#i have more specific thoughts on this but im too tired to write them

[vikas-room]

i think... every single issue this episode of the owl house had can be linked back to disney shortening the show. like every single one

[not-your-bro]

as climbing class has waned in popularity i've seen (justifiable) criticism of certain fic setups & tropes, and to a extent i agree with a lot of them. but honestly i'll go to bat for josh allowing himself to be helped/cared for.

i've seen this disparagingly called "caretaker chris," and i guess if you think chris is such an asshole that he's incapable of being considerate or caring, then we are on different pages. but i feel like people think that these fics weaken or reduce josh's character. and i'm not saying individual fics aren't capable of mischaracterizing him (i don't even like my own josh characterizations, in my old fics), but i don't agree that this setup inherently does that.

it's different than canon josh, but to me it's an intentional progression. in canon, josh keeps his shit locked down. an obvious example is that he clearly loves and dotes on his sisters but does not want them to know what he's going thru, considering how long it is before hannah finds out. he's also harsh asf to sam if she says that his actions are a cry for help - like i know he's Going Thru It and all, but he just fucking mocks her lmao. at best he wants to shield the people he cares about from these parts of him, and at worst he's just going to bite the hand that reaches out.

........which is exactly why i enjoy allowing him to see that vulnerability isn't weakness, and that it's ok to accept help + care when you need it. this can happen in any universe, in any context, bc i think his desire to close off and/or bite the hand are core character traits that are not dependent on canon events. but my point is, this is growth. or it can be, when done well. bc josh's canon attitude isn't healthy lol. i obviously love an unhealthy guy as much as the next person, but sometimes its satisfying and cathartic to see your fucked up fav take a step forward.

[lunarmoves]

Can't stop thinking of the scenario where y/n leaves the Pizzaplex feeling like Sun honestly wanted them gone, and Sun becomes obsessed with finding them and also leads a robot apocalypse. What would happen if y/n caught wind that Sun is looking specifically for them and seeing all that has happened with the robots takes that as "Oh no, I thought he tolerated me but turns out he dislikes me so much he personally wants to get rid of me himself" so they try extra hard to go into hiding out of fear of what will happen if they're captured and taken to him?

ohhh my goddd nonnie u are so big brained!!!!!!! thank u for sending this in bc honestly i have also been thinking about this au for a while LMAO. if i was strong enough i would write a 50k fic spliced into two arcs (im thinking about it so hard u have no idea!!!!!!) for this but alas.... /stares at my incomplete wips/ i am not </3

(added in from future shay: what have u done nonnie this became so much longer than i'd intended, u basically get the whole fic outline here. cw for death and murder n stuff, typical fnaf. also spoilers for a fic i may or may not write?? like. this is me brainstorming and shoving all my ideas here lol. literally all of them)

okay so... let us set the stage a little bc i can't help myself. arc1 of this hypothetical fic would of course involve the pizzaplex where reader and sun get "closer" over the course of like a year. maybe more. well sun feels close to you. you, on the other hand, do not. why would you? this robot has been so passive aggressive with you and though it seems like he's nice enough to you (in comparison to the other humans), you really don't like how he treats you some days. what he says about humanity as a whole. you can't help it! yeah humanity sucks sometimes and robots were built to be everything that humans aren't, but he can't generalize in the way that he does at times and forget that these are people!! with feelings and ambitions and dreams! 'superiority complex' doesn't even begin to cover his issues, gahh!!

(the fact that he's been treated like absolute shit, working in the daycare does not help whatsoever. the mean parents, the kids who don't listen to him, the staff tht does the bare minimum on him in terms of maintenance because he's the daycare robot and not one of the glamrocks. it grinds his gears)

i imagine the reader in this fic believes that robots are indeed sentient, which is why you try to get sun to recognize and acknowledge his own emotions/feelings (which he vehemently denies, even tho there are literal riots happening worldwide regarding robot sentience. he's lying to you. you know he's lying to you. but you don't know why he denies it so much. ((maybe this is the point where he catches feels for reader and is denying the fact tht he's crushing on a human lol)). the government is not happy about these uprisings, of course, and every day the news shows more and more chaos unfolding as robots get tired of the conditions they are in). but eventually, things boil over and you end up leaving. that, and it's becoming more dangerous, living in this area, with everything going on. maybe your parents are trying to convince you to move elsewhere. maybe there are other external circumstances. in any case, you leave. there is nothing at the pizzaplex for you anymore, sun has made that clear.

(and moon... well, moon has been quiet lately. too quiet. you don't know what happened to him, he won't even look at you when you manage to get some time with him when the lights go out after your shift)

((i imagine this is maybe around when they get infected. that makes everything even more complicated. if you thought sun was obsessive before, then that's nothing compared to a glitched out sun unforch. it just amplifies the more questionable aspects of his entire personality. and like, he doesn't even have vanny/afton commanding him bc as soon as he gets the virus? he kills both of them))

(((also im imagining moon and sun don't really get along in this au bc they have differing ideals/views. like to balance out sun's unhingedness, moon is significantly quieter and softer and deffo does not believe in robot superiority lol. if anything, maybe he has an inferiority complex pfft poor guy. doesn't help when he gets glitchtrap'd and wakes up with blood on his hands)))

okay so you leave, right? and a few weeks later, you see the news on your phone--the pizzaplex has burned down. you don't know how to feel about it. sure you've been friendly to the glamrocks and stuff, but you find yourself thinking about sun and moon. there's a mention of one death--a blond woman, who died from her neck snapping before the flames could reach her. you don't want to think of the implications of that. there's no mention of the glamrocks--of sun or moon or the dj. you're not sure if the news anchors are just excluding robots, but either way, it makes your heart sink. you take a moment to mourn. bc at the end of the day.... you did know sun for over a year.

not even a few days after that, there is a robot uprising in your city. it's... bad. you're at home, watching the news with your apartment half in shambles from your plan on moving back home with your parents. in my head, since utah is home to fazco (a megacorporation with hands in the development of a LOT of the robots seen in society), it also means it's a hotspot for robot riots and the like. fazco vehemently denies robot sentience because it would mean a loss of money in acknowledging their workers are people yk how it is. as such, there are maany protests and riots and stuff, from both humans and robots. it's a shitshow.

ANYWAYS you're at home and it becomes evidently clear that you need to get out of dodge as soon as you can. they were killing people. the robots, built by human hands, were killing. it brings about absolute chaos. in prior riots/protests there were never deaths. injuries, maybe, but never deaths. people start evacuating like crazy.

you catch a glimpse on the news that the violent uprising in utah caused a chainlink reaction to extend all across the nation. maybe even the world. you're scrambling all over your apartment with the tv on the news, doing your best to pack up the essentials. there's live coverage on the tv from a helicopter somewhere not far from your apartment complex. and you're able to catch a glimpse of bright rays and a cheshire, white smile on the screen--leading what looks like an army of robots--before it cuts out.

you don't even know what to think. the image is seared into your eyes, the blood that painted yellow hands and a crescent face.

you get the hell out of your apartment and book it as far as you can. communications are down everywhere--the thing about robots? they know exactly where to hit humans to cause a catastrophe. as such, your phone is useless. they've hijacked the satellites and took down certain powergrids. having a phone on you would only be a detriment, so you ditch it. there's only you now. you must survive.

and then there's a bit of a time skip to start arc2. in this duration, you're long gone from that city in utah, living with a small survival group. if you've read my summer camp au fic, this is where i'll bring in "OCs" such as vincent (a play on 2015 vincent) and jeremy (fitzgerald or the VR guy tht used to work for fazco), maybe michael if i really wanna au fudge everything. you all live day by day, trying to run away from the robots.

at this point, a majority of humanity has either been killed or has gone into hiding. i think while the robots don't want to eradicate humanity completely (after all, there are certain tasks that need humans n such), they definitely want to make them a minority. they are a little more than halfway through their goal.

it's very difficult to evade robot surveillance. there are drones everywhere. all cameras are hijacked. i'm imagining a kind of cyberpunk type world. you have EMPs and tasers that you can use to disable electronics, but they're made from scraps you and your group scavenged. and upon immediately using one, all robots in the area are informed of your presence, so they can only be used in rare and desperate circumstances. they are all connected to the same network, which means they can have a hive mind, at times. life is scary, in this regard. big brother is watching.

you've heard rumors of a human base underground somewhere--a place safe from robots with the proper defenses. accepting to any and all. the only tough thing was finding the damn place, but you've seen the clues in graffiti and hidden messages designed to trick AI (think: captcha). you and your group just wants to get to that damn base and stop living in fear all the time, being out in the open or crawling as stealthily as you can through empty streets.

the one thing sun used to emphasize to you? the way robots are more efficient. and that they are. you see it in the way a new metropolis shines like a beacon on the horizon. they've already built their own kingdom of sorts. and their ruler? you grimace as you think about sharp rays and wide, white eyes. you haven't seen him in ages--not since that initial broadcast. but you hear the whispered rumors and news. how he has created a robot haven--the celestial city. how he scorns humans. you blame yourself sometimes. maybe if you had stayed and tried harder to convince sun that humans aren't all too bad, none of this would have happened.

(a memory comes to you--of your time back at the pizzaplex. of you sitting atop the security desk and kicking your feet lightly as you entertain sun's... uniqueness. ambitions--that you did not take as seriously as you should have.

"okay, i'll bite," you said in amusement. "what would a robot takeover look like for you?"

sun cocked his head, hands fidgeting with a plush. "hmm. well. i suppose it would be a very quick thing, for one. hit hard and fast." he squeezed the plush. "take down comms. strike power sources. go for those in power first, then the weaker ones." he gave you a shrug and an unreadable smile. "from then on, carnage."

and you--silly silly you--just rolled your damn eyes at him like he was joking around with you and asked him about more hypotheticals. picking his brain, in a way. it was exact with how it played out in real time. you thought about this often, at the dead of night.

it was all your fucking fault)

and then, one day, the scout/informant of your little group--jeremy probably--comes back with some news. the celestial ruler--sun--has been taking human hostages. it's been happening for a while now, apparently, almost nearly as long as the uprising. jeremy pulls out some hazy photographs he's gotten from some of the other humans he exchanges info with. you look at them, the hostages.

after a minute or two of staring, you realize something.

they all sort of resemble you.

there's a clear pattern actually. your hair or your face shape or your eyes or your smile. some combination of them. but never actually you. you ask jeremy what it all means, and he hesitatingly says that it looks like sun is looking for someone. it's clear to everyone who it is as they all stare at you.

and you? you're panicking.

he's looking specifically for you. just you. you've never heard of the robots taking hostages, and you have no idea what he's doing with them, but it can't be anything good. especially since he keeps taking more and more of your lookalikes hostage. you think back to your time at the pizzaplex--so distant, now, that it almost feels like a dream.

he wants to kill you himself. you're sure of it.

now you're trying even harder to get to that underground base. you go completely dark, doing your best to evade detection--and i imagine there are quite a few close calls, definitely a few instances where your face is captured on camera or you have to use an EMP. until finally, you and your group manage to integrate into the underground human base.

