#i’m pretty good at following directions yknow

[princessdreamss]

listen guys

[mannequinreligi0n]

Hiii!!

I loove your fics and lately I've been begging for some new Nero fics 🫡🫡

Could I request a fic with Nero and fem!reader where they're really good friends and yknow It's really cold outside and they both have to stay in an inn. Maybe one of the two offers their bed? And they both finally give in after a long while of hidding their feelings.

I really really crave some cute fluffy Nero smut, reader being her first🤭

Don't stress too much about this, and of course you can choose to write it or not!!

Thank you sweetie🫶🫶

ty for this !! i love a good ‘oh noooo, there’s only one bed’ trope.

tbh im not the biggest nero lover so this was a slight challenge but it ended up pretty good and a lot longer than expected lol. i also didn’t know how to end it but i hope you enjoy !!!!

Two Pals, One Bed

an unexpected storm puts you and nero in an unlikely situation

PAIRING: DMC5 Nero x afab reader

WARNINGS: (NSFW!: first-time/virgin!reader, fingering, penetration)

WORD COUNT: 2k

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

The sheets of rain pounded on the windshield of the van, making visibility hard on the patchy road. You flicked out the wrinkles in the map, squinting in the light of your phone to see the web of routes.

“Can’t see a damn foot in front of me like this.”, Nero grumbled from the driver’s seat. “No thanks to you, by the way.”

His pointed blame made you crinkle the map in your hands. You both had been driving for seemingly hours, trying to make it home from a job, but the storm was making it hard to navigate the backroads.

“There’s an inn after the next right, we’ll duck from the rain til morning.”

Nero sighed and shook his head. “We would’ve been home by now, if it wasn’t for your dumbass.” He peered over the steering wheel, on the lookout for the upcoming turn.

“Nuh uh,”, you started, a scowl on your face, “don’t pin this on me! I don’t control the weather.”

“Whatever.”

Nero makes the right and after a couple miles of silence, the faint beacon of lit windows pierces through the gloom. Pulling into the lot in front of the inn, Nero parks the car and hops out. You follow suit and hastily trail behind him, using your bag as cover from the harsh rain. Entering the inn, you walk slowly to examine the tacky decor - artificial fish and paintings of sunny beaches mocking your drenched clothes. Nero makes a beeline to the front desk and is quick to return with a set of keys in hand.

“We got lucky. Seems like everyone had the same idea, but they had one room left.” Nero pats you on the shoulder and cocks his head toward the direction of the stairs. “C’mon.”

You nod and follow Nero up the stairs to your appointed room, sighing in relief to be out of the storm. Nero drops his backpack on the desk and stares at the single queen-sized bed in the center of the room.

“……..one bed.”

“One bed.”, you repeat. It seems that the universe thought it would be funny if you two shared a bed after a night of endless bickering and side-eyes. You eventually shrug and flop down on the bed, looking up at Nero. “I mean, we’ve slept in worse conditions, right? You remember the cyclops cave?”

That earns a tiny smile from him, chiseling away at the tension from earlier.

“Thanks for reminding me. It’s not like I spend every waking moment trying to forget the smell of decay and ball sweat.”

You both laugh and you feel the frustration slowly leave your body. Nero digs around his bag for a change of clothes and heads to the bathroom to change. You take this as your cue to do the same, pulling out a clean shirt and pair of underwear and discarding your old ones in the corner of the room. You crawl into the bed, flicking on the tv and settling in. Nero returns a few minutes later, changed and seemingly back to his easy-going self. He switches off the lights and gets into the bed, leaving some space between you both. You both watch a rerun of an old sitcom before Nero breaks the silence.

“I’m sorry for being an asshole to you. You were only trying to help, and I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you.”

The apology doesn’t take you completely by surprise, considering that Nero is the most levelheaded person you know, but you appreciate it nonetheless. You pull the covers up over you, sinking down to lay on your pillow as you address him.

“Don’t worry about it, Nero. We’ve had a long day and have gotten thrown every which way - it’s no one’s fault. Besides, I’m happy it was with you and not with anyone else, it could’ve gone a lot worse.”

Nero nods in agreement but he’s not lost on the subtle flirting in your last sentence. Nero glances down at you resting form, your eyes trained on the tv mounted to the wall. For the past few weeks, it seems you two have been dancing around the obvious for the sake of staying focused on work. But considering that you both are literally in the same bed, it’s hard to ignore now. You look up to him, his face turning a pretty pink from being caught staring.

“Was there something else?”, you ask, noting his blush.

“You’re really pretty.”

Nero blurts out the compliment, heart starting to pick up from embarrassment. ‘Reaaaal smooth, Nero. Bet Dante would get a kick out of this’, he thinks to himself. Your own face turns red in response, a shy smile on your face.

“You really think so?”

“I know so.” Nero starts, sliding down to be beside you under the covers. “And smart, funny, brave.”

You stare at him with awe, in disbelief that those words left his mouth. Without another breath, you lean to the side where he’s laying and kiss him. It’s a gentle, tentative kiss, but full of meaning and longing. Nero’s brain short-circuits and it takes a second before he returns the kiss. Slow and cautious, your mouths explore this newfound feeling. Without breaking away, Nero rolls on top of you, hands running up your sides. Feelings of excitement and anxiety intermingle in your stomach and you break the kiss to look up at him, eyes wide. Nero returns the look with concern, his hand cupping your face.

“You okay? Did…did I do something wrong?”

“No, I-“, you cut yourself off, building up confidence before speaking again. “I need to tell you something.”

Nero raises his eyebrows, interest piqued. “You know you can tell me anything.”

You gulp and take a deep breath, making sure that this is really happening. You look down at the empty space between the two of you as you speak. “I’ve never gone this far with anyone.” You pause, frowning slightly. “I mean, I’ve messed around but I’ve never actually….slept with anyone before.”

Nero runs a hand over your hair and kisses your forehead sweetly. There’s a clear look of understanding on his face. “Y/N, you don’t have anything to be sorry about. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. And if you don’t wanna do anything now, I won’t hold that against you either.”

“I want to, I’m just nervous.” Your eyes have a vulnerability to them, like you’re already standing there naked in front of him.

“It’s okay to be nervous. Fuck, I’m nervous. But, it’ll be okay, as long as you enjoy it. And if you change your mind or need me to stop, that’s okay, too.”

With his reassurance, you nod and pull him back down to reinstate the kiss. Nero sighs into your mouth, happy to be connected again. You feel his hands snake down to your thighs, running over the exposed skin with light touches. As scared as you were, everything felt right in this moment. Your own shaky hands moved to tug at his shirt to help him out of it. Nero yanks the shirt over his head before reaching to pull down your underwear. He stops and looks up at you, waiting for the green light from you; you give him an eager nod and he proceeds. You feel his fingers brush against your sensitive bud and your breathing hitches in your chest. His fingers move slow, tracing circles into your flesh as his mouth trails sweet kisses to your ear.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

Nero’s soft voice and tender touches elicits a moan from you, almost forgetting to reply to him. You turn to look at him and mumble a ‘yes’ out, hips rocking against his hand. Nero hums in content, moving his fingers to your already wet slit. He toys with the hole for a moment, testing the waters in case you change your mind. By the way you’re sighing and whimpering, he takes it as his sign to go on, pushing in two fingers slowly. Your back arches, jaw dropping silently. Pumping slowly in and out, his strong, slender fingers tease your g-spot. Your hands fly to his shoulders, gripping onto him for support. Minutes go by as your climax builds up, your walls pulsing around his fingers. Before you can warn him of the oncoming wave, his fingers slip out, making you groan in disappointment. He laughs at your noise, slipping off the rest of his clothes.

“Easy, tiger. I got more to give, believe me.”, he chuckles. Leaning down to kiss you once more, he positions himself between your legs. “Ready, pretty girl?”

You nod and smile into his mouth. “Ready.”

Aligning with your slick, Nero pushes into you with a moan of satisfaction. You bury your head in his neck, stifling a cry from being stretched. Nero’s arm comes up to wrap around your head protectively, cradling you in comfort. Once fully in, he stays still to let you adjust to the new feeling. You feel your breathing slow down and you nod again, letting him know it’s okay to move. His cock slips almost completely out of you until he pushes it back in, repeating this until he creates a steady, sensual rhythm. Mewls from you are muffled by how close Nero’s holding you - his free hand hooking under one of your knees to lift you ever so slightly. Over and over, the head of his cock hits that sweet spot and you feel your orgasm start to build back up, ready to satisfy the delay from earlier. The moment feels surreal, considering how many times you’ve dreamt of this moment, and you flex your fingers every now and then to remind yourself it’s really happening.

You look out from your safe place in Nero’s neck and see him above you - eyes shut, mouth ajar, and a sheen layer of sweat making him glisten in the light of the tv still playing. The display from him is what sets you off, knowing that you’re the cause of it. Your core tightens and those familiar electric pulses make your body quiver with pleasure.

“O-oh, god, that feels so good…. I’m gonna…gonna…”

“Let it out, I’ve got you.”

The encouragement from Nero is all you need to let go, a wave of pleasure taking over all of your senses. Your legs shake around Nero and a sound you’ve never heard from yourself before fills the room. Fuelled by your reactions, Nero chases after his own high, fucking into you passionately. Sweat dripping down his face, he looks down at you with an adoring smile before his eyes squeeze shut, followed by a series of whimpers and curses. Your walls milk him free of every drop of seed, the feeling overwhelming for him. You stare up at him in awe, your vision going in and out from your own orgasm.

His thrusts slow to a stop, allowing him to collapse on you. Both of you lay there panting, the heat of your bodies almost overbearing. You run your hand up and down Nero’s back, soothing him through the end of his orgasm. Eventually, Nero lifts his head and gives you a weak kiss, bumping his nose to yours.

“You did great, y/n. Seriously, that was….”

“Amazing.”, you finish for him, a giggle following it.

“Yeah, that.”

Nero pushes himself up and out of you, rolling onto his back beside you. He reaches over and pulls you into his arms, stationing you to lay on his chest. You can hear his heart thumping strongly, beating a lullaby to you.

“Get some rest, beautiful. You’ve earned it after that.”

You start to protest sleep but a yawn betrays you, realizing how warm and safe you feel in Nero’s arms. As minutes pass, your eyes grow heavier and soon close for the night, your breathing deep and slow. Nero’s hands tangle in the strands of your hair, twirling them mindlessly until sleep triumphs over him as well.

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

Not A Coincidence

Bradley Bradshaw x Penny’s niece!reader 3k words

summary: It’s not a coincidence that you turn up at the Hard Deck for a beach day. It’s not a coincidence either that you end up inside the bar all alone with Rooster. And after what happened on Tuesday, well...  

fair warning: allusions to smut. no smut in itself. 

a/n: this is my first bradley oneshot and i am so fucking scared imma fuck up but yknow. we’re vibing. also the jake slander in this is all fun and games. i love him. 

main piece to “Tuesday Night”, “ Rooster At 5, Bradley At Night" and “Take Me On A Joyride”, can be read seperately tho

top gun masterlist

You were early. Too early. Much too early, considering it was currently 10am and your shift began at 5pm. But here you were, sunglasses high on your nose, bikini on under a loose shirt, straw hat on your head, towel and sunscreen in your bag on the passenger seat. 

It wasn’t a concidence that you’d decided on coming early for a beach day. It was far from that, actually. And you hoped, prayed, begged that Penny wouldn’t let it slip, that she wouldn’t rat you out. Because if she did that, you were not sure you’d be able to handle the teasing that would follow. Of course she wouldn’t want anything bad for you - just a little push in the right direction, she’d call it, and smile that smile of hers that had you and Amelia giving each other the side-eye every time.

But you’d have to take that risk. 

Because you sure as hell weren’t missing out on this shit. 

And it was all Penny’s fault in the end anyway. Penny’s fault because she was here on a Thursday morning, Penny’s fault because she was sitting outside, Penny’s fault because she just had to send you a picture, didn’t she? God damn her. God damn her for being your aunt. God damn her for not sending you that picture earlier. 

You grabbed your keys a little too tightly as you turned off the ignition and pushed the door open and close again with a bit too much force. One deep breath. Then another. You needed to calm down. 

You didn’t bother with the front door - if you could save the time it’d take to find the keys in your bag, you absolutely would - instead walked around to the tables at the back. This side of the Hard Deck was hardly ten metres away from the beach, so the second you rounded the corner, you stood, frozen in spot, and watched the picture Penny had sent half an hour ago become reality. 

And reality was much better than the crappy photo in any and all ways imaginable. 

The squad was all shirtless, all greased up, running after two balls, tackling each other, sand sticking to every inch of exposed skin, sunglasses on and drenched in golden light. It was like a scene straight out of some summer rom-com - actually, no, it was pretty much like a scene coming straight out of some soft porn. Unfurling right in front of you. 

Oh, you were in trouble. 

Especially the moment anyone spotted you. And they would. They fucking would if you didn’t move it right about now. 

As quietly as you could - and as invisible as possible, which was harder - you walked up to Penny, keeping your eyes firmly planted on the aviators rolling around in the sand. You were pretty fucking sure nothing would ever top this moment right now. Thirteen of what had to be the most attractive people on the planet tan, sweaty and half-naked? Yeah, there was no way in hell it would ever be any better than this right here.

You only glanced away for a second to sit down next to Penny, to take a look at the blank Sudoku in front of her. You snorted. 

“Looks like I’m not the only one who dropped everything to get here”, you said, eyebrows raised, put your bag down next to you and looked back at the beach where Phoenix was just throwing her arms into the air to celebrate something you guessed was a good thing for her team. Hangman looked livid. 

“What can I say?”, she chuckled. “Even an old woman can enjoy some eye-candy sometimes.” 

“You’re saying ‘old’ like you actually are.” 

“Well-” 

She was going to argue, like she always did (you’d had this conversation a ton of times already), but before she could, Maverick came jogging up from the beach to a little chair he must’ve brought for himself. He waved in your general direction. You knew better than to think it was actually meant for the both of you - you were aware enough of the history of his ‘relationship’ with Penny to not be that arrogant. It always went the same: the two of them stumbling across each other every few years, with the exception of the half decade when she’d been married, they hooked up, they had a great time for some weeks, maybe even some months, then Maverick got himself into some kind of trouble and had to move across the country, leaving behind Penny and her broken heart. 

