#i could double down on pride in my own work! i could give up the part of my work that's a spiritual gift!

[lovesodeepandwideandwell]

Once again I prove victorious (in my own head) (in the battle of whether I should do different work than I have been doing)

[sugugasm]

“YES MA’AM? . . MORE LIKE YES MOMMY ! ” | jjk + aot

⟡ tags : sukuna + toji + gojo + nanami — a compilation of your favs and how they submit to you . . . content includes positions such as rimming, begging, thigh humping, handjob, blowjob, overstim??, size kink, bondage, pet names used ‘bby, pretty boy, mommy,’ etc. MDNI 19+ 8.0K WC

SUKUNA | bondage + slight handjob + cunninlingus

“oi, princess — gonna’ sit there all night or get this shit over with already?” sukuna questions you, who’s sitting rather delightfully for someone who knew damn well they were in a work of trouble after all this was over with, and as much as he would’ve loved to be the one to end this little power trip you were on, there were some . . obstacles in the way.

to name a few of those said obstacles : the infamous king was currently in a little bit of a knot, muscles on display as his usual mischievous smirk was now being replaced by a rather adorable scowl. his strong arms were bound behind his back, ropes digging into his skin all over — and oh! his thick dick, around 9-ish inches, standing proud and tall against his stomach, thumping every time you came near him. you knew he hated this - more than anything, but to see him surrendering, succumbing to you and only you . .

it was definitely something you’d take a few extra spanks to the ass for later.

“my, my . . don’t go gettin’ all bossy on me, kuna. are you forgetting who’s in charge?” you whisper near his ear, moving a hand to stroke his shaft slowly. you were like a shark scenting blood in water the way your hand began to move in circles, “look at you . .”

his eyes flashed with indignation even as his cock jumped at your words, flushed and leaking against his chiseled abdomen. “i should tear you from limb to limb for this — just for the fun of it, really.”

you chuckled darkly, fisting a hand in his hair and yanking his head back. “you should . . but you won’t. right? because deep down, you want to submit to me, don’t you, sukuna? wanna’ be brought to heel, made to beg and plead for release . .”

he snarled wordlessly but didn't deny it, straining against his bonds. you could see the conflict in his eyes, immense pride warring with dark, forbidden desire. slowly, testing, you trailed your fingers down his heaving chest, once again skimming teasingly light over his throbbing erection. he twitched, a strangled groan escaping through his gritted teeth. “just give in,” you coaxed silkily, cupping his heavy sack, rolling it in your palm. “surrender to me and i’ll make you feel so good, better than you ever imagined . .”

he glared up at you from the chair, mutinously but you could feel his resolve crumbling. grinding his jaw, he gave a single, jerky nod. triumph and dark arousal surged through you. the king of curses, deadly and proud, was yours to command.

unhurriedly, you stripped off your thin robe and kicked it aside. his corvine eyes raked over your bare form, pupils blown with lust. “open,” you instructed, stepping close and fisting his hair again. obediently, he parted his lips, letting you guide his face to your aching center.

the first hot swipe of his tongue between your folds made you gasp and shudder. he lapped at you again, more firmly, clearly savoring your taste. “that’s it,” you praised breathlessly, grinding against his face. “finally put that mouth to good use, make me drip all over you, yeah?”

he snarled into your cunt, tongue delving deeper, flicking over your throbbing clit. you keened, yanking at his hair as shocks of pleasure radiated through you. he licked and sucked voraciously, making obscene wet sounds as he ate you out. the fact that he was just about on his damn knees, servicing you, nearly undid you all on its own. “f-fuck, kuna,” you whined, head thrown back as he tongue-fucked your entrance, rubbing his nose against your clit. “jus’ like that, don’t stop, gonna’ c-cum, baby . .”

he moaned into you, doubling his efforts, devouring your cunt like a man starved. your thighs shook, stomach tightening as you hurtled towards your peak. you felt his teeth graze your clit and you shattered with a sharp cry, gushing into his eager mouth as you came — and he lapped up every drop, working you through the aftershocks until you had to push his head away, too sensitive. panting, you looked down at him, taking in his glossy, slick chin and wild, feverish eyes. “such a good boy,” you purred, thumbing over his wet, swollen lips. “i think you’ve earned a reward . .”

TOJI | blowjob + handcuffs lol :3

“color?” you checked as you finished securing toji’s cuffs to the headboard, sitting back to survey your handiwork.

“green,” he rasped immediately, testing the bonds. they held fast, keeping him splayed beneath you, entirely at your mercy. “very fuckin’ green.”

you smiled, trailing light fingers down his chest, teasing his dusky nipples. “good. y’know what to say if it gets to be too much.”

he shook his head stubbornly even as he arched into your touch with a bitten-off groan. “won’t need to. i can take anything you dish out.”

“mhmm, we’ll see about that,” you mused, pinching and tugging at his sensitive nubs until he was writhing. “by the time m’ done, you’ll be all fucked out.”

he shuddered, cock twitching where it lay thick and flushed against his abs, leaking steadily. “do your worst, sweetheart,” he goaded, eyes sparking challenge. grinning fiercely, you set about taking him apart with hands and mouth, mapping every ridge and valley of his powerful body. you traced the v cut of his hips with your tongue, mouthed teasingly at his inner thighs, ghosted hot breath over his aching cock. he cursed and bucked beneath you, muscles bunching and straining uselessly against the metal cuffs as you worked him into a frenzy.

“oh god . . fuck, [ ★ ], please,” he finally burst out as you lapped kitten-ishly at his weeping cockhead. “s-stop teasin’ me, baby!”

“i told you you’d beg, didn’t i?” you asked smugly, swirling your tongue around his throbbing cock. “ask me nicely for what you want, toji. maybe i’ll give it to you . .”

he threw his head back with a tortured groan, tendons standing out in stark relief as he fought his body's demands. “please,” he grated out. “please suck my cock. i need your mouth on me so bad —” you cut him off by swallowing him down to the hilt in one swift motion, nose nestling in his wiry curls. “a-agh, fuck!” he shouted, hips jerking instinctively, trying to fuck into your tight, wet throat. you held his bucking hips down easily, working him hard and fast, just the way he liked.

“fuck, baby, y-yes,” he babbled, head thrashing on the pillow. “god, your mouth, so fuckin’ good t’me . . m’not gonna’ last like this.”

you pulled off long enough to rasp out, “then don’t. i want to taste you, want you to come for me,” before sinking back down on him, humming around his thickness. toji cried out brokenly as his orgasm crashed into him, pulsing hot and bitter over your tongue. you worked him through it greedily, milking him until he was twitching and gasping from the intensity. when you finally released him, he was flushed and glassy - eyed, chest heaving as he came down.

“told you i could take it,” he slurred, a loopy half-smile tugging at his lips.

“aww, baby,” you whispered wickedly, crawling up his body to hover over him. “we’re jus’ gettin’ started.”

SATORU | rimming + toru calls you mommy

“tell me what you want,” you murmured as you trailed open-mouthed kisses down satoru’s quivering tummy, fingertips skimming teasingly light over his trembling inner thighs. “i’ll give you anything, everything, jus’ tell me . .”

he whined low in his throat, hips canting up needily as you breathed hot over his rigid cock, lips a mere whisper from his fevered skin. “please, [★], i need . .” he babbled, voice high and thready with desperation. “i need you inside me, opening me up, fucking m-me deep. please, please, please . .”

“shhh, i’ve got you love,” you soothed, pressing a kiss to his dripping cockhead even as you circled a slick finger around his fluttering rim. “jus’ relax for me, let me take care of you, honey.” — and he did, head lolling back and thighs falling open wantonly as you carefully breached him, sinking your finger into his clutching hole. he was so soft and smooth inside, muscles gripping your digit hungrily as you started a gentle in and out rhythm.

his cock twitched and leaked against his belly, untouched, as you worked him open reverently, carefully adding a second finger when he was pliant enough. he moaned brokenly, bearing down on the stretch and burn, greedy for more. “y-yes, like that,” he panted, hands fisting in the sheets. “fuck, it feels so good, mommy . .”

“i know, i know . . you’re such a good boy, huh? letting me touch you like this, letting me relax you,” you coo, and on that note, you twisted your wrist, crooking your fingers just right, and satoru jolted like he’d been nearly electrocuted, a ragged shout tearing from his throat.

“t-there!” he cried out, back arching clear off the mattress. “oh fuck, [★], right there, please!” you aimed for that spot mercilessly, milking his prostate with every push and pull of your hand. he was babbling wordlessly now, head thrashing on the pillow, legs shaking and stomach muscles fluttering as his pleasure mounted.

you knew he was close when his cock started to twitch and jerk against his belly, drooling copiously. anticipation coiled hot and tight in your gut as you fingered him faster, pressing hard on that secret bundle of nerves. “c’mon, toru,” you coaxed breathlessly, transfixed by the erotic sight of him. “let go for me, cum on mommy’s fingers.”

satoru does as he’s told, back bowing nearly in half as his orgasm ripped through him with a strangled cry of your name. hot ropes of pearly cum striped his chest and abs as he pulsed and clenched rhythmically around your fingers, milking them for all he was worth. you gentled him through the aftershocks, drawing out his pleasure until he was boneless and trembling, floating in post orgasmic bliss.

slowly, you withdrew your fingers, ignoring his whimper of loss. “you did so well,” you praised, kissing his slack, parted lips. “my perfect boy. think you can get it up for me one more time? wanna’ feel it splitting me open . .”

NANAMI | face sitting + he rides your thigh

nanami knelt naked and trembling, lean muscles pulled taut in anticipation as he waited for your next command. his hard, flushed cock jutted proudly from between his powerful thighs, dripping steadily onto the carpet. you’d been teasing him for what felt like hours, keeping him on a razor’s edge of pleasure and pain, never quite letting him find relief in any way at all.

“baby,” he finally rasped, voice scraped raw from begging. “please, [★], i need you.”

“mm-mm, tell me, kento,” you demanded, pacing around his kneeling form slowly. “tell me exactly what you need.”

he shuddered bodily, adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. “i-i need to cum, please, i’ll do anything, just let me cum — i can’t take anymore . .”

“hmmm.” you pretended to consider, though arousal simmered molten in your veins at his desperate plea. “you beg so pretty, baby. maybe . . maybe you’ve earned it, whaddo’ya say?”

“y-yeah, yes, yes,” he babbled, hope and relief suffusing his handsome face. “i’ll be so good for you, i swear, just tell me what you want from me -”

“your mouth,” you interrupted, fisting a hand in his hair and tugging his head back, baring the strong column of his throat. “i wanna’ ride your face til’ i cum, paint you in me. and if you do a good job, i’ll let you hump my thigh like the desperate slut you are until you make a mess all over both of us. how does that sound?”

“absolutely fucking perfect,” he breathed, pupils blown wide and dark with need. “anything, i want to taste you, wanna’ be soaked in you, sweetheart . .” you didn’t need to hear much further, moaning low in your throat, you sank down fully, your fingers weaving into his thick hair as smothered his face between your thighs. he immediately sealed his hot mouth over your dripping sex, lapping at you broad and greedy. you cried out sharply, hips rocking into the perfect pressure, luxuriating in the wet sounds of his enthusiasm.

he licked deep into your core, nose nudging your throbbing clit, hitting all your most sensitive spots with unerring accuracy. familiar heat started coiling deep in your belly as he worked you relentlessly, taking you apart with lips and tongue and just a hint of teeth.

“oh fuck, kento, s’ s’good . .” you gasped, grinding shamelessly against his face, chasing your pleasure. “you’re s’good for me, so perfect — m’getting close!”

he groaned into your cunt, doubling his efforts, tongue fluttering hummingbird-quick over your clit as he finger fucked your hungry cunt. your thighs quaked, pressure building to an impossible crescendo deep inside. you were already just seconds from shattering apart. then he curled his fingers just right, hitting that spot that made your vision white out as he sucked hard on your aching nub, and you were gone. completely gone. back arching, breath seizing, you came with a hoarse cry, gushing slick over his face and fingers as exquisite pleasure crashed through you in relentless waves.

he worked you through it, drawing out your peak until you were too sensitive and had to push him away weakly. panting, you looked down at him, his chin and cheeks glazed with your essence, eyes fever-bright as he stared up at you in awe. “was that - was i good?” he croaked, lips and chin shiny with your juices.

“so good,” you assured him, thumbing over his swollen mouth before bringing your slick fingers to your own lips for an indulgent taste. “now come here and take what you need. you've earned it.”

groaning brokenly, he surged up to wrap his arms around your hips desperately, rutting his painfully hard cock against your thigh. you held him steady as he took his pleasure, hips snapping frantically, chasing his long-awaited release.

“that’s it, kento,” you cooed, carding your fingers through his sweaty hair as he panted and mewled into your neck. “fuck my thigh just like that, get it all wet n’ filthy with your cum . .”

his broken sob was muffled against your throat as he finally let go, pulsing hot and messy between your bodies as he came completely untouched. you gentled him through it, murmuring praise and reassurance as he shook and gasped and clutched you like a lifeline.

after long moments, he gradually calmed, breath evening out. you continued to stroke his hair, his back, holding him close in the warm afterglow.

“you did so well, sweet boy,” you murmured into his hair. “took everything i gave you so beautifully. m’ so proud of you.”

he whimpered quietly, nuzzling into your neck. “thank you,” he rasped. “for letting me be good for you. i needed that so much.”

“i know baby.” you pressed a tender kiss to his temple. “you’re always s’good for me. my perfect, pretty boy. now let’s get you cleaned up and into bed. want me to hold you?”

he nodded against your skin, clinging tighter. you smiled, heart full to bursting with affection. seeing him like this - open, vulnerable, trusting you so implicitly - was a gift you’d never stop being grateful for, and one that’d never stop giving.

“i got you, ken,” you promised as you gathered him closer, turning to lead him to bed. “i’ll always take care of you, baby. always.”

SATORUBI 2024 | pls do not copy, steal, or modify my work !!! happy reading, luv u sluts <3 also tagging my bff @ramonathinks

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fanfic idea: Wrong Number

Bruce prides himself in keeping all of his networks secured. If he didn't make it himself, he had the funds and connections to get him the best working on his systems.

He had backup plans in case the systems were ever hacked, of course, but he had yet to encounter a cyber attack that wasn't beaten away by his firewalls or his team.

Babs and Tim were far more feral when booting out unwanted guests. The level of protection was also transferred to his other systems that weren't Batman-related, just to make sure the connection between Bruce and Batman was never made.

