#im not even going to bother with more tagging they have too many names

[kairennart]

secret forest date?

for @merlinrarepairfest

[bitchlessdino]

okok i'm here for a request

wonwoo as your coworker who you've been having an office romance with - which you have been taking as a joke. everyone thinks you'll get together, and you play along with that. but wonwoo is very serious.

so late night booty call from coworker!wonwoo? or maybe drunk dial to wonwoo and the aftermath the next day (fucking in the office)

Pairing: wonwoo x afab!reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 3.9k

tags: office au, feturin bartender!chan and coworker!mingyu, mentions of alcohol, exhibitionism, manhandling, unprotected sex, creampie, pet name

author note: hi bee ily bee, you're messed up for this bee. but im worse for producing it gdjgwkjg. anyways enjoy wonu rot

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @wonuhour @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro

Wonwoo is a handsome guy and it was clear as day to everyone in the office. You like having a bit of his attention. He’s funny and quite friendly with you, but that is perhaps because the first time you met you had the courage to fight with him over the last jam-filled donut in the break room. Since then, there’s never not been a reason to talk as if you’ve known each other forever.

You admit some of the socializing you’ve been having with Wonwoo is more than what you do with any other coworker, let alone friend, but you were just playing along and it was too late to go back. Besides, both of you know what this is. All this talk was simply harmless flirting, playful jokes, and lively banter. You make it clear at the end of it all that there is nothing between you and Wonwoo, that things are as platonic as two subordinates can get.

You can’t say the rest of the office believes that though, seeing as so many of them with jealous glares in your direction or the nudges from the suspecting coworkers that ‘lowkey ship’ you two together as if you were some characters in television. 

“Ugh, you two make me sick. Just get together and have beautiful children already.”

You and Wonwoo shared a harmonious chuckle together, one louder in humor and it wasn’t the man dashing in a silk silver necktie.

“I wish I could, but they like to sleep on the left side even though I also sleep on the left side and I don't know how that would work,” Wonwoo knocks against your shoulder

“Not to mention he likes cats way more than dogs and the fact that we could never really be together because we’re just good coworkers.”

“Right,” he lightly punches, indicating agreement. “It’d be a really bad idea if we were actually together.”

You raise your brows, almost offended. “Woah, woah. I never said it was really bad.”

“But you were thinking about it.”

“Lover quarrel I hear?” Mingyu butts in after getting his morning joe. “They’re always at it at this time of day.”

You roll your eyes at the giant. “All I’m saying is. I and Wonwoo are good together at work. Just work. Dare I say he’s a good work husband, even if he steals the last of the pastries—“

“Will you ever let that go—“

“No—and that’s all there is everyone. Sorry to disappoint.”

The crowd gives their share of snide smirks before dispersing. Mingyu is the last to stay behind, a Cheshire smile on his face. “Sure, you two. Just keep your hands to yourself around here…if you can help it.”

You were about to throw a light kick at the man before he started scurrying off, leaving you and Wonwoo in your lonesome as always. 

“They mean no harm by the way,” Wonwoo points out, “but if it bothers you that much, I can tell them to lay off.”

“Nu-uh,” you reply, shaking your head, “and make me look like a buzzkill? I don’t mind the back and forth. Just don’t anyone get the wrong idea that our jokes are actually serious?”

“Yeah, because it’d be just awful to be caught dating someone like me.”

You groan at his choice of words. “That is not what I said. Stop putting words in my mouth. This is why we wouldn’t work together.”

Wonwoo shrugs, a smile on his face that truly does brighten up a whole room. God, no wonder people think you’re dating him. What single man smiles like that? “Alright, sweet face. Fine. Who cares what they think? We know left from right, okay?” There’s a hint in his tone that says otherwise but you decide to ignore it.

“Okay, good. Anyways, what are your plans tonight? Up for another night of Valo queue?”

“I actually have plans tonight.”

“Oh?” You say wiggling your eyebrows. “Hot date?”

“Maybe? Haven’t met them yet.”

You’re playful expression fades. “Oh, actually? Wow. You must be…excited.”

He shrugs, freshening up his mug. “It’s nice to have plans outside of binge-watching TV at home, so a little bit.”

Your smile can’t seem to reach your ears until you’ve found a way to find the humor out of it. “That sounds nice. I wanna be set up—Wonwoo don’t you have any hot friends?”

Wonwoo feigns thought, clicking his tongue, now noticing the watch on his wrist. “Well, would you look at the time? Back to work.”

You sneer at him leaving you unanswered, following after him to continue the rest of your day. This is how most days went. Outside of work, you shared your personal interests with him, such as video games—perhaps adding to the assumption that you both seem very couple forward—but otherwise, that was all. There was nothing else that made you more than people who work in close proximity together, and not by your own fault either.

Despite this dynamic, Wonwoo is a private person and you only know what he lets you know. Perhaps, that’s why you are so dead set on keeping the formality the way it is. Who knows the type of person he is behind doors?

You try not to be curious about him for the sake of your circumstance, but the thought of Wonwoo and his date stays in the back of your mind, pestering you like an insect well into the afternoon until after work. That’s when you decide to hit up the local bar, grab a drink—or 5–and catch up with your favorite bartender, Chan, to see what he’s up to. He’s normally a good distraction, seeing as he can talk circles around any subject while jumping from one to the other, and you think it starts to make you forget why ever you came in the first place.

However, ‘drunk you’ does whatever the fuck they want, even if ‘sober you’ says otherwise. You seem to forget that every time you go out, perhaps because you think you’ve overcome that part of you after a while of not drinking. Truth was you haven’t.

“Hellooo…”

The dial tone plays on the other end and you continue your incessant greeting until you’re met with a familiar and confused sound. You automatically grin, clutching the device close to your ear in hopes of hearing his voice again.

“Wonwoo…are you and you having fun…”

You hear shuffling in the background, unaware it was Wonwoo checking caller ID to make sure it was you. “Are you doing okay?”

“Me? I’m great…how are you bud? Buddy? Companion? Bestie?”

“Okay. Where are you right now?”

You chortle, glancing back at Chan who is preoccupied with other customers but watching you from the corner of his eye concerned. “Hehe, I’m with a friend. A very handsome friend…”

Chan lets out a light chuckle before finishing up the drink and handing it to the person waiting. He strolls out to you, listening in on the rest of your call as he pretends to clean up glasses.

“Handsome friend?” Wonwoo repeats.

“Very handsome.”

You aren’t sure what’s going on with you, but you feel the urge to simply narrate everything around you, making sure the man on the other line hears every word. 

“Is there a reason you’re calling me, Y/n?”

You hum against the phone in pondering. “Just…because. It’s you.”

“Me?”

“You.”

Chan lightly scoffs at the scene, almost seeing the pink in your eyes as you speak to whoever is on the other end and politely asks for your phone. You pout at him, denying him the device, but with a stern look, you melt into mush and soon obliged.

“Hi, you must be Y/n’s friend right? They’re at the Carat Club right now and it looks like they’ve had enough to drink.”

Wonwoo hums into the phone before responding back cautiously. “Are you the handsome friend?”

Chan grins hearing the hint of jealousy. “Why yes, I am.”

“You don’t sound that handsome.”

“Well, you can judge for yourself because I’m also the bartender here. If you aren’t too busy, I’d really appreciate you getting them home. I’ll keep an eye on them but I can only do that for so long with the rush we’re having.”

There’s a moment of silence on the phone that makes the young bartender think the calls have dropped until the gravelly voice on the other end begrudgingly agrees, quickly hanging up right after. 

Chan sets the phone back to your side, doing what he’s promised to do. After some time, he recognizes Wonwoo right away by his frantic arrival and the bartender waves him over. Wonwoo scans your current state with a frown creasing his eyes. He tries shaking your sides, and see how little effect it makes.

“How much have they had to drink?”

“A couple of cocktails but by how early they’ve gotten here I assume they haven’t eaten. Best to take them home before it goes right through them.”

“Thanks,” Wonwoo, picks you up by your limp arms and supports your side in the direction of the door. When he’s out of sight, he quietly curses to himself about the accuracy of the bartender’s appearance before settling you in his passenger seat.

His goal is to get you rested and safe. Seeing as your driver's license is doctored from the city several hours from where they are, he assumes it is in need of an update, and tries to pry your address out of you. To no avail, nothing useful comes out from your drunk slurred lips and he ends up taking you to his home, dumping you on his bed, and tucking you in. 

You don’t remember anything after the third drink: making that call to Wonwoo, or the debacle of trying to get you home, or his persistence in climbing up the flight of stairs in his own home with the extra body weight. You can only assume the worst when you wake up the following day in a foreign bedroom; your internal alarm was clock accurate as always. You jump from the sheets in pure fear, scanning your surroundings for an owner, when you realize you still have the clothes you wore to work the day before.

Promptly, Wonwoo walks towards the bedroom you occupy from the wide open door and greet you, a smile on his face. “Good, you’re up. Work is in an hour, I’ll get you there.” “Wonwoo, where am I?”

“My place. I would’ve taken you home if you had been more cooperative.”

It takes your eyes some adjusting but you soon realize the lack of clothing on his body, warranting the smooth, broad, and muscular appearance of a Jeon Wonwoo you wouldn’t dare dream of. You gulp at the sight taking it in before hearing him chuckle as he crosses his arms to obscure the view, forcing your eyes on his face that was bare of the thick pair of metal frames you are used to. Instead, you see his eyes, overflowing with warmth you worry you’d stumble upon seeing them. “Extra bathroom at the other end of the hall. I can lend you a shirt.”

“T-thanks.” You say before he disappears in order to get ready for another day.

You quickly finish what needed to be done, taking advantage of the oversized shirt Wonwoo left you behind and somehow making it work. Soon enough you’re off to the office, in his passenger, only time sober and a lot more self-conscious.

“Did I do or say anything weird?”

He lets out a deep, familiar chuckle. “Depends. What’s your definition of weird?”

You try thinking of an answer but none would come up, having you change your mind about getting his prompt response.

“If it’s any consolation, you didn’t get sick like I thought you would, and you were mostly asleep.”

“That just means I was a mess,” You whine.

“Perhaps, but nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“Wait, what about your date? Don’t tell me you—“

“She canceled and I had nothing going on. You called at a good time.”

“I called you?” You question him in bemusement.

“Like I said, nothing I couldn’t handle.”

His repeating that phrase does something the chemical in your brain, retracing the dents of his torso as if they’re right in front you, glistening against the sun rays peaking out of the windows. The smile on his face makes your heart pound a little harder than you’re used to, and now you’re noticing the veins on his hands as he grips the wheel.

You feel yourself swallow. Hand to heart, you pat down as if trying to manually regulate it, but ultimately fail as Wonwoo continues to speak. This must be the embarrassment talking.

“For a second, I thought you called me to confess your undying love for me or something.”

“What?” You ask laughing a little too hard, for once grasping the humor in the situation with difficulty. “Why would you think that?” 

“For one, you were drunk. It seemed likely.” He clears his throat, trying to focus on the road. “And maybe that’s what I wanted to hear.”

Those words settle into you like hot cement, frustratingly slow, and before you finally answer, you’re already back at work, following Wonwoo as you leave the car. When both obviously arrive together, the usual attention has multiplied by tenfold, and the treatment feels different than normal. More flustering a suffocating after the night you’ve had. Wonwoo is the only one to notice as he calmly escorts you to your cubicles, leaving the questions of your coworkers unanswered.

You aren't sure why they’re comments are getting you like this now, making you feel hot, hands clasped against your cheeks like a bashful child, but it bothers you throughout the day, forcing you to keep mostly to yourself. Its then Wonwoo, sends you a note, meeting him for lunch alone knowingly while everyone else planned a meal out. You hesitantly oblige to his request and when the time came around, it’s unexpectantly timid, awkward, and nerve-wracking. That’s not how monets with Wonwoo are supposed to go.

“You’ve been quiet.”

You bow you head. “Sorry.”

“Why are you being sorry?”

“I didn’t think I was bothering anyone.”

You don’t see it, but he rolls his eyes.“Well, you were bothering me. Talk to me, joke around with me, be mean to me I don’t know. The silence is annoying me.”

“...I’m sorry.”

“Apologizing again? Look at me.”

It was difficult given the predicament you’re in, but he forces you to anyways by lifting up your chin between his fingers. You watch a dark storm brew in his eyes and now you can’t bare to tear away.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong now?”

You don’t get it. For the past year, you’ve known him, there's only ever been amicable looks or gregarious smiles at a maximum, but in the deep pit of your stomach bubbles a new sensation that has finally festered enough to rise to the surface. You clench your legs in instinct, eyes fluttering back at him as you let each breath take a slow turn.

Intuitive as always, Wonwoo sees that shift in your eyes. It’s disturbing, daunting, and tempting all at once and he decides he can’t take it anymore.

With the break room wall behind you, he pushes you against it, claiming your lips and body until there is no way of escaping. His lips are soft against yours, but moves languidly and impatient, and the grip of his hands on your hips drains the energy out of your lower body. You attempt to chase his vigor, hands against your neck as you suppress your moans at how he kneads your flesh through your slacks only to press your thigh to his side.

“So I’m what’s wrong?” He asks in a low rasp against your lips.

You naturally hold him by the back of his neck, his nose nuzzling against yours. Wonwoo feels your lips part to speak, but he is in a daze by how soft they felt only seconds ago. “You are far from what’s wrong,” you finally answer.

Ridding of inhibitions and doubt, Wonwoo opens the storage closet behind you and shoves you in to lock you both inside. His hands run up your body needily, desperate to taste the skin underneath the shirt you’ve borrowed. You help him undress the same way he does to you, and your pristine pressed Van Hausens fall near your feet like rubble.

His lips then fall underneath your chin, trailing your neck, he refrains from leaving too much pressure but is almost swayed by your natural scent mixed in with his shampoo. He roughly plants you against a mostly empty shelf, the ice cold metal somehow burning your skin. He helps you tug off your slacks finding that sopping cunt that’s been dying to have him discover them since this morning.

“For me? Just for me?” He wastes no time shoving his hand down the frail fabric of your underwear and gliding his thick digits over your wet slit. “I don’t know if I can keep my hands to myself this time.”

Your voice reveals itself, saying his name in a way you wouldn’t dare let another person hear as long as you lived. He repeats the action, watching you crumble in front of him like award-winning cinema.