As he sat down to keep watching the game, you realised that you’d been spotted. Someone had noticed Mav’s wave, had seen not only Penny, but you too, and well, you were fucked now. You were fucked because it was Rooster who’d spotted you. Rooster who had a shit-eating grin on his face as he peeled his sunglasses off and made eye contact with you. Rooster who you knew was smart enough to connect the dots, to figure out that you being here wasn’t some coincidence. Rooster who probably realised you were checking his team out - checking him out - even all the way down the beach and through your sunglasses. 

But who could blame you? 

Hell, he looked gorgeous in his dumb Hawaiian shirts and jeans already, you weren’t particularly shocked that he looked even better without them. 

He waved at you. Waved at you to come over. To come join them. 

Within a few seconds, the rest of the aviators were catching onto his idea, were looking at you sitting there watching them, were following his example and waving at you to come down. You bit the inside of your cheek. 

You’d thought that if you were sneaky, careful enough, that you’d be able to just sit here and stare at them, watch them play, admire them for a while. Maybe pretend to read a book if they were to spot you after all. But, no, of course not. Of course Rooster had to demolish your little plan, crumble it up into nothing. Curse him. 

You sighed, but you knew the squad well enough by now to understand that you had lost. You had no choice but to do what they wanted you to do - they’d find a way to force you anyway if you didn’t do it willingly. 

Penny’s laughter in your ears, you got up and made your way down to the beach, arriving to a chorus of cheers that had you grinning and bowing. You could very well just play this off as some funny coincidence as long as Rooster kept his mouth shut. But with the way he was grinning at you, you were doubting he would for long. 

“I gotta admit I feel a little insulted that I wasn’t invited to your private beach-party”, you said, letting your eyes rake over Rooster with no concern whatsoever for being caught. You had sunglasses on. Nobody could prove you were doing a damn thing. And he was just too attractive for his own good, too attractive to ignore, too attractive not to look.  

“In our defense”, Phoenix said, still a little breathless from the game, and held both her hands up. “We didn’t know we were even having a beach-party.” 

“You didn’t even know?”, you asked. 

“Mav took us by surprise. Only told us this morning.” 

You snorted, interrupted before you could reply by a ball landing at your feet. 

“You playing, Junior?”, Jake shouted, making sure to flex his arms just short of ridiculously. If he weren’t Jake and you weren’t you, you’d probably be super into him, more turned on and less annoyed, but this way you just rolled your eyes and flipped him off. 

“First of all, Texas boy”, you yelled. “Quit calling me that or I’ll cut your fucking dick off. With some elementary school scissors as well because that’s all I’d need. And also, you know I hate sports, the mere fact that you’re suggesting I move any more than necessary is laughable.” 

You heard Phoenix and Rooster snicker as Jake laughed and threw you a sloppy salute. 

“Whatever ya say, Junior.” 

Junior. How you despised that goddamn nickname. Mainly because it didn’t make sense anyway - you weren’t even Penny’s daughter, you were her niece. They’d make more sense calling Amelia Junior. But no, it had caught on, and now you were just short of slapping people every time you heard it.

You turned back to Rooster, swallowing hard as you forced yourself to keep your eyes on his face this time. 

“I’ll get you guys some drinks”, you said, smile tugging at your lips. “If, that is, you’re allowed to drink.” 

“A drink won’t kill us”, Phoenix winked, and then hauled the ball from where it still lay at your feet and charged at Jake. 

You chuckled. There was a heavy silence hanging over you and Rooster even after half a second, your sunglasses protecting you from too much eye contact and him holding it effortlessly anyways.

“You look good”, he muttered, his voice low enough that you knew none of the others heard it. A shiver ran down your spine. Your throat went dry. God, why had you got yourself into this? You should’ve saved the pic, thanked Penny and stayed home. None of this complicated shit. But well, seemed as though you liked it complicated. 

“Do I?”, you asked quietly, barely suppressing a grin. He made an acknowledging sound that almost had you throwing caution into the fucking wind and pulling him in for a kiss just like that. 

“I think I could use a helping hand”, you said instead, voice sounding more breathless than it probably should. “You know, with the drinks.” 

His lip quirked up at that, the indication of a smile that you were much too familiar with already. You swallowed. This man should not have this effect on you. But he did, and well, who were you to argue with god’s gifts? 

“I’ve always got a free hand for you, sweetheart”, he chuckled, his fingertips dancing across your upper arm. You sucked in a breath. 

He’d flirted with you before, yes. But ever since Tuesday, he’d taken it up a notch. You’d have expected something like this from Hangman, surely, but not from Rooster. Sweet Rooster. 

Not so sweet after all. 

“You’re unbelievable”, you muttered, shaking your head and looking down (a mistake, in hindsight, because that meant you were staring right down at his abs) to escape his eyes on yours.

“What, you don’t like these hands?”, he asked with a grin, his finger snaking just below the hem of your sleeve before he pulled back, holding his hands up in front of you and turning them around - palm facing you, back facing you, palm facing you. You could’ve slapped him. 

The thing was that he had really fucking nice hands. And you didn’t usually notice that. But his were big, his fingers long, so goddamn perfect on your waist, your jaw - useful too, you could imagine. 

“I like those hands carrying the drinks out”, you quipped. “Think the guys can make do without you for a few minutes?” 

He didn’t even take a look at the squad before raising his eyebrows. 

“Sure they can.”

You couldn’t help the grin on your lips as you turned and walked up to the Hard Deck, passing by Penny (with that annoying smile that told you She knew, she knew, she knew), only leaning down to tell her you were getting the squad some drinks before you were pushing open the door, stepping behind the bar and getting out a tray. You set it down on the wooden bar top, put a bunch of shot glasses onto it and got out a bottle of vodka, only looking up when you heard Rooster laugh.

“And here I thought I was getting my hands dirty after all.” 

You snorted, resting your palms against the edge of the bar and leaning closer over to him. It was dark, light barely flooding in through the windows with the shades down, especially with your sunglasses on, and you really should have taken them off, but the sweet advantage of Rooster not knowing where you were looking was a bit too sweet to give up just yet. 

He looked good even in this dim light. One arm on the bar top, his face turned to you, his sunglasses still up high in his hair. Usually he’d hook them into his shirt, but - well, he wasn’t wearing one. A layer of sweat was covering his entire torso, droplets dripping down his neck. 

“You” - you pointed a finger at him - “are a cruel, cruel man.” 

He leaned just a bit closer, grin playing on his lips, and your breath caught in your throat as he raised a hand, prying your own sunglasses off of your face. Carefully, slowly, paying close attention to not hurting you. 

“Now is that good or bad?” 

He folded the glasses, put them down next to the tray and caught your gaze. For the first time today, you were actually looking at him. Your teeth dug into your bottom lip all on their own. If he knew about even half of the power he had over you, you were fucked. 

“Well for me”, you grinned, not daring to do anything but stare right back at him. “For me, that could be very good. Depending on what you define as good, Bradshaw.” 

“Would be beneficial if our definitions matched.” 

You let out a laugh and shook your head, finally breaking eye contact to turn around and get out another tray, another few glasses (bigger ones, this time) and a bottle of water. Drinks were well and all but the squad needed actual fluids in their systems that weren’t alcohol and as far as you knew them, they had not brought enough to even last them much more than a few hours.

“You’re a menace, Bradshaw, is what you are. And now help me get these drinks out.” 

You grabbed one tray, grabbed the bottle of vodka and maneuvered everything out from behind the bar, towards the door. Your pulse was a bit too quick, your breathing a bit too shallow, but you were fine considering what had just gone down. Considering you’d been in here alone with Bradley goddamn Bradshaw, the literal finest man on the whole planet, and had managed not to throw yourself at him. Even after what had happened Tuesday. Even after knowing just how heavenly he felt close to you. Even with how horribly obviously he’d been flirting today. 

You had hardly taken two steps away from the bar top when you were tugged back - an arm around your waist, the tray wobbling dangerously. You put the bottle of vodka down on the bar, hard, much too forcefully, to keep everything from clattering to the ground. You were good at your job, yes, but not even you could keep a tray of close to fifteen shot glasses safely on your arm when someone was purposefully tripping you up.

“Shit, you can’t just do that!”, you cursed, carefully steadying the tray and putting it down as well before you looked up at Rooster. He’d let go of you, but he didn’t seem guilty or regretful in the slightest, that grin still on his lips. 

“You really want to leave me here without making use of these hands?”, he muttered, so close to you now that you had to tilt your head back to look at him. You wanted to be mad at him. You so, so badly wanted to be. But he was making it way too hard. 

“With what those hands did already”, you hissed, poking a finger into his chest. “I don’t know if I want to find out whether the rest of what they can do is just as destructive.” 

He laughed, his hands back on your waist again suddenly, fingers splayed across your skin (the shirt was really, really thin after all and you felt like you were on fire wherever he touched you), pulling you flush against his front. Your palms came up to his chest to steady yourself and you sucked in a breath - sweaty skin beneath your fingertips, well-defined abs against your stomach. Most definitely god’s gift. Shit. 

“Changed your mind that quickly?”, he hummed, thumb tracing the hem of your bikini bottoms over your shirt. “Think I can recall you being very eager to find out two days ago.” 

“You kept track?”, you asked breathlessly, the question sarcastic but your tone - sadly - outing just how affected you were by all this. By his closeness, his touch, his words. Oh, you were down bad. He chuckled. 

“For such a pretty girl like you? Always.” 

He held you just a little tighter, pulled you just a little closer. You hadn’t thought it was possible. 

“Bradley”, you whispered, and something in his expression changed like a switch had been flicked in his mind. His fingertips dug into your hips. 

“Say that again.” 

You didn’t think your mind had ever been this absolutely blank as you looked at him, rolled his words around in your head, your lips parted and your eyes wide. 

“Bradley”, you repeated - had you ever said his name before? On Tuesday you’d kissed him, sure, but you’d both been tipsy and it had been 1am and you were pretty sure you’d called him ‘Roos’, even with his hands pinning you to his Bronco and your arms crossed behind his neck. “Kiss me again.” 

[run-on-lightning]

Polykessoku Headcanons

look man, this is just me dumping my favorite tropes on Kessoku Band because i don’t have the strength or energy to write a proper fic right now. your mileage may vary and read with care.

a few headcanons for s1 era:

Kita-chan was already aware of Bocchi since the start of the school year, way before she found out Bocchi plays guitar, her curiosity slowly burning until Bocchi’s attempt to talk to her broke the ice.

Nijika and Ryo have an on-and-off-romantic-chicken thing going on in the background for years, where they’ll flirt (or react as if being flirted with) but the first one who gives in and kisses the other loses.

the following stuff is way down the line, where Kessoku Band is more established and our girls have known each other for much much longer:

Nijika is the first one who realizes she has feelings for multiple people, when she realizes she likes Bocchi and Kita-chan, on top of whatever she has going with Ryo. She’s also the first one who brings up her feelings for their bandmates with Ryo, and Ryo’s pretty chill cuz the two of them were never official nor exclusive and Nijika’s well aware of the random flings and what-not Ryo finds herself in. (also, imagine these two going on research binges when they first started exploring the idea of polyamory. Nijika is a smart hardworker and Ryo hyperfocuses.)

Kita-chan has never heard of polyamory and at one point she was heavily agonizing over her feelings for both Bocchi and Ryo. Once she musters up the courage to talk about it with a separate party, she brings it up with Nijika, who is like “You don’t have to choose between them.” and introduces Kita-chan to a whole new world.

At some point, the three of them (Nijika, Ryo, Kita-chan) come to an agreement that they will not do anything that would make things official with anyone until they’re all sure how Bocchi feels (and they all hope Bocchi is also open to the idea of all of them dating each other). Romantic Chicken has expanded to Kita-chan lol. She’s torn between regret and elation because Ryo and Nijika are especially merciless when they tag team flirting with Kita-chan, but teaming with either of them to flirt with the other is a thrill and joy like no other.

Like Kita-chan, Bocchi has also never heard of polyamory and is actually deeply in denial of her feelings for any of them, dismissing her bandmates’s flirting and skinship as just something close friends do... or worse, as something bands do for fanservice (”band gals being pals”).

The denial dam breaks when at one of their major liveshows, Kita-chan pulls off an amazing improv solo to buy time for Bocchi to fix some technical issue before her guitar solo part. It was just like in their very first Cultural Festival performance, but on a grander scale. The guitar solo turned into something like a duet, with the two of them improvising riffs and fills between them. Bocchi is so overwhelmed with so many different feelings and they’re all directed at Kita-chan, so in a spur of the moment, she actually leans in and kisses Kita-chan as they ended the solo.

Of course, poor Kita-chan wasn’t expecting a kiss, so she froze for a few seconds and missed her cue to sing the next stanza. Good thing Ryo is fast on the uptake and sings a few lines as lead until Kita-chan could sing again and Ryo could go back to singing backup vocals.

(To Be Continued another time...)

ok i’m tired and i need to sleep, but please enjoy a few random headcanons regarding dates before i go:

Bocchi feels comfortable in silence with Ryo and would be very down to hang out one-on-one more, if she weren’t worried about getting scammed of her money because, well, Ryo being Ryo. Once she learns to manage her money better (and earns more of Bocchi’s trust), Ryo takes Bocchi some of the stores she normally visits alone, where they’ll browse and listen to the stuff they like and only occasionally chat (cuz, yknow, Team Introvert)

Nijika and Kita-chan’s dates are very normal (meet at station, brunch at a cafe, watch a movie, window shopping afterwards), and they like it that way. They have other partners for crazier stuff.

Kita-chan and Bocchi’s early dates are also very normal... or they try to be, but there’s always Something that neither of them expects and one of them has to bring the other back from the brink of whatever Bocchi Time-esque episode they find themselves in.

Nijika and Ryo’s dates can go anywhere from super normal and low key to wild and random. They bicker and joke around a lot but there’s always, always at least one moment where they both fall silent while standing/sitting next to each other, hand in hand, fingers interlocked tightly with each other. Then they would look at each other, feeling how much they mean to each other’s lives while their eyes are locked... until one of them can’t take it any longer and looks away or waves it off with a laugh because they’re both blushing so hard. They usually end the day sleeping over in one of their houses.

[blkkizzat]

Helppp I feel so dumb for not knowing that was already on your kicktober list from last year 😭🙏 not me being proud of myself for thinking I came up with a good, original idea 🥲

ANYWAYS... I know you still have a bunch of works to get to from last year but I honestly have a lot more ideas I think that are original or not that popular.

