#good thing about it is I can drop it anywhere & it still works :D

[steddielations]

nonsexual d/s for sub Eddie week with art here by @ent-is-indecisive

“Eddie, will you please open the door?”

“I ruined it, Steve, I messed everything up.”

“You didn’t ruin anything, baby, let me in, c’mon.”

All the music from the party almost drowns out Steve’s voice, but a small pathetic piece of Eddie clings to it like an anchor. He opens the door and Steve’s brows knit sympathetically at the state of distress Eddie's in. It’s all fucked up.

His leather sleeve is wet and sticky, he can’t stop raking his fingers through his hair, ruining the nice waves Steve styled for him earlier because he was too much of a wreck to do it himself. It’s all fucked up.

“I fucked up.”

Shaking his head, Steve comes inside and shuts the door behind him. “It wasn’t that bad. Could’ve been worse, remember when Robin threw up in the middle of an audition.”

“Steve, at this point they’re gonna pay me not to make an album,” Eddie stresses, pacing around the bathroom. “I spilled wine all over the guy. Dale fucking Grazer wants to talk serious paper and shake my hand and I just emptied my stupid little glass all over him!”

“It was just wine, not puke or something,” Steve says lightly, trying to bring Eddie down from his frantic state. It works, his voice is a tether for Eddie to grab onto. “Come here, let me fix you up.” 

Eddie does as Steve says, not trusting himself to make any more decisions when all he’s done today is fuck up. 

Steve guides him over to the sink, wetting a towel and dabbing Eddie’s jacket. He’s so calm, like this isn’t the most important night in Eddie’s life and it’s not already blown and he can still make that hotshot from the record label like him.

Steve’s acting like everything’s fine, which makes Eddie feel stupid and small like he's overreacting, he tries to let Steve’s energy calm him too but it’s hard.

“You’re overthinking, I can see it on your face,” Steve says, being gentle but not in a coddling way that would make Eddie feel even more stupid.

He straightens out Eddie’s sleeve, good as new, then works on Eddie’s hair next. His fingers are soft and skilled and so sure, knowing exactly how to fix it and how to make Eddie melt under his touch.

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, just trying to let Steve fix everything. He's way better at fancy parties and schmoozing than Eddie is. He always knows how to get Eddie out of his head and that’s what he needs right now. As pathetic as he feels about it, he needs to stop thinking. Let Steve think for him, even.

“Wanna tell me what’s on your mind?” Steve prompts softly and Eddie is helpless but to let it all out.

“I can’t stop saying the wrong shit. Why’d I tell him my dad’s in prison? Or bring up the dropped murder charges, or all that stuff about ket, I just can’t shut up.”

“No, that’s just you, the whole big personality charismatic rockstar thing. Trust me, that guy’s got star eyes for you.”

“This is just like with Paige’s label. I messed that up, and now I’m ruining Jeff’s chance again, and—”

“No you’re not, that guy loves Jeff already, everybody loves Jeff.” 

“You’re right, he’s got this, he doesn’t need me. Let’s just get out of here, make a run for it.”

Eddie barely takes a step before Steve’s hands circle both his wrists, his grip gentle but solid, holding Eddie in place. It flips the same little switch in Eddie as the cuffs they use in the bedroom. It takes away the option to run.

Somewhere in the jumble of his mind, he knows it’s the right choice, trusting that Steve wouldn’t let him make the wrong one.

“We’re not going anywhere, baby, this is your chance too.” Steve rubs up and down Eddie’s arms, guiding him around in front of the mirror. 

It’s hard for Eddie to look at himself right now and see it written all over his face. Steve cleaned the stain and made his hair perfect again but he can’t fix whatever’s making Eddie… Well, Eddie. Whatever it is that made him flunk senior year 3 times, or screw up the first chance he had to make something of himself, or the reason Ronnie won’t pick up his phone calls, or the reason Wayne sleeps with his keys on the bedside table in case he has to come running to Eddie’s rescue like always—

Steve’s fingers lightly cup Eddie’s chin, he’s standing behind Eddie now, his body warmly pressed against him.

“Look here, honey.” Steve gently tips Eddie’s head up to meet his own eyes in the mirror. They’re glistening with unshed tears that almost fall when Steve says soft but sure, “You’re not a fuckup,” and prompts Eddie, “Say it.”

Eddie swallows the lump rising in his throat, “I’m not—” 

He chokes up a little bit and Steve waits patiently. 

“Tell yourself,” Steve whispers, all earnest-eyed in the mirror like all he wants is to make Eddie believe it.

“I’m not a… fuckup,” Eddie gets the words out and a few tears slip free with them.

Steve brushes them away. “You can do this. Say it.”

With a deep breath, Eddie tells himself, “I can do this.”

Steve kisses his temple, gives him a little praise that he admittedly needs so much right now, “You’re gonna be so good.”

Eddie’s mind starts to clear of everything that’s not Steve rocking him slowly in his arms, whispering, “You’re my good boy,” as many times as Eddie needs to hear it. He feels his confidence building back up, getting more comfortable in his skin again with Steve holding him, believing the words Steve made him say in the mirror, believing the words Steve kisses into his neck and loves into his skin. He can do this.

“Aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” 

“Tell me,” Steve prompts and Eddie turns a little, blinking slowly, eyes feeling heavy with the slow dose of bliss Steve gave him.

“I’m your good boy,” Eddie murmurs and he believes it.

When they leave the bathroom later, Steve can’t hold his hand through this, but Eddie still feels him.

He charms the fuck out of those suits from the label. They love Jeff, everybody loves Jeff, and they love Eddie too. The whole band is definitely getting signed, at least that’s what Steve says on the ride home.

Eddie greedily soaks up all the praise and attention, feeling a little spacey with it, Steve's big warm hand on his thigh grounding him. He can't wait for them to get home so he can properly thank Steve.

[senseofnewness]

now i need a nsfw alphabet with art!! please love 💟

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

I mean, of course, Art is the best at it. When it comes to taking care of you, he excels. He pulls you close and ensures you're comfortably tucked in. He treats you like royalty, always wanting to make you feel cherished and eager to stay with him. He will ask you if you need a snack, a blanket or an extra pillow. He whispers the sweetest things to you on the pillow, wanting you to know just how loved you are.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

When it comes to your body, he finds himself perpetually torn, unable to decide which part he loves most. One day, he obsesses over one feature, and the next, another captures his fascination. However, he always returns to a fixation on your perfect child-bearing hips, his hands constantly gravitating to them. Even in public, you can be sure his hands are resting on them. 

When you finally get pregnant, your stomach becomes his favorite part of you, his hands always resting on it, protecting it. He also makes you dress with clothes that accentuate it and he can never hide his proud grin when you walk into the room, flaunting yourself just for him.

As for him, he knows his ass drives you wild, your numerous compliments have made him quite confident about it. He takes to wearing tight-fitting clothes just for you and works extra hard at the gym to keep it firm.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

When you first started dating, it took him about a week to bring up contraception. He never pressured you into dropping condoms and getting on the pill, but it was clear that all he wanted was to feel you bare.

Now it's against any of his principles to come anywhere but deep inside you. It would be a waste. Art takes immense pleasure in knowing he has filled you completely with his cum, marking you as his. He wants you to keep it inside you all day, fucking the cum back in sometimes when it starts dripping. He knows how much you love his semen. You beg for it. Nothing excites him more than hearing you moan into his ear that you want him to make you babies.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Art is an underwear thief. Initially, it was a secret act he’d perform before going on tour, a way to carry a piece of you with him. The clothes, still imbued with your scent, became a source of comfort for him. He would nuzzle them and picture his face between your legs. You didn't notice at first, but then one day, he returned from tour and you discovered several pairs of your panties in his luggage. "Do you wear my underwear?" You asked playfully as he entered the room, a pair of panties dangling from your index finger. The idea thrilled you, especially when it caused Art to blush and stutter, rushing to snatch the underwear while profusely apologizing. Later, he explained that he sometimes missed you so much that his mind drove him to do these unhinged things. After that, you made a point of packing his bag with a pair of wet panties you had worn while using your vibrator, a little token of your love to keep him company.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He had a few girlfriends before you, and Patrick filled him in on plenty of wild stories with vivid details, so he's not completely clueless. While he might not be the most experienced guy, he's enthusiastic about learning. He's incredibly attentive to your pleasure, always asking what you enjoy and what feels good, so he does know what he’s doing. He understands your body intimately, perhaps better than anyone else.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He needs to see your face to come, so any position where he's facing you is a must. His favorite is when you ride him while he's sitting, face-to-face, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck and his hands resting on your hips. It's the most intimate position for him, allowing him to watch you, kiss you, and feel your chest pressed against his.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

In that intense moment, he is serious and passionate, completely absorbed in being with you. His focus is solely on you, and he can only express how much you mean to him through his words and actions. He’s not really a goofy type of guy anyway.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Art epitomizes the term ‘hairless’. Not a single hair can be found on his body, as he despises the feeling of it. While you strive to keep your body smooth for him, it's never quite as flawless as Art's impeccably bare skin.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Art always goes to great lengths to demonstrate how much you mean to him and that he can't bear the thought of losing you. Your words, moans, and sighs are all he needs to know that you feel the same way about him. The way he undresses you like you’re a precious gift to unwrap or the way he kisses you so slowly, to the careful attention he pays when pleasuring you, and the loving words he speaks, he craves your love and reassurance. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

When it comes to pleasuring himself, at first, he's quite subtle and quiet about it, preferring to do so in private, especially when you're not around. His masturbation session still revolves entirely around you, as he clutches the panties he took from you, stroking himself while thinking about how he would take you, before gradually losing control and thrusting even faster.

When you first caught him masturbating, you had just started dating. He was sound asleep when you left his side in bed, but when you returned from your shower fifteen minutes later, he was lying on his back, his hand moving frantically under the blanket. When you asked him what he was up to, he replied "Nothing...". However, after much teasing, he admitted he was touching himself. You then asked him to show you, and he eventually did. He looked so attractive with his mouth half open and his hand wrapped tightly around his length. After he came, he apologized for being so naughty, while to you, it was one of the hottest things you had ever seen.It had become one of tradition to catch him in the act, eager to recreate that electrifying experience whenever you could. And he willingly helped achieve your fantasy.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Apart from his evident breeding kink and penchant for stealing underwear, Art finds a thrill in being watched. Even if he feigns annoyance at you catching him masturbating, deep down, he revels in it. He deliberately makes a bit of noise when he starts touching himself, knowing you'll soon join him.

Sometimes, he fantasizes about someone else watching the two of you have sex. He desires everyone to witness how exclusively you belong to him, how he's the sole person who can make you scream that way. He wants people to hate him with envy because they want fuck you but can't have you because you've chosen him. How they would have to watch every expression of pleasure you make only for him.

However, he knows this will probably only ever remain a fantasy, unsure of how to bring the topic with you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Art isn’t obsessed with the thought of doing it in every possible place. He prefers comfort. Whether it's the bed or the shower, each has its appeal for him. The bed offers convenience, allowing him to focus solely on the pleasure of being with you. On the other hand, the shower appeals to him for its cleanliness and the intimate closeness it provides.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

It doesn’t take much to stir his desire : a lingering touch on his thigh, a lustful gaze into his eyes, and he is ready to go. You never have to ask, he always knows, driven by a desire for you that matches, if not surpasses, your own. He knows he can have you any time, yet, he enjoys imagining you as his reward after a hard-fought tennis match. The thought alone motivates him to work for it extra hard.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything he perceives as potentially dangerous for you turns him off, as the thought of causing you harm deeply disturbs him. He is against anything that avoids body fluids other than his cum or yours, he just enjoys it when things are clean.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He's a master at going down on you. Art cherishes you deeply and is driven to treat you properly, like you deserve to be. Your pleasure is his top priority, and he devotes himself to savoring every moment of your intoxicating taste. Your pussy is the most delicious meal to him. His skilled tongue ensures your satisfaction, always checking in to make sure you're enjoying every sensation. He savors every single inch of your cunt and every single drop of your juices and you always come in no time.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Art enjoys being slow and sensual, taking his time with you as if every time were your first. Often, you’re the one to start thrusting your hips faster, urging him to take you harder. He usually begins with a slow, yet forceful thrust, relishing the sight of your expression transforming with bliss as he pounds into you. Of course, there are moments when his desire is so intense that he can't wait, needing to slide in and take you right then and there, with rushed violent thrusts.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He isn't the biggest fan of quickies, preferring to take his time to show you how deeply he feels for you. However, when your teasing becomes too much or the tension between you builds to an unbearable peak, that's when he shoves you against a wall and slams himself inside you, releasing his frustrations in a completely different way.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’s willing to try new things if you’re into it and as long as it’s nothing too harmful or degrading to you. If he thinks the thing you’re asking is a bit too extreme, he will need a little more convincing.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He is an athlete so he can last for quite a while, hours actually. But since he enjoys making love, with slow sensual thrusts, declarations of love and cuddling, he probably could only last two rounds because there isn't enough time in a day. His stamina always endures until you are completely spent by the end of it.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

You were the one who introduced toys into your relationship, and while Art finds it exciting and loves watching you enjoy yourself, he can’t help but feel a bit jealous of them sometimes, especially when you use them without him. 