That's why he never really checks his personal phone's caller ID, not the one he gave out as Brucie Wayne, but the one Bruce used for his real life without any masks- civilian or vigilante. The only ones who had the number- and the access- were his children and Alfred.

Not even the Justice League- those who were aware of his identity- knew of this number.

Bruce is in the middle of typing up a report for the next Wayne Board meeting when his personal phone rings. He figures it's Dick giving him a call to update him on his drive home or maybe Jason, as his son was planning on going to college.

"Go for Papa Bruce," He says, knowing his kids hate his phone greeting and doing it deliberately to spite them.

There is a long pause where he can't help but smirk thinking his child is either rolling their eyes or cringing too hard to properly speak. Eventually, a voice cracks over the speaker.

"Hello. I'm selling cookies to raise money for my own star. Would like to buy a box from me?" says a boy, not one he has taken in. The voice is young maybe not even double digits yet. Bruce is alarmed.

"Who are you?! How did you get this number?" He demands, yanking his phone to his face and seeing, with a chill, a phone number out of state.

His system had been compromised. By a child. By accident.

"My name is Danny!" The boy chirps. "I sell cookies. Like the Girl Scouts, but I'm a boy, and I don't scout."

"That's rather fantastic, lad. What kind of cookies are you selling?" Bruce asks to keep the boy on the line while sending an email blast to the others. It's a string of numbers that are code for compromise so they all know to close any communication channel until it's safe to get back on.

"Chocolate chip. Mint Slim. Oatmeal and peanut butter. I made them myself!"

Right. Bruce hooks up his phone, tracing the call. The signal bounces off the call, swinging up to a salute and falling back down to earth. In seconds he has the boy's location. It pings in a small town right outside of Star City.

He sends Barry a private message. His friend is already on the way to the location. He'll get the boy in a few seconds.

"How much for a box of chocolate chips? Those are my favorite." Bruce tells the boy, voice whimsical as his Brucie persona demands.

In an unsure tone, the boy pauses, then whispers, "I don't know. No one ever let me get this far."

"How about twenty for a box of dozen? I'll buy five boxes for each of my kids that live at him," Bruce tells him, and the boy gasps.

"That could buy me one whole night in a hotel!"

Bruce's insides freeze. What did he mean-

"Hey! No! Let go!" Danny suddenly screams. Bruce's heart launches- he hates it when kids get hurt, especially those that sound like Danny- until Barry's voice comes over the speaker.

"I got him, Mr. Wayne. Thank you for alerting the Justice League Hotline." That's code for This is not a threat to you Batman and Bruce allows himself to relax just a little.

"Narc!" The boy shouts, outraged, before the call drops. Barry is likely taking over the situation, which means Bruce can leave it in his capable hands.

After reassuring his kids that he is fine and that they are all safe, he suits up and meets the Flash in the Watch Tower. There, he learns that Danny is only seven years old and has been living on the streets for a while.

The boy had been surviving by baking some cookies to sell on the side of the street- where did he bake them? The boy would not say- until he got the bright idea to try to sell through phone calls like he had seen on TV.

He punched in random numbers at the community center phone and gave his pitch about a star, thinking people would be more willing to buy from him if he had an excellent reason.

Barry had left him with CPS, but he looked devastated about that. It turned out that Danny was a meta and had likely been kicked out of his home once it was found out based on what he said of his parents.

Bruce felt he should assure Barry that Danny was fine and look into his placement to help settle his more sensitive teammate's nerves.

He was unhappy that Danny was not in a good placement; there were far too many reports from a concerned neighbor to make him think it was a safe place. Given the fact that placement had a lot of meta kids that "fell through the cracks," Bruce worried he had just stumbled across a trafficking ring.

He would sick Barry and Jason on them. Just to ensure they wouldn't see the light of day again.

Still, that did not fix his mistake with Danny, the little cookie seller.

Bruce hacked into the system to move Danny. He thought about where he would move the young child but ultimately had him in Wayne Manor.

Just until he could confirm that he would be safe. He certainly didn't think about the adorable little boy who called him with his heart in his hand and got sent to a terrible place for three weeks because of Bruce.

Danny arrived at Wayne Manor with a happy little bounce and a chipper outlook on life than Bruce was expecting. "If it isn't Mr. Narc!"

God, he going to adopt the boy, isn't he?

(Danny has been thrown into a different universe, aged down to a child. He survived by overshadowing people into letting him spend the night baking cookies.

He was thrown into a somewhat typical home, but the nosy neighbor down the street took far too much notice of his overshadowing, and now he was being moved again.

Maybe he can terrorize Mr. Narc now instead? )

[willowser]

really what prompted my double boy dad bakugou post was the idea of his older son — who is six, nearing seven — coming out of his room with messy, sleep-mussed hair and wandering into the kitchen on an early morning when katsuki's getting ready for work.

and your youngest is a little terror. spoiled rotten, katsuki thinks, was too babied and that's why he doesn't listen and has temper tantrums in the middle of the floor and is already throwing punches at three. katsuki's old witch of a mother thinks he'll be bulkier than his older son and twice as mean, prone to pinning his brother to the ground until he's declared the greatest.

(katsuki feels both horror and pride, at the very thought.)

it hasn't always been easy for your oldest; becoming a big brother never is. not that katsuki would know what that's like, but he hated to even share a playground with deku, much less share his one and only mommy, so he can only imagine what his own son went through when his brother arrived.

but he's been great about it, which comes as no surprise because his oldest has always been great about everything. gets his little brother out of bed and reminds him of his manners—even as he's getting whacked—gives up his toys just so the baby won't cry. he's too smart for his own good, acting like a big boy now—and it makes katsuki nostalgic in a way that hurts.

there hasn't been a lot of time for just the two of them. not like there used to be.

so when his firstborn comes to stand beside him in the kitchen, to lean his head against his dad's hip and rub at his sleepy eyes—katsuki just ruffles his already messy hair, before giving his ear a little tug.

"should be asleep," he grumbles to him, "sun's not even up yet."

his son only shrugs, yawns hard; despite this, he says, "'m not tired."

katsuki snorts and continues with his routine: finishes his protein shake, gives the kid a sip when he thinks he wants one (he doesn't really, though he tries not to make a face at the taste as he nods, as if he likes it), makes sure he's got all his work shit in his bag for patrol later. and his son is mostly quiet, content to share in the morning just between the two of them after katsuki sits him on the counter.

and then he asks, "can i come to work with you?"

on instinct, katsuki glances at his shut bedroom door, where you're still fast asleep, on the other side, and then down the hallway to where his youngest is sleeping, too.

technically, the kid probably could because you're off work today, and you could come pick him up later before katsuki has to head out, but—

"your brother won't be happy if i take you and not him."

and your oldest is a good big brother. has more patience than katsuki ever did, knows how to share—but on this morning that the two of them are indulging in, he only shrugs.

"well," he sighs—and he sounds so grown up, sounds like you when you're leveling with katsuki. "if he wanted to go then he should have got up, too."

"that why you're awake?" katsuki frowns, though his son only shrugs again. the idea that he's gotten up way too early, at the ass-crack of dawn just to have some extra time with his dad is too—

"yeah," katsuki murmurs, nodding at him to hop off the counter. "get your socks on so we can go."

there won't be anything for him to do in the agency office, besides get an endless amount of cups of water from the dispenser and all the candy in the receptionist's bowl and attention from the older ladies that thinks he's just so stinking cute.

but at least they'll be together, just the two of them. like old times.

[scarlet-bitch]

Her Perfume's Holding Me Ransom  

4k words, Office Siren - Steve Harrington X fem!reader, 18+, MDNI, set in '88 Steve aged up accordingly, no use of y/n & no physical descriptions apart from clothing/makeup, no mention of upside down. A/N: Recently watched Henry Gamble's Birthday Party, so had to piggy back off the dialogue from that opening scene! Fic inspo songs: No Control, Espresso, Bed Chem, Jackie & Wilson Feedback/likes/reblogs are all greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading & as always, I hope you enjoy! XO, Scarlet 💋

A year ago, Steve Harrington traded his Family Video vest for a blazer when his father hired him. The transition was rocky but with help from receptionist Shirley, he earned his father's respect and even his own office. Then Shirley announced her retirement, and in came her replacement: you. With cherry red lips and nails that matched, you strode into the office like a siren, and Steve wasn't immune to your charm. 

"Lost My Senses, I'm Defenseless"

Steve was always one to pride himself on his ability to stay focused, but you tested that the moment you walked through the door. You were the type of beautiful that prompted a double take. Pair that with your naturally sweet and helpful demeanor, and it was a recipe for disaster.

Every time he tried to concentrate on his work, you would appear at his door with another offer of assistance. While you were just doing your job, it was a tantalizing interruption. He suddenly found himself stumbling over tasks and struggling to concentrate, just like when he first started. 

Your arrival didn't just effect him, it had turned the heads of everyone. Suddenly the break room became reminiscent of high school, where the guys' suggestive remarks about you made his skin crawl.  The worst part? Sometimes he thought them too. Like every time you asked him questions, all he could focus on was the plumpness of your pouty lips and how pretty they would look wrapped around —fuck. He didn't want to be that guy, and yet these thoughts constantly crept into his mind.

But sometimes, an even worse thought would cross Steve's mind: that you were taunting him on purpose. Because yes, since your arrival, nearly everyone had focused on you, but it seemed like you were focused on him. That's ridiculous though, right? Of course, it is. He should be ashamed of himself for even entertaining the idea.

And yet, he kept going back to it.

Steve couldn't help but notice you made a habit of bending over when you were around him. Whether it was your cleavage or your backside, every day you were giving him a view. The first few times it happened, he looked away, but curiosity got the best of him when it began to feel more than coincidental. He hasn’t stopped since, often looking forward to it.

Every week when you handed him the new reports, he couldn't get over how you managed to make the exchange of a manila envelope seem seductive; batting your lashes, grazing his fingertips. You constantly had him rocking a semi, and it all felt calculated.

The biggest factor in it all was your fucking perfume. The lingering scent of warm vanilla would continue to flood his senses even when you returned to your desk. Your scent had him under a spell, making his mind wander to places it shouldn't: Your nails raking down his chest. You soothing the marks they'd leave behind with your kiss, lipstick print scattered across his skin. Your soft voice telling him he's doing a good job, just as you always do, but this time, you wouldn't be talking about work. Steve scolded himself for these thoughts, but only after he'd had his fist wrapped around his cock.

Three months had passed since you'd disrupted Steve's routine. The decline in his productivity was obvious. After a heated one sided argument, his father concluded, "I don't mean to be a hard ass, Steven, but there's no exceptions. If it were any other employee, I wouldn't let it slide! I just don't get it. You'd come so far... Maybe I underestimated Shirley's role in your success."

Steve couldn't admit to his dad that you were the real cause of his current predicament. If you were dating, or even fucking he'd feel less embarrassed but the thought of confessing that he'd let mere attraction derail his progress felt pathetic. In his entire life, no one had ever captured his attention like this. 

Steve knew he had to turn things around. He pinpointed the exact moment in every day that his focus goes off track: between 9:30 and 10a.m. When you made your first appearance, traipsing into his office with coffee.

While you delivered coffee to everyone -with them, it was a quick drop off. With Steve, it was never just about the coffee.

Your other check ins with him throughout the day were short and strictly work related, but this visit was always more personal and drawn out. It might have derailed his focus for the day, but it was also a highlight for him.

That’s why, as you walked in swaying your hips with coffee in your hand, Steve made sure to really take in the sight because it had to be the last time. 

“Mornin' Stevie,” you said, bending forward slightly, just enough to give him his favorite view as you placed the cup on his desk.

Steve sucked a breath in through gritted teeth. “Good morning.” He said, forcing his attention away from you and back on the paperwork on his desk.

You straightened up. “Did ya have a good weekend?” 

“It was alright,” he said, struggling to keep his eyes from drifting back to you. He stared at the paperwork in front of him. Focus. 

“Glad to hear it,” you replied.

Steve immediately regretted his choice of words. Normally, he would’ve engaged in conversation, the two of you exchanging playful banter with that slight undertone of flirtation that made his heart flutter. He thought it best to hold back today, but he didn’t mean to come off so cold.

“How ‘bout you?” he asked, looking back up at you. He couldn’t help it —if he was going to cut this moment short, he had to at least be present. And was he happy he did, you were just so pretty, his mouth fell slack, and he had to force it closed so he wouldn’t drool. 

“Yeah, good.” You said with a small, half smile. 

Steve felt his stomach drop at your answer -guess you’d taken the hint. He wished he had just let today play out as usual and given himself one last drawn out conversation with you. But he's come this far, might as well see it through. 

“That’s.. nice.” Nice? The word felt weak, insufficient. 

"Mhmm." You nodded, a hint of disappointment in your eyes. “Need help with anything particular this morning?” 

"Uh, no, I do-don't think so.” 

"Well if you think of anything, you know where to find me.” You said, as you turned on your heels to leave his office. 

As he watched you head out, it dawned on him that in his efforts to not let you derail his focus, he didn’t even thank you for the coffee. 

“Thanks, by the way!” he called out. 

You stopped in your tracks at the door, turning around with a smirk on your lips. "Alway’s my pleasure. Even when you’re... moody? Or whatever this is today." 

Steve couldn't contain the grin that spread across his lips. There was the banter that he adored. “Sorry. Just a bit distracted is all. These deadlines have me stressed.”

“Well, I could always help you relieve that stress if you’d like.” You leaned against the doorframe. 

Steve’s heart raced. Were you suggesting what he thought you were, or was that just wishful thinking? He could have sworn you winked, and the way you licked your lips —was his mind playing tricks? He hesitated to respond, undure what to say. 

“Y’know, take some of the workload off your hands, or I could always bring tea instead of coffee. It’s supposed to be calming or whatever.” 

Right, of course you weren’t suggesting anything else. 

Steve let out a slight chuckle, trying to play it cool. “No, no, it’s fine. I’m just whining, but thank you.” He wanted to leave it at that, but you had just handed him a perfect opportunity to finalize his decision. “As for the tea, I um, yeah I-I think I just need to cut caffeine out entirely. It, uh, it makes me jittery. So going forward, you don’t need to bring me anything in the morning.”

You raised an eyebrow, “You sure?”

"Uh, yeah, for now at least." Steve noticed the amused look on your face, as if you could see right through his lie. You simply shook your head and strutted back to your desk.