'base' doesn't even properly describe it. it's a whole city, actually, with unsteady houses made of wood and cloth. it's the perfect place to hide.

you spend a while down there, occasionally venturing up when you're allowed to by the guards (it's rare, very very rare). the city has strict rules that must be followed to ensure it's not found. the ones in charge are constantly looking for news on the actions of sun and the majority of robots. they don't really keep the citizens updated--it would cause too much chaos, you think. but you hear whispers now and then. (the robots have expanded territory. france is completely gone. australia's still holding out. most of china and india have been taken over and their factories have all been transformed to mass produce more robots)

for the first time in a while, you think you can find peace down here. it was only inevitable that this would be ruined one day.

you wake up to chaos.

the underground is under siege. the robots have found you.

you run out of your makeshift house and have to dodge crumbling stone. explosions rock through the air, sending dust and debris everywhere. you're scared for your life--your only instinct is to run run run get out it's not safe! you don't know where your friends are. you don't know if they're alive. for a moment, you hesitate. and then you're bolting to try to find them. they had their own little homes not too far from you. you can find them. no man left behind.

you can hear bullets and the hum of energy everywhere. people are screaming and crying all around you. you see people dying before your eyes, impaled by beams of light or stray bullets. it's all you can do to dodge and weave towards vincent's house.

but before you can get there, something tackles you from behind. you roll across dirt, and find yourself pinned under a robot--a staffbot from the pizzaplex, you realize. except it looks--different. more high tech.

it seems to scan your face. and just before it can finish, you manage to grab a stray metal rod laying on the ground next to you and stab it right through the eye.

you scramble, getting as far away as you can from the thing. but-- you run right into the path of a crumbling building. it buries you halfway under thick wood, and something sears its way through your leg. you're trapped. you're trapped and there's no one around to help you.

and just when you're on the brink of passing out, you see him. standing in front of you a ways away. those same star-patterned pants and dangling cap. but he's different somehow, he looks different. you can't place it, your vision blurring into red and purple.

moon looks at you as though you are the last thing he wants to see. and then you faint.

when you wake up, you're in a bedroom. your leg is in a cast and there are crutches near your bed.

it's... the nicest room you've seen in a while. the windows are covered by thick curtains that let in a sliver of light. you have to blink a bit to let your eyes adjust. and then you get up, noticing you aren't in the same ratty, dirty clothes you'd been wearing for forever.

you try the door first. it's locked. there's a sinking sensation in your gut that gets stronger and stronger the closer you get to the window. and when you pull open the curtains, you gasp at the towering buildings, bright green and blue light, and flying drones.

you are in the middle of the celestial city.

you panic hard. and then you notice the camera in the corner of the room, looking right at you. big brother is definitely watching. you give him the bird.

you wallow around in the bedroom for a bit. you are hungry, you cannot deny. and there is only a glass of water for you set on your nightstand.

but eventually, the door opens of its own accord. an automatic lock, you suppose. and it swings open into a dark hall. you do not have any other choice but to follow. it's clear you are being summoned.

there are no places for you to run or hide. you travel down a long hallway and end up in a wide room with someone tall standing at the far end by the window. it's a scene straight out of a movie. you are not impressed.

the figure turns around, and you do a double take. it's sun--yet it's not.

he looks different. taller, stronger. with clawed fingers and rays that look deadly to the touch. his smile is sharper, his torso has all sorts of compartments and attachments. he was modded to all hell, just like that staffbot you saw earlier. it had to have been self inflicted.

he only stares at you, really. white eyes rake up and down your form, taking you in. you don't say a word, only look back at him. and then you flinch slightly when someone emerges from the shadows next to sun.

it's... moon. looking just as modded as sun. you're confused. when did they become separate? but honestly, you think it makes sense. they never really liked each other. it makes sense that sun would want to be separated as soon as possible--and they had the resources to do so. you just wonder why they're still working together. comfort in the familiarity, maybe.

moon doesn't meet your eye. you notice his is different--the red tinged with purple. sun doesn't look away from you. it makes you uneasy.

you don't know why you're here, but one thing's clear: you are not getting out of here anytime soon.

i'm honestly not sure how to end things, but in my head there's a lot of reconciliation that needs to happen. obv sun is so incredibly down bad for you at this point (and moon), but there are many issues that need to be tackled first.

sun doesn't understand why you're so wary around him. moon keeps avoiding you at every turn. there's still an entire revolution and remaking of society happening. you are constantly being watched by cameras in the building. i can't picture things as returning to normal--post uprising--but i also don't know how to end things on a happy note LOL, though i do want to instead of killing off reader or sun/moon. maybe it'll be a bittersweet sort of end, maybe reader finally gets through to sun. maybe eclipse will make an appearance (jk, idk how i would even do that, this might be an eclipse-less fic).

in any case, the next bit would be a lot of sun and reader connecting better than they had in the pizzaplex, a lot of sun trying to understand humans better cuz he's trying to court you-- and has long come to accept his emotions tbh. tho he's still kind of mad at you for leaving, so there needs to be a conversation of sorts about why you left before sun can really begin to understand how he appears to you. idk!

i also feel like moon isnt nearly fleshed out as sun is?? i dunno, i might have to think some more about him. i just know he's terrified of hurting you, esp with him still having the virus (and sun, but he has better control of it). gonna be a lot of work on your part to get him to be comfortable around you again. also, he doesn't like the fact that society has come to this. he lowkey resents sun, but he doesn't have anyone else. what's a bot to do?

also there may be a scene where your survival group tries to save you lol, maybe with an army that tries to seize control of the celestial city. which may work. this would be a bad end, i think, cuz there's no way sun's getting out of that alive.

anyways yeah. i rambled enough LMAOO whoopsie! i rly just regurgitated all the thoughts in my head. no promises that this will be a fic, i've got enough on my plate as is LOL

[squiddy-god]

Xiao and his "friend"

If you see this and you think, "hey, I've seen this work before" you probably have, as I previously went by squid-God-Supreme, however, my blog got nukes, so I am re uploading almost all of my old fics. Once I'm finished uploading all the ones I intend to, I will announce that I am finished, however, after that, if you see I haven't uploaded a specific fic, you remember me writing, you can always request that I upload it.

CW : friends to lovers trope, tooth rotting fluff, Xiao being Really really awkward, gn! Reader, short fic

Being close enough to the yaksha to be considered a friend was a feat on its own 

Another was getting him to fall for you 

And fall he did, xiao had it bad but no one knew as he was rarely seen 

You had gained the yakshas affections, the only problem was how subtle he was 

Xiao has little experience with romance and while one might assume he'd be direct with such feelings, they would be wrong

Eons of pain and melania of suffering only served to teach him that gentle thing where simply no meant for him, that he would only drive them away

Too fearful of once again returning to that aching loneliness, he sought the help of zhongli

Much of xiao's romantic subtleties stem from the former god, his years of knowledge on seemingly anything has taught him various traditions and intracys of love and commerce alike. 

 The glances he steals when you sleep, the longing gaze that fills his amber eyes- and the gentle hand that wishes for nothing more than to touch your cheek, all too quick to retreat when you stir in your slumber, not knowing that you would have grasped his hand in yours. 

You were a sweet dream, a love he longed for yet one he said he could not obtain. 

But unbeknownst to the adepti you felt the same 

You loved xiao, more than he would ever know 

You didn't think yourself good enough of his affections, solemnly convincing yourself that he couldn't harbor affection for you 

You called yourself a fool for believing that there was even a chance that he would return your feelings 

And while you knew you had no right to be jealous of the traveler it didn't stop the ache you felt 

He looked so at peace with them, and you wondered if you had ever seen the same when you were with him 

Xiao was tired, he was growing impatient with this pining, and the distance that you seemed to create made his hands twitch anxiously 

Had he made a mistake? Had he reached to close and caused you to fly away? 

You no longer stood as close to him, your hands did not brush against his gloved ones and your visits to the inn began to lessen 

He felt it again, the gnawing at his mind as it screamed that he had hurt you in some way and the painful beats of his heart as they rang in his ears 

It felt awful to stand so far away from him, inches feeling like miles as you hoped he didn't notice the sadness in your eyes 

But it was for the better you told yourself

You took a deep breath as you walked up the stairs of the inn, a silent prayer that the yaksha was not there tonight. “Is xiao here?” you asked, feigning hopefulness as you looked at verr. “Ah no, im sorry dear, he went with the traveler to help with a commission” that hurt, despite the hope that he wouldn't be there it didn't stop the pang of jealousy. You shoot these thoughts quickly reminding yourself that this is what you wanted. “But why don't you leave him some almond tofu, i'm sure he'd appreciate it” you nodded and smiled, it would be suspicious if you declined, so of course you picked up the plate and made your way to the top floor of the inn. What verr had told you was no lie, xiao had gone with the traveler to complete a commission, however he had returned a while ago, neglecting to inform verr of his return, knowing that if you heard he was here you wouldn't come. So he waited with narrowed eyes for your figure to come up. He was done with this, he would figure out exactly why you had created this distance. He was thankful that the inn was slow tonight, no one was on the top floor, it was the perfect opportunity to confront you. 

Your lips were tugged down in a frown, the glossy look in your eyes made something in xiao break, once the plate of almond tofu was set on the floor and you had turned back to quickly retreat from the inn he appeared. Strong arms caged you against the railing as a piercing amber gaze lingered on yours. His hand held one of your wrists so you couldn't run away, but his grip was feather light, gentle and not bruising. “Why?” his voice was loud enough for only you to hear, but it held no aggression or malice. You could only stare back confused, why what? You didn't understand. “I have told you before, the bond between us is too strong to sever now. So why? What has made you want to sever it?” he was too close, your eyes couldn't dart anywhere but his burning gaze. “I don't know what you-” he pressed closer to you, “you do.” he stated as if it was a fact set in stone. “You just seem happy with them, I don't want to ruin that with my feelings” it was his turn for confusion to take hold. “The traveler” you clarified. 

It all seemed to click in his head and he sighed, resting his head against yours. His eyes were still wide open, gold irises swimming with relife. “Are you really such a dense mortal? Have you truly not noticed my affections? or my courtship?” Xiao asked, his hand leaving your wrist to cup your cheek. You stared in shock, you wanted to pinch yourself to know you weren’t dreaming. “Mortal memories are inadequate, perhaps you need a reminder that the bond between us is too strong to be severed, especially now.” 

It really was like a sweet dream, the feeling of his lips pressed gently to yours, any worry harbored washing away as you wondered if he was really there. But he was, and he had no intention of leaving, of course it wasn't as if you'd let him, your hands finding purchase on his arms as such a light kiss left your breathless.

[riddlessecretss]

My dorm room dalliance - Part two (enemies x lovers)

Based on this photo^^ (aftecare)

“Fuck baby you did so well”

You smile from Mattheo’s praise, you’ve never felt so normal after sex. You get up to set yourself a shower. “Mattheo” “Yes?”

“Stop staring at my ass.” You hear him groan and light a cigarette. You roll your eyes, when is he going to stop with that?

You set a temperature and step in. You start washing your hair when it gets quiet, too quiet. “Mattheo?”…

“MATTHEO?”

You think to yourself that he probably just left. You carry on brushing through your hair and humming to yourself. Having a dorm all for yourself is great!

You finish in the shower and walk out to feel a breeze seep through the balcony door. You grab your wand and walk over to be not so graciously greeted with Mattheo smoking with his headphones on.

You snatch them and place them on your head to be met with Don’t by Bryson Tiller. Not bad Riddle. “You’ve been here this while time?”

“Well where else would be on a friday night if there’s not a common room party?” He scoffs as you give him his headphones and walk back into the room to get changed when Mattheo follows you back in.

“Are you staying here tonight?”

“NO.” He shot back.

“What do you think i am, homeless?”

“No I just thought youd want some nice company since you also have a dorm to yourself.” -Silence- “Aww y/l/n you get lonely?” He teases.