Although he doesn’t use the toys on himself, he does enjoy it when you press your vibrating wand against the head of his cock.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Initially, he wasn’t much into teasing. You were the one always teasing him and he would be a whiny baby in return. But as you spent more time together, he began to see the fun in it. He now loves making you blush with inappropriate words of praise in public.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Though Art is generally quiet in his everyday life, he's the loudest man you've ever had in your bed. Grunts, groans, whines, and whispered words to you, it’s impossible for him to stay silent. When you both find yourselves having sex in an unexpected place and need to be quiet, he does his best to muffle his sounds, releasing strained breaths instead.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He takes great pleasure in marking you with hickeys, proudly declaring to everyone that you belong to him. You often complain to him about the difficulty of covering them up, but he just grins from ear to ear. When the hickeys finally begin to fade, he eagerly sucks on your neck again. Yet, as the marks become insufficient to deter unwanted attention, he decides it's time to make a more permanent commitment. Despite putting a ring on your finger, it doesn't stop other men from hitting on you, leading him to beg you to start a family with him. For him, nothing would proclaim your belonging more than carrying his child.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Art is not excessively large or thick. Instead, he's proportionate to his height. The head of his cock is so pink, it’s fascinating, you love it. His perky nipples actually sport the same color.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

You feel that your sex life with him has become fairly normal. It’s not as passionate as it was in the beginning when you were both still discovering each other and experimenting. You know how to make each other come now. Whenever possible, you make love every night, almost as a routine. Most of the time, it's gentle, sleepy sex before bed. However, there are moments when Art's mood shifts, and he becomes insatiable. After being alone for so long during tours, he finds himself yearning for you more often than not, eager to demonstrate his love and devotion to you. When he’s not in tournaments, he tends to get a higher sex drive because his body’s lack of energy is not withholding him anymore. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Scared of the possibility of losing you or seeing you walk away, he finds himself unable to sleep, staying awake as long as possible just to ensure you're deeply asleep beside him, safely nestled in his arms before he falls asleep himself. Sometimes it’s really hard to keep his eyes open.

[larluce]

Arthur confinment in his royal chambers! WHAT happened!

HA, HA! Well in my fic "From the Grave to the Cradle" Arthur grow up in Ealdor with Merlin and is raised by a farmer old couple. The confinment happens after Uther discovers Arthur is The Lost Prince, ergo his lost son. Arthur refuses to accept Uther is his father for all the horribles things Uther has done and wants to escape, so Uther locks him up in his chambers cause what a better way to reconect with your lost son? :D . Arthur is also freaking out cause they took Merlin for interrogation and hasn't been able to see him since he's been locked up, so, after his attempts to fight the guards and escape through the window didn't work out, he goes on a hunger strike and refuses to eat anything until they let him see Merlin.

Having that context. Here my little snippet of the fic:

Arthur's confinement in his Royal Chambers

Merlin: (enters Arthur's chambers with a tray of food)

Arthur: Merlin! (runs to him and starts checking him)

Merlin: Careful! Don't drop the food.

Arthur: (his hands end up in the curves between Merlin's neck and shoulders) Are you okay? They didn't do anything to you?

Merlin: (he shakes his head and smiles reassuringly) They just asked me a few questions. There were some threats, but they didn't touch me, I promise.

Arthur sighs in relief. Although they told him they would only interrogate his friend, he could not trust the word of a king who is known for torturing his prisoners until he gets the confession he wants.

Merlin brakes away from his friend's grasp to place the tray on the table... but he found it lying on the floor, as well as the chair and everything else. "They didn't exaggerate when they say he destroyed the entire room," he thinks. Everything breakable was broken. The wood of the furniture must be of very good quality if the chair and table were still intact. A flash of gold of his eyes and the table and the chair are upright again. Happy, he places the food on the table.

Arthur: (angry and scared) Merlin!

Merlin: What? There's nobody here. And I had my hands full, how was I going to move it?

Arthur: You could have asked me to move it for you!

Merlin: Oh... I... I didn't think about it. Sorry.

"You're not supposed to do it, you're the prince" is what he really meant to say, but he kept it to himself. He has the impression his friend won't receive those words well. Furthermore, he has to learn to turn off his servant mode if even his magic was willing to serve Arthur without a question.

He looks at Arthur, he is still very shaken and Merlin knows it isn't just due to his ill-timed display of magic. He sighs, Arthur doesn't need a servant now, he needs his friend.

Merlin: Sit, you look like you're going to faint (guides him to the chair) How are you?

Arthur: How am I? I just discovered I'm the son of a genocidal tyrant! I'm supposed to be the prince, but no one listens to me in this castle and I'm locked in my own "chambers" which is bigger than my house in Ealdor! Ealdor who is still waiting for our food supplies! Ealdor that is where we should be!

Merlin: Arthur…

Arthur: (sad) I just want to go home.

Merlin: (sits on the table, infront of Arthur) I would give anything to get you out of here. It's not fair that they force you to have a life you don't want. But we have to be realistic, even if we managed to escape and return to Ealdor, that is where they would look for us first. It would be of no use. And if Camelot soldiers are seen in Essetir we could cause a war.

Arthur: We can run away somewhere else! To another kingdom, a forest, an island, anywhere! Anywhere but here.

Merlin: We could never settle down, we would always live on the run and in fear. And Uther will always look for someone to blame. We are talking about the same king who started a purge against all the sorcerers in the world because a sorceress killed his wife! What do you think he'll do if he thinks his son was kidnapped again?

Arthur: No one is kidnapping me!

Merlin: But he's not going to see it that way! Don't you get it? If he doesn't find villains he invents them! Just a moment ago... (stops himself)

Arthur: A moment ago, what?

Merlin: A moment ago I was almost accused of being an accomplice to the person who stole you as a baby.

More specifically by Gaius and he had to figure out how to pose as another victim of the "evil sorcerer", but Arthur didn't have to know all the details.

Arthur: (in full panic) WHAT?!

Merlin: I know, ridiculous right? Luckily I was able to make them understand that you are two years older than me and, as incredible as it may seem, one cannot collaborate in the kidnapping of a newborn baby if this person hasn't, you know, been born.

Arthur calms down and sighs, as defeat overcomes him. Merlin is right, they could never truly be free. They were screwed. He was starting to get depressed again, when he sees his friend picking at his food. That wasn't unusual, in Ealdor they shared food all the time. The strange thing was that Merlin is making a pause before moving on to the next meal. Like doing a countdown in his head.

Arthur:  What are you doing?

Merlin: Checking that the food is not poisoned, my lord. It would be a disgrace if you were killed in your first day as a Prince. (Does another mental countdown)... 3... 2...1... Yup, I'm still alive. You can eat.

Arthur: Merlin.

Merlin: Do you want me to cut your royal meat for your royal person? We don't want your delicate royal hands to make such mundane physical exertion only worthy of commoners.

Arthur: Merlin.

Merlin: Or would Your Royal Highness prefer that I also feed you in your mouth?

Arthur: I got it, I got it! (he tries to look annoyed, but despite himself he laughs) I'll eat.

They both eat in comfortable silence.

Merlin: I don't know what's going to happen from now on, but I promise I won't leave you alone. We will face whatever comes together. (he takes Arthur's hand comfortingly) So please don't get into fights with guards... or break things... or jump out of windows.

Arthur: I didn't jump out of any windows!

Merlin: (points at the blocked window in the room with his head)

Arthur: (blushes) I wasn't trying to jump. I was going to use a rope to climb down and escape.

Merlin: A rope?

Merlin looks around and sees the bed sheets lying on the floor tied together.

Merlin: That would have broken as soon as you used it.

Arthur: (offended) Are you calling me fat?

Merlin: No, but those sheets are silk. A very expensive, delicate and, therefore, breakable material. You were saved from a very certain and humiliating death.

Arthur: Oh... (blushes more)

Merlin laughs, which makes Arthur smile. At least he still has Merlin.

Arthur: I don't know who stole me, kidnapped me or whatever, but I'm glad they did it.

Merlin: (surprised) Really?

Arthur: Yes! Can you imagine me growning up with that man as a father? He would have turned me into a tyrant and a murderer like him, a heartless monster.

Merlin: (shouts) That's not true! (notices his outburst and composes himself) I mean... I'm sure you would have been a very noble and kind prince, and a great king eventually despite having such a horrible father.

Arthur: How are you so sure of that?

Merlin: (thinking) I know. I saw it.

Merlin: Because you have a big heart. (He puts a hand on his chest) Full of love and compassion for the people around you. That's something you're born with. (His hand moves to Arthur's shoulder) Not everything is determined by upbringing, nor is everything determined by blood. You and Uther share the same blood and look how different you are from him! If you had grown up here as a prince, you wouldn't be much different. Arrogant, perhaps, much more than you already are. Just as stupid, yes, definitely…

Arthur: Hey!

Merlin: But in essence you would still be the Arthur I know.

Merlin: (thinking) You're still my Arthur. The Arthur I fell in love with.

Arthur: Maybe… (caresses the hand Merlin put on his shoulder) but it would still be a very miserable life.

Merlin: Why?

Arthur: Because I would have never met you.

"No, in all lives we are destined to meet" Merlin thinks, but the words are said with so much feeling and Arthur looks at him with such intensity that he is left breathless, lost in his eyes. Merlin is more aware of the hand on his, giving light caresses with his thumb. Merlin doesn't know when he leaned so close to Arthur, or did Arthur get closer? But suddenly the distance between his faces is reduced considerably.

Merlin: Arthur…

Merlin has no idea what he was going to say, nor will he know. Suddenly, the doors to the chambers open wide again, causing both of them to immediately pull away, embarrassed. Merlin gets off the table and stands to the side in a servant's pose.

Guard: (bows to Arthur) Your highness. I hope you enjoyed your meal. (Looks meaningfully at Merlin)

"Did he eat everything?" the guard's eyes asks him. Merlin nods his head slightly in response, "Yes, he didn't leave a single bite." Well, he ate a little of that too, but details.

Arthur: It was... not so bad.

While Arthur is still embarrased about almost being found in a compromising situation, he notices the exchange between the guard and his friend, puzzled. Everyone already knows the farce, why does Merlin keep pretending to be a servant? Or were they forcing him to act like this now that he is the prince?

Guard: (to Merlin) You did a good job, boy, you can leave.

Merlin nods again and is about to leave when a hand grabs his arm tightly.

Arthur: (sharply) No.

Merlin: Arthur…

Arthur: He can sleep here. The room is big enough for both of us.

Merlin: Arthur, that's not right.

Arrhur: I don't give a damn what's right or wrong! I'm not going to let them take you away from me again!

Merlin would be very touched by his friend's concern, if it weren't for the fact that the guard seems to have every intention of pulling them apart by force if necessary and that would only make things worse, because then there would be another fight, they would bring in reinforcements and there will be chaos.

He turns to face Arthur and gives him a reassuring smile.

Merlin: They're not taking me away. I'll be back in the morning. Someone has to make you eat your breakfast (meaningful look at the guard) Isn't that right?

Guard: Of course, the boy will be here as soon as you get up, sire.

Arthur wants to retort, but Merlin begs him with his eyes not to. "Don't fight with guards," he remembers Merlin told him.

Arthur: (sighs resigned, but calmer) Alright. But it better be that way, I'm not going to receive food from anyone else, understand?

Guard: Yes, sire.

Arthur: And also give him food and a bed to sleep in. He is not a prisoner or a servant in this castle. He is a guest, treat him as such. If I discover you have done him any harm, I myself will harm you back a thousand times worse.

Guard: The boy will be treated with the respect he deserves, sire. No harm will befall him.

Merlin noted the trick by saying "he will be treated with the respect he deserves" to avoid the explanation of "We cannot treat a peasant as a guest, but we will give him the best treatment accordingly." Very clever, Merlin thought.

Arthur: And Frank?

Guard: Yes, sire?

Arthur: Please stop calling me "sire". You make me feel old.

Guard: Yes, sir-your highness.

Merlin and Arthur give each other a heartfelt hug as farewell. Then, Merlin picks up the tray and leaves the room. They stare at each other until the door is closed between them and the guards lock the doors again.

[alicerosejensen]

Zombie Movie

Warning: Dad! Leon; difficult relationship between father and daughter.

I have a cool request there in messages with Leon's son or daughter and I will try to answer it, but for now, again, Leon's dad and his teenage daughter

Part 2

To say that Leon loved his daughter would be an understatement. He literally adored her. This thirteen-year-old girl occupied his whole heart and Leon truly hated being away from his family. He still remembers how he first picked up this rosy-cheeked bundle of joy, which was so small and fragile that Leon was afraid to drop it or accidentally hurt it.