He let out a relieved sigh -the hardest part was over. He moved to the window, flinging it open to dispel the sweetness of your presence that your fragrance left. Then he grabbed the "Please Do Not Disturb" sign Shirley had given him when he got his office. The thought of spending the rest of the day without seeing you was a blow, but he didn't have much of a choice. 

“Soft Skin & I Perfumed It For Ya" 

This wasn’t some grand scheme. You needed a job, and they were hiring. You had no idea it was his father’s company, let alone that he’d be working here.

It’s not like you ever knew him. If you recall correctly, there may have been a brief interaction at a party, but all you actually knew were the rumors. You attended Hawkins High's rival school, and at every away game in Hawkins, the talk was always about Steve Harrington. When you realized he would be your colleague, you decided to up the ante. After all, you're an opportunist —curious to find out if those rumors were true.

Now roles are reversed, and all the talk is about you. You don’t mind what anyone's saying -crude or not, you couldn’t blame them. You've brought a little spice to the mundane duties of clerical work. What you do mind is that, from what you could tell, Steve wasn't engaging. While it’s nice to think he’s above objectifying women, it’s exactly his attention you were after. 

As you settled into the office's routine, you realized that you did in fact have an effect on Steve. He was just good at concealing it. So you began to make your intentions more obvious: offering cheeky views, lingering touches, flirty banter. You wanted him, and you wanted him to know that. 

Earlier, you were a little more outright with your behavior than you ever had been. Truth be told, you'd almost offered to blow him right there, but you chose to be allusive.  And while the look on his face implied he knew exactly what you were getting at, you backtracked. Hindsight’s 20/20 and you regret not giving him a chance to respond. Maybe if you had, instead of daydreaming about it, you'd actually be experiencing his pretty eyes staring down at you while his oversized cock -if those rumors were true-  was hitting the back of your throat. You needed him.

But as you marched your way to his office, you were stopped in your tracks as you spotted his door shut with a "Please Do Not Disturb" sign —and it stayed there the whole damn day. 

So the next day as you strolled into work, you were on a mission. One that quickly got derailed when that god forsaken sign was once again on Steve's door. 

Later that morning, during your coffee deliveries, a light bulb went off when you reached Laura's desk. As you set her coffee down, you noticed the stack of folders with a note from Steve asking for her to work on them. 

"Laura, I have a pretty clear schedule. Why don't I take these off your hands?" you offered.

"Oh dear, that would be fantastic, if you wouldn't mind! I wasn't sure why he didn't ask you originally, Shirley always helped with this... not that I mind but I still have a whole other stack to go through for James.” 

While this was an absolutely self serving offer you were happy you could actually be of assistance. "Gladly! It's no trouble at all!" You expressed, whilst grabbing the folders, and heading back to your desk.

You could guess exactly why Steve didn't ask you. It was clear yesterday, when he was practically drooling, all flustered as he told you the caffeine’s getting to him. All of these things, as well as that damn sign that’s taken perch on his door were pretty good indicators that Steve was struggling to resist your temptation. You had him right where you wanted him.

"Maybe it's all in my head...."

Steve heard a knock at his door.

"Come in," he said, eyes still focused on the work in front of him. He looked up only when he heard the familiar click of your heels against the tile. There you were walking towards him carrying the stack of folders he gave Laura. 

"Hey..."

"Good afternoon," you replied smoothly, setting the folders on the edge of his desk and taking a seat across from him. You crossed your legs slowly, making Steve's eyes follow every movement. The flush on his cheeks was unmistakable as his eyes roamed your figure. 

"You alright, Steve?” 

"Oh yeah, I was just expecting Laura," 

You shrugged with a playful smile. "Well, here I am. Laura had a lot on her plate, so l took these off her hands." Leaning forward slightly, you rested your elbows on his desk. "Why didn't you ask me for help anyway?"

Steve shifted in his chair, tapping his pen nervously. "She's familiar with this. I wasn't sure if you were."

You leaned back, crossing your arms against your chest, making Steve's breath hitch as your position emphasized your breasts. "Have a little faith in me, Steve. Besides, I need to learn, and I'm best when I'm hands on," you said, drawing out the words with a whisper as your lips curled into a smirk.

Steve felt his cock hardening, he just couldn't help it, you were utterly arousing without even trying. Pull it together. He looked towards the folders, nodding. "I'll check them over."

"Great," you said, standing and smoothing out your skirt. "I'm gonna grab a snack. Want anything?"

"No, I'm good, thanks.” 

Steve studied the folders until your return, about five minutes later. He could have sworn he heard the click of the lock when you shut the door, but chose not to question it as took your seat across from him once more.

"So, how’d they look?" you asked, peeling the banana you got.

Steve glanced back down at the folder he was reviewing. "Yeah, everything's in order. Good job."

"See? You shouldn't doubt me.”

Steve laughed softly and looked up at you. "Never again-"

His words were cut off as you slowly brought the banana to your lips. He watched as you wrapped your lips around the fruit, holding eye contact. You let your lips rest for a moment, hollowing your cheeks with a slight suck before taking a bite. Steve's gaze moved from your mouth to your eyes, as a groan escaped him. 

You giggled, “Wanna taste?”

"You're unbelievable," Steve chuckled. "To think I've been questioning if this was all in my head."

You tossed the rest of the banana into the trash. "I thought I was being obvious enough. Didn't realize all I needed was a visual aid for you to catch on."

Steve shrugged, a wry smile on his lips. "I caught on weeks ago, just seemed too good to be true."

"It's not," you said, rising and moving toward him.

Steve's eyes widened as you dropped to your knees in front of him. A breathy moan escaping him as you settled between his legs, your hands resting gently on his thighs.

"Let me take care of you," you whispered seductively. "Relieve all that stress."

"Honey, you're the cause," Steve mused. "You've never even touched me, and I haven't been able to focus on anything but you. I can only imagine how distracted I'll be once you do."

You let out a laugh, the sweetest sound Steve had ever heard. "Mmm, quite the contrary. It's all this pent up tension we have that's got you so distracted.”

Goddammit. You looked so eager, so tempting as you bat your lashes at him. He cupped your face with his right hand, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. You opened your mouth slightly, and he couldn't resist sliding his thumb in to press flat against your tongue. You took a soft suck, and the guttural sound that escaped him only encouraged you. You hollowed your cheeks before slowly sliding off with a pop. Steve shuddered at the feeling, and a smirk settled on your face. 

Within an instant his hands moved to unbuckle his belt. You slid your right hand further up his thigh, moving it to palm the outline of his cock.

"Aghhh," he groaned as he went to unbutton his pants. Just before he could unzip them, the phone rang, startling both of you.

Steve glanced at the clock. "Fuck," he muttered. "What time was that call, today?" 

You put your palm over your mouth, giggling as you stumbled to stand up. "Now." 

Steve's hand went to pinch the bridge of his nose as he breathed in, trying to regain some composure before he answered. 

You leaned forward, whispering into his ear, ”Tell your daddy I said hi," and nipped his earlobe gently before turning toward the door.

Steve grabbed your wrist, turning you back to face him. 

“I think you're going to be the death of me." He groaned. 

“Oh Steve, you have no idea," you said with a wink as you walked out of his office.

"How You're Looking At Me, Yeah I Know What That Means" 

Your desk felt like a prison. The ache between your thighs unrelenting as you kept replaying the look on Steve's face when you sunk to your knees. You were plagued by the unfinished business, taunted by the tick of the clock moving slowly toward 5p.m.

At a quarter til 5, you saw Steve making his way toward your desk, casting a quick glance around the emptiness of the front of the office. 

“Hey,” he said. “Can I borrow you? I need some help with some... filing. Might keep you after a bit, if you don’t mind staying a little late.”

"Laura can't help?” You teased.

Steve chuckled, rolling his eyes before they locked back on yours. “This requires your.... expertise.” 

You raised an eyebrow, “Well if that's the case, I guess I can make it work."

Steve smirked as he stepped closer, the look in his eyes was clear —he was going to fuck you. "I promise it'll be worth your time.” He whispered. 

Without another word you stood up from your desk, and followed him to his office. 

"Are You Free Next Week? I Bet We'd Have Really Good Bed Chem" 

All bets were off when Steve closed his office door. Your arms wrapped around his neck, and his hands gripped your waist as your mouths collided fervently.

His lips were soft and plush, his tongue teasing yours as you opened your mouth.

You tasted like the cherry life savers you kept at your desk, and Steve couldn't get enough. "Want you so fucking bad," He said between the breaths of your kiss.

You responded with a moan as his lips trailed across your jaw, burying his face in your neck. He groaned as the scent of your perfume enveloped him while he sucked softly at your skin.

You began tearing off his blazer, clawing at his dress shirt to grip his firm biceps, as his lips found yours again. 

When Steve pulled back, he was a sight to behold. Your lipstick smeared across his mouth, his eyes glistening —almost in tears from the strain of his cock. It was clear he needed this as much as you.

By next week the two of you will savor each other for hours. His lips will trail down your body, appreciating every inch. He'll have you writhing on his tongue as he tastes you, not just for your pleasure but for his own. His skin will bear the marks or your lipstick, love bites and scratches, as you stake your claim. You’ll take him into your mouth, where he will cum down your throat before he fucks you. When he finally slides into your pussy, he'll make you cum repeatedly on his cock until you can't take anymore, begging for him to fill you. Hair slicked with sweat, voices raspy and breaths panting, it will be nothing short of perfection. But this moment, here and now, with the slight implication that you could be caught, will be a fast, but fulfilling need for release. 

"Raincheck on-?" 

Steve cut you off, nodding profusely, "How do you want it?" 

"Take me from behind. Been dreaming of you bending me over that desk." 

Steve groaned pulling you into another kiss, before he moved you towards his desk. He pulled out a condom from his wallet, before he began to undo his pants. Your eyes trained on his hand's movements until he freed his cock, boxers and slacks falling around his knees.  

Steve chuckled when you let out a gasp. The rumors were true, Harrington's hung.

Thankful you'd opted for no tights today, you slid down your panties and turned to bend over the desk. Steve groaned at the view, your plaid skirt framing your ass as he spread you apart, taking in the sight of your dripping pussy. You looked more than ready for him, but he needed to be sure. He ran two fingers through your folds, gently pumping them into you.

You slapped your hand on the desk at the feeling, muffling the moans that were leaving you with your other hand. 

"Ahh shit," Steve growled. 

"Please, Steve, give it to me," you begged.

You didn't have to ask him twice. He rolled the condom over his cock, and lined himself up thrusting into you forcefully. He didn't offer you time to adjust but the initial pain quickly melted into pleasure. Steve couldn't contain himself, whispers of how good you felt falling from his tongue. 

"Harder Steve, harder, harder," you pleaded, trying your best to keep your voice to a whisper.

He obliged, his hands firm on your hips as he thrust relentlessly. After a few breathy moans from both of you, he slipped his right hand between you and the desk, fingers finding your clit.

You had to stifle a shriek at the dual stimulation, gripping the desk tightly, your ribs colliding with the wood, sure to leave bruises that you'd admire later. 

"Do you like that, baby?" Steve whispered.

"Yes," you moaned. "Fuck, yeah, yes, s'really like that."

"Fuuuuuck. Are ya free this weekend? Wanna take you out."

"Mhmm."

“Gonna fuck you properly after," he groaned. "You're so fucking beautiful, can't wait to see all of you.

His words brought you closer to your release, and he could feel it. "Fuck, baby, are you about to cum?"

"Y-yes."

"Me too," he whimpered.

"Sweet & Sour, Heart Devoured"

Turn’s out, you'd been right —it was all that pent up tension. After your first hookup, Steve’s focus immediately returned.

Your coffee exchanges resumed, but the drawn out moments were no longer necessary now that you were spending time together outside of work.

That "DND" sign was tucked away and forgotten until two months later, when he considered offering you a special birthday treat -an afternoon delight. But you both knew better than to hook up at work again.

At Thanksgiving, Steve and you stopped keeping your relationship to yourselves when he invited you to spend it with his family. You were apprehensive about his father's reaction, but it wasn't an issue. In truth, it wouldn't have mattered to Steve if it had been. Had his father disapproved, and insisted it couldn't continue, Steve would have quit without hesitation. 

Steve had fallen for you, and looking back, he realized it was inevitable. It took one glance for you to captivate his attention, so of course the more time spent together, he'd hand over his heart.

Now all the times you lay tangled in his sheets, your fingers running through his hair, and "Baby" softly falling from your lips —he reflects on the moment you agreed you'd be the death of him.

Because in those moments, he couldn’t think of a better way to go.

[springwitch26]

hots for teacher (melissa schemmenti x fem!reader)

part 2

summary: you've been infatuated with melissa schemmenti ever since you worked under her as a student teacher. what will happen when you meet again a few years later?

warnings: NSFW content, implied future smut (part 2 on the way??), praise kink, age gap idk

notes: hi everyone! my name is april, and this is my first ever fanfiction. i wrote this for fun and then decided to share it with the community, because i love the little gay women in my phone! i've been reading fics on tumblr for as long as i've been on the internet, so this is a strange experience for me. anyway, enjoy, and let me know what you guys think!

tonight you looked sexy, and you knew it. you wore a sinfully short black dress with colorful butterflies. it was one of your favorites; it showed just the right amount and hugged just the right places to be tantalizing. your eyes were painted with thin black wings and soft, glittery eyeshadow that made you look like a sweet dream. your lips glistened and your hair was tied up in two dutch braids. you were a vision.

all this meant that you were not the least bit surprised when a deep, sultry female voice sounded from behind where you sat at the bar.

"it should be illegal to look like that in public."

you smiled coyly and turned around to face the stranger.

"why? see something you like?" when you turned to face her, however, you were met with a familiar face. it was a face you'd seen in your dreams time after time: your former boss, melissa schemmenti.

you had been assigned to work with melissa as a student teacher while you were in school for your teaching certification. at the time, she was teaching two grades simultaneously, so she was grateful to have you there to ease the burden. it didn't hurt that you were always so eager to please. you wanted to learn and become the best teacher you could be.

of course, your motives weren't entirely pure. you were attracted to melissa from the moment you saw her. you remembered it like it was yesterday: her flaming red hair was slightly messy from trying to wrangle her double class, and her glasses sat askew on her nose. then you came along and turned everything around. she would give you to-do lists, and you would finish them before lunchtime the same day.

"great job, hon! you're so good, don't know what i'd do without you..." she'd say each time, beaming with pride at her new prodigee.

