was hoarding cryopod to himself). After the vent incident who Jim blames for the absence of medicine? If Swansea wasn't so stubborn (for like, few times) Jimmy wouldn't have need to spend prescious recourses on him. He could have saved Daisuke instead and fix his fuck up but Swansea ruined it twice. Swan doing arguably the right thing by putting out Daisuke out of his misery only solidified his role as a villain and a threat in Jimmy's eyes, that's why probably as a revenge (for not giving him enough time to think) he went for the gun instead of cryopod like Swansea allowed him to.

And finally Curly. Honestly this deserves a separate book on it's own at this point. It's almost 3 a.m. here so I'll only mention some stuff. Jim aggressively lashes out twice on-screen, first time because he literally lost his dream job, listened to Curly "bitching about having said dream job" and couldn't come face to the fact that Curly was "abandoning him while also looking unscratched from the fall of the ladder" while Jimmy will return to his struggle of life (he didn't even know about the pregnancy yet...). Second time was when Anya endangered Jim's new status as a captain and like I mentioned reminded him that she could fuck up his life even more. Feeling like he was losing control, Jimmy beat up poor Curly who was stripped out of said control by non other than Jimmy. Finally, he was violent off screen by destroying Polle, out of frustration, irritation from the thing, and/or hatred and resentment for the company (que "Pony express is dead" line). In one instance he says "He's mocking us" which confirms that it's about Jimmy's ego.

In conclusion STOP MAKING MY SHITTY CHARACTER SHITTY IN THE WRONG WAYS. This isn't even a full blown analysis of Jimmy's character but accumulation of posts I read and conclusions I came with.

Focus on his already preexisting shitty qualities stop making up new ones ffs signing out.

[klara-v-klyare]

I've just re-watched Logan 2017 and I got a little upset. (Well, not a little, but I'm not talking about the movie).

In most of the fanfics I've read, and I've read something like 1500 completed ones on Deadpool & Wolverine because I have an obsessive hyperfixation like a disease...

Nevermind.

So. In these fanfics, Laura always remembers her Logan as a hero, a respectable father figure, etc. Although, in reality (in the movie), Logan initially behaved like a god damn fucking asshole, he didn't give a shit about Laura.

He was very tired, he saw that his body was tired too, it was not regenerating normally, he was bleeding, his claws did not come out all the way and made the wounds from them fester. He knew that he was getting poisoned by his own adamantium bones. And he just wanted to run away to nowhere in the middle of the ocean with Charles Xavier, the only person he respected who was still alive and for whom he was ready to take responsibility. But the professor had other beliefs his whole life, which Logan himself may have helped shape, if you go by the lore of the other movies. And that is to help and protect the younger mutants.

Logan is very tired, he's an alcoholic and suicidal, and he's just waiting for the end to come. But it was Charles who was his moral compass until the very end. Logan had hardened over the years of shit that happened to him, he was used to letting people go, getting over their deaths and moving on without an alternative. Yes, he freaked out after Xavier's death, because, probably, besides his brother, it was the longest (not exactly human, but you get it) contact in his life with another person who knew and understood and accepted him. And he didn't even want to get involved with Laura after that. Most of his heroism was that he finally died for what the person he respected so much believed in. He died for the idea of ​​a future for new young mutants. For the fact that they are not God's mistake.

And I'm glad that after this gut-wrenching drama, there's a relatively fun Deadpool movie where Logan's skeleton is used as a weapon in the opening credits fight. Where "the worst Wolverine" gives Laura a high five with the Dogpool paw. Where there's a happy ending for all of them in some other dimension. And I'm so grateful for that.

And honestly, I want someone to write a fanfic where Laura finally comes clean to the new Logan in her life about her dad, how he wasn't such a perfect hero and how he and other Wolverine are so much alike, how Laura only knew him for a short amount of time, a few days, and how "the worst Wolverine" shouldn't worry about the rivalry because the fact that he tries, and tries constantly, for a long time, and tries consistently, makes him the best in the world for her.

(Doesn't mean that she gotta forget her own father. Just that her Logan doesn't have a holy halo of heroic immunity. Both Woverines are the same as men who try and make mistakes, but they're still different.)

And no, I don't want someone to replace any other one. I just want them all to know that despite all the shit in the past they all have a chance to start over with each other, to let go of the past trauma and not compare what that they are and what they do and what they mean to each other to anything that happend before.