“I never heard you speak like that to me. I could get used to it.” He find your ear, his cat-like smile forming before his lips closes around your skin and his whispers cause the ripples of chills down your spine. “Say my name like that again for me, darling.”

You tremble under his touch, feeling his fingers dip into your heat enticingly. “Won…wooo…”

He lets out a soft and gentle moan, and the heat of his breath fans your pebbled skin. “Such a pretty little thing. I’ve dreamt how you’d be like this for me so often.”

“You…have?”

He presses a lingering kiss on your neck. “More than I can be proud of.” He curls his digits before taking light jerks, his thumb rubbing your arousal around the circumference of your clit. He drinks in your pretty pants, teeth grazing back at your skin. “You like me touching you? Aren’t I being such a good work husband?”

Your eyes screw shit, mouth etching open to give him a well-deserved praise, “So goo—“

“Where are my keys,” a voice breaks outside the door.

Wonwoo seizes his fingers from you and clamps them over your mouth, your arousal basically coating your lips and his eyes staring back at you intently.

“Where did they go anyway?”

Wonwoo shushes you with pursed lips. “Better be quiet.” His tone is stern but his actions say otherwise as his zipper comes down in a fraction of a second. “It’s in our best interest not to get caught, right?”

His name muffles under his palm, squeezing the life out of your cheeks as he exposes the bulging cock that’s been fighting away at him since he kissed you. Your eyes dart in their direction, beading perspiration across your forehead, and you feel yourself clench around nothing as his cock draws closer to your fluttering heat.

Your eyes double their size and then shrink to half the size once he’s inside you. His raw, long heat pushes into your core inch by inch, and you feel the necessary evil to bite down his palm. If Wonwoo was bothered by it, he doesn’t show it as he claims you with deep strokes, having your hands rest against his firm pectorals in reluctant trust. His low grunts can only be heard by you and the slight fog in his glasses is apparent the closer he thrust into you, even in the dim closet lighting,

Outside these walls still is a confused Mingyu, not foreseeing the event occurring behind a door mere feet away. “Maybe, they went somewhere else for lunch.”

You audibly squeak within the tight space and Wonwoo shushes you again, knocking back into with a curt but harsh slam before forcing your walls to hold his cock inside you like a natural plug. “You’re gonna get us in trouble, darling. I’m not done with you yet.” An accumulated thrill runs through your veins at the thought of being caught, taking every thrust with pressure and liquifying at the devious smile on your rumored boyfriend’s face. 

“No they’re not here,” the intruder says to a voice unheard from their distance. “…Coming!”

His footsteps noticeably scan the perimeter once last time before they retreated further and further away.

“Finally,” Wonwoo breathes out, “now I have you all to myself.” Although he states that, he doesn’t let go of your mouth, in fact, you swear his hand is getting tighter and now his face closer, finally processing the spearmint on his breath “We should still be careful. Can you be quiet for me?”

You quietly nodded, grasping at his body desperately, gesturing for him to keep going.

He scoffs. “My darling being impatient?” He pulls out almost his entire length before shoving back into you, earning a feeble tremble. “My. Cock. Making. You. Needy. Hm?”

You nod back at him, holding back your tears, nails digging into his shoulder blades.

“Eyes on me, darling. Your work husband is need of your attention while I fuck you senseless.”

Shallow breaths escape your nostrils, finally meeting his eyes, which seemed to have lost the thick barrier of his glasses somehow already set on the shelf behind him. “Would you like for me to cum in you?”

You gingerly nod.

“Will you listen to everything I say when I let go of your mouth?”

Like a glitch, you nod the same exact way.

“Such a good little darling.”

His cock fills you up as naturally as breathing does. While his lips are home against yours, tongue entangling to the point it becomes sex itself. Your hushed moans are music to his ears and bear motive as his cock plunges deeper and harder inside you. He doesn’t mind how you bit his lips, nor how your nails drag against his back, rather he revels in it, doubling over you to push his cock inside you deeper until you're unable to contain your screams and he’s forced to silence you again.

You whisper how you’re close and it’s a natural drug, encouraging him to only ram inside you and claim the sweet sound of your orgasm coating decadently around his cock. He handles it rather gentlemanly, fairly as his cock is next to ripple in climax, shooting his thick over churned honey until it fills your heat until the point of fully occupancy. His arms come around you in a firm grasp, bruising your lips until you’re imprinted with the memory of him. 

You let out light pants, awkwardly thanking his promptly done tasks before you’re whisked away again by his perfect, salvia-sheened lips. “That was very…superb.”

Strange adjective but it’s done the job, you think.

“I’m glad you think so,” he chuckles in a way that tells you things are far from over and you’re proven correct when he brings up your legs, thighs crushing his cheeks that splays the most impish smile. “But we still have 15 minutes of our lunch and a man’s gotta eat.”

Part of my 3K Follower StayCation!!!

[satzumosupremacy]

Hong Kong Incident

Male reader X Minnie

2k words

Tags: Smut

You wake up early in the afternoon with a woman sleeping beside you. In confusion, you sit up quietly, looking around your hotel room, seeing your clothes and the girl you slept with. A sudden memory—her name is Minnie—and an empty bottle of whiskey right on the nightstand. You vividly remember how it all started before the alcohol entered your system. 

You quietly lay back down, with her still sleeping. "She sleeps so beautifully" is your first impression of the day. You look at the ceiling and close your eyes, trying to remember what happened last night like a puzzle. Here’s what you remember as you try to dig up your vivid memories of yesterday while she sleeps right beside you—narrating your memories to yourself. 

———

A knocking sound comes from your door, and you go to check if it was room service. A beautiful lady with bangs is right in front of you and looks like a celebrity. 

Oh, I’m sorry, I thought this was my room. I must have read it as 438 instead of 483. I’m so sorry to bother you, sir." 

“It’s okay, ma’am.”

She rushes into the distance, embarrassed by her clumsy mistake. You find her hot and beautiful at the same time. You hesitate to get her number and decide to close the door. You check up with your colleagues back in America to see if things are going smoothly and head to the bathroom to take a shower. You come back out with a robe, putting on some shorts, until a knock is heard on your door again. 

“Oh hey, it’s you again.” You teased the unknown woman.

“May I get your number?”

You walk back in to get your phone while she holds the door open. You give her your phone number. “What’s your name?” You questioned her.

“I’m Nicha, but call me Minnie. What’s your name?”

“I’m, Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you. May I come in? You’re a handsome guy.”

"Let me get fully dressed first; be right back. I’ll need to close the door, though." She closes the door and waits. You open the door and guide her in. "I must say, you’re insanely beautiful, Minnie." 

“Thank you, let’s talk about each other. What do you do?”

“I’m a surgeon in America, I came here for a vacation.”

“Oh I’m on vacation too. You really don’t know me?”

“No, Minnie, I’m guessing you’re a celebrity?”

“I am, I’m surprised you don’t know me.”

“Im so sorry, I’m always busy with surgeries.”

“No worries, but what makes you say that I’m beautiful?”

“Your eyes.” You said straightforwardly.

“That’s cute, but I think it’s better if you see how they are in another aspect.”

“What do you mean?”

"Let’s just drink some alcohol; we can get to know each other more." She gets up and opens the fridge with alcohol. It’s a luxury hotel with many things to entertain guests. You don’t mind having a drink with Minnie, knowing you both find each other attractive. Words exchange for an hour; the alcohol is close to being empty; you’re buzzed at this point with Minnie. You found her even more attractive as she looked at you with a different glare. 

She gets closer to you as you sit on the bed. You realize she came in for a different reason. I've wanted something else ever since I saw you." She said seductively and glides her hands around your chest. You see her eyes differently—full of desire and lust. 

Your heart is pounding faster; adrenaline and testosterone rush within your body. "Minnie." 

"Shh, you won’t regret this." Minnie takes off your pants, kissing the bulge underneath your boxers. She chuckles seductively and slowly takes off your boxers, kissing the tip of your hard cock loudly with her soft lips. You can tell she’s buzzed by her rosy cheeks glowing and wraps her mouth around your cock. 

You fall back onto the bed with your legs hanging on the edge while she’s on her knees sucking you off slowly. You can feel your heart pumping faster and your blood vessels pulsing in your head as you have a migraine from all the alcohol. Minnie’s blowjob is somewhat easing your migraine, you hear her gagging, taking every inch of your cock deeper within her mouth. "Fuck, Minnie." You groaned. 

"Mhm." She gave you a reply as she keeps sucking you off and Minnie moaning louder. You close your eyes hard, catching your breath as you desperately gasp. Your cock starts to twitch, she’s getting you to your limits quickly by how intoxicated you are along with her. You unknowingly arch your back, overwhelmed by her warm mouth wrapping around your cock. She stares right at you, desperately fighting yourself because you can’t hold back anymore. Minnie doesn’t stop; she uses her hands to jerk you off with her tongue around your tip. 

"Fuck, Minnie!" You erupt in her mouth, flooding her inner cheeks with warm cum as she swallows them desperately. She slows down, sucking you off like a vacuum until you finish. You take deep breaths momentarily while Minnie undresses and crawls on top of your face. You grab her thighs, locking her in as you help yourself to her wet folds in front of you. 

"Eat me." She said quickly, and her thighs glue onto the side of your face. You kiss her inner thighs and quickly get a taste of her folds. Minnie moans as her thigh muscles latch onto your face harder. "Y/N!" She moaned your name. 

You love how she says your name with a voice like hers. As intoxicated as you are from the alcohol, you’re also intoxicated by Minnie herself. She leans on the headrest of the bed, gripping it hard as you eat her pussy, sucking up all her tasty juice. Her moans are muffled by her thighs against your ear. It wasn’t what you wanted, but you’re so addicted to tasting her folds and giving her pleasure. 

You eat her pussy passionately; she’s overwhelmed by the alcohol, and you take your time knowing you’re both intoxicated. You grab her ass; it wasn’t the biggest or the smallest, but all that matters is that she got enough meat to grip and firmly slap them. You caress her ass more, loving the way you’re getting a feel of a naked celebrity in your bed. It turns her on as you treat her body gently. She moans louder, not caring about the other guest beside your room. 

Minnie’s body tense up quickly; you got her to her limits. You eat her pussy faster, licking her clit as she starts to squirm around while you pin her thighs. Minnie covers her mouth, jerking her body hesitantly to not hurt you in any way. You slow down, letting her ride out her orgasm as you keep getting a taste of her. Minnie taps your shoulders, and you let go. She gets off, lays on top of you, and catches her breath. 

“You taste good, Minnie.”

“I’d say the same.”

You both lay quietly for several seconds while you both make out. She kisses your neck, nibbling it here and there, and you guide her closer to your lips. You get hard again, and she crawls back on her knees to put your cock inside her. Minnie inserts it in slowly, feeling every inch as it goes deeper into her walls. You and Minnie exchange groans. She places her hands on your chest, slowly grinding as you both look at each other with lust. You love how her eyes look, falling deep into oblivion as you both stare at each other. 

Minnie grinds faster and you grab her tits, gently squeezing them and giving them a few light slaps. She giggles at how much respect you show her, even if she wanted this from the start without you knowing. Her breaths became heavy, gasping for air while she starts to ride you with her hair slapping her back consistently. "Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good inside me." She groaned after. 

“You’re so tight, just what I love about you.”

“Y/N.” She moaned your name as she gasp.

“Minnie.”

You both are staring at each other as you grunt. Her mouth is opened, taking in every breath of air. Her cat eyes become so seductive, it’s dangerous enough to get you to your limits. You decide to dance with the devil, not knowing if she’s on a pill while you’re so distracted by her beautiful eyes. Her head drops down with her hair on the side. She grips hard near your collarbone; you feel her nails digging into your skin, but it’s tolerable enough. Both of you are exchanging breaths as Minnie keeps her pace. You hold onto her ass, helping her ride you. 

“Fuck, you’re so manly.”

“Anything for a beautiful woman like you, Minnie.”

She smiles shyly with her rosy cheeks as she keeps riding you. It becomes several minutes to an hour, estimating the time of her on top without a proper time to tell. She gets down closer with her tits mashed against your chest. You give her a hug and use your legs to thrust into her. You can tell she’s tired; you penetrate her walls slowly, then pick up the pace. She’s moaning erotically, saying your name often as she takes your thrust. You kiss her passionately while your thighs collide with her ass. 

You’re getting to your limit—sober enough to hear her beautiful voice clearly. She’s hugging you tightly, still moaning in your ear. You explore her toned back, caressing every part of her body as if you couldn't get enough.

“Minnie, are you on a pill?”

“No, just cum inside me, I want it. I’ll buy plan b tomorrow.”

“I don’t plan to pull out of a beauty like you either way, Minnie.”

“Fuck, that’s so hot. Do it, cum inside me.”

You kiss her hair, thrusting deep inside her harder; the room gets louder while you penetrate her walls. You start to grunt harder, and your cock pulsates, then erupts without warning. You pause deep inside her tight pussy, coating her walls as you flood her pussy with your warm cum. She groans in surprise, feeling how much you're cumming inside her as it leaks out slowly. You give Minnie a tight hug, desperately wanting all the cum to be inside her. You finish, and she kisses you on the neck and your lips. 

You let Minnie get off of you and lay beside you. "I didn’t think I'd fuck someone on this vacation." She laughed afterward. 

“I didn't either. I loved it, Minnie.”

“Let’s get some rest. It was a wild time for both of us.”

You get up, turn the lights off, open the blinds slightly, and get on the bed. She gives you a smile, and you smile back, softly laughing together afterward. Minnie inches closer to your chest and becomes fast asleep. You fall asleep several seconds later with her presence in your bed. 

———Back to present time

Minnie wakes up, remembering what happened last night. You open your eyes, meeting hers while she looks at you. “Good morning, Minnie.”

“Good morning, Y/N.”

“It was great last night.”

“It really was, thanks.”

“You should hurry and buy some plan b.”

"Oh fuck, you’re right." Minnie gets up and quickly dresses herself. You stare at her naked body for the last time. "Sorry, but I have to go." 

“It’s okay. You have my phone number.” You said humbly.

“Let me give you mine in case.”

She gives you her number, and you get up to put on your shorts with your robe, walking her out of the room and waving at each other as she heads back to her room.