I don't really expect you to use these tho just because I'm pretty sure you have a bunch of ideas aswel!!!

Ok moving on. 🤩

Stalker!Toji

it would have drugging (not really a kink 🤷‍♀️),EXTRA dirty talk, and public sex 😍

He’s been watching you for a while now ever since you caught his eye while bartending at a local club, after following you home every night,needing to know more about you, one night he comes to the club, offering you a “friendly” drink on him, but who knows what he does with it once you turn your back 😈

that’s basically the “plot”, you can change it however u want 😭 I tried to keep it short so you could think of some ideas for it yourself 🫠

(I have 0 idea how to write) but i definitely think it would be noncon/dubcon but reader would enjoy/consent in the end, like you said in your general warnings on kinktober 23

Succubus!Sukuna

Okk I’m pretty sure this was already done before but I have my own twists 🤭

Virginity Loss (reader), Monsterfucking, Dumbification

Your friends were all talking about how they already lost their virginity and it made you feel left out that you couldn’t relate, so you do some research on the internet on how to easily lose your virginity and find out about Succubus’s, you do some deep digging and find out how to actually summon one! Obviously thinking it’s not gonna work, you follow the directions.

I didn’t know how to end it off so it’s a bit trashy… I actually really like this idea 😫

ClutLeader!Geto

I know he’s a cult leader in general but in a lot of peoples AUs he isn’t, plus i imagine this one a little darker, anyways it would have sex toys, bondage, edging.

You join a cult bc some reason you wanted to, you were a total newbie when you first joined in, you didn’t know where anything was or any of the rules, so you end up roaming the halls in the middle of the night, trying to create a map in your head, until clutleader!Geto finds you mindlessly wandering around and decided to take likening to you.

I could have totally continued going but…yknow 🤷‍♀️ you don’t have to use these at all there just plus you already used all these characters from last year, I just thought it would be fun sharing it, you can totally switch up the kinks to your liking if you do decide to use one of these, I just picked out ones that went well with the idea.

-🪼

Nooo 🪼 pookiess dont feel bad! That just means its an extra good idea if we both thought it up!

Stalker!Toji - so my YOU fic The Nursery is pretty much stalker Toji. But I can do more of a one shot kidnapping scenario as—omg wait you just gave me such a good idea and it has nothing to do with this but its still for toji dfjhadskhsdfkj. I can't spill the tea now until i work it out more but *kisses u*

Succubus!Sukuna - hehe is this genderbent sukuna? Succubus is the female demon that goes after males and Incubus is the male demon that goes after females. I can do something similar though like with a ouija board or something. its been done before so i would have to think of something unique for him. (also i might end up doing incubus!geto)

CultLeader!Geto - you know ive never done anything for him as a cult leader. Theres been so many delicious fics too, but I will think of something. Definitely could explore something here. Although I do write my readers kinda sassy so let me think on how this would go down. This also could just be bimbo reader. fhsdksjhdjkfshdbv.

But tysm for the ideas!! I do appreciate them. Even if I don't use them it can be nice just to get the prompts as that helps me with other fics too! 💓 🫶🏽

[wander-wren]

i finally watched the first seven episodes of trigun stampede today and i have to say 👀👀👀 i have thoughts. i will attempt to be vague and not spoil things

first of all this is a puppy of a man and he is my new best friend

second of all, y’all weren’t kidding bout the christ allegory and all that. wow. it’s kinda goofy but like, also believable? in context?

i already knew going in that vashwood was a thing and i was waiting to see how gay, exactly, they were gonna be. and then one of the first things vash says to him is about how he has Good Person Eyes with his silly little smile and i’m like Oh okay. gay.

also it’s just, like, really sad. darker than i expected from what little i saw beforehand/the opening. (well. not the first four minutes. after that.) (maybe i should’ve taken the first four minutes as a hint.)

and more violent than i expected, ig i’m still new to anime and not used to my Silly Cartoons being full of The Violence. but also i get squicked by hand gore and arms are close enough to hands that some of the ep2/3 bits were. hm! hm. it’s cool tho. ig i should’ve expected something like that when there’s a bad guy named knives.

I HAVE A DUMB NITPICK ABOUT THE WORLDBUILDING THO. i do like the worldbuilding i think it’s really cool i love a good desert space planet. i like the sand worms. always gotta have sand worms. and the plants. it’s neat. but uh.

my question is why is the whole thing a desert and then there is ALSO the great sand ocean?? you can see the outline of the continent and everything?? but?? when we go to the great sand ocean it is literally just, yknow, more sand, and cars drive on it at the same speed as the ship, so like, what is the point. i thought maybe it’s like a big shelf, big drop off, like cliffs, but no? bc there is a genuine concern at one point about sailing into a town?? i’m so. i’m so confused. why is there an ocean. am i missing something??

ANYWAY my other nitpick is that meryl and roberto are very necessary to the story in the sense that they need to be there as outsiders to vash/knives/wolfwood/etc, as stand-ins for the audience, but like. they don’t DO anything so far. aside from occasionally doing one small useful task, they mostly just follow/drive vash around. i felt guilty about internalized misogyny for not liking meryl as much as vash/wolfwood, but cmon, one of them is a Smart Reporter who is interested in vash and has no sense of self preservation. two of them are very traumatized potentially not-quite-human gunslingers. and i like meryl! and roberto! i love a good grumpy mentor and his plucky newbie partner trope. they just don’t do much and dont give me a lot to latch onto.

yeah, that’s about it for right now. most of my thoughts are just that i love, love, love vash. so much. he’s so silly and strange and he’s a pacifist but he’s also veryy competent with a gun/in a fight. and he is sad. and he is a puppy. i want to give him a hug.

i saw that little thing about him refusing to eat after [redacted events] and how he “doesn’t deserve to cry” and meryl going “look at you!!” and clapping when he finally does, + him looking at wolfwood and repeating wolfwood’s comment about deserving to eat. oh my boy. oh i’m latching onto that so hard

same with wolfwood tbh tho i’m not as attached bc he came later and i’m still a little suspicious of some things. he’s also a weirdo but in a very different way. wow it’s almost like he and vash have really similar backstories but adapted in opposite directions.

(what if i was your narrative foil….and we were both boys…….)

oh! final thing is that i love the art style. the planets look so cool and the creature/machine designs are very neat and it’s just. pretty. yes.

hopefully i’ll have time to finish season 1 on tuesday? it doesn’t feel quite like a hyperfixation to me yet (which is good i don’t need to deal with that rn lol), but i’m definitely interested and want to take a wander through the fandom.

[white-weasel]

Saw Saturday has come yet again, this time we watched Saw VI:

First off, this movie was so aggressively 2008-2009 in its theme I was FLOORED. Of course there were the predatory lenders, loaning out money to those they knew couldn’t pay it back (direct reference to the housing crash in 2007/2008) and then I got hit with the words “preexisting condition” and literally went “oh fuck the affordable care act doesn’t exist yet.” So definitely was interesting to get a blast from the past with social commentary that was very much based on popular public discourse at the time (not saying predatory lending and American health insurance aren’t also issues now just… a different kind of issue/focus)

I cannot believe that Strahm’s hand survived that entire crushing room so in tact. Then again I did not watch Strahm’s actual death at all because I’m too much of a baby about broken bones, but just seeing the rest of the corpse… man Hoffman got pretty lucky with that one

Perez didn’t die in 4/5 I fucking called it!!! Like I said, if I don’t see your body idc, you’re alive in my book

Still, I’m surprised that they revealed that bit of information to Hoffman. I guess at that point they were running off the assumption Strahm was Jigsaw’s accomplice and thus Hoffman would be a trusted ally in the investigation but man

Speaking of, Hoffman was sooooo sus this entire movie it was almost comical. I mean, it’s probably just because you as an audience member know Hoffman’s whole deal but still

Another Saw trap gauntlet! I think it’s interesting that as the movies moved more towards focusing on John Kramer and his crew as the main characters, rather than those in the trap, the traps have turned into multiple tests rather than just one. It makes sense from a story telling perspective though because that way they don’t have to explain multiple people’s deals why they’re in these traps and can instead just focus on one

With that, I think this was my favorite of the trap gauntlets yet! Actual tough decisions for William and I feel like it mixed the moral choices being put forward by 3 about saving people, while also making the decisions tougher/have more consequences like 5. I really liked the maze where in order to let her pass through he had to redirect the steam and burn himself and the shotgun carousel trap where he had to impale his hands in order to save just a fraction of those on it.

I was staring at the teen boy with his mom who have been put in that cage room with the acid and was like “He looks familiar but idk where I’ve seen him before” a few scenes later my friend just blurts out “oh my god that’s Rodrick from Diary of a Wimpy Kid” and we literally had to pause to take in that information

Once again though, not sure how I feel about more John Kramer lore being added, but this at least didn’t stand out to me as being Too Much yknow. It makes sense that there was a slimy insurance guy who screwed over thousands of sick people and also did it to John, who was a close friend. Didn’t break anything pre established too much

Idk if this was intentional but the whole thing about the knives used to cut the jigsaw pieces out being different for Hoffman vs John felt like it was kinda a reference back to John telling Hoffman that the blade on his pendulum was inferior. If Hoffman had just followed John’s lead and used a surgical precision knife, the right tool for the job, to cut up that latest victim, the discrepancy wouldn’t have been raised and they probably wouldn’t have even thought about re-examining the Seth Baxter tape

The scene in the audio technician lab? So good. Once again Hoffman is being so so sus but also he’s cornered. I do have to question the logic of letting Hoffman hear the actual incriminating evidence when it’s pretty obvious they suspected him at this point, but it led to an iconic moment so I will take it

Rip Perez for real this time :( genuinely did like her from what we saw from her and I desperately wanted her to own Hoffman’s ass

Did NOT expect Hoffman to have basically blackmailed Amanda into killing Lynn (and thereby killing herself) back in 3, but now that I think about it it makes sooo much sense. It never 100% clicked with me why Amanda did that with how I read her character, but knowing that she was making the choice between her father figure/mentor/person who’s approval she wanted most in the world hating her or killing Lynn, things have fallen into place better

Jill was MUCH more involved with the Jigsaw operation than I had previously thought. It was basically like a fucking murder family up in there lmaoooo

Hoffman in the reverse bear trap was unexpected!! And the fact he beat what was supposed to be an unbeatable trap for him??? Actually a little bit insane. (He and Strahm both surviving “unwinnable” traps? They’re perfect for each other) I cannot wait to see what Jill’s reaction is gonna be when he eventually shows up and is like “I lived, bitch”

We’re reaching the point where my friend doesn’t remember what happens in the series (she watched some of the movies year ago) She said she very clearly remembered 1-3, would remember things as they came up in 4, and now only remembers stuff from Jigsaw since she saw that one in theaters. However, she loves hearing me ramble about my theories and then likes to look things up about the movies so she can know ahead of time if I’m right or not lmao

In her words “See, I knew you would like these movies, not because of like the traps or the gore or anything, but because of the crazy shit that happens in the plot. It’s fun seeing you go crazy about the twists and then spiral until we watch the next one.” And she’s absolutely 100% right

[leorawright]

Hello helloo :) I’d like to request a TF2 matchup!

I’m 5’8, AFAB, middle eastern, and bisexual. I have a curvy bod, with a bit of chub here and there. I currently have a black layered wolfcut with bangs, but I’m planning to get my hair cut to a shaggy bob soon. I like to dress like I’m the protagonist of an early 2000s horror video game ( look that up on Pinterest to see what I mean lol ). I wear makeup pretty much everyday, just my regular base and black eyeliner + mascara, sometimes I’ll wear faux lashes. I also often wear rectangular reading glasses, I’ve been told I look like bayonetta with them on (biggest compliments I’ve ever received tbh). That’s pretty much it regarding my looks.

My personality,, I’m a pretty dominant person with my mannerisms, I like to take the lead in group settings, but it honestly depends on its subject, sometimes I’d like to just follow directions instead. I’d like to think of myself as compassionate and courteous, I always do my best to treat others how I’d like to be treated. But I’ll admit, I do struggle with BPD and one of my symptoms is having a short temper, though throughout middle and high school I’ve learned how to manage it, publicly, atleast. I always do my best to avoid confrontations. Another symptom of my BPD, I’m consistently inconsistent, with pretty much everything, my looks, personality, aesthetics..

My likes! I really love animals! Including bugs and insects, but I choose to just admire most from afar, if any get into my home, I’ll try my best to just get them out safely. My favorite animals are owls, seals, snow leapords, and pigeons/doves ( I’m actually getting one soon! ) , though these fluctuate a lot, so these are just my current favorites for now. I think my ideal life would be living in a small town, connected with the wilderness, atleast a little more than I am now, and just out of america lol, possibly somewhere in Europe.. I don’t really have an aesthetic I’ve stuck with, its constantly changing, I can’t really even explain it now,, you’d kinda just have to look at my Pinterest board to understand ig? But a bit of it is just vintage medical equipment and art dolls. I also really love music! All types! I literally listen to anything and everything, except for maybe opera lol. My current top artists (according to stats for Spotify) are the smiths, boa, the cure, machine girl, Miranda lambert, sir mix a lot, and lemon demon. So you could definitely say there’s a range lolz

Relationships hm.. romantically I’m more into women, but I’m slightly more sexually attracted to men. I don’t see the appeal in dating “just for fun” , that’s definitely not for me. I have basically 0 experience in relationships, my last relationship was in middle school that lasted for barely 2 weeks. Honestly sometimes I used to think I was aromantic, but I think cupioromantic may be a better term, but idk, I’m still figuring myself out. My ideal partner would be someone who’s in touch with their emotions, an empath, just overall a nice person, yknow? My love languages are gift giving, and quality time.

I could go on, but I’m gonna end it here because I’ve probably written too much,, so sorry about that😭

Hmm for Tf2 I'd have to pick...

Engineer!

(I know I don't write for him but he was the only one I could think of)

He's very in touch with his emotions and a pretty calm person in general.

He enjoys making you small gifts just because he can

He'd also be very happy if you just hung out with him in his workshop

Very intrigued with your music and probably starts to enjoy the same artists as you

And he's very good at understanding how you're feeling and adapting to your different daily aesthetics

[daenerysstormreborn]

Thank you for your explanations! Do you have a source on George intending for Sansa to die? I couldn’t find anything on that.