"o-of course, ms. schemmenti. what else can i do for you?" you'd respond, blushing profusely at the praise and struggling to hold her intense gaze.

within a week of having you, melissa was caught up on all her work. she couldn't help but feel like you were an angel, or some kind of gift from god. whatever you were, she cherished you. as the two of you spent more time together, she started to want you more and more. every project, every conversation, every smile you two shared only added to your chemistry.

she had fun with it--teasing you with special pet names and praise, watching you get all flustered and squirmy. she knew you liked her back. you weren't the most subtle about your desire.

melissa would never act on her feelings, though. you were a doe-eyed twenty-something with big dreams, and she was your much older boss. getting involved with you would be too messy. but she always held out hope, even after you left abbott, that one day you'd meet again.

you studied melissa's sly smirk for a moment, in disbelief at your luck. it had been two years since you left abbott. you had your own big girl job now, and you were a bit more mature. there was nothing stopping you from acting on your desires.

"oh my god, ms. schemmenti! please, have a drink with me. it's been a while." you hoped you didn't sound too desperate, although you definitely looked desperate once you got a good glance at her.

her look was striking. your breath hitched in your throat as you scanned her form, dressed in red leather pants and a button-down shirt. her arms were visibly muscled, even through the jacket. the black button-down shirt she wore was unbuttoned just enough to tease her cleavage. around her waist was a thick black belt that you wanted to pull on. her fiery hair was tied back haphazardly in a high ponytail, just messy enough to be sexy. and her hands—god, her fingers were long and ringed and—

"whatever you say, kid," she shrugged and sat down next to you, giving you a playful smile. "and you can call me melissa now."

she had a mischievous glint in her eye, probably knowing how you felt just by the wanton way you stared at her. when she sat down beside you, you felt your whole body heat up. your thighs were almost touching from the proximity, and you could smell her intoxicating perfume with each inhale. feeling her body so close to yours had you more drunk than the alcohol. it didn't help that her eyes now roamed over your body shamelessly, taking in your glistening lips and lingering on your soft cleavage. you tried your best to play it cool.

you talked for a while, catching up on everything. you told her about your new job at a suburban elementary school, your volunteer tutoring on the weekends, your summers in the mountains. she beamed with pride hearing of your accomplishments.

"that's great, y/n! sounds like you're goin' places."

"thank you! i think i owe a lot of my success to my student teaching experience—everyone at abbott was great, including you. especially you," you looked at her with an intense gaze, feeling your desire catch up with you.

"you were such a passionate mentor. you just had this way of getting me excited..." you trailed off as you fixated on the stirrings of a smirk on her face.

"...excited about learning," you finished shakily.

"mm-hmm," she chuckled.

maybe it was the alcohol, or the simple fact that she was right next to you and seemingly devouring you with her eyes, but you became bolder then. you only had one shot at this.

"i mean, you really touched me in a way that nobody else could," you leaned in, dragging out your syllables for emphasis. "i worked so hard because i just needed to be good for you."

now she was the one shuddering. you had the upper hand, if only for a moment. but she quickly got her boldness back.

"i noticed that. always so bright and attentive. i bragged to all the other teachers about what a good girl you were." to top it all off, she punctuated her sentence by placing her hand firmly on your knee.

you thought you were going to explode right then and there. your skin erupted in goosebumps at her touch, and you spread your legs ever so slightly to indicate your consent. her face split into a smug grin and she began to crawl her fingers up your thigh, agonizingly slowly.

your response came as a shaky whisper. you were sure you must have soaked through your panties just from her teasing touches.

"it's good to know that you thought so highly of me. i looked up to you a lot," you said sheepishly. "um, i'm a bit embarrassed to admit it, but i did have a bit of a crush on you..."

"oh, yeah. that doesn't surprise me. don't be embarrassed, hon. you can't help what you feel," her hand had stalled at the midpoint of your thigh, and she looked at you with sincerity.

"it doesn't surprise you?" you asked, struggling to get the words out once she resumed stroking your thigh.

"i had my suspicions," she said with a knowing smirk. "i'm sharper than i look, ya know."

her darkened eyes sent shivers down your spine. you felt your core heat up at the humiliation of knowing she knew exactly what you thought about her.

"am i that obvious?" you asked, somewhat breathily.

"oh, sweetheart," she laughed. she leaned in close and you could smell her perfume, feel the warmth of her breath on your skin. her fingers pinched the skin of your thigh as she whispered to you. "you sat five feet away from me for months, always wearin' those little black skirts. you think i didn't see you rub your thighs together every time i gave you praise?"

her hand now caressed your inner thigh softly, teasingly. you failed to respond, trying to process her words but finding yourself unable to do anything but whimper almost silently.

"so soft here. mhmm," she husked into your ear. there was a hint of giddiness in her voice, as if she was pleased with herself for taking you apart so easily. "does that feel good, princess? do you like it when i touch you?"

"yes!" you said, almost too loudly for the public setting. "yes, i like it very much."

"good," she whispered as her fingers found the edge of your panties. your thighs spread even wider, and you let out a small gasp.

"we've got lots more to catch up on, don't we?" she continued, her fingers drawing feather-light circles over your clit through the fabric. you wondered if she could feel you throbbing for her. your hips bucked up to meet her hand, and she slapped your thigh in warning. "if you wanna keep talkin', we can head back to mine..."

you turned to her with big, glazed-over eyes. still whimpering, you nodded rapidly, earning a laugh from the older woman. she grabbed your hand and guided you out of the packed bar.

"i'm gonna wreck you, hon," she mumbled without looking back at you.

[chronic-escapixt]

Longing

post-merge!Kai x f!reader

content warnings/tags ~ Minors DNI, 18+ ONLY, Dark fiction, yandere, stalking, magical drugging, Kai's POV

summary ~ Kai develops an obsession with the first person to show that they care about him

Our story starts with the day that I died. Well - technically I didn’t ‘die’. But I almost did. I could feel it for weeks now: non-stop nosebleeds and night sweats turned into something much more serious than I wanted to admit. 

I could barely stand up straight when I finally dragged myself to my dear sister, Josette’s apartment. I had to swallow a lot of pride coming here. Since the make-shift merge granted me my own magic (sorry little brother) , I thought I’d never have to ask anything from any of them again, yet here I am.

Doubled over, clutching my abdomen, where every one of my failing organs fights over which can kill me the fastest, having rang the doorbell for the second time.

That’s when I hear a sweet voice behind me.

“Hey, are you alright?”

I don’t move or even respond at first because there’s no way she’s talking to me.

Then I feel her step closer, “sir..”

That’s when I turn and notice the micro-expression of shock on her face as she glimpses my sunken features and sickly pallor. Oddly enough, she doesn’t recoil away from me. She’s more concerned than anything.

“I don’t mean to sound like a stalker but I just saw you struggle the whole way up the stairs. Do you need an ambulance or could I call someone?”

She’s beautiful, okay.. like a major babe. Making it all the more embarrassing when I trip through my words. I should excuse myself because I feel lightheaded and socially deprived doesn’t even begin to describe the last two decades of my life, but I find myself flustered.

“Are you okay?” she repeats slower. She genuinely cared about my wellbeing even though it didn't benefit her at all.

I snap out of it. “yeah.. I’m fine.. just here to see my sister. She’s a doctor, so I’m hoping she can work her magic on me.. so to speak..” I try to straighten my posture, but my shoulders sag right back down pathetically. 

“Oh! You’re Jo’s brother?” 

“Yeah, we’re super close.. we’re twins actually.” 

She gives me a weird look then laughs out loud, “you’re funny.” I force a short chuckle at the expense of my aching ribcage.

It’s just like Jo to interrupt our conversation when she finally answers her door for me. 

“Kai?” she looks me over. “What’s going on?”

“Well, I thought I’d visit you since im not feeling the greatest and your neighbor here was kind enough to check on me.”

“Y/N?”

She greets Jo with a smile then turns to me.

“It was nice meeting you, Kai.” I could've died happy in that moment, watching her lips form the sounds of my name.

She continued, “I really hope you feel better and maybe I’ll see you around.”

I watched her disappear into that apartment of hers. Apartment B25, on the right side across from Jo’s. I’d learn it had a balcony that I could view from the storefront of the coffee joint across the street. 

My smile left my face when I turned back to my sister. For once in our lives, Jo actually helped me. It turns out I just needed her magic, the missing piece to complete the merge. 

Days went by and, my body felt better than ever, but my chest still felt achy. Like a weird gnawing right behind my sternum that bothered me at night and kept me up with sad thoughts. Ever since that weird crying fiasco, I started using the internet to look up these feelings I experienced based on my symptoms. Apparently, I was feeling longing.

I couldn’t ignore it for long, especially not when my memories of her face became hazy. I couldn’t remember if she had a beauty mark on her right or left cheek or that precise shade of hazel in her eyes. 

She became my obsession where all I could think about was the next time I could be around her. More and more I wanted to possess her. Keep her all to myself like a selfish child with their favorite toy. 

I learned her schedule and spent countless afternoons at that coffee shop across the street watching her come home after her classes. I found reasons, any reason at all to be in her building just so I could talk to her. 

I even told her I was a chemistry major just so I could finally get through the threshold of her apartment and smell the space permeated with her lovely cinamony scent. We’d sit together on her floor and I helped her study for her upcoming exam. Chemistry is surprisingly similar to alchemy and potions.

I’d watch her lips when she drunk her favorite cappuccino when we met up for coffee, my eyes never leaving the sight of the frothy milk left on her upper lip. 

I planned a murder when her out-of-state boyfriend decided to come visit her. Brock? Bruce? It doesn’t really matter because I made sure that asshole was out of her life for good. He was a douche anyway and she’s too pure for someone like him. It didn’t take me long to realize he was cheating on her. It wasn’t messy. I took a more refined approach and melted his brain with a simple spell before sending her every screenshot and the most brutal heartbreaking words I could think of sent from his cellphone.

Then I was her shoulder to cry on. I was the one that reassured her that she was enough. She was more than enough. She was perfect. 

I grew tired of watching her agonize over a shitty dead guy, making everything about him. So one night, when I got her drinks from the bar, I muttered a short spell to make a little potion to put her to sleep. I carried her home with me and tucked her into bed before climbing in next to her and pulling her into my chest. That gnawing was finally gone. No longer longing. I felt something else, but I didn’t care to google it because it felt so good I just wanted to enjoy it in the moment. I kissed her forehead and softly told my sleeping beauty that she was mine. 

And I’m never letting her go.

@daisy-renae @quinsly @ditzyzombiesblog

Taglist

[unnamed-axolotl]

HAAANDSS I've always prided myself on being able to draw them so HERES A FUN LITTLE THINGY I DID!!! Tried to get a good variety of hands here. With the humans, ranging from young child to older child to adult, plus a couple of skin tones and features. Then with the animatronics, what the difference is between a harshly-put-together robot vs. an actually well-put-together animatronic.

(AND AS A BONUS their handwriting and how I think they'd draw smilies!!!!)

HEADCANONS UNDER THE CUT, written in the order I drew them in, not the order they appear.

I started with Michael. I was originally going to make him a lot more worn out, but just kept it simple probably for the sake of my sanity. A good few scars from the stuff he's went through. He probably has rather good handwriting because he's had a lot of practice both with legal documents and probably journaling. (Not really taking into account the Logbook here. It totally wasn't because I don't know what his handwriting looks like off the top of my head and was too lazy to get out of bed and get the book to reference.) He does a pretty generic smiley face, too.

Cassie was next. I don't really draw human hands with fingernails a lot so that was a challenge. The idea here was to make a hand that was that of an older kid, but obviously not as big or with fingers as long as Michael's are, for example. I played with her skin tone for a little bit, and I'm not too experienced with working in color, so please do let me know if there's anything I can improve upon when I do darker skin tones in the future! I was trying to get that lighter tone on her underhand but wasn't too positive about it. I also gave her some funky little bracelets, one of which is a direct copy of a bracelet that my lovely friend (@masquayla-the-splendid) for me. Cassie probably has fairly decent handwriting and definitely dots her i's with hearts when she writes her name. She tries to make the smiley faces look cute.

Evan's turn! I headcanon Evan to be much younger, so I made his hands smaller and stubbier. He's pretty pale because of the whole dying thing, and he's got some freckles and moles, sort of inspired by my own hand in a way! I've got little moles everywhere so I figured I'd incorporate that into his design, partly as a way to add more flair to an otherwise plain base. Other than that, not much going on here. He's got messier handwriting because he's a kid, and in my AU he didn't really get to go to school for all that long, so his siblings probably taught him how to write before he died. The brain damage probably doesn't help much either. He's trying his best.

For Sun and Moon, initially I couldn't decide which one of the two to color. As I was making the base I was thinking pretty hard about it, but ultimately figured out that I could probably just split it down the middle, and it worked! I've been trying to give the Daycare Attendants longer fingers to reflect how their hands look in the games. I couldn't make their hands too big because it either looked stupid to me or took up too much space, so I settled with this. I also gave them little scratches on their fingerpads. Sun and Moon have different signatures, with Moon's being a little more neat while Sun's is more fun and just a tad messier. He also overdecorates a bit. Moon stays simple with his smiley faces and Sun loves to express Big Happiness in his.

Ennard's hands (particularly their wrists where their wires tangle together like that) never look the same twice when I draw them, but I like to think the placement of their wires probably changes fairly frequently too, like a Double Rex Rat who has a new coat pattern every few days. Their wires have tarnished over time, but they try to maintain just a little bit of glint, despite the rusting, which is particularly noticeable in the spots where their fingertips brush against things most often. They've also got those little stray wires that poke out of each fingertip. Of course, holding any kind of writing utensil with those Big Meaty Claws has gotta be difficult, so even if they try their hardest, it's not gonna turn out great. Same with their smiley faces. They're doing their best.

[your-local-hoemie]

I've genuinely never put in a request for something before so ur the first T.T

I was wondering, what would happen if you just wandered into scaramouche's room?

Im sorry if this is oddly specific, but I was hoping for a NS!FW M4M, possibly with Balladeer instead of wanderer, and if you do this thank you so much :))

NS!FW. 18+ ONLY!!!

OF COURSE!!!! Thank you for asking!!!!

You’ll have to forgive me if it’s not great. Even though I edge more towards masc im still not 100% sure how dudes work djdhdu

Also good lord, I went kind hard (hah) with this one, my cheeks were gLOWING while writing this. I’m never seeing heaven istg 💀

Edit: I accidentally went a little off script because I got extremely flustered so I’m sorry T-T

Warnings: ns!fw, dom!scaramouche (he needs his own warning), mild degradation, mean words, bratty behaviour, smug little shittery, lots of spicy words, swearing, male!reader, not proof-read.