You always remembered with tenderness how he cooed with her, quickly getting used to how to properly hold the baby in your arms. He walked around the house with her and constantly told something, and how his pumpkin babbled with him.

Whereas everyone said that you became a mother too early, and Leon, on the contrary, considered himself already old to start a family, but this child ... You literally saw hope in his eyes when you told him about your pregnancy and he looked at you with fear, waiting decide whether you want to keep the child. And although he was scared, but above all, he is grateful to you, promising that he will do everything possible and impossible for the happiness of his family.

So when your baby was born, Leon spent all his free time when he was at home. Sometimes he even woke up in the middle of the night after another nightmare and silently approached the crib just looked at his girl, running his finger along her cheek.

You thought Leon was a good father. Of course, he sometimes drank if the mission was not entirely successful, but he rarely got drunk to the point of unconsciousness, believing that he had no right to it and saying that he did not want his daughter to see her father drunk. Leon always made his family a priority, but his work took up a lot of his time. Therefore, often at various holidays and events, Leon was simply absent. And while your girl was little, it was easier for Leon to make up for his absence. Gifts, games together, Leon even allowed to sit on his motorcycle, promising that as soon as she was a little older he would allow her to ride it a little. That was enough for your daughter as a child, but the more she grew up, the more acutely she felt the absence of her father.

The first time this was expressed by the fact that in kindergarten, while fulfilling the task of the teacher to draw her family, your daughter drew only you and herself holding her hand. An ordinary children's drawing, but when you asked her where dad was, she carelessly shaking her legs, sitting on a chair, she simply shrugged her shoulders.

"Dad at work"

You just pursed your lips but took your daughter by the hand, took the drawing and sincerely hoped that Leon would not ask anything, and although he noticed the drawing on the refrigerator door, he really did not say anything.

It was the first red flag, and now... take a deep breath. Your daughter obeys you without any scandals and always asks permission, but only from you. Not with Leon.

Transition is a tricky thing, and although D/N was mostly a calm child, this calmness did not extend to Leon. Teenage hormones seemed to be playing out in full, and D/N became a different kid.

"Can you put your phone away while you're at the table?" Leon asked his daughter in a calm tone, but D/N only gave him a displeased look and returned to correspondence with friends, ignoring the request.

Leon took a deep breath, looking back at you as you put the dinner on plates in kitchen. Her blond hair fell into her eyes as she continued to correspond with someone with a sly smile.

“Mommy, will you take Carmen and me to the cafe after the movie tomorrow?" You glanced at her as she reached out to retrieve her plate of pasta and immediately looked over to Leon as D/N waited for your response. After all, your husband hasn't been called anywhere yet, and you've had too much to do.

"Pumpkin, I'm too busy with work tomorrow, but dad can do it" Leon looked at you with gratitude as if you had just saved his life, but D/N did not seem pleased with this prospect, which is why she silently grabbed her fork immediately upset.

"No need." She grunted under her breath as she typed a message on her new phone. "Then we'll get there ourselves"

Leon swallowed all the words turning away and you yourself did not know how to save the situation. The family dinner took place in some tense atmosphere, never like when D/N was little and sat in a special high chair next to her dad, waiting for him to cut her sausages into small pieces. Leon was silent. You lightly kicked your husband under the table, nodding cautiously in the direction of your daughter. "Talk to her," a mute command causes Leon to put down his cutlery and turn to his daughter.

"What movie do you want to see?" Leon stares into his daughter's face, but she seems more engrossed in her phone. "D/N please put your phone down when someone is talking to you."

"You don't like that," she said, but didn't listen to her father. Instead, the fingers continued to quickly run across the screen, making an annoying vibrating sound.

You wondered if you should intervene and ask D/N to put away her cell phone, because when Leon was not at home, she never took it out when she ate with you. There was a feeling that she was deliberately provoking a scandal, testing Leon's patience for strength. He had it, of course, in excess abundance, but now it was becoming less and less.

"Try it." Leon managed a smile as he moved closer."What movie?"

You noticed the interested twinkle in your daughter's eye as she looked at her father. She must have clicked something on her phone as Leon turned his head to look at what she was showing him.

"Tall Oaks" Leon's face instantly changed. "The city was like that. Until it was blown up."

You look at your husband's pale face, literally feeling like the past is covering him with his head. Without a word, he moves away from his daughter, running his eyes over the table. But only you know that Leon needs a drink right now.

"Zombie movie" D/N happily held out and if she knew what her father was constantly fighting with, it would be like a mockery. "I wonder if the main character will be gutted?"

Leon's reaction was immediate. He knocked over the chair with a jerk, causing you and D/N to jump in fright. Unfortunately, due to his work at home, Leon sometimes had triggers due to certain things that made him sick. D/N did not understand what had just happened and looked at you in fear, looking for protection and safety.

"Since when the fuck are you letting her watch this shit?!" Leon snarled at you as he walked into the kitchen rattling cabinets in an attempt to find a bottle of whiskey. Your daughter ran up to you, clearly not understanding why you are acting so calmly.You told her to come up to the room and finish dinner a little later, but she literally clutched your arm, flinching when her father broke one of the glasses.

Innocent modern children's hobbies. Zombies, shooters, vampires, werewolves. Girls aren't all that pampered these days, and D/N was one of those who liked that kind of stuff. You didn't mind that she didn't watch anything that could harm her psyche, but for Leon, things like zombies were always a painful topic that no one ever brought up in the house. He probably still thought that his little girl likes beautiful elves and pegasi.

"She's not going anywhere tomorrow," he snapped rudely, talking to you in one gulp as he finished his glass of whiskey. “I fight this shit every day, not so she can watch people eat each other.”

"Leon..." your voice interrupted his angry tirade. you just had to explain to him that this is a children's film.

"Why the hell are you letting her watch this?!" Such simple things seemed to anger him in a matter of seconds. You thought it's good that your daughter's game console is in her room and not in the living room, because she has recently become addicted to such games.

Leon yelled at his daughter to go to her room and you had to tell her more gently so that she really left. However, D/N stood still, clutching your arm and staring intently into her father's face. He looked embittered and annoyed, but after a second his eyes widened in surprise and his heart dropped down after missing a couple of beats.

"It would be better if only my mom and I were left, and you never existed!"

You swallowed all the words when you heard this. She never said that and you would not think that she had the courage to do so. Leon still held the empty glass in his hand, just as discouraged and filled with bitterness. But what was said wasn't true, you knew it. D/N loved her father, it's just because of Leon's work that she chose a different tactic to draw attention to herself and this resulted in similar scandals.

Everything is quiet. Leon turned his back, lowering his head, and you repeated the order and again sent your daughter to her room. While she was running up the stairs, you approached your husband, taking his glass from his hands, placing it on the cabinet and hugging him from the back, laying your head on his shoulder. You could hear his single loud sob. Turning to him with your palms you wiped the tears from Leon's cheeks when he in the next moment hugged you buried in your neck, arms tightly clasped around your waist.

"Honey, she..." You sighed as you patted his head. "She doesn't really think so. I will talk to her"

Leon just shook his head.

"I was hoping that I could be a good father to her, but I screwed up and my own daughter hates me."

"NO! No no no. Leon, she doesn't hate you! Look, kids like zombies, monsters these days..." Leon pulled away from you as he returned to his glass pouring another shot of whiskey.

"Since when does anyone like this shit?! And why the hell are little girls allowed into horror movies?!"

He saw your absent-minded smile as you pulled out a colored flyer from the table and handed it to Leon. He took it in his hands and his eyebrow flew up in bewilderment.

"The movie is rated childish. There's more love snot than zombies," you smiled as Leon flipped the paper over to read the synopsis. "Doesn't matter." he growled as he took a long sip from his glass. "She's too small for that. I don't want her to watch people eat each other even if it's just one scene."

“No one eats or guts anyone there, Leon!” you gently stroked his back as he throws out a flyer "There zombies only flicker in the background and their extras play. Nobody forces you to watch a movie with girls. Just take them to the cinema then to a cafe and that's it!"

Leon shook his head but said nothing. Biting your lip, you patiently waited for an answer, arguing that if he forbade going to the cinema with a friend, then their relationship would continue to deteriorate.

"Better yet, go out with her yourself. Spend time with your daughter like you did when she was younger. She needs your attention."

"I know!" he shouted with a thud as he put the glass down on the table. "I'm trying... I'm trying to be a good father. I just want to protect her from this."

"Zombies won't come out of the TV if that's what you mean." Leon chuckled at your words. Soft strokes made his calm down a little and start to put her thoughts in order. "Go up to her and comfort her yourself. And tell her you're taking them to the movies tomorrow."

Leon swallowed but returned to you. Enclosing you in his arms inside him, he breathed in the scent of your hair as he gently rocked you from side to side. Grateful to have you, Leon looked up with a heavy sigh. He really shouldn't have reacted to the movie like that. After kissing you, you broke off your embrace to clear the leftover dinner and broken glass from the table, while your husband slowly made his way to the D/N room to try to make amends.

He really has a lot to fix.

[666writingcafe]

Mammon's Greatest Fear

Author's Note: First of all, I'd like to apologize for not writing this sooner. Work and life in general has taken up a lot of my energy, and I want to make sure I'm delivering the quality you all are used to seeing from me.

Secondly, I wanted to flesh out the reason why MC goes on these mind trips with the NB!Demon brothers, because canonically it's a bit vague (in my opinion, anyway). Basically, I'm taking the original boogeyman scene in OG!Obey Me and adding more substance to it.

MC

I wake up in a brightly lit forest, confused as to how I've arrived here. The last thing I remember was...

Lunging at Lucifer.

Shit.

I'm sure he'll make me pay for it when I see him again.

If I see him again.

I have to figure out how to get out of here before I can even think about visiting Lucifer.

"Oh good! You're here!" My eyes soon meet those of a rather familiar-looking Little D.

"Number 2?" I ask, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.

"The very same!" the yellow Little D exclaims. "Mister Barbatos wasn't sure that this would work, so he'll be glad to hear that everything's going according to plan!"

"You'll have to forgive me, but I have no idea what's going on." Number Two clasps his hands together.

"That's right; you were in lala land when the discussion happened."

"Forcibly, but yes."

"So, here's the short and sweet version: Mister Barbatos believes that Mammon's fear is makin' his sin go into hyper-overdrive, and since it seems to be affecting you as well, he's havin' me serve as a bridge between the two of you." Number Two closes his eyes as he recounts Barbatos' message, clearly making sure he's saying everything he needs to.

If I recall correctly, while there are lots of Little D's that have spawned as a result of the brothers succumbing to their sin, the original set--Numbers One through Seven--live at the castle.

And if they're the originals, then it's probably safe to assume they have the strongest mental connection to the brothers out of all the Little D's in existence.

Which means...

"We're inside Mammon's mind, aren't we?"

"Ding-ding-ding! Solomon said you'd pick up on it quickly. Now we just need to find Mammon and get him to snap out of it so that everything can return to normal!" Sighing, I get up and stretch. This certainly wasn't on my to-do list today, but if it'll help us quit feeling this way...

Number Two jumps up, forcing me to catch him and carry him in my arms as I begin walking.

"Am I allowed to ask you for some insight into Mammon's psyche, or am I supposed to figure everything out myself?" I ask.

"You know some things already," Number Two answers. "For example, this place should be very familiar to you." Taking a better look at my surroundings proves the Little D. correct.

We're traversing through part of the Celestial Realm's forest.

And just like that, everything clicks into place.

I ran. I don’t know for how long, but eventually I wound up deep in the woods, my lungs about to burst. I nearly collapsed against one of the trees as I began sobbing. I didn’t know what else to do.

If Lucifer didn't find him, Mammon would most likely still be in the woods, lamenting the loss of everything.

As it is, those few moments are some of the lowest points in his life. Not knowing if you belonged anywhere or if anyone gave a damn about your well-being...

I suddenly bump into something solid, nearly dropping Number Two. When I regain composure, however, nothing appears to be blocking my way.

"One of his walls," Number Two casually comments. "He must be close." Sure enough, just a few feet away sits Mammon at the base of a tree, sobbing his eyes out as dark wisps of smoke encircle him. The longer they swirl around him, the more upset he becomes.

"He can't see or hear anything past the barrier." Number Two's voice has become a lot deeper. "Unless you break it, there's nothing you can do to save him." His eyes darken, quickly matching the wisps of smoke. The next words to leave his mouth aren't his own.

Go crawl in a hole and die.

That's the first thing I heard Levi tell Mammon all those years ago at the start of the exchange program. As Number Two continues talking, it quickly becomes apparent that he's become a mouthpiece for the wisps of smoke, who are repeating every nasty thing that has been said to and about him.

Do I believe that he allows his sin to control his actions more often than he should? Yes. Does he come across as a self-absorbed douche-bag most of the time? Again, yes.