When I talk about Arya openly rejecting expectations, I mean more that despite urging from her mother, she keeps her hair messy, she doesn’t care for dresses, and she actively pursues swordplay. In today’s times, none of those things are big acts of nonconformity, but in Westeros, swordplay especially is EXTREMELY gendered. I’m not saying anything about the long-term expectations of having kids, etc. Arya canonically loves children and is good at managing a household, after all. But I’d be curious to hear what the support is for the idea that Arya only doesn’t like “feminine” activities because of trauma. I don’t think the text contradicts this, but I’ve taken so long to read the books that I don’t quite remember. However, GRRM has called Arya a “tomboy” as recently as 2016. (This page is also relevant because he specifically does say Jon and Arya “were the two odd birds in the Stark family nest”.) She does tell Lady Smallwood that the acorn dress was pretty, but that’s followed shortly by this:

the dress she put her in this time was sort of lilac-colored, and decorated with little baby pearls. The only good thing about it was that it was so delicate that no one could expect her to ride in it.

—ASoS, Arya IV

Which I interpreted as: Arya was relieved she wouldn’t have to wear the dress. I think there’s a bit of muddying in discussion because by modern standards (at least in the US), Arya isn’t that much of a “tomboy.” I’m kind of opposed to the term at all because I think it’s sexist, but it’s easier than typing out “doesn’t conform to the gender stereotypes ascribed to girls.” But in Westeros, gender roles for girls and women are far narrower and swordplay is seen as very off-limits for girls and women. So I think some people see talk of Arya’s non-conformity and think that a girl wielding a sword just isn’t that big of a deviation from the norms without taking into account the norms in-universe.

I admit that I have a bit of a knee-jerk reaction to the notion that Arya would like “feminine” activities just as much if not for the way she was treated because I fear treading into essentialism territory, i.e., the only reason a girl wouldn’t like “feminine” activities is if she had bad experience, which is a sexist notion. I don’t think that’s what you or most others are actually saying and Arya is just one case, so saying Arya might like these things doesn’t mean all girls would, but yknow. Just my reaction to the dialogue because there ARE some people who believe that and espouse such rhetoric. But I am particularly fond of the idea that Arya would like and be good at embroidery specifically and her struggle was just that she was left-handed. She loves flowers and does have an appreciation for beauty so I like to imagine that she could learn to embroider flowers onto things for children. Applying real psychology to fictional characters again but it’s definitely not uncommon for siblings to avoid the things the other/s excel at to avoid competition. My little sister avoided art not because she was bad at it or had any bad experiences, but I was the artist. She got more into it as a way to calm anxiety and found that she’s very good too and now my parents have work by both of us on their walls! So it’s definitely not a big leap of logic and I’m curious about any direct support of this in the text.

Time to ramble. I’m thinking about the way Arya and Sansa fans seem to get into this debate about who was more lonely and neglected in Winterfell. Which is kind of funny because then the arguments get totally reversed when debating other aspects of the characters. But anyway. The general arguments seem to be:

1. Arya was clearly the neglected outcast. This is clear in the meta narrative because of her connection to Jon and the fact that she doesn’t look like her true born siblings. The more direct evidence comes from the way Sansa and Jeyne teased her, the harshness of Septa Mordane, and Catelyn’s exasperation. It can be inferred that Arya feels a sense of insecurity wrt to her family ties as she wonders if her own mother would want her back after everything that happened. It can be assumed that she was a bit of an outcast based on her disinterest in the things expected of her as a girl, and we see the way many characters look down upon non-conforming women and girls in-universe. Sansa, on the other hand, receives praise from her mother and the septa and has two named close friends in Winterfell. She happily conforms to what is expected of her as a highborn girl and we can assume she would fit in in Winterfell.

2. Sansa was clearly the neglected outcast. This is clear in the meta narrative because she is the only one to lose her direwolf, which is the family symbol. The more direct evidence comes from contrast with Arya, whom Sansa observes can “make friends with anybody,” seemingly in contrast to herself. Ned agreed to kill Lady despite knowing she was innocent and indulged Arya’s interest in swordplay whilst being unenthusiastic about indulging Sansa’s interest in tourneys. Arya is demonstrated to be beloved by Ned’s men in a way we do not observe with Sansa. We can assume that Sansa didn’t feel like she belonged because of her interest in sothron culture, something none of her siblings share. Arya, on the other hand, is extroverted, makes friends easily, is northern in appearance, and has no interest in sothron culture, so we can assume she fit in in Winterfell.

I actually don’t think a lot of the points in the two arguments is mutually exclusive. We also have to remember POV bias. Arya doesn’t reflect on Any friends her age she had at Winterfell (I am not including Mycah because I am under the impression they became friends on the way to King’s Landing), but Arya is not one to reflect and reminisce. Sansa notices that Arya can make friends with anyone, but she doesn’t experience Arya’s inner world. What does Sansa mean by making friends? Does she see Arya having fun and being at ease talking to anyone and feel envy, since she herself feels like is performing, always minding her manners, when she’s socializing with most people? Could it be that Arya is friendly but struggles to find long term close friends like Jeyne and Beth, attributing this disparity to Sansa’s “ladylike” interests? Could it be that being teased by Sansa and her friends and scolded by Catelyn and Mordane has made Arya assume that other girls wouldn’t be interested in close friendship with her, causing her to be friendly but keep a certain distance? (**please note I am not trying to make a case for nlog Arya. I think keeping a distance because you assume you’ll be rejected is different and does not require that she looks down upon other girls, because there is no evidence for that here**)

I don’t have a good conclusion I just think it’s interesting that this is something that gets debated because the truth is probably somewhere in the middle. We can’t know because we get very few flashbacks and the story picks up when their normal lives in Winterfell end. I can’t speak to George’s intentions but if we pretend they’re real people I’d speculate that both would have felt misplaced within Winterfell at times, envying certain traits about the other

[slutforsilverfoxes]

Lady Luck

It was a Friday evening in late summer, warm, but not so hot that it was unbearable, the perfect weather for enjoying a night out with your girlfriends. And after working a full week (and then some) at your hospital, you’d definitely earned some time to unwind.

“Yknow when you said ‘Let’s go to that new bar!’ I thought you meant the drinking kind, not the jazz kind,” your friend groaned as you stepped into the establishment. It looked like a scene straight from the 1920s, red velvet lavishly covering all the seating, bright lights over the bar itself while the rest of the room had a subtler ambience. Large booths surrounded the dance floor which ended in a raised wooden stage. The band was finishing their setup, playing a few notes and adjusting to the feel of the room and the crowd they were preparing to entertain for the next few hours.

“Well why else would I tell you to dress up like this?” you laughed, gesturing to your elegant cocktail attire. While some of your friends had chosen beautiful, modern pieces with cutouts that left little to the imagination, you had opted for a simple LBD. They often teased you for your “grandma” style, but you preferred to call it classic and classy.

“I think we’re the youngest people here,” one of your colleagues groaned. “8 ounces of wine PRN forever.” You all laughed at her prescription pun, following her to the gorgeous bar. As you perused the liquor options, you used the large mirror adorning the bar to glance at some of the other patrons. There was a pretty good-sized crowd tonight, obviously intrigued by a new jazz bar in downtown DC. Most of the current downtown scene was full of clubs advertising epilepsy-inducing strobe lights, so it was nice to have a calmer, more laidback venue. At least, you thought so.

“What can I get for ya, doll?” You looked up to meet the handsome bartender’s charming smile, his bright blue eyes twinkling.

You threw a big smile back his way; after all, you were young, single, and definitely here for more than just enjoying some Sinatra. “It’s my first time here since you guys opened, so what would you recommend?”

“Besides me?” He winked, and you found yourself blushing inadvertently. “I think a girl like you would enjoy a classic. How about a martini?”

“Mm, close. I’m a gin kinda girl, but not a martini kinda girl. I’ll take a gin and tonic,” you smiled, feeling like you won your little game. He laughed in response and shrugged, graciously accepting his loss. As he mixed your drink, an older gentleman in a suit strutted up to the bar next to you, and you nodded kindly in greeting as you shifted to make some space for him.

“Careful with that one,” he chuckled, nodding toward the bartender, and you could immediately see there was a kindness to his eyes. “Sean Hotchner’s known to be a heartbreaker.”

“Rossi,” Blue Eyes groaned as he slid your drink to you. “C’mon!”

You giggled at the father-son-like interaction and passed your card over between two fingers to start a tab. “How have you picked up on that so fast? I thought this place just opened,” you queried, sipping your drink. Turning back to Blue Eyes- Sean, you corrected yourself- you hummed in appreciation and whispered, “It’s perfect.”

“Sean and I have known each other for quite a while,” Rossi filled in the blanks. “And I’m a profiler. Dave,” he stuck his hand out for you to shake, and you took it warmly. You could feel your friends’ eyes on you and you threw a glance in their direction, nodding your head toward the booths and indicating for them to get comfortable.

“Y/N,” you returned in kind. “What’s a profiler? Like marketing?”

Dave laughed, shaking his head. “More in the business of psychopaths and serial killers. If you’re interested, I could introduce you to my friend who’s our unit chief.” You sensed a change in his tone, and suddenly understood why he spoke to you out of your whole group.

“I’m no profiler,” you paused to take a sip of your drink, “but I’d wager you’re playing wingman right now.”

“Yeah, for my brother,” Sean piped up, rolling his eyes. Nice, you smirked to yourself. If Sean looked like that…

You offered Sean a conciliatory smile, knowing full well he could take home any girl at this club that he wanted. “Well Dave, I’ll be waiting at my table with my friends. You can tell your buddy that he can come talk to me, profiler to new profiler.” Laughing to yourself, you headed in your friends’ direction to fill them in on the past few minutes.

“Girl, I have never seen you flirt like that!” your friend exclaimed, awe and pride adorning her face.

“Hm,” you shrugged with a laugh as you squeezed into the last available space at the booth, “I can be charming when I want to be.”

“Clearly! So are you going home with the hottie with a body?”

Mercifully, the band kicked up a springy jazz beat and you mouthed, “Sorry, can’t hear you” back at your friend. She squinted her eyes at you in response, unamused by your antics.

The lead singer started crooning the opening lines to Luck Be a Lady and you squealed with delight. “This is my favorite Sinatra song!” You shimmied excitedly in your seat and settled back to enjoy the music. Your friend started gesticulating wildly at you, and you gave her a quizzical look. “Hot!” she hissed.

“Hot?” you mumbled to yourself. “Do you need ice or-”

“Y/N, is it?”

You heard a deep voice by your side and turned to look over- no, up- at him. Tall, dark and- “Hot.”

You did not just say that out loud. “Uh, Hotchner!” Nice save. Idiot. “You must be the other Hotchner.”

Heat bloomed across your cheeks as he chuckled softly, looking down at his feet. Despite his imposing stature, he seemed almost shy. “Guilty as charged. But please, call me Aaron.” You nodded, equal parts dumbfounded and mortified. “Would you like to dance?”

He held his hand out to you, and you looked to your friends for reassurance. This stuff didn’t actually happen in real life, right? They nodded eagerly, and you took his hand. He tightened his grip on your hand to aid your standing up, and you couldn’t help but blush at the warmth of his skin, the roughness of his palm. He guided you to the dancefloor and into a simple step, moving in time with the music as the band told the story of Lady Luck and her guy.

“Sorry if Dave was a little… forward earlier,” he muttered softly, warm breath against your ear. “Or Sean. Or anyone else from my life you may have met already.”

You laughed, glancing up into his eyes and feeling your breath stolen from your lungs at the intensity of his gaze. “I gave them a hard time too, don’t worry.”

He smiled down at you and pulled you in closer as another couple swept by. “So what brought you and your friends here?”

“Do you mean what are people in their twenties doing here?” you clarified, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“I mean,” he emphasized, twirling you around and earning an elated laugh from you, “what brought you and your friends here?”

“Well,” you smiled, loving the dichotomy of confidence and bashfulness in him, “I’ve always wanted to come to a place like this. Get swept of my feet by an older man.” You saw a flash of defiance in his eyes at your teasing and mentally high-fived yourself.

“Older, hm? Considering you said you’re in your twenties, that could mean anything from thirty to eighty.” By this time, you’ve glided close to the stage, and the singer leaned in to serenade you. “Let’s keep this party polite…”

Ah, sweet irony.

“And would you fall into that category, Aaron?” you asked cheekily.

“What do you think?”

“I think Dave told me you’re the profiler.”

“And I think I still don’t know what you do.”

“Smooth,” you grinned. “I’m a vet. The doctor kind, not the military kind.”

A smile bloomed across his face, highlighting his beautiful features. “That must be incredibly rewarding.”

“It is,” you nodded in agreement. “Of course, there are difficult days but seeing happy pets and happy families makes it worthwhile. What about you, Mr. Unit Chief of the acronym I forgot?”

“BAU,” he supplied. “Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. We have our good days and bad days, too.”

“I can imagine. What made you want to go into that line of work?” The song trailed off as you finished your question, and you didn’t miss the look of disappointment that flitted across his face, echoing your own. “We could… continue this at a table?” you offered shyly.

“I would love that,” he confessed. “Would you like to meet the rest of my team?” He rushed out the question, then looked shocked that he had asked it. “I mean, only if you want to. Or we could sit with your friends. Or alone.”

“If we sat with my friends, you wouldn’t get a word in edgewise,” you laughed. “I would love to meet your team.”

Placing his hand at the small of your back, he guided you over to a group of agents who more so resembled a group of teenagers at the moment. Much like your friends, they were giggling and gossiping about the two of you, clearly not used to their unit chief in such a position.

“I’ll… go get us a drink,” Aaron offered, making a quick exit.

You barely eked out an “Okay!” before he disappeared, and you were left standing in front of his team. “Hello,” you smiled politely. “I’m Y/N.”

“How did you get him to smile so much?”

“How long have you known each other?”

“Where did you get that dress? It’s gorgeous!”

Everyone started talking at once, overwhelming you. Dave hushed them all and gestured for you to take a seat as he introduced the team one by one.

“Derek, Emily, JJ, Spencer, you know me, of course, and-”

“Garcia!” she cut him off excitedly. “Penelope Garcia, and we are going to be best friends, I can just tell!” Her smile was infectious and you felt a sense of comfort wash over you in the presence of these strangers. For some reason, something about this moment felt incredibly right.