“Shut up Riddle.” You button up your pyjama shirt.

“Ill stay, but only because i’m tired.”

You let out giggle and settle in bed. Mattheo gets in after you and cuddles into your waist.

”It does get pretty lonely by yourself, you know?” He looks into your eyes, hoping for a sense of peace. “I know how you feel, i have to occupy my silence with reading, although it gets quite boring at times.”

“Hm my occupation is all this.” Mattheo holds up a book which at first looks like just doodles but holds some of his heartfelt feelings.

Turns out we are more alike then we thought.”This feels normal. Mattheo do you feel this as well.” You felt your heart skip a beat as Matheo answers with a simple yes. He holds you tighter as you two fall asleep together.

————————————————————————————————————————

~At around 3AM~

You wake up with a headache and as soon as you get up you instantly know why.

“Do you have to smoke that shit in here?”

“Someone’s cranky.”

“I’m not I just have a headache.”

“Here.” He hands you a box of a strange looking pill. “And what is this?” “A pain relieving pill.”

You take it without question and look over Mattheo at an empty can, a lighter and an ashtray. Where did that come from? But out of everything, even the spliff in his hand, you notice his notebook on his chest open on a specific page.

“What did you write?”

“What?”

“In your book. Can I see?”

“No.” He turns a cold shoulder and puts his cigarette out and his book in his bag. I mean i am curious but a no is a no.

You turn away too and try to get some sleep.

————————————————————————————————————————

~At 7:30AM~

You wake up and notice Mattheo gone. It doesn’t surprise you at this point. But what surprises you is to see his book open on the same page it was last night with a note that read:

Since i can’t let you read it when im there…

You laugh to yourself and you pick up the book to see:

I can’t possibly contain my feelings for her trapped in a box in a corner of my heart, she deserves more. Even the way she sleeps, she looks mythical. She needs to be mine…

… Decorated in blue ink doodles confessing his love for me.

“Oh Mattheo if only you knew how i really feel about you…”

Im so so so sorry i didnt post this yesterday, I suddenly got so ill and tired and fell asleep early. I hope this makes up for it. And thank you guys so much for all the likes on the Slytherin boys react: aftercare post. This is part two so I recommend to read part one first which can be found here. I dont know if there will be a part 3 tell me if you guys want one. Navaiah 💘

[hisaame]

OK kinda a specific request but like- could you do a Scara x fem!reader or gn!reader where he’s like overworking himself due to his studies(probably bc of his mommy issues sjsjks) and reader is like comforting and convincing him to go to sleep w her/them since it was late? Modern au ofc. And basically Scaramouche is being all stingy about it like “no I’m fine” and stuff but eventually goes to bed because of readers sweet words haha

Of m y god this ones adorablw i love soft scara THANK UU!!

╰⪼ “fine, for you." ♡

╰ — scaramoucheˊˊ」

╎『modern au!ˎˎ

[fluff] — 『warnings: workaholic scara, soft scara again (i swear these arent real warnings), cursing, scara mommy issues, readers pronouns arent used, but feminine body type』

It has already been a long week for you and Scaramouche, school was a pain in the ass, as well was studying. You would usually be studying at the schools library with friends, or mainly with your boyfriend, Scaramouche. But even with you being done with everything, he continued studying, alone.

It was late at night, around one in the morning, you had just finished some chores since you didn't have much to do, and you weren't tired then. But now you were, all the chores you did worn you out. You thought your lover jad already gone to sleep or is possibly waiting for you, but once you entered your twos' bedroom with a tired yawn, you saw Scaramouche still at the desk, focused.

'he's still studying?..' you thought to yourself, slowly walking over to your lover who seemed too focused to even notice your there. But with a gentle pat on his shoulder, he flinched slightly, then turned to look at you with tired eyes. "[yn]? Why aren't you in bed?" he asked, rubbing his eyes as his other hand still held a pen between his slender fingers.

"Shouldn't i be asking you the same thing?" you replied with a raised eyebrow, looking at Scaramouches own eyes that seemed to already have eyebags under them, his eyelids drooping as he forced himself to stay awake. "shit," he mumbled "you go, ill join you later. I have to finish this shit." with a groan, he turned back to studying, his eyes trying to soak in every word he reads from the book, and writing the more important things down.

You sighed, a bit frustrated now. "Scaramouche, please, finish it tomorrow, you look like you're barely awake." you pat his head, running your fingers through his dark indigo locks. You just loved him too much to let him overwork himself like this, he needs to be getting enough sleep. "Cant you fucking see i cant? This is important, alright? Do you think i wanna fucking do this either?" he groaned, frustrated with how long he's studied, and barely able to focus with his sleepiness. But seeing how he was a bit too mean to you, he mumbled "... Shit, im sorry. Love, please just go to bed, im fine."

he rubbed his eyes yet again as you replied "not without you. If im going to sleep right now, ill make sure you're right beside me.", you crossed your arms below your chest, glaring at your boyfriend. Why must you be so persistent? He cant even get his studies done with you like this. "I told you im fine, plus ill be in bed soon anyway." he put his hand on your hip, still reading over the words he's trying to memorize. His hand caressed your hip, then went around your thighs to pull you close. "There will be no later, come on." you groaned, too worried about your overworked lover.

"mmh, so soft..." the male mumbled, pressing his head against your stomach, to where he could reach since he was sitting down and you were standing up. He used your stomach as a head rest while reading. His hand still caressed your plush thighs. "Yeah? U can hug me all you want when we're in bed." you smirked, seeing how this was actually working. He narrowed his eyes, very tempted. After all, he could just finish this tomorrow, right? No big deal? Tomorrow he promises himself to study with you.

"fucking fine... Lets go. You better keep your word." he finally gave up, standing up lazily as the both of you walked to bed. He quite literally threw himself on the bed while you followed by doing it the.. safer way. He groaned as soon as he stretched his back, cramped from being in the same position. Now he gets his reward. You.

He lazily wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling his face into your neck, all while you held him in your arms. You did scold him a little for overworking himself, to which he only giggled and said "oops".

And he fell asleep almost immediately...

♡

[the-lonelyshepherd]

"fanon lottienatters please stay away from me" oh!! shots fired!! 2,000 dead, 10,000 injured!! BUT curious about your specific definition for fanon lottienat and what you dislike about it <33

ohhhhh okay... alrrrrrr

this is like. one of my biggest issues. im not like a shipper, never rlly have been until yj but i dont like engage in discourse bc thats stupid.

But basically? Fanon lottienat just kinda strips anything thats interesting about the ship away. and makes it like. punk x preppy. loser x popular. ive even heard black cat and golden retriever which makes me want to rip my eyes out.

And its not even accurate to their characterization? at all? like youre flanderizing them but like..... not even their main traits. like ive seen people say "precrash lottie would be like charlotte from status update (curse that movie btw. the things i do for u courtney eaton) which is just. like not at all.

first off lottie is not popular. yeah, shes rich, but shes clearly somewhat of a loner (WHICH PARALLELS NAT?? WHICH MAKES IT MORE INTERESTING???) even courtney has said this in interviews. she feels ostracized, and a lot of it can be traced back to the flashback scenes we see, esp those about her relationship w her parents and her supposed mental illness. the 90s, especially the 90s in a high pressure rich family, was NOT a good place to have schizophrenia (and yeah theres the "she wasnt actually mentally ill" argument but that changes nothing because atp in the story her whole family and probably herself believed she was.

Then we have the nat characterization. The fanon "grumpy" to fanon lotties "sunshine". guys canonically nat smiles more than lottie. girlie was always grinning while lottie was experiencing the horrors all of s1. ofc they both went THROUGH it but that specific stereotype pissed me off sm i had to address it.

also, nat gets shown a lot as masc?? which is a fine headcanon but like for her style like the whole punk thing? she acc dresses relatively femininely.those are little irks abt nat but they bother me idc. too tired to write more on this rn but feel free to ask!

so basically taking this stuff into account - fanon lottienat uses a gross mischaracterization of both characters, especially lottie (also that suspiciously align w stereotypes HMMMMM) to literally make the ship more boring. You are making it a stupid and lame trope. You literally have these two insanely complex characters who mirror each other. Theyre not opposites attract, they are the same character in different skins. They're both loners, one because of her punk/rebel nature and nasty rumors, the other because of her mental illness and lack of closeness to people. Theyre both loners because of their social status and their fucked up home life. Theyre both providers - nat the hunter, bringer of physical and real food like the deer. Lottie the prophet, bringer of hope and, through the teams eyes, the birds, the bear, etc. Lottie who begs to be a martyr but is denied nat who runs from it but shoulders it anyways. They're both bleeding hearts they both give soul to the team and are some of the most genuine characters but they present it so differently.

The fact that the majority of content grossly mischaracterizes them and is the widely accepted fanon just.. sucks tbh. and the fact that people get so up in arms about them, and literally attack fans of other characters (lottielee fans... travis fans....) for no reason?? all these other characters do is contribute to what makes lottienat such a compelling and fucked up and interesting ship. i love them so much but lwk most of yall are insane and dont even appreciate them for what they really are.

thoughts questions comments concerns hmu

[anniebeemine]

dont have a specific request but im obsessed with singer!reader and spencer if u are inspired to write any more of them <3 such a dreamy au… maybe some hurt comfort if ur feeling evil <3

oh I am always feeling evil hehehe

Part One

warnings: descriptions of a panic attack, ghosting, and a lil bit of relationship troubles

To say your life changed after releasing your last single was an understatement.

The sexual undertones in the lyrics had seemed like a good idea at the time, a bold way to express your love for Spencer. It was meant to be intimate, a tribute to the depth of your connection—a way to immortalize the passion that existed between you both. But the weekend after its release, everything began to shift, as if a fault line had cracked open beneath your already fragile relationship.

Spencer had seemed distant almost immediately. At first, you attributed it to the case he was working on—duty had dragged him away from your release party at the last minute, and you understood. You always understood. His work was important, lives depended on him, and you’d grown used to the unpredictable nature of his schedule. But this time, something felt different. It wasn’t just the case pulling him away, but something deeper, something that nagged at your heart in the quiet moments when you were alone.

You tried not to think about it too much. After all, you were busy too. The sudden success of your single had launched you into a whirlwind of appearances and performances. Late-night shows, pop-up concerts, interviews—you were everywhere, all the time. Your schedule was a relentless, unforgiving beast, one that demanded every ounce of your energy. You didn’t have time to worry about the growing distance between you and Spencer; you were too busy trying to keep up with the pace of your newfound popularity.

But the distance only grew. Spencer called once, late at night, but you had to deny his call. You were on vocal rest, your voice tired and strained from hours of performing. You’d wanted to talk to him, desperately, but your team had insisted you save your voice. So you sent him a text instead, apologizing and promising to call him back the next day. But the next day came and went, and you never got the chance. There was always something—another show, another interview, another commitment that kept you from reaching out.

As the days turned into weeks, the silence between you and Spencer became unbearable. You missed him, more than you could put into words. But every time you tried to bridge the gap, something got in the way. The fault line between you widened with each passing day, and you were powerless to stop it. One evening, as you sat alone in your hotel room after yet another exhausting performance, the weight of it all came crashing down on you. You stared at your phone, your fingers hovering over Spencer’s name in your contacts. You wanted to call him, to hear his voice, to remind yourself that he was still there, still yours. But something held you back. Fear, maybe. Fear that he wouldn’t pick up, or worse, that he would, and you’d hear the same cold distance in his voice that had been there the last time you spoke.