If I didn’t act this way, then people wouldn’t take me seriously. They’d abandon me.

It's a vicious cycle that I had to help Mammon slowly break in my timeline, but the wounds he's developed from it are still fresh here, making the cycle's grip that much stronger on him.

There has to be a way to get past this barrier. Tapping for weak points doesn't work. Must have some pretty strong magic keeping it together.

But is it stronger than mine?

Only one way to find out.

"Number Two, I don't know if you can hear me, but if you're able to choose what to repeat, find the most vile statements and hit me with them. If my voice is saying any of them, all the better."

My power is heavily tied to my emotions. The quickest way to tap into its full potential is to rile me up and make me lash out. Solomon and Asmo exploited this side of my magic once, but now I get to use it for my own benefit.

Hopefully.

Because otherwise, I have no idea how to get Mammon out of here.

~~~

I find myself flying upright, struggling to catch my breath. A sudden dizzy spell threatens to have me fall right back down again.

"Steady." A hand latches onto my arm, preventing me from tumbling off the bed.

"Open." I follow the voice's command, a warm liquid soon hitting the back of my throat. Tastes slightly better than cough syrup, but I can't complain too much, as it quickly helps me feel less disoriented.

"Better?" I nod my head. Glancing over to my right reveals Mammon in a similar position to mine.

"Did it work?" I ask, my voice sounding incredibly croaky.

"Hell yeah, it did!" Number Two excitedly pipes up. "You shattered that barrier into a million pieces! It was awesome!"

"So, Mammon's okay now?"

"He wouldn't have been able to wake up if he wasn't," Barbatos answers. He must have gave me the potion that kept me from fainting just now. "And neither would you. Still, I recommend that both of you take it easy for a couple of days to ensure a full recovery from the mind trip you went on."

"I'm sure it won't be the last one I go on." Barbatos wearily smiles.

"Don't worry about that right now. Focus on resting."

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr, @tenkobitch, @budbuddnbuddy

[oh-saints]

Alphabet nfsw Rúben dias

you ask nicely and therefore you shall receive, dearest <3

please dni if you're not 18 yet! i really wouldn't if i were you bcs even i felt so hot as i wrote this lololol

(request is still open & you can drop them here)

A for after care

while rúben is such a sweet and caring boyfriend off the sheets, he’s insanely a beast on the sheet so it doesn’t come off a surprise to you that he leaves behind the cum he shot into you to dry. in his opinion, nothing’s sexier than waking up to that sight.

B for body part

rúben loves his hands and probably envies the organ because they can reach places where his tongue and nose and lips cannot. he loves to see and ignites a lot of your body reactions from his touches—your squirms, your arches, your shivers—so it comes naturally for him to love every inch of your body. although if he has to pick, he’s definitely a boob person.

C for cum

as exhibited under point A above, nothing is sweeter than the sensation of him being engulfed by your insides like a lover’s hug after a long seperation, therefore his favourite place to shoot his cum is inside of you.

D for dirty secret

you always wear something that’s easy for his hands to do as he pleases with you—open back dresses, skirts with slits, no bra, thongs…—and it pleases rúben to no end knowing you’re always ready for him.

E for experience

you’d like to think rúben is much more experienced than you but it turns out he only knows as far as things he like to do. it’s kind of a knowledge sharing between you two sometimes.

F for favourite position

while missionary cannot be replaced whatsoever for how much he loves to see your most honest expressions, he cannot eliminate some other risqué positions either. no, not the doggy style kind of thing but more like standing or when he carries you off from one place to another because he can slide into you much more easier and deeper that way.

G for goofy (e.g. are they always serious in bedroom or are they not?)

between the two of you, you’re much more relaxed in terms of personality. so most of the time, it’s more like a session where he shuts your mouth to get on with it.

H for hair

do we need to go through this? like, have you seen him with his shirt off? he definitely takes a good care of himself, which includes leaving his happy trail unshaved because you like it so much every time he lifts of his shirt.

I for intimacy

he takes things seriously, sex is no exception. he thinks the sensual activity is actually important because it’s the only one that can bring you two closest without space in between you. and sex with rúben is heaven on earth for you because he always takes a good care of you, like he always does off the sheet.

J for jack-off

he’s not a big fan of doing his own work because you ruined his perspective of hand and blow jobs for him. damn it.

K for kink

he’s silently into breath play but never pulling off more than slight pressure into your neck. he’s not a sadist to begin with, but you’re not complaining because it’s always so hot to hear the words he breathes onto your ears while he’s holding you still by the neck.

L for location

depends on the mood, to be honest. if either of you is aiming for comfort zone, then it’s definitely your room or the big, plushy sofa in the living room. but if it’s the otherwise, then it can be anywhere that’s stable enough to hold both of you—I mean, look at the (literal) size of that guy. the kitchen island’s lucky they’re made of marbles.

though, deep down, rúben holds a soft spot to the floor-length window of your vanity.

M for motivation

when his girlfriend looks like you, rúben doesn’t need to find a motivation to initiate sex. but there’s always something about you lifting your shirt off your head as you walk into your closet…

N for no (as in what turn him off or something he’d most likely reject)

anything that makes your uncomfortable, period.

that, and anything that requires him to show you off to people while doing sex.

O for oral

while you taste absolutely divine, he prefers to receiving heads from you because he loves seeing the glint in your eyes as you feel powerful going down on him. as a bonus, he likes to hear your grunts and see your determination as you try to fit all of him inside your mouth, wanting to please him like a good girl you are.

P for pace

despite claiming he’s not a sadistic earlier, he loves torturing you by going in and out of you super slow, taking in the sight of your pussy swallowing his girth good and feeling his bulge on your lower stomach underneath his palms, while he sees you losing your sanity bits by bits.

Q for quickie

it’s not often rúben loses his head but there was one occurrence where he came with you for your bridesmaid fitting and you looked so good in that dress that it drove him wild. because he certainly couldn’t rip the dress out of you this second, he chose to fuck you wordlessly in the VIP fitting room like there wasn’t any staffs waiting beyond the curtain. you’d never come so fast in your life that day.

R for risk

living up to his reputation of man of routine, it’s mostly you that hints or coaxes him to try somethings with you. who is he to say no anyway, as long as it’s not something that crosses his line?

S for stamina

do not ask about this thing to a man who runs back and forth on a pitch for a full 90-minute. you even have to hire your own professional trainer to keep up with his energy, or else you’d only last for an hour before passing out without giving back pleasures to rúben.

T for toys

your bunny vibrator was actually your only best friend, until you met rúben. but being a good boyfriend, he likes to indulge your friends, always, and that includes the rubber bunny. you’re certainly not complaining when it makes your orgasm intensifies from both the sensation of rúben’s balls slamming against your skin and the vibrating machine combined.

U for unfair (e.g. how much they like to tease?)

going this far, it’s pretty safe for us to conclude that he loves to tease you endlessly. if not, he wouldn’t have kept the happy trail unshaven or asked you to leave your underwear behind during one christmas dinner with his family. and once in a while, you’d love him to get a taste of his own medicine because you know that a sexually frustrated rúben dias is the best side of rúben you can ask for.

V for volume

his voice is naturally deep so whenever he grunts dirty words while you sink down on him, the vibration reaches your clit and brings you closer to the edge faster than you’d like. but he’s more on the silent type because he likes to hear your moans and whines and gasps.

W for wild card (a random headcanon)

rúben’s most memorable moment of you two having sex was that one summer night on your vacation, both of your heads dizzy from the fizz drunk but enough to push rúben to—at first—tease you by peeling off the black sundress you were wearing, the pads of his fingers kissing your skin as light as his lips peppering down kisses on the trail of his fingers. your broken gasps fuelled his adrenaline more as he caressed your clit with a hand, while the other slithering upwards to the direction of your neck. your hot breaths steamed off against the mirror in front of you as you felt his large hands going from your belly button, to your ribs, to the middle of your ample breasts, until they settled well on your collarbone. you could feel your right boob folded nicely but carnally in the inside of your elbow, and you had never experienced something so sexily raw.

X for xray

I’m sure even we all recognise the size of his delicious cock ghosting over his pants on several of his steamy photoshoots. yes, we’re talking about the nike underwear one.

Y for yearning (i.e. how high is their sex drive?)

not that high, compared to normal people. once or twice in a month due to your busy schedules, but it’s always worth the mornings you’re being reprimanded by your boss.

Z for zzz (i.e. how quickly they’ll fall asleep afterwards)

going back to the exhibition under point A, rúben isn’t one to fall asleep fast because it’s always a cuddle session after a damn good sex for you both. but between the two of you, of course you fall asleep faster (cue point S) and when he’s in the mood, he stays awake longer so he can wipe off all the dirt of your body so you can sleep comfortably.

[xornasharama]

Enjoy my animation :D I spent a month and a bit working on it, and I haven't even finished all the character designs yet (see the one without a face). I'll probably go back and edit once the character is done, but until then she's faceless. Future plans for this is to fully render it, instead of leaving them all as outlines, but that'll be after a break (I've been animating nonstop so far). I'll put that on youtube probably

This has been really fun to make, and I've learned a lot by doing it. For example, I had no idea how backgrounds worked before this. Now I've done 1, 2, and 3 point perspectives, and can do them again if needed.

Gonna infodump a bit about my characters below cause I haven't shared anything anywhere yet. Some context for the animation and stuff. Explanation of use/interpretation of lyrics is below there (four paragraphs down)

So, first character to appear is Nadia (or Naidhur) Dagher. She's a semiaquatic alien who came to the planet not long ago, yet doesn't remember why or how. She knows she had something important with her, but doesn't remember anything about it. She goes looking for it, and comes across the third person, and after a little time, they team up against the common enemy. The item Nadia is looking for is found in the animation, currently looking like an orb bc I haven't worked out the design yet.

Second to appear is Kryvna. She's a retired immortal (or as retired as you can get) with control over the domains Lost and Found. She got her powers through some not so good decisions centuries ago, along with the rest of a group known as the Guardians. They defended the earth from these creatures who came to earth back when they were mortal, and sealed them in a pocket dimension which is temporarily named the Void. The only thing that lives there are the creatures who only live to devour. You can see them at the end, but they're shapeshifters so the appearance isn't certain.

Anyway, Kryvna (and the guardians) inherited the shapeshifting from them, and thus aren't limited to a single form. Kryvna uses this for crime, keeping a separate identity to her home life to do criminal stuff. She also uses her domains to control and manipulate memories. She can make them Lost at any moment, and choose which ones to make more or less Lost. Any interpretation of Lost or Found can be taken to be another ability. She was the one who found Nadia when she first arrived, erased her memories, and took the item she had brought. As compensation she set Nadia up with language, money, and schooling, and nudged her towards making friends with her child.

Said child is the third to appear. This is Xanthe, the MC. Xanthe is genderfluid, and inherited shapeshifting from Kryvna. They lived a (relatively) normal life until they stumbled across some of Kryvna's suspicious stuff, and went investigating. They moved out, and became roommates with Nadia, and there's some fun secret identity shenanigans before they team up. There's more but not really relevant to the animation.

Lyrical interpretations: This isn't lyrics but I thought the intro music was just right for a sneaking around, trying not to get caught

"Slips you off the needle, drops you into unstitched space" - In the animation, Kryvna pulls Nadia into/away from her mind, the place where thoughts and actions have yet to be decided, and their bodies both go still.

Somewhere between these is a sound that sparkbird mentioned in a clip somewhere, about the "dagger" sound, which I thought was perfect for the start of the cracks

"The wasteland which henceforth shall be referred to as your place" - Should be kinda obvious, Kryvna shatters Nadia's mind/memories, and then leaves her like that. It's a wasteland, the place where mental constructs and memory once stood. And it's now Nadia's.

"The captain lives by the sword" - Kryvna is the captain referred to here. She is a living weapon, in the entire video the only thing she uses is her hands. And she does it all (fairly) calmly. There's power in that.

"The captain loves by the sword" - Kryvna, again, is the captain. On the bottom left is a picture frame. Inside is a photo of Kryvna and Xanthe, plus Kryvna's partner. They're happy, and with it on the desk, it implies that Kryvna does care about them. In contrast, Kryvna real-time is taunting Xanthe, and then getting attacked. She then drops them into the Void. It's not sounding very motherly, but she's convinced that this is how she needs to show her care in this situation. Sometimes love and care doesn't mean what it should. Sometimes people go too far.