You sent your friends a text explaining where you were and apologizing for leaving them on girls’ night. In response, you got a bunch of encouragement and dismissals of your apology. You smiled to yourself, appreciating how supportive your colleagues and friends were. They knew it had been a long time, and I mean a long time, since you had done anything for yourself, including dating.

Aaron returned to the table, and you shifted further into the booth to make room for him as he placed a glass in front of you. “Mojito?” you asked him, tilting the clear liquid and sprigs of mint back and forth.

“I figured you could use something to cool off after that stellar performance,” he grinned at you.

You nodded seriously, taking a sip. “10s all around. For the dance and the drink.”

“To answer your earlier question,” he paused to have some of his own drink- a scotch man, you noted- “I used to be a prosecutor. But I got to a point where I wanted to stop the bad guys before their cases fell on my desk.”

Swoon. “You’re incredible. I mean, you’re admirable. I mean, that’s admirable.” Oh. My. God.

You saw Penelope toss a fry in Derek’s direction, admonishing him as he chuckled behind his drink. You could feel heat rising to your cheeks, realizing you sounded like an inexperienced teenage girl compared to these sophisticated FBI agents.

“Hey,” Aaron said softly, brushing his hand over yours. “I think you’re pretty incredible, too. Also, I’m 44. And I totally understand if that changes things for you.”

“Actually Aaron,” you grinned, “17 just happens to be my lucky number.”

He returned your smile and the two of you turned your attention back to the team’s conversation, a debate over who’s pulled more girls: Derek or Emily.

“Definitely Emily,” JJ asserted, making pointed eye contact with the brunette. Emily threw her fist up in victory as Derek protested, ready to show off his moves with the ladies right here, right now.

You boldly wrapped your arm around Aaron’s and snuggled in closer to him, earning yourself a warm smile that made your heart skip a beat. “Clearly they’re both wrong,” you murmured to him privately. “It’s definitely you, ‘cause you have the best wingman.”

Dave threw you a wink across the table as Aaron laughed, raising his glass in a toast. “To the best wingmen out there, David Rossi and Frank Sinatra.”

[andshedoesitagain]

wrapped up with you.

10k & Reader get stranded in the woods together includes:-

Ten helping reader get up into a tree  

Splattering little kisses all over readers face

Trying to share body warmth  

Ten’s vv concerned about reader, and it just shows how sweet he is.

Reader and Ten teasing each other and tensionnn (not smut though)

One shot                                                                                             Words - 1.7k

“I can’t--I can’t keep running, just--just give me a minute--” You heaved out, trying not to double over as you clutched your stomach. Crouching down to sit on your heels, you attempted to even out your breaths, desperate to calm the harsh pounding in your chest and ears. 

 It felt like you had been running for hours, each footstep leading you further from the rest of your group as you went. Any other day a group of raiders wouldn’t have been much cause of concern, but lost in the middle of the woods, having gone at least two days without food or water, Warren and the others had promptly been caught in a moment of weakness.  

You and 10 had led out a little further from the rest of the group, trying to find any clue of an end to the forest you had all been trekking through for more time than you had liked. When nothing had turned up, you both made way back to everyone else, shoulders slumped to deliver the news.  

That’s when you had heard the first gunshots, and the shouting, chaos ensuing past both the trees and your eyeline. Making a break for it, 10 following closely by your side, you arrived cautiously, kneeling down behind some tall bushes to assess the situation before you.  

Your group was completely outnumbered that much was clear, they were all knelt down across from the raiders, whom of which were all dressed in camo and caked in blood. 

Doc caught your eye from across the clearing, tipping his head to the side, as a secret gesture to get away, you couldn’t help but shake your head in response, to which Doc tried once again to convince you without words. “What are you looking at, old man?” One of the raiders spat, head whipping around in the direction of you and 10. 

Eyes widening, you pulled 10 further down to the ground beside you, trying to further hide yourself.  Although 10k seemed to be mustering his own plan silently as he turned to look at you, his hand already firmly planted in your own. “On the count of three, we’re gonna run, okay?”  

Before you even had the chance to understand his scheme, he was already counting, and you were making your way up from your knees, blindly following the taller man, as you heard more murmurs and footsteps heading towards you.

  “One...” Rustling emerged from the bushes not far in front of you, “...two...” 10 continued, looking at you once again, before setting his eyes forward. “...three!”  

Hands still tightly clamped together; you began running, much heavier footsteps following not far behind. 

10k fell to his knees beside you, looking around wildly for sight of another person. Turning to you, he placed his hand on your arm, a look of concern plastered over his face, “you okay?” 

Nodding, you finally took a moment to swallow the lump in your throat, “are you?” You replied, your own worry seeping through. 

10 mumbled out a quiet “yeah,” before continuing to gaze around.  

It was getting dark fast, and you couldn’t help but let out an anxious sigh, going to stand up, 10 wordlessly caught your arm to help you to your feet. “We should find somewhere to hide out for a bit, and then figure out what do it when it’s lighter,” you mumbled, trying to piece together your thoughts as you spoke. 

Looking one of the many trees around you up and down, 10 spoke, “we’re safer off the ground, I'm pretty sure we outran those assholes, but we wanna stay hidden, yknow just in case.” He said looking to you for understanding. 

“Okay, yeah, good idea.” Adjusting your gun into its holster, you joined 10 into looking up the tree, it didn’t look too difficult to get up, and any fear of heights you had was swiftly being pushed to the background by the fear you had of being found by those raiders. 

10k swung his rifle to his back, and stood in front of the tree, “You go up first, I’ll help you,” interlocking his fingers together as a holster for you to stand on, you nodded once again and carefully placed your foot into his hands, gripping on to his shoulders for extra support.  

Getting a good grip of one of the thicker branches you started pulling yourself up to lower branches of the tree, 10 moving his hands to your waist to help you hoist yourself up. 

Soon enough you found yourself higher up in the tree, 10k not far behind you, him reaching out to your hips whenever you thought you were going to stumble.  Reaching an area of the tree, where the branches all spread out from, you finally sat down, making room for 10 beside you. 

It was a tight fit, you having to drape your legs over 10’s own as he pulled them up to his chest. “This is comfy,” you said half-heartedly, trying to insert a little light into the situation, but the tired shake of your voice, didn’t seem to convince 10 any.  

“You should try and sleep, I’ll keep watch, we’re covered up here anyways,” he whispered, pushing a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, before trailing his fingertips along your cheek. 

 If anything was to ever help calm the biting fear pooling your stomach, it was 10. 

Dragging your eyes from his lips to his eyes you took a deep breath, “we’ll find them in the morning and they’re going to be okay, they--they’ve probably already got away right?” You whispered back, your clumsy attempt to convince yourself sounding more and more like a question as you spoke. 

“Yeah, they’ll be okay, we can get out of anything, this isn’t any different.” He replied, continuing to stroke your cheek. It was then you noticed how purple under his eyes had become, with the gentlest touch you could muster you ran your hand through his hair, pulling some of it out of his bandana.  

“We need to find a river soon, your hair is practically matted,” you diverted, an attempt of a smile dancing on your lips. 

Running his hand up to your own hair, he rolled his eyes, “you say that like your hair is any better.” Shaking your head away from his hand in mock offence, you playfully slapped at his arm. 

“I have no clue what you’re talking about, I’m the picture of good hygiene, you on the other hand smell like you’ve never bathed in your life.” Raising an eyebrow at your statement, 10 pursed his lips for a moment. 

“Oh really?” You gave a quick nod, as you tried not to smirk, “it’s like that, huh?” 10 continued, but before you got the chance to give a witty remark, he wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling his head into your chest, “well now you’re gonna smell just as bad as me, how’s that?”  

At the tickling feeling of his hair passing your neck and chin, you couldn’t help but let out hushed giggles, “grossssssss,” you trailed when he finally sat back up again, pride emanating from him. “You think I won’t push you out of this tree?” Tilting your head, you looked up to him with narrowed eyes. 

“Nah, you like me too much, plus who’d help you down then?” It was your turn to roll your eyes as you scrunched up your nose in retort. “I don’t actually like you at all, so I don’t know where you got that idea,” you shot back, eyes still narrowed towards him. 

Leaning down he pressed a quick kiss to your nose, “uhuh sure, totally,” he dragged, pressing another kiss to your cheek, and then another to the other side. 

You couldn’t help the smile that broke out over your face, “ugh fine, I guess I like you a little,” you breathed leaning up to meet his lips. Pressing your hands to his cheeks as you kissed, he softly kneaded at your hip, before pulling away slowly.  

“Now try and sleep for a bit,” the dark-haired man cooed, placing his hands on your knees which were still pressed up against his chest, as you just nearly sat on his lap. 

It didn’t take long for your eyelids to become heavy enough to start drifting off, but the unrelenting chattering of your teeth soon became a heavy distraction, along with the shiver that ran down each of your limbs, the shiver that had built until it became constant. 

10k held your knees tighter to his chest, running his hands up and down them more firmly in attempt to calm your jittering, and also to try and soothe his own, not trying to worry you anymore than you already were about the situation at hand.  

Pulling your hands to his lips, he rubbed them between his own, before fanning his breath over your fingers, you could see through the pale moonlight that his own fingertips were almost purple, not that he seemed to notice.  

When you became no warmer, you gently removed your hands from his, before shuffling up further to sit up against his back. “What’re you doing?” Ignoring his question, you began to pull at the oversized jacket he had on, one that was more holes than it was fabric.  

Adjusting it until it fell over your shoulders, you then moved his arms to wrap them around your waist, now taking your own turn to rub your palms over his long limbs. “I’m sharing my body heat, you’re welcome,” you muttered, leaning your head back against his shoulder.  

“Is that better?” You then went on to ask, glancing up at him, concern knitted in your brow. 10k couldn’t help but stare at you through the dark, his eyes soft at your attentiveness. 

“Mhm, yeah, this is good.” Pressing a sweet kiss to your knuckles, he intertwined his fingers with your own. 

Smiling, you finally let your eyes flutter closed, whispering out a quiet, “good.”

 hope you liked this one! If you want a part two let me know, and feel free to put in any requests :)

[iamanartichoke]

I wasn't sure if I was going to post this, but I may as well.

I keep starting to reply to things and then stopping bc the words just aren't there, and I suppose I figured out the core of what bothers me so much (and is making me have such a rollercoaster of a fan experience) about the show.

(cut for length)

It's not well-written. My opinion is my opinion, so I'm saying this subjectively, take it or leave it, but ... I feel that it's not well-written. The overall story is fine, and the plot is fine, but I don't know if it's because of the limited number of episodes not being enough to house the story, or because of the relative inexperience of the writer/showrunner+director, or both, or something else, but -

In an earlier reaction post to episode 4, I mentioned really wanting to sink my teeth into all of the subtext I picked up on. That was what made me initially enjoy the episode so much - there were a lot of little moments that I initially felt revealed so much about the characters and about Loki, and I wanted to analyze them. But at some point, as I gathered more information, my perspective changed and now I no longer want to analyze the subtext bc ... subtext = good. Subtext w/out payoff = not as good.

I'll go into more detail in a moment, but I think the tl;dr of it is that I feel like the narrative requires the audience to work way too hard to put together all of the moving pieces here and, like, I kinda just don't want to do that work? Not so much of it, and not in vain. A lot of the enjoyment of Loki's characterization is coming from fans who are rationalizing why he's behaving as he is, but the narrative never actually confirms those rationalizations. It's asking us to figure it out and maybe our conclusions will be correct but maybe they won't, though. At some point, subtext isn't enough without explicit follow-through.

I thought my issue was with the lack of character development - that is, not having enough narrative space to really earn the big things that are happening now, like Loki/Sylvie or Mobius turning against the TVA. And that's still true, to an extent; I still feel like the pacing is all very off and it seems like most of these things kinda came out of nowhere (but are not unbelievable - just undeveloped).

But, yknow, it is what it is, it's a limited series, and I can excuse some things. Ultimately, my issue isn't a problem with what the narrative isn't doing, it's a problem with what the narrative already failed to do and probably cannot recover from at this point.

The narrative has left out significant details that should at least help us do some of the work here. If a person turned on Loki and started episode 1 and had no background knowledge of the character besides that he tried to take over New York - how would that person interpret Loki? Would that person say, oh, well, he's been through X, Y, and Z, and plus A happened, not to mention B, C, and D, so really, it makes sense that he seems off-the-rails, or that he'd want to get ridiculously drunk at the worst time ever.

Maybe we'd like to believe they would, but how would they be getting to that conclusion? The narrative hasn't led them in that direction so, no, they would not say well we have to consider this, this, and that. It would be impossible to really understand Loki as a character from just what we've gotten in the series. The general audience would probably interpret Loki as being out of his element and so it becomes, I wonder how this character is going to get the upper hand here. And, while that's not wrong, it's just so limited.

The narrative at face value does not address Loki's identity crisis from Thor 2011. It does not address his hurt and devastation at being lied to, nor does it address how complicated his self-image is (bc it sucked to begin with and that was before he found out he was part of a race of "monsters," as he'd been taught his entire life). It does not reference Loki being so broken at the end of Thor 2011 that he deliberately let himself fall into the void of space (aka tried to kill himself). It does not reference that he was tortured by Thanos or even that he went through a seriously dark time in between Thor and Avengers, and it absolutely does not reference or address any influence or control of the mind stone.

These are all things that we, the fan audience, know because we've already invested our time into this character's story. But tons of people, the general audience, wouldn't know these things. Or if they did, bc they saw Thor and Avengers, they wouldn't be thinking about them as deeply as we would, nor contextualizing them with how Loki is behaving now, or why it would make sense that he needed to get drunk, or why it's understandable that he needs to keep going-going-going in order to not have a spare second to think or feel.

They'd probably look at Loki, again, as a character who was a villain and is now getting his comeuppance in a place where he has no power or control, and no literal powers, and even when he manages to escape and catch up to the variant, he proceeds to fuck up their plan for seemingly no real reason except that he wanted to get drunk bc he's hedonistic. Which Sylvie even berates him for! I mean. This is not exactly a complex character breakdown, nor a very flattering one, but that's what the narrative has given us.