Characters: scaramouche as: The ✨Balladeer✨

Scaramouche and you had a weird relationship.

No one knew whether you hated each other or if you were actually close.

Including you-

Sometimes you’d be at each other throat with any sharp object you could find and then the next, you’d be defending the other for whatever morally questionable crimes you had committed.

You happened to be one of the unfortunate fatui members that had been assigned to Scaramouche.

You don’t really know how he didn’t decide to murder you for your instinctive comebacks whenever he’d insult you.

He’s never admit it but he enjoyed having someone to banter with that wouldn’t immediately shit themselves the second he glanced at them.

Which is why you were now in his office for…

Well you didn’t really know.

He was busy doing paperwork that he was making extremely obvious that he hated every second of.

You were sitting in a chair across the room from him, equally as bored.

“So what exactly do you need me for… sir”

“To sit there and shut up.”

“…why?”

Letting out a sigh, Scara rolling his eyes, waving your questions off.

“You know, I’m supposed to be doing work. Going out, getting information, torturing, stealing, all the good stuff. Not sit in a room with a pouty brat-”

Clearing your throat, you suddenly realise what you had done.

Oh shit-

With a glare more threatening than a cryo mage in the rain. Scara placed his pen neatly down on the table, carefully organising the papers in front of him with sly grin.

Double shit-

“You know, you do a lot of talking for someone who can’t even handle to be alone in a room with their boss for more than an hour”

“Yeah well you’re not really the most enjoyable to be around…boss.”

The balladeers grin became even more sly as I pushed the chair away from his desk, standing up and taking a few steps forward, positioning himself right in front of you.

“I’ve had a very stressful day and I think I could use a little worshiping. Why don’t you use that mouth for something other than pathetic remarks, hm~?”

“Excuse me-?”

Without a hint of hesitation or shame, the harbinger placed his hand on your head. Most likely relishing the feeling of actually being taller than someone for once.

“Don’t act like our… banter doesn’t get you hard. I’ve seen the way you squirm when I get a little too close~”

Scaramouche pressed your head close to his crotch, speaking with a tone laced in sly smugness.

“I know you’ve imagined what I could do to you. I bet you even stroke yourself to the thought of me. Having the hand of a deity stroke you~”

Obviously he was right. Which just annoyed you even more, causing your pride to outweigh the sheer embarrassment coursing through your veins at his lewd words.

“You know how much shit you’d be in if I told anyone about this, right?

Scaramouche frowned at your remark, swiftly taking your chin in his hand and forcing you to look up at him.

“If a word of this leaves your mouth to anyone other than me, I will make you wish that I killed you. Understand me?”

Feeling your words catch in your throat, you give him a irritated nod, unable to fully deny how hot the whole situation was becoming.

“Good. Now, be a good for your god and worship me the way I deserve.”

Smirking down at you, Scara unbuttoned his shorts, letting his already hard dick bounce out against your face, making him sigh out in satisfaction.

“I always thought you looked so much better on your knee’s~ now suck.”

Blushing violently and not even able to deny how turned on you were, you locked eyes with The Balladeer and took him inside your mouth.

“Good boy~ just like that..”

Petting your hair with a surprising amount of gentleness, Scara pushed your head back and fourth, making you gag as his tip hits the back of your throat.

“Why don’t you touch yourself for me like the desperate, horny slut you are~”

Letting out a small, muffled whimper, you knew you were completely at his mercy as you couldn’t help but move your hand down, touching yourself as he commanded.

Scara thrust his hips more intensely, picking up his speed as moans and grunts escape his lips causing you to match his speed with your hand.

Feeling his hand grip tighter on your head, with one finally thrust and a loud groan of pleasure, scara finally released himself down your throat, pushing you over the edge as you coat your hand and pants in your load.

“Mmh! You’re such a good fuck toy,m. Now make sure to clean up the mess m’kay?”

Pulling out, leaving a messy string of saliva mixed with his load; Scara took a deep breath and returned to his paperwork like nothing happened, leaving you panting and and mess on the floor, still somewhat dazed.

“Y-yes…sir…”

HSIDUDICUIDJDIVUDO AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

squeaks 👺👨‍🦽👹🧍

[toshidou]

hea r me out ,,, sub ghost ,,,,

oh anon, how i love you

word count // 1.3k

tags // 18+ only, sub!ghost, dom!reader, rope, handcuffs, vibrator wand, ghost calls reader mommy and it nearly kills him and his pride but he did it (proud of him), face sitting, cunnilingus, hair pulling, multiple orgasms (from simon, lucky boy)

Simon Riley is not a man who gets the opportunity to let go very often, if in fact at all. He knows what’s expected of him, whether it be the stern, serious lieutenant, or the Ghost, a mere myth to military personnel all over the globe. He knows the role he’s been assigned, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t go above and beyond the expectations set for him. 

He once foolishly thought that he was a man who could cheat his own biology, somehow convincing himself that he could outrun the stress and near debilitating exhaustion. That was until you offered him a rather different solution. An arrangement that worked well for both of you, he remembers you saying. You weren’t wrong. Which is how he finds himself handcuffed to the metal bars of your bed frame; Hitachi wand tied against the entire length of his cock. 

“I wonder what your enemies would think if they saw you like this, hm?” Your voice cuts through the fog in his head, forcing his blurred sight to clear just so he could drink in the vision before him. You sit on the end of the bed, maddeningly far from where his body lays prone on the sheets, watching him with wicked eyes as he jolts when the tip of the vibrating wand presses firmly against his frenulum. 

“Going to cum on your pretty stomach for me again, baby?” He doesn’t miss the taunt in your voice, trying to hide the way his cock twitches pathetically at your condescending tone, unable to do anything but part his lips and moan. Being vulnerable was not something he ever thought could come this naturally to him, but something about you made it so easy for Simon to just forget about his place in the world, about the near back breaking burden he carries on his broad shoulders on a daily basis. You help him feel free, by taking away that burden and replacing it with blinding pleasure; all he had to do in return was give you his submission. It was the easiest choice he’s made in a long time. 

“Use your words big boy, I know it’s a lot, but I need you to be a good boy for me, okay?”

“Yeah, fuck, ‘m sorry,” he doesn’t miss the fond gleam to your eye, nor the hand that slides from his knee down to his upper thigh, hissing through his teeth when your touch causes his leg to twitch, jolting the vibrator against his cock, “‘s too much, gonna go fuckin’ insane.”

You hum in response, lidded eyes molten with lust come to rest on the flushed red tip of his cock, pearlescent beads of precum dripping in rivulets down his veined shaft, straining against the rope that secures it to the wand. 

“You mean to tell me that my big strong soldier can’t handle a little vibration?” Any response he has dies in his throat the moment you flick the tip of his cock, shame seeping through his veins when he realises that he just fucking came. Again. He doesn’t know if he wants your mercy, or more, but his dick apparently makes that decision for him, still painfully hard where it lays twitching like a heartbeat against his abdomen. 

“Please,” He grits out, eyes shining with tears formed through over-stimulation, “Please turn it off,” but glassy eyes only serve to widen the grin that stretches so prettily across your face. 

“Please who, Simon?” Oh god. His head droops, chin meeting his chest as he debates whether taking the near torturous, incessant pleasure would be easier than dropping the last of his pride, the last barrier to full submission you haven’t quite been able to squeeze from his stubborn brain. The debate, however, is short lived, cut off by the click of a button and strangled shout as the vibrations kick up a notch, doubling his previous torment. 

“Please mommy, please fuckin’ turn it off, God,” The momentary humiliation dissipates the moment he locks eyes with you, chest heaving with relief as the wand is finally switched off. You look near predatory, pupils dilated so heavily not a shred of colour remains, sharp nails digging so deliciously into the meat of his thigh as you use him as leverage to kneel over his wrecked body. 

“There we go, was that so hard sweetheart?” He nearly preens under your pleased gaze, going near dizzy with how quickly he finds himself sinking under your dominance. It’s nothing like the authority he’s used to wielding, harsh and unforgiving; you control him as easily as one does a puppet, with precision and grace. And he’s fucking obsessed with it, obsessed with you. 

“Want mommy to sit on your face, darling?” You must instantly catch the way he’s eyes widen, how his arms strain against the metal bonds above his head.

“Yes fucking please,” he rasps, saliva quick to settle heavily on his tongue at the mere thought of you seated so prettily on top of his mouth, unable to think of anything other than making you cum on his tongue. He’s practically panting by the time you come to straddle your legs either side of his head, unfocused eyes darting between your face, and glistening folds, so desperately eager to have the taste of you coat his tongue, his lips, his chin, marked so clearly as yours. 

“What’s the magic word again, baby boy?” 

The reply comes so much easier this time. 

“Let me eat you out, mommy, please, I’ll beg if I fuckin’ ‘ave to, just-” Clearly you weren’t interested in hearing anything else he had to say, cutting him off by lowering the rest of your body to met his mouth and rewarding him with the sweet taste of your cunt. He’s sinking deeper, he’s just barely aware of the feeling of pure emptiness and bliss that rolls over his consciousness, no thoughts in his brain other than pleasing you. His tongue laps in strong, desperate strokes against your pussy, collecting every drop of your arousal and swallowing it down like he’s a man starved, as if you were an oasis amidst a barren desert. 

He’s rewarded with your hands forming a tight grip in his hair, nails scratching against his scalp in a way that has his hips lifting off the mattress, groaning as he feels the way his biceps flex against solid restraints, desperate to sink his fingers into the soft warm plush of your skin. 

“Doing so fucking well, making me feel so good Simon,” Saccharine words sooth his addled mind, forcing himself to stay afloat just so he can watch the way you begin to fall apart atop him, hips canting against his mouth as you start to ride his tongue with earnest. You barely cast a glance down at him, as if the only thing you care about is chasing the pleasure that lies beneath you. And it really shouldn’t turn him on, the idea that he’s nothing but a vessel for your pleasure, but it really fucking does. 

It only takes a mere minute or two until you’re falling apart above him, your walls spasming around his tongue, thoroughly drenching his face and throat with your cum. He doesn’t stop fucking his tongue into your twitching pussy until you’re dragging your hips from his face, revelling in the frustrated and disappointed whine that slips from his arousal slicked lips. 

“No need to sound so sad, baby, I’ve got a lot more planned for us tonight. So be a good fucking boy and let mommy ride your cock until she’s had her fill.” 

Letting go may not have come easily to Simon, but with you, it’s as natural as breathing.

[ornii]

Hi love your works! Was wondering since it’s that time of year would you consider doing a Bitterly Beautiful Halloween Special or One Shot?

I already had something planned!

Bitterly Beautiful: Hallows Bearing

“Absolutely not..”

“Aww Cmon..”

The Spookiest Time has come to Nevermore and the the decrepit school has been given a thin white blanket of frost to freshen it up. (Y/n) sat on Wednesdays bed, tilting his head to her direction. It’s been a few months since the duo defeated Crackstone, Tyler and Thornhill. After his near death, well technically his death experience, (Y/n) and Wednesday have a newfound love for each other, even if Wednesday barely shows it.

“You seriously don’t want to go to the Hallows Eve celebration?” He said, Wednesday keeps her head forward into her novel, typing so calculating on the Typewriter.

“And bore myself to death outside? I’d rather watch the others freeze in the discomfort of my own room.” She said, (Y/n) chuckled and stood up to approach her, he gets behind her and peers over her shoulder. Wednesday doesn’t stop him, him being blind severely limits his ability to peer into her work.

“You really don’t want to spend time with me? Your favorite Blind helpless boyfriend? I know you have a hero complex.” He says smugly, Wedensday stops typing and tilts her head to him, “I couldn’t predict how annoying you’d be, if I knew I would have preferred you stay dead.” She say with her mundane flat tone, but he knows she didn’t mean it. He, with all the brazen pride, gives her the softest peck on the cheek. Wednesday, still not fully understanding of her emotions, slowly began to burn a shade of rose red. Wednesday scowled and he laughed.

“I can hear your brow furrowing. You’re not mad at me, are you?” He backs up and Wedensday approached, she doesn’t say a word, her death stare was more than enough to say that he’s made a crucial mistake. (Y/n), taking the biggest risk, gently pokes her cheekbones.

“Aww, don’t pout, you know I love you.”

“And you know I hate human contact.”

“Even If it’s my contact?~” (Y/n) utters with slower tone, letting his words dance in the ears of Wednesday. He felt the sudden force of being pushed down on her bed, before he can sit up, Wednesday gripped his wrists, and fully mounted him pinning his wrists to the bed, they were face to face. The sudden shift in the power dynamic was always something that occurred in their relationship, (Y/n) would tease and prod Wednesday, only in good loving spirit, and when she finally cracked and gave in, he got what he wanted.

“Even your contact… your Tried and tiresome acts of physical contact are overused and are fit to stay in the 30’s.” She said, she slowly leans into his ear and spoke sternly into it.

“Luckily for you, I consider myself.. Old Fashioned.” She replies, before their lips could get to know each other more intimately, they hear the doorknob shake, as if someone is trying to enter. Ajax opens the door to (Y/n) and Wednesday, who hurried got off of each other, Wednesday on her Typewriter while (Y/n) playing sorrowfully on the Violin.

“(Y/n).” He said, the inconspicuous boy stops his playing.

“Ajax, is there something you need? I was in the middle of something very important.” (Y/n) says, and Ajax nods and leans in the doorframe.

“Me and Enid are gonna go for the Permafrost Ball. You two wanna double date?”

“That sounds—“ (Y/n) began.

“Positively Suicidal.” Wedensday replies, cutting him off. Ajax shrugs and walks back. (Y/n) tilts his head to her direction.

“Is being liked that hard for you?” He asks, but he doesn’t wait for a response. “I’ll leave you to your book.” He said, and left the room, Wednesday sighed with relief, and felt the pain in her back swell. She could only come up with one solution, ask the one person who seemingly knew everything but absolutely nothing at the same time, Enid.

The two stood in their dorm as Wednesday reluctantly asks.

“Enid, I… require your assistance.”

“Of course! Anything for my best friend and roomie.”

“Riveting… anyway, it seems I have come down with.. something… and I cannot conclude what Illness befalls me, so I’m asking the girl who knows everything.. but absolutely nothing.”

“What was that last part?”