"He'll leave you trapped in the cockpit, crying out Mayday!" - Kryvna drops Xanthe into the Void, a pocket dimension. There's one way out, and it's sealed to keep the creatures in. The creatures only live to eat, forever hungry. Xanthe has been dropped into a worse equivalent of a pit full of hungry lions. Behind the scenes, Kryvna knows that one of the guardians is always near/in there, and Xanthe will survive long enough to get out. It's still bad, and is just another showing of her "loves by the sword"

Wooaah this is long. Good job for reading it all if you didn't skip to the end. If you want a challenge, there's a frame or two with a hand missing.

[weatheringfeelingsvn]

Can I request you do a nsfw alphabet for the therapists?

And maybe one for Miguel but separately cause I’m still mad at him

NSFW Below~

SONNIG’s

A = Aftercare: Is probably the one that will need the most aftercare but he will always prioritize you instead; how you view him, what you need. Even as he is experiencing sub drops, he will reassure you that he's fine. You gotta be a lil forceful with him to take care of him.

B = Body part: He will never admit this but he likes his arms. He worked hard for their muscle definition. He will explode if you admire them too. On you, he loves your hands. He thinks they’re pretty and they do magical things to him when you touch him.

C = Cum: It tastes like lemongrass tea :]

D = Dirty Secret: He’ll try anything you’re into, even if he tries to act like he won’t.

E = Experience: He’s only dated twice before, and they were pretty vanilla. Everything he’s doing with you is new to him.

F = Favorite Position: When you ride him or fuck him from above. Giddyup cowgirl/boy/person.

G = Goofy: With flirting and foreplay, it can be a little silly, he wants to start it off light! Once you get really into it though, he normally doesn’t have the concentration to crack a joke. 

H = Hair: He started off casually trimming because he was self conscious about it.… but then he started completely shaving… 

I = Intimacy: He craves it. Any touch you grant him is something that he wants, whether that touch be harsh or soothing, he just wants to be close. 

J = Jack off: Since he’s met you, he feels shame jacking off because you’re what he’s thinking of now. To sort of balance it out in his head, he also does some weird little rituals like ‘If I do this humiliating thing or feel this level of pain, it makes it a little more okay.’

K = Kink: He thinks he’s being lowkey with his submissive masochism kink. He’s not. He yearns to be dommed, degraded, taken care of. To be used.

L = Location: He feels safest in his bedroom with his dog tucked away safely elsewhere. He would die if Zodiac ever walked in on him. He’s not opposed to your teases in public, though. He likes the thrill… but only with you.

M = Motivation: Being completely at your beck and call.

N = No: No scat or excessive bodily harm. 

O = Oral: He’d happily please you. He’s a little experienced but he could always learn to do better.

P = Pace: He’ll follow whatever you’re feeling like that day, if you want to fuck him hard or edge him slowly.

Q = Quickie: You are literally the only person that could convince him of having a quickie outside of his home with just a look. You break down his barriers.

R = Risk: He is putty in your hands, you can screw him up pretty good. Whatever risky behaviors you wanna partake in, he’s gonna excitedly oblige.

S = Stamina: An amazing amount! He can go on for however long you want!

T = Toys: He has a few that he’s bought to experiment with. He’s open to more if that’s what you want.

U = Unfair: Likes to be the one that is teased. Can be edged for a long time if you so choose ;] He will beg the whole time.

V = Volume: He’s very responsive and with enough encouragement, he will allow himself to shed his shame and get loud.

W = Wild Card: He will probably tear up during sex. Whether because you’re doing him softly or sadistically, you will be seeing a lot of him crying.

X = X-ray: He has a toned physique and a long dick. 

Y = Yearning: He’s always down bad to have you mess with him anywhere anytime.

Z = Zzzz: He falls asleep pretty fast while he is wrapped around you. He enjoys being the smaller spoon, despite being so big.

YU:

A = Aftercare: Very used to taking care of his partner. Knows exactly what you need, he has it all prepared, you never have to worry about it.

B = Body part: He’s proud of how adept he is with his hands and tongue. He’s an assman.

C = Cum: It tastes like chamomile tea. :]

D = Dirty Secret: He tried bottoming when he was younger and in a bad time of his life. He refuses to do so again.

E = Experience: He is the most experienced and he’s pretty proud of it.

F = Favorite Position: Doggystyle, usually with your arms tied behind your back going at his preferred pace.

G = Goofy: If you laugh, he’ll punish you. It makes for a great opportunity to be a brat to him.

H = Hair: He likes to trim his hair himself and shapes it. 

I = Intimacy: He can be pretty romantic when he feels that you’ve earned it.

J = Jack off: He doesn’t do it often. He’d usually find a partner before he met you, now you get to be his fleshlight.

K = Kink: VERY into marking and letting other people know that you belong to him without outright stating so. It’s a mind game he’s fond of.

L = Location: He has his own special room for certain activities, but practically anywhere in his house is free reign. Anywhere other than the kitchen because he doesn’t want to have to sanitize the counters… 

M = Motivation: Knowing that he’s the center of your universe when you do it.

N = No: No scat or excessive bodily harm. 

O = Oral: He will eat you out like there’s no tomorrow. He enjoys making you squirm so he’ll take his time.

P = Pace: He’ll keep the pace to whatever the mood feels like. He can do both fast and slow.

Q = Quickie: He’s the king of quickies. He’s pretty good at getting down to business, finishing you up, and cleaning up fast.

R = Risk: He’ll take calculated risks whenever he feels like it.

S = Stamina: He might not have the best stamina but if he doesn’t tire you out, he always finds a way to keep going.

T = Toys: He enjoys including toys and has quite the collection.

U = Unfair: He loves teasing you. He will metaphorically ~~and physically~~ keep yanking at your chain just because he feels like it. If you try to do the same, you’ll get punished (or rewarded depending on how you look at it).

V = Volume: He’s pretty quiet when he’s not taunting or praising you. The most you’ll get out of him are a few grunts and heavy breaths.

W = Wild Card: 

X = X-ray: He’s a pretty average guy but he makes up for it in skill. Short king shit.

Y = Yearning: He has a moderate and controlled libido, but he loves making you flustered so when he sees the chance, he’ll take it.

Z = Zzzz: He’s a night owl. He’ll stay up, but if you want him to, he’ll stay in bed and pet your head until you fall asleep.

A = Aftercare: He’s new to all this, he will need a lot of guidance but he is very eager to fret over you.

Nubloso

B = Body part: He loves your tummy. He just wants to lay on you and hold you close. He honestly really likes his chest. It’s something soft that you can both enjoy!

C = Cum: It tastes like a subtle peppermint tea :]

D = Dirty Secret: If you gave him the chance, he would love to watch you pleasure yourself as both a learning experience to see what you enjoy the most and to just take the chance and focus completely on how you look in the moment. 

E = Experience: He only had experience with his hand before you came along.

F = Favorite Position: Good ol’ fashioned missionary, both for receiving and giving. He loves looking at you and holding you.

G = Goofy: He doesn’t try to be goofy, but he babbles so much during sex that sometimes it just happens 

H = Hair: Full natural. 

I = Intimacy: Inject it into his VEINS, he wants it all!! He’ll spout the corniest shit about how much he adores you and sometimes pause just to look at you with a dopey grin. He’s so in love.

J = Jack off: Quite a lot to be frank. He has a lot of pent up feelings and it’s a good method for self care.

K = Kink: He’s got the biggest breeding kink, he likes the fantasy of creating something new together and starting a family with you. If you’re not comfortable with it, he’ll keep it to himself, he doesn’t want to freak you out. 

L = Location: Here, there, anywhere. Bend you over in the office, lay himself across the couch, kitchens are free reign. Anywhere you are, it has absolutely crossed his mind. 

M = Motivation: Anything can get him started, really. Hearing your voice, being in your vicinity, smelling you, even just looking at you. This is his first time feeling so intensely about a person, he can’t control his reaction.

N = No: No scat or excessive bodily harm. 

O = Oral: You really gotta teach him what to do. He will enjoy learning!

P = Pace: You being his first, he goes pretty hard and fast like a rabbit. He has to learn to take things slow.

Q = Quickie: He’d love to have them as often as he can with you.

R = Risk: He likes controlled risky situations, like doing it in his office after he makes sure the door is locked. He likes the fantasy of showing people that you are his, but he’d actually rather not have anyone eyeing you.

S = Stamina: He’s a noob, he goes until he tires himself out so it can wildly range.

T = Toys: He’s open to them if you like them, but he kinda prefers going without (other than the strap, he loves it if you use it).

U = Unfair: He does his best to tease you to get a reaction out of you. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t, but he won’t give up.

V = Volume: He’s pretty talkative during sex. He does a lot of dirty talking when he gets lost in the moment.

W = Wild Card: 

X = X-ray: He’s got a soft physique with a thick dick.

Y = Yearning: He’s always yearning for you. His sex drive is crazy.

Z = Zzzz: He takes a while to sleep because he enjoys your presence too much. He’ll snuggle you and daydream about you as he feels you falling asleep. 

[audreyscribes]

Hi, I read all your headcanon on ao3 (Brilliant, by the way) and I wanted to know what you thought about a demigod made of clay, but unexpectedly his mothers (yes, mothers in plural) are Nyx and Hestia

Yes, I know it's something very impossible, it's a concept I have for a fanfic and I also have other similar demigods in mind, and a "Scion" as you call them from a somewhat typical origin in what are the Greek myths (later if you want I can spam you with more questions)

I more or less have the concept at the time of his creation, but this question comes more than anything from what the reaction of the others would be, something like the headcanon of "children of x god/goddess" that you did.

Hello! Thanks for your kind words and for dropping by my Ao3 account! I'm glad you liked them! Also pardon for any grammatical answers, I just blitz wrote this and my eyes cannot focus to edit this too properly.

Also like man, I find your idea very cool and fun but also I’m also glad I don’t have to respond of how that can work because I would be chugging cups of tea and looking at the board of how it can work and make sense of it.

But if it’s what the reactions would be, then I can manage that. I’ll give some bullet points that I’ll try to be concise as possible cause *looks at your little boy* yeah, a lot to unpack and digest. 

Side note: I do have submissions open so if you really want to send me more asks that all relate to onw another, it’s better if you drop it down in there. Whether I answer them or not depends on my own schedule and time. 

First of all, how? How?? I mean yes, they did hear that you were basically crafted out of clay like the first humans by the gods, by Nyx and Hestia, but still how?? How were you made? How does it work? How are you still a demigod if you were crafted by Nyx and Hestia? And how many of you are running around? Is it just you? Or are there more? How many other deities have done the same thing? How much of you physically made out of clay and out of ‘flesh’? How much of you is mortal and immortal? Are you like ⅓ mortal? ⅓ of Nyx, and ⅓ of Hestia? ¼ clay, ¼ flesh, ¼ hestia, ¼ Nyx? Etc etc…

Then the next thing is “Why” and “What” because why or/and what compelled Nyx, the primordial and personification of the Night to make a demigod out of clay? If it was that alone, that’s already something but also with Hestia? The goddess of the Hearth? Two polar opposites? Because you light a hearth at night and that illuminates it the darkness of the night, which is like, why and what brought Hestia and Nyx to craft a demigod out of clay of all things? People start thinking is it a romance thing? But with Nyx and Hestia’s disposition, that doesn’t seem likely? Is it out curiosity? Maybe from Nyx but getting Hestia to collaborate? That doesn’t seem likely either and Hestia isn’t one to take deals. People can only think there’s a major looming prophecy that Nyx and Hestia only know about and that scares people.

At camp, people aren’t sure how to approach you and neither does Chiron nor Mr. D for that matter. Cause this whole thing is unprecedented and Mr. D cannot fathom why his aunt would do such a thing and he’s worried because whatever Hestia’s reasons, it’s not going to good and not going to react well with Zeus. 

I dunno if Hestia would be at camp, but if she isn’t for the sake of the story, then people are worried because for the goddess of the Hearth not to be at Camp or anywhere else, has people more nervousness and fearful.

Speaking of Zeus, he’s not going ot be pleased when he hears about this and he and the other Olympians will be scrutinizing you. Because how much of a threat are you going to be towards the gods? Are you on their side? Or are you one of their potential demise? 

For one thing, you were crafted out of clay by Nyx, who is well, was rather opposed to their existence and all that. The only thing that’s keeping you alive or your fate on hold, is that you were also and a part of Hestia, who the gods all love and respect. It won’t help the scrutiny because Hestia is a virgin goddess so while it doesn’t break her vow, it doesn’t seem right that she made a demigod out of clay (which if you follow the logic that Prometheus stole the coals of fire from Hestia’s hearth, but if that’s the case, how did Prometheus steal it from the goddess who always tends to the fire?) Are you proof their sister goddess has turned her back against them? Their loyal and loving family sister? Also why did Hestia, the eldest of them all and mature of them all, work with Nyx to make you? 

Again if Hestia isn’t here to support you, then that’s not going to help the case. 

Back to Camp, they’re not sure where to put you in, because although you may be a demigod, you are technically a child of Hestia and Nyx, which neither which or have a cabin. And while normally, they would put those without a place in the Hermes cabin like protocol, they’re a bit unsure because well, yeah. 

People are going to wonder how your powers and abilities work. Like what does it entail and do you just have two aspects or do they cancel each other? Or is there a fusion of both Hestia and Nyx’s aspects and domain that you wield? 

In general, there’s going to be a whoooole lot of confusion, shock, wonder, and fear basically.

[shinxeysartgallery]