(If the narrative has addressed Loki's mind control, his torture, his mental breakdown, his suicide attempt, and his general shitty self-esteem as a result of his upbringing, please point it out to me. If the narrative has explicitly acknowledged and referenced these things anywhere and I am missing it, please show me where. Please explain to me how the casual viewer would know any of these things that they need to know in order to actually understand what's happening in this story.)

So I mean, okay, we have a narrative that doesn't paint a full, accurate picture of Loki. Fine, sure. But because the general audience starts out on the wrong footing, they're not going to get out of the overall story what the writers probably intended them to. For example, in episode 3, a lot of us theorized that Loki had some kind of plan - that he broke the timepad on purpose, for some reason, bc otherwise it wasn't believable that he'd be such a failure. But episode 4 revealed that no, there was no bigger plan, Loki just plain old messed up. Which is fine if, again, one is only considering the surface-level portrayal here, but it's not true to Loki's actual characterization.

I mean. Loki is not perfect and Loki actually fails a lot, this is true. He fails for a lot of reasons, but incompetence has never been one of them. Usually it's that either things grew beyond his control, or there ended up being too many moving parts, or he had to change his plan at the last minute due to some roadblock or another being thrown his way, or even that he got in his own way - whatever the case may be for his plans' failures, he was always at least shown to know what he was doing.

That wasn't the case here. The "plan" to fix the Timepad failed as a direct result of Loki's actions, which were careless and made him seem incompetent, like he couldn't even handle this mission. "You had one job," etc. And there were pretty big consequences for this; they were not able to get off-world in time and would have been killed had the TVA not shown up at the last second.

And maybe none of these things matter bc the writers never intended any of this to be a reflection on Loki's character, positive or negative. The situation exists solely because the writers needed to put Loki and Sylvie together in some kind of hopeless scenario so that they could get closer, and thus the narrative could set up their romance. I get that - but, there were other ways to do it that didn't require Loki to look foolish.

Furthermore, the whole reason they needed to set up the romance is to show Loki eventually learning to love himself (like, figuratively but also literally). The audience is supposed to gather that Loki and Sylvie fell for one another, possibly due to the high emotional aspect of, yknow, being about to die (in addition to the variant-bond). The intent is clear: Loki and Sylvie almost die but get rescued at the last minute, having now created an emotional bond --> Loki and Sylvie team up and the narrative further establishes that Loki, at least, has caught feelings --> Loki might confess them but is pruned before he gets the chance --> he somehow survives, he and Sylvie are reunited and don't want to lose one another again, and the combined power of their love is enough to break the sacred timeline and spawn the multiverse, and the reason that the power of their love is so, well, powerful is because it's about self-love and self-acceptance as much as it is about having the capacity to love someone else. The end.

I get all that. The writers more or less said all that. And, I mean, it's certainly not the way I would have chosen to go about it, but it's a fair enough arc to explore. I don't really have an issue with the intent - but my question, however, is this: if the narrative has so far not addressed Loki's background issues (as outlined above), and has furthermore kinda gone out of its way to portray Loki as hedonistic and narcissistic, among other things (like kinda incompetent), and the context the audience starts with is that Loki's this villain who deserves what he gets -

- my question is 1, why should the audience care whether or not Loki gets to a point of loving and accepting himself (thus to make the theme of self-love, via the romance, hold weight) if they don't know that he hates himself to begin with and 2, why should the audience root for Loki to reach that point when so far the perception of him is that he's "kind of an asshole"? if he's a hedonistic narcissist, he probably already has a pretty inflated sense of himself, right? A misplaced inflated sense of himself, at that, because, again, the narrative has made him out to be not that capable of much of anything. (And it didn't start out that way! It seemed to start out with Loki being capable and intelligent but it's like episode 3, in trying to set up the romance, just jumbled it all up somewhere. I think this is why I'm harping on the Loki/Sylvie aspect so much - it's frustrating bc it kinda messes up the whole story and can't even accomplish what it's supposed to anyway.)

Anyway, that's beside the point. What I'm ultimately getting at is, at what point is the audience supposed to get invested in Loki's personal growth journey?

They can't, not really. Without understanding and having the context of everything Loki has been through up until now, and why he hates himself, and why it's so important that he learn to love himself, then the "payoff" becomes kinda pointless bc the significance of it is lost in translation. So suddenly we're left with this romance that comes off as either "Loki loves Sylvie bc of Reasons" (best-case scenario) or "Loki loves Sylvie bc he's vain, narcissistic, and kinda twisted" (worst-case scenario). Neither of these conclusions are what the writers intended or were going for, I'm positive, but there we are, regardless.

In order for the writers' intent in these storylines to land, they need to address the context of what makes these particular stakes high for Loki. So far, they haven't done that. They're asking the audience to pick up on all of these things, and they're showing things that subtextually make sense and are relatively in-character - but only if you realize there's subtext in the first place.

But you can't expect the audience to do all of the work for you. If you don't want the audience to think that Loki is a narcissistic asshole and instead you are trying to convey that, worst-case scenario, he thinks he's a narcissist but is an unreliable narrator, then you have to address that. If you need the audience to understand why you're going the selfcest route and why it's important to explore Loki's capacity to love himself and others, you have to address where that exploration is starting from and why it matters. Etc etc etc.

The narrative isn't doing any of that. And it isn't like it'd be that hard to do it. They don't need to reinvent the wheel here; a lot of the pieces are already there. A few lines of dialogue for context, a brief scene here or there addressing the issues, a little more care and consistency in how Loki handles things - these are all little things that could go a long fucking way in making the narrative stronger.

I'm rambling. My basic point is that my rollercoaster of emotions with this show is because

- as a part of the fan audience, not the general one, I can contextualize and analyze the subtext and come to the conclusions the show wants me to, and thus find the story and the characters more or less enjoyable,

- but I am also going to be using the subtext to come to conclusions that aren't there but probably should be (I think it would be a better story, for example, for Loki to confuse platonic love with romantic love bc it would pave the way to explore just how fucked up Loki's understanding of love - whether of other people or of himself, and the different forms it can take - actually is)

- and when they're ultimately not there, then I think, okay why am I bothering doing all this work just to ultimately feel very unfulfilled? They don't even have to write it the way I would, I'm not saying that, but they do have to do something to make the story feel rewarding.

If we don't get some confirmation of what Loki's been through, and where his headspace is, and why it matters for him to love himself, then the story remains pretty shallow and, for me, it's not fulfilling enough. It's not engaging enough. There isn't actually anything to sink my teeth into, so it becomes kind of boring. Maybe it's rewarding to other people, and that's great for them, but like - I need more than whatever this is.

So I'm just like - well, I had a lot of worries about this show, but my being bored wasn't one of them and now there's only two episodes left and am I really not going to get anything out of this, in the long run? No new canons, no new depths or layers, no new information on Loki's experiences? This is it?

I don't dislike it. I didn't start out disliking it, and I probably wont end up disliking it. I mean, there are a lot of good moments, and good things, and fan service-y things that I appreciate. As far as inspiration for fic goes, it's a goldmine, both plot-wise as well as aesthetic-wise. All of that is great. I don't dislike this show.

But I am disappointed in it, and I feel like I'll be watching the next two episodes lacking the sense of anticipation that would make it exciting. I'll still enjoy them, probably, if for nothing else just the sheer Loki content, but whatever it was I felt watching episodes 1 and 2 is gone and I'm sad about that, too. Because I really wanted to feel fulfilled by this series; I wanted it to fill up the void that Loki's death in IW created three years ago. And I just ... don't feel it. Maybe, maybe that'll change over the course of episodes 5 and 6. I don't know.

Everything that I end up enjoying long-term, I think, will come about as a result of my own interpretations and analysis and while theoretically there's nothing wrong with that, if I had known all I'd get out of this series was more headcanons or support for my current headcanons then, well - that's fine, I suppose, but I'll definitely a little bit robbed.

[elysiadjarin]

Day 7: Lingerie

Guys, we’ve officially reached over 300 followers! Thank you to every single one of you. When I first started, I never imagined having so many people who enjoyed my content. I appreciate every single one of you, thank you so much! In honor of this milestone, I’ve decided for Day 7 prompt to bring back a popular character; that’s right, our best boi Varen is back for round two! I hope he gets the love he deserves! Find my Kinktober Masterlist here.

Warnings: Minors DNI, this is 18+ content ONLY. PinV unprotected sex, entirely consensual, exophilia, terato, but mostly pretty vanilla in general. ;)

Tags: Hat Man x Reader, exophilia, terato.

Sweet Surprise

“So how’s it going?” Harlow slid up to you, teasingly bumping his hip against yours. “You know, with your mans.” His eyebrows wiggled.

You rolled your eyes but had to smile. “Fine, I’d say.” You shrugged. “I mean, I think he’s been getting enough energy? He’s actually starting to get to the point where he’s almost fully solid even during the day time,” you reflected.

His eyebrows shot up. “Well, talk about getting dicked down, bestie,” he said, a grin splitting his face.

You flushed, reaching over to smack his arm. “Harlow, seriously!” you groaned. “I’ve been trying to give him energy in other ways too.”

He tilted his head. “Wait, seriously? How?”

You pursed your lips, tugging at your hair. “Well, I mean yes he’s been getting energy that way, but I’ve also tried using crystals. We’ve figured out that apparently it works well if I infuse quartz with energy and he holds onto it during the day.”

“Ah, that makes sense.” Harlow nodded. “I’m telling you though, that direct body contact—“

You buried your face into your hands with a quiet whine. “Harlowwwww.”

He just chuckled. “Hey, look, I just want you to be happy, yknow? And you seem to be with him.”

You gave him an embarrassed but grateful smile. “Thank you, Harl. You really are my best friend, you know.”

He tossed his head, the strings of beads around his horns clacking. “Oh you know it,” he sniffed. “Anyway, so all’s good in paradise.”

You pursed your lips, mind wandering on a tangent.

“Oh, is it not?” Harlow raised an eyebrow at you.

You blinked, then flushed. “Oh… well, I mean, we’re fine, but… I’ve run into a bit of a problem.” You winced a little. “Maybe TMI though-?”

“We just got done confirming that I’m your best friend,” Harlow said dryly. “Spill.”

You gave him a grateful smile. “Well, I’ve basically been going to sleep with just a T-shirt on. The only problem is that by the time I wake up, it’s always twisted around me really awkwardly. It’s uncomfortable. And I don’t like sleeping without clothes because I get cold, so…”

“Ah. The age-old problem of easy accessibility without complete nudity,” Harlow said with a sage nod, making you snort. Then he grinned. Luckily for you, bestie, a solution has been discovered for a long time.” He flicked his fingers. “It’s sexy, it’s easy, and it’s comfortable.”

You blinked, trying to think of what he might be saying.

“Lingerie, bestie.” He shook his finger at you. “So you got any or am I gonna have to drag you out to get some.”

Your eyes widened. You supposed that was… one way to do it. Then you bit your lip. “Um, no… I mean, I don’t have any…”

His grin widened in a way that made you swallow. “Well then… we’re taking a shopping trip after work.”

You knew it was futile to protest.

~

Walking back into the house, you let the door swing closed behind you. Locking the door, you dropped the keys onto the counter and sighed, setting your bags down. The pink shopping bag stared back at you expectantly, making you bite your lip as you sighed.

Not that you didn’t like what you’d gotten, but… You had to wonder how Varen would react. Though your Hat Man certainly had done nothing but adore you to no end, you still had to wonder if he would like the various kinds you’d bought. Or if he’d even really care? Did he find that sort of thing… attractive?

Shaking your head, you huffed softly and went to go put your things away. As soon as you walked into the bedroom, Varen materialized in the doorway. Though the sunlight was still coming though the window, he still had a rather solid form, only the edges a little wispy and translucent.

He walked up to you, his glowing blue eyes gazing down at you with an open warmth. Hallo, sweetheart. The sweet curl of his Brooklyn accent washed over you.

You reached up and wrapped your arms around him with a smile. “Hi, Varen,” you greeted back, nuzzling against his chest.

A soft chuckle rippled through your mind, and his hands landed on your waist. Have a good day?

You hummed and nodded, leaning up to briefly kiss his cheek. “Yep! I actually got to go out with Harlow after work, which was nice. We haven’t done that in a while.” Gently pulling away from him, you flitted over to the vanity to wipe your makeup off. “It was fun, actually.”

He sat behind you on the edge of your bed, chin propped in his hand as he watched you. Even without completely discernible features, the infatuated adoration with which he gazed at you was unmistakable. It practically radiated from him.

Bet ya were the prettiest one out there, sweetheart.

You shook your head with a soft laugh. “Oh, Varen. You’re biased.” Still, you had to smile at him. “But thank you, you’re sweet.”

His wispy hum floated through the air. Such a pretty little thing.

You flushed at the endearment, reminded of the first time he’d said it. Wiping the last of the makeup off of your face, you nodded through the mirror. “Did the crystal work well?”

He nodded, holding it up in his hand. Almost there.

“That’s good.” Standing, you turned to walk over to the closet. “I’m going to go take a shower and then get ready for bed. Do you need anything?”

He shook his head. Will wait for you.

You flashed him a quick smile as you headed for the bathroom. “Thank you, love!”

As soon as you closed the bathroom door, you sucked in a breath and glanced at the pink bag sitting on the counter. You went to take a shower, deciding that you’d figure out which one to wear while you washed up.

Should you wear the red halter neck lace? The black garters? Or maybe… Since this was the first night, after all… Your eyes wandered to the bag.

Once you’d finished showering and had dried off, you glanced at yourself in the mirror and blew out a breath. Well, since you didn’t know how Varen would react, you might as well play it off by not really addressing it. After all, you had originally gotten it because you wanted to be comfortable, right? If your new nightwear also made Varen a little more crazy over you—if that was even possible—so much the better. No one would hear youcomplain about it.

Smoothing your hands over the silk, you took one last anxious glance in the mirror. The babydoll silk nightgown dripped from your curves, a bit lacy but rather comfortable against your skin without any awkward tucks or frills. The bottom hem didn’t even make it halfway down your thighs, fluttery and soft. Biting your lip, you sighed and wondered if Varen would notice that it was blue. You’d immediately thought of him the moment you’d seen it.

Shaking your head at yourself, you took in a breath and clapped your hands to your cheeks. Before you could lose all of your courage, you opened the door and stepped back into the bedroom. Turning, you closed the door behind you.

“Varen, did you close the curtains?” You turned around and paused.