You couldn’t bear the thought, so you didn’t call. Instead, you curled up on the bed, hugging a pillow to your chest as tears welled up in your eyes. You were supposed to be on top of the world right now, riding the high of your success. But all you felt was empty, hollowed out by the loss of the one person who mattered most to you. And so, you lay there, in the dark, wondering if the distance between you and Spencer was something you could ever close—or if it had grown too wide to bridge, leaving you both stranded on opposite sides of a love that had once seemed unbreakable.

Spencer, on the other hand, hadn’t reached out much because he knew you. He knew how you got before performances and appearances—how your knees would get shaky and your hands would tremble with nerves. He knew that despite the confidence you projected on stage, there was a vulnerability underneath that you rarely let anyone see. You were always so focused, so driven, and he didn’t want to add to the pressure by inserting himself into your whirlwind of responsibilities.

He remembers the first time he’d seen it, how you’d clutched the microphone so tightly backstage that your knuckles had turned white. He’d been there for you then, whispering reassuring words, grounding you when your anxiety threatened to overwhelm you. It was a smaller venue, some little bar turned venue for the night. But now, with the world demanding so much of you, he felt guilty for not being there, for not calling as much as he wanted to. He rationalized that he was giving you space, letting you focus, because he knew you’d need every ounce of concentration to navigate the chaos that came with fame. But every time he glanced at his phone and saw your name, guilt gnawed at him. He knew you, knew how deeply you felt things, how you internalized your emotions, often hiding them from everyone, including him. He wondered if you thought he was pulling away, if you were questioning his feelings because of his silence. But then he’d tell himself that you knew better, that you knew he loved you, even if he wasn’t constantly reminding you.

You’d been through so much together, enough that he believed your bond was strong enough to withstand this. He trusted that you understood his reasons, even if they were unspoken. He trusted that you knew he was giving you room to breathe, to shine, without the added weight of his presence or expectations. And he trusted that when you both finally had the time to reconnect, things would fall back into place, as they always had. But the doubt lingered, creeping in late at night when he was alone in his hotel room or his apartment, replaying the last conversation you’d had over the phone. It had been brief, just a few minutes of small talk before you had to rest your voice yet again. He could hear the exhaustion in your tone, the weariness that came from giving so much of yourself to everyone else. And he wanted to be there for you, to hold you and let you lean on him, but he couldn’t. He had to rely on the belief that you understood, that you knew he was thinking of you, even if he wasn’t physically there.

Every time his phone buzzed with another text from you, apologizing for not calling, explaining that you were too tired, he felt a pang of guilt. You shouldn’t have to apologize. He knew how much was on your plate, and he wished he could lighten the load. But all he could do was reassure you through text messages and the occasional call, reminding you that he was there, even if only in spirit.

And so, Spencer waited. He waited for the moment when the dust would settle, when your schedule would calm down enough for you both to reconnect. He waited for the chance to see you again, to hold you close and remind you just how much he loved you. He waited because he believed in you, in your relationship, in the unspoken understanding that had always existed between you. But as he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, he should have reached out more. If he should have pushed through his own insecurities and made more of an effort to stay connected. Because while he knew you understood, he also knew that even the strongest bonds could fray when left unattended for too long. And he didn’t want to risk losing you—not now, not ever.

Spencer sat at his desk, fingers hovering over the keyboard as he stared at the flight details on the screen. His mind raced with thoughts of you, how much he missed the sound of your voice, the warmth of your presence, and the way you always seemed to know exactly what he needed, even before he did. It had been too long since he’d last seen you, and with every passing day, the distance between you felt more like a chasm than a few hundred miles.

He was done waiting, done trying to convince himself that giving you space was the right thing to do. You needed him, and he needed to be there for you. Without hesitation, he started booking the next flight out to the city you were set to perform in. The thought of surprising you, of showing up at your door and wrapping you in his arms, filled him with a sense of urgency and determination.

His heart pounded as he filled in the final details, ready to confirm the purchase. Just as he was about to click the button, his phone rang. The familiar tone of his team’s ringtone cut through the air, shattering the moment. He hesitated, glancing at the screen to see who it was.

It was Hotch.

For a split second, he considered ignoring the call, letting it go to voicemail so he could finish what he’d started. But his sense of duty, the commitment to his job and his team, wouldn’t let him. With a sigh, he picked up the phone.

Spencer’s heart sank. He knew what this meant. The flight would have to wait, the surprise visit postponed. He’d have to push his own needs aside, once again, to focus on his job.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he said, his voice flat.

As he hung up, he stared at the screen, the cursor still hovering over the confirm button. With a heavy heart, he closed the browser. There would be no flight tonight, no last-minute trip to see you. The guilt gnawed at him, the weight of the missed opportunity settling in his chest.

Meanwhile, across the miles, you sat alone in your hotel room, staring at the blank notification screen on your phone. You’d been waiting for his call, for some sign that he was thinking of you as much as you were thinking of him. But the silence stretched on, deafening in its intensity. The calls had become less frequent, the messages shorter, and you couldn’t help but wonder if this was the beginning of the end.

You’d tried to brush off the nagging doubts, telling yourself that he was busy, that he still cared. But as the days turned into weeks, the distance between you felt less like a temporary inconvenience and more like a growing divide. You missed him, missed the way he used to be there for you, the way he used to make you feel like the most important person in the world. With every unanswered call, every unreturned message, it was becoming harder to believe that things would ever go back to the way they were. Maybe he was pulling away because he’d realized that your lives were moving in different directions. Maybe he was letting you go, bit by bit, without ever saying the words out loud.

The thought made your chest ache, a sharp pain that you couldn’t ignore. You wanted to reach out to him, to ask him if he was still there, still invested in what you had. But the fear of hearing what you didn’t want to kept you silent. You didn’t want to push him away by asking for too much, by demanding more than he was willing to give.

So, you sat there in that hotel room, feeling the weight of the silence between you. You told yourself that you were overreacting, that he was just busy, that things would be okay. But deep down, a small voice whispered that maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of the end.

And as the hours ticked by, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something precious was slipping away, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

+++

The minutes felt like hours as you sat backstage, your heart pounding in your chest like a drumbeat you couldn't control. The sparkly jumpsuit you wore felt heavy against your skin, the bedazzled sleeves suddenly suffocating and itchy. Your hair had been styled to perfection, your makeup painstakingly applied, but it all felt like a mask—one you were struggling to hold together.

You bent over, clutching your stomach as the tears welled up, desperate not to ruin the carefully crafted look. The air around you seemed to grow thinner with each passing second, your breaths coming in shallow, rapid gasps. The walls of the dressing room felt like they were closing in, the noise from the stage beyond the door distant and muffled, as though you were underwater.

It was happening again, that creeping sensation of panic that had been your unwelcome companion ever since your life had taken this turn. Your vision blurred, and you blinked rapidly to clear it, but the edges of your sight remained fuzzy, the lights too bright, too harsh. Your hands trembled as you pressed them against your knees, trying to ground yourself, trying to keep from losing it completely.

But it was no use. The song you were about to perform—the song that had once been a testament to the love you shared with Spencer—now felt like a cruel joke. The lyrics were seared into your mind, each word a painful reminder of how things had changed, of the distance that had grown between you. What had once been a celebration of your love now brought up a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach, a knot that tightened with every passing moment.

You couldn’t do this. Not tonight. Not when everything felt so wrong.

With shaking hands, you pulled out your phone and dialed Spencer’s number, your heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst. The call rang once, twice, and then, mercifully, he picked up.

“Spencer?” you choked out, your voice breaking as you fought to keep the tears at bay. “Please… I need to talk to you.”

There was a pause on the other end, long enough to make your heart sink further, before Spencer’s voice came through, soft and steady. “Hold on,” he said, and then the line went dead.

You stared at the phone in disbelief, the world tilting on its axis. He hadn’t even tried to say anything more, hadn’t offered any comfort. It felt like a confirmation of your worst fears—that he was done, that you were on your own now. Your chest tightened painfully, and you knew you couldn’t do this. You couldn’t go out there and perform a song that had become a lie. You were on the verge of calling it off, of telling everyone that you were done for the night, when the door to your dressing room flew open. Spencer burst through, his hair disheveled, his face flushed with urgency. A security guard was hot on his heels, trying to get him to stop, but your manager waved him off, herding everyone out of the room to give you both some privacy.

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still as Spencer crossed the room, his eyes locking onto yours with a look of pure determination. You barely had time to register what was happening before he was there, in front of you, his hands reaching out to cup your face, wiping away the tears that had already started to fall.

“Hey, hey,” he murmured, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. “I’m here. I’m sorry it took me so long, but I’m here now.”

The dam broke, and the sobs you’d been holding back came pouring out. You collapsed into his arms, burying your face in his chest as he held you close, his arms wrapping around you like a lifeline. The panic that had been clawing at your throat began to ease, replaced by the warmth of his embrace, the steady beat of his heart against yours.

“I didn’t know what to do,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I thought you didn’t care anymore.”

“Of course I care,” Spencer said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve been going crazy not being with you, not hearing your voice. I’ve been so stupid, thinking that giving you space was the right thing to do. But I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.”

You pulled back slightly to look up at him, your vision still blurred with tears, but for the first time in weeks, there was a glimmer of hope. “You mean that?”

“I mean it,” he said, his thumb brushing away the last of your tears. “I love you, and I’m not going to let anything come between us. Not my job, not your career—nothing.”

A shaky breath escaped you, and you nodded, feeling the tension in your chest finally start to loosen. “I love you too, Spencer. I’m just… scared.”

“I know,” he said, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “But you don’t have to be. We’ll figure this out together, okay?”

You nodded again, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Okay.”

Spencer smiled back, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt like everything might actually be okay. The storm that had been raging inside you began to calm, and with Spencer by your side, you knew you could face whatever came next.

Spencer held you close for a moment longer, his embrace firm but gentle, grounding you in a way that made the world feel less chaotic. Slowly, he pulled back and looked into your eyes, his gaze filled with warmth and understanding. He reached up to gently wipe away the remnants of your tears, his fingers tender against your skin.

"Let me tell you something," he said softly, his voice like a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. "Did you know that this city has a history of resilience? It’s seen so much—fire, storms, all kinds of upheavals—and yet it’s always come back stronger. Every building, every street, carries a story of overcoming challenges. It's like the people here refuse to be beaten down, no matter what."

His words wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, the tension in your shoulders beginning to melt away. Spencer’s voice was steady, reassuring, as he continued to speak, telling you about the city’s history with a calm passion that you had always admired. He traced the lines of your face with his thumb, wiping away the streaks of mascara and eyeliner that had run with your tears.

“And you’re just like that,” he continued, his tone filled with quiet conviction. “You’ve faced so much, yet here you are, still standing, still shining. That’s what makes you strong, and it’s why I know you’ll get through this too.”

You closed your eyes, letting his words sink in, feeling the warmth of his love and belief in you. When you opened your eyes again, you found Spencer watching you with a gentle smile, his gaze full of admiration. The anxiety that had gripped you so tightly just moments ago had loosened its hold, replaced by a sense of calm and resolve.

“I think…” you began, your voice barely a whisper, “I think I want to do this. But not like this.” You gestured to your sparkly jumpsuit, the heavy makeup that had been meticulously applied now smudged and streaked. It had never been part of your image anyway, management just needed something to make you stand out.