[vcnillazelda]

Im imagining a k9 hybrid reader (average anime cat boy basically but dog) being assigned to ghost for training and ghost referring to him as “pup” and aaa

puppy love

simon riley x m!reader

summary: your new trainer gives you some praise

tags: not established relationship but can kind of be read as such, k9! reader, not canon compliant, pet names, collars, praise, nightmares cuddles, fluff, short but sweet

a/n: not the usual request i would do but this was too adorable to pass up

✞———————❖———————✞

your eyes are completely trained on his hand, awaiting the signal. ghost was always keeping you on edge, wanting you to learn the suddenness and abrasive nature of fighting on the field. as soon as his hand twitches your ears twitch too, ready. ‘go’. with that hand symbol, you run a lap. “good boy.” he states when you come back, you smile as his rough hand pats your head. “thank you, sir.”

“ghost. call me ghost.” he insists, walking up the chilly field and back to base. “of course.” you follow immediately. you followed ghost everywhere, having been assigned as his new k-9 unit. he’d never had one before, so this was new for both of you. “do you have any experience in the field?” he asks, and you shake your head. “no, sir- ghost.” you correct yourself, and he hums. “be ready for absolutely anything. people are harsh.” he tells you, and you falter a little; quickly falling back into step behind him. the warmth of the building makes your ears’ fur puff out, it made you a little self conscious as you lift your hands to try and flatten it. “come on.” ghost tells you, and you realise you had fallen behind, jogging to catch up.

you enter the room you share with ghost, stretching a little as he takes off his gear. “are we done with training?” you ask, voice hopeful. “for now. you’ve got a long way to go, but we’ll pick it up again tomorrow. it’s getting late.” ghost responds, and the room falls quiet. you sigh, sitting down on the bed and carefully massaging your burning thighs. running wasn’t your favourite activity by far. you preferred the climbing course you did with ghost last week. “get up.” ghost commands, and you immediately stand. “sorry, sir.” you bow your head, missing how he rolls his eyes. ghost settles into his bed, as he always did half an hour before lights out. he liked winding down before actually sleeping.

you technically didn’t have a bed yet, but simon let’s you curl up at the end of his whilst the higher ups worked on finding a spare bed for you. joining abruptly wasn’t really a good thing, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t like it here. you take your position by the bottom of his bed, back pressed to his legs as you completely still your tail, not wanting to bother ghost. it seemed, in your many hours with the other man, he liked his downtime a lot. he barely got it, and you didn’t want to disturb that. minutes tick by, and you exhale sleepily, falling asleep.

a sharp kick wakes you with a gasp as you fall off the bed. you whine in pain at the sudden thud, which seemed to have woken ghost. you sit up, watching his rapid chest heave with every breath- he’s hyperventilating. a nightmare- you were used to seeing them, you even had a few now and then, yet seeing simon ‘ghost’ riley in such a timid and vulnerable state was heartbreaking. you get up onto the bed once more, curling into his side and resting your head upon his chest. you heard that dogs help people with anxieties, and hoped it would help simon even if you were still a hybrid. slowly, simon calms, hand coming up to rest on your head, fingers combing through the fur of your ears slowly. neither of you say anything for a moment.

“thank you, sergeant.” he mutters, seemingly embarrassed about being seen in such a state. “no problem, ghost.” you reply, voice soft and gentle. you didn’t want it to seem like you were judging him. “simon.” he mutters, and you peer up at him. “it’s simon when we’re in private…” he adds on in a soft whisper. “okay, simon.” you respond, your chest ignited. his hand continues to gently stroke over and behind your ears, it’s comforting and has you almost falling asleep. remembering yourself, you dart away. “i’m sorry, sir… that was inappropriate of me.” you stammer, going to get up. simon’s hand stops you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back down to his chest. “stop it, pup. it’s fine.” he states, and you sigh. in a way, you’re very relieved that simon wasn’t upset with you.

“are you not hot..? in your mask?” you ask, fingers gently brushing over the skull print balaclava. “it’s fine.” he states, seemingly unaffected. “oh…” you respond, hoping he would catch onto your attempt at unmasking the ghost. he must of heard it all before. catching you by surprise, simon pulls his mask off, and you observe his face in the darkness, soaking in every scar, freckle and inch of skin on his visage. he was gorgeous. it was a massive leap in your relationship, and so, to try and show an equal amount of trust, you take off your collar. simon let’s out a soft laugh, pulling you close to his chest. “thank you, pup.” he mumbles, and your heart swells. “for what?”

“trusting me.” he responds, hand rubbing your back gently. “and for helping me. you’re too sweet…” he trails off, and you feel a little bad. “you shouldn’t be on this task force, nor with me. i’m a dangerous man.” he states, and you sigh. “i want to be here, with you. i was assigned to you and i’ll be by your side until i can’t be anymore.” you reply, arms squeezing him tightly. simon let’s out a soft sigh, gently caressing your face. he doesn’t say anything, in reality he can’t find the words to express how he feels, he just hopes you know it. “you’re sweet.” he mutters after a while, and you smile. “thank you, simon.” you respond, and he sighs. “get some rest, pup. you’ll need all the energy you can get for your exam tomorrow.” he states; and you nod.

“of course… goodnight, simon.” your eyes close, and you feel a very gentle kiss brush over your forehead. “goodnight, pup.” he mutters.

[tuliptired]

Ello! Hope Im not a bother, but i was hoping to make a one-shot request? I looked around and it looks like you are still taking requests as of the moment, very sorry if I missed something.

Anyways, if its not too much trouble, could you write Egon Spengler x Baker Y/N? I think that would be a fun dynamic!

If thats not to your liking, what about Egon x Shy Y/N?

Love your works, I check the ghostbusters tag daily to see if youve written anything new. Thank you so much, love ya have a great day and night!!!

How Sweet It Is (To be Loved by You)

Pairing: Egon Spengler/Baker!GN!Reader

It's never too much trouble...no idea if I've used this gif before

did yall hear about the SNL biopic btw oh my gahh...

Better formatting on Ao3! (italics)

Your relationship started with a cupcake. As the story goes, told lovingly by your now mutual friends, there was a bust at a retirement home, and one of the caregivers insisted on sending the boys home with a treat in addition to the hefty bill. Demanded, actually, practically shoving a metal tin full of pastry into Egon’s hands as he attempted to discreetly sneak away.

“Jackpot,” Peter leaned over, happily surprised as nimble fingers opened the lid. The smell of sugary sweets wafted through the car, prompting Winston to extend his hand to the backseat, palm soon full of muffin. Egon was patient, letting everyone take something for themselves, before finally deciding on a blue-iced chocolate cupcake, sweet tooth waiting to be satisfied.

“Where’d this come from?” Ray, Peter, and Winston stood in the kitchen, confused at the spread of different colored boxes and containers. Upon further inspection, they were full of even more cupcakes, each the same blue iced chocolate flavor. Egon sat with his hands folded on the countertop, unfazed at their reactions to his display like any true man of science would be.

He made a tick mark on a long list of names, clipboard somewhere in the organized, delicious chaos. “If you must know, I’m testing every bakery in the area to find the one I ate that evening. I’ve yet to find it.”

Ray shrugged, taking note of just how many locations he had procured food from. “Not the weirdest thing you’ve done for a result,” he admitted.

“Good food’ll do that to you,” Winston laughed, Peter reaching over to gauge how mad Egon would get if he tried to take a sample from one of his possible matches.

Egon didn’t look up, flipping to the next page. “Go ahead, those are the rejects. They'd end up in the trash, anyway.”

Peter peeled away the paper, going through the motions of ripping the bottom of the cake and placing it over the top of the frosting. “Rejects.” he parroted plainly. “What’re you gonna do when you find the right store? Stand in the window?”

He glared up at him above his glasses. “No, I’ll buy a half dozen and go on with my day,” he unfolded a wax lined box, “so if you could leave me to my research?” Research being, going down a line of cupcakes. They each exchanged glances, before filing out. Egon could be just as tenacious as everyone else, when he felt like it.

Except, that tenacity wavered in the face of unfamiliarity. The only reason Egon was willing to go in your bakery to begin with is because the others had forced him. “Don’t be a baby,” as Venkman had put it. He finally found the match, in fact he had found it a few days ago. But he took a glance at the bustling establishment on the day in which he set out on his own, and got cold feet. Especially when he accidentally locked eyes with the smiling artisan while he just stood in the window.

His friends had managed to shove him towards the counter without a second thought. The same person he’d seen through the tall window was behind the counter now, greeting them all kindly. The bandana you had used to keep your hair in check must’ve been failing to do its job, evident by the flour near your temple, caught in a few strands. Egon’s fingers twitched.

Peter flicked him on the lower back when he failed to respond like a typical customer, making Egon come-to and clear his throat. “May I get a half dozen chocolate?” he asked robotically.

“You may,” you grinned at his grammar, “but, chocolate what?”

Egon’s ability to speak stopped short at his misstep, unable to let out anything but unintelligible stammers, and Egon never stammers. “Cupcakes, please,” Ray spoke up for him, catching wind.  

You nodded, moving to the display rack to place his order in a smaller, blue box. Peter wasn’t content with how smoothly this interaction was going as he watched on with a bored expression. “Funny story, actually,” he caught your attention through the framework.

You laughed at how it made him look like he was in a horizontal jail cell. “Yeah?”

Peter raised Egon’s stiff arm for him at the elbow. “We walk in one night and catch Egon with at least 20 different cupcakes, trying to find yours ‘cause he missed it so much.” he regaled.

He may have caught you blushing. Were you blushing? He shouldn’t stare at business owners when they were just trying to work. “Well,” you started folding the corners of the parcel, “assuming you liked them- and you guys are pretty important to the city…” You held them out to him with two hands. “Just take them. No charge.”

Egon felt like there was smoke rising from the top of his head, or the espresso machine, as he shuffled out, and you leaned over the counter to call after him: “Come back anytime, for whatever! On the house!” 

The rest happened slowly, but surely, and you enjoyed it thoroughly. On an earlier morning, you and your pubescent employee were handling the typical rush you got around breakfast. Between prepping, a small burn from the oven, packing orders, ringing people up, and a quick trip to the corner-grocery for more milk, you finally had a spare minute to breathe, both hands pressing into the counter.

A blur of beige and a trail of smog put an end to your mini-relaxation, and you hurried over to the door. “Stantz! Spengler!” you beckoned before they could turn the corner.

Like children, they found their way to your storefront, though Egon looked rather apprehensive with a used trap dangling from his gloved fist. “Good morning, guys,” you urged them inside, “did you eat yet?”

“We really should get going.” Egon said after Ray greeted you. Most of the sickly smell from the trap was left outside, and it was too covered up by the scent of sugar and warmth that everyone but you swore clung to the bakery for you to worry about it driving away customers.

You ignored his protests, crossing behind the counter. “Eat in the morning or you’ll crash in the afternoon,” you started pouring two cups of hot coffee.

“There’s no need-” you interrupted with a hand. “We’re fine,” he continued anyway.

Ray’s stomach betrayed his friend’s wishes. “Something small wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Listen to your friend, Egon.” you warned, adding a bit of whipped cream to both cups to literally sweeten the deal. “You need to eat.”

He frowned, but you didn’t care much. “We have a Class lll in our hands, now is hardly the time for-” you cut him off again, stuffing his mouth with a blueberry danish. As he annoyedly chewed, you procured a paper bag from the back, wrapping his hand around the handle.

“Too bad I already packed for everyone,” you patted his knuckles when he acquiesced, catching sight of what was inside with a small smile. “You’re crabby when you’re hungry.”

Egon opened his mouth to respond, but the contraption in his left hand started beeping. Are they supposed to beep? You’d never seen them do so before. It seemed as if the two experts themselves hadn’t either. 

You stood on your toes to give him a parting kiss, Ray grabbing both paper cups in the meantime before you could start shooing them out. “Go, go- don’t let that thing loose in here. And swing by later, okay?”

He followed your lips when you pulled away, but the ominous beeping drove him to the door and down the street. You sighed to yourself, already missing him. None of the regulars in your store seemed to pay any mind to the local celebrities- or the weapons they had strapped to themselves, as Egon floated in and out during different parts of his day at least once a week.

Egon knocked on the glass door, soft light and music slipping through as he got your attention. When you let him in, the distinct whiff of cookies enveloped him like the warm temperature of your little shop. It was his favorite part of visiting you, apart from actually getting to see you. “How was today?” he spoke over the soft jazz that you apologetically turned down.

“Better,” you were about to run a Crisco covered hand through the front of your hair before you stopped yourself, “better.” Egon only then noticed how many cookies you had managed to make for having only closed an hour ago. “I have more in the oven,” you said from the back wall with the smaller front oven while you hurriedly took out a hot tray with a mitt and put a cool one in.

It wasn’t just cookies, but brownies, sweetbreads, and cinnamon rolls. “Are you…restocking?”

You laughed, a quarter manically and another quarter incredulously, and started to peel cooked pastry off of baking sheets. “If anything, we have too much stock.” you paused your fervor, frowning at your display case’s abundance. “I’ll send you home with some- give them to your clients or eat them or something.” 

You were barely done shutting the sliding glass when you popped up, clapping your hands once and frankly startling him. “Pies! I know what I need to make now! I’ll make some pies and maybe a cake and we can head home.” Before you could disappear into the kitchen, he stepped in your way, two soothing hands on your shoulders.

“You’re stress baking.” 

Egon couldn’t hide his amusement at your familiar despondent expression, as if you were coming down from a high. “Was it that obvious?”

“Somewhat,” he stroked up and down your arm, steering you to the stool you kept tucked away behind the register and pulling up a chair for himself on the other side. “What’s wrong?”

He enjoyed the chairs you had because of their structural variety, and the fact they didn’t make him feel like a giant. 

You slumped your head into your since-dried hands, groaning out of frustration. “It’s just the season, I guess. A ton of people come by, bringing their dumb boyfriends-” you paused, realizing what you said, “no offense.”

“None taken.”

“-And they come looking at our stuff to see if we’re good enough for, like, baby showers and weddings and all that.”

A car passed by on the street, definitely above the city’s speed limit for a business area. “I assume that’s a good thing?”

“It’s great,” you sat up, “we want people to pick us. But it means everything has to look great, and we have to get ready for half a million custom orders.”

That would be a partial reason for the sudden uptick in inventory, combined with the pressure to make a good first impression. But you were working so aimlessly hard that you looked crazed, all by yourself. “Your employees aren’t willing to help?” Egon questioned.

You stood, addressing the heaps of different cookies, the only creation of yours without a home. “They are. But they’re kids- I can’t work them that hard. It’s probably illegal, too. They won’t be around for the next couple of days anyway.”