Varen stood by the bed, his entire body completely frozen. His eyes fixed on you, trailing down your body, lingering on the places where the lace just barely showed a hint of your skin.

You shuffled a little, hands tucking behind you. “V-Varen?” you asked hesitantly.

He slowly walked forward, until he practically towered over you. He tilted his head, his blue tongue slowly licking over his lips. Did I do something, sweets?

Your eyes widened, and your tugged at the hem of the nightdress. “D-do something?”

Musta done somethin’ real good, ta deserve this… His talons twitched, as though he desperately wanted to reach out for you. So pretty…

You swore if he could he’d be drooling, and you felt your face flush as you looked down at your feet. “I… I take it you like it, then,” you said shyly, peering up at him from under your eyelashes.

He chuckled. Like? Love, sweetheart. Love you. Love this.

You smiled. “I-I wanted to get something actually comfortable for myself. But I saw this color and it- it reminded me of you, so…” You bit your lip.

Varen reached out, his talons landing lightly on your hips, slipping over the soft fabric. Leaning down, he nuzzled against your cheek. Wanna feel you. So soft. Pretty.

“Um, let me go to bed, then?” you offered laughingly, hands landing on his chest.

He swept you up, pulling your legs to wrap around his waist as he started to carry you to bed. You laughed, pressing your hands against his shoulders as he gently tipped you backwards and dumped you on the bed. His talons instantly tangled in the soft silk, and he leaned down to nose against your neck, a low purr rumbling though his chest.

Your breath hitched as he touched you gently, sliding across you, his tongue gently dragging over your neck and shoulder. Head tilting, you whimpered and slightly arched into him. You didn’t think you’d ever really get over the way he touched you with such an aching reverence, gentle and loving.

“Hmm— Varen,” you sighed, eyes fluttering open to hazily look up at him.

Thinkin’ of me when you get somethin’ so pretty for yourself… Varen sounded positively giddy. ‘M so lucky, sweetheart. He purred.

“For you,” you whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek. “I’m so glad you like it.” You smiled up at him shyly.

Can I touch you? He all but begged, hands sliding down your thighs, pushing at the hem of your dress.

You nodded, heart skipping a beat. When his talons pushed your dress up, enough to show that you had nothing on underneath, you saw his head tilt. The blue of his eyes flared for a moment, and his tongue poked out to lick a trail of blue across his maw. Leaning down, he kissed you, a bit needy but still polite in a way that made you smile.

Wanna feel. Please. Wanna be greedy, sweetheart.

“Okay,” you murmured, feeling your body flush with arousal.

He laid down on his side, wrapping his talon around your waist and pulling you back into his chest. He ground up against your ass, maw pressing kisses to the back of your neck and shoulder, eliciting a soft moan from you. His other hand swept down, sliding between your legs. His claws gently slid against your core, making you arch and whimper.

Already so wet and warm. Pretty little thing. He breathed, his cock pressing between your ass. He rutted against you slightly, just as his fingers spread you open so the head of his cock pressed right up against you.

Your lips parted in a soft gasp. Varen always knew exactly how to touch you, make you so ready for him with his gentle touch and words. The way he somehow balanced his adoration with his greed. The moment he slid his tip into you, his finger found your clit. Your fingers clutched at the pillow, his name spilling desperately from your lips.

‘Sokay, sweetheart. He murmured into your ear. Gonna take good care of you. Gonna give you what you want.

“Please,” you whined, almost trembling in need. You needed to feel him filling you, stretching you until it was all you could think about, all you could focus on. Feeling his dusky warmth settle into you until you knew nothing else. “Please, Varen—“

His cock slid into you, his hands around your waist pulling you all the way down onto him. He held your hips flush against his, his chest heaving against your back as hiis maw closed over your shoulder.

For a moment you could only lay there and gasp, trembling with the need that swept through you. You could already feel his entire cock twitching inside you, every ridge and vein pressing up into you, as though he planned to stay there and never leave. You could feel him already dripping into you every time your body pulsed around him.

So good. Varen slurred, voice half drunk. His tongue slid down your shoulder, his soft breaths coming in pants against your hypersensitive skin. So good, sweetheart. So pretty, like this. So soft.

You whined, your fingers scrabbling against the sheets. “Please, Varen,” you half-sobbed. “Please, need more. Need more of you—“

He groaned, sounding suspiciously like your name. His hips snapped up into yours, his cock dragging inside you in a way that lit your body from the inside out like sparks. The pleasure skipped down your spine, making you writhe against him as every thrust caused his finger to scrape past your clit.

Varen rolled forward a little, until he half-pinned you against the bed. One talon wrapped around your wrist next to the pillow, holding it down, while the other slid under you and cupped your breast. His claw caught against the soft silk, while every thrust he made into you made the lace catch against your nipples. His head dropped forward, his tongue leaving a trail of pale blue drool to swirl across your skin.

Pretty little thing. He cooed. Doing so good. Feel so good.

You were already at your limit. The coil inside you tightened with every word, every thrust. His hand slid down to your waist, just as he curled his talons around you and pulled your hips up a little more. The moment he angled up into that one perfect spot, you came. Stars burst behind your eyelids, tears slipping down your cheeks as you cried out his name. The dusky heat of your orgasm filled your body, until it was all you could focus on, all you could feel.

That’s it, sweetheart. Gonna take good care of you. Gotta thank you for getting all dolled up. Gonna make you feel so good.

He fucked you through the orgasm, prolonging the high, whispering soft, sweet praises. His talon wrapped around your thigh and pushed one leg up, somehow spreading you open even further. His broad body pinned you to the bed as he kept thrusting, not letting up for a moment.

Your eyelids had started to get heavy, the orgasm lulling your body into a pleasant hum of contentment as the drowsiness descended. Your breaths came soft and fast against the pillow, and Varen noticed.

‘Sokay, sweetheart. Rest. Gonna take care of you, always. Make sure you get good sleep. He promised sweetly.

You let out a sleepy sigh, eyelashes fluttering closed as you melted into the mattress. Varen’s hips stuttered for a moment as you murmured his name, and a moment later you felt him pour into you as his head landed on the pillow next to you. His soft moan spilled into your ear, his head tucking against yours. His body shuddered, pressed on top of you, and he relaxed.

“Love you,” you murmured sleepily.

Love you, sweetheart. He murmured back. Gently, he shifted until you were once more on your side, though he still stayed buried inside you and your leg cocked up. Reaching around, he gently cupped your breasts in his claws, apparently infatuated with the contrast of the soft silk and your warm skin.

Still, as you drifted off into a happy sleep, you had to admit: maybe the lingerie really had been more for you than him.

~ Bonus! ~

“Well?” Harlow already looked smug.

You tried and failed to tamp down your amused smile, then sighed in defeat. “Blue dress down, more to go,” you admitted. “I’m almost worried if I’ll survive the next one,” you half-laughed.

Harlow let out a triumphant “Ha!” Grinning, he waved his hand. “I told you, didn’t I? And let me guess, you woke up just fine, too.”

You gave him a playfully mocking bow. “Indeed your great wisdom has been useful once again, oh great and mighty Harlow. Your peasants thank you.”

He snickered, reaching over to flick your forehead. “Well you know what they say. Happy spouse, happy house, hmm?” He chuckled. “So for real though, those dirty details—“

Dream on, Harlow.”

“…. After work coffee date, then?”

“Ugh, fine.”

[lemonpeter]

🧡Day 3: S*x Work🧡

Harry has my brain right now I’m sorry lol I’m trying to think about Tony instead. I hope y’all enjoy 🧡

Warnings: Tony/Peter main focus, established Harry/Peter relationship, starker nff, s*x worker!Peter, Peter is over 18

***

Tony knew what was going on as soon as he saw the young man.

It wasn’t unusual for a host of an event to show up with someone hired. It looked good to have something pretty on your arm, and a hire was an easy fix when there wasn’t a partner in their life.

Although it did shock him to see a man on the arm of one Harry Osborn.

It was practically Harry’s coronation, a prince taking the throne of CEO. And Tony expected that he’d continue to be sucking up to his father. Doing everything just as he expected.

The looks of disdain that Norman kept throwing the two young men told Tony that he had been mistaken.

Who knew.

No matter what, the man was gorgeous. And was really good at his job.

He laughed at just the right moments, he mingled with every stuck up guest surrounding them, he gave the younger Osborn looks that could have fooled anyone into believing that they were actually in love.

Anyone but Tony, of course. He knew how it all worked.

After a while he lost track of the couple. He did some mingling of his own with business partners and former clients until the few drinks he had told him that it was time to find a restroom.

The venue was unfamiliar, so he found himself wandering down the hall and looking for signs that would lead him in the right direction.

Eventually he found a door that seemed right and he opened it before slamming it shut again. “Sorry!”

The image of that gorgeous arm candy on his knees was burned into his memory, though.

“Fuck.” He heard Harry mumble through the door. “Get up, someone’s already looking for us, Pete.”

A heavy sigh. “We’ve barely done anything. We can keep going for a minute-“

Tony was frozen, listening to them.

The door opened a moment later and he came face to face with a very flushed Osborn.

“Oh, fuck. Of course it was you.”

“I was just looking for a bathroom,” Tony blurted out. “Not looking for you.”

Harry didn’t look convinced. “Please just- don’t tell anyone. Although I know you have no reason to do me any favors.”

“Tell anyone what? Kid, I’m pretty sure that’s his job. No one cares.”

The other man stepped out, still straightening himself out. “Contrary to popular opinion, I’m not here as an escort.”

“So you’re not-“ Tony didn’t buy it. Although maybe he was just hoping for his own sake.

Knowing that the angel in front of him was out of reach just might have broken his heart. He was that attracted to him. But he just couldn’t help it.

“I am. I mean, not an escort per se...” The young man crossed his arms. “But this isn’t a job.”

Harry groaned, covering his face. “I’m pretty sure this is making it worse, Pete.”

The other man - Pete? - just looked up at Tony, cocking his head to the side. “But it doesn’t matter. Harry, we’re out tonight, we’re out. Who cares what he says to anyone?”

Tony was stuck on the previous thing. “So you are a- well, whatever you want to call it?”

“Yes. I can give you my information if you want. And I don’t need a title, just call me Peter.”

He did want. He definitely did want that. But he was still confused. “If this isn’t a job then, what-“

“We’re together.”

That definitely wasn’t what he was expecting. He might have even staggered back a bit with how surprised he was. But maybe that was just his flair for the dramatic. It really was pretty shocking, though.

“O….Kay.” He’d ask later. For now, he was sticking with the information he had. And he had to find out how to get time with gorgeous Peter.

“How much for an hour?” Tony asked.

Peter didn’t miss a beat. “A grand.” At an annoyed sound from Harry he laughed. “But I’m not available for the next few hours.”

“I’ll pay ten if you’ll be with me right now.”

The couple exchanged a look. “Half an hour,” Harry countered.

“Sure, whatever you say.” Tony grinned. “Get back out to your party. Promise I’ll return him to you in one piece.”

Peter snorted, setting a timer on his phone. “Your thirty minutes starts now. What do you have in mind?”

Harry watched them warily. He kissed Peter’s cheek, sighing. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too. It’ll be fast, don’t worry.”

Tony scoffed. “Was that an attack on my stamina? Because-“

“Thirty minutes isn’t long, Stark. That’s it.” Peter grinned. “So defensive.”

“You’re wasting my time, Osborn. Skedaddle.” Tony waved his hands.

Peter snorted, pulling him into the same room that they’d come out of.

Tony grinned at him. “Feisty. I like it.”

“Okay. Seriously, what do you want? Because we really don’t have that much time.” Peter was already reaching for Tony’s belt.

“First? I’m actually going to go find a bathroom. What I was trying to do before all this.” He felt a little bad about interrupting them, but figured that they could pick up where they left off later. And the thought that he once again pissed off an Osborn made him smile.

“K. Should I just wait here?” Peter moved his hands and leaned against the wall.

“Why would you follow me? Yes, stay here. Just a minute.” Tony opened the door again before pausing. “I still...don’t know where it is.”

“Maybe I should follow you.” Peter laughed under his breath. “You were, like, two doors off. To the left.”

“Thanks. Don’t go anywhere.”

Tony left and was back within a couple minutes, but he knew that he had very little time to waste. Half an hour wasn’t much at all.

Although he would definitely be getting Peter’s contact information for another time.

He was back in the small room where he left Peter, raising an eyebrow when he saw the younger man with his tie loose and shirt unbuttoned. “Eager?”

“Figured I wouldn’t just stand here while I waited. What, is this not what you wanted?” Peter teasingly moved his hands over his chest.

And how did he keep getting more and more perfect? The unbuttoned shirt revealed hard abs and a v that nearly made Tony drool. There needed to be statues of that body. He was halfway to thinking through the costs of such a thing when Peter’s laugh snapped him out of it.

“Down, boy.”

Tony snorted, a little surprised. “I’m not paying you to tell me to stop ogling. Remember, I’m way overpaying you for this.”

“It’s my personal time. I get to decide what’s overpaying.” Peter stepped forward, his fingers starting to unbutton Tony’s shirt. “Now. You have like…twenty three minutes left.”

“Half of what’s gone was because your boyfriend wouldn’t leave.”

“Mmm. You could have taken advantage of your time anyways. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s seen me with a client.”

Why was that so appealing to think about?

“Right. Well, first I actually want to talk. Is that okay?” Tony didn’t stop him from slowly unbuttoning his shirt anyway.

Peter nodded, confused. Everyone wanted to jump right into the good stuff, especially with such a short time. Although he never usually did less than two hours.

Maybe he was just curious as to what Tony had in mind.

“Alright. So you said you and Osborn are a thing, how long has that been going on?” He really had so many questions about that alone.

“Officially? Today’s our first time being out together. But we’re been a couple for a little over a year now. But we’ve known each other our whole lives. Grew up together and all that.” Peter made his way down Tony’s shirt as he talked, until it was hanging open.

“Huh. That’s interesting, I always assumed he was straight. Scandals with girls, yknow.” Tony slid his jacket and now-open shirt off.

The younger man nodded, hands on Tony’s hips. “Yeah, everyone assumed. But he hid it for a reason. His dad is pissed. And we knew he would be. So he just…tried to look one way. Threw everyone off.”

“Did a good job. I’ve never seen you before,” Tony commented. “I would have remembered.”