“nothing, can you help?” She asks and Enid casually flips out her phone.

“Obviously! Now what’s hurting you?”

Wednesday walks around, pacing as Enid types.

“I awoke feeling dreadful during the mornings, even nearly vomiting… I, frequent the woman’s restroom more often, my taste buds have soured… my, my breasts have been feeling, tender… I don’t understand what this is.”

“Okay all done!” Enid searches and gets the result, “Drum roll please!” She Said, Wedensday just stares at her.

“Fine, and the winner is.. Pregn—“ Enid stares at the message for what seems to be forever, until she slowly looks up at Wednesday.

(Y/n) wasn’t in his form, he was assisting Eugene with his Bees, as Winter was coming and the lack of pollen will severely affect them. He exits the Bee house, as he does he senses that something is terribly wrong, little does he know, Wednesday Is storming over to him with Enid trying to defuse the death bomb heading straight towards (Y/n). He heard the footsteps approach and could tell by the shoe size and pace it was his girlfriend, and a less than enthusiastic pair following. He smiles as he senses his girlfriend.

“Wednesday my Love, you reconsidered?” He asks, her silence was usual but something was very off.

“I am going to castrate you...” she said with the scariest huff. (Y/n) was backed into a wall of the bee hive, completely confused by what’s going on.

“What? Why? What did I do?” He asks.

“You, put This parasite in me!” She scowls, Enid finally catches up, tired.

“Wednesday… don’t be so angry I hear it’s bad for the baby.” She said, basically spilling the beans, Wedensday turns around to say something but (Y/n) already picked up on it. His hand softly gripped hers and she turned back to face him.

“Wednesday?…” he asks, tilting his head down to her abdomen and Wednesdays cold and callous anger slowly subsided. She kept her eyes locked on his face, scanning it for any mood. But he suddenly but lovingly hugged her, feeling her icy but still body suddenly pressed up against him.

“I, didn’t know you were—“

“I was, afraid to tell you.” She mutters in his ear. “Wednesday Addams, afraid? Color me surprised.” He says, and she squints, not finding his little jabs amusing.

“I’m still considering the castration.” She hisses. (Y/n) relents with an awkward laugh.

“Okay, sorry… uh, who else knows?” He said, “You and I and unfortunately, Enid.” Wednesday said, and Enid waves from the back.

“Isn’t it great? I’m gonna be an aunt!” She says with auch giddy joy, Wednesday didn’t want to show it, but the tiniest smile was on her face. (Y/n) and Wednesday decide it’s best to spend time together, for them to discuss the next steps. But it was mostly (Y/n) kneeling at Wednesday, rubbing her belly so lovingly.

“Hey there little one, I can’t wait to hold you one day.”

“Why are you talking to the parasite.”

“Wednesday, Baby, please don’t call them a parasite…” He says, and gently nuzzles her abdomen.

“Have you told your parents?” (Y/n) asks, and Wednesday was silent for a moment. “No, I had not informed them of my current situation, I suppose we must eventually and I will tell them… I suppose telling yours will bear no fruit.” She says.

“I could care less about what they think, my Uncle will be overjoyed. But now that I think about it..” he begins, “If Enid knows… and being the social butterfly she is… she’s most likely told everyone already.” He says, (Y/n) gently took her hands once more.

“I understand if things will be, different, people tend to talk a lot and, I hope you won’t let what they say waver you. It, scares me… what if our child opens their eyes for the first time and vaporizes everyone? They hurt you or me or… be drones on, afraid of what this means. He said, Wednesday looked at his face, she calmly removed his deep black glasses, seeing his closed eyes, tears slightly welling up, Wednesday’s palms gently gripped his face and spoke as lovingly as she could.

“You are not your father, you will be a loving and fantastic father, regardless of what transpires with our.. Child.” She spoke so, reassuringly, this wasn’t some facade she was putting up, it was honest, genuine and loving. His lip quivers, but he shook down his fear and smiles.

“Now.. open your eyes.” She says, (Y/n) took a few deep breaths and nodded. He slowly began to open them, worried about what will happen, but then he finally gets to look Wednesday in her perfect deep auburn brown eyes. It was all still somewhat of a Blur, but he could make out her face. Wednesday could finally see his, the magic in his eyes faded. And his eyes were tinge of yellow, deep rooted gold. His head leans in and embraced her with a kiss. Their lips depart and there was only one question he had left to ask.

“Wednesday Friday Addams… will you marry me?”

“Yes (Y/n)… a thousand times over… yes.”

[instarsandcrime]

Over the Radiowaves (2/2)

@ripelytoo So imagine me kicking down the door, completely out of breath with my hair partially on fire because hoo boy that took so long and thank you so much for your patience! Writing Vox and Alastor + life stuff got in the way of everything but I finished within the deadline baby! I hope the wait was worth it! We got silly, hurt/comfort, a smidge of emotions and feels, fluff, etc. Plus questionable, slightly less one-sided Radiostatic?

This is a sequel to @rosieknows's own request Under the Weather, so go check out part 1 if you're interested in starting from the beginning!

Quick cw: there is a small bit of mess at the end, though it's not very detailed. But I wanted to give a heads up at the end!

I'm gonna go lie down...in the meantime, thank you for the request and enjoy the fic! 🩷

---

Vox would not call himself a reckless man.

He prided himself on his maturity, his restraint, and a dash of opulence for good measure. All in all, he was the definition of the highest perfection in technology, a one-man revolutionary that never seemed satisfied.

But fuck did he need a vacation.

And that was just the case, glaring at the very screen that not too long ago sang a song that continued to haunt his processors. And the worst part was that he didn’t know why. He couldn’t quite place it, but it bothered him beyond belief.

“Ht’chhzzzt!” Speaking of which. It's not that his vents were irritated by Alastor's flu. It was just some bug– a minor glitch in the system. He was, without a doubt, above such an outdated virus! Clearly the rattling of his exoskeleton was from the malfunctioning air conditioning because holy Here it was fucking freezing. Clearly the excess electricity that rose his core temperature was from a long night’s work. And clearly the tingle that came with it, the static shock that ran from his processors through his wiring…down to his sk-skull…building with electric sparks until– 

“Het’chhzzzzt! ET’CHHZZZZT! HET’KSHHHZZZT!” The sound of shattering rained down like knives, luxurious chandelier lamps burst and broken by uncontrolled power. “Eh…heh! HEKT’SCHHZZZT! Guhhh…”

Vox pursed his lips, flicking a shard of glass from his shoulder. Well, maybe he should pay the walking germ fest a visit anyway. Just to rub his good health in that smug prick face. He nodded curtly, ignoring the overwhelming dizziness and cooling fans that sputtered like an old, rusty engine. It was clearly a warning for his overheating mind. But he couldn't not be all there, could he? Because he was fine! Taking a deep breath-- or one that didn't result in a debilitating coughing fit-- he focused on where he wanted to go. Flipping through channels and pathways, he had planned on not looking too desperate.

Which he wasn't, of course.

Maybe in front of the hotel. A few blocks away, even. He could see it now: he'd stroll up to those stupid, gaudy double doors and invite himself in. Make a grand show of the lack of security. Brag about how weak and defenseless The Radio Demon was, and how Vox was clearly superior because machines don't...hheh...cahhh-catch the–

“Hekt’SHHHZZZ’hoo!”

It was around midnight when Alastor returned from his little excursion. Not to say his meeting with Zestiel was difficult, but it was...interrogative. The seven year absence can only boast mystery and intrigue when it remains an intriguing mystery. But now he felt quite silly for stringing one of his oldest friends along-- a little sympathetic, even. After all, the demon faced down on the hotel floor gave him a confusion and frustration that he didn't know was in him.

“Vox?” Alastor craned over the poor soul. Only for him to spring to life, finding balance with a hand to the wall.

“So we meet again, Alastor!” Vox laughed.

“What is happening.” His rival replied flatly.

“Isn't it obvious?”

“Is what obvious.”

“That I won! I beat you! You got sick and I didn't!”

A pause. Alastor looked at the state of the intruder. Then to the radio on his bookshelf, still flickering a striking electric blue. Then crossed the carpet with a sudden smirk on his face.

“I see! Then please, by all means, recount your glorious victory over the poor, defenseless Radio Demon!” He cried, holding a hand to his chest. “I deserve to hear it. All of it.”

“Well look who finally decided to give up and throw in the towel! And after I saved you from freezing face down in the snow!” His rival smirked drunkenly, tugging on his lapels– as well as himself, nearly stumbling into the corner of an armchair.

“A tantalizing sight, my life right in your claws for the taking.” Alastor recalled, catching Vox under the arms by the heel of his cane to push him upright.

“And– and I was the guy who carried you to the tower’s main office without being seen.” He slurred, pointing slightly left of himself. “You better be fuckin’ grateful, by the way. You almost blew my cover! Twice! Seriously, it's like your stupid flu was as disgustingly dramatic as y-yuhh-youhhh...are…! Hup’TSHHHZZT! HUTSCHHZZZZT!” 

A battered desk lamp flared in a firework of light before settling back again. The overhead bulbs momentarily shook with a sudden burst of energy. And in the middle of the flickering, flashing mess stood the Tech Overlord, sniffling miserably into a sleeve.

“Truly you are a paragon of grace and wit.” Alastor assured as he strolled towards the bathroom. Leaving Vox to follow him in his delirious, rambling rage.

“And then! And– Hep’shhhzzt! Sdnff!” His body jerked forward, screen glitching wildly just for a moment before resuming the one-man battle that he was definitely winning. "And then I treated you pretty good I think!"

"Well."

"Whatever! I– ihh- It’schhhzzzt! Ughh. Th’ point is that I took care of you! Monitored your temperature, gave you blankets, made you tea. And then you just LEFT! How's that for morality--" Alastor hummed nonchalantly, passing him a downy comforter. "--oh, thanks. I mean come on! I already had like ten different projects I'm working on so the least you could do is..."

The Radio Demon stood, waiting expectantly while his potential patient trailed off. Vox stared down at the gathered blanket in his arms, hoarse voice lowering. "...you're taking care of me."

"Ah, I see your wires have finally uncrossed! Truly a headline for the ages, don't you think?"

"You're taking care of me?"

"Would you rather I show you the door? Because--"

"No!" Vox blurted. Then remembering himself, cleared his throat with a thick sniffle. "No, no, uh. It's. It’s juhhst- huh! HUT’SCHHZZZT! Ughh..." Already overworked vents shuddered with the effort, and his entire frame followed suit as it struggled to adjust. "I just-- I haven't seen you in a while. The, uh, other you."

The silence was heavy, and it smelt of dust and mold stuffed deep in the back of a closet full of unwanted things. Alastor paused. He inhaled. Then exhaled. "Let's make a deal."

At that Vox opened his mouth, stopped by a hand. "Verbally. And one I'm sure we would both prefer."

"...Okay." He exhaled wearily, wobbling to sit by the fireplace. "Lay it on me."

Alastor replied with another contented hum, sitting opposite, Cheshire grin still plastered on his face. "You’ve had the chance to kill me before, but decided instead to spare my fate. As you mentioned quite loudly." Vox’s flushed face spread to the corners of his screen, sinking into the blanket. “And judging by a severe exhaustion not dissimilar to mine, I’m sure that returning to your tower would be a near-Herculean task. So, for your repayment, I will assist you for tonight and tonight only. No strings attached, no loose ends untied. Do you understand?"

The Vee swallowed harshly, stuffing down his pride as far as it could go. “Fine. It’s a deal. You win.”

"Excellent! Now, then." In a snap a flurry of inky creatures circled the two, hammer and nail at the ready. “I believe it’s time to claim my prize. Shall we begin, old pal?"

Alastor expected whinging and moaning. Maybe a little bit of desperation. But instead Vox was eerily silent. Sensors glazed over lying propped up on the headboard of his newly built bed, watching. Waiting. Mind completely and utterly glassed over with fog. Not even a half-witted jab at the old-fashioned mercury thermometer that slipped from between his fangs. Sighing heavily, Alastor poured a spoonful of medicine from a bottle, humming softly to himself as he tipped the rim into his patient’s mouth. And ever so slightly some color seeped into sepia tone. Alastor was sure the second of cognisance was the foul-tasting syrup until a few weak notes echoed back– breaking into occasional coughing fits that rattled the poor man's chest. 

“You can't seem to stay quiet, can you?” The Radio Demon snapped, though it had no bite. Closing his eyes, the soft broadcast of a song began to whisper. 

“Does this satisfy?” Vox nodded slowly. Alastor swallowed a nauseating pang of relief. 

It wasn’t long after that his caretaker was jolted awake, eyes pried open by screeching static and shouting voices. Pushing himself to his hooved feet, each delicate step across the room grew heavier and heavier as the deer demon approached. Through mucky speakers it sounded as if this fever dream was submerged in muck and grime. But between the two of them, the tangled mess of a memory from seven years ago might as well be clear as a spring. The reflection in the water stared back at him, and Alastor couldn’t help but watch. It was like a bad telanovela, and yet he could read every page of the script by heart.

“Listen asshole! You don't get to tell me what to do with my company and how I run it! I make the rules, not you.” The bitter voice crackled painfully behind the monitor.

“I assure you that my ‘rules’ are sound. These flashy entertainment devices and security systems you flaunt are completely and utterly worthless in the face of the exterminations, and yet you claim they bear the freedom and safety to back it up. It’s foolish and irresponsible to half-ass a game if you hold all the pieces.” Alastor muttered, mimicking his younger self that responded in kind. He squeezed a fistful of comforter until it ripped. 

“Fuck no! VoxTech was made so sinners can feel safe. Seriously, what is your damage? You hide the fine print just like us, so why the Hell are you throwing a bitch fit about a few white lies?”

“Sinners need an honorable deal, not a gaggle of snake oil salesmen. The Vees are built on false hope, I have the power to actually fulfill my promises.  And that, my dear, is the difference.”

“They want an out, I’m giving them an out!”

 Alastor shot upright to face the bastard, every twisted feature hemmed by an eerie artificial glow. “If you cannot understand why I despise your nonsense business practices made of flowery language and empty promises, then I r̵̨̞͑͠e̸͉͚͛f̸͈̅ù̵̹s̶͈̅ë̵͇͉́̎ to join your useless little team you absolute–!”

“--Listen asshole! You don’t get to–”

And all too suddenly, Alastor snapped back to the present. The angry burn on his cheeks faded as the same memory played again. And again. Skipping on repeat over and over and over like a useless, broken record. 