He could sympathize with your plight- backed into a seasonal corner that business owners just had to get used to. “I’m sorry,” Egon offered, “I’m not as skilled in your trade, but is there anything I can do to make it easier?”

You smiled your first genuine smile since he arrived. “There is, actually,” your tone was excited as you moved to the freezer, “just let me finish these and I’ll fill you in.”

Egon would’ve stopped you from continuing to try to work, but he relaxed when you brought out pre-prepared bags of icing and miscellaneous confectionaries, knowing that decoration was the more relaxing aspect of the art. 

He both sat in comfortable quiet as you put all your focus into icing, piping, and arranging.  It was pleasant, knowing that you had something so ardent that you cared so deeply about, even if it was dismissed as a mere hobby while you were close to collapsing to exhaustion in the bakery you financed on your own. It was a mix of career and craft- one of the many reasons he had grown to give you his utmost respect.

You were eventually done, making the task of embellishing countless treats look effortless. You handed him a cookie, which he gladly took. “I need you to be honest,” you counted on his affinity for sweets. He took a bite, surveying the dessert after the initial pleasure your baking always brought him.

“Raspberry compote,” Egon took a second, “and coffee icing.”

“Good job!” you scribbled something down on a spare slip of paper after springing the register drawer open. “Rating?”

“10/10”

“Honest.”

“That is my honesty. But if you wanted the unweighted scale, 7/10. The two flavors balance each other very well.”

You passed him another, which he promptly ate without being asked to. “On the crumbly side. Is that intentional?”

A nod. “A little less butter than usual. Old ladies tend to like those.”

He put a hand on his chin contemplatively. “6/10- marmalade. A softer version would get a higher placement, it would be a shame to lose interest from those who don’t fit the demographic.”

You copied down what he said, seemingly happy with any sort of feedback. “And here I thought I’d have to help you cross the street.”

The night went on like that for a while, and Egon grinned to himself at the parallels he had only just noticed- another mix of career and craft, now inquiry and indulgence. You looked like a proper scientist- or, a food scientist, scrawling down notes and numbers that he’s sure only you would be able to decode. He felt the corners of his face dimple in a familiar smile while he watched you- something he’d found himself doing much, much more.

“What?” you raised an eyebrow, suspicious of his joy.

“Nothing,” Egon excused himself, “you just look incredibly nice.”

 You squeezed the hand that he rested on the counter, silently appreciative. “Thanks- for that, and for helping me out. Let me get you home before you barf.”

He’d learned to live with the indecencies, helping you tidy up the best he could without breaching the system of organization you had. When you returned from the back with your personal things, he let you loop your arm around his for the semi-short journey home.

Egon only let you go so you could lock the door, and he stared at your back for the entire time that you did. “If I were having a baby shower, I’d come here.”

There were practically stars in your eyes. “Really?” 

“Really.” You planted a gratuitous kiss to the side of his face, before setting off towards his apartment.

Over the course of a few days, your boyfriend showed up earlier in order to take you into work, and keep you company as you tried to quell the impending anxiety. When regulars faded out and new faces came in- possible clients, you assured him with a non convincing tone that he had a job, too. If your ego was bigger, you’d be bragging about the compliments and inquiries your store got, not to mention the referrals to friends regarding special upcoming events. But, entrepreneurship had taught you to be humble, so you were resigned to spilling it all over a phone call to the firehouse.

One morning, you forced Egon out before anyone could arrive, asserting that he had a day off and he should find a way to relax. He asserted that this was how he relaxed, but you had a key to the front door and he didn’t, so that solved that. 

Not long after he was gone, you were hastily punching his number in, bouncing on your heels and out of breath.

“Hello?"

“Rich girl- eloping- needs a wedding cake- lots of money,” you forced out like you were out of air, already seeing dollar signs in tandem with the minutes you were losing. “But I have a crazy favor to ask.”

Very soon, “OPEN” was flipped to “CLOSED (sorry)” and you put on your serious business apron. Egon stood behind you, unsure of what to do as you jumped from here to there, double checking that you had absolutely everything you needed.

You only stopped when you realized that he wasn’t in the proper attire. “C’mon, Spengler,” you chastised him while cinching the strings of a smock around his waist.

“Game plan,” you led him to the back where all the industrial sized equipment was, “three tiers, green and pink, white cake. She gave me creative freedom, so I’m kinda flying blind.”

Egon’s eyes were on you as you laid out a few large bowls. “Have you ever…made a wedding cake on such short notice? I assumed they take days.”

“They do! And they’re the one thing I swore to never sell!” He looked disappointed in you, but you weren’t fazed, grabbing both of his hands. “$1,500,” Egon’s eyes widen as you continued, “think of what that could buy.”

He pushed up the bridge of his glasses like a flustered schoolboy. “That’s…a lot of copper wiring.”

“So many new mixers! And without the down payment! That’s why we need to start while we already have the time.”

Realistically, it was more of you starting everything while Egon was subjected to measuring or throwing away eggshells. But, you eventually gave him bigger responsibilities, as there was no way you’d be done in time for the impromptu-wedding if you worked one-by-one. 

You turned from what you were doing after instructing him to mix the batter for the top layer, being met with his bare forearms, dress shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“What?” Egon noticed your commotion halting. “Am I overmixing?” 

You didn’t answer, still staring at his toned arms. He should help out more often- your stand mixer cutting out on you must’ve been a blessing in disguise. Your blatant ogling was cut short when he stopped his ministrations, resting the whisk against the lip of the bowl.

“Don’t get distracted.” He tried to sound condemnatory, but it was hard to feel scolded when the scholar had on one of your teenaged employee’s spare pink bibs around his front and he was almost bent over the edge of the counter space in the midst of his focus.

You could breathe a little easier when the timer went off for the tiniest layer’s completion in the biggest oven. You took the searing pan out carefully, and your worry spiked again when you saw how dark the unfrosted dessert was along the top. You went through a list of things that might’ve gone wrong-  was the oven at the right temperature? Setting? You definitely let it bake for the right time. It wasn’t until you saw a pair of little cylinders, tucked away in the havoc, that you put two and two together.

“Which one of these did you use?”

Egon looked like a mix of confused and concerned. “This one, baking soda.”

That’s how he got put out your kitchen for a considerable amount of time, until he knocked at the round window separating you both.

“Are you sorry?”

A pause. “Not anymore than I was 20 minutes ago.”

“I’m locking the door.”

He was allowed back in after a long and rehearsed apology. Soon, all tiers were baked, except for the base, and you were aching all over. The whole cake process never got any less demanding on you.

Egon must’ve seen how you stretched your arm across your chest before you tried to continue on anything. “Are you feeling okay?” 

“I’ll be fine- just sore.” you answered truthfully, before slightly jumping at the feeling of hands wrapping around your middle.

“Take a break,” he herded you to a folding chair you kept in there- the only chair. You were slotted in between his knees, thoroughly confused. He only got like this every blue moon.

It did feel great to be off your feet for a second, despite your cushy sneakers. “What’re you getting at?” 

His strong hands made work of your tense biceps. “Nothing lascivious. I just think you should save your energy for the important part,” you stifled a noise at his doctoral tone and the way his thumbs kneaded at the space in between your shoulder blades, “and you’ve been working very hard.”

“Baking makes you a freak,” you scoffed, but hedonistically let him continue to dote on you.

Soon it was time to keep moving, attractive masseuse or otherwise. You put Egon in charge of coloring the buttercream while you ran out to the store for the second time in only a few days, making a mental note to use some of the bride-to-be’s payment to keep a consistent supply of the little things.

When you returned, though, it wasn’t as you had expected. You picked up the metal bowl full of neon icing incredulously. “I said green, not snot!”

“I made green,” he didn’t budge, not seeing how gaudy this would look in the middle of a reception hall.

You pushed a finger in between his brows. “You’re such a guy,” you remarked, regardless of your own gender, as you hassled him out of the way. “Watch.” 

With a bit of red, the bright green dulled into a paler color, fit for a wedding. “Can I trust you with pink?” you asked as if he was a child.

Egon’s expression was unreadable. “No promises.”

Half of the green was shoveled into piping bags when he was finished, presenting the baby pink mixture to you like a project would be presented to a teacher. “That’s better,” you started, taking the bowl while he kept the spatula. You’d assumed that Egon was going to wash it or scrape off the excess or something, but your eyes squeezed shut as something cold and tacky hit your nose.

Frosting, pink frosting. His audacity. You took the green spatula, getting him back on the cheek. That led to him getting you back on the forehead, ear, chin, and eventually some strays ended up in the corner of your mouth, which he was more than happy to take care of. Baking really made him a freak, you thought. You probably shouldn’t be kissing over someone’s wedding memorabilia, but you shortly noticed that was the icing for each tier and its decoration. You lost an hour cleaning and starting from scratch on the buttercream, steering clear of each other in a respective corner each.

You had another hour to eat a late dinner while each tier chilled in the freezer, setting the white icing you painstakingly leveled to their surface area. When you returned, it was time for the assembly, the second most dreaded process. “I’m scared,” you confessed, just about to push down the first dowel.

Egon got eye level with the top, squinting. “You’re just about perfect.”

Your nerves got the better of you. “How can you tell?” 

“I calculated.”

He was to keep calculating until all three cakes were secure on each other, bringing on the actually grueling part: decoration. You could design anything easily, after years of practice on your skills and ability to freehand- but a wedding cake was just so intimidating. That was part of the reason you vowed to never try again, how easy failure was staring you down in the form of little white fondant flowers. Egon let you take the reins on this, disappearing from your narrow field of vision. You honed in your knowledge of swirls, mini roses, and the drape style that was still in fashion among traditional couples. You were bent in all sorts of ways to make sure every bit of sugar that left the tip of the plastic bag came out perfect, for a perfect pair of newlyweds. Or newlyweds with perfect pocketbooks.

Time got away from you when the final detail was placed, and you stepped away like it was a bomb. “Is it done? Are we done?” you looked for confirmation. “How does it look?”

Egon’s torso stopped you from running off somewhere. “It looks perfect.”

The giant thing was stowed away to wait until you were scheduled to drop it off the next morning, and a weight was taken off your chest. You let the faucet run over materials, mind somewhere else with the rush of running water.

“It’s so sweet when it’s all done,” you spoke up, scrubbing crusted batter off of a tin, “weddings feel so magical.” 

You thought back to the agreement you made with your boyfriend of a handful of years: nix a big ceremony, celebrate with friends when the time felt right. The time always felt right to you; you’d drag him to the courthouse at the drop of a hat. Perhaps there was an even right-er time out there, written somewhere in your future.

Egon wiped down all the surfaces. “I agree.” he voiced from across the counter, taking a pause. “You’re not…angry with me? For taking as long as I am?”

You laughed at that, drying your hands. You crossed over to him, a hand on his chest. “Not at all. I trust you.” He had ditched the tie at some point after you had to make a new batch of icing. “If you’re offering…”

“Give me some more time to make it special.”

You brushed away some of his hair that had come loose in the heat of your scullery. “How much more time?” your voice was soft.

Egon thought about it for a moment. “What’s 5 more years?” He laughed heartily at the groan you let out, resting his head on yours.

“Really?” your voice broke over the phone. “I’m sorry…I’ve never- I don’t know,” you forced yourself to take a shallow breath, “I’ll work on getting your deposit back.”

You didn’t know what to think or feel when you ended the call, but thoughts of wasted hours, materials, lost profit, all flooded your mind as you attempted to calm yourself. You rested your head underneath where the phone was mounted on the wall, rubbing at your temples to sedate an oncoming headache.

“What happened?” Egon asked at your back, with you again in the early morning as he scored another day off. You didn’t turn to face him, trying your best to blink back embarrassing tears.

“She canceled. We made the cake for nothing- there’s no wedding, I-” 

Egon was on a knee, in the middle of your homely bakery. Your frustration evolved into pure confusion. “What’re you-”

There was a blue, velvet box in his hands with a glinting band inside of it. Before he could get a word out, you were on the floor too, tears free flowing. “You can’t do this now,” you clutched the fabric of his pants when he moved to hold you. “I look horrible.”

His free hand dried your tears, though more would keep on appearing in their wake. “I’m sorry this is so overdue.”

Your hands gently held onto his jaw to know this was real. “When was the right time?” 

“A long, long time ago. I just needed to find a way to make it special.” He looked hesitant before continuing, “I hope you don’t mind having made your own wedding cake.”

You blinked. “You’re the worst!” you joked exasperatedly, falling with him into a hug on the floors you were happy you mopped. “That was all you?”

“Why do you suppose her down payment was a multiple of 18?”

“They didn’t.” 

“Consider it a group gift, I suppose.” Egon smiled underneath you. You sat in the giddy silence of two people, soon to be wed, when he gingerly asked the question

“Will you?”

Your boyfriend- fiancé, went through so much trouble to make the moment one you could look back on happily. Who could refuse?

“I will.”

[axvwriter]

Jaxon is a cool name but I'm possibly biased for names that sound 'sharp' and/or have like x, y, and z in them. Wait I'm totally biased for x considering my "X-Experiments". Six characters all named X basically and choose names for themselves starting with X.

Sorry I'm about to ramble but I just wanna share a bit about my process for naming characters

Not giving a character a name until you have all the details worked out actually sounds pretty smart. Bobo was originally a drawing I made of a little girl with a big hammer that loves sweets. Just a random design that I left sitting for the longest time until I decided she'd fit this princess character when I was reading some fanfiction (as I don't like to insert myself into x readers) and I misremembered the name as Bobo. The name for this random character design was Bebe. Then a few years later as I was contemplating trying out Twisted Wonderland is when I actually started to develop Bobo along with the idea of an underground mushroom kingdom.

But every now and then I feel slight anguish for choosing Bobo as her name. As not only does it feel a bit lame as a name for a princess, I can't help but think "Bobo the clown" along with the mental image of that person putting on a clown wig and makeup while looking sad. But I'm too attached to that being her name to try finding a better name.

When it comes to me picking names I have several different ways I go about it. Either a random name or a word that doesn't really exist comes to me. If I have an idea for a meaning behind the name I'll look up names that mean this word or that word but if that doesn't work then I might just look at a list of names starting with a letter that's starts the same as a meaning I wanted to get. Sometimes I just look through a list of names and their meanings for ideas. Though there are a few times where I'll take several words and mash them together to form a name. Usually just being meanings I want associated with the character, names with those meanings, or just a collection of names I like but I don't want to use any single one.