How we feeling now that murder drones is ending?

I think it's so unfair that glitch is cancelling murder drones cause tadc is much more profitable like damn I thought they were better than this

To be fair, we never explicitly had a Season 2 confirmed and I don't think it's fair to blame TADC over it getting cancelled. From what I can tell, it seems like GLITCH and Liam both planned on there being a Season 2 at some point, but we also don't know what's happened behind the scenes. ANYTHING could've happened.

Maybe they didn't get greenlit for a Season 2? Even if they have enough funding and support from the fans for it, they can't move forward without that green light.

There's not enough funding or other resources for them to realistically work on a Season 2 right now. They're also working on TADC and the new Gaslight District and have also just now picked up helping Lackadaisy with funding. Pretty sure at least some of the GLITCH crew works on the main SMG4 channel's stuff as well. That's a LOT to work with from such a small company! It might be a case of they bit off more than they could chew. This could also indicate that it's a temporary thing, but they don't want to get peoples' hopes up in case they can't give us the coveted Season 2.

Liam could be feeling burnout and wants to work on something else. I believe Murder Drones is his longest running series, and it's been in production for at least 4-ish years, counting the Pilot episode. He could've very well lost motivation or be suffering from burnout in that amount of time!

The main series is ending, but it's because they're planning on doing something else with Murder Drones (such as a sequel or spinoff) instead of a Season 2. Up until about when Episode 7 dropped, the Murder Drones playlist was labeled "Season 1" and Liam has said in a past AMA that he planned on there being a Season 2 at some point. He could've discussed his plans for Season 2 with GLITCH and they collectively decided that a spinoff/sequel/etc. would be a better fit for Liam's ideas!

Those are just a few scenarios that could have caused its ending; it's not necessarily a "hurr durr we wanna ditch literally everything else we're working on because TADC gives the monies" situation. Obviously, unless Liam himself or someone actually from GLITCH comes out and makes a statement about it, we don't know for sure why or what caused it. But again, I think it's incredibly unfair to blame TADC over it.

As for my feelings on its conclusion though? Bittersweet. I'm so excited to see what Liam's got planned for the finale and I know it's going to be epic; it'll be so cool getting to see everything come to an end! But at the same time, I'll be sad 'cause it's over. No more excitedly waiting and wondering what's going to happen in the next episode or wondering how the current one's cliffhanger is going to resolve. Buuuut that doesn't mean it's the end! There's still a chance we could get more official Murder Drones content, but even if we don't we've got fanworks! This fandom is one of the most passionate ones I've been in and I don't think it's going anywhere any time soon, even if we never get another official piece of content.

Personally, I'm going to keep working on my AU and keep drawing my drones. The show ending isn't going to stop me! >:D

(Also lowkey is kinda good because after this episode, I don't have to worry about the next episode completely destroying some of my lore again. lol)

[ishipallthings]

Cap-IM Rec Week 2023 (Wed)

Wonderous Wednesday, July 19 for @cap-ironman Rec Week!

Today I'm reccing some of my favorite AUs :D

Remember to show some love for your hard-working creators!

this is how you fall in love by complicationstoo @ifmywishescametrue

Steve wants to have sex at least once before he graduates from college. He’s twenty one, never really dated anyone, and doesn’t see the point in waiting any longer. He plans for just a simple one night stand with no strings attached, but his plan doesn't account for falling in love with Tony Stark.

make my wish come true by JehBeeEh @jehbeeeh

Steve Rogers and Tony Stark haven't seen each other since they left for college. When they're reunited in the same small town where they grew up, old feelings resurface that neither expected. Can they work together without letting their feelings get in the way. Or will they be left heartbroken when they both have to leave after the holidays? A story about going home, going for what you want, and delicious cookies.

santa, won't you bring me the one i really need by quidhitch @maangoes

Although Tony typically makes it a point to avoid anything that could be reasonably classified as Pepper-approved self-betterment, he will be making an exception this year in the form of a list of New Year’s Resolutions. —Well, not so much a list, exactly, it’s more like one very loud, very obvious, very critical proposition. He’s gonna write it down, put it on his calendar, say it to Jesus, and do whatever the fuck normal people do to make these things happen. In fact, even though they’re only halfway through December, it’s already emblazoned in his mind in big, flashing neon letters: STOP SLEEPING WITH EX-HUSBAND. This is possibly an inappropriate thought to have while said ex-husband is pushing him up against his apartment door and trying to get his hand down Tony’s pants, but Tony has admittedly never excelled at being appropriate.

Dedicated to You by mariana_oconnor @mariana-oconnor

Steve Rogers is happy with his life. He runs a small bookshop, has good friends, and he fervently believes that the printed page is not obsolete. He's not expecting Tony Stark, billionaire inventor of the best e-reader on the market and perennial prey of the gossip magazines, to walk through the door. His friends think he's crazy not to at least get the man's number, considering he's had a crush on Tony for years, but as luck would have it Steve might just get another chance. A Notting Hill AU.

stellar collision by Pandemic @eachxnn

He turns sixteen in front of his bathroom mirror with a chill across his skin, goosebumps on his arms, and a burn across his sternum. A wet laugh bubbles up from his mouth, too close to tears, as he watches avidly as ink pours across his skin. He thumbs the mark, presses into it, and gasps when he feels his stomach twist and a feeling he can’t shake that his soulmark is somewhere out there doing the same.

Place Your Bets by RurouniHime @thegertie

Steve Rogers may or may not have just picked up a prostitute. This may or may not be Tony Stark’s fault.

the road to hell by colourexplosion

in which no one has super powers and Steve is Tony's PA after Pepper gets promoted.

it's a small world after all by earliebirb @earliebirb

“Great speech.” Smiling at the compliment, Tony turns around. “Thank y—” And nearly drops his champagne flute. His world comes to a stop. They had only spent a night together, but Tony would recognize those baby blues anywhere. It’s Steve. Steve from Tony’s London business trip. Or, as Rhodey has become accustomed to calling him—The Soulmate That Got Away. 

you'll remember me by Areiton @areiton

Tony closes his eyes and wonders, a brief sharp sting of pain, if Steve's watching tonight. If he still likes to drink his whiskey and coke and pick out winners before they are announced, if his eyes still light up when he watches a movie. Tony licks his lips and pushes the thought down away, where it can't hurt him, where it won't show on his face. Because he won't show it, not here, not where the entire world is watching. It's his. Just his.

Selvage by elwenyere @elwenyere

When a mysterious knight is wounded in battle while protecting King Anthony Stark, it's hard to tell who's more frustrated: the king, who has so far failed to discover any clues to the missing man's identity, or the king's personal attendant, Steven Rogers, who can't believe King Anthony took the field in the first place.

Ain't It A Shame, Too Bad? by Carsonian @carsonian

On his twenty-fourth birthday, Tony was saved from drowning by a man he has yet to find. In other news, Tony's fallen hard for the mute, scrawny blond that washed up on his kingdom's shoreline two-and-a-half days ago. These two things can't possibly be related, can they? (Spoiler(s): They're related.)

The Stark Who Loved Me by gonetoarcadia (fic), Girl_Back_There (art)

It’s 1814 and Captain Steven Rogers joined the army to provide for his adoptive sister Miss Jamie Rebecca “Becky” Barnes following the death of their parents. Although she’d prefer to run away to join the army too, instead she decides to do what will guarantee to bring him home and provide for both of them: marry. The Viscount Anthony Stark is a known Rake and prefers it that way, but he can feel the clock counting down until he needs to produce an heir to inherit everything. With the Stark estate in jeopardy, he’s running out of both time and options. If he has to, then who better than the diamond of the season, Miss Barnes? The only hitch: her overbearing, troublesome brother. Her extremely handsome, overbearing, troublesome brother. Nothing is simple in the game of courtship, especially when the most dangerous thing of all becomes involved: falling in love.

Hope you guys enjoy the recs, and stay tuned for more! Please mind the tags before reading. Check out my tag for previous years’ rec lists :)

[carisi-dreams]

Fictober 2023

Prompt number: #15, “Fine, explain it to me.” Fandom (AU if applicable): Law & Order: SVU Pairing: Sonny Carisi x Reader, Motorcycle!AU Rating: M Warnings/Tags: Warnings: not safe for work, profanity, sexual content; Tags: AU

-----

This takes place right after the previous Fictober 2023 fill and is very en ess eff double u!

“I heard you earlier, Sonny,” you said tightly as you crossed your arms across your chest. “And I know that, anyway. I know, okay? But I don’t want to have this conversation again right now.”

“There’s only a conversation,” Sonny came down on the last word hard with dripping sarcasm, “because you keep lying to me. Little or big, doesn’t make a difference.” He threw his hands in the air in exasperation.

“Don’t get high and mighty on me,” you started, revving up even though you’d just said you didn’t want to talk about it. “Leaning on this ‘no lying’ shit this heavy is a bit rich coming from a goddamn outlaw.” 

“I’m the goddamn outlaw, that’s right,” Sonny growled. His hands came to square your hips on the bed. “Which means that I have a ph motherfucking D in lying.” You clenched your jaw and looked up into his eyes stormily. “But that’s not how this whole partnership thing is supposed to go.”

“Fine, explain it to me,” you said defiantly.

“We’re going home,” Sonny said lowly. “Together. Now.” He stood in one lithe movement. The leather of his worn kutte squeaked slightly and you heard a cheer go up in the other room. “I don’t give a shit about this party and if you want to sit and brood, you can do that in the house we have spent a lot of energy into making a home.”

The air crackled and the mood shifted into something slow, sweet, and bitter - molasses. 

“You want to stay, let’s stay,” you insisted as you stood up from the bed and stepped close to him. Stubbornness and pettiness stirred a dangerous cocktail within you. “I don’t give a goddamn where we are right now.”

Sonny’s hands came up on his hips and he took a step forward towards you. The frame of the bed dug into your calves as you took a step back automatically. He took another step forward and you side stepped him to stand in front of the door. There was a dark look in his eye as he half looked over his shoulder at you from under his eyelids. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth again and tilted his head contemplatively. When you shifted your weight - from impatience, budding arousal, or nervousness, you weren’t really sure - his eyes dropped to your hips and then came back up to your face in a slow meandering line. Sonny stalked towards you slowly and his maintained eye contact seemed to pin your feet to the floor. You had the distinct feeling that you were now the rabbit and he was the coyote.

“You’ve got a mighty dirty mouth tonight, doll,” Sonny drawled as he tucked his chin and tilted his head to maintain eye contact even as he now towered over you. 

A step back had your shoulder blades colliding with the door behind you. There was nowhere for you to go and Sonny still hadn’t even touched you. Anticipation ratcheted up and the molasses turned golden in your mouth, like honey. Your mouth went dry even as the space between your legs dampened.

In lieu of a response, you rolled your eyes and cocked your hip. Sonny smirked at your bravado and finally dropped one of the hands from his hips. Unrushed he brought it up to your mouth and traced your lips lazily. A white hot path followed in his finger’s wake and your lips tingled without ever having been kissed. When you nipped his finger suddenly he drew back in surprise and then chuckled lowly.

“It’s good that you’ve still got that fighting spirit.” 

Sonny pressed against you, but you refused to try to back away this time. There wasn’t anywhere for you to go even if you had wanted to. He had you pinned and was barely touching you. And almost worst than all, he knew that you liked it. He knew that you were letting him hew you in. He knew that this is what you needed - him in charge, him calling the shots, him overwhelming you so that your brain would finally stop buzzing. Sonny had been right, much more than you’d given him credit for, and he watched the realization flicker across your face and answered it with a slight, smug smile.

“I told you that I can see what’s been in front of my face for a long time,” he said lowly. 

The smell of alcohol wafted off of his breath into your face as he ducked his head slowly to bring his nose right against yours, but it wasn’t a turn off. If anything, it made your blood heat even more because this was raw Sonny singularly focused on you. You leaned up to close the distance between your mouths, but he caught your shoulders in his hands and pressed you back against the door.

“I hope you still don’t give a goddamn where we are right now, doll,” Sonny rasped before ducking his mouth to your neck. 

His grip on your shoulders was firm and just this side of not hurting, but there was no mistaking the reminder that he had you pinned deliberately. You hissed when his teeth closed on the delicate skin of your neck and when you squirmed he tightened his hold on your arms but pulled his mouth away. 

“Because I’m going to fuck you against this door.” Sonny kept going even when you inhaled sharply through your nose. “And if you don’t keep those pretty lips pressed very firmly together.” He stole in for a quick kiss and you strained to chase his mouth before he pulled out of a reach with a chuckle that made your face go hot. “If you don’t keep those pretty lips pressed together, everyone is going to hear you.” He bent low to whisper the last part in your ear and you squirmed against his grip again.

“Sonny–”

He cut off your plea with a shake of his head and a hand over your mouth.

“You didn’t want to have a conversation, so let’s not talk.”