Let Laura have things. Let Laura have family. Let Laura have unkillable multiverse dads, who are not eaten alive by inner demons that they're not good enough. Why fucking not?

That's it.

(And fuck X-men movies timeline, it won't ever make sense, but I'm all in for the emotional side of this bullshit).

[wretchedwitchpussy]

Thoughts on new WWDITS episode 6x07:

•Guidor is a red herring and I'm pretty sure we saw Nandor give up on her during the post credits scene when he saw Jerry at the door because we've seen previously whenever there's a little bit of resistance to his rebound loneliness relationships he tends to give up immediately. He literally said, "Fuck it," and gave up immediately when he was met with the smallest amount of resistance in the form of Jerry.

•We have seen that Nandor is routinely out of touch with his feelings especially when he's coping. He will actively say one thing because he's trying to convince himself of that thing, even though he feels another way. I believe that he doesn't actually think that humans are replaceable, because Guillermo is proof to the contrary. The amount of times that he has protected, stayed loyal to, saved Guillermo says that he doesn't believe that.

•I'm buying into the whole "Guillermo not being fully transformed means that he's an EV" theory and I'm pretty sure that's why Colin punched the shit out of him. Colin is the embodiment of milk toast. We've literally never once seen Colin angry EVER. Except once. EXCEPT when he was having an EV-off with Evie. I think Guillermo is feeding off of others' emotions (which emotion I'm not sure?? Possibly respect or admiration? We've seen EVs feed off of a variety of different emotions) and Colin got really fucking angry because he sensed competition, like he did with Evie. I don't think Guillermo knows he's feeding though, obviously, because I think we would see a lot more of the office staff fatigued/tired if he was trying to actively feed. Though I don't know why Colin wouldn't have picked up on it like he did with Evie—something something Van Helsing blood something something Colin is still a new EV because he was just born so he's not as good at sussing out competition yet?????

•The reason I think Guillermo is feeding off of admiration or something similar like respect is because we've seen that the office staff react positively to people putting others down. When Guillermo makes fun of Colin during their bit in the conference room, the room swells with "oooohs" and laughter. I think they admire Guillermo in this moment. Cue Colin punch. The next time, Guillermo is trying to talk to the office about mental health and be a "hero" for Colin, trying to give him some grace. I would imagine this would evoke a lot of admiration or respect again, since he's trying to be kind to Colin and very publicly offer him help. Cue another beatdown from Colin.

•I think that this would also fall neatly into Guillermo's arc of always having wanted respect and admiration from others. He's always wanted to feel like someone worthy of that.

•I don't exactly know how that would really work though in continuing his arc because I feel like I would rather have him find out that he needs self-respect and self admiration before finding that another people? But that's the best I got.

•Lazlo is most definitely going to turn Sean and probably Charmaine into vampires or learn something about mortality in the process if he doesn't

•Basically Paul Simms when I catch you. Paul when I fucking GET you.

•Add your thoughts

[yoinkschief]

I did it - I finally did it, I made concept doodles of the different leaders

I've been meaning to do this for a while now, I've just kept forgetting to and then get distracted with much more pressing matters n shit so yk but I decided fuck it they don't need to be good so long as they just get my idea across,,, and then later on when I have the time, energy and patience to I can fully render them

These are all also leaning into who they are in my HCs, simply because I think it's kinda boring to just go "well what if we put person a in person b's body and keep everything else the exact same" like where's the nuance in that,,,

So all the same story beats still happen, just minor differences, like Tord still leaves and has the robot explode causing the damage (but different contexts now) and Tom is still possessed by the rage demon or whateva and Edd still gets powers and Matt still becomes a vampire,, they just are put in different plot points in the story

I don't like the idea of just reskinning characters, yk, if I were to change story beats for things like "instead of matt getting bitten by the vampire bite it was tord" I wouldn't want it to just be the same shit happens because Tord wouldn't react the same way to it as Matt would, yk ?? I don't wanna give the character's the others personalities, just their plot beats

But in this things stay relatively the same

Except in this Tom, in a desperation to live after failing to dismantle Tord's robot in an act of rage against Tord returning and pretending like nothing happened, makes a deal with his more demonic half and gives up part of his soul to live

Edd gets blown up trying to use Tord's robot against Tord's wishes and something something main characters can't die or whatever so he painfully finds out that his "poweredd" powers grant him a very fucked up version of immortality,,, I made it look goopy because I can and I'm madly in love with my partner and they've given me this idea so fuck them blame them if you want