Though I think most of the time I design the visuals of the character then try to find a name, but I usually get ideas for the character while drawing them. Then there's a few times where I have the character spinning about in my head because I haven't gotten around to drawing them and sometimes just able to think of names for them since they're sitting there waiting anyway.

(Please don't ask for the fanfiction that made me think of Bobo in a princess role as 1. I don't recall the name but I think it was on Quotev? 2. I'm a bit embarrassed by it but you have to understand sometimes I look up certain fanfictions simply because I need to know if anyone has written any 'x reader' stuff for this or that character.)

Why did you choose the name Jaxon? Just because it sounded cool or a deeper reason?

-🪿

lmaoo this is going to reveal some of the horrors of my writing process but here we go!

So when I'm creating an oc they actually all start out with my name so in the beginning, Jaxon was actually Ryker. It's only until after the rest of the outline for the oc is finished (personality, backstory, role, etc.) that I finally choose a name for them. This is partially because I'm lazy, but it's also because then I get to choose a name that I think fits them well since I now have a better idea of what they're like

So when the time came that I wanted to share Jaxon on my blog, I scrolled though a list of 1,000 names until I found one I was satisfied with. I actually ended up liking the name Jaxon a lot and thought it fit him well, so that's the name I went with!

[blingblong55]

In the air- 141

Based on a request:

BLINGY LOOK https://twitter.com/david_kennedy11/status/1703563780523696558/photo/4 I CANT ANYMORE IM GOING THROUGH THE SAME PHASE I NEED THIS IN WRITING NOW KSHFALHLHFKLASHFLHAL (If it don't bother you, pls a fic of the ppl in the tweet on reacting to you buying smelling a candle that smells like them/their fav scent) --- GN!Reader, fluff, established!relationship

As your boyfriend was still on deployment, you grew to miss his scent around your room or flat more and more. Recently, you found a small business that did custom-made candles, so of course you ordered one. When it arrived, it sat pretty on a shelf in your room, candle-lit evening, you in bed and cuddled to your pillows and blankets. He walked in, ready to surprise you when he smelt himself as he approached your room. You weren't aware of his presence until you heard his boots being taken off and placed under your bed.

Soap:

The smell was known all too well, and he absolutely grinned when he noticed the label on the candle. "John MacTavish." it read.

It brought comfort, that his partner would do this because they missed him and that his scent roamed the flat when he was away.

"Yer did this for me?" His big strong arms wrap around you. A little nod from his lover sends the best butterflies to his stomach. It was the best way to flatter him.

He had to admit, he blushed really hard when you went looking for your laptop to show him the website.

It was as if he was a little boy, blushing and having this inside feeling of utter happiness

He actually made a mental note of the website/seller to order one with your scent, a small size of course for when he was away and missed you.

Gaz:

The second he wrapped his arms around you, he noticed the smell but what was more notable was the candle with a sticker of his name.

"Kyle Garrick." He looked at you and then you shyly looked away. "Love, what's this?" he picked up the candle, taking a smell and smiling.

His lover, the prettiest thing in this world, has a candle of his smell. It was cute, his blush and how he too shied away.

He didn't let go, he couldn't let go of you for an hour. He knows how much you missed him and to know it went this far to get a candle, yeah this man was over the moon.

Like Soap he too knew he must buy a candle with your scent, it would bring comfort after flying upside down helicopters or having as run-in with cartels

After all, he and you, whether any one liked it or not, would have the home you created smelling like the other.

Price:

He wasn't much for showing too many flustered faces but this? oh boy did it send him to a different world

Like Gaz, he didn't let go of you for a while, mainly because this was how he rubbed his smell on you and because as you were squished by his arms, he made sure to memorise the website/seller name.

He is the kind of man who really does take the small gestures or things that someone goes out their way for very seriously, it means more and it's far more special

"Do I really smell like that, darling?" He looks over the candle, "Johnathan Price" the label red, only very few people knew his actual name and having it displayed in this room was an honour.

Ghost:

When I tell you he felt like the most special and important person, I mean it. "Simon Riley" proudly stuck to a candle glass, a grin on his scarred face

Kisses upon kisses, "Oh my love," he said between kisses. The scent he knew best, mainly because you always told him that it was your favourite on him.

This for him was a reminder that he does and always will have someone to wait for him back home, his little love.

That night, you saw his soft side, the one that loves to overexaggerate being sick and the one who pouts and lets you baby him

And like the others, he too will have a candle order arriving with your name and the smell of his comfort place, you.

Tags: @anonymuslydumb @liyanahelena

[dantalionarchive]

Practice After School

toxic!jamil viper x fem!reader wc: 1443 tags: jamil is toxic/choking/not enough prep/cervix kissing not beta read!

hi hi hi everyone! this is something i made for fun! i had some jmeal brainrot and i needed to post it! i made this really fast so dont worry about mistakes!

the basketball court was empty. all of the basketball club members had gone back to their respective dorms for the day. except jamil. he was angrily dribbling the ball against the linoleum as you sat in on the bleachers with a frown. nrc had lost yet another game. according to jamil and his long rants, it was the fault of ace and floyd arguing over the ball and floyd gut punching someone on the opposing team. had they not had so many fouls and a sense of teamwork they wouldve had the game in the bag. It had pissed him off and you would be the one to face the consequences of his teams actions until jamil had felt better. he had stayed after school for about an hour now and the sun was starting to set. the soft swoosh of the mesh net caused you to lift your eyes from your phone as jamil continued to practice with his audience of 1. you didnt mind waiting and watching. but jamil only looked more and more frustrated with each layup and rebound.

it was time to go. at least for you. you wanted to change out of your outfit of black leggings and your oversized nrc sweatshirt and your long white socks that stuck out of your sneakers. you stood from where you sat in the bleachers, making your way down to the court where he continued to practice. his long braided bun was starting to fall loose and he was shimmering from a thin film of sweat coating his cinnamon brown skin. he was panting softly as he dribbled mindlessly. back and forth, switching from his right hand to his left. his grey eyes were locked on the mesh net and you could see his pink tongue poking out from the corner of his lips. “jamil?” you called his name, and he didnt hear you. let alone notice you. “jamil!” you snapped him out of his concentrated state and he snapped his head in your direction. his eyes scanned over you and he looked annoyed that you had called his name. “if youre tired of waiting then just go. stop acting like im holding you captive here.” he scoffed and went back to dribbling. his practice jersey had fallen untucked from his shorts. jamil was pushing himself too hard. 

you sighed and crossed your arms over your chest. “you dont have to take everything out on me. its not my fault the team lost.” you clicked your tongue and the sound of dribbling had stopped. you had his attention. 

“youre so quick to blame everyone else. but hey, if youre so perfect? carry the team next time if it bothers you so much.” you huffed with annoyance as his face began to contort with anger. jamil had no right to be such an asshole to you. even if you usually took the verbal abuse (and rarely physical) he still had no right. your eyes locked with his and you could feel your body suddenly growing heavy. “do you have to be so mouthy?” he asked you a question. jamil was using his unique magic on you again. it wasnt the first time hes used this spell on you. it wasnt that you liked it, but you did always feel extra turned on when he did. the lack of control left your thighs trembling and your cotton panties sticky. “im mouthy because youre mean to me.” you spoke honestly as you swayed back and forth. jamils eyes were scanning you over again. “undress, just the bottom half.” he commanded with an uncaring tone. why should he care about being ‘mean’ to you. he would apologize by getting you something expensive as his im sorry gift so he wouldnt have to say it himself. and you would be staying by his side as always. 

your hands were slow as you hooked your thumbs into the waistband of your black leggings and pulled them down along with your seamless, dark brown colored panties. you went to take them off along with your shoes until jamil grabbed you by your arm. “youre moving too slow.” his grip was so rough. you flinched in your hypnotized state and yelped when he tossed you to the ground. hes just in a bad mood. your heart raced as he pulled on your ankle, slipping between your legs as your bunched leggings and panties locked him in place. you sat up on your arms, watching in a daze as jamil nudged his shorts down to expose his hardened cock. long, and not too thick. it always hit your cervix, even when you cried out that he was too deep he wouldnt stop. jamil would impale you over and over with his cock until your pussy was overflowing with his pearlescent sperm and you felt that familiar soreness in your tummy. you struggled to fight back your soft moans as he rolled his hips back and forth against your throbbing pussy. the veins and the feeling of his tip rubbing against your clit made you shudder. you wanted more. but pride was preventing you from begging. “whats with that face?” jamil asked. he still sounded annoyed. you looked up at him and winced when his other hand wrapped around your throat and pinned you against the hard linoleum floor. he was so rough when he was mad. but where others saw pain you found pleasure. “im sorry jamil.” you apologized under a moan and he started to squeeze. your lungs started to burn from the lack of air and you noticed his displeasure. “no, you know you arent supposed to use my name during sex. are you an idiot?” he growled and you shook your head. 

“m’sorry master.” you whimpered as he smacked his cock against your slick opening. “sorry for what?” he growled and demanded an answer. “sorry for being mouthy.” you wheezed out as he relaxed his hand and allowed you to breathe. “very good.” he purred with another smack of his hard cock against your opening. he adjusted himself to be lined up with your entrance. with a shallow push, he had fit the tip of his cock inside. jamil was throbbing, a soft ‘fuuuck’ left his lips as you moaned with the desire for more. you wanted all of him buried inside of you. he gave your throat another sudden squeeze which pulled a strangled cry out of your mouth. jamil began to force the rest of his cock inside as your thighs shook. the lack of air. the familiar fullness. the disrespect. you enjoyed it. you always did. 

“open your mouth. stick out your tongue.” he commanded with a firm tone as you relaxed your jaw and stuck out your tongue per jamils command. he gathered up saliva in his mouth, and spat on your pink tongue. your heart was racing again as you savored the taste of his spit. when he told you to savor the taste, you were delighted to. his hips began with slow and shallow thrusts, the sound of skin against skin echoed in the empty gymnasium as he began to move deeper and deeper inside of you for that special spongy spot he loved so much. you were getting hot in your sweatshirt, but you didnt have the power to inform jamil. you allowed him to fuck you against the linoleum floor. his free hand steadying himself above you as he pounded into your tight hole, finally smacking your cervix. “so deep master…” you whined as tears pricked your eyes. over and over again he smashed the tip of his cock into your cervix where he knew he would bruise you. where he knew you would end up sore and struggling to walk. jamil fought to bite back his moans and shook his head. his braided bun finally falling loose as he hunched over you to continue drilling you with his cock. all of his anger. all of his frustration. he planned to fuck it into you. you couldnt take much more and quickly came unraveled. your legs shook from your orgasm as jamil fucked you through it. the slick coated his cock and he was able to move faster. with the stutter of his hips and the strangled threat of him on the edge of cumming, you leaned up to kiss jamil. you were rewarded with a small peck as he snapped his hips against you. falling boneless as his cock pulsated and filled you with his thick sperm. you could feel it overflowing from your hole and pooling beneath you with the mixture of your slick. 

you loved it. 

[prettyboykatsuki]

rip i hit a limit on tags i think so im continuing my thoughts on ur big rin fic in ur askbox

but like. idk. ive read ur bachira alpha fic (ill go back later and write a comment/rb it bc like. i genuinely had to sit down and sit in my feelings ab it for a solid hour after reading it) and genuinely i adore how throughout ur works ur so loving of the characters and reader insert. idk how to describe fully but it makes me want to cry whenever i read your fic bc they feel like they are written with so much love.

also isagi being a little SHIT is so peak. making fun of rin for getting a gf before him and Plotting (telling reader it'd probably be best if it was just her and rin for the day) is so fhsdofoisd.

and like. i really do resonate with the readers curiousity and love for people/life and seeing it affect rin made me SICK. like!! i want him and reader to go fruits shopping and have it be so cute bc i KNOW she would treasure the seasons and how different fruits shine at different times of the year and rin's never really thought of it besides like. for nutrition purposes and convenience . but seeing her marvel over how shiny and plump the strawberries are would make him go insane ab her own rosy cheeks and strawberry scented lip gloss andoifhsoidfhoishdfiods

they are going 2 haunt my brain forever and ever . i am not a rin girlie but i love him so so much as a character and im going to go back and read this fic and chew it like my favorite gummy flavor idk. anyways im going 2 go read all of ur other fic so i apologize in advance for the barrage of rbs/asks u will receive from me in the future that can be summarized as: (incoherent screaming sobbing throwing up) <3

WAHHHHHHH THIS ASK IS MAKING ME SMILE SO MUCH.... PLEASE... I WILL CRY AND THROW UP....

it means a lot to me that. the love i suppose comes through in my fic. not at my own expense but sometimes i do struggle with feeling like my like. emotional writing hits in the same the porn does but i do pour alot of affection into my longer work so it means a lot to me to hear...

isagi i love him to death bc he really does promote chaos at all angles for no reasons at all so he makes a great like. agent for the story. if he knew reader in alpha bachira a little bit better he would also meddle like hell in their relationship LOLLL

you're SOOOOO right also about their relationship.

the idea of rin and shoujo romance reader going to like a farmers market sort of thing makes me weep bc it is absolutely how that would go. reader would wake way earlier than usual and she'd drag rin into it and hold his hand in public and he's telling her that it's lame but in reality she doesn't even seem that bothered. reader would know all the vendors by name and when they hand her cut fruit on sticks to taste she always lets rin eat first which makes him blush like crazy. she is So excited about the strawberries but she also really likes melons and gets excited to have rin carry them.

i feel like there are many things like that in their relationship where rin doesn't think he can love her more but then. does anyhow.