Spencer’s eyes searched yours, understanding dawning as he nodded. “You don’t need all this,” he said, echoing your unspoken thoughts. “Just be you. That’s all anyone really wants to see.”

With newfound determination, you took a deep breath and stood up, Spencer’s hand steadying you as you did. You reached for the tissues on the vanity and started wiping away the rest of the makeup, the motions steady and sure now, no longer hurried or frantic. Spencer watched you quietly, his presence a comforting constant as you removed each layer until your face was bare, fresh, and free.

The sparkly jumpsuit was next. You slipped out of it, changing into the simple, comfortable clothes you had worn earlier in the day—a soft sweater and jeans that felt like home. Spencer stood by, giving you the space you needed but never straying far, his presence a silent reassurance.

When you were ready, you turned to him, your heart racing in a different way now—a mix of nerves and excitement, but no longer fear. “Just me," you said, your voice firm.

Spencer’s smile widened, a look of pride shining in his eyes. “You’re going to be amazing,” he said, his words filled with sincerity. “I’ll be right there, in the front row, cheering you on.”

You nodded, your heart swelling with gratitude and love. Together, you made your way out of the dressing room and toward the stage. As you walked, Spencer continued to talk to you in that soothing, steady voice, telling you more about the city, about its people, their stories, all the while keeping your mind focused and calm.

When you reached the stage, the crew was a little surprised to see you in your plain clothes, makeup-free, but they quickly adjusted, respecting your choice without question. Spencer gave your hand one last squeeze before he moved to take his seat in the audience, his eyes never leaving yours.

As you stepped out onto the stage, the lights dimming and the music beginning, you found Spencer’s face in the crowd. He was right there, exactly where he promised he would be, his expression full of encouragement and love. The words to the song came naturally, but this time, they felt different. They weren’t just lyrics anymore; they were a part of you, a reflection of everything you had been through, everything you were still standing for. Your eyes stayed locked on Spencer’s as you sang, the connection between you palpable even across the space. The crowd faded into the background, their presence a distant hum compared to the light in his eyes. Every note, every word, was for him, and in that moment, you felt free—free to be yourself, free to love, free to embrace the strength Spencer had reminded you was always there.

As the final note lingered in the air, the applause erupted around you, a thunderous wave of sound that filled the entire venue.

Without thinking, without even acknowledging the cheering crowd, you ran off the stage, your feet moving before your mind could catch up. Spencer was already on his feet, weaving his way through the crowd toward you, his eyes wide with anticipation.

You reached him in what felt like an instant, the distance between you vanishing in a heartbeat. The moment you were close enough, you practically jumped into his arms, your momentum knocking the breath out of both of you. Spencer’s arms snaked around your waist, holding you tightly against him as if he never wanted to let go.

His familiar scent enveloped you, grounding you even as your emotions threatened to overwhelm you. You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, the rest of the world fading away as the connection between you pulsed with intensity.

Before you could think twice, you leaned in and kissed him, your lips meeting his in a rush of passion and relief. The kiss was everything you had been holding back, all the words you hadn’t said, the fears and the love all tangled up in one fierce, desperate embrace. Spencer kissed you back with equal fervor, his hands pressing into your lower back as if to fuse you both together, your bodies fitting together perfectly.

The noise of the crowd dimmed in your ears, the rest of the room a blur as you lost yourself in the moment. It was just you and Spencer, the rest of the world forgotten, your hearts beating in sync.

When you finally broke apart, breathless and flushed, it was only then that you noticed the cameras. They were pointed directly at you, capturing the entire scene—the kiss, the embrace, the love written all over both of your faces. The realization hit you like a shock of cold water, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

Spencer’s hands moved to cup your face, his thumb brushing away a stray tear you hadn’t realized had fallen. “You were incredible,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

You smiled, a small, shaky laugh escaping your lips. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

The cameras continued to click, the flashes lighting up the space around you, but none of it mattered. You leaned in to press your forehead against Spencer’s, closing your eyes and letting the world see what it had only been hinted at before.

Your relationship was no longer a secret, no longer something to be hidden away. The world now knew what you had been quietly cherishing all along—that you were in love, deeply, truly, and unapologetically.

And as Spencer’s arms tightened around you, holding you close, you knew that no matter what came next, you were ready to face it together, hand in hand, heart to heart, just as it had always been.

[drdemonprince]

Any chance you'd expand on the hank hill trans guy post? (Sorry, best indicator I could come up with.) The concept interests me as I decidedly know my maleness, yet don't feel impeded by for the most part, any male gendered norms/boxes. I am fairly masculine, though I rarely use those kinds terms to describe myself. I have found I often do stray outside of what society pushed for me when I transitioned, yet I again do not feel it has taken from my right to maleness whatsoever. I am just me, who happens to be male. I have had friends try and suggest I am NB adjacent but I do not feel this way whatsoever. I feel more people are outliers to gender expectation than we care to admit and it's disappointing the way cis-people deny that. Hope this wasn't too long winded, I value your writing and perspective, and wanted to hear more of your thoughts on this.

Yeah, well so many things all get conflated by gender labels, and it's all so personal, you know? Masculinity does not have to mean maleness, and a person's gender identity might be a reflection of some innate quality they experience themselves as having, or a general summary of their tendencies, or their desired presentation, or their sense of affinity with other people, or an interpersonal tool, or something they just go along with because it was given to them by society, or any other number of things.

I think my recent substack piece on detransition goes into this pretty well, and I have an upcoming piece of what @pastimperfection calls "bilateral dysphoria" that comes out next week that delves into it too.

I think I mostly saw taking on a male identity as a means to an end more than any kind of innate reflection of who I was, though I did feel an affinity with effeminate men for a lot of reasons. I think I also discounted how much I have in common with my fellow nonbinary people of all stripes, because that identity became so strongly associated with being an annoying type of queer person that everybody else just wrote off as ultimately being their assigned gender at birth anyway no matter how much they protested. it doesn't help that 'nonbinary' is a catchall term for literally thousands if not millions of very distinct experiences and desires.

transitioning gave me control over how i was perceived, finally, but hormones are a throttle that only go in one very specific direction, and you don't really have all that much control over which changes kick in at which times and what people will make of you once you do start registering to them as some identity other than what you were first saddled with. it's an incredible gift to be able to toggle that throttle. but it's limited, not because medical transition isn't incredible and needed for so many, but because there is no escaping the goddamned binary cissexist logic that influences everything about how people treat you, how you navigate institutions, who finds you desirable and what they want out of you, and so much else.

if you're able to cast a lot of the external societal bullshit aside and feel strong in your maleness, maybe you're stronger than me or maybe our orientation to these things is just different, i don't know. i was never all that sensitive to feedback that i was doing the whole being-a-woman-thing all that wrong. i reveled in violating those rules to an extent. succeeding at being a woman despite my best attempts was what felt super dysphoric. and now i guess im succeeding at being a man, insofar as im always read as one, and it feels just as uncomfortable and objectifying and false. i thought that with manhood i could probably just grit my teeth and deal with it, but i'm finding that i can't.

ive always been very open that for me, gender is a thing I Do, and i guess to those who know me well it wouldnt be surprising to hear that i have gotten tired of Doing Being a Man and dont feel like playing that particular gendered game anymore. I tend to get bored of things! and find the flaws in things. and find my comfort in being fault-finding and contrarian and not being a joiner. and thats okay. i learned a lot along the way. not having to try any more is a huge relief. i can just do whatever. and know actively that people will more often than not be wrong in what they make of me.

maybe it was natural feeling for you to decidely 'know' your maleness without a care for masculine standards because that is the right identity for you! and maybe i only feel secure in the "not knowing" realm and in letting go of what people think of me or finding any kind of tidy categorization for it because that's the right spot for me. for now. until i find a new interesting way to be unhappy and striving for more and different again. :) that's just part of being alive, for me.

[hypnoneghoul]

So I had a thought, and your writing would capture this best in my opinion: Phantom coming back to the abbey, finding Aether, and proceeds to have the most Ghoultism conversation about his first tour and what he experienced. And he’s such a little cutie that he doesn’t stop him.

im sorry it took me ages whaaaaa :(

but im here! and thank you for considering me the best man for the job, hope i don't dissapoint hahahah

some ghautistic phantom rambles under the cut :)

Aether didn't exactly know what saying 'tell me everything' to Phantom would mean for him. He didn't expect him to literally tell him everything. He did feel a bit like complaining, at first, he had better things to do. Not to say he didn't absolutely adore Phantom or that he was ignorant or selfish. Not at all, quite the opposite. Aether just really had a lot of work.

But Phantom was so adorable, he was so excited to tell the older ghoul all the stories from tour. Aether couldn't just stop him, could he?

"People were throwing us so many plushies, there's so many on the bus and everyone has some for themselves and I even got a few bats!" Phantom ranted so fast he was nearly out of breath. "I love bats so much, Aether, how did they even know!?"

"I have no idea, kid, but I'm happy you got some gifts from the fans," he chuckled. Phantom was too adorable for his own good.

"They know our names too! And they gave us so many different things, a lot of bracelets with our names, flowers and I even got a letter! A LETTER, Aeth, just for me!" he beamed.

"I saw you also got some flags thrown onto the stage, yeah?" Aether prompted. He should've probably bite his tongue if he wanted to leave the common room in the next 24 hours but Phantom was just too cute.

"YEAH! There were those rainbow ones and the other colorful one, you taught me about them when I was first summoned. The colorful one is for the whole community some humans are in, right? When they don't really fuck with everyone, just specific people?"

"Something like that," Aether giggled. It was one way to put it, especially with how Phantom perceived things Topside.

"The other one was the blue, white and pink and I think that's the one people use when their junk doesn't match their head? Like Dew and Sunny, they'd be them too if they were humans, yeah?"

"Yes, kid, it's called being transgender, for humans."

"Yes! People were so happy when we picked them up, Swiss too, I think it meant a lot to them. I think a lot of our fans are colorful humans, don't you think?" Phantom asked and actually paused for a second. Not a rhetorical question, then.

"I don't just think so, I know it. I used to check the internet a lot, the thing on your phone that you don't like. They say a lot of nice stuff about us all there, and yes, a lot of them are colorful, as you called it."

"'m happy I could make them feel... seen, then, you know? Swiss told me once their lives aren't really easy. That's sad," he pouted as he picked on a loose thread on his pant leg.

"That's true. But there's no reason for you to get sad now, kid. Tell me more, what else happened?" Phantom was not only a cutie, he was also really sensitive and Aether would much rather spend hours listening to his excited rambles than his sobbing.

"Oh, we visited so many fun places! The girls took a lot of pictures, they should show you! World is so big and there's so many different things in it, it was so exciting, Aether!"

"Oh, believe me, I know. Terzo loved travelling, when we toured with him there was no way to sneak out of a mandatory sightseeing in every city we got to. It was more tiring than playing itself. Mountain always ended up with Dew half asleep on his back on our way back to the hotel or a bus," it was true, the only thing that could've saved them from Terzo's traveling hunger was him himself being dead exhausted. Didn't happen often.

"Must've been fun! But yeah all of that was really tiring, we all napped when we could, even if for a moment. It's good you taught me all the basics of quintessence, I was helping everyone with their pains and when Dew couldn't sleep!"

"I'm proud of you, kid. I'm glad you liked touring and had so much fun," Aether sighed. He really was, even if he missed it already himself.

"Oh, and one time..."