He stumbled, collapsing back on the edge of the bed. Calm yourself, it's just a nightmare. He'll break out of it eventually. But time passed again. And again. The horrid sting could not reduce itself to a dull itch, finally breaking its pattern when a pathetic whimper passed Vox's lips and– alright, that's enough. 

Waking a person from a nightmare was dangerous, doubly so if said subject was a demon– triply so for an Overlord. And although The Radio Demon held far more power and control over his rival, the Vee still had countless amounts of voltage coursing through his veins. Hauling himself to his feet, shaking his previous nerves loose before plucking a snuff box from a high shelf.

Well, he decided, better a sneeze than the electric chair.

Sitting again by Vox’s bedside, Alastor held the powder under the vents that dotted the sides of his patient’s face, watching them shallowly suck in air– taking a small portion with it.

“Hhh..!” The reaction was immediate. The sound of sniffling and hitching replaced the cacophony of his dream, and he twisted with discomfort. Stuck in a torturous loop, unable to sneeze out the irritant. Alastor huffed in annoyance, rolling his eyes.

“Always with the dramatics.” He chided.

“Snffff snff! Ugh! And whose f-fuh-fault is…is thahhhHHH–! Hhhhghh…th-that!” Vox warbled out, airy voice pitching higher and higher. Finally deciding to end his misery, Alastor traced the tip of his claw around his vents with a feather-light touch. Quickly distancing himself, as a final shuddering gasp was his one and only warning before–

“Het’tshhzzzt! H’tshzzzt! ‘Zzzt! Zzt! hhhhHHHH–! …Hekt’SHZZZZHOO!” 

A pop, and a firework of electricity branched from his core, erupting from his suit and branching out– which Alastor casually stepped to the side to avoid. “Gesundheit.” 

Unfortunately, the blessing was premature. “HUT’TSHZZZOOO! HUP’TSHZZZZZT’hoo…huh-hehhHHHTSHZZZOO!” The ground rumbled with scorch marks from the lightning storm. Somewhere in the hallway, the shattering of a bulb made Alastor’s ears press to his head.

“Do you want to wake the entire hotel?!” He hissed through clenched teeth.

“I cad't hhhheh! helb ihhdt! IT’SCHZZZZTHOO! Heh! Hhh! …hghh…” The chaos began to settle, leaving the cyborg gasping for air as Alastor slapped his hands against his vents. Cringing as a thick fluid brushed his ungloved palms.

“S’rry.” Vox mumbled sheepishly.

“You're ill.” Alastor spat regardless, pulling back in disgust, “If you're going to annoy me, don't take credit for things you didn't do.”

“...Okay?” The sickly demon blinked blearily. He tried to sit up, stopped by the head of a cane to his chest.

“Ah-ah, don’t get up. I'll be back in just a moment.” The other sneered, plucking a tissue from the nearby nightstand and, wordlessly, exited. Ignoring the harsh, obnoxious blow that followed.

It took minutes for Alastor to wash the unidentified liquid from his hands and handle. It took an eternity for Vox to fall back asleep. Maybe he did regret that argument from seven years ago. Maybe not. Either way, he scowled and turned his back to The Radio Demon.

Because just for tonight, Alastor had won. Again. He had been cared for, doted over, and treated with the utmost respect. For the first time in a long time, he had a taste of happiness from an old friend.

And honestly? It was awful.

[httpvomitello]

😭😭😭 After reading the multi-birth fics plssss give us head cannons of peeps Splinter??? 😭😭😭

Helloooo, i hope you like it! ♡♡♡♡♡

Hello, my flower *⁠.⁠✧

It was supposed to be a normal night in the lair. Everything was quiet until Splinter’s wife doubled over, breathing hard, and they all knew it was happening—she was going into labor. Her contractions had started, and there wasn’t time to consider anything else. They all knew getting her to a hospital wasn’t an option, so right there in the safety of their home, the family sprang into action.

Donnie was the first to step up. He had made a list of supplies months ago, planning for a moment exactly like this, just in case. He gathered everything he’d need: clean towels, makeshift medical tools, sterile gloves, everything he could think of. Despite his confidence, there was a nervous energy about him. This was big, bigger than any test he’d faced, but Donnie was determined to bring his new sibling safely into the world.

Splinter stayed by his wife’s side, his hand never leaving hers as he whispered gentle encouragements. “I’m here, my love,” he’d say softly, his voice calm and steady. “You’re strong. You can do this.” The words seemed to ease her, bringing a bit of comfort through each wave of pain. Meanwhile, the other turtles hovered in the living room, nervous, peeking around corners, curious and yet anxious. They weren’t used to seeing their mother in pain, and it unsettled them, but they all felt the same pull—their new sibling was coming.

Hours passed, each one stretching longer than the last. Donnie worked with calm determination, walking his mother through each step, giving his father nods of encouragement when he needed it, focusing on the task even when his own heart was pounding with nerves.

And then, finally, the sound they had all been waiting for—a tiny, delicate cry. It echoed through the lair, filling every stone corner with a new, unfamiliar sound. Donnie carefully held up the newborn, wrapped snugly in one of the towels he’d brought, her little face scrunched up as she let out soft, healthy cries. Splinter’s hand trembled as he reached for his daughter, his expression overcome with emotion as he looked down at her for the first time.

She was so small, her tiny fingers curling and uncurling as she took her first breaths. Splinter’s wife reached out, brushing a gentle finger across the baby’s cheek. She smiled weakly, the exhaustion plain in her eyes, but there was a quiet happiness there too. She glanced at Splinter, the two of them sharing a silent moment as they took in their new daughter.

“She will be Hana,” She whispered, voice thick with emotion.

In Japanese, it meant “flower,” a fitting name for something so beautiful and delicate yet so resilient, a little blossom bringing new life to their family.

At that moment, the brothers couldn’t hold back any longer. Mikey was the first to quietly step forward, he looked at his tiny sister with wide eyes. “She’s…she’s so little,” he whispered, reaching out to gently touch one of her small, wrinkly hands. She stirred, her little fingers curling around his thumb, and Mikey’s face lit up with the biggest, softest smile his brothers had ever seen.

One by one, each of them got a turn to meet her. Raph held her carefully, looking down at her with the same gentleness he’d show a fragile glass. Donnie, after delivering her, finally let himself relax, watching her with quiet pride, knowing he’d helped bring her safely into the world. Leo took her last, his hand steady but his eyes soft as he whispered a quiet hello, promising her in his mind that he’d protect her, always.

Splinter watched each of his sons, feeling a new sense of joy swell in his chest as he saw them gather around Hana, his family complete in a way he never imagined. In his heart, he knew Hana would grow up surrounded by love and laughter, shielded and cherished. And as the hours went by, the turtles stayed close, not wanting to leave her side, their hearts already full of love they hadn’t expected to feel so soon.

That night, the lair was filled with warmth. Little Hana, their flower, was here.

[chaifootsteps]

Hello! It's Secret Identity Alastor AU Anon again! <3

Probably an unpopular take but: if they were gonna give That scene to Alastor and Mimzy in 'Dad Beat Dad' where Alastor tells Mimzy to buzz off, then Alastor should've gotten the 'fair weather/toxic friend' plotline rather than Angel Dust (it would've spared Cherri the character assassination at least). Or at the very least a friend betrayal plotline, not even a 'I tried to kill you/other people you started to care about" way, just a, "I actively fed information about you to other interested hostile parties and didn't even give you a heads up when their goons came knocking."

Maybe build it up with Alastor actually being, pretty reliable with doing Hotel things. Have multiple sinners check in for various reasons than just Sir Pentious, like Baxter, Crymini and then Mimzy. Have Mimzy be the spy for the Vees but Alastor totally unwilling to consider it. Have there be an actual mystery of who the spy is, and have Alastor and Vaggie be the main investigators because Charlie is busy trying to get an audience with the branch of Heaven monitoring Hell & running the Purges. Have Husk and Alastor (I prefer AU where they're actually kinda buds but I'd imagine they hold each other at a distance, or are tsundere about it) have an argument about Mimzy possibly being the spy, and have Alastor lose his fucking temper because that's his Bestie that Husk is trash talking (Husk wasn't exactly, but that's the point) and double down because man is literally terrified of looking weak and attackable. Have Mimzy had started to get cold feet about dropping an attack where one of her friends (Alastor) is working closely with, but the siege happening before she can give her friend a heads up. Then the friend betrayal is staring Alastor in the face. Have the attack on the hotel happen because Charlie is out at the meeting with Heaven finally; and thus leaving the Hotel "vulnerable". Have the culmination of the trust exercises for the main cast be the battle to defend themselves and the Hotel.

Then instead of like, talking about what they're actually feeling or whatever, Mimzy doubles down too, tries to play it off like, "there was never anything to worry about, besides, you've always been good at landing on your hooves, Al."

And then Alastor tells her to leave, maybe the whole "[redemption's] not your style" thing could be a callback to her words upon her check in to the Hotel? (Mimzy and Alastor could make up and be friends again in the future after some character development for both, some plot and actual communication between them.)

Then Alastor disappears long enough for the rest of the cast to grow concerned (there would've been, some bonding there?) enough to go looking for him. He's out killing and eating his feelings, he also might be injured from the Hotel Siege but refused to let the other Hotel cast see him look weak.

Also, I feel that one of Alastor's main sins/flaws should be Wrath. People keep assigning him Pride or Gluttony, and while I get it, it doesn't feel all that special or personal. But a vigilante killer in Hell who despite being in Hell still follows a code that punishes those that prey on or victimize the weak (in his eyes)? That's Wrath babey! What if Alastor had his father's temper (if we go with the common fanon that he had an abusive father, who probably hurt his mother while he was helpless to solve the problem in a meaningful way)? And oh, Alastor would be decent at keeping a lid on his temper in everyday life, whether through manners, hobbies, keeping distant, venting on hunting down jerks in Hell, etc, but his main method of self-control is complete denial & refusal to examine his own negative feelings, just keep dancing smiling 'til the curtain call, everything Is Fine, he is perfectly fine. So basically, Alastor's smile is a pressure cooker containing his temper (or something idk metaphor lol), and even he doesn't know when it's going to go off.

Yeah I know my AU version of Alastor is drifting significantly from both "canon" Alastor and long established common fan interpretations of him, but I like the stark dichotomy between the image that Alastor wishes to project as both his identities (the Radio Demon and Alastor) compared to whatever's actually going on in his head and his character arc. I hope this all makes sense or seems coherent to other people who aren't me.

Idk that's all I have right now. Like idk if I'd keep it, but the conflict of interest among friends, even besties, in the survival situation that is Hell could be interesting. It's a fun thought, anyways if you have thoughts, about or to add or whatever, have at it if you want (or not, that's valid too). <3

Got nothing to add to this, but I did enjoy reading it!

[cleolinda]

Weekend links, April 7, 2024

My posts

This week feels like it has been a hundred years long (not in a bad way). 

Somehow we joined together to balance the seesaw just right so Ava Gardner and Jean Seberg could both go through in the Hot Vintage Lady polls (percentages rounded). Like, I’m wearing the Ava jersey and even I encouraged people to vote Jean when necessary. Honestly, I just wanted to see if it could be done. And it COULD. 

Round three has begun. It is already horrific. This is the first round that’s really going to hurt because we spent the last one really getting down in the dirt and championing our ladies, or learning about actresses we’d never heard of before and getting attached to them. And now? We are reminded: memento mori. Everyone loses but one. 

(I personally pitched in for Sara Montiel. “BUT JUST LOOK AT--” Yeah, I did, thanks.)

Reblogs of interest

April Fool’s Day: You were here for the Boopening, yes? The whole thing was that you only got badges for giving boops, not receiving them, which is a great way to not reward popularity contests, but also means that every last one of us was out here trying to figure out who to bap with a cat’s paw 1000 times. I said, listen, my notifications are already trash garbage today. I’ll take the bullet. Boop at will.

The Activity graph isn’t too clear on this point, but it looks like I had something like 65,000--hits? engagements? boops?--that day. Listen, I got the black paw badge too. We all did what we had to do in the Boopening. 

A Shakespearean boop of goodly length: “And, Meowntague, come you this afternoon, to know our further pleasure in this case, to old Food-bowl, our common judgment-place.” 

I had to go lie down awhile after a pun like “The Purrge.”

--

I had just gotten up from that pun and then I had to go lie down again.

Account security gothic

The Canada griffin

Dinotopia nostalgia

Two pairs of spectacles, one made from slices of emerald, and the other from slices of diamond

An old favorite: Cerberus as a puppy, guarding the gates to heck

I feel like these two posts have the same energy: Time cops will not let you travel back to the Titanic and bloodthirsty gazebos are currently in a dormancy period.

The birds are still troubled

PSA: The best sunscreens for your face

Video

A collection of various American Indian/indigenous American languages, including Navajo, Tlingit, Lakota, Colville Okanagan Salish, Cherokee, Yucatec Maya, Greenlandic, Mohawk, Yup'ik, and Mi'kmawi'simk. 

A trans health-and-wellness fundraiser (Mercury Stardust, Point of Pride, and friends) kept getting banned off Tiktok due to assholes. Here’s how to donate; I saw a few “here’s how they helped me” notes, so it seems like these programs are both legit and effective. 

You think you’re going to sit staring at this video because Chocolate Guy is weaving chocolate. Then you get into it, and it just keeps going.

“Too Sweet” is doing hilariously well on the charts for a song that didn’t even make the album proper. Hozier’s bees would like to thank you for your support.

I know I said that Stevie Nicks would make you sing backup on your own haunting, but late in this 1997 live performance of “Silver Springs,” she makes Lindsey Buckingham, the man she wrote this song about, look her in the eye while she belts it at him. This specific performance was released as a single (I was there, Gandalf) and nominated for a Grammy. Watch the video and you will see why.

The Women Those ‘Evolution Of Beauty’ Videos Leave Out

I don’t really know how to describe this rubberhose-style cartoon of Cab Calloway as a singing nightmare clown. Betty Boop is also there. “You just described it!” No, I really didn’t. 

How movable type worked 1000 years ago, from scratch.

Unrestrained seasonal yak fun

A snowy raven photoshoot

The sacred texts

I don’t know how to explain this double Sacred Text about ominous dreams that comes with its own comic, except to say that they’re so iconic that I first saw both posts in lo-res Pinterest screencaps.

April Fool’s: The ultimate sacred text.

Personal tag of the week

Wet beast Wednesday, which had both a headshake stickflip and bears on a swan boat.