IM BOTH GLAD AND SORRY THEY HAUNT U. THEY HAUNT ME TOO LIKE CRAZY. theyre probably one of my favorite fic couples like. ever in the world and are so insanely dear to me and im glad they could be dear to u too!! i hope u enjoy rifling thru the insanity of my bllk tags sdlkjfsdk

[callibones]

hello!!! 🩸🟪 again. sorry for asking so early in the morning--i know you said you timed your last poast so i would see it so i feel bad for changing my hours but i had some extra free time. in the future you don't have to time your responses if you dont wanna. i peruse your blog at least once a week or so so ill probably find things ! and i dont wanna bother you first thing, thank you SO MUCH for that injoke guide! i'm like lvl 500 autistic so i had trouble figuring them out naturally. this makes things sm easier.

second thing... you have a bill cipher fictive? that's inch resting. i think i might also be plural too but i'm kinda off and on about it. but when u said that i looked back at the post they made and it was tagged with a #👁️? and then i looked at your other posts and there's a few tagged with a #👑. and your posts are usually tagged with #callie.txt.exe. so i thought hm. so i don't make any mistakes--what's your bill cipher fictive's name? how many people are there? is callie around the majority of the time? this is probably invasive so you don't need to respond to any of this JKHJBGVFCDXRCFGVHBJKNHBGVFCDXCGHBJKNHJBGVFCDGFVHBJ. also ive definitely Won and have obtained zero shelled feelings ever absolutely.

third. I LOVED OIL AND WATER!!! thank you sm. i haven't finished reading through all the other fics you reblogged though so when i do ill send you my thoughts on all of them in a different ask. you are so Based but not in a weird way in like a cool awesome way. fourth. i.. do rlly wanna dm you but my main thing is that i kind of Lost access to my main account a bit ago? idk how i was just stupid and Forgor

so ive been slowly trying to rebuild it on this new one. problem is, it's not Done yet. i'm worried im going to dm you and it will be Incomplete and you will forever perceive me as a Flawed, Unfinished version of myself. it would simply tarnish the wonderful 🩸🟪 brand, you know?

so i think.. if i do dm you, it'll be in a little while. i'll probably create a dedicated sideblog for the occasion when i do, ok? i do wanna hear you yap in a more controlled environment.

last thing i swear. so this actually has NOTHING to do with anything else you said but im like freaking out. so i checked your youtube channel and i noticed your description.

television for a head.

this is cool and all and your sona is SO AWESOME but this also Sucks for me because this ENTIRE TIME i've been drawing you as a computer! i have so much callibones fanart of you as a fucking desktop where it's like nested so your monitor has a little desktop assistant that is also you and it goes on forever and ever and ever with even smaller callies and that idea was WRONG!! i shouldve known from the antennae but i thought that was a bug thing not a tv thing (which, by the way, excellent choice on your part. when i'm not an assembly of shapes, i do enjoy being an insect.) but i was a FOOL!!!

so this makes me realize hey wait what else am i getting wrong? this thing is colored differently in this image than all the other images. what's the correct thing to do? and i came to the conclusion that i need to just ASK YOU! (wow who could've guessed. you're so smart.) yeah! i am! the smartest in the whole world even

if you happen to have any, i need reference sheets of your sona. if you have reference sheets of the alternate variants (or are those headmates? i saw one was called calliope and i think there was a bill cipher one so is that the fictive? i don't know but i want to draw them) those would be appreciated too. i have made a grave error and i must resolve it immediately.

with that. um. thank you for humoring me, id like to thank all our sponsors for getting me to write this ask, i will join the discord servers and message you one day because i am Not Afraid of Anything in the Whole Wide World. toodles

HELLO 🩸🟪! hope i didnt keep you waiting too long.... wanted to finish my ref first! PLUS i got a whoooole buncha busy goin on so im SUPER occupied.... but now i got time just for YOU! i definitely didnt time this one im just postin it now that i Can.... but im sure you can use the tag and your weekly browsing skills to find your way back here. hehehehe.

SECOND: very observant! yes, while we haven't made an official post for it, calliope uses the crown emoji and calcifer uses the eye emoji! that's his name, by the way. in fact, here's the whole gang, labeled with NAMES & PRONOUNS!

("who the fuck" is me, sorry. hehehehe.) (putting the id on this one out here so its easier. from left to right, you got:

the commissariat (she/they) in red, in a fancy longcoat with a jacket makin a serious pose

me, callie (it/fae/she) in green, in my usual "have a rotten day" top that shows my bra a lil and my short skirt

calliope (she/thon) in purple, wearing thons over-the-top storm supervillain dress

calcifer (he/she/it/they and it insisted on including "calcifae/calcifaer" as well) in yellow, with a suit, a shorter skirt than mine, a sword, and the bill cipher triangle-eye pose

and callyris (she/it) in pink, with short-shorts and a crop top fully showin its maintenance panel.

i'm around the majority of the time, but there's five of us includin' me and Calcifer! he's more than just bill cipher, btw. he's he/him lesbian bill cipher! hehehehe. he's also like genuinely growing as a person and i'm REALLY proud of him. also it's okay i have shelled one feelings too. calcifer says you're probably pretty easy to take advantage of and should call her.

THIRD: YAY! cedardivine, who made that peanutiel story, JUST made a separate post the other day with all thons blaseball writing. so GO CHECK THAT OUT! i sure plan to. :-D

FOURTH: cmon you dont gotta brand. EVERYONES flawed and unfinished! including me! im fucked upppp dont put me on a pedestal. im incomplete too!!!!

FIFTH HERES MY REF!!!! i made it just for you (genuinely!) so you GOTTA show me your fanart now because omg? omg???? omg???????? you made fanart of me? sobbing and crying??

also youre KINDA right about the desktop assistant thing! i fuckin love the nestedness so much and theres definitely some stuff where i imply that! but thats because.... so the actual sona is a desktop assistant virus thing. but fae takes on the appearance of a tv-head bot! so when fae's in The Real World fae uses a Made Physical version of that same cartoony self to walk around in. and on that robot's an OS running... the actual desktop assistant! so while it's not infinitely nested, you're right that my reality is Layered. i wonder if it could go deeper than that....

theres not a lotta art of the others YET but heres SOME FUCKIN AWESOME ART MY WONDERFUL FRIEND OF RIGORMARCY DREW OF THON so lookat that.

and here's calcifer's never-before-posted discord pfp, just for you:

calcifer sez: THERE'S MY CARD! GIMME A RING IF YOU'RE LOOKING FOR A NEW DEITY TO CHAT UP. THE SHELLED ONE MAY BE DEAD, BUT I'M AROUND FOREVER! FOREVER.

so. do what you will with this information.

IN CONCLUSION please send me your fanart if you wanna and feel like it because thats SO AWESOME that you made some... literally misty eyed.... ill look forward to your next correspondence whether i know you as 🩸🟪 or as whatever your name is on whatever platform you wanna reach me with! feel free to shoot me a friend request on discord if tumblr aint workin for ya. tell em 🩸🟪 sent ya! because that's you. and you can send you. But not in the mail, unfortunately. 1984.

UNTIL NEXT TIME GOOBY!!!!

[calsvoid]

writing meme: about me

i got tagged by @lusthurts so thank you for that <3

1. How did you get into writing fanfiction?

ive been into writing for years before i got into fanfiction specifically so i guess just from reading fanfiction i guess, but if you want a longer story, i got more interested in writing from roleplaying on amino and got into fanfiction because the fandom i was in at the time got OBSESSED with this one popular work and i just HAD to check it out

2. How many fandoms have you written in?

officially, my ao3 account only has glee works rn but i do have a 911 fic im working on and i do want to venture into more fandoms, but i don’t really have the confidence to do so yet

3. How many years have you been writing fanfiction?

i’ve been trying since 2020 to be more of a fanfic writer but never actually got anything solid until 2023 so 1-4 years depending on how you see it

4. Do you read or write more fanfiction?

definitely read im a slowass writer and part of that is because im too busy reading fanfiction instead of writing

5. What is one way you've improved as a writer?

overall in the years i’ve been a writer, i feel like i’m better at portraying characters as well rounded and creating characters that aren’t just one stereotype. when it comes to my time as a fanfic writer, im better at writing actual scenes rather than just random narration

6. What's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

the probability of survival when falling from certain heights. also ohio the glee writers were cruel for making their show based in fucking ohio of all places

7. What's your favorite type of comment to receive on your work?

i’m honestly not picky i love all types of comments, but if i really had to choose, it’d probably be any that point out a specific part or line or whatever in my writing. it makes me so happy when people have some detail stick with them

8. What's the most fringe trope/topic you write about?

i honestly haven’t done anything too intense in my writing i think the most out there i’ve gotten is just emotional infidelity and that’s just standard for seblaine. i do plan on killing blaine in one wip of mine, but it’s just an idea for now because i’ve got other shit to focus on

9. What is the hardest type of story for you to write?

longer stories are literally impossible for me. i absolutely SUCK at writing anything longer than a couple thousand words and even that is hard for me. smut is also hard but that’s because i haven’t bothered to write smut, so different vibes

10. What is the easiest type?

well if you see how many hurt no comfort fics i’ve published it’s obvious fluff is what i’m best at. but yeah short vignette angsty stories are super easy for me to write. it’s just 50% projection and 50% exaggeration and 100% gay, so no problem there

11. Where do you do your writing? What platform? When?

i often write at home, on my notes app, at any point of the day, and i post all my stuff on ao3. i will sometimes edit on my laptop on google docs, but i get lazy too and so my latest fics have been mostly raw and unedited.

12. What is something you've been too nervous/intimidated to write, but would love to write one day?

smut and literally any ship that isn’t seblaine and also longer works. i’d love to be one of those writers who comes out with these multi chapter masterpieces but i’m just not right now. i’ve had ideas for other ships too, but i never really flesh them out because they’re usually stuff that would span across thousands of words and i don’t have the time, energy, nor skill level to do that yet. and again, for smut, i just never bother, and while i think im never going to be the explicit sex scenes type of writer, i love the angst potential of it

13. What made you choose your username?

acedisgrace is a name i’m like 85% sure i saw a joke about from a stolen tumblr post on instagram and i was like hey im asexual and a disappointment haha what if i change my discord name to that and then eventually when i got an ao3 account, i just went with it because i saw it was available there too. as for calsvoid, they’re my initials and i spew whatever bullshit i want on tumblr and also i wish i didn’t have a body and instead was an amorphous blob of nothingness

i don’t really know who to tag that i haven’t already seen tag so anyone who would like to do this can

[grimalkinmessor]

OKAY OKAY FINE (its ecto smiley face)

Maybe Garden Care horror/smut Tea OR

L/Light fluff sweets bc im a sucker for that

@ectoplasmicsoda YEESSS *rubs my grubby lil paws together*

Decided to go with Garden Care because I've never written them before 👀 HISTORICAL AU ✨ SORTA ✨ Warnings in the tags!

Garden Care/Horror-Smut/Tea

———

There's a leaf in Morgana's tea.

Normally, they wouldn't find this particularly odd, given that tea is generally made of leaves, but this is not a tea leaf. It's a whole leaf, bright red with lingering bits of green along the veins, and it's big enough that it nearly covers the entire surface of their tea cup.

Again, Morgana would not usually find this strange; they have tracked in many a stray leaf throughout their life, attached to their sweaters or stuck to the bottom of their boots. It's hard not to find leaves and petals in odd places when Morgana shares their mother's love for plants and keeps a few in almost every room of the house.

But they find this one—this particular leaf—odd for a couple of reasons. The first being that this is not the first time, or even the third time that a leaf like this has ended up in their tea cup. Whenever Morgana makes tea, they always make sure the cup is clean first, and yet somehow for the past few months they've always found a stray leaf (bright red with lacey green veins) floating in their cup a few sips in. The second thing is that, despite how much Morgana wishes it was, it is not autumn. A clearly autumnal leaf in their tea when all the trees around them are lush and green is yet another oddity.

The third thing—and the most damning of all—is that this leaf is not from any plant that Morgana recognizes.

Morgana knows plants. They know the name of every flower under the sun, and even some that thrive in shadow. The fact that they don't recognize what tree this leaf is from bothers them. Their mother loves botany—they live in the damn woods. They have books upon books upon books on every plant known to man, and—due to Sam Manson's hidden witchcraft tomes—even some that aren't.

They are more irked by the fact that these leaves are unidentifiable to them than the fact that the leaves are appearing at all. Which, Morgana supposes, is a rather backwards list of priorities. But still! They can't stand not knowing.

Morgana asks their mom first, but she also has no idea what it could be either. And when Morgana takes it to their neighbor, Desiree (who is like a second mother to them, considering how often she's over at the Manson house and how close she and Morgana's mom are), she stares at it for a long, long moment before smiling and telling Morgana that she has absolutely no idea where it could've come from.

It's an obvious lie, and Morgana is all the more suspicious for it—as well as hurt, too. Desiree treats Morgana as her own child; she's never lied to them before.

The only option left is for Morgana to figure it out on their own.

Sneaking out one of their mom's spellbooks from beneath the floorboards of their home, Morgana grabs the leaf that had appeared in their tea cup this morning (crimson as blood, split with green) and ventures out of the house and further into the woods. Only when they're out of sight of both their own home and Desiree's do they settle down at the base of a tree. Morgana flips through the spellbook, searching for a certain page, and smiles when they find the one they're looking for.

A tracking spell.

Closing their eyes, Morgana cups their hands around the leaf and whispers out the spell. Their voice is soft, but the wind picks up around them, swirling through their oddly colored hair and whistling between the trees surrounding them. Morgana feels magic spark in their palms, a small flush of energy leaving them, and they open their eyes again to see a thin, wispy trail of blue light spiraling off into the woods.

Shock jolts through Morgana—some part of them was still convinced they were simply being paranoid—and then a bolt of excitement mixed with fear. Because this means they were right. Something is putting mysterious leaves in their tea on purpose.

Scrambling to their feet, Morgana takes off after the trail before it fades. They follow the blue mist through the forest at a run, easily leaping over stray tree roots and rocks; Morgana knows these woods well. But even then, their mother only ever let them stray so far. Soon, the amount of trees they recognize trickles down...and runs out.

Morgana knows they're not headed in the direction of the village proper—they're headed further from it, if anything. The trees begin to clump closer together the farther they go, trunks thickening and foliage beginning to blot out the mottled sunlight. The smell of wet peat and soil, moss and herbs, grows stronger with every step. Morgana runs, but the ist of their spell is starting to fade. With a curdle of dread in their stomach, they realize that they won't be able to follow it back home. Morgana shakes their head, sucking in a sharp, painful breath as their lungs burn and their legs ache. They have to keep going. Their curiosity will drive them mad if they don't.

Then, just before the mist fades completely, Morgana finds its end.

The trees are so close together now that Morgana has to go slower in order not to run into them. It's quiet here. Near silent. They stumble into a small gap in the trees, and blink.

There, amongst the gritty tree bark and thick brown coat of dead leaves, a small table sits in the center of the trees, which—now that Morgana is looking, they're uneasy to find form a perfect circle around it. It's a nice table, ornate, white marble and silver, but it's weathered and dulled, bits of moss scattered all across it. There's a single matching velvet chair in a similar state, pulled slightly back from the table, like someone stood up in a hurry and left. But the dirt and leaves around it are void of footprints, and the grime covering both pieces of furniture is untouched. No one has been here in a very long time.