In a single motion, Sonny turned you around so that you were facing the door as he adjusted his hand over your mouth. Now, your back pressed firmly to his front and he pressed on your mouth a little, making you arch your back into his chest. When you rolled your hips back into his he chuckled again and you didn’t care this time. Wanton with arousal, you played the cards you had.

“Tsk tsk,” he admonished. The reprisal was short lived because he dropped his hand from your mouth to the front of your jeans. His fingers were warm when they pushed under the hem of your shirt to rest on your lower belly. His pinky edged under your waistband and your arousal grew. “None of that, sweetheart. We’re on my timeline.”

“Then, hurry the fuck up,” you gritted out with a heavy weight on the profanity. Testing him. “Or did you drink too much and now you’re all promises and limp cactus.”

“Cute,” Sonny said drily. A hand slid into the back of your hair and gripped the base of your skull with the flatness of his palm pressed against you firmly. With his other hand, he grabbed your right one and forced it against the bulge in the front of his jeans. “You tell me if that’s thorny enough for you, darling.”

Your mind went helpfully blank and you said nothing. For a moment, all you could hear was the blood in your ears and loudness of your breath. Behind it, the sound of breaking glass preceded an uproar on the other side of the door and you leaned forward to let your forehead press against the wood. 

“Good girl,” Sonny rasped lowly. 

He guided your wrist to the door over your head and pressed it firmly before releasing it. You kept your hand still and he murmured appreciatively again as he kicked your left foot out to widen your stance. 

“Good girls get rewarded,” he promised in the same voice that had the hair on the back of your neck standing up and the arousal between your legs dripping. 

Your face burned again as you anticipated his reaction when he found out just how wet you were. He guided your other hand to press next to your right hand on the door and then caught your wrists in his grip. This time, when he pressed his crotch against you and you pressed back he didn’t admonish you.

His free hand somehow made quick work of the button and zipper on your jeans and not for the first time you felt a zing at the base of your spine realizing that he was still just as deft after drinking as he was sober. When had you missed this? This sharper, deadlier Sonny. When had he learned to balance this sloppiness with this…precision? You didn’t have any time to follow that train of thought any longer because he was roughly tugging your jeans down enough to slip over your ass and down your thighs. His hand cupped you and you exhaled strongly and let your head loll back to meet his shoulder.

“This is what you want, isn’t it?” It was a rhetorical question and still you made to answer before he ran his middle finger along your slit outside of your panties. He pulled the answer from you instead. You moaned before you could catch it and this time you felt him chuckle. “Doll, you’re very wet.” Sonny’s tone was almost conversational and when you squirmed he tightened his grip on the hand capturing your wrists above your head. “Very.”

“Son-ny!” Your face sharply rose on the end of his name as he pulled your panties aside and dipped a finger between your folds to encircle your clitoris once.

“I’m going to fuck you,” he said conversationally as he pulled his hand away. 

You could feel his knuckles jostling as he roughly unzipped his pants. They fell to the floor with a loud clatter of the buckle and keys colliding and you swallowed hard. You could feel his length against you and you knew that there was little you could do to make Sonny hurry up. He was going to take you exactly how he wanted to. And he knew that that was exactly what you wanted.

“And you can be as loud as you want,” he continued in the same conversational tone. “Keep your hands exactly where I put them or I’ll stop.” He pressed against them one last time before one hand went to your hair again and the other to your hip.

“My hands are a little preoccupied right now, sweetheart, why don’t you fuck yourself back onto me?” 

You shuddered and the hand in his hair pulled back sharply and made you arch your back. The hand on your hip lined you up and then let go to hold himself firmly at your entrance.

“Push right on back and show me how desperate you are for me,” Sonny murmured.

You longed to press your forehead against the door, feeling bare and exposed, but his grip on your hair wasn’t loosening. Instead, you closed your eyes and sank back, taking him inch by inch until he was fully seated. Sonny nosed against your temple roughly before pressing a small kiss to it. 

“That all you got?”

“I thought you were going to fuck me,” you ground out. 

Sonny laughed and it was a wild bark instead of the chuckle from before. A heavy hand dropped onto the top of your right butt cheek and you flinched a little. He soothed the sting with a squeeze and then gripped either side of your hips in firm hands. You let your forehead rest against the door finally and you’d barely felt it make contact before he was pulling out and pushing back in roughly. It pulled a surprised moan out of you, but he didn’t slow down. 

Immediately, he set a driving pace as he pulled your hips back to meet his and arched your back more to his liking. Your panties caught against your clit roughly where they had been partially pushed out of the way and you knew it was not going to take you long to come. It was like Sonny had sensed that because his strokes got harder and more insistent. His body pressed against yours heavily and you were completely overwhelmed by him. 

“How’s that, doll?” Sonny huffed out. Without seeing his face you could still sense the smugness under his arousal. You could taste how self-satisfied he was and how he was not going to relent unless you wanted him to. “You remember who I am, yet.”

You swore and this time when you let your forehead rest against the door like a prayer you moaned loudly. There was a part of you that wanted other people to hear. You wanted to be claimed and for everyone to remember that you belonged to Sonny. No matter what, you belonged to him. No matter what, he’d take care of anyone and anything else that tried to fuck with you. No matter what, he was unrelenting in his attention and care for you. No matter what. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you moaned louder.

“Good girl,” he praised in a gentler tone. 

His hips maintained the same unrelenting rhythm before stuttering to a stop for a moment. You opened your mouth to protest, but he pushed you towards and then onto the bed before you could. Bearing you down onto the mattress, he slot himself between your thighs and pressed back into you barely missing a beat. You pressed the side of your face into the pillow and he tugged the fabric away from your mouth before capturing your hands on either side of your head and pressing them firmly into the bed.

“I’ve got you,” Sonny whispered. He kissed the moisture at the corner of your eyes and shifted up to fuck into you in short firm strokes. “I’ve got you, doll.”

“Sonny.” 

Your voice sounded wrecked even to your own ears and you thought for sure he would stop. His worry always won out. But this time, much to your relief, he just kissed the high point of your cheek again and kept driving into you.

“You’re going to come for me.” He pressed his mouth to your ear and his closeness contrasted with the laughter that you could hear in the other room made you melt. Even with the party raging on, his attention was on you.

A knock pounded on the door suddenly and you froze. Your stomach swooped and the breath was pushed out of you as Sonny switched from short strokes to long ones. Unrelenting even with this new distraction.

“No!” Sonny called harshly to whoever was knocking.

“Boss, you’re missing a–”

“Go the fuck away!” Sonny interrupted in the same harsh tone that was at odds with the honeyed tilt of his hips. “Now.”

Heavy footsteps stomped away and you breathed a sign of relief. You couldn’t remember if the door was closed, although only a stupid prospect would be insane enough to open Sonny’s door without permission. Still, you’d seen stupider things in your time.

“Don’t you worry, love,” Sonny soothed with a teasing rasp, “You have my full attention.”

“Please, Sonny,” you pleaded. It was the most you’d said in a while and you could hear the smile in Sonny’s voice when he responded.

“I’ve got you,” he promised. He lay over your back, pressing you deeper into the mattress and himself deeper inside of you. “You’re doing so good for me, doll. You going to come for me?”

You turned your head to press your forehead against the pillow, hiding your face and letting the fabric under your mouth dampen from your ragged open mouthed breathing. Even if you had wanted to answer him, you couldn’t, because your orgasm was suddenly crackling through you like you’d been struck with lighting. It licked up your spine and you moaned his name so loudly that if it hadn’t been muffled in the comforter it definitely would have been heard from the other side of the door.

Sonny swore and his hips stuttered as he came right after you. He rolled his hips a few more times before collapsing into the bed and narrowly missing you. With a clumsy outstretch of his arms, he pulled you back into his chest.

“C’mere,” he murmured as he guided you to turn so that you were facing him. You ducked your chin and avoided his gaze. Feelings of embarrassment and contentment jockeyed to be dominant and embarrassment was winning for the moment. “Love you,” he huffed against your forehead. His lips were warm where they brushed your skin and he tightened his arms around you and let you hide.

“And I’ve got you.”

[accidents-in-the-laboratory]

OWP

This one focuses on Norman Osborn from Spider-Man (2002). Like the previous OWP, I had already written it a long time ago but never posted it until now.

After rereading what I'd written, I hated the ending and I don't have the motivation to change it, so I just left it out. So this one also doesn't have a real resolution.

Under the cut because it's long. Hope you enjoy! Comments are loved. :D

Norman glanced up at the clock. Ten minutes. Ten minutes until this meeting was over. Ten minutes until he could finally use the bathroom. 

This was the third meeting he’d had that day. The meetings had been back to back. As soon as one meeting ended, he had enough time to walk to the room where the next meeting was being held, and then that meeting started. 

Today wasn’t the only day where his schedule had been like this. These days were torturous. It could be anywhere between four and six hours without any breaks in between. No breaks to eat. No breaks to rest. No breaks to relieve himself. 

Days on the shorter side of that span were bearable. But days on the longer side — days like today — were hard to get through. Even one cup of coffee in the morning was enough to make him miserable by the time the meetings were finally over. 

Today, his schedule was really pushing him to his limits. 

“Are you okay?”

Goblin. Usually, he stayed quiet while Norman was at work. Apparently, he’d felt the need to check in on Norman. Norman knew he should probably be mad, but a part of him was thankful for the distraction. 

I feel like I’m going to explode, he thought. 

“Are you saying that figuratively or do you need to call an ambulance?” Goblin asked. 

Figuratively, Norman replied. If I don’t go to the bathroom soon I’m going to piss my pants. 

He glanced up at the clock again. Eight minutes. 

“Then why don’t you just do that and get it over with?” Goblin asked. “That’s what I would do.”

I’m sure you would. Otto tells me you have trouble with that at home.

“Fucking snitch! That’s none of your business!”

I think I deserve to know why I have to do five loads of laundry a week when I should only have to do one.

“It doesn’t happen that much! It only happens, like, twice a week now!”

Wow. Good for you.

Norman felt someone tap his shoulder. 

“What?” he asked, instantly snapping back to attention.

He was asked for his opinion about the topic of the meeting. He tried to keep his voice steady as he answered. Even when he peed a little and struggled to regain control, he was able to keep his voice steady and his body relatively still. He finished speaking and the conversation continued. 

I don’t think I’m going to make it, he thought, half talking to Goblin and half talking to himself. Goblin answered. 

“Then go. Wherever you want to. Nobody can stop you. They’d be rude to.”

I can’t go right now.

“I’ll never understand you.”

Several long, agonizing minutes later, the meeting ended. Norman packed up his briefcase, shoving papers inside without caring about how neat they were. He hissed in a breath when he stood up and the need to pee got ten times worse. He walked swiftly back to his office, begging his body to “hold it.” All he needed to do was drop his briefcase off at his office and then he could finally get the relief he’d needed for the past several hours. 

As he walked into his office, he heard his phone ringing. He groaned as he walked over to his desk. He dropped the briefcase onto the floor and sat down in his chair — at least sitting down felt better than standing. He picked up the phone and held it up to his ear. 

“Hello?” he asked. He noticed too late that his voice sounded strained. Though, maybe that was a good thing. 

There was a man on the other end who wanted to talk to him about a topic that, in his “I’m-trying-desperately-not-to-piss-myself” haze, he couldn’t remember ever discussing with anybody. He couldn’t even remember who this man was. 

“Can this wait until another time,” he asked, putting as much desperation into his voice as he could. 

The man insisted that this conversation could not wait. But Norman could not wait, either. He had somewhere urgent to be, and soon. 

“I’m busy right now,” he insisted. “It’s not really a good time for me.”

The man kept saying that “this won’t take too long” and “it will only take a minute.” But Norman didn’t have a minute. By how hard it was getting to keep his bladder under control, he guessed that he had about forty-five seconds until all hell broke loose. 

“Can we please postpone this for a later time?” he begged. He was thankful it was just a phone call, and the man at the other end of the line couldn’t see his incessant squirming. “Just give me one minute and I’ll call you back.”

The man insisted that the call was urgent. Norman believed that his situation was much more urgent than a phone call. 

“One minute,” he begged. “That’s all I need. And then I’ll call you back.”

Still, the man insisted on continuing the call. Norman was getting desperate. He couldn’t stop himself before yelling,

“I am about to piss my pants can we please reschedule this call for another time?!”

There was silence for a few seconds. Norman thought he should just hang up. It would probably be better. But eventually, the man agreed. 

Not waiting to hear what else he had to say or even to reschedule their next call, Norman slammed the phone down on the receiver and stood up. He ran out of his office and into the main office. 