[ohbo-ohno]

After rotating your non con puppy play ghoap stories in my head non stop, I had a Thought:

There's fleshlights that are short and open ended called quickshots, and maybe Ghost decides one day not to cage his pup for their walk, but instead to be really mean and let Soap get hard, encourage it even, but shame Soap in the process. He slips the quickshot over just the head of Soap's cock where its so sensitive and then uses KT tape to adhere it to Soap's belly. As his pup crawls after him, the stimulation gets him hard and yay he's not caged but oh no now he's hard and his cock is out the end of the toy and on full display and he can't do anything about it and Ghost (or one of the others) comments on how the pup must be enjoying his walk, look his little cock is out of its "sheath". Can't stop crawling after Ghost, can't touch himself, can't stop the stimulation or get soft, just whimpers even more

(If this is too much I'm sorry, please ignore! - 🦨)

this is referencing my lil mini noncon puppy play verse - howling and barking, kinktober 11, kinktober 20, and this oneshot!! go read the triggers of at least one of them, they'll apply to this too :)

okay okay okay hello skunk you've come in with a hell of an ask for your first!!

my day 11 kinktober is (to my knowledge??) my only foray into public sex, and it was smth i did to try and push myself a bit - that day specifically is probably the only piece of my stuff that i felt actually kind of uncomfortable writing, it gets to me for some reason haha. public sex is usually a hard no for me

it also exists in that limbo kind of universe that any heavy bdsm erotica does, which is like "this is not at all realistic or really possible, but we're all horny here so get over it" yknow??

anywayssss

i had to google quickshots (here, for those curious lol) and (1) they will almost definitely be making an appearance in my stuff at some point because you cannot tell me that ghost wouldn't edge soap with that and (2) im obsessed with your vision

smth about soap's dick being taped to his stomach... keeps trying to hump something to get any stimulation but all it does is rub the head of his dick against his abs :( maybe if he works had enough the quickshot will shift just the tiniest bit, but it's never enough to do anything for him

he'll be kneeling beside ghost outside while the other man smokes a cigarette, quivering and just barely shifting his hips, whimpering and whining cause he's so desperate but he doesn't want to humiliate himself further :( inches his hips just a little further up once and yips real loudly, nearly crumples in on himself when he hears laughter

nearly collapses on the walk back to their room because he's so fucking close and ghost just drags him along, nearly strangles him with the leash :( johnny's yipping and barking, trying so hard to crawl fast enough and the way his chest heaves and the way he curls in on himself a bit rubs his cock just right and he's got the really long, really miserable orgasm as ghost drags him along :( hears ghost groan and complain about being tired of having to clean up after his puppy :(

[bbyquokka]

hello! i recently found your blog and adore your writing and was wondering if you could write ot8 reaction to you getting your nipples pierced 👀 if you’re not comfortable writing all of them specifically felix, han, and lee know 💕

hii! im so glad you adore my content! thank you for your request and for being patient. i hope this is what you wanted. this is my first ot8 reaction so please let me know your thoughts and opinions on this! 💭

skz reacts to you getting your nipples pierced •°. *࿐

➥ pairing: all x fem!reader

➥ genre: smut [suggestive themes] MDNI

➥ synopsis: you get / have your nipples pierced.

➥ warnings: piercings, implications of nipple and breast play, photo taking during intimate moments - if i missed any, lmk!

➥ words: 1.6k

➥ have a request? send it to me here. read my rules to learn about my guidelines before submitting requests

➥ m.list – ➥ ao3

ʚ Bang Chan ɞ

He'd come with you to the piercing shop. He'd be holding your hand and watching with very beady eyes to make sure the piercer is going their job [ofc they are. chan is just very protective]

You'd be fine with it, the pain wasn't as bad as you thought however, Chan would be the one cringing, asking you countless times if you're okay

As you're healing, he would be very gentle and careful with you. He doesn't want to cause you any more discomfort. He'd be handing you painkillers and ice cold compress.

He'd want to help you clean up your fresh piercings so you would allow him to. Standing in the bathroom, you'd show him how to clean them. Chan would be hyper focused, watching you to make sure he gets it right

Nipple piercings take a while to heal so that means no touching. Chan wouldn't mind it at the beginning but as time goes on, he's dying for a touch. He just wants to play with your nipples, flick his tongue over the bars, just one little touch is all he wants.

ʚ Lee Know ɞ

You got it done whilst you was drunk (don't ever get a piercing whilst drunk, terrible idea btw) thinking it was a good idea

it was, until you got home and fell asleep. You awoke the next morning with a pain in your breasts. You rushed down to Minho and practically flashed him "Look!! I have my nipples pierced!"

The poor man wouldn't know where to look, blood rushing south in an instant. He's angry at you for doing something so reckless but at the same time, he cannot deny the fact that it looks so attractive to him

He knows not to touch whilst healing but he just wants to. So much so that he'd often find himself fantasizing about playing with your nipples

He's ecstatically to know that you're finally healed because that meant he can have a lot of fun with them.

ʚ Changbin ɞ

Changbin would be unsure about it. He cannot decide whether he loves them or not. He's supportive in whatever you do to your body (it is your body after all), he's just not sure

It's not that he's not a fan of body mods, it's just, he knows the dangers and how long it takes for nipples to heal – especially with his own knowledge about the human body due to training.

In his mind, he's looking out for you, which is sweet of him. You know Changbin isn't 100% sure but you went to get them pierced regardless.

You kept it a secret for some time, making excuses when you and Changbin would be intermit with each other. "It's been a long day." "I'm tired." "Maybe tomorrow, Binnie."

Being the sweetheart that he is, he'd understand however he cannot help but feel like you're hiding something for him. It wasn't until you was getting undressed and Changbin accidently walked in on you

His eyes naturally gazed down to you breasts, the metal bar between your nipples showing. His mind went blank. He always thought he wouldn't be too keen on nipple piercings, yet here he is, stood in front of you with a raging hard on.

You'd splutter, trying to hide your breasts because you're worried about what Changbin will think. You didn't want him to hate them, that's for sure so when he found out accidently, you was so sure he would freak out

He took you by surprise when he walked to you, cupping your breasts in his hands. His gaze fixated on the bar that was through your nipples. He would ask you whether it hurts or not and if you was healed.

He'd be hyper fixated on your breasts during intimate time. his hands never leaving you breasts, tongue contently flicking over your bud.

"I thought I wouldn't be so keen, yet here I am, unable to keep my hands off you."

ʚ Hyunjin ɞ

Hyunjin would love the idea of you getting your nipples pierced – he'd even get one himself if he was brave enough

We all know Hyunjin is super artistic so for the next month's, your breats/nipples are all he would draw. No one would that it's your breasts he is constantly drawing. There's just something artistic Hyunjin finds in you having your nipples pierced.

Sometimes, he would ask for you to pose for him. Dressing you in nothing but a sheer top so your nipples could be seen. You'd feel shy, posing for Hyunjin in such a lewd way, but you didn't hate it – you love that Hyunjin adores your decorated nipples.

During intimacy, Hyunjin would he quick to pull out his camera and snap a few photos (possibly videos) of you. He'd stash them away in a secret folder, to save for a rainy day.

ʚ Jisung ɞ

He'd be the one to suggest a nipple piercing, claiming it would look oh so attractive on you. (he most likely saw some anime girl that looked like you with her nipples pierced 🤷🏻‍♀️)

What he didn't bank on, is that in reality, it looked a thousand times better than what he thought.

The poor boy wouldn't know what to do or where to look. Having to wait for them to heal would be torture to him.

When they are healed, oh boy, it's like something deep within him has come out. we all know Jisung had some perverted tendencies to him so its not surprise he would request you to wear no bras, sheer / revealing clothing.

When in public, Jisung would a hundred percent have to drag you to the public restrooms, due to the fact that he cannot get your breasts out off his mind (and the fact your wearing little to no clothing underneath your coat)

Soon, your nipples would get sore and tender from Jisung playing with them too much. The poor boy just don't know when to stop. whilst your poor nipples are healing (once again), Jisung would result to taking photos, much like Hyunjin, saving them in his folder specifically named 'wank material'

He's so in love with your piercings that he would buy the majority of your nipple jewellery. It would range from pink bars, hearts, bats, explicit wording – you name it! If Jisung thinks it looks nice on you, he buys it. although, he does like the pink, glittery hearts, they give that 'innocent' affect on you and he loves it.

ʚ Felix ɞ

Felix loves your body, body mods or not. When you show him your piercings for the first time, he would be stunned

Like Changbin, he doesn't hate it but it takes some time to get use to. He liked that you had this innocent feel to him and now seeing you with nipple piercings stripped away that feel.

To Felix, your happiness is everything to him, so if you're happy, he is happy. He would be so delicate around your breast, scared of touching or playing with them in case he accidentally pulled one out

Months in and Felix was getting use to seeing metal in your nipples, although he was still very very careful around you. It wasn't until one intimate moment where Felix was so consumed by pleasure that he forgot

He flicked and rolled your nipples between his fingers. Your moans would be nothing like he has heard before. Your piercings left your nipples hyper sensitive – so sensitive you could cum just from them being played with

Felix loved that. His dom side showing straight away. He made it his goal to make you cum purely from playing with your sensitive nipples. He felt some type of accomplishment when he managed to do that "You see that? I did that to you, no one else but me. Don't you forget that."

Like Jisung, Felix would also like to buy you your jewellery, however, unlike Jisung who liked the 'innocent' look, Felix would buy you jewellery that would represent him. That way, he was always with you, no matter where or when. He liked that controlling aspect of it

ʚ Seungmin ɞ

i feel like Seungmin wouldn't really care. Of course he would have his opinions on it and that would be that it doesn't look that bad, however, I feel like Seungmin doesn't have much to say or feel about body mods in generally

he strikes me as the type of person to be like "It's your body, you go for it. As long as you're happy and safe, that's all that matters."

ʚ Jeongin / I.N ɞ

being the maknae, I feel like he doesn't have much experience when it comes to this type of things

How does he react? Feel? He would be so overwhelmed with his thoughts and feelings that he would lag, cheeks and ears flush red. He would act like a virgin, all shy and flustered

You'd find it adorable. That little sadistic side of you would tease him. You'd flash him randomly, grab his hand and place it on your breast so he could feel your piercing. You love his reaction, so much so that you would want to dom him in the bedroom department

and dominate you did. One look and he would be weak at the knees, flustered and shy. He would melt into your touch, his mind fuzzy with so many thoughts and possibilities.

He would be so gentle with you – maybe too gentle. You would have to ask him to be a bit rougher with you, claiming that it's okay when he would object. You love seeing his hands gripping your breasts. Your breasts would look so small in his hands (I mean, he does have big hands and long fingers, like, c'mon!) you adore it!

[thecameronchronicles]

Quality Over Quantity

TW: angst. Smut. Fluff. 

SUMMARY: Your relationship with Trevor is strained from a lack of quality time. He makes it up to you just as you find your own way to do the same…

Word Count: 2600

REQUESTED:

@beautifulvoidwinner asked

HI! Over the few days I've fell in love with your work. I was wondering if I could put in a request for a fanfic of trevor from hellraiser, maybe a fluff and smut? 

So Basically Y/n and Trevor haven't been spending a lot of time together because he's been getting a lot of shady jobs causing him to not have a lot of time for you so 1 night after work he decides to go vist Y/n at work (she's a bartender) and they start quietly fighting about how much he's neglected her, after her shift they both go home and have sex (so that he can show how much he loves her) then they apologize for everything that was said (while they were fighting), after all that they cuddle and watch a movie maybe??? 