The worst part, however, is the innocuous little tea cup sitting in the center of the table.

The saucer and the cup are deep blue china with gold glimmering on the rims, pristine and shining in a way that contrasts the furniture around it. Morgana swallows and takes a step forward to see that the tea cup isn't empty. A pale pink liquid sits inside, like rose tea with too much milk. As Morgana stares down at it, the familiar smell of their favorite tea floats to their nose, beckoning them forward.

'There is something...wrong here,' Morgana thinks as they take another, slow step forward. 'Very wrong...'

Sam has told them stories before, of children getting stolen away by fairies and crones and many other hungry creatures—but Morgana isn't a child anymore. They should be wary, yes, but it's...so hard to think of those stories when the sight, the smell, the mystery before them...is so enrapturing.

Then, from above, a deep crimson leaf drifts down from the canopy and lands neatly—suspiciously precisely—in the tea cup. The warm, decadent smell grows stronger.

In a trance, Morgana takes that last step forward and reaches for the tea, curling their hands around it and lifting it to their mouth. They know, vaguely, to be alarmed. They should put it down. Morgana has never finished their tea once they discovered the leaf inside. This is an unknown. This is dangerous.

Morgana blinks, hesitates—and yet still drinks.

Their eyes flutter shut, sweet ambrosia washing over their tongue that sets their every nerve alight, a sensation like wind and static racing through them. Morgana moans appreciatively into the gold rim, tipping their head back further. It feels, simultaneously, like drinking ice cold water on a summer's day and sipping from a mug of spiced chocolate as they watch the snow fall. It feels like running their hands along the softest flower petals, like basking under the sun, like admiring the stars. It feels like bathing outside in the spring, every flower turned to face Morgana as they run their palms over their skin, slick and warm with the sun.

Morgana empties the cup and whines when the sensation stops. The pretty leaf butts up against their lips, and the draw it in, desperate for more. It dissolves like lacewing in their mouth, cinnamon on their tongue.

Heat bolts through Morgana in a sudden wave. It's so strong that it makes their knees weak, and they nearly collapse where they stand, one hand shooting out to balance themself on the mossy marble table.

Around them, the forest darkens.

Morgana heaves in a breath, vision swimming, as the sunlight blots out completely. They gasp as the ground beneath them begins to shake, like the roots of the trees surrounding them are writhing underneath the dirt. The beautiful tea cup gets jostled from their hand and is promptly swallowed by the jittering mass of leaves and dirt beneath Morgana's feet.

With a sound like cracking thunder, a thick green vine shoots up out of the ground, whipping towards Morgana at such speeds that they don't have time to dodge. Several more follow, ripping up out of the forest floor to lash around Morgana's arms, legs, waist, lifting them abruptly into the air. They yelp, stomach twisting, but their struggles are weak. Their head is... They're so dizzy...

And, Morgana realizes with mounting horror as the vines around them grow thorns, tearing through their clothes until they're nothing but tatters—so wet.

Morgana is ungodly, inconceivably aroused.

A hand strikes up through the dirt, followed by a shoulder and the massive torso of something fibrous and herbal, thorned flowers growing down what looks to be thick vines of hair. Glowing sea green eyes fix on Morgana, and a long, green tongue slithers out of a grinning, fanged mouth. Morgana's head falls back, eyes wide and jaw dropped, as that tongue slicks up their bared thigh and licks right up their core, dragging up their stomach and chest and ending at their throat.

A soft, unearthly rumble of pleasure vibrates through the air. "My lovely Morning Glory, you've returned to me."

"Wh—wh-at...?" Morgana shudders out, pupils blown. Their glasses are askew on their face, more naked than not, terrified and trembling and so wet it's dripping down their leg. "What are—who—?"

They're cut off by the hulking monster slicking its tongue up against them again, this time focusing solely on the space between their legs. Morgana bites their lip so hard it bleeds, cheeks bleeding red as they muffle their moan into a deep grunt.

"Oh, you've grown into yourself so beautifully, darling," the thing purrs as it pulls back. Morgana shakes, hands fisting and toes curling as a separate vine slithers up their leg and begins to rub at them in place of the monster's tongue. Morgana gasps as the tapered tip pushes in, wriggling its way into their cunt and coating itself in their slick. It burns, it almost hurts, but its also the best thing Morgana's ever felt. They rock their hips into the intrusion, unable to help themself as their head tips back, wild eyes hazily glimpsing the reddened, black canopy above. Above Morgana, the monster purrs. "Look at you, taking it so well. I knew you would be perfect—I knew you would be mine."

Morgana can't—they can't think beyond the pleasure coursing through their body right now, every little twitch and shift making a new part of them light up with ecstasy. The creature's words are nothing but nonsense to their ears, the buzzing feeling of those glowing eyes hungrily roving over their body only serving to send Morgana that much closer to the edge.

Deep green vines slide over bronze skin, touching and stroking and thrusting, all while Morgana moans and pants into the humid air between them. They can feel the pressure—the pleasure—building in their gut, a tingly sensation sparking up in their feet and the backs of their thighs as it mounts higher and higher. Through the heavy fog, Morgana feels trepidation. There's the vague, alarmed thought that this feels too big, that this will kill them, that this will swallow them whole—

And then it crashes over them, striking lightning through their veins and making their whole body seize in place, a strangled shriek ripping out of their mouth as involuntary tears bead at the corner of their eyes. Morgana's vision goes white, the nirvana of this one, singular feeling razing through their bones and buzzing in their teeth. And through it all, the vines' movements don't cease, stringing Morgana along through the strongest orgasm they've ever had in their life.

A heavy clawed hand pushes through their hair, petting them gently as they whine and twitch with aftershocks. "Easy, darling. Wasn't that a warm welcome?"

Morgana can't see, their vision still dotted with spots of white. But their head....their head is clearing. Morgana lifts their head with a great amount of effort, managing to stammer out a weak, "W-who...are you?"

'What are you?' Morgana wants to ask, but they bite their tongue.

The monster smirks, rising up to its full height and taking Morgana with it (him...?). The flowers blooming from its draping locs wither and twist before blossoming into lavender roses and rainflowers.

"I am Undergrowth, little Morning Glory, Fae King of the Woods," it—he, responds. He presses a hand over his chest, bowing until his face hovers just above Morgana, sealing them in a curtain of vines. "And you are mine."

The vines around Morgana tighten then, possessive and warning. Morgana swallows hard, too weak right then to even struggle.

They were foolish. They should've listened when Desiree told them to leave it alone. Because now?

Now they don't have a choice.

[notmonsters]

RESPOND TO THE FOLLOWING PROMPTS OOC , THEN TAG OTHERS YOU WANT TO GET TO KNOW BETTER.

roleplayer name: Taea 💛

roleplayer pronouns: she / her 💛

muse name: Zack Fair 💛

preferred communication: Tumblr ims or Discord 💛

experience: Oh goodness , what year is this ?? I've been on tumblr since 2012 , which is hard to believe . I still have my first ever blog and every now and again still write on it ! So , if you're ever curious let me know . I've been roleplaying since 2009 / 2010 .

preferred roleplay type: Paras / novella . Here's the deal , I always tell myself to keep it short . . . and then short becomes like 6 paragraphs . So , that's that . I think the only things I've managed to keep short are texting threads [ [ mostly on wire ] ] , and crack threads on the dash . . . and even then , those always seem to get serious for me .

pet peeves & dealbreakers: I tend to give people a lot chances and wiggle room when it comes to this . I'm pretty patient with a lot of things , too . If I had to pick two things , it's being ghosted you thought someone was your friend , and I would say too many NSFW / NSFT images on the dash . On the first point , I love making friends . I have made dozens of friends over my decade on this website and I cherish each and every one of them fully . I understand life gets in the way -- hell , I work a full time job that drains my battery 95% of the time , so I get it . When people you thought were your friends just . . . stop talking to you out of the blue for no reason but keep talking to other people ?? That hurts , and it makes you question if you were ever actually friends to begin with . Again , if you give lil' updates or check in , that's one thing . . . when someone just drops you completely but not others , that's another thing . Unfortunately , I know a lot of us have been through this , and it sucks .

On to the next point : NSFW /NSFT writing is fine , because it is always [ [ at least with my mutuals ] ] under a read more and tagged or moved to discord , so I can just not read it . I also write spicy threads , so that doesn't bother me either -- everyone loves some spicy threads . Images . . . Images are harder . They're harder to tag filter , tag filtering doesn't always work or it breaks . Personally , I like to enjoy my mutuals' blogs in their entirety [ [ when at work or at home ] ] , and if I have to tag filter half of someone's blog then I don't actually get to enjoy their blog . Full transparency , if we're mutuals and your blog is too many NSFW / NSFT images to the point that it makes me uncomfortable , I'm just going to unfollow you [ [ even if we are friends ] ] . I don't police people's blog , that's not my job . This is a hobby not a jobby , and I'm just here to have fun . So , I'd rather do what makes me feel safe and makes my dash a safe space for me than not .

Alright , lil' rants are over . Back to fun things !

plots or memes: Both ! Oh my goodness both ! I love random asks in my inbox that don't belong to a meme , I love memes , I love loose plots [ [ mostly because muses are not predictable , so a strict plot is a lil' hard to follow and I have ADHD so it's hard for me to stick to a strict cookie - cutter plot ] ] . I love 'Hey , Taea , I had this idea , do you wanna do it ??' . I'm real open to all of those things ! 💛

best time to write: I'd have to say mornings . Mornings and early afternoons tend to be when I am the most productive . If I don't have work the next morning , I'll write all day long until about midnight across my multitude of blogs . If Tumblr is just too much for me , because sometimes it is , I'll write on Discord all day long .

are you like your muse?: I would love to say no to this question , but I don't adopt muses I'm not like in at least a handful of ways . Zack's my sunshine boy with trauma , he's delightful and playful and fun and I just adore him 💛

tagged by : @strifiisms [ [ thank you , lovely ! ] ]

tagging : @warofthebeasts , @phantasiiae , @holyguardian , @nerdynanny , @synshubblog , @nineinchnails , @gravitasfatum , @lockedfighter && you !

[binalakai-archive]

hey im kai! you can also call me roach, if you already know a kai in your life because i know how many noncis mfs are named that

im a genderfluid filipino dyke (born 2002, figure it out) with she/he/it pronouns, i occasionally post my art on @binalakarchive , where all my OCs (at least as much as i show publicly) and fandom art/cleaned up discussions go there. i also do commissions sometimes, best to contact me through that blog!! my current OC blog currently resides at @huemanonearth, it's a project i've had for a while and i hope to one day make a personal-use pitch bible with it! i treat this blog like a neverending journal. i've grown up with it, and on god am i going to use it as such.

in a perfect world where i wouldn't need to establish boundaries, i would not even bother with a post like this, but the more people i follow/that follow me come across it's somewhat necessary soooo

DNI or like. BYF if you're not gonna listen to me anyway: (warning: it's long and text heavy. tldr; don't be weird to me, communicate with me like you would with a real life person because that's what i am, and we'll get along fine)

-basic dni huge bigot (racist, TERF/transphobic, homophobic, etc etc) stuff but if i catch that onto your blog anyway when you follow me i'll block you.

-if you believe in crab-bucket-mentality/are against mental health care in general, you best keep distance, honestly. its taken a long time for me to not open my wounds and delusions constantly towards the internet if it meant being valid in my mental illnesses. i'd rather not enter that era again.

-i dont get the whole "proship and antis" culture that happens, but for both sakes of people, if you identify with any of those things you might not like my blog too much. i love being critical and analytical of "problematic things", but i'll still discuss them openly n freely. dni if you'll be offended if i diss on ships/approaches to subjects that make me uncomfortable n find comfort in being critical abt it, and dni if you'll be offended if i diss on the idea that media with triggering topics should not have an outlet period.

-if you'll be offended if i block you out of the blue, doesn't apply to close friends/mutuals i just mean with randos who post takes i dont like or cause too much stress in tags i browse.

-if you're gonna get in huge trouble over seeing dirty jokes and crass humor in public you best not follow me. i try best to tag my stuff, but last thing i wanna do is have a stern talk about it.....which is why i also am wary about people under 18 following and will be a lot more liberal on blocking younger minors for their sake or people i assume won't vibe with me period

-if your parents have access to your social media and there's a chance i'll be DM'd by any of them. i dont wanna talk to any of your parents. if you have an issue with me, i'm more than happy to talk about things directly. (ESPECIALLY FOR BUSINESS RELATED REASONS LIKE COMMISSIONS. IT'S HAPPENED A LOT ALREADY DUE TO OTHER PARTY'S FAMILY CIRCUMSTANCES I CANNOT FUCKING CONTROL. STOP IT. ITS ANNOYING AND A PAIN TO HANDLE.)

-if you get too involved with online drama/disputes. i'm not going to reblog a callout for you. if you get even slightly bothered by that statement, do not get close to me period for the sake of boosting callouts.

-if you have specific niche triggers that need to be tagged. i try to do catch alls or basic ones, but i genuinely CANNOT keep track of all my mutual's blacklists. my mind will slip and id rather not put someone in danger/i wanna keep that risk very very low

okay thankies <3 sorry these are so specific, i just wanna be insane on the internet in the safest way possible

[spectra-bear]

Now that we're entering into 2024, I'm asking some artists and writers that I follow:

1) What is the one piece you're most proud of from this past year?

2) What are some pieces that you would have liked more people to see? If you can include links, I'd love to go check them out!

3) What were your top three favorite pieces (art, comics, fics, etc) that someone else has made this past year?

(As always, no pressure to respond! Feel free to just ignore, or let me know if you'd rather I not send you these kinds of asks in the future.)