[mochie85]

Man of The Month Part 6: June

Series Masterlist My Masterlist @muddyorbsblr Masterlist

Summary: Thor tries to convince you of the appeal of having an Asgardian as a love match. A/N: I wanna thank @lokisgoodgirl for giving me the inspiration for this story. and to @springdandelixn for letting me bounce ideas off of. As well as @muddyorbsblr for the positive push. Pairing: Loki x Reader (eventually) Word Count: 2.8k Warnings: Nudity, Language, bad Google translations.

Thor paced in the common room waiting to be called down. He was twirling Stormbreaker within his palms- the action bringing peace to his mind while he ruminated over the problem at hand.

He trudged along the floor-to-ceiling windows, enjoying the sunlight. Looking down, he could spot some of the adoring public with signs for him, and the other Avengers, at the street level. He smiled and waved as he covertly flexed his biceps to show off. He could hear the faint screams of some of the more ardent fans.

Thor prided himself on his body. He trained and fought hard to get back in shape. Especially after fighting Thanos. Never again will he feel weak and sullen. His people were safe. The world was safe. And his brother- is alive! Now if only Loki would actually live.

He needed to find a way to push his brother into action. The both of you skirted around each other like young adolescents with their first love. Initially, it was cute, but now it was just getting tiresome.

He knew that if Loki wanted something, truly wanted something, he would fight for it. He wouldn’t give up so easily. Thor assumed that Loki would’ve mentioned something about his affection towards you sooner. Especially when the whole photoshoot started, and Stark announced a gentlemanly competition amongst them for your love and affection. He thought that Loki would, in his exaggerated fashion, claim that he loved you more than anyone else on the team and that you were off limits.

So maybe a more hands-on approach was needed. He looked over to Loki who was eyeing the door to your studio all morning. When he finally looked over to Thor. Thor gave him his sweetest smile.

“Do you know whom she fancies, brother?” Thor asked him suspiciously.

“Why would I ever care to think about whom Y/N is attracted to?”

“How do you know I was speaking about Lady Y/N?” Thor raised his eyebrows and goaded him. “I can tell that you care for her Loki. Just admit it.”

“In a platonic manner, yes. I simply care for her as a friend and think that she’s overworking herself for the sake of this insane date-keeper.”

“Thor, you’re up! Scopes asked if I could get you.” Shaun interrupted their conversation.

“Thank you, Master Xu. So, tell me, is she in a good mood today?” Thor asked, a plan hatching in his head.

“Yeah, I suppose so. I had to go in there to make sure she ate. You know how she gets.” Shaun said towards Loki who just clenched his jaw.

“Oh good. She’ll have enough energy for me, then.” Thor said. Loki grew apprehensive by his statement. What could Thor be planning?

Thor stopped pacing and took off his cape, followed by his armor's top leather chest plate. The screams from outside nearly doubled in decibels. His rippling muscles were on display for the two men sitting with him as well as the rabid admirers downstairs. Lightning fizzed in the air as the gentle hum of his power radiated throughout the room.

“Dude. How do you get that muscle right here?” Shawn pointed towards his own body, asking for advice.

“I don’t know, my fellow warrior- work out?” Thor shrugged, clapping his hand on Shaun’s shoulder. Shaun just rolled his eyes.

Thor marched off towards your studio, his smile growing wide as his plans finally came together in his head.

Loki stewed as he watched his brother take his turn with you. His fury was on the verge of exploding. What was his brother planning? He didn’t know what to think when it came to Thor. At first, Loki thought that he would have to fight him for your attention. He didn’t want to admit his feelings for you, especially to Thor. He always manages to get everything Loki desired for himself.

But yesterday, Thor showed great respect in guiding you toward him. That perhaps Thor was helping him in his pursuit of you. But now, it seems the gauntlet has been thrown as Thor unashamedly disrobed and strutted like a peacock toward your studio.

“Lady Y/N?” Thor greeted as he walked through the door.

“In here Thor. On the computer. Are you ready?” You yelled out, finishing the lettering for Scott’s page.

“Almost. You said as naked as we’re comfortable with, yes?” Thor queried.

“Yes…”  his question made you suspicious of what he was planning. You slowly turned the corner, hearing Thor rustle against some of the exercise equipment.

“OH MY GOD, THOR!” You yelled as you quickly covered your eyes to his full-on nakedness. It wasn’t quick enough, however. Your skin blushed and heated as the image burned itself in your mind; Thor standing proud, his sharp and distinct muscles on display as well as his -ahem- well-endowed instrument. You got a full-frontal view of his other hammer.

PENIS! Ohmigod, I saw his Penis! And you were not going to scrub the image away anytime soon.

“While I appreciate the sentiment, Lady Y/N, you do not need to call me your god. I am simply just the god of thunder. But if your exclamation is due to my superior physique, I welcome that whole-heartedly.” He said coming closer to you.

“STOP!” You held your hand out. “Stop where you are. Don’t come any closer.” Your one hand covered your eyes, while the other reached out to ensure he was far away from you.

Your hands felt warm and firm skin. Trying to figure out what you were touching without looking, you ventured your hands north, not wanting to accidentally touch Mjolnir. You peeked through the open slits of your fingers and realized you were touching his hard pecs.

“It’s all right, milady. You can look. We Asgardians don’t have those predilections to modesty as your people here in Midgard. We are open about our sexuality and propriety. You should have seen some of the more robust gatherings we’ve had in the past. Even Loki…”

“…And I’m gonna stop you right there.” You interrupted him holding your finger out to his lips.

“But I was just going to say that Loki…”

“Shhh!”

“Loki…”

“AJZZZZSSSSHHH! Shh! Stay. Right. Here. Thor. Okay? I’m gonna need a moment.” You left him in the studio, not looking back.

All Thor wanted to do was recount how Loki would be the center of attention at these bacchanalias’ revels back on Asgard. Thor’s plan was to show you that Asgardians aren’t as prudish as the Midgardians here usually are. He was going to narrate all the stories that made Loki legendary back home. Surely, Thor could’ve validated Loki’s readiness and eagerness to please a woman such as yourself. He would’ve attempted to make Loki appear as voracious and capable so that you would want to copulate with him that much sooner.

It was a foolproof plan. Why, in all the nine realms, would you deliberately push this opportunity away? Maybe she doesn’t like him back?

You walked out of the studio and slammed the door behind you. You pinched your shirt and attempted to get air through your neck as your skin continued to flush. You slid down the wall and sat in the hallway, waiting for your breath to catch you. You knew you were gonna see some things during this whole ordeal. You did not expect it to be Thor’s. And you certainly did not expect it to be that – godly.

“Darling?” Oh, holy hell! “Are you all right?” Loki’s voice settled in your ears and brought about a new pink hue throughout your body. You looked up and watched him crouch down to you. “You look uneasy. Has my brother done something?” Loki stretched out his hand and felt your forehead with the back of his fingers. The coolness of his skin sent shivers down your spine as the nearness of him heated up your core, causing you to sweat, embarrassingly so, in front of him.

“I…um…I just needed a moment. Y-your brother is in there. Naked.” You swallowed.

“He’s what?!”

“Fully naked. I saw everything.”

“Did he attempt anything? Did he hurt you?” Loki said with a simmering rage as he stood up and walked towards your studio door.

“No. No. No. Loki. It’s fine.” You said as you grabbed his hand to try and stop him. He looked down into your eyes and then at your joined hands. “He was just exuberant about the shoot. That’s all.” Loki helped you stand up, carrying you to your feet. His jaw tightened as he relished the feel of your delicate fingers in his hands.

All too soon, you took them away, not wanting to make him feel more uncomfortable than he already is.

“I apologize for my brother, Lady Y/N. Sometimes, he requires adult supervision.” Loki tried to conceal his hurt at your reluctance to hold his hand. “Would you like me to stay with you?”

“You’d do that?”

“There’s nothing else I would rather do. Of course, to watch over Thor.” Loki amended.

“Right. Of course. To watch over Thor.” You agreed.

No sooner had the two of you gone inside the studio, that Loki threw a towel at Thor’s face. “Will you cover yourself up, you brute!”

“Loki!” Thor yelled with excited glee. Maybe my plan worked after all, Thor thought. “I’m so glad you could join us brother. Although, why are you here?” Thor questioned as his eyes darted back and forth between you.

“Go on, darling. I will make sure he is proper by the time you finish your preparations.” Loki whispered into your ear. You left to get your camera set up quickly, wanting this particular shoot to be over and done with. “I was outside waiting to hear of your turn and what do I see? Y/N! Running out of her studio acting faint as if she’s seen Yggdrasil itself.” Loki whispered angrily in Thor’s ear.

“Truth be told, brother…” Thor gave him a look, raising his eyebrows. “…I mean…” Thor said pointing towards himself. “They don’t call me The Mighty Thor for nothing.”

“Pray to our father, Thor, that I don’t beat you mercilessly right now. It is by the grace of that lovely woman that I spare your life. What exactly are you trying to pull?”

“Oh, come off it, Loki. I’m on your side. I was going to tell her of your capabilities. I was going to promote your virile sensibilities and your voracious appetites. I mentioned our past exploits and the orgies we used to have back on Asgard.” Thor said clapping his brother’s shoulder. Loki’s eyes grew big with malice and shock. “If that doesn’t appeal to her, then nothing will,” Thor said winking as he put on a pair of shorts.

“You WHAT?” Loki yelled in anger.

“Thor…are you covered?” You said coming back into the room and looking down.

“Oh, he’s covered all right,” Loki grumbled through gritted teeth.

“Oh good. Ok (phew). Thor, why don’t we start with some simple shots of you standing there?”

“Wherever you want, Milady.” Thor happily obliged, standing and posing in whatever way you thought was best. Loki stood behind you, trying not to let his rage get the best of him.

Thor embarrassed him! In front of you! The misinformation, the lies, and fabricated images in your head will surely turn your favor against him. There was only one thing to do. Retaliation.

You took some snapshots of Thor, not really looking at the viewfinder or at the preview window of your camera. You were focused on getting him posed and standing still for more than a couple of seconds. Handling Thor was like handling a four-year-old hopped up on sugar and juice with ice cream to spare. So you had him burn off his extra energy on the workout equipment you had set up.

When you did decide to look through your viewfinder, you were confused. Is it the lighting? Is it- is it Thor? “Um, let’s take a couple more pictures, Thor. Maybe ones with you on in a different light.” Thor happily obliged, smiling at his brother. Loki only pulled a side of his lip up in anger.

You continued to look through your camera. Angry and confused. You kept looking back at Thor, then at your camera, then back at Thor. It was like you were capturing two different people. Maybe it will look better on the computer.

“How did they turn out, Lady Scopes? Did you capture my physique? The essence that is THOR?”

“I, um, captured something. Although, I don’t know if it’s me or maybe…” Thor came around the computer to see what your reluctance was about. As the pictures loaded on the screen one by one, Thor got angrier and angrier.

Each picture of him resembled that of what Stark liked to call ‘The Lebowski.’ His definition, his arms, his physique, all rolled together into a shapeless form of what he used to look like.

“LOKIIIIII!!!!!” Thor yelled next to you, making you cover your ears. “What?!” Loki growled back. “Change them back this instant!” “No.” “Why would you attack me like this brother?”

“Why would you embarrass me in front of…Why would you embarrass me?!”

“I did no such thing.” “Did too!” “Did not!” “Did Too!” “Did Not!” “DID TOO!” “DID NOT!”

“BOYS!” you yelled out. “That’s enough!” Both men looked at you, stunned. Only their mother could get both of them to stop arguing like that- with a firm, and resolute command.

“Sorry.” They both apologized in unison.

“I appreciate the apology. But what you both need to do, is apologize to each other. Thor, you embarrassed Loki and that wasn’t very nice.” Although you had no idea what he would be embarrassed about. Perhaps, it was the fact that Thor’s behavior was uncouth to him. “And Loki, it wasn’t nice to remind your brother of a very delicate time in his life. Now, say sorry to each other.” Both men looked each other in the eye and they apologized.  “Jeg mente bare at du skulle komme inn i hennes gode nåder, Loke. Jeg støtter deg. Jeg vil at du skal være lykkelig.” (I only meant for you to get into her good graces, Loki. I am on your side. I only wish for you to be happy.) Thor said in Norwegian.

“Din intensjoner er gode, bror. Men, for kjærligheten av Alfǫðr, la meg klare dette selv!” (I can see that your intentions are good, brother. But for the love of the All-father, let me handle this myself!) Loki pleaded. Thor nodded his head in agreement. “Og jeg skal gjenopprette bildene dine. Jeg lover.” (And I will restore your photos. I promise.) Loki answered back in the same language, flicking his hand, and restoring the photos to their original grandeur.

You had no idea what was said. Only that the two gods shook hands. “Milady,” Loki said with a bow. “I should take my leave now. I feel like I’ve given you more work than I’ve actually helped. Plus, I don’t think Thor needs any more adult supervision,” He chuckled.

“Oh. Ok. Goodbye Loki. Thank you for your help today.” Before he left the door, you caught up to him and said, “You know, if you ever want to just come by, you’re more than welcome here.”

“Truly?” he asked amazed. His heart lightened and fluttered at your invitation.

“Ya, I mean. You certainly helped that one time with Scott. And now with Thor. I think I could use an assistant,” you smiled up at him.

“Thank you. I shall have to think about it. But just know, that I am always here if you need me,” he smiled. You nodded and turned the corner, back towards your computer, before Loki could register the happy dance you were doing internally.

“I saw that!” Thor said, surprising you from your reverie. “You like him!”

“Shhh!”

“You like my brother!” Thor exclaimed giddy and elated! “I knew it! I knew it!”

“Keep it down Thor!” You tried to silence him. You didn’t know if Loki had left your studio already, but you would be embarrassed to know if he heard anything.

“I overheard Xu and Lang talking about my brother’s fondness for you. It was quite evident to most of the team. I don’t see why my brother doesn’t see it.”

“Thor. There is no way. Those two are just making stuff up. Gossiping chicken heads.”

“But you like him. Admit it.”

“Thor, please. I’d rather keep my wits intact. I Like him. I do. Too much.” Even though you said that last line under your breath, Thor’s godly hearing still caught it. “But I’m not…”

“If you finish that sentence with something negative about yourself, dear Y/N, I will be forced to have Banner do those weekly talks with you about feelings and thoughts.”

“Ok. I won’t.” You smiled up at him.

“Du er like blind som Loke.” (You’re just as blind as Loki.)

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