“That’s because I’m not associated with the company in any way. And the media isn’t interested in a random kid from Queens.” Peter shrugged, undoing Tony’s belt.

“Interesting.” The older man helped. “Well, I think that’s most of my questions. Can I touch you?”

Peter nodded, laughing a little. “You can. And happy to answer.” It was more than he would have answered with anyone else. He wasn’t really sure why he was so open with Stark. “What are you thinking you want me to do?”

“I wouldn’t be mad if you wanted to get on your knees for me, honey.” Another thing popped into his head as he watched him get down. “So he’s okay with this? Being in a relationship while being in sex work?”

The younger man nodded, pulling Tony’s pants down his hips and thighs. “Yeah. I think sometimes he gets a little jealous but we work it out. We talk. I assure him that he’s the only one I actually love.”

Tony licked his bottom lip, nodding. “That makes sense. Alright, now I’m done. I don’t want to talk about him any more, I just want to think about you, gorgeous. Is that okay?”

“Perfectly okay.” Peter got his boxers down and let the man’s cock rest against his cheek. “Let’s really get started….”

***

They went over the half hour.

Not by much, only a couple minutes, but still. Tony noticed. And he mentioned it. But Peter only waved him off and finished getting him off.

They straightened themselves out when they were done and Tony pulled his phone out.

“I should have done this first, but do you have some kind of account I need to send the money to? Or-“

Peter shook his head quickly, taking his phone and adding himself as a contact. “Just think of this as a…test run. I’d feel bad charging you all that for one bj.”

Tony blinked, taking his phone back when it was pressed into his hands. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Now go away, I’ll come in in a minute. We don’t need to look like we’re coming in together.” Peter pulled his own phone out and winced when he saw how swollen his lips were.

“Okay. Thank you.”

The young man shot him a small smile. “No problem.”

Tony made his way back to the ballroom, still trying to make sense of everything that happened.

He made eye contact with Harry as he came in and gave him a small nod. He didn’t know what else to do, his mind still fogged by everything.

He’d definitely be calling Peter soon.

[kumzume]

control ft. tsukishima kei

wc. 1.5k words (and it’s still ass??? a crime)

warnings. SMUT, bad writing lmao, blowjob, whiny kei, (male) masturbation, caught(??) masturbating if you squint, also abrupt ending, way too much exposition, not enough hornknee

an. writing this was like pulling teeth and it is BAD 😀 i am having a writing crisis & this is just the nail in the coffin LMAO anyways this is for @bokuhub (we talked abt it on my main blog but im so sorry ajdhks maybe i’ll write something better later <3)

kei hates feeling out of control.

it’s the reason he’s kept the same circle of friends for the past 5 years, same reason he hasn’t changed his favorite dessert order for even longer than that, and the same reason he is terrified to let you breach the wall between friends and more.

it isn’t that he doesn’t trust you—he does, with his life—but you make him feel things he’s never felt before. kei has had crushes before and he knows that this isn’t that. never in his life has he been so willing to try new things, to meet new people, to give up the control he so desperately needs and it scares him.

he’s scared to become vulnerable and open himself up to rejection or even worse, the loss of your friendship.

so, he ignores it. he pushes down his feelings of almost-but-not-fully-love for you in favor of being close to you.

the closeness, unfortunately, is also a major problem.

growing up, kei had very few friends and even fewer romantic prospects due to his callous attitude and piercing words. he’s only been kissed twice and both of those were with yamaguchi (they were thoroughly unenjoyable kisses, the both of them being 13 and never having kissed anyone else before) but he isn’t exactly ashamed of his status as an unexperienced adult virgin. it just doesn’t help his attraction to you in the slightest.

he realized early on in your “relationship” that you are very affectionate. tight hugs, forehead kisses, holding hands, and cuddling on the couch while watching movies were all normal things for you to initiate with kei on any given day. and on any given day, he would dart out of your hold with a blush on his face and a half assed excuse with a large hand covering his crotch.

he didn’t mean to get hard. it’s just, you were you, gorgeous, kind, and funny and when your soft, small hand (oh god, your hand is so much smaller than his; he wonders how it would look wrapped around his cock) finds its way in his, it’s like his body doesn’t know how to respond so it sends copious amounts of blood to his head and to his crotch.

it’s embarrassing and uncomfortable but you never seem to mind, giggling behind your hand as he darts off to fuck his fist in your bathroom for the third time this week.

this happens to be one of those times, all these thoughts clouding his mind as he stands hunched over your toilet, thrusting into the tight ring of his hand like his life depends on it. all you had done was laugh and he felt himself thicken in his boxers.

kei shakes his head, his blond strands sticking to the sweat on his forehead as he chases his high in the comfort of his hands. kei hates thinking of the way you affect him so easily, his touch-starved body craving you like an animal craves water. but he just can’t help it. thinking of you standing outside the bathroom, listening to his self pleasure and touching yourself or even better, waiting to burst in and look down on him in disgust. it’s that thought that pushes him over the edge, his whole body tensing as he paints rope after rope of cum on the porcelain seat.

kei quickly flushes the evidence of his crime down the toilet before going to wash his hands in your sink. he can hardly look at himself in the mirror, the guilt eating up his spine. is he really that desperate that he can’t hold off masturbating until he goes home? yes. the answer is yes.

he sighs and leaves the bathroom only to run right into you just outside the door. his heart rate picks up in his chest as you look him over with a sweet smile on your face, your eyes lingering on his flushed cheeks.

did you know what he had done? were you going to curse at him? kick him out? or—

“cmon kei, you were in there for forever! we need to study, stupid.” he releases the breath he didn’t know he was holding as he follows you into your bedroom, watching as you plop down on your bed and lie down on your back. your shirt rides up on your torso, giving tsukishima a good view of your soft skin and fuck, he feels himself getting hard again.

luckily, you don’t seem to notice his reaction, your eyes trained on your ceiling as a contemplative look crosses your face. “i heard you, yknow,” you say, your tone light but kei can hear an undercurrent of accusation in your words. he freezes, his golden eyes darting towards to door, calculating how much time it would take for him to bolt out the door and into his car to never see you again and—

“i didn’t mind it. your moans are pretty,” you continue, your eyes finally resting on the man in question who looks about ready to sink into the floor.

oh. oh.

kei can hardly think, let alone speak as you rise off your bed and make your way towards him, your eyes holding a glint of something he’s never seen from you before. it only takes a few strides before you’re right in front of him, gazing up into his frames through your lashes as though you’re the embarrassed one.

one of your (small) hands makes its way to hold his face and he feels like he might die, his heart is beating so fast. you give him a small sweet smile that is in direct contrast to your other hand trailing down his body to rest on his belt buckle.

if kei wasn’t hard before, he definitely is now.

you don’t move your hand from its place on his pants as your eyes focus on his bright pink face and plush bottom lip worrying in between his straight white teeth. he looks terrified and you find it in yourself to feel a little bit bad about what you’re about to do.

“kei honey?” all you get in response is a high whimper from the back of his throat and judging by the way his eyes widen and his cheeks burn even brighter, you figure that reaction wasn’t quite anticipated. you can’t help the grin that spreads across your face as your thumb reaches to pull his lip from in between his teeth, the appendage stroking over the soft, bitten skin there.

you don’t consider yourself easily surprised but when kei pulls your thumb into your mouth, sucking on it while gently laving his tongue around it, you feel your knees weaken as a wave of slick paints your underwear. “oh baby... you want me to ruin you, don’t you?”

oh fuck.

kei did want that, more than you could ever know but due to the finger in his mouth and his pounding heart, he found himself unable to answer with anything but a nearly imperceptible nod. thankfully, you saw it and are more than willing to give him what he wants.

carefully, you lead him to your bed, the hand on his belt tugging him until he’s lying back on your covers, gazing at you as though you’re the only person in the world. you feel your heart clench a little at the implications in his eyes but you quickly ignore it to focus on unbuckling his belt.

he’s hard and leaking through his boxers when you finally remove his pants, a quivering sigh leaving his mouth at the cold air hitting the dampness above his tip. when you manage to tear your eyes away from his big (holy shit, was he always that big??) cock and onto his face, the look he gives you has your clit throbbing.

“yn,” kei whines, high and breathy. “p-please touch me- ah, ah, fuck!” his words (and thoughts) are entirely cut off by the sensation of your warm, wet mouth engulfing his dick. he’s so big, you can only take him halfway but what you can’t take down your throat, you pump with your hand.

a litany of curses and moans slip from his lips as you pull up off of him to suck on the sensitive head before taking him all the way back to the hilt. one of his hands jerks to your head to grab a hold of your hair. “holy shit, i-i think i’m going to—yn-“

with only that as a warning, thick cum spills into your mouth, so much that you nearly choke before pulling off of him and stroking him through his orgasm. it takes him a moment to stop cumming, his chest heaving with the intensity of his high.

once you’re sure he’s done, you crawl up the bed until you’re lying next to kei, one of your hands finding it’s way into his hair. his eyes flutter shut at the gesture while he leans into your touch, not realizing how exhausted he is.

with a kiss to the forehead, kei falls asleep, entirely out of control and entirely in love.

[fisherrprince]

"I would also like to go off about titles in daybreak too. Lady, lord, master, foreteller…. All very made up in the moment, but if you give it to kids and say that’s how it is, they’re going to make it real"

PLEASE GO OFF

H-CCOUUUUGHH HACK HACK COUGH

OKAY SO THERE ARe there are two ways, this can go. One thing we know for sure is Ava, at least, was close with her kids, or at the very least Ephemer. He chats with her very casually. Another thing we know is the Foretellers are not consistently Around, they’re rather secluded and rare to just encounter on the street. They are also pretty much given mastery over their unions, and the kids do what they say. Lady, Master, and Foreteller mean the same thing. So, what this means is, either the titles they receive as apprentices to the Master of Masters are for all intents and purposes decorative, or they aren’t. How did I extrapolate from those two points come on a journey with me that will not explain how I got there

AUGH AND I LOST A WHOLE DRAFT HERE BUT I’LL TRY TO REPLICATE IT BEST I CAN. OKAY SO THERE ARE TWO SCENARIOS HERE and the two can mix it’s not mutually exclusive in here. Scenario 1. The titles are decorative. the foretellers know or know of basically every kid in their unions, they know their strengths and battle prowess and weaknesses and quirks. Ava is the leader, her name is Lady Ava, but it’s Lady Ava to distinguish her from Ava the 14 year old in Ursus. They lead in like… a camp counselor way. Advice, rallying, etcetcetc. Teachers. When Daybreak falls, Ephemer and the survivors build Scala out of the same basic structure. They see, though, the ruin that unions brought, so they change unions PLURAL to union SINGULAR, creating like… a monarchy, not a plutarchy. Ephemer leads the kids like Ava would. The aggregate citizens of Scala carry this on and extrapolate from it. Mastery is the highest rank, often accompanied by a title or an epithet to designate you master (think professors). So, Aqua could technically choose to be called Lady Aqua. However, Ephemer’s mastery lineage remains in power. Keyblade succession follows this rule, passed down from Master to apprentice if the Keyblade so chooses to persist. “Blueblood” is shorthand for… basically who Blaine’s keyblade has chosen to be next, avatar style.

scenario 2. The titles are given more weight. There are simply too many kids, Lord Ira cannot hope to know them all. They’re like the professors of those huge auditorium classes, or like enigmatic and mysterious leaders who give out tasks and promise rewards, increasingly against the other leaders’. Who knows where they are, or what they plan to do, but we know they’re powerful, and we know they know more than us, they’re called foretellers. My union leader taught me this — he taught me this. Thus, the kids learn to tie the titles and the masks and the knowledge and the mastery to each other in a bundle. They basically make knights’ oaths without even realizing that’s what theyre doing. When they make it to Scala, Ephemer is the only one in that spot, the only one who really truly knows everything — so whether he wants it or not, he’s getting a rank, and a title, and a statue. that’s just how they live, and Ephemer needs to give them SOME structure, or those poor kids will fall apart. It’s not bad, it’s gentle. He takes that responsibility, just like he already did once. Scala carries it on, and keeps going. In a divine souls sort of way, Lineage, not succession, is the way the ““monarch”” is chosen. Familial line becomes tied in with that whole bundle too, and the Keyblade stays in the family.

this is all. Very much heavier based on how the keyblade’s purpose is to maintain balance in the worlds. It’s such a weighty purpose. Wouldn’t it be easier to have someone shoulder that burden, and you just help then any way you can? Have one person, or a set of people, who can think about that for you? They, those who know, they have the right to direct. I think Scala started to go brrrooooo with that idea. Masters and Apprentices, yes — plenty of those. Teachers and students. All under… something. Some aggregate of things. Something tangible to be loyal to. Seekers are just masters who chose not to teach, to research instead (Scala Really is just dark academia), Masters are just professors, SOMEONE is in charge.

and thus the title system becomes a way to distinguish rank in the Literal way, not just the flippant way. Daybreak would function like we functioned playing it — missions are missions from Lord Gula. Dailies are dailies if you want to stay on top. Union rankings are important. They’re the same things, but with completely different vibes. Either the kids were going along with the war because what else would they do, or they were going along with it because what else would they do but follow yknow

if Scala extrapolates on this teaching, ostensibly made up by the Master and then carried on because they didn’t really know any other kind of societies, they can take it a more casual way or a more rigid way, basically. And I think they took it more rigidly. But Scala isnt important here actually Daybreak is as THEYRE the nexus of creating this odd new system where Everyone has this responsibility to the universe and a soul weapon and magic right. If I’m a kid promising a foreteller I will do anything to keep the light safe and collect Lux for you, Master Invi, whatever you ask of me, and she says good job, you’re a good student, there ought to be more keybearers as upright as you. What do you think that’ll do.

TO SAY NOTHING OF THE MORAL ABSOLUTISM THE FORETELLERS ARE SO FOND OF PREACHING and which MUST extend into dark road seeing as Eraqus is allowed to be Like That and Xehanort’s much more moderate take is kind of perceived as iffy. Even tho the narrative is like ( :/ hes got a point). If THEYRE right, and you my child can be wrong but if you follow you can be right too. tell me that doesn’t sound like a hotbed for the birth of paladins come on . mom wants some paladins. eraqus is just a case of deep rooted That.

anyways Um. pay me to write fake history and anthropology books about fake places but don’t actually because they will not have correct grammar