Matt gets no lasting consequences for his actions because he's a vampire and they have MAD regenerative abilities, but he does still blow up but this time when him and Edd are fucking around in Tord's little office ?? whatever the hell it is he has stuffed in his room as a secondary room, yk when him and Edd are touching all those buttons they're not supposed to, that's what caused the robot to malfunction and Matt ends up getting the brunt of it - I mean so does Edd, and since this would be Tom's world that would probably why Matt and Edd's relationship grows sour since Edd got caught up in the blast too n whatnot I dunno I'm mostly spitballing here I haven't sat down and properly thought out these AUs yet so yk

take all of this with a grain of salt this is ALLLL subject to change in the future but for now this is what I have in my head for everything :p

[euniexenoblade]

I debated if I wanted to mock this post/screenshot for a couple hours and i decided I was just gonna go in line by line and dissect it

"being poly is a choice you make. not an identity you cannot change."

I disagree. I struggled with this through most of my teens and early twenties. The desire to be with multiple people was strong and the concept that I couldn't be with all of them was very confusing and hurtful not just to me, but the people I was with. Had I been taught what polyamory is younger and had known that monogamy is not actually the only way you're allowed to be, i'd have probably been able to stop struggling with this much sooner. Do I think this was as big of a mental struggle as being gay or trans? Nah. But it was certainly an issue that ate away at me.

As much as polyamory was a choice, so was me being trans was a choice. I would say both are inherent to who I am. Just because something isn't inherent to your identity, doesn't mean it isn't inherent to mine.

The second paragraph is a gross misinterpretation of what was said. I said abused poly people in relationships they cannot escape will likely cheat when they do find love. The same is true for monogamous people who cannot escape relationships. This happens all the fucking time. To women. To gay people. To trans people. To poly people. This is so utterly common it's an overused trope in story telling.

"OBVIOUSLY abusive situations aside"

The post was about abusive situations. You're already throwing away the core concept to the post.

"why are you staying with someone you are completely incompatible with"

This shows how this person has no value for relationships. Just because you realize you're poly doesn't mean your feelings for an individual disappears. You want to see if this relationship can still work, whether monogamous or polyamorous. Not to mention so many people would find themselves homeless or penniless by just leaving. There's no actual understanding of love and relationships and the heart here.

"you don't need to pursue any kind of relationship ever"

And gay people don't have to be in gay relationships. Trans people don't have to transition. Doesn't change the longing to experience what you want to experience.

"where exclusivity is agreed upon"

I know poly people who entered relationships under the premise the other person was poly, just for that person to decide "actually I'm monogamous, and I'll kill myself if you leave me." You have no understanding or empathy.

"wanting to be poly does not excuse cheating what is wrong with you people"

Look I agree cheating sucks and violates trust, but acting like it's the worst thing in the history of ever is just childish. I get it hurts but at the end of the day, you do not own another person's body and sometimes shit happens. I just do not care what other people do with their own bodies and you cannot make me believe I'm supposed to care. If my husband goes and fucks someone without my permission (which he commonly does) then that's rad. I hope he has fun. If my wife goes and fucks someone I don't know (which she regularly does) then fuck yeah I hope they both had fun. Y'all are too fucking uptight.

Also the tags

The "monogamous people are losers and shouldn't get a say in anything" was something I said in reply to a heckler on my 'monogamous people often abuse poly partners' post. To take it solely as 100% serious opinion is foolish and childish.

"I cheated cuz waaa"

I've never cheated on any partner. The post isn't even saying it's ok cheat, it's saying that poly people get branded as cheaters whether they do or don't. But I'll say it here just because it's so controversial that it pisses losers off: it's ok for polyamorous people to cheat on monogamous partners. Get out before they abuse you.

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  @cuips-not-cute! cuips_not_cute has six fics in the Stranger Things fandom on AO3 and all of them are in the Steddie tag!

Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by @cuips-not-cute:

he could be brave

blood is an aphrodisiac

honeyed affection

blinking red light

cyclical

"cuips is a master of taking the reader on an emotional roller coaster ride. The amount of times I've laughed and cried at the same time reading his fics have been too numerous to count. Especially the depth of the sex scenes and the character beats and growth they portray are gorgeous to read - and also very titillating. I love Steve and Eddie in every one of cuips stories, adore the little mannerisms they are given and the way they interact with each other and other characters. Besides the inspiring prose cuips can pull off a plot like few other people I've found so far - since blinking red light is still ongoing, I'll just point to cyclical for that. I'm very thankful to cuips for writing and posting these stories and for being a very active part of this lovely fandom." -- anonymous

Below the cut, @cuips-not-cute answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

i don’t even know. i was happily in the ofmd fandom when i watched season 4 almost three years ago now (oh god) and then the characters… they got me. i fear they’ll never leave.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

god, so many. they’re all kinda the same flavor though so i’ll list out what i’m always filtering for to find a new fic: bottom/sub eddie, creature/monster eddie, post s4, canon compliant, soft dom steve, sex pollen, spit kink, rimming (perhaps my FAVORITE ever thing to read), switch eddie/switch steve… the list goes on.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

probably also rimming. there’s just something so romantic about eating ass. and i really love to stick with post s4 canon compliant aus, too, i don’t think i’ve written an actual for real au yet, though i do have an idea for one after brl.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

i don’t know if i can pick!! my ao3 bookmarks host my many all-time faves, but if you wanna go by the fic i’ve reread the most it’s probably the affliction of the feeling. it’s so fucking good.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

YES!!! i have never written omegaverse!!! which is crazy, ‘cause i like it a LOT. i have a post-s4 omegaverse au kicking around in my head currently, and i cannot wait to sink my teeth into all the messy biology and politics that come with the omegaverse.

What is your writing process like?

chaotic, in a word. usually, i’ll get a fic idea while i’m balls-deep in writing another fic so i’ll shove it to the side and let it simmer while i finish that first one, then i’ll spend a good long while planning it out in ridiculous detail, and THEN i’ll start actually drafting. i like to have a fully fleshed out outline and a couple chapters written and edited before i start posting, and once posting begins i tend to deviate quite a bit from my outline but it’s all good fun.

Do you have any writing quirks?

definitely. i don’t like pointing them out for fear of other folks seeing them in everything i do, but they’re there. one that i don’t mind so much is my absolute abuse of the word “little.” everything is “a little” of this, “a little” of that, but i try to cut my usage down significantly while i’m editing.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

i always TRY to keep a schedule but… yeah. it never works. i’m far too busy for one, but attempts are made. i’d like to one day write a fic in full before posting it, because i think it’d be a whole lot better if i let it sit for that long but lord, i sure do like getting ao3 comments on every chapter. they make the writing motivation go WAY up.

Which fic are you most proud of?

brl, definitely. that fucker is LONG and i’m barely halfway through it. i think i’ve done a lot of cool things with it and i’m going to do some more cool things and i’ve made a lot of really awesome friends in the process of writing it so it’s got some pretty insane sentimental value to me. it’s definitely going to be a fic i’ll miss writing once i finish it, but that’s what the epilogue series is for!!!

How did you get the idea for blinking red light?

from another fic!!! @racketghost is the author of one of my favorite things i’ve ever read, which is the good omens zach and miri au, closed set (https://archiveofourown.org/works/23320960/chapters/55862155 <- hyperlinked), wherein crowley has been lying about the existence of some angelic sex tapes to all of hell, and then he and aziraphale have to actually make the tapes. it’s awesome. it’s gorgeous. brl is one big giant love letter to this fic, because it means so fucking much to me and i think about it ALL the time. 

When writing honeyed affection, what was something you didn’t expect?

hmm, i don’t know? ha is, i think, a pretty easygoing fic with lots and lots of porn stuffed inside it, and that was all i intended it to be so i cannot think of anything i was surprised by!!

What inspired blood is an aphrodisiac?

i just wanted to write vampire eddie. it was july ‘22, kas theories were everywhere, i had to try it. these days i think i would change a LOT about it because my ideas and hcs surrounding the characters have evolved significantly, but i’ll write vampire eddie again and “fix” everything i no longer like about biaa.

What was your favorite part to write from he could be brave?

…the fisting. i genuinely think some of my best writing is in that scene, and while i feel the same way about this fic as i do biaa, the fisting scene will always hold a special place in my heart. i’m very, very excited to write the fisting chapter in brl because of this scene. fisting rules.