IM SO BAD AT EXPLAINING IM SORRY

- Your newest fan 

*FIRST OF ALL, THANK YOU! I LOVE WRITING FOR TREVOR! AND YOUR WORDS ARE SO BEYOND SWEET. THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT AND WAITING UNTIL MARCH ❤️ HOPE YOU ENJOY!*

Quality Over Quantity

You should have been used to his absence by now, and yet it set you in a bad mood for the duration of any day you couldn't wake up in his arms. Which had become more and more frequent. A set of schedules never quite in tune as they once may have been as you were left making up for the role he now failed to continue. Such thoughts continued through your mind as you made the bed, craving the specific way the sheets were left in disarray into the way you clawed at them from the multitude of sensations that made up for the time apart. But now it only seemed to be a bittersweet reminder of passions left to simmer. If only you were able to feel the same attention from your boyfriend as the patrons at the bar, you wouldn't have crossed the threshold with that same scowl. 

"Still nothing?" Your colleague and closest friend asked as she finished off a martini for an elderly woman and you crafted a Negroni for a collegiate male trying to impress some girl with his drink of choice. 

"You know, playing hard to get has yet to fail."

"I don't have to. He's never home…" You sighed with your hand set on your hip as you stood in wait for another customer. 

"Maybe motivate him a bit?" A decorative cocktail sword was positioned at the already unlatched button of your uniform top. 

"Slip away to the bathroom and send him a few photos? Bet he'd come home pretty quick…"

"I can't…He is just trying to help make bills. I just wish he didn't have to have such weird hours…weird jobs, too…" She nodded. 

"Well I miss when you smiled. So do what you have to do and just let me know if I need to cover ya." 

A series of smirks and orders broke up your conversation until you became swamped with the happy hour crowd. Those coming in after dinner or with significant others had been the reason you didn't need to follow in Trevor's steps. The tips were well worth the misogynistic comments and sexualized glances. Even those bold enough to hit on you despite the fact you offered only the necessary smirk to warrant a compliment in the form of a few singles. 

"How much?"

"Still not enough for my yacht." You teased.

"Maybe enough for your break to be spent with me?" A familiar voice drew your eyes upwards as you found his tired gaze looking at you with relief. 

"Trevor…"

"Do you-" You turned to your friend, her arms already pushing you out from behind the bar before you could finish your question. 

"Take care of our girl." She hinted to Trevor, who offered a grin of discomfort before you pulled him to the booth in the far corner. 

"I only have a few minutes before I have to get ready for the delivery for later but-" You let out a sigh, retracting your hands as he'd taken hold of them over the surface of the table. Arms crossed at your chest, eyes focusing on the stain of this specific table, he moved closer towards you. 

"I promise it won't always be like this…"

"You said that last time. Months ago…"

"I'm trying…" He expressed a self-deprecating exhale. 

"I hate waking up alone. I hate seeing you only to say goodbye…Do you even remember how long it's been since we…"

"I know. Believe me, I know…But I also can't let everything fall on you."

"So it's your pride…Trevor if it means we get to see each other, just let me-"

"No. I'm supposed to take care of you, feminism and masculinity aside, I want to."

"Then be home…I miss you…" 

"I have to go…" He explained as his phone buzzed, an alarm set to remind him of the need to be punctual. 

"Soon baby…I promise." You allowed the swift peck on your lips but kept still as he produced it. His own frustration would be felt but ignored by you both until he left. As you returned behind the bar, you threw yourself into the remainder of the shift. Wishing everyone a safe night, you moved back to the direction of your apartment at the end of the block, climbing the stairs and struggling to open the door with your frustration. All because you knew what awaited you on the other side of that door. 

Another night of entertaining yourself with some rerun played only for background noise as you ate a meal heated up for the third night in a row, finishing with a lukewarm shower and fighting tears as you fell asleep. At least this was how the other nights had gone. 

The second the door came open, you saw candles lining every surface. The cheap kind with a sentiment meaning as much as the most expensive of wax illuminating the scene. 

"It isn't homemade or anything, but it's the effort that counts, right?" He asked while pulling the takeout containers from the restaurant he'd taken you on your first date. 

"They didn't have those sauce packets you like, so I went to the store and got two that if you mix together should come close…oh, and I'll do the dishes, consider it-" His list was enough of an aphrodisiac against your former frustrations. Pulling him down into you, you fisted the fabric of his oversized shirt until you felt him understand your desperations. 

"You're not hungry?"

"Not for that." You explained as he smirked, taking over the lead as he began at your shirt. A gentle touch to your skin beneath rivaled the best behind your eager grip to leave him bare for you. Even if you knew his body well, rode against his muscles in thrusts as both receiver and instigator, you craved it more now than ever. Having felt prohibited to touch him until now. 

"Wait, don't you have a job in-" You paused as your eyes came to the clock behind him on the stove. The very one that had only ever been used once since you moved in with him. 

"Only one job I need to focus on…" He explained as he teased your hand against his swollen seam. You bit your bottom lip. 

"Tonight's about you, baby…Making up for so many nights alone."

"That is quite a feat, Trevor. So many nights alone…" He smirked. 

"Better get started then." You were lifted around him and into the bedroom, tossed rather abruptly on the bed before he stood between your legs. 

"Did you know this when you went to see me earlier?" He paused. 

"I moved some things around. Prioritized…" You grinned. "So you're mine tonight."

"I'm yours every night." You explained as he pulled your pants clean from your legs, exposing the plumb lace left beneath. 

"Yeah? Well then I've been missing out…" You watched him as he kissed along your thigh as your leg bent in unrest. A sweet string of kisses towards your sex already had your eyes in a roll and your back in an arch as he continued to your center. 

"Trevor…" 

"Just feel me, baby…" His low tone added decadent sensuality just before the volt of pleasure as he began slowly between your folds. His tongue was the artist to your blank canvas below, the intention to cover you to drip for him, a masterpiece possible by his tongue alone. Your fingers ran through the short buzz of his hair, desperate to pull at the absent strands that found accomodations in the sheets at your side. But with each rise of your hips to deepen his tongue or motion for more, he would only slow. 

"I have a lot of nights to make up for…"

"I need more…" To that, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before resting back over you. Palms to the bed for only a moment as he kissed you sweetly enough to forget of anything but his tongue grazing your bottom lip. 

"Don't need this…" He spoke to himself as he dismantled his belt and you crossed your arms over your torso in order to remove your shirt. It took only a second before you were left in only your lingerie. 

"If I thought this was happening, I would have worn something that matched…"

"What do you mean?" He asked as he kissed your breasts. "It's my favorite pair…" Your eyes narrowed. The old bra with the worn clasp was definitely not among your favorites so you questioned how it could be his. 

"Any pair I can make wet are my favorite." You blushed, unaware how you missed such dirty words until now. Even such promiscuous words he somehow made so sweet. 

"But my absolute favorite are the ones on our floor…" He grinned, pulling down the center of your bra until your nipples were exposed. 

"This still feel as good as before?" He asked, taking one nipple behind his teeth, sucking it slowly as his tongue moved over the hard mound. All while his hand accommodate the other side. When you didn't respond in anything but a pair of parted lips and unsteady breathing, he mirrors his motions now to the other side. 

"That good, baby?"

"Please, Trevor."

"You don't have to beg…Just show me what you want…" You rose your hips against his lower abdomen. 

"You wanna be on top?" You nodded. 

"Anyway…." You confessed as his smirk widened. 

"Dealer's choice? That's unfortunate for you, baby…" He kissed you sweetly, onto to set you onto your stomach. 

"It's gonna be a long night…" But where you expected to feel a quick and rough penetration from limiting patience, you found him to pull you to the very edge of the bed. His tongue returned to you, only now, from this new angle. 

"Trevor…TREVOR!" You called out to him in repetition born from desperation and need. 

"Fuck, you're already close for me, aren't you?" You whimpered, facing him and finding only his eyes just peeking from over your ass. His fingers gripped into the sheets having existed as further evidence of his affect on you. 

"Fuck me. Trevor…I can't take it…" 

"Not yet, baby…"

"Please…" You winced before he stood upwards, a swift slap to your ass before that same hand climbed along your curves and to your cheek. The rest only came when he took your hair. 

"I missed how you look at me…On your knees." You were quick to take the hint, crawling into position as he moaned to the feeling of only your breath on his naked cock. 

"It's been a little bit. But I know you remember just how I-" His breath hitched as you took him slowly at first. Savoring his taste and the automatic precum from the initial connection, you took him in depth as your name became the motivation to bypass the discomfort of his length. 

"Baby…fuck…" 

Your hand came in a wrap at his base, twisting to his tip as your tongue broke from his shaft and to the sensitive and heavy spheres beneath. You took your time seducing him, his inability to speak acting as proof of your success. 

"Now." Was all he could muster as he pulled you back up to him. A deep and tender kiss rivaling the selfish need to claim you at this instant, even through your tears and rasps left behind from your endeavors. 

"Trevor…" You moaned as he pinned you beneath him with his weight. His dominant hand pulling both above your head. 

"Don't hold back on me…I want to hear just how much you've missed this…" He explained just before that initial thrusts. The body already failing beneath you as he hid his groan into your chest. Once that first sensation set the stage for the growing pace, be refocused on your body. 

"Fuck, you feel so good…" He groaned with your breast taken by both his hand and his mouth as you writhed against him. 

"Harder!" You pleaded as he obliged. 

"That good baby?"

"Kiss me…" He consented once more. Only now, feeling your desperate breaths behind his lips. 

"Oh my God!" 

"Not yet…"

"I can't wait…"

"Baby…with me…" He slowed before lifting you around him, your body set in a new position of a straddle as you reclaimed dominance as he served as an outlet beneath you. Nails tracing down your shoulders and to your hips until he kept you in place to offer. A break to the ache forming in your thighs. 

"Baby-" Trevor warned as he pulled you even tighter into him, his cheek at a rest against your breasts. 

"Ah…Ahhh!!" A pornagraphic moan left your throat as he took you into your back one final time, ending the final thrusts just as he'd become. Slow and steady. The flex of his cock to release himself would prompt the beginning of overstimulation for you as he lowered between your breasts again. 

"Trevor…"

"Keep coming baby…" Two fingers back inside of you, pushing his cum in place for further lubrication, and a second release was already in the near distance. Your hands wrapped around his determined hand as he quickened with each thrust. 

"I fucking love hearing how wet you are…" 

"Ah!Mmmhmm! It's too much-"

"Shhh…" He bowed over you. "Just a bit more for me, baby…" Your eyes rolled as he kissed your lips, enough to feel you tremble and ultimately unbuckle for him again. This time, spurt after spurt as you soaked his arm and torso.

"Shit…"

"I told you it was too much…" You defended yourself. 

"Wrong…That's just enough…" His eyes darkened before he pulled you to the edge of the bed. 

"Trevor…I need a minute…"

"I know, baby…let's get you cleaned up…we both need it now…" You smiled and followed him the best you could with trembling thighs as he brought you into the shower before him. A tender exchange more sensual than erotic and you were cleaned off with the softest of intentions before you faced him in the mirror. 

"I love you, baby. I'm sorry I haven't been around…but I promise that I want to be…and I'll try to…" 

"And I promise to make it worth it…" You teased on the tips of your toes, ghosting over his lips. His cock swelling beneath the towel. 

"Oh, I'm not done with you tonight. But I still need a minute to recover from before. You always drain me, baby." 