1) i cant really choose a favorite piece, if i had to choose it would be a 3 part comic i havent posted yet because its based on a friend's writing, and its one one of my top favorite pieces, but the few above are among the few rendered pieces i like. also im a bigger fan of my animated work than artwork, but i should try to finish pieces more often

2) i dont think i bother with how much traction my artwork receives, i usually just throw stuff out there and leave, if i ever do check, i read tags and that’s about it, if i find even a single positive tag about how much they enjoy my post, its a good enough win for me

3) unfair question!!! i have too many favorite pieces, id be here all day and thats still not enough!!

there are numerous works across platforms that id like to fill into one list but, that being said, here are the few i can name from the top of my head:

kat, one of the friendliest and motivating artists ive encountered, after reading their main comic storyline replica that all i coukd ask for in a post apocalyptic story

https://www.tumblr.com/kathaynesart/700778336271679488/tip-jar-every-little-bit-is-appreciated-r-e-p-l

most of ingunn's work i love, but im a big fan of her comics

https://www.tumblr.com/thegunnsara/716508523672010752

ill never get over fuzz's pieces, nor will i ever get tired of rereading his comkc amongst many others i have archived

https://www.tumblr.com/r0b0t1me/706923481985662976

tapa and cass are two peas in a pod, amazing creations made at a speedy pace, i wish to match up with someday, both of their main ongoing bad future rottmnt comics are fun to check every now and then, not to mention their animated work

https://www.tumblr.com/somerandomdudelmao/710091900612476928/cass-apocalyptic-series-masterpost

https://www.tumblr.com/tapakah0/716125830953189376/life-of-violence-era-masterpost

another animator i look up to, most of their professional clean work i love to look back on and analyze to apply to my own work

https://www.tumblr.com/miiukkaa/718507959308664832/lesgo

[up-in-space-reading]

Average Weekly Screentime - Chap 2: Motorbikes and Movie Nights

pairing: Jake Peralta x Amy Santiago

word count: 1908

warnings/tags: college au, texting, drunk texting, text fic (mostly, there's prose a few chaps in), bets, bisexual!jake peralta, jake peralta has adhd, parties, drinking and alcohol, sexual references, implied sexual content (nothing explicit, just suggested its going to happen/has happened), friends to lovers, swearing, mentions of cannibalism, lighthearted threats of violence (typical rosa stuff yk), fluff

read on ao3

Average Weekly Screentime masterlist

Story Summary: texting fic college AU with the squad! It's the beginning of the school year and while everyone else thinks it'll be the same as the previous year, Gina has a feeling things are going to be different and wagers a bet with Rosa and Charles. Told through all the various group chats everyone is in.

Chap 1 | Chap 2 | Chap 3 | Chap 4 | Chap 5 | Chap 6 | Chap 7 | Chap 8 | Chap 9 | Chap 10

authors note: i was gonna wait until i had more written to post another chapter but i felt bad making you wait so here is another chapter! i wanted to title this chapter differently but the one i first came up with rhymes so we've GOTTA stick with that.

Thank you for reading and hope you enjoy!! <3

Jimmy Jabbers

[11:23am, Thursday]

Queen G: okay we NEED to go to a party this weekend or im gonna start pulling my hair out Queen G: im being semi-serious btw

RoRo: name a time and place RoRo: I just show up if I feel like it

Pineapples: gina ur a genius Pineapples: party this weekend is a m u s t

Mr Grapes: I’m in but does anyone even know someone having a party

Four Eyes: I’m with Rosa, name the time and place and I’ll see if I can make it

Queen G: firstly – ur not getting out of this one amy, nice try tho Queen G: secondly – charles I know MANY people and at least one of them will be having a party Queen G: give me 10 and I’ll sort everyones weekend plans

Pineapples: love u gina

Queen G: thank u

-

Sexy Bitches

[11:28am, Thursday]

Sexy: what are ur weekend plans ter?

Ter Bear: James is throwing a party at ours on Saturday. Claims its his birthday but his birthday is in summer

Sexy: and im assuming ur gonna invite ur bestie gina?

Ter Bear: Sure, but you can’t DJ

Sexy: seriously??? Sexy: what if i sent u my playlist Sexy: u can make an informed decision

Ter Bear: Fine, but I’m not making any promises

-

Jimmy Jabbers

[11:33am, Thursday]

Queen G: great news! Queen G: ter bear having a party at his

Pineapples: count me in!

Mr Grapes: me too!

RoRo: yeah sure

Four Eyes: I don’t know..

Pineapples: still recovering from the last party??

Four Eyes: Very much so Four Eyes: I’ll come but no drinking

Queen G: boooooooo

Four Eyes: I’ll be designated driver?

Queen G: amy ur the beessttt

-

Skipping School Is(n’t) Cool

[11:38am, Thursday]

Ferris: u dont have to come

Cameron: I know, I’ll probably regret if I don’t though. My mother keeps bothering me to make sure I’m making the most out college

Ferris: what if making the most out of it is being a regular in the library and handing assignments in a week early Ferris: has ur mom ever considered that

Cameron: Haha I don’t think she has but I’ll bring it up next time she calls me

Ferris: tell her i said that Ferris: i want credit

Cameron: Will do

-

Jimmy Jabbers

[9:06pm, Saturday]

Four Eyes: Leaving my dorm now, you all better be ready. Meet you in the parking lot.

Queen G: rosa and i on our way

Pineapples: charles and i also on our way

Four Eyes: Can’t believe I wasn’t invited to any of the getting ready sessions?!

Queen G: we were pregaming Queen G: next time u will be invited

Four Eyes: Fine. Now get your asses down here.

-

[10:04pm, Saturday]

Four Eyes: Can’t believe I’ve already lost Rosa, does anyone know where she is?

Queen G: with me Queen G: we’re dancing and drinking

Four Eyes: Fantastic

-

[11:24pm, Saturday]

Pineapples: anyone seen amy?? Pineapples: cant find her

RoRo: shut up or come to the kitchen and drink peralta

Queen G: charles hitting on a girl Queen G: trainwreck

-

Skipping School Is(n’t) Cool

[11:26pm, Saturday]

Ferris: where r u?

Cameron: Outside, it was too loud inside

Ferris: u okay?

Cameron: I’m fine, will be in soon

-

Jimmy Jabbers

[12:28pm, Sunday]

Pineapples: my whole body has dry mouth

Four Eyes: I’m not surprised considering you almost threw up in my car

Pineapples: worth it

-

Skipping School Is(n’t) Cool

[12:43pm, Sunday]

Ferris: u alright?

Cameron: I’m fine, I just really don’t think I was in the mood for that party last night

Ferris: fair enough Ferris: when i feel like that i pretend to be a different person

Cameron: I’m not surprised you do that, maybe next time I’ll try it. For now I’m gonna focus on studying

Ferris: as if u need to do more

Cameron: There’s always new material to be worked on, you know

Ferris: news to me lol

-

Jimmy Jabbers

[06:54pm, Tuesday]

Pineapples: calling it now Pineapples: anakin is darth vader

Four Eyes: Wait what???

Mr Grapes: jake, have you ever seen star wars??

Pineapples: this is my first time! Pineapples: i get why people like these

Four Eyes: Oh my God..

Pineapples: i gotta ask tho Pineapples: why the purple lightsaber

Mr Grapes: don’t worry about it, it really doesn’t matter

Pineapples: sure thing!

-

[07:45pm, Tuesday]

Pineapples: im literally so smart guys

Four Eyes: Jake in the nicest way possible, everyone knew about Anakin

Pineapples: seriously??

Queen G: even i knew that and i dont watch movies like that

Pineapples: aw man…

RoRo: Jake ‘I worked out that Anakin was Darth Vader all on my own’ Peralta

Pineapples: idc i still liked the movie

-

Bi Besties

[04:02pm, Wednesday]

Dagger: if you message me one more time about this I’ll burn your die hard poster

El Baboso: i know about motorbikes I swear!

Dagger: gina knows more about motorbikes than you do

El Baboso: wanna take that bet?

Dagger: NO JAKE

-

Jimmy Jabbers

[04:04pm, Wednesday]

Pineapples: @Queen G can u name some motorbikes?

Queen G: sure thing babe Queen G: bike 1, bike 2, bike 3, bike 4, bike 5, bike 6, harry Harley, harriet Harley, henry Harley, hobie Harley, hotel Harley, and bike 7

RoRo: I have nothing to say

Pineapples: check. mate.

-

Skipping School Is(n’t) Cool

[08:03pm, Friday]

Ferris: amy can i be super honest with u rn?

Cameron: Of course, is everything okay?

Ferris: this is hard for me to admit tbh Ferris: but ive gotta do whats best

Cameron: Jake, you’re making me worried

Ferris: i need help

Cameron: Are you alright? What’s going on?

Ferris: im behind on assignments and idk what im doing Ferris: can u help me???

Cameron: That’s it?! You scared the hell out of me! Cameron: Yes, I can help you with the assignments as long as you don’t do that again

Ferris: pinky promise! Ferris: library tomorrow??

Cameron: Sounds good

-

Dance Squad

[01:32pm, Saturday]

G-Hive: ive just gotten some incredibly interesting news

Charlese: dish sis!

G-Hive: ignoring that G-Hive: jake and amy are studying together at the library

Scary: and?

G-Hive: and?! G-Hive: they’re getting cozy

Charlese: they didn’t invite anyone else? that’s weird

G-Hive: i never thought id say this but thank you charles! G-Hive: you get it!!

Scary: so what, you think there’s something happening?

G-Hive: nothing serious because its just studying but voluntarily spending time alone together G-Hive: bit suspish if u ask me

Charlese: its all coming together and im on track to win this bet Charlese: get ready to pay up guys

Scary: absolutely not happening, just because they’re studying alone together doesn’t mean they’re gonna get together in the next three weeks

G-Hive: but its a step in the right direction

Charlese: i still have confidence

Scary: and its still misplaced

-

Skipping School Is(n’t) Cool

[10:06am, Wednesday]

Cameron: Holt has just sent out an email cancelling this afternoon’s class, do you want to go to the library and work on your assignments for a bit?

Ferris: thats great news i should really check my email more Ferris: library sounds good as long as we get food Ferris: im hungry

Cameron: Did you not have breakfast this morning?

Ferris: ran out of fruit loops Ferris: heartbreaking tbh

Cameron: Your nutrition (or lack thereof) scares me

Ferris: thank u!

-

Jimmy Jabbers

[09:35pm, Thursday]

Queen G: manifesting that one day ill have a famous bf

RoRo: are you doing anything to actually achieve that goal?

Queen G: chris evans is bad in bed and if he wants me to stop saying it he’ll have to come prove me wrong

Pineapples: i second that!!

-

[11:32am, Saturday]

Four Eyes: Does anyone want to come get lunch at Sal’s?

Queen G: cant, getting my nails done

RoRo: also can’t, gina dragged me to her nail appointment

Pineapples: yeah im down for lunch

Mr Grapes: I’m ordering in Ethiopian so I’ll pass Mr Grapes: next time though!

-

Skipping School Is(n’t) Cool

[11:34am, Saturday]

Cameron: Meet outside the building?

Ferris: see u in a few!

-

Dance Squad

[11:34am, Saturday]

G-Hive: its all happening babes

Scary: sure it is

-

Jimmy Jabbers

[01:08am, Friday]

Pineapples: i wanna start by saying that i will NOT be held accountable for my own actions Pineapples: now, free of judgement Pineapples: how do i get red wine out of carpet

-

[01:13am, Friday]

Pineapples: you guys suck

-

Skipping School Is(n’t) Cool

[01:16am, Friday]

*Ferris made an audio call to Cameron*

“Jake, what’s wrong?”

“I spilled a drink on the carpet of my dorm and I don’t know what to do, they’ll charge me to replace the carpet or something and I can’t afford that-“

“Okay okay, calm down it’s gonna be fine. What did you spill, and be honest with me”

“Red wine..”

“What?”

“I wanted to try it because I’ve never had it before and I went to put the glass down on the table and miscalculated and knocked my hand and it spilled”

“Is your hand okay?”

“Yeah its fine”

“Okay great, the next time you drink red wine in your dorm I’m going to kill you. Now, you’re gonna need two cups of warm water, tablespoon of dish soap, tablespoon of vinegar and mix together. Pour on the stain in little bits and blot until its disappeared”

“You’re a lifesaver Ames, I owe you big time”

“Yes you do. Now I’m going back to sleep, goodnight”

“Goodnight”

-

[01:29am, Friday]

Cameron: 1 image attached Cameron: good as new!

-

[08:02am, Friday]

Ferris: I’m glad. Never drink red wine in your dorm ever again.

-

[10:12am, Friday]

Cameron: i promise!

-

The Night Boys

[10:15am, Friday]

Sidewinder: sorry I didn’t see your message in the chat Sidewinder: how did u go with the stain?

Deathblade: i called amy and she told me how to clean it up Deathblade: looks good as new now! Deathblade: 1 image attached

Sidewinder: THAT’S SO GREAT

Deathblade: thanks

-

Dance Squad

[10:17am, Friday]

Charlese: 1 image attached Charlese: well well well

G-Hive: boyle if u win this bet im going to delete my insta

Charlese: tempting offer but I’ll do you the kindness of just taking your $50

G-Hive: god i hate u

-

Jimmy Jabbers

[11:49am, Saturday]

Pineapples: anyone up for a movie night tonight?

Queen G: only if its a fun movie

RoRo: why not

Mr Grapes: absolutely!! looking through my DVDs as we speak

Four Eyes: Yeah sure, I could use a break

Pineapples: wonderful!! Pineapples: pls gather at mine at like 8 and bring ur best movie suggestion Pineapples: everyone give me money for Chinese food

Queen G: god ur cheap

Pineapples: im not made of money gina

Four Eyes: How much do you want?

Pineapples: lets call it an even $12 each

Mr Grapes: worth it for a movie night with my buds

RoRo: boyle ruined it

-

Skipping School Is(n’t) Cool

[08:23pm, Saturday]

Ferris: btw i liked ur movie suggestion Ferris: even if gina didnt

Cameron: Thanks :)

-

Dance Squad

[09:03pm, Saturday]

Charlese: they’re sitting next to each other

G-Hive: and im sitting next to rosa G-Hive: doesnt mean we’re in love with each other

Charlese: its gotta mean SOMETHING

Scary: it doesn’t mean shit except that there’s hardly any seating in this dorm

Charlese: you guys have no sense of romance

Chap 1 | Chap 2 | Chap 3 | Chap 4 | Chap 5 | Chap 6 | Chap 7 | Chap 8 | Chap 9 | Chap 10

authors note: Fun fact: that star wars thing is literally me, i didn't know anakin was darth vader and then guessed it when i watched the movies for the first time and everyone was like "you didn't know???!!!". The motorbike one is also a direct quote from my bestie <3

I tried to be less party heavy this chapter, they do have a life outside of going to house parties but i will warn the next chapter involves a party (i am gonna tease that there's non-texting writing in it tho). Also this chapter now with added terry for one of the lovely commenters on the first chap, it isnt much but i hope u liked it!

Thanks again, i love you!! <3 next chap will be out as soon as its done!