How do/did you feel writing cyclical?

i wrote cyclical during a very weird few months of my life, so writing it was sort of my way of dealing with all the insane shit going on around me, and i think it shows. in a good way, though, because cyclical is a timeloop fic so it needed to be a little angsty and insane. i’m stupidly proud of that fic. @ryeallytired actually BOUND it into a PHYSICAL BOOK and SENT IT TO ME and when i tell you that is the singular most precious object i own, i mean it.

What was the most difficult part of writing blinking red light?

PLOTTING THAT BITCH. GOD. i’m so happy to be actually WRITING it now, the planning was genuinely so brutal. my issue was that i was sticking too close to the plot of closed set (<3) which just… did not work for steddie. closed set’s premise centers around crowley lying about making sex tapes, yes, but he lied about them to PROTECT aziraphale, which is the messiest, kindest, riskiest fucking thing ever. and it’s awesome. in the early planning stages of brl, i was trying to put eddie in the crowley role of lying about having made sex tapes with steve, but it reallyyy didn’t work. there was an oc and i absolutely hated him, plus i didn’t like what that premise was doing to eddie’s character… ugh. it was a MESS. it took several rubber duck-ing conversations with my brilliant friend @lollaika and a rewatch of zach and miri to finally realize that it had to be STEVE who brings up the idea of sex tapes so that he could protect eddie, rather than eddie bringing it up to save his own hide (yikes).

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

oooh, lots. reallyyyy loved chapter 8 of cyclical with all of the pov shifts, that was super fun to write. i also really enjoyed writing the dry humping/sex tape convo in the first chapter of brl, and i’m stupidly excited to write chapters 12, 13, 15, and 17, because of specific scenes that will happen in each.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

i do!! after brl is completed i’ll have to choose from two story ideas (because i cannot have two wips at once or i’ll get SO stressed), one being a semi-realistic steddie cowboy au based off my own experiences with growing up on a farm and featuring messy, earnest cowboys and not-fully-human eddie, and the other being the omegaverse au i want to write, which will have a very fun mix of vampire eddie, dubcon bitching, and accidental mating bites!!!

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

i cannot think of anything!! this was super fun :D

Thank you to our author, @cuips-not-cute, and our anonymous nominator! See more of cuips_not_cute's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[fuck-customers]

I can tolerate helping customers with technology things that are specific to my store. Such as how to connect to the wifi (you have request to connect on your settings and then a popup will appear that asks you to put in your email + name to use the wifi. I just tell people to put "No No no@no.com" It is admittedly slightly complex) or how to navigate the store's website. It can get annoying and repetitive, but I can tolerate it because these are things that are specific to my job/store, so the general public would not organically know these things.

However it is not part of my job, nor will I make it part of my job to teach you how to use your own phone, including, but not limited to:

-walking you through step-by-step on how to access a website. And I mean "go to your browser. Well what browser so you have on your phone? Firefox? Chrome? Chrome is the one that looks like the Simon game. Firefox has a fox on the logo, hence the name. Ok go to the address bar. The address bar at the top of the page. That long horizontal white rectangle at the top of the page. The TOP of the page." Etc etc

-walking you through how to download an app in the same fashion as the above bullet. If you don't know what the app store is, you don't get the coupon. Sorry. I'm entirely too burnt out for this shit.

-straight up handling YOUR phone??? Hello? Do not hand me your phone. I don't know you or where you or your phone have been. I will not be touching it.

-similar to the last point: taking a screenshot/teaching you how to take a screenshot on YOUR phone? I'm not a tech wiz, but I think it's different based on what make+model of phone you have and I can't tell what kind of phone it is just by looking at it. And more importantly, I don't want to, nor do I get paid enough to.

-what your password is?? For your app or email? How the actual fuck am I supposed to know that? I don't even know you, but I somehow know your password? Based on the intelligence you're currently displaying, I would assume your password must be "ABCD1234"

There's probably more that I'm forgetting. I could kind of understand these if I was a tech support person or worked in a technology-based store, but I work in a regular ass store. The only connection we have to technology is that we have registers and phones in the store.

On iPhone The address bar is on the bottom in Safari.

But seriously I tell them I am not allowed to touch their phone per company policy. If they ask why that's a policy (and for some reason they all do) I say "a cashier once dropped the customers phone and the store won't pay to repair it, so to keep that from happening again we are not allowed to touch it."

C: "but the last one did it for me."

Me: If they want to break policy and risk their job that's on them but I can't afford to get fired."

-Rodney