You chuckled as he pulled you to the couch. 

"So what are we watching?" He cocked his jaw, pulling up a DVD from the rental place on his way home. The food from earlier reheated and set on your lap for consumption. 

"Some old movie…Hellraiser…ever heard of it?"

TAGLIST: @hopebaker @drewspisces @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4tangerine @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @camilynn @sweetestdesire @onmykneesforrafe @jjmaybanksangel @phildunphyisadilf @mashdan0916 

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[stil-lindigo]

hi! im taking an art appreciation course and have to make a presentation on an artist of my choosing, so i would like to choose you if that’s okay! your comics are super captivating and i would love to speak about them in class.

if it’s no problem, i would like to know what the creation process is like for you. if you want me to mention or talk about anything specific i would be more than happy to!

hope you’re having a wonderful weekend <3

hello anon! I'm sorry for getting to this ask so late - social interaction tires me. I'm really flattered and honoured that you thought of me for your course, but I'm afraid my process isn't too exciting. here's a general breakdown of my writing process for you.

Get in the shower/lay in bed. Have an idea come to you, whether it’s a killer line or a striking visual.

Write the concept down in my notes app.

Refine the concept.

It’s very cut and dry, but there’s honestly not much else I can say about it. I use Rhymezone a lot? I'm not afraid to say that, sometimes I need help nailing down a rhyme. And Step 3 covers a lot of ground - refinement means picking a visual metaphor, or going back and forth between endings or phrasing…it’s a lot of pushing and pulling until I’m somewhere that I’m satisfied.

For the comic itself, I've covered that process in a lot more detail in this ask.

i hope you have a wonderful couple weeks yourself anon :) and I wish you the best in your course, it sounds very nice.

[multiplicity-positivity]

hi uh i could use some advice :<

im a host of a recent system of 20-ish and guh i am t i r e d

im mainly looking for advice on how to switch or just retreat into the headspace/leave front or even just kinda stop being fully aware while still being in front for awhile bc id rlly like to take a break and the realization that im most likely front attracted/frontstuck is kinda making me more tired of being in front

also if it helps at all my(&) system is parogenic + traumagenic in origin (specifically parotraumagenic) and theres kinda iffy communication between members (some of them i have clear communication with and they randomly pop up to say stuff, some i have no idea where they are and some of them i can usually only hear when im directly interacting with them).

afaik (as far as i know) only three?? ppl have rlly "fronted" per se, and the rest have been co-con

i apologize for the long and mildly depressing ask but any help is appreciated also dont forget to hydrate

Hello! We have some posts that might help you that we’d like to share if that’s okay. The first is a post we wrote a while back with some tips on switching from our own experience:

We’d also like to share this post by @rin-and-jade on being frontstuck or frontlocked, and how to go about unsticking yourself!

Our own system host (Parker) is almost always fronting to some extent. It can certainly be exhausting and disheartening fronting nonstop, especially when other members of your system can seemingly come and go as they please. He’s going to put some info under a cut for how he copes with fronting constantly, in case you want some advice on coping with being genuinely unable to switch out!

We hope something here will be helpful for you! We’re wishing you the best of luck with switching out or at least learning how best to cope with fronting in your future!

(Host here - I’ll just write this bit if thats okay. Anyway here’s some stuff I do to deal with The Horrors of perpetual existence)

Meditation

Taking a few moments to sit in comfortable silence can be useful for me when I’m feeling stressed or overwhelmed or straight up exhausted. Here’s how I meditate (I’m no expert and I’m sure there’s better ways to do this… this is just what I do)

- get in a comfortable position in a quiet place where I’m not likely to be disturbed

- set a timer on my phone for 5 minutes

- close my eyes, focus on my breathing

- don’t dwell on any thoughts but also don’t push them away; acknowledge them and let them go

- try to stay still and calm until my timer goes off

And that’s it. Sometimes I get interrupted by an alter or something outside, but for the most part, this is how I’ve been able to meditate effectively.

Rest

I take naps whenever I can. I sit down whenever I can. I’ll literally just close my eyes for a few minutes whenever I can. Our body has issues with chronic fatigue, and fronting constantly can sometimes exacerbate our exhaustion. So yeah I am a huge fan of naps and will often set a timer for like 15-20 minutes and snooze whenever the opportunity arises. Even just lying down with closed eyes can help replenish some energy.

Distractions

Reading, watching something on TV, or playing video games can help give me somewhat of a break even if I’m still fronting. I do tend to try and keep us distracted as much as possible… sometimes to our own detriment. But if you find that you really aren’t ever able to switch out, or if your system is specutien and that’s just the way your system functions, finding things you enjoy that can serve as distractions may help you as well.

Saying No

This one’s tough, but I’m trying to learn to say no when I’m overwhelmed or have too much on my plate. This means sometimes I’ll cancel plans, hand off a responsibility, make a compromise, or turn down an opportunity if I don’t have the energy for it.

Honestly idk how much my addition can help you, but if you find that you’re not ever able to switch out at all please know there’s other folks out there in similar positions. Hoping you can make the most of your situation, anon /genuine

[molqr]

the ask game. can we get the soy

of courseeee you can its always spy pussy indulgence hour here. or however the meme goes. smiles face

this is loooowwwngg so im putting it under a cut for any poor fucker who may stumble upon it when they open the app lmfao. thanks for the ask mr musichead aka heavy tf2's husband. grins

how i feel about this character - gestures to bio and pfp and everything about me. god. im sick in the head about her. i originally didnt like spy all that much but, like a horrible mold, he grew on me when i realised that while he claims to be better than everybody else, he really isnt. maybe even a bit worse, and god, isnt that just the funniest, stupidest fucking thing ever. have you heard some of those voice lines, shes a fucking clown. anyway. i love spy tf2 but also dear god i hate him. if he was real i'd throw a brick at him and then kiss him. terrible choice really but i wouldnt have it any other way. thank you shithead frenchman with terrible horrible problems i like to study. as for a more comprehensive thing though: i really do just think spy is interesting. i think its weird and fascinating that hes so put together and so off-putting all at once. i love thinking about what happened between him and scout's mother. i like making him a pathetic absentee father. i like that he has identity issues. i like that i can make her a woman. that spy can be a bit of a wreck and extremely put together at the same time, that when a character wants to keep everything a secret, any information you have on them feels personal. i like it when spy is written the way thick fog feels. oh and did i mention i desire him most horribly. id assume thats obvious by now. spy is like a rubix cube to me. a boring little square who i regretfully want to shoot my shot at piecing together despite the fact i am not good at puzzles.

all the people i ship romantically with this character - ME MOTHERFUCKER!! kiddinggg. well. its true, but heres a better answer. tf2 is like the yaoi franchise to me, and spy is the most yaoiful of all simply because i specifically want to suck face with him, therefore, i make him suck face with many others. gay, i know. i fuck with most spy ships really, as long as theyre Good then i'll give them a shot. engiespy and sniperspy are classic general go-tos, but well written spoovy? yummmm my fucking dinnaaarrr. i also think that demospy and soldierspy can be fun if gotten right, and pyrospy just because i think it's really fucking funny. oh right and of course spyma. christ. they make me feel sickkk and one of them is barely even a proper character. sad. endlessly intruiged by their love nonetheless <3 still gotta write a fic for them sometime, i want to chew on em like a dog with a bone.

my non-romantic otp for this character - while i did literally just mention spoovy lmfao, i also just like it when heavy and spy are just close friends. they have many layers! im a sucker for the idea of spy knowing russian and that's how they start talking. i think they'd be teerrrribllleee gossips it'd be great. heavy never thought he'd be glad nobody else on the base can speak russian until he started gossiping with spy about the things hes seen on base. i know they talk sooo much shiiittttt. they probably have a bookclub too. // i also really like it when spy and pauling get to be friends, i feel like they entered some sort of understanding that while its paulings job to kill him if he keeps on snooping around, spy is going to snoop around anyway and just hope that when it happens, pauling kills him painlessly. but thats all theoreticals, right now they're talking about nothing- both kind of infuriating and relaxing for the both of them- while disposing of corpses. yknow, people who acknowledge that they might hate eachother in a slightly different world but right now they're friends because they realised overworked, tired, definitely too smart for this but still here anyway style bitches have to stick together. i think about the 'youve lied for her then?' 'oh! uh! not to you of course!' ' ,':I mhm...' interaction a lot. spy doesnt take it personally because she knows thats just paulings job, shes not surprised. she gets to be annoyed about it though, and will then do the same thing to pauling. i like their friendship. smilllessss.

my unpopular opinion about this character - i originally couldnt think of something to say in regards to spy but then it hit me like a flash of lightning. i think people make too much dark spyhead content. and i dont understand acting like the blu spy is better than the red one when theyre the same lady. back on the head though. like i cant lie i have a paticularly weakness for it at times but theres So Much Hard Angst. and it usually makes medic overly sadistic and horrible about it when i know thats not the case. 'but he kept him alive in the fridge!' says a theoretical hater. engineer was smiling when he blew of a guys arm in meet the engineer. soldier cuts off the blu teams heads and collects them. truly you can make near everything shit scary about these guys, but i just want to see more silly spyhead stuff if its going to be done so much. not to say i hate it perse i think its really fun, it just veers really heavily into overly sadistic torture stuff really fast?? my feeling on it is 'guy who watches cartoon violence and says what the fuck thats so fucked up what the hell hes dead you just hit him with a huge hammer' or something. its meant to be silly and i get wanting to have a dark spin on it, you cant forget its still silly at its core. i feel like ive complained about this before. anyway. lollipop chainsaw his ass! let him get back at medic but not in a paticularly sinister way! like, i dunno, dyeing all his birds an ugly shade of green or something. this seems more like me complaining about a trope of spy uhhh whats something more general about him as a character. errr. hes not as put together as it might seem? i think he'd be a bit more bloodthirsty about killing people when its not neccesary on missions and its just gross and weird? that people need to like, play into his grossness a bit more because hes wearing a full piece suit on a battlefield i know hes gross and sweaty. oh and that he wouldnt try to parent scout once he(scout) figures out theyre related because scout is 27 and doesnt give a fuck anymore. spy would sorta feel the need to from guilt but scout doesnt want that father-son relationship with spy because its too late and too weird. its just that spy is trying to project almost thirty years of feelings by imagining his son needs a father in his life as much as spy wanted his son in his life. but its too late. is that an unpopular opinion? idk. i just like making spy more torn up about the absentee father issue than scout is because i think its true. yeagh. out of all of them i feel like this is relatively tame in the 'unpopular opinions' levels. i have way more hot takes about the others. shruggssss

one thing i wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon - more making fun of him. stomping on his ego. being afraid of pyro for no reason. acting like a weird cat. acting like he hates hanging out with the others when its obvious hes having fun deep down. getting to be a weirdo. i need to see what the finale of the 'pretends to be tom jones while scout is dying' thing is. my prediction is that soldiers going to talk about killing tom jones in comic 7 and scout goes WHAT!! BUT HE WAS THERE WHEN I DIED!! and it all comes piecing together and spy has a Horrible day. if it was up to me i'd get to see more of spy and scout's ma on dates too or something because i think theyre really cute. i want more people to mention he smells bad because of the cigarette breath and to have him wheezing and coughing and spluttering after every 5 breaths. can medic have an organ transplant hall of shame with 3 pairs of spys shrivelled lungs? please.

anyway. im very normal about The Soy.

i had to do something like this or id die. xoxo

oh and the ask game itself x <- behold