Immediately, people were surrounding him. They said his name, asking him questions before he even acknowledged them. He tried to be polite as he waved them away, but every time he asked one person to wait, someone else would show up and try to ask him a different question. Some people stopped in front of him so he couldn’t keep moving. He started to lose his patience and began snapping at people who tried to stop him. 

He finally got to the bathroom and reached out to push the door opened. People were still talking to him, trying to get his attention, everyone speaking all at once, some people going so far as to grab his arm or shoulder. Furious, desperate, and wanting nothing more than to be left alone, he spun around and yelled,

“Can everyone just leave me alone for one goddamn minute?!”

Silence followed. Everyone was staring at him. Most wore shocked expressions. Some people were whispering to each other. One person snickered and another person shushed them. 

Norman wished they were reacting to his sudden outburst. But he could clearly feel what they were really reacting to. Against his better judgement, he looked down. The spreading dark stain was obvious against the light gray pants he’d chosen to wear. He watched in real time as the stain spread across the front and down the legs of his pants. Eventually, a stream dripped out of one pant leg and onto the floor. He would have felt immense relief if humiliation wasn’t overpowering it. 

He looked back up. People were still staring at him. He felt tears stinging his eyes. He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t get himself to move. He couldn’t get himself to speak. All he could do was stand there. 

“Those fuckers,” he heard Goblin growl. “What do they think they’re staring at? I’ll fucking kill them!”

Then he heard another voice. One that was familiar and comforting. 

“What the hell are you all doing?” Otto yelled. Norman saw him walking through the crowd of people. “You should be ashamed of yourselves! He’s a human being! Are you just going to stand there and gawk at him like he’s a fucking zoo animal? Get out of here! Or I swear I’ll find a way to fire your asses!”

People finally started to disperse, quickly looking away as if they were embarrassed. Norman looked up at Otto as he got closer. He bit his lip, trying to choke back sobs. When he blinked, tears rolled down his cheeks. 

“Come on,” Otto said in a soft, soothing voice. “Let’s go into your office.”

Norman let Otto lead him back to his office. As soon as Otto closed the door, Norman broke down into loud sobs of humiliation and anger. Otto pulled him closer and hugged him. Norman sobbed into his shoulder as Otto rubbed his back.

[dyed-red]

I voted for priest Sam hair! Not only because it was the correct choice, but, hey, bribery! So for a mini Dickey, a choice between outsider POV of the boys being weird about each other or late seasons domestic!Winchesters? If neither of those work for you, write something you like 😁

I love that my bribery accomplished nothing, because everyone taking me up on the offer is someone who was already going to (or already had) vote for the correct choice anyway :D truly net zero impact on the poll, which is likely for the best.

and ahh, i do love both outsider PoV and domestic!chesters, so this is good. and in my typical fashion, my answer is:

Set after 12x11, "Regarding Dean".

They're very beautiful boys is the thing. Well, not the thing, but certainly part of it. Rowena thinks that anyone would be hard-pressed to judge her somewhat embarrassing lack of self-preservation in this regard, if they too got to experience the full effect of Sam Winchester imperious gaze or Dean's intermittently roguish and boyish smiles.

That or, like so many before her, she truly just did contract Winchester Derangement Syndrome. Oh well.

She'd wanted to skirt out of town quickly, after helping fix up Dean's memory. It would be the prudent thing to do. But it was also an opportunity, one that might not drop into her lap quite so easily again anytime soon, to get a read on the brothers without being observed herself. One had to wonder how they did it, held the world together with duck tape and a can-do attitude, considering how ordinary and brutish they'd seemed at first.

Well. Maybe not entirely brutish. Sam's command of Latin and spellwork had always intrigued her. But that was neither here nor there, and he wasn't accomplished enough a spellcrafter to see through the glamour that she wove around herself -- an angling and aging of the face, a darkening and straightening of the hair, a thinning of the lips and tinting to the eyes. Enough that, with an outfit passably dull, she could opposite to them in the pub where they made their way for dinner and rest before they'd set out in the morning. A quiet place on the outskirts of town, locals trudging work boots in and tired or sore from the day. Sam and Dean fit right in. They seemed to fit in most anywhere they went.

Better chameleons than even her glamour could afford her. A few hundred years and Rowena wasn't sure she'd perfected the art of invisibility as well as two men gorgeous enough to be on magazine covers. That was something.

She'd followed them in, waited across the parking lot, and wondered if Dean had injured himself somehow on the day's misadventures. She didn't recall anything, not much action except for at the end there, otherwise just Sam pasting sticky notes to objects and Dean becoming cuter and more bearable by the minute. She didn't recall anything, but Sam's hand never strayed from Dean's back as they made their way across the lot, and Dean never shrugged it off.

By the time she slipped inside, found herself a stool at a table with a view of their booth, they were seated across from one another. She'd never noticed, never bothered to, how far their legs stretched under a table, tangled up into each other's foot-space. At her height, not an issue she had frequently. But Sam was leaned back, fingers on the table, leg, ankle jostling against Dean's calf underneath it. He looked relaxed, and something in Rowena's chest eased at seeing it.

The curse was properly fixed then. Of course she wouldn't wait around in town just to be sure, she wasn't their minder and anyway she'd been certain it was fixed before they parted ways. Still though, confirmation never rankled.

Dean looked around and Rowena turned her gaze to the bland offerings on the menu and in her peripheral she heard his voice, not the words, and then Sam's laughter, loud and startled for a moment then quieter.

When she glanced over, Dean was grinning, leaned in, and Sam's face was so fond her own stomach felt a little gurgly, as if caterpillars (never butterflies) might take up residence.

There was a motion, quick dart, and Sam's hand was on Dean's. Overtop, maybe on his wrist. Rowena's caterpillars turned to lead -- waited with bated breath as their waitress came over and they separated, expressions shifting quick like guilty schoolboy -- and then burst forth into winged insects instead, fluttering around her insides. She bit the inside of her cheek, eyes alight, and ignored the moths taking up residence inside of her.

Well, that was something then.

It wasn't all that scandalous, that kind of sin. Proscribed by the law of every place and time, but something you saw a time or twenty if you lived long enough. It wasn't as if she hadn't suspected. Her imaginings had been more brutal though, more teeth gnashing end-of-world anger with each other, clinging and messy and mad with it. Hand touches across the tables and -- the memory surfaced from earlier in the day -- delighted grins over the potential for a front row seat to some 'live skinemax', that hadn't been what she'd conjured up.

And oh, to be the live entertainer with Sam, to have pleasure made into a show for Dean's affections. Too bad Sam had to be so focused on fixing his brother, they could have had some real fun that afternoon. She certainly wouldn't have complained.

She ordered something herself, a salad and, because life was short, two types of dessert to follow. If there was some thing cold-blooded American capitalism had done right, it was egregiously portioned and delectably indulgent desserts.

The brothers ate, and laughed, and sighed across their bench from each other, seeming weary but well. Ordinary, but far from it. Their legs tangled deeper into each other's space. Dean's fingers drummed an absent pattern, no doubt from one of those rock bands he liked, and Sam nudged him with his leg and directed him to where some dart boards were setup. They brushed shoulders and elbowed each other, were close enough for her to catch snatches of their conversation. Teasing, mostly. Challenging, boyish one-upmanship. Flirting, quite obviously, when Sam's voice dropped to growl something in Dean's ear she couldn't catch, the tone of which had her stomach swooping anyway.

They left not long after, when her second dessert arrived. A little flavourless, in comparison. She left without bothering to finish, left town that night without dawdling any longer. The boys were good, and were comforting each other, and they owed her one. The rest was between them.

[astarab1aze]

rping/rpc petpeeves for munday? 💀

i can think of a couple.

anon hate, as if we're not all adults here, to name one. the complete and utter lack of respect some people show toward other writers is just ??? it's nuts. another thing is activism within the rpc and the advent of twitter-esque dog-piling when someone doesn't get their way - most i've found either have good intentions and just get it wrong (sokay, we all learn) or are sort of using x cause as an excuse to bully and isolate people as if that's ever been okay or appropriate (bad faith; the 'cause' is a smokescreen that makes the person getting harassed look bad for defending themselves, which i don't and never have vibed with; i spent a lot of time in discourse circles and people who do this don't actually have any convictions, they're just being dicks because they know they can be and get asspats after). people who take things too personally too, because at the end of the day, this is a hobby and we're all human. we can't all talk to each other all day every day, it's just not feasible, and if it takes a week or more for someone to get back to you, it's most likely the exact opposite of intentional. i forget everything all the time, my notifications don't always work on tumblr or discord, there isn't enough time in the day in the first place, and like some i have children and am married, i'm severely time blind (i thought it was still februrary until last week) or otherwise have 800 different things to do at any given time. a lack of communication, at least from me, isn't ever personal, and i'd wager it's about the same for other folks too. sometimes i need to be reminded or nudged and i don't mind that as long as its respectful. yaddayadda.

also it's weird to me that just a couple of days or a couple of weeks of not talking or writing is enough for some people to unfollow, break off/drop roleplays, or whathaveyou. it's just...weird, to me. it shows an unwillingness to understand that someone else's life doesn't revolve around roleplay, and also impatience. i would understand maybe a month or so, but not anything before. my rp besties and i regularly take a few days, sometimes a few weeks to respond to each other's messages and there's no bad blood there. on this front, this is exactly why i'm as laid back as i am - take as long as you need to, i'm not going anywhere.

i have some probably unpopular opinions too, not just pet peeves, but i'll save those for another day. like if someone writes, idk, noncon, i'm probably not going to jump down their throat because a) i don't know them, b) i don't know why they're writing it, c) i probably never will, and d) i'm probably not seeing it on dash anyway since i block and filter tags. when i said this is a judgment free zone, i really meant it. it's not my place and i don't care anyway. write whatever you want? be it to cope or explore something difficult so you can understand it or something else so you can have fun. because i will, even if that's really just complicated romance with a fantasy backdrop. write whatever wish fulfillment and escapist nonsense you wanna write too, while we're here, because genuinely i'm tired of that being seen as a bad thing also. we've all written something someone hates for one reason or another, whether it be unrealistic or 'disgusting', so really all you can do is keep truckin' cos you can't please everyone and it's pointless to even try.

[she-ismysun-archive]

The Rookie 6x03 Live Blog

Trouble in Paradise eh? I’ve been betrayed by so many social media notifs. It is time to watch now at the ripe hour of 6am ET.

AI JUMPSCARE? IN MY ROOKIE?

Lucy: nononono. That’s exactly right, though. See? Because I can only control me so *I need to be perfect*

Tims taking a shower smirk. MAYEB I COULDBTAKE A BREAK????

Jump to Aaron. Being rejected by Celina was EQUALLY? As traumatizing?? As being SHOT????

ONLYFANS? Is this why Eric and Roselyn keep bringing up onlyfans on their podcast 😭??

Me when Aaron doesn’t know how to apologize without throwing money at the problem?

Lucy Oral exam time. SMITTY PLEASE.

Celina and Bradford team up episode :D and also Lucy in the backseat

Creepy ass mask update. JOHN BEING SO GUNG HO ABOUT HIS VLOGGING.

Nolan: and don’t worry. I’ll make it sound like we’re old and no fun. By the time im done, he won’t want to be anywhere near us.

BAILEY DUBBING HIS CONVERSATION??

Both of you OUT NOW EHHSJSNS

First Chenford Juarez scene

I don’t know my name??

Juarez laughing at him dropping all of his stolen goods

She just puked on so hard

Why the hell is their door open. Haha. So funny. I don’t like the horror aspect of this episode so far. STOP PLEASE THE. THE TIMELAPSE OF THEM SLEEPING.. AN HOUR?? A full HOUR of this man watching them sleep.

A little tired of Aaron being the first thing anyone brings up when they talk to Celina.

And now the dead body from promo has washed up on shore 🫡 OH ITS THE HOUSEKEEPER? Literally his DAUGHTER I THOUGHT.

Does Lucy still jump every time Tim says Boot?

Tried to get a gif but it’s not .. helping my case LOL

John and Bailey remaining our little trouble magnets. Can’t wait for Nyla and Angela to show up

Wait ok the housekeeper is different from Elise. I am REALLY not loving this horror/jump scare episode.

Hello there fine ass Tim. Letting Lucy sleep in except the test randomly moved up. Celina’s first “good work” of the damn episode.

Man in the wall. Hrmmm.

God she is the last damn person in that waiting room to take her exam. After they “moved up her exam”. Recently you failed to secure a crime scene. Agony agony. SHES DOING SO GOOD. SHE IS ANSWering SO good

Unfortunately I already spoiled her rankings before I got to watch the episode I think.

WHY WOULDNT THEY WAIT? WHY WOULDNT THEY WAIT TO SEE HIS FACE EBEFORE RUNNING OFF ⁉️😭😭😭

He SHOT HIMSELF?? Threw the man into a mirror - 7 years of bad luck john

😔

17th L. Chen HEHEHSHA 17th PLACE TROPHY TIMOTHY BRADFORD

Lucy: you really thought I was gonna come in first??

Tim: of course I did

Lucy: I’m sorry for disappointing you

Tim: you could never disappoint me

AND THEN THEY KISS.